INFORMATION SUPER HIGHWAY? CALL 334-5279

A good habit to form is, when you wake up of a morning, ask yourself or anyone else who is around, "I wonder what special thing will happen for me today?" That way, you keep looking and listening for that special thing. If at day's end you can't review the day and point to anything special, you can at least say, "Well, I've had another day to weave my thread into the overall tapestry of time."

We hear a lot these days about the Information super highway. The term, too new, hasn't made itself into the Literacy Dictionary, although I'm sure that by the use of fiber optics, chips and airwaves, houses some day might be equipped with a button you can push, declare what it is you want to know, and the information will be instantly flashed back to you, into your ear or on a blank wall, even a piece of paper that will roll out of a machine somewhat like the fax. By that time, faxes might be "old hat."

Anyway, should such a button become available, one of my first questions might be, "What design is my thread of life making on the unrolling tapestry. Would the answer be, "Just a straight line?" "Up and down like a heart beat graph?" "A winding vine?" "A monkey?" "A polka dot signifying nothing?"

On second thought, I believe I'd leave such a push button alone until "all of life pictures are painted and the tubes are twisted and dried." To see a line of polka dots would be disheartening.

When my thoughts dwell long on this kind of super highway which I'm sure has many lanes, somehow I get to thinking of the Tower of Babel when man, shall we say, got "Too smart for his pants."

I don't believe you could push such a button and get an answer to such a question as "What special thing is going to happen to me today?" Anyway, I hope not. It would take away hope and surprise, keep you from mentally standing on tiptoe lest you miss it.

Today I was sitting in a patch of warm, blossoming clover, watching the honeybees in their earth heaven and enjoying the subtle fragrance while it lasted, for I knew the lawnmower would soon be coming, when all at once the loud, voice of an oriole was sounded and an orange and black streak went across the yard, high up. Orioles always fly high. Since they have been absent from the premises for two years, the sound was so special to me. "Well, hello there," I said, skyward. Oriole vanished into the high American elm and I have no doubt that somewhere up there a little gray, bag-like nest is being woven. I wish I could witness the process, but even turning my binoculars on high, I can't find any such happening. The orioles return was my special and surprising moment of the day.

You might ask along with the songstress, Peggy Lee, "Is that all?" It doesn't take much for me, for which I'm eternally thankful.

As for instant information, the C.G. Public Library reference department serves me well. I even dreamed recently that I asked someone there, "Why does my clematis vine always wind from east to west?" Back came the answer, "That's the way the earth turns." Could the answer have been right, even in dreams? Off-hand, I'd say, "Yes." Morning-glory vines wind that way too, and bean vines and probably the double helix. Of course you've got to get right down to the base to see if that is the way they start. How can I get down to the base of a double helix?

REJOICE!