"A part of this -- the part about what I learned in kindergarten -- was passed around the country until it took on a life of its own. One day it was sent home in the knapsack of a child whose mother is a literary agent..." (Robert Fulghum) Thus history was written -- serendipitous indeed. I have read the chain message, which lists these gems, many times from various Internet friends, throughout the years. Many of the phrases are clichés now because of the truth within the words.
Finding fragments of our own lives in these pages is easy. Fulghum consolidated his extensive Credo of life into a simpler format, such as: "Remember the Dick and Jane books and the first word you learned -- the biggest word of all -- is LOOK." Look both ways... look into the heart of the matter... look at yourself... look at history... look what happened... look at what you missed....
All of the kindergarten principles are found in the first three pages, and then Fulghum reveals how he applied these ideals throughout his life. One example is his encounters with a neighbor who was a "raker and a shoveler." He picked up the leaves and shoveled away the snow, but with the attitude of you "can't let old Mother Nature get ahead of you," and considered Fulghum to be a lazy neighbor. The leaves pile up, become mulch, and make more earth. The snow melts and feeds the land. Nature has taken care of itself for a long time. I imagined someone going into the woods and everywhere else, daily gathering leaves in a constant frustrating battle, and at season's change shoveling the snow from one place to another. Of course, I would want the leaves raked up and the snow shoveled off the driveway and sidewalk, but my dad, who understood the cycle, put the greens in the garden.
Fulghum shows the fallacy of gender encoding through a simple example about cars -- the Y chromosome does not mean a man knows about jumper cables. "Besides, this guy only asked me if I 'had' jumper cables, not if I knew how to 'use' them." He describes an incident where he and the stranded collaborator swaggered around, "being all macho and cool and talking automobile talk." They looked under the hood of the car, and there was no battery. "'Hell,' I said, 'there's your problem right there. Somebody stole your battery.'"
In these marvelous vignettes, Fulghum shows a simpler way to look at those things we confront in life. The book was first published in 1986, and it is still being published. Very few books survive this long -- only the good ones do. Five stars.
Victoria Tarrani
