My World is Changing

For years, the Texas Book Festival, traditionally held in late October, was a highlight of my professional year. Melinda and I developed a tradition--we left about ten Friday for Austin, stopped someplace interesting for lunch, picked up her good friend (and now mine) KK in Austin, and went to Z Tejas for happy hour. Then we set up the booth--she swears I never did, but I know I did. Sometimes my Megan joined us for a drink; other times she just picked me up. I divided the weekend, spending one long day being professional at the festival--manning our booth, visiting with friends, greeting authors, all those things I thought were my responsibility as director of TCU Press. The other day, usually Sunday, I spent with Megan, Brandon, and my two Austin grandsons. On Monday, Melinda and I had breakfast with our beloved designer, Barbara Whitehead, and then headed home.
For several years, we had lunch at a Christian commune near Elm Mott, Texas. The food was marvelous, and we enjoyed the gift shop and a couple of times toured the various workshops--weaving, woodworking, pottery, etc. But then a scandal about the place and child abuse erupted, and we never went back. Last year, we lunched at a lovely bistro in Waco (no, that's not an oxymoron). This year, Melinda, who wrote a book on Texas wineries, wanted to stop at the Rising Star Winery in Salado. Enjoyed wine and a cheese and fruit platter, but we were hungry by the time we got to Z Tejas and split a spinach/mushroom quesadilla.
Megan and I meant to go to the festival Saturday but I made lunch plans with old friends, and she was expecting a crowd for supper and to watch the TCU/UT game. One of the friends I had lunch with had spent the morning at festival presentations and was looking forward to going back for the afternoon. But the programs--panels and readings, etc.--never drew me much. I liked mingling with the crowds, talking this book and that to potential buyers, visiting with colleagues.
Megan and I went to the festival Sunday. She was offended because she saw a huge display of books for $5 and under and decided it was too commercial. I walked through several tents, saw nothing of interest and not the one booth I was looking for. Finally we ran into friends and figured out where TCU Press and the A&M Consortium were. Went there--but few of the people I wanted to see were there. And during all my wanderings, I saw no familiar faces, nobody I could hug and say "Gosh, haven't seen you in a while. How are you? What are you writing." It just wasn't the same world. After forty-five minutes, I told Megan I was done, and as we walked away I said, "I don't need to come back next year." Oh, I'll ride to Austin with Melinda and visit my family, but I don't need the festival.
Maybe it's that all my friends, like me, are aging, and they don't feel the festival is as important. Maybe it's that younger people are manning the booths and filling the role I used to fill. But it was no longer my world.
It's okay. I'm happy in my world of mysteries--and family and friends.

My post-election thoughts

I have a Facebook friend whose political philosophy differs from mine. We've acknowledged that and are still friends, mostly because we both write mysteries and are members of Sisters in Crime. After Obama was called as the winner last night, she posted something to the effect that this is the end of America as we have known it. I think she's absolutely right.
Where we differe is that I think it's also absolutely appropriate. The 21st Century has brought us new times, a rapidly changing world with global interdependency, technology and rapid communication, climate change and its resultant extreme weather. New problems for a new era, and government like everything else has to adapt and change. The old ways won't work...we cannot for instance go on thinking Russia is our biggest enemy. Climate change requires a different way of legislating energy, a different mindset.
Conservatives, by definition of the term, resist change, yet change is what is needed in today's world. In my humble view, the re-election of President Obama represents that change. The transition may continue to be rough, folks, but we'll get there. I sincerely believe in the Obama campaign slogan, "Forward."
A few conservative friends posted gloom and doom messages today but most said although this was not their choice they wanted to work with the President to move forward. I hope others can be reassured and adopt that attitude. As for the few bitter postings and the unnecessary crowing by some liberals, I choose to overlook that.
Friends, we are all Americans and we are all in this together. Let's work to let our legislators know that we want negotiation, compromise, and action. We're tired of a stalled, do-nothing Congress. And above all, be hopeful. I am.

Labor Day

Hot and humid, but we celebrated Labor Day with a porch party tonight--my local children and grandchild and neighbors. I created a hot dog bar with little cards detailing the toppings for different kinds of dogs--Mexican, Chicago, German, Franks and Beans, Coney Dogs. Watch Potluck with Judy next week for more details. But hot as it was, it was pleasant to sit on the porch and trade banter. Jacob was bored beause there were no other kids and finally retreated to the TV--he'd had a long day and played hard with his cousins in Coppell. The rest of us were lazy and tired, full and content. Wine was drunk, beer was sipped, and too much food eaten.
But I am struck with the fragility of life tonight. My friend who's in the midst of a life change is staying in my garage apartment. I am so glad I can offer this help and a place of refuge, and I'm grateful for the company, but I grieve for the changes she's going through. No matter how the current crisis comes out, her life will never again be the same. She's strong, and she'll be fine--but I feel like this is happening to one of my own children. My neighbor Jay is just back from Vermont where he went for a family conference about his father's health--apparently all seven children met. His dad knows he has problems, knows therapy and rehab work will prolong his life, but won't do it. He goes home today or tomorrow with full-time medical care--a good situation but one with an inevitable outcome. A neighbor who was supposed to join us tonight couldn't because of health. And Christian's grandmother died last night in a rehab facility, two days shy of her 95th birthday. I hope her family can take comfort in the fact that she was probably just done, just tired. A lifelong friend is close to marking the one-year anniversay of the death of her husband--a true love match if I ever saw one, and he was too young to leave us. So much sadness.
I sense that change and a certain inevitability are all around us. I'm not depressed by it in the way of thinking that my turn is next, but I am saddened by what happens to people. Not sure how to say this, but some people obsess over the smallest changes in their lives. Sort of "Don't park in my parking space" when there are such larger life changes all around us. Seeing those larger changes makes you--or should make you--put life in perspective.
I guess I pray for all of us tonight a sense of life's beauty...and its fragility. My hope, for myself and others, is to learn to treasure the glory of the moment, the day, and give thanks. I always liked the saying, "Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first." Maybe that sums up what I'm thinking.
Awk! I'm no good at philosphizing, but there's a certain blue mood around me tonight, in spite of the pleasant time and good company.

