From the mid-1960s to the mid-1990s she was possibly the most famous housewife in the world. She was involved in all areas of communication but her first and primary role was as a newspaper columnist. She wrote about the amusing side of suburban motherhood for thirty million readers.
Erma was like an imperfect Martha Stewart and a genteel Rosanne Barr. In her 4,000 columns Erma made fun of society, her family, and most of all, herself. She did appearances on Good Morning America for over a decade, starred in a television show, and published fifteen books.
Well, guess what?
Her legacy lives on in many ways, one of which is an every-other-year humor writing conference in Dayton, Ohio where she grew up. It takes place at Dayton College where Erma earned her degree. Her family is still involved, which is nice.
This year I was able to attend along with around 350 other writers of newspaper columns, blogs, books, and podcasts. There was even a writing contest which – I hope you are sitting down – I did not win. I am just as surprised as you are.
I would estimate that 90% of the participants were women, which you can define any way you want. Erma was a real role model for women humorists, so that makes sense. It did occur to me that if a conference were held with 90% men attending there might be a congressional investigation.
There were plenty of tips on how to write better, but a majority of the conversation was about how to get people to read what we write. The publishing industry is difficult to penetrate, self-published books are exceedingly difficult to market, and a lot of people don’t read books anymore – paper or Kindle. Truth be told, according to the National Literacy Institute, in 2024 54% of U.S. adults read at or below a sixth-grade level.
I’m sure a lot of books don’t get published because they aren’t very good, but I’m also sure some great literature will never reach the public. One reason is that authors give up after too much rejection.
Erma never gave up. It took a lot of hard work for her to break into the newspaper industry at a time when very few women were making a go of it. She worked as hard as she had to, to make a career of writing humor. She was also extraordinarily talented and naturally funny.
There was much talk about the artificial intelligence writing that’s being done and will become omnipresent before long. Nobody knows for sure how AI will impact the writing industry, but for people like me for whom writing is an essential part of being alive, it will probably reduce the chance of getting published from low to very low.
The conference was good, and I met a lot of genuinely nice people, and reconnected with someone I hadn’t seen for 40 years. Neither one of us has changed a bit. I got some valuable information and even more motivation to keep writing and trying to get my work “into the world.”
If you have not read any of Erma Bombeck’s work, I suggest you look her up. Some of what she wrote about is a little dated now, but a lot of it is universal and unchanging. And while you’re at it, consider buying a book of some sort. It is nice to hold something that doesn’t have lithium in it.
I was surprised this morning to see that my most recent post was made exactly six months ago. It’s funny, because I didn’t decide to take some time off from writing blog posts. I guess other things took priority. I’ve been working to finish a book I started two years ago and, while taking a break from that (see a pattern?) I wrote another book.
But Peter, you say, how can you write a book so quickly? You may have heard about an organization that goes by the less than catchy name “NaNoWriMo.” It stands for National November Writing Month. The idea is to meet the challenge by writing 50,000 words in November. I did it. I wrote a new novel, finishing with 55,000 words. With editing it’s now up over 60,000 words, which is still short for a novel.
As you can imagine, the writing and rewriting that followed took most of my writing attention.
When I was doing my newspaper column over 20 years, I did one per week, with a few weeks off in a year. Many of those columns are available here on my WordPress blog site. Those, and my blog posts since I stopped doing the columns, are/were about what I think about things. The nice thing about writing fiction is that it’s about what my characters think and do. Some of me leaks in, I’m sure, but I like imagining what those people would say or do.
I’ve also been sending my “Interesting Things” newsletter twice per month. They’re free and take only a few minutes to read. Here’s an example of some of the splendid things of interest from a few months ago:
A “drupe” is a fleshy fruit that contains a single seed, like a peach. Blackberries and raspberries are “drupelets” because they consist of an amalgamation of many little drupes that are fused together.
“Croup,” also called laryngotracheobronchitis, is a type of respiratory infection in children. Traditional treatment involved exposing the patient to winter air.
The first known use of the word “goop” occurred in 1918, which was way before Gwyneth Paltrow was born.
“Cooper’s Droop” denotes the sagging of women’s breasts due to the Cooper’s ligaments wearing out.
The two-door “coupe” is named after the two-seater horse-drawn carriage called the coupé.
“Poop” can mean a superstructure on the stern of a ship, a disagreeable person, or excrement. There is something called the Bristol Stool Chart to help describe different types of the latter. Really!
A “stoop” is a porch or steps. To stoop is to bend or to lower oneself. It also describes a bird swooping down on its prey. A swoop stoop.
A “troop” can be a group of soldiers, monkeys, actors (troupe), Girl Scouts or Boy Scouts.
A “dupe” is someone who is easily deceived. A fool. Or is it?
The “Sloop John B.” was a hit song by the Beach Boys. It is based on a Bahamian folk song about a sunken boat. Who knew?
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During this time when live podcasts or produced videos have taken over our communications I’m sticking with the written word. I know the trend is to be outrageous in order to get people to like and follow you, but that doesn’t feel like something I’d be good at. Maybe I’ll start something called “Only Fans of My Writing.” I can do a live cam of me writing without a shirt on, or something. That will have to wait for warmer weather.
“Oh, what a tangled web we weave…when first we practice to deceive.”
–Walter Scott, 1908
There has been a lot of testifying going on lately. A whole lot! You can even say there’s more testifying going on than there is in a large tent on a hot Georgia night.
Some of the things people are testifying to under oath seem to contradict things other people have said when they weren’t under oath. That sort of thing can happen, of course, since people’s memories are not perfect, and neither are their ethics.
Even though we all say that everyone should tell the truth, there are apparently no legal consequences for telling lies when we aren’t under oath.
That, I think, is a problem. People lie when it is convenient to do so, and that includes politicians and bureaucrats and others who have something to gain by lying or something to lose by telling the truth.
In a larger sense, it is a problem, in my opinion, that lies are so easily told and so readily tolerated. Big lies and little lies… meaningless lies and lies of great consequence… we are inundated with half-truths and all-out lies.
It’s no wonder people are cynical.
A lot of lies told by government types are put forth, ostensibly, to protect citizens from things they don’t want to hear, or that may frighten them. The current example is 75 years of denials that there are UFO’s. Other official lies seem to be told to protect the reputations of people and policies. Those lies obstruct the citizens’ ability to properly judge and vote for our lawmakers.
The other day a thought came to me that might be the start of a good idea. Here it is: if people are more prone to tell the truth under oath, and since all elected officials and many other bureaucrats take some sort of oath of office, why not include telling the truth in those oaths? You could even expand it to oaths of candidacy for people running for office.
Perhaps people would be less inclined to lie “on the stump” if they could be charged with perjury. Lies during a presidential or congressional press conference could also be prosecuted.
“Ah, but Peter, do we really want to criminalize politics?”
No, we don’t, but that train left the station a long time ago.
“But, what about people who misspeak or have a false recollection?”
That’s what juries are for. They can look at the facts of a perjury case and make those judgements.
“Well, how in the world are we going to prosecute all the lies told by politicians and bureaucrats without bringing the government and the judiciary to a standstill?”
I guess that’s the point. The volume (both quantity and loudness) of lies is so great that it might be impossible to keep up with all the trials that would ensue. If lies were roaches, wouldn’t we call an exterminator?
Here’s an example of a political lie that still bothers me. During the 2016 campaign season then Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid repeated several times that candidate Mitt Romney hadn’t paid Federal taxes for ten years. It wasn’t true, of course, but that didn’t matter. Three years later, as he prepared to retire, Reid was asked if he had regrets for having made those statements. His response? “Romney didn’t win, did he?”
His answer resonated as an example of what I’ve come to see as an evil justification for lies and other corruption: The ends justify the means.
Novelist Gore Vidal once said, “Once a country is habituated to liars, it takes generations to get the truth back.” I suspect he was correct. I hope things move faster than that, but I guess that depends on how willing we are to hold the liars accountable.
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I recently attended a wake for a friend. The word “wake” seems a little ironic, but we’ll just let that pass. No pun intended. Really!
This person, like many people in this century, chose to be cremated and to have her ashes sprinkled in certain locations. I understand that this is important to many people – the sprinkling part – but at least at the moment I’m not sure knowing where my ashes will reside gives me any comfort.
Here’s what came to mind when I pondered that day: Think of all the history located on gravestones in cemeteries around the world, going back hundreds of years. As cremation and sprinkling become common, none of those people will be identified in stone as to their birth and death and, in some cases, who their close relatives were.
It’s true that the print and digital worlds offer limitless ways to archive a person’s life’s work, and that all kinds of evidence will likely persist through the ages. And yet, there’s something about looking at a gravestone from 1900 or 1800 that brings me to that era, for a moment, imagining those remaining gathered around the coffin.
Added to the virtual (no pun intended again) elimination of written correspondence between friends, lovers, and relations (another pun not intended), we will be left without the paper evidence of so many thoughts and aspirations. Letters Tim Burns presented in his series on the Civil War brought chills to many viewers as soldiers wrote to those at home about their love and patriotism. I don’t think a text would survive for 150 years, and without the handwriting and fully spelled out words, it just wouldn’t be the same.
The upside is that more people than before are writing memoires, which is probably part of our search for immortality. I’m writing one which will probably only be of interest to my family members. They have to say they like it, don’t they?
As individuals it isn’t our job to document our lives for the ages. It’s a shame that some traditional means of doing that are fading out of favor. Assuming somebody someday has an interest in you and me, I hope the history they reconstruct is much more exciting than the reality!
I’m sure my memory is wrong on this, but I’m pretty sure I remember a time or two, after a hurricane or some other disaster, hearing some law enforcement person warn that “looters will be shot on sight.” I also remember that the statement wasn’t that surprising. It was a strong statement to discourage looting.
Somehow, though, threatening to shoot looters or other criminals in the present day seems way out of line — a big overreaction, which would likely result in the arrest and conviction of any officer involved in the shooting. In fact, in many cities the act of stealing from stores is now totally without consequences, unless the theft is of merchandise that totals over a certain dollar amount. Steal less than that, and you’re fine. It’s like looting during business hours.
Not surprisingly, store owners in areas of those cities find themselves wondering why they are open for business, and, failing to find an answer, many are closing.
In Chicago, Walmart announced it is closing three stores which consistently lose money because of theft. The closing of stores in urban areas results in what are called “retail deserts” where groceries and other things are not available to the people who live nearby – many of whom lack transportation. Some Chicago city officials blame Walmart for leaving citizens in these areas high and dry. I would think Walmart might have some blame to assign to those in power who look the other way when it comes to retail theft.
Consequences, like it or not, play an important role in human behavior starting in childhood. As adults we weigh the consequences of our actions every time we open the refrigerator door, desire an expensive car, or meet someone very attractive who isn’t our spouse. We learn that we can’t just do what we want, or have what we want, without paying the price.
The movement away from consequences and towards understanding victimology as the underlying causes of criminal behavior doesn’t seem to be trending in a positive way. Violent criminals, released from prison, often revert to violent criminal behavior. Hence the term, “violent criminals.” Others who have not yet engaged with the justice system see that criminal behavior doesn’t result in serious consequences, so they steal a car, rob a house, or rape a woman. When those things occur, the victims don’t much care what the underlying causes of that criminal behavior might be. They want the perpetrator to receive consequences.
Some societies inflict what we would call cruel and unusual punishment, like whipping or caning for certain crimes. Certainly, many forms of corporal punishment occur around the world. I wouldn’t argue for those things in our country, but if I saw the perpetrator of a serious crime against me or my family get away with little or no punishment, I might change my mind.
Is some crime understandable? In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean was imprisoned for stealing a loaf of bread because he was starving. He is pursued relentlessly for the rest of his life for that offense. Pilfered bread for a hungry person, however, is very different from a stolen big screen television for someone who might already have one.
I, and many others, feel like crime is a big problem that has become muddled together with accusations of racism and inequality to make it seem more difficult than it is. New York City, years ago, made a big dent in their crime problem through effective policing. So, we know it can be done, if cities commit to it.
Sometimes well-meaning people try to solve problems and, in the process, cause more problems. If it is true that too many young males are in prison, one answer is to release them. A better answer might be to shore up our social structures – families, mostly – to reduce the propensity towards committing crimes in the first place, thereby causing fewer crimes and fewer people in prisons. It wouldn’t be a quick fix, but things didn’t deteriorate quickly either. Families are where the concept of consequences is first learned, and where many people are introduced to morality, i.e., the Ten Commandments, or other religions’ versions of such moral codes.
I think, too, that we should probably stop voting for district attorneys who don’t think that crime is a big problem. How safe a person feels changes how they live their lives. That goes for minority kids who are harassed by police and shopkeepers and other adults who are harassed by young people.
The ironic thing is that in this less-safe world the non-criminals are experiencing consequences, like higher prices, less convenience, fewer stores, and concerns for our physical safety. It will be interesting to see if our leaders or the public reach the point where the crime situation is effectively dealt with.
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April Fools’ Day has been called off due to potential hurt feelings that might arise when the foolers succeed in fooling the fooled. April Fools’ Day is not consistent with providing everyone with a safe, equitable, gender and race neutral and enriching environment.
Now that April Fools’ Day has ended, let’s look back on the origins of the observance. Sadly, nobody knows for sure. The fools who were supposed to remember it lost that slip of paper. People have ideas about how April Fools’ Day started, but it’s probably not religious and probably not put forth by the big greeting card companies.
A fool’s day always seemed like a good idea to me. We’re all a little foolish, from time to time. Idiot’s Day would have gone a little too far, although in Woody Allen’s movie, “Love and Death” the idiot from his Russian town goes off to a village idiot’s convention. I’d pay to see that.
Really, though, maybe now is a good time to dispense with April Fools’ Day. After all, it is becoming more and more difficult to come up with practical joke news stories that are too absurd to believe, since much of what we read is unbelievable. I won’t give examples here because I don’t want anyone to feel unsafe.
Sometimes it seems like the target demographic for many of our politicians and other thought leaders is a group that could well be described as foolish. Of course, behaving foolishly doesn’t make someone a fool. There is always the opportunity for people to question what they’re being told and see the illogic that surrounds them.
So, anyway, that’s the story on April Fools’ Day. If someone plays a practical, or impractical joke on you on April 1st, know that it is unauthorized and not condoned. Really!
I think I could have been fine living in a city, or in a typical suburban place. I’ve never really had a strong desire to be in the country, or, I guess, anywhere else. So, when I married someone who wanted to live in the country I was fine with it. If I didn’t have a dream to pursue, why not go with hers?
Over the years the country experience has brought me many experiences I wouldn’t otherwise have had – mostly good. I’ve learned to drive tractors, bale and mow hay, put in fence posts, and I even “pulled” two lambs who wouldn’t have survived had I not helped with their birth. To be clear, I only did that because the actual shepherd was not available at the time. But, still, it was an amazing experience.
A few years ago while at a gardening seminar I saw a presentation by a young man who lived in town, but still managed to tap his maple trees and make syrup. My father-in-law had been making syrup for a few years but it never occurred to me that I could do it. I took furious notes (illegible and useless it turns out) and got the needed supplies to give it a try.
Our maple trees are in our yard. Some are huge, but not very healthy. Some are not very old. None of them are “sugar maple” trees, but the more prolific “silver maples.” Still, they have sap, so I blundered ahead.
Without going into details, the sap “runs” when the temperature goes below freezing at night and above freezing during the day. So, the “season” seems to be about a month long. It’s the time of year when our yard might have a foot of snow on it or be mostly mud. So, trudging around from tree to tree to check the buckets is quite an outdoorsy experience.
I boil the sap outside on a wood fire up to a point, and then finish it inside. Here’s the thing: If you want a gallon of syrup you need 40 gallons of sap. It takes a while, and a lot of wood, to boil it down. Fortunately, it seems that silver maple trees drop about half their weight in dead branches every year, so we have enough things to burn.
Finally, we can the finished product and enjoy it for the year to come, and give some away to friends and family, which is even more enjoyable.
If you had told me 50 years ago that I would make maple syrup, make my own horseradish, deliver lambs, drive tractors, or a hundred other country-type experiences, I would have said you were nuts. Maybe it all goes to prove that you don’t need to have a dream to pursue, but just the willingness to buy into the dream of someone you love.
As I sit at my desk pondering the state of things around the world I come to a shocking realization: I have a lot of crap on my desk.
For example, I have five seasons of the 1960’s TV program called “Combat” on DVD, waiting for me to try to sell online. There is a 30-year-old solar powered calculator, even though both my computer and phone have calculators on them. There is a tuning fork, that vibrates 128 times per second, which is supposed to be good for our brains and bodies.
Speaking of health, there are several empty containers that once held Turmeric, vitamin B-12 and other things, sitting out to remind me to reorder them so I can fill up my two-week pill organizer with supplements that will make me live forever, or something. There is also the ubiquitous hand sanitizer bottle to dry my skin and some Lubriderm to hydrate it again. There is a spray can of “Old English” wood polish for the health of my wooden desk. Also, there is a bar of handmade soap because I like how it smells.
Some holdovers from the days of paper include a tape dispenser, a stapler (not red) several notebooks, pens and a pair of scissors. Also, paperclips. I’ve never gravitated to phone-based calendars, so my “Month at a Glance” calendar proudly faces me with very few appointments to show. I am retired, after all. There is a wooden tray that serves as an inbox and an outbox – mostly storage until I through the papers away.
I have a few dead bugs on my desk and, not coincidentally, a fly-swatter. There is also a mouse, but not the rodent type. It’s wireless and sits on a mouse pad. There are a lot of cords that attach various things to my laptop computer. Most of them are in a tangle under the desk, but I see plenty up on top. There is a camera for Zoom meetings that works great, except during Zoom meetings when it causes my image to hop around erratically. Could be worse. Could be erotically.
And there is an Eine Reichsmark bill. I honestly have no idea where I got it. I’ve been to Germany, but that was 48 years ago. It doesn’t have any swastikas on it, so that’s good.
Finally, there is a “Big Buddy” cup with a soft drink in it. I’m told that it is a bad habit to drink pop, and I suppose it is. There are worse habits, I’m sure.
So, with the exception of a few even more random things, that’s what’s on my desk at the moment. You may ask (as I do) what the stuff on my desk has to do with the state of the world. Not much, except that maybe if I’m going to insist that people in power get their acts together to start repairing the damage that’s been done at all levels of government and media, maybe it wouldn’t be asking too much of myself to clean my desk.
Generosity is a wonderful trait. Giving to those in need makes us better people, in my opinion. There are non-profits to help most anyone in need and to pursue solutions to all sorts of problems around the world. It’s a wonderful thing when people lend a hand through those charities, or on their own.
A generous nature is a great attribute. After all, when we voluntarily give we are enriching others’ lives at the expense of our own. Sure, there are benefits to giving, such as liking who we see in the mirror, but when we give to others it’s a largely altruistic act.
Here’s what happens, though, when generous, well-meaning people are put in charge of other people’s money: they give it away. Well-meaning people at all levels of government try to do good by giving away money that doesn’t belong to them.
As I said, their gifts are well meaning, although giving money and things to people and groups doesn’t hurt a person’s chances of reelection. Honestly, we as voters need to take responsibility for the government giveaways, since we are the ones who vote those “generous” people into office. We trust them to shepherd the tax monies we give them with a balance between practicality and empathy. When they get carried away with excessive generosity we can vote them out, but we haven’t done that recently.
The problem of giving too much away becomes worse when our desire to be generous obscures our wisdom. For example, it would be very generous if I tried to give you a million. The problem is, I don’t have a million dollars, so my decision to give you that money would be unwise, and undoable.
The people who run the Federal government, on the other hand, give away lots of money that doesn’t exist, borrowing more and more literally every day. The printing presses can hardly keep up with the volume of money being printed, and each of those pretend dollars decreases the value of all the dollars we have. It’s called inflation. That’s why it cost me almost $14 for a burrito and a small drink at Chipotle yesterday, compared to under $10 a couple of years ago.
As it turns out, the very low interest rates in the recent past helped cause this inflation, but kept the Federal debt payments in check. Now that interest rates are rising so are those payments. Some say the daily debt payments in less than ten years will be $3 billion, making debt (spending money we don’t have) the biggest part of the federal budget – even more than Medicare and Social Security.
The thing is, when legislators and presidents give away money to those in need, they give the impression that they are somehow generous people. In their own lives they may be generous, but in their jobs as stewards of the budget they are not. It isn’t their money that they’re giving away.
Both of our COVID era presidents thought it was necessary to send money to cities and states and businesses and to each one of us. I’m not an economist, so I don’t know if it was the right thing to do or not. It was fun to get those checks. For many people I’m sure it was a lifesaver. It didn’t matter if you needed it or not. Everybody got it. And then the government sent out some more. And then they did it again. It was all pretend money that was imagined from thin air.
Forgiveness of taxes, loans, or other such things isn’t generous if that money ends up coming from taxpayers and taxpayer debt in the future. The ads that say you don’t need to pay your $10,000 in unpaid taxes, or that the credit card companies are at fault for all the money you owe – well, they make me a little angry. I get that sometimes people get in a bind that isn’t their fault and – – knock-on-wood — that it doesn’t happen to me. But if it does there are bankruptcy laws to help people get a fresh start.
Before the USA got into World War II we sent money and supplies to England and the USSR to help them fight the Nazis. I think that was both generous and practical. The problem with such gifts occurs when we don’t really have the money to give or when the military equipment we give away is needed for our own defense.
Here’s what I think: I think everybody should give generously to people and causes that need help. I also think that anyone who is in charge of other people’s money should, at the very least, not give away money that doesn’t exist.
I am against wealth-shaming, but if people in political power have managed to acquire sufficient wealth to own multiple houses and private jets, they are welcome to give away some of their riches to help those in need. They should be very reticent about giving away too much of the money taken from us regular people in the form of taxes, or the borrowed money that will need to be paid back by our children and grandchildren.
It’s amazing what a difference a word or two can make. Instead of taking a liking to a photo I could say I’ve “taken a lichen” to the picture above. Afterall, I am a fun guy.
Ice cream without the cream is just ice, and without the ice, it’s just cream. Social Security would either be secure or social without the other word. And an ice cream social sounds fun unless we add the security at the end. Political parties would be more or less fun, depending on if we left out the word political or party.
I’ve often thought that some of the landmarks of our lives would be less popular with a different word or two. What if “Silly Putty” had been named, “Odd Caulk?” What if Barbie’s name were Fern or Mildred?
I think song titles are the most fertile ground for this thought process. Think of the classic Beatles’ songs that many of us grew up with. “I Want to Hold Your Thigh” doesn’t have the same sweetness as “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” Likewise, the whimsical, “When I’m Sixty-four” is much better than if they had chosen the age at which IRA withdrawals can be made (“When I’m 59 ½”).
“He’s A Real Nowhere Man” is one of my Beatles favorites. “He’s A Real Annoying Man” doesn’t have the same magic. You have to wonder if “Hey Frank!” would have done as well as “Hey Jude.”
How about “Twist and Groan,” “The Day Before Yesterday,” “Baby, You Can Ride My Bike,” “Here, There, and Over In the Corner?”
Using an alternate word in television show names could also have consequences. “American Idle” could be a show about adjusting gasoline engines. “Game of Fancy Chairs” doesn’t sound as interesting as “Game of Thrones,” although who knows? PBS might have a hard time selling kids on “Quinoa Street.”
With the Chinese spy in the sky getting so much attention lately it probably wouldn’t be right to refer to it as “The Communist Party Balloon.” It sounds too festive. It’s like calling “Illegal Aliens” “Undocumented immigrants.” Of course, it is illegal to be undocumented if you aren’t a citizen (an alien) but it sounds so much nicer the new way. An even better term might be “Unexpected Guests.”
In the economy we could call the “Cost of Living” the “Prize for Being Alive!” Nice. The self-check-out area at the store could be called the shoplifting express lane. Increasing car thefts could be called rising joy (riding).
Once again we find ourselves in the intersection between absurdity and actual news, so my best advice is to find humor wherever you can and remember what the Beatles said: “All You Need Is Cash.” Or something like that.
Here’s a story I read the other day. It seems a 15-year-old young man in Bangladesh was playing hide and seek with some friends. He decided to hide in a shipping container. While he was in there, being sought, he fell asleep. Six days later he was discovered in Malaysia, of all places. He was none the worse for the wear except for having a fever.
Now, I’m not sure how well the other players hid, but I think it’s pretty clear that this guy won the game. That being said, it must have been quite a surprise for him to find out he was in a completely different country when they opened the shipping container door.
The story reminded me a little bit of the story of Rip Van Winkle who fell asleep and woke up in the same place he fell asleep, but in a completely different time.
Now and then we’ll read about people who, having been in a coma for a lengthy period of time, miraculously wake up and come back to the conscious world. It must be difficult for them to get their heads around the fact that it’s a completely different time than it was the last time they were awake. It would take a lot of conversations for the ex-coma patient to get up to speed with how things have changed in that 10 years.
That scenario made me wonder what it would be like today for someone who had been in a coma for, say, 10 years. Because changes don’t happen all at once, I don’t think those of us in the non-coma population realize how different our world and our country have become. Our hypothetical newly awakened person – let’s call him Fred — would be shocked, I think.
For example, a bunch of people who were powerful and famous ten years ago are now untouchable due to the “woke” movement. Some are even in jail for their actions, which never seemed to happen to famous and powerful people in the past.
Criminal offenses are one thing, but some of these “cancelled” people, like Michael Richards (Kramer from Seinfeld), committed the politically incorrect “crime” of saying things that offended people. They didn’t get cancelled for using the “F-word,” and in fact that is commonly used. Saying, or having said the “N-word,” in the past, or saying disrespectful things about various cultures or gender-creative people can wipe you off the celebrity map.
Fred may go for a walk and find that a statue or two have been removed from the town square or from the university “quad.” Someone will explain to him that the people depicted in the statues lived in a time when many people owned slaves, and that any good things the statue people did for the country don’t matter because they had slaves too. Fred might wonder how tearing down the statues helps in the discussion of how slavery was, and is wrong.
Fred will also be confused that the term LGBT has grown some more letters at the end. He will hear some people say they think a person’s sex and gender are the same, and that they are determined by your chromosomes and your body parts. Then Fred will hear someone else say that gender and sex are not the same, that people can be “gender-fluid” and that people who view sex and gender in a binary way (there are two: pick one) are intolerant and hate-filled.
He probably won’t be shocked by the price of gasoline because he wouldn’t have seen the price fall down to around a dollar a gallon in 2020 when most people weren’t allowed to drive. He was in a coma, after all. Buying eggs, or a car, or lunch at a fast-food restaurant would certainly shock him.
He will also be surprised to learn that the “you’re fired” guy was elected president, and that Obama’s vice president has the job now. They are the last two people he would have imagined.
When Fred finds out that there was a pandemic for two years, and that there might or might not still be one, and that there is a vaccine with many booster shots that may or may not work, he may have to lie down again.
He might be glad to know that people can speak freely on Twitter again, but might be confused about why that would even be a thing. He would be surprised to hear of some elected officials and academic experts suggesting that free speech isn’t really important.
So many changes! Perhaps the best news for Fred is that after ten years in a coma he did not wake up in a shipping container in Malaysia. However, once he is presented with his hospital bill, he may change his mind.
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There are many reasons to not tell the truth. Some of them are altruistic, like wanting to spare someone’s feelings or protecting people from a truth that might make them panic.
Most lying, though, seems to come from the liar’s desire to create an alternate reality that puts them in a better light, or otherwise benefits them.
Either way, lies, by their nature, create a muddle that makes it impossible for anyone to make correct judgements and decisions. Don’t vote for him because he did it! Vote for me because I didn’t do it! Did he do it or not? We generally find out eventually, but by then it’s too late to use that information.
In politics the truth is tainted by its scarcity, by which I mean that so much of what is said is either untrue or exaggerated or misrepresented that the occasional truth that slips out is treated with the same suspicion as the lies. Okay, that, too, is an exaggeration, but you get my point.
It’s bad when politicians lie, but guess who runs our government? Politicians. So, it’s not a stretch to figure out that the government lies to us. Are there UFOs? We didn’t want to tell you because we thought you might panic.
People complain about the purveyors of conspiracy theories, but almost without fail they come from sincere doubts about what the public is being told. The Warren Commission, for example, has led to dozens of conspiracy theories because it didn’t ring true.
I’ve written before that the term “The ends justify the means” is one of the most dangerous statements ever made. It rationalizes and excuses many things that are otherwise just plain wrong. Supporters of corrupt leaders often overlook things that those leaders do because nobody’s perfect, and she or he is “doing so much good!”
It is true that nobody is perfect. Making a mistake and then being accountable for it might start a new trend in Washington, but I’m not going to hold my breath.
How many times have you lied today? Assuming for a moment that that number is greater than zero, ask yourself if there might have been a different way to handle whatever provoked those lies. Personally, I find that being told the truth by someone who could easily lie in a given situation makes me think of that person as trustworthy, which is no small thing.
There are exceptions, of course. If, at any time, I ask you if what I’m wearing makes me look fat I fully support your decision to skillfully navigate the waters of truth into the shallows of kind dishonesty.
I turned 10 years-old in 1963. Back then 10-year-olds had more autonomy than most kids have today. We could ride our bikes to the store to buy horrible quantities of awful candy that we craved. It’s a wonder I have any teeth left.
As a consumer, I was limited to buying things that involved coins. I had the occasional dollar bill, but mostly the things I bought cost less than that.
My dad had a Studebacker Lark like this one back in 1963
It is a classic old-guy thing to do, but let’s look at what a guy or a gal could get for a dime back in 1963. For perspective, the purchasing power of 10 cents back then is now 97 cents, which doesn’t seem to be that much of a difference considering how costs seem to have gone up.
In 1963 a bottle of Coke in a machine was a dime, as was a local phone call on a pay phone. A cup of coffee at a drive-in was a dime, though no kid I knew would drink the stuff. Baby Ruth and Reece’s candy were 10 cents. You could buy two packs of baseball cards for a dime, and that included a piece of pink something that was supposed to be bubble gum. If you didn’t want the cards, you could clip them to your bike’s spokes to make a motorcycle sound. Or you could skip the cards and get 10 pieces of Bazooka Joe bubble gum.
If you had a pen-pal you could buy two First Class stamps for a dime. You could get a small cone at some Dairy Queens for 10 cents. In my hometown of Oshkosh, Wisconsin you could buy four “Alaska Pop” frozen treats for a dime. I don’t know how they made any money!
If you found a glass pop bottle and returned it for the refund you could add that to your dime and get a comic book. I got a fair amount of my spending money returning bottles back in the days before disposable bottles were a thing.
All that and, believe it or not, a small bag of potato chips could be purchased for 10 cents. And, if you really wanted to ride the mechanical horse or rocket ship outside the grocery story you could do that for a dime too.
Yeah, that was a different time. Back then my dad would say how he could get a coke for a nickel, so I guess it’s just a function of the passage of time. Lately it seems like more than that. Lunch used to be $5, and now, all of a sudden, it’s over $10. Or is it my imagination that it’s happened so fast?
I like thinking about slipping that thin dime into the pop machine and pulling out a bottle of Coke or Pepsi, or that brand new soft drink, Mountain Dew.
This blog post is a bit different than my usual. I’m generally very big on the whole word thing, but here are some photos I took over the past few years. I hope you enjoy them.
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As I grew up, my father joined, and enjoyed being part of, the local Optimist Club. If you aren’t familiar with that club I can tell you that it is a service organization, international in scope, that works to help children. So, that’s good.
I think my dad was drawn to it mostly because of the name. He was one of a fairly rare breed – people who are both smart and optimistic. After all, it’s easy to be optimistic about things if you aren’t paying attention to what’s going on in the world, or don’t care.
My mother, on the other hand, was less optimistic, and quite a cynic. She could be a world class sarcasm champion when viewing the news of the world around her. She belonged to at least one service club and a church group, where I am sure she kept her sarcasm gun holstered. She, too, got involved to make the community better. Only the people closest to her got to enjoy her cynical remarks.
The thing is that my mom and dad coexisted just fine. I think she admired his dogged determination to be optimistic and he respected her perceptions of the world around them as being mostly accurate. Even in the years before talk radio and the internet, anybody paying attention knew that things were rarely what they seemed, and that power and money made the world go ‘round.
As a hybrid between my mother and father I have a finely honed sense of cynicism and sarcasm which I display in weak moments. I also try to look for positives when they are hard to find and give people – even people in power – the benefit of the doubt.
I believe that some conspiracy theories are probably real but that some of them are put forward by people who themselves want fame and the power to influence. I hate it that some purveyors of fear scare the old and easily influenced.
As I get older, I’m more aware that we only each get a certain number of days in life, and being optimistic doesn’t cost any more than being cynical. In that way I think my dad had it right. He would say, I think, that a person shouldn’t turn a blind eye to what’s wrong, but shouldn’t let that keep them from seeing what’s right, and working to make things even better.
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Frankly, I just don’t get it. I’m not against it, mind you, but I don’t understand the appeal. I’m talking about early voting.
I have early-voted many times in the past because I knew I would be out of town on the day of the election. I appreciated the chance to take care of my obligation to vote without having to cancel work meetings and such.
For many people, though, early voting seems to have more down-sides than up-sides.
The best analogy I can think of is betting on a football game. Do you want to place your bet before the game starts, at half-time, or with two minutes left to go in the game? Early voting forces voters to make up their minds without having all of the pertinent information, at least potentially.
Many people, it seems, make up their minds way before election day because they always vote for Democrats or Republicans or whatever other parties exist at the time. Other people are set on voting against a candidate without much analysis of the person they’re voting for. I get that, but as the campaign season moves along those strategies might seem less appealing to some of those voters.
Granted, “October surprises” are often overstated or just plain fabrications, but there are valid disqualifiers (in some people’s minds) that can make an early voter regret having pulled the trigger too quickly.
Proponents of early voting say it promotes greater voter turnout. Well, according to www.pewrearch.org, a University of Wisconsin study showed that early voting actually reduced voter turnout by three to four percent. That doesn’t make sense to me either, but that’s what the study showed.
Maybe the ability to vote when you feel like it has diluted the feeling of importance or urgency of election day? Just a thought.
To be honest, despite all the claims and refutations of voter fraud and manipulated results, I still appreciate the chance to go to the polling place with my fellow citizens – I assume most of them are citizens – to cast my vote and feel like a part of something important. Yes, people who vote early are also a part of that, but for me, election day is a big deal and I like to be there in person.
They told me it would be difficult to get an agent to represent my book. Famous authors often talk about the struggles they went through to get their first book published, starting with the travails of finding an agent willing to represent them.
The book business has changed, like everything else, and getting something published in the traditional way has gotten more difficult. Of course, self-publishing has never been easier, and if the old-fashioned way of getting my brilliant prose into people’s hands fails, I can always take the modern route.
I have a couple of observations about my quest, so far. I realize it’s probably risky to mention these things, but it would be difficult not to notice. First, there are a lot of literary agents out there! Lots of literary agencies, and most have ten or so agents. Second, most of them are women. By “most” I don’t mean 51%. I would say it’s over 80%. That’s not surprising or troubling, but interesting.
Third, an overwhelming majority of agencies and agents strongly encourage authors from “underrepresented” groups to submit manuscripts. Women authors are favored by many of the agents.
Here’s something interesting about women authors: About half of authors are women, but only a third of published books are by women. Yet, about 65% of books are purchased by women. I could analyze all that, but there are too many factors at play to draw any conclusions.
So, my situation is that I’m in an over-represented group of male authors, I’m not part of any underrepresented groups, and I really don’t know if my book is great or horrible. As the number of queries I send grows, with no positive response, I think it is probably not so great. Maybe there is an agent who will see some possibilities in it.
The thing is, even though there are thousands of books for sale out there, most books don’t get published. I imagine that most songs that are written aren’t recorded and that most artwork that is created isn’t sold.
Whenever I see a successful musician performing, I think about all the people who play and sing better than that person, but don’t have the drive or the interest to pursue stardom.
It’s comforting to know I’m not alone in trying to get the attention of an agent. Right now there are probably thousands of writers hitting “send” on an email to an agent, hoping she or he will be the one who sees something in their writing that the other agents couldn’t see. I take heart in knowing that I have a much, much better chance of getting an agent than I’d having winning the lottery, so there’s that.
So, I was driving down the road, minding my own business, when suddenly I saw it. It was written on a motorcoach — the type of bus that might take you to an airport or a casino trip, or might even transport a football team to a game.
It’s a good bus company, but I think their slogan might be a little concerning. Here’s what the bus had written on it: “We go the extra mile.”
In general, I like the idea of a company going the extra mile to serve their customers. But, with a bus, it’s really better if it goes the expected number of miles, like, to the bus terminal. If it goes the extra mile, everyone will have to disembark from the bus and somehow catch a ride back to the bus station.
There have been other company slogans that, if a person thinks about them, might leave unintended impressions. Coca Cola said “taste the feeling.” I don’t know about you, but I’m not that anxious to taste a lot of feelings I get. What does a mosquito bite taste like? Or the feeling that I’m being watched?
Reebok’s slogan, “I am what I am” is also what Popeye said to Olive Oyl. I’m not sure what that has to do with athletic shoes.
Starting in 2000, Google had as its motto, “Don’t be evil.” It strikes me that having to specify that as being a company policy implies that at least some Google employees needed to be told not to be evil. At least not on company time.
I don’t know if slogans really make much difference. Nike said we should “Just do it.” Do they mean play the sport or spend $500 on the shoes? Nancy Reagan said “Just say no.” That’s not bad advice, depending on what the question is.
Maybe a broader slogan would be to “Just do what it tastes like I am, but say no to evil shoes.”
That’s taking us the extra mile!
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As the calendar pages fly off faster than they do in one of those 1940s movies, I realize that I must be getting older. I’m not particularly good at math or physics, but I think it is impossible to not get older and stay alive.
That being said, I tend not to perceive myself as an old person. In fact, I am probably in denial about the whole thing. I remember the first time a person behind the counter at a fast-food restaurant said, “…and I gave you the senior discount.” I thought she must be delusional, but it turns out that I was.
It was years before I’d order something from the “Over 55” menu at Perkins. I didn’t want to admit the truth. Not only that, but a few weeks ago I saw a flyer for a town’s senior center, and it struck me that all the activities in that place were for me! I was a senior, or as one radio host used to say, a “seasoned citizen.”
Like a lot of people from my generation I usually wear jeans and sneakers. The jeans are “relaxed fit,” and the shoes are New Balance brand, because they cater to those of us with feet made wider from years of gravity.
My hair color is blond, and unlike people with black or brown hair, the gray bits just infiltrated the existing hair – what’s left of it – and when I’d look in the mirror, I wasn’t sure if what I was seeing was blond or silver. I’ve been told that it is no longer blond.
It seems surprising that I have grandchildren, though I once met a woman who became a grandmother at 32. She was the first hot grandma I ever met. At more than twice her age, not even I am delusional enough to consider myself a hot grandpa.
Sometimes I try to act younger. For some reason, however, it seems impossible to get in or out of chairs – particularly recliners – without making an old-guy sound of some sort. And I can’t help from looking slightly perplexed when I see a “man-bun” or a tattooed forehead.
So, in keeping with the current era, I have decided to acknowledge that I am an old person, but I am going to identify as middle-aged. I know I’m not 20, but to identify as a 50-year-old will be a nice compromise between how old I am and how old I feel like I am.
However, if there’s an opening at an old-guy discussion group at a nearby McDonald’s, I can be old.
For those of you playing along at home, the previous post goes on about my misgivings at attending my 50th high school class reunion.
Well, I went.
And, as you probably guessed, it was nice. It wasn’t life-changing or anything, but it was fun to connect with some people and to see in others what I choose not to see in myself, which is what happens to a person’s body after 50 years.
As is often the case with these types of events there was almost constant music. I love music, but I don’t love trying to speak more loudly than the musicians. Fortunately, there was an outdoor option after the banquet, and I had some good conversations there.
Mine was a big class. Around 900 graduated. Of those there were, I’d guess, 250 in attendance. Looking through the list, I estimated that there were 50 people I actually knew.
But here is the scary part: There was also a list of classmates who have died. I knew 25 of them. Not living in one’s hometown makes hearing about these things more difficult. Facebook posts have alerted me to some of the passings, but others came as quite a shock.
As I looked at that list some of the names were not surprising. Some people just didn’t seem to be in it for the long run, even back in high school. Seeing the list of expired classmates makes a fellow contemplate the good fortune of still being around after 50 years.
The next day there was a mini-reunion of our grade school/junior high school class. There were 20 or so people there, which was two-thirds or more of the total. Everybody seemed happy to be there.
The most meaningful part of the two reunions was taking the time to tell a few people how much I appreciated knowing them back then and thanked them for the influence they had on my life. I don’t do enough of that sort of thing, and with 50 years plus a week having passed already, I guess it doesn’t make sense to put that sort of conversation off for much longer.
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I’m sorry. Why? Well, of the 900+ of us who graduated 50 years ago I’m guessing I don’t remember most of you, even some who I probably should. The people I do remember I might not recognize. In 50 years, I don’t think I’ve changed much (I’m delusional), so why have you?
Having left town after college, I really have not kept up with what most of my classmates have been up to. I have run into a few people from time to time, and still keep in touch with some of my grade school and junior high friends. I haven’t gone to other reunions, but I was grateful that photos were posted on Facebook.
As an introvert, the part of parties, dances, and banquets and such that I most enjoy is people watching. Dancing is not my thing (is a gross understatement) and I don’t drink much, so my many inhibitions are safely in place.
Here’s the thing: going to a reunion with mostly people I don’t know or remember is not my idea of a good time. So why am I going? Good question.
My dad died in 1990. A few years before that he attended his first high school reunion – his 50th – in Minneapolis. He was not a highly social guy, but when he came home after the reunion, he was really happy he had gone. To paraphrase him, when he first got there, he could not believe how old everyone was, but after ten minutes he realized that their personalities had not changed. It was like going back in time.
With World War II and Korea having intervened since his graduation, along with accidents, illnesses and the usual things that take people from us, a number of his classmates did not live to see their 50th reunion. I know that to be true of our class also. Some of our friends have been gone for many years already, even though it is a hard thing to grasp.
So, as much as I do not look forward to encapsulating my 50 years into a few short sentences and repeating them over and over at the reunion, I do look forward to hearing how things have gone for you.
As I said at the beginning, I am sorry in advance if I don’t recognize or remember you. And, for all the people I saw every day moving in the crowded hallways between classes, I am sorry I did not get to know you back then. I was probably distracted at the time, trying to think of excuses for why my homework for the next class wasn’t done.
I am surprised to say that amidst my anxiety about our reunion I’m also looking forward to it. So, I hope you go, and here’s hoping we all have a great time.
I write blog posts like this, poetry, stories, and even books. What I really enjoy most, though, is writing titles. I understand from an author friend who has had hundreds of books published that the writer rarely comes up with the title. The publishers have “people” for that. Personally, I’d rather come up with the title first and then write the book.
Sometimes titles come to me when I hear somebody make a comment, hear a news story, or read an interesting sentence. Here are a few examples:
A Social Distance – A not-too-distant future where people are divided by genetic types to fight off a potential pandemic.
Some Restrictions May Apply – A woman starting a business finds the crushing regulatory environment to be too great to endure.
Code of Conduct – Employees of a large company are required to sign-off on a code of conduct, and violators are hunted down and killed.
Locally Sourced – In a low birth-rate future, communities offer children through population farms supplied by fertile prisoners.
Lifetime Warrantee – A cop works for years tracking down an alleged criminal to serve a warrant, and finally finds him in a hospice center during his last days. A little like “Les Miserables.”
Blood Pressure – The need for blood exceeds the voluntary donations. The black market intervenes.
His Forever Home – Sheltering in place becomes mandatory for non-compliant Americans. One fellow refuses to repent and is held in his home until he dies.
LGBTQ – A “Groundhog’s Day” sort of story where a woman keeps drawing the same letter tiles in an unending Scrabble game.
Farce Book – A new social media offering that allows only ridiculous posts. Turns out to be only a little different from Facebook.
There. A bunch of titles for books that might be surprisingly good. They are admittedly pretty dark, but I guess that’s where my head is at these days. Of course, writing the books takes a lot more time than writing the titles. A pity, really. Perhaps I’ll try my hand at one of those book ideas soon.
For now, I’m working on the 438th revision of a novel that I hope to start pedaling to agents and/or publishers pretty soon. With luck it will be a big success and I’ll become a household name like bathtub or living room. Watch this blog for some future samples of that almost-finished book.
I’m not so much a fan of practical jokes, especially if they frighten people. So, I’ve pretty much retired from the April Fools’ Day tradition.
However, if I had the urge to write something outrageous to see if I could trick people into believing it, I would be hard pressed to think of something more unbelievable than what is accepted as normal in our day-to-day world.
Examples? Sorry. I can’t give any. I would be at risk for being “cancelled.” I’ll bet you can think of a few things that defy any semblance of common sense but that are accepted by many as the only acceptable point of view. No discussion is allowed.
So, no April Fool jokes for me.
That being said, one of my three-year-old grandsons told me a joke on Wednesday.
“Knock-knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Rusty.”
“Rusty who?”
Then he laughed. He had no idea what the punchline was, or if there was one, or even what “punchline” means. It was funny to him that he could get me to say “Rusty who?” Very funny, in fact. It made his day. It made my day.
Like his joke, there are a lot of things going on these days that seem to need a punchline. But I don’t think there will be any. Just a series of absurdist assertions that people are afraid to contradict.
Thanks to Facebook’s massive servers, today I received a ”memory” of something I posted five years ago. It was an article written by Charles Leerhsen, a graduate school of journalism professor and former editor for Sports Illustrated and People magazines. He has also written for numerous newspapers and authored a number of books.
The article, based on a speech he gave at Hillsdale College, was about the baseball player named Ty Cobb. Kind-of.
What it was really about was the reputation that Ty Cobb has had since his death in 1961. He is well known as having been a racist and a dirty player.
Except that he wasn’t.
Leerhsen thought Cobb’s reputation as a bad guy was true. Then he started doing journalistic research. What he found was that there was nothing to support the commonly accepted allegations against Cobb. In fact, he found the opposite to be true, in some cases.
Was Cobb a racist? No. He attended Negro League games, and as desegregation of baseball was at hand he said, “The Negro should be accepted wholeheartedly, and not grudgingly.” “The Negro has the right to play professional baseball and whose [sic] to say he has not?”
That isn’t surprising, since he came from a family of Georgia abolitionists. His great-grandfather was run out of town for his abolitionist views, and his grandfather refused to serve in the Confederate army because of his.
So, why did famous documentarian Ken Burns describe Cobb as a racist? Well, Charles Alexander wrote a biography about Cobb, and in it he cited fights Cobb had with three black men. Leerhsen researched the black men with whom Cobb fought and discovered that two of the three were actually white. Cobb fought with a lot of people because he was thin-skinned. Fighting isn’t a good thing, of course, but it’s far less troubling than being a racist. Ken Burns used Alexander’s information without checking it, and I guess he had no reason to believe he should. Now, the millions of people who have seen Burns’ Baseball documentary also see Cobb as a racist.
Cobb was an amazing player who still holds many records and was the first player elected to the hall of fame (by 98% of the players who voted). But Leerhsen’s speech wasn’t about Cobb. It was about things we believe… things we’ve been told are true, that aren’t.
What have you been told about modern day politicians and celebrities that might turn out not to be true if it were researched? What things do we believe about a person because “that’s the kind of person he is,” when it turns out, he isn’t. Or she isn’t. Making up plausible lies seems acceptable, as long as those lies are about the “right” people.
A newspaper man named Al Stump ghostwrote an autobiography for the aging Cobb. He mostly made things up. Cobb was furious, and was in the process of suing the publisher when he died. Then, after his death, Stump wrote another book about Cobb that depicted him badly. Most baseball historians don’t take those books seriously, but still they are out there for a new generation to read.
Baseball and baseball players aren’t really very important in the scheme of things. What is important is a person’s reputation. It is really a shame when, through malicious intent, self-aggrandizement, or laziness journalists or pundits or attorneys general ruin someone’s reputation forever.
If you’d like to read the essay/speech by Leerhsen, it’s at
It’s December 11th, 2021 as I write this. We’re all trying to remember life before the pandemic — the first in our lifetime — and trying to get our heads around what seems to many of us to be a world that has turned… what is the word? Oh yes. Crazy.
To try to bring some context to today’s headlines, I thought I’d look back at this date 20 years ago. It was three months after the attacks of 9-11. We were still feeling unified, though the politicians were going back to their natural partisan ways. We wondered if Christmas shopping was safe. A lot of people weren’t traveling by air, but Richard Reid did, and tried to blow up his shoe.
Back then some people still thought China was a good citizen of the world, and they were welcomed to the World Trade Organization. Many people now see them differently.
In 2001 the acronym LGBTQ didn’t have a Q, and in fact it hardly had a T. The discussions about how many genders there are hadn’t made it into society yet, other than the stodgy old default answer of “two.” The only personal pronoun issue revolved around the Mrs./Miss/Ms question.
Also, 20 years ago, many people still felt like it was okay to download “free” music. Facebook was mostly only used by college students. You couldn’t get kicked off of Twitter for having an unpopular (according to Twitter management) opinion, because Twitter didn’t yet exist. Amazon was primarily an on-line book store.
You had to take a cab, because Uber was eight years away. You could, however, look up things like that on Wikipedia, which started in 2001. So did I-Tunes. AOL was still a big deal.
It’s hard to remember, but I think 20 years ago today a lot of people were feeling down, because of 9-11, and because of the hit our economy took in its aftermath, not to mention the military action in Afghanistan. Today we have the on-going pandemic to keep us emotionally and economically down. We also have a troubling erosion of freedom of speech that makes people afraid to speak up about some topics for fear of being, “canceled.”
It makes a person wonder if there will be a Facebook or Twitter 20 years from now. Maybe Amazon will grow so large that it explodes into white light.
It’s hard to imagine that societal change can continue at the pace it’s been moving. Maybe, 20 years from now, we’ll look back in disbelief at what is happening now, or remember these times as “the good old days.”
The past couple of years have provided us all with plenty of reasons to feel discouraged, dispirited, or even downright depressed. Much death and suffering has come as a result of the COVID pandemic, and much disruption and personal devastation has come as a result of the things government has done in an effort to fight the pandemic. I hadn’t seen any statistics on business closures, so I did a quick search. The Wall Street Journal reported an “extra” 200,000 business closures in the pandemic’s first year. That’s a lot of dreams gone up in smoke.
In these days, it seems that humor, tragedy, and parody become muddled into a confusion of reactions to the news and commentary we see. One of my favorite examples came when I saw a news report about a school opening up to students last year. The report showed, among other things, students participating in their band class. Two flute players were shown wearing masks, but with two inch by four inch sections cut out of the masks so they could play their instruments. Two things about that: 1. It is clearly absurd. 2. The reporter didn’t seem to notice the absurdity.
Another example, which isn’t funny, is the one or two or ten thousand times people who issued mask or “stay at home” edicts have been caught on film not staying at home or wearing masks. As I say, not funny, but emblematic of how things are.
This is kind of funny. As reported by journalist Jeffery Anderson, and reprinted in the Washington Examiner, a 2020 study in Denmark with 4,800 participants found that “1.8 percent of those in the mask group and 2.1 percent of those in the control group became infected with Covid-19 within a month, with this 0.3-point difference not being statistically significant.” And yet, we wear them.
That being said, I find it amusing to see a person, driving alone in their car, wearing a mask. In my opinion, if they want to do that, they should. And, who knows? It seems there is more that we don’t know than that we do know.
Another darkly funny article shared that euthanasia clinics in Germany require people wishing to commit assisted suicide to be vaccinated. I was glad to read that it wasn’t for the clinic customer’s protection, but for the staff’s safety. So, once the initial reaction passed, I guess it does make sense.
It will be interesting to read what history has to say about this time in our lives, once the dust and aerosol virus particles have settled. I’m open to the idea that there are some dark conspiracies at play, as many believe, but I’m also open to the likelihood that what we’re experiencing with all the rules and public pronouncements is the result of a lot of people of good will doing their best to deal with a difficult problem.
It seems like there is a lot of talk these days about censorship. At least there is on the media outlets who allow it to be talked about. One might say that in the marketplace of ideas the big-box stores of the media are throwing their weight around.
There’s been a lot of talk about the First Amendment and the protection of free speech, but the First Amendment only deals with restrictions Congress might impose. It’s always been the case that, say, newspapers can determine what letters to the editor they’ll print. Writers of letters have no grounds on which to demand their views be printed.
The media and social media giants have taken it upon themselves to determine what news and information we common folks can be exposed to. Sure, there are, and always have been, crackpots out there with crazy theories. There are also people, including bright, well-educated experts, who happen to have views that don’t line up with the accepted dogma on the l ct ns, C v d origins and treatment strategies, fgh n st n, and mm gr t n issues.
Rather than allowing all views to be heard and compared, views that don’t properly fit the official narrative are either removed or noted as being potentially false. In fact, perhaps I’ll go back over that last paragraph and take the vowels out of the words that might get me pegged as a fake news person. (See if you can solve the puzzles!)
Has it really come to that? Yes it has. And, since the views of the current administration tend to line up with the views of the big media and social media outlets, there is a real an absence of healthy disagreement on lots of issues.
It is a sad time. There are some rays of light, though. Some new or previously underutilized social media sites are growing. Some of what you might see on those sites may be troubling to you, but free speech often is.
I would like to get a divorce from several social media sites, but I value their ability to help me keep in touch with people who are far away, and to enjoy music and ideas from around the world — with the exception of certain ideas, of course.
Traditionally, the press, and by extension, social media, have acted as a counter to a strong government. That is not the case now as it was, for example, during the Viet Nam War, when the press led the charge against the government. Now the press and government are largely a mutual admiration society.
I’m hopeful that things will change for the better. It’s like addictions: they say rock bottom is the only place from which a positive change can happen, and in terms of freedom of speech and expression, if we aren’t at the bottom yet, we can certainly see it from here.
Boy, it’s great to get money from the government, isn’t it? It’s like finding a $20 bill in the pocket of a coat you haven’t worn for six months. Unexpected wealth! Or, is it really?
We can all parrot the aphorism that tells us there is no such thing as a free lunch, and, sadly, this is also the case with gifts from Uncle Sam. The elected officials happily vote to give you free money – but not theirs. The money they give away is ours, or at least those of us who pay income taxes, which is around half of us.
Even worse, the money they’re giving us is imaginary. It doesn’t exist. To be fair, over the past 20 years, much imaginary money has been printed under both parties’ administrations. It is done by the Federal Reserve, and sometimes called “quantitative easing.” The best analogy for it is Kool-Ade. If you mix up the packet of Kool-Ade as directed, it tastes pretty good. As the pitcher starts to be used up you can keep it full if you keep adding more water. When you do that, every sip has less actual Kool-Ade in it, just like every dollar The Fed prints is worth less and less. It is watered down.
This latest legislation, worth $1.9 trillion, is unfathomably large, and according to some analyses, has as much to do with income redistribution (socialism) as it does Covid19. Even if that’s incorrect, it’s hard to imagine, or should I say, it’s hard for ME to imagine, that it makes sense to borrow all that money, on top of the many trillions of debt we have already accumulated through various administrations, present and past. And to raise taxes to pay for it would mean lots of money not available for taxpayers to buy things, further slowing the economy.
For context, there is a children’s book called “How Many is a Million” written by David Schwartz and Stephen Kellogg, in which they estimate that the length of time it would take to count out loud from one to one-trillion is approximately 195,259 years. So, you could start counting while the delivering doctor or midwife is spanking you, and keep counting for 2,603 average lifetimes. A trillion is a big number.
I’m not an economist nor a politician so I’m sure there is much about all this that I don’t understand. I do know that if, and when, we get another stimulus check I’m going to spend it on things made in the USA, with the hope of growing jobs so that more people are working and paying taxes so that more people can share the burden of paying the interest and principal of the trillions of dollars we owe.
Language has enjoyed some interesting twists and turns in the past 25 years or so. Language is always changing, of course, and time is the judge of changes that will last. Between here and the future, however, are some linguistical speed-bumps we must traverse. I think that last sentence was one of them.
I know someone who is generally opposed to what is called obverse writing. WWW.FreeDictionary.com includes the following in one of the definitions of the word “obverse:”
“The counterpart of a proposition obtained by exchanging the affirmative for the negative quality of the whole proposition and then negating the predicate: The obverse of ‘every act is predictable’ is ‘no act is unpredictable.'”
That’s all very grammary, but here are some examples that drive her crazy: “He was not unhappy.” “The experiment was not unsuccessful.” “She didn’t dislike him.”
Personally, I find those examples to be fine, but she, to her credit, thinks that he was happy, the experiment was successful, and she likes him.
While she understands that a person can be neither happy nor unhappy at any given point in time, and an experiment can fail in some regards but succeed in others, and a person can be ambivalent about another person, she sees the overuse of obverse writing and speaking to be not unclear. See what I did there? It’s also, I’d say, a means of trying to appear more refined in language skills than one might actually be – like using the term “one.”
Here’s a word that exists which is along obverse lines: “Disambiguation.” The first (and only) time that word appeared to me is on www.wikipedia.com. If you look up Paul Revere, for example, Wikipedia wants to know if you mean the 1960s pop star, or the 1770s equestrian. They call the process of figuring that out “disambiguation.”
I think that to disambiguate something means to clarify it. But, I must admit that it’s fun to say “disambiguate,” as in, “Is that your Packer’s hat or mine?” “I don’t know. Let’s disambiguate it.”
A distant relative of that is the non-apology apology. Here’s an example: “I am very sorry for the misunderstanding you had of what I said.” Another: “Some things were said, and I’m sure we’ll both grow because of it.” And: “I can understand the pain you felt from what I said, due to your past experiences.” None of those phrases include “I was wrong.”
Saying you’re sorry without taking responsibility is pretty weak. To paraphrase Comedian Demitri Martin, the words ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I apologize’ mean the same thing, except in the condolences line at a funeral.
Speaking of clarity, the first definition of “obverse” involves the side facing you, and is the opposite of “reverse.” If you didn’t already know that, as I didn’t before I looked it up to disambiguate it, you’re not unwelcome.
I’ll bet mine are longer than yours. My feet, that is. They are size 12 ½, which is pretty big, and their width is EE or EEE, which is pretty wide. My feet are long because I am tall, and my feet are wide because I am too heavy, and my foot bones got squished a bit.
Of course, I know that my shoe size isn’t really very large. I remember hearing about a basketball player, back when I was in my teens, who had size 15 shoes. I couldn’t even comprehend it. I’m sure the players who are over seven feet tall have really long shoes. Also clowns. We can’t forget the clowns’ long shoes.
According to the American National Standards Institute’s blog, “The inch (ynce) was the length of 3 barleycorns, an amount that actually is remarkably close to its current length. They also used several foot measurements, with one being equal to 12 inches…” So, if your measuring needs aren’t very precise, you can say your foot is a foot long which, of course, it is, more or less.
I wonder if shoe sizes are the same as they were years ago. As a young, full-grown adult my shoe size was smaller than it is now. It’s like with women’s dress sizes: in 1965 a size 10 was considered the ideal. Now women are considered slender if they’re in the low single digits. Is there even a size zero? Yes, there is! And a size zero-zero. The changes in sizing are called “vanity sizing” to give people the illusion that they are not getting bigger as… as they get bigger.
Metric sizing is considered to be the most accurate. Measuring things in meters instead of feet and yards makes all sorts of math operations easier. Except for thirds. Feet and yards are very good for diving by three.
Anyway, instead of writing about my feet I should use them to propel myself along, instead of sitting. The ability to walk isn’t a given in life, and using that ability is, I guess, a means of showing gratitude for it.
So, I think I’ll go pace off a distance someplace, and get a somewhat accurate measure of how long it is. It will be easier than using cubits, which equal the distance from your elbow to the tip of your finger.
I’ve started blog posts almost daily, but it’s just not a good time for it.
My mind is on politics and government and the media, and since I don’t want this blog to be overtly political, I don’t want to keep writing about those things.
Even though it isn’t a humor blog per se, I like people to enjoy reading it and, perhaps, having a smile or two. These days, the things that are funny to me tend to be so ironically funny that they turn into political things. Humor is in the eye of the beholder, and what I might find ironically hilarious might be something that you take quite seriously, so that also is a problem.
Writing about travel adventures has become a challenge, since staying home is the status quo for most of us. Some of my business trips had some pretty funny stories come out of them, but it has been more than a year since I travelled for work.
I like writing about my garden (www.guardnguy@blogspot.com), but right now we’re in the middle of a below zero spell, and there’s a foot of snow on the garden. It is fun watching the birds at the bird feeder, but I’m not sure that’s worth more than a paragraph.
Don’t get me wrong: I really don’t have anything much to complain about. We’ve been able to see our family members from time to time, and I’m still able to work, so money isn’t a big issue. Nobody we know directly has gotten Covid or been banned from Twitter or Facebook. A neighbor helps us out with the snow on the driveway. All in all, things aren’t too bad. Yes, it would be nice to travel and go to the store without a mask, but perhaps those times will return.
So maybe this blog post isn’t really about anything. The show “Seinfeld” was said to be a program about nothing. That’s really not true, though. It was a show about adult children who were utterly self-centered and, as a result, funny. They couldn’t help themselves, and maybe I can’t either.
These days I’m transitioning from my day job to a retirement career as a writer. That might prove to be interesting, but who knows how much success I’ll have, if any? Maybe I can write a good blog post about rejections.
Between Covid and politics, I could say “we’re all in this together,” but if I did I’d have to punch myself in the face for saying the latest, most popular cliché, so I’ll just say that I look forward to resuming something like a normal life, and writing about it.
Winter in Wisconsin is always chilly. In fact, it can be down-right cold! I’ve lived here, or in Minnesota, all my life, so while it isn’t something a person ever gets completely used to, it doesn’t bother me much most of the time. I don’t ski or snowmobile, but I do snow-blow and shovel when it’s needed, so I get enough opportunity to enjoy the frosty air.
This winter, though, the weather hasn’t been the only thing that has been chilling. Fans of free speech feel a definite chill running down our spines as speech that runs contrary to the mainstream view has been depicted as dangerous, and efforts have been made to eliminate it.
To be clear, this isn’t necessarily a First Amendment issue of censorship, as that deals specifically with government efforts to restrain speech. This is being done by billionaires who run technology firms. Under the guise of stopping misinformation and halting violence, the media police have removed thousands of people from social media sites because they use certain words or phrases, or because they support certain opinions or causes.
I believe people should have the opportunity to decide for themselves what viewpoints have merit and which ones don’t. As to conspiracy theories, they’ve always been around, and they eventually either become proven as true, or they fade into oblivion. In my life, there are conspiracy theories that were obviously ridiculous but ultimately turned out to be real. Naming something a conspiracy theory can be nothing more than a means of marginalizing a valid point of view.
I did a small-town newspaper column for more than 20 years. I was asked not to do it anymore after submitting a column that was not politically correct. It was light-hearted and made some amusing jabs at some societal changes. I was told that it wouldn’t be published because some people might be upset. They next week the same newspaper published a cartoon depicting Trump supporters as Nazis – in a state that voted for Donald Trump two years before. Might not they have been upset?
As I see it, the squelching of opinions and information isn’t due to the truth or falsity of speech, or whether someone might find it upsetting. It is about striving for unity. Not peaceful coexistence type unity as a nation, but unity of thought.
Disagreement leads to violence, or so they say. Our country has been torn apart by strong opinions, they say. We must tone down the rhetoric, unless that rhetoric comes from those with the “correct” opinions. Ironically, some groups that seeks revolutionary change are allowed and encouraged to use strong language and incitement to violent protest, because it is felt that the ends justify the means.
In recent years it has become popular to compare political opponents’ actions to those of the Nazis. Ironically, the Nazis used suppression of speech to help gain total power in Germany. Russia, China, Cuba and other countries descended into communism in part by eliminating any speech that opposed them. Instead of closing social media accounts, they put people into “reeducation camps” (prisons) or killed them. Hundreds of millions of people were killed in order to facilitate the transition to communism. Friends and family members were encouraged to turn in people who had contrary opinions. No one dared to express anything but the party line. We aren’t all the way down that road yet, but some steps have been taken.
I never thought that I’d have to worry about posting something online that might get me put on some kind of list of deplorables. As an avowed coward who hates conflict, I mostly keep my views to myself at work and in social situations. I have a few “safe” people to talk politics with, for which I’m thankful.
I grew up in a household where differing opinions made dinner times interesting and educational. We could disagree with each other because we respected each other. And, the adults at our table knew history and current events, and didn’t rely on talking points to make their case. Maybe we could all enjoy those kinds of conversations again if we could somehow stop judging people who don’t think exactly as we do.
It feels like maybe I’m over-reacting to what’s been going on, what with people being “cancelled” and tweeters not being allowed to tweet. After all, closing someone’s social media account because of what they have to say isn’t exactly the same as burning books. Except that it is.
I’d like to say a few words on behalf of the year 2021.
I know you’ve all been angry at 2020 for the past nine months or so. I don’t blame you. Things have been pretty rough, what with Covid19, a circus of an election campaign, ending with a mess of an election, and an extended period of questioning of the results afterwards.
Nothing has been normal for most of 2020, and we all yearn for things to be the way they once were.
Here’s what 2021 wants you to know: On January 1st at midnight, nothing will change.
As much as all of us would like to see a clean slate, the troubles we’ve been dealing with will still be there. However you may feel about the election, nothing will have changed. Questions will remain, and we’ll still be wondering if there is another shoe to drop.
The Corona virus will still be with us on January first, along with all the anxiety, anger, resentment, and inconvenience it brings. Yes, the vaccine and improvements in treatment are helping, but no, things won’t change overnight.
People who are unemployed, or who are trying to keep a business running won’t have any magic solutions pop up on January first. The government is printing more money to send out, so that will be a help for many, but not a resolution to the problems they face.
The thing 2021 wants you to know is that 2020 was an innocent bystander in all that went on. The year isn’t to blame.
Here’s the other thing the new year wants you to know: the only changes you can be sure of happening on January 1, 2021 are the changes you make yourself. People make resolutions each New Year, and most people have a hard time keeping them.
But, maybe this coming year of 2021 is the time for you to dig deep to make the changes that will put you on a better trajectory, no matter what is going on in Washington, D.C. and no matter what new rules and restrictions are piled on.
You have the ability to become stronger, thinner, smarter, kinder, more honest, friendlier, more sober, more organized… you name it; you can do it. And, you can stick with those changes. So, that’s what 2021 wanted me to share with you.
People talk sometimes about some year’s Christmas being the best one. Actually, that phrase comes up a lot in commercials trying to talk us into buying something that will make Christmas great. I don’t think that’s usually how it works.
When I try to remember my best Christmas ever, my years as a little kid, with lots of toys under the tree, don’t rise to the top. The years when, as an adult, everyone was there on Christmas morning, were really good. Since then, my dad has died, and one brother-in-law is no longer around. I could say that the last Christmas with my dad was the best, but I didn’t know it until he was gone.
Since his death, and my mom’s passing 19 years later, that side of my extended family has fractured a bit, so gathering at Christmas isn’t likely to happen. Of course, I have my own family with daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren to make the day festive and exciting.
A person could say that every Christmas is the best Christmas ever, but that’s a cop-out. You could also say that the first Christmas was the best one ever, but to believers that’s a given.
Upon consideration, I think my best Christmas ever was the year our girls were more excited to see our reactions to what they had given us than they were about opening their own gifts. I remember their smiles and wide eyes as we pulled open the wrapping paper. I don’t recall what they gave me that year, other than the wonderful memory of seeing their joy from giving. As parents, that Christmas was a gift.
Age gives us a sense of perspective we can’t have as children or young adults. Being around the people we love to celebrate together is a great gift. I hope you’ll be able to have that experience, or something like it, this year. As the song says, “We need a little Christmas.”
My father died 30 years ago this week. I’ll spare you the details, but it came out of the blue, and he died at an age that was 20 years younger than his parents were when they passed away. Those of us who loved him felt cheated by his loss, but that’s not how life works. It’s up to us to adapt to unforeseen changes, no matter how difficult they might be.
Among the adjectives I’ve used to describe him are stoic, pragmatic, philosophical, methodical, visionary, principled, and a lover of routine. He was an optimist, a realist, a dreamer, and a life-long devil’s advocate. He was not socially adept, but was kind and friendly.
Not surprisingly, I can see someone assigning many of those attributes to me, but in a watered-down form.
He was my primary role model for how to be a father. I think I’ve done some things better than he, and some things not as well. That’s the way it is, though: parents are role models in what they do well and in what they don’t. Either way, we learn from them.
I’m finding out that there is also much we can learn from our children as they grow older. I’d like to think that my father’s three children provided him with new insights through the years.
I’m writing this because it has been 30 years, and that milestone, if you can call it that, shouldn’t go unrecognized. His life was too short, but it was well lived. He left our mother in good financial shape for her final years. He left three “interesting” children who had seven even more interesting grandchildren. All are, in one way or another, seekers of truth, as he was.
I’m grateful to have had him for my father, and while I haven’t lived up to the high bar he set, it has been good for me to continue to reach for it.
“Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Or so said Lord John Dalberg-Acton, an English historian of the 19th century. I think that is one of the best quotes in the history of quotes. Please don’t quote me on that.
Power comes in many forms, of course. There is the power of a large corporation, an influential labor organization, or a political party. Truly, though, power is owned and leveraged by humans, and humans are, by their nature, flawed. Some more than others.
People who have political power often pursue politics in the first place out of a desire to do good. Serving their constituencies is a selfless goal. Somehow, though, being in power seems to cause a fixation on staying in power and on getting more power. Part of that may be because of the perks of power, including fame and, to one extent or another, fortune.
It seems that millionaires are the most likely people to run for the highest office in our country, partly because running for office is very expensive. Those millionaires who have been engaged in private enterprise can point to their success as evidence that they are capable managers, though opponents say their wealth is proof of some vague sort of corruption because, well, just because.
Politicians who have worked at various jobs for taxpayers for their entire careers don’t often point to their wealth as a qualifying consideration. It is only by people looking into politicians’ lives that we find out how rich they are.
How a person can be a public servant and yet have numerous homes and great personal wealth – along with surprisingly wealthy relatives – is a question that probably deserves more serious investigation, but the news media generally isn’t interested.
Getting back to political power; having it is great, but losing it is very hard. Getting it back becomes an obsession for some. And it isn’t just the politicians themselves who hunger for that power, but it’s also the people who benefit by having “their” people in office.
The hundreds of millions – even billions of dollars spent to get or keep political power come from people who agree politically with the candidates they pay for, and who will benefit from their power or believe they will. Is it possible that protecting that investment with certain nefarious activities happens? Of course, it is possible. Likely, even. The phrase “the ends justify the means” is taken to heart by people who feel that immoral action is acceptable if the cause is just. That’s nonsense, of course, but it happens all the time.
Elements in our country have a long tradition of vote manipulation. Efforts have been made trying to keep some people from voting based on color and gender. On the flip side, efforts letting people vote more than once, even if they have moved away, gone to prison, or died have engendered the phrase, “vote early and often.” John F. Kennedy was a good president, and yet it is thought by many that he become president only because of fraudulent ballots “found” in Chicago on that election night.
In recent years, many states have made it easier to vote, with “day-of” registrations and such. The idea is to gain more citizen participation in the electoral process, though some think voting shouldn’t be limited to citizens.
This election time, ostensibly because of Covid risks, I understand that some states mailed ballots to lists of registered voters without purging dead and other no longer qualified people from the lists. Thousands of ballots, then, were submitted and counted without any proof that the ballot came from someone who was properly registered, or even if they were alive
And, in some cases, such as some Wisconsin precincts, it has been reported that the signatures for the ballots were separated from the ballots themselves on election night. This means that any recount was just recounting the same potentially fraudulent ballots.
In an era where computer hackers have stolen hundreds of millions of credit card numbers and social security numbers, is it really impossible that people voting on a computerized system could have their vote switched, not counted, or counted multiple times? With many billions of dollars in government money at stake for the winners, who would be surprised if some sort of hacking took place? How many countries around the world have hackers on staff who could do the job?
I’m no mathematician, nor am I a whiz at statistics, but people who are experts point to a number of anomalies in the vote count from this past election, all, coincidentally, happening in “battleground” states. It would be a good Pulitzer Prize opportunity for an investigative journalist to seriously explore these numbers, but it hasn’t happened yet.
There are many stories from many people who say they witnessed voter fraud, and it’s hard to ascribe them all to sour grapes. No matter which party is complaining now, if the election system is broken badly, it might be to the detriment of the other party next time.
These are unusual times, to be sure. If there was significant voting fraud and manipulation in this past election, an already cynical populace may decide that the system is too broken to fix. There have been many potential voters over the years who didn’t bother to vote because they felt their vote didn’t make a difference. If half the people in the country feel that way, I don’t know what happens after that. The powerful, I guess, will become more corrupt and more powerful. Absolutely.
We had a little thunder in Southern Wisconsin a couple of days ago. A little unusual for mid-November. There was also a lot of wind. The power went out for a while, but thanks to the electric utility folks, it was restored before too long.
That electrical storm reminded me of the electoral storm that’s going on these days. I don’t want to talk about who won or lost, or how much voter fraud there was or wasn’t. People who have much better information and insights to what has happened than I do have had and will have plenty to say about that.
What interests me is people’s motivations for voting as they did, and how they might feel about it now that the dust is just beginning to settle.
People who voted for the Libertarian candidate, Jo Jorgensen may have been looking forward to an alternative to President Trump, not knowing that their votes might have provided Vice President Biden with some state wins. Though maybe not.
Some people who voted for Vice President Biden may not have supported his policy positions, but liked his demeanor. His limited number of campaign appearances kept his persona true to the television commercials run on his behalf.
I would imagine that some Trump voters cast their votes in spite of his persona instead of because of it. That may have kept some from voting at all.
Both men have a history of saying and doing things that are hard to defend. But, none of us are perfect, and they were the choices with which we were presented. We were aided in evaluating those choices by conventional and social media. They even helped decide what information we should and shouldn’t have.
Now that the election is “over,” some of that information will become more widely known, I guess. The plans of the likely new president will be voiced to the joy of some and the trepidation of others.
I think there will be more people than usual who have second thoughts about who they voted for, who they didn’t vote for, or that they didn’t vote at all. I know some people who will be diametrically opposed to the new administration’s policies, but who had such a visceral dislike for President Trump that they thought anything would be better than another four years of him.
They and we will see. I hope the bugs in the election process are looked at carefully and resolved before the next election. I hope the populace doesn’t feel that their right to vote has been diluted by votes of those who are no longer with us, don’t live in the state where they voted, or, in the tradition of Illinois, voted early and often.
