#142 - When Explanations Fail

The world is a crazy place these days. Perhaps it has always been so, and we just weren’t aware of how crazy the world really was until we launched into the continuous 24-hour news cycle in which we now live.

Case in point: A Florida man is dead, another Florida man is in jail as a result of a shooting in a movie theater apparently caused by texting. As the story was reported, the dead man was shot after he refused to stop texting during the screening of a movie preview – not even the movie, mind you. The apparent fact that he was texting his three-year old daughter was not enough to keep the alleged gunman, a retired police officer, from pulling the trigger.

After reading the story on BBC News, several thoughts ran through my mind, most of them having nothing to do with gun control or the debate that is sure to start anew with some in the wake of the shooting.

Instead, my first set of questions is: Would this have played out differently, say, five or ten years ago? While texting has been around a while, it is only in the last several years that is has become widespread to the point where laws are now enacted in states banning texting while driving. Prior to the advent of texting, people might have been asked to lower their voices if talking during a film or a preview, but would they have been shot if they failed to comply?

My second set of questions: What in the world was a three-year old even doing with a cell phone, presumably how she was receiving the texts? Was it her cell phone – if so, why does a three-year old need, let alone have a cell phone? Was it the babysitter’s phone? If so, why was the father texting to that number?

My third set of questions: Have we become so cocooned in our technology that we no longer recognize or worse, no longer care when our actions negatively affect another person? Have we reached a point of being so hostile to authority that we ignore rules we don’t care for? (Presumably at some point before the movie previews began, the ubiquitous request to turn off cell phones went up on the screen.) Perhaps in this instance, the shooter and victim took their cues from the dysfunctional hostility that passes for government these days in Washington, DC.

My last set of questions hit a little closer to home for me: Who is going to tell the three-year old daughter, now without a father, what happened? How will she grow up? How will she cope without her father? Although the circumstances were different, my father went out of my life at age five, not so far removed from age three. I was not told then or later what actually happened. I only finally heard a story that made sense nearly 50 years later. In between, I had no explanation and had to guess.

I don't know what those closest to her will tell this little girl or when, but they should make sure they don’t wait forever. Whatever they tell her, it is going to hurt. But not knowing hurts a lot more.

#141 - Shock and Awe

I saw on the CNN website that the so-called “Tiger Mom” had come out with a new book. “Tiger Mom,” for those who don’t remember, is Amy Chua, the Yale Law School professor whose “Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom” was seen as claiming that Chinese parents (and by extension their children) are the best and also as advocating a very strict style of parenting. The book at the time caused a huge debate over parenting and child-rearing.

Chua’s new book, “The Triple Package,” co-written with her Jewish husband alleges that certain groups are superior and that the rest are contributing to the cultural and economic decline in America. The merits or lack thereof surrounding Chua’s book are beyond this post as I have not read the book and likely will not do so anytime soon. However, the news that such a book had come out reminded me of the old tactics of saying something for its inherent shock value and also of saying something “to get a rise” out of someone.

Both are things most of us have done at one time or another over the course of our lives. Speaking for shock value is something many outgrow by the time they become adults. Others at least reduce their tendency to try and shock. Saying something “to get a rise” out of someone is usually only done on occasion and is even done to sometimes make a point.

Then there are those who never seem to outgrow this desire to shock and awe, as it were. Chua may or may not fall into this category; I will leave that conclusion to those who have read her books. If, however, she does fall into that group, I can’t imagine she would conclude that those with whom she would share such a classification are doing much to effect the cultural and/or economic advancement of America.

From where I sit, such a group would include Howard Stern and Rush Limbaugh. Both may have entertainment value for some people, but neither as far as I can see is doing much in the way of being uplifting. Stern is perhaps the original “shock jock” of radio. He certainly perfected and came to embody the term. Limbaugh could be argued to have taken the “shock jock” classification to the next level, going beyond the desire to shock simply for the sake of making people uncomfortable to trying to shock people in order to make them angry, either in support of or in opposition to whatever viewpoint he espouses.

I don’t listen to or care for either Howard Stern or Rush Limbaugh. I don’t find Stern funny or provocative, merely juvenile and offensive. I also don’t find Limbaugh thought-provoking or insightful, merely hateful and divisive. The former viewpoint comes from having lived long enough to be exposed to a variety of humor styles, from one-liners (Henny Youngman and Milton Berle) to racy and controversial (Redd Foxx and Richard Pryor) to topical and insightful (George Carlin). I don’t find Stern to be good or funny in any of these.

My views regarding Rush Limbaugh come from my own political leanings, which I describe as being slightly left of center. However, I don’t think any but the most myopic of people can consider Rush as anything but divisive. The clips I’ve heard in the past seem to me in no way intended to unite or bring people together in this country. Talk radio hosts from both sides of the political spectrum, the new “shock jocks,” could be considered equally to blame for this division in America if not for the fact that the so-called “liberal media” in America features far more such programming from the right than from the left.

Regardless of whether mainstream media is liberal, I see little call from either end of the political spectrum for collaboration, cooperation, or compromise. I believe that in ability to at least occasionally meet in the middle, Amy Chua’s arguments notwithstanding, is what is truly contributing to the cultural and economic decline of America.

#140 - BFF (Best Friends Forever) or BFFN (Best Friends For Now) – Thoughts on Friendship

As we begin 2014, my 58^th on this planet (God, am I really that old?), I find myself doing some looking back and reflecting. I don’t know if that because looking back and reflecting is something many people do as they end one year and prepare to begin the next or because I am simply “at that age.” Regardless of the reason, I’m doing it.

Of course, for me, looking back at the past and reflecting on it is nothing new; it is something I’ve done quite a bit over the years. Some of those around me would likely argue I spend too much time dwelling on my past, and they would like be correct. However, there is one area of my past I’ve never spent as much time thinking about, and that is the friendships I’ve been part of over the years.

Perhaps that is because I’ve never considered myself as someone who has had a great many friends in my life. I’m not an easy person to get to know, and I may be an even harder person to get to like; I’ll let my friends (if any are still speaking to me after this) reflect on that. Still, I have had some meaningful friendships in my life, as well as some meaningful gaps in friendship.

The first real friend I remember having was George. George and I were best friends in elementary school for three years. Before we met, I don’t really remember having any friends; there was constantly trouble at home, and I put a great deal of energy into simple survival. There was a girl named Marsha that I played with, but I don’t remember us really being friends, although to this day I still remember her full name, the fact that she had blond hair, and that she wore blue horn-rimmed glasses. Not to mention that she was as tough as any of the boys.

George and I became friends when my mother, my sister, and I moved back into town from the small former mining community in which we had lived. The town was Rosamond, California. It wasn’t really notable for anything, except its relative proximity to Edwards Air Force Base. In the late 1960s, the town made a few headlines because of the uproar over the fact that the new north-south freeway (now known as the Antelope Valley Freeway) being built was possibly by-passing Rosamond, with the nearest on and off ramps set to be located several miles away in either direction. (We moved north before construction was completed, and the plans appear to have later been changed.)

George and I remained friends through fourth, fifth, and sixth grades. I don’t remember ever going to his house or him coming to mine, but we spent all of our free time at school together. We ate lunch together, cut up together, got in trouble together. I remember him having a flat-top haircut, a fairly popular cut for boys in those days.

We were thick as thieves, until the day in 1968 when my aunt loaded my sister and I into her Pontiac station wagon and moved us north to Seattle. (My mother would join us several months later.) We promised to stay in touch and did, in fact, trade a couple of letters, but by the start of 1969, the childhood friendship was over, victim of a trait I have been known to exhibit throughout my life, a failure to follow through and a willingness to cut ties and move on.

After another move a few miles south to Kent, Washington, I made a new best friend, one with whom I would navigate some of the difficult waters known as high school. Wally and I spent a lot of time together in the five years we were in junior high and high school. I don’t remember a lot from those days, as I continued to have my own battles for sanity and survival at home. But I do remember us walking through downtown Kent with two other friends in the dead of night, looking (unsuccessfully as I recall) from some place to get a pizza. I also remember one Fourth of July, one of the few times Wally came out to my house (we lived on the outskirts of town, a mile or so from the nearest residential neighborhoods), when he nearly blew off his fingers when a firecracker with a short fuse went off just as he was throwing it. My right ear rang for three days.

When we graduated from high school, Wally and I drifted apart, each of us off to different colleges. I saw him again a few years later when I received a surprise wedding invitation, then lost track again for a number of years until I talked him into attending a high school reunion. (I still don’t know if he’s forgiven me for that.) I think of us as still friends, though we have each built our adult lives separate from one another and have little contact with another aside from the occasional e-mail or Facebook post.

