I've been thinking about this post off and on for a while, eight weeks to be exact. That's how long it has been since my last post.
Part of that delay is not knowing exactly what to write about. Part of it is due to everyday life getting in the way, but part of it is knowing I needed to write this while dreading it at the same time.
I don't fool myself into thinking that I have many readers of this blog. However, I'm pretty sure that the few readers I do have are not all aligned politically, culturally, religiously, or any other -ly. (Which is why I normally shy away from writing about politics, in particular.) So, I suspect whatever I have to say in the following paragraphs will not be agreed with or appreciated by all.
It has taken me until this day, exactly six weeks before election day to firmly decide which candidate for President would receive my vote. For several months, I had convinced myself that I would vote for one of the third-party candidates, a refusal, if you will, to vote for the lesser of two evils.
Having lived through a number of Presidential elections now, it seems that too many of them have been a choice between the lesser of two evils, regardless of which side of the ideological spectrum you stand on. This coming election may yet be the clearest example of that.
On the one hand, you have Hillary Clinton, the first woman Presidential nominee from a major political party. She is shrewd, clever, intelligent, and also calculating, possibly devious, and perhaps a bit disingenuous. I firmly believe she moved many of her positions to the left because of the candidacy of Bernie Sanders.
I don't really trust Hillary Clinton to do many of the things she says she will, even if Congress were inclined to go along. I suspect she will only do what she thinks she has to do to win and stay in power.
Now, before I am accused of being misogynistic, let me say that two of my favorite bosses during my working career were women. Let also say that, in spite of my misgivings and mistrust of her, I will be voting for Hillary Clinton in November.
The simple reason is that, on the other side of the ticket we have Donald Trump, a man who wouldn't know a fact if it bit him in the ass. Just as I firmly believe that Hillary Clinton is a politician in the worst sense of the word (I know some don't think there is any other), I also believe Donald Trump is a liar and a cheat (his good points) as well as a racist, a bully, and a misogynist. Not to mention a complete and utter egomaniac.
Trump has changed direction on various issues and topics so many times over the years, I'm not sure he could find north on a compass if someone pointed it out to him. (Others have documented some of these reversals and apparent "lapses of memory," so I won't bother here.) He speaks for whites afraid of losing their all out of proportion privilege and power and promises things he knows he can never deliver. (Just how will he "make" Mexico pay for his proposed wall, anyway? Does he plan to declare war on that country?)
Donald Trump is a bit like this century's version of Joseph McCarthy, he of the Communist witch hunt fame from the 1950s. Trump makes wild accusations, which he then fails to back up and says he did and said one thing when the record clearly shows he did and said the exact opposite (President Obama "birther" issue, anyone?).
Donald Trump is like a David Duke wet dream, promising to restore an America that thankfully died long ago, one where white men were in complete control, women knew their place, and minorities were treated as the second-class citizens he seems to believe them to be.
Trump plays upon the fears of whites who see the world changing in ways they don't understand, of gun owners who believe their rights are being taken away (even though that won't happen), of tinfoil hat wearers sure the government is out to get them, of and of individualists who believe we can return to the days of the open West when people were free (supposedly) to do what they wanted and make their own way, including those opposed to federal government regulation of any kind.
This latter group fails to understand that clean air and water are too important to leave to individual states and fails to accept that what one state does can and will impact its neighbor, if not now, somewhere down the line. After all, air and water to not recognize artificial boundaries drawn on a piece of paper.
For some time, I considered voting for Jill Stein of the Green Party. Her views, especially on the environment, align with mine closest of any of the candidates. Since I live in Idaho, I figured my vote would not help elect anyone anyway, especially since I never had any intention of voting for Trump, his numerous robo-calls (especially at meal times) not withstanding.
In the end, however, I decided I would hold my nose and, despite my misgivings about what exactly she stands for, vote for Hillary Clinton. Because, while I'm not sure what Clinton might do as President in terms of policy, I feel confident that I know exactly what a Trump Presidency would lead to, and that vision scares the hell out of me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2016
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
#211 - Pokemon Go Has Got To. Go, That Is
I just realized it has been entirely too long since my last entry (51 days, to be exact). I can only apologize for my laxness and blame it on the fact that I have been camping, singing, writing, and otherwise having fun.
One thing I have noticed people (including my son and a few of my friends) having fun with is Pokemon Go. While they do, I wait for it to go the way of all fads, into oblivion.
I'll be honest, I simply do not see the attraction or the appeal of Pokemon Go, except perhaps for cell phone companies. I'm sure they simply love it. After all, Pokemon Go encourages players to use copious amounts of cell phone data searching for Poke-Stops and various Poke-creatures. I'm sure there hasn't been this much excitement about anything poke (or pokey) since the days of Gumby and his sidekick, Pokey.
There are those who credit Pokemon Go with encouraging people of all ages to exercise, as they walk around in searching of the ever elusive virtual beings. others say the game encourages teamwork. These are, to me, only incidental and accidental side benefits, icing on the cake that is increased profits for cell phone companies and a spike in the net worth of Pokemon's parent company, Nintendo.
I have to wonder how long that financial high can last before it comes crashing to earth just like a person on a sugar high crashes an hour or two after eating that last donut. My guess is that after one or two months of outrageous cell phone bills, a number of parents (and perhaps children who never grew up) will curtail the playing of Pokemon Go.
Of course, I could be wrong. Perhaps enough people have unlimited cell data plans or are already used to high cell phone bills that they won't say no to Go, at least not for that reason.
It may be that safety or crime prevention may hold the key to stopping Go. There have been reports of people trespassing onto the property of others to try and capture a Pokemon and at least one report of someone being shot and killed while playing the game.
Because I don't really pay attention to the game, except to the extent that my son continually talks about Pokemon, I don't know the validity of any of these stories. To me, Pokemon Go sounds like a slow Jamaican in need of a trip to the bathroom.
Thinking about it, though, I guess I can see some appeal. Many of the people who play Pokemon Go are likely also attracted to YouTube, reality television, and videos featuring animals doing something they probably shouldn't be doing or shouldn't be able to do.
There are a number of things I don't understand about Pokemon Go, why people play it simply being the most obvious. For example, although Nintendo's net worth skyrocketed after the game came out, I don't understand how the company makes money off of it, since the game is free to download and play. (I suspect there may have been a licensing fee paid to Nintendo by the game's developer, but that alone cannot justify the increase in net worth.)
I guess I also don't understand how we can hope other alien cultures (if they exist) will see in us signs of intelligent life if we are all convening at Poke-Stops, cell phones in hand, hoping to capture a Poliwhirl, a Charizard, or even a Squirtle. Perhaps that's the ultimate goal of Pokemon Go, to encourage alien cultures to pass us by and see us as no danger to them. At the rate we're going, I suspect the only danger we are going to pose while playing Pokemon Go is to ourselves.
One thing I have noticed people (including my son and a few of my friends) having fun with is Pokemon Go. While they do, I wait for it to go the way of all fads, into oblivion.
I'll be honest, I simply do not see the attraction or the appeal of Pokemon Go, except perhaps for cell phone companies. I'm sure they simply love it. After all, Pokemon Go encourages players to use copious amounts of cell phone data searching for Poke-Stops and various Poke-creatures. I'm sure there hasn't been this much excitement about anything poke (or pokey) since the days of Gumby and his sidekick, Pokey.
There are those who credit Pokemon Go with encouraging people of all ages to exercise, as they walk around in searching of the ever elusive virtual beings. others say the game encourages teamwork. These are, to me, only incidental and accidental side benefits, icing on the cake that is increased profits for cell phone companies and a spike in the net worth of Pokemon's parent company, Nintendo.
I have to wonder how long that financial high can last before it comes crashing to earth just like a person on a sugar high crashes an hour or two after eating that last donut. My guess is that after one or two months of outrageous cell phone bills, a number of parents (and perhaps children who never grew up) will curtail the playing of Pokemon Go.
Of course, I could be wrong. Perhaps enough people have unlimited cell data plans or are already used to high cell phone bills that they won't say no to Go, at least not for that reason.
It may be that safety or crime prevention may hold the key to stopping Go. There have been reports of people trespassing onto the property of others to try and capture a Pokemon and at least one report of someone being shot and killed while playing the game.
Because I don't really pay attention to the game, except to the extent that my son continually talks about Pokemon, I don't know the validity of any of these stories. To me, Pokemon Go sounds like a slow Jamaican in need of a trip to the bathroom.