Landslide elections are a lot easier on everybody, I think. The loser feels bad, but at least we all accept what happened and move forward. Recent elections have been close, and some of us are close to spontaneously combusting.
Tying this together, we were out of power for a while because of the storms. One major political party will be out of power for a few years. Then we’ll have a chance to try it all again. We’ll see if we’ve learned anything.
In recent weeks the people who run some of the biggest and most influential social media web sites decided that some information, or “content” as they call it, is not for you. They are pretty sure that you don’t have the ability to judge for yourself if that content is valid or invalid, true or false.
Some of the banned news has to do with emails that were discovered. Other banned information concerns topics that these web sites find too inflammatory or contributing to conspiracy theories. And, it’s not just information that has been held back. People who have large audiences of followers have been summarily thrown off of platforms simply for discussing the taboo topics.
A person could look at who and what Youtube and Twitter have banned and say that there is a political motive behind it. I guess that depends what your politics are. What can be said with certainty is that you and I are being told, by this censorship, that we are not capable of making judgements about what we see or read.
The funny thing is that we are making these kinds of judgements every day. Whether it is advertisements for nutritional supplements that will magically cure everything from impotence to memory loss, or ads that suggest we buy lottery tickets (the chance of winning the Powerball lottery is one in 293 million), we are responsible for making up our own minds based on the information, the source of the information, and what the vendor of that information has to gain by us believing it.
Only the most naïve person would say that all the news on TV or in newspapers is accurate. Whether by intent or incompetence, a grain of salt is needed every day. Unfortunately, some people continue to talk about “news” that never happened as if it did. In fact, they do that on Twitter, Youtube, and Facebook every day.
A while back I reposted something on Facebook and received a message from them saying it was removed because the statistics used could be misleading. The source of the statistics was the Centers for Disease Control, but I guess Facebook knows best.
To be honest, newspaper and television editors choose not to share many news stories every day, either because they think it isn’t of interest, or because it doesn’t fit with their world view. It’s human nature for them to edit out things they don’t like. But, I think it is their job to fight that urge.
I think that the social media platforms that censor information shouldn’t. It would be a little patronizing, but perhaps useful, if they occasionally posted suggested guidelines for readers, suggesting strategies for determining what information we consume is legitimate.
One thing we know for sure is that these days, perhaps because of the impending election, nobody is getting all the news from Facebook, Youtube, or Twitter. If there is a bright side to these latest examples of social media censorship it is that we now know where they stand, and can be alerted to it going forward.
It seems that there are two extremes in how people look at the world. One extreme is that “everything happens for a reason.” The other is, “there is a reasonable explanation for everything.” Most of us fall somewhere between those two positions, and others just play video games, and don’t look at the world at all.
I, for one, take an interest in things having to do with words. Things that are probably a coincidence, but are pretty interesting. For example, Evian bottled water, spelled backwards, is “Naive.” Is that a corporate joke on people who are paying for something that is readily available for free?
I was fooling around with some currently popular words today and found that “coronavirus” can be re-written as “carnivorous.” That’s a little scary.
It turns out that “mask wearer” has one more letter than “war maker.” That doesn’t seem right.
Oddly enough, the word “contaminated” has the same letters as “no admittance.” That really does seem right.
The phrase “no more covid” gives us many possibilities, but my favorites are: “divorce moon,” “voiced moron,” and “moronic dove.” These phrases are clearly a sign. I have no idea what sign, but definitely a sign.
My dad always said (by which I mean at least once a week) it takes all kinds to make a world. I’m told the source of that comment was Miquel De Cervantes of “Man of LaMancha” fame.
Anyway, as we fritter away our lives looking at various forms of social media, it’s not hard to spot different types of people by what they say and how they present themselves.
One group could be called “reluctant relatives.” These are people who came to realize that if they wanted to have any idea what is going on in the lives of their families that they had better join Facebook, Instagram, and/or Twitter. They usually have only a few “friends,” who are mostly younger relations.
Next is a group you might name “look at me!” On Facebook, every picture is of them, and they assume that every reader has a great interest in everything they do.
“Don’t look at me!” people are a bit different. They often have no photograph of themselves on Facebook. Photos focus on their kids, friends, and pets. They don’t post much, but do “like” posts by their friends.
On LinkedIn, which is intended to be self-promotional, it is surprising to me the number of people who call themselves “experts.” I know a lot about some things, but I’d never call myself an expert. It makes me laugh to see photos of people who appear to be 25 years-old describing themselves as experts. But, that probably says more about me than about them.
A group I respect is the folks on YouTube who actually know how to do things, and make videos to show the rest of us. I call them the “helpers.” Some are pretty full of themselves, but most seem to really enjoy the idea of helping other people.
Then we have the “quoters.” They share meaningful quotations and words to live by. They, also, are hoping to help others. They may be trying to appear deeply philosophical, and now and then a quotation gets posted that makes me pause to reflect.
“Manipulators” are people who very much want the world of social media to respond to them. Their posts usually include the phrase “you probably won’t share this…” or words to that effect.
“Detractors” are the people who attack others with nasty invectives. I tend to “hide” or “unfriend” them. Different opinions are fine, but hurtful, disrespectful language isn’t. Many in that group are also “commenters.” Any and every post in any social media outlet swarms with people who make awful comments related to almost anything. They are very brave people when they are at their computer, and not face-to-face with the people they’re trashing.
Social media can be a friendly place, a place for aspirations, and a place for belonging. It can also be a harmful, damaging place of exclusion and ad hominem attacks. It can be a waste of time or time well spent. People invent careers for themselves while others fall prey to predatory schemes.
The thing is, we control what social media is to us. We can pick which platforms in which we’re active. We can pick, and un-pick friends and contacts. And — this is very important — if there’s something that offends us, we can just scroll right past it!
Social media, and the people who use it, are neither good nor bad. If anything, the harm that social media does is in limiting the time we spend interacting with each other as actual humans, face to face. But, with masks hiding half of our faces, I guess social media will have to do for a while.
“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s hard to tell when everyone is wearing a mask.”
“Oh… yeah, I guess it is. Well, did anything interesting happen?”
“I bumped into a lady’s cart pretty hard.”
“Oh dear! Was she angry?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I couldn’t tell. But her mask had a butterfly on it.”
“Didn’t I hear that the store was robbed last night?”
“Yes, it was. The police were hanging around today.”
“Do they have a description of the robber?”
“Yes. It was a person – probably a man – with a mask on, and a hat.”
“They aren’t going to find him, are they?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, take your mask off and get ready for lunch, George.”
“Um… I’m not George. I’m Charlie.”
“Oh dear! You aren’t George, are you? Well, you might as well stay for lunch anyway, as long as you’re here. You can keep the mask off, but stay six feet away. After all, I don’t even know you.”
Covid19 is really something. Not something good, of course, but really something! It is very contagious, doctors say, but affects people in different ways, or not at all. Unlike flu epidemics to which we’ve grown accustomed, this virus didn’t go away when spring came. Some experts are saying it will never go away.
I know two very smart, well-educated women. One has “sheltered in place” since the start of the Covid pandemic, and is very worried about her children interacting with other people, even within their extended family. The other woman sees Covid as an over-hyped threat being used to make the country comfortable with excessive government control, and to tilt the coming election in favor of the Democrat party.
Could they both be part right and/or part wrong? I think so. Neither are disease experts, but when it comes to opinions about the corona virus, a lot of experts don’t agree either.
Dr. Robert Redfield, the head of the CDC says ten times more people test positive for Covid19 antibodies than currently have the active disease. So, in essence, they’ve had the disease but didn’t know it. He speculates, however, that 92% to 95% of people could still be vulnerable to getting the disease.
Professor Karl Friston, a world-renowned neuro-scientist, used his command of statistical health data analysis to conclude that perhaps 80% of people (in the United Kingdom) have some sort of previous immunity, based on the slow progression of the spread of the virus. It might be in the form of some other viral immunity in their systems that blocks Covid. He says that if that’s the case, those people cannot get Covid.
So, between just those two studies, we can see that somewhere between 20% and 95% of people will get this virus. There are plenty more studies with differing conclusions, by the way.
At the end of May, the Foundation for Research on Equal Opportunity found that, as of that time, 42% of Covid19 deaths had occurred in nursing homes or assisted-living facilities. That meant that 42% of the deaths came from 0.6% of the population. That is tragic, and terrible for the people who gave so much for us, only to be taken by a virus. Conversely, I guess that bodes well for 99.4% of us.
The epidemiological promised land of “herd immunity,” where, basically, the virus struggles to find new victims because so many people are immune (either from having had the disease or a vaccine) can be reached if 43% of the population is immune to the disease, according to an article in the journal “Science.”
Most others say that number is closer to 70%. Either way, we have a long way to go, unless Dr. Friston’s claim (above) that 80% of people can’t get the disease means we’ve reached herd immunity already.
The “23 and Me” DNA testing people did statistical studies of their subscribers and found that people with type O blood may be 9% to 18% less likely to get the disease. A study in China showed similar results. I wonder why? But, I’m glad that that’s my type.
Face masks are another area of contention. At one point the CDC said they won’t work for this virus, but now they say they do. A quick look at several studies seems to generally conclude that masks don’t prevent all virus particles from spreading, but that they do help the spread a little bit.
Interestingly, the definition of “close contact” is to be within six feet of someone for more than five minutes. It seems that a trip to a grocery store could be done without violating that rule. But, not wearing a mask has become the 2020 version of a scarlet letter.
If we get right down to it, every time we flatten the curve we also lengthen the curve. Nobody (who knew what they were talking about) ever said that social distancing, masks, etc. would end the pandemic. The reasoning for all of that was to slow it down, so emergency rooms and ICUs would have room for all of the Covid19 patients, a need that is necessitated by the considerably longer average ICU stay for Covid patients.
So far hospitals have generally been able to handle the case load, so maybe exposing more people (who might get sick but have zero symptoms) will speed us to herd immunity? But then again, I got a C+ in biology class in high school, so don’t listen to my ideas on the subject.
Oh, and there’s this: If you do a search for “collateral damage of Covid19,” here are some of the things you’ll see:
“Seniors are becoming COVID-19 collateral damage. They’re dying because of it, not of it.” -USA Today
“Eye of the Storm: Vision Problems Part of COVID-19’s Collateral Damage.”-US News and World Report
“The unintended consequences of COVID are far greater, in children, than the disease itself. The way we are trying to prevent this is causing more harm than the disease.” -Shamez Ladhani, MRCPCH, PhD, chair of the British Paediatric Surveillance Unit (BPSU), Royal College of Paediatrics and Child Health, London, UK.
“Collateral Damage of Covid-19: More Than 200 International Cancer Trials Suspended.” -Forbes
And, there are many dozens of other articles pointing out damage done to mental health, marriages, children’s socialization, and many more things.
The bottom line? I don’t know. You don’t know. Experts don’t agree who knows and who doesn’t. And the political entities that are using the hardship of Covid19 to bolster their ambitions to gain power don’t help at all.
I guess the key point is that it may be a mistake for any of us to be too sure of ourselves when it comes to this awful little bug. There has already been a lot of backtracking by experts, not to mention the rest of us non-experts.
Even if we think someone is behaving foolishly as they try to cope with this Covid world, keep in mind that we’re all trying to make sense of it and do the right thing. We probably won’t know what that right thing is until much later, but in the meantime, let’s try to be nice.
It’s 5:27 in the afternoon on a Wednesday. I haven’t heard or seen any news since around noon. It’s nice, really, not knowing what has gone on in the world, our country, my state, or even my neighborhood. There has been plenty of craziness to go around lately, and to think it has magically stopped while I was working is just silly.
I think I’ll just make up some news that might have happened, and if I have the courage to open my eyes later this evening I can see if I was right about any of it.
(WARNING: The following is meant to be amusing. If you have no sense of humor, please hit the “back” button.)
Since most masks aren’t very effective in filtering tiny virus particles, citizens are being asked to wear two masks at a time.
Temperatures in the 90s have turned some paper masks back into paper pulp. A solution is being sought.
A commission has been set up to plan a blue-ribbon panel to appoint a public-private partnership committee on how to have police protection without having police. No police will be involved in this process.
Milwaukee man explains for the hundredth time that saying black lives matter doesn’t suggest that other lives don’t matter. He can no longer Tweet or post that assertion on Facebook, as it is seen as “hate-speech.”
Noxious cloud of automobile exhaust from the thousands waiting to get drive-up Covid19 tests drifts into area nursing home vents causing the carbon monoxide poisoning of three.
Increasing violence and shootings across America are ignored unless police or historical figures are involved.
White man driving drunk is pulled over after somehow driving sideways over a fire hydrant. Says he now understands the unfairness of black men being pulled over for no reason. Black men disagree.
Judge decrees that anyone saying “we’re all in this together” may be slapped in the face after July 15th, since that the phrase will have run its course to the point of exhaustion by then.
There you have it. My best guesses on what I’ll see and hear once my mini-news blackout has ended. Who knows? Maybe some of my made-up news stories are close to reality. Not too close, though. At least six feet.
With the decline of daily newspapers and news magazines, the trend towards limiting how much news we are exposed to continues. The 24-hour news channels pack in a lot of news, but it seems like they only re-package the same dozen or so news stories of the day.
News compiling sites like The Drudge Report cover those same stories, but also come up with some news that the other media doesn’t cover.
Thanks to the democratization of the new media, plenty of news that doesn’t hit the mainstream media is available to people who look for it. Some of it is legitimate, and some probably isn’t, but at times, the same thing can be said about the traditional news sources we use.
Trust in the media is not very high these days. Different sources are said to have strong biases which, in traditional journalism, is unacceptable. Opinion has always surfaced in news stories, if for no other reason than our personal feelings about things emerge subconsciously. There seems to be a trend towards activist journalism (which isn’t really journalism, in my opinion) that starts out with an agenda.
Years ago, a news insider told me that, generally speaking, the major network morning news programs decide which news items to report on by listening to the first feed of NPR’s Morning Edition. There are worse sources to use, since NPR mostly values good journalism in reporting, if not in tone of voice. But, if we’re only going to hear about a dozen news stories in a day (that’s strictly a guess on my part) should one news outfit ultimately decide what those stories should be?
A wise person in the news business once said to me that a particular news organization wasn’t biased on how they reported, but showed bias in WHAT they reported on. In other words, which 12 stories are they picking for us to learn about?
Of course, the number of stories that AREN’T covered says as much about the intent of the journalists as those that they DO cover. And, they also decide when an important story is no longer important, and falls from the list of 12.
There are some easy examples to make that point. For many months the networks and 24-hour news channels breathlessly reported on the Special Counsel, the impeachment hearings, and Ukraine. Not much was heard about Korea or trade negotiations with China, which had been big stories a month before. Ukraine has disappeared from the news now, even though big-time politicians may still need to provide some answers. China trade stories ended with Covid19. Covid19 virtually ended with the Minneapolis police riots. North Korea is desperate for attention to the point they blew up a “friendship” center with South Korea.
Here are some questions for you, assuming you’re a typical news consumer: How are things in Egypt? What are the Middle Eastern migrants in Europe doing? What’s going on with Brexit in England? Is India having a border war with China? How is Taiwan dealing with China these days? Have you heard from anyone in Ukraine or Russia? Is Venezuela still there? Have their been any gang killings in our big cities? Are people being killed in drunk driving accidents? How are our banks doing? How about Ebola in Africa?
These topics are just a few of the important things that we mostly don’t hear about these days. That’s not to say that what is reported on isn’t important, but with fewer news topics covered we are, by definition, less informed.
My call to action? If you’re satisfied with the news you’re getting, that’s fine. If you seek out other sources like the BBC, or some politically incorrect or conspiracy sites, go for it. Even though mainstream news isn’t held to as high a standard as it once was, those organizations do have editors and publishers who generally make an effort to be fair. Bob’s Blog and Cat Podcast doesn’t, so keep in mind that some salt grains may be necessary.
Years ago I saw a report that said the most common reason freshmen in college gave for pursuing a career in journalism was that they wanted to change the world. That’s really nice, but I’ve always thought that journalists should report on the world, and that if it needs changing, that’s something we all can do if the information we get from fair news reports leads us to that conclusion.
So, I’m watching television, and something comes on that I just can’t get my head around. Of course, that’s nothing new these days, but I wasn’t watching the news.
What I saw looked like an absurdist parody of modern life. Again, remember please that I wasn’t watching the news.
Before me, in high definition, was an advertisement for a heating pad. What, you may ask, is so difficult to comprehend about a commercial for a heating pad? Good question. This particular heating pad is weighted in order to be more comfortable and to give the user the same sense of comfort and security that weighted blankets provide.
That’s the point at which the commercial got weird, or I hallucinated.
We see a woman lying on a bed with this new heating pad laying across her torso. Into the room comes a man wearing a lab coat, and holding a leaf blower. He points the leaf blower at the woman, and yet, the heating pad doesn’t blow off.
We then see a flashback scene with a non-weighted heating pad. Again, the leaf blower guy enters, points the blower at the person, and, wouldn’t you know it: the non-weighted heating pad blows off.
A few things: First, I can’t remember the last time somebody pointed a leaf blower at me in my house. Second, were so many people having their heating pads blown off by leaf blowers that American industry got busy and designed the new heavy heating pad?
I’m not currently in the market for a heating pad, but the next time I am I may well purchase the heavy one shown in the commercial. It won’t be because I fear a leaf blower attack or a rogue wind tunnel breaking into my house. Actually, I think a heavier heating pad might feel nice.
Meanwhile, I won’t be able to use my leaf blower without thinking about heating pads. God only knows what kind of mayhem my string trimmer could unleash on my hair dryer!
There has been a lot of civil disobedience lately. There has been a lot of un-civil disobedience too, complete with death and violence and burning and stealing. Definitely not civil. Protests and riots aren’t new, and today I was remembering some early experiences involving such things.
I grew up less than a block away from a college campus in Wisconsin. For the most part it was a good thing, providing me access to the college library and various music events. It also gave me early exposure to political goings-on of the late 1960s and beyond.
College is not necessarily the best time in life for people to express their rational selves. First, by isolating hundreds of people who are the same age in dormitories and Greek houses, we deprive them of any mature role models. Then we tell them they are adults, when in reality brain science refutes that, indicating that brain development hasn’t really settled in until around age 22.
So, we have a lot of very large children who are mostly unsupervised and who are very good at procuring drugs and alcohol, though in the later part of the era of which I speak the drinking age was 18, so most students could drink legally. Next, we put students in classrooms where some professors tell them that the following things are wrong: their parents, their government, the nation’s history, and capitalism. They are also told they have the power to change things.
Then, if you introduce the occasional anarchist, black power advocate, or militant feminist into the mix it makes things even more interesting. Finally, add a very unpopular war, (as opposed, I guess, to a popular war, which is a concept I’m having a hard time with) and start drafting people into the military to fight that war. The frosting on this cake of social disaster? Assassinate three people: a young, liberal president, his younger and more liberal (and inspirational) brother, and then the single most important voice for racial equality.
It is no wonder that colleges became places of anger and angst. Sure, people still went to football games and joined fraternities and sororities, though not in the same numbers as before, as politically active students found such things juvenile. Protests popped up here and there. Speeches were given, chants were chanted. Signs appeared. Some protests were over racism, some over the war, and some against capitalism. Mostly, those protests were civil.
One day, amidst all of this, some students decided that they had had enough of people (townies) driving too fast on the main artery that went through campus, despite “reduce speed” signs. So, some of the students protested by “borrowing” some picks and shovels left behind by a street crew and digging up that street. Their efforts were ineffective, of course, but they were joined by hundreds of other protesters who blocked the street. There was no time for signs. It was as spontaneous as protests can be. Truly, it seemed more like a venting of accumulated anger and frustration over many things, and not just fast cars.
I was able to look from my back yard to see police with shields walking behind giant snowplow blades as the police took back the street. I don’t think anyone was hurt, and it was largely a social event, except for the rocks that were thrown that pinged off the snowplow blades.
Another time, after I had actually enrolled in that college, 96 out of the 100 black students on campus took over the college president’s office with a sit-in. I think they were demanding an Afro-American student union, or something like that. They also threw typewriters and other equipment out of the second-floor windows. Their actions resulted in each of them being expelled. People I knew said that the NAACP reps on campus strong-armed many of the students into participating, but I’d have no way of verifying that. I knew one of the students from a class we were in, and it was hard for me to imagine that he would willingly participate in such a thing.
The SDS (Students for a Democratic Society) who were mostly socialists, or worse, promoted numerous rallies on campus. Several of the SDSers were involved in student government, and procured funding from student fees. It was a politically active time. In fact, in Southern Wisconsin the University of Wisconsin had frequent, sometimes violent protests, and anti-war activists even blew up a building, killing a worker.
But, as noted early on in this post, people of that age are prone to certain riotous behaviors. For example, one year a crowd of students destroyed a police car in my town because it was closing time on Saint Patrick’s Day, and they didn’t want to stop drinking. That wasn’t exactly a well thought-out political position. A few years prior to that someone from a crowd of afternoon St. Patty’s drinkers outside of a bar near the college hurled a beer bottle which smashed against the bus window next to my seat as I rode home from high school. So, it wasn’t always about politics or rights or anything of substance. Substances, yes.
Happily, none of the un-civil disobedience that happened during those years had much impact on my formal education or my pre-college or college life. It did help me see that groups with agendas can be very good at involving young people to further their goals. People of college age generally haven’t experienced enough life to challenge the precepts behind the sloganeering.
These days, though, protests are not just tolerated, but encouraged by universities and politicians. Some, though not as many, seem to tolerate the violence. It seems, from what I can gather, that the violence and damage start after the actual protestors – the people who care about the problem – have mostly withdrawn. Then the thugs, anarchists, arsonists, and thieves take over. At that point the positives of the protest activity – the expression of free speech and a desire to change things — are lost.
I think it is a mistake for apologists to claim that the violence, arson, and looting are “understandable” given frustrations in the community. I think it dissipates whatever persuasive capital the protests gained. And, sadly, it seems that the biggest victims in such riots are blameless members of that same community, many of whom support the substance of the protests.
It would be wonderful if, 50 years from now, people could look back at these times and remember how things used to be, and be thankful that protests really can be conducted without violence ensuing.
When I was a kid, my ultimate hero was The Lone Ranger. In the tradition of good guys who wear masks, some people weren’t sure if he was an outlaw or a hero, but we kids knew. Tonto knew also. As The Lone Ranger exited town, after having taken care of the outlaws, he jumped onto his beautiful horse and shouted “Hi-oh Silver, and away!” As the 1812 Overture played, one of the town folk would pose this question: “Who was that masked man?”
Maybe you’ve found yourself saying those same words these days. More and more people are wearing masks, either to protect themselves, which they probably won’t, or to make others safer, which they probably will. In some places people without masks are subjected to a level of scorn formerly reserved for smokers in an elevator.
Here’s the thing about masks: people wearing them lose about 75% of their personality and identity. You can’t see a smile through a mask, or a smirk either. I, myself, am not a big smiler, but I make an effort when passing people on the street or in a store. Now, without the smile I don’t even bother to make eye contact, and I’m not the only one.
Faces provide us with all sorts of clues about how somebody feels, how they feel about us, and whether they could use some help, among hundreds of other things. With masks on, we might as well be robots.
There is the opportunity for humor, though. The other day I was at the counter at a convenience store paying, and a manager asked one of the clerks if he had sold any cocaine. Turns out, he actually said “propane,” but through the mask it didn’t sound like it.
I hope the masks go away sooner than later, because even though I’m an introvert, I do like people, and I like those small connections we all make when we make an effort to be pleasant to strangers, and that pleasantness is a lot easier to communicate without a mask.
I remember when I had the Hong Kong flu. It was 1968, and I was 15 years old. I had a really high fever and wasn’t sure where I was. Then, in a few days, I was fine. I was surprised to read, recently, that during the 1968-1969 flu season 100,000 people died in the United States from the Hong Kong flu.
What makes that surprising is that, despite all the illness and death from the flu in 1968-69, businesses weren’t closed, hospital ships weren’t sent to big cities, and students still went to school. I was young enough not to be very aware of big societal goings-on, but other than a lot of news stories about the Hong Kong flu, and, of course, the sorrow of those who lost loved ones, there wasn’t a lot of impact – at least compared to this year’s iteration of the flu.
This year authorities are canceling events scheduled for July and August, even though it’s only May. In 1968 – 1969 these are some of the things that happened: Boeing introduced the 747 Jumbo Jet, and the 374 people filling each flight didn’t seem to be thinking about a virus. The summer Olympics were held in Mexico. Around 400,000 people attended Woodstock, and did not observe social distancing. The only masks were worn by children on Halloween.
I’m honestly unsure of what was so different between the Corona virus and the Hong Kong flu. Both are said to be highly contagious. I’m sure elderly people were most impacted by the Hong Kong flu, just as they are by the Corona virus. There was almost no effort to keep people from getting the 1968-69 virus, and yet this year we’ve experienced a huge, economically devastating effort to slow down Corona.
Within the past month, my extended family lost someone unexpectedly, not from the virus, but from cancer. It’s awful to lose a loved one, and the thought of multiplying that pain by thousands and thousands is beyond awful. And yet, how many people will lose everything, how many families will fall apart, and how many people will just give up while the government decides when it’s “safe” for us to go back to work, back to the store, back to the stadiums?
I am an optimist by nature, and so far I’m winning the battle against pessimism, but perhaps you agree with me that optimism and realism seem to contradict each other these May days.
In some ways I hate to keep writing about the Corona virus, but in other ways it is such an historic time we’re in these days that it seems a shame NOT to write about it. I hope you feel the same way when it comes to reading about it.
Corona isn’t the first health crisis to confront humankind. During the middle ages the plague descended on Europe, via 12 boats arriving at the Sicilian port of Messina from their travel through The Black Sea. The ships were ordered out of the harbor once local officials noticed that most of the crew members were dead or dying. That lapse in social distancing at the docks eventually ended up with 20 million people — a third of Europe — dying. Think of two people you know. Either you, or one of them, died.
The “Black Death” as it was called, was highly contagious, not unlike COVID19. It spread through the air, from touching clothing, from rats, and much more. Unfortunately, cats had fallen into disfavor for their perceived association with evil, so the rat population had exploded. It is said that some people went to bed at night feeling perfectly healthy, and yet were dead by morning.
How did it end? Well, since rats lived on ships, sailors were at high risk for getting The Plague. And, since ships were traveling from place to place, they spread it as they did. The disease started to die out when authorities insisted that sailors stay on ships for 40 days when they got to a port. That’s where the term “quarantine” originated. (From the Italian quaranta giorni, literally, “space of forty days.”)
Our current health crisis is serious enough. That being said, in order to have a comparable cost in human life as The Plague inflicted, we’d have to experience more than 100 million deaths in our country. Even the worst-case scenarios for Corona don’t suggest that will happen. But, it will certainly be a candidate for the history books, as was the 1918 Spanish Flu epidemic.
What makes this pandemic really interesting is that a great majority of people won’t get the disease, and many who do get it won’t even know they have it. Others will experience a medical emergency, and some of those people will die. Irrespective of the above, the economic consequences of this pandemic are also devastating – except for people who are arbitrarily considered essential, and as such are still able to work and be paid.
This being the 2020 version of our modern times, we are hopeful for treatments that are 100% successful and a vaccine that is effective and risk-free. If those things are possible, they will allow us to put this episode behind us. The people we’ve lost, of course, are gone forever, and the people who have lost everything will be hard-pressed to gain back the ground they’ve lost.
So, I guess people will be writing, and reading about Corona for some time to come.
These days we’re being confronted with things that make us very uncomfortable, because we can’t understand them. Start with this: we have a new virus that is either fatal or without symptoms, depending on the person who gets it. People without symptoms can infect other people who may or may not die. Or have symptoms.
Now let’s add this: There is no cure for this virus, except that some people are cured with a combination of medicines including an anti-malarial drug called hydroxychloroquine. Tests show, however, that it doesn’t work, except in the tests that show it does. Some doctors pair it with an anti-AIDS drug, while today I learned of research that pairs it with the ingredient in Pepcid – an antacid.
We’re very enthusiastic about modern genetic medicine coming up with a vaccine for this virus in record time! But not anytime soon. Also, the virus is mutating, which is bad, but it’s mutating in ways that aren’t so bad, except maybe they are.
If we just stay indoors for a few more weeks the danger will be past, except that it will probably come back in the fall just in time for the election (let lawsuits begin!) and the Christmas shopping season. We will undoubtedly be told to avoid leaving our houses again, unless we live in Sweden, where they protected only the most vulnerable and let nature take its course with the rest, looking to develop what’s called herd immunity. That seems to have worked.
Fortunately, many people in our country have immunity from having had a mild or invisible case of the virus, except that some people with immunity seem to get it again. The good news is that we’re doing more testing than anyplace else in the world, but the bad news is that you can be tested on Monday and get exposed to the virus on Tuesday and even if you’ve built up an immunity to it you might get it again.
It makes us uncomfortable, this disease that provides more questions than answers, and sometimes provides opposite answers to the same questions. We like to know that there are reasons and answers for things, and we count on the smart people of the world to take care of things.
Science makes progress every day in understanding the world and its component parts. Some of that science reinforces what we knew, and some of it teaches us that we really didn’t understand it at all. That is an everyday occurrence these days, and thanks to an endless parade of experts and pundits, we’re likely to hear almost anything.
And, those pundits and commentators take what is already confusing and intentionally state it in ways that are misleading for political purposes. That doesn’t help.
Soon, I hope, we will come to the point that we know more than we don’t know, and that we can be well on the way to looking at this nasty virus in our rear-view mirror.
The Rector at my sister’s church in Georgia had some good observations to make regarding our life these days, and the changes faced by The Disciples the week after the first Easter. Here are some excerpts:
Life, as they knew it, was over. Their door was shut and locked. They did not want to be found. Life was over. Not for them, but it was for Jesus.
Oh, sure… the tomb was empty; but what could that possibly mean, except that somebody stole the body, for whatever reason? Mary said she saw him and talked to him this morning, bless her heart. No… life as they knew was over.
There is a lot going on around us right now, bouncing from “it’s the end of the world” to “it’s only the sniffles.” In between, there is this thing we are calling “The New Normal,” which, whatever it is, worries everybody.
It certainly worried the disciples. Their normal was gone forever. But they had a visitor. Despite their locked doors, they had a visitor, who began to speak to them of a new normal. Life, real Life, always brings a new normal, and it will always deliver it to you, even if it has to walk through walls.
A very interesting way of relating our current predicament to the Gospel for the Sunday after Easter. The sermon could well have included references to Doubting Thomas, and how he might have had his doubts about much that has happened in the past few months.
Jesus had the authority to send the disciples off to create their new normal, though they still wanted his leadership. Likewise, I think, we citizens will need to find our new normal. And, though I wouldn’t begin to compare our government to Jesus, most people will continue to look to the government for guidance.
New normals happen to one degree or another all the time. In my lifetime there have been many, including the first and subsequent energy crises (which changed how much and what we would drive), the gradual increase in child abductions and molestations (which changed how much freedom we felt we could give our children), the ubiquitous personal computers and phones (which have both enriched and, arguably, damaged our relationships), and September 11th (which made us afraid).
Sometime anticipated new normals don’t really happen. The Y2K crisis didn’t destroy the economy. The Ice Age that Newsweek predicted in 1975 didn’t happen. The Population Bomb and Famine 1975 were books that preached that the end was near. Those predictions didn’t pan out. The Swine Flu, SARS, The Bird Flu, Mad Cow Disease, E-Coli, and Ebola made lots of headlines, and affected many people, but not enough to create a new normal. And, there have been hundreds of end-of-the-world predictions, most recently, I think, in 2012.
Yet, we will probably see a new normal emerge from COVID-19. It won’t be like the new normal the disciples faced, which was fraught with danger and difficulties. It may, instead, quicken the pace of some changes that were happening, like grocery pick-up and delivery, more people working from home, fewer in-person meetings… It’s funny, but in terms of how we have actually been talking directly with people, social distancing didn’t change things that much. On-line versus in-person, text versus phone call, Facebook versus having a book club… Perhaps that will continue, or maybe people will realize how much they’ve missed personal, face-to-face interaction.
If we can keep our wits about us, it might be fun to see what’s going to come next.
In the Midwest it is expected that an upcoming blizzard will result in grocery stores running low on bread and milk. Not running out. Running low. We know that the worst storm isn’t likely to keep us home-bound for more than a couple of days, so we stock up for that amount of time.
None of us has experience with pandemics, so our response as a society was, and continues to be improvised. As a result, before the cleaning supplies disappeared or any food was in short supply, the one item that disappeared was… wait for it… toilet paper. Not only toilet paper, but other paper products that could conceivably work as toilet paper. I’m sure plumbers have been busy dealing with paper towel clogs.
Obviously, this viral pandemic is nothing to make light of as some suffer and others pass away as a result of it. It is interesting, though, to see how the great majority of us who are left to our own devices in our homes react to the challenge.
Now, I understand that running out of toilet paper would be a bad thing. Really, I do. But, how little toilet paper did people have in their homes when this began, and how long did they think it would have to last? As I see it, people poop at about the same rate all the time. With the exception of an intestinal bug, pandemics don’t cause people to poop more. Granted, a lot of people can only poop at home now, so I guess a slight increase in home supply was needed.
I feel for the people in the paper goods industry. In the long run, the amount of toilet paper used per person per day won’t have changed. So, this spike in usage will be mirrored by a drop in demand later on. They’ll make the same amount of money overall after working their butts off trying to keep up with the pandemic demand.
Meanwhile, supplies of milk are so large that farmers are dumping some of it. Do people not drink milk at home? I know schools go through a lot of milk, but don’t those children still exist?
It will be interesting to see how this all turns out. We’re all hoping that the virus goes away, though it might take a while. When it does, it’s uncertain when people will be able to go back to work. In the mean time we’re being given thousands of our dollars back, and who knows if we’ll buy milk or toilet paper or lottery tickets with that money.
I, for one, remain hopeful that someday there will again come a time when toilet paper is available, people are again drinking milk, and we can all poop without fear.
Finger-pointing is a very popular sport these days. Granted, only one finger gets exercise, unless there is a digital response to the finger point using the middle finger. Then two get a workout.
In Wisconsin we had the ill fortune to have our spring election during the pandemic. Calm and thoughtful minds might have dealt with the situation, OR, two parties not wanting to give the other an advantage could duke it out. Guess what happened?
With split governance in the state, some wanted to delay the election, some wanted a mail-in only election, and some wanted to hold the election as scheduled. Honestly, I don’t know which party would gain an advantage from any of those outcomes, though I have my suspicions.
The governor, on the day before the election, postponed it. I think perhaps he thought that would be too late for a court challenge, but it wasn’t. The Wisconsin Supreme Court and the U.S. Supreme Court ruled against him.
The next day, a Facebook poster in the state said, paraphrasing, if one person dies because of voting in person, the Republicans will have blood on their hands.
Now, that’s a fair statement unless we consider the other entities that have had the governor’s blessings to stay open throughout the pandemic starting with liquor stores, office supplies stores, insurance offices, and hardware stores… like Menards and Home Depot. If people die from COVID-19 having been to those places is their blood on the governor’s hands?
A friend who voted yesterday said she brought in her own pen (though voters were asked to use the polling place pen and take it home with them) and touched nothing else. There were plastic shields to protect the poll workers.
And 1.3 million people in the state requested mail-in ballots. At my house we voted early at the town clerk’s office as she sprayed Lysol cleaner everywhere before we were even out the door.
These challenging days bring out the best in many people and the worst in some. The words of former Obama chief of staff and Chicago mayor Rahm Emanuel that a serious crisis shouldn’t be wasted tells the story of politicians using terrible circumstances to gain political leverage. They may feel that the ends justify the means, but if the means are wrong, they’re wrong.
A new term has emerged during this time of pandemic. Social distancing. Keeping our distance from other people to avoid getting what they might have. The magic distance is said to be six feet, but a sneeze can travel 12 feet, so draw your own conclusions.
Facebook, which is always a source for poignant observations (I mean that both literally and sarcastically) included a post from someone celebrating that the introverts of the world are finally getting their way. I guess there’s some truth to that. Even more to the point, though, is that agoraphobics are the ones who are right, for a change. We all need to be fearful of the marketplace.
It is becoming clearer, during this fourth month of the outbreak, that keeping social distance is a really good idea. But it is difficult to be separated from friends and family – especially the little kids and elderly in our lives. The little ones don’t understand, and the old ones are at least unconsciously aware that the days, hours, and minutes are ticking by.
I’ve been thinking about how our current situation resembles what people in the military deal with during every deployment, though our enemy is invisible. How hard it must be to be away from family for long periods of time. And, how difficult for the families they leave behind.
This virus is so very odd. Some people get very sick and even die, while others have few or no symptoms. It feels like we’re in a surreal time, except that for many people it’s beyond real, if that’s possible.
We’ll have to see how things pan out, and whether enough people are keeping their distance to make a difference. People are working on vaccines, and some treatments seem to work well. There is reason for long-term optimism to balance our short-term trepidation.
I guess we just need to be optimistic by ourselves for the time being. Later we can be optimistic together.
Some people believe that everything happens for a reason. I can’t deny that there is truth in that, but I’m not sure that’s what happens. What I do know is that how we react to things that happen can make a big difference in the impact different occurrences have on us.
I remember reading, as a kid, about another kid who broke his right arm just before baseball season. He could have gotten mad and sat around for the summer. Instead, he shot baskets and dribbled his basketball left-handed every day. By the time basketball season came around he was the only player on his team who could shoot and dribble with either hand.
So, I’m wondering if this Corona virus happened for a reason, or if we’re being given a huge opportunity to respond to our situation in ways that could be life-changing.
Maybe it’s the little things. Who among us hasn’t stepped up their game in the hand-washing department? After this pandemic, maybe we’ll get fewer colds in the future because we’re practicing better overall hygiene?
Perhaps we’re in a position now to appreciate our homes as safe havens instead of going anywhere and everywhere all the time, stopping in to sleep. And how about those little projects around the house that are so easy to overlook when you’re rarely there? Organizing a cupboard or dusting the blades of the ceiling fan can be strangely rewarding.
If you have other humans and/or pets to shelter in place with you, maybe investing some time and energy in your relationships with them will be a good use of your home-bound time. And, in this day and age you can keep in touch with people all over the world through email, social media, and services like Skype which let you see and hear your friends and relations. It would hurt to reach out to people you may not know that well who may be alone and worried. A plain-old phone call to an elderly neighbor, for example, is likely to be appreciated and could potentially be life-saving.
Maybe things happen for a reason and maybe they don’t. I don’t know. But maybe you can take some of this excess of time at home to improve your house, your friendships, and you as this crisis ends and our lives go on.
A lot of electronics nomenclature makes a lot of sense. The original corded “mouse” really did look like a mouse. Wireless mice (mouses?) not so much. Folders, workbooks and such made the trip from paper to electricity without missing a beat.
Icons, where we happily click, are named after religious images. Twitter is named for the birds, I guess, and Facebook was originally a way to put faces with names on college campuses.
As the social media age spread, there became times when a person, place, or thing did or said something that was disseminated to the far reaches of the earth. That sort of thing was, and is called, “going viral.”
And, now that we have a real virus with which to contend, we can really see the similarities. Mostly, once it has spread it can’t be retrieved. The other similarity is that with real viruses and social media viruses, there will always be another one coming around the corner.
If you think about it, going viral was a pretty good choice for naming the spread of a story. It surely beats “going bacterial” or “going fungal.”
So, here we are, all of us. Waiting for a shoe to drop, or not. Wondering about what may or may not be going on inside of us or our loved ones. It’s an odd feeling, but we’ve got plenty of company, even though we’re not allowed to be with them.
There will be much discussion about the politics of all this down the road, but for now I guess we just have to make the best of a bad situation and keep our chins up. And, in case you missed it, spring is here!
As you may have heard, we’re having a pandemic this year. It is a respiratory virus named COVID-19. It’s like the yearly influenza, but worse, or not as bad, depending on which expert is talking. I’ve heard that many people get this new virus and have no symptoms, or minor symptoms. Other people have severe congestion. Some, maybe 1% – especially old and/or immune compromised people – die.
I’ve read that the regular old flu, on the other hand, results in 50,000 or so deaths each year in the United States. Most are among the very young and very old. The new virus may result in ten times that many deaths, or more. Of those who have died so far, many were in nursing homes or had other medical issues.
For perspective, around 2.5 million Americans die each year. Forty-five percent of those people die from heart disease or cancer.
Heart disease and cancer aren’t spread from person to person, of course. They both have a lot to do with genetics and our lifestyle. So, the government doesn’t restrict our freedom of movement or the freedom to gather together as we see fit in an effort to prevent the spread of those diseases, because it would do no good.
However, since this new virus seems primarily to be spread by people in close proximity to one another, we’ve all been encouraged to avoid each other until further notice. And, apparently, we’re all planning to use a lot of toilet paper.
It is an interesting study in modern era psycho-sociology to see how people respond to this medical challenge. The 24-hour news channels flood us with experts who do their best to predict the unpredictable. I don’t doubt their credentials or their intent, but the predictions are quite varied, and it seems that the most extreme speculations get the most attention. I guess that’s always the case.
So, our lives become a watched pot, so to speak, as we wait for something like an “all clear!” from the authorities. We’ll have many conversations later about whether the state or federal governments have the power to tell us we can’t gather. That seems like a government power antithetical to what the founders of our country had in mind.
There will be much hardship, and there will be a lot of memories of this time – however long it turns out to be. We have some control over the tenor of those memories, just as people who lived through the Great Depression and World War II have good memories to accompany the bad ones.
Personally, spring is a fun time to work in the yard and garden, and I’m looking forward to doing just that. The absence of business trips will give me a chance to get caught up on the office organizing that has been needed for many months. I’ll miss going to restaurants, but then again this will provide an opportunity to lose a little weight.
There’s little doubt that this virus is very serious, and yet if we give it the worry it deserves, we’ll all go crazy, so maybe the best idea is to not watch too much news on TV or read too many blogs (except this one) on-line. Worry won’t change anything, really. Mind your p’s and q’s and keep your mind busy on other things, if you can. This too, as they say, will pass.
After 23 years of writing a column or blog post 50 or so weeks per year, I’ve been pretty quiet lately. Mostly it is because I don’t have an external deadline, and I don’t pay any attention to my own internal deadlines. I’d like to say that this is unusual in my life, but I don’t like to lie.
One of the reasons I’ve been less prolific is that so much of my attention has been sucked-up by the world of politics. Not government. Politics.
Politics has never been pretty. Politicians have become the poster children for the phrase, “The ends justify the means.” The thing is, that’s rarely true, but that truism serves as an excuse to gain or retain power using any means necessary, irrespective of morality. They lie, cheat, mislead, accuse, manipulate, and don’t hesitate to destroy lives if they think it will help them further their cause.
So, what does all this mean for us, who are, theoretically, the bosses of those elected officials?
I read once that the real purpose of attack ads in politics isn’t to keep you from voting for the vilified candidate. The reason for attack ads is to discourage you from being part of the process at all. Anytime I hear someone say, “I’m not voting. There isn’t a good choice among them,” I know that negative campaigning has found another victim.
The desired result is for us to believe that it doesn’t matter who wins and who loses.
I don’t agree that that’s true.
I looked up the word “debris” today, and Merriam Webster’s on-line dictionary defines it as, “the remains of something broken down or destroyed.” A house, for example, that is broken down may have a lot of value within it that can be rescued and preserved. A tornado can devastate a community, and yet the people there sift through the debris to find things of meaning to them.
You may view your own party as petty and vindictive, broken down into nothing but finger pointing and accusations. But, what is there within that debris that can guide us?
So much energy is spent in obstructing and seeking power that it’s easy to forget what these two sides believe in — and yes, I think they do have principles down in there somewhere.
One side believes in personal responsibility and is oriented towards our country. One side believes in government responsibility and is oriented towards global ideals. Both of these definitions are grossly simplified, of course, and yet even this basic level of each side’s beliefs isn’t often spoken about.
I say all this because, unlike what the manipulators would like us to believe, who we vote for does matter. The whole political show is like an enormous distraction to one-up each other, while down in the debris are real beliefs and agendas
By the way, another definition of the word “debris” is “An accumulation of fragments of rocks.” Maybe as we sift through the political rhetoric we can sift through those rocks. Perhaps we’ll find some gold.
What if a person or a group of people told a lie that was so outrageous that hearers of it would believe it to be true, because no serious person would ever make up such a thing? That, my friends, is the principle behind “The Big Lie.”
Coined by Adolph Hitler in his book “Mein Kampf,” The Big Lie strategy was embraced and perfected by Nazi propogandist Joseph Goebbels during World War II. The theory was that with constant repetition and supporting lies, The Big Lie being told would become accepted by the public as truth. After all, the theory went, who would have the nerve to make up such an outrageous lie?
Such tactics work only if the public is shielded from the actual truth – either by the government or a lazy or biased media. Uniformity of the message is essential if The Big Lie is to survive. To the average person, the truth needs to sound like a lie.
Fortunately for us, in our society people have a lot of freedom to seek the truth and share it with anyone interested in hearing it. Having heard two or more sides of a given issue, people can make up their own minds.
Unfortunately, some of the same people who promote Big Lies also villainize or ridicule those who express opposition to them. They become known as “conspiracy theorists.” In some cases, different units of government even restrict people’s ability to express their viewpoints. A province in Canada made it a crime to use an unwanted gender pronoun. New York has made use of the words “Illegal Alien” punishable by a big fine. People who question man-made climate change are called “dangerous deniers,” and are among the speakers not welcome on many college campuses. Some also say that immigrants will take over all the American jobs, or that speaking out as a conservative will cause an IRS audit.
To be honest, most conspiracy theories probably are just that: conspiracies. The moon landing never took place, the Holocaust didn’t happen, and a plane didn’t fly into the Pentagon on 9-11. These and many other such theories about conspiracies are vigorously defended by their proponents, but most people don’t take them very seriously.
Are there Big Lies being told these days? I’ll let you decide that on your own, and if the answer is yes, I’ll let you decide what those Big Lies are. Remember; Big Lies are repeated endlessly, are treated as the gospel truth, and those who express opposition to Big Lies are marginalized and ridiculed.
Here’s the thing that has changed in the past 20 years in our country: Now the owners of huge social media companies have decided that they should be the arbiters of what is or isn’t valid information or a valid point of view. So, if the mainstream media won’t report on certain things, and the primary sources on the internet won’t allow citizen reporting on them, because they are “dangerous” or “hate speech,” The Big Lie, or Lies, can go on unchallenged.
Depending upon where you stand, you might or might not think that one side or the other (or yet another) is proffering a Big Lie. Republicans, Democrats, Socialists, Libertarians… at any given point in time we might be mislead by any of those groups who have or seek power and/or those who have some control the media.
In my lifetime there have been many examples of political and government people misleading the public. The public relations people during the Viet Nam War seriously understated the bad news and overstated the good, for example. Promises are made on the economy and taxes and balanced budgets that, if not examples of The Big Lie, are at least flippantly said and poorly thought out.
My hope is that the current climate of criminalizing politics and destroying people’s reputations in order to obtain or retain power will give way to a more positive climate where different ideas can be discussed without one group or the other being referred to as Nazis.
If you think about it, it’s kind of funny that the most often used Big Lie is that a person or group of people are Nazi’s – the very people who invented The Big Lie. People who throw around the term “Nazi” are generally not very good historians seeing as how Nazis were socialists who prevented opponents from speaking out against them.
It would be nice to see politicians expressing disagreement on issues rather than hatred towards individuals, and working towards the good of the country instead of the good of one of the parties. The war of words these days can be kind-of entertaining, but it accomplishes nothing.
And it would be nice if journalists would gradually withdraw from the political arena and go back to providing unfiltered information to the public. Opinion programs, editorials, and opinion columns are great and necessary, but journalists should be held to a very high standard of fairness when it comes to reporting the news. In fact, any journalist should be extremely proud if they learn that people don’t know where they stand on an issue or a person.
Little “white” lies are said to be harmless, but Big Lies are not. I think people who tell Big Lies should be held accountable by those of us who, perhaps temporarily, buy into them. The very least we can expect from our leaders and media is some level of honesty.
I didn’t grow up in the Catholic church. As such, I wasn’t brought up thinking that priests, or even popes, were anything more than human beings. Yes, they were very knowledgeable humans with much to offer in terms of spirituality and wisdom, but they were just imperfect people, like me.
Over the years, attending Catholic church fairly regularly, I’ve taken an interest in the precepts and philosophy of The Church. I’m also aware of the various controversies in which the Catholic church is embroiled – particularly in the area of sexual abuse of parishioners by priests.
Attempts to hush many of these crimes have turned many people away from the church. Most, though, are still loyal to their faith and their church. Most priests, after all, are good, sincere people who have chosen a life of service to others.
The first priest I ever got to know was a really nice man who definitely didn’t take himself too seriously, as, for example, he sometimes vacuumed the church floor as people filed in on Sunday morning. He lived his faith and encouraged others to do the same.
The person who came in after the first priest retired was also nice, but probably more conventional. I didn’t like him as well at first, but over time really came to respect him. As happens, he was transferred to a different parish, and eventually retired due to heart problems and a father who needed care.
Fast forward. Priest number one has passed away. Priest number two, out of the blue, is accused of 100 counts of sexual assault of a minor. It didn’t fit the person I had come to know, but you know, you never know. Plenty of sociopaths seem like really nice people. That’s part of why they get away with the things they do. And yet, in my heart I couldn’t believe it.
Fast forward again. A year or more later, this priest is found not guilty. The accuser’s story didn’t hold up and was found to be factually impossible. The jury was only out for a couple of hours, indicating that they had little question.
So, everything turns out alright, right? Maybe, but not yet.
The other day I did a computer search for this priest. What I found was screen after screen of news of his arrest and upcoming trial. I didn’t see a thing about his acquittal. Not a thing. Not only did he have a year or more of his life taken from him, as he awaited trial, but the public humiliation that came from the charges against him still remain, because the press was not nearly as interested in telling the story of his innocence.
I don’t know the story of the accuser. Maybe he was led to believe that he had suppressed memories of the assaults. Maybe he wanted the attention. Maybe he was hoping to sue for big dollars. I don’t know. What I do know is that a good man has been raked over the coals for nothing.
Interestingly, I can’t tell you the name of the accuser, because, even though he is now an adult, most media sources didn’t give his name. Only that he now lives in California. The priest, though, was named and shamed. Meanwhile, the accuser’s reputation is intact.
Not only that, but the government (we) paid to pursue the accuser’s side in this “he said – he said” debate, while the priest needed to hire an attorney at what I imagine was a substantial cost. The accuser had nothing to lose.
A radio personality once (okay, make that many times) said that in modern society a person’s guilt or innocence is less important than the seriousness of the charge against him or her. That’s not the way it should be. The judicial process is important. The media may be effective in destroying people, but it is not a court. The court of public opinion is not a court. It is a mob.
The priest who was found to be innocent said that, as a Catholic priest, he was expected to forgive his accuser. He said, though, that he would never forget how that person had ruined his life. How could he forget?
A lot of people, in all levels of society, make a lot of careless charges about their opponents. It would be good if the accusers were held accountable, so as to stem the tide of dishonesty that, as it turns out, really hurts people. The truth is apparently less interesting to the media than accusations.
So, if the football coach decides to “go for it” on 4th down, is he “contra-puntal?” I guess no more than the quarterback who throws a “hail Mary” pass is “going for baroque.” Okay: I clearly don’t know what the fugue I’m doing here, so just hand it to the half-Bach so he can complete the score, while remaining composed.
I spent a day in New York City this week. I visit about once each year for meetings with clients and such. While rolling my wheeled briefcase down 5th Avenue I pondered over that song, and the idea of “making it.”
The song says that if you can make it in New York, you can make it anywhere. Perhaps “it” is a souffle, or a cute hand-sewn gingham jumper.
“Making it” is also a euphemism for successful non-verbal intercourse. And, it would make sense that one’s ability to do that in New York would transfer to other locations.
I think, though, the song is referring to “making it big,” as in becoming a star, getting wealthy as a business or criminal success, or being the early morning news reporter who stands overlooking a highway, nodding sincerely, and then saying, “That’s right John. There is a lot of traffic.”
My question is, what if I can’t make it there? And, if I can’t make it there could I maybe still make it someplace else? Or is not making it in New York the end of the line for me? I’ll await a ruling from the judges.
Living where I do amongst the farm fields of Wisconsin, I rarely see or hear emergency vehicles. When there is one, it’s concerning, because it may well involve someone we know. That’s not the case in a city of millions.
In the day I spent in Manhattan, I’ll bet I saw 25 or more police cars with lights and sirens, eight or nine fire engines blasting their sirens and horns, and five or more ambulances on the way to or from the scene of something bad happening.
Even with all that noise and commotion, it seems like nobody even notices. Another day, another accident/fire/heart attack/robbery. More of the same.
I was in what I would call the heart of the city, and while I believe that heart is dealing with a-fib and high blood pressure, I felt completely safe, except for the careening emergency vehicles. I only saw a few people sleeping in doorways, and unlike San Francisco, things were pretty clean. There was nothing awful to step in and nobody to step over.
Early in my career I attended a conference on 7th Avenue in New York, not far from Times’ Square. Those were the days before Mayor Giuliani’s crime crack-down. There were drugs and prostitutes to be had minutes from our hotel rooms. There were also muggers, of course, but most of them didn’t actually use their guns.
Thinking back to those Times’ Square professional women, and one in particular who asked me if I was “interested,” maybe I should have said yes. After all, then I could have made it anywhere!
Since being retired from my weekly newspaper column, I find that I continue to note things around me or in the news as good potential column fodder. Or mudder. But, without that weekly deadline those ideas have been relegated to the “one of these days” pile.
As it turns out, writing those columns each week also provided me with some self-therapy, as I worked through thoughts and ideas. Plus, when I do dumb things or when weird things happen to me, it’s so much more satisfying to share those stories.
So, here are a few things that have happened since I last posted.
A while back I went out to work in the garden, and as I often do, I took my phone out of my pocket and put it on the back of the car. Don’t get ahead of me. As you were just imagining, I forgot it was there and took some sort of trip to town. Upon returning home, I wondered where my phone was. Lo and behold, there it was, still on the back of the car. Thanks to good fortune and a somewhat grippy phone cover, it didn’t fall off. Disaster averted!
Fast forward a few weeks. I’m off to do some errands, but first I need to run up to my office. I put the phone on the roof of the car, right above my door so I’ll be sure to see it. Once ahead, you have jumped ahead of me, but this time your prediction is correct.
After returning home I looked everywhere for my phone and couldn’t find it. I didn’t remember having put it on the car roof, but it became evident that that’s just what I had done. I checked the roadside just off our driveway and I drove slowly, re-tracing my route, but to no avail.
Being a pre-pre-pre millennial, I went on-line and found that Verizon had a service wherein if your phone was looked into Google Mail when it was lost, Google would find it for you! Oh happy day!
My on-line search told me that my phone was on the shoulder of Interstate 39/90 about four miles from our house. It seemed obvious to me that someone had picked it up and, finding that the phone had a password, tossed it out the window. I mused to myself about how I would have tried to return the phone, but, well, society these days…
We looked for it along the roadside, as cars sped by at 70+ miles per hour. A fellow with a wrecker truck stopped to see if our car was disabled, and when I told him what had happened he helped us look for a while. Hmmm. Maybe society isn’t so far gone after all…
Well, we didn’t find it. So I went back on line and discovered that I had been paying a monthly phone insurance fee and, sparing you the details, THAT EVENING I had a replacement phone. That was a good thing, because our land-line phone had once again become unusable. That repair person was expected the next day, but at least we weren’t cut off from the world until then.
Let’s fast-forward again. We’re watching some football game Sunday afternoon when the land-line rings. It’s a neighbor from a mile away. She walks miles every day, and I always wave at her (while silently cursing her for making me feel like such a slug). She found a phone. She had tried to call the “if found please call…” number the previous several days, but all she got was static. But, she tried one last time and got through.
We drove over and picked it up, thanking her profusely. My belief in the deterioration of society was again shaken. She had found it the day I lost it while walking past our house. Basically, she had already picked it up before I knew it was missing.
What have we learned from this story? First, we’ve learned that Google’s phone finder service, at least in this case, was completely wrong. Second, we’ve learned never, never, never to put our phone on the car. Never! And, we’ve learned that the selfish jerk-face that took my phone and threw it out his car window didn’t exist, but that two nice, helpful people do.
The other story I have for you is less interesting. On my way to some business meetings in California I found myself in Chattanooga (and yes, I did sing the song to myself) as Atlanta was being stormed upon. As expected, once the Atlanta airport opened up again the plane I was supposed to have transferred to took off. Three hours later we arrived in Atlanta, just missing the flight I had switched to, which would have taken me back to Wisconsin.
So, after a few hours of sleep I went back to the airport and returned to Milwaukee, sans checked suitcase. It arrived the next day.
There were a lot of upset people on our plane in Chattanooga that night, but it was one of those things. Nobody was a fault. I was a little peeved with the loud people behind me who coughed repeatedly and with such force that I was expecting to feel a piece of lung hit the back of my neck, but that didn’t happen. I’m sure I caught something, though.
Other than wasting a day, there was no permanent damage done. I was able to cancel my meetings and hotel reservation in Los Angeles, and I’m sure the next time things will work out fine. If it isn’t safe to fly, it’s best not to fly. And, if the ground crews at an airport are at risk of being hit by lightning, it’s not worth the risk to have them out there working.
So, that’s my self-therapy for now. I hope you have avoided life’s speed bumps, and – I can’t stress this enough: don’t put your phone on the roof of your car.
There is nothing like a qualifying phrase to cancel out a strong statement. If someone says, “I believe in reparations…” or “I believe everyone should have healthcare…” or “I believe we should bring our troops home…” but then follow that statement with “but,” “however,” “unfortunately,” or any such word that precedes the qualification, they are probably making a U-turn.
For example, “People should be allowed to do what they want with their own property, unless it violates EPA, USDA, or DNR rules.” In other words, people can’t do what they want.
Most of the time these qualifications are reasonable and necessary. Sometimes they are doubletalk. Sometimes they are dangerous.
I was listening to a radio program the other day and heard someone say, “The First Amendment is very important to us all, but…” At that point I knew he was about to say something that demonstrated his view that the First Amendment isn’t really that important.
In this case he was talking about censorship by Facebook and Google and their ilk (Please note that this is the first time I’ve ever typed the word “ilk.”) Specifically, he thought somebody ought to stop “hate speech,” be it the tech companies, or maybe the government.
Wait. See if this sounds familiar: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
So, abridging (censoring) by the government of our freedom of speech or of the press is specifically forbidden by the constitution. Interesting.
Over the years the courts have determined that some speech isn’t okay, like urging people to kill the president, shouting fire in a crowded theater, etc. Or, as Steve Martin said, “yelling ‘theater’ in a crowded firehouse.” What’s at play these days is something called “Hate speech.”
Boy, that is difficult to define, isn’t it? It’s generally something that offends someone or hurts their feelings. Really, though, doesn’t the perception of something as being hateful depend very much on a person’s politics and point of view – just the things the founders wanted to protect?
Some comedians have commented in recent months on the restrictions that they are feeling in terms of making fun of groups of people – always a staple of stand-up comedians. Kevin Hart could host an awards show because of “offensive” comments he had made during his act. The organizers had a hard time finding somebody funny who hadn’t made such comments.
Remember the spate of jokes about polish people back in the day? Over the years, gender, marital status, ethnicity, height, weight, and almost any other demographic category you can think of has been used for humor. Was Don Rickles using hate speech when he made fun of people? Maybe, but people from those groups paid to see him make fun of them.
Now it seems that a joke involving a black man, a Jewish man, and a lesbian walking into a bar will probably end up as hate speech, no matter what the punch line is. And it isn’t only comedy. Facebook/YouTube, it is said, have lists of topics and trigger words in algorithms that result in warnings or suspensions for people who post those topics or words.
Describing Republicans as Nazis is okay so far, so there’s that. And Christians are pretty much fair game too. The Woke movement dictates that women making accusations must be believed, and not doing so is hate speech.
Personally, I’d much rather that it be called the “Awakened” movement, but I say that without any hate in my heart, but just because I think it sounds better.
Advocating violence or making false statements about someone are illegal already, in some cases, and people shouldn’t post that sort of thing anywhere. In the spirit of caveat emptor, people should seize the day (or carpe the diem, which means “grab the fish”) and seek verification of things they read on-line to make sure they are true. For instance, they should look up the real translations for “carpe diem” and “caveat emptor.” Finding the source documents is best, since sites like Snopes.com seem to have some preconceived notions about things, and don’t really seem to dig for the truth the way they could.
Finding sources that don’t seem to have an axe to grind is usually possible, but it may take some time. Don’t assume that major publications or media companies are neutral parties. Reporters and editors have always had a point of view, and I would observe that that has only increased in recent years.
In addition to that, the phrase “my truth” should terrify us all. My point of view: yes. My take on things: yes. My truth: I don’t think so.
So here we go. Before long (if not already) some very sincere people who think guns are horrible will be evaluating on-line content posted to Facebook or Twitter or YouTube by people who think guns are not only constitutionally protected, but necessary for protecting oneself. Neither position is necessarily right or wrong. What’s wrong is that it is extremely likely that only people on one side of that argument will be given the ability to censor that content.
Some people see President Trump as a hero, and some see him as a monster. Guess which point of view will be represented by the social media censors? There’s already talk of a content warning accompanying his Tweets. Why not just let people read them and draw their own conclusions?
Some people who support Black Lives Matter are offended by the phrases “Blue Lives Matter,” or “All Lives Matter.” I don’t blame them. The latter two phrases water down the point that the Black Lives Matter group is trying to make, that young black men, in particular, are sometimes not treated fairly by police, up to and including physical injury or death. But really, don’t all lives matter? Is it hate speech to say so?
I’m sure things will work out in the long run. There are already sites that claim to be like Twitter and YouTube, except they let people say whatever they want. People who are easily offended should resist those sites. Now, let me see… what was it your parents and teachers said to you when you were nine years-old? Oh, yes. I remember: “Don’t believe everything you read.”
I used to work in radio, and one day the station I worked at agreed, reluctantly, to put on some KKK members during a call-in discussion program. The result was that the Klansmen came across as being not only horrible people, but also kind of pathetic. Their freedom to speak exposed them for what they were. Any mystique the organization had was quickly destroyed.
Anybody – especially the government – who wants to protect you from speech that might offend you isn’t, in my opinion, doing you any favors. Remember way back at the beginning? “I believe in free speech, but, not if it offends some people.”
I recently re-posted an amusing photograph on Facebook. It was a picture of a stock trailer – one used to haul cows and pigs and sheep and such – and on the back was the following sign: “Caution: Floor covered with political promises.”
Not surprisingly a number of people “liked” that photo. Some of those folks are very liberal and some very conservative. So, I wondered; what is the glue that held those two different groups together. Well, like what’s on the floor of the stock trailer, it isn’t glue. It’s sticky, but not glue.
I think what resonated with people about that picture was that politics seems sometimes to be devoid of truth. Promises are easily made. We can keep our doctor. Healthcare will cost less. We’ll only be in combat for a short time. Disingenuosly made promises are the currency of a failing moral economy.
The thing is, we expect candidates to stretch the truth, at the very least, and outright lie. It’s like the phrase that tries to forgive boys for their bad behavior: “politicians will be politicians.”
President Carter struck me as someone who wanted to deliver what he promised, but “the system” prevented much of it. President Bush Senior made the mistake of promising no new taxes, and the inability to keep that promise cost him a second term.
President Trump is a political outcast because he really seems to make an effort to keep promises. Not only that, but he generally says what he means, even when it is far from politically correct. We just can’t have that kind of irresponsible activity taking place. Shooting from the hip, as he does, he also says things without thinking them through, which is not good. But when it comes to promises, he really does seem to try to keep them. But then, he really isn’t a politician.
Looking back on other presidents, many promises have been made, and while some of them may have been merely to get votes, I’m sure many were sincerely made. The realities of governing are a sobering contrast to the unbridled enthusiasm of campaigning.
What bugs me is the political promises that sound good, but which are impossible to keep. Ending the Federal debt, for example, would require that the government end entitlement programs and confiscate the income and property of the top 10% of the taxpayers in the country. I just made that up, but I bet it is close to correct. No sane human has the political will to execute such a plan.
Free healthcare for all can’t happen unless we’re all willing to accept a lower standard of services and care, as shown by the British and the Canadians. Free tuition for all college students, free housing for all, and any of a number of promises we hear are antithetical to how our society operates, fiscally untenable, not to mention grossly unconstitutional. All those promises sound really good to people who aren’t good at math or don’t care about the constitution.
The only way to change how political promises are made is for all of us to agree that we will only tolerate promises that are rational and viable, and that we’re really going to keep track. If a candidate promises to do such-and-such, and they don’t do it, we will vote them out.
If a presidential candidate makes a promise to do something that the president doesn’t have the power to do without legislative support, that candidate should get a mild shock. Not enough to do any permanent harm, but just enough to keep some grasp of reality in her or his promises.
If the truth be told, all of us make promises that we don’t keep. I’d like to think that most of my promises are sincerely made, but sometimes life or human weakness intervenes.
We should all – including our representatives — try to take our promises more seriously. I know I will. I promise.
A lot of what we see from day to day isn’t really very memorable. I guess if it were all breathtakingly exciting our heads would probably explode, which would also be exciting, but not in a good way.
Sometimes, though, things happen that stay with us for a while. Even a very long while. It can be because they are funny or sad or just very different from what we’ve experienced before.
I was in Irving, Texas a few weeks ago having a gourmet dinner at Wendy’s restaurant. The employees there seemed to be working very hard to serve the customers, but somehow things were not clicking. They filled some orders twice, while others remained unmade.
That, though, is not what this story is about. I was reading the paper while I ate, and suddenly I heard a commotion. A woman, around 35 years old, I’d guess, said very loudly, “Hey! You stepped on my foot!”
She was among the people waiting for their food. She was talking to a 70-ish man who said, “Well what the hell were you doing sneaking up behind me?”
Then it got ugly as both got louder and exchanged f-bombs. Cooler heads prevailed, and nothing more occurred. I’m sure he did step on her foot and I’m sure he didn’t mean to. I’m sure she wasn’t sneaking up behind him. She over-reacted and he didn’t apologize.
There was another factor that seemed to make this brief conflict more potent, at least to me, and that is that the man was a rural-looking white guy and the woman was an urban-looking black lady. I know that it’s irrelevant to the story, but somehow it didn’t seem irrelevant at the time.
So, here’s another thing that happened. We were at Perkin’s in Janesville, sitting in a booth. From behind me I felt warm breath on my neck, and small fingers tapping on my shoulder. A parent intervened, and that was that.
As it turned out, the little boy who was interested in interacting with me had Down’s Syndrome, and he and his brother were out with their parents and really behaving very well.
But that’s not the point of the story either. Behind me I heard one of the parents ask for the bill for their meal to which the waitress replied that it had been taken care of by a couple who had been sitting across from them.
What a kind thing that was to do. It brought a tear to our eyes.
So, those are the two things that happened and that were memorable. One showed people not at their best, but not knowing exactly how to undo things. The other showed people absolutely at their best, helping some young parents who have their hands full. It wasn’t the cost of the meal so much as it was a way to give a thumbs up for the effort that the mom and dad are putting forth.
Opportunities to be kind and decent come up all the time. Here’s hoping we sense them and take advantage of the chance to be our best.
We have two pretty big gardens – one for produce and the other for flowers. I enjoy changing the beds around and making new areas, as well as trying to use compost to improve the soil.
Every year it seems that there is no clear path to getting rid of the prior year’s debris, getting the various beds and rows and boxes set up, and getting things planted.
The problem is that each project depends on one or two other projects being done first, and each of them also needs something to be done. It’s a little like the game, “Jenga,” in which a neatly stacked tower of blocks stands while players remove the blocks carefully, one at a time. The player must take a block in the right order or the tower falls down.
The right order. It seems easy enough. But in reality, taking the right block or tilling the right garden bed or whatever it is you’re doing in the right order can be a challenge.
On the most basic level, many people would agree that having a baby is great, but that falling in love and getting married first is the right order. But then again, to get married it’s thought that people should have their financial houses in order first, and some think having a ho use to live in is important.
As a result you have two people working too much to be a good, loving couple, getting all their ducks in a row, only to realize they’re at the end of their reproductive years.
Should a person go to college in order to get a job, or should he or she get a job in order to go to college? One strategy costs thousands of dollars in loan interest, but most people choose the other.
I find that even a thorough cleaning of a house or office has Jenga issues. To clean room A, we put everything into room B. Then when it is time to clean room B, that stuff goes into the basement “to be gone through.” Later, some of it goes to the garage.
Some people are much better about organizing their activities – and their lives – than I am. They keep written lists of objectives for each day/week/month/year. So far, that’s a strategy I only aspire to. I generally get everything done, but not in the right order and not in an acceptable time frame.
Wouldn’t it be funny if someone was trying to get their Jenga game out of a game closet when suddenly, all the games avalanched on top of him? That reminds of the time I had to withdraw from a time management class because – wait for it – I didn’t have the time.
Well, it’s time for me to go weed one of the garden beds so I can transplant some plants from a different flower bed so I can plant some other plants there, after I weed it.
I went through a two-year, on-going seminar in leadership a bunch of years back. It was useful in many ways, though I was never cut out to be a leader, unless the people I’m leading want to be led. I lack the charisma and outgoing nature that leaders optimally have.
Through those seminars and through observing a working lifetime of people in leadership roles, I have come to realize that there are only a few attributes that make or break a good leader: Ethical behavior, honesty, fairness, and a sense of optimism.
When I think of those qualities as related to our national leaders, I find myself shaking my head slowly and saying, “Tsk, tsk.” Actually, nobody ever says that, but I’m trying to set-up an image here.
It’s funny, but I had never before thought about how misleading is leading wrongly. Whether by flat-out lying or sins of omission, many of our leaders have misrepresented things that they knew to have been different than what they depicted.
Adolph Hitler coined a term in his book, “Mein Kampf.” He called it “The Big Lie.” The concept of the big lie is that it be so outrageous that people imagine that nobody would ever tell a lie that big, and therefore it must be the truth.
The idea of Russian collusion now seems to have been a case of that strategy, though I guess the U.S. House of Representatives doesn’t yet see it that way. There are people who believe human-caused global warming is a big lie, though far more people don’t. It remains to be seen, over the next 100 to 1,000 years, which is the time-frame in which climate is traditionally evaluated.
Interestingly, people who deny that the Holocaust took place during World War II are also engaging in that big lie technique even though the Holocaust itself seems too outrageous to have happened.
Speaking of the Holocaust, here is one of two examples of leaders misleading: Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib recently said, paraphrasing, that her Palestinian forebears sacrificed their land in order to provide a home for Jews who were fleeing Europe after the Holocaust, and that it gave her a comforting feeling.
Some in the other party accused her of having said that the Holocaust gave her a comforting feeling. That’s not what she said. I don’t agree with most of what she does say, but she didn’t say the Holocaust was comforting.
Another example: President Trump is often accused of saying that Mexicans are rapists and murderers. What he actually said was that among the people coming over our border illegally were rapists and murderers, but that there were also good people doing so. So no; he did not say Mexicans as a group are rapists and murderers.
But to say that’s what he said is effective in painting him with the racist brush.
The point here is that people these days who see themselves as leaders don’t seem the least bit reluctant to mislead the people they’re leading. I’ve written many times about the evil that comes from the following phrase: The ends justify the means. If the means are unethical, they are unethical. Using such techniques to win the political argument isn’t right, especially if that victory is more for the politicians than for the people they claim to want to help.
Lord John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton (whose business cards were HUGE!) opined that “power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” He also said, “Great men are almost always bad men.” From what we’ve read about past presidents, I guess there is a ring of truth to that statement, but I’d like to think that it describes the occasional great person, and not all of them.
Maybe the tactic of misleading and half-truthing the public is excused by the more parochial, “If you want to make an omelet, you’ve got to break some eggs.”
Getting back to these present times, I’d observe that there are too many leaders interested in the good of their party more than they are in the good of the country. It may be true that they see them as one and the same, but the result of their antics is that more and more people are just cynical about politics and government and people in general.
I am not referring to leaders who tend to exaggerate, and/or say things that they think might be true. Certainly those statements shouldn’t be made and are undisciplined, but they are different than calculated falsehoods.
Politics is definitely hardball, and everybody who goes out for their political team knows how it works. For various reasons it seems that the hardball game of politics has descended into spitballs and sliding into second with cleats held high. The success or failure of ideas currently takes a back seat to accusation and insinuation.
The 2020 election season will surely not make things better any time soon. In the mean time I guess all we can do is try to figure out who is telling the truth and who isn’t. There are plenty of blogs that offer different versions of the current reality and some are useful while many others are way off either of the deep ends.
Our only true means of knowing what’s what is to seek out the original source documents or quotes, as in the last two examples. Make your own interpretation of what was written or spoken. And, the old adage of “consider the source” is also important to keep in mind. Someone who hates the president (and there are many) are not likely to miss an opportunity to spin his (often intemperate) words in a bad way. Likewise, some of the outspoken members new to Congress also say intemperate things, and there will always be someone waiting to pounce on them as well.
And, if you feel like any of our leaders are intentionally misleading us, keep that in mind on election day.
This, of course, is a fine thing to ask someone who is currently on-line reading blog posts. Although, blog posts are probably a better way to spend time than looking at cat videos, and they, in turn, are better than looking at dirty pictures.
I’ve come to realize that I’m wasting way too much time. Everybody gets 24 hours per day, yet some people seem to do a lot more with their hours than I do. I do things, but not enough of the things that are important.
Television has been the primary time-waster in my life. There is surely a place for relaxation and entertainment in our lives, and TV can help serve those roles. It can also be the morphine drip that accompanies hours of inactivity. Likewise, our phones and computers are excellent tools, but they can carve out huge chunks of our lives before we even know what hit us. Who hasn’t checked Facebook and returned to consciousness an hour later.
Beyond electronics, though, there are giant time wasters that society has put great value on. The list is different, I suppose, for everyone, but here are some of the things that I see as wastes of precious time.
1.Politics. The free and open exchange of ideas is never a waste of time, except now. Winning now seems to be the justification for any kind of behavior. The parties who run things only want to prevent their opponents from succeeding. Their speeches and committee hearings have become badly written comedies. They frequently say things that they know are untrue. They somehow think that the ends justify the means, but their “means” are a colossal waste of time. It’s all theatrics with no intent to serve the people they represent.
