Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

Earl and I are at our local Panera again tonight. Many of the local restaurants in this area are closed on Sunday and those that were open today were focusing on Mothers’ Day festivities with brunches and the like. We were in Syracuse earlier today for a lovely brunch with my Mom, sister and nephew, but we wanted something small and relatively healthy so we opted for a quick bite at the local Panera. It is busier than I expected it to be.

I’ve been catching up on Facebook today. Amongst all the wonderful photos of folks with their mom or memorial photos posted along the same theme, there was a post from a local class mate talking about the school board’s plan to put some sort of security wall across the lobby of the elementary school I attended. This school was built in 1939 and was built in Art Deco stylings that were popular at that time. The lobby has marble walls, a grand staircase that fanned in two directions to an overlook from the second floor above. Hundreds of photos have been taken on that staircase. There are glasses trophy cases set into the walls that frame the lobby. Walking into that lobby is like taking a step back into time.

Except now the current school board feels it needs a security wall down the middle of it. To the best of my knowledge there has never been any sort of threat against the school, it’s just what we do in the United States today. We overreact to an isolated incident and convince ourselves that if it happened there, it’s going to happen here. Whenever I hear a grand speech of how Americans are resilient and strong and the best citizens in the world, I have to smirk and roll my eyes, because that is hardly the case. I can’t imagine that folks in other societies live in constant fear of some sort of manufactured boogey man.  Yes, there was an awful school shooting in an elementary school a couple of years ago. The news media, in their constant quest to gain as much ad revenue as possible by replaying the same horrific, exaggerated news stories over and over again, is successfully reprogramming the American populace to be fearful. Fearful of everything. What’s in your food? What are your neighbors up to? What is that other passenger on an airline flight writing in his diary?

Did you hear about the American Airlines flight from Philadelphia to Syracuse that was delayed a couple of days ago? A woman passenger saw a “non-American man” writing math equations in a notebook and was convinced he was a terrorist. He was removed from the flight, questioned by authorities who realized that he was a math professor and then allowed to fly on to Syracuse. The passenger that made the claim was held back for a later flight. Ignorance at its finest.

I am so tired of hearing about fear and all the terrible things that might (but most likely won’t) happen to me and/or my family. People don’t let their kids play outside anymore. Walls and gates and prison like tactics are being added to school buildings. Guards are being posted at shopping mall entrances. People are looking suspiciously at fellow citizens because they’re a little bit different. How long will it take to “chip” our kids?  If this is what we feel freedom is about in the 21st century then I want to go back to the 20th century where we were a happier place and weren’t so scared of everything. I can’t help but thing we are doing things wrong. Exaggerated response to fear is only multiplied when it’s passed from generation to generation.

When does the pendulum swing back toward rational thought?

While I was out for my morning walk I couldn’t help but notice the diversity of traffic on our road.

Today several people have said to me, “May the Fourth Be With You”. While I was tempted to reply, “and also with you”, on each occasion, I opted to show my true allegiance with “Live Long and Prosper”.

I’m not much of a Star Wars fan. I haven’t seen the latest installment of that machine. Honestly, I’ll probably opt out of the latest installment of Star Trek as well, as the reboots don’t really seem to be in the spirit of Roddenberry’s “Star Trek”.

Earl and I are currently sitting in the local Barnes and Noble, which is pronounced “Barnes and Nobles” in these parts. This utterly wrong pronunciation was most likely inspired by the mispronunciation of Ames as “Ameses”. It was easier to just say “Westons”, even though they closed.

I’m digressing.

It’s the fourth of May and to celebrate reading and books, Barnes and Noble has an R2-D2 running around the Nook corner chattering away in something that only an Android phone can understand. Every once in a while a child screams in delight, another child smells like they’re dumping in the diaper, but by God, May The Fourth Be With You.

I don’t even know what May The Fourth Be With You means. Do they say that in the English speaking countries in Europe, where they most likely say it’s the Fourth of May? Does Canada say the fourth of May or May 4th? If you think about it, the European style makes sense because the word order is hierarchical: date, month, year. The date is the smallest time unit, followed by the month, followed by the year.

