Sports are no where as big an event in the East as they are in the south or the midwest. Perhaps its the harsh climate or the exhorbitant cost of living, but the entire population rarely drops everything to congregate in viewing or to participate spectator or otherwise in any sport, even the almighty football.
Campus put the super bowl game on the big screen TV in the athletic center (no surprise there) and we librarians did the same in our study cafe (big surprise there!). We extended an offer to our student workers to come enjoy the evening with us, complete with subs, soda, chips and other snackage.
I guess the idea of turning on the sound (and off the closed captioning that is usually running) was just too foreign an idea, because few students showed up, and even students who were actually *in* the library (and believe me, there were none too many) had to be coerced to join us as we laughed at the commercials and ooohed at the fumbles and recoveries.
Not to worry, it takes time to establish a tradition. We will try again next year. Staff and their families had a great time! And our archivist suggested turning on the sound for election day evening in November - great idea! So this super bowl festivity might have been just OK, but it was a start, and ya hafta start somewhere!
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Saturday, February 2, 2008
No Concert for You!
My friend and I had thought about connecting this weekend and going to hear a concert. But imagine my surprise to discover that there really wasn't anything to go hear! No Concert for You! Unbelievable for Rochester.
I had spent the morning at Sibley Library deep in research about Lullabies, discovering and selecting potential music for PrayerSong to sing for our Buffalo debut. I found some lovely pieces, and was just finishing listening to some ancient LPs when my cellphone rang and nearly scared me out of my senses in the quiet tombs of the listening room.
The weekend staff person called to say she had just been told her father was in the hospital and wasn't doing well. I made arrangements to come to work and spell her so she could go to Buffalo and headed out. Before I could get there, almost before she hung up, her father died. He had lung cancer, but this was too quick and unexpected. He was on a course of treatment and should have had more time.
I wouldn't have felt like going to a concert if we had found one to go to. I was deeply touched by her loss, by her repeated attempts to focus and think what to do next. The death of even someone we have never met affects us in unexpected ways. I quietly closed the library, feeling her sorrow. I wandered home slowly, and just sat for awhile.
Tomorrow will be better. Time has a way.
I had spent the morning at Sibley Library deep in research about Lullabies, discovering and selecting potential music for PrayerSong to sing for our Buffalo debut. I found some lovely pieces, and was just finishing listening to some ancient LPs when my cellphone rang and nearly scared me out of my senses in the quiet tombs of the listening room.
The weekend staff person called to say she had just been told her father was in the hospital and wasn't doing well. I made arrangements to come to work and spell her so she could go to Buffalo and headed out. Before I could get there, almost before she hung up, her father died. He had lung cancer, but this was too quick and unexpected. He was on a course of treatment and should have had more time.
I wouldn't have felt like going to a concert if we had found one to go to. I was deeply touched by her loss, by her repeated attempts to focus and think what to do next. The death of even someone we have never met affects us in unexpected ways. I quietly closed the library, feeling her sorrow. I wandered home slowly, and just sat for awhile.
Tomorrow will be better. Time has a way.
Friday, February 1, 2008
An Early Lent
Friday dawned miserable, sleet and freezing rain, snow and slush, a mess. News reporters cautioned drivers to allow extra time, to go slowly. School wasn't canceled or even late, so I took Drew to the carpool place. But I knew.
I knew that I would not be driving to Buffalo for the workshop on dealing with the terminally ill. I didn't mind, really. After reading the pamphlet more closely, I wondered how teaching cancer patients to use their dreams would be an asset. Dreams, yes. Prayers, no. I shook my head.
But I also knew that I would not go to work in the library. I had made arrangements for others to cover for me, and as far as they knew, I would be attending the workshop. I had awakened with a sense that God was calling me to spend time in prayer. He had arranged a whole day for me to be free to do that.
If He had gone to such great lengths, the least I could do was cooperate. I returned to the apartment, took up my Bible, and waited. I didn't feel inclined to turn to my usual reading place. I lighted some candles and some incense, and sat waiting. Passages came to mind from here and there in the Bible, and as I thought of a chapter or a verse, I looked it up and read it out loud.
After an hour or so of reading, I felt impressed to begin praying. First for my family and friends, then for specific events and people, then for Jairus House. I know the Lord was asking if I were willing to intercede for this ministry, to come to Him in prayer. This year, Lent for me will be a time of intense awareness of God, awareness of spiritual things, of giving of myself to Him.
It began early. It will intensify. He has a plan, and I wait to be instructed. There is a sense of important beginnings, the unfolding of work to be done. Let me be ready to do what I am asked. To follow His lead. To reflect His light into dark corners.
I knew that I would not be driving to Buffalo for the workshop on dealing with the terminally ill. I didn't mind, really. After reading the pamphlet more closely, I wondered how teaching cancer patients to use their dreams would be an asset. Dreams, yes. Prayers, no. I shook my head.
But I also knew that I would not go to work in the library. I had made arrangements for others to cover for me, and as far as they knew, I would be attending the workshop. I had awakened with a sense that God was calling me to spend time in prayer. He had arranged a whole day for me to be free to do that.
If He had gone to such great lengths, the least I could do was cooperate. I returned to the apartment, took up my Bible, and waited. I didn't feel inclined to turn to my usual reading place. I lighted some candles and some incense, and sat waiting. Passages came to mind from here and there in the Bible, and as I thought of a chapter or a verse, I looked it up and read it out loud.
After an hour or so of reading, I felt impressed to begin praying. First for my family and friends, then for specific events and people, then for Jairus House. I know the Lord was asking if I were willing to intercede for this ministry, to come to Him in prayer. This year, Lent for me will be a time of intense awareness of God, awareness of spiritual things, of giving of myself to Him.
It began early. It will intensify. He has a plan, and I wait to be instructed. There is a sense of important beginnings, the unfolding of work to be done. Let me be ready to do what I am asked. To follow His lead. To reflect His light into dark corners.
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