Pleasantville?

2009-07-27T10:25:00.000-07:00

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds." Rom. 12:2a

A few weeks ago, I came to Trinity's yard sale determined not to bring back anything to replace the things I'd donated, but ended up with three boxes of craft and women's magazines dating from the late 1960's to the early 80's. They say you can't go home again but I'm finding you sure can make a lot of brief visits while immersing yourself in old (i.e., dated) women's magazines.

Ironically, one of the first magazines I picked up opened to a full-page photo of Farrah Fawcett in all her long-haired glory. An identical photo had accompanied an article on the internet a couple weeks earlier, at the time of Fawcett's death from cancer.

Initially, I was conscious of how different the magazines looked in the late sixties. There were very few colored photos or paintings at the top of articles. Most headings had only line drawings in black & white, so that the overall impression was of lots more words and much less color. Articles began near the front of the magazine but would then jump to page 94 or 161. (I remember in those days that I'd read the beginnings of all the articles and then continue through the magazine in consecutive order, finally taking each article up again as I came to the page on which it continued. It was easy to lose the thread of the topic that way but it was less annoying than flipping back and forth continually.)

By the mid-70's, there was more color and the articles began to be laid out so as to continue on consecutive pages. I suspect computers had a part to play in this, as one magazine "introduced" its readers to the young woman who had been hired to do computer layout. The whole blurb had a pioneering flavor to it, as though the editors were as amazed at this change in their professional lives as I am at having my own blog site!

Someone reading through these old magazines in the year 2209 would conclude that women from 1965 to 1985 spent every free minute knitting, crocheting and making macrame plant hangers. In my opinion, they would conclude that women's clothing styles were much more attractive than the ones worn in 2009, but they might be startled by how much hot pink, orange, teal and turquoise was worn. Also at the quantity of huge daisy & poppy patterns that graced everything from dresses to curtains to wallpaper. But we would appear to be a cheery bunch, with all that color & flowers.

It would appear we all smoked cigarettes after the age of 25, judging by the number of tobacco ads. But then as now (and probably in 2209), everyone was worried about weight and also looking for the best chocolate dessert recipes.

It came as a surprise to me how many articles were written by authors of real note: Margaret Mead, William F. Buckley, Peg Bracken, Cleveland Amory, and others. And not ALL articles were interviews with entertainment personalities.

The most striking difference to me was the number of short stories and novelettes published in Woman's Day and Family Circle, not just in Redbook, which was famous for its fiction and its annual Redbook Fiction Contest. These are really interesting, deeply moving stories, some written by quite well-respected writers of the time. When did we find time to read them, amongst all those craft projects we must have been working on? Judging by their length, we had longer than 5-minute attention spans back then. Nor did we mind not having nicely tied-up conclusions to the stories, there was room for unresolved endings.

Come to think of it, those folks in 2209 may not be reading old magazines at all; their attention spans may be too short for anything except instant knowledge zapped directly into their brains by some new technological equivalent of iKindle.

An article from the 60's titled, "But Mom, We're in Love" reflects the changes from then to now. It is an "as told to," with all names and locations changed for privacy. It is told by a middle-aged social worker, happily married, with a 20-something daughter who, after much subterfuge, admits to her parents she is living with her boyfriend in the large city where she works. The parents react with a level of grief and horror most parents would reserve these days for a daughter who has moved in with a serial killer. Each parent flies to the big city to put their case, the mother agonizes over the possibilities: pregnancy, heartbreak, the ruin of her daughter's and her own reputation. It ends happily with daughter and boyfriend choosing to marry the next year in a 275-guest wedding where the bride wears white, a choice that her mother finds it necessary to comment on.

I reflected that a writer has a considerably narrower range of timely topics to offer today's women. "Daughter living with boyfriend?" Who cares. "Daughter bearing and raising out-of-wedlock child?" Only if they come eight at a time or the father can be PROVEN to be an alien--from Mars, that is, not Mexico. No wonder current magazines consist of endless interviews with entertainment figures. Even the meaning of "current" has changed; I remember recently reading a charming interview with a well-known movie star in a six-month-old magazine in which she speaks of the joy in her perfect marriage. Ironically, their divorce had just made the news via the internet days before I read the article.

Less than 20 years after the social worker's dilemma, my own daughter moved in with her boyfriend. My ex-husband was somewhat less shaken than the parents in the article but he was not happy and felt we should strongly encourage her to marry the man. I, on the other hand, realized I preferred this arrangement to having her rush into a marriage that wouldn't last. (I had well-founded doubts about the long-term possibilities in the relationship.)

