Dallasized

I'm out of snakey-jake town now, and in Dallas, enjoying the very most that commodified life has to offer. It is always energizing to be around the youngbloods, and now the great menagerie of pets, but it only takes a few trips to the garganutuan mile-square malls to launch my existential meaning-of-life sequence.* It is not a good sequence for me, but I'm in it. I feel like the Old Testament prophets who knew perfectly well they would be run out of town or worse, but couldn't stop themselves from proclaiming about what they saw.

"Commodification" of almost every aspect of life is the natural result of Dallas being the business hub that it is. Papa and I have spent many hours driving around shopping here and there not just to find the perfect baby shower gift, but the perfect wrapping paper, the perfect ribbon, the perfect gift for the father-to-be, etc. etc. If, as my daughter says, "The love is in the details," then we have given exactly the amount of love we would have wanted to the recipients of our affection.

Our travels took us to the quintessential commodification, the marketing of God at the Christian book store, which is filled with things made in China by people who's introduction to Jesus Christ is that he's a guy who likes a lot of trinkets. (Not unlike the Asian deities, I guess). That's what started the sequence. I would have so preferred just to sit these many hours on a patio chatting, painting the baby's room, making clothes for the baby with other women (actually, I did make some baby items- the most satisfying of all the things we have done). But we are in Dallas, and are showing love the Dallas way. Could I have chosen not to Dallasize? Sure, but that would have made it all about me.

We have had a good visit with our kids and their animals, and will soon shower the first baby in the friendship circle with lots of Dallas love. Tomorrow I will be waiting for the sequence to subside as I head to the Pacific Northwest where a whole new set of experiences awaits.

*sequence=a neuronal response. Think Pavlov's dogs.