�Twas brillig and the slighty toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe
-----Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

Riding in the balding van across miles and miles of miles and miles, listening to Through the Looking Glass on tape, it hit me. Even after more than twenty years, visiting my in-laws atill is like reading the poem Jabberwocky. The rhythm is familiar and just enough actual words anchor the thing that it feels as though it should make sense. Yet meaning is illusory and real comprehension seems just beyond reach.

It�s not that I venture out expecting to slay the Jabberwock, whatever a Jabberwock is. There�s no Jabberwocy that threatens me. Nevertheless, �Beware the Jabberwock� feels like sage advice. Venturing out unarmed feels foolish. All that gyring and gimbling can make a body from a land lacking in toves uneasy. A verbal sword might be overkill but a verbal pocket knife is comforting.

It�s not that Mr. Philately�s family is mean or lacking in love. In fact, many members are absolutely delightful and I know that they care. It�s the group dynamics that elude me�and only part of it is clearly attributable to culture. I wish I could explain it better but, if I could explain it better, I might be able to blend in and cope better and I wouldn�t be writing what I�m writing today.

For starters, like the Jabberwock, Philatelies come and go unpredictably. Coming for a graduation does not mean that people will show and stay for the graduation. Time

seems much more free-flowing at my in-laws. People joke about �Jewish standard time.� �Jewish standard time� is late, but predictably late. Although I do not live on it, I can grasp the underlying principles of �Jewish standard time.� �Philately standard time� varies depending on the day and, more importantly, the conjunction of the moods of the participants in any event. It governs both the start and the end of events in ways I cannot comprehend.

Philatelies also scatter in odd patterns. Group decisionmaking appears to be a foreign concept. They arrange around activities, not around each other even if they haven�t seen each other in months. The idea of doing something a little boring that all can do together never occurs. Plans are made and changed and changed and made again among each small group until few people knows what they are and no one has any sense of the whole. As a result, people go out to get shirts they forgot to pack two or three times and no one seems surprised. My orderly little mind goes all mimsy every time. It�s hard to go with the flow in a whirlpool.

I�ve been lost in the wabe with in-laws for years. Does anyone know of a compass that works in the wabe?

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