3 in 1

This week I wrote a few entries and then wondered why I would share them, followed by another ‘why share anything’ phase where I wasn’t sure that people spending their time reading my blog was my fault or theirs, and then conversations on the week-end helped me to realize how much writing the blog is helping me make sense of everything, and that my purpose is a higher one, that my true purpose is not to share the everyday minutiae of my year in Denmark but to be an ambassador for writing as a means to make sense of it all.

Mall Jammin’

Sundays start with indoor training for Jesse and Gus, it starts at 8:00 in the morning and we are there for two hours, not the best time slot but it extends the soccer/ religion relationship in my mind (soccer was Dad’s religion, Mom took me to church). As I did when I was a child I go reluctantly and amuse myself by looking around at people, at one point I get up for communion with the parents and players (parents vs. kids), and by the end of it I am anxious to leave and get on with my day. 

After lunch we went for a walk and as we often do on Sundays without plans we found ourselves at the Outlet Mall (the only one of its kind in Denmark). The draw of malls and downtown shopping areas is undeniable; consumerism is a true force to be reckoned with. I don’t like shopping, I like the mall less than downtown areas, but we haven’t done this in a long time and I’m okay with it, there is no beach within walking or biking distance, and it is good to get out amongst the people. I don’t often buy anything, when you pack for a year there are inevitable packing errors so I make the occasional purchase, but mostly it is just strolling and observing, noticing how shopping culture is insidious; ‘hey that’s a nice sweater, I could use a nice sweater’, ‘I like those shoes and they are such a good price’, etc. The downsides of consumer cultural are numerous and have been written about extensively elsewhere and by better writers, but the one I find myself thinking about is the throw away nature of much of what is offered, clothes that will last a season or two, few items that will become generational hand-me-downs like that sweater of my Dad’s I used to wear in high school, or the coat that was my grandfather’s.

My favourite stores are still the second hand ones and the latest addition to my wardrobe is from one of these, a cardigan that’s pretty thin, I probably won’t be handing it down to my kids (Gus said it was a girls sweater so he won’t mind), but at least it is getting a second chance with me.

The Times They Have Changed

When I was in high school (already it sounds like an Ole’ Man Seifert column) we played football with quarters when we should have been working, the literary types might read, some might look at magazine pictures, or just harass their fellow students. When I enter classrooms today most students are fixed to a screen playing games, facebooking, or watching youtube. I’m not going to complain about it in the classic teacher, ‘they aren’t using their time well’ way, but rather I will simply state that it isn’t fair.

When I was in school and bored out of my mind I did not have the option of playing a game, or sending messages on my laptop, pretending I was taking notes. Yes I could doodle on my paper, or write notes and risk discovery, but killing zombies was never an option. So what did I do? When I think back through the years and recall the ways that I amused myself I find two memories stand out: a game played with a friend involving the floor and our mouths, and imagining escape on the roof outside the windows.

In grade 6 the girl across the aisle from me was as bored as I was and we quickly devised ways to amuse ourselves, the most memorable for me was the ‘smile and you have to kiss the floor’ game. If my memories of grade 6 are accurate I spent half my time trying not to smile and the other half pretending to pick something up off the floor in an attempt to get close enough to kiss it. In high school the game involved less action and more imagination. Outside the window was a lower section of the school building and through the window we could see the roof. Escape plans became a part of class, and the one that stands the test of time is the helicopter plan, simple yet dramatic, bound to make us legends: ‘They climbed out the window, into the helicopter, and then they were gone.’  

Musical

We recently attended the school musical, “Hotel Hallelujah” and I am still marveling at the time and commitment students put into the production to make it what it is. I guess I had certain preconceived notions about what a production at this level would be like, and I was off the mark. I had expected to be sitting on a chair on the gym floor, but they had transformed the gym into a theater, it was no longer a gym. The stage set was professional (the sagging cardboard props of my imagination absent), the sound involved sophisticated equipment, and the lights were first class. What seems to be sticking as most impressive is the number and variety of performers; there were musicians, dancers, actors, singing actors, and if you add that to the workers who set up the stage, the lights, the sound, you are looking at a big group of dedicated students. I went away from the show wondering how any of the students involved had managed to do any schoolwork over the past month. The rehearsal time to get to where they were… and none of this is for credit?

It all made me think of something Gus commented on recently, Gus has noticed that people are really into stuff here.