Good multiplied

    

When I was raising my son in Toledo, one of my friends was Jane, a young mother from Kentucky. I remember she used to send her daughters outside to play with a kiss on the top of the head and the words "Be good." (You have to imagine a southern drawl for the full effect)
       I was reminded of Jane today as I left the day-long Ted -X Macatawa meeting in Holland. "Do good" people said to each other instead of  "goodbye." 
      The day had been overflowing with "good" ideas. Improvements in our education system, a company run by retired executives aimed at providing clean water for third world countries, tips for the perfectly "imperfect", breaking out from the 'hood, creating products intended for reuse instead of waste, telling our stories, helping injured veterans be creative.
      It's hard to decide what "good" to do first. Little things like taking my morning tea on the deck and watching the sunrise instead of at my desk reading emails. Finding that dulcimer I put away and giving it another try. Calling an old friend to see how I can help. I was inspired with several major project ideas that will take longer to implement, but today, listening to all that enthusiasm, my ideas sounded doable. 
       In the impersonal tech world of Facebook and Twitter, it's inspiring to see people coming together simply to hear people talk about ideas. And then to talk to other people about what they heard. Talk. Talk about good. Better. Now. We can.Good.
      
      

Crazy good

I've never been one for horror movies. I don't like to be scared silly. And if I anticipate somebody's about to get hurt in the movie I'm watching, I close my eyes.

But I couldn't take my eyes off "Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street," the latest offering at Circle Theatre. It's a horrifying story, yet there's an unspoken pact somehow between actors and audience that there will be no blood. The murders will be hinted, even laughed about, but never actually seen.

Instead we see the eyes. The fear. The hate. The greed and plotting. The helpless vulnerability. And you just can't turn away from it. It's mesmerizing. Oh, my skin is still crawling.

See it ... if you dare.