2.Sports. I enjoy playing some sports and watching others. I think games and exercise are inherently good. However, when I see the amount of time and energy and money that are wasted on the subculture of sport, I shake my head.
Watching a football game is fun. Listening to hour after hour of people talking about a football game that hasn’t happened yet, making detailed analysis of plays that may or may not take place, well, that strikes me as a waste of time. Likewise, the hours and days spent talking about the game after it has happened seems not to have any value.
3.Being Angry or worried. There are plenty of things to be angry about in the world and just as many things to worry about. And yet, the argument can be made that no good comes from anger or worry. They take time and energy that could be used for positive things. Jealousy falls into that category too.
4.Sarcasm. This one is partly a time-waster, and partly just negative. In truth, I am capable of being as sarcastic as anyone I know. I love irony, but I think sarcasm is irony gone bad. I can appreciate occasional sarcasm, but some people seem to use it to knock down anything and everything. At its worst, sarcasm is petty and condescending, and sucks the positive feelings out of life.
I’m sure you have other things on your list of time-wasters. We all have them. I guess there isn’t that much harm in wasting time except for the fact that we only get a certain amount of it. I don’t think we fully come to appreciate that early in our lives.
You could say that a better name for time would be “life-chunks.” They aren’t minutes or hours or days or years. Time is chunks of our lives. They have been given to us to use, and I think maybe we throw too many of them away.
I remember seeing an episode of the HBO program “Six Feet Under,” where one of the funeral home owners was consoling a neighbor who had lost a husband, I think. The woman asked, “Why do people have to die?” His answer really struck me. He said, “Because if people didn’t die life would have no value.”
That exchange haunts me to this day. I can add to it that if time were unlimited it, too, would have no value, but it isn’t, so it does. I hope to respect that value more during my remaining life-chunks.
I’ve been faced with a deadline for my column most every week since 1996. I’ve taken a few weeks off here and there, but most of the time I had 400 or so words of something to submit to the string of people who held the job of editor at the Cambridge News.
In fact, I’d estimate that over 1,100 columns ran over those years. That amounts to roughly 440,000 words – enough to make four novels.
Now I’ve been invited to NOT submit any more columns, for whatever reason. Recent changes in management and ownership surely factor into the decision, and while I’m a little sad, I recognize that these things happen.
It’s funny how old habits die. Hard. That’s how they die. On Monday I found myself bouncing some column ideas around in my head, only to realize that finding a topic wasn’t necessary. Truth be told, over the last 10 years or more, most of the topics that were on my mind were too political to submit to the paper. At least, that’s how I saw it. My goal for my column was to be entertaining and thought provoking, touching on politics only when I thought what I had to say was not being said elsewhere.
Ironically, the editorial page of the paper has become more political than before, but also, it seems, more politically correct. I had a column turned down in February (first time in 23 years) for discussing words from a published lexicon for gender terminology. I approached it in a light-hearted way. That was offensive, or so I was told. And, maybe it was. I don’t know.
For every one of the 23 years I’ve been writing my weekly column I’ve posed the following question to myself: Who the hell do I think I am? Who am I that anyone would care what I have to say about any topic?
The answer really never came to me, other than the eventual realization that nobody has a monopoly on what’s true or interesting, and, basically, why the hell NOT me? People can read what I have to say or not. If they are amused or informed; great. If not, so what?
So, I’m going to keep writing most every week and post what I have to say on my blog, which is at www.peterwallace.wordpress.com. A majority of those 1,100 previous columns are archived there as well.
I’m going to keep writing because of my ego, I’m sure, but also because it is a big help for me to put thoughts into words in the process of figuring out how I think and feel about things. Not doing that would be the hardest old habit to break.
For no particular reason, I wanted to share some photographs with you today. Not from this year’s garden, but now that we’ve turned the corner on spring, optimism reigns.
Depending on how much, and what you watch on television, you likely see many of the same commercials over and over again. Sometimes the same commercial will occur within the same break in programming, just in case we didn’t absorb it the first time.
Most ads on television don’t really have anything to do with me, so I ignore them, but some really get under my skin. Maybe they bother you too.
There is one family of commercials that cover several different companies and services. The upshot of these commercials is that, despite what you may think, you don’t have to pay credit card companies or the IRS money that you owe them.
I understand that people get into tough situations – often due to factors they couldn’t control. But, the message that “Credit card companies try to trick you into thinking you have to pay your bills” makes it seem like it’s okay to buy things and then not pay for them.
Likewise, people who owe the IRS lots of money are told they can settle for “pennies on the dollar.”
I’m no fan of the IRS or credit card companies, but the truth of the matter is that money you owe, and don’t pay, ends up coming from the rest of us in higher tax and interest rates.
Like I said, I understand that sometimes people need a helping hand to get through a tough time, but it’s almost as if those commercials make people who pay their bills and their taxes seem like chumps.
And, of course, the companies who are so willing to help you with your debt problems will certainly charge you plenty for their services. Try not paying them!
On the flip side of the commercial coin are the ads from GEICO and Progressive. They seem to come up with new commercials every other week, and they generally don’t have much to do with insurance, but they’re entertaining. Who knew a lizard could become a star?
Finally, there are the pharmaceutical ads. They sometimes make me feel like I need the drug, even if I’m not sure what it’s for, although whatever the malady is, it’s for people with “moderate or severe” cases of it.
The best thing about watching TV these days is that there aren’t any political ads to speak of. I plan to watch as much television as possible before the campaign season starts up again.
I heard a radio program last weekend that talked about the officiating of National Basketball Association games. It seems that fans have become ever more critical of the referees, and that it is a real issue for the league to manage.
So, they built a $15 million building in New Jersey that houses all sorts of TV monitors and such, so that other referees can monitor each and every NBA game, with up to 12 cameras, to help rule on certain calls made at the game.
They can zoom in and slow down the action to make determinations that would be impossible for a human to make at the game in real-time.
A person interviewed said that a typical NBA game might have two calls subject to review. Of those two, one or both might be overturned; or not. A lot of money goes into those two calls!
Things have come a long way since I played basketball in high school, though I don’t know if it’s for the better. Back then, the refs did their best, and what they called was final. Of course, players and fans sometimes took exception, but everybody understood that someone had to decide, and the guy with the striped shirt was that someone.
Now it seems like most sports have some kind of review process. Football was the first, and while some mistaken calls have been corrected, it has slowed down the game, and any time a play is reviewed, half the fans are happy and the other half mad.
I think it all has to do with the notion that life should always be fair. Sadly, it isn’t. It’s one thing if an official is taking bribes to throw a game, or if a referee just doesn’t like a certain player or team, but it’s all together different if that official is doing the best they can.
People will talk about how a ref cost one team or another to lose a game, and that can sometimes be the case. Most of the time, though, there are many variables at play, including missed free-throws, turnovers, or poor rebounding.
I’m fine with the video reviews. I cringe a little at the message they send, that absolute fairness is not only ideal, but to be expected. Therefore, some may say that if a game has a hint of unfairness, the losing team is a victim.
Upon further review, there are already too many victims in society, and nothing good comes from being one. In my view, a better approach is to accept life’s ups and downs, and focus on the things that we control, like hard work and a positive outlook.
I get to spend time people watching when I travel. Airports are a great place to see what is trending in fashion, for example.
Lately it seems that there are more and more little kids, in airports and elsewhere, who are in costume. A lot of princesses, of course, and the occasional Marvel Comic character. The other day I saw two young men – I’m guessing they were five and eight years old – dressed in pilot uniforms, complete with the hats. Pretty cute, I have to say.
We have to admire the folks at Disney and their ilk for marketing their characters so well. The mouse ears of my childhood have given way to much more spectacular outfits.
I have a granddaughter who loves to dress up as a ballerina, which is a pretty simply task. She twirls repeatedly, to the point that, if I were doing it, I’d collapse into a dizzy pile on the floor.
Kids feel special when they are in a costume. That’s important, and looking back a few generations, making kids feel special wasn’t always on the task list for parents. While I think we sometimes overdo it, (participation trophies, etc.) it’s a good thing.
Now, when we start talking about adults dressing up I costumes, that’s another thing. The NFL, NBA, NHL, and MLB are among the sports industries that sell all sorts of costumes for grown-ups. They don’t call them costumes, but if you’ve got the money, you can get very realistic copies of the actual uniforms players use.
As a guy who played a number of sports in my youth, wearing a game jersey gives me, at some level, the thought that perhaps I’ll be needed to play in the big game. That would, of course, require the incapacity of 80% of our country’s males. But hey, it could happen…
Of course, I know that wearing sports gear is a way of showing our support for our teams, just as wearing a Superman shirt is showing support for the Man of Steel. I actually owned a Superman shirt, but when I wore it, it was with a deep sense of irony. I’m less of a Superman type than a “hey, would you please call Superman for me?” type.
I think that I, in my golden years, will be known as that man who wears a propeller beanie, a bow tie, and a stethoscope. Let people decide if they think I’m a crazy genius doctor, or just crazy.
It’s funny how some words come into common use from time to time. I’m not talking about slang words, though that in itself is a great topic of conversation; dig? I’m talking more about existing words and phrases that emerge from the dusty pages of the dictionary into the sunlight of media use, specifically in reference to presidents.
John F. Kennedy had “charisma.” I’m not sure if the lack of charisma in his opponent, Richard Nixon, made Kennedy’s personality seem much brighter. Dwight Eisenhower, who was president when I was born, was nice, but nobody called him charismatic. I think JFK brought that word out of the shadows.
During President Johnson’s administration the word “quagmire” became prominent. It was a good word to describe the Viet Nam situation, both policy wise and muck-wise. That quagmire kept him from running for a second term.
During the Nixon years the word “cover-up” became very commonly used. I don’t remember hearing it much before that time. Surely it was an apt term for what that administration was attempting to do, but others had attempted the same thing in previous administrations – such as the Bay of Pigs disaster when the CIA made a failed attempt to invade Cuba in the Kennedy years.
Gerald Ford was made fun of for being accident prone, but I don’t recall any particular words associated with him.
President Carter had “stag-flation,” which sounds like blowing up a deer, but actually described the unusual situation of having a stagnant economy and high inflation at the same time.
President Reagan elicited great support and great opposition. “Homelessness” became a common term starting the day he was elected. Of course, there had been homeless people before that, but they hadn’t been used as a political issue before Reagan.
President George H.W. Bush popularized the word “prudent,” with the help of Saturday Night Live’s Dana Carvey.
President Clinton could “Feel your pain.” (Insert something funny here, if you’d like.)
President George W. Bush spawned a flood of media people using the word “gravitas,” which was a word nobody had used since Caesar. We were told again and again that he didn’t have it.
President Obama became associated with “Hope and Change,” genuinely by his fans and sarcastically by his opponents.
Now President Trump is on duty and associated with the word “collusion.” It’s not a word people often used until he became commander in chief. In fact, there is no mention of collusion in the criminal code. But, we’ve heard the word a lot just the same… or, at least we have up until now.
There are plenty of things in life that are aggravating. I’ve got my list and I’m sure you’ve got yours. It’s a wonder that with so many things about which to be aggravated somebody decided to make a board game called “Aggravation.”
When our kids were young we used to play that game now and then. In case you haven’t played it, I’ll just explain that it involves moving multiple marbles per player around a board (nothing revolutionary about that) and sometimes taking the opportunity to put a player back to the beginning by landing on one of their marbles. So, the innocent player may think he or she is about to win when, zap, there you go back to zero.
There is no evidence that “losing your marbles” is related to the game of Aggravation.
But, it is aggravating to get sent back to zero. Sometimes a player faces a choice of moving forward themselves, or sending someone else back. It’s a good test of personality. One of our kids would much rather that I lose than that she won. It gave her great joy.
Of course, it was all in good fun, aggravating though it was.
Last weekend I had the chance to play Aggravation with the next generation. It was fun to watch her face as she would realize that she could send her grandfather back to the beginning. I think she felt a little like David facing Goliath.
I’m not a big one for board games or card games. I guess in some ways I’m a stick in the mud. One of my regrets when I was a parent of young kids was not playing more board games and such. I was stupid to think it was about playing games when the truth was that the games were just an excuse to spend time together.
Frankly, it’s aggravating to think that I was too self-centered to engage with them more often. Now I have a kind of a second chance, I guess, with grandkids to play with. I hope I’ll learn to be more patient and appreciate my time with them more.
The other day when I got “aggravated” back to the beginning in our game, I pretended to be upset, to make my granddaughter giggle, but in truth I was enjoying engaging at her level and having a good time.
I think people are fascinated by crimes and the criminals who commit them. Not in a good way, usually, but because criminals are more interesting than people who follow the rules. So, much in the way of books, television, and movies focus on crime, or more precisely, on solving crimes.
It seems, though, that the people who write these crime dramas feel the need to add something quirky to the plot lines, and they often do that by having someone other than the police involved in solving the crime.
Back in the days of radio dramas, you had a newspaper reporter solving crimes on “Night Beat.” All he wanted was to get an exclusive on the story. There were plenty of private detectives solving crimes on the radio, in books, on TV, and in the movies. Sam Spade was one, and Phillip Marlow was another. They were always very dashing and witty. And they drank a lot.
One of my favorites from radio was Johnny Dollar, an insurance fraud investigator. The premise of that show was based around him filling out his expense report as he sleuthed, being sure to bill the insurance company for everything, including the cold pack he’d put on his head after getting pistol whipped.
In reality, though, private detectives spend most of their time verifying love affairs and disability claims and tracking down deadbeats. Solving murders isn’t really in their purview.
Television brought us a number of crime solvers who had other jobs. Jack Klugman’s Quincy was a pathologist, Dick Van Dyke’s Diagnosis Murder featured a doctor, Father Brown was a priest, Monk was a former cop with obsessive compulsive disorder, “Murder She Wrote” and “Castle” starred authors who solved crimes, and “Charlie’s Angels” were supermodel crime solvers with perfect hair at all times.
In recent years forensic experts have been the focus of several shows. While forensic investigation is a huge part of solving crimes, I’ll bet those folks hardly ever get in gun fights with the bad guys like they do on TV.
Lawyers are also represented as big crime solvers. Perry Mason, Matlock and others spent countless hours solving cases. Somehow, I don’t see that happening when an attorney’s time spent in the office is so much more lucrative.
I guess real crime solving isn’t very exciting. Collecting evidence, knocking on doors, interviewing people, looking on-line, and other tedious tasks are the bread and butter of police detectives. It maybe wouldn’t make great television, but I’m sure glad they do it. Life has enough drama without uncaught criminals running around.
Over the years I haven’t seen too many episodes of the television show called “COPS,” but recently I’ve been taking in some of the reruns, and I’ve learned some lessons. The first one is that if someone tells you to watch your head, you’re probably not having a very good day, and you’re being put in the back of a squad car.
My experience with police has been pretty limited. I got a speeding ticket in 1981 and have been pulled over for warnings a few times since then. I’m not saying I’ve never done anything wrong, but so far I’ve avoided arrest.
Watching COPS gives me a peek into a different side of life. I understand that the show is selective on what they show and not likely to highlight police who are not acting professionally, but the level of patience and understanding they demonstrate is impressive.
The alleged perpetrators, on the other hand, are not impressive at all.
For any future stars of “COPS” I have some advice.
1.Put on a shirt. I know a lot of the show is filmed in warm places, but not having a shirt on denotes a certain cavalier attitude.
2.Stop lying. It’s understandable to explain things to police in a way that puts you in a good light, but the bald-faced lies are so unbelievable that sometimes the police have all they can do to keep from laughing.
3.Be less impaired. It seems that almost all of the people stopped are either drunk, otherwise impaired, or have just purchased drugs in order to become impaired. And, again the lying thing comes up. Don’t say you’ve had two beers and then blow a 3.0 on the breath-a-lizer.
4.Don’t steal cars. It’s hard to believe, but even if you’re just driving to the store to get milk, you will likely be arrested if you’re driving in a stolen car. And, trying to outrun the police doesn’t usually end well.
5.Walk away. Arguments between two or more intoxicated family members often result in the police being called in, and in many states such a call results in the mandate for someone to go to jail. These arguments generally can’t be won anyway, so you might just as well walk away.
6.“It’s not mine” is another one of those lies people try to sell to the police. When a few baggies of crack cocaine are found in your pocket, it strains credulity when you act surprised to see it, and claim it belongs to someone else.
Mostly, unless you really want to be on a show like “COPS,” I’d suggest remaining sober, going to bed by midnight, and not stealing cars. And, if you really want to feel what it’s like to get “tased,” stand in some wet grass this spring and grab an electric fence.
Have you ever been to Old World Wisconsin? If you haven’t, you should. It’s perhaps best described as a living museum, with homesteads and businesses from various parts of Wisconsin that have been taken apart and re-assembled for us to learn from and enjoy.
One of the homes is a log cabin that is, I would estimate, 12 feet square with a small loft above. In that home lived an entire family along with a pen for their pigs. The advantage was that everybody survived the winter cold, along with the pigs. The disadvantage was, I’m guessing, that the close quarters and pig odors gave everybody in the family a bad case of cabin fever.
These days most of us have a much better time dealing with winter, thanks to central heat and barns, but by this time of the winter cabin fever begins to be a problem.
The part of winter that comes before January 2nd is mostly fun and pleasurable, thanks to the newness of the snow, if there is any, and the holidays we celebrate. February 2nd gives us the groundhog, and the delusion that winter can’t last more than six weeks longer. By early March we start to feel like it’s time for winter to end. But, this year, and many years in the past, winter doesn’t want to leave.
We can look at seed catalogues and the displays in the stores about spring clothing and deck furniture and such, but we are brought back to reality when we step outside.
People become nostalgic as we hear phrases like, “Do you remember when it was above freezing that one time?”
Of course, winter will eventually end, unless a new ice age has just started. When it does end, our world will be sloppy for a while, and then we’ll see nice spring greens popping up all around us.
Then, a few weeks after that, we’ll wonder how we’re going to survive all the heat and humidity and mosquitoes and hay fever that spring and summer bring. That reminds me that in the winter you can always put on more clothes to keep warm, while in the summer you can only take off clothes to a certain point, unless you avoid being in public.
Seasons and seasonings are similar, in a way. They both bring variety to life, and sometimes a person can get too much of either.
Anybody need some ice? I’ve got some. Just let me know.
It sure has been an icy few weeks, hasn’t it? Freezing rain, snow, regular rain that freezes, snow that melts, and then freezes, and any other possible way for ice to form, it has done so.
Salt has been hard to come by. I saw a lady with a salt shaker trying to treat her sidewalk. That’s not actually true, but I wouldn’t doubt that it has happened.
At our place two of the four buildings had frozen-shut doors yesterday. Chipping away at ice is somewhat satisfying, but the vibrations stay with your wrists for a couple of days.
Years ago I made the case for buying a flame thrower. My reason was to kill weed seeds in the garden, but my idea was vetoed. I couldn’t help but think, this past weekend, that a flame thrower would have been an excellent tool to deal with all the ice. Accidentally burning down a building or two might also have happened, but most innovative plans have little problems to work out.
Before electrical refrigeration, people kept food cold in “ice boxes” in their kitchens. The ice came from the iceman, who cometh several times a week. That ice, often, came from frozen northern lakes, and was stored in sawdust through the summer months. Sven, the male love-interest in the movie “Frozen” was an ice harvester.
Of course, in addition to the icy conditions last weekend we also had 40 to 50 mile per hour winds. Depending on which way a person was walking, the wind either made things very easy or very difficult.
With the ice and wind, I’m sure there were many slips and falls (we saw one) and we can only hope nobody was badly hurt. It’s funny how falling down on the ice at age ten is a fun activity, but at age 65 it’s a miracle if nothing breaks.
With March nearly upon us, the ever-closer sun should do its job in melting the ice that’s here, and decrease the chances of more ice coming our way. Or, the opposite. It’s hard to tell.
After all, it snowed in Southern California last week. Somebody said there were flakes in L.A., and I didn’t disagree.
Change is happening all around us with ever increasing rapidity, and while sometimes it’s frustrating, I understand that it has to happen. Progress is the goal in a capitalist society. People make things better, and profit from it.
Sometimes, though, it seems like changes are made for the sake of change rather than to make real improvements. Or, at least the improvements are offset by some downsides.
One such example, in my opinion, is the “Freestyle” beverage dispensers featured in more and more restaurants that serve Coke products.
The idea isn’t bad. Rather than having the typical five or six drinks to choose from, a touch screen offers you the chance to navigate through multiple levels of choices. So, you don’t just get Coke and Diet Coke, but you can also choose Lime Diet Coke or something even worse. Ginger ale, fruit flavored soft drinks, and exotic drinks you’ve never heard of are available for the connoisseur.
There’s one problem: All the dozens of drinks available taste a little like each other. Even plain old Coke doesn’t taste right. I try to remember to choose root beer, since that’s hard to mess up.
It’s like the soft drink “guns” in bars that spurt out whatever the bartender chooses to make mixed drinks. Without the alcohol to buffer the taste, they’re not very good.
And, getting back to the “Freestyle” dispensers, more choices means more time for people to make their choices and figure out how to dispense the drinks.
Maybe they dispenser innovators will figure out how to solve all the problems, or perhaps more likely, I’m the only one who has a complaint about them.
Self-driving cars also strike me as a solution to a problem nobody had. I like to drive, as do a lot of people. I understand that, theoretically, self-driving cars won’t be as likely to run into people and things, which I admit would be a good outcome. I’m dubious, though, that whatever benefits accrue, there will be an equal number of disadvantages.
I can just see myself, a few years from now, riding down the street in a car I’m not driving, but which is driving me. I’ll take a drink from my cup, make a face, and say something about the good old days. But, the other people in the car will be immersed in their virtual reality viewers, so nobody will hear me.
I’ve been thinking about the way we are in our country. We don’t want to hear opinions we disagree with. We don’t want to see or hear things that offend us. Yet, words like “fascist” and “Nazi” and “communist” are thrown around thoughtlessly, and made-up news is believed because it fits our negative narrative.
Things are so bad that the Oscars’ broadcast won’t have a host this year, in part because they can’t find a comedian who has never said anything that some people would find offensive.
Speakers at colleges are cancelled because what they have to say may make some of the students uncomfortable. I was plenty uncomfortable when I went to college, but I thought college was exactly the right place to have beliefs challenged.
People talk about the country being divided, and I think it is, in about a dozen different ways. I laugh a little every time I see a “coexist” bumper sticker, as I recall some of the intolerant language some of those people have used. Coexisting with people who look and sound and think just like you isn’t really much of a challenge.
It struck me that the changes in attitudes in our country may have something to do with the ever-shrinking percentage of our population who experienced World War II and The Great Depression. There are fewer every day.
Yes, we’ve had wars since World War II, but that was the last war during which everyone in the country was involved, through military service, war factories, or indirectly through rationing. The Great Depression was also horrible, but people looked out for each other, and were grateful for every day that they survived.
Those surely weren’t the good old days, , but black and white men fought side-by-side, or worked on WPA projects together, or stood in bread lines. There were plenty of racists, but I think a majority of people wanted to get along because life was hard enough.
Being offended had no up-side during those days. There was too much to do. Scraping together a living in The Depression, and building ships and planes and training soldiers and workers and recycling materials needed for the war while worrying about friends and families overseas didn’t leave time to be offended.
I’m sure there were plenty of political differences, but the tradition of speaking one’s mind was still alive – maybe because of all the lives that were lost or changed in the fight for that freedom.
Really, we’re all on the same team now too, even if we don’t always realize it. I think most politicians want the best for people but have different ideas on how to achieve it. Painting people and their ideas as evil or hateful doesn’t help make progress.
Somehow, we’ve been convinced that sticks and stones aren’t the only things that harm us, and that different philosophies shouldn’t be abided if they offend us. That’s no way to have a conversation.
I’d never wish for another Great Depression or world war, of course, but each day, as more people from that era pass away, they take with them the memory of a once-unified nation.
Politics is a rough business, and there have been times in the past that were just as nasty as they are today. I hope that somehow we can come to allow all ideas to be discussed and decided upon without one side or the other being accused of any “isms.” Maybe each of us can start by raising our own level of civility and open mindedness.
First of all, Happy Chinese New Year! We are entering the Year of the Pig, if you wondered. I’m sure it is a coincidence, but a 48 year-old Florida woman was arrested recently for hitting her boyfriend in the face with a frozen pork chop.
Actually, the pig is the last animal in the 12-year zodiac cycle. If you are born during a pig year, you are said to be diligent, compassionate, and generous. There is no tradition of using frozen pork as a weapon.
Did you read that celery juice is the next big thing? I like celery, but I’ve never had the juice.
On a perhaps related topic, a bipartisan group called Health Feedback and an organization called the Credibility Coalition researched health claims on websites like Time, NPR, the Huffington Post, CNN, and others that were subsequently shared on social media sites. They found that of the top ten most shared health reports, seven included inaccurate or misleading information, and only three were considered “highly credible.” I guess we need to be careful about who we trust in the news media.
Maybe not so much health related is the story from the UK Guardian that reports some people who want sustainable, cruelty-free foods are eating gray squirrels. Sounds like something Granny would make for Uncle Jed, Ellie Mae, and Jethro.
Another news brief: It is said that $190 million dollars worth of crypto-currencies are caught in a financial limbo after the only person with the passwords to unlock the currency died. Oh, and there’s something else: this crypto money belongs to other people. I don’t understand cryptocurrencies, and this certainly doesn’t make me want them.
Another related story quotes the digital vault company called Keeper as saying the most popular password in 2019 is “1234567.” I wonder if they’ve tried that on the crypto-deceased’s laptop? FYI, the Keeper folks and other security experts do not recommend using easy to remember passwords.
The state of Hawaii is considering a ban on cigarettes. I predict that it won’t happen, since the loss of tax revenue would be too hard to take.
More briefs: A Tennessee man who was eaten by a bear in the Great Smoky Mountain National Park wasn’t killed by the bear. He overdosed on methamphetamine, and THEN the bear ate him. There is no word on health issues the bear may have undergone.
I try to keep up with what is going on in society. There are days when I realize I’m not doing a very good job of it.
While reading a news article about one of the new congresswomen in Washington, D. C., I learned that she and I have something in common. We are both in the category of “cisgender” people. She seemed to be ashamed of it, but I’m not.
The Merriam Webster dictionary defines cisgendered as being “a person whose gender identity corresponds with the sex the person had or was identified as having at birth.”
In other words, I’m (I hope it’s okay to use this word) normal. Well, that may be stretching it. Let’s just say in that one way I’m normal.
In the world of sex and gender, the lexicon seems to grow weekly. Here are a couple of the dozens of words you didn’t know existed. “Aromantic:” This means someone who doesn’t really have romantic feelings. It looks a lot like aromatic, which is something that has an aroma. “Gynephilic:” means being attracted to women. Who knew?
Apparently, cesgendered gynephilic people like me need to be very careful not to become “cisnormative,” wherein I might think I am superior to people who are not like me. That can also be called “cissexism.”
It is a somewhat confusing time. There are a lot of things we need to be careful about. There are people just waiting to be offended.
I remember reading a headline a while back about how some transgender people were protesting a performance by some transvestites because it made them feel bad. More recently a women’s march was cancelled because too high a percentage of marchers were going to be white. Another such march was cancelled because some of the leaders were anti-semites.
Maybe it’s because I grew up in the 1960s, but that era’s idea of getting rid of labels seems to have fallen out of favor. A label used to define or understand something is great, but a label that groups people for convenient stereotyping is sad.
One of the best compass point musicians, Joe South, recorded a song at the end of the 60s called “Walk a mile in my shoes.” Any time I find myself rolling my eyes or shaking my head at some of the things people say or do, I try to remember that I’m not looking at whatever it is through their eyes, and that what may seem unnecessary to me is of great importance to them.
And maybe, as I’m trying to keep up with what’s changing in society, society will cut me some slack too.
Winter is winter. It gets cold. It snows. Or at least, that’s what we have come to expect. This year the snowfall was pretty miserly, until last week. And the cold was pretty limited. Until last week. Now we’ve got plenty of both.
There’s something about a thick blanket of snow that I really missed. Now that it’s here I think I’ve come to realize that it’s how snow quiets things. It quiets the sounds, and it simplifies the visual world, limiting a lot of the details of the landscape that it covers up. It really is like a great, white blanket.
The cold is not something I miss very much, but I have to admit that it has some good qualities too. They say movement is good for our health, and super-cold weather provides an incentive to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible.
The cold air also makes the world sound crisp, and makes the night sky pop with stars and planets. Unfortunately, it also makes my glasses fog up, so those skyward glances can’t be very long.
Perhaps most importantly, very cold weather means there isn’t any slush to step in. Slush is the worst.
In true Midwestern fashion, I’d also say that very cold weather heightens our appreciation for a warm fire or blanket, much in the same way that winter makes the arrival of spring really festive here, and not very noticeable in Florida or California, where it doesn’t get cold.
When people say they prefer warm weather states I think they are being very reasonable. It’s harder to be here in the winter than to be there. Some of my enjoyment of the snow and cold might be just rationalizations for staying here.
That being said, there is something to the whole idea that happiness comes from a healthy mix of striving towards goals, but being happy for what we have. There is much to like about all Wisconsin seasons, just as each has down sides. Deciding to actively be happy about something may be the secret to being satisfied with life.
The days are growing longer, the sun, when out, is more direct, and before we know it, it will be spring again. Sure, it may snow in the spring, and it may turn cold, but that’s why we live here: Nature’s pageant of weather never ceases to amaze us!
As per usual, I’d like to take a look at some of the people who passed away last year. This is not an extensive list, but includes people that meant something to me over my life, and deserve a bit of reflection.
In the music business, Roy Clark was considered to be an outstanding instrumentalist. He also sang some country hits, and co-hosted “Hee-Haw” with Buck Owens.
Vic Damone was one of several Italian Frank Sinatra sound-alikes who had a good career. Aretha Franklin was nothing like Frank Sinatra, or anyone else, for that matter. She was a giant in rhythm and blues.
Nancy Wilson sang songs that both Vic and Aretha would have sung. She was a great star who, I remember reading years ago, never learned to read music. Dennis Edwards was lead singer for The Temptations, and Bob Dorough labored in anonymity as the writer of the “School House Rock” series of educational videos.
In TV and movies, two huge behind-the-scenes guys died last year. Steven Bochco who created “Hill Street Blues,” “NYPD Blue,” and “LA Law” redefined cop shows with sexy scenes and “cinema veritas” (wobbly) hand-held camera shots. Neil Simon created “The Odd Couple” and many more hit Broadway plays.
An actress turned director, Penny Marshall, was Laverne, but also Oscar Madison’s assistant in, of all things, “The Odd Couple” on television. She directed “A League of Their Own” and “Big,” among other movies
Harry Anderson was sometimes a bit creepy as a con-man magician, but was sweet as the judge on Night Court.
R. Lee Ermey was a retired drill sergeant who could take those skills and apply them to various roles. David Ogden Stiers played a reluctant soldier, Major Charles Emerson Winchester III in MASH. Ken Berry was the not-very-good Captain Parmenter in “F Troop,” and the beleaguered man of the house in “Momma’s Family.”
Speaking of Families, John Mahoney was Frasier’s dad and Jerry Van Dyke was Dick’s brother, both in real life and in several episodes of “The Dick Van Dyke Show.”
Nanette Fabray was a great star who lost, but later re-gained her hearing. Margot Kidder was Lois Lane for Christopher Reeve’s Superman. She suffered a nervous breakdown in 1996, but recovered and continued to act.
Marty Allen was a comic actor and comedian, most known for his performances in the duo of Allen and Rossi on the “Ed Sullivan Show.”
Tab Hunter portrayed a real lady’s man in 50s and 60s films, but in real life had an interest in men, which ended his career, but which also restarted his career in the 80s as times changed. Burt Reynolds also had a long career with ups and downs. He usually played comic roles, but “Deliverance” showed he could really act.
Paul Allen spent the first half of his life making tons of money as the co-founder of Microsoft, and the second half giving money away (more than $2 billion) and buying sports teams like the Seattle Sea Hawks and Portland Trailblazers.
George H.W. Bush and his wife of many years, Barbara Bush, both died in 2018, as often seems to happen with life-long partners. He was president and father of a president. John Adams was the only other man to have that distinction as father of John Quincy Adams.
John McCain was a prisoner of war, a long-time member of the U.S. Senate, and a presidential nominee. Kofi Annan was the general secretary of the United Nations. Winnie Mandela divorced Nelson after he was released from jail, but continued to be an activist and politician, getting in trouble for corruption and human rights abuses.
Chef Anthony Bourdain garnered a following from his television shows, books, and columns. Billy Graham gained a following as perhaps the greatest evangelist of all time, packing venues on his “crusades.”
Stephen Hawking looked upwards like Graham, but saw different things. Despite his physical deformities, he was perhaps the most brilliant physicist of our era.
Stan Lee worked in the comic book industry in eight decades, making Marvel into the biggest comics company in the world, and helping to create Spider Man, Ant Man (who Spider Man could eat) The Hulk, and many more.
Phillip Roth was a mostly comedic writer of novels, and Tom Wolfe a more serious writer. Both captured elements of American society in a manner that was both clear and unsettling.
Finally, Carl Kasell died in 2018. Who? Well, Carl was a North Carolina high school drama student of then drama teacher Andy Griffith. He worked in local radio and interrupted his college education after being drafted to serve in the army.
After leaving the army he moved to D.C., and as news director of a station there he hired Katie Couric, starting her broadcasting career.
Then he went to work for National Public Radio as morning news anchor for 34 years, after which he went on to co-host a public radio quiz show called “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me…” By all accounts Carl was a lover of radio and the nicest guy in the world.
If you think about it, there can only be one “nicest guy in the world,” but who among us wouldn’t want that to be said about us after we’re gone. Achievements and legacies are all well and good, but to be remembered as especially nice or kind or thoughtful – that’s something to aim towards.
If you lost someone special this year please know that they were more important to you than any of the people we’ve briefly profiled. I wish for you warm thoughts of them in the year to come.
There is so much news available these days that it becomes necessary to pick and choose what we read and watch. Headlines are an excellent means of determining whether something is worth reading. Sometimes, headlines spur my imagination to create what is surely a better story.
Here are some headlines from a news site, and my idea of what the stories should be about:
“Original Civil War-era Lincoln letter up for sale.” It is the letter “W.”
“Retro-electric Ford Mustang revealed in Russia.” Those radio-controlled cars are a lot of fun! I’m glad Russia finally has them.
“Cat gets caught in laundry vent; literally needs buttering up to get out.” That house was full of saturated cats.
“Whataburger fan paints pastoral landscapes featuring iconic burger chain.” Instead of paints he used mustard, ketchup, and relish.
“’Gilmore Girls’ house now serving lunch.” Unfortunately, the incessant jabbering of the Gilmores causes customers to throw up their hands and run away.
“’Old Bay’ upset about ‘New Bae’ seasoning…” I’m sure the similarity is coincidental. Like “Dr. Pepper” and “Mr. Pibb.”
“Man banned from pub for bringing his pet ferrets…” He should have looked for a pub with a “Weasels Welcome” sign.
“Dale Earnhardt once got Jeff Gordon out of a ticket.” It was a ticket to the opera, and Jeff really didn’t want to go.
“Human heart left on SouthWest flight.” It was a flight to San Francisco, apparently.
“Taco Bell adding $1 burritos to menu later this month.” Be forewarned that burrito means “little burro.”
“KFC debuts fried chicken scented fire logs ahead of Christmas.” May I ask you, who doesn’t want their living room to smell like a Kentucky Fried Chicken store?
“You can’t hide from Britain’s new ‘Long Ranger” traffic camera.” It just nabbed a guy in Montana for ten over the limit.
“Bride wows guests with father-daughter dance on roller skates.” EMT’s wow guests with life-saving treatment after roller skating father landed awkwardly on table holding wedding cake, breaking three ribs and ruining two tiers.
“Suspected burglar of Chinese restaurant trapped in grease vent for two days.” (Multiple choice) A: And an hour later he felt like getting trapped again. B: The name of the restaurant, translated into English is “The Grease Trap.” C: Somebody bring the buttered cat over here.
That’s enough, or perhaps too much. I hope you’ll agree that none of the actual stories from these actual headlines would be as interesting as my made-up descriptions. Feel free to come up with your own.
As someone who just recently passed an age threshold, I’m perhaps a little too interested in changes and how things were in the past. After all, looking backwards gets you nowhere, unless you’re looking backwards and walking forwards, in which case you will probably run into a tree, or something.
It sure isn’t difficult to think of big changes from even a dozen years ago. The smart phone didn’t appear until 2007, after all. Before that time an “app” was something the waiter tried to talk you into ordering before your meal.
Now millions and millions of us stare at smart phones for hours at a time – even while eating appetizers. Parents ignore their children, children ignore their parents, and parents ignore each other, all for the sake of sending senseless texts and looking at videos of cats.
Scientists say our kids’ brains are being changed by all this screen time. We’ll have to see if the changes are good or bad, I guess. It’s hard to tell with kids.
It also seems that many more things are bad for us than in my childhood. During that misspent youth I ate more sugar in a week than I now do in a year, and yet, I’m told I eat too much of it.
A healthy diet now consists of broccoli, carrots, and… well, that’s really about it.
The cars we drive have really changed. Soon the driverless cars will be perfected, and people will be able to nap on their way to work in the morning. By “perfected” I mean that they will stop running into things and running over people.
The outdated notion that people are either men or women seems to have been replaced by something else. I’m not sure what today’s notion is, only that the words “sex” and “gender” are supposed to mean different things now, and people can choose their gender on a continuum between male and female. Anyone predicting these ideas in 1970 would have been institutionalized.
Some things haven’t changed at all. People still seek companionship and love. We all want to be respected in some way, and respect is elusive. We all look for our lives to have meaning, and that too is sometimes hard to grasp.
There’s a new year coming up, and we’ll have to wait and see what new changes await us, and what old standbys, like love, respect, and meaning, continue to be more important than most of the things we focus on.
Lots of words have more than one meaning. One of those words, it occurs to me, is the word “bar.”
Most of us, when we think about bars, probably think first of the places people go to relax, converse, and attain a modified mental state. The piece of furniture over which the drinks are passed is called the bar by the bartender to the bar maids. We have a lot of bars in Wisconsin and many of them are homes away from home for patrons.
You can be barred from a bar if you cause trouble or can’t control yourself.
Candy bars are good, but not too good for us. You could make a bar graph that compares the healthiness of different foods like candy bars and the foods you might find at a salad bar.
When people become lawyers they need to pass the bar exam, and might become part of the American Bar Association, which is different than the tavern league. If they lie cheat and steal, however, they may find themselves behind bars.
When someone encourages better performance by making an example of their own excellent efforts they are said to be “raising the bar,” as in the high jump or pole vault. On the other hand, if you are involved in a limbo dance contest, the objective is to lower the bar.
It would be great to be spending time on a sand bar and to dig up a gold bar left by pirates long ago. Maybe the pirate had a handlebar mustache. You might celebrate by singing a few bars of a happy song. Then you can get on your bike and grab the handlebars and rush home to share the good news. You would be the luckiest person in the world, bar none.
Some people refer to our nation’s flag as being the stars and bars. Certain military ranks have insignia that are bars. They’re like stripes, only made of metal.
Some home theater systems have sound bars. Television engineers make sure your picture is right by calibrating the color bars. After lunch, they have ice cream bars.
So, you see my point. There are a lot of meanings and uses for the word bar. I don’t know if this is useful information, but feel free to use it to win a bar bet.
I heard a song by a bluegrass group the other day. The premise of the song was that the scars we carry, physical and emotional, are the evidence of our lives. The singer reflected on some of his scars and how he got them, and what he learned in the process.
Like anyone would, I think, I started thinking about the stories behind my scars.
The two earliest scars I got, and still have, include one above my upper lip that was the result of getting hit there with a rock, thrown by another kid. He and I, both about six years old, thought it was a good idea to throw stones at each other. We learned that it was not a good idea.
The second is a football shaped scar on my left foot which was the result of riding my tricycle without shoes on, in violation of one of Mom’s rules. My foot slipped off the pedal and into the little tricycle spokes. Lesson learned.
A couple of years later I had a bicycle related incident involving a bumpy path and the crossbar on my bike making contact with a certain part of my body. I can’t talk about that scar.
Over the years many more scars were gathered. There are two that I really cherish – one under my left eye that resulted from a tumble I took when our dog, Toby, greeted me with a little too much enthusiasm as I walked across the yard when he was young. The other is from a scratch on my arm that I got from Toby during his last couple months with us. We were playing, and he miscalculated how close I was. I’m happy to have both of those.
One I’m not that happy about is on my forehead, and it is the result of walking into a beam. As a tall person I hit my head way too often, but this was the only one to leave a scar.
Emotional scars? We all have them, I guess. Most of mine are because of missed opportunities to do the right thing, doing the wrong thing, or the people who aren’t here anymore who I miss.
As the song points out – and I think it’s true – the people we become results from the healed injuries much more than from the joys. It’s not easy to imagine that those wounds have an upside when they happen, but time and reflection shows that many of them do.
With Thanksgiving behind us, it’s nice if the warm memories of time spent with friends and family lingers on. If you prepared a really large turkey, the leftovers are probably also lingering on.
It all comes from a fear of not having enough, and of not knowing how much 20 pounds of turkey really is. Plus, this would have to be the year that nobody wanted to over-eat.
Here is the diary of one family’s battle to use up their turkey.
Day 1: A wonderfully prepared, golden brown turkey which everyone loved! Definitely a victory. Better than last year when the smoke didn’t clear until the night game was on.
Day 2: Turkey sandwiches with mayo and horseradish. Very good. Brings back memories of eating turkey sandwiches last year. Isn’t nostalgia great?
Day 3: Turkey tetrazzini. Not bad, as far as casseroles go. Turns out that tetrazzini is an American dish. Don’t try to order it in Italy. Who knew?
Day 4: Turkey soup. Good for a cold day. Made enough soup for four more meals. Turkey must be about gone. I mean, it must be, right?
Day 5: Oh dear God! The turkey in the fridge has multiplied like fishes and loaves. We haven’t made a dent! So much turkey!
Day 6: Turkey fondue. Oh, that was a bad idea. Damp cheese over dry poultry. So much for the 70s.
Day 7: Turkey hash. Actually, the fondue was better. Drowning it in gravy made it edible.
Day 8: Turkey salad sandwiches. Very good, except that it tastes like turkey. It’s wrong to waste food. Waste not, want not, after all. It must be just about gone.
Day 9: Turkey stir-fry. I don’t think China has any turkeys.
Day 10: Accidentally threw out the rest of the turkey. And, by accidentally, I mean on purpose.
Day 11: Woke up in a cold sweat during a dream about Thanksgiving with a kitchen full of turkeys. Turkeys on platters, live turkeys walking around, turkeys wearing chef’s hats…
Day 12: Just ordered a 22-pound ham for Christmas. That will be enough, won’t it?
The Thanksgiving holiday is the time of year when we are officially thankful. We even take off of work to be thankful, unless we’re working retail and getting things set-up for the day after Thanksgiving.
At the same time as we’re supposed to be officially thankful, we traditionally get together with large family groups in order to consume large quantities of food, and in many families, alcohol, and watch football games.
In many homes the actual official moment of thankfulness comes as everyone sits down at the table and/or children’s table. Sometimes the head of the family says a prayer or a heartfelt expression of thankfulness. Some families go around the table to let everyone express something for which they are grateful.
These are both really nice traditions, but the expectations are sometimes greater than the reality. My mom would take it upon herself to say something meaningful, and someone would snicker or make a quiet remark in fun, and the result would be tears. You’d think there could be one time of the year when we wouldn’t joke around, but you’d be wrong.
I think a day to be thankful is a really good idea. We should be thankful every day, of course, and we probably are, even if we’re not really thinking about it as much as we should.
Feeling gratitude turns out to make people happier. A study done by Harvard Health says so. Thinking you can’t be happy until you get everything you want is a recipe for being unhappy, but being grateful for what you have makes you feel good.
If you’re sitting around the Thanksgiving table – even if nobody makes you tell why you’re thankful – it is a good time to take a moment to be grateful for being alive. The physical and emotional aches and pains we suffer are all reminders that we have this amazing gift of life, and the opportunities to live it well.
Eating too much and watching football are all part of Thanksgiving, but to look around and appreciate what you have, and who you have in your life, might make the Thanksgiving experience more complete.
The word “museum” comes from Latin, and means a place of study. The famous muses who inspire and frustrate artists are said to have hung out at museums, which were their shrines.
There is surely a lot of beauty in the world and a lot of history to be derived from things around us. But museums take beauty or history or science and focus it into one place for us to enjoy, learn, and put our everyday world into perspective.
Our family has always included museums and historical sites in our vacations. Now that our nest is empty we still explore those opportunities. Last weekend we visited three such places in the Fox Valley, and had a pretty good time.
Our first stop was at the Paine Art Center and Gardens in Oshkosh – my home town. It is a mansion built by Mr. and Mrs. Nathan Paine, owners of a large lumber company back in the day, producing, among other things, doors.
They decide to build an English style mansion as a home and museum, but as the Great Depression hit, they determined that living there would be an affront to the thousands of unemployed workers. After the depression, they completed the mansion strictly as a museum, furnished and adorned with the best of the best in art and design.
There are also great English gardens, but not so much in November. They have a big deal exhibit at Christmas based on The Nutcracker. We saw the set-up, but it starts late this week.
Then we went to the Bergstrom-Mahler Museum of Glass in Neenah. Mrs.
Evangeline Bergstrom loved glass paperweights. As the wife of the founder of the Bergstrom Paper Company she had the resources to acquire a lot of them, and they’re all at this museum on the Lake Winnebago shore that had been her home.
In addition to the paperweights (which were dazzling, believe it or not) there is other glass art, including some whimsical pieces and some knock-outs.
The Mahler part of the museum is for Caroline and Ernst Mahler, originally from Vienna, who gave a substantial collection of Germanic glass to the museum.
The next day we went to the EAA museum in Oshkosh. We’ve been to a number of flight museums, including the Smithsonian in Washington, D.C., and this one compares favorably. All sorts of military and private planes, along with many historical home-made planes are exhibited. It is really something, and at 90 minutes away, it will be a great family outing.
All three museums were great. And, the Oshkosh Public Museum, which is kitty-corner from the Paine, is also very good if that sort of things is interesting to you. You’ll make different sorts of memories than with a trip to an indoor water park, but you also won’t have water in your ears for the next week.
Last week’s elections made a lot of news, understandably. As usual, about half of us are happy, but not thrilled, and the other half of us are sad, but not tragically. There were some things about this year’s election that were interesting to me. Let’s see if they are to you as well.
It is estimated that $5.2 billion was spent on campaigns and by independent organizations. Since 113 million people voted, that works out to $46 per vote. A handful of billionaires were behind candidates in a number of races, and some of them got a return on their investments, but not all.
It seemed to me that ideas took a back seat to diversity. For example, here are some headlines: “Urban/Rural Chasm Deepens.” “110 Female Winners.” “Native American Lesbians Wins House Seat.” “First Muslim Congresswoman.” “Trans Candidate Misses.” “First Openly Gay Male Governor in Colorado.” Ocasio-Cortez to be Youngest Woman Ever in Congress.”
Perhaps the real kicker in the diversity department was, “Dead Brothel Owner Wins.”
There was a time, not that long ago, that almost every candidate, win or lose, was an older white male. It’s good to see that other categories of people are able to run, and sometimes win.
One real sign of progress in that regard is that the many black candidates – again, winners and losers – were not singled out as being headline-worthy because of their race.
I was surprised by some of the winners and losers. The disparity on money spent on some of the races probably made a difference. Some of the things said in the ads were misleading or incorrect. But, campaign ads are given a lot of latitude as the most pure exercise of free speech.
Various media outlets did not even hide their love or disdain for candidates. Depending on your sources of news and information, you might have heard only part of the story. Again, free speech makes that the prerogative of those entities.
The good news is that once again our country has made a mid-course correction without bloodshed, as happens in some countries. That being said, some radical groups did engage in violent and destructive protests in Portland and elsewhere. Voting is a much better way to make change.
Everybody is taking a breath now, and we’ll see what all is going to happen in the next two years. My guess is that there will be a lot of heat, but not much light. In other words, a lot of politics but not much governing.
All the years I was growing up my dad wore hats. Mostly, he wore what I guess is called a fedora hat for his walk to work, or going to church or shopping. To a large extent, that’s just what men did back then.
If you look at photographs of major league baseball game crowds in the 1050s, many of the men are wearing dress hats instead of the more commonly used baseball caps of today.
It is said that President Kennedy killed the men’s hat industry by not wearing one. That seems hard to believe, but then again, Mary Tyler Moore was said to have made ski pants popular, so maybe it is true.
My dad was not a slave to fashion, which is an understatement. I think he kept wearing hats after many men stopped because it seemed proper to do so, and partly, I think, his baldness called for some kind of protection.
Now and then I see a man wearing a fedora. If he’s 25 years old and wearing skinny jeans, I think he looks dumb. If he’s wearing a wool overcoat and has greying temples, he probably looks pretty good.
Now and then I try on hats, and mostly I feel like I’m playing dress-up. It’s too easy to be defined by a hat. As much as I might want to be Indiana Jones or a cowboy or Frank Sinatra or Crocodile Dundee, I’m just not.
So, I don’t wear a dress hat. If it’s really cold, I wear a knit cap. If it’s sunny I wear a baseball cap. Sometimes in the garden I wear a mosquito netting hat. Very stylish!
It occurs to me that maybe I’m trying so hard to avoid looking like someone I’m not that I may not have figured out just who I am. Interesting.
Since wearing a dress hat makes me feel that I look like my dad, maybe I resist because I don’t want to admit that I’m not 18 anymore. That’s a little sad, considering I haven’t been 18 for a really long time.
After much consideration, I believe I will start wearing a stovepipe hat, like the one President Lincoln wore. I can show respect for a great president and (this is the best part) there will be room to store an emergency sandwich.
There are just a few more days before the mid-term elections, which will spawn, almost immediately, the presidential campaigns for 2020. Oh joy.
I thought maybe we should talk a little bit about politics before Tuesday, as long as everybody else is.
I am the proud owner of a minor in political science from my college days. That means I know almost nothing, but maybe 1% more than most people. So, I thought we could have a little chat about things.
First of all, disagreements in how government should be run are normal, and good. If you start from the belief that everybody wants the best for people, but have different ideas on how to go about it, that helps. If the people who disagree with you are painted as being evil, there’s no reason to have a conversation.
That, to me, is the situation we find ourselves in these days. Instead of candidates focusing on what they believe and want to accomplish, campaigns focus on the opposition, and about how they eat babies and want to kill everyone different from them.
The main disagreements have to do with the role of government, and the role of our country in the world.
Some people think that The Constitution is pretty good, and that the limits it puts on what government should do make sense. Others think that The Constitution was fine once, but hinders government‘s ability to help people.
So, some people think we should be taken care of, and some people think we should take care of ourselves. Most people fall in the middle.
As a member of the world community, some people think we should intervene anywhere in the world where there is unfairness, while others think we should look inward and solve the problems we have at home. It’s complicated, what with evolving international friends and enemies, and bad-guys who we rely on to help us against worse-guys.
Then we have sex and drugs, crime and violence, private property and “the greater good.” There are lots of issues that reasonable people can disagree about. And, there are issues that many people are absolutely inflexible about, and always will be.
Sadly, some elected office gives people power and influence and wealth. So, in order to get or keep those offices, some politicians will say or do almost anything, no matter how abhorrent it is, to protect that power and wealth.
As citizens, we have to try to sort through all of this and pick the candidates who seem to share more of our ideas and principles, and seem to be good people. It isn’t easy, but it’s our job.
Our state and country have done pretty well over the years, due to the judgement of people like you who make their decisions and vote. Good luck in sorting through the mess to find the right people in this election.
There may be an unlimited number of dumb jokes that start with “Three men walk into a bar…” Many of them specify something about the men, like “a lawyer, an engineer, and a cowboy walk into a bar.”
Maybe it is because we still have religious freedom in our country, but a common joke starter is, “A priest, a rabbi, and a Muslim cleric walk into a bar…” Of course, the Muslim fellow wouldn’t walk into a bar, but it’s best not to be too picky when it comes to jokes.
This is all to set-up my experience in an airport Sunday night. Within ten minutes I saw not a priest, but a nun – complete with habit – two Hasidic Jewish men, and an Islamic woman. What are the chances?
One of the Jewish men sat in the row across from me on the incoming plane. It was interesting that with his bushy beard, large brimmed black hat, and the curled hair over his sideburns, he was checking his smart phone and speaking with a man near him about motorcycles. I guess that was interesting to me because of my ignorance as to what Hasidic Jews are all about.
As we left the airplane in Minneapolis, a Muslim woman in appropriate garb stood in the jet bridge behind a wheelchair as she waited for a person who needed a ride. As one of the Jewish men walked past her I saw that they looked at each other, and I only wondered what went through their minds, given the way things are in the world.
The nun, who I saw a few minutes later, was in a white, old-school habit, and was having a lively chat with some friends. I know nuns walk among us all the time, but it seems that very few wear the traditional clothing these days.
As far as I know, at no time during the evening did any or all of the religious figures I described end up walking into a bar. Maybe in my imagination they did, only because there would probably have been a pretty good punchline involved.
But, since they didn’t, I’ll leave you with a different bar joke. A man walked out of a bar one summer afternoon and saw a grasshopper on the sidewalk. The man said, “Hey little guy! I just had a drink named after you.”
The grasshopper looked up at the man with a puzzled expression and said, “You had a drink named Irving?”
While driving between appointments last week, I couldn’t help but notice all the campaign signs. They really stand out in the open country of Eastern Washington state.
Here’s something that I noticed: Most female candidates displayed their first name in very large letters, and their last names in small letters. Most male candidates did the opposite.
It might have been a coincidence, but something tells me that researchers and consultants have figured out that to some voters, a female name is more memorable and/or more important to their voting decision than the person’s last name.
Nancy and Susan and Beth may be highly qualified for the various offices they seek, but it seems that the very clear indication of their genders is seen as an advantage.
That got me thinking. Would people vote for a person because she is a woman? Is that any different from voting against someone because he is a man?
It’s not a very clear issue, is it? Some people say that legislative bodies should have more women because their experiences and personality characteristics would bring more diversity to those bodies.
Others say that taking gender into account doesn’t make sense, any more than taking race or height or religious persuasion into account.
How about people who are disabled or very young or very old or claim a non-traditional gender designation? Very few poor people hold office. They would surely see some things differently than those with some wealth.
If my name were Judy and I were running for office, I’d want you to vote for me, but I think I would be disappointed if you voted for me because most Judys are women, and not because of my background, experience, capabilities, philosophy, and stands on the issues.
Likewise, I’d be very disappointed if you voted against me because my name was Judy.
In our state we have a Leah running against a Tammy for senate, so there’s little danger of gender being a factor in that race.
With all the meanness of politics, maybe women’s name seem friendlier. Actually, some men’s names are friendly too. In fact, I wonder if Tommy Thompson was governor for so long because “Tommy” is such a friendly name?
My advice? Read what you can from the candidate’s web sites, don’t watch or listen to commercial television so you can avoid all the nasty ads, and use your best judgement when you vote.
(Written around the time of the Kavanaugh hearings)
In 2000 Illinois governor George Ryan put a moratorium on executions in that state, commuting 160 death sentences to life behind bars. Then in 2011 Governor Pat Ryan abolished the death penalty. A Republican and a Democrat, they agreed that the death penalty had the potential to put innocent people to death.
The Innocence Project, founded in 1992, works to investigate the cases of, particularly, death-row inmates to see if justice had been badly served. Using modern DNA technology, they have exonerated 362 “guilty” people, and identified 158 alternate perpetrators.
For those of us who would like to believe that our justice system is mostly fair, it is shocking to know that prior to the year 2000 some – maybe many—people were put to death unfairly.
Our system demands that people be proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, and that at the onset of every trial, defendants are considered innocent until their guilt is proven. Even with that high standard, innocent people are convicted.
In each case, I assume there were witnesses who testified to the defendants’ guilt. I’d bet that most of them thought they were being truthful. The human memory is far from perfect, after all. That’s one reason defendants are promised a speedy trial, though that’s a subjective term.
Here in 2018 we find ourselves in a bit of a conflict. There is a school of thought that demands women who claim that men have abused them in some way must be believed. It doesn’t matter if the woman is miss-remembering or even lying. Women must be believed.
The men who are accused are considered guilty until proven innocent, and the women are assumed to be telling the truth – even if their “truth” is the result of repressed memory therapy or apocryphal recollections.
Too many men abuse or assault women. That number should be zero. Sometimes a strong case can be made against the man, and sometimes there is a “she says/he says” battle. A woman coming forward to report a sexual assault should be respected and empathized with, but belief needs to come with proof.
No matter who the accuser and accused are, or what their politics are, both deserve a fair hearing without pre-conceived notions. Being falsely accused and convicted – even in the court of public opinion – isn’t right, even if the death penalty isn’t the ultimate consequence. Ruining a person’s reputation unfairly is unforgivable.
I feel that I need to preface a story like this with the fact that I am very aware that the problems I face most days are miniscule by comparison to those of 90% of the people in the world. That’s a made-up percentage, but I’ll stand by it.
That being said, some days have more than their share of speed bumps and, if a person can keep his or her sense of humor, some days can make a pretty good story.
Last week I had some meetings in Louisiana – the state named after Louise. Or Anna. Or neither.
The journey there was cramped, as I was “upgraded” to a window seat next to a very broad-shouldered gentleman. I was, as scientists say, “squished.”
Arriving at New Orleans, I called the hotel for a shuttle ride. I was put on hold. Fifteen minutes later I hung up and called again, and was told I just missed the shuttle. Twenty minutes later another arrived.
I checked into my room to find that the television didn’t work. I haven’t been watching much lately, so I should have just lived with it, but I felt like being entertained. After calling the desk repeatedly and getting no answer, I stopped by on my way out to dinner to let the woman know. She said she would get right on it.
When I returned from dinner (smoked ribs that were a lot like rib-jerky) the TV still didn’t work. More calls to the desk. Eventually, Joel was sent to my room.
After a few moments he made his diagnosis. “It’s broken” he said. He would go to the front desk to arrange for another room. Time passed. I got older. No call.
Eventually I gathered up my things and went to the desk and waited my turn. Soon I was sent to a new room that had a working TV. I watched something unimportant. I saw by the bedside alarm clock that it was late, and turned in for the night.
The next morning I awoke, and, seeing the time, hustled out of bed and down to breakfast. When I arrived in the lobby, I was surprised to see that it was actually 5:15am. The clock in my room was two hours fast. So, I sat and read until the breakfast room opened at 6am.
Most travel I do goes pretty well, and nothing I’ve told you about that day last week is horrible. It’s funny, though, that things seem to go wrong in groups. I guess keeping a sense of humor is the only way to make lemonade out of the lemons.
The year 1968 has become famous and infamous because of what happened back then. Parallels probably exist with 2018. For example, the political world is equally crazy as in 1968, and for the first time in years people are again talking about going to the moon.
According to www.thepeoplehistory.com, things cost less back then, but of course we made less money too. The average new house cost just under $15,000, and the average income was $7,800. The average car cost less than $3,000. You can add a zero to each of those numbers and be in the neighborhood of today’s prices and income.
Russia is in the news today. In 1968 the USSR (run by Russia) invaded and took over Czechoslovakia because the Communist Party there was allowing too much freedom. Now Russia is in Syria, Iran, Ukraine, and elsewhere, and flying military jets into British and US airspace. They also seem to enjoy creating chaos in our country, as they did in 1968.
The President, a Supreme Court Nominee and that nominee’s accuser have gotten death threats in 2018. In 1968, Robert Kennedy and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. were killed. It would have been nice to turn away from violence, but I guess that’s wishful thinking.
There were riots and protests in 1968 over civil rights and the Viet Nam war. These days there are riots over black, Hispanic, and women’s lives mattering and Antifa, which is supposedly anti-fascist, but which behaves in a fascist way.
Interestingly, there was a Trudeau running Canada back in 1986, and there’s one now as well. In 1968 both air-bags and the 911 system happened. Now people text while they’re driving and need to take advantage of both those safety measures.
In 1968 the border between Spain and Gibraltar was closed, and in 2018 we’re debating whether to secure our southern border. Columbia University was occupied by students over the defense work being done therein 1968. In 2018, students are fighting for the right to not allow speakers who have different views than theirs to speak on campus.
In 1968 France became the 5th nuclear power. Today we’re watching North Korea and Iran move towards that status. Also, in 1968 North Korea stole the USS Pueblo from international waters. Just last week there was talk about trying to get the ship back.
So, I guess there are lots of differences between then and now, but there are also a surprising number of themes that seem still to be happening. I won’t be around in 2068, fifty years from now, but I wonder what will have changed, and what will remain.
Old sayings are often useful tools to advise us as we slog through our daily lives. Sometimes, though, they appear to be more useful than they really are.
One such saying, “Don’t judge a book by its cover” is helpful in encouraging us to look deeper into books, people, etc. It is also a little bit dumb.
Personally, if I am looking over a bunch of books, I find the covers to be really helpful in knowing what is likely to be inside the book. It isn’t a certainty that a book with a buxom woman spilling out of a torn dress as a very manly man smirks behind her will contain a “bodice ripper” novel, but it isn’t likely to contain household tips either.
The book by its cover admonition is mostly intended to encourage us not to quickly judge people we see based on their clothing, skin color, or other such surface attributes. Rather, we should get to know the person before judging them.
First of all, who are we to judge people? Second of all, I believe that some people try very hard to appear a certain way, almost begging to be judged.
I saw a sixty-something man the other day with long hair, jeans, a sport coat, and a big, floppy hat with a large feather in it. There. See? You just judged him. Why? Because everything I told you about him, other than his age, was a conscious choice he made.
Tattoos and piercings are very common in this era. Still, to get a tattoo on one’s face or neck dares people to notice and judge. Some people might judge that individual as being heroically brave, while someone else may judge them as not having very good sense.
I have a niece who is a business woman who dresses in the “Goth” style all the time. She would be easy to judge. I should also mention, though, that she collects Pillsbury Doughboy items. Tee-hee!
Now and then someone dressed and groomed to resemble a cross between a poet and a homeless person will speak up to say, “Hey man: don’t judge me by how I look!” My response (in my head) is, “Then, don’t look like that.”
Showing up for a job interview wearing a t-shirt, attending the opera wearing a baseball cap, or going to church with a halter top are all likely to incur some judgement, but it seems to me that the judgers share responsibility with the judged in those cases.
I guess maybe judging books by their covers is likely to happen. It’s human nature, and not a terrible idea most of the time. A good plan might be to think about what we’re doing that contributes to people judging us on one hand, and trying not to let first impressions prevent us from looking deeper on the other.
Everyone should say something memorable in their lives. John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, 1st Baron Acton, a British historian, once said this: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” I’m sure he said other things that were memorable, but that statement never seems to get old.
Powerful authority figures in churches, education, show business, business, and politics seem more likely than the average Joe or Josephine to get caught in some sort of corruption or another. Often it seems to involve sex, sometimes money, and sometimes taking more power.
Part of that quote that some people fail to say is the “tends to” part. I don’t think all powerful people are corrupt, and maybe not even most of them. But, if you wanted to do really bad things, power and wealth must make it easier.
The “Me Too” movement has been a thorn in the side of some powerful people who used their power to take advantage of people. The Catholic Church has been struggling with an endless parade of scandals as far back as I can remember that involve priests using their power over young people, and The Church using its power to shield them.
Schools have experienced what seems to be growing numbers of teachers and coaches using their power to compromise students. Maybe the numbers are the same, but more cases are being reported. I don’t know. It also seems that most of those cases that hit the media involve women teachers – often married women. That’s a puzzle.
Power allows a person to make things happen. They can be selfish, immoral things, or they can be good things. The generosity of the powerful has made life better for countless millions of people around the world. Ironically, sometimes the great good and great evil come from the same powerful people.
I guess that’s it, isn’t it? Good and evil exist in all of us, and sometimes winning that battle is a struggle. Imagine how you’d react if there were no consequences of your actions. There are those who say that the diminished role of religion, and the fire and brimstone it promises for the evil ones, has led to a society where evil is becoming more common.
Maybe seeing powerful people taken to task for their wrongdoing will send a message to other powerful folks that bad, corrupt behavior does have consequences, and that they need to cut it out.
There’s no denying it: after Labor Day weekend summer is over. It’s true that it doesn’t really end for a few more weeks, but practically speaking, summer’s fun and frolic is confined to weekends after Labor Day as children and teachers are in school and business people are back from annual vacations.
This year the leaves haven’t really started to yellow yet, due to all the rain. The temperatures aren’t autumn-like yet. The only tell-tale signs of fall are the angle of the sun, the shortening of the daylight, and the ever-present crickets.
As a kid, I enjoyed going back to school. It was good to see friends that weren’t from my neighborhood, good to play at recess, and good to have those few days where I wasn’t hopelessly behind in math class.
These days there really isn’t anything comparable to going back to school for me. No recess, but then again, no math class either. But, despite the fact that nothing much really changes after Labor Day for me at this stage of my life, it feels different.
Seeing the school bus a couple of times per day brings back memories of seeing our two little girls waiting for it in the early morning light, backpacks in hand. The Friday night football games don’t feel quite right yet as the tropical weather and mosquitoes hold sway. That’ll change to cold and windy before the season ends.
This year there is a special reminder of fall coming. The November election has spawned political commercials to convince us not to vote for certain candidates with maybe a few ads suggesting we vote for someone.
Halloween merchandise has been in the stores for a while already with the Christmas merchandise poised for its invasion.
Those of us who garden will keep our radar on for the first frost, which sounds almost comical today, with a high of 86 degrees expected.
All these changes come around every year, and in spring they happen in reverse. It seems like the older a person gets the less those changes should surprise us, but in a way they become more noticeable. Maybe it is because we have figured out that these ends of summer don’t go on forever – at least not for each of us. If we’re lucky, we might get 100 day after labor days.
So, my thought is to revel in the warmth while we’ve got it, to welcome the cold when it comes, and not to let commercialism or politics get in my way as I enjoy these seasons.
George Thorogood and the Destroyers aren’t known for having lots of hits, but the one almost everybody knows is their song, “Bad To The Bone.” It turns out that George isn’t the only one who is that bad.
First, I should say that much of my life has been spent trying not to get in trouble. That means either not doing bad things or not getting caught at them. I’ve been pretty successful at both.
Most adults don’t worry about getting in trouble, but that fear has lingered through adulthood and into my last third of life. Maybe I’m afraid there really is a “permanent record.”
Well, I’ve broken out of my shell. I have been banned from a social media site. No, not Facebook or Twitter. I’m banned from Linkedin.
For those who don’t know, Linkedin is a site focused on business and careers. Like Facebook, people invite others to “link-in” with them, and share news and ideas of note. It’s not political or cat video oriented.
Here’s what happened. Every day Linkedin offers users photos and brief profiles of people they think you might know, based on the other people you know. You are really only supposed to link-in to people you actually know, though most people will ask to link-in to people who know other people they know.
So, when you get that list of people you might know, you can either ask to link to them or dismiss them. Either choice takes just a click to accomplish.
Well, my friends, I had a lot of people to whom I was linked, so each day I’d get 30 or 40 suggestions of people I might know. Since it’s easy to decide if you know somebody or not, I’d click, click, click away the people I didn’t know.
Lo and behold the folks (or computers) at Linkedin sent me an email warning me to stop using automation to go through so many profiles at too high of a speed. I ignored the warning since it’s impossible to stop doing something you’re not doing. I got another warning. Same thing.
Then I got the kiss of death. Banned for life. No chance to talk to a person or explain that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. To them I am bad to the bone. A threat to society. A nare-do-well.
It’s frustrating, but it’s their company and they can do what they want. Fortunately I had printed out a list of all the people I was linked to before the ax fell.
So, I strongly encourage you to watch out for me. I am a known rule breaker. And I’m bad to the bone.
The question, “What was that?” can have two meanings. One is asking for clarification on something that has just been seen or just happened. The other is a way of asking someone to repeat what they’ve said, because while the listener heard it, it didn’t make sense. This is about the latter.
News item: Two drivers on Interstate 5 near Sacramento, California had a dispute. They decided to fight. One of them had a baseball bat which he used to kill the other motorist. His victory, though, was short lived, as he was struck by a passing car and killed. The driver who killed him (accidentally, I assume) was arrested, and resisted arrest. Nice folks.
News item: A few weeks ago a man in Bayonne, New Jersey decided to rob a bank, but changed his mind after he had already given his “Give me all your money” note to a teller. So, he grabbed the note back (not before the teller saw his message) and then said he wanted to open a new account. He didn’t have proper ID, so he was denied that request, and walked out.
News item from http://www.vice.com: “Two weeks after Renard Matthews was tragically shot and killed in his New Orleans neighborhood, the 18-year-old looked exactly how he had in life. At his wake, he lay slumped in an office chair in front of a TV “playing” NBA2K with his hands wrapped around a PS4 controller. Clad in sunglasses, socks and flip-flops, and a Celtics jersey, he even had his favorite snacks—Doritos and root beer—within reach. And that’s just how the family wanted it.”
News Item: A killer whale near Vancouver dragged a sailboat around for a while before crashing it into another sailboat. It sounds like a really good game for an orca. Not so good for sailors.
News Item: A nine year-old Monroe, North Carolina boy who had a lemonade stand was robbed at gunpoint. The felon got away with $20 or so. The kid was back selling lemonade the next day.
News Item: 1,000 crocodiles are now homeless after a tourist attraction in Israel closed. They are going to need some help making their signs.
That’s enough. Strange things happen every day, I guess. Since the day I ran over my wallet with my riding lawn mower, I’m open to the possibility that almost anything can happen.
Probably because of our country’s ugly legacy of slavery, and the sloooooooow progress towards fairness and equality for all races, it’s really unnerving to be accused of being a racist.
Here is the primary definition Webster uses for Racism: “A belief that race is the primary determinant of human traits and capacities and racial differences produce an inherent superiority of a particular race.”
I don’t know about you, but I sure can’t think of many people I know who have those beliefs. Fifty years ago, yes, but these days if there are people nearby who think those things, they keep it to themselves.
Sometimes we’re so careful not to be racist that we aren’t logical. For example, in the State Journal a while ago, there was a report of two males of around age twenty, one with a blue shirt and the other with a red shirt, who were wanted for a crime. I think the fear of appearing racist precluded the paper from including the race of those young men, whatever it was.
Interestingly, a group like Black Lives Matter isn’t thought to be racist, but a group called White Lives Matter would be. I get it, of course, that young black men in particular have real issues with police authority – problems that need to be worked out. But, still…
I am a tall, balding white guy. I have a brother-in-law who is a tall, balding black guy. In a family picture, that’s one way you can tell us apart. That’s not racist, is it?
I also don’t think it is racist to report on Asian, black, and Hispanic unemployment or crime. After all, it is the government that really wants to know your race on every form you are asked to fill out.
Look: if you deny someone a fair chance at a job because they’re a certain race, you’re behaving in a racist way – even if you’re a good guy and donate to the United Negro College Fund. I think you need to look closely at your beliefs.
If you hire somebody because they’re a certain race, that may be well-intentioned, but it’s possibly also a little racist, even though Affirmative Action laws encourage it.
How you feel about race isn’t my business. It is actions that do good or harm. I go out of my way to be friendly to people of different races. You can say that by giving them special treatment I’m being racist, and you’re entitled to your opinion.
If a smile can make anybody’s day a little better, I’m not going to worry about my motivations.
I may be exaggerating, but I think it has been over a year since I last looked at my Twitter account – at least until today. Strangely, I didn’t feel any major consequences from just ignoring Twitter. It didn’t ignore me. It sent me daily emails suggesting that I log in to look, but I didn’t. Not until… well, you know.
What I found when I looked at my Twitter page was several really nasty tweets (not addressed to me specifically) that led me to block those people. Sadly, they were people I once had good feelings about. And, in case you wonder if I was “triggered,” it wasn’t that I disagreed with their position, but rather that I don’t think there’s a place for foul language or personal insults in such a forum as Twitter.
I also found a lot of tweets that were actually of a promotional nature. That’s fine, but not interesting to me.
The account I looked at today was my work account. I still haven’t looked at my personal Twitter account. I may do that later this week since my curiosity is piqued.
Here’s something I’ve noticed about my Facebook, Twitter, and Linkedin accounts: while many people have accepted my request to connect with or “follow” them, I have received very few requests. I’ll bet the ratio is 50:1.
That goes for people I know professionally, in the community, or from my childhood and adolescent years. In a way, I feel like I’ve invited myself over for dinner for all those people I requested to connect with. They were okay to have me over but wouldn’t have thought to call and invite me.
One reason for that is probably that I’m not a highly social person. I’ve always had a small group of friends and an aversion to the kinds of activities that many people enjoy. I don’t hunt, I fish only occasionally, I don’t golf, and I’m rarely in bars. Just call me Mr. Excitement.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m mostly happy with the way things are. It’s the social media connections disparity that got my attention.
Someone I know left Facebook for a year, and I admire her for that. I wonder if that wouldn’t be a good idea for me as well. Social media gives you virtual friends. And, as it turns out, virtual reality isn’t really reality at all. It’s just virtual. I may need more real time with real people.
So, I think it’s time for some dinner gatherings. I’ll be over at 5:30.
The other day I was walking towards my car after lunch, and went past a fellow who was pacing back and forth and talking on his cell phone. He was quite intense.
After I got in the car, I watched him for a minute while I got belted in, and I heard him say this: “You know, it’s my legacy!”
Of course, I don’t know what he was talking about, but he was very passionate about whatever it was. He seemed to be a tradesman – perhaps an electrician or a carpenter. I don’t think he was even 40 years-old.
I wondered, as I drove away, what it was that he saw as his legacy. I also wondered a little bit about what mine might be. Or yours. Or anyone’s.
I guess a legacy is whatever we think it is. There was a fellow up north near Phillips, Wisconsin who built a park out of figures made from concrete and pieces of glass. It’s called the Concrete Park. Definitely his legacy.
People build businesses and with them they create jobs and products and services people want. Sometimes their name is the name of the company, and with it their legacy.
Presidents talk about their legacies, but it seems that historians make the final determination for them. Athletes leave legacies in the records they set, but also in how generous or kind or philandering they were.
My in-laws raised nine kids, and they sure could be considered a legacy. My father-in-law also turned his acre or so of yard into what looks like a park by planting many dozens of trees. That’s a legacy.
My father loved planting trees too. He bought some land and planted thousands of trees by hand, blending them in with the existing forest. He had many things to be proud about, but his conservation work meant a lot to him.
From my own perspective I think about things I’ve written, the family I’ve been a part of, and little things like the day our two out of each summer that the garden looks really good.
