Despite all the ongoing steroid talk, which I think we’re all extremely tired of, I still like baseball. No, I don’t pay attention to it all that much (it’s May), but I do find something inherently relaxing and enjoyable about catching the occasional inning. Additionally, Baseball Tonight is one of ESPN’s best shows (far better than SportsCenter) because it is highlights first, analysis second, talking heads third. Like all good things, however, baseball needs tweaking. Putting aside the steroid issue for now, there are several small changes Major League Baseball (MLB) can make to improve the game.

1. Have seven-game series throughout the playoffs. Baseball is the only major sport with playoff series that has a five-game first round. If one looks at ratios of games played in the regular season to playoff games in round one of the playoffs in various sports, the problem is obvious: NBA 82:7; NHL 82:7; MLB 162:5!* How does that make sense? Basically, what MLB is telling teams is, “It doesn’t matter how well you play for six or seven months—lose three of five and you’re done!” Absurd. The first round of the MLB playoffs needs to be seven games. I suppose I’d be willing to put up with a five-game first round, however, if the MLB would…

2. Add more wild card spots. Right now, there are 30 teams in Major League Baseball and eight playoff spots (six for division winners and two wild cards). Again, comparison is illuminating. In the NBA, there are 30 teams, and 16 make the playoffs each year; the NHL is the same way. That means in both of these leagues more than half of the teams make the playoffs every year, which unceasingly puts mediocre teams in the playoffs. The NFL has a better approach. In professional (American) football, there are 32 teams, 12 of whom make the playoffs every year. This system is ideal: there are many teams that make the post season, so interest is widespread; however, most teams do not make the playoffs, so gaining entrance to the post season has the appropriate level of difficulty.

Baseball should adopt the NFL’s playoff structure. Let there be the usual three playoff spots awarded the division winners in each league, and add two wild card slots to bring the total up to six playoff teams in each league (12 total). In this system, the top two teams with the best records would have a first round bye, and the bottom four would play a five-game first round. The first round byes reward the teams who have spent the past SIX MONTHS winning, while the wild card teams still have a good shot to knock them out. This system would also permit four more cities to have playoff teams each year; more teams in more places means more widespread interest. Everybody gets more money (tickets, TV rights, vendors, etc.), and fans have a better shot to see their team play in October.

3. Institute a salary cap. I remember the salary cap being discussed at length during the strike that devastated baseball in the 1990s. At the time I was opposed to the cap in the name of capitalism—let the market decide what the players are worth. I’ve come 180 degrees since then, though, because I’m tired of seeing the same teams in the playoffs every year. In March everyone knows that the big market teams (Red Sawx, Yankees, Cubs, Mets, et al.) have the best chance of making the playoffs because they can pay more for the same talent. Good players want more money, which is natural, so they go where they can get it. This leaves teams like the Royals, Reds, Rangers, and Orioles with slim chance of making the playoffs for years consecutively, and revenue goes down in those places because people pay to see their team win. It’s a downward spiral.

The salary cap equals everything out. The Yankees have the same amount of money to spend as the Mariners. The Cubs have a payroll equal to the Pirates. Talented players are more likely to stay in the city where they become stars because their teams can now afford them. Being a Cubs fan, I realize this might hurt my boys, but I think it’s worth it in the name of parity. I do not think the MLB will institute a salary cap any time soon due to the heinous, bloated Player’s Union. The owners are not any better, of course.

4. Move an NL Central team to the AL West. If none of the above ideas get implemented, I hope this one will because the problem is so egregious and idiotic. Right now, the National League Central Division has six teams in it—one more than most other divisions and two more than the American League West, which has only four teams! This makes the AL West the easiest division to win, and the NL Central the most difficult due to number of competitors in each division. I’ve never understood this move. We all know that the organization of league divisions is arbitrary in every sport, and it is often puzzling geographically. But other sports have at least made an effort to keep the number of teams in each division equal. Why do we punish the Astros, Brewers, Cardinals, Cubs, Pirates, and Reds and reward the Angels, Atheletics, Mariners, and Rangers? It makes no sense. MLB should assign an NL team to the AL West to even things out. If they want to keep things simple, they could reassign an NL Central team (I think moving the Astros makes the most sense in that scenario), or pick an NL team from another division and move a Central team to that division.