It would be another ten years before I formed any new close friendships, each lasting a few years at most. I’ve heard it said from time to time that people come into your life for a reason then leave when that reason is no longer valid or that need is no longer present. Looking back from this stage of my life, I can see that is probably true. The few friends I had growing up provided a lifeline that helped save me from the continual turmoil I felt in the family home.

Oddly enough, though, I suspect technology has altered that philosophy and will continue to alter the nature of how friendships build and are maintained. Case in point: fast-forward to 2008. I was taking a job with a grocery chain in its division office. The person coming in to train was the person whose place I was taking. She was not retiring or leaving the job voluntarily; she simply had no desire to move out of state. What could have been awkward turned into something special as we developed a rapport born out of humor, simply political views, and experiences to which the other person could relate.

Heidi and I have been what I consider best friends ever since, despite the fact that we have only seen each other on three separate occasions in the intervening five and a half years. A friendship such as ours would have been difficult, to say the least, five years ago. It would have been impossible, I suspect, before that. Technology has made our friendship possible and has allowed it to thrive.

Most of our friendship has played out via e-mail. I suspect we both communicate better through writing (I know I do), and I feel able to say things I might not otherwise share if not for e-mail. In the past, some of those messages have been lengthy tomes, as one of us would be dealing with something painful, and the other would offer words of encouragement and support. Some of the messages have been no more than a line or two, asking the other if he or she had big weekend plans. They are the kinds of conversations friends have, only in writing and conveyed electronically rather than in person and face-to-face. In a way, I suppose our friendship harkens back to the heyday of pen pals except that our friendship via electronic correspondence might be likened to pen pals on steroids.

Life is sometimes referred to as a race, one long lap in which you strive toward the finish line and your place in the hereafter. With the advent of e-mail and especially Facebook, which have allowed me to build new friendships and reestablish old ones, I feel as if I am getting to run a second lap. Thanks to technology, I am not “living in the past,” as Jethro Tull once sand. Instead, I have brought my past into the present and have worked to balance then and now. The journey continues.

#139 - Goals and Hopes for the New Year (or is that the other way around?)

Since everyone else tends to make their New Year’s Resolutions and voices their goals for the coming year on either New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day, I thought I would buck the trend, being the procrastinator I am, and post my goals for the coming year on January 2. I will also share some of my hopes for 2014.

One of the hopes I have is that somehow, someway, people – especially those holding elective office – can find some way to return to some semblance of meaningful discussion and debate in 2014. Facebook and Twitter, while great for keeping in touch with family and long-lost friends and for spur of the moment comments and conversations, seriously suck as platforms for intelligent and meaningful discussion.

One line comments like “Obama is a socialist” or “Bush was a war criminal” or “[insert favorite topic/group to hate] should rot in Hell” do little to address issues facing our nation and the world as a whole and do even less to kick-start any meaningful conversation on said issues. One place to start this process would be to realize, as Thomas Merton wrote, that “no man is an island.” The actions of one city/state/nation do affect what happens in another city/state/nation, even if indirectly.

Nature does not recognize lines drawn on a map, and neither should we, at least not when it comes to environmental issues. If nothing else, we have to recognize and accept that what we do today will have an impact on tomorrow and that there is no way of predicting every possible outcome, especially if we only consider the immediate and short-term benefits.

Do I expect to see the quality of discourse and the level of civility reverse decades of decline in 2014? No, but a man can dream.

Another hope I have for 2014 is that the debate over gay marriage moves one step closer to being resolved once and for all. I think the tide started to turn in 2013, and I personally hope the momentum continues in the new year. I know there are those who argue that allowing gays to marry is an attack on traditional marriage and on traditional religious values, but I only see an attack on discrimination. As a heterosexual who has been married for 20 years, I’ve never understood how allowing two gay men or two gay women to marry threatened my marriage. There are plenty of other things that could threaten my marriage first, second, third, fourth, and so on, and gay marriage just doesn’t register on the list of potential threats.

I also don’t understand the religious argument against gay marriage. Some Christians say gay marriage goes against their beliefs. I accept that. However, their beliefs are their beliefs, not necessarily someone else’s. The Constitution forbids the establishment of a national religion, and imposing the beliefs of one group onto the nation as a whole goes against that. Of course, there are those clever wits who argue that the reverse is equally true. Not really. Whereas making the views of some opposing gay marriage the law of the land prevents some loving couples from marrying (much as earlier laws forbidding interracial marriage did), allowing gay marriage does not force two people of the same sex to marry one another.

To me, this is a Civil Rights fight, pure and simple. Of course, nothing is ever pure and simple in a nation of so many diverse peoples, cultures, and beliefs, so I expect this fight to continue for at least another few years. However, I think I will see gay marriage as legal in all 50 states in my lifetime.

Now that I’ve dealt with a few “political” topics, let me turn to some personal goals for 2014. In the coming year, I hope to take further steps toward improving my health. For me, that means continuing to improve the way I eat, lose some more weight, and – here comes that dreaded word – exercise. I have a few minor health issues to deal with first, namely some problems with my left shoulder, but I plan to begin working on this as soon as the doctors allow.

Even before the weather begins to warm, my mind is turning to thought of taking out our fifth-wheel. 2013 was a bit of a slow year for us in terms of getting out with the trailer, and my shoulder will keep us from getting off to a quick start with the RV in 2014. Still, I hope to improve on the number of nights we went out with the trailer in 2013. We have one trip booked so far and another one planned, so we are getting the ball rolling.

Going out with the RV allows me to do the only real exercise I enjoy – hiking. I want to do more of that in 2014 and perhaps find more hiking venues in and around Boise. Getting out of town with the RV also gets me closer to nature and, by extension, to God, and that is a good thing as it re-creates balance in my life. Although pronounced “rek-ree-ay-shun ,” recreation can also be seen as a re-creation of the self, and I certainly plan to approach it that way every chance I get this year.

My third goal for 2014 is to do a better job of staying in touch with friends and family. This blog gives me the opportunity to share with them and anyone who happens upon these pages what I’m thinking, feeling, and dealing with in-depth. I will work to make better and greater use of it this year. Facebook has been wonderful for helping me to reconnect with friends and family and has allowed me to engage in the banter that used to take place face-to-face. So I will continue to make use of that technological outlet. Twitter, not so much. One look at this blog should tell you that I would struggle with the 140-character limit on tweets imposed by Twitter. Only simple statements can made in short, simple sentences, and I don’t find those of much interest in terms of carrying on a conversation or a relationship.

The third outlet for staying in touch with friends and family comes courtesy of a cousin who, for several years, has graciously opened his home each summer for several days to a gathering of family and friends. My family and I have been lucky enough to attend the last two years and hope to do so again this year. Thanks, BJ!

Although there will, undoubtedly, be unforeseen things come up, the above list should be enough to keep me busy in 2014. May each of you also have a busy and productive year.

#138 - Looking Forward, Looking Back

New Year's Eve. The time of year when we traditionally look ahead and look back. As I get older, there is more to look back at and less to look ahead to simply because more of my life is now behind me. However, that doesn't me I don't still look ahead.

In the new year, I look forward to more opportunities to get out with our RV and perhaps find new places in which to enjoy nature. When I am out in nature, I feel myself closer to God. I hope to experience more of that in 2014.

In the coming year, I also hope to do more writing. Writing is a challenge for me sometimes. I'm good at it, and I have plenty of ideas on which to write. What I lack is discipline and focus. In 2014, I hope to find some of each.

I hope to start that process with this blog, hopefully becoming more consistently productive in terms of blog entries in 2014. One of the ways I hope to do that is by using this space to weigh in on various issues and topics. I have in the past shied away from writing on political matters here. That will likely end in 2014.

For some time, I have lamented the level of political discussion on Facebook. I have openly stated my assertion that Facebook is not the place for serious political discussion and is likely not an appropriate place for truly serious discussion of any issue. Twitter, because of its 140-character limit on each tweet, is even worse. Both are, to my mind, the 21st century technological equivalent of the 30-second soundbite. They might sound good, but they are not likely to give you the full story or even an in-depth look at any issue.

In the new year, I hope hope to do a better job of getting in touch with and of staying in touch with the people who have been a part of my journey to now. Facebook and this blog will, I hope, play a big part in fulfilling that desire. My cousin's annual get together of family and friends will also help, I suspect.

Those people, family and friends, some all but forgotten, were on my mind as I was writing these words. They were also on my mind when I wrote the words below, words with which I close this entry and 2013, words with which I embark on 2014. Happy New Year everyone!

