Looking for anything uplifting

In a world that seems to deliver more lows than highs on some days, I've been looking for uplifting things to do and think about. This isn't as easy as it sounds, but the rewards are well worth the effort.

My wife and I went to see the new Mel Gibson movie last week -- not because we knew anything about "Signs," but because Mel Gibson's movies are usually good enough to be distracting. This means that for a couple of hours, at least, the biggest of life's problems is getting to the bottom of the popcorn bag before the movie ends.

Our decision to take a chance on the move was serendipity. It is an uplifting movie. It has a satisfying ending. And Mr. Gibson, for once, fights battles of the mind rather than fists. We left the theater thinking better of the human race -- and of two child actors in particular.

I've noticed that I've become choosier in my reading material as I seek the brightness of happiness and good cheer rather than the gloom of chaos and despair. This is no easy chore. Far too many writers apparently believe the shock of cruelty and deviant behavior are what magazine and book editors are looking for. Alas, they are so right so much of the time.

As a result, I find myself flipping past a lot of words that could possibly inform me. But right now I don't want knowledge. I want inspiration.

We watched a TV rerun of "Little Voice" the other night. It's a British movie about a repressed young woman who, on her own, has learned to mimic the greatest female singing stars of the past couple of generations. In the end, she finds a voice of her own, and it's not on the stage.

When the titles rolled up the screen at the end of the movie, I learned that the actress in the starring role, Jane Horrocks, had performed -- not lip-synched -- all of the songs in the movie. I was moved to rewind to the pivotal scenes where a beautifully gowned LV performs a medley of all-time hits in a sleazy nightclub full of cheering drunks. But her eyes are only on her dead father, whom she imagines is in the audience.

The notion that an actress best-known for a supporting role in one of the lamest -- and funniest -- British sitcoms, "Absolutely Fabulous," could belt out songs with such powerful stage presence reminded me how judgmental we ought not to be.

But I've saved the best for last.

If you get the BBC America channel by cable or satellite, I'm sure you've run across "Ground Force," a half-hour of landscaping frenzy by an irrepressible group of diggers and builders who go around Britain to turn motley patches of garden into showpieces of outdoor design and architecture. The show's pace is driven by the fact that the garden makeover is a surprise, and there are only two days to do the work.

Interestingly, the Ground Force crew has had some projects that weren't private homes: a church yard, a firehouse patio -- even the grounds surrounding the home of South Africa's Nelson Mandela.

In each episode, Alan Titchmarsh and his merry band go to any lengths to turn overgrown wastelands into flowering beds, crushed-stone paths, decks, arbors and a "water feature," usually a gurgling fountain of some sort.

Sure, we've all seen how-to and do-it-yourself shows about gardening. "The Victory Garden" on PBS is an old friend: informative, scientific and clinical.

"Ground Force," on the other hand, is a contest of wits and a battle against the elements to produce a landscape that not only will be pleasing to the TV audience, but will bring true joy to an unsuspecting human being.

I've become a "Ground Force" addict. And it's not because I'll ever install a bubbling brook in my backyard.

It's because each episode concludes with a burst of pure pleasure, which I and other viewers can savor for a few minutes.

That's uplifting.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.