I sincerely doubt that Major League Baseball will adopt any of the above measures, and if they do not it will be to the detriment of the league. Baseball is always reluctant to change things, which can be a virtue at times. However, given the decline of its popularity and the never-ending steroid scandals, I think MLB would be wise to change things a little.

*The NFL is left out of this comparision because the violent nature of the sport permits only one-game playoff rounds.

Due to a little kid soliciting magazines at our house and my wife’s kindness, we now receive Elle magazine and Christianity Today. The latter is quite good; the former is not. Both of these periodicals end up in our bathroom’s reading material basket. As we all know, there are times when one will read anything in the bathroom, so I end up perusing Elle from time to time. Wedged somewhere among all the ads (it should be called Ads magazine) is a monthly advice column entitled “Ask E. Jean,” which is better than most of the magazine’s content; I usually end up perusing it. Ms. Jean gets a lot of questions of varying types, but her advice is often horrendous. Thus, in an effort to help those E. Jean damages with her bad advice, I’ve decided to correct her most heinous blunders.

The most recent edition of Elle features the following question and inexcusable answer from Ms. Jean:

Q:I’m in LOVE! He’s a member of a huge, superfamous ’60s singing group. He’s in his sixties, and I’m in my very early twenties. My family disapproves because his kids are twice my age. Should I follow my heart?

A:Yes! Enjoy him! And if he happens to be a Temptation, a Kink, or a Monkee, when he withers with age to the size of a pet rhesus, send him to Auntie Eeee. Aristocratic Spanish ladies once carried monkeys (not Monkees) on their shoulders to make themselves look more bewitching by comparison.

Wha?!? I would say she cannot be serious, but apparently she is. Let me help you out, letter writer.

You’d have to be an absolute fool to date this man, whoever he is. The reasonable and intelligent objections mount to the skies! Let’s start with the fact that the man with whom you’re “in love” is a rock star. In other words, he’s been around the block. In other words, he’s probably slept with as many people as you’ve met in your young life. Feel like getting an STD in your early twenties? This guy has been in contact with more disgusting things and people than your enamored imagination can conjure up.

Second, his kids are twice your age. Where do you see this going? I can tell you where I see it going: nowhere. Do you thing the age difference won’t be a problem in family relationships? How many girls your age has this guy used and dumped on the curb in his career? Dozens? Hundreds? Do you think he’ll change for you, chiquita? He doesn’t love you; he wants to use you because you’re young, probably attractive, and gullible.

Third, you don’t love him. No, you don’t. You’re infatuated with his image. He’s a rock star, a sex symbol,and he looks so great with that guitar in hand crooning out the ”heart-felt” lyrics that have made him filthy rich (and just filthy). You probably don’t even know this man. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and say you see him maybe four times a week right now and maybe you accompany him on tour. Do you think you know him—I’m talking about him as human, not the rock star persona? Either you do and you’re ignoring his faults because love is blind, or you don’t and you’re naive. Either way, get out.

Fourth, your family knows you better than this E. Jean character. You’re writing to her because you want someone to tell you what you want to hear; she did (because she gives bad advice). You say your family objects due to the age difference (I bet there are other objections, too); why are you going to trust a strange woman (who, again, gives bad advice) rather than your family? Maybe your family isn’t so great, but they do know you. Listen to your family; they’re an important part of your life. E. Jean is not. 

Forget him. Believe me, he won’t struggle to forget you.

As for you, E. Jean, for shame. I understand that you do not want to be trite and dispense common sense, but sometimes that’s what you have to do if you want to help those who write you at crisis points in their lives. If this girl ends up going out with this rock star, her life is going to be much, much worse than it would have been. If she follows your idiotic advice and gets hurt by this man, which we both know she inevitably will, I hope she finds you and smacks you in the face. Or maybe she’ll send you this guy, and you can be hurt by him and get an STD to boot. It would only be just.

Honestly, Elle could have found a better advice columnist by going to the Midwest and hiring almost any mother there.