My New Year's Wish

It's time to turn the clock again
Reflecting on the things we've done and hope to do
Another year has come and gone
Went by so fast, it seems as if the time just flew

More and more these days, I seem to find
Myself looking to another time
Filled with friends and memories in my mind

Here's to you -
Here's hoping that your dreams will all come true
I hope that you find joy in all you do
This is my New Year's wish for you

Looking back at all I have or had
I've come up short but learned to let go of regret
Remembering those who've shared this ride
Wish you were here but know that I will not forget

Along the way, each of you played a part
And your memory lives on in my heart
Long as it does, we'll never be apart

Here's to you -
Here's hoping that your dreams will all come true
I hope that you find joy in all you do
This is my New Year's wish for you

Time and distance separate us
We've had our bumps and bruises on the way
And while there may be things that I'd do different
I wouldn't trade a single day

Here's to you -
Here's hoping that your dreams will all come true
I hope that you find joy in all you do
This is my New Year's wish for you

I hope your dreams will all come true
This is my New Year's wish for you

2013. All rights reserved.

#137 - Thoughts on Faith, Spirituality, and Religion, Part Three

(This is the third and final part of a three-part series)

In August of 2008, I began training to take over the responsibilities of another person working in Utah. Over the course of that experience, and in the months that followed, she and I became friends. For my birthday that year, she sent me a book she said had really helped her spiritually. It would do the same for me.

The book was part one of the trilogy Conversations With God by Neale Donald Walsch. On the surface, a book in which the author claims to have actual conversations with God might sound like a delusional journey into hallucination or even schizophrenia. But something about the book resonated with me, and things that had made little sense before became clearer.

I got so much out of Part One, that I went on to read the remaining volumes in the trilogy. Part One is an intimate, one-on-one “conversation” with God focused mainly on the spirituality of the individual. Each succeeding volume broadens its scope and builds on the messages of the first. I later added another of the author’s books, one which helped me through the transition when I was laid off from that same job five years later.

As I read through the Conversations With God series, I began to get a better sense of what I felt and believed about God, about religion, and about spirituality. At about the same time, I rediscovered my love of camping or, at this stage of my life, RVing, and reconnected with the outdoors. The convergence of these things have helped me to develop a sense of what I believe.

I came to realize that, for me, a single church or even religion was too confining because each, while including some things and people, is in its own way built on its exclusiveness. You became Catholic or Jewish or Baptist, adopting the practices and beliefs of that religion and excluding or dismissing all others. To me, God is much bigger and much more inclusive that any single religion, even bigger and more inclusive than Christianity itself.

At the same time, my wife was undertaking her own re-evaluation, helped along through a revisiting of the teachings of the late Jesuit priest Anthony DeMello. As a result, I think we both ended up in much the same place in terms of what we believe.

So what do I believe? I’m still working that out, but my beliefs tend toward what is expressed in this Hindu saying: "There are hundreds of paths up the mountain, all leading in the same direction, so it doesn’t matter which path you take.  The only one wasting time is the one who runs around and around the mountain, telling everyone else that their path is wrong."

I believe there are many ways to find God, to experience God, to worship God, none better or worse than another. In the same way, I believe each religion and its corresponding holy text contains God’s truth, expressed in the way that makes sense to the culture in which that religion is practiced and the time frame in which that religion initially developed. Just as many different faiths, many far removed from Christianity, have their own versions of the Great Flood story, so too do many faiths have their own way of experiencing the divine, none of them better or more correct than any other.

I think perhaps the Founding Fathers and the authors of the U.S. Constitution had some sense of this idea. The First Amendment certainly expresses this notion when it states that "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof ...." Thomas Jefferson also seemed to follow the same lines when he wrote in 1802 that “religion is a matter which lies solely between man and his god, that he owes account to none other for his faith or his worship …”

As Jefferson infers, religion, faith, and spirituality are ultimately individual affairs. Belonging to a church or an organized religion may help some feel a sense of belonging, but it should not serve to exclude others because their church, their religion, their faith is different. For me, church and religion are too confining. I find God much bigger than that and find I am closest to God when I am closest to Nature, closest to creation itself.

As I wrote earlier, I believe God’s truth  can be found in the texts of multiple faiths. (I do not capitalize truth here as many religious writers do because I believe no one text has a monopoly on that truth.) Because of that, I hope to spend time in the coming year reading some of those texts or at least parts of those texts. I suspect I will find, as many before me have done, that there will be more similarities than differences. If I am right, then there may indeed be hope for the future, and hope is itself an expression of faith.

#136 - Thoughts on Faith, Spirituality, and Religion, Part Two

(This is part two of a three-part series)

In the spring and summer of 1984, I was a relatively young, relatively underpaid television reporter in Rapid City, South Dakota. I had just come out of my first serious relationship, and I was searching for something. A new co-worker, who was Catholic was leaving to attend a Sunday Mass, and for some reason, I asked if I could go with him.

At the time, there were several things that attracted me to Catholicism. First, it had been the faith of my family before I was born. Second, the structure and the ritual were appealing and comforting. I knew, in passing, the rector of the local cathedral, having interviewed him on several occasions. In addition, our sports director was also Catholic and as nice a man as I have ever met to this day. It was, in a religious sense, a perfect storm.

The  more I learned, the more I was attracted to Catholicism. So, in the fall of 1984, I began attending weekly classes with an eye toward conversion the following Easter. Formally known as the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA), a six-month period that culminates in joining the Church during the Easter Vigil Mass. In my case, the ceremony included a second step as I was formally baptized at the age of 28.

My mother was, to put it mildly, stunned. Her first words to me upon my arrival home for a visit were, “While you’re here, don’t preach.” She later said she thought I might end up a Unitarian but never imagined I’d become Catholic.

Back in Rapid City, I dove headlong into the Catholic experience, becoming a lector, helping with taking the weekly collection, going to the weekly coffee and donuts gatherings after Mass. If I had stayed in Rapid City, I might still be doing many of those same things today.

However, less than a year after becoming Catholic, I found myself moving south, to Alexandria, Louisiana.  My church experience here was different. While most of the people were friendly, I never really felt like I fit in, either here or in Lafayette, where I moved seven months later. The sense of family I had felt in those first heady months after becoming Catholic was gone.

After spending two years in Louisiana, the time had come to move again. I hadn’t fit in and hadn’t made many friends, being a bit more reserved than many in Louisiana or in television are. So I moved back north, to Kalispell, Montana to take a job as an announcer with a Christian radio station. The general manager introduced me to his pastor and got me involved with the singles group in his church. I attended Sunday services, but something felt wrong about it. I was used to the Catholic Communion, and the way it was conducted in this church felt like a pale imitation to me. So I began attending Mass again, though I felt out of place here as well. It seemed I still lacked a spiritual home.

One year after I moved to Kalispell, I moved again, back to Lafayette, Louisiana. After a few months, I took a job in Huntsville, Alabama and looked again for a church to call home. After a few attempts, I settled on a Catholic church in a nearby suburb. I again dove in, becoming a lector and joining the choir for 5:30 Mass. I also joined the singles group, where I met my future wife.

After a few years, by which time we had a son of our own, my wife and I moved to Illinois, where we both struggled to some extent to find our place spiritually. Five years after moving to Illinois, we moved again, following the advice of Horace Greeley and moving west, to Idaho. Although we met nice people in both Illinois and Idaho, we struggled to find a place to call our spiritual home.

In writing this, I’ve come to the conclusion that I joined each church not so much to find God but to find a sense of family, of belonging. At the same time, I wasn’t really sure what I believed. I was sure I believed in God. But whose? My answers to those questions didn’t being to form for another few years and might never have formed if not for a particular birthday gift from a friend.

[END OF PART TWO]

#135 - Thoughts on Faith, Spirituality, and Religion, Part One

(This is part one of a three-part series)

My faith journey up to now might more accurately be described as a series of day trips, some extended, but all of them bringing me back to much the same place.

I was born into a not very religious family. Nominally Catholic at that time, my family might better be categorized as disinterested on uninvolved where religion was concerned. Part of that apathy, at least in my immediate family, likely stemmed from the fact that my mother spent time in a Catholic youth home growing up. Some of those facilities at that time had an apparently well-earned reputation for hardness, if not downright cruelty.

For the first eight years of my life, God, faith, religion, and church were unknown terms and concepts to me (although I believe God and Jesus were referenced in certain phrases I won’t repeat here). It wasn’t until my mother and her second husband separated that I had my first church experiences. (I suppose you might say I also had my first mystical experience at this time, a hallucinatory afternoon in the hot Mojave Desert sun where I imagined our dogs were with me protecting me from snakes and any wildlife that might be around. They were at home, and everyone except me thought I was lost.)

As a single working mother with two pre-teen children, my mother was not always able to be with us or care for us. To fill in the gaps, she paid an older couple to look after us during the week: feed us, get us on the school bus each day, provide a place to sleep five or sometimes six nights a week. Jack was an elderly English immigrant with what seemed a live and let live approach to life. Nora was stern, almost Puritanical, and while she was 20 years younger than her husband, she seemed older in many ways. To this day, I’m not sure I remember ever seeing her smile.

