Small town life

This will be a “rutabaga post.”  For me, that means “unexpected nice-like, comparatively-unrelated-to-Christianity, non-rant-type post.”

This morning, I enjoyed small town life enough to write a few words about it now.  In the light snow, I packed a small bag with papers to grade and a book and a musical score and headed to town.

Where I live, “heading to town” has nothing to do with car keys or all the much civilization.  There are distinct benefits, though:  I walked a total of a mile and accomplishd the following:

• checked in at the local library, complete w/librarian that will look up your wife’s card because you weren’t sure whether your kid’s books were checked out on your card or hers … got a couple of movies for later … this week, it was someone I don’t really know working there, but most Saturdays, it’s one of two coworkers who volunteer there (no bother; everyone’s nice, and they don’t even charge fines!)
• walked three doors up the street to the post office, which was closed at 9:15 a.m. — oh, yeah — only 10-12 on Saturdays (and they also close for a late lunch hour on weekdays, which is weird, but no bother, really)
• walked across the street to the hardware store that also rents U-Hauls and reserved one for my band tour … also chatting the owner up about a concert last fall and inviting him to next Saturday’s Symphonic  Winds concert … he mentioned that his friend accompanies a student of mine
• headed next door, and around the corner (between the hardware store and the house where the store owner lives) and ordered a nice omelet and toast and decaf, sitting there for an hour while grading papers
• then walked back about 3 doors up the street and across to the post office to mail something, where there is a nice clerk who knows people’s names
• then walked across the street again to the Community Bank and made a deposit and a withdrawal from the ATM (there was no bank ATM at all until about a year ago, believe it or not!) and then headed home

Where else do you get all of this by walking a mile?  Most weeks, I’d rather have a grocery store with better produce and prices, and a Wal-mart for convenience, and cheaper gas, and, and, and … but sometimes, small town life can be nice, personable, and downright quaint.

Not normally a rant day

Often for me, traditional church experiences lead to blogging.  Today, there was little to no negative, and very little is on my heart, really.  I led today.  Enjoyed planning.  A level of re-planning, as is usually a necessity because of the unfriendly timetable our church operates on, wasn’t even that bad.  Enjoyed leading.  Enjoyed communicating about it.  And I believe the activities were worthwhile, God-honoring, saints-edifying, in general.  There seemed to be good feelings all ’round (to use the expression J.B. Phillips appropriated for his version of the greeting in Romans 16:16).

Two non-church annoyances occur to me on this Lord’s Day, though, and I think I’ll indulge.  Studies have shown, by the by, that the proliferatory blogosphere may be directly correlated to a decrease in trips to psychotherapists.  Writing can be therapeutic.

First, while reading on the long drive home (don’t be alarmed–it’s a longstanding habit, resulting in no accidents and really no close calls … when I veer a foot or two, I’m always aware of what’s around me, and the veering is usually toward the shoulder), I was reminded that e-mail signatures these days sometimes include the tag line “Please consider the environment before printing this e-mail.”  I suppose there was some latent guilt, or I wouldn’t have remembered these words as I was reading printed e-mail.

But … who decides what the expression “the environment” includes?  I’d like to propose that my state of mind and my health and the use of light bulbs and other factors are parts of the environment, just as much as the tree that led to the four sheets of 8.5×11 I held in my hands.  Yesterday, after a 10-hour Saturday work day, I made the quick decision to print this particular 8-page e-mail attachment for reading this afternoon.  It was a semi-conscious decision and is one I’m at no loss to justify.  My eyes did not need another 30 minutes at the computer screen.  My hands did not need another 30 minutes on the keyboard pressing “PageDown.”  The rest of me did not need 30 minutes at the office on a  Saturday.  My personal “environment” was, in fact, considered, and I printed the document.  Eye strain was lessened, as was inflammation in my hands.  My home “environment” was the better because of this decision.  I believe I did the better thing.

And then when we returned home, we found that the silly sidewalk-snowplow guy had plowed the sidewalks twice on a Sunday, making it very difficult to enter our driveway again.

Landon Saunders once wrote something along the lines of the value of having good friends that will let you rant.  Then you go back to living.  I never want to indulge in ranting to the point that I don’t have friends.  These aren’t all that serious.  They’re just fun to write about.