The Tug Of A Crook

The art exhibition I wrote about Sunday featured a number of fascinating items and I had a few favorites. One of them was the least showy and least noticeable. It hangs in a corner next to some truly fascinating items including a collection of decorative axes and a ceremonial robe.

It’s a nineteenth century International Order of Oddfellows crook. This picture is truly terrible and I honestly think I took it by mistake but it’s all I have that shows the crook.

Here’s what the card says:

The crook, as the “staff of the shepherd,” is associated with the Odd Fellows Encampment Degrees. These degrees have rituals that tell stories of a shepherd’s life. The curved head is used to reach after and draw a member back to safety. The members recognize the crook as a symbol of watchful care, which they are expected to exhibit toward other members, family, friends and their community. 

What an extraordinary message of community and compassion. 

To think that this organization places such emphasis on looking out for one another is inspiring. It doesn’t say “look out for those who live by the rules we like.” Just look out for those around them and help pull them back from life’s dangers. 

Seems like we all could benefit from the tug of a crook once in a while.

The Places I Don’t Like

A friend sent me a recommendation the other day, noting that I hadn’t written about it so they assumed I hadn’t been. I was forced to break the hard news that I rarely write about the places I dislike. The fact I don’t like something doesn’t mean you won’t and I hate to deter people from visiting places, especially when they’re small businesses.

Being a small business owner is extraordinarily hard work on any day of the year especially in this economy. We are so conditioned to one-stop shopping at big box stores, the predictability of chain restaurants, and the convenience of Amazon ordering that we forget there’s a small business a few miles down the road that would love a chance to serve us. 

There’s a giant candy store here in Ohio that has the charm of a warehouse that smells like wet cardboard and a bookstore in a delightful neighborhood that makes me so claustrophic I shudder whenever someone recommends it. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to write a bad story about them unless the service is so inexcusably poor that I can’t resist.

There are so many amazing places in this world to tell you about. Why would I focus on the bad? 

Of course, that’s practically unAmerican at this point in our society since most people go straight for the bad, directly to the outrage and without any consideration for the damage they could be doing. There are enough people out there that keep you inflamed. I don’t need to be one of them.

So, if you ask me a direct question about a business, I’ll tactfully try to answer but would prefer to direct you to something I did enjoy. And keep those recommendations coming as well! Us adventurers have to stick together and keep all these cool places alive!