Why I don't like myself on T.V.

Not ON T.V. --- I mean ON, as in "on drugs".

In my lifetime, I've had several television loves, which have fulfilled different purposes and filled different holes as needed. My interests were chronically romantic --- it wouldn't matter what the show was about; if I was watching it, I was doing so for the relationships. While the Grey's Anatomy type shows which are all about relationships are good for a quick fix, I find I'm more drawn to the House type shows where all a gal can do is hope.

X-Files was my show of choice for years while in high school. My best friends and I shared an obsession, and really our obsession fueled our friendships. So in that way, it was good. In every other way, it was a waste of time.

I'm not against recreational TV watching, within limits (though as I'm starting to question the nature of our economy, I'm developing a philosophical beef with the entertainment industry which I haven't fully developed or internalized enough to change my own consumption. More on that will no doubt follow). But I AM against what it does to those of us who are prone to such obsession. Go on the Internet and hit any kind of comment board about a current hit show and you'll see it: thousands of people who if their passions were directed toward the real world could change everything, but instead who are settling for the lesser, vicarious thrill of ready-made adventure and drama.

My husband and I are going through the X-Files on DVD right now, and sometimes I catch those feelings coming back. I find it's not a big deal when watching completed series on DVD, because there's no week-long or summer waits to find out what's next, and when it's over, it's over. But with the X-Files movie now out I find myself not wanting to see it because when I do it will mean it's all over and there's no more hope for WHATEVER it is that the stupid show is fulfilling for me.

What would change in our world if the potential for vicarious living, through books, TV, movies and video games, was removed? Would we withdraw into the stupor of the mundane and kill ourselves with boredom? Or would the need in each of us to be a part of something exciting and meaningful force us to seek it out or create it in reality?

Jody-quality service

Jody works for Yarmouth Kia. Kia is all about customer service --- it's their "Thing". The written on the wall "Thing". They do it well. Jody does it best. So now when Paul and I evaluate customer service anywhere, we do so based on Jody. A few days ago a Vogue Optical employee exhibited many Jody-like qualities, so of her we said, "That was some Jody-quality service!" Mediocre service might be appraised as "Not bad, but he was no Jody." Poor service would not even deserve the invocation of Jody's name; perhaps just a shake of the head and the inner acknowledgment that Jody wouldn't tolerate such things.

So to all the Jody's out there that serve as unto the Lord, or at least as unto their own integrity which calls them to give their best in all they do, I salute you.

And I'm going to write a letter to Kia telling them so.

Addendum to "Of Rice and Men"

To answer Hannie's question (and the concerns of Jilly-Face):

We added in fruits (which we can munch on between meals) and vegetables (which we only use WITH the rice) to make this something that isn't so dangerous and allow this to be something that we can do long term. I also drink a small glass of skim milk every day and we both take a multi-vitamin. This wasn't meant to be an exercise in understanding starvation (I don't believe that hurting our bodies in that way serves a grand enough purpose that it would balance the ill effects)--- it was only meant to be something to make us more mindful of the plight of others, and free up some resources to HELP others.

We could probably get enough calories from rice to not die (since we've said we can eat as much as we want), but because we are both exercising as well (Paul to lose weight, and myself on doctor's orders to lower my ridiculously high cholesterol), well, we're trying to find the SAFE way to do this.

This is only week one. I imagine that if it continues much longer, which I believe Paul will want it to and I do as well, it will morph many times. We've already agreed that if we do stop down the road, we're going to take one day a week and have JUST rice, to remind ourselves every week.

My hope is that this exercise, beyond what it is already doing, will help both Paul and I be more mindful of what our bodies NEED versus what they WANT. I'm terrible at giving in to Paul with the frozen pizzas and the chili and the snacks that not only are bad for us, but are an incredible waste of money that could be invested in helping others.

Anyway, I'm rambling. (Rice-brain, probably.) This is only the beginning of the journey; I'm sure I'll have more to report in the future.

PS - The other day we were shopping and Paul was looking at coffee. He turned to me and said something to the effect of "We should look for fair-trade coffee." I didn't say much in that moment, but "my heart was strangely warmed".

Of Rice and Men

My husband, after some reading he was doing and after HC's message at Beulah, wanted to gain some more perspective about the plight of the very poor. So for the last week, we ate nothing but rice, fruit and vegetables, and intended to give what we saved on our grocery bill toward the world food crisis. And he wants to do it for quite some time.

I'm taking the weekend off - I've already lost too much weight doing this, and I need to load up on calories (did you know that one box of PC Mac and Cheeze is 1200 calories, prepared? LUNCH!). He is also going to introduce a few foods for the weekend, to add back some variety so that Monday, when it's back to "the usual", it hits us all over again.

Because we HAVE been hit. We've learned a lot. Here are some things that have hit me most:

1. Imagine a mother cooking a meal for her kids that she knows will not be what they want, and that it will not satisfy them.
2. imagine a mother having to tell her hungry children that there is no more, that they will have to wait until tomorrow --- having to CHOOSE to ration what they have to make it last.
3. Imagine having to eat what there is --- never enough calories and energy provided --- and then walk for miles to get water that may or may not be sanitary. Would you have to limit your activity so that you wouldn't need as many calories?

Once or twice a day I decide I can't do it --- that I need to have a real meal. I rationalize and I scheme. Thankfully, and definitely surprisingly, it's my husband who says "no" and helps me continue. I'm very proud of him right now. Very proud. This is really the first time I've felt him tangibly connect with the issues that I'm so passionate about. And I wonder, in the back of my mind, where all this might lead.