The Nuances of Gratitude

At a buffet restaurant in Massachusetts, customers give thanks before obtaining their meals.

    Some people give thanks before eating. Their thankfulness is heartfelt. Other people recite grace in a rote fashion with little attentiveness. God must perceive these nuances.
    Gratitude is a form of humility. Not everyone exhibits it. For some people, personal achievements breed smugness and from smugness comes ingratitude.
     Thankfully—pun intended—many people do express gratitude. They are rewarded for their thankfulness. Studies reveal that showing gratitude improves one’s well being.
     But not all of the time. Sometimes expressions of gratitude becomes routine and expected. The recipients of gratitude sense a lack of sincerity.
     Yesterday was Thanksgiving. I gathered with relatives. Grace was recited before we feasted on a Turkey dinner. I joined the prayer but without sincerity. Now, in retrospect, I regret doing so.

Change Afoot in Bookstores?

     The man was a picture of contentment. Surrounding him were a mix of eclectic books, several which piqued his curiosity. He browsed inside an independent bookstore in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
     He ignored a machine situated at the end of an isle. Maybe he should have paid it attention. That machine could someday affect his browsing habit.
     The printer was an Espresso Book Machine (seen in the bottom photo). It prints out paperback books on demand. If a customer requests a book unavailable in the store, the manager can print a copy as the customer waits. Quality is top notch. Only a few minutes are required to fulfill an order.
     The convenience is wonderful but there are ramifications to consider.
     If the bookstore can satisfy a customer’s request with a machine, what incentive will it have to stock a wide range of books? Printing on demand lessens the store’s financial risk. Rather than stocking an obscure title, why not wait until a customer orders it? The book would then be printed on the spot.
     That scenario would kill browsing.
     Exploring shelves of obscure books is the attraction of browsing. Eclectic titles are what sets apart independent bookstores from chain stores.
     Or maybe the Espresso Machine will enhance browsing. The bookstore will stock more eclectic books, knowing that customers could still order—on demand—mainstream books from popular authors.
     Less than fifty of these Espresso Machines operate at bookstores in the United States. Soon they’ll be hundreds of stores using these machines. These printers could become a transformative force in the book industry.
     I’m hoping that indie bookstores do the right thing. They’ll keep on stocking eclectic books. Searching and discovery makes a bookstore special.

Espresso Book Machine prints books on demand.

Ball Stand

     A homeowner sells used golf balls. His property borders a country club. The balls land in his yard.
     Nobody in person collects the money. Customers drop cash into a jar. An honor system prevails like at a farm stand. I doubt anyone steals the money or the balls. By and large, people are honest in this suburban area. They can be trusted.
     Would this honor method succeed in a city? Probably not. Even though plenty of city dwellers are honest, it takes only one thief to empty a jar of money. And thieves are more apt to live in cities.
    Sometimes you must trust people before you can trust them.

Empty Seat Syndrome

Citizens recite 'The Pledge of Allegiance' at the start of a town hall meeting in my town last week.

     Why do people avoid front row seats?
     I attended a Town Hall meeting. The moderator announced, “There’s always empty seats up front.” He directed his remark to citizens standing in the back. A few individuals moved up but most of them remained in place.
     People anticipate boredom from lectures and civic meetings. If monotony kicks in, they want to close their eyes. But they can’t nod off from row one. That location is conspicuous.
     Front row sleepyheads risk embarrassment. Other row sleepyheads risk nothing.
     Attitudes are different at entertainment venues. Close up seats are coveted. There’s no boredom.
     The litmus test of a speaker’s reputation is whether or not front row seats are occupied.

Opposite Reactions

     A helicopter flew overhead while I strolled through a park. I assumed an emergency had happened. Lights flashed on official vehicles parked nearby. The aircraft, which descended behind a building, was probably a med flight.
     A pair of teenage boys jogged by. They were high school athletes on a practice.
     “What’s up with the helicopter?” I said.
     “A motorcyclist crashed,” said one of the boys. “Splattered himself all over Forest Street.”
     The word splattered was spoken with emphasis and jocularity. This boy, I sensed, cared not a whit for the cyclist.
     My reaction to the news was different. Even though the motorcyclist was unknown, I felt a felt a twinge of concern for him.
     I didn’t fault the athlete for being callous. I might have reacted the same way when I was his age. Boys and young men often lack sensitivity. Indifference to strangers is burnished in their hard wiring. When that boy grows into middle age, compassion might bubble to his surface.
     Compassion reveals maturity.

Uniform Inattention

        When musicians wear plain uniforms, they minimize distractions. Audiences better focus on music.
     A trumpeter (in the top photo) wore black and white while playing Taps. Behind her, members of a community chorus were dressed in a similar outfit. They preformed during a Memorial Day ceremony in my town.
     At Jordan Hall in Boston, a conductor (in the bottom photo) wore black. So did the musicians of the youth ensemble that he was leading.
     Smartphones are making it harder for audiences to focus on music. While attending a classical concert at Harvard University, I noticed several audience members staring into their phones. One of those people browsed a shopping website. Some of them sat together; their phones created a line of bluish incandescence. It marred the view of people seated behind them. Worse, it made it hard to follow the progression of the music.
     All of these people were twenty something years old.
     I resisted an urge to photograph those phone users, or should I say, those rude SOB’s. Management had requested that no cameras be used.
     Music has the capacity to unify us. When mobile technology intrudes upon a concert, that unity is forgone.

Muted Enthusiasm

     Where were the Halloween displays? Last year they adorned lots of front yards. Walking through neighborhoods was like patronizing a museum of ghoulishness.
     This year was different around here. Fewer homeowners put out displays.
     Why the change?
     Nature might explain the discrepancy. The colors of the Autumn leaves were muted this season. Better said, the colors were terrible.
     Blasé colors might have resulted in blasé enthusiasm for holiday.