Thinking about it, though, I guess I can see some appeal. Many of the people who play Pokemon Go are likely also attracted to YouTube, reality television, and videos featuring animals doing something they probably shouldn't be doing or shouldn't be able to do.
There are a number of things I don't understand about Pokemon Go, why people play it simply being the most obvious. For example, although Nintendo's net worth skyrocketed after the game came out, I don't understand how the company makes money off of it, since the game is free to download and play. (I suspect there may have been a licensing fee paid to Nintendo by the game's developer, but that alone cannot justify the increase in net worth.)
I guess I also don't understand how we can hope other alien cultures (if they exist) will see in us signs of intelligent life if we are all convening at Poke-Stops, cell phones in hand, hoping to capture a Poliwhirl, a Charizard, or even a Squirtle. Perhaps that's the ultimate goal of Pokemon Go, to encourage alien cultures to pass us by and see us as no danger to them. At the rate we're going, I suspect the only danger we are going to pose while playing Pokemon Go is to ourselves.
Monday, June 13, 2016
#210 - Pardon Me, Lest I Offend
In the wake of the horrific shooting in Orlando, I have read a plethora of posts on social media ranging from those calling for love in the face of hate to those saying this was God's judgment on a godless America to one from a Facebook friend calling for the use of nuclear weapons on the Middle East in order to wipe ISIS off the face of the earth once and for all.
At some level, I understand the rage and the outrage, the anger and the desire for revenge and retribution. Getting even has been part of the human psyche for as long as there have been humans on the planet. (Cain and Abel, anyone?)
However, I think all of this misses the mark in that the true problem, in my mind, is being overlooked. So, at the risk of offending anyone who happens to stumble across this humble entry, let me tell you what I believe the real problem is. Hint: it isn't radical Muslims, Tea Party Republicans, leftist Democrats and gun control advocates, or President Obama. It is religion.
Many of my friends and family are professed Christians. As such, they might be prone to see other faiths as un-Godly. Some of them believe Muslims should not be allowed in this country. They see the actions of a relative handful of radical Muslims as an indictment of the entire religion and cite Islam's holy book, the Qur'an, in support.
One thing they forget is that at roughly the same stage of Christianity's development, some radical Christians engaged in a little "terrorism" of their own against Muslims (and Jews). You may remember it; it was a little thing we call the Holy Crusades.
Another thing many Christians forget in cherry-picking verses to support their views against this or in favor of that is that the Bible has other verses in support of things like slavery and polygamy and against things such as eating shellfish. Yet, Christianity has evolved to the point where slavery and polygamy are seen as wrong, and it is okay to enjoy a dish featuring your favorite crustacean (as long as you aren't concerned about mercury poisoning). Yet, Christians don't seem willing to allow for that same evolution in another faith.
This is all a roundabout way of getting to the main point I want to try to make. I do believe there is a God or Higher Power. I don't believe any religion has a true handle on that higher power. I think most, if not all faiths have selected aspects of that Higher Power to support whatever agenda was being supported at the time the faith's holy texts were being composed.
In the simplest terms, God is God. Love is love. God is love. There is more than one way to reach the mountaintop, but we need to help one another, Christian or Jew, Muslim or Hindu, to make the climb. Together.
At some level, I understand the rage and the outrage, the anger and the desire for revenge and retribution. Getting even has been part of the human psyche for as long as there have been humans on the planet. (Cain and Abel, anyone?)
However, I think all of this misses the mark in that the true problem, in my mind, is being overlooked. So, at the risk of offending anyone who happens to stumble across this humble entry, let me tell you what I believe the real problem is. Hint: it isn't radical Muslims, Tea Party Republicans, leftist Democrats and gun control advocates, or President Obama. It is religion.
Many of my friends and family are professed Christians. As such, they might be prone to see other faiths as un-Godly. Some of them believe Muslims should not be allowed in this country. They see the actions of a relative handful of radical Muslims as an indictment of the entire religion and cite Islam's holy book, the Qur'an, in support.
One thing they forget is that at roughly the same stage of Christianity's development, some radical Christians engaged in a little "terrorism" of their own against Muslims (and Jews). You may remember it; it was a little thing we call the Holy Crusades.
Another thing many Christians forget in cherry-picking verses to support their views against this or in favor of that is that the Bible has other verses in support of things like slavery and polygamy and against things such as eating shellfish. Yet, Christianity has evolved to the point where slavery and polygamy are seen as wrong, and it is okay to enjoy a dish featuring your favorite crustacean (as long as you aren't concerned about mercury poisoning). Yet, Christians don't seem willing to allow for that same evolution in another faith.
This is all a roundabout way of getting to the main point I want to try to make. I do believe there is a God or Higher Power. I don't believe any religion has a true handle on that higher power. I think most, if not all faiths have selected aspects of that Higher Power to support whatever agenda was being supported at the time the faith's holy texts were being composed.
In the simplest terms, God is God. Love is love. God is love. There is more than one way to reach the mountaintop, but we need to help one another, Christian or Jew, Muslim or Hindu, to make the climb. Together.
Friday, May 27, 2016
#209 - In Memoriam
Today marks the start of Memorial Day weekend. It is a day and a weekend that is, in many ways, schizophrenic.
On the one hand, the three-day Memorial Day weekend is seen by many as the unofficial start of summer. It means camping, grilling, and drinking (although it could be asked who needs a holiday weekend for that). For those of us with children still in school, it also means we're just about at the start of summer vacation, and for some, the panic as to how to find their child's time.
On the other hand, the holiday itself is a day for remembering and reflecting on the sacrifice of those who gave their lives in the military service of this nation. I suspect for most of us, while this aspect of the holiday is there on the periphery of our consciousness, the thoughts will be more of getting outside and spending time with family.
Not that there is anything wrong with that. (I know I've often had this mindset.) After all, the freedom to do just that is part of what so many men and women fought and died to protect.
It is also true that most of us have never and will never serve in the military. I have never served, although I came close a couple of times. The draft was eliminated the year before I turned 18, although I did still have to register just in case.
Several years later, I considered enlisting in the Navy because my first go-round in college had not gone so well, and I was interested in a career writing, something I was told I could get training for as part of my service. That flirtation with military service ended when I decided not to sign the enlistment papers after it was suggested I not mention any physical ailments and injuries I had.
As a result, I never served. Nor did my father; he was old enough to serve in World War II, but could not pass the physical. While some other members of my family have served in the military, most of them did so either in times of peace or when I was far away from them and unaware.
Perhaps because of that lack of proximity, I and many others tend to forget or at least not fully grasp the true reason for the holiday. Allow me to remedy that now.
To those of you who have served or currently serve in the military, thank you for your service. To those of you with family members who have served or who currently serve in the military, thank you for sharing them with the nation.
Finally, for those of you with family members who paid the ultimate price for our freedom, thank you for their sacrifice. That gratitude seems a small enough price to pay in return for the price they and you have paid. The nation is in your debt.
On the one hand, the three-day Memorial Day weekend is seen by many as the unofficial start of summer. It means camping, grilling, and drinking (although it could be asked who needs a holiday weekend for that). For those of us with children still in school, it also means we're just about at the start of summer vacation, and for some, the panic as to how to find their child's time.
On the other hand, the holiday itself is a day for remembering and reflecting on the sacrifice of those who gave their lives in the military service of this nation. I suspect for most of us, while this aspect of the holiday is there on the periphery of our consciousness, the thoughts will be more of getting outside and spending time with family.
Not that there is anything wrong with that. (I know I've often had this mindset.) After all, the freedom to do just that is part of what so many men and women fought and died to protect.
It is also true that most of us have never and will never serve in the military. I have never served, although I came close a couple of times. The draft was eliminated the year before I turned 18, although I did still have to register just in case.
Several years later, I considered enlisting in the Navy because my first go-round in college had not gone so well, and I was interested in a career writing, something I was told I could get training for as part of my service. That flirtation with military service ended when I decided not to sign the enlistment papers after it was suggested I not mention any physical ailments and injuries I had.
As a result, I never served. Nor did my father; he was old enough to serve in World War II, but could not pass the physical. While some other members of my family have served in the military, most of them did so either in times of peace or when I was far away from them and unaware.
Perhaps because of that lack of proximity, I and many others tend to forget or at least not fully grasp the true reason for the holiday. Allow me to remedy that now.
