One of the pleasures of one’s life work, be it writing, parenting, domestic engineering, or that eight-to-five job, is what a person is forced to learn, and how that forced education enhances one’s life. Parenting has given me a lot–how to be a line ref in soccer, how to treat the feather plume in a shako (marching band hat), and how to care for cockatiels. From domestic engineering, I learned (and am learning still) about plumbing, TV cabling, termites, how to cook, and so forth. From the old job, I learned how to read an insurance policy.
From being a writer, I’ve learned how to use a computer. The word processor was the first “killer app” for me, and led me to be a relatively early adopter of the technology. Writing has led me to be an enthusiastic consumer of non-fiction, and of documentaries, and of educational programming.
This past week, as every week, I learned a lot.
Last Sunday, I learned my 20-something daughter did not know who Arlo Guthrie was. Nor had she heard of Woody Guthrie. She had heard of Bob Dylan, and she did know the song, “This Land Is Your Land,” but thought it was older than it is. I realized how much cultural lore is lost from each generation–a name known by everyone in my generation becomes obscure in subsequent ones. I might not know who Woody Guthrie was, but for Bob Dylan, and the folk revival of the early 60s.
On Monday, I learned what a marcona almond tastes like. The ingredient had popped up in a couple recipes I wanted to try. They are expensive, and not sold everywhere. I found them, bought some, and used them in a recipe. They’re good, more like macadamia nuts in both texture and flavor, than they are like regular almonds. The recipe, by the way, was Moroccan Chicken with Carrots.
On Tuesday, I learned that a significant theme in my novel is Information Uncertainty. No matter how much information we have, it is never enough, and as for the information we do have, we can’t trust it, not really. And yet, there are still a ton of people walking around, acting as if they have all the answers, telling the rest of us what to do. How can they believe their own voices?
Wednesday was busy. I’m sure I learned a lot, but I haven’t had time to isolate any particular lesson.
Yesterday, I learned that everyone, of all ages, knows who Roger Ebert was: 20-somthings, 40-somethings, and 60-somethings all liked and respected him. What a life, well and gracefully lived.
Today is too new to know what I will learn, but I will keep my eyes and ears open.