The more I ponder the idea of legacy, the more I think it isn’t any one thing. Each of us makes a legacy out of every hour of every day of every month of every year. When we screw up, or when we do something great, those are contributions to what our legacy becomes.
Our legacies are a combination of accomplishments and regrets, but mostly they are the adjectives people use to describe us now, and when we’re gone. “He is a caring boss.” “He was a good guy.” “She is a very kind woman.” “He was a lazy man.”
Maybe the best legacy sounds something like this: “She did the best he could.”
Conspiracies are not new. Ask Julius Cesar. Oh wait… he’s dead. Killed by a conspiracy. The Miriam Webster dictionary defines a conspiracy as: “to join in a secret agreement to do an unlawful act.” I’ll bet there is a conspiracy happening right now within walking distance of where you are. I guess it depends how far you can walk.
According to Time Magazine, these are the ten most popular conspiracy theories:
The JFK Assassination
9/11 Coverup
Area 51 and the Aliens
Paul (McCartney) is Dead
Secret Societies Control the World
The Moon Landings Were Faked
Jesus and Mary Magdalene Were Married
Holocaust Revisionism
The CIA Caused AIDS
The Reptilian Elite (Lizards masquerade as powerful people)
Looking at that list, you may see some that you believe to be true, and others that seem ridiculous. The problem is, we might not agree on which are which.
Some, like the theory that Paul McCartney died in 1966 while the other Beatles covered up his death, seem silly. Most Christians find the idea that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married equally silly, but some people think it’s true.
The moon landing took place on a Hollywood set. The Holocaust never happened. The CIA caused AIDS. To most people, these theories seem implausible.
The thing is, people do conspire with each other to do bad things. So, some conspiracy theories really are true. Usually, I suspect, they aren’t, and it doesn’t matter if you hear them from people with aluminum foil hats on, or from breathless “experts” on television or radio.
I was thinking about what makes a good conspiracy theory. Here are a few characteristics:
It provides answers to questions that seem unanswerable given the information we have.
It reinforces the “us versus them” instinct.
It reinforces our notions about the rich, the powerful, or the government.
It denies the possibility of coincidence.
The government/Twitter/Youtube/Facebook won’t let the information out.
It is difficult to prove or disprove.
People who believe in the conspiracy are like a club or a family.
Now, all that being said, all of the above can apply to a given conspiracy theory which turns out to be true!
Mostly, I have the policy of not taking a stand on the veracity of conspiracy theories, because just when I’m sure one isn’t true, it’ll turn out that it is really happening.
Wouldn’t it be something if the real conspiracy was to get people all wrapped up in conspiracy theories so they wouldn’t notice what was really happening? That’s what they want us to think!
I ordered a sandwich and a small drink. The fellow behind the counter asked if a medium sized drink would be okay.
That’s where I should have just said “yes.”
Instead I asked how many sizes they had. He explained that they had two sizes.
I then said, “If you only have two sizes you have a large and a small. You can’t have a medium with two sizes.”
He looked at me with the expression of someone who hadn’t been having a particularly great day up to that point, and whose day hadn’t improved with my discourse on cup sizes. I paid, thanked him, got my medium (so-called) cup, and shuffled off to wait for my lunch, feeling a little like a know-it-all.
I regretted my comment a little. But, it wasn’t the first time.
A few years ago a grocery store got new aisle signs indicating what a shopper would find in each aisle. One such sign included “bar soup” as something available in that aisle. I pointed out to a manager that, unless there was a new kind of soup on the market, perhaps the sign should have read “bar soap.”
He looked and politely agreed. I’m sure he would just as happily not have known about it. A year later it was fixed.
More than once I’ve mentioned to clothing store staff that the sign saying “Mens” is not correct. Since the word men is already plural, adding an s to it is wrong, unless the apostrophe precedes the s, making it a possessive. So, the signs that say “mens” are wrong, and I have been obnoxious for pointing it out.
The thing is, it really is obnoxious to point out such things. I’m sure that, psychologically, it’s my inner self trying to make me look smart when all indications are to the contrary. A better strategy would be to notice such things and chuckle and otherwise to keep quiet.
Comedian Ron White famously says in one of his routines that when he was in the process of being arrested he had the right to remain silent… but not the ability.
If you are like me (you have my condolences), you probably haven’t written a letter to anyone for a while. The advent of email started the decline in letter writing and text messages have continued the process.
Like so many things about new technologies, there are good and bad things about the way we used to do things and the ways we do them now. Letters on paper are great, but it takes a real effort to write a letter (legibly), address the envelope, find a stamp, and mail it. An email or a text can be done almost effortlessly, in no time at all, and it gets delivered instantly, unlike a mailed letter that will get there in a few days.
Ironically, one of the best things about written letters is that they do take real effort. Unlike a text that can be accomplished while seated on the toilet (I know. Awful, right?), a letter involves finding note paper, a clear spot on a desk, a pen or pencil, and some dedicated time. The recipient will know that your letter took some effort and will appreciate it.
Another great thing about written letters is that you have the opportunity for a do-over. Let’s say you are upset with someone and decide to let them know. An email or a text allows you to channel your unhappiness efficiently and effectively into a “nasty-gram” that gets your point across, but perhaps in a way you’ll later regret.
A letter, on the other hand, is the result of a process which has several moments during which you can have second thoughts, or at least a thought.
Handwriting is a real issue. Mine is a barely passable hybrid of cursive writing and printing. Some people have beautiful cursive writing, which I admire. Some writing is baffling. Doctors have that reputation.
Sadly, new generations aren’t being taught cursive, so we may as well write letters using Morse code.
As a kid the daily arrival of the mailman (now called mail person) was a big deal, even though most days there were no letters for me. Now any actual letter helps to balance off the bills and fundraising requests.
One of my resolutions this year was to write more letters. The year is nearly half over, so I guess it’s time to start. Now how do I hold this pen again?
Did you ever stop to think about clapping? Imagine you were from some other planet, and while you were visiting Earth you took time off to see a show of some sort. The lights dim, the curtains go up, and suddenly everyone in the audience starts beating up their left hands with their right hands. The resulting sound is like a driving rain on a metal roof.
I think clapping is weird. Oh, I do it, because that’s what humans do, but it is weird. I’m sure not all human cultures embrace clapping, but use some other means of supportive noise making.
My guess is that clapping won a competition among noises people can make with their bodies. Maybe belly slapping came in second. Foot stamping must have been a competitor, along with head thumping. Each had shortcomings, sadly, so clapping hands together won the prize of being the universal way to show appreciation.
Of course, for some people clapping just isn’t enough. Whistles, “whoo -hoo” sounds and various shouts punctuate some crowd applause. A while back I was at a concert and a guy behind me seemed compelled to be the first and last person to clap between songs, and also to be the one who said “yeah” or “all-right!” I think he may have been a little needy.
Clapping for movies always seemed a little useless, since the cast and crew that made the film are generally not at the 4pm show in Johnson Creek. What that activity shows me is that clapping is partly for the person we’re appreciating, but mostly because it makes us feel good. Imagine: we get to vote, basically, for the performer we’re clapping for. And, maybe more importantly, when we clap with a crowd we are celebrating our membership in that group. Were a part of something, and it’s special, even if our membership resonates only at a sub-conscious level.
So to review: clapping is weird, yet fun. Other body noises may not be appropriate at an event, and don’t be the first and last to clap.
At this point you should feel free to express your appreciation for these words in any way you wish. Well, maybe not with a body noise…
I’ve mentioned before that at our house we’re on a quest to have less stuff. So, in occasional waves of diligence, we sort through things to decide what to keep, what to throw away, and what to give away. You’d think it would be easy.
Most recently our books have come under the sifting and winnowing process.
Even in the digital age, books are important to us. We have more books that a lot of people, but not nearly as many as some people have. We’ve read a lot of them, and plan to read many that we’ve bought but put aside.
A lot of the books are reference books, or non-fiction books on topics that interest one or both of us, but not enough to have opened them so far.
All material things can be seen from a practical perspective and an emotional perspective. From the practical side, we can debate whether something we haven’t used for a while might be useful in the future. From the emotional side, things that really aren’t necessary to keep might carry memories that are too deep to cast aside.
Books can really carry a lot of emotional weight. A good story brings the characters into your life so that you really care about them. Just picking up a favorite book can warm us with memories of the enjoyment we had reading it.
Even textbooks – in my experience the least likely to ever be opened again – are a link to those wacky college years and all those experiences and are tough to give away.
Books also reflect to visitors to one’s house something of who we are and what we’re about. Proudly displaying Mad Magazine copies might not be the wisest choice for the living room bookshelf.
The key factor in evaluating our books is the question of whether they can be useful to someone else. Perhaps a school library, or a literacy center. The American Library Association website has a page (libguides.ala.org/book-donations) that provides lots of information on places who accept books. One I hadn’t thought of that makes a lot of sense is prisons.
In the end, I think we’ll have jettisoned a lot of things without much value to us or anyone else. We’ll donate some books that might benefit someone down the line. And, those books we keep will be there if we choose to read, or re-read them, or just to remind us of that cold January where they warmed us with their stories.
Digital literature and reference sources are all well and good, but we think that sometimes there’s nothing quite like holding a book.
Last week I happened to be in Philadelphia when President Trump un-invited the Eagles’ players from what was to have been a White House photo op. It was said that only 10 or so players were planning to go, so canceling was understandable. It isn’t unusual. In recent years it has become common for some players to decline a presidential visit.
I’ve been giving some thought to the muddle of issues involved. It’s my opinion that the kneelers are well-intentioned, hoping to draw attention to the important issue of bias in law enforcement. They aren’t meaning to disrespect veterans, in my view, but in the eyes of many they do.
So, attendance and viewership is down for the NFL. Some players have lost endorsement deals, and others have been put in the position of supporting teammates’ actions, even though they don’t agree with them.
The idea of Black Lives Matter is a good one, at its core. Having one black kid shot by police is a tragedy, and the families and communities are quick to react with anger. Sometimes the police can demonstrate justification for their actions, and sometimes they can’t. If it were my son, no amount of explanation would be enough, and I understand the anger that results.
Kneeling during the National Anthem might bring awareness but bringing police and communities together to learn ways to coexist would be more effective. Such efforts are happening every day, and in fact I’d bet a nickel that there are NFL players who participate.
We’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover (though that seems to be the best possible way, other than reading the book), but headlines serve the purpose of piquing our interest in the story that follows. Sometimes the headline misrepresents the actual article, but headlines are a help in deciding to read what follows or to look elsewhere.
One website I like to look at compiles news stories from around the world each day, and while the headline writer clearly likes to tweak potential readers, they are mostly pretty fair. Here are examples from Monday. I didn’t read any of the actual articles until I was done writing the following.
“Supremes: You don’t have to bake that cake.” Of course, they’re not talking about Diana Ross and friends, but the Supreme Court and their gay wedding cake ruling.
“Teen dies after penis ripped off by shark.” Nearly one-half of America doubled over in empathetic pain after reading that one.
“Too much bad news can make you sick.” I don’t doubt it. Half the time it’s a wonder we’re all up and moving around.
“Taliban reveals new punk-rock uniforms.” What?
“Japanese politicians join forces to allow babies to cry in public.” So, if you don’t mind my asking, exactly who was going to stop babies from crying in public?
“Summer of knife mayhem.” Well, so much for gun control.
“Cancer preventing pizza.” I’m not eating kale on my pizza.
“Deodorant made from whiskey, vodka.” I’ll have a double.
“Bigfoot in Kentucky? No doubt say believers.” Probably because he knows there are no sharks in Kentucky.
“Bill Clinton ‘Me too’ (I was victim).” Sure. Why not?
“Google apologizes for labeling senator ‘bigot’ in search.” Some people are just overly sensitive.
“First female driver’s license issued in Saudi.” I think the driver is the female, not the license.
“Nearly half of Bay area residents want to leave.” I just hope they don’t all leave their hearts.
Anyway, those are some of Monday’s headlines. Most of them seem impossible, but that’s just because life has become so strange. Of course, there are still some normal headlines with normal news about volcanoes and the economy and such. But who has time for that news when Big Foot is in Kentucky with Bill Clinton and some deodorant.
Yes, we’ve had some hot weather already this pre-summer. Some years it scarcely makes it into the 90s, and already we’ve had numerous days that have been around the mid-90s.
I generally don’t mind hot weather, as long as I don’t need to do anything. People who work outside during hot weather have my sympathy and respect. Carpenters, roofers, highway construction workers, and even lifeguards who, if things go well, mostly sit, but still bake under that oven above.
Thinking back to my humble beginnings, our house in Oshkosh didn’t have air conditioning, and had virtually no insulation. Fortunately, it was a shady lot.
Each spring my dad would install a machine that was part window fan and part jet engine. The idea was that it would pull the hot air from all over the house out through the kitchen window while pulling in the cool night air to replace it. I admit that it did a pretty good job of it, but if the nighttime air was still hot, it didn’t help much at all. And, the fan was known to sometimes grab the long hair of my sisters if they got too close.
Our house had been a duplex, and as such there were two large screen porches; one for each floor. They provided some respite from the stale (my parents both smoked) inside air.
Back then I did plenty of nothing on hot days, but also played baseball or tennis. Something about being young made the temperature less important when it came to sports. We went everywhere on our bikes and that allowed us to make our own wind.
My dad would take us swimming, either at the Lake Winnebago beach or the Fox River beach. The water wasn’t very clean, but the good news was that we didn’t know how badly the water had been polluted. We didn’t grow any extra limbs, so that was good.
In those days I only knew a couple of people with air conditioning. I never considered that my family would ever get it. In fact, when my parents built their “retirement home” years later they had only a window unit which they used grudgingly because of the cost.
One nice memory I have of hot summer days is sitting at the dining room table, not far from the dreaded fan, and playing cards with my mom. That happened maybe ten times over the years, and yet I remember those times very clearly.
It’s trite to say that hot days – all days, really – were simpler then. It’s also true.
Pets are great. We’ve had dogs and cats over the years, and they really add something to our lives. In exchange, we take care of them by giving them food and water and providing veterinary care when it’s needed. Most pets are kept in our homes, and in our hearts.
There is one category of pets that don’t add a thing to our lives. Pet peeves. I should know; I’ve got plenty of them.
Like regular pets, sometimes we feed and care for our pet peeves, letting them have a little too much power in our lives.
Recently a Facebook group asked folks to submit their least favorite words. Plenty of people responded, and some had several words to list. Some of the words submitted were commonly misused or mispronounced words like “supposably,” “conversating,” and “expresso.”
Other nonsensical words and phrases cited were “irregardless,” “very unique,” and “all intensive purposes” (all intents and purposes).
The submissions included words and phrases the peeved person is apparently tired of hearing. That list includes “it is what it is” which is both ubiquitous and means nothing, “make America great again,” and “awesome” which should be, but isn’t, reserved for truly amazing things.
It occurred to me as I reviewed the words that were submitted that while each word peeve was justified, some of it was just snobbishness of a sort. Take “supposably.” Somebody who doesn’t read much might miss-hear that word “supposedly.” The same could apply to “all intensive purposes.”
The people using these words incorrectly aren’t necessarily unintelligent. They may be very skilled in other areas. I’m pretty good with words but working with electricity would (and has) provided moments of hilarity to people who come to fix what I’ve done. There’s nothing like having someone say “Did you see what some idiot did with this outlet?” when you are standing right there.
The thing about pet peeves – be they words or other kinds – is that they belong to us just as real pets do. Rather than providing comfort, though, they provide nothing. In fact, it’s possible to miss out on useful information because of how it is communicated. Judging an idea as being dumb because someone misuses a word might be a mistake.
Likewise, people who speak flawlessly aren’t necessarily smart, honest, dependable, or nice.
I’m trying not keep peeves as pets any longer. I imagine I’ll continue to cringe from time to time when someone writes or says something that bugs me. But, that’ll be my problem.
I was sitting in my garden yesterday weeding the strawberry plants when a realization struck me: I will never, ever be rid of the weeds and grasses in my garden. In fact, I question my own sanity from making the effort.
That spasm of reality struck me as I pulled at a piece of crab grass with a root about three feet long. Not a root, really, but a rhizome.
Rhizomes are actually stems that run underground with the purpose of starting new plants. Any little bit of rhizome that is left in the soil after you pull out the plant in question will form a new plant.
Quackgrass, known by Romans as agropyron repens, is really very impressive. In addition to reproducing by the seeds it grows, each plant can generate 300 feet of rhizomes each year, all of which can create multiple new plants.
So, if I pulled out 100 plants yesterday, I may have left behind a seasonal possibility of 30,000 feet of rhizomes in my strawberries. Yikes!
Another arch-enemy of mine is the plant called creeping Charlie. Guess what? Also a rhizome spreader.
Not all rhizome plants are enemies. Kentucky bluegrass spreads via rhizomes. It’s not an easy grass to establish, but it spreads nicely. That is, if the quack grass and creeping Charlie don’t crowd it out.
You can use chemicals to kill these weeds, of course, but we’re supposed to feel guilty about doing that. Plus, it’s tricky, since you might kill more of the plants you want to keep.
I think the best plan is to somehow find some minions to pull my weeds, or to limit my garden to a much smaller size. Like, maybe a window box.
None of that will happen, of course. I do like gardening, even the weed pulling part. Ironically, killing those weeds gives me a reason to live.
And, hours spent pulling weeds are hours spent not spending. You can’t go to the store or order on-line while your hands are caked in dirt.
A final thought: Reproducing via rhizomes is very efficient, but thank goodness people don’t reproduce that way.
My father was a professor in the business school at UW-Oshkosh. My sister recently retired after a very long career as a professor, acting department head, and then dean at Fort Valley State University in Georgia. I have done some teaching as an adjunct faculty member at Cardinal Stritch University and Concordia University. My other sister is a pastor, with a Dr. in Theology degree.
I mention all this to let you know where I’m coming from when I say that college isn’t the panacea it is made out to be.
Sure, it is a place where you can learn what “panacea” means, along with other useful information. It is a place where knowledge is imparted and skills honed. But, it isn’t for everyone.
I believe that a well-rounded education is a good thing. Nothing prevents anyone from achieving that, other than not being able to read, because almost every town has a library with access to more knowledge than anyone could possibly absorb.
Some professions really do require a college education. A physician who picked up her or his craft through home study might not be the person I want to operate on me. A lawyer who just likes to say, “I object,” but hasn’t been held to the rigors of law school will not serve you well.
College is expensive. And, a vast majority of people who enroll borrow all or most of the money for tuition, room, and board. The students and their parents talk themselves into taking on serious debt because college graduates get better jobs.
Ironically, brain scientists (at universities) have learned that decision making and managing risk are two areas where the human brain isn’t fully developed until around age 21. So, 18 year-old brains are borrowing tens of thousands of dollars without the full capacity to properly consider their decisions.
It’s true that some graduates make much more over a career than non-graduates. But it is also true that many who enroll don’t graduate. And those who do graduate may or may not get good jobs.
The website, www.lendedu.com, has lots of data on college borrowing. Perhaps most interesting are these statistics about student loan borrowers: Almost 30% move back in with their parents after graduation, over 34% have delayed starting a family, over 47% have delayed buying a car, 73% have delayed saving for retirement, around 63% have delayed buying a home, and almost 28% have delayed getting married because of their debt.
The cost of higher education has outpaced inflation. In a New York Times editorial in 2015, Paul Campos wrote that if car costs had gone up as fast as tuition over the past three decades a new car would now cost an average of $80,000.
He notes several reasons for the increases in cost, one being that administrative positions have grown at 10 times the rate of faculty positions, with some of those jobs paying over $1,000,000 per year, while faculty pay hasn’t gone up much.
So, college is expensive. What should we do?
Well, syndicated talk show host Dave Ramsey has some suggestions. He is very anti-debt, so he suggests working your way through school, even if it means it takes longer. He also suggests attending state schools. For example, Lawrence University in Appleton costs over $46,000 for tuition, while my alma mater, UW-Oshkosh is at $7,500. Are the educational experiences the same between the two? No. Are they $38,500 different? Also, no.
The cost of living on campus averages around $10,000. If your family lives near the school you’re attending, that cost can be close to zero. Would your college life be less fun? Yes. Is that fun worth $10,000? I don’t know.
A strategy many students use is to get core courses done at Wisconsin tech colleges or two-year schools for much less cost. Are the courses as rigorous? I don’t know.
And, the big question, addressed regularly by “Dirty Jobs’” Mike Rowe: Is college the best move for you? There are all sorts of technical and professional jobs that don’t require college, but which pay very well. And, there is a big shortage of people to do those jobs. Two years in tech school or time as an apprentice can start your career with little or no debt.
I went to college, and I’m glad I had that opportunity. I also worked and lived at home and left school with no debt. I didn’t actually think it through back then, but those choices turned out to be good ones, even in an era of much lower tuition costs.
Thankfully, many schools offer grants and financial aid for some students. But, I think it is very important for every student approaching their college decision to factor in the impact of student debt. That is, unless they really like the idea of living at home after they graduate.
Last week I was in Minneapolis, and at one point I realized that I was in the general neighborhood where my dad grew up, and where we used to visit our grandparents.
I don’t remember too many visits there. I learned years later that my mother and grandmother didn’t much care for each other, though to my child’s eyes I didn’t see it back then.
Part of the issue, I surmise, is that my mom’s dad had been a butcher, while my dad’s mom was an early advocate for vegetarianism. By the way, if vegetarians eat vegetables, what do humanitarians eat? But, I digress.
Also, my mom (and dad) smoked, which was another hot topic for Grandma. They didn’t let on that they smoked, but she must have known by the smell of their clothes.
My grandfather wasn’t on the same page with Grandma, but by the time I met him he was a bit frail and quite hard of hearing. I think he mostly just went along for the ride rather than make waves.
When we came to visit we always stopped and got White Castle hamburgers before arriving at their house. And, if we visited for more than a couple of days my mom would take us to get a hamburger at a nearby diner. I think she thought we would die without meat, which is the opposite of what my grandma thought.
To me, Grandma was not a normal grandmother, but she seemed happy to see us. She spoke with a very musical Swedish accent, even though she was born in this country. She had strong opinions about most things including the singing voice of Joe Feeny of the Lawrence Welk show. She hated it.
After Grandpa died Grandma moved in with us in Oshkosh. Our house had once been a duplex, so she mostly was on her own. I got to know her a little better then, but in retrospect I missed the opportunity to learn a lot more about her and her background. Eighteen year-old guys aren’t thinking very clearly about such things.
So, getting back to last week, I found their house and even drove down the alley where their garage was. Back in the day Grandpa had a 1950 something Studebaker in it which he didn’t drive. It was designed to resemble a rocket.
Then I drove over to Lake Avenue and had lunch at that same White Castle. The clientele was markedly less blond than in 1965, but the burgers were the same. A guilty pleasure.
Everything is always changing, and yet it is satisfying to revisit a place where deep memories were formed and to see that some of what once was still is.
I wonder what kinds of thoughts our grandchildren will have if they happen upon our house 50 years from now…
Looking out the window after the past weekend, white seems to be the dominant color, along with the red cheeks of people walking by. Last week someone commented about a Facebook picture from the same date last year showing their grass in desperate need of mowing.
Weather is the news that impacts us most directly each day, it seems. Things are fine, or they’re not. If they are not, plans change, games are cancelled, and sometimes lives are lost due to snow, ice, fog, rain, or whatever Mom Nature dishes out.
For fun, I thought I’d look back at some April 15ths over the years for our area and see if we were playing baseball, planting corn, or shoveling snow, and also what else was happening.
On April 15th, 1948 Israel won its first war against the Arab world. At home in Wisconsin it got up to 70 degrees with a low of 37. It rained a little.
In 1958 on that date the low temperature was also 37 but the high was 73 degrees. Oh, and the Dodgers beat the Giants in the first MLB game ever played in California.
April 15th 1968 was chilly, only getting up to 59 degrees, and falling below freezing overnight. And one of my least favorite songs, “Honey” by Bobby Goldsboro was the number one record in the nation.
Pat and Debbie Boone were on the “Merv Griffin Show” on April 15th, 1978. Here in Southern Wisconsin it got up to 55 degrees with a low of 27.
In 1988 the low temp was about the same as the decade before and the high was 50 degrees. “Beetlejuice” was the number one movie, and the worst beverage.
Ten years later we got 1.35 inches of rain and the high temperature was 48, but it stayed above freezing at 37 degrees overnight. Pol Pot, the brutal Cambodian dictator, died.
So, here we sit in 2018. The high temperature on the 15th of April was 29 degrees, and the low was 24, with 1.7 inches of snow. Nobody is planting corn today!
The conclusion to draw from all of this? Nothing. While climate causes weather, weather doesn’t indicate changes in climate at any given point in time, or even over 70 years on a certain date.
Mostly, let’s all conclude that it is time for spring to start acting like it!
Back in 1966, I was in a Latin class for a semester or so. Not Latin like in Latino but like in Rome. I was not a good student, but one thing I remember from the textbook (which was probably 20 years old at the time) was the phrase, “He cast his baggage to the waves.”
I do not know what the Latin phrase is, of course, but I always found that statement to be both odd and wonderful. I picture a Roman tourist who is just fed-up with his boat trip throwing his roller-board overboard.
Recently that phrase came to mind. I barely made a connection at the Minneapolis airport, and my checked bag did not. I wasn’t surprised or upset with that. I assumed it would be delivered to me at my hotel.
Unfortunately, I was not staying near the airport, since my first meeting the next day was not. The next day I went to my first meeting, and on to the second meeting 30 minutes away. Then I returned to the hotel to pick up my delivered bag, only to find it hadn’t been. Delivered, that is.
What followed was a series of phone calls (with the mandatory hold music, which sounds like an extended car accident over a cell phone) which told me that the delivery company the airline hired had the bag. The delivery company, though, had no record of it.
Sadly, that evening I was to drive to another city three hours away. So, before departing I went to the airport again to speak to a live human. She was very helpful, or at least tried hard to be. I suggested that even if the delivery folks found my bag, it wouldn’t get to city number two until after I had flown home, so I asked that they send it to Milwaukee.
They did, it got there, and all’s well that ends well. The airline gave me a kit with toothpaste, etc., and I did buy socks, underwear, some shoes and a dress shirt at Walmart for $60, which I understand will be repaid by the airline. I apparently am a freak of nature since Walmart sells no dress pants in my size. The good news, if wearing a pair of jeans for three days is required, is that I was in Texas. I wasn’t the only one in jeans.
I’m not Latin scholar, but I can say with authority that if you check a bag and barely make your connecting flight, you may as well cast your baggage to the waves.
In a world where we are surprised daily by news we never thought we’d hear, it’s getting harder and harder to find news that qualifies as being “strange.” But, thanks to the NPR website, here are a few news items that are worthy of celebration. You may have seen some, but they’re worth re-visiting.
Farmer Calls Police Over Tiger In Cow Shed. After a lengthy stand-off, it was determined that the tiger in the Scottish farmer’s barn was stuffed – not as in full from eating too much, but from being a toy.
Swiss University To Offer Degree In Yodeling. I think this is funny because it has the word “yodeling” in it. Personally, I think a few courses in yodeling would be sufficient, but I guess there is demand for an actual degree.
The Great Baboon Escape. Fifty baboons escaped from their enclosure at the Paris Zoo a few weeks ago. No faces were removed, however, as the baboons wandered back into their assigned spot.
Keeping Animals Away With Deer Snorts And Dog Barks. Japanese trains will be blaring out sounds of animals’ warning sounds to keep said animals off the tracks. We in Wisconsin hit enough deer that maybe we should put speakers on our cars.
There are surely “legitimate” news stories that are weirder and harder to believe, but it’s nice to reflect on some items that are not as serious. After some internal debate I decided not to include the story of the man with the five and a half foot-long tapeworm. You’re welcome.
Each time there is a government shut-down, or the threat of one, a term comes up that gets people thinking. That term is “non-essential government employees.”
Now, none of us want the term “non-essential” next to our names. After all, it’s a subjective designation. Somebody we don’t even know decides which jobs are essential and which ones aren’t. I can a person who works very hard at their government job being insulted by being called non-essential. I would be too.
To be honest, the two times I’ve left jobs in my career – one my idea, one not – I was a little disappointed that things continued on without me. That didn’t mean I wasn’t valuable to those places, but I was clearly not essential.
The framers of the Constitution had some definite ideas about what the Federal government should look like. They were mostly concerned with national defense and facilitating relationships between the different states and other countries. Nobody envisioned the behemoth that we have created. Nobody thought that so many would rely on the Federal government for their livelihood, health care, housing, and much more.
As this most recent shut-down started, the Federal government had shrunken to only 2,723,000 non-active-duty military employees – the lowest number since 1966, due in part to a hiring freeze over the past year. That’s more than the population of Chicago, in case you wondered.
We have gotten into the habit of asking the Federal government to do a lot of things for us, and there are people who feel that much more government involvement would be an excellent idea. Others would like things to evolve back towards what our founders had in mind, with a majority of needed government activity taking place at the state level.
It’s also true that the courts have determined that there are many “constitutional” functions for the Federal government that seem to them like things the founders probably would have approved. Others vigorously dispute those rulings.
Fraud and corruption happen at every level of government, just as it does in private companies, non-profits, churches, and even families. I would contend that the bigger the organization, the greater the corruption.
That being said, who among us is even shocked to read about millions and billions in fraud in government programs? The good news is that some of those 2,723,000 were involved in discovering the fraud.
Time will tell whether government gets bigger or smaller. I would bet bigger, but maybe at a slower pace. If more of us are working and taking care of ourselves, fewer services will be essential to us. And that’s not a bad thing.
I’ve had a personal tradition, over the past ten years or so, of starting each new year with several columns that acknowledge the passing of important people during the previous twelve months.
This year, my heart wasn’t in it. Perhaps it is a consequence of my advancing age, or just a coincidence of fate, but it seemed like a ridiculous number of people of consequence died last year.
But, as January moves along, I guess it’s time to acknowledge some of the deceased. Now, I’m not saying the people I’m noting below were the most important people to die, and in fact, I don’t know who gets to decide those things. Let’s just say that these people seemed timeless, which is, of course, impossible.
Watching “Benson” re-runs on ME-TV, I was reminded that Robert Guillaume died in 2017. Other retro-rerun icons who passed away were Jim Nabors, David Cassidy, Monte Hall, Adam West, Barbara Hale (Perry Mason’s assistant), Mike Connors (Mannix), and, of course, Mary Tyler Moore.
Don Rickles, Jerry Lewis, Bill Dana (“Jose Jimenez”), Dick Gregory, Shelley Berman, were old-school comedians. Lewis and Gregory used their talent to do more than just amuse people.
Among the musical giants who died were Glen Campbell, Fats Domino, Tom Petty, Don Williams, Troy Gentry (Montgomery-Gentry), Walter Becker (Steely Dan), Chuck Berry, Al Jarreau, along with Butch Trucks and Gregg Allman of the Allman Brothers Band. They ramble no longer.
Sister Frances Carr, the last member of the religious sect called the Shakers, died at 89. Shakers were doomed to disappear, since they didn’t believe in having sex. No replacement plan.
There were many more notable people who breathed their last breaths in 2017. And, many of us lost friends and relatives who were not famous, but who had great importance to us.
It’s funny, but sometimes it feels like the way we respond to someone’s demise, the most important thing in life is death, which is opposite of the truth. However, in a small way, it feels nice to say a quick thank-you to people who were a part of our lives for so long. Maybe when our time comes, someone will return that small favor.
To say that our recent cold weather has brought back warm memories would be both criminally ironic and false. It has, though brought back some cold memories of our years in Duluth, Minnesota.
Back then, lying in bed in the morning and hearing the regional weather report made throwing back the covers an heroic act.
Duluth, though, was always warmer than International Falls. Perched, as it is, on the Canadian border, it catches the brunt of cold surges. What locals know, however, is that there is another town that is much colder.
Embarrass, Minnesota is on the Embarrass River, as you might expect. Come to find out, in 1905 the township founders, named it after a French word which means “To hinder, confuse or to be complicated.” So, they weren’t ashamed of how cold it was.
So, you say it’s cold? Well, the unofficial low temperature in Embarrass was set on February 2, 1996. It was -64°F. No wind chill factored in, of course. But, temperatures in the mid-40s and mid-50s below happen from time to time as well.
If you’re a gardener, Embarrass isn’t a good place for you, as killing frosts can also happen at most anytime in the summer.
Thanks to the folks at www.embarrass.org, the cold temperatures may be explained as such: “The Vermilion Range borders the northern end, and the Laurentian Divide borders the southern end and moraines are found at right angles to this valley. Gravity and these natural barriers causes the cold air to sink. The type of soil may additionally influence the temperatures.
My job, when we lived in Duluth, involved attending some evening meetings at community groups in small towns. Frozen into my memory, so to speak, was a night when I had a meeting in Ely, Minnesota. It was very pleasant – indoors. When I left, to travel to Virginia, Minnesota for the night, the temperature was around 35 below.
Our car, a 1978 Honda Civic, was not designed with that type of weather in mind. As a result, I could either feel my feet and not see through the frost on the windshield, or I could see where I was going, but not feel my feet.
When I arrived at the hotel I was very happy to be warm. My car, on the other hand, was very unhappy. The next morning the engine was so cold that it took two hands to pull out the dip stick, and the oil was like Vasoline. It had to be towed.
Ahhh… memories. They help put things in perspective, don’t they?
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a job naming things? You’d punch in at 8am, name things until noon, and continue after lunch until 4:30. Nothing but naming things.
I know there are such jobs because there is a company that auto makers, for example, pay tons of money to think up names. Accura and Lumina, for example, are names made-up by a company called Namelab in San Francisco. Both names mean nothing, but sound like they do.
Namelab spends thousands of dollars on focus groups and other research before coming up with their names, and they get paid plenty for their work.
Having spent too many hours looking at paint chips in the past week, I assure you that the hardest naming job in the world has to be at the paint companies. After all, a car company has, perhaps, five or six models. One paint company has 1,500 different hues.
So, imagine the task of coming up with 1,500 names.
The results of their efforts are a lot of really good names that reflect the color they represent. And then there are the others.
For example, one company has “Casual Day,” “Flirtation,” “Shoe Lace” and “Ice Cream Sundae.” I’m not sure what those names have to do with their colors. They also have “Optimism,” “Innocence,” and “Serendipity.”
Another paint company offers a range of, shall we say, dating colors, including “Shy,” “Desire,” “Object of Desire,” “Smokin’ Hot,” “Chivalrous,” and the always interesting “Wild Pansy.”
The website called “Buzzfeed” presented some of what they thought were the most bizarre paint names. Included were “Mayonnaise,” “Anonymous,” “Emotional,” “Divine Pleasure,” “Subtle Touch,” and “Baby’s Bottom.” How pleasant that sounds.
You may have noticed that none of the color names above have any hint about the colors they represent. I understand, though, because how many different ways can a person describe the different shades of pink? I could probably come up with a half-dozen, which would leave me short by about 100.
The printing industry deals with the color naming problem by assigning numbers in what they call the Pantone Matching System. It has the unfortunate acronym of “PMS,” but they don’t need to delve into the English language to describe their many hundreds of colors.
I think that perhaps my favorite color name, although it is neither right nor wrong, is “Gray Area.” That name accurately describes what it is, and yet it doesn’t. It’s kind of a gray area.
As Andy Rooney of “60 Minutes” used to start off most of his commentaries, “Did ya ever wonder why…” In this case, I’m wondering about screw drivers and related topics. Sounds fascinating, doesn’t it?
Many years ago, somebody invented the screw. To turn it, a slot was put in the top. Then the screwdriver was invented to turn the screw. That screwdriver head was flat, like the slot in the screw.
But alas, sometimes those slots on the screws would wear out from the pressure of the screwdrivers, so someone else (Henry Phillips) invented the… wait for it… Phillips’ screwdriver in 1936. It had two perpendicular slots, cutting the pressure on each slot in half over the older model. I’m glad his name wasn’t Shostakovich. “Hey Bob, would you hand me the Shostakovich screw driver?”
Here’s my question: why do we still have the old kind of screw? If it has any advantages over the Phillips, I don’t know what it is. Granted, my knowledge of tools is not great.
Another thing: why do we have so many wrench sizes? It seems to me that we could standardize down to, say, ten sizes. It’s hard for me to think of an application where there would be much difference between a ¼” versus a 5/8th” versus a 7/16” nut. Why not just use the ¼” size?
Come to think of it, do we really need 35 (a made-up number) sizes and shapes of automobile oil filters? How about settling on a small one, a medium size one, and a large one? They could still come in a variety of qualities and technologies, but wouldn’t that make shopping for an oil filter easier?
I must say that I’m not suggesting the government make these decisions. God help us! The free market is capable of deciding these things. For example, the Beta versus VHS battle ended with Beta going away. Some say it was the better option, so it may be too bad, but until videos were replaced with DVDs, it was simpler to have only one format.
My desire for simplicity may never be realized. Newer and better things are invented all the time, but not all the older and less-good things go away. That’s not all bad, though. Some of the old things — like books, for example, and handwritten letters – really have a special place. If he were still with us, I’m sure Andy Rooney would agree.
When I was a kid in the 60s, it seemed that there was a great enthusiasm for getting rid of old buildings and building new ones. Some of those old buildings were surely beyond repair, but many had a lot of character (which may be like a blind date with a “good personality”), and history.
A lot of the structures that were built in the 60s have a lot less character, and some have been torn down and replaced.
Starting in the 70s, the trend moved towards respect for historic structures. Some were kept as is, others were gutted and reimagined as grand spaces with the old beams exposed.
Turn of the century schools were replaced, but some were converted to apartments or office buildings.
I wonder what changed? Why did the old suddenly become valuable? Was it nostalgia for a simpler time, or respect for the quality and durability of the buildings from earlier times?
Our house is very old, as are many around the area. Over the years we have stripped off some “improvements” that were made and found some character beneath. Some of that character translates into dust and cold air leaking in, but I have to admit that it feels kind of cool to be the newest part of the history of our old house.
Sure, it costs money to keep it up, and maybe it isn’t economically wise, but I guess we’re counting on someone else, years from now, who also appreciates that history.
As I get older, I am hopeful that older people, complete with our history, again become interesting to younger people. The years of multiple generations living under one roof are mostly over. However, just as old buildings can be a pain, but worth it because of their interesting character, maybe people like… well, maybe I can be worth the pain that I am because of my history and character.
Sure, older people have upkeep issues, but we don’t need new roofs or windows, though the plumbing may need some attention.
What we do have, though, is the experience of having made many, many mistakes that younger people need not repeat if they are open to our counsel.
There is certainly a place for history in our lives, and everything we do – young or old – is making more history. Let’s make it memorable!
There are a lot of things in the news these days that are hard to believe. It doesn’t help that some of the articles really aren’t true, it’s been shown.
I misunderstood a headline that seemed hard to believe. It said something like: “Weinstein Being Investigated for 2014 Rapes.” For a moment, I thought the headline was referring to the quantity of rapes for which he has been accused, not the year in which they were alleged to have been committed.
That confusion, on my part, spoke volumes to me about the sexual assault fervor that has hit Hollywood, Washington, D.C., and other places. In context of the accusations that have been leveled, it wouldn’t be impossible for Harvey Weinstein to have committed that many assaults. My math says that over five years 2,014 assaults would have taken place at a rate of a little more than one per day. Over 25 years it would have happened less than seven times per month.
As a star-maker in Hollywood and New York City, the 2014 number, horrible though it may be, would not be hard to believe. In an industry where knowing the right people makes all the difference, he had no problem getting access to young women.
But, isn’t 2,014 too hard to believe?
Charlie Sheen claims to have had sex with 5,000 women – either willingly or for hire. Wilt Chamberlain, the basketball icon, claimed 20,000 women.
Fidel Castro was said by an aide to have bedded 35,000 women over 50 years. As a dictator, it’s very possible most of those women hadn’t given themselves freely, given the alternative for saying no.
Men are known to exaggerate such things, but even cutting the numbers in half, they would be hard to believe.
And, it’s also possible that some of the female accusers of Weinstein and others have not been totally truthful, but there certainly seems to be plenty of evidence to suggest most are telling what really happened.
Rape and lesser levels of assault are horrible and can ruin people’s lives. It is very sad that things have gone on for so many years without the perpetrators facing the consequences for their actions.
As with all such things, some innocent people will probably be caught up in it too, and that’s also a shame.
The best we can hope is that our children and grand-children will be less likely to confront such a situation over their lives if justice is done now. It’s hard to believe that all assault can be eliminated, but we can try.
Remember the TV comedy, “Third Rock From The Sun?” It was about four aliens (interstellar, not international) who, having been sent to Earth – the third rock from the sun – attain human form to try to understand human behavior.
They posed as the Solomon family. Dick, Sally, Tommy and Harry – Father, Sister, teenage son, and… whatever Harry was.
Well, last fall we took a day and visited the Wisconsin Automotive Museum in Hartford. Why is it there? I’ll tell you. The museum is located six blocks from the factory that made the “Kissel Kar” until the Great Depression depressed car sales.
You should go if you like old cars. As a bonus, you’ll see the red 1964 Rambler American that was featured as the Solomon’s vehicle in “Third Rock.” It’s the actual car, donated by the producers of the show.
Lately we’ve been binge watching episodes of “Third Rock” on Amazon. I find it has more moments that make me laugh than any current sit-com, though another cosmic-themed show, “The Big Bang Theory” is close.
“Third Rock” is about the intrepid travelers and makes fun of how they react to human traditions, emotions, and such. But really, the show also makes fun of those same traditions and emotions. Face it: much of what humankind does – even we socially evolved types – might look pretty silly to someone seeing us for the first time.
Imagine your first time seeing a bunch of people clap. If you had never seen anyone cry, wouldn’t it be odd? Sally in “Third Rock” starts to cry and thinks she’s leaking. She’s discovering sadness.
The show is mostly about relationships. All four of them struggle to have romantic connections to humans with various levels of success. They don’t understand all the subtle secrets of human interactions, like when telling the truth is good, and when it isn’t, and why we don’t attempt to seduce our office-mate with a strip-tease on the desk at work.
If you think about it, newborn babies might as well be from outer space in terms of what they know. Bit by bit we learn how things work, including relationships. Judging from what I’ve seen, just about the time when we’ve got it all figured out it’s time to depart this third rock for heaven.
At the end of each episode the Solomons get together to share their conclusions. Sometimes they are laughably wrong, and sometimes they are painfully right.
They stay longer than planned because the find humans fascinating.
It’s Lent. The time when Christians commemorate the approach of Good Friday (maybe THAT’s the day that should be called Black Friday) and Easter.
In some churches people are encouraged to give things up during the 40 days of Lent. I believe it has to do with showing solidarity with Christ through some minor personal sacrifice.
I didn’t grow up with that tradition and, frankly, don’t like giving things up. My New Year’s resolutions usually contain qualifiers like “less,” “try to” and “if convenient.” I’m not proud of that, but it’s true. I can try to change and do it less, if it’s convenient.
I know that the power of religious belief can help people do remarkable things. My father-in-law quit smoking, cold-turkey, during Lent one year. Others start the process of “getting off of sugar.” I don’t smoke. And as far as sugar goes, the Movie “Michael” is instructive. Played by John Travolta, the Arch Angel Michael heaps sugar onto his cereal. When asked why, he says there isn’t any sugar in Heaven. He then says, “No matter what they say, you can’t get enough sugar.”
Medical science, of course, disagrees with that, but hey; he was an angel!
A week into Lent, I’ve decided that there is something I need to give up. Comedy. Not making it, but listening to it.
I like listening to people talk when I drive, and talk radio is painful to hear. But, with Sirius/XM in our car, we have five or six channels of stand-up comedy. When I’m at home I can listen to comedians on Pandora or IHeart Radio apps on my phone.
It’s gotten to the point where I fall asleep each night to comedy on my pillow speaker.
Don’t get me wrong: I don’t think there’s anything wrong with comedy per se. Some is not tasteful and can be downright offensive, partly because that’s what comedians are supposed to do, I guess. I avoid those.
The problem is, I think, that comedy has become my brain sugar. As it is, I can quote a comedian’s take on almost any topic that comes up. So far my family and friends have been tolerant of my references, but even I’m finding them (my references) to be tiresome.
So, I think it’s time for me to listen to more music, or maybe some un-funny audio books or something. Not forever, but for what remains of the 40 days.
If you see me in tears at some point, you’ll know that I’ve kept my pledge.
In a world where we are surprised daily by news we never thought we’d hear, it’s getting harder and harder to find news that qualifies as being “strange.” But, thanks to the NPR website, here are a few news items that are worthy of celebration. You may have seen some, but they’re worth re-visiting.
Farmer Calls Police Over Tiger In Cow Shed. After a lengthy stand-off, it was determined that the tiger in the Scottish farmer’s barn was stuffed – not as in full from eating too much, but from being a toy.
Swiss University To Offer Degree In Yodeling. I think this is funny because it has the word “yodeling” in it. Personally, I think a few courses in yodeling would be sufficient, but I guess there is demand for an actual degree.
The Great Baboon Escape. Fifty baboons escaped from their enclosure at the Paris Zoo a few weeks ago. No faces were removed, however, as the baboons wandered back into their assigned spot.
Keeping Animals Away With Deer Snorts And Dog Barks. Japanese trains will be blaring out sounds of animals’ warning sounds to keep said animals off the tracks. We in Wisconsin hit enough deer that maybe we should put speakers on our cars.
There are surely “legitimate” news stories that are weirder and harder to believe, but it’s nice to reflect on some items that are not as serious. After some internal debate I decided not to include the story of the man with the five and a half foot-long tapeworm. You’re welcome.
The folks at www.historyhustle.com have released a list of words from the past which might well have some value in our present day. I cannot vouch for the words being legitimate, but real or made-up, they are fun.
To perendinate is defined as “putting off until the day after tomorrow.” That’s for people who feel pressured by the idea of putting things off until the very next day.
Cacothes is “the irresistible urge to do something inadvisable.” The one extra shot of brandy, the wink at the pretty girl, or the early morning Tweet are all examples.
Frobly-mobly means “neither well, nor unwell.” How are you? “Meh.”
Callipygian is, sadly, the only one of these words I had heard before. It means, “having beautiful, well-shaped buttocks.” So, I am certainly callipygian. Or not.
Ultracrepidarian is most needed in our modern parlance. It means, “someone who gives opinions on subjects they know nothing about.”
A snollygoster is “a shrewd, unprincipled person – especially a politician.” So, there really is nothing new under the sun.
Someone who is philogrobilized is “someone who has a hangover without admitting to actual drinking.”
I may not be callipygian, but I am certainly a slugabed, meaning someone who “stays in bed past the usual or proper time to get up.” But, it’s so warm and comfortable! Interestingly, there’s another word that applies: dysania means “extreme difficulty getting out of bed in the morning.”
Uhtceare means “lying awake and worrying about the day ahead.” I think I’d worry more about how to pronounce it.
Kakistocracy is “government by the least qualified or worst people.” At any given time over my life there are large numbers of people who believe that that is the situation.
Shivviness denotes the “uncomfortable feeling of wearing new underwear.”
Every dog I’ve ever known is a grote: “Someone who stares at you while you eat.”
Over my career I’ve known a number of fudgels, in other words, “people who pretend to work while actually doing nothing.” That’s what Facebook is for, right?
There are more words, and probably hundreds beyond the list HistoryHustle shared. Someday people will look back on our current vocabulary with the same sort of wonder we have about these words.
My first candidate for a word that will be looked at with confusion: “Nothing burger.”
The garden seeds have been in some of the stores now for two or three weeks, and after slowing down to look numerous times, last Saturday I succumbed to the temptation and bought some.
Maybe it was the warm, snow-less days that we had, but something in my brain told me that gardening season is just around the corner. I guess that’s true, if the corner you’re talking about takes several months to go around.
I only got four packets, so that’s not too bad. Given my past experiences, I may well misplace them before it’s time to plant, but even if that happens, it will have been worth the expense if only for the little shot of optimism they delivered.
In some ways this is the best time of the gardening season. Everything is hypothetical, with no real work to do, bugs to swat, or weeds to curse. Now a person can plan. This variety will go there, and that variety over there. In the end it never quite works out that way, and despite the best of intentions, I’m usually not sure what got planted where.
It’s funny, but I think I prefer planting and growing the food more than I enjoy harvesting it. Yes, there is satisfaction in growing our own food, but my real joy comes from working up the soil, planting the seeds, and seeing the little green shoots come up through the black soil.
The same thing is true of the farm fields all around us. Every year when the crops come up out of the soil it’s like another miracle has happened. By August the romance has worn off.
Every summer I’m grateful that gardening is a hobby, and not something we depend on for income or for our subsistence. It’s annoying of animals get into the corn, but it’s not a make-or-break situation.
When she was a child during the depression, my mother and her family gardened like their lives depended on it. Not only did they need the food, but they could sell some for other needs. She told of grating horseradish roots until their hands bled so that could sell it in town. I’m sure there are people in that same situation today.
Anyway, I’ve got some seeds now, and soon I’ll be getting out the graph paper and making my plans. We may have half a dozen blizzards between now and when those seeds actually go in the ground, but I’ll be ready!
Each time there is a government shut-down, or the threat of one, a term comes up that gets people thinking. That term is “non-essential government employees.”
Now, none of us want the term “non-essential” next to our names. After all, it’s a subjective designation. Somebody we don’t even know decides which jobs are essential and which ones aren’t. I can a person who works very hard at their government job being insulted by being called non-essential. I would be too.
To be honest, the two times I’ve left jobs in my career – one my idea, one not – I was a little disappointed that things continued on without me. That didn’t mean I wasn’t valuable to those places, but I was clearly not essential.
The framers of the Constitution had some definite ideas about what the Federal government should look like. They were mostly concerned with national defense and facilitating relationships between the different states and other countries. Nobody envisioned the behemoth that we have created. Nobody thought that so many would rely on the Federal government for their livelihood, health care, housing, and much more.
As this most recent shut-down started, the Federal government had shrunken to only 2,723,000 non-active-duty military employees — the lowest number since 1966, due in part to a hiring freeze over the past year. That’s more than the population of Chicago, in case you wondered.
We have gotten into the habit of asking the Federal government to do a lot of things for us, and there are people who feel that much more government involvement would be an excellent idea. Others would like things to evolve back towards what our founders had in mind, with a majority of needed government activity taking place at the state level.
It’s also true that the courts have determined that there are many “constitutional” functions for the Federal government that seem to them like things the founders probably would have approved. Others vigorously dispute those rulings.
Fraud and corruption happen at every level of government, just as it does in private companies, non-profits, churches, and even families. I would contend that the bigger the organization, the greater the corruption.
That being said, who among us is even shocked to read about millions and billions in fraud in government programs? The good news is that some of those 2, 723,000 were involved in discovering the fraud.
Time will tell whether government gets bigger or smaller. I would bet bigger, but maybe at a slower pace. If more of us are working and taking care of ourselves, fewer services will be essential to us. And that’s not a bad thing.
I’ve had a personal tradition, over the past ten years or so, of starting each new year with several columns that acknowledge the passing of important people during the previous twelve months.
This year, my heart wasn’t in it. Perhaps it is a consequence of my advancing age, or just a coincidence of fate, but it seemed like a ridiculous number of people of consequence died last year.
But, as January moves along, I guess it’s time to acknowledge some of the deceased. Now, I’m not saying the people I’m noting below were the most important people to die, and in fact, I don’t know who gets to decide those things. Let’s just say that these people seemed timeless, which is, of course, impossible.
Watching “Benson” re-runs on ME-TV, I was reminded that Robert Guillaume died in 2017. Other retro-rerun icons who passed away were Jim Nabors, David Cassidy, Monte Hall, Adam West, Barbara Hale (Perry Mason’s assistant), Mike Connors (Mannix), and, of course, Mary Tyler Moore.
Don Rickles, Jerry Lewis, Bill Dana (“Jose Jimenez”), Dick Gregory, Shelley Berman, were old-school comedians. Lewis and Gregory used their talent to do more than just amuse people.
Among the musical giants who died were Glen Campbell, Fats Domino, Tom Petty, Don Williams, Troy Gentry (Montgomery-Gentry), Walter Becker (Steely Dan), Chuck Berry, Al Jarreau, along with Butch Trucks and Gregg Allman of the Allman Brothers Band. They ramble no longer.
Sister Frances Carr, the last member of the religious sect called the Shakers, died at 89. Shakers were doomed to disappear, since they didn’t believe in having sex. No replacement plan.
There were many more notable people who breathed their last breaths in 2017. And, many of us lost friends and relatives who were not famous, but who had great importance to us.
It’s funny, but sometimes it feels like the way we respond to someone’s demise, the most important thing in life is death, which is opposite of the truth. However, in a small way, it feels nice to say a quick thank-you to people who were a part of our lives for so long. Maybe when our time comes, someone will return that small favor.
Over the years I’ve archived in this space various missteps I’ve taken. Especially memorable was the time I ran over my wallet with a mulching lawn mower (by accident). But, there are many other incidents that prove my marked imperfection.
I must say, though, that I actually find the stupid things I’ve done to be more amusing than the “fails” that crowd the internet and programs like “America’s Funniest Videos.” Yes, some of the videos are very funny, but I don’t take any joy in watching someone be humiliated, or in the case of some of the internet videos, humiliated and badly injured. Adding insult to injury, or the other way around.
So, I’ll tell you this story with the understanding that it may or may not have happened to me or someone like me. Fortunately, there is no photographic evidence.
Let’s just say there was this guy, about my age, height, and weight, who decided to try out some exercise machines and such at a gym. Let’s say he went during the middle of the day when there were very few people around.
Now, just for fun, imagine this guy looking at an inversion table. You’ve seen the fellow on TV selling them. They tip, allowing you to stretch your back and gain all sorts of health benefits – or so he says. I know an 80 year-old man who uses one regularly so, how hard can it be?
Knowing that many people use these devices, I… I mean this hypothetical guy we’re talking about, decides to try it. He leans against it, puts his feet in the foot holders, and tips back.
Immediately he realizes that he has made a big mistake. Clearly there are adjustments to be made before using this machine that he has not made. Attempting to right himself, unsuccessfully, he quickly reviews his options. 1. Stay there until someone rescues him. 2. Try to escape.
At that point I, that is I mean, the guy we’re talking about, manages to free his feet and clumsily roll off the machine, nearly tipping it over.
Now, if I had seen that happen on a television show, I probably would have chuckled. It wasn’t funny while it was happening, but like so many things in life, I see the humor in it now.
As I said, that may, or may not have happened to me. Fortunately, there is no proof.
To say that our recent cold weather has brought back warm memories would be both criminally ironic and false. It has, though brought back some cold memories of our years in Duluth, Minnesota.
Back then, lying in bed in the morning and hearing the regional weather report made throwing back the covers an heroic act.
Duluth, though, was always warmer than International Falls. Perched, as it is, on the Canadian border, it catches the brunt of cold surges. What locals know, however, is that there is another town that is much colder.
Embarrass, Minnesota is on the Embarrass River, as you might expect. Come to find out, in 1905 the township founders, named it after a French word which means “To hinder, confuse or to be complicated.” So, they weren’t ashamed of how cold it was.
So, you say it’s cold? Well, the unofficial low temperature in Embarrass was set on February 2, 1996. It was -64°F. No wind chill factored in, of course. But, temperatures in the mid-40s and mid-50s below happen from time to time as well.
If you’re a gardener, Embarrass isn’t a good place for you, as killing frosts can also happen at most anytime in the summer.
Thanks to the folks at www.embarrass.org, the cold temperatures may be explained as such: “The Vermilion Range borders the northern end, and the Laurentian Divide borders the southern end and moraines are found at right angles to this valley. Gravity and these natural barriers causes the cold air to sink. The type of soil may additionally influence the temperatures.
My job, when we lived in Duluth, involved attending some evening meetings at community groups in small towns. Frozen into my memory, so to speak, was a night when I had a meeting in Ely, Minnesota. It was very pleasant – indoors. When I left, to travel to Virginia, Minnesota for the night, the temperature was around 35 below.
Our car, a 1978 Honda Civic, was not designed with that type of weather in mind. As a result, I could either feel my feet and not see through the frost on the windshield, or I could see where I was going, but not feel my feet.
When I arrived at the hotel I was very happy to be warm. My car, on the other hand, was very unhappy. The next morning the engine was so cold that it took two hands to pull out the dip stick, and the oil was like Vasoline. It had to be towed.
Ahhh… memories. They help put things in perspective, don’t they?
Whatever holiday you celebrate this time of year, the expectation is that we’re all to be jolly and merry and joyful. Some of that probably stems from the religious foundations of the holidays, but much of it comes from the giving and singing and the family traditions we observe.
I found that my sense of Christmas changed the year my dad died. He passed away on the 15th of December after a very brief illness. Consequently, his illness, death, and funeral bumped up against Christmas and New Years without much time to absorb what had happened.
To be honest, it could have been the loss of any of our family members. The fact was that what had always been the same (albeit, growing) cast of characters had now been reduced by one very important player. Even though I was in my 30s, it was one of my first confrontation with the truth of life’s changes.
Come to find out, the absence of change is the oddity. To go for years with things being fine is a gift, and I know I didn’t appreciate it, or my father, enough.
A few years later I submitted my first column to the Cambridge News. It addressed the idea of how life can change quickly, and how Christmas, in particular, is a time when you really feel the changes.
I talked about the song, “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas,” and how I hadn’t ever really listened to it before my dad died, and about how the line that goes: “Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow…” really gets right to the point of valuing our time together.
More than 20 years have passed since that column. We’ve lost family members and added some, and while Christmas will never be the same as it was before that December of 1990, it is better in some ways. The tenuous nature of life has been exposed, and my gratitude for those special days with my family are like gold now. I’m grateful for each minute.
For what it’s worth, the joy I feel at Christmas has become bittersweet over the years, and there is some pain with the happiness. I don’t think it could be any other way. It isn’t even a bad thing, really.
It is my hope that your holiday celebrations are joyful, and that the memories you have about the people who are no longer with you are happy ones. Maybe even a little merry.
When we’re very little there are a lot of things we can’t do. As much as we’d like to drive a car or fly a rocket ship or be a cow-person, if you’re five years old, you can only pretend to do those things. They aren’t age-appropriate.
As life speeds along, there comes a time when we, as individuals, start to realize that there are some activities and things we can probably take off our lists of likely activities. Not because we’re not old enough, but because we’re too old, feel too old, or are not adventurous enough.
In that vein, here are a few words and phrases that I have eliminated from my personal dictionary of things I’ll ever again need to say:
1.Bungee jump
2.Speedo
3.Rappel
4.Double Axel
5.Parachute
6.Maserati
7.Tri-athalon
8.Nobel Prize
9.Fist fight
10.Helmet
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that people at any age can’t say the above words, or do the things they imply. I’ve heard of 90-somethings running marathons, and President Bush 41 did a parachute jump when he was in his 80s, I think
I’m saying that for me, figure skating or parachute jumping or driving a car 150 miles-per-hour isn’t something that’s likely to happen, and I’m okay with it. And any activity that requires a helmet is, by definition, not for someone who values their head.
My last fist fight was in 8th grade, and was really more of a shoving match. We were both hoping for an authority figure to stop us, which they did.
And wearing a Speedo… I don’t think any of us want to see that.
Have I given up? Not at all. Walking, bicycling, moderate running – these are all activities I hope I’ll enjoy for years to come. Part of it is that as time goes on I think we redefine what “adventure” means to us. It’s an adventure to keep up with a one-year-old grandchild, just as it is an adventure to clean the gutters this time of year. It doesn’t compare to rappelling off of a cliff or bungee jumping, but there’s just enough potential of danger to give a tiny thrill.
Actually, aging itself takes a little courage. Boldly facing the future with a smile – okay, and maybe a Speedo – is what separates the courageous from the cowardly.
I’m up to the challenge. I’ll keep a helmet handy, just in case.
Hey, remember 50 years ago? You may remember, you may have read about it, or you may be delightfully unaware of what happened in 1967. I was there, and unlike some survivors of the late 1960s, I wasn’t chemically impaired, so I remember a lot of it.
Thanks to the internet, we can all take a look back.
Guess who released their first record albums in 1967? Nobody special; just The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, David Bowie, and The Grateful Dead. They were all destined for the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
Less notable, but with the best name, the Electric Prunes also released their first album, featuring a great song called, “I Had Too Much To Dream Last Night.” Very psychedelic.
Little Billy Gates enrolled in the Lakeside School in Seattle at age 13. It’s still there, and in fact a friend of mine worked there a few years ago. He’s thrown a few dollars their way.
Ronald Reagan became governor of California in 1967, starting the transition from actor to politician.
Another famous American, Muhammad Ali, refused induction into the Army as a conscientious objector.
It was also the year of racially charged riots in Detroit, and a protest in Washington D.C. by 100,000 anti-war activists.
Speaking of race, President Johnson successfully nominated Thurgood Marshall as the first black Supreme Court justice.
The Six-Day War between Israel and several Arab nations happened in 1967. Who knew a war could take less than a week?
And, sadly, the Apollo One spacecraft caught fire, and three astronauts were killed.
South African Dr. Christiaan Barnard completed the first human to human heart transplant. The recipient didn’t survive for very long, but his work was groundbreaking for today’s successful transplants.
Happily, the Green Bay Packers beat the Kansas City Chiefs in the very first Super Bowl.
The Beatles released the iconic “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts’ Club Band” in 1967. Back then the song “When I’m Sixty-Four” seemed unrelatable. This month it becomes all too relatable to me.
Actually, things may not be so different now. There may not be the same wave of great music, but there is good music. And, we have civil and un-civil protests, medical breakthroughs, wars, racial tension, and a non-politician loudly in office.
Fifty years ago seems like forever, but looking backwards too much gives us stiff necks. So, we move forward, “With a Little Help From Our Friends.”
My father had about a dozen phrases that he used often, to the point that it was easy not to hear them anymore. One of those phrases is, “It takes all kinds to make a world.”
I don’t think my dad knew he was quoting Miguel de Cervantes’ 1615 story “Don Quixote.” Translated from Spanish, Miguel wrote, “In the world there must surely be of all sorts.”
The modern world of social media proves Miguel and my dad’s point. Take Facebook. Please. Some kinds of people are open to “friending” anyone, while others are more private. Some people post things every day, and others nearly never. Some people have photos mostly of themselves, while others focus on pictures of friends, family, and scenic views.
Tinder is an app that isn’t about dating so much as “hooking-up.” A rise in STD’s has been associated with that app. Not every kind of person would find Tinder to be appealing.
Snapchat allows people to send photographs that instantly disappear – except that they don’t. (Snapchat was taken to court over that.) The appeal, to some kinds of people, was to send a photo of naked body parts to someone else, without the risk if it “going viral.”
For other kinds, that isn’t an issue, so all sorts of pictures of body parts are sent via cell phones, and then, (despite pleas to “not share them with anyone!”) shared with everyone.
The “Tweeter in Chief” has made Twitter front and center in the news. I have been told that Twitter has many valid uses, and I’m sure it does. It also allows various kinds of people a vehicle to weigh in on everything, whether they know anything about the topic or not.
With Twitter, and also any blog or web site that accepts reader comments, the kinds of people who are hateful and hurtful and horrible can comment to their hearts’ delight – without having the courage to use their names. Letters to the editor in newspapers aren’t tolerated if they use such language.
So, there you have it. All kinds of people, exposed (literally or figuratively) by how they use social media. Most people are the kinds that are caring, reasonable, and appropriate. Somehow, though, those other kinds of people stand out.
The final kind of people that help us make a world are those who have no interest in social media, and instead value their privacy and the odd sensation that comes from talking with people directly.
I guess it really does take all kinds to make a world.
Like it or not, the shopping season has officially begun. For some, of course, it never ends, but this time of year even reluctant shoppers hear the retail muses calling.
Local stores and artists help keep your money in the area; keeping friends and neighbors employed. You’re probably not going to find that 95-inch television in a small town, but I’ll bet you can find plenty of nice gifts.
Where to shop? Many shop on-line these days, myself included, but I try to shop at actual stores too, if only because I’d like them to still be there in five years.
Wisconsin is home to a surprising number of major retailers and manufacturers. Farm and Fleet, Kohls, Shopko, and Lands’ End are among them, along with Trek, Pacific Cycles, Jockey, Harley Davidson, Ashley Furniture, and Kohler, in case Santa is bringing you a toilet.
Just because a company is headquartered in our state doesn’t mean that all, or any of the merchandise is made here. There are companies that do make all or most of their products in the USA, if you’re willing to pay a little more. Sometimes I am.
For example, visit www.allamericanclothing.com for a full line of clothing and shoes that are made in our country. Their jeans cost about the same as Levi’s, which I don’t believe are manufactured north of the Rio Grande anymore.
There is another web site called www.usalovelist.com which provides information on lots of American-made items. For example, they have lists of men’s shoes made in the USA, led by Wisconsin’s own Allen Edmunds shoes.
Women’s and men’s winter boots and other shoes are made in Ely, Minnesota (Stegers), Maine (L.L. Bean), Portland, OR (Danner) and Chippewa Falls, WI (www.bamason.com), which is where my dad bought most of his shoes via mail order. They still employee 450 Wisconsinites.
New Balance makes some shoes in the USA, but not most. That applies to some other shoe companies as well.
This week is mostly about saving money, what with all the big sales, and I understand that. I like saving money too. Shopping locally or focusing on Wisconsin or American-made products isn’t often the cheapest avenue to take, but chances are that those products will be well made by people who are reasonably well paid in factories that are supposed to meet basic safety and health standards. That can’t be said for the rest of the world.
Wherever you shop, please enjoy the good feelings that come from getting the right gifts, and more importantly, being done for another year.
I’m sure you’ve seen those amazing Russian nesting dolls. They’re called matryoshka dolls, and I’m beginning to think they are an example of art imitating life.
It seems like everywhere I look I see a task that needs to be done, which could easily be done if another task were done, which can’t be accomplished until yet a third task is completed.
Take my office (“please,” as Henny Youngman would say), for example. There is a box of things to go to Goodwill, but it needs to be gone through to make sure there is nothing I might need. To do that I’ll need to make space on my table. To do that I’ll have to go through a pile of papers, since there might be receipts or other information I’ll miss if it’s thrown away.
A task, within a task, within a task.
Getting healthier can be a matryoshka doll too. Running? Not until I lose some weight so my knees and ankles don’t give out. Lose weight? Not without vigorous exercise.
Of course, these are all mostly just excuses. If I or anyone else thinks that getting from point A to point B will not include numerous stops along the way, we haven’t been paying attention.
I’ve always been someone who wants to take some grand action and then sit back and enjoy the splendor of what I’ve accomplished. I like playing the piano, but not enough to take lessons. I like writing, but avoid taking classes to improve. I like having a nice garden, and I don’t mind weeding it thoroughly, but when the weeds come back in two weeks my enthusiasm has waned.
I’m not lazy per se, but for some reason I resist opening up those nesting dolls to get at the grand finale in the middle – the creamy center of the Cadbury egg.
In the past, I’ve burst through these mental logjams by managing to put forth a spasm of energy to get through all the projects within projects within projects in one part of my life or another.
Honestly, I think the answer is probably to shut off my phone, computer, and television for a few days. And maybe I should start drinking coffee.
With shorter days and longer nights, it is especially important for me to dredge up some enthusiasm, so to assure that I’m successful in my efforts to make progress, I think it’s time to buy some Superman underpants. If that doesn’t do it, nothing will.
It seems that there is a never-ending flood of interesting news these days. “Interesting” doesn’t mean good or bad or odd, though some of all three have come our way.
The skimpy curtain on Hollywood’s power brokers has been pulled back. I don’t know anyone who has been surprised by the revelations of sexual predation. The “casting couch” has been part of show business history as long as there have been movies. And, men behaving badly predates that by, oh, ten thousand years or so.
I always assumed that the producers and directors used coercion to tempt lovely young starlets onto that couch. Come to find out, it isn’t always a couch, it goes way beyond coercion and is sometimes rape, and the victims aren’t always women.
The most interesting part of the recent disclosures may be both the courage of those who have come forward and the cowardice of the people who knew, and said nothing. That, and the hypocrisy of the women-centric political stands of some of the worst offenders.
In other news: the Russians. Real news, fake news, Republicans, Democrats… you name it. It’s interesting that the key ingredients are power, influence, and money. Some of it is, undoubtedly, innocent entrepreneurship, but some of it doesn’t sound like it is on the up-and-up. Time will tell.
The National Football League is having a problem. It’s odd to see empty seats in stadiums so early in the season for teams that are pretty good. I’m not as upset by players kneeling during the National Anthem as some people are. However, I think there are other ways for the players to be active in working on societal issues, and many of them do a lot of good work in their communities. That’s why their actions are so, what’s the word… dumb. I hope things resolve soon.
There have been more shootings, acid attacks, knock-out punches at strangers, and cars running into people. Chicagoans are killing each other at a rapid pace, despite tough gun laws. Maybe things would be worse without those laws. It’s hard to say.
Finally, it’s dark out. Without kids at home and their multiple school and work activities, it’s getting harder every year at this time to stay awake long enough to have dinner. I can’t imagine living in Fairbanks, Alaska.
Yes, there is much going on in the world, and I’ve touched on only a bit of it. I think it is becoming harder to focus on the most important things in our lives. Only you know what those things are, but they probably don’t involve Hollywood, Russia, or the NFL.
Sunday afternoon I asked my son-in-law if he wanted a Coca-cola. My granddaughter began to laugh, thinking her grandfather had thought up another silly word. She had only heard the beverage referred to as “Coke.”
Earlier, I was in the kitchen explaining to several 30-somethings what Burma Shave highway signs were, to bring some context to the signs the Earth Wood and Fire Tour people had put out around the area. If you don’t know, Burma Shave had series of red signs all over the highways of our country that told a story. The only one I can remember is: “Don’t go passing… on a slope… unless you have… a periscope.” And the last sign would always say “Burma Shave!”
Later, while watching football, I explained that until around 1970, field goal kickers used their toes, and came at the ball from straight behind. That was before soccer kickers took over.
It seems that I’m spending more time explaining things that I thought everybody knew, only to realize they hadn’t been born yet when these things happened.
It’s only fair, I guess, as those same younger people are constantly explaining things to me, although I’m still a little vague on “hashtags.”
People my age also find ourselves explaining things to people who are older than we are. Comedian Mike Birbiglia tells that his mother, with help, had sent her first fax to Mike. Then she called and asked him to fax it back, since it was her only copy.
Sometimes explaining things like Twitter and Facebook to older people leaves them with facial expressions that denote befuddlement. It isn’t that they don’t get it; they just don’t see the need for such things. Letters and phones and personal contact worked just fine. And you know, they make a good point.
Some things are hard to explain. Why is it considered a burden to call someone on their phone instead of typing a text message to them? It’s called a phone, right?
Also, I still don’t understand why we have Daylight Savings Time. Does anybody really think time is being saved?
The act of explaining things to people assumes that they want to hear them. I try to get a read on that, but I fear sometimes my listeners are just being polite – especially if I’ve explained those things multiple times in the past.
Just about any movie or TV script that makes a little fun of actors will eventually find one such actor saying, “But, what’s my motivation?” I think that’s a question that all actors are taught to ask — of a director, or themselves – when they take on a role.
As Shakespeare said, though, we’re all playing roles on this worldly stage. So, what’s our motivation?
A lot of what we do is motivated by the desire to stay alive. Early humans, and people in unsafe environments even today, have to spend a lot of time and energy scrambling for food and avoiding predators – animal or human.
Most of us have things a bit easier than that. Our motivations lean more towards being liked (or at least noticed), enjoying life, and passing along wisdom and an inheritance along to our children.
We also help people in need, when we can. Some people say that these gifts don’t count if our motivation comes from wanting to be noticed or trying to make up for things we feel bad about.
Personally, I think what we do is more important than why we do it. Altruism – doing something for no personal benefit – is pretty rare. After all, doing something nice for someone else makes a person feel good, right? Well, that’s a personal benefit.
Some artists question their motivation for creating. Is it ego? Maybe. And why not? Everybody likes to have their work acknowledged.
Some motivations warrant scrutiny. Gossiping about neighbors or workmates is motivated by the desire to be liked, I think. Being a super-fan is probably motivated by the desire to belong. The pursuit of science and religion might both be motivated by the desire to understand.
Psychologists spend countless hours helping people understand why they do what they do. Other people could probably benefit from such insights. Why do some people knock themselves out trying to please others who aren’t even nice to them? It seems their motivation that isn’t very healthy.
What motivates people to run for office? A desire to serve, or a desire for recognition? Or, maybe a bit of both.
If you think about it, everyone does everything for one reason or another. You don’t have to be an actor to ask “What’s my motivation?” Mostly, though, why we do things is less important than the good or bad consequences of the things we do.
Autumn is here for sure, judging by the cool nights and the smell of the leaves. It was inevitable, of course. It happens every year around this time.
There are a lot of beautiful days in October, once the rain stops. There are also German wasps attacking our food, box elder bugs crawling on and into our houses, and Japanese beetles flying around biting us. But, the mosquitoes are mostly gone, so it’s a fair trade.
When summer turns into autumn, it’s not a bad thing. School starts, everybody goes back to work, and the nights are better for sleeping.
However, when fall turns into winter, it’s a different story. It’s like for no good reason nature suddenly hates us. We get used to it, but the transition can be pretty rough.
We don’t get top ten lists on late night television anymore, so I thought I’d share a list of reasons why autumn is special.
10. Pumpkin-spice flavoring now available in every conceivable food and drink.
9. Leaves in yard cover up weeds.
8. Football on television helps keep our minds off of politics. Oops. Scratch that one.
7. NHL playoffs are finally over.
6. Walks in woods made more interesting by flying arrows and bullets.
5. Last year’s Christmas decorations taken down to make room for this year’s Halloween decorations.
4. Homework, and after school activities reduce awkward family time.
3. Summer-tanned skin returns to normal pasty color.
2. Realization that the 37 house and yard projects can’t possibly get done again this year.
1. Putting away the lawn mower, roto-tiller, and weed-whacker, and getting the snow-blower ready to roll.
That’s my top ten list, for what it’s worth.
Seasons come and go as long as we’re around to notice them. Some places don’t have the weather differences we have, but those places haven’t been too great for living lately.
So, I guess we might just as well embrace autumn for what may be its best quality: namely, that it isn’t winter.
I travel quite a bit, and it occurred to me one day that there seem like an endless number of model names on travel trailers and motor homes. So, I spent a month writing down most of those that I saw, and it made me ponder why each name appeals to certain buyers.
Place names: Montana, Flagstaff, Rio, Salem, Laredo, Outback, Springdale, Scottsdale, Tuscany, Durango, Alaskan, and Sanibel. Each name evokes someplace special – warm, wild, remote, festive. It’s interesting that cars share some of these names.