To those of you who have served or currently serve in the military, thank you for your service. To those of you with family members who have served or who currently serve in the military, thank you for sharing them with the nation.
Finally, for those of you with family members who paid the ultimate price for our freedom, thank you for their sacrifice. That gratitude seems a small enough price to pay in return for the price they and you have paid. The nation is in your debt.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
#208 - Trump, No Trump
"Publicity can be terrible. But only if you don't have any." - Jane Russell
"There is no such thing as bad publicity except your own obituary." - Brendan Behan
"I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people." - William Shakespeare
This is not actually a political post. Okay, it is. A little. This post is about Donald Trump, but it is not about my views on Trump or his politics. What this post is about is some recent experiences having to do with Donald Trump.
Now that Trump is the presumptive Presidential nominee of the Republican party, his campaign is swinging into general election mode. (Is it me or does the word "presumptive" sound like something you might associate with a disease such as tuberculosis?) Of course, we all know what that means - talk about the Democrats (or the Republicans depending on which party you are campaigning for), speeches geared more toward winning an election than toward winning a party's nomination, and the dreaded robo-calls.
One day last week, I received four such calls from the Trump campaign in the course of a few hours. Since I hung up on each call after a few seconds, I can only conclude the call-backs were based on an assumption I was having phone trouble and that the campaign never entertained the possibility I was not interested in the message. (My own assumption is that political campaigns often assume political views based on geographical location.)
I have been called by the Trump campaign (or on behalf of it) close to a dozen times now, and each call has started out the exact same way. My assumption is that they want to make sure I hear and understand the first message before additional messages are sent my way, but who knows?
My other recent experience having to do with Donald Trump is more disconcerting or surreal, depending on how you view such things.
This past Friday, we went out to a local restaurant/bar to have a few drinks and listen to some live local music. Behind the bar, big-screen television was playing with no sound. The channel on display was what I must now refer to as The Network Formerly Known As CNN.
During the three hours we were at this local establishment, every story I happened to see displayed on the television screen had to do with Donald Trump in some way, shape, or form: Trump disavowing controversial comments made by his former butler, Trump stating that his call for a ban on travel by Muslims to the United States was "only a suggestion," Trump denying that he once posed as his own publicist in a series of telephone calls to news outlets in the early 1990s.
Okay, perhaps not every story dealt with Trump - one headline did state that Bill Clinton feels Hillary is facing the same kinds of attacks he faced in 1992, and the news ticker underneath did stream a few non-Trump related headlines at a speed few people would read - but you get the general idea.
It reminds me a little of the old joke, "I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out."
I came away from the evening glad that I no longer work in anything remotely related to journalism and also glad that I am more interested these days in music than in politics. I have a much better grip on my own personal sanity and my blood pressure as a result.
I am also forced to conclude that we have helped to create the ineffectual government we complain about by allowing the creation of Super PACs where donors can hide behind a cloak of anonymity; by allowing unlimited spending on political campaigns, thereby forcing our elected officials to spend a disproportionate amount of their time on raising money toward and campaigning for re-election; by replacing true debate on issues with 30-second soundbites and Facebook memes; and by the 24-hour news cycle and the desire to be first.
I decided to close with a quote from Edward R. Murrow, still seen by some in the industry as the patron saint of broadcast journalism. I had a plethora of quotes to choose from, but I'll close with these:
"The speed of communications is wondrous to behold. It is also true that speed can multiply the distribution of information that we know to be untrue."
"We are in the same tent as the clowns and the freaks — that's show business."
"There is no such thing as bad publicity except your own obituary." - Brendan Behan
"I have bought golden opinions from all sorts of people." - William Shakespeare
This is not actually a political post. Okay, it is. A little. This post is about Donald Trump, but it is not about my views on Trump or his politics. What this post is about is some recent experiences having to do with Donald Trump.
Now that Trump is the presumptive Presidential nominee of the Republican party, his campaign is swinging into general election mode. (Is it me or does the word "presumptive" sound like something you might associate with a disease such as tuberculosis?) Of course, we all know what that means - talk about the Democrats (or the Republicans depending on which party you are campaigning for), speeches geared more toward winning an election than toward winning a party's nomination, and the dreaded robo-calls.
One day last week, I received four such calls from the Trump campaign in the course of a few hours. Since I hung up on each call after a few seconds, I can only conclude the call-backs were based on an assumption I was having phone trouble and that the campaign never entertained the possibility I was not interested in the message. (My own assumption is that political campaigns often assume political views based on geographical location.)
I have been called by the Trump campaign (or on behalf of it) close to a dozen times now, and each call has started out the exact same way. My assumption is that they want to make sure I hear and understand the first message before additional messages are sent my way, but who knows?
My other recent experience having to do with Donald Trump is more disconcerting or surreal, depending on how you view such things.
This past Friday, we went out to a local restaurant/bar to have a few drinks and listen to some live local music. Behind the bar, big-screen television was playing with no sound. The channel on display was what I must now refer to as The Network Formerly Known As CNN.
During the three hours we were at this local establishment, every story I happened to see displayed on the television screen had to do with Donald Trump in some way, shape, or form: Trump disavowing controversial comments made by his former butler, Trump stating that his call for a ban on travel by Muslims to the United States was "only a suggestion," Trump denying that he once posed as his own publicist in a series of telephone calls to news outlets in the early 1990s.
Okay, perhaps not every story dealt with Trump - one headline did state that Bill Clinton feels Hillary is facing the same kinds of attacks he faced in 1992, and the news ticker underneath did stream a few non-Trump related headlines at a speed few people would read - but you get the general idea.
It reminds me a little of the old joke, "I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out."
I came away from the evening glad that I no longer work in anything remotely related to journalism and also glad that I am more interested these days in music than in politics. I have a much better grip on my own personal sanity and my blood pressure as a result.
I am also forced to conclude that we have helped to create the ineffectual government we complain about by allowing the creation of Super PACs where donors can hide behind a cloak of anonymity; by allowing unlimited spending on political campaigns, thereby forcing our elected officials to spend a disproportionate amount of their time on raising money toward and campaigning for re-election; by replacing true debate on issues with 30-second soundbites and Facebook memes; and by the 24-hour news cycle and the desire to be first.
I decided to close with a quote from Edward R. Murrow, still seen by some in the industry as the patron saint of broadcast journalism. I had a plethora of quotes to choose from, but I'll close with these:
"The speed of communications is wondrous to behold. It is also true that speed can multiply the distribution of information that we know to be untrue."
"We are in the same tent as the clowns and the freaks — that's show business."
Saturday, May 7, 2016
#207 - Another Year Older, Not Deeper In Debt
I'm resisting the temptation to quote from "Sixteen Tons" by Tennessee Ernie Ford, not because I have a remarkable sense of restraint, but because I think I did that very thing in a blog post made in a galaxy far, far away.
My posting frequency to this blog has dropped dramatically in recent months. In part, that's because I have been writing and posting with some frequency to my music/poetry blog, My Wordsmithing. The other reason has been nearly everything I feel compelled to write about is either political or religious, and a part of me thinks there is already too much political and religious noise cluttering up the bandwidth.
Thankfully, in this post I don't have to. You see, yesterday marked the 20th birthday of our son. They have been the most challenging, exasperating, and rewarding years of my life. I'm sure there are some other adjectives I could throw out there, not all of them suitable for family consumption.
These 20 years have been challenging because there have been many times when we have wondered what exactly our autistic son is and will be capable of doing for himself as he transitions into adulthood. The answer, as I have learned, is - more than we think.
As parents of a special needs child, I think the tendency is even greater to want to try and protect them from the outside world. The danger in doing so is that we and they never learn what they are truly capable of doing for themselves. As our son has grown into a young man, I have tried to restrain that urge to overprotect. As a father whose own mother worked a lot of nights and whose father was not around while I was growing up, turning that urge off has been even harder.
These 20 years have been exasperating in part because I have realized I am not that great as a father. I suppose I can blame a large part of that on not having good role models while I was growing up, but the fact remains that I am still learning.
The last seven of those 20 years have been particularly exasperating because our son has been, well, a teenager. Although there are some things other teens can do that our son cannot (such as drive), in many ways, our son has been a typical teenager, often not wanting to do the same things as his parents and often spending large chunks of his time in his bedroom with the door closed. I was prepared to say "doing God knows what," and to anticipate the likely response from readers. In this case, though, I know what he is usually doing - playing video games or watching YouTube videos about playing video games.
