Mark's books

Marrying Mark meant marrying new books. Growing up in my parents' house, it seemed that there were new books to be discovered on the shelf. This is probably a result of evolving interests in different things as I got older. I used to see the red, old-fashioned type of children storybooks that were from my parents' era and I'd read the story about the old Chinese emperor or a story about some heroic dog. Some Sundays I would read the illustrated encyclopedias and other informational books. I found the books by C.S. Lewis later on and only glanced over books like A Pilgrim's Progress, uncertain of my interest at the time. There's also a favorite section of Calvin and Hobbes books on my parents' bookshelves. There are still books there that I'm sure I've never noticed, partly because I started my own collection of books. That collection is largely still in my old bedroom at my parents' house, being too big to take to our small apartment in Provo. But we have most of Mark's books here, most of them crammed on one tall shelf. I will peruse the titles sometimes or just admire the books as I walk by them. Mark's always impressed me by how well-read he is. The first time I met him, six years ago now?, he was reading some big book, probably Tolstoy or Dostoevsky. He sat with his leg crossed over his knee, his elbow on the bent knee, his chin in his hand, his square glasses framing his furrowed brow focused on the page. We were both at the same BYU Recycling Club meeting. I wasn't sure what to make of him at the time, but then you can't always trust first impressions. However, one impression of Mark has remained true - he loves to read and has quite good taste in books. The books he brought with him to our marriage are beautiful and thick. He prefers hardcover to softcover because they last longer and he is determined to have all these books available to our children. There is a long line of classics and then some rows of mathematical, statistical, political, economical books from recent years. He has books on philosophy, leadership, communication, religion. He is always reading about five books at a time - a couple different ones before bed, another one for the airplane (when he used to fly more often), and two others in there for good measure. He reads the Economist when he rides the bike at the gym or sometimes at breakfast. The shelf is a pretty good size, but not too huge. But I am surprised when I really look deeper at the titles and find something I never found before. You will never guess the great find I made last night on the top shelf on the right. Two books by Dave Barry! They were collections of his humor columns from the 80s and 90s. What a find, I thought. Mark walked by our bedroom last night and asks me what I was reading. When he discovered it was Dave Barry, he offered to read some together. So Mark started reading them out loud. We were on our bed, Mark reading these columns, and I was laughing so hard, I was in tears. A talent I didn't know my husband had! He is exceptionally good at reading Dave Barry columns out loud! He laughs at all the right times, adding just that much more humor to the moment, and does the best inflections. I had no idea Mark could do that. This was truly a treasure to find. This, my friends, is a favorite memory of our first months together. I think it was because we both had full school commitments the next day, and can feel the weight of law school, and laughing was very therapeutic for both of us. I think it also reminded me of reading Calvin and Hobbes with my dad and he would read them aloud and would laugh at all the right times, which would make us all bust up laughing. And here I was, twenty years later, having a laugh attack with my husband reading to me, while we casually lounged on our bed in our own little home together. It reminded me of the times my parents would crack up about something one of them said, and I would stand there smiling at my parents' mirth. I would marvel at the fact that I could still crack up at stuff when I was a grown-up, and instead of making my brother laugh, I could joke and laugh with my spouse. Last night I experienced this full circle. It was full circle, but something totally new. I guess I am amazed at a few things. I am amazed at how great Mark is and how much fun it is to be married to such a good and nice and funny and happy person. I am amazed at how much my life has been blessed by being with him. I am amazed at how things that you thought were left behind in your childhood can pop up in your adult life and it is awesome. I am amazed that you can have new experiences and learn new things about someone you thought you totally had "figured out." That kind of surprise is the sweet filling of life. And I am amazed that I am still finding new books on Mark's bookshelf.

what's more American than me?

mark and i subbed in primary for the 8 year old class yesterday, which means we got to attend SINGING TIME! i really liked singing time growing up, but i REALLY like it now (probably because adults just don't do fun things like that - and it's a shame too). so, we sang a song i hadn't sung since elementary school: "what's more American?" such a classic! mark and i loved singing it with the picture prompts and everything and kept singing it all day: "What's more American than toothpaste?... I AM! I AM! I AM!" (if you don't know this song, you should really get acquainted with it.) so mark asks me at dinner, "what is more American than Ernie?" (That was one of the pictures on the singing posters.) i laughed and thought "hmmm... what's REALLY American?..." and for some reason, all things 80s came to my head. so, i said "MTV." mark questioned, "Why?" (Hadn't he seen Girls Just Wanna Have Fun?) then he did the Mark-hand-gesture finger point and said with a smile "this is a serious game, Jan." so, we commenced on discovering what is truly American. we had to name something from the song and find something that is more American than that. what's more American than Superman? Mark responded, Rocky - he's a self-made man. so, you see, you have to compare apples to apples in this game and find something within the same category as the thing you named. we started to discover some things about our perspectives on America, however. mark's responses always tied to the American ideals of being self-made, being rebellious, facing the frontier, or being individualistic. my criteria for the game was to find things that were purely American-made. (mine was more difficult, i found, because of globalization. it was almost impossible to determine if something was exclusively American.)