Nora first introduced me to church and religion when I was eight, taking me to Sunday School and then to Sunday services at the local non-denominational church in the small desert California town in which we lived. She gave me my first Bible, a King James version given to me for my ninth birthday. The nameplate inside the front cover had been decorated by her husband, and it was inscribed with my name, though it used the last name of my stepfather, who while separated from her was still married to my mother. I received a second Bible the following June from the Sunday School teacher. 48 years later, I still have them both, kept as physical reminders of my childhood, the good and the bad.

A few years later, we moved to the Seattle area, where most of my family lives to this day. By this time, the connection to Catholicism was broken. Some in the family had joined the Mormon Church, in part, the story went, because of their concern for my grandfather, who had been hospitalized after a heart attack.

My grandmother would make quilts each year for them to sell at church bazaars, but I don’t recall the family attending services regularly. However, I did belong to a Mormon youth group for six months or so while we were living with an aunt. I only remember two things from that experience: learning to read a compass and how to step off a pace, both useful skills but hardly religious or spiritual. After this my religious/spiritual/faith journey stalled. I was 12.

For the next 15 years, my only experiences with going to church came from attending weddings and funerals. My own beliefs were not well formed, though I did believe there was a God. I wasn’t sure, however, what else I believed beyond that.

[END OF PART ONE]

#134 - Thoughts on the Season

Today marks the day set aside by Christians to commemorate the birth of Christ. This, despite the fact that there is no real certainty that Jesus was born anywhere close to December 25. In fact, as some people know, Christmas was born out of the pagan festival Saturnalia as an attempt by early Christians to bring pagans into the flock.

What may not be as well known is that Saturnalia itself was apparently a raucous and somewhat less than Christian affair. From this web page on the  Origin of Christmas:

Roman pagans first introduced the holiday of Saturnalia, a week long period of lawlessness celebrated between December 17-25.  During this period, Roman courts were closed, and Roman law dictated that no one could be punished for damaging property or injuring people during the weeklong celebration.  The festival began when Roman authorities chose “an enemy of the Roman people” to represent the “Lord of Misrule.”  Each Roman community selected a victim whom they forced to indulge in food and other physical pleasures throughout the week.  At the festival’s conclusion, December 25^th, Roman authorities believed they were destroying the forces of darkness by brutally murdering this innocent man or woman.

In some way, I suspect some of that spirit of lawlessness lives on in the rush to shop on Black Friday. The "Lord of Misrule" certainly seems to be at work during the holiday shopping season.

That same web site also outlines the pagan origins of some familiar Christmas traditions, such as the Christmas tree, which may have come from the Asheira cult. a tree worshipping pagan sect. Mistletoe is said to be taken from Norse mythology.

To me, none of this detracts from the spirit of or meaning of Christmas. Christmas originally drew from various cultures and various peoples, just as modern life in a variety of nations draws from the various cultures of its immigrants and the various peoples that make up its population. In a sense, then, Christmas is a drawing or bringing together, if you will, of various customs and influences.

In a more local sense, Christmas does the same thing. Many of us will spend the holiday with friends or with family or with a combination of both. I see it as a drawing or bringing together of people who may not always have time for one another or may not always agree with or get along with one another.

Growing up, my family was not overtly religious. Perhaps that is why, to me, Christmas has always been first and foremost about family. It wasn't always pretty; it was sometimes a bit messy, but that's how most families are.

Devout Christians will tell you that Jesus is the "reason for the season." Others will say that God is love. In my mind, I would go one step further and say that love is what Christmas is really all about - love of friends, love of family, and for those who believe, love of God.

This Christmas, I wish you all the gift of love. Give that gift to those around you, and you will be living out the true meaning of Christmas as I see it. Merry Christmas, everyone!

#133 - Happy Anniversary, Baby. Got You on My Mind

Apologies to Little River Band, and while the rest of the lyrics don't really fit, the title seems appropriate given that today in my 20th wedding anniversary.

September 18, 1993 was a day that for many years I never thought would come. Growing up, I always hoped one day to marry, but I also knew I wasn't exactly what in those days some would call a "chick magnet." I didn't date in high school or college and had only been in two fairly short relationships when I met Teresa.

For years, I endured variations on the same question from my family every time someone else got married: "When are you getting married?" "When are you going to tie the knot?" Fortunately, I lived far enough away from the rest of my family at the time that I did not have to hear those questions too often. After I turned 30, the questions stopped. I'm not sure whether it was turning 30 or moving to Louisiana that did the trick.

Teresa and I went out once the summer of 1992 after which she decided, James Bond not withstanding, once was enough. By that fall, however, I guess I looked pitiful enough for long enough that her heart softened and she decided to mend this bird's broken wings.

We only dated a few months before I popped the question - on Teresa's birthday, January 9, 1993. I guess I was being clever, making sure I would always remember the date I proposed. Plus, I wanted to ask before Teresa had too much time to think about things.

We did most of the planning ourselves, even writing our own music for the wedding and creating a music tape for the reception. The first song at our wedding reception? Billy Idol's "White Wedding." It's remained a favorite of ours.

Our wedding on September 18, 1993 came toward the end of a year-long stretch where nearly everyone we knew was getting married. The weather that day was perfect, perhaps to help offset the occasional storm clouds we've weathered over the years.

The last 20 years have not always been easy for either of us. Most marriages, I suspect, have occasional ups and downs. I'm also sure I'm right in saying the past two decades are not quite what Teresa expected or perhaps hoped for. I'm glad, though, that she has stayed by me and with me through all the good and bad. I can't imaging what my life would have been like without her.

I wasn't sure what to give Teresa for a 20th wedding anniversary gift. We don't usually go in for big material displays. However, I did want to give her something. The song and the lyrics to "White Wedding" are already taken, so I hope this meager effort of mine below will suffice. Happy anniversary, Teresa. Thank you for these last 20 years. Here's to the next 20. I love you!

That's No Foolin'
(contemporary country style - upbeat tempo)

In the morning
Girl, I like your smile
In the evening
Girl, I like your style
Day or night time
You make life worthwhile
And that's no foolin'

In the morning
I just want to sing
About your lovin'
And the joy you bring
Got to tell you
You mean everything
And that's no foolin'

(Bridge - slower tempo:)

I know there have been times
When it hasn't been easy
We've had our ups and downs
And at times it's been rough
We've done a lot of living and learning together
But through good and bad
We've had each other
And that's enough

In the morning
Each and every day
In the evening
I just have to say
Glad I've got you
In my life to stay
And that's no foolin'

(Break:)
(Repeat Bridge:)

In the morning
I just want to sing
About your lovin'
And the joy you bring
Got to tell you
You mean everything
And that's no foolin'

#132 - An Ending and Perhaps a Beginning

Today marks my last day on the job in a position I've held for five years at a company where I've worked for the last eight years. I suppose I have some mixed feelings about leaving, but then again, it wasn't my decision.

The recent sale of my division to another group brought about some changes, one of which was that my position and its duties moved to Portland. Since I am not in a position to move to Portland, I am surplus to the company's needs.

Even though it was not my decision to leave, I am fine with the decision. I was beginning to feel it was time for a change, and the decision not to retain me means there will be change whether I am ready for it or not. For the most part, I think I am ready.

I leave with some good memories, and I will hopefully stay in touch with the people I've had the pleasure of working closely with these past five years. But now it is on to the next chapter.

I admit to some occasional anxiety about what the future holds. Being in my mid-50s, I realize the current job market does not always welcome job seekers in my age range with open arms. On the other hand, I have always managed to land on my feet and have confidence I will again do so.

Until I land another position, I'll likely do with others in my position do, tackle a few projects around the house, scan various job web sites, maybe do a little camping. This might even be the impetus for me to do something I've always said I wanted to do but never really got serious about and that is write a novel. I have any number of ideas that I would like to do something with. I also have a few short story ideas floating around in my head. And since it is starting to get a bit crowded in there, perhaps it is time to write some of those stories down.

On my Facebook profile this morning, I posted a link to an R.E.M. song, the title of which sums up how I feel on this, my last day, as I end one chapter in my life and prepare to begin the next. To paraphrase that title, it's the end of the world as I know it, and I feel fine.

#131 - A Little Cheese with that Wine?

I'm sitting on my back patio, drinking a glass of wine and looking forward to the three-day Memorial Day weekend. Although there is a serious purpose underlying the creation of Memorial Day, for many (if not most) of us, the holiday serves as the unofficial start of summer, an opportunity to get outside, entertain friends, perhaps travel. For me, it also means an opportunity to sit outside and enjoy a glass or two of my favorite beverage, wine.

