The Devil's Drop

After promising our children that we would spend the day at a water park, my husband and I got up early and got everything together, only to find out upon calling that the water park we had planned to go to was no longer open. Not exactly excited at the thought of driving the hour and a half necessary to reach the one in Greensboro, but even more unwilling to listen to the kids complain the rest of the day, we decided to bite the bullet and face the long drive. Since everything was already prepared, and the kids were very excited from the moment we woke them up with news of the trip, we were on the road within thirty minutes.

When we arrived, we took one quick tour to identify the coolest attractions, and Morgan immediately had her heart set on a new 40-foot slide, completely vertical, called “The Devil’s Drop.” Just looking at it made me dizzy, and I was positive she would turn around the moment she got up to the top. Ha! I was in for a good surprise…Morgan went up, dad following right behind; she reached the top and stood up there like a star ready to receive a standing ovation. She grinned and lay down, and once the bar was lifted, flying down she went. I expected to see her upset by the time reached the bottom, but once again my assumption was wrong. When her little body finally came to a stop, she sat up and looked radiant. Dad, on the other hand, came down like a bullet shot by a beginner, and banged elbows and knees he didn’t even know he had; never mind the fact that his neck and back were also sore by the time he finally stopped at the bottom.

When we left the slide, I asked her what she thought of it and if she was scared. Her answer made me smile: “Well, I was a little bit scared when I first lay down, but when I began to speed, I just closed my eyes and pretended I was flying.” She went on to tell me how wonderful it felt to just be taken away, and how she just surrendered to the water and the speed with no care in the world. Dad, instead, admitted that when he took one look he could just imagine the pile his bones would make at the bottom of the drop, if something went wrong, and went down fearing the worst. Because of it, his body remained stiff, and the hard, unforgiving slide did the rest.

Much of what we experience is strongly related to the way we approach it. When fear gets in the way, we instinctually brace for the worst, and our ‘stiffness’ brings us more damage than we would encounter if we allowed ourselves to ride the wave and let it carry us to destination. Faith is a great remedy against fear – as long as we ‘know’ we are going to be alright, most likely we will be, for most of the damage along the ride is rarely caused by external sources, but rather by our own apprehension and hesitation.

In this case, Morgan knew the ride was safe, even if at first look it was easy to think otherwise; dad, instead, invested too much energy into worrying about the ‘ifs’ and the ‘maybes’ that COULD have occurred, even if the chance they would was extremely low. Worry, someone said, is interest paid on a loan you might never receive, but sometimes it is even worse: Afraid to get hurt, we might forfeit the chance to live life at its fullest.

Book Review - "North Carolina Trivia," by John V. Wood

Did you know that if an unmarried couple check into a hotel and mark the “married” box on the registration form, then by the power vested by the state of North Carolina, they are officially husband and wife? And did you know that if you sing off-key for longer than 90 seconds in Nags Head, you can be fined? But, surely, you didn’t know that it is illegal, in North Carolina, to use an elephant to harvest a cotton field.

These, and many more interested tidbits, are what kept me glued to North Carolina Trivia, a book recently released by John V. Wood, a Johnston County middle school teacher.

I loved reading funny town names such as Boogertown, Half Hell and Tick Bite and to learn there are seven kinds of dolphins found off the North Carolina coast. Also, with all the talk of tea parties of late, I found it quite interesting that a native Tar Heel woman helped spark the resistance against British rule during the American Revolution with her own tea party.

North Carolina Trivia has something for everybody. Loaded with fun-to-read, informative tidbits about local fauna, history, education, sports, old laws and businesses (did you know the Pepsi-Cola Company was incorporated in North Carolina in 1902?), this book was an absolute delight to dive into.

The format is great and easy to search and read; divided in sections organized by topic, the book is written in a highly entertaining, humoristic tone which won’t fail to amuse the young and old alike. It is an informative guide for school-age children and a good tool for teachers wishing to inspire local love among their pupils.

North Carolina Trivia is definitely a book I would recommend to readers living in North Carolina, and to anyone interested in traveling or moving to our beautiful state.

http://www.johnvwood.com/index.html

The other face of the Homeless.

