Manners

Steam billowed from the engine as a young woman descended the steps onto the platform. Her navy traveling skirt billowed around her and she felt raindrops on her neck. She hurried across the platform to seek shelter under the railroad building roof. She stood watching people hurrying to and fro in the rain, hailing cabs and greeting friends. When the platform was nearly empty, she looked around and spotted the ticket booth. Walking toward it, she bent her head to rummage in her purse for a small white card. Clutching it firmly in her white-gloved hand, she looked up to see a man standing several feet from her, watching her. She stopped. The man was tall and wearing a grey bowler hat. He bowed and spoke in a quiet, calm voice.
‘Miss Delia?’
The young woman blinked and slowly nodded.
‘I have come to escort you to your hotel, Miss Delia,’ the man said, smiling politely. Miss Delia glanced down at the card in her hand, which had the words The Denton Hotel stamped in gold letters on its surface. The man seemed to notice her hesitation and smiled more gently.
‘Yes, the Denton, Miss Delia,’ he said. ‘I understand you’re expected.’
‘Yes, yes I am,’ the young woman said, regaining her composure.
‘Then if you would just step this way, please.’ The man bowed and turned to gesture toward a black carriage waiting outside the station building. Miss Delia looked around the empty platform but the man answered her questioning glance.
‘Your luggage has already been retrieved, Miss Delia, and is waiting for you in the cab.’ He again indicated the waiting carriage, but there was no hint of impatience in his voice. Indeed, he seemed pleased to wait until the young woman was quite ready. The young woman allowed a flicker of surprise to cross her features, but a moment later she smiled faintly and stepped forward. The man walked beside her to the end of the platform, where he kindly opened the cab door and held out his hand to her. Miss Delia took his hand in hers and allowed herself to be gently lead into the dark carriage. He alighted after her and shut the door firmly behind him. With no verbal command, the cab immediately started off with a jolt. The young woman grasped the seat to steady herself and smiled sheepishly at the man. He returned her smile with a kind one of his own, then proceeded to gaze out the window as they trundled through the cobbled streets.
The rain was pounding the cab roof and night had fallen when they pulled up in front of the Denton Hotel. Before the young woman could move, the man had emerged from the cab and was standing holding an umbrella above the open door. The young woman, pleased with the man’s impeccable manners, took his hand once more as he helped her to the sidewalk. She heard him say ‘Miss Delia’ under his breath and nod to her politely as she passed. He escorted her up the steps and into the bright and warm hotel, his hand lightly pressing her elbow. As they stepped beneath a brilliant crystal chandelier, Miss Delia opened her mouth to thank the man but was interrupted.
‘Miss Delia,’ the man said softly, looking down at his shoes, ‘I was hoping you would allow me the pleasure of your company at dinner.’
The young woman, again surprised but quickly hiding it, smiled at the shy invitation.
‘It would only be polite,’ she said as the man looked again into her face, ‘to repay you for the kindness you have shown me.’
The man smiled his quiet, polite smile and bowed once more, leading the young woman into the dining room. The numerous tables were illuminated by candles glittering softly in golden brackets on the walls. The room was filled with the sound of murmuring diners and tinkling silverware as patrons of the Denton Hotel supped. Miss Delia hovered at the edge of the room, but the man lead her to an empty table in the very center of the sea of tables. The man pulled out a cushioned chair for the young woman, who sat amazed. She had never before been treated with such courteous behavior. The man took a seat across from her and removed his hat, placing it on the table next to him. Before the young woman had time to remove her gloves, a waiter materialized at their side with a bottle of fine wine. The man nodded and the waiter proceeded to pour drinks for each of them. Miss Delia began to suspect the man was more than he appeared, so as the waiter flitted away to bring menus, she opened her mouth to speak.
‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ she began as politely as she could, ‘but you seem to be a man of influence here. May I ask what you do?’
The man smiled.
‘I’m in...’ He paused, and for a fraction of a moment, the young woman thought she saw a strange glint in the man’s eye.
‘Public relations,’ he concluded just as the waiter reappeared. The man took the liberty of ordering for the both of them, bowing politely to the young woman all the while. Dinner passed in a flurry of exotic dishes and fine wine, and the young woman spoke with more and more ease as the evening wore on. When the last dish had been whisked away and the last of the wine drunk, the man rose and stepped around the table to lift Miss Delia from her seat. She held his arm gratefully as they walked back into the bright lobby of the hotel. At the counter the man left her to secure a lift, and the young woman’s eyes followed him as she murmured her name to the clerk. He handed her the key to Room Six, watching her as she watched the man return.
‘A most polite man, miss,’ the clerk said as she took the key from his gloved hand.
‘Oh yes,’ she breathed and clutched the key close to her heart. ‘A more perfect gentleman I’ve never met.’
In the lift the two were silent, with the key held tightly in the fist of the young woman and the grey bowler hat dangling lightly from the man’s hand. When the lift shuddered to a halt, the man waited for the young woman to pass before he stepped out into the hall after her. She walked slowly down the hall before facing the door to Room Six, where she inserted the key into the lock with trembling hands. She turned to face the man as he was placing his hat gently on his head.
‘This is where we must part, Miss Delia,’ the man said regretfully, bowing slightly. The young woman nodded, clasping her hands together. The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small red rose bud, which he offered to the young woman. She stared at it for a moment, before reaching out and taking it in her warm hand.
‘A parting gift,’ he said softly. He raised his hand to touch the rim of his hat, then turned and walked down the hall to the lift. The young woman gazed after him for a moment, then she too turned away and turned the key in the lock. She stepped into the room, stared one more time down the glowing hall, then closed the door with a snap.
The following morning found the hotel staff congregated in a muttering, shuffling group outside the door of Room Six. A whisper through the huddle told that the young woman to whom the room was rented had vanished mysteriously in the night, leaving nothing behind. In fact, the room contained no trace of anyone having been there at all, save a tiny rose bud, just beginning to bloom, gently resting on the bedside table.