As I am sipping a decent red wine, I am reminded of a recent comment by a co-worker, someone who works in the wine industry and probably should know better, that Idaho does not and cannot produce quality red wines. I beg to differ.

Idaho is certainly best known for Ste. Chapelle Winery which, quite frankly, does not make very good red wines, although the Rieslings and sweet wines are very tasty. But while Ste. Chapelle gets the eyeballs looking at Idaho's wine industry, they are by no means the only winery in town as it were.

At last count, there were some 50 wineries in Idaho, and two of the best three red wines I've ever tasted came from two of those Idaho wineries. The third was an Oregon Pinot Noir. Granted, I am not an oenophile (though I knew the word is related to wine, so there), but I do enjoy wine, and I think I have a sense of what tastes good. Given that I cannot afford to put in a wine cellar or buy the wines to stock it, tasting good is what I shoot for, and if the wine surpasses that, so much the better.

For a very nice every day Idaho red, I gravitate toward Sawtooth Red, a nice full-fruit blend from Idaho's second-largest winery. At $9-$10 a bottle, it is affordable and very tasty. However, I was talking about Idaho wines that fall into the category of a cut above, if not great wines.

Probably the best Idaho wine I have ever tasted and perhaps best I have ever tasted was the first bottling of Syrah from Three Horse Ranch. The winery used charred French cognac oak barrels, and the wine captured some of that smoky essence in the bottle. At roughly $19 a bottle at the time a few years ago, it certainly would not be an everyday wine, but I certainly wish I had purchased several bottles at the time.

The other Idaho wine that ranks as one of the three best wines I've ever had is also the best wine I've ever purchased. (I enjoyed the Three Horse Ranch Syrah at an in-store tasting.) It is a 2007 Syrah ($18) from Williamson Vineyards. The Williamson family has made its living for more than a century as fruit growers but several years ago began making wines, and some nice wines they have.

The Sangiovese is another nice red from the Williamsons. They also make an interesting rose', the 2011 Blossom ($12), which is made from the Sangiovese grape. It has nice floral notes with what struck me as an aroma of fresh-cut grass.

Another thing about the Williamsons, they grow some of their own grapes, which some wineries in Idaho do not. They also sell grapes to other Idaho wineries, such as Koenig Winery & Distillery, which gets an honorable mention for its Viognier, Sangiovese, and Cabernet Sauvignon. I liked the latter enough to pick up a bottle of their 2009 Cabernet ($20) to drink on my 20th wedding anniversary, although the Williamson Syrah may end up being the wine of choice on that day.

Wine does not have to be expensive to be good, at least to be good to you, which is really what counts. My wife is fond of quoting the sentiment "drink what you like, if you like it it's good." I agree with that but will add one thing: don't be afraid to try something new. You might find a new favorite. I tried something new and ended up with a new respect and appreciation for Idaho wines. Enjoy!

#130 - Time to Reboot

For several weeks since my parent company announced it was selling the division I work in to another entity, I and others I work with have wondered what the future holds. Immediately after the sale was finalized, we were told that some of our jobs would move to another location, and speculation began about who would stay and who would go.

Last Thursday, we got some answers. Mine was no; I would not be retained. Oddly enough, someone I work with was also told she was being let go only to receive a phone call several hours later offering her a position. Talk about a roller coaster ride over the course of less than 24-hours.

I was not surprised to learn I was being let go. While I know the quality of the work I do, I'm not sure many others do. I'm not very good at blowing my own horn. Couple that with the fact that my desk is in a slightly out of the way location, and it might at least partly be an out of sight, out of mind situation.

On top of that, I am a bit of an introvert. As a result, I'm not sure many of the people in management really know me or know about me and what I am capable of doing, and some of those who did are no longer around.

Initially, I think I felt a little resentment over some of the people who were kept on. Now, though, I'm ready to move on. I feel glad for those who still have positions, and I feel bad for those who no longer have a job.

The time has come for me to move to the next chapter in my life, whatever that may be. Between now and June 8, my last day, I will begin to put out some feelers with other companies and start to think more about what I want to do next. With any luck, I'll be able to channel some of my experiences into something creative. In fact, I think I'll start doing that now.

These song lyrics, while about a different subject altogether, were inspired and influenced by the recent events surrounding my job.

When The Hammer Falls

He found himself blindsided

And never saw it come

Just another victim of

Some heartbreak hit and run

His friends say he'll survive it

But the damage has been done

He'll find himself more cautious

When his heart's under the gun

He's seen more pain and heartache

Than he cares to recall

Yet he's taken by surprise

Each time the hammer falls

In her dreams, she never thought

That it would come to this

What started with hello

Ended with a goodbye kiss

Her life's become a nightmare

When it once seemed total bliss

Instead of hit and run

Her love life's now more hit and miss

She's seen more pain and heartache

Than she cares to recall

Still, she's taken by surprise

Each time the hammer falls

Hear the echo sound

Of the hammer on your heart

As you watch the life you've built

Slowly fall apart

You start to feel as if you're trapped

Inside these four walls

You look but find there's no escaping

When the hammer falls

She said you had a future

Now that future's in the past

You sit here in the wreckage

Of a love not built to last

Feel you should have been prepared

It happened all so fast

Tried to make it work

But the die had long been cast

You've seen more pain and heartache

Than you care to recall

But you're taken by surprise

Each time the hammer falls

#129 - Generally Speaking in a World of Specifics

There is an old saying, "jack of all trades, master of none." At one time, that meant a person could do a number of things fairly well but was not an expert at any one of those things.

Over time, though, I think a slight negative connotation crept into the subtext of that old phrase, an implication that such a person perhaps wasn't worth as much to society as someone who possessed expertise is a specific field, such as medicine or science.

I have been recalling that phrase, one I often used to describe myself and my abilities, over the last several days as I prepare for the very real possibility of having to find a new job. The company I worked for sold my division, and the new owners are busy reorganizing the division and redefining how things are done, both of which are good for the company but not necessarily as good for all of its employees.

As a result, some of the jobs in my division are being eliminated, while others are being moved to a different state. That means some good people will find themselves on the outside looking in.

In my current position, being something of a generalist, a "jack of all trades," if you will, is a good thing. Being able to do a number of things reasonably well makes you a bit more valued.

However, in looking at some recent job openings, I am increasingly convinced that we live in a specialized world. Most, if not all of the opening require a specific skill or combination of skills, even for lower-paying or entry-level positions. Other qualities that might ensure an ability to do the job well (critical thinking skills, ability to work independently or as part of a team, etc.) are ignored if the applicant does not possess the specific expertise sought.

While specific expertise is quite useful in, say, a physician or a lawyer, it seems less necessary in areas such as sales or general labor. Yet I see more and more calls for specific skills, no matter how low paying the position.

I have worked for any length of time in only two areas in my life: broadcast journalism and data entry/pricing. I have been out of journalism for 20 years and likely could not go back even if I wanted to. I have worked for my current employer for almost eight years, spending time in Accounts Payable and in a division office working with beer and wine distributors and entering pricing.

I believe I have other skills that seldom get a chance to be used: critical thinking, analytical skills, writing skills, and more. Yet these skills may remain untapped as long as the positions where such things might be put to use require specific expertise I do not possess.

Generally speaking, there should be places in the working world for people who possess broad knowledge and abilities, people who do not conveniently fit into a specific niche, the square pegs who do not fit the round holes. Specifically speaking, there should be a place for me. Now I just need to find it.

#128 - Bang, Bang You Shot Me Down

First, let me say I have never owned a gun, and I have no desire to ever own a gun. Next, let me say I have no interest in having all guns outlawed, nor do I have any interest in having all weaponry legal for private ownership.

I have fired a gun on a couple of occasions, even hitting what I was aiming at on the second of those. I understand the attraction of guns and of owning them. Even though I do not hunt, I think I understand the allure of tracking and bagging your prey.

I think I even understand the desire of some to have a gun in the house for protection. At the same time, I understand my own limitations which come up somewhere way short of being able to have a gun in my home.

What I do not understand is the twisted logic of some of those screaming the loudest in the current and latest chapter of the debate over gun control. Perhaps if they could simply listen to themselves they would see how ridiculous they sound.

Case in point: the people who argue that guns don't kill people, people kill people and then argue against universal background checks to perhaps keep guns out of the hands of some of these people. These are the checks that might keep a few of people from killing other people because they would no longer be able to walk into a gun show, spend a few minutes looking around, then walk out having bought a gun because the seller was not required to check them out in any way, shape, or form.

Many of these same people argue against firearm education and safety training, as if it's my God-given right to be a fool with a gun, accidentally shoot myself and perhaps shoot someone else in the process. After all, what's a little collateral damage between friends (Dick Cheney, anyone?)