We all knew it was bound to happen. With music and video going digital and becoming much  more computer friendly, books could not be far behind. Amazon introduced the world to the Kindle, and the new iPhone has a book downloading application. I have even heard of a campus that is considering moving all textbooks to electronic versions. All of these advances in technology are making reading much more convenient to consumers and, in many cases, cheaper. Who could possibly object to such a development? Me. Perhaps I’m in the minority, but I believe the proliferation of e-books is more curse than blessing.

Let me first admit the advantages that e-books have over traditional books, and there are many. E-books are the paragon of portable. Sure, novels, newspapers, and short works are easily carried in one’s bag, but textbooks and longer novels are supremely heavy and unpleasant to lug about. Also, owning a device like a Kindle makes one device capable of being any book. Don’t like your current reading material? Download another! I know my esteemed colleagues Jason and Kyle have been rallying for more electronic books, and publishers seem to be responding (albeit slowly).

Going along with portability, e-books are easy to hold while reading; this is not to be easily dismissed. Heavy books aren’t fun to wrestle with while reading. They’re too heavy for one hand, and the reader needs to constantly shift positions to be comfortable. E-books also have the potential to be much cheaper. With no ink, paper, cover, shipping or storing necessary, and electronic copy is far more affordable for both reader and publisher. I understand the appeal of electronic reading material, and I also am sure this trend will not abate any time soon. Like the music and the iPod, the marriage of convenience and availability will eventually be too much for the average reader.

However, even with all the above advantages, I much prefer regular, paper-and-ink books. One reason for that preference is technology overload. I spend a lot of my day dealing with electronics. I work on computers at both my jobs. At home, I spend too much time on my laptop (like, um, right now) and watching TV. My cell phone is with me everywhere. I don’t need more technology! It’s a delight and relief to hold something that doesn’t beep, ring, turn off or on, run out of batteries, break, get stolen due to its high cost, or have a screen. People can’t contact me via book. Books have no extra functions to distract me. They do only one thing: they have words on pages that wait to be read. They are quiet, patient and far more challenging when I actually engage them than any electronic thing I’ve ever encountered. I want to escape sometimes. I open a real book, and the technological world waits.

Secondly, books are wonderful things per se. I love the cover art of a book that entices me to open it. I love the title pages and the dedications. I like turning palpable pages using my fingers. The feel of a book is important to me: I seek smooth pages and covers that feel good in my hands. I even enjoy the weight of a book. Breakfast at Tiffany’s should not be as heavy as Moby-Dick; it feels false. I even enjoy the smell of a book, especially brand new ones and really old ones. A book is much much more than the words it contains—it has tremendous worth as an object, which the e-book fad completely discards. How many e-books are you going to put on your shelves at home? How many can you sell later if you wish? How many can you take an actual pen with actual ink and write on in your own handwriting?

I would also argue that the convenience of e-books, which is one of its greatest assets, is also a significant drawback. If you’re reading an e-book while on the subway and you tire of it, you fire up your browser and downloadanother or do something else. This enforces our repugnant cultural assumption that we can have anything we want now. One of the more valuable lessons of reading is persistence. Many of the best works don’t appeal to one immediately; one has to keep at it in order to profit from the experience. If I’m stuck with a book I don’t necessarily love, I’ll read it anyway, and usually I benefit from the experience.

By this point I probably sound like a curmudgeon. Perhaps I am. However, I do not advocate the abolition of e-books, just the prudent use of them. I think there are a great many areas of life where e-books would be quite useful and make more sense than regular books (expensive textbooks are a good example). However, I urge caution. We will lose more than most people realize if literature, like music, is swallowed up by the digital age. I hope you, like me, will continue buying actual books. If not, I’ll be glad to take them off your hands (if they’re good).

Did I mention that I like actual bookmarks, too?

Oh crap, here we go. We at Ahab’s Quest generally shy away from discussion of politics for several reasons: there is a myriad of other web sites on which you can find better (and worse) political coverage; we want everyone to feel at home reading our blog regardless of party affiliation; and we are not sure we have the expertise to give you good political fodder. But now, days away from “the most important election EVER”*, we’re weighing in on the one issue that we simply cannot ignore any longer: our frustration and disappointment regarding how the Church is mistreating its own because of politics.