I suppose these past 20 years have also been exasperating in that our son often will express an interest in this or that and then do nothing to pursue said interest. I have certainly tried to nudge him in the direction of those interests, but I realize I cannot push too hard because in this respect he is a good deal like me. (For many years, I told anyone who would listen that I one day wanted to write a novel. While I have made a few starts, I realized I don't have the patience or the discipline to sit down and do that.)
These 20 years have also been rewarding. One selfish reason for that is that, unlike my own father, I stuck around. That alone likely moves me near the middle of the pack when it comes to fatherhood rankings.
These past two decades have also be rewarding as we have watched our son continually confound, surprise, and exceed the expectations of the so-called experts on autism. He has long been what I term a square peg trying to fit into a round hole kind of world.
I think, though, perhaps the opposite is true and that he is the round peg trying to fit into the world's square hole. Teachers and other experts have always had a hard time trying to get a handle on our son's interests, capabilities, triggers, and the like.
We have long suspected he was capable of much more than the system asked of him, and the last few years have proven us right. The challenge, however, remains finding the proper outlets and channels for those capabilities and the right people to guide him.
While there will always be some things our son will not be able to do, there are, I suspect, things he will be able to do that others cannot. He just needs a little help, a bit of support, and a gentle nudge now and again.
In a little while, we will sit down to cake and presents and celebrate the fact that our son is now 20. The first 20 years have been a remarkable ride. I suspect the next 20 years will be even more remarkable, and I can't wait to find out what great things we will see along the way. Happy birthday, Christopher!
My posting frequency to this blog has dropped dramatically in recent months. In part, that's because I have been writing and posting with some frequency to my music/poetry blog, My Wordsmithing. The other reason has been nearly everything I feel compelled to write about is either political or religious, and a part of me thinks there is already too much political and religious noise cluttering up the bandwidth.
Thankfully, in this post I don't have to. You see, yesterday marked the 20th birthday of our son. They have been the most challenging, exasperating, and rewarding years of my life. I'm sure there are some other adjectives I could throw out there, not all of them suitable for family consumption.
These 20 years have been challenging because there have been many times when we have wondered what exactly our autistic son is and will be capable of doing for himself as he transitions into adulthood. The answer, as I have learned, is - more than we think.
As parents of a special needs child, I think the tendency is even greater to want to try and protect them from the outside world. The danger in doing so is that we and they never learn what they are truly capable of doing for themselves. As our son has grown into a young man, I have tried to restrain that urge to overprotect. As a father whose own mother worked a lot of nights and whose father was not around while I was growing up, turning that urge off has been even harder.
These 20 years have been exasperating in part because I have realized I am not that great as a father. I suppose I can blame a large part of that on not having good role models while I was growing up, but the fact remains that I am still learning.
The last seven of those 20 years have been particularly exasperating because our son has been, well, a teenager. Although there are some things other teens can do that our son cannot (such as drive), in many ways, our son has been a typical teenager, often not wanting to do the same things as his parents and often spending large chunks of his time in his bedroom with the door closed. I was prepared to say "doing God knows what," and to anticipate the likely response from readers. In this case, though, I know what he is usually doing - playing video games or watching YouTube videos about playing video games.
I suppose these past 20 years have also been exasperating in that our son often will express an interest in this or that and then do nothing to pursue said interest. I have certainly tried to nudge him in the direction of those interests, but I realize I cannot push too hard because in this respect he is a good deal like me. (For many years, I told anyone who would listen that I one day wanted to write a novel. While I have made a few starts, I realized I don't have the patience or the discipline to sit down and do that.)
These 20 years have also been rewarding. One selfish reason for that is that, unlike my own father, I stuck around. That alone likely moves me near the middle of the pack when it comes to fatherhood rankings.
These past two decades have also be rewarding as we have watched our son continually confound, surprise, and exceed the expectations of the so-called experts on autism. He has long been what I term a square peg trying to fit into a round hole kind of world.
I think, though, perhaps the opposite is true and that he is the round peg trying to fit into the world's square hole. Teachers and other experts have always had a hard time trying to get a handle on our son's interests, capabilities, triggers, and the like.
We have long suspected he was capable of much more than the system asked of him, and the last few years have proven us right. The challenge, however, remains finding the proper outlets and channels for those capabilities and the right people to guide him.
While there will always be some things our son will not be able to do, there are, I suspect, things he will be able to do that others cannot. He just needs a little help, a bit of support, and a gentle nudge now and again.
In a little while, we will sit down to cake and presents and celebrate the fact that our son is now 20. The first 20 years have been a remarkable ride. I suspect the next 20 years will be even more remarkable, and I can't wait to find out what great things we will see along the way. Happy birthday, Christopher!
Saturday, April 16, 2016
#206 - Wow, Has It Really Been A Month?
I knew it had been a while since I last posted anything, but I looked and found out it has been just over a month since my last entry. Much too long.
I suppose one reason for the gap in posts is that I haven't really felt I had anything to say. Every time I thought about making an entry, I shied away. Why? Because the two topics that kept coming to mind, religion and politics, were not something I felt like trying to write about.
It isn't that I don't have strong positions on both subjects; I do. However, I also know that my views in each area put me at odds with, I suspect, most of my family and friends. Not that that alone would stop me. On the other hand, it could be argued that if one is making a noise simply to make a noise, what is the point.
I suppose that also holds for saying something simply to say something, although it could be argued that is exactly what I am doing here. Point taken. So I have chosen not to compound things by adding politics or religion to the mix.
Music or musical tastes might be an equally dangerous topic, but here goes. Last night, the family went to see Elvis Costello and opening act Larkin Poe at the Egyptian Theater, a wonderful art deco style theater in the heart of downtown Boise.
Our son has been exposed to Costello's music off and on throughout his life, but last night was his first live exposure to the man. My wife and I had been lucky enough to see him eleven years previous, and I was interested to see how this show compared aside from the much higher ticket prices.
Both shows were equally good in my mind, yet were night and day to one another. The first show, in 2005, took place in a smaller club and was mainly standing room only. The concert itself was electric and everyone in the crowd, aged 15 to 50 or so, seemed a part of that excitement.
One other thing I remember about that first concert is that Elvis himself did not interact that much with the crowd. He would do three or four songs in a row and not say anything in-between. Not that he was different or impersonal. It was just that the show was completely about the music.
Part of that may also have been due to the fact that he had been briefly hospitalized a few weeks earlier for an illness that had already caused him to postpone this show and led to cancellation of a few other dates. (One thing making the two shows somewhat similar is the fact that Elvis seemed to be fighting a bit of a cold last night.)
Fast forward to 2016. Elvis could now be seen as an elder statesman of rock (he turns 62 this year) and is certainly known and respected by many music lovers for his encyclopedia knowledge of musical styles and artists unknown to casual listeners but who were influential to many performers, including Costello himself.
The 2016 show, even though it took place in a slightly larger venue, was much more intimate in feel. Part of that was no doubt due to the fact that we all had places to sit, helping to make the event feel as if we had all been invited to an informal gathering of friends to laugh and sing a bit.
Also bumping up the intimacy factor was the interspersing of personal stories, anecdotes, and jokes between songs. These drew upon and were an extension of the stories related in last year's wonderful memoir Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink. The stories themselves were punctuated by various pictures and graphics displayed behind Elvis on a giant box made to look like a television set from the 1960s.
The third aspect of last night's show that made it seem and feel more intimate is that, aside from the final 30 minutes or so when he performed with his opening act Larkin Poe, the show was a musical monologue, just Elvis and his guitar (or one of the ten or so he had on stage to choose from, most of them acoustic) or piano.
In addition to the pictures of his parents and from his childhood on display, the piano added emphasized the more familial feel of this show, as it belonged to his wife, noted jazz singer and pianist Diana Krall.
Elvis mixed older and newer songs together, giving each a slightly different feel from the original to keep it fresh yet maintaining enough of the original version to make it familiar. On stage, he seemed relaxed and both content and comfortable with his musical legacy (even performing a number from Goodbye Cruel World, an album I believe he once referred to as his worst), a man perhaps finally comfortable in his own skin.
Others may mention that other Elvis, Presley, but to me, this Elvis is still king. Long may he reign.
I suppose one reason for the gap in posts is that I haven't really felt I had anything to say. Every time I thought about making an entry, I shied away. Why? Because the two topics that kept coming to mind, religion and politics, were not something I felt like trying to write about.
