Oedipus...Most Miserable of Men

Alas, poor Oedipus.   No matter how hard he tried to do right, it ended up all wrong.


Now, there have been times in my life when I felt as though the harder I tried to do right, the worse my predicament became.  But, I just finished reading Oedipus, the King, by Sophocles, and I have never, NEVER been as miserable as poor Oedipus.


When Oedipus was born, a prophet predicted that he would someday kill his father and marry his mother.  Therefore, shortly after his birth his parents, who were king and queen of Thebes, sent him with a servant to be abandoned on a mountain, supposing that he would die there.  However, by a series of circumstances, which might have at the time seemed fortuitous for the helpless infant, he ended up in another land as the adopted child of the king and queen.


Eventually he heard a rumor that he was adopted, but when he questioned his parents, they denied it.  As he became an adult, a prophet again predicted that he would kill his father and marry his mother.  Not wanting to be guilty of anything so vile, he decided that he must leave those he supposed to be his parents.


Unhappy man that he was, he headed for Thebes.  On the way he ran into the king of Thebes and had an altercation in which he killed him, thus fulfilling the first part of the prophecy.  Eventually the second was fulfilled also, as he married the queen of Thebes who was, in fact, his biological mother.  They were married long enough to have four children before the disaster became apparent.


Everything in Thebes was going badly...crops were failing, disease was rampant.  When counsel was sought of prophets, they declared that someone who had committed a vile deed was among them  Being a conscientious king, Oedipus decided this evil must be brought to light no matter who the guilty party was.


When his guilt was revealed, he was filled with self-loathing.  His mother/wife committed suicide, and he blinded himself by stabbing his eyes with her brooch pins.


My high school Latin teacher apparently didn't have this quite right.  He declared to us that Oedipus had gouged out his own eyeballs.  He thought a reenactment of this should involve Oedipus throwing two grapes into the audience.  (But then, he was strange in multiple ways.)


You have got to feel sorry for the guy....that is, Oedipus, not my Latin teacher.  Each step he took in what appeared to be the right direction was, in fact, the next step toward horrific grief.


The last paragraph of the play, which is spoken by the chorus is:
...while our eyes wait to see the destined final day, we must call no one happy who is of mortal race, until he hath crossed life's border, free from pain.


The truth is that none of us crosses life's border free from pain.


Another sorry spectacle, Job, in the Old Testament, said:
Yet man is born to trouble as surely as sparks fly upward.


We live in a troubled, fallen world full of pain.  Current events make that abundantly clear.  How do we keep from blinding ourselves?  How do we awaken each day and see the agony that surrounds us.


Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.  Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. (Hebrews 12:2-3)

Our own special March Madness

My husband is not a huge fan of sports on television. At least, he keeps his TV sports watching within limits I consider to be tolerable.  He does, however, enjoy watching basketball.


I discovered yesterday that he is all set for the games that are part of March Madness.  He is working on a project on his computer and apparently doesn't want to miss the games, so he has come up with the arrangement in the picture.


Yes, that is my ironing board.  Evidently it is the perfect size for a laptop and keyboard, and since the height is adjustable....well, you get the picture.


I'm not complaining too much, as it gives me a good excuse to ignore the ironing.

Monkey Business

Last evening, two of our granddaughters (affectionately known as Big B and Little B) came over to the house.  The older one wanted help from my husband in putting new inner tubes in her bike tires.  She needed both his help and his tools.  The younger one, who is six years old, tagged along,  As we sat in the kitchen together listening to the sounds coming from the garage, we had this conversation:


Little B:  "Grandma, do monkeys make and use tools?"
Me:  "No."
Little B.  "That's what I said, but it was wrong!"
Me:  "How did your teacher explain this to you."
Little B:  "She didn't."
Me:  "Well, monkeys do use things like sticks to reach for food that is too far to reach with their hands, so I suppose that is considered a tool.  But, they don't make tools.  It's not like they sharpen a point on the stick, so they can stab the food with it. Was this question on a test?"
Little B:  "No, it was on the computer."
Me: "Did your teacher say anything about it?"
Little B:  "Yes, she said, 'Move on!'"


When I related this conversation to my husband, he said, "Why on earth would you even ask a child that age such a question?"


Why indeed?  


It is a perfectly logical question, if you have an agenda.


If you believe in evolution undirected by any intelligent being, then it is important that there isn't too big a gap between monkeys and men.  If you don't want to accept that man was created in God's image, then he can't be allowed to be too much of an improvement over his primate relatives.  So, you want to be sure to instill the idea early that monkeys are nearly human.  The notion that they make and use tools is one way to do that.


A young child does not have a sophisticated understanding of the word "tool."  I expect most of them think of a hammer or screwdriver or saw....none of which any monkey has ever made as far as I know.  Monkeys use items they find in nature such as sticks and rocks.  They do not significantly alter them or put them together with screws.  They may use a rock to break open something containing food, but they don't wire the rock on to a stick to increase leverage, and thus create a primitive hammer.


So, I think I helped my granddaughter to a correct perspective on the actual ability of monkeys.  I don't suppose, however, that the other 20-some children in the class had a conversation that clarified the concept.  


Knowledge is built little by little, piece on top of piece.  When misinformation is part of the foundation, the result is a perversion of truth.

