One of those Facebook trends is going around wherein everyone’s writing quizzes to find out how well other people “really” know them. As of yet, I haven’t scored 100% on any of these and the only person to score 100% on mine was my husband–I tried to make mine easy. It’s easy to feel down about these things. “Crap. Do I really know anyone? Does anyone really know me?”

What is a good indication of what it means to “know” me or to know the others in my life?

I often tell Eric “I know you.” These words are used to explain how I know he’s had a bad day or that he’s frustrated or that he’s ready to go home from a party or even that he’s hungry. He repeats the same phrase to me quite often too. Eric and I work. My relationship with him is by far the most rewarding and meaningful relationship I have. We’ve been married for nearly four years now. Now, looking at our relationship, I understand what it meant when, at our wedding, our pastor discussed that “two were becoming one.” I understand him and when I’m not being selfish, I can often anticipate his needs and desires. I know him.

But what of relationships outside of romantic partnership? Those who we don’t “know” in the biblical sense? How do we know that we know someone? What does it mean, in that context to “know” someone?

It seems in the age of Facebook we’ve equated closeness in relationships to the memorization of trivial facts. We seem to feel valued if and only if people have chosen to fill their brains with mundane factoids about our existence.

It’s like establishing your “Indie Cred” when you’re standing in line to attend a concert. Go stand in any queue outside a local independent music venue and you’ll inevitably hear conversation bites (or 5) that go roughly like this:

Speaker 1: “Man, I can’t believe it’s been [insert number between 1-9] years since I’ve seen [insert relevant band name] live.”

Speaker 2: “I bet they’ll open up with [insert obscure song from least popular album].”

Speaker 1: “They recently got a new [insert instrument] player because the old one [choose one of the following: joined a new band; died; found Jesus].”

Speaker 3: “[Insert first name only of lead singer] is such an inspirational modern day poet.”

You get the point. Almost everyone stands around spewing factoids in an effort to sound interesting and hip. They attempt to assure everyone close by that they know as much as everyone else. No one is talking to the person or persons they’re with, really. Instead, they’re justifying their presence at the show, proving their fandom.

Soon, however, the concert will begin and the truth will be revealed. Some of those same chatterboxes will leave early. Some will boo the very bands their esteemed band of choice has chosen to tour with. Some will become so occupied by the way others in the crowd treat them that the music will no longer be their focus. Some will become so drunk it’s hard to believe they’ll remember how to get home, much less how the show went. Some will sing only to the hits and simply sway through the more obscure tunes.

Others, perhaps those more quiet in line, know that concerts are messy and sometimes uncomfortable, but will still stay put until the house lights come on and the room begins to empty. Others will lose themselves in the moment and not even notice the hair from the person in front of them that tickles their face or the elbow or oversized pocketbook bruising their ribs. They’ll keep smiling even as the tall person steps in front of them and blocks their view; it’s about the sound, after all. Still others will sing loud and proud every lyric, even though their voice is shameful and their throat aches from distress.

One person can easily find themselves in one of the above groups one night and in the opposite on another or even during a different moment in the show. The facts they can cite about the band matter little, after all, they can come, as mine often do, from a Google search moments before leaving for the concert. What truly matters is how they experience and interact with the music in the moment.

The facts about me can be learned by those who happens to request access to them via Facebook–and I’m not particularly picky about this “friending” business. But will those requesters stay with me until the house lights come on?

I posted an update to my “Read 52 This Year Blog” allowing myself to admit that I was way behind on my goal to read a total of 52 books this year.  I’m 15 books behind.  I also haven’t updated here in quite some time.  As I’m sitting here writing I’m reminded of the fact that I also haven’t worked out on the elliptical machine today.  I also badly need to repaint my toenails.  I need to spend some time writing…and researching.  I need to update my syllabi for Fall and revise my hybrid course.  I need to finish up grading for a class that ends next Monday.  There’s just so much to do.  Maybe the next book on my to read list should address time management–how to get everything you want to accomplish done; how to prioritize; how to multitask.  I’ve even tried forgoing sleep…and still there are just not enough hours in the day.