When walking down the paths of Moore Square in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina, one has the feeling of having reached the heart of the city.
The ancient oaks and poplar trees set a marked contrast to the rest of the world vibrating all around, and embrace each other as to create a net of protection over this tiny island of peace, from the hustle and bustle of the nearby City Market.
Moore Square is the home of Christine and some of her homeless friends.
I met Christine a few months ago, when I strolled downtown looking for a group of homeless to bring a box of groceries to. The first time I saw her, she was sitting on the edge of a small garden bed with a few others, and eyed me suspiciously when I walked right up to her and put the box down near her feet. I asked her if she knew anyone who could use the things I brought, and explained that the homeless guy I had bought those items for was nowhere to be found that morning. Christine told me that she was going to take care of distributing the groceries I brought, so I thanked her and left. As I walked off, I turned around to look, and saw that she had summoned several people I had not seen just a moment before, who were now all gathered around the cardboard box. Watching them go through the few treats I brought was like watching my children on Christmas morning: they were smiling and talking excitedly, and held fruit cups and packs of peanuts with the same reverence and enthusiasm that my kids display when opening an expensive new video game.
Since then, I have gone back several times to bring groceries and other small items. With each visit, their suspicion has thawed a little, and has now been completely replaced by gratefulness and excitement.
When I went to bring a box, two days ago, I saw that Christine’s backpack was badly torn, and her few belongings were falling out of it. I thought of the many backpacks in my storage room that my kids no longer use, and told Christine that I would bring them to her the next day. Yesterday morning, I went back with my younger son, my daughter, my friend Connie and her two children. Christine was in her usual spot sitting beside a few other homeless people, and greeted us with a big smile as we approached her “home”. I laid the bags near her other stuff, and we all talked for a while. While we sat, a small man, attired in a blue dress shirt and khaki pants walked up to my son, and handed him a small handful of change. Michael immediately refused, and tried to give the coins back, but the little man was adamant about him keeping them: he was touched by Michael’s compassion and good heart, and wanted to give something back.
Before we left, I told Christine that I would be back soon with more things; she just smiled and said: “You don’t have to bring anything. If you are in the area, just come by and talk to us for a while”.
Needless to say, we all left Moore Square with a lot more than we walked there with, and realized that there is another face to the homeless, a very human, warm and caring one. Beyond the rough edges, they are normal people, who enjoy human contact and love one another. Life circumstances have forced them to shed their ego and live humbly, but have not robbed them of human dignity and inner beauty. Their light shines from within and touches the heart of anyone who will take a moment to know them beyond their appearance. I don’t know if my son will ever again meet the little man who gave him the coins, but he will forever remember how, one day, an angel came up to him and gave him a gift from the heart, mindless of the fact that those coins could have been his next meal.

Fried Chicken vs. Tofu: Changing our perception without losing our pride.

Jesse Helms--the North Carolinian senator who was passionately loved and hated during his long political career--was laid to rest this morning in Raleigh, North Carolina. http://www.newsobserver.com/politics/politicians/helms/story/1135448.html
Throughout his political career, Senator Helms always stood by his extremely conservative opinions on sore issues such as race, sexuality, and education, and was mostly considered a bigot by the newer generations; yet, those who had a chance to talk to him and meet him in person, unanimously claim that Jesse Helms was as gentle as a lamb and a true southern gentleman, very approachable and always ready to chat.
Jesse Helms labeled himself a country boy who was fascinated by the sleepy ways of the South, and spent his life fighting to maintain those traditions of honor, respect and southern hospitality he was raised with. Jesse Helms was as southern as fried steak.
For those who are not familiar with Monroe, NC, it is hard to fully understand the lifestyle of this little town tucked into the warm blanket of Union County, which still reflects the southern charm people have only glimpsed at when watching ‘The Andy Griffith Show’ and ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’.
Most residents in Monroe know one another, and are united in their resolve to resist the northern influence, which has already changed iced tea into Espresso and fried chicken into Tofu, in many of the other larger towns and cities of the State.
Monroe is the town where Jesse Helms was born, eighty-six years ago. I never met the man, but I am sure that, in his youth, he was one of those kids whose mothers spent the day exchanging polite gossip with neighboring ladies, while snapping green beans for supper, or jarring homemade jam. Jesse Helms was the product of southern thinking, a gentleman who did what he thought was best from the perception he had inherited in his youth. He never understood the meaning of each individual being a necessary part of a whole, because, ultimately, he was taught a different reality.
As children, we paint our world with the colors that are handed to us, and absorb the perception which stems from the point of perspective our caregivers adopt, as they form their own views on life. To us, our family unit is the privileged keeper of universal truth, and we assume that our parents’ opinions are sacred and righteous. In attempting to understand this concept, we can just glimpse at children who rally against abortion, while they walk down the street holding huge signs inscribed with thoughts and opinions they don’t even understand: As Jesse Helms spent his life expressing Monroe’s values, these children speak the truth of their parents, and honestly believe that they are fighting for the greater good of all.
Our perception is directly impacted by our upbringing, and by the lifestyle we have identified with, but as we shift toward a greater understanding, people are becoming more open to embracing a merger between the new and the old, slowly shedding the fear of losing the individual identity born from pride in one’s heritage.
And hopefully, between now and then, somebody will come up with a recipe to make Tofu taste as good as fried chicken.