Alumni Bulletin - Winter 2008 - (Page Cover3)

the last word A NIGHT OF STARGAZING IN ZOELLNER “It’s been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my hometown,” began Garrison Keillor as he related news from the ﬁctional town in Minnesota. On the Saturday before Christmas, the eccentric creator of National Public Radio’s A Prairie Home Companion was seated on a four-legged stool with his festive red shoes and socks visible beneath the hem of his pants. On Christmas Eve, a stranger arrived in Lake Wobegon, Keillor told the audience in Lehigh University’s Zoellner Arts Center. Strangers are rare in the tiny town, and when they do appear, they are usually seeking directions to the nearest interstate. This man was not lost, but was seeking his lost wife, Lynn. A few weeks earlier, she had left him a note, saying that she “missed winter and snow in the worst way and could not bear to have another rainy Christmas Day,” Keillor said. “It’s that time of year when people are in the mood to wander,” Keillor said, explaining the woman’s ﬂight from California to Lake Wobegon, the town of her birth. “It’s that moment before Christmas when we go out and stand underneath the starry skies and think of Christmases past, and perhaps that’s what happened to Lynn.” As I sat in the last row of Baker Hall’s Grand Tier that night, I felt a little like Lynn, thinking of years beyond my memory. Garrison Keillor’s radio show is a relic from an era when fewer media messages clamored for our attention. Daily, I am inundated with millions of messages. I scan the New York Times Web page for the latest news and barely notice the orange box in the corner enticing me to invest in ING Direct or the green ad only a few inches away that declares Fidelity Investments are a “smart move.” This evening, I will drive home, passing multiple billboards, trucks with the names of grocery stores emblazoned across their trailers, and signs for fast food restaurants and gasoline stations. The radio station will update me on the news and trafﬁc. Before I have time to consider the potential impact of these current events, I am singing along to the songs. When I get home, I will probably cook dinner and watch a rerun of The Office or read a book while listening to quiet music until I fall asleep. Even if I remember all the consumer messages, news, and entertainment programs I experience throughout the day, this information has little worth unless I understand its greater implications. For example, the date the Magna Carta was signed is signiﬁcant, not for the number itself, but for understanding how that historical document changed English politics and inﬂuenced America’s history and law. The constant barrage of visual and auditory noise that I experience prevents me from deciphering the messages it conveys. Without reﬂection, I may accept myths as truth or assimilate beliefs from the culture that I do not personally espouse. The same way mindless eating leads to obesity, mindless ingesting of information leads to poor mental health. The human mind can only handle a limited amount of information at once, and when it is presented with a multitude of in- formation at once, its focus is scattered. I believe this attempt to interpret and respond to multiple messages strains the mind, generating stress. Keillor’s show provides an antidote for this stress by allowing the audience to focus on one act, one sound, at a time. Keillor encourages his listeners to savor the music and reﬂect on his skits, which often poked fun at our fastpaced world, such as a tongue-in-cheek advertisement for “Cloves Stuck in an Orange.” The meandering of A Prairie Home Companion gives the audience time to delight in the simple things—a beautifully performed song, a cleverly spun phrase, or even a childish joke. Coming from a generation that communicates through e-mails, instant messages, text messages, Facebook, and cell phones, I found comfort in “unplugging” for a few hours. As I listened to the radio show that night in Bethlehem, I was metaphorically “standing underneath the starry skies,” dreaming of times past, present, and yet to come. Like Lynn, I had escaped from this hectic world to the quiet shores of Lake Wobegon. Becky Straw ’06, ’07G is a communications associate with Lehigh University’s department of university relations. She graduated with bachelor’s degrees in journalism/science writing and biology, and earned her master of science degree in health and bio-pharmaceutical economics as a President’s Scholar. ©2008 Lehigh University. Produced by University Relations (#7023:0208) PHOTO BY DOUGLAS BENEDICT

Table of Contents Feed for the Digital Edition of Alumni Bulletin - Winter 2008

Alumni Bulletin - Winter 2008 Contents From the President's Desk Mailbox On Campus Research Arts & Culture Sports Ugly is in the Eye of the Beholder Fitch's Law of Motion A Blessing to the Community The Amidonian Acclamation China Trip Bridges Cultures, Generations From the Publisher's Desk Alumni News The Last Word

Alumni Bulletin - Winter 2008

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