But, truth be told…I’d be miserable if I wasn’t so busy!  No idle hands here…

One thing I hate about being home sick is that the quality of daytime television has really gone down hill. I remember when I was a kid I used to watch a number of morning cartoons and then the Price is Right in the afternoon. Somehow watching Bob Barker made everything seem okay. I also remember watching the Whammy and shows like the Facts of Life. These shows were great at keeping my interest and helping me forget about how terrible I might feel.

Today, however, I’ve been home with the flu, trying to get rest on the couch and struggling to find something worth watching. I found an episode of Scrubs, but since I’ve seen every Scrubs episode ever made many times, I hardly found it entertaining. So I decided to flip on the CW to see what was happening there.

At first there was some type of TV Court show. I don’t remember which Judge was on, but I know it wasn’t Judy. I watched for a few minutes and was struck by how judgmental and confrontational the judge was. I know her goal is to make a judgement about the case, but there seemed to be a number of comments directed simply at the character of the parties involved in the case. These comments were merely seated in assumptions based on stereotypes. While the case was interesting, the presenting of evidence was painful and the attitude of all parties was obnoxious. Why do people watch these shows, I wondered? Still, rather than changing the channel, I decided to leave it on that show as I took a nap. When I awoke, The Steve Wilkos Show was on.

I’ve seen my share of daytime talk shows, but this one really unsettling. It was one of these episodes where one person accuses another of something terrible and they spend the episode talking about how awful that person is since they did this terrible thing (that no one has proof of). Then, at the end, they reveal the results of a lie detection test and further villainize that one person. The audience joins in the hatred of this one person and everyone but the host is painted as either evil, stupid or irrational.

I used to catch one of these shows from time to time when I was younger, but they seemed much different then. Tamer, perhaps. For one, the hosts in the past seemed hesitant to cast judgement on any person until we all heard the facts. On this show, we had Steve Wilkos belittling people left and right. He actually called one guy a rat at the end–saying that he saw him in a gutter and almost stepped on him.

Fighting and yelling seem commonplace on these shows now. I remember this behavior was once thought to be outlandish and so inappropriate that Jerry Springer was considered controversial and only aired at night.

Yet this is taking place during the middle of the day and what’s more is that there seem to be versions of this crap on every channel I look at. All of these shows seems terribly scripted to me and I wonder if any of these people are remotely “real” or whether it’s all just acting.

Even more, I wonder why they are so popular? Why do people watch them? Clearly, I watched an entire episode of the Steve Wilkos Show today, but why? I found it distasteful and fake, yet I stayed on the channel long enough to find out if the father had “really” molested his daughter. Why?

It’s not just the CW either. Right now every channel we have (and we don’t have cable) except PBS either has a daytime talk show of this caliber, a TV court show, or a daytime soap opera.
What happened to shows like The Facts of Life and the Price is Right? When did overdramatized, interpersonal squabbles become the only facts of life we’re interested in?

Will the next generation have nostalgic memories not of the soothing voice of Bob Barker, but instead of the judgmental accusations of Steve Wilkos?

For lunch, Eric and I decided to try out the Sunday buffet at our favorite local Chinese restaurant, Tau Tau.  We went there for dinner a few weeks back.  It was a very relaxing meal, complete with a small taste of orange sherbet and warm damp towels at the end.  The buffet today didn’t include these perks, but it was enjoyable all the same.  It’s a small buffet, which in some ways is nice.  None of the food was cold and nothing looked like it had been sitting for most of the morning.  They had real chopsticks for use, rather than those wooden disposable ones.

