We have fast food restaurants that have drive-thru windows that make grabbing a meal even faster.
Electronic companies are continuously coming out with new and improved devices that make accessing information faster and people act fast to buy them. They may even pay extra for faster delivery.
Legislatures argue about increasing speed limits so we can drive faster.
Restaurants offer curbside delivery for take-out so we can get where we're going faster.
Strong athletes are tempted to take performance enhancing drugs so that they can move even faster.
Schools are implementing more stringent curriculum's so students can learn to read, write, and do arithmetic faster.
Advertisements for items that encourage us to slow down and enjoy the moment are rare, unless they're from pharmaceutical companies that have developed drugs to help us adjust to this "fast" paced world.
It's on the insane side, isn't it?
Why am I thinking about how accelerated living has become? I was listening to the novel, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith on CD, and fell in love with this passage about how Mr. Jenson, a janitor at main character, Francie's school, signed the students' autograph books:
"At graduation, the children asked the principal to sign the first page of their autograph book out of respect to his position but they valued Mr. Jenson's autograph more and he always got the second page to sign. The principal signed quickly in a great sprawling hand. But not Mr. Jenson. He made a ceremony out of it. He took the book over to his big roll-top desk and lit the light over it. He sat down, carefully polished his spectacles and chose a pen. He dipped it in ink, squinted at it, wiped it off and re-dipped it. Then he signed his name in a fine steel-engraving script and blotted it carefully. His signature was always the finest in the book."
After hearing this, Mr. Jenson immediately became one of my favorite fictional characters—a man who makes a ceremony out of something as simple as signing his name. Can you just imagine how he makes a pot of soup or sets the dinner table?
After hearing this, Mr. Jenson immediately became one of my favorite fictional characters—a man who makes a ceremony out of something as simple as signing his name. Can you just imagine how he makes a pot of soup or sets the dinner table?
It also made me think about how many people sign their name in our "fast" paced world. My signature looks like white noise and my husband's looks like the activity on a heart monitor. And we're not alone. The skill of penmenship has become a lost art.
How did I feel?
Calmer. It amazed me how an activity as simple as slowly writing your name can change the pace of a day. Try it!
How do you sign your name? Would your own mother recognize it, could it pass as art or somewhere in between?
KICK BACK SONG OF THE WEEK:
Simon and Garfunkle (and surprise guests) remind us to slow down with Feelin' Groovy.
KICK BACK BOOK OF THE WEEK:
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith
As I listen to this story while I drive, I find myself wondering, What took me so long to read this novel? The characters, the writing, the story are so engaging, written in a time when authors took their time describe scenes and dig deep into lives and situations. I am truly loving this book:
A LITTLE SOMETHING EXTRA
From my novel, A Stop in the Park. Frustrated Michael can't understand why his family was so impatient when he wanted to stop in Dupont Circle on their way to dinner to play a game of blitz chess:
"Dupont Circle was bursting with entertainment, and there was nothing wrong with hanging out for a little while. What was the hurry? Dash off to dinner so the girls don't become uninterested in the restaurant, then rush back home so everyone can take their places: Emily and Megan in front of the television; Jamie ogling the computer screen; and him upstairs in bed scanning fifteen hundred channels of digital cable, unsuccessfully seeking something of interest to watch until sleep set in."