My ire derives from both sides of the political aisle. Let’s start with the left. This election has been fascinating because the Democratic candidate for president has much more sway with Christians than in years past. Barack Obama is an intelligent and magnetic man, and his bid comes at a time when many of the traditionally important Christian issues (e.g. abortion) are on the back burner. I do not object to the choice of candidate but rather the superior attitude I’ve observed in many left-leaning believers. In my observation, people who vote Democrat are prone to assume that everyone votes Democrat (though I’ve met a few Republicans with the same problem). It’s intolerable hubris. Let the world act the way it will; it’s saddening that so many Christians adopt this arrogance. I’ve experienced anti-Republican bias even in my own church. When we talked about “the right candidate,” everyone knew who he was. The damage from this type of prejudice comes about tacitly. The “wink-wink, isn’t the Right stupid?” attitude that exudes from these people is noisome.

Right-leaning Christians are guilty of other faults. Too many believers are unwilling or unable to understand the viewpoints of others. There are two candidates in this election for whom a Christian can vote without remorse. All of the Christians I’ve talked with who are prObama (and I know many) have excellent, thought-out reasons for their choice. Jesus is not running for President, so every person must decide for squiself which candidate aligns most closely with God’s agenda. Worse than this, though, I’ve talked to a few believers who have suggested that Sen. Obama is the antichrist. One person told me Obama might be the antichrist because “somebody has to be.” Of course, that same ridiculous rationale can be used on anyone. What do we gain by making use of this sort of rhetoric? It shows a disturbing willingness to assign one of the most nefariuos labels in existence to a stranger only because of that person’s politics. It’s absurd, stupid, and abominable.

The larger issue, of course, is that Christians trade in their eternal commonalities for temporal differences far too easily. This is one election; four years from now, we’ll vote for a president again. How can we possibly be a united body of Christ when differences of opinion cause such back-biting and vitriol? We must remember our priorities: “I … entreat you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing forbearance to one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Eph 4:1-3). Christians have diversity within the body, and it’s meant to be that way. Sometimes, these differences will result in contrasting opinions. Vote for McCain or Obama as your conscience and mind dictate. Let us respect and love each other enough to appreciate the individuality of each person while remembering that we’re one in Christ. The unbelieving world does not need another reason to detest the Church.

*We will hear this about every election henceforth.

Every so often there comes a phrase that needs immediate expurgation from the English language. Saying “OMG” for example, when of course the abbreviation arose out of laziness in typing, warrants an immediate punch in the kidneys. Another such phrase is “get [whoever] a Starbucks,” e.g. “I hope Susan will get me a Starbucks.”

I have my beef with Starbucks. Their milk is burnt. They don’t put enough espresso in their drinks, so they taste like flavored milk. Their size names are nonsensical (how could a “tall” be a “small,” and why is there something bigger than “grande?”). They call any cold drink a “frappucino,” regardless of whether it contains coffee or merely fruit juice. They’re everywhere. The shortcomings of the coffee chain, however, are not at the root of my annoyance with this idiotic phrase; it’s the carelessness. Naturally, the person who says “I hope Susan will get me a Starbucks” is not expecting a Starbucks, i.e. a franchised building that sells coffee; squi is hoping for a DRINK.

The small part of me that thinks well of humanity wants to argue that perhaps this lazy phrase derived from the various drinks Starbucks sells. After all, one could want something from Starbucks that isn’t a coffee (like a frappucino!). The majority of me thinks its simply stupidity. I go to Starbucks to get drinks, ergo the drinks and the place are the same thing. The bad logic hurts. Ouch.

Let’s just band together to eschew this “get me a Starbucks” atrocity, shall we? As my astute wife pointed out, we’ve already adopted too many brand names in place of the actual noun we want (“Band-Aid,” “Kleenex,” and “Chapstick” in lieu of “bandage,” “tissue,” and “lip balm”). We don’t need to continue the trend. Besides, you don’t want a Starbucks! There are employee issues and overhead and early hours and late hours and loud, expensive machines and protesters and monotonous color schemes and stupid size names and competition from your own company one block away (not to mention other companies) and rent to pay and benefits to iron out and politics and lots and lots of drinks to make every day; you want something to drink. Why not say so?