General or imagined place names: Chaparral, Hideout, Summerland, Wilderness, Wildwood, Eagle Cove, Alpine, North Star, Cedar Creek, Sun Stream, Cottage, and Chateau. These models include a hideout, a place where the sun streams, or a cove for eagles. Maybe the best: Summerland.
Native related: Seneca, Cherokee, Nomad, Warrior, and Sundance. Nomads and warriors are not necessarily American, but these names relate, I think, to a connection with the earth.
Types of people: Challenger, Sprinter, Scamp, Sportsman, Coachman, Sun Voyager, Adventurer, Forester, Cruiser, Outlaw, and Prowler. A forester sounds pretty boring compared to outlaws and prowlers, but boring isn’t a bad thing.
Animals that eat other animals: Puma, Raptor, Wildcat, Eagle, Cougar, Coyote, White Hawk, and Nite Hawk. Maybe a lot of us have some aggression we want to dissipate while we’re on vacation?
Non-threatening animals: Jay Feather, Mallard, Cub, Palomino, and Cardinal. These are all great animals. Note, please, that there are no motorhomes I’m aware of named “Possum.”
The superlatives: Apex, Quantum, Micro-Light, Titanium, Bravo, Pinnacle, and Infinity. These companies really want you to know how good their trailers are. I’m not sure how much actual titanium is in the Titanium, by the way.
What you plan to do: Spree, Road Trek, Reflection, Journey, Solitude, and Fun Finder. Journey, Solitude and Reflection don’t play well with Spree and Fun Finder.
Careful what you wish for: Firestorm, Cyclone, Storm, Daybreak, Four Winds, Foxfire, and Shadow Cruiser. All these things seem exciting, on paper.
Don’t mess with these: Sabre, Voltage, Bullet, Zinger, and Attitude. The last thing I need is a trailer with an attitude.
Finally, the people at Winnebago have the cutest/dumbest name, in my opinion. It’s a scaled down version called the Minnie-Winnie. I don’t think it has an attitude.
There are more, but I think we can conclude that we can all find a motorhome that fits our personalities and need for affirmation. The name I was really hoping to find was “Easy to Back Up.”
Tom Petty of “Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers” died on Monday. It was the same day that dozens of people were killed by a lunatic with machine guns in Las Vegas, so Tom’s passing didn’t get as much attention as it might have. Here’s my little effort to note his death and life.
I never owned one of Tom Petty’s records, though I always enjoyed the songs of his that were on the radio. He did some solo albums, and some with “The Heartbreakers.”
His song topics tended to be pretty dark, perhaps due to his own demons. In an interview with his good friend Stevie Nicks, of “Fleetwood Mac” fame, she said she spent a lot of time with Petty, helping to keep him from damaging himself. Both were known to be serious consumers of drugs, including cocaine at one time.
Some of Tom Petty’s songs I especially like include “Breakdown,” “Free Fallin’,” “Don’t Do Me Like That,” “I Won’t Back Down,” and “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” with Stevie Nicks.
Interestingly, back in the early days of the Fox TV network, Garry Shandling had a somewhat odd situation comedy – odd in that he would sometimes stroll into the studio audience, among other things. In that show, Tom Petty was a “neighbor” with whom Garry would have short conversations, and Tom’s answers would be short and to the point. He didn’t banter.
I say the Shandling/Petty connection is interesting, because Garry Shandling died just a few months ago as well.
In the universe of rock and rock and roll, I think Tom Petty had an honesty to his music, and a poetry to his lyrics, that elevated him above many other performers.
Tom Petty was 66 years old, and he had just returned from a 50 day tour a week ago. He said he didn’t want to do tours like that anymore because he wanted to spend more time with his grandchild.
I guess when artists die we feel the loss through our memories of their work, and maybe also the loss of what they might have been able to create if they had lived longer.
Funny that Tom Petty would turn out to be a heartbreaker in the end.
High school football fans have cheerleaders to help them cheer for the home team. There are also some unauthorized cheers, and one of them ends with the phrase (and actions) “…stand up, sit down, fight, fight, fight!” That cheer came to mind last weekend as the NFL National Anthem controversy continued.
People have strong opinions on players not standing for the National Anthem. The same people have opinions on whether children should be required to say the Pledge of Allegiance. And, I guess flag burning is probably mixed in as well.
I grew up in a time when respect for our country was assumed. People put hands on hearts and took off hats for The Anthem and the flag. My family also took it seriously. I still do today.
The people protesting have the right to do it, as do the statue haters. Kneeling before a game is surely a better avenue of protest than burning down buildings and throwing rocks at police.
A wise man once told me that with people there will always be an “us” and a “them.” Just who the “us” and “them” are changes – sometimes in a heartbeat, like the morning of 9/11/2001.
You can have labor and management, men and women, brothers and sisters, Republicans and Democrats, Christians and Muslims, blacks and whites… it’s just a human tendency to want to be part of a group and identify another group that is in opposition.
Nothing good generally comes of it, of course. Rather than working together, energy is expended on the battle between “us” and “them.” And, sometimes there is a true “them” out there threatening us while we aren’t paying attention.
The funny thing is that football teams face the ultimate “us” and “them” fight every week. I wonder how much that has changed now that the additional “us” and “them” of kneelers and standers have emerged.
Of course, everybody has something loud to say about it, including the President and the President’s supporters and opponents and the opponents of the opponents.
It’s really a shame. There are so many wonderful things about our country about which we should all be grateful. And there is also a lot of work to do, including looking honestly at the issues the protesters are protesting.
All the “us” and “them” stuff just divides us. I’m not sure how that can possibly help us Americans accomplish anything positive.
I’m pretty sure I’ve written about this topic before, but I feel like it must be revisited. Why? Mostly because it’s a pet peeve, and you have to feed your pets.
The topic revolves around two types of commercials. One tells you you don’t have to pay your credit card bills, and the other tells you you don’t have to pay your taxes.
Some of the credit repair commercials say something like this: “The credit card companies try to trick you into believing that you have to pay them what you owe…” Imagine! Some big company that loaned you a bunch of money wants you to pay it back! The nerve!
The truth is that credit card companies will sometimes cut their losses, accepting less than they are owed, rather than spending the money on litigation, and maybe getting nothing. The thought that the blame in such a situation is with the companies is ludicrous. Nobody put a gun to the card holder’s head forcing them to make purchases they couldn’t afford.
The other hot-button ads tout the success a certain company has helping their clients not pay the taxes they owe. “I owed $60,000, but I only had to pay $900!” It kind of makes those of us who pay what we owe feel like chumps.
As with the credit card companies, the government allows some people to pay less than they owe rather than spending more than that on litigation. Other people in that situation go to jail, or go on a forever payment plan. I’m not sure what the difference is.
Here’s the ugly truth: people who don’t pay their credit card bills are responsible for interest rates for those cards being as high as they are. In the long run, consumers pay – not the credit card companies.
And, someone not paying their taxes results in a higher debt for the country. It’s absurdly high anyway, but that’s not the point.
Of course, many people rack up great debt trying to survive after horrible tragedy, health expenses, or the loss of a job. I’m all in favor of those people getting help. Likewise, major reversals in someone’s life can pose problems in paying taxes. I get that.
Some people don’t understand that when we borrow money, it isn’t our money. We’re using somebody else’s money, and we have to pay it back.
Sometimes credit is a useful tool, and sometimes it deceives us into thinking we can afford something we cannot. We are responsible for making that distinction.
Not only is “Stormy Weather” a great song written by Harold Arlen and Ted Koehler, but it also describes what’s going on in much of the country. Two major hurricanes so far in the South, and drought and forest fires in the West. If only the hurricanes could put out the fires… but, that’s not how weather works.
After experiencing water in our basement from time to time over the years (we’re finally dealing with it this fall), and Shop-Vacuuming up 40 gallons or so over the course of this spring and summer, it’s hard to fathom (pun not intended, but enjoyed) having a basement filled with water up to the attic.
The scenes from Texas and Florida, among other states, make me feel a little embarrassed for having groused about the minor inconvenience we experienced. I’d bet that farmers and others who have dealt with the excess of rain this year are feeling a better sense of perspective too.
Brush fires and forest fires are a part of nature, but that statement holds little solace for someone who has had to evacuate, or has lost their home and possessions due to a fast-moving fire.
Among the things that fires and floods have in common is, too often, the loss of those possessions. As we’ve heard from various governors and FEMA spokespeople, things can be replaced, and people cannot. That’s all true, and a good reminder. But not everything can be replaced.
How about that photograph of a beloved relative, or the wedding photos that meant so much. Sure, you can replace a house and furniture, but a home where a lifetime of memories reside is a significant loss to a family.
People in the Midwest lose houses and other property due to storms and, occasionally, fires. People rebuild, and also rebuild their life story, complete with new memories.
Over the past year or so we’ve been attempting to go through our things to see what we should keep, and what we should give away. Those decisions are really hard sometimes. The two main questions are: Will this item be useful for us someday, and, does this item hold memories that are too rich to lose.
Sadly, the people who experience hurricane floods or brush fires don’t have the chance to make those decisions. Viewing the losses of life and property many families have withstood is a reminder that our stuff is more expendable than we may think, and that friends and family are our only true riches.
I have a photograph in my head. It’s from 1977 at a big conference hotel… maybe the Sahara in Las Vegas. I’m the one on the left. The one on the right is Jerry Lewis.
Just out of college and recently married, I took a job with MDA – the Muscular Dystrophy Association – earlier that year. It was my first “real” job, and my first national conference. There were probably 500 people in attendance, and I was the youngest and least experienced. So inexperienced that I didn’t know any of the unspoken rules, such as, nobody on the MDA staff was allowed to talk to MDA’s famous chairman and Labor Day Telethon host.
In that photograph in my brain I can see the younger me happening upon Mr. Lewis before a luncheon for which he was to be the guest speaker. I politely said, “Excuse me, Mr. Lewis. It is an honor to meet you.”
He said, “thank you,” and we each went our own way – me by myself, and he with his cadre of minions.
About three minutes later, as I sat down in the ballroom for lunch, my new boss put his hands on my shoulders and asked me to come with him. Out in the hall, he asked me if I had talked to Jerry Lewis, and I said I had. He turned whiter, put his hand on his forehead, and apologized to me for not telling me that staff couldn’t do that. He said he could probably keep me from being fired.
I’m pretty sure Jerry didn’t complain about me, but his “keepers” surely did.
I don’t remember what kind of chicken we had for lunch, but the memory of that day has obviously stayed with me.
As you know, Jerry Lewis died last month. His death resurrected a number of my MDA memories. Most of them were good. For seven years I helped tell the story about neuromuscular diseases, and helped raise money for research and patient care.
I also gained a lot of respect for Jerry Lewis. In all his years working for MDA he gave an inestimable amount of blood, sweat, and tears, and was much more than a figurehead. His speeches showed a real knowledge of the diseases and the on-going research. He was truly committed.
Now, 40 years later, progress in treating those diseases has been made, thanks to the money he helped raise. It was good to remember my “brush with greatness,” and to consider the small part I played in MDA’s efforts.
As my 21st year of writing this column is on the horizon this fall, I’ve decided to give you, and me, a break for the rest of this summer, with new columns starting again in September. I really enjoy writing each week, but a little time off will be good.
Before I vacate, so to speak, I have a couple of things I’d like to share.
On Sunday I had an early flight at Dane County Airport. Regular fliers know about something called TSA PrePass that entitles the traveler to keep their shoes and belts on while going through security. I fly enough that the powers that be have decided I’m safe, so I usually get that designation on my ticket. But not Sunday.
I took off my shoes and belt and put my wallet and other items into my briefcase. As I stood in the scanner, I felt confident that I had followed the rules. I was mistaken. I was asked to step to the side to be “patted down.” I asked the officer if it was a random search, and he said it wasn’t. The problem was that my pants were too loose.
I explained that the looseness was precipitated by the taking off of my belt at their request. He sternly told me I should pull them up next time.
First of all, they weren’t down around my ankles. Second, you have to raise your hands over your head in the scanner. Ever tried to hold up your pants while putting your hands over your head?
It was all fine, and in fact my finely tuned sense of irony enjoyed it very much.
Between work travel and family activities I’ve had a hard time getting enough gardening time in, but I made some progress last week. As I was on the ground pulling weeds the other day, I saw something out of the corner of my eye – if eyes do indeed have corners. It turned out it was a toad. This toad could have fit very easily on a dime. I wondered if it eats bugs, or if bugs eat it.
I watched a “Ted Talk” that starred a professor who talked about an interesting concept. As part of a bigger topic, he told of something called the “O-ring” principle. The idea is that, like the o-rings that failed, causing the horrible Challenger space shuttle disaster, the most important part of anything – irrespective of the size or cost of it – is the part that doesn’t work.
I’ve been pondering that ever since. What small parts of my life, my job, or my relationships is the most important, because it doesn’t work? I think I’ll spend the summer thinking about that. And, as the Four Seasons famously sang, “See You In September.”
I think social media has exploded to the point that it’s time to differentiate different kinds of sites. Just as the radio industry came up with formats like Country or Oldies, I think Facebook and the others should diversify as well. Here are some suggestions:
Fakebook: This would be reserved for posts that aren’t true.
Farcebook: A site devoted to silly and absurd stories that could be real or made up.
Forkbook: Foodies (oh, how I hate that word) could share recipes and pictures of their meals on this site so the rest of us wouldn’t have to see them.
Funkbook: This one would be tricky. It would include posts from people who just can’t seem to get motivated along with posts regarding James Brown, Rick James, and other funk artists.
Fleecebook: Another tricky one. Catering to people who like to hand-spin wool and to people who are interested in con artists within or outside of government.
Fencebook: Devoted to the grass always being greener on the other side, poking each other with swords, and sitting atop something trying to make a decision.
Frenchbook: Fries, kissing, and the country.
Fastbook: A blending of Twitter and Snapchat, wherein posts can only be 10 words, and they disappear in ten seconds. Also for people who aren’t eating.
Firstbook: The first time you do anything, post it. Except maybe that one thing.
Fishbook: The domain of largemouth bass, as opposed to Facebook, which has big mouth humans.
Twitter should have some competition too.
Twit-er: This site is reserved for twits.
Tweeter: Bird fans and high-frequency audio fans will enjoy this. See also “Woofer,” for bass and dog fans.
Titter: For people who like to laugh quietly.
Tweener: For kids who aren’t quite teenagers yet.
Twister: This is for people who love tornadoes and/or putting their hands and feet on brightly colored circles.
Twofer: If you can get two for the price of one, why not?
Twainer: This is for fans of Mark Twain and for Elmer Fudd riding the rails.
Teeter: For every totter there has to be a teeter. This site is for people who don’t know which side they’ll come down on.
So you see, even though there are tons of social media sites, there will always be room for more. Honestly, I didn’t check to see if some of those I’ve mentioned already exist.
And, there is another option: Turn off the devices and actually interact with people. It’s just a thought.
Ten years ago, or so, I read what somebody had to say about personal computers. Their point was that if washing machines or refrigerators were as unreliable as computers, people wouldn’t stand for it. And, for anyone who has had on-going fights with their computer, it is a wonder that we tolerate them.
Oh sure, computers have gotten better and easier to use. And, most of us have become better at problem-solving the issues that come up. But, that being said, there are times when it’s good that I don’t have any dynamite around the house.
In recent weeks my computer has become reluctant to do certain things, like connect wirelessly to the internet. It connects, then disconnects. I go some troubleshooting to resolve the problem so it will work again, which it does. Until it doesn’t. In a recent two-hours trying to get online at a McDonald’s, I would estimate that I was actually able to function properly for 15 minutes.
Things do wear out, and the smaller we make the components of our electrical devices, the more fragile they seem to be. So, I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising that computers work less well over time.
In addition, all our fears about malicious software, viruses, Trojan horses, and programs that hold your data hostage, we keep adding more software to protect what we have. I’m convinced that all that security software actually makes our computers run poorly.
A decade ago, I spilled 32 ounces of Mountain Dew on a computer. I could hear it sizzle as the cold soda hit the warm circuits. I wasn’t surprised when that computer stopped working. Other than that one, and one that had a hard drive give up the ghost, the computers I’ve moved on from generally still work, but only very slowly and intermittently.
Getting back to the quote, I really wouldn’t put up with a refrigerator that sometimes didn’t keep food cold, or a washing machine that wouldn’t open.
Yep, when computers get older, they don’t work very well. And, if the truth be told, my knees, ankles, ears, and memory don’t work as well as they once did either. And, don’t even talk to me if I get a virus.
At least when computers get a virus you don’t have to blow their noses.
Do you ever find yourself reading the paper or looking at the internet when you see a headline that both makes you wonder, and makes you not want to know what it’s about?
I did some checking around for some recent headlines that qualify. They come from various web sites, though most articles were originated from the Associated Press.
I have provided some commentary, for better or worse.
1.“Man Does Yoga in Nude on Street.” (Namaste)
2.“Thieves Using Blow-torch End Up Igniting Cash Inside ATM.” ( )
3.“White People-free Day on Campus.” (So, did the white people get a free day, or was the campus free of white people? Either way, why?”
4.“Morgue Worker Arrested for Stealing Drugs from Corpse’s Stomach.” (Urp)
5.“Japan Bathhouse Offers ‘Naked School” to Lure Bathers.” (They should move out to the street and do yoga first.)
6.“Robot ‘Beams Light’ from Hands – Gives Blessing.” (And it’s not creepy at all!)
7.“Hunter Crushed by Collapsing Elephant After Shot.” (Definition of irony)
8.“Funeral Expo Digs Up Hottest Death Trends.” (Not #4 above)
You know those info-mercials? Yeah, that’s right. The ones that include the phrase “It’s just that easy!” First of all, I doubt that it is just that easy, whatever the product is. Second of all, I’m not sure what in life is just that easy.
We had a nice plan on Sunday. Go to church, have lunch, visit some sales, go to the “Rendezvous” in Fort Atkinson, and go to Frostee Freeze. It seemed simple enough.
As we pulled up to the church in Edgerton, rather than seeing lots of cars parked outside we saw a couple of cars with people getting out, and a couple with people getting in. As it turns out, there was no 10:30 service that day – a fact we, and the other people there, later remembered hearing about. Strike one.
So, we poked around at an antique store and went to lunch. That went well.
After visiting a couple of sales, we drove to Fort Atkinson for the Rendezvous, only to find that it was closed, with the various buckskin-wearing exhibitors folding up their tents and packing away their historical relics. The rain from the night before made the grounds too soupy, I guess. So, that was strike two.
After working in the garden and having a late dinner at home, we headed to Frostee Freeze, certain that they were open until 10pm. Wrong. We got there at 9:10 and the lights were out, making the 25 or so people still in line look kind-of ghostly. We probably could have snuck into the end of the line, but those workers need their free time too. Strike three.
All in all it was a very nice day, despite those three swings and misses. We had a nice lunch, enjoyed being outside in the garden, and saw a bunch of deer – including a new fawn – on our ill-fated ice cream run.
Poet Robert Burns said, “The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.” Or, as we say in modern-day America, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. I remember reading a Facebook post, T-shirt, or bumper sticker that said, “When we make plans, God smiles.” So, apparently God has a sense of irony. Great.
My personal philosophy is that when things go wrong, remember and appreciate all the times things went just fine. It’s only fair.
We know where we want to go, but we’re not sure how to get there. In days gone by, we would have found a paper map, and decided on a route to take. Generally, that was an effective way to get to your destination.
The down-side of using a map was that driving while looking at a map is not very safe, especially when the map is about the same size as the windshield.
Modern technology has answers to these problems. First there were navigational devices like the Garmin. Simply enter the address of where you want to go, and the Garmin would magically plot a course for you.
More recently, “smart” phones have applications that accomplish the same thing, without needing to carry another device. Google Maps, for one, can even change your route in the event of traffic delays, which is very helpful.
Navigation devices can also be very entertaining, like when they’re wrong. One day I was in a rush to return my rental car to the Nashville airport. I asked Google Maps to take me to the Nashville airport rental car return area, and as I carefully followed each instruction I found myself in a FAA secured area several miles from where I wanted to be. The police officer was not pleased with me.
The thing is, when the device is sending you off on a wild goose chase you need to decide whether to trust it, or go with your instincts. Since they are correct 90 something percent of the time, I tend to trust them.
What these devices lack is the context that a map provides. “Turn right, turn left” is what you need to know, but you miss out on the map’s ability to help you see the forest AND the trees.
Navigating in a car is a little like navigating through life. We have to have help in getting where we want to go, accomplishing what we want to accomplish, and being who we want to be. Knowing which life-guides to trust, and when to go with our instincts.
People join cults, succumb to popular culture fads, or follow a religion or a time-proven philosophy. Or, most frequently, I think, they just kind-of drive around though their lives, not thinking of what their destination should be.
Sometimes I need to think about where it is I want to go. Then I can choose the tools that can help me get there. Seeing the big picture – the life-map, so to speak – is probably the best way to reliably get there with the fewest wrong turns.
The character named Sheldon on the “Big Bang Theory” television show is socially very unaware. He is only interested in having things his way, and doesn’t understand why that can’t always be the case. A person like that sounds horrible, but the people around him understand that he is that way because of how his genius brain is wired. So, they abide by his many rules, like his ban on whistling.
I was thinking that Sheldon imagines himself to be the center of the world. Kind of like a king, I guess. WGN radio host John Williams used to do a feature called, “If I were King,” in which he told listeners what he would chance in the world if he could.
So, I’d like to share some things I’d do, or undo, if I were king.
First, the duck-billed platypus would be called just a platypus. It’s the only type, why get so specific? Second, I would get a pet donkey and name him “Hotay” in homage to “Don Quixote.” I’d get a zebra and call her “Spot.” I’d breed a Chihuahua and a border collie, and call their pups south-of-the-border collies.
I would make airlines board planes in this order: 1. Window seats. 2. Middle seats. 3. Aisle seats. And, since they allow a roller bag and a “personal item,” I’d make sure the personal item isn’t the size of a tuba.
Anyone who used the word “free” before the word “gift” would be forced to wash their mouth out with soap. By definition, a gift is free. No need to say it.
I’d open a store that has a door that looks like a Mason jar. I’d call the store “The Door Is A Jar.” In it I’d sell jars that look like doors.
If I were king, I’d make sure all shoes were available in widths, and that shirts were available in the rare XLT size.
I would require all 18 year-olds thinking about college to take and pass a course on the wonders of debt before putting themselves in a deep hole before they even attend their first class. I might also ask universities to explain in detail why an education that used to cost $10,000 now costs $100,000.
Then I’d rule that every subject – and me, the king – would live by the following code: Personal Responsibility.
When the middle of May rolls around I sometimes pause to reflect on my days as a youth. The reflection is getting dimmer with the passing years, but some things are still quite clear.
The elementary and middle school I attended was on the UW-Oshkosh campus, and we kept the same school year schedule as the university. So, our summer vacation began in mid-May.
I think we always ended the school year with a picnic in the park, cleaned out our desks (“So THAT’s where that sandwich went!”) and headed off to freedom.
For two weeks the other schools in town were still in session, so we felt pretty lucky. We could avoid learning for two extra weeks!
One year I went home with a guy I knew whose family lived on the lake. We watched TV for a while and then decided to go swimming.
He had a great idea. We’d run down to the end of the dock and
jump in. Ready, set, go, and we were off. But, as a shore dweller he knew that the water temperature was about 50 degrees, so he stopped short and enjoyed watching me hit the water. I’ve never done a polar plunge, so I can’t compare, but it literally took my breath away to hit that water.
Notice, please, that I didn’t refer to that guy I knew as a friend.
For that first few weeks I mostly watched daytime TV — which in the days before cable didn’t offer much – rode my bike around town, and played one version or another of baseball. I’d bounce a tennis ball off the garage, play with friends in the school yard, or play catch with my dad before dinner.
My parents didn’t make me get a summer job, and in fact I didn’t have one until after my senior year in high school. As a result I had plenty of time to be a goofy kid, and not enough money to get in much trouble.
About the worst things I was involved in involved sleepovers. Somebody’s dad had some adult magazines. May I just say, with all due respect, Jayne Mansfield.
And one evening around dusk two of us thought it would be funny to stand at opposite sides of the street and pretend we were holding a rope. One driver stopped abruptly, yelled at us, and even chased us. It was strangely satisfying to be a little bad.
Anyway, mid-May is different for adults. But, since we’re kids first before we’re grown-ups, I guess we can always access those memories and have a smile or two.
Or, we can remember that cold May water, and grimace.
I recently attended a conference in San Francisco. I know the city is a favorite of many people, including Tony Bennett, and I understand the allure. The sights to see are breathtaking, from the Golden Gate to the beautiful shoreline to the row houses (think “Full House”).
There are other breathtaking things in San Francisco. My hotel was located about four blocks from the convention center, so twice a day I had the opportunity to enjoy some fresh air – and some not-so-fresh air.
Just as San Francisco has embraced illegal aliens, they have, for many years, embraced a group of people covered under the umbrella term of “The Homeless.” Included in that group are folks who enjoy scamming the public for loose change (will work for food—but not really), drug and drink abusers, people truly down on their luck because of changes in their lives, and, perhaps most notably, the mentally ill.
I’m a real believer in the “There, but for the grace of God go I” school of thought. As such, I try not to judge people who don’t share my good fortune. Certainly the mentally ill on the streets have no responsibility for their situation. The decision by society to de-institutionalize many of those people is mostly to blame.
It’s hard to think it is okay, though, when it’s necessary to step over someone’s outstretched legs to pass by, or to smell the urine soaked blanket on the fellow sleeping next to the sidewalk. I saw one guy doing very angry-looking karate poses, attacking nobody in particular, but menacing anyone who walked by.
A pair of sneakers sat neatly under a bus stop bench all day. Meanwhile, a man hobbled by with one boot on.
I only got pan-handled once, and that person seemed to be fully lucid as he dragged his sleeping bag behind him. Others had cups for hand-outs, but were passive about it.
San Francisco is just one city with what I would consider to be a homeless problem. Madison certainly has its own issues. Two times, when I worked on the UW campus, I was approached in restaurants and asked for part of my lunch.
Some cities make it harder for people to be homeless by arresting them to get them “in the system” for help. Some cities literally buy one-way bus tickets to solve their problem.
I have no idea what the ultimate solution is. The mentally ill need care. The addicted need to want and receive help. The down-on-their-luck need another chance. Smarter people than I will need to figure out the details.
Creative sorts are often said to be inspired by their muse. Sometimes it’s a real person, and sometimes that muse might be an ethereal, mysterious entity of some sort. The original muses were said to be daughters of the god Zeus. There were nine of them (imagine the wedding expenses!) and they inspired creativity in all the arts.
Another meaning is in the verb form. To muse means to ponder something. Interestingly, to amuse is to divert someone from serious things. In other words, if I told you that a horse walked into a bar and the bartender said, “Why the long face?” you would have forgotten all about muses.
I probably spend too much time musing over things. That doesn’t mean I come up with any answers, God forbid, but I enjoy posing the questions. Here are some.
·Did Johnny Appleseed have a sister named Joanie Tulipbulb?
·If our country is deeply in debt, and if in a government shutdown only essential services are provided, why are we providing non-essential services in the first place?
·If you took the same amount of probiotics and antibiotics, would your number of biotics remain the same?
·Isn’t the term “settled science” contrary to the spirit of the scientific method?
·Exactly what problem are driverless cars solving?
·If flying cars are good, and driverless cars are good (you see where I’m going, right?) then flying driverless cars will be great! What could possibly go wrong?
·Are bird cardinals named after the Catholic cardinals, or the other way around?
·If Stephen Hawking and other smart people say that artificial intelligence in robots will doom the human race, why do we keep developing them?
·How come nobody ever graduates from the Electoral College? Is there an electoral high school?
·If phones can turn text into voice, and voice into text, why do we need them?
So, those are my musings. I wasn’t inspired by a muse, but rather by the little part of my brain that
asks these sorts of questions. I hope you were amused.
I just completed my 16th year at my current job. Several of my colleagues sent nice emails to acknowledge my job longevity. I still feel like the new kid at school, but that probably has more to do with my personality, since I can’t remember NOT feeling that way at a job.
My previous job lasted 17 years, and the job before that for seven years. You could say that I don’t jump around a lot. It’s either loyalty or inertia, or a lack of confidence that there will be something else out there who would hire me.
Counting a temporary job operating a candle-making machine just out of college, I’ve been working full time for more than 40 years. In addition, I’ve been writing this column for more than 20 years, and I’ve done consulting, teaching, and other writing over the years in addition to my “day job.”
What do I have to say about work after these 40 years? Well, the things in my life that give me the most satisfaction are my family, my garden, and the fact that I still have some hair. But down deep, the motor that keeps me running has always been my jobs.
Having something that feels important to do every day, and to be compensated for those efforts, gives a deep satisfaction that I think people take for granted – until they find themselves without a job.
Of course, not everyone can work, and not all work generates income. That being said, I’m glad to read reports that indicate some people who had given up on being in our nation’s workforce are re-entering the job market. Having a job, or being otherwise needed, is like an anti-depression treatment.
Has every day at work over 40 years been pleasant? Absolutely not. Anything that involves other people (not of your choosing) is guaranteed to generate stress, anger, attempted murder…
But, sometimes job satisfaction comes from learning to deal with “difficult” people and situations. Failure and other disappointments happen all the time in a career, but if you play your cards right, so do successes and satisfaction.
I’ve been fortunate to have my career result in each job being better than the one before. Perhaps, when the time comes, retirement will be the best job yet!
One of the Ten Commandments (known in some circles as the Ten Suggestions) talks about not coveting your neighbor’s house. Covet isn’t a word we use a lot in these truly non-biblical times, but it centers around envy. If your neighbors are the Jones family, and you’ve been trying to keep up with them, apparently you should stop.
Like many cable channels, Home and Garden Television (HGTV) has evolved from its original mission to focus mostly on programs that involve buying, fixing-up, selling, or tearing down homes. Because we’re in the era we’re in, all the shows share the reality show trappings of “Survivor” and “Iron Chef,” but in different ways. There is always a deadline, and “…I don’t know if we’re gonna make it in time…” excitement going on – even if it isn’t necessary.
We don’t have cable or satellite TV, but when we’re away at a place that does have HGTV, we enjoy watching some of the shows. Chip and Joanna Gaines’ “Fixer Uppers” is interesting and fun, and usually involves nice people buying inexpensive houses which the Gaines then, well, fix-up.
That show has unexpected obstacles, delays, additional expenses and such, but they tend to be a little more believable. But mostly, Chip and Joanna seem like nice people who love each other and value their children and community in a sincere way. Sincere is something missing from a lot of television shows.
Some of the other HGTV shows aren’t as enjoyable to me. When a couple in their mid-20’s has a budget of $1.5 million to buy a house, but can’t find anything that suits them, I kind of want to slap them. One partner or the other finds the littlest thing to complain about, and I’m left being grateful that I’m not married to that person.
Admittedly, I’m not a slave to home-design fashion, but I understand that to some people having the perfect house is important. I’ve tried never to be envious of others’ wealth – or covet their houses – but there is such a thing as being spoiled and entitled.
But, I guess that’s part of what makes the programs interesting. Every story needs a villain and comic relief.
An interesting contrast are the programs about mini-homes with 200 square feet of living space instead of 2,000. I like to call those mini-homes divorce factories, unless neither party ever “needs their space.”
So, basically I guess the lesson is that we shouldn’t covet our neighbor’s house, but it’s okay to watch them covet someone else’s house – especially if their neighbor is named Jones.
There is no arguing that the internet has changed our lives, and those of people around the world. Only the most remote villages, it seems, have no access to the World Wide Web. And cellular technology has expanded the reach and access to the Web even further.
As a result, we can share interesting photos and videos – mostly of cats – with our various groups of friends and other connections. All in all, that’s not a bad thing, and can be very interesting and even inspiring.
Live-streaming even allows us to gaze at the waves on a beach, peek into an eagle’s nest at the young eaglets, view our homes when we are away, and most recently, watch a giraffe labor and give birth.
Hundreds of thousands of people have been checking in with April the giraffe, waiting for her calf to drop the eight feet or so to the ground. Those hundreds of thousands of people will have the chance to see something that only a handful of humans would otherwise have seen.
There’s also a downside. Cameras are everywhere these days, and they sometimes catch people doing horrible things, or having bad things happen to them. There seems to be no limit to what on-line videos show, with terrible storms, car accidents, and human criminal activity – even gang rapes and murder.
And, onlookers with smart phones have often recorded fights and attacks rather than intervening to help.
Highly produced “reality” television gives us versions of what human behavior and nature can be like, both good and bad. The real-reality of giraffe-cams and many of the other things captured on camera can be overwhelming in both good and bad ways, depending on what we choose to watch.
Fake fights on Jerry Springer, or real fights captured on a cell phone in a subway – neither one is beneficial for us to watch. A video of a proud child accomplishing something special, or someone helping someone – those things can lift our moods and maybe even our souls.
There is a term – GIGO – which stands for “garbage in – garbage out.” It applies to computer programming and such things, but I think it applies to our brains as well. I try to avoid things that are inhuman or inhumane, or things that show the worst in humanity. Sometimes the other stuff is pretty entertaining, but not so good for me.
Maybe the point is that we’re doing too much watching. Maybe actually doing something good would be a better use of our time.
In addition to a couple of birthday announcements and a video of a squirrel that got stuck trying to crawl into a hole on a tree, there was something of particular interest to me on Facebook this morning.
The headline, which you can probably search for if you’re interested, caught my attention: “Harvard Thinks It Has Found The New Einstein – And She’s 23.”
The person’s name is Sabrina Gonzales Pasterski, and she is very smart. She flew a plane for the first time at age nine. Oh, and she BUILT a plane at age 14, and flew it across Lake Michigan.
She got her Bachelor’s degree from MIT in three years with the highest possible grade point, and now works on her PhD at Harvard, but not in the way most people do. She researches and does what she wants, with no interference from faculty.
She has published dozens of papers, and is considered to be one of the most accomplished physicists in the world.
Judging by the photos that accompany the article, published on the website called Second Nexus, she looks normal – whatever that means. I mention that only in reference to Einstein’s famous crazy hair look.
The article talks about how physics has become more popular as a major – particularly among young women, which is a departure from the past.
There is also an interesting story told by Sabrina, who, upon mentioning to a high school teacher that she had first flown a plane at age nine, heard this reply from her teacher: “That’s nice. What have you done lately?”
Sabrina says that has inspired her ever since.
I’m thinking that these days my motto should be something similar: “When are you going to do something?” But, that’s probably a little self-critical.
The idea of resting on laurels is best if you have some upon which to rest. If not, or if so, the idea of moving forward to more challenges and accomplishments is a good one
People talk about having skeletons in their closets. That’s nothing, compared to what ends up in basements. At least, our basement.
We aren’t hoarders, thankfully, but we do have a tendency to hang on to things that might be useful someday. I know that’s a lot like the definition of a hoarder, but it’s more a matter of not wanting to waste things that are too good to throw away. As you know, the day you finally get rid of that one widget you’ve been saving, you find yourself going out to buy one.
Our basement tends to attract things that are hurriedly removed from the “public” part of our house if company comes on short notice. That often results in the household equivalent of the Federal Witness Protection Program. We’re likely to discover it years later—sometimes having no recollection of having purchased it in the first place.
Memories live in basements too. I think it’s important to save some things that remind us of our pasts, but there comes a time when serious sifting and winnowing must take place.
There are also mysteries. Why, with one cross country skier in the house, do we have four pairs of skis? Why do we still have the molding we took off the wall in our bedroom in 1985? What in the world is that paint from?
And, you know those independent socks that manage to disappear? I think they hide in the basement amidst the dust bunnies. And, since ours is an old country house, we have waged an on-going war against mice, which means there’s always the chance that reaching into a dark corner might result in the discovery of a years-old trap. Sometimes they’re still set, resulting in a startling “snap!”
It would be great to discover treasure or historically significant stuff when cleaning the basement, but that’s highly unlikely. More likely is the possibility of finding something that you swore up and down to someone that you did not have. Oops.
Getting rid of what isn’t useful is a good thing. Sometimes our brains and hearts benefit from the same process. Basements are about looking backwards and not letting go. Looking forward is a much better idea.
Here’s to clean basements, and hearts and minds with a focus on what’s to come, and not what’s stuck away inside us gathering dust.
The Beatles – as a group, and later as individual musicians – wrote and performed a lot of great music. Some songs were beautiful and poetic, and some were edgy and controversial. One John Lennon song is generally considered to be beautiful and poetic, but I’ve come to think of it as being controversial as well.
“Imagine” is probably his most famous post-Beatles song. At its best it is an anthem picturing happiness and world peace. At its worst, it suggests some things that many people wouldn’t accept.
Not everybody is religious, and that’s fine. Our country was founded on principles that allowed anyone to worship, or not. John Lennon’s vision isn’t as tolerant. Here are some “Imagine” lines that deal with religion:
“Imagine there’s no heaven It’s easy if you try No hell below us Above us only sky”
“Nothing to kill or die for And no religion, too”
In addition, he perhaps anticipated the desire by some people to open up the US borders.
“Imagine there’s no countries It isn’t hard to do Nothing to kill or die for…”
And, taking a page out of the Karl Marx philosophy of communism, he says this:
“Imagine no possessions I wonder if you can No need for greed or hunger A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people Sharing all the world…”
I don’t know about you, but I’m not in favor of a world without religion or borders or possessions. I am, however, in favor of a peaceful world where all people can thrive and prosper without fear of war or other inhumanity. So, I agree with Lennon’s conclusion:
“You may say I’m a dreamer But I’m not the only one I hope someday you’ll join us And the world will be as one”
That is a beautiful goal. Many younger people may not be aware that between the communist revolutions in China, Russia, and Cuba, some estimate upwards of 100 million people were killed. Those revolutionaries hoped that eliminating people who didn’t agree with their plan would make the “world be as one.”
I love John Lennon’s music, including “Imagine.” It’s very catchy and has a nice overall dream within it. But, sometimes the Devil (if that term can still be used) is in the details.
Watching children grow up with Sesame Street on PBS left me with some good memories of songs and skits with various Muppets and such.
One lingering memory is of the “Three of these things belong together” song that helped kids select which one of four items “…doesn’t belong” with the others.
So, you might have three types of shoes and a cat. The cat is the one that doesn’t fit, in case you were stumped.
Following are some groups of four headlines. Three of the four are from the Huffington Post “Weird News” page. One is made up. See if you can guess
1.Man in Destin, Florida eats entire pizza on death bed.
2.Tortoise takes in baby bunny on cold night; begins beautiful friendship.
3.Witches plan to cast mass spell on Donald Trump.
4.Floridian tells police his dog shot his girlfriend.
1.Video of giraffe about to give birth removed for nudity and sexual content.
2.Accused drunk driver does cartwheels during sobriety test.
3.Mother trips over crack on sidewalk and breaks back.
4.Musician accused of getting on-stage enema during cancer benefit.
1.Woman without arms sets world record for lighting candles with her feet.
2.Iceland’s president wishes he could ban pineapple as a pizza topping.
3.“Relieved” family writes scathing obituary about “evil” father.
4.Hillary Clinton Pez dispensers included in Oscar after-party gift bag.
1.Kid asks police for help with homework; gets wrong answer.
2.Zen Buddhist children’s book says only, “It is what it is.”
3.Man vows to eat Jason Segal’s picture every day until actor eats his.
4.Two women try to sneak 13 pounds of horse genitals into U.S.
1.Florida man steals seven billion dollars because Jesus wants him to be wealthy.
2.Blowtorch barber is hottest thing in Gaza.
3.Organizers of protest come to blows over spelling on signs.
4.Man hammers 38 nails with his skull in pursuit of world record.
So, which of those headlines didn’t belong, because they weren’t real? In
order, the fake headlines were numbers 1, 3, 4, 2, and 3. I’ll bet your life feels pretty normal now…
I like language. I think it’s interesting how we can communicate what we want just by using the right words in just the right order. Sometimes I feel like I do a pretty good job of communicating, but many not right words sometimes have not been unused badly too much.
From time to time words people use bother me because they are imprecise – sometimes, intentionally.
Speaking accurately about sensitive topics can be seen as politically incorrect, so more palatable and less accurate words are used.
After September 11th, 2001, we started (or joined, already in progress) the “War on Terror.” Right from the start, that struck me as incorrect. Terror is a strategy, like embargoes, guerilla warfare, cyber-attacks, etc.
Whether it is a white supremacist group or a radical Islamic group, terror is the means by which they fight for their cause. Terror isn’t the enemy. The group using terror is the enemy.
Being against radical Islam isn’t the same as being against Islam, any more than being against white supremacists is the same as being against whites. Being at war against terror means nothing, and yet, we are.
Likewise, “illegal” and “undocumented” have very different levels of political correctness when speaking of uninvited guests in our country, but mean the same thing.
Recently the terms “fake news” and “alternate facts” have become popular. But what do they mean?
Fake news can be news that is false, and presented as true for nefarious reasons. However, sometimes that term is assigned to news stories that contain information that is debatable, or just plain wrong, but not intentionally false.
Alternate facts is a term that stems from a White House spokesperson’s comments. It is ludicrous, of course, because a fact is a fact. The capital of Wisconsin is Madison, for example. There is no alternative fact to refute that.
However, if you look at the term differently, it is anything but ludicrous. For example, if I told you that the car I’m selling is a 1999 blue Buick, those are facts. The alternate set of facts might be that it has no gas tank, and hasn’t run since 2001. A better term would have been “additional facts,” but either way, the facts someone chooses to share, or not share, can help them further their agenda.
I guess we all have to pay attention to the things we hear, and process them through the filter of who is saying them, and what they’re trying to achieve. Surely, there are plenty of people of all political stripes ready to mislead us if they can.
Try to imagine being caught up in a crowd of tens of thousands of cheering people who have gathered to celebrate something about which you care not one bit.
That, my friends, happened to me last week. I was in Boston for work, and had a lunch meeting scheduled just off the Boston Commons on Tuesday. The afternoon before, my client let me know that his building was on the parade route for the New England Patriots’ Super Bowl victory celebration. Yay.
Now, to be clear, I don’t hate the Patriots, though I know some people do. I just don’t much care one way or the other. To say I was in the minority would be an understatement.
For starters, with heavy traffic and many streets blocked off for the parade, I ended up parking a half-mile further away than expected. I wandered outside into the crowds and a heavy, wet, slushy snow.
Getting to my destination was a challenge. To cross the street near the parking ramp I needed to go down into a subway station and back up the other side. Unfortunately, as I got closer, the parade route took a 90 degree turn, and I had to cross again.
This time, I had to actually take the subway itself one stop, and then walk back six blocks, feeling like a spawning salmon moving upstream through the expectant crowd. Well, at least what I imagine a salmon feels like.
I said “excuse me” at least a thousand times, and even got poked in the head by a tine of a semi-broken umbrella. There were so many people that each block took 15 minutes.
But, only about two hours later, I shoved my way through the crowd to my client’s office. He isn’t a Patriots fan either, since he grew up in Pittsburgh, so we snuck out the back way.
We didn’t have to wait to be seated for lunch, and had a very nice meeting. Afterwards, I walked back to the parking garage with the street nearly empty, since the crowd had moved to city hall to see a presentation. All the posters and various paper litter had been turned into paper pulp by the snow – now turned to rain.
Once I got back in the car I turned up the heat, having been cold and wet for several hours. I almost fainted when I had to pay $42 for 3 hours of parking. But, all in all, things worked out okay.
We humans are lucky. We have great capacity for logic and rational thought, and we also have as much, or more capacity for deep feelings.
Sometimes our rational abilities supersede our emotions, and vice-versa. Optimally, we would all like to have the right mix of logic and compassion, or love and practicality, or worry and reason. But, we often don’t get the blend of wisdom and emotion quite right.
So, we make mistakes in love, in parenting, in finances, and in our jobs. We care too much or too little, or we over or under-think things. We give-in to children’s tears when we should stay the course in discipline, or we are inflexible when some compassion is in order.
The people we elect to run things in our various governmental levels are put in the position of doing what makes practical sense while respecting the caring emotions of us citizens. They need to fulfill their obligation to be prudent and diligent while honoring our values.
When Governor Thompson, and later President Clinton reformed welfare in Wisconsin and then nationwide, it seemed hard-hearted to many, and yet one result was many people learning skills that made them productive and self-sufficient. In that way the changes were pragmatic and compassionate.
The trick is that it’s often difficult to do what is practical and rational when our feelings are engaged disproportionately. And, likewise, sometimes the logical actions taken have unanticipated consequences that impact people.
It could be said that there is no such thing as too much kindness. Some people give away everything they have to help others, and hope for the best for themselves. They are the Mother Theresa’s of the world.
You could also say that there’s no such thing as too much rationality. The world runs by the laws of nature and physics, after all, and while economics isn’t truly a science, there are causes and effects that can be predicted.
What I’d like to see less of is the assertion that people trying to solve practical problems are evil and unfeeling, and that people who react with worry and sympathy aren’t serious, intelligent people.
If we start with the assumption that both positions come from a genuine concern to do what’s best, the inherent disagreements are more likely to be discussed in a constructive way, and less likely to result in punches in the nose.
(Written on the occasion of the unexpected death of a classmate)
I was starting third grade at a new school. My family had moved to a new old house, and the neighborhood kids all went to a different school than the one I was attending. So, I got to be the new kid at home and at school.
Before long, a few kids from school who lived fairly close to our new home became my best friends. One of those kids was Bobby McGuire.
Bobby lived only a few blocks away. He wasn’t an only child, but his step-sister was older and not around. He had a drawer full of sweaters and matching socks.
His home was not like mine in some ways that are a big deal to a little kid. For one thing, they had a fridge in the basement stocked with little bottles of Coke. And, when Sprite was introduced, they had that too. He could have it whenever he wanted. At our house pop was a treat, and was always a store brand.
His family had a color TV, which was also a big deal in the early 60s. And, he had a Columbia Record Club membership, giving him access to all the records he wanted. We’d sit in their family room and watch color TV, or drink Coke while listening to the new Beach Boys or Four Seasons record.
We did outside kid stuff too, like throwing and kicking the football around – once breaking a window. We played baseball, and ran around playing war or spy or whatever.
We spent a lot of time together, along with time spent with our other classmates.
I think it was in junior high school that his family moved to a nice house on the lake. Thanks to my bike, we continued to spend some time together, but not as much. He hosted several boy-girl parties at his house, featuring slow dancing to “Cherish” by The Association. We were learning to be a little less awkward.
Once high school came around we were still friends, but going from a class of 25 to a class of 900 changed things.
I’m writing this because Bobby – Bob, in recent years – passed away over the weekend. We had seen each other a few times over the past ten years. He had a wonderful wife who was a high school classmate, and judging by photographs on Facebook, two wonderful adult kids.
Bob was a truly nice and generous guy. He was congenitally positive and had an explosive sense of humor. Being happy seemed to come naturally to him.
I am very sad that he has died, and saddest for his family. I’m also glad for the memories of Bob, and for the reminder of what a positive influence he was on the younger me. I wish I had told him so.
(Three posts written the first three weeks of the new year, and combined as one)
A cast of actors and comedians died in 2016, and I’d like to say a word or two about some of them, not because they were more important than others, but because they were some of my life’s influences.
First, the Garrys: Garry Shandling was one of my favorite stand-up comedians, though he did much more than that. To paraphrase one of his routines, “I went out with this girl, and everything had to be all about her. The candle lit her hair on fire, and she was all ‘I’M on fire, put ME out!’” Garry Marshall, in addition to being Penny Marshall’s brother, created “Happy Days,” “Laverne and Shirley,” “Mork and Mindy,” “The Odd Couple” TV show, as well as directing “Pretty Woman,” “Runaway Bride,” and much more.
Zsa Zsa Gabor was an icon my whole life, darling. Carrie Fisher and Debbie Reynolds shocked us all twice, dying only a few hours apart. Debbie was an old-time star, and Carrie was a space-age star.
George Kennedy was in more than 200 films and TV shows, including “Cool Hand Luke,” and “Airport.” George Gaines was in “Airport,” but most known as Punky Brewster’s dad.
After years of rumors of his death, Abe Vigoda actually died last year. He was most famous for playing Fish on “Barney Miller,” but had many other roles, including in “The Godfather.” Ron Glass of Barney Miller also died in 2016. Grizzly Adams, or Dan Haggerty, went into permanent hibernation.
Alan Rickman appeared in “Die Hard,” “Harry Potter,” and many other roles. My favorite was his portrayal of a man who gave in to temptation in “Love Actually.”
Alexis Arquette was part of a show-biz family, along with brothers David and Richmond, and sisters Rosanna (yes, the one from the song), and Patricia. She had a great nickname: Eva Destruction. She was born a he named Robert Arquette.
Doris Roberts will always be Raymond’s mom, Marie. But she was lots of people’s moms over the years, along with other roles. I remember her in the series “Angie” (created by Garry Marshall) with Donna Pescow, and “Remington Steele.”
Alan Thicke was one of the last actors to die in 2016. He starred in “Growing Pains,” hosted beauty pageants, and did commercials. A TV mom, Florence Henderson (Mrs. Brady) seemed ageless, but wasn’t. Millie (Ann Morgan Guilbert), Rob and Laura Petrie’s nosy next-door neighbor died, as did James Noble, who played the sincere but goofy governor on “Benson” and “The Governor and J.J.”
Noreen Corcoran was John Forsythe’s niece in “Bachelor Father” in the late 50’s. Patty Duke played a niece and a daughter on “The Patty Duke Show” after winning an Oscar for her portrayal of Helen Keller in “The Miracle Worker.” Her TV dad, William Schallert, also died last year, as did Richard Harrison, who played a school buddy in the show.
Frank Sinatra Jr. played a son in real life, but was a good performer in his own right. Some of his last sightings were playing himself on “Family Guy.”
We saw Mash’s William Christopher (Father Mulcahey) on stage in Madison as a minister in “The Church Basement Ladies.” He turns up now and then in re-runs of “The Andy Griffith Show,” “Gomer Pyle, USMC,” and others.
Pat Harrington Jr. was Schneider on “One Day At a time,” among many other roles. Hugh O’Brien was Wyatt Earp on TV. Noel Neill played Clark Kent’s colleague Lois Lane on the TV version of “Superman.”
Stephen Hill was a cranky D.A. on “Law and order.” Larry Drake portrayed a developmentally disabled mail-room worker on “L.A. Law.” John Santos played Jim’s cop friend on “The Rockford Files.”
Bob Elliott was half of the legendary radio comedy team of Bob and Ray, but also the father of weird, but funny Chris Elliot.
Remember Miss Paulifficate from “Mr. Rogers?” She was Audrey Roth, a Pittsburgh philanthropist. Nancy Davis was a movie star, and later became First Lady Nancy Reagan.
Here are some music industry folks I forgot to include earlier. Lennie Baker was in “Sha Na Na,” Pete Fountain was a star on the clarinet, which isn’t easy to do. Toots (Jean-Baptiste Frédéric Isidor) Thielemans was the greatest jazz harmonica player ever. Oh, and he wrote and performed the theme for “Sesame Street.”
Rod Temperton wrote lots of songs for pop artists, including Michael Jackson’s “Thriller,” “Rock With Me,” and “Off The Wall.” Glenn Yarbrough was a folk star. One of his hits was “Baby, The Rain Must Fall.”
Less known, but important music figures who died included Rudy Van Gelder, a wonderful recording engineer, and Klaus Ogermann — a prolific producer and arranger who won a Grammy for his work with singer Diana Krall.
George Martin? Oh, he produced for “The Beatles,” among other things.
Robert Vaughn was Napoleon Solo in “Man From U.N.C.L.E,” which I never missed. Gene Wilder was a comic genius, and star of one of my favorite movies, “Young Frankenstein.” Mr. Ed’s friend Wilbur, known as Alan Young, also passed away.
In 2016 we lost UN Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali. Fun name to say. Rob Ford was Toronto mayor who struggled with drugs and being ridiculous.
Janet Reno and Wisconsin’s own Melvin Laird both served presidents who faced impeachment. She was attorney general and he secretary of defense.
Antonin Scalia was a constitutionalist on the Supreme Court. Unfortunately, most justices aren’t. John Glenn was an astronaut and a senator, and during one trip to space he was both.
Fidel Castro was a brutal dictator and killer who became a folk hero to people who don’t read history.
Four true giants of sport died last year. Mohammad Ali was the greatest, Arnold Palmer had his own army, Gordie Howe was a hockey icon, and Pat Summitt was the greatest women’s basketball coach.
Nate Thurmond was a great basketball player who once got 42 rebounds in a game. Joe Garagiola was a baseball catcher, but best known as a sports and Today Show announcer.
Robert A. Hoover was an incredible pilot. I saw him do amazing acrobatics in the 1970s. He had been a combat pilot, prisoner of war, test pilot, and aviation teacher.
Some musicians not noted earlier: Julius La Rosa was fired on-the-air by host Arthur Godfrey for being too popular. Bobby Vee was a 50s pop heartthrob. Robert Stigwood was a music producer and director. “Saturday Night Fever” was his.
Futurist Alvin Toffler wrote a best seller called “Future Shock,” about the difficulty in dealing with a lot of change in a short amount of time. That was before the internet.
W. P. Kinsella wrote “Field of Dreams” which made a lot of men cry a little. So did Elie Wiesel, who survived and wrote about the holocaust. He won a Nobel Prize.
Peter Shaffer wrote plays. Some made into movies – most notably the story of Mozart called “Amadeus.” “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolfe” belonged to Edward Albee, who also died in 2016.
Nelle Harper Lee wrote “To Kill A Mockingbird,” and helped friend Truman Capote in his research for “In Cold Blood.
Morley Safer joined “60 Minutes” in 1970, and only retired the week before he died. Gwen Ifill wasn’t with PBS News for that long, but was much valued.
John McLaughlin and Phillis Schlafly were conservative writers, and Tom Hayden was a liberal congressperson and once husband of Jane Fonda.
As always, these New Year columns only scratch the surface on the notable people who died last year. And, if anyone close to you died in 2016, none of these folks I’ve noted matter much.
(A look back at what I wrote before New Years, 2017)
When I was a little kid, soft drinks, (pop) in machines cost ten cents, then 15 cents, and then a quarter. The bottles were 10 ounces or so, and made of glass. Back then, my dad would tell me that when he was young pop was a nickel. Since I was a kid, I mentally rolled my eyes at his old-ness. Now,
I am generally quite resolute in my policy of not making New Year’s resolutions. This year, though, I may change my strategy and take some steps towards self-improvement.
The New Year’s resolution first started in the year 1943 in Cedar Falls, Iowa. Actually, I just made that up. In reality, the origins were religious. We know that Babylonians made promises to their gods at the start of each year, as did the Romans.
Even though January first is an arbitrary “beginning,” it is nice to have a clean slate on which to inscribe our year to come. Most resolutions aren’t kept, but that doesn’t mean they are a bad idea. It means we’re not very good at changing our habits.
Here are a few areas of my life where some resolutions might be in order. Don’t hold me to these, though. I haven’t committed yet.
1.Earlier to bed and earlier to rise.
2.Remove some joy from my life by eating less.
3.Remove even more joy by drinking less pop.
4.Treat my phone like a tool and not a companion.
5.Spend more time with nice people.
6.New rule: Make more than two hurtful or stupid Facebook posts, and you are unfollowed.
7.Write notes to people on paper and mail them in envelopes with stamps. At least I think that’s how it’s done.
8.Set some goals and make some objectives. Plan my days. I know: it does sound crazy.
9.Regain my lost youth through exercise.
10.Always get my columns in on time.
So, those are some candidates. Maybe some of them ring true with you as well. There are others, like volunteering more and spending more time in nature, but those aren’t really resolutions as much as they are things to be aware of as the opportunities arise.
I’m grateful that I’m not someone who has truly difficult changes to make, like quitting drugs, drinking, or smoking. If it’s so hard for me to drink less Pepsi, I’d have no chance at quitting cocaine.
On the other hand, people are capable of amazing changes when they put their hearts and minds into it. Maybe listing the things we want to change on December 31st is mostly important for bringing our thoughts and feelings into clearer focus. Even if we aren’t perfect humans one year later, maybe we’ll be better than we were.
So, for now, good luck to you in whatever you undertake in the New Year.
When I was a little kid, soft drinks, (pop) in machines cost ten cents, then 15 cents, and then a quarter. The bottles were 10 ounces or so, and made of glass. Back then, my dad would tell me that when he was young pop was a nickel. Since I was a kid, I mentally rolled my eyes at his old-ness. Now, of course, I am frequently reflecting on such things. I guess it comes with the old-ness territory.
I enjoy watching the TV channels that have the old situation comedies and such. They bring back memories. Some I like more than others. “The Brady Bunch” is NOT one of my favorites. That being said, I recently saw part of an episode where Mrs. Brady had a fender-bender, and the other person involved demanded that the Brady’s pay his repair bill.
First, you need to know that the antagonist was played by the guy who played Grandpa in “The Munsters.” But, more to the point, he was trying to take advantage of the Bradys by gouging them for… wait for it… $265.
Can you imagine a body shop repair bill for $265? Today it probably costs that much for a new gas cap.
It reminded me of the first “Austin Powers” movie, where the bad guy, Dr. Evil, who had been frozen since 1969, attempts to hold the world ransom for “One million dollars!” That was a lot of money in 1969. Not so much these days.
Some things’ prices really haven’t changed much. When I was in college, it seems to me that a pair of jeans was around $18. Thanks to the globalization of clothing manufacturing, you can sometimes find jeans for close to that price. They’re made in Mexico, or someplace. Some jeans are still made in the USA, but they are hard to find, and cost a bit more. The All American Clothing Company (www.allamericanclothing.com) in Ohio sells jeans for three times $18. I haven’t tried them yet, but I’m going to. After all, $54 is pretty much what foreign-made Levi’s jeans cost.
When we tell our kids that our first new car cost $3,000, and our first house $29,000, I know the mental eye-rolls are happening. That’s okay. Perspective is a good thing.
I only hope they know I’m passing-on a tradition, and that must be worth at least a nickel.
As an observer of people and language, and an expert in neither, I enjoy watching the changes that take place in how people identify things.Over the years we’ve become much more comfortable with acronyms, and the proliferation of texting has made the increase in acronyms even greater.
Acronyms aren’t new, of course.The Federal Bureau of Investigation has always been the FBI.The importance of the NAACP’s acronym is so great that they keep the words “Colored People” in their name in order not to mess with those initials.
There has certainly been an “E” (evolution) of “A” (acronyms) over time, and sometimes it is hard to keep up with them.
Kids who are out of control used to be called “wild.”Over the years that has changed to ADD or ADHD.We could add a letter to that if a person was considered to be “Type A.”ADHDA is unpronounceable, but maybe we can buy a vowel so it could be.
The area of sexuality has been in the news a lot over the past, oh, forever, but especially the past year or so.At one time, people were thought of to be “normal” or homosexual.Then, as society became more accepting, the term “Gay” became popular, with other people being “straight.”
When I was in college, the acronym “LGB” emerged, covering people who were lesbian, gay, or bisexual.Sometime between then and now the transvestite community joined in, placing a “T” at the end.
Much more recently – a day I must not have been paying attention – the letter “Q” was added.I understand that it means “Questioning.” If it were up to me, I’d have picked “U” for undecided, but it clearly wasn’t up to me.
In some respects I think Facebook got it right when they provided the “It’s complicated” option under the category of “relationships.”The world of gender surely has become complicated.
So, with LGBTQ as the acronym for that “community,” I wonder if there are more letters to come.There could be an “A” for androgynous, a “D” for disinterested, or an “R” for retired.
Honestly, I have no concern over what people do as individuals or what they decide to call it.At this stage in my life the acronyms that most concern me are things like CD’s, SSA, IRA, FDIC, NASDAQ, and PSA (prostate specific antigen).
I’ll stay tuned for updates in the world of acronyms, though, so I can pretend to be knowledgeable and on top of things.
Those of us who have the good fortune to live in rural areas sometimes take our environs for granted.It’s very easy to get caught up in the day-to-day demands on our minds and our senses, leaving no room for the natural world’s influences.
We’re at a stage in our lives where we have more time to stop and smell the roses, and complain because the new varieties don’t have very much scent compared to the old ones.Without kids to monitor it’s easier to make time for nature – even in small ways.
Many people make their yards bird habitats, with many feeders and plantings to attract birds.We have an oriole feeder and a hummingbird feeder, and that’s about it.However, humming birds and orioles are both beautiful and fun to watch, and the orioles, along with their cousins the robins and cardinals, fill the air with sound.
We put up some bluebird houses many years ago, and sometimes the sparrows take them, but this year we seem to have a nice number of bluebirds which, seen in the right light, are beautiful.
We’ve taken to driving an eight mile route a few nights a week.It takes us down some less-traveled roads.We go at sunset, and count deer.Depending on the time of year, we may see five or six, or, on one extraordinary evening, 85.But, we’ve also seen owls, an eagle’s nest, and recently, a family of foxes and a coyote stalking three deer.
And, there are always cranes and geese and turkeys.The male turkeys seem to think very highly of themselves as they do their grand displays for the females, who seem to ignore the show.
These rides have taught me a few things.First, there is a difference between looking and REALLY looking.It’s surprising what you can see if you give it your full attention.I think we’ve both learned some things about deer behavior.They may not always be very good at avoiding cars (or vice-versa), but given what they contend with (weather, insects, predators, scarcity of food) they are amazing survivors.
We visited my mother-in-law last weekend.She has many more bird feeders than we do, and a nice wooded lot that my late father-in-law transformed from a farm field many years ago.She had a female turkey eating up seeds under a feeder.But, even more amazing was the peacock that showed up.Amazing, because we don’t have wild peacocks in Wisconsin.
So, if you see somebody out looking for a lost peacock in the Kaukauna area, let me know.
There’s an old phrase: “Life imitates art.”It can be interpreted various ways, but it is odd how sometimes things happen that seem unreal and fictional – or even fanciful.
I remember a Memorial Day weekend when we lived in Duluth.We were planting our little garden when I noticed it was snowing.I realized I was planting snow peas at the time.Not an earthshaking coincidence, but still…
More recently, and far less happily, it was reported that an angry camel bit off a man’s head.So for all those times when somebody who was being criticized said, “Don’t bite my head off,” we now know if can happen.
Back when we used to cut and bale our own hay, the expression “make hay while the sun shines” took on a literal meaning as storm clouds rolled in when we had another load to finish.Making hay has other meetings, as does hitting the hay, or a roll in the hay.None are enhanced by rain, though.
The expression “nothing is sure except for death and taxes” took on new meaning at the VFW fish fry in Stoughton last weekend when we noticed that the placemat had a mortuary and a tax preparation service listed.For some reason that reminds me of the Archie’s Monuments location that used to be on Highway 26 north of Watertown which also featured miniature golf.A very interesting combination business.Watch out for the last hole!
Another tragic example of late: the man who attempted suicide by stripping naked and breaking in to the lions’ area at a zoo.Throwing someone to the lions is supposed to be a metaphor.It’s hard to imagine even the most jaded movie script including suicide by lion.
Life has imitated science fiction for many years, from rocket travel to artificial intelligence.In fact George Orwell’s “1984” and Ray Bradbury’s “Fahrenheit 451” were, I guess, social-science fiction books that speak to thought control (Facebook?) and constant monitoring by the government (cameras everywhere in cities, cell phones being monitored…)
Life imitates art in good ways too, of course.It doesn’t often make the news, however.
I don’t want to make too big a deal out of all this.Rumor has it that there is a mole hill somewhere that might be made into a mountain, if we’re not careful.
The new world of social media gives those of us who want it the opportunity to keep in touch, or get back in touch with people from earlier stages in our lives.Locating people is fairly simple these days, compared to 30 years ago, when private investigators would be needed.
Some people use these new tools, like Facebook, to get together with old flames, which turns out not to be such a good idea much of the time, as Facebook was mentioned in 42% divorce proceedings a few years ago.
For me, it’s just interesting to see what old friends are up to.I mostly find that I exchange one email with childhood or college buddies, and then just follow them on Facebook.
Monday was an interesting day in that regard.Early in the day I learned that a college friend is about to move to a place in the country.I think she lives in Washington State with her husband.Her mother just died this year – she was in her mid-90’s.
Later in the day I learned that another college friend who had just one month ago moved to a new job in Washington, DC had resigned, and was returning to his previous job in Florida.Tough month.
Then that night, I saw a shocking post from a woman I knew in college.She had married a great guy who was in a lot of classes with me.His name was Ted.They were a really nice couple.She wrote to report that he died of a massive heart attack at age 62.My age.I remember going to a Marx Brothers’ double feature with the two of them.I was a third wheel, but didn’t feel like one.
I haven’t seen Ted since 1976, so I can’t claim to have been his friend.I still feel sorrow for his death, and for his wife’s loss.A loss I wouldn’t have known about without Facebook.
Three college classmates: one moving to the country, one moving back to Florida, one moving to the afterlife.There is probably a conclusion to be drawn, or a moral to the story, but I’m not sure what it is.Maybe this: be sure to spend time and energy with your real-world friends in case they move along sometime soon.
The Ten Commandments are quite famous, after all these years.That doesn’t mean they are universally obeyed, by any stretch of the imagination, but at least most people have a pretty good idea of what they are, or at least can summarize them.
Other religions, too, have their lists of rules to follow, but we won’t go into those right now.
What I will do is put forth some thoughts about ten additional commandments for your consideration.Of course I’m not putting myself on the same status as God, and in fact, commandments is the wrong word to use.Suggestions might not be strong enough.How about guidelines?
You probably have some of your own to submit.But, for the sake of discussion, here are my “other ten:”
11.While walking, thou shalt not look to the right while turning to the left.
12.If talking on a phone or sending a text, thou shalt not engage in any retail transaction, lest the earth shall swallow you up for eternity.
13.Woe be unto he who says “free prize.”All prizes are free, lest they not be prizes.
14.Thou shalt not travel in passenger aircraft while laden with intestinal gasses seeking their freedom.
15.Use some common sense and common courtesy before it becomes extinct.
16. Ye, I say unto you, weareth thine capris pants, for they look fine.They just aren’t my favorites.
17.It is written: the lid to the juice container must be put on properly, or woe be unto he who shaketh it, as it shall leak.
18.If your name is Barbara, and you say you are calling from Google to update my account, I deny thee, and condemn thee to my rejected call list.
19.If there is a burning bush, it is because you burnethed thine brush on a windy day.Wait for calm, and have shovels and buckets of water handy.
20.Lo, it is commanded, offer not to search for ticks unless you really think there might be ticks, and not just to start some hanky-panky.
So, those are my second ten guidelines by which to live.Consider them a rough draft.Very rough.They certainly won’t help you find eternal life, but might come in handy on a day-to-day basis.
It probably wouldn’thurtto review the original commandments too, while you’re thinking of it.There’s one about coveting your neighbor’s lawn tractor, I think.
As I may have mentioned, I’m not much of a game player, and especially cards. I know some of the terms, and that’s about it.Trump, for example, denotes the suit or number that supersedes other cards in a game like bridge or pinochle, if I have that right.
It’s funny to have a presidential candidate with the name Trump who seems to be superseding the others.But it depends on the game.If we’re playing Uno, or Yahtzee, somebody else might be winning.Or surely “go fish” would go to a more relaxed contestant.Someone in favor of amnesty could win a poker game with a full house, or a socially conservative plumber might win with a straight flush.
Pro-business candidates might like running a campaign to the rules of monopoly, but one particular candidate may end up going directly to jail without collecting $200.And one anti-business candidate might learn some things about how business works by playing monopoly, but will probably quit if he can’t bring a printing press to make more money, or get the other players to give their money to him for the greater good.
Maybe the most entertaining debate format would be a pajama party with a rousing game of truth or dare.Or maybe, truth, dare, or with draw from the race.
I heard somebody talking on the radio the other day who made an interesting point, and some other incidents have happened since then that have supported his point.He made the observation that this election isn’t about Republicans and Democrats, or even liberals and conservatives.To paraphrase, it’s about common sense.
Now, that doesn’t mean that Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders actually HAVE common sense, but since the current president and congress don’t seem to, perhaps doing the opposite of what they’ve done will make sense.
I understand the sentiment, but not the logic, any more than I understood the logic of voting for someone because of their color, or voting for someone because of her gender, or voting against someone because he was a Mormon.There are plenty of points of evaluation for each candidate, but none of the above make any rational sense to me.
I think a president should be tough, also dignified.A president should be both forward thinking and conversant in traditions and international relationships.Respect for other nations and for friends and foes in our own country is essential.
Being candid is a good thing, but not when it takes future negotiating options off the table.Repeatedly and purposefully lying for political expediency is short-sighted and a character flaw.
We had some rainy days this week.I’m sure that all the students still in school at this time of year found it a lot easier to be there with the outdoor alternative being so moist.As someone who spent a lot of my school years looking out the window, I can attest to the torture of being in school on beautiful May days.
School will be out soon, and with it will come a summer of freedom for a lot of kids.For some there will be summer school or various types of camps or summer programs to enrich minds, strengthen bodies, and in some cases, take care of child care normally provided during the school year.
When I was a lad, things were somewhat different.
Summer school was not optional for me, as my time spent looking out the window during the school year seems to have deterred my learning ability.Summer school allowed me to get caught up.I didn’t mind it, though.It was only in the morning, and didn’t start as early as regular school.And, for some reason, instead of milk in the morning we got orange drink produced at the dairy that sent milk during the school year.It was the best orange drink ever.
Other than the few weeks of summer school, and family vacations, my time was my own.I filled it with baseball, bike riding, and television, mostly.As I got older I expanded into the area of trying to be where girls were, in the event that one would take an interest in me.Inter-gender socializing was not my strong suit.
I had some jobs to do around the house, but I didn’t get “a job” until the summer of my senior year.I probably missed out on having a stronger work ethic because of that, but I also had more time to just be a kid.Since we end up working for most of our lives, that time off was a good thing.
I think about summers from those days when the weather turns warmer.Certain smells and sights trigger strong memories of that time.Mowed grass, fresh tar, and the rich green of the summer leaves.
Things have changed.For safety sake, children have less freedom to get on their bikes and go.Baseball is mostly a supervised activity.Oh, and then there are video games.Enough said.
I hope the students in school now make it safely to the end of the term, and have the chance to enjoy some freedom this summer.It will help get them through a lot of rainy days as the years go by.
I inadvertently stumbled on the television show known as “The View” the other day. I am clearly not the target audience of “The View,” so I generally don’t watch it.
During the three minutes I watched, host Whoopi Goldberg quoted candidate Donald Trump as saying that all Mexicans are murderers and rapists. Trump says a lot of intemperate things, of course, and would benefit greatly from a lengthy bout of laryngitis, but I was remembering the speech in question, and I didn’t remember it that way, so I looked it up.
It turns out that what “The Donald” said was this: “When Mexico sends its people, they’re not sending their best. They’re not sending you. They’re not sending you. They’re sending people that have lots of problems, and they’re bringing those problems to us. They’re bringing drugs. They’re bringing crime. They’re rapists. And some, I assume, are good people.”
So, what he said isn’t what Whoopi said he said. It was not very kind, nor was it diplomatic. But he didn’t say anything about “all Mexicans.”
Just for the sake of clarity, let’s break down what he said. First, he asserts that Mexico is sending people. While it is true that the Mexican government has supported the emigration of people from there to here, partly because of the many millions of dollars that those emigrants send back to their relatives in Mexico, it isn’t officially “sending” anyone.
Are the Mexicans who come here Mexico’s best people? Good question. By definition they can be considered law breakers, but our country’s immigration policies have not been strong, and many Mexicans have taken advantage to find a better life.
The people who come over the border can also be said to be motivated, risk-takers, driven, and entrepreneurial. Those are good things. But, some of them are also motivated by the criminal gains they can make, or by gaming the system.
And, unlike legal immigrants, people coming over our southern border aren’t vetted for criminal records. So, yes, some are bringing drugs and crime. And, if you read the paper you’ll know that some are rapists and murderers.
Trump’s biggest error was in saying that he assumes “some” are good people. He might better have said that while “most” are good people, it is probably not the wealthy or well- educated Mexicans who are escaping Mexico, and some are dangerous criminals.
So, Trump said what he said, for better or worse. Whoopi and others mis-remember his quote as being much more extreme than it was in reality. I don’t think that helps anything.
You may be saying, “But Peter; isn’t the regular news odd these days? Look at the candidates running for president, for example.”
This week I’m not going to look at the headlines from UPI.Com/odd news, and by doing so make the “normal” news of the day seem less odd.
1.“Dolphin jumps into a boat full of tourists in Mexico.” That seems only fair considering all the tourists who jump into the water to swim with the dolphins.
2.“Firemen chase fridge-raiding bear from second story apartment.” Only YOU can prevent leftovers!
3.“British inventor builds homemade hover bike.” What could possibly go wrong with a bicycle in the sky?
4.“Florida man tries to feed raccoon; learns valuable lesson.” This one is a video, but I couldn’t make myself watch it.
5.“Loose alpaca captured in Massachusetts.” I didn’t know alpacas could be promiscuous.
6.“External wall peels from side of Chinese high rise.” It is now known as banana tower.
7.“Brooklyn pizzeria to sell pizza box made entirely of pizza.” Just because we can doesn’t mean we should.
8.“Uninvited alligator removed from Louisiana living room.” As opposed to the many invited alligators…
9.“Paramount Pictures sued over copyright of Klingon Language.” Next: Pig Latin.
10.“Menacing monkey steals cell phone from tourist’s hand.” Now the man with the yellow hat is using pay phones.
11.“Gorilla birth at Prague zoo stuns zoo keepers. They didn’t know she was pregnant.” Sounds like a new show on MTV.
12.“Australian brewery creates beer using yeast from belly button lint.” It can be served with bread and toe-jam.
13.“Olympian Nick Symmonds auctioning ad space on his shoulder.” Could be worse. He could be a Chippendale dancer. And the ad could be not on his shoulder.
14.“Woman returns library book 67 years late.” She apparently reads only one word per day so she can really savor it.
15.“Cambridge area man decides it is time for lunch.” That one isn’t from UPI.com, but I can attest to it being true!
A couple of things happened within 24 hours of each other, and it occurred to me that they were related, in a way.
The first involved a weak moment on my part. I shared a post on Facebook that was very nice and not at all political. One of my grade school classmates “liked” the post, and added a snide comment about a presidential candidate.
To quote comedian Mike Birbiglia, what I should have said was “nothing.” But, instead I replied with what I thought was a fair response regarding another politician. Her reply indicated that she believed I was such an unbelievable idiot that she couldn’t believe her eyes. She didn’t actually say that, but she may as well have.