so the question: are Mark's ideals still true to America? to me, conformity was the new American way. look at mass media - it's all about being the same. but, is this American? mark said that the indie film maker epitomizes American ideals - the independent, the new, the individual. interesting, i said. so, what made Americans "American" at the dawn of America was the independence from Great Britain. it was about breaking away from those foreign rulers an ocean away. these days, those that epitomize that same "American" spirit are breaking away from other Americans. popular media is the new Great Britain; the indie filmmakers - the carriers of the American ideals. or, are they?

new question: who says that America is what America is or was 200 year ago? is America as we see it now, and to be American to be what we are? and what are we exactly?

what's more American than me?

ok go

the common couple

hey guys, the common has acquired another author. mark eliason and i were married a couple of weeks ago and couldn't be happier. marriage = the greatest investment ever. we are determined to keep investing in good things - good friends, good education, good food, good music, good religion. please join us as we share our discoveries with you. thanks to all of you good friends out there who have been such great supporters of the common. i'm back! love, jana b. (now jana e., but you can still call me jana b.)

mark dedicates this song to all of you:

when i grow up

my teacher of my community-based legal research class asked us to bring something to class that depicted what we wanted to someday become. i brought some passages from Les Miserables. they weren't about Valjean or about Marius's courage. they are about simpler person, the person who delivered Valjean from the hands of the officers and led Valjean to believe he could be something more than a criminal. this person is the Bishop. he is simple, grounded, generous, charitable . . . in a word, Christlike. i suppose i could have brought a picture of Christ, which is really who i want to become like someday. however, Hugo's words are so lovely, i thought i'd share (taken from the first Book in Les Mis):


"The Bishop did not omit his pastoral visits because he had converted
his carriage into alms. The diocese of D---- is a fatiguing one.
There are very few plains and a great many mountains; hardly any roads,
as we have just seen; thirty-two curacies, forty-one vicarships,
and two hundred and eighty-five auxiliary chapels. To visit all
these is quite a task.

"The Bishop managed to do it. He went on foot when it was in
the neighborhood, in a tilted spring-cart when it was on the plain,
and on a donkey in the mountains. The two old women accompanied him.
When the trip was too hard for them, he went alone.

...

"In the course of these trips he was kind and indulgent, and talked
rather than preached. He never went far in search of his arguments
and his examples.

...

"A tragic event occurred at D---- A man was condemned to death
for murder. He was a wretched fellow, not exactly educated,
not exactly ignorant, who had been a mountebank at fairs, and a writer
for the public. The town took a great interest in the trial.
On the eve of the day fixed for the execution of the condemned man,
the chaplain of the prison fell ill. A priest was needed to attend
the criminal in his last moments. They sent for the cure.
It seems that he refused to come, saying, "That is no affair
of mine. I have nothing to do with that unpleasant task, and with
that mountebank: I, too, am ill; and besides, it is not my place."
This reply was reported to the Bishop, who said, "Monsieur le Cure
is right: it is not his place; it is mine."

"He went instantly to the prison, descended to the cell of the
"mountebank," called him by name, took him by the hand, and spoke to him.
He passed the entire day with him, forgetful of food and sleep,
praying to God for the soul of the condemned man, and praying the
condemned man for his own. He told him the best truths, which are
also the most simple. He was father, brother, friend; he was bishop
only to bless. He taught him everything, encouraged and consoled him.

...

"M. Myriel could be summoned at any hour to the bedside of the sick
and dying. He did not ignore the fact that therein lay his greatest
duty and his greatest labor. Widowed and orphaned families had
no need to summon him; he came of his own accord. He understood
how to sit down and hold his peace for long hours beside the man
who had lost the wife of his love, of the mother who had lost
her child. As he knew the moment for silence he knew also the moment
for speech."

as an attorney, or just as a human being, i hope to emulate these traits in my life, knowing what is truly important.

digital nation

i am watching a documentary about digital multi-tasking, and i am only catching part of it because i am multi-tasking on my computer! how ironic.

check it out:
http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/frontline/digitalnation/?utm_campaign=DigitalNation&utm_medium=ROS&utm_source=NPR

encounters

so, boys against girls. how long have we been playing that way? today during 5th grade mentoring, i took two 5th grade boys because their mentor was gone. they were totally cool kids and we went to play foosball. they were playing each other, and then some girls came in and asked if they could play. the girls were good, but the guys still beat them, best out of three. more girls came to play, and their mentors stood by to watch as well. the mentors starting calling "go girls! come on girls!" and then, inevitably, it became that timeless battle of the sexes: boys v. girls. i wanted my mentees to win and i found myself feeling loyalty for my mentees, but inside i felt myself rooting for the girls. "come on, jan," i told myself, "it doesn't matter." but we all know that it does! ever since i was in their shoes - 5th grader who thinks she knows everything - it always came down to beating the boys! how interesting. btw, the boys let me play with them, so we did three on three, and we lost by one... and i blame myself, since i must have secretly been wanting the girls to beat us. why else would we have lost the match? i should have recused myself from the match due to a conflict of interest.

second encounter today - this girl that i know from 'somewhere' totally knew my name and engaged in a conversation with me and i greeted her, spoke with her, left, and still to this moment i couldn't tell you what her name was or how i know her. what is wrong with me?! that is so frustrating.