Our culture is overly critical by default, so perhaps it seems odd that I’m even considering the idea of returning booing to the public performance arena. Truthfully, it feels a little mean to suggest it. We are never grateful for the many blessings we have. Why should we be more critical at theaters, sporting events, speeches, and concerts? My answer is two-fold: too many poor-quality performances are applauded and booing has an important function.

Before we get to the argument, let me begin with qualifiers. This is usually a bad way to begin, but I think we need to be careful in matters like these. Booing is a power negative statement, and it should be used sparingly. No one should ever boo at youth events, no matter how poor. Crappy high school plays, bad band concerts, poorly performing little league teams are not boo-worthy. The folks involved are young and trying their best (probably), and whatever they’re performing or doing is not their profession. I suppose you could boo referees in high school events, but be careful there, too. These refs are engineers or construction workers most of the time.

Onto the poor performances. I’ve been to professional events that were quite bad, yet the audience applauded one everything concluded. This sort of applause is counterproductive. Booing, when used well, can be a useful tool in letting the organizers of a given event know that the product put forth is recognizably bad. Hopefully, these folks will take steps to ensure future events will be better. And, though I hate talking about money, at professional events we the audience pay to see the performance. If I buy a car that doesn’t work, then I’m justifiably upset; the same should be true of paying to see a good show and watching a bad one instead. Additionally, if we’re discussing opera, ballet, theater, concerts, or sports, the event can be very expensive. If I spend $50+ on my ticket, I expect a lot and should receive it.

Secondly, booing will restore applause to its appropriate fuction, namely that of a reward for a good performance. An accurate gauge of audience opinion is the goal. We reward excellent performances with standing ovations, we clap for average ones–why shouldn’t the worst sort receive boos? In this way, the performers could measure the audience’s collective opinion. A “thanks for trying” ovation is a misrepresentation. If the given event sucks, why not say so?

Now we come to my reservations about this idea. First, there is the matter of taste. Lots of people have bad taste, though I suppose they could say the same of me. Thus, I do not trust the public’s opinion for most matters. These leads me to my second hesistation: given permission to boo, it is quite possible that we would abuse the privilege. I do not advocate frequent booing; save it for obviously and unusually bad performances! Refraining from clapping is another option.* Lastly, booing should never NEVER become violent under any circumstances at any event. If you’re displeased, let the performers know and go home safely.

If this post seems divided to you, dear reader, it’s because I’m divided on this one. I like the idea of being able to show your opinion of a public event regardless of what it may be, and I’m certain that applause has become an empty gesture sometimes (though not always). But if feeling like one can boo leads to further disruptions and hooliganism, I would much prefer the current system. Additionally, I distrust public opinion–call me an elitist if you must. In any case, booing, if used, should be used in small amounts and only for extremely bad performances. How’s that for a vague conclusion?

*On a related note, please save your standing ovations for amazing performances. I have and will refuse to stand if I think it’s not called for. Let applause be the expected outcome and use the other two judiciously.

As a student of literature, I often come into contact with that breed of books that has become “important enough” to warrant an introduction. I remember in undergrad and high school, I would often be assigned to “read the work and the introduction.” And, the definition of “introduction” being what it is, I would inevitably read the intro before perusing the text. Quite often this proved to be an annoying mistake.

Introductions (and all editing paraphernalia) are usually written by scholars trying to get a leg-up on the competition, so the person who writes the intro has another feather in squi’s cap, notch on squi’s belt, or whatever cliché you like most. The editor often uses this opportunity to tell you how to read a book; strangely, this is almost always how the editor reads it. Good intros give you a little survey of how others have read said book also. Now as a reader, you find yourself with seven takes on a book you haven’t read a word of yet. It’s a feminist tract. It’s an experiment in fiction. It’s a radically different form. It sucks. It’s world-renowned. It’s exemplary of this-or-that idea/time/movement. It’s so-and-so’s finest work. “Only after you wade through this marsh of others’ opinions,” the editor seems to say, “may you read this work for yourself, you uneducated nincompoop!”

Then there are the plot giveaways. I really wanted to know that Mrs. X dies and Mr. Q is actually a spy. I would never have seen given plot twist coming, but I now shall. I didn’t know event Y was even in this work. But now I know all that before I reach page one. There are usually excerpts from the text in your typical intro, which means you’re reading random tidbits of the work before you start it. Not helpful.