The thing is, my original reply to her snide remark was easily defendable, based on real information and real facts. But, her belief to the contrary was too strong to have made any of that relevant, so I just shut up at that point.
The next morning I saw an opinion piece that discussed the topic of biological facts that conflict with strongly held beliefs. It dealt in part with the North Carolina hub-bub over bathroom choices, but was broader than that.
He referenced the woman who was in the news a while back because she “identified” as black, though she wasn’t. He also pondered about a hypothetical adult man who might “identify” as 13 years-old, and how we as a society would view that person dating another 13 year-old.
In both cases the person in question might very sincerely believe that they are, in one case black, and in the other case, 13. Beliefs are very powerful, and when they are so strong, the facts seem irrelevant.
To further complicate things, people with unsavory motivations can claim to “identify” as black or 13 or whatever, and there is no way to know what is their minds, let alone their hearts.
The author – a psychiatrist — offered the opinion that the laws should honor the facts, and not the beliefs, not to disrespect people with those beliefs, but to maintain an orderly society. So, he’d say that the white woman identifying as black wouldn’t qualify for affirmative action, and the adult couldn’t date the 13 year old.
I’m sure I have some deeply held beliefs that don’t hold up well to facts and logic. Like my classmate. And, to be fair, although religion is based on facts as they have been passed down over the ages, it’s mostly about faith and deeply held beliefs.
I guess I don’t want to – and I don’t want government to – decide what beliefs are valid and which ones aren’t. Maybe, then, the laws should avoid that side of things all together, and focus on what is known.
The new world of social media gives those of us who want it the opportunity to keep in touch, or get back in touch with people from earlier stages in our lives. Locating people is fairly simple these days, compared to 30 years ago, when private investigators would be needed.
Some people use these new tools, like Facebook, to get together with old flames, which turns out not to be such a good idea much of the time, as Facebook was mentioned in 42% divorce proceedings a few years ago.
For me, it’s just interesting to see what old friends are up to. I mostly find that I exchange one email with childhood or college buddies, and then just follow them on Facebook.
Monday was an interesting day in that regard. Early in the day I learned that a college friend is about to move to a place in the country. I think she lives in Washington State with her husband. Her mother just died this year – she was in her mid-90’s.
Later in the day I learned that another college friend who had just one month ago moved to a new job in Washington, DC had resigned, and was returning to his previous job in Florida. Tough month.
Then that night, I saw a shocking post from a woman I knew in college. She had married a great guy who was in a lot of classes with me. His name was Ted. They were a really nice couple. She wrote to report that he died of a massive heart attack at age 62. My age. I remember going to a Marx Brothers’ double feature with the two of them. I was a third wheel, but didn’t feel like one.
I haven’t seen Ted since 1976, so I can’t claim to have been his friend. I still feel sorrow for his death, and for his wife’s loss. A loss I wouldn’t have known about without Facebook.
Three college classmates: one moving to the country, one moving back to Florida, one moving to the afterlife. There is probably a conclusion to be drawn, or a moral to the story, but I’m not sure what it is. Maybe this: be sure to spend time and energy with your real-world friends in case they move along sometime soon.
The Ten Commandments are quite famous, after all these years. That doesn’t mean they are universally obeyed, by any stretch of the imagination, but at least most people have a pretty good idea of what they are, or at least can summarize them.
Other religions, too, have their lists of rules to follow, but we won’t go into those right now.
What I will do is put forth some thoughts about ten additional commandments for your consideration. Of course I’m not putting myself on the same status as God, and in fact, commandments is the wrong word to use. Suggestions might not be strong enough. How about guidelines?
You probably have some of your own to submit. But, for the sake of discussion, here are my “other ten:”
While walking, thou shalt not look to the right while turning to the left.
If talking on a phone or sending a text, thou shalt not engage in any retail transaction, lest the earth shall swallow you up for eternity.
Woe be unto he who says “free prize.” All prizes are free, lest they not be prizes.
Thou shalt not travel in passenger aircraft while laden with intestinal gasses seeking their freedom.
Use some common sense and common courtesy before it becomes extinct.
Ye, I say unto you, weareth thine capris pants, for they look fine. They just aren’t my favorites.
It is written: the lid to the juice container must be put on properly, or woe be unto he who shaketh it, as it shall leak.
If your name is Barbara, and you say you are calling from Google to update my account, I deny thee, and condemn thee to my rejected call list.
If there is a burning bush, it is because you burnethed thine brush on a windy day. Wait for calm, and have shovels and buckets of water handy.
Lo, it is commanded, offer not to search for ticks unless you really think there might be ticks, and not just to start some hanky-panky.
So, those are my second ten guidelines by which to live. Consider them a rough draft. Very rough. They certainly won’t help you find eternal life, but might come in handy on a day-to-day basis.It probably wouldn’t hurt to review the original commandments too, while you’re thinking of it. There’s one about coveting your neighbor’s lawn tractor, I think.
I’ve been planting gardens of one sort or another in about the same place for the past 30 years. Part of it had been a garden when we moved in, and part of it was an old building which we tore down after living at our place for a year.
Over those years, we’ve taken stones and glass and metal out of the soil every year. Some of it was from the building we tore down, some from buildings long ago forgotten, and some from various junk and farm equipment over the 150 or so years that people have lived at our place.
Last year, for the first time, I decided to keep all of the metal I harvested from the soil. The photo you see here includes a majority of what I found. Keep in mind that this is after 30 years of taking other pieces of metal out. It also doesn’t include an equal amount of glass pieces, plastic, rubber, etc.
Some of the metal is rusted beyond recognition. A lot of the metal consists of nails – many of them old square nails. One large gear and an angle iron spoke of machinery and building.
It’s easy to see the things through the lens of the here and now. It’s good, sometimes, to remember that other people once lived where we once lived. They maybe waited impatiently for warmer weather the way we do each spring. Maybe they pulled arrowheads out of the ground instead of metal pieces.
I’m sure they worked harder to get by than we do. Their garden was not a hobby, I’m sure, but a necessity. If there were children, perhaps it was their job to cultivate and weed the garden. Maybe they were the ones listening to the birds and daydreaming as they worked: the way I do now.
It’s good to be outdoors again, as spring eases forward. It’s good, too, to know that as we work in the soil that we’re following in the footsteps of so many others from so many years ago.
I guess everybody has a list of things to do at work. Those lists aren’t very interesting to anyone other than that person, or the person that person works for, or the people he or she tries to talk into doing the things on the list.
The same is probably true for our list of things to do at home. My list might be interesting only because of its size and scope. Well, to be honest, that’s not technically true. The size of my to-do list is unknown, because I’m terrified to write it all down. I’m afraid if I saw it all I’d run away from home.
Here are some of the things I should do: prepare the soil and plant grass on both sides of our garage. Fifteen hours. Remove all the dead stuff from the flower garden. Two hours. Prune the flowering crab tree. One hour. Rake the thatch out of the grass. Three hours. Aerate the lawn. Two hours. Spot plant grass seed. Two hours. Remove dead shrubs. Three hours. Organize garage. Ten hours.
So, that’s the tip of the iceberg, and I’m up to almost a 40 hour week. No time for the day job, naps, television, petting the cats, Culvers, or crossword puzzles.
The thing is, I love doing all the things on the list, and thinking of more new things to add to the list. The sad thing is that it seems that winter will come back (not the snow that will fly between now and Memorial Day) before most of it is accomplished.
The happy thing is that this time of year we have some warm days, but nothing is really growing enough to need attention. No grass to cut, no weeds to pull. That being said, I wasn’t happy to see mosquitoes out last Saturday, though it felt good to get my first kill under my belt.
Part of my problem in crossing things off my list is that I’m easily distracted by other things on the list. Considering the entire list is virtual, existing only in my mind, it’s easy to veer from item to item to item. After all, they all need to get done. So, I tend to work on what seems fun at the time. That may be a youngest child phenomenon.
Honestly, I should be more organized about my list. Maybe I will write it down and prioritize it. I’ll probably still ignore it, but now and then I can cross off the things that happened to get done in spite of the list.
To paraphrase The Bard, “To do, or not to do: that is the question.”
Every leap year in recent memory it seems that some Americans – especially famous Americans – promise to leave the country if their opposing presidential candidate is elected. President George W. Bush brought forth those proclamations, as did President Obama.
There is renewed enthusiasm for those promises now that Donald Trump is doing well in the Republican nomination race. In fact, on-line inquiries on how to emigrate to Canada spike after each Republican debate – or so it has been reported.
Canada would be a convenient choice, since people could escape there by car. Comedian Kathleen Madigan refers lovingly to Canada as America’s attic. To paraphrase her: you forget it’s up there, but then you go, and you see there’s a lot of cool stuff up there.
They do have a new leader, who is young and Bernie Sander-ish, so many anti-Trumpsters would probably be very happy.
Interestingly, CNBC reported a while back that the number of Americans giving up their citizenships has increased dramatically over recent years.
According to the U.S. Treasury Department, in the period 1998 through 2008, roughly 500 people per year gave up their citizenship each year. In 2008, only 231 people turned in their papers, but in 2015 alone, over 3,400 people gave up their citizenships.
Many of those people may already have been living abroad, and chosen to cut their patriotic ties for all sorts of reasons, including more tax enforcement, but some may have become disenchanted with the direction of our country.
I don’t know if I’d leave the country if the “wrong” person were elected. I’ve lived through some presidents I didn’t much like. I’d like to think that my happiness doesn’t rely so much on the government as it does on myself and my family. But, I guess everybody has their breaking point.
It’s also true that it’s probably better for people to leave than to stay and complain constantly. Complaining doesn’t really help anything.
It’s also true that if it became more favorable for people to live in the United States – tax-wise – fewer people would leave, and in fact, a lot of people with a lot of money might decide to come back and pay the more reasonable taxes. We know that some people move from high tax states to low tax states, not because they’re greedy, but because they like to keep more of what they’ve earned.
At this point nobody knows who will be the next president. The least that can be said about this year’s contest is that it is very, very interesting, and it’s hard to escape the feeling that almost anything could happen. I guess you can keep a bag packed and your car gassed up, or charged, just in case.
Watching the process we go through every four years of electing our national leadership can be pretty painful. According to historians it always has been. Modern media probably makes it worse, because we can see it all in high definition, and let’s be honest, some people should not be seen in high definition. I’m sure I’m one of them.
The punches and counter punches (terms actually used by one of the candidates in particular) are entertaining, to a point, but mostly discouraging. I find myself picturing the various contenders sitting across the table from an adversary from a foreign country and wondering what in the world that person would think. To be honest, I’m not sure what they think now with our current president, or the one we had before, for that matter.
In my career I’ve served on a number of committees charged with selecting a job applicant for a position opening. It occurred to me this morning that the presidency is, at its core, a job, and that the president really works for us. And, as such, we are actually a gigantic human resources department that is ready to make the hire.
The primaries, then, are like two search and screen committees that are charged with bringing forth the two best candidates.
So, the way it works in the real world is that candidates for a job submit a resume and a cover letter. Let’s say each of the candidates had done that. It would show their experience, education, accomplishments. The cover letter could indicate why they want the job and what they’d like to accomplish if they are chosen.
As the committee, we could look through each resume, and check them for accuracy, and put them in order of preference. Then we could interview each one. It would be like a debate, without any shouting. Just questions from the committee, and answers from the candidate.
Then we’d choose. By “we,” I mean the Democrat committee (all Democrats) and the Republican committee (all Republicans). A resume, an interview, a vote, and done.
This plan couldn’t work, of course, for a number of reasons, mostly the First Amendment, but it’s true that if you block out all the shouting, the information above is pretty much all available if you look for it.
Be of good cheer. Only eight months to go! (As long as we don’t go into overtime again.)
What if I were to write about a word, but never actually use the word? Why would I do that? Well, for starters, it is a word that never used to be said in polite company, isn’t allowed on broadcast media, and wouldn’t be allowed in this newspaper. It isn’t racial or otherwise ethnic, just coarse, crude, and inappropriate.
It is a word that is, I think, purely slang in nature. It can be used as a verb, an adjective, an adverb, an exclamation, and any number of utterances, none of which really make any sense nor add anything useful to a conversation.
The word has shock value, which is why many comedians, who are not confident in being funny in other ways, use the word often, because audiences who are uncomfortable with what they are hearing tend to laugh, like when somebody burps (or makes other body noises) in church.
Shows on the pay TV channels enjoy using this word as one of the reasons to charge people to subscribe to their services, in addition to showing various body parts from time to time. The Fox TV program “Mad TV” did a parody of “The Sopranos” as if it had been edited for broadcast TV. Of course, with that word removed the scenes hopped around like a flip book, and each show was ten minutes long.
Plenty of otherwise decent people feel perfectly fine about using the word on Facebook and other internet postings. In fact, there’s a very good science education site that uses that word in its name, for reasons that completely escape me. More than once I’ve thought of sharing something very interesting from that site, but haven’t, since I’m uncomfortable passing something along with that word on it.
Am I a prude? Maybe a little, gosh darn it. Mostly, I think that incivility has its roots in language, even if it is used innocently. But we have enough linguistic tools at our disposal without using the nuclear option, don’t we? After all, if I call someone an idiot, do I really need to say what kind of idiot that person is?
Anyway, it’s food for thought. And, if you still don’t know what word I’m referring to, good for you!
I thought it might be fun to hear some quotes from speakers who really capture the imagination of large segments of the American public. Obviously, their directness and glib wit makes them excellent contenders for the presidency.
And who was this silver-tongued orator? H. Ross Perot, the two-time, third party independent candidate for president.
Perot did better than most third-party candidates, but never seriously contended for the presidency. He was kind of like the Dr. Phil of politics. Here are some of Dr. Phil McGraw’s quotes:
So, what have we learned today? I’d say… nothing, other than that Ross Perot and Dr. Phil are both from Texas, as is former CBS News anchor Dan Rather:
As I may have mentioned, I’m not much of a game player, and especially cards. I know some of the terms, and that’s about it. Trump, for example, denotes the suit or number that supersedes other cards in a game like bridge or pinochle, if I have that right.
It’s funny to have a presidential candidate with the name Trump who seems to be superceding the others. But it depends on the game. If we’re playing Uno, or Yahtzee, somebody else might be winning. Or surely “go fish” would go to a more relaxed contestant. Someone in favor of amnesty could win a poker game with a full house, or a socially conservative plumber might win with a straight flush.
Pro-business candidates might like running a campaign to the rules of monopoly, but one particular candidate may end up going directly to jail without collecting $200. And one anti-business candidate might learn some things about how business works by playing monopoly, but will probably quit if he can’t bring a printing press to make more money, or get the other players to give their money to him for the greater good.
Maybe the most entertaining debate format would be a pajama party with a rousing game of truth or dare. Or maybe, truth, dare, or with draw from the race.
I heard somebody talking on the radio the other day who made an interesting point, and some other incidents have happened since then that have supported his point. He made the observation that this election isn’t about Republicans and Democrats, or even liberals and conservatives. To paraphrase, it’s about common sense.
Now, that doesn’t mean that Donald Trump or Bernie Sanders actually HAVE common sense, but since the current president and congress don’t seem to, perhaps doing the opposite of what they’ve done will make sense.
I understand the sentiment, but not the logic, any more than I understood the logic of voting for someone because of their color, or voting for someone because of her gender, or voting against someone because he was a Mormon. There are plenty of points of evaluation for each candidate, but none of the above make any rational sense to me.
I think a president should be tough, also dignified. A president should be both forward thinking and conversant in traditions and international relationships. Respect for other nations and for friends and foes in our own country is essential.
Being candid is a good thing, but not when it takes future negotiating options off the table. Repeatedly and purposefully lying for political expediency is short-sighted and a character flaw.
Each New Year I take a look at people of note who passed away during the previous 12 months. That list is subjective, of course. The main web site I refer to is unceremoniously called dead people server (www.dpsinfo.com), and they list around 50 people this year, which is too many to comment on here, so I’ve picked some, and you can look at the rest, if you want. This week I’ll focus on entertainers.
Betsy Palmer meant different things to different people. To me she was a panelist on “I’ve Got A Secret,” the game show hosted by Gary Moore in the late 50’s and early 60’s. To others she was a talented stage and screen actress. More people, sadly, know her from “Friday the 13th” movies, where she played Mrs. Voorhees.
Marjory Lord played Danny Thomas’ wife on “Make Room for Daddy” on television. Dick Van Patten was a daddy of eight on “Eight is Enough,” along with dozens of other TV and movie roles.
More iconic television personalities from my youth passed into the next realm last year. Among them were two “Laugh-In” regulars: Gary Owens, the legendary radio host and emcee, and Judy Carne, the British hottie, and one-time wife of Burt Reynolds.
Elly Mae Clampett headed back to the hills as Donna Douglass passed away. Al Molinaro, who played a cop on “The Odd Couple” and the proprietor of Arnolds drive in on “Happy Days” died of gall stones, which I didn’t know could be fatal. That’s Al for you.
Leonard Nimoy of “Star Trek” fame lived reasonably long and prospered. Martin Milner was the wiser partner in “Adam 12,” and one of two main characters in “Route 66,” among dozens of other roles. Here’s something: He was married once, for 58 years, until death did they part.
Speaking of which, you know Ben Stiller? Well, his mom and dad were a great comedy team, called Stiller and Meara – and Jewish guy and an Irish gal. Funny, right? Well, they were. Jerry Stiller is still with us (he was the dad on “King of Queens”), but Anne Meara died last year.
Marty Ingels is somebody you might not have known. He was married to the beautiful Shirley Jones of Marion the Librarian fame. But I mention him because he was in an odd but wonderful TV show with John Astin (later to play Gomez Addams) called “I’m Dickens, He’s Fenster.” It was a bit ahead of its time.
Dean Jones was the protagonist in about 300 Disney movies in the 1960’s. Melody Patterson was “Wrangler Jane” in the wonderful “F-Troop” TV series. Yvonne Craig was “Bat Girl,” the only secret Alfred seems to have kept from his boss.
Finally, the original British “Avengers,” featured John Steed and Emma Peel. John, played by Patrick McNee, always had an umbrella for rain and for a weapon. Emma, played by Diana Rigg, had wit and great beauty. Well, McNee has left us to fend for ourselves.
Sawyer Sweeten, who played one of the twins on “Everybody Loves Raymond” committed suicide last year due to career, social, and money problems. He was 19. “MASH’S” Trapper John, otherwise known as Wayne Rogers, died on New Year’s Eve, as did Natalie Cole, daughter of Nat King Cole. Both were great singers who died too young.
Lesley Gore was not concerned about global warming, but was concerned about crying at her party, and sang a pre-feminist anthem written by John Madara and David White called “You Don’t Own Me,” which is one of my favorite songs from that era. She was 69.
Ben E. King and B.B. King died a month apart. Ben was best known for “Stand by Me,” which was a great song. B.B. was a blues icon. Our older daughter heard B.B perform live before she was born in Duluth, Minnesota.
Country singer Lynn Anderson never promised us a rose garden, and James Horner’s Heart Went On, but only until his small plane crashed last year. He wrote the “Titanic” soundtrack, but also the music for “Apollo 13,” “The Wrath of Kahn,” and “Avatar.”
Omar Sharif was a dashing actor in Lawrence of Arabia and Dr. Zhivago, and less dashingly an internationally known bridge expert. The card game, not the structures. Louis Jourdan was another dashing actor, as was Rod Taylor. They are dashing no more.
Anita Eckberg starred in “La Dolce Vita,” so I hope her life was sweet. Stan Freberg made life fun for a lot of people through his radio comedy and his many decades of funny commercials. Wes Craven was a gifted director who seemed to think about death a lot. Now he is seeing it first-hand.
James Jude invented CPR. He died July 28th. Two days later Louis Sokoloff died. He invented the PET scanner. Three days later Howard Jones died. He and his wife did the first in vitro fertilization of human babies.
Next week a few more, and some observations about the changing of the guard.
Meadowlark Lemon was a fabulous basketball player and an even better clown who entertained millions with the Harlem Globetrotters over 25 years.
Two other African Americans of note died last year. Edward Brooke was the first post-Reconstruction black person elected to the United States Senate. He was a Republican from Massachusetts. Julian Bond was a civil rights activist, and founder of the Student Non-violence Coordinating Committee and chaired the NAACP. He lived for 100 years.
You have never heard of Charles Townes, have you? He was co-inventor of the laser. Zap. Who is John Nash? He had a Nobel Prize in economics, but he also had a movie made about him. It was called, “A Beautiful Mind.” It was about him going, um, nuts.
Rod McKuen was a very popular poet, which means academic poets didn’t much like him. Here’s a stanza from one of his poems:
“It’s nice sometimes to open up the heart a little and let some hurt come in. It proves you’re still alive.”
Colleen McCullough wrote “The Thornbirds” in which a beautiful woman kept having affairs with a handsome priest. Jean Nidetch didn’t write a novel or have an affair with a priest, as far as I know, but she did found Weight Watchers which has helped a lot of people over the years.
Jack Carter was a comedian who was one of the first to bridge the gap between joke telling and storytelling. He always had a cigar. Paul Prudhomme always had a crawfish. He was one of the early celebrity chefs, making New Orleans cuisine. He was quite round.
You know, millions of people died last year. Some were famous, some weren’t famous at all. Some were our friends and family. Some had no friends or family. Some were killed because of their religion or ethnicity.
We tend to mourn some deaths more than others, either because the people are close to us, or because of their fame or newsworthiness.
Who will we be mourning next year at this time? It’s impossible to tell. Maybe someone will be mourning us? Either way, I guess it won’t hurt to spend some of our time in the next year making things right with the people we care for, and most importantly, if what we’ve been told since childhood is true, we should be sure to wear clean underwear.
The internet is a rich tableau of interesting ideas, expressed by people with many views, and all in all that’s a good thing. Now and then, something is said that, on the face of it, seems right, but upon further review, as the referees say, is really less than right.
Something was posted on Facebook the other day that struck me that way. It was a comparison of Donald Trump and Adolph Hitler. No kidding.
The basis of the comparison was that Hitler promoted fear and hatred of Jews, while Trump, it said, promotes fear and hatred of Muslims.
Now, I’m no expert in German history, but I’m pretty sure that Germany had not been experiencing terroristic threats and attacks domestically or to its worldwide interests by Jewish groups prior to World War Two.
I don’t believe Germany was experiencing a mass resettlement of poorly vetted Jewish refugees from a war-torn area where thousands of blank passports were known to have been stolen, and where authorities admitted to having no idea who the good and bad guys were.
Jews were demonized as being the reason for Germany’s financial problems, and said to be an evil and inferior race, not a military or physical threat to Germans. For their part, I think Jews mostly wanted to be left alone.
Most modern day Muslims also want to be left alone, a point to which I think Mr. Trump would agree. But, even three percent of a billion people wanting to kill or enslave all of us infidels is problematic.
I’m not a fan of Donald Trump for president, and I think he pretty consistently overstates his points and lacks any detectable finesse. But I think it’s pretty irresponsible to compare him to Adolph Hitler. That would be like comparing Franklin Roosevelt to Hitler because they both put people in camps during World War Two.
There is a balance between acting humanely and acting in our national interest, and I fear we have not honored the later obligation. Time will tell. Unfortunately, people who believe in Jihad are more committed to their values than we are to our values of compassion and kindness to those in need, even when they are the recipients.
I’m writing this on my 62nd birthday. That has no special significance, but if you’re like me, birthdays become more about reflection than celebration as the years go by.
Men who turned 62 during the year I was born were already beating the odds, as the average lifespan for men born just prior to 1900 was less than 50. In 1990 my dad died at the age of 73, which beat the average of his peers by 23 years or so. The Second World War and Korea took their toll on that group of men.
So, how long will I live? Who knows? Beyond the decisions we make in risk-taking and lifestyle choices, it’s mostly the luck of the draw. How will I live? That’s up to me.
My daughter got me the book “The Second Half” by Bob Buford last year. The main point of the book is that if you look at life the way you might look at a football or basketball game, you really need to play both halves. He describes and discusses ways to make the second half (or so) of life more meaningful and valuable. A lot of what he talks about deals with using our skills and experience to make a positive difference in the world.
You don’t need to be retired to do that, and in fact starting early in thinking of what “second half” goals we have is a very good idea.
I’m still working, and plan to for some time to come, but it is true that I already have more time to get involved in things these days. I just need to use that time more wisely.
While I do know of people who retired from work and embraced joyfully the art of relaxation, in general it seems that people who keep working – for profit or as volunteers – seem happier than people who don’t.
Nobody knows what will happen with the economy, or society in general, living as we do in such a tumultuous time. Maybe we’ll all be trying to make ends meet until the end. But, optimist that I am, I’m looking forward to plunging forward into whatever comes my way in the years to come, and trying to make my days worthwhile.
By the way: I think it is also worthwhile to spend some time on a recliner!
With lots of gift-giving going on this week, I think we need to be honest with ourselves. Sometimes the phrase “it’s the thought that counts” really is all we can cling to.
Our closets and basements – and return counters at retailers – are filled with very thoughtful and well-intentioned gifts that didn’t quite meet our needs.
Here are some examples of gifts that might not be exactly what the recipient wants:
For Mom:
Anything that includes the words “scrub brush”
A quart of perfume from Dollar Tree
A monogramed designer tarp
For Dad:
Any self-help book with the word “feelings” in the title
The Mossy Oak pedicure kit
A bedazzled tool belt
For A Boy:
Legohs. The building block that doesn’t quite fit with your Legos
The book “How to Yodel”
The “Peter Rabbit” game for Xbox.
For a Girl:
Little Miss Dysentery doll
Tickle Me Donald plush toy
The book: “Julia’s Mom Has Issues”
For Far-away Relations:
The inadvertently aged cheese and sausage gift box
One-size fits all glow-in-the-dark unisex panties
The annual family Christmas letter put to music to the tune of “Who Let The Dogs Out?”
Of course, any of the above gifts probably appeals to someone, which just goes to show you that buying presents is largely making the best guess you can, unless the recipient lets you know exactly what they want ahead of time. That takes some of the fun out of the process, but it’s hard to question the logic of it.
We can all agree that giving gifts isn’t the “reason for the season,” but it’s a nice tradition none the less. It’s also true that a big part of the joy this time of year comes from spending time with the people we care for, and who care for us. But, it is fun unwrapping presents, and watching people unwrap the gifts we’ve selected for them, even if not every choice we’ve made was perfect.
As the saying goes, happiness doesn’t come from having what you want, but rather from wanting what you have. I figure anyone who cares enough to pick out a present for you is already a gift worth appreciating.
There are a lot of gray areas when it comes to buying gifts for people this time of year. And I’m not talking about what’s left of my hair. I mean the question of who a person should give a gift to during this season of presents.
Gifts within a family are one thing, but once you get outside your immediate family, it gets trickier. Nieces and nephews have always been on our list, but now they are all adults, and some are making more income than we do. We rarely see them, and sometimes we have the good fortune to give without receiving, which they say is better. So, we’re phasing them out.
We haven’t given to neighbors in the past, except for cookies and such. To give to one and not another can be a problem, so we figure by not giving gifts to neighbors we’re taking a return obligation off their list of things to buy as well.
Gifts at work are risky, since those relationships generally have an authority dynamic, by which I mean a gift to a boss, for example, may seem like an effort to curry favor. Especially if it’s a nice jar of curry.
It’s always nice to give handmade items for our various winter holidays, especially if it is your hands that make them. That being said, often the phrase “it’s the thought that counts” goes through our minds as we get toilet paper roll cozies and knitted clothing from people who don’t know how to knit.
I think all parents and grandparents want to make the little ones happy. We always tried to give our kids things that they wanted along with things we thought would be good for them. It was gratifying that they never once lead us to believe that they were disappointed. In fact, they genuinely seemed to be more excited about what they had gotten for us than for what they received.
A big Christmas morning can result in a mountainous pile of wrapping paper and an obstacle course of boxes. I wonder how many hundreds of thousands of dollars in gift cards and Barbie high heels are thrown out with the debris each year.
Clergy and atheists sometimes say all this gift giving is promoted for corporate profits. I have no problem with someone making profits, but it’s interesting that the prophets of religions that celebrate holidays this time of year don’t mention X-Box or Star Wars in their writings. They’d probably encourage some balance in realizing the gifts of life and love, and the gifts we buy in the stores.
There is a temptation, in our society, to address difficult problems by passing more laws, or in some cases, making executive orders without legislative approval. It’s a natural response to the outcry that something must be done, and it is totally understandable.
We’ve been trying to legislate an end to poverty and hunger since the mid-1960’s, but the only times hunger and poverty have declined have been during good economic times. The Stimulus plan was supposed to create jobs, but very few were created. You can’t legislate companies to hire people.
Gun violence is a big problem, and many states and cities have tough gun control laws, but they don’t seem to have had a lot of impact. However, that depends on which statistics you read.
It occurred to me that a lot of laws don’t really work very well. Here are some things that people aren’t allowed to do, according to various laws:
Kill people with guns, swords, knives, etc.
Steal identities, cars, guns, televisions, etc.
Sneak into the country
Not pay taxes
Go over the speed limit
Drink and drive
Use illegal drugs
The whole list would take thousands of pages, but my point is that despite these laws, millions have entered the country illegally, many thousands of identities have been stolen, almost everybody drives over the speed limit, and it’s considered okay to use illicit drugs. Don’t even get me going on jaywalking and taking the labels off mattresses.
So, the reality is that only law-abiding people obey laws, and even we/they pick and choose which ones to adhere to.
By definition, people who use bombs, knives, guns, and any other means to kill people, for whatever reason, are not folks who are in the law-abiding category. Neither are people who conduct insider trading or kidnapping or welfare fraud or burglary. They don’t care about the laws. Making more laws will have no impact on them.
So, why make more laws? It seems that giving law enforcement agencies the mandate and resources needed to enforce existing laws makes good sense. And, maybe we need to sift and winnow through our laws to get rid of the thousands that we don’t need.
And, perhaps families, communities, and the various media we surround ourselves with could stand to put more emphasis on being good, moral, law-abiding people instead of celebrating the cheaters and the gangsters.
Laws are necessary, but I don’t think we have a shortage of them. We have a shortage of people who obey them.
I’ve never liked the name Black Friday. It sounds ominous, like a day the stock market crashed. In fact, when I think of Black Friday, I think of Good Friday, ironically, since at the time it didn’t seem very good to those involved.
In recent years we’ve added Small Business Saturday following Black Friday. I like that idea, because it encourages people to buy from their friends and neighbors who own local businesses. I didn’t shop on Small Business Saturday this year, but I plan to make some purchases in town before Christmas.
We just passed Cyber Monday, which is a time when people get especially good deals online. I didn’t buy anything, mostly because the things that were on sale weren’t things I wanted, and I haven’t gotten around to thinking about what to get for other people at this point in the season.
There is also Giving Tuesday, when people are encouraged to support the non-profits they find worthwhile. That’s a good idea.
That leaves Wednesday, Thursday, and Sunday surrounding Thanksgiving as unnamed days. Not surprisingly, I have some suggestions.
Barter Tuesday: People are encouraged to take stuff they have, but don’t want, and trade it for things they want, but don’t have. I envision a flea market atmosphere at every county fairground with cars, bikes furniture, jigsaw puzzles and anything you can imagine trading hands.
Ironic Thursday: This would take place on Thanksgiving, as people run out to buy more things to be thankful for, after having just said how thankful they are for everything they already have.
Shoplifting Sunday: This would be a fun shopping day. People would be encouraged to try to take things out of stores without paying, and stores would have triple security. It would be like a reality show in real life. Paddy wagons would be parked at all major retailers waiting to escort the losing contestants to a free night of lodging, if you know what I mean.
I have other ideas, like putting our presents in briefcases and distributing them in a “Deal or No Deal” manner. You can settle for the Barbie, or hold out for the 70” television, knowing you might end up with a neck tie.
I hope, no matter how you go about it that you give and receive warmth and love along with whatever other gifts there might be during this giving season.
The Thanksgiving holiday is a wonderful concept. Taking a day to be thankful for everything we have – our families, friends, homes, smart phones – is nice gateway to the holiday season. That being said, there are both outstanding and less-outstanding elements to Thanksgiving time.
On the positive side of the ledger I think gratitude is something we don’t think about as often as we should. Or at least, that applies to me. To focus on all the gifts we have is important. And, people who don’t have very much are sometimes the most grateful, which gives me pause.
On the negative side, after a day of gratitude, perhaps realizing that we have everything we need with home and family, many rush out to the stores to buy more stuff. Don’t get me wrong: giving gifts is a wonderful, selfless thing to do. I guess it is the rapid nature of the turn-around from warm thankfulness to manic shopping that gets me.
I like football and eating turkey. The problem is that on Thanksgiving there is way too much of both. Of course I don’t have to eat too much, and I don’t have to watch all the games, but, well, you know.
I hate parades on television. I appreciate all the preparation that goes into them, and I’m glad for the young people who march in the bands, but I honestly don’t know what could be more tedious. And that’s coming from someone who watches baseball and NASCAR.
My least favorite part of parades is the commentators who have nothing to say, and yet talk continually for hours on end.
The warmth of family getting together is really nice. Unfortunately, the Saturday Evening Post covers over the years have painted a picture of domestic perfection, which puts a lot of pressure on the cooks and family members. That pressure results, more often than not, from hurt feelings or, in the worst cases, a fistfight. Alcohol contributes to these issues.
I truly hope that your Thanksgiving is perfect, or that your expectations are in line with reality. I mostly do like the holiday for the same corny reasons a lot of people do. It is nice to have family all together, even though that’s not always possible.
Oh, and be careful not to burn your house down with the turkey fryer.
The tragedy in Paris has a lot of people – including the French, apparently – rethinking their views on the world picture. I am here to tell you that I have no idea what the answers are to a problem that has both just surfaced in the past 20 years, and yet has existed since the 1700’s.
Social media has been ablaze with calls for action and calls for calm. It’s his fault, their fault, her fault, our fault… and each of those contentions has some truth. I’ve always felt, though, that the responsibility for murder falls on the murderer, whatever their bizarre motivations may be.
The French did something that surprised a lot of people. They attacked the “head of the beast” by bombing headquarters of ISIS in Syria. I’m not sure why we didn’t think of that, but I say, good for them! I imagine ISIS was surprised.
Some people posting on Facebook were calling for restraint. I guess it’s the “two wrongs don’t make a right” theory at play. Turning the other cheek may work with individual human interactions, but Russian machine guns don’t leave much of a cheek left to turn, not to mention suicide bombs.
Others are calling for all-out war. I hope we can avoid that.
The British, I believe, are calling this a very sticky wicket, and the rest of Europe is holding its breath. I’m writing this from Washington D.C., which has been threatened again as well. I can’t wait to get home to a less symbolic place!
What to do? Who knows?
After 9-11 there was a radio host who encouraged his listeners to do something that seemed not to be helpful at all, on the face of it. He suggested that people realize what they can’t do to solve the world’s problems, and focus on what they can do to solve their own.
He suggested reinvesting in home and family, looking more deeply into their faith, and thinking hard about what each of us can do to make our own lives more meaningful and well-lived. He talked about re-evaluating our possessions, our indebtedness, our neighborliness, and our family roles.
None of that will defeat ISIS or prevent bombings and such. But, since we as individuals will be hard-pressed to do much on that front, why not do something that’s attainable and valuable?
My goodness. Your goodness. Our goodness. Who knows? It may just catch on.
Former Vice President Al Gore has made quite a career out of his contention that man-made climate change is an “Inconvenient Truth.” His truth was inconvenient because he feels it is necessary to change our economy and our way of life to prevent the destruction of the habitability of earth.
There is some evidence to support his claims, as there is some evidence recently put forth that we’re about to enter an ice age due to sun activity. So, the “inconvenient” part is real, and the “truth” part will be determined by historians.
I saw that Vice President Gore was convening a climate summit at the Eiffel Tower when the horrible murders took place in Paris over the weekend. That made me think about other inconvenient truths that some look away from because they are, well, inconvenient.
France has had a long history of opening its arms to immigrants, and many of them have been Muslims. I have read in the past that there are sections of Paris into which the French police will not venture because of the dangers of Islamic youth who do not accept French law. I’m sure the great majority of Muslim immigrants in those neighborhoods fear those gangs more than the police, but feel powerless to do anything about them.
In recent months, France, and other countries, have taken in many more immigrants from the Middle East, and it appears that the fear that some militants would come in with the truly threatened Muslims has been realized. Western Europe and the United States have humanely offered help, and put ourselves at risk because of it.
I think that is an inconvenient truth.
A pundit claimed, during the “Arab Spring” that radical Islam was seeking a world-wide Caliphate, which is an over-arching government that rules by Islamic Sharia law. That law takes many rights from women, and makes being a non-Muslim very uncomfortable, if not fatal.
That pundit and others were laughed at because the idea seemed so extreme and paranoid. Now the Middle-East has a growing Caliphate, and with large voting blocks in a number of European countries, it’s not impossible that radical Islamists might grow their political power towards that end.
Another inconvenient truth.
France has now closed its borders, and sworn to deal with their enemy. Our borders are not closed, nor will they be for a very long time, if ever. I hope that doesn’t mean that we’re subject to the same sorts of attacks as the French were. The historians will have to report on that as well.
Most of the concerts we go to are at the wonderful Stoughton Opera House. No, we don’t go to operas there, but mostly folky, singer-songwriter, bluegrass sorts of performances.
The acoustics are very good, often prompting performers to do at least one song without amplification. Unfortunately, those good acoustics also allow the sounds made by members of the audience to be heard. The wooden seats squeak a bit, and there’s always somebody in every audience with the occasional cough.
That all goes with the territory of listening to live music, unless it’s so over amplified that the only sound to be heard above the mostly distorted music would be a nuclear explosion.
The other night, though, the performers at Stoughton must have been particular favorites of some in the audience. The show was sold out, and it seemed that some of those in attendance may have come from afar to see the baby Je.. I mean, to see the band.
An old-enough-to-know-better fellow behind me made a number of observations to his friends during the music in a way that one might talk at a club where the main reason to be there is to drink, and the band is an added extra.
There were others in the audience who were also a bit too vocal for my liking, but I’ll admit to being a bit intolerant of such things.
Most concerts at the Opera House include poignant moments of total silence as the last of a beautiful chord ends its resonation. Not the other night.
I should point out that the band didn’t seem to mind a bit, and even I have to admit that it wasn’t crazy enough that it ruined the show for me. I just wonder what it is that makes people think that when they go to enjoy a performance that it is incumbent on them to be part of the performance too.
Different types of music have different expectations of audiences. Classical listeners are expected to keep quiet, even between movements of a piece, though there are usually a couple of audience members who don’t know that, so I don’t blame them.
Jazz audiences are expected to clap after good solos, and perhaps even hoot or whistle. Grateful Dead listeners are expected to be under a personal cloud of smoke.
It’s funny, but the worst and best concert I’ve seen was with Simon and Garfunkel in Milwaukee a few years ago. They were great, but many people around us felt compelled to sing along with all the songs. It was like being in a bad choir.
To be honest, my reaction to loud audience members is probably more evidence (as if more were needed) that I’ve become a crabby old guy, to which I can only say this: “Get off my lawn!”
I like sausage, and now and then I enjoy some bacon. Because I am not a total idiot, I have known for some time that these things are not health foods. Most things that taste really good, aren’t. But man, and woman do not live by kelp alone.
When the World Health Organization (WHO) came out with their big report on cured meats, I didn’t cheer, but I didn’t worry much either. If you missed it, the headline was that cured meats cause increases in cancer.
The folks at www.authenticenlightenment.com looked through the hysteria and offered an analysis which I’ve excerpted below:
“Each 50-gram (1.8-ounce) portion of processed meat eaten daily increases the risk of colorectal cancer by 18 percent, the agency (WHO) estimated.
A 50-gram portion would be the equivalent of eating one hot dog or two slices of bacon. Americans eat about 21.7 grams of processed pork per day, according to a 2011 National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey.
What are the actual odds of getting colorectal cancer?
While most people hear the words “18% increase” and think that their odds of getting this disease have gone to better than one in five, the reality is that it means the odds have gone up 18% from what they actually were. For example when something has a 1% chance of happening, if you increase the chances of that thing happening by 18% the new odds are not 19% as some would think, but 1.1% (1/100) * (118/100) or 118/10000 = 1.1%
{At http://www.cancer.org, their charts say} …men have a lifetime risk of developing colorectal cancer of 1 in 21, or 4.84%, and the odds of a woman catching the same disease is 4.49 or 1 in 22
So even though we know that, according to the stats given, we eat only 43.4% of a hot dog per day on average, let’s assume for the sake of argument that you actually eat a hot dog every single day for your entire life. What does that do to your cancer odds?
Well if you do the actual math and multiply 4.84/100 by 118/100 it means that 18% increase makes a man’s odds of getting colorectal cancer go to 5.7%. For a woman… the odds go up to 5.2%
In other words, if this study is absolutely positively spot on correct, eating that hot dog every single day for your entire life raises your odds of catching colorectal cancer by nearly but not quite….1%.”
I’d bet that getting a colonoscopy and other exams improves your chances of catching cancers in time by more than 1%.
So, now that you’ve got the bottom line, make your own meat choices. And, if you look, you can find bacon and hot dogs that are smoked, and not cured with nitrites and nitrates. They aren’t health foods either, but life is too short to worry about everything.
It has been said that no man is an island, but I understand there’s a guy in Utah who resembles a peninsula, and an unfortunate fellow in Kentucky who lisps and has become an isthmus.
Taking the road less traveled is a great idea, unless it is in our neighborhood lately, since the road is probably less traveled because there is a bridge out.
Early to bed and early to rise may make you healthy, wealthy, and wise, but it’s not as nice as early to bed and late to rise, or sometimes rising to use the bathroom and then going back to bed.
Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today. Also, don’t do yesterday’s work next week, or next week’s work later tonight after the news and a dish of ice cream.
No pain – no gain. A little soreness or mild discomfort will give you just a little gain.
Haste makes waste. Waste makes recycled plastic chairs and compost.
People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones. They should also get curtains and a lot of Windex.
If one picture is worth a thousand words, then a 3-D Imax movie is worth all the words.
What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, but the things that make us itch just make us mad.
He who hesitates is lost. He who doesn’t hesitate but gets lost anyway is a hopeless case.
A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, and yet a handful of birds is nothing but a noisy, feathery disaster.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but absinthe makes you hallucinate and feel kind of sick in the morning.
A penny saved is a penny earned, except with current interest rates, where a penny saved is one-tenth of one percent of a penny earned.
They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but that’s usually the best way to know what a book is going to be about. So, if someone says that I shouldn’t judge them by how they look, I say, “then don’t look like that.”
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is only skin deep. The beholder has eyes with thin skin.
Camouflage seems to be becoming more and more popular. I was moved to consider this subterfuge when I saw some Mossy Oak camouflaged floor tile for sale in Menards on Saturday. Why in the world would you need to disguise your floor?
Here’s what dictionary.com says about the word camouflage: “the act, means, or result of obscuring things to deceive an enemy, as by painting or screening objects so that they are lost to view in the background, or by making up objects that from a distance have the appearance of fortifications, guns, roads, etc.”
You may be like me in finding it surprising that camouflage can be either making something appear invisible or making something seem like something it is not. I can’t help but think of Wiley Coyote painting a picture of a tunnel on a canyon wall, only to have the road runner run through it, after which Wiley smashes into it.
In my lifetime military camouflage has transitioned from shades of green to shades of tan, showing the end (so far, at least) of the cold war and the beginning of a stream of involvements in the sandy countries where green stands out like a sore thumb.
Most camouflage we see as civilians is either meant to imitate military garb or to blend in to hunting habitats. So, wearing either type of disguise to the mall or to the office makes the ability to look like a desert or a marsh pretty useless. The best way to disguise oneself at the mall is to, well, wear clothes that you might buy at the mall. You’ll blend right in!
I think camouflage can appear also in the way people or organizations represent themselves. A politician might wear the disguise of a moderate, but in reality be a conservative or a radical. Another might claim to be for the “little guy,” but not actually even know any little guys.
If I were a duck (How many times have I said that!) I imagine I’d be taken in by both kinds of camouflage: the fake ducks, or decoys, pretending to be real, and the hunters, blending in so well with the background. I’d probably also fly erratically, so I’d be hard to shoot.
As humans we should probably be more aware of the true nature of our surroundings and of the people we encounter. People, and decoys, are not always what they seem.
Sometimes I wonder what I’ll write about in my last column. And, I wonder when that last column will be written. I’m not sure, but it seems to me that in another year I’ll have been writing for the paper for 20 years. That seems hard to believe.
The funny thing is that last week’s column might have been the last. Or this week’s. Or next week’s. Nobody knows the future. The paper could decide not to run my column anymore. I could be faced with a life crisis that would consume all my time and energy. I could die from a terrible typing accident.
I’m reminded of a story about a mother who had very harsh words with her teenaged daughter, who snuck out of her room later that night and was killed. That mother had the rest of her life to agonize over the daughter she loved, and the last words she said to her.
I’m also reminded of an episode of “Everybody Loves Raymond” when Marie says, “Someday you’ll turn around and I won’t be here!” Ray then turns around and says, “Not today!”
Mostly our lives are filled with “not today’s,” and an overwhelming number of goodbyes are temporary. But we don’t know.
Not long after we were married and living in Duluth, we took a trip back to see family in the Fox Valley. We had thought we’d go through Peshtigo to visit a relative who was in a nursing home. Instead, we opted to make our trip quicker with the idea that we’d see her another time. There wasn’t another time, unfortunately.
So, what does this all mean about how we should live our lives? Should we constantly focus on the temporary nature of everything and become maudlin every time we wave goodbye or hang up a phone?
Well, you could do that, but that would make your life less fulfilling, and you’d be a pain to everyone around you. Maybe a better idea is to keep a little nugget in the back of your mind that reminds you to be grateful for every day you have – especially the good ones – and to make sure the people you care for know that you do.
As far as I know this is not my last column. But if it were, I guess I’d be okay leaving you with the thoughts above. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more from life, but there’s nothing better than having gratitude for the people and things – mostly the people – that make our lives worthwhile, and as we reach old age, worth remembering.
To say that I wasn’t a gifted math student would be correct in a hysterically funny way. But a few terms and concepts did stick with me, and while math and human behavior are totally different from one another, sometimes there are carryovers.
For example, the idea of the lowest common denominator is used in adding fractions. Instead of saying 4/8ths or 2/4ths, we say ½. It’s the lowest denominator to express that ratio. Then, if we have another fraction to add, it’s easy if that fraction also has the number 2 as its denominator, even if it is 5/2nds.
Anyway, when it comes to us humans, I’m afraid there is a different kind of lowest common denominator. You can usually find it on TV, with videos of men being struck in the nether regions by various objects, or in the head by a bat that was aimed at a piñata.
Silliness and slapstick are pretty harmless, I guess, but the things on TV that bother me are the Springer/ Povich/ Cunningham/ Wilkow type shows that celebrate the stupidest and most immoral people on the planet, who play out their sick dramas in front of a cheering studio audience.
Who slept with who’s mother, sister, father, dog… and who the baby’s father might be are daily themes. Maybe worst of all is the disingenuousness with which the hosts seem to truly care.
But, like any lowest common denominator, it’s as low a form of entertainment as there is, and human nature makes us somehow enjoy watching people who make us feel like saints and geniuses. It’s like our very own living room freak show.
There are a lot of things in life that pull us down to a low level, but just as many that can raise us up. A good comedy or dramatic movie or TV show, or… and this may sound crazy… but a book, or book on audio can raise us up and broaden our horizons.
Public Radio and TV have much to inform us, as does the library and, interestingly enough, the Bible. Even for non-believers, the Bible can be very interesting and is filled with lessons.
Movies and video games that feature realistic scenes of murder and mayhem don’t elevate us. Neither do “flame-thrower” political programs on radio or TV.
I think maybe we could all benefit from thinking more about what it is we’re consuming in our leisure time, and opt for things that are either neutral or positive in some way. Then we won’t feel quite so bad about laughing when the toddler hits grandpa in that special place with a baseball.
The other day I was watching one of the new channels available on free TV, and lo and behold, there it was: “My Mother the Car.” When people talk about the worst shows of all time, “Mother” comes up pretty consistently. The premise revolves around a man whose mother has been reincarnated as a very old automobile. She speaks only to him through the car’s radio.
The episode I saw was actually not that bad, but the premise of the show is pretty lame. Not too lame to be re-invented by “Night Rider,” in which David Hasselhoff drove an anthropomorphic talking car that solved crimes, or something. That car had the voice of Mr. Feeney from “Boy Meets World,” who was also Dr. Mark Craig on “St. Elsewhere.”
But, I digress. “My Mother the Car” made me think about some of the dumber concepts for situation comedies in the sordid history of television. The premise, or situation, is the hook that is supposed to grab viewers, and should make for much hilarity as wacky things happen. Some show have a dumb premise, but are actually pretty good, thanks to good writing and acting.
It seems that a lot of sit-coms revolve around aliens who crash into the earth and live with humans. “Mork and Mindy” was good because of how cute Pam Dawber was and how talented Robin Williams was. “Alf” was pretty clever. “My Favorite Martian,” Staring Walter Alston of “Damn Yankees” and Bill Bixby who was later the Incredible Hulk, was pretty good, considering the level of special effects available in 1963.
“Third Rock From the Sun” also involved aliens, but they came on purpose to study earthling culture. A dumb situation, but a good situation comedy. “Homeboys From Outer space is a show I don’t think I ever saw.” Here’s what Wikipedia says about the show: “The plot centers around two astronauts… who flew around the universe in a winged car, nicknamed the “Space Hoopty” in the 23rd century. The duo’s car… was piloted by a talking female computer named Loquatia.” How could that not have been a great program?
“The Beverly Hillbillies” might just as well have been about aliens. They were newly wealthy hill people who moved to Los Angeles where they didn’t understand much. “Harry and the Hendersons,” featuring John Lithgow, who was also in “Third Rock,” was about a family that adopted a Sasquatch – otherwise known as Bigfoot—named Harry. Harry wasn’t an alien, but I guess he wasn’t a citizen either. Hey; it could happen!
My mother wasn’t a car, and I don’t drive a Hoopty. Nobody I know is from outer space – as far as I know. I don’t know any hillbilly millionaires. So, I guess my life isn’t likely to become a situation comedy. However there are days…
I’ve mentioned before that at our house, when I was growing up, we sometimes were admonished with quotes from The Bible that were actually from Benjamin Franklin’s “Poor Richard’s Almanac.” One such example may be this: “Neither a borrower nor a lender be.”
Wherever it came from, it is stunningly good advice. Not buying something until you have the money for it provides delayed gratification, and a deeper appreciation for what we have. Not loaning to friends and family helps keep relationships good.
Of course, few people have the resources to buy a home or a car without borrowing money. But, it’s true too that many people buy as nice a home or car as they can, based on the maximum amount the lender will let them borrow. That puts a lot of pressure on a family.
Our national family borrows a lot of money. I looked at http://www.usdebtclock.org/ today to see how we’re doing in the borrowing department as a country. Frankly, it’s not looking very good.
Keep in mind that the numbers fly by pretty fast, and change every second, but here are some I picked out for your reading pleasure:
US National Debt: $18,385,961,800,000. That’s 18 trillion dollars, and growing every second.
US Debt Per Citizen:
$57,148
US Debt Per Taxpayer:
$154,549
Total Personal Debt:
$16,953,752,800,000
Personal Debt Per Citizen:
$52,698
Unfunded Liabilities:
$97,000,000,000,000
Unfunded Liabilities Per Taxpayer:
$820,000
Unfunded liabilities are the money we’re going to have to spend on Social Security and other entitlements at some point, but which we don’t have.
As a frame of reference, the total net worth of the top 400 billionaires in the entire world is only $4.1 trillion. Taxing the rich is a nice slogan, but they don’t have enough money to bail us out of the mess we’re in. Not even if we take everything they have from all the rich people in the world.
So, what do we do? Well, we can cut back on our personal debt to bring some peace of mind.
For the national debt problems, when politicians talk about all the things they’re going to do for us – at least those things that involve money – keep in mind that we are really, really broke.
Eventually there will be a reckoning, for us, for our children, and our grandchildren. The lenders will be unwilling to lend us more, or if they do, it will be at very high rates, and cost us even more.
Unfortunately, talking about these budget issues is very risky for politicians, because nobody wants to give up anything we get from Uncle Sam.
Maybe, just maybe, it is time for us to ask what we can do for our country instead of asking what more our country can do for us.
Children hear the story about the city mouse and the country mouse, and they learn how people’s lives can be quite different based on where they live.
Now and then I pick up on some differences that people might find between living in a rural versus an urban environment. I grew up in a small city and now live in the country, so some of these words and phrases are interesting to me because of how they might be misunderstood.
Here’s what I mean: An urban person might think of corn rows as a very time consuming hair style to receive. A person out in the country drives past rows of corn all summer long.
Speaking of corn, it is stalked. People in towns and cities worry if they are being stalked. Country people too, I guess. Somebody could be stalking them from the corn rows.
Somebody making a very derisive comment can cut you to the quick. When a farmer trims a sheep’s hooves, she or he must be careful not to cut into the sensitive area where there is blood flow – otherwise known as the “quick.”
A person in town might talk about not missing an opportunity by saying they have to make hay while the sun shines. A farmer literally has to make hay while the sun shines, because wet hay molds.
I think my favorite misunderstanding would come in the discussion of “A.I.” For a computer person that stands for “artificial intelligence.” For a livestock farmer it means “artificial insemination.” Both are artificial, but take place at opposite parts of the body.
I probably shouldn’t go into the difference between the rural and the urban meanings of the word “hoe.”
Some schools, especially Ivy Leagues colleges, have fencing teams where they say things like “en garde” and “touche.” On farms, fencing means digging holes, putting in posts, and stretching wire. Very little French is spoken, although there is sometimes colorful language.
In business sometimes people talk about how different departments don’t communicate. They say each department is a silo. A rural silo contains silage, which doesn’t communicate at all.
Anyway, you get my point. Sometimes city and country people may say the same words, but mean very different things. One term that originates in the country actually means the same thing wherever you go. The first part of the term has to do with the male bovine, and the second part; well, let’s just say it has a scent that country people know all too well!
Other than Jiminy, crickets aren’t particularly glamorous bugs. There are 900 species of crickets, including one that is two inches long. Not all species of cricket make the chirping sound. The ones that do have excellent hearing, with ears in their legs. Yep. In their legs.
It seems that the chirps are made by boys trying to meet girls. They rub their legs together frantically to say “you-hoo!” to the ladies. There are a lot of crickets around this time of year, so I guess it must work.
As far as I can tell, crickets are the only bugs that have a sport named after them. That’s something.
When mid-August hits, and the crickets start to do their thing, it makes me a little sad. Not because I can’t make that sound with my legs, no matter how I try, but because it means fall is nearly here.
Like a lot of insects, the population of crickets builds during the summer to a very large number. So, their message of summer ending isn’t subtle. And, as the days go along and the evenings get cooler, the crickets’ message of love gets slower and slower. A very cool October evening features a chirp here and there. It’s kind of sad, really.
What’s really frustrating is when a few of the little buggers slip into our houses, and spend weeks and weeks chirping at night, which is when we humans like to sleep.
Crickets aren’t the only harbinger of fall, of course. About this time of year you’ll notice flies are very good at getting inside. If you leave a car window open, they’ll be in there waiting for you.
We’ve also got the German wasps, otherwise known as pop-can bees. At our house they make the biggest pest of themselves by feeding on the apples.
And, there are always the Asian beetles and box elder bugs. They seem to ebb and flow in numbers, but they are a pain. They also like to live inside, cooking themselves on electric light bulbs, leaving a horrible scent in the air.
There are also the wooly bear caterpillars in the fall. If a bug can be cute, they are. It is said that the size of the brown part in the middle of a wooly bear indicates the severity of the winter. That may be true, or not.
Unfortunately, one summertime bug friend stays with us longer than we’d like. Despite hard frosts, mosquitoes seem to have a way of staying alive to get in those last few bites of the season.
I hope you enjoy the cricket serenades on these late summer nights to come. Just remember, they’re not serenading you.
The new world that the internet hath wrought (pretty fancy words, eh?) has provided us with a number of happenstances that we just take for granted, even though they are a little odd.
For example, we click on “icons.” Icons, in the pre-internet era, were sacred religious paintings. I’m not sure the Facebook “F” is sacred.
However, what has recently struck me is the sites that are named after people. Craig’s List is apparently a list that Craig put together of things people wanted to buy and sell or give away. One of those things is sex, it turns out, but all in all Craig has a nice list.
Angie also has a list. It is a list of service providers that Angie likes. I’m not sure how Angie got to know a plumber in Deerfield, but lots of people like to take her advice.
Emily has a list of donors to Progressive causes. She may have a Conservative yin to her yang, but I don’t know what her or his name is.
Recently a nice girl named Ashley has come into the headlines. Ashley Madison has a website that is committed to breaking commitments. It is a place where people can go to have affairs with other people who want to have affairs.
Now, within the realm of having affairs, there is some small honor in doing it with someone else who is going into it with their eyes wide open. No need to take off the wedding rings.
For some reason I got in their marketing sights, (the site’s sights) and was receiving three or four emails a day, encouraging me to have an affair. One of their emails said, “Life is short: have an affair.”
As compelling as their invitations were, I filtered them out of my emails, which would have been good advice for the millions of people who actually signed up, only to have their email addresses hacked and exposed.
I’m guessing that three-quarters of those people who were busted are men – just a guess. I’m also guessing that those men are really hoping their wives are not internet savvy enough to find that list.
We all kind of feel like the internet is safe, because it’s just us at the keyboard, and we DID have to use a password. It turns out that anything we do on the computer might be on the front page of the New York Times tomorrow.
Not everyone is smart enough to wipe their hard drives clean or destroy hard drives, so perhaps the best advice is to not engage in internet behavior unless you’re fine with everyone knowing about it.
By the way, Ashley, Emily, Craig, and Angie asked me to say hi.
People can’t help what their names are, for the most part. Some marry into comical names, as Jay Leno used to demonstrate occasionally with wedding announcements like “Ickey-Butz Wedding.” And, a person can always change their name, if a judge approves.
But otherwise, we have the names we have, even if they are conducive to jokes.
Fundamentally, I think one of the lowest forms of humor is making fun of someone’s name, which is why I’m a little ashamed of doing so from time to time. It was bad enough to tease like that in third grade, but hey, isn’t being “childlike” considered attractive?
This year’s spate, and slate of candidates provides some good opportunities for campaign slogans by virtue of their names or other non-political factors like professions or sizes. Here are a few ideas for some of the campaigns to consider:
“Trump: He really is a card.”
“Bush: Two in the hand is worth three in the Whitehouse.”
“Hillary: Because she’s there.”
“Dr. Ben Carson for President: It’s not brain surgery.”
“Lindsay Graham: He may be from the South, but he’s not a cracker.”
“Chris Christie: He’s half the man he used to be.”
“Rand Paul: Don’t call me Randy.”
Now, I know that not all of these campaign slogans will make sense to everyone, and I’m okay with that. After all, if I’m going to have to put up with this two year campaign season, at least I can get some amusement out of it.
One of the best president and vice president teams was Bush and Quayle (they sounded like a bird hunting magazine). It’s too bad Lincoln Chafee didn’t run with Gerald Ford (a car dealership), or Ike Eisenhower with Mike Huckabee (Mike and Ike candy).
A year from now we’ll probably know who the final candidates will be, and I hope they’re the best our country has to offer. But, if there’s a funny name or two in the mix, I won’t complain.
Labels are something we’re conflicted about. We feel like it is wrong to label people, and yet labels are also really useful.
Last week I was at a trendy restaurant in Cincinnati, and as often happens, I needed to use the restroom. I scanned the dining room and saw no signs. I did see a double swinging door, like taverns always have in western movies. I pushed one of the doors, trying not to cause a scene by having it knock me over on the rebound. There was a double sink ahead of me, and one door on either side.
Now, they looked like doors to restrooms, but there was no indication of that.
I went back through the tavern doors and asked a waitperson, and she indicated that they were indeed bathrooms. They had apparently failed to label them to avoid designating a gender preference for either one. The word “restroom” would have been a very useful label.
Sometimes we use labels to bunch people or entities together. If we don’t like a category of some sort we often associate them with bigness. Big business, big politics, big labor… somehow being big makes something bad.
We label groups of people too. The terms millennial, gen-x’ers, and baby boomers are used to define generations, and put certain characteristics on the people in those generations. Millennials don’t care, baby boomers are self-centered, etc.
In politics liberals are “bleeding hearts” and conservatives are “racist, sexist, homophobes.” Libertarians are not well enough understood to label.
The thing about labels is that they sometimes have a basis in experience, but too often they are used as intellectually lazy attempts to group people or things in tidy categories – many times in insulting ways.
Some labels have changed over time. Some people call almost any group of people a family. A marriage no longer consists of one man and one woman, according to the law of the land. The word “illegal” has changed to “undocumented” in some circles.
So, you could say that some labels are used to marginalize some groups, and other labels are changed to keep from marginalizing other groups.
I guess things are always evolving, especially in term of language.
Getting back to the whole restroom thing, in Europe the term “water closet” is used almost everywhere, and many are not gender specific. If the door locks, I’m fine with that. If there are multiple fixtures in a restroom, and no locks on the door, I’d just as soon have it be gender-specific. But, I’m old fashioned.
I try to listen when people label other people or things. If I think the labels are unfair, I keep that in mind, and try to make up my own mind.
Sometimes the noise of the political machinery that makes things run (for better or worse) and the troubles that abound in the world just get to be a little too much. When that happens, it is my belief that we need jokes.
To the rescue today comes a post on the internet from Jason W. Stevens who provides us with a collection of two-line jokes:
Parallel lines have so much in common.
It’s a shame they’ll never meet.
My wife accused me of being immature.
I told her to get out of my fort.
Women only call me ugly until they find out how much money I make.
Then they call me ugly and poor.
How many Germans does it take to screw in a light bulb?
One. They’re efficient and not very funny.
What do you call a dog with no legs?
It doesn’t matter; it’s not going to come.
Someone stole my Microsoft Office and they’re gonna pay.
You have my Word.
What’s green, fuzzy, and if it fell out of a tree it would kill you?
A pool table.
Apparently, someone in London gets stabbed every 52 seconds.
Poor guy.
How do you find Will Smith in the snow?
You look for the fresh prints.
I went to a really emotional wedding the other day.
Even the cake was in tiers.
A physicist sees a young man about to jump off the Empire State Building.
He yells, “Don’t do it! You have so much potential!”
A hot blonde ordered a double entendre at the bar.
The bartender gave it to her.
Want to hear a word I just made up?
Plagiarism.
Why do cows wear bells?
Because their horns don’t work.
What did the pirate say when he turned 80?
Aye Matey.
I took the shell off my racing snail, thinking it would make him run faster.
If anything, it made him more sluggish.
How do you think the unthinkable?
With an itheberg.
Someone stole my mood ring.
I don’t know how I feel about that.
I tried to catch fog yesterday.
Mist.
Why does a chicken coop have two doors?
If it had four doors, it would be a chicken sedan.
I told my wife she was drawing her eyebrows too high.
She looked surprised.
There you go. A bunch of jokes. You can actually clip them out of the paper and take them to a party to tell to people. That way you won’t have to worry about being invited to any more parties!
Hi there. Today we’re going to talk about greed. Everyone from the President to the Pope has been disparaging our culture of greed lately, and I figured this might be a good opportunity to consider what greed is, what it isn’t, and whether it is (gasp!) not that bad.
The common definition of the word greed is: an excessive desire for wealth or possessions.
So, a normal desire for wealth or possessions (which really are the same thing) isn’t greed, but an EXCESSIVE desire for them is.
Here’s a question: Who decides the definition of “excessive?” Is it excessive to demand a wage of $15 per hour if your skills are worth only $10 per hour? Is it excessive to want a Toyota rather than a Kia? Words like “excessive” are subjective, meaning we might all define them differently, and all of us would be right. And wrong.
Next; is it bad to want wealth and possessions? If you have two televisions, a “smart” phone, a microwave, or a bicycle worth more than $250, raise your hand. Your grandparents would have thought all of those things are unnecessary, not to mention cable TV, a boat, an ATV, air conditioning, and a drone. However, having them doesn’t feel like greed, does it?
We were walking through Menard’s yesterday and observed that there are so many amazing tools and other products that have been invented and marketed to help solve all sorts of problems one might face. You could say that each person and company that sells these products is greedy because they want to make a lot of money. And yet, if not for that desire, how many inventions would never have come to fruition?
Our whole system is built around finding a problem, coming up with a solution, and then taking the risk required to market that solution with the hope of gaining wealth. Without the potential of gaining wealth, why bother? And how would life be without all those entrepreneurs coming up with those ideas and taking those risks? We’d be stuck in the Middle Ages.
That’s why I think the desire for wealth is good. Human nature responds to incentives, be they wealth or personal satisfaction.
Bill Gates is certainly thought of by some as being a greedy guy. And yet, his foundation wrote checks for more than $3.5 billion last year alone, helping to make real progress for the health and wealth of people all over the world.
To me, wanting more isn’t bad. Harming people, or lying or cheating to get more is very bad, and there have been people who have done that in the past, and continue to do so now. They aren’t greedy; they are criminal – or at least immoral.
So, that’s my two cents about greed. Make that four cents. What the heck: ten cents.
The internet is truly amazing. Like all new technology it provides heretofore unanticipated opportunities for great good (and, sadly, great evil).
One unanticipated result from the internet is the confusion and unintended humor. I’m not talking about the web sites one can visit, but the addresses we use to get to those web sites.
The other day I was driving behind a truck and saw a web address for the company. It said, as I read it, “T Women and a Truck.” Of course, what it really said was “Two Men and a Truck.” It was at that moment that I realized that the people who participated in the evolution of our language were very smart to have invented spaces, and the people who make the rules for computer communication didn’t foresee the consequences of taking spaces out.
Numerous places on the internet provide examples of web addresses that can be misconstrued in various ways. I’ll let you figure out what is funny about each one:
“Who Represents” is a site where you can find the name of the agent that represents any given celebrity. Their web site is: www.whorepresents.com. Looking for a pen? Look no further than “Pen Island” at: www.penisland.net.
Unfortunately, a surprising number of these web addresses are way too graphic to share here, which begs the question as to whether the people coming up with those web sites were oblivious, or were picking racy site names to get attention. I think they just didn’t see the alternative spacing and the unfortunate phrases that resulted.
Spaces are like invisible punctuation. You have probably heard the following as an example of the importance of punctuation:
Let’s eat, Grandma!
Let’s eat Grandma!
As I said, the internet provides us with the good and the bad, and also, apparently, with the serious and the amusing. And sometimes the funny things are on purpose!
Religion is a pretty serious topic for many people. Some see it as the answer to everything, and others see it as the cause of all that is wrong. People have been, and continue to be killed over what the killers see as some sort of religious prerogative. Many more people have found great comfort in religion, and the mandate to do good for others.
All that being said, most religious people find room in their world views to include an element of humor. Some people get quite nervous about religious jokes, and one religion in particular, which shall go unnamed, doesn’t seem to have any sense of humor at all.
Last week I heard two jokes of a religious nature, and they reminded me of a third that I heard some time ago.
The first joke goes like this: Three Jewish mothers are talking. One says that her son is a great physician. “The other doctors come to him for advice. He is very important!”
Another of the mothers says that her son is a lawyer, and a very great one. “My son gets calls from the White House asking for his wisdom! He is highly respected.”
The last mother sits back smugly and says, “Well, my son is getting therapy from the best psychiatrist in all of New York; and do you know who he talks about? Me!”
The second joke is about a Buddhist who walks up to the counter at a fast food restaurant and says, “Make me one with everything.”
The third and last joke takes place in New Testament times. Jesus comes upon a crowd who are about to stone a sinner woman. He says, “Let whomever among you is without sin cast the first stone.” From the back a stone is hurled towards the woman, hitting her on the arm. Jesus turns around and says, “Mom! Stop it!”
So that’s my three jokes. They were told to me, in order, by a Jewish man, a Buddhist, and a Catholic. That, in itself, sounds like the beginning of a joke. “A Jew, a Buddhist, and a Christian walk into a bar…”
With so many serious things going on in the world – an unholy war in the Mideast, the Pope criticizing the free market economic system (where The Church gets all of its income), and either joy or anger over cultural changes surrounding marriage and gender, maybe it’s good to take a break now and then to joke around a little.
Donald Trump is someone I generally don’t take seriously. He is the definition of self-parody. He is also very wealthy and successful. So, while he is clueless and tone-deaf, he seems also to have some intelligence, which often remains well hidden.
He has dipped his toe into the political waters of late, and he has taken mucho flack for comments he made about immigration. I didn’t hear his quote, so I looked it up, and distilled it into the key points:
Mexican immigrants “have lots of problems” and are “bringing those problems to us.”
These are obviously the words of someone who doesn’t have a speech writer. Mexicans and former Mexicans are most unhappy with him, as are fair-minded people everywhere.
The funny thing is that if that speech writer he didn’t have had worked on those key points, she or he could have come up with something that not everyone would have liked, but would at least have made some sense.
Here’s my stab at what he could have said:
“One reason so many good people want to come to the United States is that their lives in Mexico are very hard, and they want the chance for a better life, away from the poverty and violence.
However, since we have no control over our border, we have no control over who enters our country. We have no way to keep out the drug smugglers, gang members, and other criminals who come here for nefarious purposes.”
Is that better?
It has been my view for a long time that our antiquated immigration process is to blame for the influx of so many people – both good and not so good. And yet, nothing has been done to change how we do things.
If Donald Trump or Hillary Clinton or anybody else came up with a sincere plan to manage who it is who comes here, while greatly improving and expanding our capacity for legal immigration, I’d be a big fan – at least of that policy.
My sister has said to me that Mexicans are, by and large, good, hard-working people with strong faith and a culture of family. Why wouldn’t we welcome them? I think she makes a good point.
Donald Trump might not agree with my assessment, but not surprisingly, I don’t care. He has put his foot into his very large mouth, and has become a bigger caricature than he already was. I’m guessing that he doesn’t surround himself with people who are critical of what he says. Maybe he should hire some.
When I was a kid, my parents struggled to have a garden in our yard, but it was too shady to produce vegetables. They eventually rented a plot at a community garden, and seemed to enjoy it.
I learned a little about gardening from them, and some from my father-in-law, who had a very large garden to help feed his nine children. His daughter has been my best source for gardening information.
People who are serious about gardening take classes and become master gardeners, but so far that doesn’t appeal to me. If things don’t grow now, I can just shrug and say, “Oh well.” If I actually had proper training, there would be no excuse. I know that’s flawed reasoning, by the way.
I do have a few tips to share with anyone who has a garden, is thinking of having one, or just enjoys hearing about other people’s struggles.
If someone is a little too quick to offer you plants from their garden, be suspicious. If they have enough to give away, the plant probably reproduces faster than bunnies.
The mint family is huge, with over 7,000 types, including a lot of herbs we use in the kitchen. That being said, spearmint, lemon balm, and my lawn nemesis, Creeping Charlie, spread like crazy. Once you plant mint, be ready to treat it as a weed.
There’s a really cool looking succulent plant named purslane. It is edible, but eat fast, because it grows everywhere, and once you have it, you need to pull them out for years to come.
If you are planting or transplanting plants just before a big rainstorm, water them anyway, because the fact that you want it to rain means that it will not.
Certain plants don’t get along with each other. Potatoes and tomatoes are in the same family (nightshade) but won’t grow well if they are too close. There are other do’s and don’ts of plant placement.
The best way to avoid having numerous 20 pound zucchini plants left over is to not plant them in the first place.
Embrace the wind. There isn’t enough “Deet” to withstand a July assault of mosquitoes on a still day.
As ironic as it may sound, don’t spend so much time working on your garden that you forget to stop and smell the roses.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s all a bunch of hooey. That’s right. Hooey.
Oh sure, they’ll tell you all sorts of facts and figures, and stories about how it makes perfect sense, but in my mind there’s nothing there but some agenda to make me change my mind, but I’m not going to!
Of course there are the news stories on TV, radio, and the internet. They go on and on about it, with their fake expressions of concern. The late night comedians will all joke about it, or mostly about those of us who don’t go along with it. They imply that we’re stupid, but I don’t think we are.
Then the movie stars and other celebrities (who we’d never have heard of if not for the reality shows that pollute the air waves) have to make their comments. Being on TV or in a movie doesn’t make your opinion and more or less important than mine. That’s what I think.
The thing is, they show all sorts of examples to support their view, but ignore incidents where the opposite view contradicts their points. I’m not saying they’re completely wrong. I’m just saying that there is another valid point of view. That’s all I’m saying.
They talk about facts and statistics that may or may not be reliable. The opponents have different facts and figures, though who knows if they’re reliable either.
The worst thing is when they imply that those of us who don’t buy into it all don’t really care about what happens. We do care. I care. I just think sometimes we have to look at something that doesn’t ring true and say so. Name calling is the easiest way to marginalize the opinions of someone who disagrees with you.
Some people say we’re just afraid of change, or that we’re too set in our ways. I guess there could be some truth in that, but is it also possible that some others are obsessed with change, and haven’t thought through the ramifications of what they’re putting forward? There have been many wonderful changes in the past 50 years, but let’s face the truth that there have been some changes that didn’t work out so well.
In closing, let me just say that the story about the king’s new clothes is worthy of a re-read. Go ahead, if you want, and support all this that’s around us, but personally, I think it is risky business, bad for the country, and mainly just plain hooey.
When it gets to be summertime, I think of summers from my childhood. That first week after school let out was unparalleled by any adult experience.
I was thinking about what normal was like back then, as opposed to today. It was normal for any kid older than seven to ride bikes almost anywhere in the town where I grew up. We’d tell our moms where we were going, but there was no fear of unsavory characters accosting us. I’m sure they were around, but we didn’t know about them.
And, most of our moms were home. Some worked, but most didn’t. So, not only did we answer to our own moms, but to the other kids’ moms as well.
There were also dads to be answered to if we were bad. They came home from work before dinner, except for those who had jobs that required shift work. Only one of my friends had no dad at his house. One other friend’s dad had been divorced, but had remarried. So, 8% of my elementary school class came from families of divorce, and 4% were raised in a single parent household.
I don’t know of anyone in elementary or middle school who was gay. Actually, that word wasn’t used in that way until high school, if I remember right. I’m sure some friends and classmates were gay, ultimately, but it wasn’t talked about.
Food stamps existed, but if anyone in my neighborhood got them I didn’t know about it. It was far from a wealthy neighborhood, but I think every family had an income.