We require renewable licenses to drive a car and open a business. Schools now offer drivers education, and some religious faiths provide instruction prior to marriage. You have to take a test before getting a driver's license, but there is no such requirement for buying or owning a gun.

The most vocal gun advocates all but scream that such requirements will lead to only criminals having guns or that they won't stop criminals from having guns. What a load of horse manure. If your sole argument is that having a law won't stop people from breaking it, why have any laws or limits? Why not simply have anarchy?

Among other things, laws provide societal boundaries and help life move in an orderly fashion. No, speed limits and traffic signals don't keep some people from speeding or from running red lights. But they do help to minimize those things and make roads a little safer for everyone else.

Universal background checks, firearms training, renewable gun registrations won't keep determined criminals from getting guns, but I believe they will help to minimize such occurrences and perhaps allow for better tracking of weapons used to commit crimes. And they may help to keep things a little bit safer for the rest of us.

Let me end as I started. I don't own a gun and have no desire to own a gun. If you want to own a gun, fine, that is your Second Amendment right. But remember that the Second Amendment includes the words "well regulated." All I ask is that gun ownership finally be "well regulated" instead of the haphazard mess we now have.

If you want to own a gun, make sure you are qualified to have a gun, and that requires a little more than simply having the money to pay for one. Get adequate training in firearm use and safety. We might both rest a bit easier.

#127 - The Times They Are a Changin'

First off, apologies to Bob Dylan. Not that he reads this blog, but his famous song of the 1960s (and album of the same name) seemed a nice point from which to launch into a discussion of change.

I recently finished reading what, for me, was a very profound book by Neale Donald Walsch called "When Everything Changes, Change Everything". Among other things, the book talks about changing the way one thinks about and reacts to change and by doing so actually influencing future changes in one's life.

The book also makes the argument that all change is for the better, even change that seems deeply disastrous at the time of its occurrence. Walsch refers back to his own life experiences of breaking his neck, losing his job, and becoming homeless, events which at the time were traumatic but which, in retrospect, he says were the best things to ever happen to him.

Walsch takes this argument to its logical conclusion, stating that change is life and arguing that life without change is not only boring, it is impossible. According to Walsch, change happens whether we want it or not. We cannot stop change, but we can control how we think about it.

There is much more worth reading in this book, but Walsch's thoughts on change were very timely in my life. Recently, the company I work for decided to sell off some of its assets, including the division I work for. Naturally, that has a number of people wondering, even worried about the future of their jobs. I am not one of them.

The division I work for is being split into two separate divisions, one remaining here in Boise, Idaho, the other located in Portland, Oregon. Because of my area of responsibility, the likelihood on paper is that my position will move to Portland. It might happen; it might not. Whether it does or does not, however, is out of my control.

What is in my control is how I react to, think about, and even prepare for that possibility. I choose not to let it govern my every waking hour and thought. At some point in the near future, I'll likely begin polishing my resume' and start looking for another opportunity somewhere.

I have no doubt that, should the need arise, I will find another job somewhere. I feel confident in my ability to respond to and even thrive through any changes in this area that might occur. Because the world around me isn't the only thing changing.

#126 - Filling a Sinkhole

From time to time, I'll read, see, or hear news reports about an ongoing or impending food shortage of one sort or another. Invariably, one of the following causes will be cited: war, drought, harsh winter weather, or rising fuel prices. And I'm sure each calamity has its own part to play in all of this.

But I think I have discovered the real cause of the food shortages we seem to suffer through on a regular basis.

Teenagers.

Think about it. Have you ever watched a teenager eat? Every meal seems like the last meal of a condemned man. They eat and eat and eat, then as soon as they've finished they ask to eat some more.

It's incredible, really, watching them shovel food into their mouth like a train engineer stoking a coal fire. There's almost a terrible, grotesque, and hypnotic beauty to the entire process. It's a bit like watching an accident unfold in slow motion; you want to look away, yet you are inexplicably drawn to the horrific spectacle taking place before your eyes.

I come to these observations from the vantage point of having a teenager of my own. Just as CNN is representative of the 24-hour news cycle, my son is indicative of the teenager's 24-hour eating cycle.

Even before we've finished breakfast, my son will invariably ask "What's for lunch?" No sooner have we cleared the table after dinner than he'll ask, "Can I have a treat?"

I have, from time to time, asked him, "Don't you ever get full?" The answer, all too obvious now, is no.

Even though I drive a large truck each day that gets in the neighborhood of 14-miles per gallon (of diesel), my largest expense each month is for food, much of which ends up in the stomach of my teenage son. Such is the price of parenthood, you might say.

I've hit upon a novel, if I do say so myself, approach to resolving the expense issue and, in the process, helping to stretch food supplies and reduce shortages. Ban teenagers.

By doing so, we'll cut costs, save money, make dwindling food supplies go further, and improve the overall mental health of adults the world over. Sounds like a workable solution to me.

There's just one snag in this plan. Getting rid of teenagers would also have the unintended consequence of basically ending the human race as there would be no next generation to take our place. A serious drawback, I grant you, but I haven't given up hope of finding a way around this.

In the meantime, though, I guess I'll just hope for more overtime at work so I can afford to keep stoking the unquenchable fire. I just need to make sure to keep my hands clear. It wouldn't be a pretty sight.

#125 - Pulling the Plug

We recently made the decision to get rid of satellite television. Although the day has not yet come when it will actually be gone, I can't say that I'm worrying about missing it. I'm sure I won't.

When we lived in Illinois, we had DirecTV and enjoyed it for the most part. When we moved to Idaho in 2003, we had cable, then we moved to Dish Network. We weren't satisfied with what we got versus what we paid for cable. If anything, we're less satisfied with Dish.

We talked off and on for months about getting rid of Dish, complaining about the lack of watchable programming for what we were paying, but we did nothing to change or upset the status quo. Instead, we watched less and less and complained more and more.


Several months ago, we signed up for Amazon Prime, which gives free next day shipping as well as access to a number of free movies and television programming. We began to think more of a satellite and cable-free home. We had also checked out Hulu, although we were less than thrilled with the commercials, not to mention the interface through our internet-ready DVD player.

Then we decided to give Netflix a try. Between Amazon Prime and Netflix, we found a wealth of programming to watch, without lame commercials. The selection seemed much better than we were getting on Dish, and the cost was much less. The decision was becoming easier, especially once Dish announced it was raising our rates.

The rate hike solidified our decision to pull the plug, or the cable if you will. Dish begged and pleaded, but we said we're leaving. They do not make it easy to leave. They are charging us $15 to disconnect and making up ship our DVR and the LNB off our dish back to them. Presumably, the $15 charge is to pay for shipping on the box they are supposed to send us for returning things to them, but who knows.

As I write this, we should only have a few more days of Dish service. I can't wait. Aside from missing the occasional college football game, there is little to nothing I will miss about not have satellite television. It will mean more time for reading, for writing, for watching movies, and for discovering or re-discovering programs I had not seen before or had not seen in a long time. I see no down side to this change, except perhaps for another company that won't be getting my money.

#124 - The More Things Change

Wow! Another two months has gone by without a new post to this blog. I am slipping big time. I have been thinking about writing something for several weeks. The main problem is that I'm not quite sure where I want this blog to go, what direction it should take.

When I was younger, I was very political and very opinionated. As I got older, I tried harder to get people to like me, so I tended to modify my opinions, suppress if you will a big part of who I was. Now, as I get older, I find myself reverting back to some of what I was when I was younger.

So, I suspect this blog will become more opinionated but hopefully do so in a respectful way. One thing I have tired of as I have gotten older is the opinions that basically say "f*%# you" to anyone with a differing point of view. I can swear with the best of them, but I'd rather not. It doesn't get me anywhere, nor does it really serve to advance the discussion.

Insulting posts are something else I am not a big fan of. I can be as insulting as the next person, and while these can be entertaining, they tend to be more preaching to the choir and, again, do not help to advance the conversation. Nor do they help to get anyone else to consider your point of view, at least not seriously.

At the moment, I am up in the air about the direction in which this blog will head. For now, at least, I guess it will remain random in terms of subject matter. I hope it will become more random (at least in terms of frequency) now that we have pulled the plug on satellite TV. (That decision may well be the subject of my next post on these pages.) As we were told never to say in television news, time will tell.

#123 - Sheer Madness

It's been a number of months since i have brought myself to post a blog entry. A number of times, I've had ideas to write about, things I thought I wanted to say, but somehow, I could not get motivated to write anything. Until now.

I thought for several hours today before deciding to write something in response to the tragedy in Connecticut. I don't know what drove the shooter to commit these horrible acts or why he thought these children should die. Any speculation in that direction would be merely that, and it would do nothing to bring those children back or ease the suffering of their families left behind.

