Fall Back and Punt

I struggled back to my car from my foray into the mall with the Hallmark bag dangling from my arm, leaning into the wind and sheltering from the rain the recordable books I had just bought for my grandchildren. My phone was ringing and I was out of breath as I finally managed to slide into the car and slam the door shut. I wrestled with the phone, barely managing to get it out of my pocket and answer it before it went to voice mail.


I seriously considered not bothering to answer until I saw it was from the Church accompanist. Must be important. I pushed the green answer icon. "Hello?" Lourdes' voice called my name. "Esther! I cannot play for you tomorrow. I am in the hospital."

"What!!?? Are you OK?" No she was not OK. She had collapsed in the middle of the night and had a friend take her to the emergency room with appendix trouble. The doctor wanted to immediately do surgery, and Lourdes wanted no part of it. But her friend convinced her and she had her appendix laproscopically removed. Even before she was fully free from the effects of the anaesthesia she started fussing to be allowed to go home!

I understand her angst. No insurance. No money. Bah. I wanted to weep for her. I wanted to fix the situation. But what I really had to do was figure out how to do Sunday worship without an accompanist. The anthem was to have been the Rutter "The Lord Is My Shepherd" from his Requiem. A challenging piece to sing and to play. There was no way for the choir to sing that without my direction and without Lourdes there to play.

With a bit of grace and a few changes, we flipped the service around to allow me to direct from the keyboard. Of course, I have other pianists in the congregation and choir who can fill in also, and will call upon them if Lourdes will be out longer, but knowing her spunk, I suspect she will be back quicker than blink.

Lord have mercy! Some days you just have to do your best and leave the rest in the good Lord's hands.

Green Lights Out Plot

What is going on with the traffic lights around Rochester? I have seen at least a half dozen traffic lights where the green light is either burned out entirely, only half showing, or flashing, stuttering, blinking or whatever you want to call it when the light doesn't behave itself! It's a bit weird.

I half smile as I consider that it could be some sci-fi alien force sending us a coded message. Or it could be that all the kids sitting at red lights playing with their handheld video games have drained the power which burned out the green lights since they are lowest on the fixture. I suppose it could be that all the rain we have been having lately has seeped into the holder and zapped the wires.

Or maybe the economy is so tight that they can no longer pay the team that normally changes these lights, so they have all gone wanting. Perhaps they track these outages through some sort of software that has a glitch in it due to an upgrade (right, dream on). I could keep guessing.

The interesting result is that there is no difference in the flow of traffic whether the green light works or is out. We are like trained robots. As long as the red light comes on and goes off, regardless of whether the green light shows up, cars go! On beyond even Pavlov.

It reminds me of a time when I was a kid playing "red light, green light" with the neighborhood kids. The person up front said "Mother may I?" instead of green light, and nobody even heard her except me. Everybody started running while I just stood there. And nobody believed me when I repeatedly told them that she said the wrong words.

I wonder how many areas of my life I am navigating without the appropriate signals? Have I even checked to see if there is a reason I am on automatic pilot? Do I need to change course, change behavior, pay more attention to what it is I am supposed to be doing? Make sure I am in the right game and on the right street?

Every once in awhile I find the need to take a little inventory and make sure all the green lights are working and all the streets are clear to go. I guess today is as good as any.

William

William is not quite two. He comes to the Library almost every day with his Mom and sits in the chair next to her while she checks her email and Facebook and does a bit of web surfing. He is a cherub with limited patience.



For the first ten minutes or so, he happily munches on the snacks Mom brings. I watch him stick a round cookie in his mouth and draw it in and out while he makes faces. Then he hops down from the chair and wanders just out of Mom's reach. She plops him back in the chair. He throws a cookie on the floor, and Mom sighs, retrieves the cookie and chucks it in the trash. He squeals loudly and she hushes him.



I can't imagine she is getting anything done. These little games continue. William hands Mom a gooey half chewed cookie. She takes his offering, placing it back in the container and wiping her hands on her jeans. William begins to push the chair (which is on wheels) around the table, bumping into corners and walls. Mom reseats him and pulls him up to the computer where she is working. He sits for about a half minute, them begins fuddling with the mouse.



Mom slaps his hand, telling him to behave. He swings his feet and pouts. Soon he is down again and off chasing a student who happened to wander past. Mom runs after him. He lies down on the floor, kicking his feet and making a racket. She shushes him, gathers him in her arms and heads back to her seat. Absorbed in her Facebook, she doesn't realize that William has wandered off, clear down to the cafe where he is making eyes at the girls seated in the first booth.



Mom jumps up with a start, panicked. They reconnect. Soon William is attempting climbing the stairs. Mom to the rescue once again. An hour later, Mom gives up, scoops William, cookies and carry bag into her arms and heads for the door. William grins over her shoulder and waves a brassy good bye to anyone who is looking. Good-bye, William. I am sure we will see you tomorrow!