Greetings from Poosey.
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We’d pulled in for fuel and saw the sign, “New, faster pumps.” No mention of the price of gasoline or quality of the petrol, just the fact that you’d now spend only 45 instead of 55 seconds filling the tank. Ten seconds. Whoop-tee-doo. You’d think the gas station had put a man in space.
God help us if we can’t speed something up. Nothing tickles me more than being able to slam down the receiver on a telemarketer when it’s obvious she’s doing her nails or checking her next phone number. We need health, we need joy, we need security, but do we really need more speed?
The average French worker puts in 35 hours a week and he’s more productive than his American or British counterpart putting in over 40. The Germans established a 28.8 hour work week and the country’s productivity went up 20%. I don’t know the German translation, but some office have signs posted saying, “Multi-tasking is a moral weakness.”
The Swedish car maker Volvo has a rule that every idea must take two years to be finalized. Why? “Because it’s a rule,” they say. And guess which company has a stellar safety record? An investigative reporter once spent a week traveling to work with a Volvo employee. She noticed that the man would arrive at work early then park in the far side of the 2000-car parking lot. When asked about this unusual behavior, the smiling Swede said, “I get to work with enough time to walk. I should save the closer spaces for those who arrive later and are more rushed.” Ever hear those words in an American parking lot?
My cousin once urged me to attend a movie with her. In her words, “Freida, we need to get away from the rat race.” Although it was a dandy picture, she sat there checking her watch the entire time, anxious to rejoin her fellow rats.
Face it, some things are best done slowly…
No matter how much I dread a doctor’s appointment, once I’m there I want the sawbones to take his time. If you’re going to put me up on the grease rack, then take a good look at everything while you’re there. I don’t want a doctor who multi-tasks while he’s examining my transmission.
Breathing should be done slowly (and frequently.)
And if you’re coming toward me at night, I’d put “driving” high on the list of things that should be done with an eye toward accuracy instead of speed. When Map Quest or Google plots out my route I purposely subvert the system and start moving the itinerary around with my mouse. If it takes me 10 minutes longer to avoid the mind-numbingly tedious stretches of Midwest landscape in favor of the little two-lane highways where you actually see something, so be it.
Romance should not be rushed. Our schools are increasingly surrogate homes for children whose parents let passion overcome their sense of responsibility. Don’t hurry love, baby.
One of the more refreshing winds of opposition to the high-tech hurricane is the “Slow Food Movement.” This is not an allusion to the speed with which roasted carrots move through your digestive track, but the simple act of eating slowly, of enjoying food for its taste, of spending time with those around the table.
Spending time with loved ones shouldn’t be a high-speed activity. I’m amused by the phrase “quality time.” The parent who says, “We don’t have much time together but we always try to make it quality time.” Hey Pop, if you were really concerned with quality, then you’d make more time.
Oh, I can hear the grumbling already… “You just don’t understand what I’ve got to get done today,” and “If you had a schedule like mine you’d know why I have to live this way,” and “I’ve got to make the best use of my time.” This usually comes from the fellow who passes me on the hill then arrives at the ballgame just in front of me. In the words of Gandhi, “Maybe you can shake the world by doing a little slow rumbling.”
God didn’t do it all in a day, but some of us insist that we must. As Will Rogers said in his biography, “Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save.”
You ever in Poosey, stop by. We may not answer the door but you’ll enjoy the trip.