Posted by Petra on October 09, 1999 at 03:04:05:
In Reply to: Re: Back to happier thoughts... posted by Marcia on October 08, 1999 at 08:05:49:
: Much. And I'll bet it didn't hurt a bit.
Marcia, of course not, how could it? And the only reason why you haven't heard my list of favorites before is that it never was a topic here. But other things were. That's the only difference. After all, frontier history is one of the premier topics on this board, at least more so than ice-cream flavors. I usually don't have very much time to surf the net, so I mostly just read some of the posts that jump out to me, never all. And those with the headlines relating to history usually jump out more so to me than the more general, conversational posts. That's why, if I write anything at all, it's usually a response to one of the history or "issue" topics. And those topics often lead to discussions. Not necessarily arguments, but discussions. That's the only reason why you mostly just see me participating in issue threads, especially the controversial ones (that naturally tend to be the more interesting ones than those where everyone agrees). But that doesn't mean that I can't do any different. I'd love to have the time to chat away here during the day, but it isn't possible. I would also like to say that I especially like your posts, Marcia, and I love your humor. You may feel that you will never see eye to eye with me, but I never thought of our posts that way. I would love to meet you, just like I would love to meet everyone else here, one fine day some year in June... I have read again my posts of the last couple of days and have thought about your complaints. I still don't see what could reasonably be read as an insult or a lack of manners, and that's why I don't and will not offer any apologies. Also, the reason why none of this upsets me is not that it's either way to me, as you assumed. This would mean being indifferent, and that I am not. Instead, the reason is that I consider these discussions as a discourse, carried on with reason and always calmly, no matter how much the views may differ. If discussions like these could upset me, then I wouldn't be able to go through one work week without a heart attack.
To finish this, let me tell you about some more things that I love, that make me close my eyes and dream, or that give me hope:
There is a palm tree next to the interstate highway on the way from Yuma to San Diego. For almost a year, I used to drive that way twice a month, and everytime I was waiting to see that palm tree. It stands in the middle of the mountains, where I always had to put in a lower gear because it was too steep for my small car. There are no other trees around, especially no other palm trees anywhere in sight. In winter, I saw that palm tree in a snow storm. Solid rock seems to be all around it, but it still found a small gap to grow. I love that palm tree for its strength.
Do you know that the forests smell different in every part of the world? Each is so distinct that I remember all the places where I have been by their forests' smell. Sitting on a rock, looking down into a canyon. That's where life is real. That's where you would only smile about the memory of having been upset over our little discussion.
The last time that I was moved to tears was at a school concert. My daughter's junior high school offers classes in band, orchestra and choir, and when parents cannot afford to rent an instrument from the local music store, then the school will give those children instruments to use. This is the one area where I praise what "official sides" here do for poor families, who usually have a so much harder time to cope with life here as compared to other industrialized countries. The children in my daughter's school come from very different areas, some wealthy, some middle-class, some from gang ridden parts of town. For once, all the families came, brought all the brothers and sisters to the elegant little suburban concert hall. Many came as they were, in shorts or work clothes, it was walking distance. The choir came in, and I was almost surprised to see some of those who, as I knew, come from the really tough neighborhoods. And they stood there so nervous, not tough at all for once, even those who are considered trouble makers during the school day! And then they sang, and played their violins and violas and cellos and even the bass, and it was full of joy and showed so much hard work and talent! And I thought: If not much else, they still have the music. An evening I like to remember for the hope it gave me.
Have a good night! And much strength and hope to you too, for whatever you may need it! We all do.
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