Let a :-) Be Your Umbrella

Our family spends a lot of time, particularly in the summer, at garage sales and book sales. Garage sales are popular at least in part due to the availability of cheap second-hand toys -- often the "guys" of which I wrote some time ago -- but we're all always on the lookout for books as well. I'm afraid the kids are more enthusiastic about owning books than reading them, but I'd rather go way overboard in the quest to make them lovers of reading.

And yes, I did say "we're" always on the lookout; I rarely buy a book that I can't get for free at the library (unfortunately, we have some trouble with due dates around here, so even the library ain't free, but then...), but on occasion I stumble across a gem I know I've got to have for keeps. Such was the case recently when I found a used copy of Eats, Shoots, and Leaves.

Since I have a somewhat unusual sense of humor and a love for language -- and I'm a bit of a pain in the keister -- this is unquestionably the book for me. She writes with what is called, in almost every review (and there are over 500 extremely assertive reviews, both pro and con, at amazon.com), "biting wit" about the use and misuse of punctuation.

I admit that blogs as a whole are not thought of as bastions of grammar, syntax, spelling, or punctuation -- and my blog punctuation may seem a tad idiosyncratic. In point of fact I am so OCD about such issues that I've even leveraged it into a part-time role in my other gig (the one I'm actually paid for (should that be "the one for which I'm actually paid"?) ); I'm the editor for one of my department's newsletters, so my word on commas, dashes and semi-colons is law.

Scary, huh?

So anyway, I was reading along chortling the chortle of the guy who knows he's on the right side of the battle against the punctuation evildoers. Then the smug rug got snatched out from under me when she turned her scorn laser upon... emoticons.

Forget the idea of selecting the right words in the right order and channelling the reader's attention by means of artful pointing. Just add the right emoticon to your email and everyone will know what self-expressive effect you thought you kind-of had in mind.

Don't get me wrong; I know emoticons aren't cool. My problem is that in my business life, I conduct an enormous percentage of my interpersonal exchanges are via instant message or e-mail. And for better or worse, I don't consistently suppress my sometimes-inscrutable wit.

I find that my variety of humor, if I may be permitted to describe it as such, is extremely oral -- dependent upon emphasis, pacing, volume and the like... every possible nuance of spoken language. Emoticons can be helpful in that regard, along with all the other tricks I use such as boldface; italics; and, as already confessed, my somewhat quixotic punctuation.

At work I have frequent recourse to emoticons (and delight in collecting new varieties ), not least because I spend a lot of time conversing with casual acquaintances. And for some reason, I have a particular genius -- I like to think of it as genius, at least -- for saying/typing things that are very funny... unless you interpret them a little differently than I intended, at which point they make you angry.

The irony that struck me not long ago is that I use emoticons much more in my IMs than I use smiles, or maybe even expressions, on my own actual face. Boy, I've said some unflattering things about myself in this space, but that's gotta be in the top 10!

I'm working on balancing that ratio... I'm trying to use fewer emoticons . But I think it might also be a good idea for me to be a bit more expressive; I can point to at least one person who'd appreciate that. In fact, I'm pointing at her right now.

So if you're out and about, and you run into someone who looks like this , stop by and say hi.

Happy New Year

I spent an astonishing proportion of my life in school... all the way through high school & college, then graduate school, then teaching at the college level for lot of years. Now, of course, I'm in 3rd grade -- OK, my son's in 3rd grade, but since I am such an active participant in the homework I'm really hoping to get credit for the year.

So in a lot of ways, the academic calendar strikes more of a chord in me than the one hanging on the fridge. It's only reinforced by the church calendar; even though we have church all year round, there's certainly a sense that a certain portion of the church family, let's say, is on vacation for the summer months, and then we restart in September.

It also represents a different kind of new beginning; it was in September, a number of years ago, that I made one of my first steps toward applying the faith I said I had toward my actual, you know, life.

My life at the time: junior in college, but since I had lived at home for the first 2 years of community college, setting out on my own for the first time -- a good time, if not a bit tardy, to really mull over what my own values were. Also, and of course this is pivotal to the story, I had a girlfriend.

She was also in college in another state, but we'd been dating for over a year and it felt pretty solid. We had had the boat rocked a few times, but overall it seemed reasonably happy.

When I got to school, it was made clear to me in a number of ways that faith was not something we took out of the drawer on Sunday morning and then returned to its cotton-batting-lined box once the service was over. We had prayer before classes, and chapel services 4 times a week. There were special speaker series, and even the entertainment was faith-based.

I have to admit that, as much as September prompts this look back, I was also prompted by my recent music-recording efforts. I was recording one of my favorite old Christian artists, De Garmo & Key, when I realized I was missing an album: "No Turning Back", which was recorded on the same tour they were on when I saw them that September.

It was the sort of raw, hard-charging faith message they presented (and rocked out with), along with a few pointed comments by one of those visiting speakers, that made me think back over a few things in my life. Such as this: why didn't my girlfriend & I ever discuss faith matters?

We had spent a lot of time together -- in fact, we worked together that summer; we'd had innumerable phone calls and dozens of long, long letters. And while it's easy for me to sit here and note that she didn't talk about faith, I also had to realize that I hadn't either.

This isn't a TV movie, it's a slice of my past... but nevertheless you probably know how the next scene goes already. But honestly, I guess I hadn't seen enough movies at that point, because I went into it with a sense of excitement. I wrote her a long impassioned letter about what I was learning and feeling, how I was changing, and I invited her to tell me about her faith experience. I promise you that what I was expecting was to open up a whole new level of communication and closeness...

... but somehow that's not what I got. I've long since lost track of the letter I got, so there's a chance I'm not portraying it accurately, but here's what I remember: she felt like I was accusing her of not being spiritual enough, and she told me that her faith was too personal to her to discuss.

Well, of course I backed & filled, and tried to repair the damage... but what I didn't understand was that I hadn't caused a breach, I'd merely revealed one I didn't see before. We struggled on till Thanksgiving break, keeping in touch and trying to find common ground, but I think we both knew that it was over. When we both got home, I went to her house to talk to her, and before I left we broke up.

I guess 'broke up' isn't quite the right term; we really acknowledged to each other that we were already moving in opposite directions, and affirmed the wisdom of continuing that way. When I left, she told me she was sure we'd get back together someday, and I did get a couple letters from her in ensuing months, but it really was over.

I can't honestly say I learned the lesson all the way that first time, but I'm thankful that our God of second chances gave me enough opportunities so I could finally get it right.