My favorite part of any Chinese dining experience is receiving the fortune cookie at the end.  I’m not sure why I enjoy this experience so much.  The cookie isn’t particularly tasty and the fortunes, in recent years, have become mere statements of fact, rather than a look into the future.  Typically, I read the fortune and then toss it across the table to Eric saying, “How is that a fortune?”  

Today’s cookie fortune, however, I silently put into my pocket to return to later.  My cookie came with the following advice, printed in red and seated between two smiley faces: “You will be wise not to seek too much from others.”

I first found it darkly charming that these words were surrounded by the smiley emoticons.  Most fortunes do, if I remember correctly, but this set, in particular, seemed to mock.  Whether they mocked me or the fortune I can’t be certain.  With certainty I can only say that it seemed so conflicting to present such a grim message regarding the reliability of others, with a smile. 

Smile or not, I held on to these words, in my pocket all day.  I hate to sound morose, but I believe in these words.  I believe there is much to be gained from standing on your own two feet and I also believe that people, for better or worse, cannot always be relied upon.

On the one hand, I tend to be a rather independent person. I like to figure things out for myself and I like to do things my own way.  I resent people who are too quick to tell me how they would do something and I can quickly become impatient with those who offer advice before I ask.  To be honest, I find it insulting.  This response, I believe, was instilled in me from childhood.  My parents were quick to challenge me to find my own solution to problems, to be resourceful and to think critically.  I believe I am a better person because of these experiences.  Thus, I think it’s true that one is wise to not seek too much from others; some things can only be learned through independence, and personal perseverance.  You can’t just have everything handed to you–not even if the person handing things out is doing so out of great love and kindness.  

The other reason I believe in the fortune from that cookie is simply because others are, as a rule, limited in their abilities, particularly in their abilities to give of themselves.  People like to be in their comfort zone.  They like to do what makes them feel best and most safe, most of the time.  I’m included in this lot.  As a result, it is difficult for me to really expect too much from most other people.  I say most.  I expect a great deal from my husband.  He took a vow saying he would do many things which are often difficult.  Others, however, haven’t; yet I think we tend to romanticize the role of other people in our lives.  I think I watched Now and Then too many times as a youth.  I somehow got this picture of lasting, selfless friendships that start from birth and continue with you until old age. I grew up believing in community, in people taking great interest in the lives of those around them.  This was true of my hometown community, but I have hardly seen traces of it since I became an adult.  Perhaps I’m responding to the changing state of our nation.  People simply don’t stay in one place anymore.  People devalue living, breathing people just two doors away for those they’ve reached out to on the Internet or even through their video game consoles.  People let their work and careers consume them.  People are busy, too busy.  We let our relationships fade.  I’m busy, too busy.  I let my relationships fade.

My husband, Eric, and I went to Fountainhead Regional Park yesterday.  It wasn’t a beautiful day to be on the water.  It was dreary.  The park was abandoned but by the two of us, a few dedicated fishermen, and two young men running the bait and tackle shop.  We walked out onto the pier and stood there for quite some time.  It had recently rained, so  despite the many wooden benches throughout the park, there was no place to sit.  This fact bothered Eric little.  He had brought his camera and was deeply engaged in capturing the bleak moments of the park after rain.

I had a volume of Joan Didion with me that I had intended to read, but I never feel content reading while standing, unless it’s aloud, as part of my teaching.  So, I stood there and took in the the scenery.  Fountainhead boasts the widest part of the Occoquan Reservoir.  To the right of the pier, you could see the river narrow as a small branch traveled off into the North.  Straight ahead, I could take in the expanse of the reservoir.  One tree, in particular, caught my eye as I gazed off into the distance.  I pointed it out to Eric, hoping he too might find it worthy to capture with his camera; the resulting photograph stands as the header of this blog today; other moments are available at his own blog.

This tree really kept my attention.  I was struck how it seemed drawn to the reservoir; it dared to dip its branches far more closely to the water’s edge than any other tree. It was separate and daring; it somehow managed to command our attention, far more than even the lively, hissing goose in the water merely a foot away.