Some are using this as an opportunity to point out the need for stronger gun control laws. Others are expressing the need for people to arm themselves so they can be prepared "the next time." Some are merely asking that there be some kind of discussion.

I am among those who believes there are too many guns in this country, although I have no desire to outlaw them or prevent people from legally obtaining them. However, I get tired of the "guns don't kill people, people kill people" crap many gun advocates post after such a tragedy. From my vantage point, I see people killing people - WITH GUNS.

Other countries, such as Australia and Canada, have much stricter gun laws and have much lower per capita rates of gun-related deaths. There may or may not be a correlation, and again, I am not saying I want to take everyone's guns away.

What I am saying is that we make it harder to get a driver's license than we do to buy a gun. We now have driver education programs in our schools so that young people do not get behind the wheel of a motor vehicle without some training and awareness of the laws. I don't see how requiring the same kind of education before buying a gun constitutes an attempt to prevent gun ownership, although some gun advocates all too easily make that leap.

I don't know whether we need more laws, fewer laws, better laws, or simply better enforcement of existing gun laws. But to refuse to enter into rational and thoughtful discussion of the issue and dismissing those on "the other side" and blaming them for what ails America is sheer madness.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have fired a gun on a few occasions and, knowing my limitations when it comes to handling firearms, have no desire to own a gun or have one in my home. I understand there are those who feel safer having a gun. Me, I feel safer not having one. All I ask is that you know where your gun is at all times and keep it in a place where others (especially children) can't get to it without your knowledge. We might both sleep better.

#122 - An Update and a Nice Summer Wine

I've been thinking for several days now that I needed to write another post, though I wasn't quite sure what I would write about. Tonight, I decided to visit the site and realized it has been nearly two months since my last entry. I'm still not sure what to write about, but perhaps if I hit enough keys for long enough something of meaning will come out. Then again perhaps not.

First, an update on the new lifestyle. It has been 12 weeks since we began working toward eating more of a plant-based, whole foods diet. With a few small transgressions (such as using some of the mayonnaise we still had in the refrigerator when we made this change), we have been completely meat and dairy-free for the entire time.

Over the 12 weeks, we have managed to drastically reduce the amount of added oils and sugars in our diets and have substantially cut back on our intake of processed foods while increasing the amount of fruits and vegetables we eat. We are also becoming more active. As a result, we have collectively shed nearly 40 pounds. Teresa has dropped 12 and I've lost 25 pounds.

In addition, we are becoming more adventurous in what we eat. Tomorrow night for instance, I am going to try my hand at making falafel. Traditionally, this tasty treat is deep-fried, but I've found some recipes for baking them, which is what I intend to do.

Beyond that, though, I am also becoming reacquainted with a food I had sworn off as a child because of its association with various bad experiences from that stage of my life. For the first time in more than 40 years, I am able to eat tomato (not simply tomato products like ketchup) without grimacing or gagging. I won't say we're good friends again, but I am becoming more comfortable having a bite of tomato in my mouth.

One of the rituals or habits we've begun to develop since changing our eating lifestyle is that we occasionally enjoy fresh-made hummus on the patio with a glass of wine (or two) and perhaps some fruit. Recently, we came across a fairly inexpensive wine that pairs well with either one or even with both, which is how we enjoyed it.

The wine in question is Turning Leaf Crisp White, and it is certainly that. It has a light lemon scent and a slight hint of carbonation. That latter fact makes it a possible alternative to New Age White wine, with which it shares a number of characteristics but at a lower cost.

The wine makes a wonderful summer accompaniment to fresh fruit, hummus, salad (perhaps with a nice vinaigrette). It manages to work with a wide variety of foods because the lemony hint helps to balance again sweeter food such as fruit while there is also just a hint of sweetness which help to balance against slightly more tart foods.

Refresh Crisp White by Turning Leaf is also a real bargain, usually running between $6 and $8 a bottle. If you want a nice balance between cost, taste, and refreshment, this wine is a good choice.

#121 - Adventures in Eating

Let me just start by saying I like food. For years I've had almost a love affair with beef, pork, chicken, potatoes, pasta, just about any dessert you can name. And food loved me back, to the point where I was many pounds overweight with a cholesterol level well over 200.

That all started to change four weeks ago. That was when a couple of things converged to bring out a change.

I learned about a study of eating habits and diet in China and the apparent connections between levels of animal protein intake (meat and dairy) and diseases such as diabetes, heart disease, even cancer.

While I was reading The China Study by Dr. T. Colin Campbell, Teresa and I happened upon a documentary on Hulu dealing with the same subject. The film Forks Over Knives presented many of the same arguments of Campbell's book but in a slightly more accessible format.

After seeing that film and another called Chow Down, we decided it was time to make a change in the way we eat. We began to drastically cut the amount of meat and dairy in our diets as well as the amount of oils we use. (We have not yet completely eliminated meat and dairy because of food we had purchased prior to seeing these films.) At the same time, we began to eat more fruits and vegetables.

About ten days into this dietary change we also bought a Wii Fit and began to incorporate exercise into our daily routine. Now, let me say I hated exercise with a passion before the Wii Fit. Exercise was boring, and I seldom saw any meaningful results, even after months of effort. Then, I would give up.

Since getting the Wii Fit, exercise has actually become, dare I say it, fun. The Wii Fit provides numerous activities, from yoga stretches and balance activities to aerobic exercises and strength training.

Between the dietary changes and the exercise, I have so far lost nine pounds in four weeks, and I have done it without pills and without starving myself. I still have a long way to go, but I can honestly say I feel better, and I am beginning to see the change physically.

In the interest of fairness, there are those who question the link between intake of animal protein and disease. Those same people say the evidence that a diet eliminating animal protein can help prevent or even reverse those diseases is suspect. I don't know who is right, but it doesn't really matter to me.

Even if the skeptics are right, there is still much to be said in favor of the dietary changes we have made. Seeing those films and reading The China Study made up think, perhaps for the first time, about what we were eating. Even if we need not have given up meat and dairy, the change to eating mostly fruits and vegetable and grains also resulted in a move away from highly processed foods. We now eat almost nothing that comes out of a box except for hot cereal.

Science was never my strong suit, so I don't know which side of the argument carries the most scientific weight. What I do know is that I feel better, and I am losing weight without skipping meals, without taking diet pills, and without counting calories or feeling deprived.

Between the changes in the way I feel and my weight and the compelling argument made by some that the amount of grain used to feed livestock each year is more than enough to feed the world's population, I feel I've made the right choice and opened the door to a whole new love affair with food.

Additional resources:

Chow Down (the actual film on Hulu.com)
Dr. McDougall's Health and Medical Center
The Engine 2 Diet
T. Colin Campbell Foundation

#120 - The Skinny on Wine

I like wine. A lot. Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good craft beer or a good porter from time to time. However, as I get older, I find I am more drawn to the fruit of the grape over beer or hard liquor.

When it comes to wine, I am certainly no expert, but I know what I like. Recently, I had a bottle of something I really liked. Men, you need to be somewhat secure in your manhood to admit you like this particular wine, but I am. And I do.

The wine was the Skinnygirl California Red. The skinny quality comes from the fact that the wine has "just" 100  calories in a five-ounce glass. It is has a bright edge to it, a quality that comes from being a young vintage. The bottle I had was a pre-production 2010 bottle (*), but the 2011 vintage is what is now available on the market.

As I drank it, the Skinnygirl reminded me of a Zinfandel. I have since learned that it is made primarily from Syrah. I like both. In fact, they are probably my favorite red varietals, so it should come as no surprise that I liked the Skinnygirl.

The wine could be described as fruity, I suppose, but it is not sweet, which seems to be the growing trend, even in red wines these days. Nor is it as full or heavy as a Cabernet or even a Merlot. I would definitely drink it again.

Skinnygirl California Red is a little on the pricey side from my vantage point. In our household, wine is a regular accompaniment to meals, as well as a nice beverage to enjoy on a sunny day. It is not something we pull out only on special occasions. That means we look for bargains. Fortunately, we are not wine snobs. I've even enjoyed a few glasses of Charles Shaw. otherwise known as Two-Buck Chuck.

While Skinnygirl makes a very good everyday wine or dinner wine, its price disqualifies it from that status for us. A quick search on the Internet found Skinnygirl California Red for between $13 and $15 a bottle. At that price, it may be a bit out of its league or at least a bit out of mine. If the price comes down to around $10 a bottle, Skinnygirl could be a winner. (There is also a white blend, made primarily from Chardonnay and Pinot Grigio.)

* In the interest of full disclosure, I received my bottle of Skinnygirl California Red as a gift.