It isn't that I don't have strong positions on both subjects; I do. However, I also know that my views in each area put me at odds with, I suspect, most of my family and friends. Not that that alone would stop me. On the other hand, it could be argued that if one is making a noise simply to make a noise, what is the point.
I suppose that also holds for saying something simply to say something, although it could be argued that is exactly what I am doing here. Point taken. So I have chosen not to compound things by adding politics or religion to the mix.
Music or musical tastes might be an equally dangerous topic, but here goes. Last night, the family went to see Elvis Costello and opening act Larkin Poe at the Egyptian Theater, a wonderful art deco style theater in the heart of downtown Boise.
Our son has been exposed to Costello's music off and on throughout his life, but last night was his first live exposure to the man. My wife and I had been lucky enough to see him eleven years previous, and I was interested to see how this show compared aside from the much higher ticket prices.
Both shows were equally good in my mind, yet were night and day to one another. The first show, in 2005, took place in a smaller club and was mainly standing room only. The concert itself was electric and everyone in the crowd, aged 15 to 50 or so, seemed a part of that excitement.
One other thing I remember about that first concert is that Elvis himself did not interact that much with the crowd. He would do three or four songs in a row and not say anything in-between. Not that he was different or impersonal. It was just that the show was completely about the music.
Part of that may also have been due to the fact that he had been briefly hospitalized a few weeks earlier for an illness that had already caused him to postpone this show and led to cancellation of a few other dates. (One thing making the two shows somewhat similar is the fact that Elvis seemed to be fighting a bit of a cold last night.)
Fast forward to 2016. Elvis could now be seen as an elder statesman of rock (he turns 62 this year) and is certainly known and respected by many music lovers for his encyclopedia knowledge of musical styles and artists unknown to casual listeners but who were influential to many performers, including Costello himself.
The 2016 show, even though it took place in a slightly larger venue, was much more intimate in feel. Part of that was no doubt due to the fact that we all had places to sit, helping to make the event feel as if we had all been invited to an informal gathering of friends to laugh and sing a bit.
Also bumping up the intimacy factor was the interspersing of personal stories, anecdotes, and jokes between songs. These drew upon and were an extension of the stories related in last year's wonderful memoir Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink. The stories themselves were punctuated by various pictures and graphics displayed behind Elvis on a giant box made to look like a television set from the 1960s.
The third aspect of last night's show that made it seem and feel more intimate is that, aside from the final 30 minutes or so when he performed with his opening act Larkin Poe, the show was a musical monologue, just Elvis and his guitar (or one of the ten or so he had on stage to choose from, most of them acoustic) or piano.
In addition to the pictures of his parents and from his childhood on display, the piano added emphasized the more familial feel of this show, as it belonged to his wife, noted jazz singer and pianist Diana Krall.
Elvis mixed older and newer songs together, giving each a slightly different feel from the original to keep it fresh yet maintaining enough of the original version to make it familiar. On stage, he seemed relaxed and both content and comfortable with his musical legacy (even performing a number from Goodbye Cruel World, an album I believe he once referred to as his worst), a man perhaps finally comfortable in his own skin.
Others may mention that other Elvis, Presley, but to me, this Elvis is still king. Long may he reign.
Monday, March 14, 2016
#205 - A Nation Divided, Part 1
"A house divided against itself cannot stand." - Abraham Lincoln
First, a disclaimer. I pay little attention to the news these days, not because of the "distortion" and "fabrication" of stories in the "liberal media" (sorry, but when a small group of corporations controls nearly all mass media outlets, there is nothing "liberal" about it), but because, after spending more than a decade in broadcast journalism, I no longer need or desire the aggravation, stress, or depressing thoughts that come from watching or reading the news on a regular basis.
I do occasionally scan the headlines, and I read with utter amazement some of the things a handful of my Facebook friends post. As a result, I have come to the conclusion (suggested once before on this blog) that this nation, in its present form, is not long for this world.
We've reduced positions and arguments to their lowest common denominator (perhaps we always have). Serious discussion followed by consensus or compromise no longer exists, and we reduce issues and views to a black and white battle between two opposing sides when, in fact, there are likely a multitude of views and positions between those two polar extremes. Each extreme pushes back against the middle, further polarizing the other and driving the margins further apart.
I was told once by a former friend that as I got older I would become more conservative. That has not happened. Because of what I described in the previous paragraph, I have, if anything, become more progressive or liberal in my views.
For instance, I support Bernie Sanders' call to make college tuition free. Not because I want a lot of "free stuff" (as critics deride this stand) or believe I am "entitled" (another argument used against young people and certain classes of society, neither of which applies to me), but because I believe it is an investment in the future of this nation.
We need more scientists and engineers and doctors and philosophers, and the best way to get them is to make college affordable and available to those who are academically and intellectually able to attend without requiring those students to all but mortgage their futures in order to do so. I believe this country's decision to deregulate student loans (thereby allowing banks to charge higher interest rates and make the ultimate cost of college that much more expensive) was a huge mistake.
I believe affordable access to health care is a basic human right. By this, I don't simply mean access to hospital emergency rooms. I mean maintenance and preventative health care. One way to make and keep health care affordable it to make sure symptoms are treated before they become serious problems and require a hospital visit. A healthy people is a productive people, and I don't believe funneling the sick and the poor into and through overworked and overcrowded hospital emergency rooms is the best solution or the best use of health care resources.
I also believe that everyone working deserves to be paid a living wage. Conservatives will argue that some people work harder and deserve more or that those who want to succeed can. I don't disagree with the first part of that argument but believe the second part becomes less true every day (if it ever was true).
Not everyone can be a millionaire/billionaire and not everyone can own his/her own business. We will always need people to collect our garbage, to serve us in stores and restaurants, to clean in our businesses. Have we decided that these people are less worthwhile, less deserving because of what they do?
We complain about illegal immigration while making certain jobs so low-paying that only illegal immigrants can afford to take them. We believe certain jobs are not worth more than minimum wage and then complain about the service we receive from those workers. We complain about the quality of our education system while at the same time we pull our children out of public schools and put them into private or charter schools.
The very first phrase of the U.S. Constitution reads "We the people of the United States." It doesn't read "some of the people" or "only the people who are like us" or "those people who think like us." To me, "we the people" means all of us, which I believe means we have to do certain things and provide certain services for all of us, not simply those who can afford them. From where I sit, that means access to affordable and quality education and health care.
I've written all of this and realized I did not even touch on the one thing that inspired or provoked this post. I'll save that for another time.
First, a disclaimer. I pay little attention to the news these days, not because of the "distortion" and "fabrication" of stories in the "liberal media" (sorry, but when a small group of corporations controls nearly all mass media outlets, there is nothing "liberal" about it), but because, after spending more than a decade in broadcast journalism, I no longer need or desire the aggravation, stress, or depressing thoughts that come from watching or reading the news on a regular basis.
I do occasionally scan the headlines, and I read with utter amazement some of the things a handful of my Facebook friends post. As a result, I have come to the conclusion (suggested once before on this blog) that this nation, in its present form, is not long for this world.
We've reduced positions and arguments to their lowest common denominator (perhaps we always have). Serious discussion followed by consensus or compromise no longer exists, and we reduce issues and views to a black and white battle between two opposing sides when, in fact, there are likely a multitude of views and positions between those two polar extremes. Each extreme pushes back against the middle, further polarizing the other and driving the margins further apart.
I was told once by a former friend that as I got older I would become more conservative. That has not happened. Because of what I described in the previous paragraph, I have, if anything, become more progressive or liberal in my views.
For instance, I support Bernie Sanders' call to make college tuition free. Not because I want a lot of "free stuff" (as critics deride this stand) or believe I am "entitled" (another argument used against young people and certain classes of society, neither of which applies to me), but because I believe it is an investment in the future of this nation.
We need more scientists and engineers and doctors and philosophers, and the best way to get them is to make college affordable and available to those who are academically and intellectually able to attend without requiring those students to all but mortgage their futures in order to do so. I believe this country's decision to deregulate student loans (thereby allowing banks to charge higher interest rates and make the ultimate cost of college that much more expensive) was a huge mistake.
I believe affordable access to health care is a basic human right. By this, I don't simply mean access to hospital emergency rooms. I mean maintenance and preventative health care. One way to make and keep health care affordable it to make sure symptoms are treated before they become serious problems and require a hospital visit. A healthy people is a productive people, and I don't believe funneling the sick and the poor into and through overworked and overcrowded hospital emergency rooms is the best solution or the best use of health care resources.