Fast forward to modern times. According to a US Census report in 2009 (and I’m pretty sure things haven’t improved since then) 26% of children live in single parent homes. It says that 33% of single parents get Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program payments. By the way; 18% of the single parents were men.
In terms of kids’ freedom of movement, some people in Maryland recently had their children taken from them because the kids were allowed to walk home from school. They were described as being “free range children.” And, while it’s true that some parents are overly protective, the number of predators seems to have grown dramatically over the years, so more caution is a good thing.
Being gay, or bisexual, or transsexual, or “gender creative” seems to have become something that parents worry about in their elementary school students. In an effort to prevent closed-mindedness and bullying, the topic of sexuality seems to creep into almost everything. I read about one kid who felt guilty for not being gay.
It’s startling how much things have changed since my childhood. Certainly there have been many good changes. Some changes aren’t good or bad. Some are probably bad.
People talk about “the new normal,” which may be a fair assessment. In some cases, I think normal hasn’t really changed, but we’re told that it isn’t a valid measure of people or society.
As I age, I can better understand now why my parents were wary of the social changes that were happening in the late 1960’s.
It turns out that change isn’t hard at all, but in fact very easy. Assessing which changes are good and which aren’t is the hard part, and hindsight is the only sure way to judge.
There was a time in all of our lives when we realized that we, and other people, had various body parts. We didn’t know what they were called at first. The “Got your nose” uncle or neighbor helped out with putting a name on the old smeller, and the diaper changing routine familiarized our young minds with what our butts are.
Over time, we needed more information, and as a means of educating our young selves, and working on some muscle coordination, we were taught the “head, shoulders, knees, and toes” song. To refresh your memory, the song consists of the title, repeated twice, followed by “eyes and ears and a mouth and a nose,” concluding with another repetition of the title.
The idea is to touch the various body parts as they are referenced in the song. As I said, it’s good for coordination training and also for fitness – especially the toe part.
To refresh your memory, the song basically consists of repeating the body parts in the name two times, listing the eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, and then repeating the head, shoulders, etc. again.
As we reach what might be charitably called “upper middle age” we all know what our various body parts are called. We may not be able to reach them all, but we know what they are.
It occurred to me the other day that that song does a surprisingly good job of identifying maladies that I and others of my era are dealing with.
Head: In addition to migraines, who among us doesn’t need to have their head examined?
Shoulders: Frozen shoulders, rotator cuff tears, and bursitis are going around. I’m thankful for the physical therapist who helped me with mine.
Knees: I know several people my age who have had one or more knee replacements. My knees are fine, as long as I don’t run too much.
Toes: Bunions aren’t just giant loggers. Women who wore stylish shoes for years pay the price.
Eyes: Not only do most of us wear glasses, but some have glaucoma, macular degeneration, and/or cataracts.
Ears: I know I’ve lost some hearing in both ears – one more than the other. I’m mostly just annoying the people who talk to me by asking them to repeat everything at this point. But, some sort of hearing aid will likely be in my future. A great joke on that topic:
“I love my new hearing aid!”
“What kind is it?”
“Three o’clock.”
Mouth: Crowns and bridges sound very royal and impressive until they put them in your mouth.
Nose: Between allergies and sinus conditions, the over-the-counter industry and the tissue companies are doing quite well.
So, all together now, for those of us who can: Head, shoulders, knees, and toes, knees and toes…
Next we’ll tackle the “Hokey Pokey” and the meaning of life. That’s what it’s all about, after all.
Scientists are very helpful. They help identify the things that are killing us, like, for instance, stress, which then stresses us further and hastens our demise.
That may be an exaggeration, of course, but some things have come to light in recent years that I had not previously been overly concerned about, but which have ill effects on our well-being.
Sleep comes pretty naturally to most of us. Sleeping for eight hours always seemed like kind of a luxury, especially after children came on the scene. Staying up late and getting up early was the normal schedule – especially if a person liked to watch David Letterman’s show which, during his days at NBC, didn’t come on until 11:30 at night.
Now we’re told that getting less than eight hours of sleep is very bad for us. They’ve done tests, as scientists will, and they note that aging accelerates when you don’t get enough sleep.
Here’s another thing; and this hasn’t gotten much media attention: Our bodies and brains love being on a schedule. So, if we go to bed at 10pm every night during the week, and then stay up to 2am on Saturday night, our bodies react very badly, and the shock also causes our systems to age faster. So, being spontaneous is also dangerous.
Inflammation is apparently the root of all evil, replacing money from that spot. Heart disease, cancer, and probably ingrown toenails are all caused by inflammation. What causes inflammation? Everything. Stress – both physical and emotional — flour, sugar, dairy – basically, everything that is good in life.
The list goes on, but rather than dwell on that, I have discovered the antidote. At least it is for me.
I find that working in the garden for hours at a time has a very calming effect. When I think about how much needs to be done in the garden the stress starts up again, but sitting there pulling weeds or breaking up clumps of soil or picking out rocks from the beds lets my mind wander from the loads of debris my brain gets filled with from computers, phones, television and radio.
As a side benefit, that sleep issue tends not to be one when a person is physically tired and full of fresh air. The trick is to get to bed before falling asleep in the living room.
So, to summarize, everything you thought was fine in life is bad for you and will shorten your life except for working for hours at a time in the garden. If you don’t have a garden, find someone who has one that needs weeding. Hint, hint.
A childhood friend and classmate died a couple of weeks ago. It was sad to learn of his death, but I hadn’t had any contact with him since high school, so I can’t pretend that we were close. But, try as I might, I couldn’t think of a single memory of him that wasn’t nice. That’s something.
Steve went to my school, which drew students from around the Oshkosh area. He lived in a neighborhood outside of town, and I would sometimes ride my bike out to that area to play football and baseball, and they would come into town for our junior baseball league games.
He wasn’t the best student in our class, but neither was I. Far from it. But my recollection is that he tried pretty hard, and reading his obituary it was clear that he had done well, graduating from college and serving time in the Navy before starting his second career.
It’s funny, but with the advent of Facebook, it’s possible to reconnect with a lot of people from early in your life. I’ve found around half of the 25 classmates from my first nine years of school. So, I know they’re alive. I hadn’t found Steve, so, like the others who are unaccounted for, I didn’t know if he was alive or not. It turns out that he was; but now he isn’t.
I believe that we all change as we travel through life, and it isn’t necessarily true that friends from fourth grade would be friends in our 60’s, given all the different experiences we have had. But, personalities don’t really change much over time, according to psychologists, so maybe those people from the past would be, if nothing else, known commodities.
I do enjoy seeing comments on Facebook from some of those old friends of mine, and have exchanged emails with some. There are a handful I’ve seen on and off in recent years, and it has been universally nice to see them.
It seems that Steve had a good life, and many people who cared for him, judging by the obituary anyway. That’s good to know. Life is more than passing a spelling test, fooling around in the lunch room, or playing baseball after school, but those things are a part of life we share with childhood friends, and I’m not sure a lot of things we do as adults are really any more important.
Goodbye to Steve, and to all my classmates of old, I appreciate the many rich memories of a time when we were all trying to figure out who we were and how we would fit in to this world.
Marriage has been on my mind this week. I’m glad to be in a marriage, especially with the right person. We hadn’t really thought things through when we got married, so I wouldn’t dare give advice on choosing a mate. We were impetuous young people who happened to get it right.
I heard a discussion on arranged marriages in India. The upshot of the conversation was that, over the long run, arranged marriages seem to be as good, or better, than marriages where people make their own choice. I wouldn’t like to have a mate chosen for me, but since marriage is about adapting to each other as we change, why not start immediately?
Newsweek magazine ran an article on research that followed thousands of couples who were contemplating divorce at one point, and then interviewed them 20 years later. Those who remained married were dramatically happier than those who got divorced – statistically. That doesn’t mean that many who chose divorce didn’t make the right choice, but on balance, sticking it out was most often a good choice.
Now and then I read about a famous couple who have an “open” marriage. I’m not exactly sure what the rules are, but it sounds more like dating than being married. Not even going steady, really.
Some sects practice polygamy, or multiple spouses. At first blush, that sounds like fun, from the husband’s point of view. Upon further review, as they say in the NFL, it is probably a nightmare. One wife to apologize to on a daily basis is enough
I come from a long line of married people. Not everybody can say that anymore, with so many single parents having children who become single parents, ad infinitum. Since one of the best predictors of financial stability is having two parents living in the same home, it’s probably not a healthy trend to have fewer marriages. We haven’t done a good job of teaching young men to respect women, and young women to respect themselves.
In the card game pinochle, a “marriage” consists of a king and a queen of the same suit. That’s all I know about pinochle. Maybe human marriages work well when the couple treat each other as a king and a queen without either feeling that they are one.
I’ll soon be walking one of our daughters down the aisle, and welcoming another son-in-law to our family. I have every confidence that they will have a good life together because they make a good team.
Maybe that’s what marriage is all about. Sure, sometimes you have disagreements, but when the chips are down, you’re a team, and in this crazy world, it’s sure nice to have at least that one person to depend on, and to have your back.
This week I’m writing to you at 4:30am from Atlanta’s giant airport. I just flew in from Las Vegas (and, as the joke goes, boy are my arms tired) after a long day of meetings. I slept a little bit on the flight that left at 11pm Pacific time last night.
I mention this odd hour (I normally sleep until 7am, but listen to the radio until 8am or later), because by violently violating my routine, I’ve probably cost myself some alive-time.
That’s right: in addition to everything else that’s bad for us, it turns out that not having a consistent schedule is rough on our bodies, including all those important slimy organs that do so much work to keep us going.
The article I read, which I’m probably reporting on poorly (lack of sleep) said that our bodies really like consistency, and not getting it makes our body parts age prematurely. Oh, that’s just great! Especially for people who work in rotating shifts, like to drive to Florida in one shot, or, basically, do anything interesting and exciting.
Scientists have gotten more and more preachy about getting enough sleep over the past few years. Not only does too little sleep age our bodies, it can contribute to Alzheimer’s onset as our brains can’t clear out the debris that collects there. And by debris I don’t mean memories of having watched Jerry Springer and his ilk, but rather actual chemicals that build up during the day.
In a positive development, some scientists are saying that gluten isn’t as evil as they had thought unless you have Celiac disease, which is an allergy to gluten. Since I’m a glutton for gluten, that’s good to know.
More good news: salt isn’t evil unless you have high blood pressure. But, wait until next month.
Sugar, on the other hand, is very bad. Here’s the reason it is very bad: It is very good. I’m just waiting for the day science tells us that Brussels sprouts are a carcinogen. It will probably be a very cold day in a four-lettered town in Michigan.
And, while we’ve been gooping sunscreen onto our Scandinavian epidermises, we’ve been depriving our bodies of vitamin D, the absence of which isn’t a good thing.
My dad was a creature of habit, and most weeks his getting up and going to bedtimes didn’t vary by more than 20 minutes. He ate at consistent times in the day, including his “second breakfast” of toast and jelly around 10am. His habituations bothered me, and I swore I didn’t want to be like that, but as age creeps along, I realize that consistency does make me feel better.
By now it’s 5am, and before long I’ll be on my way back home, trying to be at least somewhat productive despite having had little sleep. And, despite the joke above, my arms really are tired. I must have not slept on them funny.
One thing that must be said about winter is that it is a good time to sleep. There are no birds finding their voices at 5am, no sun coming up pre-maturely, and if you like a cool room, that’s generally no problem.
There are downsides too, of course. Getting into a cold bed is pretty rough, but flannel sheets make that tolerable. Getting up in the morning is also harder, because the bed is so warm and the air is so cold.
We just made our semi-annual switch from flannel to percale last night, signaling our optimism that the cold nights are over for the year. However, it still feels nice to have a blanket or two on while we sleep, which causes the fan conundrum.
We live in an old house. Our upstairs was once nothing more than a one-room loft, I’m sure. The ceilings are quite low upstairs, so the idea of putting a fan up there brings up images of unfortunate decapitations.
So, we have tried a number of floor fans, ranging from the tall and slender multi-fan units to the “fan on a stick” type that can oscillate.
The problem is that both the air temperature and our body temperatures change through the night, so a fan might make us too cold or not cool enough. A bigger problem, though, is the sound the fan makes. It seems quiet enough, but there’s a chance one or both of us will wake up with a headache in the morning.
We are fortunate to have an air conditioner, but it mostly only works downstairs, and besides, it seems foolish to run that when the air outside is still pretty cool.
I’m thinking the best alternative is to buy one of those drones that has four helicopter-type rotors. I can set it to hover over our bed, but to get out of the way if one of us gets up at night. Better yet, how about some trained humming birds to fan us with their tiny wings? Or how about half-naked natives fanning us with enormous leaves?
The truth of the matter is that the fan conundrum is one of those problems you only have if you have a house and bed to sleep in, so it really isn’t a big deal. It’s actually evidence that life is pretty good.
Maybe what we need to do is invest in some ear plugs. That way we won’t hear the fan, the early birds, or any snoring that might take place.
Besides, winter will be along again before we know it.
I like to listen to music, and I also enjoy the lyrics to a lot of songs. Sometimes the words are like beautiful poems, and sometimes they are odd, or even baffling.
This morning I was listening to an oldies station, and heard the following lyric from The Five Stair Steps’ song, “Ooh, Child”: “Someday, girl, we’ll put it together and we’ll get it undone.” What are they talking about? Legos? A cake mix?
During my lifetime there have been a lot of songs that were intended to be weird or non-sensical. John Lennon of the Beatles wrote a number of them. “Come Together” has one particularly interesting line: “He wear no shoe shine, he got toe jam football…” Isn’t toe jam the stuff that sock lint leaves between your toes?
My winner for the most interesting collection of words in one song verse goes to Carley Simon’s “Your So Vain.” It includes the words “yacht,” “apricot,” “strategically,” and “gavotte” (a French dance).
Finding words that rhyme can be really difficult when trying to get a message across. Bob Dylan’s “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go” includes this rhyme: “I looked for you in old Honolulu, San Francisco, Ashtabula…” I’m guessing that many of the good people of Ashtabula, Ohio don’t even know they’re in a Bob Dylan song.
Maybe the most interesting first line of a song is from Paul Simon’s “Everything Put Together Falls Apart”: “Paraphernalia never hides your broken bones.” The song is about how taking pills to hide sadness doesn’t really work.
Robert Plant of Led Zeppelin fame says that the song “Stairway to Heaven” was intended to be an environmental awareness message. This comes from that song: “If there’s a bustle in your hedgerow, don’t be alarmed now, It’s just a spring clean for the May queen.” Somehow that doesn’t fit my idea of rock lyrics, but then again, I’ve never had a bustle in my hedgerow.
Rap and hip-hop lyrics are often improvised, and as such can be either brilliant or, well, dumb. From Project Pat: “I’m hungry for cheese like hungry, hungry hippo.” What? From Dr. Dre: “Never let me slip, cuz if I slip I’m slippin’.” True. And from 2 Chainz: “She has a big booty so I call her ‘Big Booty.’” Good thinking.
A few song lyrics really bug me, even though the songs are good. David Gates of the band Bread wrote the grammatical abomination: “Baby, I’m a Want you.” Sounds like Cookie Monster. Paula Cole’s “I Don’t Wanna Wait” includes: “Open up your morning light, say a little prayer for I.” It’s “me,” Paula. Besides, “light” and “I” don’t really rhyme anyway.
Many music lyrics are like poetry. But, unlike poetry, if you don’t care that much for the words, thankfully you’ve always got the music!
You know the phrase, “No news is good news.” I wonder if there is an opposite phrase, like, “Too much news is bad news.” The explosion of media has made the news business very competitive, which is mostly a good thing. Counting internet sites, there is more news available now than ever before.
The way news is delivered, especially on television, is another matter. Research, like focus groups, has led TV news organizations to behave in certain ways that focus on certain kinds of news to the exclusion of other kinds of news.
Weather has become the biggest deal ever. Reporters standing out in hurricanes or snowstorms give out life-saving tips, like, “go inside.” The saddest reports involve some poor reporter standing someplace where there was supposed to be severe weather, but nothing happened. They have to spend two minutes recapping that nothing happened.
I saw a report on CNN after the recent terrible tornadoes in Illinois. The anchor made a couple of factual mistakes, but nothing serious. The reporter on the scene made the following comment about the two women who died in the tornado: “They decided to ride-out the storm.”
Okay, I get that people are said to ride out hurricanes, for which there are usually many days’ notice. But how do you NOT ride out a tornado? Do you evacuate March first and return December first? He made it sound like these ladies made a foolish decision, when in truth they went to the basement, which is all you can do in a tornado.
All the 24-hour news channels are put in position of needing to report on stories for which little information is available. All they can do is recap what is known, and speak hypothetically about what may be known, and bring on a parade of experts to tell what they think might have happened.
It can be compelling to watch, and for people who are very interested in finding out what happened, it’s hard not to watch. But, for the most part, the operative phrase is “we still don’t know what happened.”
It used to be that the news was summarized for us by our local news stations and the three national TV networks once each day, with brief newsbreaks from time to time. With a limit of 30 minutes for the national newscast, minus 12 minutes for commercials, we really didn’t get very much news back then. But what we got was mostly pretty accurate and well thought-out.
And, while news anchors surely had opinions that leaked through back then, the line between reporting and editorializing has become pretty blurry. For example, while both FOX News and CNN have some good news shows, both networks also have shows that take strong views on issues, as do other networks. It isn’t a bad thing to hear different views, of course, but that really isn’t news.
All that being said, I don’t have much patience for people who avoid learning about the news, especially if they vote anyway. Weather can impact our lives – sometimes a lot. But, what’s happening in the world, our country, our state, and our towns is more likely to affect us and our future, and the futures of our children.
I had an interesting day last Wednesday. The state of Florida has decided that businesses like the one I work for need to get all of their employees fingerprinted in order to continue to do business in that state.
When I first learned of this, I thought it was dumb, but then I realized that if you want to prevent con-persons from cheating people, screening the FBI database for criminals isn’t a bad idea.
My company provided the fingerprinting service to everyone, but only in St. Cloud, Minnesota where everybody else is located, so rather than making a 12 hour round trip, I was encouraged to do it locally.
I decided to contact the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Department, and learned that they will do fingerprinting at the jail. I called, and learned that they would get to me as time allowed, and that I could come in anytime.
So, I did. To those who haven’t had the Jefferson County Jail experience, you arrive in the lobby on the ground floor, and take an elevator to the basement. At that point you enter a room that is painted gray, with a number of very heavy doors, which are also gray, some chairs, and a service window.
On that day there were several young men chatting in the waiting room. I know it was the waiting room because of a sheet of paper on the wall that said, “Welcome to the Jefferson County Jail Waiting Room.”
It turns out that they were waiting to go back to their cells after a day of work under the Huber Law, which allows some inmates to remain employed while they serve their time. I think that law is a good idea, since having a job is important for more reasons than just the money.
One by one they were welcomed back into the locked area for the night. I went to the counter, and was told that it would be a while, since it’s a busy time of day at the jail. The lights were off in the office, and I asked why. He said it was so they could see outside the office without the glare of the lights.
Eventually I decided to leave and come back in the evening. When I got back, several people were coming or going, having visited with inmates through the glass with the phones, just like on television. I was struck by how young and polite the visitors – mostly women – were.
There is a machine in the waiting room that allows visitors to deposit money for their favorite inmate to use. A couple young women put money in while I waited.
It was finally my turn, so I was let through the locked door, and frisked. The deputy apologized, but there was no need to have. Then, before going through the next door, the officer waited for a man dressed in orange to be ushered through another door. Then I got fingerprinted.
It was kind of a throw-back for the officer, since people are now fingerprinted electronically, since that makes cross-referencing through the FBI database much more efficient, but I needed the old ink and paper method.
Before I knew it I was done, and leaving the jail. I thought a lot about the folks who couldn’t go home that evening, and what their crimes had been, and if they’d decide not to commit those crimes again. Any thoughts I’d previously had about committing a crime were purged from my mind. I like to go home.
When my parents moved into their “retirement” house in Oshkosh, the builder didn’t do a very good job on the landscaping. Contractors weren’t supposed to plant anything, but top soil was to have been spread, making the growing of a lawn possible.
Instead, the soil was mostly poor, and there were lots of stones – big-ish and small. Some people would have ordered a load of top soil, but not my dad.
Rather than take the easier route, he sectioned off the yard and, bit by bit and day by day, he sorted through the soil, putting the clay on the creek side (it was a little creek that didn’t always have water in it) and setting aside the stones and rocks for future projects.
You would see him out there on his hands and knees, digging with a hand trowel, picking through the dirt, and eventually planting grass seed in small sections, and watering it every other day. I don’t want to guess how many hours he put into that lawn, but before it was all planted in grass, many dozens of hours had gone by.
He was someone who took the long view of things. His main hobby was planting trees on two different properties my parents owned. Not for Christmas trees, but for lumber a generation or two after he was gone.
I can’t claim to have that kind of vision, but, well, I have developed a mild fascination with improving soil, removing stones from it, and finding another use for them. And, after our yard got kind-of torn up last summer, I’ll have plenty of opportunity to become one with the earth, so to speak.
It’s funny, but I had been writing this column for ten or more years before it hit me that my writing paralleled the monthly newsletter my dad wrote and distributed to a few hundred subscribers for many years. Now the sifting through soil parallel has come to light. I’m sure there are other qualities and predilections that I inherited from my father – both good and bad. From my Mother too.
What worries me is that someday my daughters will start taking on some of my qualities, like questionable humor (not inappropriate; just questionable as to whether it is funny).
By the time my dad passed away the yard looked really nice. The grass and trees were green and growing, and the flowers my mom tended provided some nice, colorful accents.
I guess we all have some kind of impact on the world around us, be it our yards, our homes, our communities, and especially our children. Sometimes the things and people we should spend the most time on don’t get enough attention, while unimportant things with little screens control our days.
Anyway, I look forward to a summer and fall of yard work, and of thinking about my dad from time to time as I hear my knees creak and snap when I struggle to stand up with a bucket full of sticks and stones.
This time of year the fairly pedestrian word “brackets” takes on a new meaning, and is heard a thousand times a day. The brackets referred to are the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament lists of who plays who, who the winner of that game plays, etc. Here is another kind of brackets: { }
Apparently people bet on the basketball brackets in many creative ways, sometimes picking winners, and sometimes having games assigned at random. For better or worse, people win or lose many thousands of dollars. My guess is that there are fewer happy people and more disappointed people after the tournament ends.
At this point we’ve winnowed down the field of 64 teams down to 16 teams, of which Wisconsin is one, I’m happy to note. This coming weekend they will play down to the final four remaining teams.
So, how do politics fit in to this discussion?
Well, there aren’t 64 potential presidential candidates at this point, but there are quite a few. The primary elections and caucuses winnow down the field to the final two. They compete in a different ways, though. They have debates where each candidate desperately tries to stick to their talking points. They give speeches where they parrot back what their advisors and pollsters think people want to hear. And, they, and groups who support them, spend a lot of money on ads finding fault with their opponents.
There probably are brackets of some sort. People who think a candidate is favored to win work hard to raise money for them. Sometimes they do that for philosophical reasons, and sometimes it’s simply to purchase good will in the event the candidate wins. Many big companies give money to numerous candidates, often from both parties
For those of us who enjoy college basketball and also follow politics, we sometimes wonder if there might be a better way. I may have stumbled on that better way. Rather than debates, in the traditional form, I think the candidates should have a one-on-one basketball tournament. Winners would move along the bracket in each party, with the winner from each party running on election day, and people voting as usual.
You may be saying, “but Peter; how is this better?” Well, for one thing, we’d be able to see which of the candidates plays fair, which ones are good or bad losers, which ones consistently point a finger of blame at the referees, the sun, the wind, or whatever, and which ones aren’t afraid to face someone bigger and stronger than they are.
I admit that it would be tough for the elderly candidates, and I’m not sure Hillary is a good shooter, but maybe the games could be handicapped, like in bowling and golf.
The big upside, frankly, would be less talking, fewer speeches, and maybe fewer ads. I consider that an up-side because as time has gone on, slogans, talking points, and attack ads have proven to be useless in the decision making process. The only useful information is the candidate’s actual past behavior.
It’s possible that I have a hidden agenda here. I am kind of tall…
In the summertime, we like to take a little drive in the evening – too often ending up at Frostie Freeze – but always in search of wildlife. We’ve seen owls, a fox, turkeys, cranes, egrets, and of course, deer.
We’ve taken to counting deer, with a typical ride exposing five or six of the animals. It depends on the season, of course. As summer winds down into fall, they become a little harder to find, though the setting sun lights them up pretty well as they graze on soybean remains.
Saturday night, just before sunset, we decided to take such a ride, and much to our surprise, we counted 64 deer in our slow, 25 minute ride. It was really something. Some were relatively near, some across a field, but there sure were a lot of them!
My guess is that they were really hungry after a long winter, and the crop residue, and the hint of some green things popping up, had them enthusiastically munching on whatever they could find, despite their tendency to be shy during daylight.
A very quick warm-up last week brought out more than just deer. People were looking at seeds and lawnmowers in the stores, and a few people dusted off their yard rakes.
Winter is long where we live. A quick warm-up in March may be followed by a cold and snowy April, but in the meantime we see our yards again, and we hear the birds again, and like the deer, we are very hungry for warmth and fresh air.
Maybe it is my advanced age, but as we got to work doing outdoor projects that really needed to be tended to, I realized I wasn’t quite ready to have my evenings in the recliner replaced with cleaning up and fixing up.
Part of my reluctance to get too caught up in the coming of spring has to do with the potential of winter coming back into the picture in a big way. The biggest snowfall I can remember happened in mid-April, so it wouldn’t be wise
But for now, we and the deer are happy to have the snow gone, and the warm south wind blowing in our faces. Maybe this really is spring, but if it isn’t here for real yet, these warm days sure fee good!
I sometimes look back on things that I’ve done and am very happy with the way things turned out. There are other times when I look back and can’t believe how bad the outcome was as a result of my actions.
I’m sure that’s part of being human, and until we have better robots, the folks who make our laws will always be human too, which is why mistakes are sometimes made.
Remember the “Stimulus” bill? We happened to be in D.C. and touring the Capitol building on the day the bill was printed out, and passed. You may remember that after unanimously voting to have two weeks for discussion on the bill after it was finished, the bill was released late at night, and a vote took place the next afternoon. While we were there, we heard objections to the early vote, but it took place anyway. Oh, and the bill was over 1,000 pages long, so only a robot could have read it in 12 hours.
Anyhoo, the stimulus bill was intended to get the economy going and put lots of people to work. Some people did get jobs, and some other people kept jobs they might not have.
The non-partisan Congressional Budget Office made a little report last week. In it they said that the impact of the bill was less than 0.2% added to our Gross Domestic Product. Unfortunately, the Stimulus increased the national debt by $836 billion, which was way more than advertised.
It’s easy to doze off when people talk about big numbers, but think of it this way: each of the 300,000 jobs created by the stimulus bill cost more than $2.8 million.
I was just thinking that maybe if the time would have been allowed, as agreed upon, to read the bill, and properly debate and evaluate it, perhaps things would have turned out differently, but then again, probably not.
The stimulus bill was intended to help things along during a rough time. Some people called for tax cuts and less regulation back then, to make it easier for companies to hire more employees, but after the financial crisis, that didn’t seem to many people to be a good plan. In retrospect, it might actually have been better than what we ended up doing.
I sometimes wonder if we wouldn’t have been better off if nothing had been done. Most legislators, and so far all presidents, are men, and men like to solve problems. But sometimes doing something doesn’t help, and might make things worse. Sometimes leaving people to their own devices works better than spending billions of dollars.
But, that’s just speculation on my part. If you’re one of the people who got a $2.8 million job, I’m happy for you. But, I’d bet you wish you had gotten the money instead of the job!
Making it Personal
I hate to be a downer, but do you realize that one year from now a woman could conceive and still have the full nine months to give birth before the next presidential election? Perhaps this is an odd way of saying that the political season, having already started, will go on for a really, really long time.
If that long campaign season resulted in more clarity or, God forbid, discussions that brought better answers to the difficult questions we face, that would be okay. Instead, the Bataan Death March of politics results in mortar attacks of accusation and slander – both within each party during the primary season, and between the parties up to the first Tuesday in November of 2016.
It seems that the minute the calendar flipped to 2015, things started to heat up. People are visiting Iowa in the winter, which makes no sense, other than for politics. Huge amounts of money are being raised to intimidate less well-connected potential candidates.
And, apparently the word has gone out to start making deleterious comments about politicians on Facebook. There are always the Facebook pages like moveon.org and The Federalist Papers.com and many others that people read because the sites have a political point of view. But, now that the season has started, Facebook “friends” have started making snarky remarks about possible candidates.
There was a fellow named Saul Alinsky who wrote a book called “Rules for Radicals,” and while any person of any persuasion could use these ideas to further their causes, President Obama and Secretary Clinton have both shown a special interest in Mr. Alinsky.
There are a couple of “rules” in the book that I find discouraging, because they don’t help advance the cause of discussion, and because they are intended to hurt people’s reputations.
* RULE 5: “Ridicule is man’s most potent weapon.” There is no defense. It’s irrational. It’s infuriating. It also works as a key pressure point to force the enemy into concessions.
* RULE 12: Pick the target, freeze it, personalize it, and polarize it.” Cut off the support network and isolate the target from sympathy. Go after people and not institutions; people hurt faster than institutions.
Think back to people in the political world who have been ridiculed unmercifully over the years, only for us to find after the fact that they were actually solid people. As this political season moves forward, I encourage you to be listening for disrespect and ridicule of people – not for their ideas, but for the people themselves.
Buckle-up, and get ready for the onslaught of this next campaign season. And, if you dare, when somebody says something disrespectful about a candidate, don’t react. Maybe they’ll get the point.
Telling the truth, it is said, is the best approach, because if you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember what it is you said. I would like to say that I am always 100% truthful, but that in itself would be a lie. It is human nature to use fabrications to avoid responsibility for things, or to make ourselves seem more interesting than we are.
NBC News Anchor Brian Williams has said some things in the past that don’t seem to have been entirely true. His stories were embellished in some cases and fabricated in others. He isn’t the first public person to do so, and he’s surely not the last.
I have a friend who, while serving in Viet Nam at a post well out of harm’s way, heard gunfire when afternoon, and saw a reporter and cameraman at the edge of a path, with soldiers firing into the grass at nothing. That reporter, as the story goes, was Dan Rather.
Secretary Clinton was taken to task about a helicopter landing story she remembered incorrectly. And, Al Gore invented the Internet. So, I guess there is a storyteller in all of us waiting to get out.
The problem with news people and elected officials making things up is that we have an informal contract with them that says they will be honest with us and that we will be able to trust what they say.
Did Brian Williams rescue a puppy? I don’t care. Were his reports from Katrina accurate, or contrived? Well, I guess I do care about that. Making news isn’t part of a reporter’s job. Making themselves look heroic is one step away from painting someone else to be uncaring.
When all is said and done, if we strip down to who we are as people, without jobs or homes or status, our honesty, or lack of it, is who we are.
I think there is a lot of lying going on in Washington and elsewhere these days. A consultant on healthcare has told numerous audiences that they lied about the Affordable Care Act because if they had told the truth it wouldn’t have been approved. That’s maybe a worse like than Brian Williams told, except I’m not sure Brian reported on those statements, which would be covering up someone else’s lie.
Brian Williams seems like a nice guy. It seems like he wanted to be seen as an even nicer, braver, more compassionate guy, so perhaps he told some stories. Is that really such a big deal?
Sadly, it probably isn’t, because so many people lie so freely and without shame that a person telling the truth must immediately be doubted, or prove that his truth is genuine.
To paraphrase the statement our mothers all said to us, if you can’t say something truthful, it’s best not to say anything at all.
Well, another Super Bowl has come and gone. Two weeks of talking in great detail about what might happen culminated in what really did happen, and a fist fight. One play “lost the game” for the Seahawks, or so people say. I don’t really buy it.
A few plays before the Seahawks lost the ball, a receiver made a ridiculous catch, juggling the ball, and pulling it in as he lay on his back. If that unlikely play hadn’t happened, the final Seahawks play wouldn’t have even happened.
Throughout the game both teams made good plays, but missed some opportunities. That’s the nature of sports and of humans. One could just as easily say that a player who dropped a pass on the 5th play of the game, or a safety who missed a tackle in the second quarter “lost the game” for the Seahawks. We just tend to focus on what happened most recently.
That applies to other areas of life as well. A Saturday spent being a perfect husband can hit a romantic brick wall with an unappreciated remark at 8pm. Likewise, a stellar year at work can be forgotten at an annual review if something boneheaded was done the previous week.
It’s funny to watch political popularity and job approval ratings go up and down, when the good or bad that person may have done could have occurred last year. But, if last week they said something stupid, or especially brilliant, suddenly their job approval changes.
In religion the idea of the afterlife is very appealing, and I think all religions have something like it. Some believe that a badly-lived life will be forgiven if redemption is sought at the end. That’s the ultimate “winning the game.” Some believe that we’re judged on the totality of our lives, and, despite our gross imperfections, our real effort to be good people.
I don’t know anybody who knows for sure what the reality is to all that, or if it is all or partly mythical. I do know that, in my mind, living a good life is more important than calling the right play or catching a pass or making sure your team’s balls are properly inflated.
Sports provides two opposite benefits: we can escape from our lives and live vicariously through our heroes, but we can also see how those teams and individuals deal with challenges, disappointments, tragedies, and successes as a microcosm of what life sometimes hands us. I wonder if Saint Peter does our post-game interviews…
I was thinking about beer last night. Not drinking it; thinking about it. I was thinking about how things change and evolve, sometimes without us even noticing.
When I was a young kid, Miller High Life beer was celebrated in their ads as the “Champagne of Bottled Beers.” Very elegant, apparently. That was the end of an era when most good-sized Wisconsin towns had their own breweries. Oshkosh, where I grew up, still had two: Chief Oshkosh and People’s beer.
At that time, beer aficionados preferred the national brands like Budweiser and Miller. Pabst and Blatz both sounded like the sound the old pop-top cans made when you opened them.
Then came the bottled imports like Heineken, and fake imports like Loenbrau (“Tonight, let it be Loenbrau”) to appeal to the upper crusts.
Eventually Miller Lite misspelled its way into brewing history, followed by hundreds of lites, draft brewed, kreusened, cold-filtered, malt liquor, and any possible manifestation of the brewing process. President Carter’s brother Billy even had his own beer brand.
Then, among certain circles, obscure imports became the fashion. Guinness, Harp, Bass, Molson, St. Pauli Girl, Fosters, and many others were stocked in the trendy places. Soon Corona from Mexico joined them.
But, the big change happened when micro-breweries came along. First in a few big cities, and eventually spread across the landscape are restaurants that brew their own beers. Are they good? It doesn’t matter! It’s just a cool thing that they are made right in the building where you’re eating, and that you’re special for being there.
Along with that, the home brewing crowd started to grow. Their idea is to take a light and refreshing beer like Coors, and do the opposite. Lots of flavor. Chunks of hops. Hard to drink.
But wait! A few of the Wisconsin local breweries that survived started to become fashionable. Point beer out of Steven’s Point has a following, and Leinenkugel, having been bought by Miller, became a national brand. The New Glarus Brewing Company popped up in 1993, and has a very strong following for its brews, like Spotted Cow and Totally Naked, but only sells their beer in Wisconsin. Other states have breweries like that as well.
So, the request to “gimmie a beer” now has about a thousand possible responses. I don’t buy a lot of beer, but I feel like a clod if I order a Budweiser, even though I find it to be pretty good. If I end up at a brew pub I ask the waitress for the beer with the least flavor. Yes, I get funny looks.
Beer has an important place (some would say too important) in Wisconsin culture, and it’s nice that the old brewing traditions continue on. I guess it’s good for what ales us.
It’s my own little New Year’s tradition to write about people who didn’t make it to the new year. There are plenty of articles and news features about those who have passed, but somehow that doesn’t stop me from writing mine. I think it must be therapeutic. This week I’m focusing on the comedians who left us.
Robin Williams is at the top of most lists of comedians, and comedians who died last year. He was brilliant and troubled in equal measures. He could be manic and hilarious, or, in his dramatic roles, intensely sensitive. It’s odd, but his money fears caused him to work in a lot of recently made movies that have coincidentally been released since he died. Like all modern era performers, he is gone, but his work is not.
Mike Nichols was a German-born comedian whose comedy days came a little before my time, but the recorded bits he did with Elaine May were very creative and funny. He was mostly known as an actor and film director. “The Graduate” was just one of many notable films he made.
Joan Rivers seems to have been on TV forever. One of a few breakthrough female comedians, she is unfortunately most known for plastic surgery, sniping at stars on the red carpet, and for making Johnny Carson angry. But, if you listen or watch her performances, she was really funny.
Sid Caesar probably had a lot in common with Robin Williams, both in comedic genius and self-destructive tendencies. He was a top star in early television, hosting “Your Show of Shows” which was viewed by 60 million people each week. I’d guess that was the number of people with televisions in the early 50’s.
David Brenner came from Philadelphia, and was among the earlier “observational” comics, talking about the humor in real life. John Pinnette was very heavy, and very funny. He lost a lot of weight, and he was still very funny. But, his ill health caught up with him last year. If you can, go to www.youtube.com and search for his clips. His routine about a family outing to a water park is guaranteed to make you laugh.
Jan Hooks was on Saturday Night Live, where she did funny skits, and a few very dramatic skits as well. She was really something. She later appeared on “Third Rock From The Sun” as the odd and sexy downstairs neighbor.
Tim Wilson was a red-neck comic and musician. He also really well educated, making him both earthy and erudite. He would have hated being described that way.
Comedy is a funny business. Smokey Robinson wrote and sang about “The Tears of a Clown,” and there seems to be a lot of truth in that. Comedians may not be any odder than other performers, but the contrast between their on-stage personas and their real lives is sometimes pretty stark.
More next week on folks we lost last year.
The Departed Pas Deus
This week I’ll say goodbye to singers we lost last year. Well, not “lost,” but you know what I mean. Some are familiar to everyone, and some just to the oldsters or youngsters or hipsters out there.
Singer Joe Cocker spent much of his career as a raging alcoholic who still managed to get through a blistering performance each night, emptying a whiskey bottle along the way. He was a great, bluesy rocker. His least characteristic song, “You Are So Beautiful” was his biggest hit, along with his duet with Jennifer Warnes (“Up Where We Belong”).
Bobby Keys wasn’t famous, but in a way he was. He played saxophone for some folks you may have heard of: The Rolling Stones, B.B. King, the aforementioned Joe Cocker, John Lennon, Barbara Streisand, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Carley Simon.
Jimmy Ruffin sang “What Becomes of the Broken Hearted” and other Motown hits. Big Bank Hank was a rapper who did not record for Motown.
Jack Bruce was the bass player for Eric Clapton’s band, Cream. Those of us of a certain age still like some of their music. Also of that era, and yet not, Paul Revere and the Raiders were a great rock and roll band, fronted by keyboardist Paul Revere Dick. They dressed in revolutionary era costumes, and always had fun. Everything seems so deadly serious now, doesn’t it?
Tommy Ramone was a hall of fame member of The Ramones. Johnny Winters was one of two great blues players in his family, along with Edgar. They were/are both albino, which might come up in a trivia game sometime.
Bobby Womack was another hall of famer who passed away, along with Phil Everly of the Everly Brothers. Jesse Winchester wrote hits for others, like Elvis Costello, Patti Paige, and Jimmy Buffet.
There are a number of musicians who I either never heard of or cared much about who died. The winner in this category is Jason McCash, bass player for the “Doom Metal” band called “The Gates of Slumber.” He died at 38. He was closer to the gates than he thought.
Franny Beecher? He was a guitarist for Bill Haley and the Comets, the days before the music died. Bob Casale played with the band Devo throughout their time together. Fergie Fredriksen was a singer for the band Toto.
Pete Seeger was an iconic folk musician/political activist for five decades.
As I said, a number of other fine musicians left us last year, and I decided to pick and choose from the list. No disrespect is meant for those I excluded.
Musicians are a funny bunch. For many the lifestyle almost assures a shorter than average life, but the need to create and perform and hear the applause seems to trump that sad fact.
The Departed, Pas Trois
Time to talk about actors and other creative artists who died in 2014.
James Garner seemed like a really nice guy. He was an Oklahoma kid who made it big after serving in the military and returning with no prospects. He was Maverick and Jim Rockford. His corniest role (The Notebook) may have been his best.
Mickey Rooney and Shirley Temple were both child stars. He set the bar high for boyish shenanigans, and she for sweetness. She didn’t act beyond her youth, and eventually became a diplomat.
Lauren Bacall’s death was one of those that shocked me, frankly, because I didn’t know she was still alive. There’s something to be said about fading away graciously.
Eli Wallach was in “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly,” which is a great movie title. He was a very prolific actor, and was in films into his 90’s.
Harold Ramis was a writer, actor, director… you name it. Speaking of naming it, “Ghostbusters,” “Caddyshack,” “Groundhog’s Day,” and many more. He passed away at 70.
Phillip Seymour Hoffman was a gifted actor, and, apparently, a troubled man, dying of an accidental drug overdose. Alcohol was the cause of death for Elizebeth Pena, who acted in “La Bamba,” “Down and Out in Beverly Hills,” Jacob’s Ladder,” and others. Peaches Geldof, model and actor, and daughter of Rocker Bob Geldof, overdosed on heroin. Misty Upham was a young Native American actress who fell off a cliff.
Maya Angelou served as Poet Laureate of the United States, in addition to being an award winning author, focusing on the black experience. She was also an actress, producer and director.
Casey Kasem made a REALLY long distance dedication in 2014. It got ugly when his wife and children began to fight over his body, which temporarily went missing.
Gilligan’s friend The Professor (Russell Johnson) made it off the island, and Ann B. Davis finally got out of the Brady’s house. Bob Hoskins made it out of Tune Town, where he pursued Roger Rabbit. And the great Ruby Dee also left us.
That’s my famous person’s list for 2014. Perhaps someone dear to you, or a big influence on your life lost theirs in 2014. They were surely more important to you than any celebrity.
I think we can feel sad about the loss of famous people in a way that is much more emotionally safe than when we lose people we care for, or even people we might smile at when we would run into them at the store. Actors act out our fears and our fantasies while we safely watch, and finally they experience their ends of life in front of us, but at a safe distance.
Here’s hoping that you don’t lose anyone who is special to you in 2015!
I hear we’re having Thanksgiving next week. That’s nice. One day to be thankful for a few minutes between football and gluttony… and then football again.
I’m being overly cynical. I think a lot of people are thankful every day, realizing what a gift life is, and for those with families and homes and jobs… well, there is very much for which to give thanks.
A lot of the time the thanks we feel is hiding back in our minds. When we see someone who is struggling, or see an article about many of the world hotspots where innocent people fear for their lives – or lose their lives, or their families.
We don’t even need to look that far. A neighbor having troubles reminds us at some level that our situation is much better, and that generates a vague sense of gratitude. We would never wish trouble on them, and in fact, sometimes we feel like we should take the trouble from them out of fairness.
I think it’s important to say out loud to someone how grateful we are with what we have in life. Some people do that in prayer, while others express their thanks sincerely. I think it’s important that we speak about our good fortune to our family members so they too can think about how fortunate they are. It’s too easy to focus on the things that are far from perfect, and complain about them. Easy and reasonable, really.
But to save up many thanks for much good fortune is a hedge against bad things that happen, because they remind us that despite a current bad time, there has been much to be thankful for, and probably will be again.
Thanksgiving Day around our country probably has many expressions of gratitude in many homes. Thousands of people help the homeless and home bound on that day as a means of giving thanks in a tangible way.
The holiday season is very commercialized, but at the same time it provides us with sufficient opportunities to contemplate, give thanks, and consider what we might better do to show that thanks on behalf of people who are less fortunate.
One simple thought: at your Thanksgiving gathering pass a Pilgrim’s hat and take up a cash collection for the food pantry. Even a few dollars from dozens of families would make a difference.
Or, just enjoy your family, and make good memories for which everyone will be greatly grateful years from now.
The morning discussion group is an interesting phenomenon. It happens in bakeries and McDonald’s, and cafes in small towns and big cities all over the country. Thousands of conversations take place at a leisurely pace each morning among people who have stories to tell and issues to discuss.
The participants are mostly retired folks, though some younger people sometimes participate when time allows. The discussion groups tend to be segregated by gender, with men gathering around a table, and women around another. Sometimes, the men and women are in two different stores all together.
Because I travel alone quite a bit, and sometimes have time to kill between appointments, I find myself within earshot of these morning discussion groups from time to time. Each group has its own dynamic. In some cases, it seems that everybody chimes in with their stories or their thoughts, while other times there seems to be a real leader of the group, mostly due to having the loudest voice. I see that most in the men’s groups.
In the women’s groups there seem to be a lot of talk about family, weather, health conditions, and home repairs. Men talk about family too, but in different ways. They talk about the weather in terms of how they’re prepared to deal with it. They talk about health as an annoyance, mostly.
At McDonald’s, the discussion groupers mostly order a “senior coffee.” That makes me think about the changing demographics of our country, and a potential hyperactive super hero: “Senor Coffee!”
Most morning discussion groups amble in after the busy breakfast time, which means management doesn’t much worry about the amount of space they take up. And they do order more than coffee sometimes.
I guess people who have always worked and had families have always had somebody to talk with each day. As the kids grow up and leave the house (and come back and leave again), and as spouses move on or pass on, it makes sense that a person would crave a social group. Bars provide a place for that kind of conversation too, but not everybody is comfortable with the tavern ambience.
I have to say that I’ve been sharing stories of when I was young since… well, since I was young. It’s important to find new groups of people if a person is going to keep telling the same stories. My family is very kind not to point out how many times they’ve heard each of my stories – or worse, jokes.
As my memory fades a bit from age, maybe a group of older people would be a perfect place to tell my stories. I won’t remember I’ve already told them, and perhaps they won’t remember that they’ve heard them already.
We all need to spend time with people who share life experiences with us, and not as in telling us their stories, but as in living lives at the same general time we did, with similar experiences and joys and sorrows, and looking forward together to see what’s next.
Oh, one more thing: the morning discussion groups all over the country actually solve all the world’s problems each morning, so it wouldn’t be a bad idea to listen in, if you can.
Mike Roe has become famous for his willingness to experience the dirtiest jobs in the world, and be filmed while doing them. Thank goodness I’ve never been in the places he’s been, but of course, the minute he leaves, the regular workers keep doing what they were doing, whether it’s cleaning out a sewer line or artificially inseminating a hippo.
Dirty jobs aren’t always the hardest jobs. In fact, some really hard jobs aren’t physically challenging at all. Here’s an example: every network has a sideline reporter for football games, and most of them are women. Their presence shows how open to diversity the NFL and NCAA are, I guess, but the poor women are put in an impossible position.
They interview coaches as they leave the field at halftime, while they are either angry or really wanting to get with their team. Typical question: “Coach, your team had three interceptions: what are you going to do to stop that in the second half?” The coach then answers, “Not through the ball to their guys.” He runs off to the locker room, and she looks dumb, which she isn’t.
Presidential press secretary is another tough job. All presidents have ups and downs, but during the downs, the press secretary is put in the position of explaining things that are inexplicable, putting a good spin on things that are horrible, and pretending to be “open,” while sharing almost no actual information. And sometimes, perish the thought, flat-out lying.
Also, imagine being the airline pilot who must tell the passengers the flight must be cancelled, due to circumstances he or she can’t control. And, of course, oncologists, with the ultimate bad news to deliver must grow weary.
And, I guess it’s hard to be a husband or a wife sometimes. Not at my house, of course, but, well, I’ve heard stories…
There are thousands of professions and relationships that can be very difficult from time to time. EMT’s, police, firefighters and military are right up there, but so are the kind souls who take care of severely disabled children and adults. And, spouses who take care of each other to the end.
Some people do difficult jobs to pay their dues on the way to a better job. Some people do tough jobs because they know that someone needs to. And some people do hard jobs out of love or a sense of duty.
It’s funny, but I would think being a hospice nurse would be a really difficult job, but from what I’ve seen, they sure don’t act like it.
Maybe the secret is that many of these hard jobs bring the doer the satisfaction of knowing they’re up to the task. Crawling under houses to catch snakes, or dealing with a classroom full of behavior problems masquerading as children of your neighbors – the difference being that you are allowed to grab the snake by the throat – are jobs most people couldn’t do.
Thanks to the people who do the hard jobs, and the dirty jobs, and the seemingly thankless jobs. I hope they know they’re appreciated.
Lately I’ve been thinking about our means of determining what people should be paid, and what things should cost. Mostly, the issue is how much top executives are paid, and how little, comparatively speaking, the lowest level employees make.
The disparity between the top earners and the bottom earners has never been greater, it is said, though I would think that the royalty and nobility of Europe would give today’s CEOs a run for their money, so to speak.
Many call for increasing the minimum wage and/or limiting how much the highly paid folks are allowed to make. Here’s my question about all that: who gets to decide how much is not enough, and how much is too much?
Adam Smith, the father of free enterprise economics, suggested that the invisible hand of supply and demand would answer such questions better than other mechanisms. People would be paid equal to their market value, and items would sell for what they were worth.
Our country largely follows Smith’s model, and we’ve done quite well. Our poor people, on average, have a better lifestyle than the typical citizens of many countries. And, our rich people are really, really rich. Some would say they are too rich. But, what’s a fair way to determine that?
For example, imagine someone making $15 million per year. If that person is a CEO, we say that it is way too much, even if she or he is responsible for managing an enormous enterprise with thousands of employees and billions of dollars in assets. If the person is a professional athlete, however, we are less likely to question that pay scale, because it’s clear that the athlete’s value is equal to what a team is willing to pay. But, isn’t that also the case for that CEO? His or her value is determined by what the company thinks it is, and by what other companies might offer to pay.
Likewise, the fellow who cleans the team’s locker room could be easily replaced, having no special athletic skills, so he makes a much, much lower wage.
Telling a company how much they have to pay for an employee goes against the logic of paying someone according to the value they bring to their job. And, for some workers, a higher minimum wage might make their cost to the company greater than their value, meaning they will be let go.
Someone made a point about minimum wage by saying we should raise it to $100 per hour, since that would be more fair than $10 per hour. That’s an example of showing that something is illogical by taking the idea to an extreme.
Limiting how much someone can make has more complex implications, but telling a company how much they can pay makes as much sense as telling them how much they must charge for their product, or even what product they should make.
Life is inherently unfair, and it is very laudable for us to help people move up economically, through extra education, internships, and incentives for hard work. But, I’m uncomfortable having the government tell me how much I can or must pay, or be paid. I might just try out for the Packers some day.
The things going on in the Middle East these days are of great concern to the people who live in that region – particularly people who are not of the Muslim faith, or the particular sect of Islam that the people with the most guns happen to have in that region on that day.
It is comforting to know that the only ones of us who will be impacted by those goings-on are people in the military. And, perhaps there will be some changes in gas prices and such.
We may be missing something. The people who are in charge of ISIS and Al Qaeda and their companion Islamic extremist organizations have a long-range plan that includes, well, everyone. They would like you and me to be Muslims, and for all of us to be governed under Sharia law in a world-wide Caliphate – an Islamic government.
That seems pretty far-fetched, of course. That’s probably what the Europeans thought during the surge of the Ottoman Empire in the 16th and 17th centuries. Parts of Europe, up to Constantinople, were swallowed up by those Muslims, who originated in Turkey.
Now, you might say that Christians did their share of empire building too, what with the Crusades and all, and that can’t be denied. And, the Spanish Inquisition was pretty extremist too. Just as all Christians then and now aren’t extreme, not all Muslims then and now are bent on converting everyone and killing those who won’t convert.
A big problem now is that of the 35,000 or so ISIS soldiers, many have US or European passports, meaning they can travel there and here with relative ease. And, there are numerous reports of ISIS members crossing the Mexican border. An investigative journalist even dressed up as an ISIS soldier and crossed the Canadian border into the US.
So, when the ISIS people make threats against the United States, they aren’t just flapping their lips. September 11th having just passed, I think we need to remember that those folks really do hate us.
I’m not saying you need to lock your doors at night, though that’s good advice anyway, or hide the Bibles. I am saying that just because something is far away doesn’t mean it doesn’t have anything to do with me and you. There are some great books out on the history of conflict in the Middle East, and it might pay to look them up. It has proven to be a big mistake to assume something horrible could never happen here.
I’ll admit to having a very low pain threshold when it comes to trendy words. I still haven’t gotten over the term “warm fuzzies” from the 1970’s. I equally dislike the term “selfies,” both because of how the word sounds, and the narcissistic nature of what it means.
So, knowing now that I am a cranky old guy who is quick to respond to such things, let me add one to the list: “Locally sourced.”
First, I’d much rather hear that something is “from around here,” or “from this area.” “Locally sourced” sounds like something somebody from UW Extension would say (FYI: I am a former employee of UW Extension) to demonstrate having kept up with the latest research.
Part of my discomfort with the term is that locally sourced things are held up as morally superior to non-locally sourced items. I understand that there are advantages to buying things from nearby, especially when it comes to fresh foods, because they’re likely to be fresher. That being said, we don’t hesitate to eat Alaskan salmon or New England clams or Florida citrus, so non-local things can be okay, right?
Here’s an example of how locally sourced food may, or may not be best:
Let’s say you like Brussel’s sprouts. Right away you’re on thin ice as far as I’m concerned. Now let’s say there’s a grower 40 miles from you, and another grower in Washington State. Well, what if the grower near you drives his sprouts in an old Chevy pick-up to a farm market. Or maybe 20 old Chevys to 20 farm markets. That’s a lot of miles in a lot of trucks getting lousy gas mileage and polluting the air.
Also, let’s say the person 40 miles away wasn’t quite careful enough with pesticides or with organic fertilizer (if you know what I mean). Those Brussel’s sprouts might not be the best for you.
But, it’s possible that our friend out near Yakima is very particular with pesticides and fertilizers, and is one mile from the train line that runs to the Midwest. Trains use very little fuel per ton shipped.
Somebody smarter than I am could do the math, and I honestly don’t know which grower would turn out to be the most fuel efficient, but my point is that being “locally sourced” has advantages, but it isn’t the only factor to consider.
I like the idea of supporting friends and neighbors. I like buying things from local artists, local farmers, and local merchants – even though what they sell is often from Asia.
I currently own two pairs of shoes that were made in America, and that isn’t easy to do. They aren’t made a few miles from me, so they aren’t “locally sourced,” but there’s no ocean between here and there.
So, to summarize, I’ll continue to buy things from around here, but I won’t feel guilty for buying things that aren’t. I also won’t ever get “warm fuzzies.”
There are at least two sides in every argument, and sometimes there is truth to be had from various positions. Among those issues where people of good will disagree is the proposition that only people with proper identification should be allowed to vote.
On the one side are people who would like to reduce voter fraud by insisting that people voting in a given precinct actually live there, and meet the qualifications to vote, including U.S. citizenship.
On the other side are people who fear voter suppression if potential voters are required to jump through hoops in order to vote.
Both positions have some merit, I’d say. Where it gets interesting is in the assumption or accusation that the pro-ID requirement people are actively trying to keep certain people from voting, and the assumption or accusation that the no-ID people want non-entitled voters to vote – perhaps numerous times.
Certainly there have been many cases of citizens being prevented from voting – mostly, I think, in the South many years ago, where poll taxes were charged, and other local requirements arose to keep black people from voting. More recently, Black Panther members in military-like garb blocked the entrance to a polling place in Philadelphia, menacing potential white voters in a recent election.
And, sadly, voter fraud isn’t the exclusive property of our neighbors in Illinois. Significant incidents have occurred – largely in Southeastern Wisconsin – over the past 15 years, including puncturing tires of Republican “get out the vote” vans, and eyewitness accounts of school buses full of “voters” from elsewhere visiting several polling places on the same day.
It’s my view that everyone who is entitled to vote should be able to do so – once. The Wisconsin law that the Supreme Court nixed last week intended to do that, I think. I hope another iteration of that law will be offered that answers the concerns of The Supremes.
It seems to me that every non-citizen (of the State or the Nation) who votes illegally cancels-out the vote of someone for whom voting is permitted. It would be wrong for, say, an elderly person to go to the trouble of requesting an absentee ballot, only to have her vote cancelled out by someone who shouldn’t have been able to vote.
The Wisconsin law that was ruled against let anyone without a driver’s license vote via absentee ballot – either by mail or at their village, town, or city office. State ID cards were also available, of course, but getting one was seen by some as too much of a hardship.
Years ago – and more recently in most states – people needed to register in person to vote weeks ahead of an election. Since the 1970’s, at least, Wisconsin was a leader in same-day registrations, and most states have followed our lead.
I’m glad we don’t restrict eligible voters from exercising their right to vote. I hope we can find a constitutionally acceptable policy that protects the sanctity of that right by assuring only those who are qualified to vote are allowed to.
Back in 1977 I made a phone call. It was to a college friend. He had gotten a job as a news anchor in Eau Claire, I think. I was doing some part-time work at a radio station in Oshkosh, and working weekdays in a factory. I had just gotten married, but hadn’t really launched my career yet.
My air shift went until midnight, so around 10:45, during a long record, I called the station where my friend worked, knowing he would be off the air by then.
When he answered the phone I said I’d called to let him know I’d gotten married and such. His response was a rather snippy, “why did you think I would care?”
I took the hint, said goodbye, and shortened my Christmas card list by one. I actually didn’t have a Christmas card list, but you get my point. It stung a bit, and I didn’t understand his reaction, but I reasoned that people move on, and that was that.
Fast forward thirty-seven and a half years, and in the mail I find a letter from this fellow. He apologized for the way in which he responded to me back in the day, and said some kind things about me, and how I had influenced his life.
To say I was surprised would be a major understatement. I was very pleased, however, that he had taken the opportunity to get it off his chest. It was a really courageous thing to do, and I respect him a lot for it. I told him that when I wrote back.
A few years ago I wrote about a woman who had called me on the Jewish “Day of Atonement” to apologize for something she had said or done. I had hardly recalled the incident, but thanked her very much for reaching out to say she was sorry. That call surprised me too, partly because I wasn’t aware she was Jewish.
I say “I’m sorry” a lot, but mostly for little things. There are a few people I’ve wronged in a significant way over the decades, I’m sure, and if I can dredge up those memories – buried in some sad place in my brain – I’d like to think I’d reach out to those people to apologize.
It is said that there are two kinds of sorry: one is unsolicited, and the other is being sorry for getting caught. That’s the one we see most in the news from politicians and other public figures.
Of course the best way to avoid making apologies is to not do anything wrong to anyone, but unfortunately most of us are humans, and by definition we aren’t perfect. It’s good to remember that when someone hurts us or does something thoughtless.
When bad things like that happen, we have the opportunity to forgive the offending party and move on with our lives. When those people take the time and courage to apologize, perhaps they can start the harder task of forgiving themselves.
I’m not always that happy about change happening, but it would be foolish to think it can be stopped. Even Amish people ride in cars, though they still won’t drive them. At least not yet. For better or worse, change happens constantly, and – ironically — that will never change.
When things change, sometimes the words of the past remain, or evolve into new meanings. Automobiles are replete with such examples. Unwieldy old cars required the driver to use gloves to turn the starting crank and such, so the little box in our cars is called the “glove compartment.” Anybody have gloves in yours?
The “trunk” is named after the location where an actual trunk would be lashed to a vehicle. And, the bottom of a car is called the “under-carriage.” I would hardly refer to my car as being a carriage.
The kitchen is another place for older language. My parents sometimes called our refrigerator an “icebox,” because when they were young, the iceman came(th) and they put ice in the box where the food was. A “stove” is really a “range,” but the word stove comes from the wooden cook stove that both warmed the kitchen and cooked the food. The word “pantry” originally meant where the bread is kept, not the place we keep our pants. A lot of older people call “aluminum foil” “tin foil,” which preceded the modern aluminum product before World War II.
In communications, things have really changed. The idea of “dialing a phone” goes back to the rotary dial, which has all but disappeared. Even “touching” the numbers isn’t required the way it was on a “Touch-tone” phone if you use voice commands. And, if you were to ask someone to define a “phone” now, the function of speaking with someone would probably not be in the top five functions they use, behind texting, looking at Facebook and Twitter, taking pictures, and listening to music.
Also, the term “hang-up” comes from physically hanging the telephone receiver on the phone’s cradle. These days we should say “disconnect.”
Sending a “fax” is now almost obsolete, along with the word, which is short for sending a telephone facsimile. “Typing” something implies a typewriter is involved, but few of them are still in use. Only multi-part government forms calling for carbon copies require typewriters. Speaking of keyboards, you can tell someone’s age if they use the term “return” for the key that says “enter” on computer keyboards.
I don’t pretend that I’ve kept up with all the changes, and I also confess that I use a lot of words that don’t make any sense any more. I’ll hang-up the phone and type for the rest of my life, no matter what you want to call it.
The internet, and Facebook in particular, have both added and taken away from our lives. People without access to computers don’t know what they’re missing, which I mean in both a good and bad way.
One thing Facebook provides plenty of is interesting sayings to ponder. Some are quotes from famous people, some are quotes attributed to famous people, but are things they never actually said, and some are just interesting quotes from nobody in particular.
I’d like to share a few with you today, if you don’t mind.
*”I don’t judge people based on race, color, or religion, sexuality of gender. I judge them on whether or not they are a jerk” (not the actual word, but you get my drift).
* “When someone asks me what I did over the weekend I just squint and ask, ‘What did you hear?’”
*I have never known why it is greed to want to keep the money you have earned, but not greed to want to take someone else’s money.” -Thomas Sowell
*”A perfect marriage is just two imperfect people who refuse to give up on each other.”
*”Always be yourself. Unless you can be a pirate. Then be a pirate.”
*”I don’t think its age that makes us forgetful. I think there’s just too much stupid stuff (not the actual word used) to remember.”
*“All you need is love. And a tiara. And maybe a cookie.”
*We live in an era of smart phones and stupid people.”
*A headline: “’We hate math’ say four in ten Americans – a majority.”
*”Irony. The opposite of Wrinkly.”
*”There are two ways to be fooled. One is to believe what isn’t true, and the other is to refuse to accept what is true.” – Soren Kierkegaard
*Life is not about how much money you have. It’s about quotes and stuff that tell you what life is really all about. And here is a picture of a cat.”
So, if you can’t find any words to live by, or words to avoid living by, from all of these quotes, then I’d suggest you start writing your own!
It probably won’t come as a shock that I haven’t spent much time in ladies’ rooms, by which I mean rooms dedicated to women’s restroom needs. About the only time I enter those rooms is when a restaurant gets clever with their bathroom names, and instead of men’s and women’s rooms they have cowboys and (which I can figure out) or something more obtuse like bass and trout. I usually see myself as a bass, but sometimes I feel a little trouty.
I mention this because men’s rooms – especially on college campuses and in bus stations – often have a lot of graffiti. Much of it can’t be repeated, but some is pretty funny. Collections of such humor have been published, believe it or not. You might want to look one up for reading in the… well, wherever you want to read it.
While in Washington, D. C. this summer, we visited a museum called the Newseum, which has exhibits about the news media and history and how they’ve intertwined. They have bathrooms there, fortunately, and at least in the men’s room I sought out, they have a different kind of graffiti. Selected wall tiles have quotes from ill-conceived headlines from newspapers and magazines. I took pictures of them all, and I would like to share them with you. Some are obviously funny, and others might take a while to get. One is a typo, and the last one isn’t a headline, but comes from the body of a news story:
“ISU revokes doctorate in plagiarism”
“Candlelight ceremony unties couple”
“Panda lectures this week at National Zoo”
“Canadian seals deal with creditors”
“Trial ends in mercy killing”
“Bill to halt illness passes”
“Actor sent to jail for not finishing sentence”
“Blind woman forced by cop to clean up after her guide dog accepts settlement”
“Asteroid nearly misses earth”
“Genetically modified crops talk of meeting”
“Woman found dead in trunk kept to herself, neighbors say”
“For some context, consider these numbers from the same year, as reported by the Cleveland Plain Dealer: 91 percent of clergy were men, 92 percent of engineers were men, and 90 percent of men were dentists.”
So that was the Newseum’s men’s room graffiti. I now regret that I didn’t visit the other men’s rooms, not to mention the women’s rooms. Maybe next time.
By the way, I should probably mention that the rest of the museum was also entertaining –not just the bathroom walls.
If you want to take a vacation where there aren’t a lot of people to get in your way, I suggest the Western part of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. The Porcupine Mountains are beautiful, Lake Superior is, well, superior, and if you like rock hunting, they have them there.
A number of times this past few weeks I’ve reminded myself to remember these days when January and February roll around. One of the big differences is that these days our glasses fog up when we step outside, while in the winter they fog up when we come in.
We are very excited to know that a ground hog, or a wood chuck, or perhaps some ground chuck, has taken up residence under our barn floor. Not excited in a good way, of course, but it is more evidence that rural life has its challenges. A snake in a bedroom, groundhogs under the floor, bats flying around upstairs, and mice to entertain the cats. Granted, these things have happened over three decades, but still…
Automated bathroom fixtures are all well and good, until you find yourself holding your hands under a faucet that turns out not to be automated. That’s a companion embarrassment to trying to “click” open one’s front door with the car key fob.
Volcanoes in Iceland, earthquakes in Napa, and snow in Montana. Otherwise, everything seems about normal, by which I mean no giant apes or lizards have wandered into Manhattan lately.
A network news reporter mentioned that Burger King will be moving their headquarters “overseas” to Canada. Somehow that doesn’t seem quite right, but geography isn’t my strong suit.
One of the worst things about getting older is that it’s impossible to justify shopping for school supplies and new gym shoes in the fall. However, not sitting through math class is an advantage.
Is the opposite of a protractor a contractor? That’s only a joke if you know what a protractor is. Anyone under 30, please look it up.
In the dictionary. That’s a book thingy with a lot of words in it.
Hear that? It’s the darn crickets, chirping away with the news that autumn is upon us. I hope if any get in our house that the snakes eat them.
It’s been said before that there is nothing common about common courtesy, so I won’t repeat it. That phrase did come to mind, though, when we attended a concert in Madison last week.
The band we went to see was Steely Dan, a group that has had a number of hits over the years, but which also has a bit of a cult following due to their interesting mix of jazz, blues, pop, and rock. The concert was held at the Overture Center, which is a splendid venue. It’s very posh and classy, and a well-respected concert hall.
We arrived and climbed many stairs to our seats, which were three rows from the back of the balcony. Our seats were on the aisle, which meant we had to stand as people arrived, which we certainly didn’t mind doing.
Then, at 8pm, the opening act was introduced and began performing. They were a very good trio, though they were a bit hard to hear because of the LOUD CONVERSATIONS taking place in front of and behind us. Also, I would estimate that a third of the people hadn’t entered the concert hall yet at that time, so they shuffled in as the opening band played.
Now, please believe me when I say I’m not always on time. Things can happen, and nobody’s perfect, and all that. But, when people are still finding their seats 45 minutes after the performance is scheduled to begin, I have a hard time cutting them much slack.
I have forgotten to mention so far that one of the attractions of the Overture Center is that you can buy lots adult beverages before and during performances. So, some of the people shuffling past us to their seats were having some trouble doing so, and also struggled as they went back out again (during a song) to get more drinks.
Also, there were phones on everywhere in the hall. From our perspective in the nose-bleed section, we could see them all. People weren’t talking on their phones, but they were taking pictures (“selfies” with the performers behind them), texting, and reviewing Facebook and Twitter. The woman in front of me had her phone on for at least half the time. I almost asked her how she could get her battery to last so long. It is so distracting to have a bright phone screen in front of you in a dark concert hall.
Despite what you might think, none of the distractions kept me from enjoying the concert. Other than being just a bit loud (old-guy comment), it was a really good show, and I’m glad we went. I do think the Overture Center would be well advised to prevent patrons from carrying beverages into the theater and from entering during the performance, other than during pauses between songs.
It’s too bad that common courtesy isn’t common. I just hope it isn’t extinct.
I was typing on my phone the other day (“typing” comes from the word “typewriter,” which is a relic word now) and I realized I was using my middle finger to press the letters. A shocking memory rushed through my mind. When I was young my dad would point at things on a page with his middle finger, and I would be mortified.
Now, 40+ years later, here I was doing the exact same thing. In yet one more way, I’ve become my dad! Don’t get me wrong, there are a lot worse things I could become. I just wasn’t expecting to be a clueless older guy quite so soon.
I think a lot of people in my generation have deluded ourselves into thinking we’re not really getting old. It’s that baloney (bologna, for the purists) about how 50 is the new 40, 70 is the new 60, and death is the new sick.
I’ve never seen myself as “hip” (another relic word), but I do try to keep up. And yet, when I look in a full-length mirror, I see clearly that my fashion sense and my body are both pretty droopy.
Another sign: dad sounds. In an episode of “Family Guy,” the star sits down in an easy chair and says, “Well, I’m going to make some dad sounds now,” after which we hear a minute or so of sighs, groans, moans, sniffs, burps, and such. It was like looking into a mirror.
Not only that, but I’ve graduated from the age of dad jokes to the age of repeating the same dad jokes as if they had never been heard. Dad jokes, if you were wondering, are the dumb jokes many dads can’t help but share around the friends of their children. The first time I realized we dads were all telling the same jokes was when a TV dad, when asked if someone could join him, said, “Why? Am I coming apart?” Up to that point, I had thought was hilarious and original. I guess it was neither.
I realize that some of the changes I’m experiencing come from not being active enough, yet eating the same amount as before – or more. Our kids gifted us with “Fitbit” bracelets that let you know how many steps you’ve taken, calories you’ve burned, etc. I’ve only met the arbitrary goal the device set three times in a month, so that’s not good. What is good is that the thing has influenced me to park further away from a store, take a walk for now reason, or even run up the steps now and then.
I’ve often said that turning out to be my father would be the best possible outcome for me, because he was a good, smart, and honest man. That being said, I think I need to find a balance between taking on old-guy characteristics prematurely, and trying to act like I’m 20 years old again, Dude.
Thanks to the gritty determination of some family members, what appeared to be a weed patch in our yard is once again a flower garden. I thought it was probably in there someplace, but despite my efforts spending a few hours here and there, the weeds got away from me, so I was very, very happy to see the weeds being pulled and the flowers uncovered.
The job got done just in time for a family gathering at our place last weekend, and I felt a little guilty taking compliments for the garden when so much of the work uncloaking it came from others, but it wasn’t the first time I’ve felt guilty about something, so I let them say nice things without stopping them.
Uncovering the flowers made me think about other things in life that exist, but are overgrown by other kinds of “weeds” in our lives.
For starters, a family is a beautiful thing, but some families lose track of that over disagreements, harsh words, slights, and other debris of life, and miss the amazing bond that families have. It’s still there, but needs to be uncovered by forgiveness and honest conversation.
Our nation is also quite amazing. It is, as we can see, the place other people want to come to because of our freedoms and our wealth – which are related, in my opinion.
But, we have the “weeds” of extreme disagreement over things like the appropriate role of government in our lives, the fiscal policies we should follow, and how to deal with threats from abroad. They sometimes get in the way of seeing the true beauty – both physical and philosophical – of our country. Imperfect though we are, no country has done more good for so many people around the world, and no country offers every citizen the opportunity to succeed more than ours. It’s easy to forget those things when there is so much discord and turmoil around us.
It’s hard, but I try to live my life being grateful for what I have, and optimistic about the future of our country. It’s like the flower garden: the flowers were in there, it just took a lot of work to break through the weeds to expose them, and let their beauty thrive in the sunlight.
It would have been a big mistake to spray weed killer on the garden. Sure, it would have killed the weeds, but it would have killed the flowers too. I hope we all have the vision to see the flowers in our gardens, our families, and our country, and should follow, and how to deal with threats from abroad. They sometimes get in the way of seeing the true beauty – both physical and philosophical – of our country. Imperfect though we are, no country has done more good for so many people around the world, and no country offers every citizen the opportunity to succeed more than ours. It’s easy to forget those things when there is so much discord and turmoil around us.
It’s hard, but I try to live my life being grateful for what I have, and optimistic about the future of our country. It’s like the flower garden: the flowers were in there, it just took a lot of work to break through the weeds to expose them, and let their beauty thrive in the sunlight.
It would have been a big mistake to spray weed killer on the garden. Sure, it would have killed the weeds, but it would have killed the flowers too. I hope we all have the vision to see the flowers in our gardens, our families, and our country, and that we’re ready, willing, and able to do the hard work needed to bring them to the sunlight.
While at the columnist’s conference in our nation’s capital earlier this past summer, one of the workshops was about writing sensitively about race and culture. The panelists were four very experienced and knowledgeable writers, all African American.
They provided some good insights into some of the unintended messages writers might send by not being aware of, or sensitive to hot-button words and phrases. It was a good panel, and much of what was shared made sense to me. Surely, communicating ideas in a respectful manner can only improve how we perceive each other.
Since then, I’ve been thinking about the topic of sensitive language, and wondering if it’s possible to be sensitive and sensible. I recalled the brouhaha that occurred when a legislator used the word “niggardly,” which means being a cheapskate, and has nothing to do with the “N word.” He was forced to apologize, not for what the word meant, but for what people with limited vocabulary thought it meant. Would I have chosen that word? Probably not. But, it is a good word.
Color seems to be a minefield. In South Africa, before their democratization, people were considered to be “white” or “non-white.” I’m not sure how that worked for people who were mostly Caucasian, or people from Asia, but it applied both to how people were described and what rights and freedoms they had.
In our country we have had the most trouble coming to a consensus on how we refer to people whose forebears were removed from Africa and brought here against their will. “Negro” was once an appropriate term. Now it is not. “Afro-American” was in vogue in the ‘60s but the longer version, “African American,” is more typical today. “Black” is still okay, I think. “Colored people” was once fine, but not now, though “people of color” is the favored term, though it brings in other minority groups as well. So, the words “people” and “colored” can go from not okay to okay by re-ordering the words and adding “of.”
Actually, the NAACP has the word “colored” in their name. I guess they had a lot of letterhead printed, and didn’t want to change it. Same for the United Negro College Fund.
South of our border, there are a lot of people – many of whom have crossed the border by now – and we tend to group them by the fact that they speak Spanish. They are mostly not of Spanish descent, but we call them “Hispanic.” People from Chile and Guatemala have little in common with people from Mexico or Puerto Rico, other than language, but we call them all “Hispanic” or “Latino.”
When we get into the delicate topic of how Hispanic immigrants get here, it is considered insensitive to call people who crossed the border illegally “illegal.” “Undocumented” is preferred. To me, “undocumented” means that I lost my driver’s license, not that I entered a country without permission, but that’s just me.