I like orderly things like that.

There is a man wearing a fedora working on a PC. He is running Windows 7 and I know this because I can see his PC on the network. I was going to leave him a love note on his desktop praising his chapeau of choice but I decided I didn’t want to flip him out and have him lose his cool. The fedora keeps him chilled looking.

Earl is trying to watch a video clip by holding the speakers of his iPhone up to his ear. I think it makes it harder to see the screen that way but to each his own.

Perhaps R2-D2 can bring over some headphones.

We have several acres of wooded area behind our house. Our patio looks out over the woods. Our kitchen window looks out over the woods. When I sit at the kitchen table, I look out over the woods. I like looking at the woods.

Over the past week or so our neighbors (two houses over) have been cutting down trees and doing a lot of work out in their portion of the woods. This morning I became a little bit alarmed when I realized it looked like they were prepping the land to build something. The area they have cleared is large enough for a decent sized McMansion. If my suspicions come true, the kitchen table will look out over some woods and the back of a McMansion.

I am not amused, not amused at all.

Now, we live in a good sized house that was built in the latter half of the 1990s. It sits on two acres of property that isn’t nearly as roomy as our old homestead of 38 acres but I can deal because I can see out into the woods. If the house was located on one of those McMansiony streets, I’m sure our home would have no issue with fitting into the McMansion crowd.

In all honesty, I have no reason to complain about someone building out in the woods because our house is situated behind our neighbors’ house, and when they look out their kitchen window they most likely see our house. And for the first several years of living here, I felt bad about that, because I felt like we were intruding on their space. The only saving grace was that our neighbors are friendly and I can see out into the woods behind our house.

I can not fathom why anyone would want to live in row of McMansions. I have wondered over the years what would possess a young couple to dream about living in a row of homes in a cheaply built house that wasn’t exactly like but well coordinated with the houses around it. These McMansion rows are different than the post-WWII suburban housing developments; at least back then there were trees, the roads had curves to them and there was some semblance of character to said developed area, but lately folks in these parts have been building straight rows with every house lined up perfectly in some sort of Stepford Synchronization.

All that’s missing in that photo is matching mini-vans in assorted drab hues.

I couldn’t find anything in the local Town Board Meeting minutes that would indicate that there is something major in the way of construction going on in the woods, but it really looks like we are going to have something nearby and whatever springs up in the woods is going to be an impediment to the view of the woods that I thoroughly enjoy.

Until I can determine what’s going up back there I’m going to have to do my best Mrs. Kravitz impersonation and keep an eye on the progress.

So I am fascinated by Art Deco-ish architecture that was used for some school buildings built around World War II. This is an extension of my interest in master clock systems. There just seemed to be so much more attention to details back then; many of these school buildings are still standing and holding their own against the tests of time.

When Earl and I are out for a drive I’ll occasionally spot a school of this era and I’m curious as to what kind of clocks they had back in the day, as most likely the classroom clocks have since been replaced by plastic junk of some sort. I’ll look up these schools in classmates.com and gander through yearbooks trying to see if the camera captured a clock in one of the photos. The clocks I collect, made by The Standard Electric Time Company, are easy to spot with the numbers and hands used in the design of the clock.

I was going through a 1967 yearbook from a school in the Finger Lakes when I ran into a club I had never seen before. I’ve been going through old yearbooks for many years, but before tonight I had never seen a photo for “Boys Homemaking Club”.

Since it was the mid 1960s I always assumed that any sort of Homemaking Club would be left to the girls and ladies of the class, after all, when a woman appeared on a game show of that era, Allen Ludden would ask, “And what does your husband do?” Times were different back then.

Or were they? I’m now going to go through more of these yearbooks to see how many years the “Boys Homemaking Class” endured in this school. I’ve never seen a club of this nature but I think it’s a wonderful thing.

A wonderful Monday! Sometimes you just want to dance.