#119 - An Experiment in Driving

When we have the opportunity. we like to take our fifth-wheel trailer out of town and get away from the traffic, the mall, the everyday world. Thanks to the fifth-wheel, we have all of the comforts of home, just with better scenery.

Because we have a fifth-wheel, and because we don't have a three-car garage or the desire to buy, insure, and maintain a third vehicle, our second vehicle is a truck. This isn't your run-of-the-mill, everyday Chevy Silverado, Dodge Ram, or Ford F-150. No, our truck is a 2006 Ford F-350 Crew Cab with dual rear wheels.

Needless to say, this beast does not have the fuel-sipping characteristics of your basic compact. However, it can just about pull a house. Or, in our case, a house on wheels.

For the first year or so that we owned it, this truck averaged around 12.5 miles per gallon. The price of diesel being what it is, that translates into a real financial kick in the stomach every time I would fill it up.After the odometer passed 75,000 miles (just getting started for a diesel), the fuel mileage improved to a shade over 13 mpg. Still not all that good.

A few months ago, I heard a story on some public radio program talking about a concept known as hypermiling. There is even a website devoted to the subject and offering tips for successful hypermiling.

Basically, the concept involves taking every opportunity to not press on the gas or brake pedal. Part of that involves anticipating traffic signals and stop signs, taking your foot off the gas, and coasting as far as possible before applying the brake pedal.

Another aspect of hypermiling I recently began to employ involves letting your vehicle begin to move of its own accord before beginning to press on the gas pedal. (Obviously, this only works with automatic transmissions unless you are headed downhill.) The theory is that it takes less fuel to move an object that is already moving.

I also use gravity to boost fuel mileage, coasting down hills whenever I have the opportunity. I have gotten better at anticipating traffic signals, which means less need to use the brake pedals and an added maintenance benefit.

None of these things, nor any others I might come up with, is going to give my truck the fuel efficiency of a Toyota Prius. However, I have seen close to a ten-percent improvement in mileage in each of the last two tanks of fuel. I now average around 14.2 miles per gallon driving around town.

As I get better at employing the ideas and concepts involved in hypermiling, I have hopes of nearly 15 miles per gallon in town, and that's without any after-market. additions or other alterations to the truck itself. If I can get the truck to 15 mpg, I will truly be a happy camper.

#118 - Friends and Foibles

"But you got to have friends" - Bette Midler

It's good to have friends. I've never really thought of myself as being all that likeable or as having many friends, and compared to some people maybe I haven't. After spending some time on Facebook, however, I've found that more people touched my life than I realized and have remembered me more kindly than I had any right to expect.

For a long time, I came across as distant and maybe aloof (maybe I still do). At least that was always my perception of myself. Truth was, I was painfully shy and afraid to let people in to get to know me, afraid they wouldn't like what they saw because I didn't like what I saw. Because of that, I always tended to keep people at arms' length.

I think of the people who passed in and out of my life during those years and wish I had been able to break down the walls to let them in. Thankfully, I have been able to reconnect with some of those same people on Facebook. In the case of a select few, I have even managed to go beyond the typical superficialities that often come with posting on Facebook.

From these select few, I have received kindness, encouragement, understanding, and, as needed, a swift kick in the pants. They have also caused me to think about what might have been in my own life and to wonder a little about what might yet be in the life of my son.

My son is in some ways a lot like me in that he is hard to get to know beneath the surface, hard to pin down. In my case, that slipperiness served as one of my defenses. For my son, it may also do the same. However, it may also be a by-product of the fact that he is autistic.

My son can be both endearing and exasperating at the same time. He will hug the dickens out of you one moment and the next invite you to leave the room so he can be alone. Although he mentions the names of others he goes to school with, I don't know that he has many friends. He's never really had other children come over and never really asked to.

He and I are different in many ways but very similar in terms of our difficulties in connecting with other people. Because of that, we are not perhaps as close as we should be. On the other hand, he and I are closer than my father and I were.

Earlier today, I did some thinking about the emotional similarities between me and my son. I was inspired to write the following lines which are not quite about him and not quite about me, yet they are in many ways about the two of us.

Between The Lines

Cold - no feeling showed there in his eyes
He kept his true self in disguise
Hidden away

Still -there was a kindness in his smile
It was hard to reconcile
In the light of day

In his world, he was protected
His true feelings unsuspected
There inside his shell
Hidden all too well

He - wasn't like all of the others
It would take more to discover
What was in his heart

Fate - had given him a kinder soul
But had made him not quite whole
A missing part

That could never quite explain
What went on there in his brain
What was in his head
Never quite got said

He wasn't quite what others hoped he'd be
Not quite a product of his time
Nobody saw quite what he hoped they'd see
They never learned to read between the lines

#117 - Bad Day at Black Rock

Today, I still have a job. At least nine people I know or deal with from time to time do not. There may be others who have not yet been able to say anything.

Today, the company I work issued a statement announcing hundreds of people will be let go "in order to help us be more competitive." Although I suspect this has been in the planning stages for some time, the execution (somehow an apropos word) seems to better resemble a Chinese fire drill or the final stages of a going out of business sale. (Everything must go! No reasonable offer refused.)

I say that because the announcement was made today, those affected were told today, and the each of them will be out of a job February 29. Not much time to polish up the ole resume or begin cold-calling to find another position. Thank you for your dedication and years of service. Don't let the door hit you in the you-know-where on your way out.

People at my job level were told their positions are safe. In this day and age, when neither companies nor employees need feel any loyalty to the other, I'm not exactly sure what "safe" means. I guess today, it means I still have a job. Tomorrow, who knows?

This is at least the third reduction in force I've experienced in the last three and a half years with this company. I suspect it won't be the last. The first time, I was directly affected, as my position was outsourced overseas. The other times, I knew people affected. Next time, maybe it will be my turn again.

You know what, though? While I am angry about the events that unfolded today, I am not worried about what tomorrow will bring. The sun will rise (even if I don't see it behind the clouds) and life will go on. A wise man (and former co-worker) once told me "I work to live. I don't live to work." I hope one day to achieve that level of wisdom. In the meantime, however, I won't sweat it. Worrying doesn't do any good anyway.

#116 - 2012: Thoughts on the Year Ahead

When I was younger, I had this tradition (or superstition, if you will) of making ten New Year's resolutions every New Year's Eve. Not nine, not 11, but ten. (I suppose I have to accept that my son gets some of his OCD tendencies from me.) Every year, I had a perfect record. Each year, I would make ten resolutions, and each year, I would break ten resolutions.

As I got older, I began to realize that making and breaking ten resolutions, while consistent, was not likely to lead to any kind of success I could build upon. (I am, you might say, a slow learner.) So I pared the list down. Some years, I'd make five resolutions, some years two or three. I think there were even a few years when I made no resolutions of any kind. Regardless of the number, I remained consistent, not keeping a single one.

This year, I've decided to try yet again. (I did say I was a slow learner.) I've decided to make one single resolution. My resolution for 2012 is to be better to myself. Vague, I know (something my wife was quick to point out), which is part of the point. Because it is such a broad resolution, I have a pretty decent chance of keeping it at some level.

But what exactly do I mean by resolving to be better to myself? Any number of things, really. At one level, I mean this to say I will be kinder to myself and not beat myself up of silly mistakes or over things I didn't or haven't done or things I did but perhaps shouldn't have. I have a tendency to be hard on myself when I screw up. My resolution is not intended to let me slide when I make a mistake but to not allow myself to dwell on it or wallow in self-pity.

At another level, being better to myself means being better to my body. One of the things I want to do in 2012 is cut down on my consumption of processed foods. This is somewhat easier said than done, I know, but I can make a decent effort simply by cutting out foods that come in a box, such as Hamburger Helper (or any of its Helper cousins), Rice-a-Roni, and other such box meals.

Since early retirement is not a likely option (Teresa won't go for it, for one thing), I need to do what I can so that I can enjoy retirement when it comes. That means lowering my blood pressure, reducing cholesterol, dropping some weight, and so on. Reducing my intake of processed foods can only help in this regard.

Being better to myself also means enjoying the things I have, enjoying the people around me, and not worrying or thinking so much about what I don't have or can't do. It also means not comparing myself to others, something I don't do much anyway but don't need to do at all.

Finally, I suppose being better to myself also means enjoying each day to the best of my ability and not worrying so much about what other people think about whether I am enjoying life or doing the right thing, etc. In other words, even as I make attempts to change certain aspects of myself and my life, I also need to accept and appreciate who I am.

So, yes, my single resolution to be better to myself in 2012 is a broad one, with numerous possibilities. If I can fulfill even one of those possibilities, then 2012 will be a successful year. Here's hoping your 2012 is also a success, however you define it.