A young woman accepted the helping hand of a porter as she climbed onto the train. She wandered through the carriages, glancing in the compartments on either side to find an empty seat. Finally, at the end of the train, she found a compartment with only one other occupant. She entered and sat down, gathering her traveling skirts about her before glancing at the man seated across from her. He smiled and nodded politely before turning to gaze once more out the damp window. On the seat beside him was a grey bowler hat.

Sky Diving From the Ground Up

When you go into a dark field in the middle of the night, and lie down and turn your face to the sky, you feel like you're sky diving from the ground up. Your soul leaps from your body and goes soaring into the stars, and all you can do is feel it glide from star to star as your eyes go searching for meteors. It's strange how lying alone staring up at the night sky can make you feel so tiny and yet so immense. You feel small and insignificant, for how can you compare to the millions of stars and galaxies spinning above you? And yet, if you look straight above you, you can see the whole sky in your vision and you feel you could lift your arms and encompass it all. You can't focus on anything, because you are constantly searching for something to hold on to and there is too much to see. Thoughts skip through your mind so quickly you can't grasp even one, so you give up trying and just allow them to wander quietly through your head and then up into the cosmos. The only thing, lying there alone watching lights streak across the sky, is that it gets lonely after a while. You wish you had someone special to hold your hand and keep you warm. Some things are fine alone, but they are better to share.

Reflections on Proposition 8

Disclaimer: I know this issue may be a sensitive one for some people, but I feel moved to express my opinion on the matter. I have no wish to offend or persuade; I only wish to share my thoughts and feelings. And since I believe you all have your own opinions based on personal experiences and since you are entitled to express those opinions, thoughtful comments will be accepted and appreciated.

As of August 4, 2010, the California Supreme Court ruled Proposition 8 unconstitutional, and will soon enter into further conversations about equal rights for gay couples. And I have to say I am pleased. I'm an advocate for all human rights, and I believe any two consenting adults should be given the opportunity to get married. It's interesting to remember the US Supreme Court didn't end miscegenation laws until 1967, and still some states denied legal unions between blacks and whites. This prejudice was bred out of hate and ignorance, and the same issues are arising with regard to gay marriage. I honestly don't understand how allowing same-sex marriages changes anything for anyone else. Some want to promote the sanctity of marriage by preserving it for only heterosexual couples. And yet Las Vegas, Nevada has the second most weddings in the world, where most marriages are probably based on intoxication and lust and consequently don't last very long. And that promotes the sanctity of marriage? How does that make any sense?