The most heinous of all aspects of the introduction is, of course, the length. They are usually looooooong. Listen, I can see that this book is 400+ pages; I don’t need another 20 tacked on for kicks. If the introduction precedes a chunk of poetry (as is so common in anthologies), I have to read about said writer’s entire life before I read a single poem that usually fits on one page. When you’re a lazy undergrad like I was, or a lazy grad like I am now, reading this lengthy intro is time ill-spent.

It was for these reasons that I ceased reading introductions for their intended purpose. I frequently don’t read them at all (not to mention the footnotes/end-notes!). Instead, I start with the title page and move to the first page, put my two eyes on the beginning word, and read the text for myself. I encounter everything first through my eyes. Plots aren’t given away. I often don’t know what sort of book I’m reading. I meet the characters as the author introduces me to them. I do not compare the introduction’s version of the style with my interpretation. The poem’s themes and images are fresh. It’s me and the words on the page.

Once I’ve read the poems, story, or novel, I turn back to the front and read the intro if I want to. There is a lot of good stuff in introductions when you read them because you want to and can compare your impressions with the editor’s. Frequently, I disagree with scholars on aspects of a work. Because I’ve read the text, I can say, “No, that’s not really true,” or “I found it more like such-and-such author,” or “That is definitely a valuable thought.”

Reading introductions last is the right way to read any work of literature because, if you think about it, most books didn’t come with introductions at their inception. The original readers opened the cover, flipped a couple pages, and began with the beginning. The scholars who write introductions (I hope to join their ranks some day) can only write all that stuff that precedes the book because they’ve already read the book! You should do the same: start with the text, finish it (if you want), and then read the introduction (if you want).

That player who is enormously enlarged due to Human Growth Hormone and used to play for the Giants recently said he’d boycott the Hall of Fame if the baseball he hit for #”756″ is displayed. The ball will be branded with an asterisk by Mr. Marc Ecko in a brilliant move. The quote from the steroid-using outfielder: “I won’t go. I won’t be a part of it. You can call me, but I won’t be there.”

Fantastic! Actually, let’s just beat him to the punch and not invite him to begin with! Then we can display the ball with the appropriate asterisk and not have to induct the biggest, most obvious cheater in a generation of cheaters in the Hall of Shame…err, I mean Fame. Thanks for making this so easy, you slow-moving, HGH-taking, former great player!

Oh, and I won’t call you.

Today is (was) Columbus Day, and that usually means two things: 1. Banks are closed (but I had to work!), and 2. People with nothing better to do across the nation are lambasting Cristóbal Colón.  I won’t say Columbus was perfect; he wasn’t, but neither are we. Of course we didn’t kill a whole bunch of natives in an effort to claim the Caribbean for Spain (at least, I haven’t), so he is culpable to an extant. However, it is absurd to lay the entire history of Western atrocities at his feet.

A couple semesters ago, I read Columbus’ The Four Voyages, which is really a mishmosh of texts from various authors compiled to present some kind of narrative of how this Italian landed south of the U.S. and changed history. At the end of it all, I ended up feeling pretty bad for the guy. “Whaaaat!?!” you say? Well, permit me to give you some interesting tidbits from the famous explorer’s life.

1. It took CC seven years to get his journey to the end of the world funded. He went to Spain only because Italy, Portugal, and England wouldn’t pony up the dough.

2. The first Spanish colony Columbus founded (Hispaniola) was decimated—everyone died.

3. On the third voyage, Columbus was arrested and sent back to Spain in chains.

4. He never found all the gold he thought he would (and kept telling Ferdinand and Isabella existed there).

5. He was convinced (or pretended) Cuba was Japan; after all, the purpose of his trip was to find a shortcut to India. Brrrrrrmp.

6. We live in the United States of America because Amerigo Vespucci was friends with a European cartographer; we should be living in the United States of Columbia. Vespucci got the glory.

7. He endured constant in-fighting among his fellow sailors and “settlers” (esp. Bobadilla), all of whom could do as they pleased with Spain so far away.