The term “Orientals” is very passé, with “Asians” being the new correct name. Asia is huge, though, including people in India all the way to China and beyond. Then there are “Pacific Islanders” who populate the Philippines, Hawaii, etc.
And, we have “Native Americans” now where we once had “Indians.” I’m fine with either name. And, to be honest, I’m fine with all of the names above. I don’t think it is right to focus on someone’s ethnicity or culture, but there are times when it is useful to have group names to identify people. Intermarriage may ultimately make all this a moot point, or at least complicate it. I’ve heard people use the term “ethnically ambiguous” applied to fashion models of mixed race. Maybe that will become the dominant category someday.
If you get right down to it, some people like to be insulting, some people are, perhaps, overly-sensitive about being insulted, and some people are under-sensitive about the words they choose. I guess the best strategy is to try to be sensitive, and to give people the benefit of the doubt when they aren’t.
As part of the columnists’ conference I attended in Washington, DC this past summer, there was a dinner in the Capitol building. The dinner honored the legacy of Will Rogers, and the recipient of this year’s Will Rogers Humanitarian Award, given to a columnist “whose work has positively affected readers’ lives and produced tangible humanitarian benefits.”
The winner was Michael Paul Williams of Richmond, Virginia. In his brief acceptance speech he mentioned that reader surveys showed him both to be the most hated and most loved writer in the Richmond Times Dispatch. I guess he probably doesn’t mince his words too much.
Will Rogers didn’t mince his words either, or, at least you always knew what he meant. He was a real cowboy, and part Native American, and a box office star of Western movies. He also wrote and spoke as a humorist, but with a point of view.
There is a statue of Will in the US Capitol building, which is a little ironic. Here are some of the things he said about Washington and politicians:
“America has the best politicians money can buy.”
“Congress is so strange; a man gets up to speak and says nothing, nobody listens, and then everybody disagrees.”
“Senators are a never-ending source of amusement, amazement, and discouragement.”
“Funny thing about being a U.S. senator, the only thing the law says you have to be is 30 years old. Not another single requirement. They just figure that a man that old got nobody to blame but himself if he gets caught in there.”
“Congress meets tomorrow morning. Let us all pray: Oh Lord, give us strength to bear that which is about to be inflicted upon us. Be merciful with them, oh Lord, for they know not what they’re doing. Amen.”
“We cuss Congress, and we joke about ’em, but they are all good fellows at heart, and if they wasn’t in Congress, why, they would be doing something else against us that might be even worse.”
“Never blame a legislative body for not doing something. When they do nothing, they don’t hurt anybody. When they do something is when they become dangerous.”
“There is something about a Republican that you can only stand him just so long; and on the other hand, there is something about a Democrat that you can’t stand him quite that long.”
“Many a politician wishes there was a law to burn old records.”
“A politician is just like a pickpocket; it’s almost impossible to get one to reform.”
“There’s no trick to being a humorist when you have the entire government working for you.”
Will Rogers was a great American and a very perceptive man. It’s comforting to know, in a way, that our government was frustrating to the country back then too. And, it makes me wonder what Will Rogers would be saying about what our leaders are up to now in 2014. I’ll bet there are one or two quotes above that he might just see fit to use again.
When you hear the term “AC/DC” you may think of the rock band by that name, or of the dispute between Edison and Tesla on transmission of electrical current.
Today, though, I’m talking about being in Washington D.C. on hot days and going into buildings with way too much A.C. (air conditioning). AC/DC. A lot of effort for a dumb joke. I admit it.
We were treated to an evening at Wolf Trap, which is a national park and an outdoor music and drama venue. What a beautiful place to see and hear a concert! The signature composition of the evening was Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, complete with vocalists and a full choir.
It was a fine performance of an amazing piece of music – both in how it sounds, and that it was composed by a deaf man. He could hear the music only in his head, and write it on the parchment, fully scored for orchestra and choir. Amazing.
We also went to the “Newseum.” It is a museum of news, which could mean almost anything, but it mostly covers the history of the news media, and the news events that caused changes in that industry, and in our lives.
Among the exhibits are sections from the Berlin Wall, which came down during the Regan administration, and the wreckage of a radio tower which was once atop one of the World Trade Center buildings. But there were also exhibits from two centuries ago. It’s almost too much for one day.
One evening we sat on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial and looked at the Washington Monument. As the sun set and darkness settled in, the scene became even more moving.
People from all over the world come that that city because they admire what we’ve done here over the many decades, and how we’ve helped bring freedom to others in the world.
Seeing the Newseum exhibits — many from my lifetime, and most from the last century — reminded me how much we need newspapers and journalists to question people in power — both in and out of government — to make sure things are on the up and up. We also need people to read those newspapers and magazines, and to listen to the radio and television broadcasts of the news. It’s funny when late night hosts interview people on the street who have no idea who our vice president is, or whatever, but it’s not so funny when their votes, or absence of votes, determine who is running our country.
One of my Facebook “friends” posted that she had World Cup fever a couple of weeks ago. I responded that I had World Cup sniffles. Translation: I have a mild interest in the soccer games that have consumed most of the world. I don’t hate soccer. In fact, I admire that athleticism of soccer players. It just isn’t my favorite game.
I think it was Jimmy Kimmel who did a bit that included video of some soccer players tapping the ball back and forth to each other while the crowd roared. Fifteen seconds of soccer action where nothing happened. It makes for a good joke, but while there are moments like that in soccer, the tying goal scored by Portugal against the U.S. team on Sunday was pretty spectacular, and not boring at all.
There are a number of sports that seem boring to people who don’t know them well. Many people think good old American baseball is boring. And, I guess it can be. But for someone who knows the subtleties of the game, a three ball/two strike count with runners on first and third and one out with a left-handed batter at the plate can be quite exciting. And, I’d say the infield fly rule of baseball is as esoteric as the off-sides rule in soccer.
And, in fairness, the World Cup really does include teams from all over the world, while the World Series excludes most of the world. Just us and Canada.
Professional bowling has an opposite issue to soccer and baseball. In the later two sports, there is hardly any scoring. In pro bowling, the average game involves the bowler knocking down 90+ percent of the possible pins. Strike after strike. Definitely boring to watch. Now, if you were to watch me bowl, there would be far fewer pins knocked down, and much more comedic value, as it is always possible that I might bounce the ball, let it go backwards, or fall down in the process of bowling. Many people would pay good money to watch that!
Some say that NASCAR is nothing but drivers turning left, which is a fair comment. What makes NASCAR fun to watch is the driver relationships, and the risks the drivers take.
Somehow, poker has become a sport. It has no appeal to me, but lots of people watch it. I’m holding out for the slot machine network.
Soon the World Cup will be over, and we can get back to life as we once knew it, by which I mean Futbol will be edged aside for Football.
The news is, almost by definition, mostly bad. Human nature being what it is, it isn’t very newsworthy to us when things are fine. It is the upsetting of the status quo, threats to our well-being, and shockingly awful things that pique our interest.
The last dozen or more years, while most of us have been living our lives to the best of our ability, the national and international goings on have generally not been very good.
The world of radical Islam arose from smoldering in the shadows to exploding around the Middle East and elsewhere – including New York City. China, North Korea, Russia, and Venezuela are only a few of the other spots in the world where there are problems.
Domestically, we’ve had social discord, economic problems, and increasing concerns about our privacy and freedom. Shootings and stabbings are on the front pages too often. Suicides – especially among returning veterans – seem to be an epidemic.
So, for more and more people, keeping up on the news has become really unpleasant, along with being really depressing. If a person were inclined to feel hopeless, reading or watching the news will surely push them over the edge.
Last weekend I spoke with a couple of people who off-handedly mentioned that they can’t watch the news anymore because it is too upsetting. I like knowing what’s going on, but I find that I’m staying less in touch than usual these days.
The problem is, when it comes time to prepare for the future, it’s good to have an inkling of what might happen. Will gas prices go way up? Will inflation make everything more expensive? Will taxes go up? How can we plan around those factors for our best interests?
If we have learned anything in the past dozen or so years, it is that things we never thought would happen really can happen. It pays to be aware of how things are trending.
And, with fewer people keeping up on the news, that means fewer people will be able to make good decisions when it comes time to vote again. Worse yet, people will make their election decisions based on attack ads on radio and TV that end up making us feel disgusted with all the candidates.
So, I guess even though the majority of the news in the world is pretty awful, we should probably read, watch, and listen to the news. And, we should find a number of different sources for what we take in, to make sure we’re getting the whole story.
And, keep reading your local, weekly newspapers. It’s one of the few places where good news about good people working to make communities better can be found.
The former comic strip “One Big Happy” revolved around a little girl named Ruthie and her somewhat bigger brother. In one strip, they walked into the kitchen having an argument about God. Ruthie said that God’s name was Art, as in “Our Father Who’s Art In Heaven,” while her brother insisted God’s name is Hal, as in “…and Hal would be thy name.”
For some reason, I thought of that strip when I realized Father’s Day is on the way again. Not that I associate being a father with somehow being God-like. Far from it. Being a father is mostly a long series of trying to figure out what to do and how to respond to wives and children as the head of the family, knowing full well that we aren’t really in charge.
To quote Bill Cosby, “If the new American father feels bewildered and even defeated, let him take comfort from the fact that whatever he does in any fathering situation has a fifty percent chance of being right.”
Granted, there are fathers who rule the roost, but even some of them are taking orders on the side from the mothers. It’s not that fathers are powerless, but it is more that with power comes responsibility, and we aren’t that crazy about being responsible when things go wrong.
Fathers’ Day, in my view, is kind of like the Title IX of holidays. Mothers’ Day lavishes love and praise on our sainted mothers – not undeservedly, I hasten to point out. Fathers’ Day exists to balance things off, and make it appear that things are fair.
But, in reality, you can’t balance out the two days. For one thing, fathers don’t give birth, which is a really big deal, commitment wise, that our mothers do for us. Secondly, there are so many single parent households now – most of them headed by mothers – that by all appearances fathers are expendable.
I don’t believe that to be true, of course, but then again, I’m biased.
I am grateful that I had a father, and that he was a good, kind and thoughtful man. If anything, I probably would have benefitted from having a father who had more of a commanding demeanor, but that just wasn’t him, and it isn’t me either.
I guess there are as many varieties of fathers as there are fathers. The best kind are the ones who are present and engaged in their kids’ lives, and who treat the mothers of the family with respect.
I think it’s also important for fathers to tell dumb jokes and embarrass their children whenever possible. Also, kids need to know that their father will always be there, on their side, and ready to listen to the good things and the bad stuff that life dishes out.
So, this guy works at the circus, and his job is to clean up after the elephants. Ten hours a day he scoops up poop and puts it in a wheelbarrow and hauls it away. One night in the bar he’s telling one of his friends about how dirty and smelly his job is. His friend asks him why he doesn’t quit and get another job, to which the fellow says, “What? And quit show business?”
Sometimes I think farmers go through the same sort of angst; not just because they shovel things that come out of animals, but because it is a hard way to make a living, demands almost unending time commitment, and on-going learning to keep up with the laws and new procedures. And yet, for most the money is enough to keep going, but not get ahead too much.
Like the guy with the elephant, though, a lot of farmers I know can’t imagine doing anything else. Whether it is tending to livestock or managing a thousand acres of crop land, and the machines needed to bring in a good crop, I think there is a satisfaction in farming that many ways of life don’t provide.
Farming can be a great way to raise a family, instilling a good work ethic, respect for animals and nature, and an appreciation of family members as an effective team. Sometimes, though, the stresses of farming are too much for a marriage, or the isolation too much for adolescents to shoulder.
For most people, changes in weather can be inconvenient, while for farmers a well-timed rain can be a Godsend, and a poorly-timed rain/drought/hail/frost can mean disaster. A farmer can do everything right and still have a bad outcome.
There are far fewer family farms in Wisconsin than there once were, and far fewer of the big red barns dotting the countryside, as so many succumb to the elements. In some respects it’s a shame, but it’s also understandable. With the exception of specialized farming, such as organic farms, labor intensive crops, and agricultural tourism farms, it’s difficult to farm on a small scale. The advances (though some would quarrel with that word) in technology and biology have made it possible to grow much more food with many fewer work hours. But, the cost of that technology dictates that larger farms exist to best take advantage of the new efficiencies.
The best hope comes in young, educated farmers who are committed to the values of farm life, unafraid of the time and effort required, and grateful for the opportunity to live their dream. Some grew up on farms, and some aspired to that life.
I admire the farmers I know, not because of some romanticized vision, but because it takes a special person to devote a life to such long hours and hard work. It will be interesting to see how Wisconsin’s farms are faring in 20 years. I’m hopeful that our tradition of farm families will still live on.
It’s after Memorial Day now, and since this is an election year, the game of politics will begin to be played in earnest soon. Today I’m reflecting on some political memories of my own.
The house I grew up in was probably not normal. Our dinner conversations often involved politics and philosophy – not quoting Socrates or anything, but discussing right and wrong, positives and negatives, and such.
I took an interest in politics early on. I was politically aware, if not politically active. In 1968, after the Republican convention, vice presidential candidate Spiro Agnew made his very first campaign stop in my hometown of Oshkosh. We went to the airport to see him speak. He looked like a cross between Joe Biden and Ed McMahon. He was later found guilty of corruption while Maryland’s governor, and resigned as vice president. But, on that day he was impressive.
In high school I went to Washington, D.C. as part of a government study group, and while there met and heard a number of administration members along with my congressman at the time, and William Proxmire, who was one of Wisconsin’s senators for about 100 years, famously spending about $100 per re-election campaign. Not $100 million. $100.
While in Duluth, I we met Independent Party candidate John Anderson, and he gave a good speech, but completely ignored my wife when we gathered to talk. Maybe he was an old-school sexist. Also in Duluth, the Jaycee club I belonged to invited Eugene McCarthy to speak at our meeting in the basement at Pizza Hut. (Our president at the time REALLY liked pizza.) McCarthy had run unsuccessfully for president several times as a liberal, anti-war candidate, but by 1980, according to Wikipedia, “Dismayed by what he saw as the abject failure of the Jimmy Carter presidency, he appeared in a campaign ad for Libertarian candidate Ed Clark, and eventually endorsed Ronald Reagan for the presidency.”
We also met the aforementioned Mr. Clark, and the picture he painted of Libertarianism was very compelling, if not totally realistic.
While working for Wisconsin Public Radio I met Governor Tommy Thompson at a WPR donors’ event at the governor’s mansion, and Governor Tony Earl at the studios.
So, what do I think about all these people? Back in the 19th century, Lord Acton of England said this: “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men.” Some of these people I’ve seen and met over the years may have become somewhat corrupted, but only because we allowed it by giving them more power than we should have given up. Our founders didn’t foresee career politicians, but rather citizen legislators, and a public and press that would hold them accountable.
We’ve lived at our place for about 30 years, which is a pretty long time. And, it probably goes without saying that we’ve accumulated a lot of stuff. We’re not ready for an episode of “Hoarders,” but a reasonable person could wonder why we have kept a lot of what we have.
Last weekend we did some serious cleaning in the machine shed that has served as our garage for all these years. In addition to vehicles, lawn mowers, and such, here are some of the things we found (that we didn’t remember we even owned) while cleaning things out: a ball peen hammer, a siphon, four jacks, storage containers without lids, lids without storage containers, oil filters for cars we haven’t owned for 20 years, and two substantial wooden drawers, without whatever it was they fit into.
There were chemicals for killing weeds and fertilizing grass, tools for cutting unwanted grass and weeds, cultivating the garden, and wood for heating the house. We ordered a face cord of oak back in 1985 or so, and used a lot of it, but once we removed the wood stove from our house, our wood use dropped substantially.
Over the course of the weekend, I’d estimate we asked each other this question several hundred times: “Should we keep this?” The answers varied, but rarely came easily.
So, today I ask myself another question: why do we keep things?
We were both brought up not to waste things, since we both had parents who struggled during the Great Depression. As a result, the possibility that something might come in handy someday dictates a lot. For example, the three foot long 2 X 4 may be useful five years from now, but only if we remember we have it, and where. Multiply that times 300 or 400 pieces of wood in various stages of decay, add in hundreds of feet of rubber hose without fittings, and thousands of feet of various types of wire, and pretty soon you’re in trouble.
Another reason to keep things relates to how much space you have. A corollary to Murphy’s Law about things going wrong goes like this: “The amount of stuff you have is equal to the amount of space you have, plus one.” Living on a farmstead, we have way more space than someone living in a residential home, or an apartment. We keep things because we can.
What I think of as I get older is the news interviews with people who have lost everything due to a storm, a fire, or some other disaster. They are devastated, but at the same time grateful if their loved ones survived unscathed. Our stuff has importance, both because it is useful and because of the memories that are wrapped up in it.
Going through the cleaning last weekend has got us both re-thinking what we’ll be hanging onto in the future. The first two things on the list, and the only important items, will be our memories and each other.
things on the list, and the only important items, will be our memories and each other.
It seems that almost every day another public figure does or says something that warrants an apology. Sometimes they say they’re sorry, and sometimes they don’t. It seems to depend a lot on how upset they think their fans or constituents are, and how quickly they think it will blow over.
We’ve become accustomed to certain phrases being associated with these apologies. Some of them seem more sincere than others. Rarely, though, do we hear someone say, “I did (said) a very stupid thing. I have no excuses. I am completely responsible and can’t justify it. I’m really sorry, and I’d understand if you never trust me again, but I hope I can earn your trust by my actions as time goes on.”
Instead, we hear things like, “I misspoke,” or “it was in-artfully articulated,” or “I’m sorry for how you feel about what I did,” or “I didn’t do (say) what you think I did (said,) but my enemies want you to believe I did.”
It is understandable that people have reasons for what they’ve done. The big mistakes I’ve made have mostly been out of weakness or stupidity. Some people have substance abuse or mental or emotional issues to fault for their actions. For some it’s an attempt to be funny.
Mistakes made by a lot of public figures seem to happen often because they suffer from a sense that they are “special,” above the rules and the law, and way too smart to ever get caught at what they’re doing.
I’ve written about remorse before, and the key to saying you’re sorry is actually being sorry. And by that I don’t mean being sorry for getting caught, but being sorry for what you’ve done. That’s something we can’t really judge in others, since some people (like puppies) are really good at seeming sorry, but will get into the trash again at the first opportunity.
We tend not to hold people equally accountable for bad behavior. A lot depends on whether we like the person, or if what was said or done is a violation of political correctness.
I’m thankful that I’m not famous or powerful, since most of the stupid things I’ve said and done are not even remotely interesting to the media, or anyone else, for that matter. Part of being famous or powerful is that you are held to a higher standard, and it would be a great idea for those folks to keep that in mind before doing something for which they’ll need to apologize.
You may have read recently that a shrimper off Key West, Florida caught a goblin shark. It was a big deal, since they are rarely seen, and especially rarely seen in our part of the world, mostly living in the Pacific Ocean near Japan.
If you saw the photos of this fish you may have had nightmares later. If you didn’t, imagine a fairly regular looking shark with a set of very toothy jaws stuck on under his snout, if you call it that on a shark.
The man released it, which is good, because, as I said, they’re rare. Or, at least we think they’re rare. They live so deep in the ocean that it’s difficult to know how many there are. They live where there is virtually no light, which, given how unattractive they are, is a good thing.
I hasten to point out that to goblin sharks of the opposite sex they are probably very attractive.
And that takes me to the duck billed platypus.
And if you don’t get the connection, I don’t blame you, but the platypus (the “duck billed” part is really unnecessary, since there is no “non-duck billed platypus) is also a bit of an oddity.
The platypus lives in eastern Australia and Tasmania (with the devil) and is one of five mammals that lays eggs. The other four are spiny anteaters, and not the Easter Bunny. Wikipedia refers to the platypus as being “duck-billed, beaver-tailed, and otter-footed,” and when first discovered some naturalists thought it was a hoax, like Rhinelander, Wisconsin’s “Hodag.”
It is also one of the few venomous mammals. I don’t imagine it would be a very good pet. Here’s another interesting feature: it uses electronic receptors to gauge the presence of prey, sensing minute bits of electronic energy expended by muscle movements.
And that takes us to the snake I found in our house last week. Once again, I don’t blame you if you don’t get the connection. It was barely visible as it was hanging out near a heat duct on our outside wall where the molding had been removed. It was a western fox snake, I think, and was seeking some warmth on a cold night.
I don’t mind the idea of snakes, and I enjoy seeing them outside, but it is unsettling to know you are sharing your domicile with one. I think it’s mainly because, like the goblin shark and the platypus, they are mysterious and not at all like other animals have we encountered.
We called a knowledgeable friend, who suggested that we wait until it gets warmer, at which point the snake would go back outside. That proved to be good advice, at least as far as we know.
We mostly kept our calm with the snake, but if we ever have a platypus or a goblin shark in our house, you won’t find us at home until they’re gone.
In this case, “it” is why I’m overly large for a person of my height.
Part of it is surely genetic. While my mom was a very slight woman, and my dad was tall, but not overweight, my mom’s brother weighed as much as 500+ pounds at times in his life.
But that’s not the main cause.
I like to eat, and I like to drink soady-pop, as they say in Sikeston, Missouri. Lots of thin people like to eat too, so that’s not the complete cause.
As a youth (as we older people say) I played baseball, basketball, and tennis, along with football, bike riding, and generally running around. I played sports through my sophomore year in high school, and even pick-up games in college and beyond. I consider my self to be an athlete.
Fast forward a few dozen years, and yes, I can still play basketball (after a fashion) and tossing a baseball around is fun, and after a year’s absence, I plan to get reacquainted with my bike this summer. But, the intensity with which I exercise has not caught up with the amount calories I take in.
But here’s the biggest reason for my oversizeness: mirrors. As the tall person in our household, there are no mirrors that easily show the parts of me that have become super-sized. From the chest up, I look okay. Below the chest is where the problems start. When visiting or in a hotel room, I’m shocked to see how much of me there is.
Anyway, the title above talks about being a sleepy athlete, and, while I haven’t been diagnosed officially, I know I snore and have some sleep apnea. I know the non-motorized treatment for apnea is considerable weight loss. So, for the sake of my health and longevity, it’s time for the athlete to try to reemerge, and for the big eater to push away from the table a little sooner.
While eating my oatmeal the other morning I flipped on the TV to see what the over-the-air world of free television had to offer. I’m very tired of the network morning shows, with the crowds of people trying to get on TV, and the celebrity worship and lifestyle tips. I’m sure it’s just me, though. I’m getting crankier by the minute.
On channel 15.3 I came across a show called “Too Close for Comfort.” I had completely forgotten about that show, and for good reason. It starred Ted (Baxter) Knight, who was great in “The Mary Tyler Moore Show.” In this one, he plays a cartoonist. And yet, he’s still Ted Baxter.
The title of that program made me think about situation comedy names through the years, including some that we never got a chance to see, by which I mean shows that exist exclusively in my imagination.
First, the real shows: “Bosom Buddies” (Tom Hanks’ first role), “Three’s Company,” “Family Ties,” “Family Matters,” “All in the Family,” “Family Guy,” “Family Affair,” “The Addams Family,” “Married With Children,” “Happy Days,” “Full House,” “Two and a Half Men,” “My Name is Earl,” “Home Improvement,” “The Golden Girls,” “My Two Dads,” “Father Knows Best,” “Bachelor Father,” and “Mr. Belvidere.”
Note that many have something to do with family in their titles. I guess families are just wacky and hilarious all the time. Right? “Full House,” “Family Affair,” “and “My Two Dads” were all about non-traditional families, as was “The Brady Bunch.” In most of the shows with fathers, he was an idiot. I’m just saying…
Maybe you don’t remember all of the above, or the dozens not noted, like “Petticoat Junction,” “The Beverly Hillbillies,” and “Green Acres,” which were all connected, sharing characters from time to time. “Friends” and “Cheers” had spin-off series too.
Some of these programs were amusing morality plays each week. “Father Knows Best,” in particular, always had a message of human imperfection and redemption. Even “My Name Is Earl” talked about redemption, Karma, and doing the right thing.
Most of the shows, though, were intended to be entertaining, and sometimes were. “Green Acres” and “The Addams Family” were absurdist comedies, as was “Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman.”
Here are some situation comedy names that I imagine didn’t make it past the pilot phase, so we’ll never see them: “I Can’t Find My Pants,” “Two Men, a Lady, and a Turtle,” “The President’s Imaginary Friend,” “Rock, Paper, Scissors… and Trudy,” “Please Pass the Baby,” “Three’s Bigamy,” “Too Many Wieners,” and “Whereupon Silly and Timid Mildred Seeks a Suitable Suitor” (PBS).
I think all of these shows could be fantastic! In fact, I think I’ll write a pilot script for one of them and become famous. Wait! That could be a premise for a sit-com: “Famous, But Still an Idiot.”
After months of watching as the health-care industry has undergone the changes wrought by government mandates, the email came. It was from the human resources director at the company I work for – a small company, but one with over 50 employees.
It said that our current carrier was looking at a “very large increase” in our insurance costs, and that we needed to look at other options.
It wouldn’t be the first increase over the years, as insurance costs have gone up pretty regularly, which makes “very large increase” seem a little worrisome. But, there’s little we can do, so I hope they find a company willing to insure our employees for a large increase, without the “very” in front of it.
There have been many stories in the news about cancer patients who are unable to receive their treatments, or otherwise ailing folks who can’t find a participating doctor to go with their new plan.
The press is good at finding people to represent what they consider to be a failing, but in this case it seems that there are too many incidences to discount.
Assuming we do still have insurance that doesn’t bankrupt us in the year to come, I’ll count us among the fortunate. It will be interesting that in our new policy we’ll be paying for maternity care, though neither of us is likely to have a baby anytime soon. We’ll also be paying for optical care for our children, both of whom are off and on their own. We’ll be paying for lots of coverage we don’t need, because that’s the law of the land.
In fairness, many people who haven’t had health insurance before now do have it. Unfortunately, nearly as many people who had insurance before do not any longer have it, or have a policy which is either grossly more expensive, or has no physicians willing to take patients with those plans.
It’s not unusual for there to be “collateral damage” when making major changes in society, and prudent, constructive people can work together to throw out what isn’t working, tweak what could work, and add elements that would make the whole thing run better. But, sometimes people dig in their heels and don’t give an inch.
I hope, for my little family, that the increases we incur this coming year won’t be too big, but I’m afraid that’s a wish with little chance of coming true. I hope your situation with medical insurance is working for you, and if not, I’ll look forward with you to improvements in the years to come.
We’ve lived at our place for about 30 years, which is a pretty long time. And, it probably goes without saying that we’ve accumulated a lot of stuff. We’re not ready for an episode of “Hoarders,” but a reasonable person could wonder why we have kept a lot of what we have.
Last weekend we did some serious cleaning in the machine shed that has served as our garage for all these years. In addition to vehicles, lawn mowers, and such, here are some of the things we found (that we didn’t remember we even owned) while cleaning things out: a ball peen hammer, a siphon, four jacks, storage containers without lids, lids without storage containers, oil filters for cars we haven’t owned for 20 years, and two substantial wooden drawers, without whatever it was they fit into.
There were chemicals for killing weeds and fertilizing grass, tools for cutting unwanted grass and weeds, cultivating the garden, and wood for heating the house. We ordered a face cord of oak back in 1985 or so, and used a lot of it, but once we removed the wood stove from our house, our wood use dropped substantially.
Over the course of the weekend, I’d estimate we asked each other this question several hundred times: “Should we keep this?” The answers varied, but rarely came easily.
So, today I ask myself another question: why do we keep things?
We were both brought up not to waste things, since we both had parents who struggled during the Great Depression. As a result, the possibility that something might come in handy someday dictates a lot. For example, the three foot long 2 X 4 may be useful five years from now, but only if we remember we have it, and where. Multiply that times 300 or 400 pieces of wood in various stages of decay, add in hundreds of feet of rubber hose without fittings, and thousands of feet of various types of wire, and pretty soon you’re in trouble.
Another reason to keep things relates to how much space you have. A corollary to Murphy’s Law about things going wrong goes like this: “The amount of stuff you have is equal to the amount of space you have, plus one.” Living on a farmstead, we have way more space than someone living in a residential home, or an apartment. We keep things because we can.
What I think of as I get older is the news interviews with people who have lost everything due to a storm, a fire, or some other disaster. They are devastated, but at the same time grateful if their loved ones survived unscathed. Our stuff has importance, both because it is useful and because of the memories that are wrapped up in it. Going through the cleaning last weekend has got us both re-thinking what we’ll be hanging onto in the future. The first two things on the list will be our memories and each other.
One of the many ubiquitous GEICO insurance ads involves a couple on a date. When the woman says everybody knows about GEICO, the man says, “But, did you know that there IS an oldest trick in the book?”
At that point, we switch to a castle scene where a young apprentice is learning from an old teacher, who looks in his book and says: “Trick number one: Lookest over there!” The boy looks, and sees nothing. Then the old teacher says, “Ha-ha! Madest thou look! So endeth the trick.”
That got me thinking about humor through the ages, going back to early humans. So much of humor is based on the nervousness we feel when someone violates certain taboos about sex, and such, that I wondered what would be funny in a society with no taboos? I mean, if you’re already running around naked and using the woods as a bathroom, what would be funny?
“America’s Funniest Videos” may have the answer. Their formula is videos of people doing stupid things that make them crash, fall down, be terrified, or fall into the water – or a wedding cake.
Early humans may have found it funny when Zor tripped over a tree root. Or maybe it was funny when Grog threw his spear at an elk, but accidentally hit Thon in the leg.
Laughing is such a natural thing to us. Even young babies chuckle. I wonder, though, who was the first person to laugh, and what did they laugh at, and what did the other humans think about it?
Let’s say Frop and Clon are walking along, and Frop runs into a tree. Somewhere in his body, Clon feels the urge to laugh, and he does. Frop gets up from the ground, and says the primitive human version of, “What kind of weird sound is that you just made? Are you sick?” Clon can only shrug.
Maybe there became secret societies of laughers who got together deep in the woods to do pratt falls and funny faces so they could laugh in safety, beyond the suspicious eyes of the non-laughers. Perhaps those secret societies spawned the genetics that eventually gave us comedians.
As time went on, and language became more sophisticated – not to mention people wearing clothes and going to the bathroom in private – I’m sure humor naturally developed. Some possible examples: “Gee Charles, you seem to have forgotten your codpiece.” Or, “Phillip, have you seen Lady Gwendolyn, whom rumor says is faster than the many hours it would take to remove the 37 layers of over and undergarments in which she is dressed?” Not thigh slappers, but maybe funny back then.
Now it seems that many comedians rely on the shock value of vulgar language, but I prefer those who tell amusing stories or reflect on human characteristics. And yet, watching someone (as long as it isn’t me) get hit in the “swimsuit area” by a three year-old with a bat is actually very funny. I guess there’s a little bit of cave man left in me.
Have you noticed that we use words that made a lot of sense at one time, but really don’t anymore? No? Well, just wait until I provide you with some examples, okay?
The easiest place to start is the telephone. With few exceptions, nobody has a phone with a dial anymore, so why do we still ask people to “dial” a phone number? We push buttons to reach someone by phone, or in some cases, we just say the person’s name, and our phone reaches out and touches someone. (For the younger reader, that phrase was the Bell Telephone slogan to encourage folks to use long-distance telephone services.)
Likewise, “hanging-up” used to mean putting the hand-set back onto the cradle of the telephone. Most of us have wireless or cordless phones now, so there’s nothing to hang-up. We disconnect.
Also, when we ask someone to “give us a ring,” that doesn’t make sense, considering most phones beep, buzz, hoot, or toot, or anything but ring.
Writing once meant taking a pen, pencil, or feather, and putting words down on paper for others to read. Now, 99.99% (a made-up statistic) of “writing” involves using a keyboard, or even technology to convert our spoken words into text. So, now a student can “write a paper” that is neither written nor on paper, since it can be submitted electronically to the teacher.
For that matter, “going to school” can be done from one’s living room through on-line education or home-schooling.
The “gas station” or “filling station” of my youth is now mostly a convenience store with some gas pumps. Many of those pumps still say “Self-service,” harking back to the day when a few places offered that money-saving option, versus having the guy (I never saw a gal doing it) come out to put the gas in for you. There is a state law in Oregon that outlaws filling your own gas tank. I’m not sure why.
Have you, or anyone you know, ever put gloves in the glove compartment? It should be called the “maps and emergency napkins compartment.”
Time is another area of change. In an era when all clocks were analog, meaning faces with hands pointing to numbers, the idea of “quarter-to” or “half-past” made perfect sense. Those concepts don’t work with digital clocks or watches. For that matter, watches are disappearing in some circles, since people are tethered to their wireless phones all the time, and those phones have clocks.
I surely don’t mind all these changes, and I do try to keep up. However, when I say something, and someone under 40 years of age gives me a blank stare in return, I need to realize that I may have used a word that doesn’t apply, and hasn’t for years. In other words, I have become my father, and, that’s not a bad thing at all.
Over the next few weeks there will be lots of basketball tournaments to watch. State high school, college conference, NCAA, NIT tournaments for both men and women will crowd the cable airwaves, and just when you think they were over, up will pop the NBA tournament games. In the event you are not highly knowledgeable on Mr. Naismith’s game, I’m here to help.
I have a long history of playing basketball badly, and watch just enough on TV to provide you with all you’ll need to know.
1. Traveling. This is an infraction that used to involve taking more than two steps without dribbling the ball. In the modern era, many steps, along with a hop, skip, and jump can be taken. Traveling is most likely to be called in pee-wee basketball, and less likely each step up to NBA ball, where a player once travelled from New York to Philadelphia without bouncing the ball even once, and was not penalized.
2. Coaches. Unlike baseball, where coaches wear uniforms, or football, where most wear sweatshirts, basketball coaches wear fine suits, and, I’m guessing, soak them with perspiration as they parade back and forth in front of their teams, cajoling the players, and beseeching the referees. From time to time the coaches call time-outs, and share highly sophisticated strategies with their players, who then go back into the game and do something different. There are surprisingly few strokes.
3. Betting. A lot of people bet on basketball tournaments. A statistics professor has opined that the chance of someone who follows basketball getting all the games right is about 128 billion to one. So, good luck!
4. Commentary. The sports talk people will spend countless hours talk about what might happen, and countless hours talking about what did happen. In between, there will be games.
5. Work. How many people watch tournament games while they are being paid to do a job? It is said that 86% of people who watch the NCAA games watch at least some of them at work. I, personally, wouldn’t ever do that, since it might disrupt my Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, and http://www.peterwallace.wordpress.com use. Oh, and work.
6. When will the tournaments end? Well, I remember visiting someone years ago to watch Michael Jordan play in the NBA tournament games, and it was 90 degrees outside and there were lots of mosquitoes, so I’m guessing it was late June. I always think of basketball of a winter sport, but I guess not.
7. How important are basketball games compared to other things going on around the world? Very! If we really thought about everything else that’s going on other than basketball, we’d go crazy, so thank goodness for all those games!
If you have other questions, simply tune in to ESPN 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, etc., Yahoo Sports, NBC Sports, Fox
Sports, CBS Sports, or Vatican Sports. I made up the last one.
The other day I was pondering how and why certain words are chosen to represent certain groups and behaviors. For example, are we Deerfield-ites and Cambridgians, or Deerfieldians and Cambridge-ites?
More to my point, though, are words like writers, editors, and teachers, but also words like escapists, rapists, and artists. Who decides who gets the “er” or the “ist?” Escaper sounds like that could work. Arters doesn’t right at all.
Groups we don’t like, like rapists, facists, racists, communists, and sexists get the same suffix as artists. So do capitalists and socialists.
But people who see homosexuals the way sexists see women are called homophobes. It’s interesting that out of all the “ists,” people in that category get a suffix that says they are afraid of homosexuals. I guess some people who are troubled by homosexuality may be afraid of gays and lesbians, but I’m not sure all of them are.
Using that strategy, sexists would be called female-aphobes, and communists would be called freedom-aphobes. If anything, people of color who are afraid of whites might be correctly considered race-aphobes, given the improving, but historically unfair treatment they’ve received.
And, we could probably coin the term “hetro-aphobes” to refer to homosexuals who don’t like straight people. I honestly haven’t met any, but they may exist.
Some terms are confusing. A naturalist likes nature, while a naturist goes au natural. Vegetarians eat vegetables. Humanitarians don’t eat humans, fortunately, and veterinarians don’t eat veterans, except in very rare cases.
In my lifetime, we’ve all become more aware of the power of words. Non-sexist language has turned firemen into firefighters, policemen into police officers, mailmen into letter carriers, and manhole covers into utility access portals, or something.
As a father of two daughters, I’m glad that they saw fighting fires and crime as career options, and not something for men only. But I also know that word choices can cause a slant in perception. For example, a capitalist sounds less friendly than someone involved in free enterprise, and that the terms pro-choice and pro-life are attributed to opposite sides in the dispute, but do not have opposite meanings.
In an era when the world of technology has commandeered words like icon, friend, tweet, like, mouse, cursor, hash, and tag, it may be tempting to become cavalier about how we use words. I guess it’s always struck me that words really are important, and that we owe it to others to use words in a fair and clear way, and owe it to ourselves to question the use of words that misrepresent.
For now, I’m going to continue to be a write-ist, and avoid being a naturist, at least until it is much warmer.
Every two years there are Olympic Games. If you hadn’t noticed, this year we’re enjoying the Winter Olympics, which involves mostly sports that very few people ever participate in. That may not be true, but I think it is.
Today I’d like to answer some questions about the Winter Olympics.
Q: Where do people go to become bobsledders?
A: This is a mystery. Have you ever seen a neighborhood bobsledding club? Do you know anyone who has gone to college on a bobsledding scholarship? And, for that matter, who is this “Bob?”
Q: Why do biathlon participants carry guns?
A: It is a little known fact that the biathlon used to be a means of reducing the number of cross-country skiers on congested Scandinavian ski trails. Skiers would stop now and then and take pot-shots at other skiers – usually aiming to wing them in a non-fatal way. But, when skiers became endangered, guns were fired only at non-human targets on the course.
Q: What’s the deal with curling?
A: In the far north, people tend to run out of things to do. One year, some Canadians who had gone to Florida decided to play shuffleboard on a frozen lake when they got home. The pucks kept blowing away, so they used stones. And, since it kept snowing, they had to sweep the snow away to see the bulls’ eyes, or something like that.
Q: Do hockey players ever participate in ice dancing?
A: Yes, several men’s hockey players competed in ice dancing pairs a few years ago, but in the heat of competition they became confused and threw their partners against the boards, leaving the fans in the ice arena stunned – not to mention the women ice dancers.
Q: What Olympic sport is no longer included in the winter games?
A: The multi-national snowball fight had been a traditional event at the close of the Winter Olympics until the Russians – then Soviets – were accused of throwing slush balls, sending the French athletes back to their quarters sniffling that it was unfair.
Q: Has social media impacted the Olympics in any way?
A: Texting while skiing has resulted in a number of runaway downhill skiers, two of which ended up in Chechnya, where they had to pay roaming charges.
Q: Could the speed skating and cross-country ski uniforms be any tighter?
A: No.
Q: Has there ever been a figure skating disaster?
A: Yes. A Swedish skater once went into a spin that was so intense he drilled through the ice and hit a gas line. That was the origin of the term “going out in a blaze of glory.”
Of course, none of the above is true, as far as I know. I do know that my winter sport involves getting from here to there without crashing or falling on the ice. So far so good. I’m still in the medal round!
From time to time there are topics that don’t warrant a full column, but deserve a passing comment. When I say passing comment, I’m not talking about Peyton Manning or Russell Wilson, though they deserve one as well.
It is a real hardship that Liquid Propane prices have gone up so far, and supplies have gone down. The two are related, of course. And, as expected, some in Congress are calling for investigations. In my view, investigating supply and demand is like investigating gravity, but that’s just me.
Senator Elizabeth Warren has suggested that the United States Postal Service get into the banking business. Really. What could possibly go wrong?
In Germany, the neo-Nazi Golden Dawn party said that if it is banned, it will simply change its name. That is a good example of not getting the hint that you’re not wanted.
A Nebraska man was arrested for suspicion of DUI recently. Oh, by the way; there were 100 chickens in the SUV, including 50 that were dead. I’m sure there’s a good explanation.
From the Phoenix CBS affiliate: “One of the elite athletes who crossed the finish line in the grueling Ironman Arizona last November is 49-year-old Audrey Glemba. She’s a medically-retired police officer who collects a worker’s compensation check every month for an injury she said prevented her from doing her job.” I don’t know the whole story, but it doesn’t sound good.
If Supreme Court Justice Sotomayer is correct that calling “illegals” criminals is insulting, does it then follow that to suggest that criminals have done something illegal is also insulting? “Illegal” and “criminal” are two words that are related, no matter how much one might want them not to be. I feel for people who came here for a better life, but also for those who have followed the rules of immigration law, and as a result are still standing in line to get in.
Mary Barra, the new CEO of General Motors is being paid less than half than the man she replaced. Yes, it’s still millions of dollars, but if she’s equally qualified, why the big pay cut? Oh, and the Whitehouse’s female staff averaged 18% less in pay than male staff according to an annual report from the administration.
After sharing more than a bottle of whiskey during a Super Bowl party, two brothers had a big loving hug, threw up on each other’s faces, and then had a brawl, resulting in one of the brothers having part of his ear bitten off. Super!
And, to cap things off, Russia plans to kill as many of the thousands of stray dogs as possible in Sochi, because they don’t want to be embarrassed if one runs into the festivities. It is said to be common practice to kill stray dogs in Russia. Sochi has been hiring a pest control company to do the job for years. Nice.
Oh, one more thing. A pediatrician in Delaware is standing trial for waterboarding the 12 year-old daughter of his girlfriend. Spare the faucet, spoil the child, I guess.
It’s a crazy world, if you hadn’t noticed. Lots of things happen that don’t make any sense at all. It makes reality TV seem unnecessary, doesn’t it?
Generally, when someone tells you they have a great joke, it isn’t. Just ask my family. The same is often true of a “great” idea. This is probably the case here, but it’s a topic that’s been on my mind.
There are people in our country who need help. There’s no question about it. I think most people would agree that there are also people who take help they don’t need. That could apply to the general categories of corporate welfare and individual welfare of various types.
I’d say that the biggest impediment to the idea of helping people in need is that many people have the perception that we’re also helping people in “want,” who could get by without our help if they wanted to. Some have had the personal experiences of seeing food stamp recipients buying food that those paying cash can’t afford, or talking on a nicer cell phone, or getting into a nicer car. Many people also know someone on disability income who golfs, does strenuous yard work, and seems capable of working, but doesn’t.
It paints all who get assistance with a broad brush, and it’s not fair.
With more and more people becoming users of welfare services, there are fewer and fewer providers left to pay the tax bills. It seems to me that this might be a good time to rethink things all together.
First, I think there need to be serious consequences for people who “play” the system, and we need to allocate resources to police things. My main reason is that the cheaters really damage popular support for programs that can help the truly needy. Selling food stamps for cash to buy drugs can’t be tolerated, for example.
Nobody who is truly in need should be looked down upon for taking advantage of a government program. Each program defines what “in need” is. It’s possible that those definitions should be looked at, but let’s say for now that they’re all correct.
Unfortunately, some people on assistance will always need help, due to some physical, mental, or emotional limitation. Others, though, may need help temporarily, and should be given both the opportunity to become self-dependent, through job training and remedial education, and the incentive to do so, in the form of declining government payments.
For example, when people talk about long-term unemployment benefits – those that happen after the state unemployment insurance has expired – they rarely mention the studies that show a great improvement in the employment status of people whose benefits have ended. For a percentage of recipients, the end of the payments gives the job search new intensity. Why not pass an extension to those benefits that goes down 10% per month for 10 months, giving people that long to find a job?
The welfare reform that Wisconsin initiated under Governor Thompson, and a similar plan that President Clinton signed into law (which has recently been gutted) had the same general goal – to help people help themselves. Some saw that as heartless, but the people who joined the working world were generally very happy to be making a living on their own.
So, that’s my “great idea” in a nutshell, which may be where it belongs. Spend money to save money and embarrassment to the system, reduce fraud, and make benefits to healthy, able people decline over time as an incentive to work.
This is the third in a series of observations about people who died last year. They are all relatively famous. They are not, though, any more important than friends, neighbors, and relatives we’ve lost.
It’s easier to talk about famous people passing, because they were never really quite real to us. Brothers, fathers, aunts, and sisters were a real part of our lives, and it is a challenge to get our heads and hearts around their passing.
In the world of sports, David “Deacon” Jones, the LA Rams lineman famous for his play, and for coining the term “sacking the quarterback” died. So did former New York Giants player and broadcaster Pat Summerall died, as did former coach Bum Phillips. Nice name.
Former Giant Dave Jennings died, as did Frank Chamberlin – a recent Titan – of brain cancer.
Speaking of shots to the head, boxer Ken Norton (one of five boxers to beat Mohamad Ali) and Tommy Morrison (who boxed in Rocky 5) were down for the count.
Race car drivers Dick Trickle (a Wisconsin man with an unfortunate name) Jason Leffler, Allan Simonsen, and Sean Edwards all died. All but Trickle died racing. He ended his own life.
In the world of baseball, 70 former major league players died, but few names stand out. Stan Musial does, having won seven batting titles. Frank Castillo played with the Cubs, and Ed Herrmann played for the White Sox. Long-time Orioles manager Earl Weaver was on an Orioles fantasy cruise when he expired. Definitely not his fantasy.
Remember the Billy Jack movies? Tom Laughlin was the creator and star of those good versus evil movies. Conrad Bain was Mr. Phillip Drummond, the man who adopted two black boys, Arnold and Willis. Ed Lautner was in lots of roles, usually not playing a nice guy. Harry Reems had a long… career in the porn industry before going into legitimate theater.
Hiroshi Yamauchi who ran Nintendo didn’t play baseball, but he did buy the Seattle team.
Two people who knew how to play the game in Washington died: Lindy Boggs, congresswoman from Louisiana, and former Speaker of the House Tom Foley.
Two people with multiple careers died last year. Ester Williams was a famous swimmer turned actress. She acted in a movie made at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan, where they built her a pool.
Father Andrew Greeley was, as you might guess, a priest. In addition, he was the writer of provocative novels, like “Cardinal Sins.”
So many great and infamous people died last year, and yet among those who were born, there are surely as many with the potential for importance, or even greatness. Maybe greatness and heroism we can’t even imagine.
One thing I’ve learned over the years of researching the recap of people who have died in the year gone by is that each list I find includes or omits people who appear, or don’t appear on other lists. My review of those who have passed is no different. I pick and choose, and I’m sure I overlook people you wouldn’t, and vice versa.
That being said, in this second installment of 2013 passings, the world of politics lost some major figures of change in their respective countries. Nelson Mandela led South Africa into the modern age. Hugo Chavez led Venezuela into a communist system, and Margaret Thatcher moved the British towards free markets from their socialist morass.
Frank Lautenberg was the last surviving WWII vet in the Senate. Ed Koch was a long-time New York City mayor, and, I believe, the first judge on The People’s Court.
Some authors who had definite points of view, but not as politicians, also died last year. Tom Clancy and Vince Flynn wrote thrillers that sometimes bore a striking resemblance to actual events in the world of global intrigue.
Chris Kyle was a writer, but mostly a retired Navy Seal. I mention his death in part to pay tribute to the other special ops heroes and other military who died last year.
A hero from an earlier day, Scott Carpenter, the Mercury astronaut, made his last orbit around the sun in 2013. When I was in first grade I thought he was the best.
In the world of journalism — kind-of — Dear Abby joined her twin sister in wherever the after-life brought them. Helen Thomas, a journalist/thorn-in-the-side-of-presidents, asked her last question. Roger Ebert, who won me over with his amazing courage, succumbed to the cancer that had left him disfigured and unable to speak. He has two thumbs-up from me.
Dr. Joyce Brothers was the first psychologist to become a household name. Surgeon General G. Edward Koop was a stern voice for better health and not smoking, and the only surgeon general I can bring to mind.
We lost some amazing inventors, including Douglas Englebart, who invented the computer mouse, Andre Cassagnes, who invented the Etch-a Sketch, and audio engineer Amar Bose, who designed arguably the best speakers in the world.
Two other inventors, of a sort, were Robert Edwards, who did the first in-vitro fertilizations, and Virginia Masters, who didn’t actually invent sex, but researched it with Dr. Johnson. They weren’t into in-vitro.
Two Temptations died last year. Richard Street and Damon Harris harmonized in that Motown group. Van Cliburn was a piano phenomenon, and was almost a household name – not bad for a classical pianist.
Next week we’ll wrap up the 2013 list of celebrity demises. I hope. Doing this list each year makes me not take things for granted!
Long-time readers may recall that at the start of each new year I like to reflect on people of note who have gone along to their great reward — being optimistic, since the warmer place is a possibility. This year I’m starting with show business sorts – mostly actors and musicians.
As I have somehow managed to survive into my sixth decade, I’m finding that too many of the people who passed away last year were either much younger than I, or were fixtures throughout my life. Both groups lead me to consider my mortality, which I’d rather not. The young ones tend to die of lifestyle-related factors, while the older folks just got old. Their lifestyles may have been factors too, of course, but not as dramatically.
For instance, young Paul Walker, who made a fortune starring in movies about driving recklessly, died in a car that may have been driven recklessly. Cory Monteith of “Glee” fame succumbed to drugs or depression or both. Lisa Robin Kelly, who played the older sister on “That 70’s Show” was freed from her life of substance abuse while at a rehab facility.
Country singer Mindy McCready ended her life after deciding she couldn’t live without her boyfriend, who had ended his life a few months prior. She left two kids under ten.
Some people who were important to me, each in their own way, included Marcia Wallace (no relation) who was Carol the receptionist in the “Bob Newhart Show,” and Edna Krabapple in “The Simpsons.” Jean Stapleton was a great actress, known best for her portrayal of Edith Bunker in “All In The Family.”
Annette Funicello was a teen hottie, but before that, a Mouseketeer. In the beach movies she was always sexy, but not sexual, and drove Frankie Avalon crazy. Bonnie Franklin drove me crazy, but not in a good way. Her claim to fame for me was starring as Valerie Bertinelli’s mother on “One Day At A Time.”
James Gandolfini was Tony Soprano on screen, but apparently a warm and wonderful man in real life. Allan Arbus played Sidney Freedman the psychiatrist on “MASH.” His character is what every therapist should be. Dennis Farina was a detective on “Law and Order,” taking over for Jerry Orbach who died just a few years ago.
In the music world, in addition to Mindy McCready, Richie Havens passed away, as did “Doors” piano player Ray Manzarek, who – in my opinion – was the musical soul of that group. His playing on the song “Riders on the Storm” holds up very well.
Patty Andrews of “The Andrews Sisters” died last year, as did Jeff Hanneman, guitarist from “Slayer.” I don’t imagine they were friends. Lou Reed was a rock sub-culture icon, and Bobby Bland was a blues artist who played in a group with B.B. King back in the day.
George Jones was a long-time country star. Phil Ramone was a music producer who worked with many greats, including Madonna, Barbara Streisand, Frank Sinatra, and Paul McCartney.
Comedian Jonathan Winters also passed on last year. Many comedians of his era and since say he was the funniest human ever born, and virtually invented comic improvisation, working without a net on live TV.
Getting a handle on the scope of things is a challenge, and I’m not sure many people have the capacity to fully comprehend the universe and our place in it. And I even wonder about those people, having read that some think the universe isn’t real, but only a large hologram. It could be that all theories are just that: educated guesses.
As I have it figured, we’ve got the universe (note that I used the singular), within which our galaxy (The Milky Way – also a wonderful candy bar) exists, and within that our solar system, planet, continent, country, state, County, etc.
So, here we are. People, made up of cells, which are made up of atoms, which are made up of neutrons, protons, and electrons, which are made of quirks and quarks. I tend to be over-endowed with quirks.
I guess, then, that I’m a citizen of the state, country, world, and universe, and the quirks and atoms and molecules in me are citizens of me. While what I do has little impact on the universe, what my individual little bits do may impact me, but they do it without my awareness.
Likewise, what we do in our town or village or city happens with the help of, or in spite of what happens at the state and national level. Our nation is affected by what happens globally, and in the case of alien invasions or meteors, by the solar system, galaxy, and universe.
But, just as my molecules and cells are busy doing their work if I am having a personal crisis of some sort, the people in a town keep doing what they do when there are crises in their state. Washington, D.C. may be really screwed-up, but despite that, we and our fellow citizens and all our component parts just keep working away.
I picture an old fashioned mechanical watch. The mechanism turns the hands of the watch to the right time, but only because of the constant motion of a dozen geared wheels working behind the scenes. We’re the wheels. And, you can bend the hands of the watch, or mess up the numbers, but we wheels just keep working away until the watch is destroyed or runs out of energy.
We, like the tiniest little sprockets in a watch, or the little quirks and quarks in our bodies, are both totally insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but we, and they, are also instrumental in making things happen.
As big wheels revolve around millions or billions of suns, and “big wheels” in Washington and Madison spin in their orbits, we’ve got our towns and families to turn within.
The earth has just about reached the start-finish line for the four and a half-billionth time, and another year is about to start. Life and death, beginnings and endings, and turning in the circles that make it all happen – inside us and outside of us – are what make up the world, and the solar system, and the galaxy, and the universe.
So, if you were feeling overly important or totally insignificant, you’re right, and you’re wrong. Just keep doing what you do in 2014. Happy New Year! See you ‘round.
There has been a lot of talk about privacy over the past few years. People on the left and the right have questioned the increasing nosiness of various government agencies. Companies like Google and Facebook have also been cavalier with our privacy in their efforts to profit from our information.
There is a different kind of privacy, though. It’s the kind we wish other people would take more seriously. In other words, there is such a thing as too much information.
For starters, people share things about their private lives on television all day long, between the “judge shows,” and the “he slept with my husband’s mother’s hooker” shows. Reality TV shows are pretty contrived, but there’s generally something way too personal exposed during the course of the hour.
People on Facebook and Twitter have famously shared too much, including information that has led to getting fired, not getting hired, or even getting arrested. Also, for some reason people seem to have come to the conclusion that it’s a good idea to photograph themselves in compromising or unclothed situations in order to share them on-line. I think the internet needs to close the curtains.
Another astonishing social phenomenon is people having loud phone conversations about very private topics. You have my sympathy if you’re having a digestive or sexual problem, or if your boyfriend has been losing or gaining interest in you. It’s none of my business.
Within the past week I’ve experienced two very awkward situations. In one, a young woman near me on the train was describing in great detail the physical interaction she and her husband/boyfriend had enjoyed the night before. The other incident involved someone having a phone conversation with a very troubled friend – so troubled that she was crying – unaware that she was using the speaker phone feature of her phone. So, I heard both sides of a very personal conversation.
I wonder if this fading of decorum in the sharing of personal information started with television ads for women’s hygiene products, erectile dysfunction pills, and medications with side effects that include leakage from parts of the body that aren’t supposed to leak.
I understand that it’s not healthy to be “closed up” and unable to talk about certain personal topics, but I’d be a lot more comfortable if people would save those conversations for people who they actually know. It’s like underwear: I don’t care if you’re wearing it or not, as long as I don’t know.
Perhaps these changes in society are perfectly normal, as is the deterioration of my hearing and vision as I get older. I guess that will work.
Where do I start? Every time I listen to the radio, pick up a newspaper, watch television, or look at news sites on the internet, my stomach tightens up, and my brain starts balking like a 1973 Ford Maverick.
First, the lava chamber that sits under Yellowstone National Park, when it erupts, will wipe out the United States. Merry Christmas. Scientists have determined that the last time she blew, the entire country was covered with ash and lava flows. It could happen today, or in 100,000 years, which means about the same thing in geologic time. Talk about your climate change!
Second, a 16 year-old boy was sentenced to probation after killing four people while driving drunk. The reason? “Affluenza,” which means being raised by affluent parents who didn’t teach him about boundaries in his behavior. Did you hear my brain backfire just now?
Third, it snowed in Cairo, Egypt for the first time in 100 years last week. Israel had a snowstorm too. At least they have that in common.
Fourth, a ten year-old boy was suspended for pretending to shoot an imaginary arrow with an imaginary bow. My brain’s oil light just went on.
Fifth, an 18 year-old attacked his 21 year-old brother with a medieval two-bladed axe after being told to pipe down while playing a video game. So many questions about this one. No good answers.
Sixth, a Lakewood, Colorado baker has been ordered to bake a same-sex wedding cake against his wishes and beliefs, or go to jail. Apparently there aren’t any gay-friendly bakers in Colorado. I wonder if I’d even want a cake baked by a baker who didn’t want to bake it.
Seventh, a large advertisement in New York City seems to be recruiting people to become atheists during this Christmas season. That’s ironic, since most atheists seem to hate it when religious people evangelize them. It’s almost like atheism is becoming a religion. Hmmm… brain is overheating now.
Eighth, two million X-Boxes were sold in two weeks. During that same time thousands of people signed up for Obama Care. In a possibly unrelated story, a man applied for a college coaching job based on his excellent achievements playing the Madden Football video game.
Ninth, the lovely and mystical tradition of Advent calendars with little doors for kids to open each day has been co-opted by the Wisconsin Lottery. I know lottery tickets are a hot gift item for Christmas, but I’m not sure it feels right to me any more than a Christmas Eve trip to the race track to bet on the horses.
Tenth, where is my belt? The one I wear with my jeans. And, for that matter, where’s the new one I bought last month at Menards? How can two belts – not small ones, I’m sad to say – disappear in the same week? I’m tired of hitching up my pants every five minutes.
And that, my friends, is the view from here. My stomach is a little less knotted, and my brain hasn’t exploded yet, so thanks for listening. It was very therapeutic to share with you.
I have a vague memory of a children’s story about two mice. One lived in the city, and the other in the country. I know it sounds like a fascinating tale (not tail), but if I remember right, it was a study in contrasts between rural and urban life.
A few weeks ago I spent several days in Philadelphia and New York City. Sometimes my job takes me to such places, and I mostly enjoy the change of pace from my typical country mouse week at home.
My first day involved flying to Philadelphia, and catching a train from the airport to a stop near my first meeting. After walking a few blocks, I met the people for a very good conversation. Then it was time to go to my next meeting. It was about a mile, and it was a nice day, so I walked.
A few wrong turns later, I finally got to the right building and had another good meeting. As it turned out, my hotel was only six blocks away, so trod over, checked in, did some work, and then went to dinner not too far away.
The next day I walked a mile to the Amtrak station, and boarded the train to Manhattan. That morning I got an email saying that the main person I was scheduled to meet with had to cancel, so I had plenty of time to walk to the first meeting, which was a little more than a mile. Walking in New York City is a great way to experience the different neighborhoods, and while I don’t know a lot about New York neighborhoods, I felt I was in safe territory during daylight, so it wasn’t too stressful.
When I got to the second appointment, it turned out that the person mistakenly thought I was coming the next week, and she didn’t have time to meet. Zero for two. But, fortunately, her colleagues were able to meet, and it was a very good and very worthwhile discussion.
During my walk back to Penn Station, I realized that my feet were killing me. But, I hobbled onto the train for my trip back to Philly and found a seat. After all that walking it felt good to sit down. We pulled into Philly, and I figured since my feet already hurt, I might as well walk back to the hotel – another mile or so. It was dark by then, and a little misty. That might help explain me falling onto the street while stepping off a curb. The embarrassment and ankle sprain took some of my attention away from my massive heel blisters.
That night I discovered that there was a very large and popular club across the street from my hotel, and even though I was on the 12th floor, and the windows were closed, the dance rhythms pounded with great monotony until closing time at 2am. Even if my feet had been feeling great, I’m not a “club” kind of guy. So, I stayed in bed and turned up the TV to try to mask the sound.
Then the various late night sirens of emergency vehicles chorused around the area, lulling me to sleep.
When I got home the next day, there was something I hadn’t experienced in three days: quiet. Calm and quiet. Then on Sunday, there was beautiful, soft, quiet snowfall to watch. Cold and slippery too, of course, but very beautiful.
I enjoy the energy of big cities. Manhattan in particular vibrates with energy, and Philly vibrates with sound late at night. However, I think maybe I’ve become more of a country mouse over the years. I realized that at around 2am the other night when my heartbeat had become synchronized with the primal beat of a drum machine 12 stories below. I don’t know for a fact, but I think the city mice may have a problem with insomnia.
Elton John sang a great, sad song about how “sorry seems to be the hardest word.” I think there is a lot of truth in that song, and in the difficulty of making a sincere, heart-felt apology.
The last few weeks, and really the years before, there have been a lot of apologies from many well-known people. As a true cynic once said, it’s hard to be sure if they were saying they were sorry for what they did, or that they were caught doing it. Since nobody can see into their souls, I guess we’ll never know.
The Toronto mayor, Rob Ford, has made a lot of apologies in the past few weeks. His apologies seem to be laced with excuses, like how he only used crack cocaine because he was really drunk. Oh, well that explains it. No problem!
Our president apologized for people having misunderstood him when he made promises about the Affordable Care Act. He didn’t apologize for lying, and in reality, it’s possible he didn’t know the law well enough to know what he was saying wasn’t true. After all, then House Speaker Pelosi said we’d have to pass the bill in order to find out what was in it. THAT was a rare moment of Washington honesty.
CNN’s Martin Bashir, ostensibly a journalist, observed that someone should defecate on Sarah Palin in response to a comment she made which, by the way, was one a person could take issue with, but Bashir’s comment was a bit rude. He apologized unequivocally, to his credit.
Alec Baldwin lost his fledgling TV show after another explosion at a photographer. It was another gay slur, apparently. He is sorry.
Republican Congressman Trey Radel of Florida made the mistake of buying cocaine from a federal agent. Whoops! He apologized to everyone, and said he was ready to face the consequences for his actions.
Comedian Dimitri Martin says that “I’m sorry” and “I apologize” mean the same thing, except in the receiving line at a funeral home visitation. That typifies the range of what saying you’re sorry means. Many apologies are conditional and either say, or suggest, that we’re sorry that the other person is unhappy, and not so much for what we did. A true apology is about what you’ve done.
Newt Gingrich and John Edwards both “stepped out” on ailing wives. That’s pretty bad, and both apologized. Bill Clinton apologized after denying his guilt. Ditto for Lance Armstrong. I’m not sure that Charlie Sheen ever really apologized for his behavior, which is kind of refreshing.
The best apology I ever got was from a Jewish acquaintance on the Day of Atonement. She called me from out of state to apologize for a wrong that I wasn’t really aware of, or at least didn’t remember. I gained a lot of respect for her, and I imagine her conscience was cleared as well.
Here’s what makes an apology mean something: whatever you did, stop it! Don’t do it again! Take responsibility and take the punishment. If you did something stupid when you were drunk, don’t get drunk again. If you did something wrong because you need help, get help!
Despite Elton John’s song, sorry is really a pretty easy word to say. It’s altogether a different word, though, if you actually mean it.
Have you ever noticed that you can see something a number of times before you really see it? I had an experience like that the other day. A commercial came on for Progressive Insurance. It’s the fairly scary one in which some nice folks are driving their car, when suddenly people start clinging to the outside of it, including the windshield.
Those people, according to the commercial, are “rate-suckers,” because they make insurance rates go up. But, if you use Progressive’s gizmo that plugs into your car’s dashboard, and if you drive sanely, you’ll earn lower rates. In other words, actuaries have determined that how you behave can affect your potential risk of having an accident, and using that insurance.
Simple enough. But wait! The founder of Progressive Insurance didn’t choose that name by accident. I’ve read that he is a true “progressive,” and a big supporter of our president.
So, keeping with the premises of the Affordable Care Act, Progressive Insurance should require that everybody have the same coverage at the same cost, irrespective of driving history, arrests, or other behaviors.
Okay, I admit that that’s a stretch, but the point remains that just as the “rate-suckers” in the commercial cause rates to go higher, people with higher health risks, like pre-existing conditions, smoking, obesity, family histories, drug use, etc., also cause higher rates, if we’re lumped in together with them.
I went to an informational talk by an insurance agent last week. He explained much about the Affordable Care Act that I hadn’t heard before. For instance, all qualified insurance plans must cover things like pediatric dental care and eyeglasses. Plans must cover maternity. Plans must also not take into account pre-existing conditions or medical history.
So, if I were a 60 year-old man with no particular medical problems, I’d still be required to buy a policy that covers maternity, and pediatric dental and eye care, along with many other things I wouldn’t need.
In other words, the price I pay has little to do with my needs or my health risks, but more to do with the “common good” for people who may need those services.
To be clear, I agree with the insurance agent who said that the pre-existing conditions problem has to be resolved. Wisconsin has had a plan for such people, and I’m sure other states do too, but I’m guessing that much more help is needed for people who have been uninsurable. I’m not sure the ACA approach is what I would have taken, however.
It’s also true that a person can choose not to drive a car, but we can’t choose not to have a body that will eventually need care – some of it pretty expensive. So, the comparison isn’t entirely fair, but the math is inescapable. I’m not that good at math, but the folks at Progressive Insurance are, so let’s not pretend to be surprised at how much our rates for health insurance are going to go up. Just ask Flo.
If you think about it, every situation is a life or death situation. Fortunately, most situations skew towards the “life” side of the equation, or the planet would be feeling pretty empty.
Last week a couple of situations occurred, and while they weren’t related, I couldn’t help but find some common ground between them, or at least a connection.
The first situation involved a young woman whom I had never met, but who is the friend of a friend. This person had many obstacles to happiness in her life, but seemed to be handling them, and in fact, looking forward to a new job.
My friend returned home from a trip to find that this woman was in the process of committing suicide while house sitting for her, and was unconscious. A week later she died.
Suicide is the ultimate personal decision, and it’s one that is very hard to understand for all but those who see it as a viable option to living. There is a tremendous sadness to a life ending in that way, and even though I didn’t know her, I too feel a sense of loss… of senseless loss.
The second situation revolved around a memorial ceremony at a church, celebrating the lives and mourning the deaths of people from that parish, including my father-in-law who died in June.
It was a very nice service, and was followed by a visit to the cemetery in that early evening, where candles were made available to be placed near the graves of loved ones. The cemetery was alive – and I use that term aware of the contradiction – with the soft voices and flickering lights of dozens of family members and others who gathered to visit the gravesides. It was less sad than I would have thought, and more meaningful than I would have dreamed.
During the church service itself, the priest talked about thinking of departed friends and family when we feel and hear an autumn wind, a cold winter night, a warm spring day, and a hot summer afternoon. For some reason, those words really resonated with me, having experienced all of those time with my father-in-law over the 37 years that I knew him. The autumn wind reference was especially poignant to me, remembering raking leaves with him, or “putting the garden away” for the year during cloudy, cold November days.
How we live and how we die are both much more important than we know. Most of us don’t control how we die, but we have a lot to say about how we live, and about the memories we will leave behind for the All Saints Day ceremony our loved ones will attend someday. Leaving a legacy sounds awfully ambitious, but I’ll remember that even a cool wind can somehow warm a person when good memories come to life.
This past weekend I took a leap into the 2010’s (even though we’re in the 20-teens) by upgrading to a “smart” phone. This is a misnomer, unless the meaning is intended to be that the phone is smarter than I am.
I like to think that I’m marginally on top of things, which is clearly delusional. I’ve seen plenty of people use smart phones, poetically whisking their fingers across the smooth glass screens, magically determining the weather forecast, the score of a game, or the average annual rainfall in Mexico City (32.1 inches, if you wondered).
And yet, when I took my new phone in my hands, nothing seemed easy. The true humiliation came Monday morning when I actually got a phone call, and had no idea how to answer it. I called myself a couple of times in order to figure it out.
You may be thinking, “gee, Peter is not very bright.” I’m not in a position to argue the point, but in my defense, as of this very moment, the manual and instructions that came with the phone are still sealed in plastic. Unlike many people who read everything that comes with a new device before even turning it on, I’m of the school of thought that figuring things out is less tedious than reading about how to do things. I’m not saying that’s a good approach, but it usually works out okay… in time.
I’m astounded by all the things my new phone can do. It will take a while to get used to how big it is, though. The case I was persuaded to buy to protect my phone is formidable. I’m pretty sure that it will survive most anything that would kill me, which will allow me to leave my phone for the next generation. The case has a big clip so as to allow me to wear my phone on my belt which, if I remember correctly, is extremely un-cool. In other words, I should feel free to do so, as any claim I might have had to being cool has been debunked several paragraphs ago.
As you probably know, current phones have the ability to take a picture of someone else, but also to take a picture of yourself. A “selfie,” as it’s called. I don’t like than name any more than I liked “warm fuzzy” back in the 70’s.
When I was trying to figure things out on Saturday, I inadvertently selected the camera that faces the phone holder, and since I hadn’t shaved in four or five days, I actually frightened myself when my picture showed up on the screen. Not a pretty sight.
The best news is that, at least until the imbedded in our brains microchips are available, I’ve bitten the proverbial bullet, and am now keeping up with mobile technology. Phew! And, since the phone has a very large memory, perhaps it will help compensate for the growing deficit of memory in my brain. Now, what were we talking about?
Have you heard the shocking statistic that one in five children in America goes to bed hungry? If it is true, that’s awful. No child should experience that.
While looking up something else today, I stumbled on a Forbes Magazine article from 2011 that challenges the statistic. It’s by Paul Roderick Gregory, and can be found at http://www.forbes.com.
He talks about “folklore statistics;” numbers that are repeated endlessly, but which aren’t necessarily correct. Specifically, he talks about the childhood hunger issue. Without repeating his article, here are some facts from the USDA reports on which the one in five number is based:
• USDA calls households “food secure,” “food insecure,” and “very food insecure.” Food insecure households worry about not having money to buy food, substitute cheaper foods, skip meals, or eat less. If this happens a lot, they are very food insecure.
• 21% of households are food insecure.
• That figure includes adult-only households. Taking them out of the mix, 10% of households with children are food insecure.
• Other USDA stats say 1/10th of 1 % of children did not eat for a whole day.
• Weekly spending on food by the median “food insecure” household is 95% of the cost of the USDA Thrifty Food Plan – the minimum cost of an affordable, healthy diet.
• 30% of all children receive free school lunches.
So, maybe 1 in 5 children aren’t hungry after all. Nobody should be hungry, but in July, 101 million
people – nearly a third of the US population – was receiving subsidized food assistance from the government, not to mention the huge private contributions to food charities like food banks. It’s hard to imagine that people are still hungry, but maybe that’s just my personal good fortune talking. In my view, solving a problem like childhood hunger starts with looking at the problem honestly.
I thought it would be interesting to look at some other “one in five” statistics, which may, or may not be accurate, but which are surely interesting, and many of them are disturbing:
• One in five people experience a mental illness or an addiction every year. (Dalhousie University, Canada)
• Almost 1 in 5 patients in the ICU’s of a major teaching hospital got treatment that was futile or “probably” futile. (UCLA research)
• Nearly 1 in 5 women surveyed said they had been raped or had experienced an attempted rape. (CDC)
• Currently 1 in 5 U.S. adults has at least one tattoo. (Harris Interactive)
• One in five Americans have dyslexia. (www.explore1in5.org)
• The fastest growing “religious” group in America is people with no religion at all. (CNN)
• Nearly 1 in 5 Americans see retirement is an unattainable goal. (CBS News)
• One in five Americans live in high traffic pollution areas. (Natural Resources Defense Council)
• One in five Americans lack any broadband access. (Technology Review)
• Nearly one in five Americans have a disability. (US Census)
• One in five Americans die from obesity. (Science Daily)
• One in five Americans will develop skin cancer. (www.skincancer.org)
• One in five Americans will be affected by hearing loss. (www,dailymotion.com)
• One in five Americans has an anger management problem. (UC Davis)
• One in five Americans have allergies. (UCLA )
• One in five Americans think the sun revolves around the earth. (Gallup)
Considering that you undoubtedly know five people, you may look at them very differently from now on… not to mention yourself!
Situation comedies on television have often relied on the family as a source for humor, and, having lived in a family my whole life, I can say with certainty that there is much to laugh at in the day-to-day operation of a family. Or, at least in our case it has been so.
Television families aren’t real, and they are expected to provide hilarity at a rapid clip, filling a half-hour with mirth, leaving just enough time for 8 minutes or so of commercials. Mostly the father is an idiot in modern sitcoms, the mother is way more attractive than that husband would expect to have married, and the kids are smart-mouthed to the extent that they wouldn’t have survived life under my parents’ roof.
Thinking back, with the help of the TV channels that offer very old re-runs, the family comedy has changed a lot since 1960. Robert Young starred in “Father Knows Best,” and despite the title, his best efforts aside, he didn’t always know best. But, he was wise, and understanding, and trusted his children to do what was right when faced with obstacles.
That father had the ability to lead by example, to encourage, and to learn from his children. Despite all that substance, the show was still funny. It was never dirty, or even suggestive.
Another show from that era was “Bachelor Father,” starring John Forsythe, later to be heard as the voice of Charlie on “Charlie’s Angels,” and on the prime time soap opera “Dynasty.” “Bachelor Father” is about a ladies’ man lawyer who adopts a niece who, apparently, has been orphaned. She is a high school girl, and much of the humor comes from his lack of experience with adolescents.
He has a Chinese butler/cook who helps him try to solve parenting problems as the come up. The “father” in this show is often dressed to the nines and going on dates with beautiful women. That was a time when un-married men weren’t necessarily considered to be gay. It was also a time when “gay” meant cheerful.
The bumbling of the two men in “Bachelor Father” brought the laughs we seek from sitcoms, but there were also touching moments and as in “Father Knows Best,” the father figures learned as much as the child. To my knowledge is was the first show about a family that wasn’t traditional. It was the first of many.
Some new situation comedies about family are really very good, though much different in the areas of suggestive, or overtly sexual humor. Some comedies are, in my opinion, horrible, and poorly written for cheap laughs. And maybe worst of all, they have nothing positive to offer. I like to laugh, but I also like to feel that perhaps my sense of humanity has grown a bit after watching TV.
“The Simpsons” and “Family Guy” get a pass from me, since they are clearly caricatured cartoons of absurdity. I understand people who find them offensive, and can’t deny it, but as an adult – mostly – I get a kick out of them. Interestingly, a number of years ago “The Simpsons” was identified by a group which rates such thing as being the highest in family values of all TV comedies, partly because every show really does have a moral of the story.
So, that’s what I have to say about TV comedy families. I’m glad to have the really old shows to remind me of a simpler, more respectful time. But, I’m not planning to wear a sports coat to do work around the house anytime soon.
Some of the metal is rusted beyond recognition. A lot of the metal consists of nails – many of them old square nails. One large gear and an angle iron spoke of machinery and building.
Peter Wallace Writes 