Many people suggest civil unions and domestic partnerships as solutions to the gay marriage question. But a little research shows that these two solutions offer only a fraction of the state rights that married couples receive, and none of the federal rights. And to me, it's about more than just rights. I believe in human equality. I believe everyone should be given the same rights regardless of their race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation (rights can be lost based on action, but that's a different issue). We are singling out a group of people and persecuting them because of who they love. And that's not right.

I have heard people talk about how marriage (heterosexual marriage) doesn't seem to be important anymore. People are getting married later in life, divorce rates are up, and overall marriage has fallen on many people's priority lists. And yet there is an entire population of people fighting for the right to have their desire to commit be recognized and are being denied. That just doesn't make sense to me. For a community that has suffered from innumerable negative stereotypes regarding fidelity and sex, the fact that that community is fighting for commitment and loyalty should be recognized and celebrated.

While California's Supreme Court ruling is a step in (I believe) the right direction, there is still a ways to go. It's probably going to be a long and arduous journey, but I believe it will end with equal rights prevailing. That we would, in the future, continue to deny any rights to anyone based on sexual orientation is disheartening and unfortunate.

That said, I also think "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" is ridiculous.

Changes

I took a peek at Liz's blog this afternoon and found that she has made some changes. Thinking I would try it out, I too made some changes. However, this is probably about as much as I'm going to do. I don't care enough to change any little details or add more links or anything like that. So this is it.

I should probably write more often. The trouble is, much of what I want to write about is deeply personal and probably not very interesting to others. I have been thinking about writing posts as I finish books. That's a good idea. Maybe I'll start doing that.

Doing nothing sure exhausts the brain.

One Day Without Shoes

One day I was exploring TOMS.com (an organization that gives one pair of shoes to a child in need for every pair someone purchases), looking at and admiring the shoes for sale, when I noticed a link to an event called One Day Without Shoes. Intrigued by the idea of going through a whole day without wearing shoes, I responded and pledged my support by promising to go shoeless today, April 8th. I often think about people without food or clean water, but I never think about people who have to go without shoes. Although the day is not over (I am still shoeless), I was thinking over my experience and what I learned from it.

First of all, I had no idea it was going to snow today. About two minutes after I left my house, pant legs rolled up and tender feet stinging, it began to rain. Then hail. Then snow. I came very close to giving up, turning around, and getting some shoes when I realized the point is to be uncomfortable. I managed to make it to the library and regain feeling in my toes (don't worry, I still have ten) before I headed out again to go to class. The rest of the day was spent in the Theatre building, so I didn't have to venture outside again until after class, during which the sky decided to clear up and the Sun had dried the pavement. Not many people asked about my bare feet, though I did get chastised by my Costume Fundamentals teacher for not wearing footwear in the shop. The dangers of fallen pins and needles appropriately worried her. Although I assured her it would not happen again, I thought to myself that again, the point is to have to worry about the danger. And I wasn't even walking through the hot desert or the treacherous jungle. I was walking on pavement. Every day I go throughout my life, heedless to the sharp stones, icy ground, and fallen needles because I'm wearing shoes. I don't have to think twice about it. But there are people all over the world who don't have shoes. There are children who can't go to school because they are not allowed to attend barefoot. There are people who suffer from disfiguring diseases that could have been completely prevented by wearing shoes. There are so many luxuries I enjoy simply because I have shoes.

I take far too much for granted. I worry about money, but I have everything I need. I have enough money for food, rent, clothing, and shoes. I have the academic standing and assistance to go to a great university. If I am desperately in need, I have a family to help. I have good books to read, a novel to write, and warm socks to keep my toes from falling off (which I'm not wearing now; I think that's cheating, but I do still have my toes). I have a wonderful family to love. I have incredible friends to help me through the hard times and laugh with me through the fun times. I have a cool watch. I have so much, and I realized it because I didn't wear shoes for one day.

I know in some places it's not possible to go a day without shoes (your toes really would fall off). I know your job might not allow it. I know there are limits. But it's the experience that counts. Because I went a day without shoes, I know what it's like to worry about how cold the ground is. I know what it's like to be scolded because I didn't have shoes. I walked more slowly because I had to test the ground for sharp rocks. My feet are still tender from the rough ground. But now I have a greater sense of compassion. I know food and water are not the only necessities. I know I have been blessed with great wealth and abundance. I know what it's like to have to step gingerly. I have so much, and there is so much I can give. I realized the potential I have for change. All because I walked for one day without shoes.