I also believe that everyone working deserves to be paid a living wage. Conservatives will argue that some people work harder and deserve more or that those who want to succeed can. I don't disagree with the first part of that argument but believe the second part becomes less true every day (if it ever was true).
Not everyone can be a millionaire/billionaire and not everyone can own his/her own business. We will always need people to collect our garbage, to serve us in stores and restaurants, to clean in our businesses. Have we decided that these people are less worthwhile, less deserving because of what they do?
We complain about illegal immigration while making certain jobs so low-paying that only illegal immigrants can afford to take them. We believe certain jobs are not worth more than minimum wage and then complain about the service we receive from those workers. We complain about the quality of our education system while at the same time we pull our children out of public schools and put them into private or charter schools.
The very first phrase of the U.S. Constitution reads "We the people of the United States." It doesn't read "some of the people" or "only the people who are like us" or "those people who think like us." To me, "we the people" means all of us, which I believe means we have to do certain things and provide certain services for all of us, not simply those who can afford them. From where I sit, that means access to affordable and quality education and health care.
I've written all of this and realized I did not even touch on the one thing that inspired or provoked this post. I'll save that for another time.
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
#204 - Walk a Mile
"Hey, before you abuse, criticize, and accuse, walk a mile in my shoes." - Joe South
In the aftermath of what some have called one of the worst played and most boring Super Bowls ever, I have read with interest and a touch of dismay the steady torrent of criticism and abuse leveled at Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton. I have a very slight vested interest because my wife went to Auburn and has converted me into an Auburn Tiger and, in the process, a Cam Newton fan.
This post is not going to be a defense of Cam Newton or attempt to explain what he did or didn't do or say pre, mid, or post-Super Bowl. Instead, I want to discuss this from the angle of being a symptom of a bigger issue.
At first, I jumped in and attempted to stand up for Newton, not that he needs me or anyone else to do so. This morning, though, I had a bit of an epiphany and realized that this situation illustrates a problem we as human being have and had have, perhaps since Adam and Eve walked around in the Garden of Eden.
We as a species are quick to attack, disparage, deny, criticize, and otherwise denigrate that which is different from us or that which we do not understand. Cam Newton's behaviors and reactions are just one example. Other examples include climate change, same-sex marriage, Islam, and in my case, the continuing popularity of Justin Bieber. (Let's not even get into the political arena. We could be here for days.)
Some, perhaps even most of this is no doubt cultural. We grew up white or Southern Baptist or in the 1960s and therefore can't understand the popularity of hip-hop. In some cases, it may be because that thing we speak out against stands in the way of something we support. In the case of Cam Newton, part of that would be because the Carolina Panthers are not your team or they beat your team.
Part of this is perhaps also due to age. Most of the negative comments I've seen regarding Cam Newton seem to come from a certain demographic, the over-40 crowd. As a member of this crowd myself, I can certainly understand. As we age, many of us become even more resistant to change and to that which is different from us.
Yes, there are those of us who seek out new adventures and experiences as we get older, but many of us prefer the familiar or at least seek to filter those new adventures and experiences through something familiar. (An example of this might be finally deciding to travel but going on a cruise or a tour so as to be with other people like you and in somewhat familiar surroundings.)
I don't know that there is an answer or solution short of genetic engineering to make everyone the same in future generations. I also know some reading this will be quick to point out a line later in Joe South's song, so let me save you the trouble:
In the aftermath of what some have called one of the worst played and most boring Super Bowls ever, I have read with interest and a touch of dismay the steady torrent of criticism and abuse leveled at Carolina Panthers quarterback Cam Newton. I have a very slight vested interest because my wife went to Auburn and has converted me into an Auburn Tiger and, in the process, a Cam Newton fan.
This post is not going to be a defense of Cam Newton or attempt to explain what he did or didn't do or say pre, mid, or post-Super Bowl. Instead, I want to discuss this from the angle of being a symptom of a bigger issue.
At first, I jumped in and attempted to stand up for Newton, not that he needs me or anyone else to do so. This morning, though, I had a bit of an epiphany and realized that this situation illustrates a problem we as human being have and had have, perhaps since Adam and Eve walked around in the Garden of Eden.
We as a species are quick to attack, disparage, deny, criticize, and otherwise denigrate that which is different from us or that which we do not understand. Cam Newton's behaviors and reactions are just one example. Other examples include climate change, same-sex marriage, Islam, and in my case, the continuing popularity of Justin Bieber. (Let's not even get into the political arena. We could be here for days.)
Some, perhaps even most of this is no doubt cultural. We grew up white or Southern Baptist or in the 1960s and therefore can't understand the popularity of hip-hop. In some cases, it may be because that thing we speak out against stands in the way of something we support. In the case of Cam Newton, part of that would be because the Carolina Panthers are not your team or they beat your team.
Part of this is perhaps also due to age. Most of the negative comments I've seen regarding Cam Newton seem to come from a certain demographic, the over-40 crowd. As a member of this crowd myself, I can certainly understand. As we age, many of us become even more resistant to change and to that which is different from us.
Yes, there are those of us who seek out new adventures and experiences as we get older, but many of us prefer the familiar or at least seek to filter those new adventures and experiences through something familiar. (An example of this might be finally deciding to travel but going on a cruise or a tour so as to be with other people like you and in somewhat familiar surroundings.)
I don't know that there is an answer or solution short of genetic engineering to make everyone the same in future generations. I also know some reading this will be quick to point out a line later in Joe South's song, so let me save you the trouble:
Now your whole world you see around you is just a reflection, and the law of Karma says you're gonna reap just what you sow.Those people will say Cam Newton is getting just what he deserves. Perhaps they should read the very next line of the song:
So unless you've live a life of total perfection, you'd better be careful of every stone that you should throw.Now back to our regularly scheduled stone throwing.
Friday, January 22, 2016
#203 - Movie Night
Tonight at the dinner table, my wife proclaimed that tonight was going to be movie night, and that the three of us were going to be in the same room together and watch a movie. Together.
Now that doesn't sound all that revolutionary or radical. Until, that is, you realize she is often asleep (either in bed or on the couch) by 8 p.m., and our son is a teenager who, I suspect, would sometimes be happier to not admit to having parents that to actually spend time with them. In fact, his first reaction to her pronouncement was to say "I'm not sure I'm up to that."
Nevertheless, the three of us adjourned after dinner to the family room, turned on the television, fired up the Roku, launched Netflix, and promptly stalled trying to decide what to watch. But she was not to be deterred.
Since our son has on occasion voiced an interest in making videos (which more often than not actually means he was to make a video of himself playing a video game as opposed to making an actual movie), my wife decided to launch an episode of Hollywood's Greatest Film Directors featuring Barry Levinson, director of Diner, Bugsy, and Rain Man, amongst others.
We also made it through that episode (which I found very interesting), so we decided to push our luck and try an actual movie. She chose a documentary about young magicians preparing to compete for the title of Teen Champion during the World Magic Seminar in Las Vegas.
Part way through Make Believe (2010), we lost one of the three viewers as my wife dozed off. That is not a commentary on the quality of the film, though. I found it very interesting, and the young magician I was most rooting for actually won.
When you watch a movie on Netflix, after it ends the service provides three other recommendations, one of which usually makes no sense based on the film you've just seen. (I believe in the case of Make Believe, two of the recommendations were other documentaries while the third was for a horror film. Go figure.)
At this point, I guess you could say that our movie night had officially come to an end, as my wife woke long enough to move from the chair in which she had fallen asleep to the couch, where she promptly went back to sleep. Our son decided that was enough togetherness for one night and adjourned to his room to resume his usual routine of playing video games and watching videos about playing video games.
I decided to watch another movie and chose one about one of my all-time favorite comics, Don Rickles. Mr Warmth: The Don Rickles Project (2007) was directed by John Landis (National Lampoon's Animal House, The Blues Brothers, Beverly Hills Cop III, among others) and intersperses pieces of Rickles' Las Vegas act (and other performances) with interview clips from Rickles along with a number of celebrities who know or admire the man: Clint Eastwood, Martin Scorsese, Bob Newhart, Robin Williams, Chris Rock. Hilarious.
While the film didn't really discuss specifics, afterward I realized Rickles was in his 30s before he had any real success as a comic and nearly 40 before he really became a star. As he nears 90, he is still performing.
I hope I have something that continues to fire me up and interests me if I should reach that age.