Telephones, Moving your Cheese, and Feeling Frail

Colin called tonight. He and his famly are in San Antonio, enjoying Sea World--Morgan said she'd seen Shamu and he'd splashed her--and the zoo, the river, and so forth. But he wanted me to call their hotel room. Morgan, almost three, has never seen anything other than a cell phone, and she didn't know what the phone on the beside table was. So I called, and she was excited. They'll be here tomorrow night, and I'm excited about that.

I won something today! At the monthly TCU Pinkbag Luncheon, which is always about books, I won a copy of Who Moved My Cheese? It's so brief that I read it quickly tonight. Basically, it's about change and adapting to change and letting go of old ways and fears--when I went to the podium to get it I said it was appropriate because I was facing a landmark b'day that meant change. But when I read it tonight, it spoke more to me about my fears and my balance, both of which have been too prominent in my consciousness lately.

I decided today that it's easy to feel that you're frail, and because of my sore foot, I let myself feel frail. As a result, I truly lost my balance a couple of times today, and once called out in panic to Melinda who was behind me. She said, "I've got you" and put a reassuring hand on my elbow. But I can't expect Melinda to always be there, and I have to abandon my old ways of thinking and look for the new cheese, without ranting about whoever moved it and it isn't fair. I also have to realize I have a sore foot, but I'm not frail by any means!

The days are going to get busy. Colin and family arrive tomorrow night--first guests in my new garage apartment. Then everyone else arrives Friday night, and I'll have dinner for everyone, so I'm making a double batch of King Ranch chicken tomorrow--supposed to feed 25. Knowing my gang it won't go that far. Saturday we'll be at Jordan's for dinner, after some mandatory shopping for a birthday outfit for me (Megan's mandatory, not mine) and Sunday night is my b'day party at Joe T.'s. There'll be quite a crowd, all people I love a lot, and I'm excited about it, though a bit self-conscious. Everyone will leave Monday, but Jordan and I have both taken the day off--we'll "do" a fancy lunch and sort of let the day roll over us. Tuesday, my true b'day, I suspect it will be back to work, but my co-workers are taking me to lunch. So I'm happily anticipating the next few days and vowing not to let myself get stressed, tired, any of those bad things. I'm going to enjoy my grandchildren.

I may not post often the next few days, but I should have pictures whenever I do.

The times, they are a-changing

I remember recently telling Jamie that I so much don't want my kids and grandkids to think of me as old. (The subject was the fact that I sometimes don't answer my cell phone when it's under my nose, and I had seen him and Melanie exchange what I interpreted as alarmed looks as one of them said, "Jude, your cell phone is ringing." It does play "When the Saints go marching in" rather loudly, so it's hard to miss but I guess I tune it out.) He said they were not alarmed; they just thought it was funny.
But it occurred to me today that I'm in grave danger of becoming one of those old folks who reminisces about "the good old days." Everything around me is changing. My university is changing its physical appearance boldly and dramatically, building elaborate gateways and entrances to the campus, huge buildings that are right up on the curb, leaving no welcoming green space. The new student union under construction has been described as LaQuinta with an arch. We once had a vice chancellor in charge of buildings and grounds who insisted that the campus have lots of trees and lots of inviting green space, so students could study outdoors and classes could meet on the lawn. It was warm and inviting. I read this morning where a Starbucks customer complained the store had lost its "mom-and-pop home-away-from-home" feel, and that's how I feel about the campus.
My church is changing--the order of worship changes almost weekly, most of the people who "were the church" for me are gone. My good friend Betty, who involved me in lots of things, has retired. I knew our last minister and exchanged writing words with him a lot, he married Jordan and Christian; I'm not sure the new minister could put my name with my face. The Church and the Arts Committee of which I was an active member for years is on hold, virtually inactive. Part of my disconnect is of course my own fault--because I don't feel like it's my home-away-from-home, I've stopped going regularly. But I'm afraid if I go back--and I will--it won't be the "good old days." I don't want to change churches--I want my church to be for me what it always was.
Our daily newspaper is changing, now so slim it barely lasts you through a cup of coffee. There are few features, lots of glitz and glamour (I do NOT want to read another word about Britney on that dumb page called "Blab!"), syndicated book reviews. They did publish the letter I wrote about the disappearing newspaper and several friends contacted me to say hooray for you for writing. But the newspaper didn't listen. I don't want to take the Dallas paper--I want my hometown Sunday paper to take over an hour to read.
Change is inevitable--and good. I know that as well as anyone. But it sure does come with a price. Maybe, just maybe, I have to work on my adaptability.