8. He almost died at sea during the fourth voyage, and his prayers during this moment are quite poignant.

9. He was stripped of the titles promised him, and though his sons got some of them back via the courts, they were diminished.

10. And there are the endless nights at sea, violent storms, malnutrition, constant fear of death, confusion, and doubt.

Okay, you’re not convinced. No one’s saying the guy didn’t have his faults. He was ambitious; he wanted power, money and fame. He was willing to kill humans who got too much in his way. Granted. But he was just one guy. If he hadn’t “discovered” “America,” someone else would have. He didn’t have anything to do with the Trail of Tears or Manifest Destiny. He didn’t cause the centuries of persecution for which we now blame him. Columbus didn’t invent the slave trade. The atrocities for which we blame him were carried out by thousands of others over hundreds of years (he died five hundred years ago!)  some of whom we celebrate. He may be no hero, but he certainly isn’t the demon we make him out to be.

All this Columbus hating comes down to one thing: lots of people want a scapegoat for the evils that this continent has known, and because CC got here “first,” we picked him. That’s pretty stupid. By the way, there was plenty of war and evil before he got here; America was no Eden, though we like to pretend it was.

Maybe the parades for Columbus are silly, but if so, the protests are equally pointless. Like all history, we cannot change what has come before, but we can alter the present. Let Columbus’ legacy be the mixed bag that it is—don’t distort past events for your own political agenda. Besides, if Columbus hadn’t landed on this continent, none of us would be here to feel guilty about it.

I imagine the whole “small world” phenomenon began with that horrid Disney singing doll exhibit in Florida. I’ve never seen it myself, but the song is annoying. However, I most encounter the phrase in situations where acquaintances meet in unanticipated places. At my place of work, people frequently use the “small world” phrase when they unexpectedly see someone they know; of course, they all live in the Denver area, so I don’t know why they’re that surprised. I know I’ve felt like it’s a small world, especially when I ran into Dan and his family in Colorado years ago when we both happened to be on vacation in the same restaurant on the same night. Weird.

The small world feeling continues to grow with the proliferation of technology. Because we can email, call, and travel the world over in a short period of time (especially compared to a century ago), we feel like this huge ball on which we live isn’t so enormous after all.

But it is.

Maybe I only feel so strongly on this odd topic because I haven’t traveled much, and I’m eager to see how other people live; however, I think mentally downsizing the globe contributes to human arrogance. We feel like we’re bigger than we are. We’ve conquered it; we can do it. It’s not so intimidating.

I am no opponent to technological advances—on the contrary, I think we ought to push ourselves to see what we can invent, produce, and use to make our existence better. This does not imply losing our sense of awe, however. This world is so big, not only geographically but also culturally.

When I moved to Colorado, I had this silly expectation that everything I wanted to see in the West would be within reasonable driving distance. Ha! From Denver to the Grand Canyon: 11.5 hours. To Seattle? 19 hours. San Francisco? 18 hours. The American West is enormous.

That’s just within the US. Think of how far away Europe is from New York. Think of the Sahara, the Amazon, the Steppes in Russia, Australia’s interior, and all the waves on the Pacific Ocean. The mind cannot take it in! If you still think these places aren’t too impressive, imagine having to traverse them. Heck, I’ll give even give you a vehicle with unlimited gas mileage. How long will it take you?

That’s just the geography; what about cultures? Within our own country, there are myriads of subcultures, accents, interests, and values. If we travel north or south one country, it’s an entirely different place. When I was learning Spanish, I had this wrong-headed notion that anything south of the Rio Grande was pretty much the same: not so at all. Every Spanish-speaking country has its own heritage, characteristics, holidays, interests, wondrous places, religious beliefs, etc. Now mentally move yourself to Asia. Europe. Africa. Every continent is full of nations made up of open land and cities, which are occupied by millions of people, and each individual has their own past, baggage, values, and hopes.

I am awed at the thought of it all. Perhaps that’s why I love to travel and want to do so more: I need to realize my relative insignificance in this vast universe, and I want to see how other people live. After all, every life is valuable in the eyes of the Almighty. We all are made in His Image.

I don’t get angry when people bump into each other and say, “Hey! Small world!”, but you’ll pardon me if I disagree.