THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, May 7, 1995 TAG: 9505040151
SECTION: CAROLINA COAST PAGE: 35 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Editorial
SOURCE: Ron Speer
LENGTH: Medium: 73 lines
Sue Maloney of Elizabeth City State University brought me a round loaf of brown bread the other day. It was beautiful. And delicious. Sliced, toasted and covered liberally with butter, it was perhaps the best bread I've ever eaten.
I loved it, and Sue was delighted. She had made it herself, from scratch, using an old family recipe.
She had mixed it and kneaded it and watched it rise, and was proud of the product of her work with her hands.
That reminded me that it is about time for an updated version of my annual column about what I'd tell graduates if ever I spoke at commencement:
Learn to do something with your hands.
Nothing - absolutely nothing - is as satisfying as creating something with your fingers and thumbs.
And it doesn't have to be perfect. Remember always that the greatest American, Thomas Jefferson, rigged a huge clock at Monticello and made the hanging chain so long he had to cut a hole in the floor to make it work.
Since we've moved into our home at Roanoke Island, I've been building bookcases. A close look will show that the joints and corners were done by a newspaperman and not a cabinetmaker. But I don't mind.
Every night when I come home I glance at the shining shelves and marvel at the wondrous thing I've made.
And almost every morning, before I tackle the day's challenges, I stroll around the back yard checking the progress of the grapes and blackberries and blueberries and raspberries that I planted this spring.
They are doing marvelously, and I go off to mind-boggling work feeling like a direct descendant of Luther Burbank or Johnny Appleseed.
Not many of us in an electronic world get to work with our hands. Those who do are blessed. My late brother-in-law was a bricklayer, and every house and church and business he helped build was his. He'd take me for a drive around Nebraska and point out ``my church,'' ``my doctor's office,'' ``my house.''
Most of us have to find ways off the job to fulfill our creative urges, but we have a multitude of choices.
Baking pies or cakes or bread like Sue Maloney is one of the best. It takes nothing but time, and turning flour and milk and eggs and sugar into a mouth-watering concoction has comforted men and women over the centuries.
So has making pottery, perhaps the ultimate hands-on occupation. I took a course years ago that made me feel young and frisky, playing with mud on a spinning wheel and watching my fingers design what I consider the world's most perfect pot.
Others find solace and satisfaction in knitting or sewing. A high-powered lawyer friend delights in sewing her own clothes and making canvas covers for their boat.
And I have always thought that folks with musical skill were the most blessed of all people.
Before I die I want to learn to play the piano. I can't think of anything more soothing than to go home after a long day, sit down and pound out Beethoven's Fifth . . . Ba-ba-ba-booom.
People who can draw are lucky, too. Turning an idea into reality with a stroke of a brush is one of the most satisfying of skills.
But you don't have to be creative or talented to reap the benefits of doing something with your hands.
Teaching a daughter to cast a fly and hook a fish may be the best thing you can do for the future happiness of an offspring. And the biggest, proudest smile I ever saw came from a 12-year-old neighbor kid's face when my lawn mower popped into life after he fixed it.
``. . . And so I say, as we gather here for this graduation ceremony that marks your entry into the real world . . . Learn to do something with your hands.'' by CNB