It's a different world, that's sure. I like having more color in the magazines; I miss the short stories and articles that were long enough to develop an idea. We may never see such an immersion in do-it-yourself projects again. I have accepted my daughter's current partner as my son-in-law despite their unmarried state. But reading of this mother's agony made me feel a nostalgia for a time when pretty much everyone knew the rules, even if they broke them.

Mind you, my response to my son, were he in such a situation, would be different because he is committed to the Lord and knows God's will in these things, therefore, like the Hebrew National hotdog people, he "answers to a higher power." I think of a comment Rev. David made to me recently that we can't demand the behavior from those who don't know Christ that we expect of each other in the Christian community. But do even I have a firm conviction myself regarding these behaviors? How much am I influenced daily by this changed culture?

The film "Pleasantville" a few years ago stirred up the same questions in my mind. Which was better, the predictable black-&-white world of the 1950's where everyone knew the rules but where those who wouldn't or couldn't keep them lived lonely lives? Or today's colorful world where there are no rules but there are also few guidelines? We, even those of us who live in Christ, must deal with the decisions made by others in a fallen world. "Creative tension" has a nice ring to it, but living it isn't such a pleasure at times.

I guess my mind could use some more renewing. Time to put aside the magazines and get out the Good Book. Blessings on all of my fellow searchers.

Going around in circles

2009-07-16T16:28:00.000-07:00

Ecclesiastes 3:2 (New King James Version)
2 A time to be born, And a time to die; A time to plant, And a time to pluck what is planted;

A friend whose parents are both in failing health is struggling with the thought of losing these two people who have been there for her through her growing up, marriage, divorce, remarriage, kid-raising, career–everything up to her current middle-age angst. Hey, there are reasons for middle-age angst! She’s a very together, highly successful woman with a husband, grown children and a satisfying if stressful career but she found herself completely undone Sunday at the realization that her life is about to change drastically.

For those of us who know our Lord Jesus Christ, neither our death nor the death of loved ones is an ending. As my friend remarked, though, it is "the end of the beginning" and any major change forces us to stop and reflect on what are our core beliefs, our sources of strength in adversity and grief, what matters most to us. By the time we hit those middle years, we know in our heads that we almost certainly will lose our parents to death well before our own time to go. But are we ever prepared? Really prepared? It doesn’t seem so.

After a good cry, my friend looked up and said, "Ironic, isn’t it, that my daughter is expecting her first baby? The druids believed in the cycle of life but we’re not supposed to believe in what the druids taught, are we?."

I think they were on to something myself. (Indeed, I think most religions other than Christianity are "on to something," we’re just blessed to have discovered more of the "something.") Maybe the druids missed the best part of the Truth, but there is a cycle to life and recognizing it is part of the understanding of God’s creation.

The day before this conversation, I was driving home at dusk and reflecting with annoyance that the days have been getting shorter for three weeks already. Soon the daylight hours–the only time I have any energy–will be over by dinnertime and I will waste my evenings reading murder mysteries when I "ought" to be doing more worthwhile things like gardening, calling my parishioners, going for walks. Poor me! Suddenly I was overwhelmed with an awareness of this very cycle: yes, the days will get shorter, the flowers will die back (I won’t have to do any more weeding & feeding), the tomatoes will be eaten or canned, the trees will drop their leaves and stand stark against metal skies, Advent will come and Christmas, the hope of New Year’s, the longer days....and on and on as it has been since God spoke this incredible world into creation so long ago. My place in it will have come and will go, my children and grandchildren will follow the cycle and at the proper time Christ himself will return and bring the new Jerusalem with him. Then we will all join in the new creation with–I assume–its own cycles but without the grief of human death. The cycle is part of the wonderful order of God’s creation, the bringing of order out of chaos!

What would it be like if there was no dependability to the cycle? If I got up on July 15 and to my surprise the sun set at 4:30 and snow fell? Then on the 16th, it was 95 degrees and the coneflower I just bought was wilting form the sudden heat? A little confusing, certainly. But God, as usual, had a better idea. He throws in just enough unpredictability to keep things interesting: a late frost, a tornado here and there. But we know he’s still running things. Thank God!
So when the days get short, I’m going to lay in a good stock of murder mysteries and enjoy the time he’s provided for me to kick back. Soon, the days will get longer and I’ll be working until nine p.m. For now, it’s the reading part of the cycle.

SheilaBlog

Pleasantville?

Going around in circles