My Prayer Today

The statistics feature on blogger allows me to know what country hits on my blog are coming from.  Recently, I have been getting almost one hit per day from Japan.  I have wondered if the same person is routinely reading my blog.  If that is the case, I want you to know that I have been praying for you and those you love today.  I hope you are safe.

When March Winds Blow

The wind began roaring like a freight train last evening and continued through the night.  This morning we awakened to gray skies, rain, swaying branches and retreating snow.  The combination of rain and wind seems to make the snow disappear rapidly.

On days like this, the background music in my head always begins playing a song I learned in early grade school.

When March winds blow over valley and hill,

You hear them go with a trumpeting shrill,

And you may know springs coming,

When you hear the March winds blow.

I suppose we learned that song for a spring concert.  It has been rumbling around in my head for nearly 60 years now and always bubbles to the surface on a windy day in March giving me hope of the warmth, sunshine and new growth of spring.

It may be a gloomy miserable day, but it is full of promise.

Lowering My Expectations

I believe I have reached a point where I now expect that if a company can mess things up, they will.

When we returned from Florida a few weeks ago, I was denied a boarding pass on our flight, because I was traveling with my mother-in-law whose name is the same as mine.  My husband had dutifully entered our different middle initials when he booked the flight, but either the middle initials got dropped or somehow changed so that we had the same middle initial.  In any event, US Air would not give me a boarding pass even though we were both present at the counter with our passports that clearly showed different birth dates and different middle initials.  They claimed there was no way for them to fix the problem.  Please note:  there is apparently no room for common sense here.

Because my mother-in-law is 92 and was traveling in a wheelchair, I needed to be on the same flight with her.  She required my assistance in the bathroom.  We finally bought me a new one-way ticket under my first and middle names, since we were out of time to solve the problem and still make the flight.

Weeks have passed and the situation is still not resolved.  The flights were booked through Orbitz.  They insist that my husband correctly entered our initials and that this information was passed on electronically, so that US Air should have had the correct information.  They say if the names and initials had been identical, a ticket would not even have been issued.  US Air refuses to accept responsibility.  They insist that the middle initials were the same.  We had flown down to Florida on Delta.  Apparently Delta "subcontracted" us to US Air for the return flight.  Delta had indicated that they had to take the space out from between our first names and initials in order to override the problem and issue the boarding passes on the way down.  US Air insisted that they couldn't do that.

So...we are now trying to get someone to give us a refund.  You can guess how that is going.

A couple of weeks ago, I saw my dentist.  We agreed that I needed a crown on one of my teeth and that I should proceed with trying to get prior approval from the insurance company.  I told him this was going to result in a problem.  A couple of years ago, the insurance company got mixed up and thought that I had a crown on tooth #19 when it was, in fact, my husband who had the crown on that tooth.  The dentist put a lot of effort into straightening the mess out.  Now that I do need a crown on #19, I figured it would be another hassle.  Sure enough, today I got a denial on payment for the crown, because I already had one according to their records.  This actually didn't upset me.  I fully expected it.

So, I guess I have reached a point where I expect companies to be inept.  From here on out, I will be pleasantly surprised by competency...and that is a sad commentary on our society.

Thin Air

I have just spent the last week in Dillon, Colorado, surrounded by majestic snow-capped peaks.  When it isn’t snowing, the sky is vivid blue, but sunshine or snow, the air is thin.  Although I normally live less than 500 feet above sea level, the mile-high city of Denver doesn’t bother me.  However, moving up to 9000 feet in Dillon makes a noticeable difference.  Walking up two flights of stairs is work…especially when carrying groceries.  One afternoon, I went ice-skating at the arena in Breckenridge (9600 ft) and was surprised by how quickly I tired.

I am sure that if I moved to Dillon or the vicinity, my body would accommodate over time.  The fatigue and shortness of breath while climbing stairs would eventually go away.   In Ottawa, at 200-some feet above sea level, I have skated the nearly 5 miles distance on the Rideau Canal both ways with ease.  Given enough time to adjust, I suspect I could skate for hours in the mountains of Colorado too. 

Our bodies have an amazing capacity to adjust to different environmental conditions.  I think that is a good thing.

But…

I’m afraid we also accommodate to changing conditions in ways which are not good.  I am afraid that we as a society are breathing air that is dangerously thin.

We have hundreds of TV channels to watch, but so little worth watching.  The more that is available, the more the quality seems to decline.

Closets are stuffed with clothing…lots of cheap stuff that is trendy for a season and more or less disposable.  Quality of workmanship is passé.

The shelves in our groceries stores offer an abundance and tremendous variety, but as a society we are consuming “junk food” and becoming increasingly obese and unhealthy.

My husband and I both remember as young people listening to adult family members discuss and debate issues of substance.  How often do today’s young people experience this?  If the discussions occur, are younger people even present for them, or are they in their rooms watching TV, or perhaps, physically present, but busy texting their friends about something empty-headed?

For those of us who still bother to attend church, what of our services?  Are they doctrinally rich or are they emotional, feel-good fluff?  When we inhale, do we receive something dense enough to invigorate us spiritually?

The air is becoming thin in both the world and the church.  It makes my chest hurt to breath it in, but I don’t want to become used to it.