Now that doesn't sound all that revolutionary or radical. Until, that is, you realize she is often asleep (either in bed or on the couch) by 8 p.m., and our son is a teenager who, I suspect, would sometimes be happier to not admit to having parents that to actually spend time with them. In fact, his first reaction to her pronouncement was to say "I'm not sure I'm up to that."
Nevertheless, the three of us adjourned after dinner to the family room, turned on the television, fired up the Roku, launched Netflix, and promptly stalled trying to decide what to watch. But she was not to be deterred.
Since our son has on occasion voiced an interest in making videos (which more often than not actually means he was to make a video of himself playing a video game as opposed to making an actual movie), my wife decided to launch an episode of Hollywood's Greatest Film Directors featuring Barry Levinson, director of Diner, Bugsy, and Rain Man, amongst others.
We also made it through that episode (which I found very interesting), so we decided to push our luck and try an actual movie. She chose a documentary about young magicians preparing to compete for the title of Teen Champion during the World Magic Seminar in Las Vegas.
Part way through Make Believe (2010), we lost one of the three viewers as my wife dozed off. That is not a commentary on the quality of the film, though. I found it very interesting, and the young magician I was most rooting for actually won.
When you watch a movie on Netflix, after it ends the service provides three other recommendations, one of which usually makes no sense based on the film you've just seen. (I believe in the case of Make Believe, two of the recommendations were other documentaries while the third was for a horror film. Go figure.)
At this point, I guess you could say that our movie night had officially come to an end, as my wife woke long enough to move from the chair in which she had fallen asleep to the couch, where she promptly went back to sleep. Our son decided that was enough togetherness for one night and adjourned to his room to resume his usual routine of playing video games and watching videos about playing video games.
I decided to watch another movie and chose one about one of my all-time favorite comics, Don Rickles. Mr Warmth: The Don Rickles Project (2007) was directed by John Landis (National Lampoon's Animal House, The Blues Brothers, Beverly Hills Cop III, among others) and intersperses pieces of Rickles' Las Vegas act (and other performances) with interview clips from Rickles along with a number of celebrities who know or admire the man: Clint Eastwood, Martin Scorsese, Bob Newhart, Robin Williams, Chris Rock. Hilarious.
While the film didn't really discuss specifics, afterward I realized Rickles was in his 30s before he had any real success as a comic and nearly 40 before he really became a star. As he nears 90, he is still performing.
I hope I have something that continues to fire me up and interests me if I should reach that age.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
#202 - Just Like Herding Cats
For months (maybe even years) Teresa and I have talked about doing various home improvement projects or having them done. Last month, we finally moved from the talking to the doing stage.
We decided to start with our family room and have a gas fireplace installed. Boise is prone to inversions during prime fireplace weather, and during an inversion there is often a ban on wood burning. Hence the decision to go with gas.
We went shopping and found a fireplace we liked. Someone from the dealer was to visit the house before we made the purchase just to check our situation and ensure the model we had chosen would actually work. He never showed up.
That turned out to be a good thing. We had our contractor open up the wall where the fireplace was to go so he and his crew could build the platform for supporting the fireplace. Upon opening the wall, his exact words to me were "the plot thickens."
Here is what the area looked like before the work began. The middle section juts out about eight inches from the two wall areas where the shelves are on either side. When we bought the house in 2003, we were told the house had been "plumbed" for a fireplace but that one had not been installed. We later found a fireplace door in the storage area above the garage. Because of that, we had no reason to suspect that the reality was any different.
However, after the contractor and his crew opened up the wall, we found out the situation was much different. Hence the reason for the ominous statement about the plot thickening.
It turns out there had been a wood-burning fireplace present all the time. Not only that, but at one time the fireplace had been used at least occasionally before the previous (original) owners of the house decided in their infinite wisdom to simply wall over the fireplace. They also decided not to mention it when selling the house. Either through experience of simple dumb luck, the contractor's crew chose the perfect place to cut into the sheet rock if we had decided to stay with the wood fireplace.
Once the existing fireplace was revealed, we decided against a gas fireplace and went with its cousin, a gas fireplace insert that could be installed in the existing fireplace. We placed the order for that on December 8. We then had gas line installed, had that work inspected, and waited for the insert and the special-order surround to arrive.
We are still waiting. When I called the dealer yesterday, I was told the insert and surround had finally arrived, and we set up an appointment to have it installed tomorrow. Maybe.
The workers who put in the gas line also connected a test valve to test pressure in the line. Once the line passed inspection, someone was supposed to come back, remove the valve, and turn on the gas supply to the line. We are still waiting for that as well.
In the meantime, we are also trying to coordinate all of this with having some wiring done so we can place the television above the fireplace (cliché, I know, but it's really the only place in the room the TV works) and having wires run to be able to connect speakers and other entertainment peripherals yet not see all of the wires. Which means running them behind walls or through the ceiling.
We also want to replace the shelves with something more built-in looking, though the options we got for actual built-in cabinets and shelves were not that compelling. They were plenty pricey, though.
We have, I think, decided on some DIY entertainment centers from IKEA for each side topped with bookcases of the same width. The plan is to secure the bookcases to the walls for added stability. Given the way various parts of the house were constructed, it could be as expensive as built-ins once framing and supports are added. We'll see.
The challenge for us is trying to coordinate everything, figuring out what comes next, scheduling, ordering, etc. We've never hired out home improvement before, so what could have been a one-week or two-week job if we'd been able to do it ourselves has now stretched out a month (most of that with no work being done as we wait for various parts, tests, etc.) with more to come.
You see, we haven't actually order the cabinetry yet, and that will likely take several weeks to arrive. On the other hand, we now have a nice pull-down door with ladder access to the storage area above the garage, something we had not even planned on doing at this time. However, since it is thus far the only completed job of this project, it does give us something to feel good about and a reason to think there might be light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, it could simply be an oncoming train.
We decided to start with our family room and have a gas fireplace installed. Boise is prone to inversions during prime fireplace weather, and during an inversion there is often a ban on wood burning. Hence the decision to go with gas.
We went shopping and found a fireplace we liked. Someone from the dealer was to visit the house before we made the purchase just to check our situation and ensure the model we had chosen would actually work. He never showed up.
That turned out to be a good thing. We had our contractor open up the wall where the fireplace was to go so he and his crew could build the platform for supporting the fireplace. Upon opening the wall, his exact words to me were "the plot thickens."
Here is what the area looked like before the work began. The middle section juts out about eight inches from the two wall areas where the shelves are on either side. When we bought the house in 2003, we were told the house had been "plumbed" for a fireplace but that one had not been installed. We later found a fireplace door in the storage area above the garage. Because of that, we had no reason to suspect that the reality was any different.However, after the contractor and his crew opened up the wall, we found out the situation was much different. Hence the reason for the ominous statement about the plot thickening.
Once the existing fireplace was revealed, we decided against a gas fireplace and went with its cousin, a gas fireplace insert that could be installed in the existing fireplace. We placed the order for that on December 8. We then had gas line installed, had that work inspected, and waited for the insert and the special-order surround to arrive.
We are still waiting. When I called the dealer yesterday, I was told the insert and surround had finally arrived, and we set up an appointment to have it installed tomorrow. Maybe.
The workers who put in the gas line also connected a test valve to test pressure in the line. Once the line passed inspection, someone was supposed to come back, remove the valve, and turn on the gas supply to the line. We are still waiting for that as well.
In the meantime, we are also trying to coordinate all of this with having some wiring done so we can place the television above the fireplace (cliché, I know, but it's really the only place in the room the TV works) and having wires run to be able to connect speakers and other entertainment peripherals yet not see all of the wires. Which means running them behind walls or through the ceiling.
We also want to replace the shelves with something more built-in looking, though the options we got for actual built-in cabinets and shelves were not that compelling. They were plenty pricey, though.
We have, I think, decided on some DIY entertainment centers from IKEA for each side topped with bookcases of the same width. The plan is to secure the bookcases to the walls for added stability. Given the way various parts of the house were constructed, it could be as expensive as built-ins once framing and supports are added. We'll see.
The challenge for us is trying to coordinate everything, figuring out what comes next, scheduling, ordering, etc. We've never hired out home improvement before, so what could have been a one-week or two-week job if we'd been able to do it ourselves has now stretched out a month (most of that with no work being done as we wait for various parts, tests, etc.) with more to come.
