Going Inkless

     Over the years, I have observed a kind of snobbery relating to forms of entertainment.  It is assumed that the only true or worthy art is in books and that classic literature is the height of that.  Modern works are, of course, less valuable than older ones because we've lost so much intellect, grace and elegance since those golden days. There are those who proudly announce at every opportunity that they don't watch television or that the only movies they see are documentaries.  The conclusion is that everything else is worthless tripe that could only be enjoyed by those of lesser intelligence than the snob.      The prejudice even extends to those who guiltily enjoy movies rather than "cinema", non-educational television, or "lesser" literature like comic books or science fiction.  Often, they seem almost apologetic or ashamed when they judge their choices as the candy of artistic offerings rather than the vegetables. ...

The standard answer my Grandma would give whenever one of us kids would complain about the cold was one simple question.  "What are you gonna do when winter comes?"  To this day, it replays in my mind every time I notice a chill or hear someone comment on the frosty weather.  "What are you gonna do when winter comes?" It sounds curt, unsympathetic, or maybe a little cold, but the response was always delivered with kindness.  I assure you, she did care about our comfort.  She was concerned about red cheeks and noses when we came in from hours of snowball wars, from tunneling through drifts or climbing the snow covered wood pile in order to reach the low-hanging icicles.  She fed us hot cocoa and gave us warm socks for Christmas like any other grandmother.  The question was more a matter of philosophy - in far fewer words than I might use, but that was part of her Grandma magic, I guess.  She was succinct, often with a touch of humour, and she let...