Immeasurably More

   It is a sunny afternoon in Tulsa.    I go out to wander the mostly deserted streets.    I cross the street and pass one of many Mexican restaurants. On the opposite corner is a theater with its New Year's Eve advertisement still on the marquee.    I walk away from the theatre and stop to look in the window of a violin shop with four bass violins on display and a bicycle leaning against the counter.  Through the next window I can see a instruments in pieces on the luthier's table.    Along the next block I find two coffeeshops I have never noticed before.    I turn the corner and discover a glass blowing school also with a bicycle visible through the window.  I wonder about these bicyles.  Does anyone ride them? I have seen fewer cyclists than pedestrians in Tulsa.    As I walk past the green, I see a homeless man asleep on a bench.  He looks young and I wonder how he came to be in Tulsa and where he will sleep tonight.    Despite my indirect route, I have a destina

Dear Reader, Yesterday a box was delivered to my door, a gift from a friend.  Assembly required.  I was delighted, not just for the gift (a coat rack.  Thanks, Friend!), but also for the chance to assemble something.  I had forgotten until recently how much I enjoy putting together flatpack furniture and that I'm actually pretty good at it.  Perhaps because I always read the instructions. My mail order flatpack coat rack and the counter stools I picked up from Walmart last week are certainly not heirloom furniture.  The aren't going to stand up to 100 years of daily use.  But they have other virtues. I can lift the boxes. The boxes will fit in my car. Until you've spent time on craigslist considering the weight and dimensions of various used furniture listings, these virtues may not rank high on your list of desirable qualities in furniture.  But after confirming that the Tulsan women of my acquaintance do not drive trucks or lift weights, these two qualities be