You see, we haven't actually order the cabinetry yet, and that will likely take several weeks to arrive. On the other hand, we now have a nice pull-down door with ladder access to the storage area above the garage, something we had not even planned on doing at this time. However, since it is thus far the only completed job of this project, it does give us something to feel good about and a reason to think there might be light at the end of the tunnel. Of course, it could simply be an oncoming train.
Monday, January 4, 2016
#201 - Random Thoughts
Hope everyone has recovered from the festivities surrounding the ringing out of 2015 and the ringing in of the new year. I wonder whether the ringing referred to is actually ringing in the ears caused by the fireworks some people insist on setting off to mark the beginning of the year. I do know my dog doesn't care for that tradition in the least.
This weekend, I watched the documentary "Best of Enemies" on Netflix. The film documents the use by ABC News of conservative pundit/commentator/publisher William F. Buckley, Jr. and liberal author/commentator Gore Vidal to help it make its mark during coverage of the 1968 Republican and Democratic Presidential conventions.
"Best of Enemies" does a good job of making the case that ABC's daring decision forever changed the way in which political conventions are covered while also serving as a harbinger for the future of television news and what has come to pass for debate. It goes on to also make the arguement that much of the foundation for today's sharp political divide and the resulting "culture wars" was laid during the 1968 election. Very interesting film.
I also finished reading "Unfaithful Music and Disappearing Ink," the compelling memoir of my favorite singer and songwriter, Elvis Costello. A few people have complained that the book is rambling and indulges itself too much in name-dropping, but I found the book fascinating and the "roaming" style perfectly lent itself to the conversational style of the writing, much in the same way that something said in a conversation might trigger the memory of something else.
In the book, Elvis does not let himself off the hook easily for mistakes made, although he does gloss over a bit the events that led to the demise of his backing band The Attractions and his falling out with original bassist Bruce Thomas. Perhaps that history is covered elsewhere, but hearing it from Elvis' own lips would have been welcome.
Now that the warm glow of holiday joy and half-hearted wishes for peace and love has subsided, I see that Facebook has returned to its usual stream of political bashing, snide remarks, and sophomoric insults that passes for civil discourse and debate in our 21st-century electronic society. I get the sense that some people feel their point is best made by a steady stream of similar posts that bombard the senses rather that a single, well-chosen, articulate post making their point. Debate by sledgehammer, I call it.
While finishing that last paragraph, I happened to glance up at my 2016 Grumpy Cat desk calendar. As is often the case, Grumpy Cat had what seemed to me the perfect way to punctuate my feelings about Facebook these days. From today's calendar entry: "I thought I couldn't be more disappointed. You proved me wrong." Funny, sad, and true all at the same time. You are wise beyond your years, O Grumpy One.
This weekend, I watched the documentary "Best of Enemies" on Netflix. The film documents the use by ABC News of conservative pundit/commentator/publisher William F. Buckley, Jr. and liberal author/commentator Gore Vidal to help it make its mark during coverage of the 1968 Republican and Democratic Presidential conventions.
"Best of Enemies" does a good job of making the case that ABC's daring decision forever changed the way in which political conventions are covered while also serving as a harbinger for the future of television news and what has come to pass for debate. It goes on to also make the arguement that much of the foundation for today's sharp political divide and the resulting "culture wars" was laid during the 1968 election. Very interesting film.
I also finished reading "Unfaithful Music and Disappearing Ink," the compelling memoir of my favorite singer and songwriter, Elvis Costello. A few people have complained that the book is rambling and indulges itself too much in name-dropping, but I found the book fascinating and the "roaming" style perfectly lent itself to the conversational style of the writing, much in the same way that something said in a conversation might trigger the memory of something else.
In the book, Elvis does not let himself off the hook easily for mistakes made, although he does gloss over a bit the events that led to the demise of his backing band The Attractions and his falling out with original bassist Bruce Thomas. Perhaps that history is covered elsewhere, but hearing it from Elvis' own lips would have been welcome.
Now that the warm glow of holiday joy and half-hearted wishes for peace and love has subsided, I see that Facebook has returned to its usual stream of political bashing, snide remarks, and sophomoric insults that passes for civil discourse and debate in our 21st-century electronic society. I get the sense that some people feel their point is best made by a steady stream of similar posts that bombard the senses rather that a single, well-chosen, articulate post making their point. Debate by sledgehammer, I call it.
While finishing that last paragraph, I happened to glance up at my 2016 Grumpy Cat desk calendar. As is often the case, Grumpy Cat had what seemed to me the perfect way to punctuate my feelings about Facebook these days. From today's calendar entry: "I thought I couldn't be more disappointed. You proved me wrong." Funny, sad, and true all at the same time. You are wise beyond your years, O Grumpy One.
Friday, January 1, 2016
#200 - Turn The Page
First, let me be the 912th person to wish you a Happy New Year. Okay, that's out of the way.
2016 is here and, as is the case with every year, it promises to be filled with ups and downs. New faces will become part of the landscape while familiar names will fade from the scene.
2016 brings with it another Presidential election, and some who are prone to exaggeration and hyperbole are sure the fate of our nation is at stake. For some, the election shapes up as a choice between caring for all of our citizens or caring for the select few. For others, the election is a chance to take back our country from the government and put it back in the hands of its citizenry. The truth, I suspect, is somewhere in-between.
As always, the start of a new year also means a chance for new beginnings. New Year's resolutions will be made - and broken and perhaps re-made and broken again. For years, I religiously made ten resolutions for the coming year. For years, I religiously broke every single one of them. Although I suppose now that is no longer strictly true.
For a number of years, I resolved to do something with and/or about my music. This past year, I finally did. So I guess you can say I'm batting one for 150 or thereabout.
This year, I've decided to make one, all-encompassing resolution. I resolve to do the best I can, to be the best person I can be, to be as happy as I can be on any single given day. I further resolve to worry about tomorrow tomorrow.
Whatever you may resolve for the coming year, I wish you success. Should you stumble and fall, try not to be too hard on yourself. Like me, you're only human.
If your list has room for one more resolution, let it be this. Resolve to be good to yourself in 2016. For if you are not good to yourself, you cannot be good to or be good for others. Happy New Year!
2016 is here and, as is the case with every year, it promises to be filled with ups and downs. New faces will become part of the landscape while familiar names will fade from the scene.
2016 brings with it another Presidential election, and some who are prone to exaggeration and hyperbole are sure the fate of our nation is at stake. For some, the election shapes up as a choice between caring for all of our citizens or caring for the select few. For others, the election is a chance to take back our country from the government and put it back in the hands of its citizenry. The truth, I suspect, is somewhere in-between.
As always, the start of a new year also means a chance for new beginnings. New Year's resolutions will be made - and broken and perhaps re-made and broken again. For years, I religiously made ten resolutions for the coming year. For years, I religiously broke every single one of them. Although I suppose now that is no longer strictly true.
For a number of years, I resolved to do something with and/or about my music. This past year, I finally did. So I guess you can say I'm batting one for 150 or thereabout.
This year, I've decided to make one, all-encompassing resolution. I resolve to do the best I can, to be the best person I can be, to be as happy as I can be on any single given day. I further resolve to worry about tomorrow tomorrow.
Whatever you may resolve for the coming year, I wish you success. Should you stumble and fall, try not to be too hard on yourself. Like me, you're only human.
If your list has room for one more resolution, let it be this. Resolve to be good to yourself in 2016. For if you are not good to yourself, you cannot be good to or be good for others. Happy New Year!
Thursday, December 31, 2015
#199 - One To Go
The title of this entry has a dual meaning. The first, perhaps more obvious meaning. refers to the fact that I write this on the last day of 2015. Hence the "one to go."
The other meaning refers to the number given this entry and the fact that I need one more post to reach 200 on this blog. Given that I began this blog in 2009, that is not a great deal of entries, especially when I intended several times to post more frequently.
However, those intentions never came to pass, either because I didn't have anything to say or because I didn't feel like it or I was simply too lazy. I've no illusions that will suddenly change in the coming year, but you never know.
2015 turned out to be a more eventful and event-filled years than someone of my advancing years might have any right or reason to expect. The year was a watershed for me musically as I got the opportunity to perform my songs publicly for the first time anywhere ouside of a couple of weddings more than 20 years earlier.
That came about thanks to the help of my talented wife Teresa, without whom my songs would simply be bad poems. With her help, I also recorded my first CD to send out to friends and family. (I say that as if there will be many more instead of it being perhaps my only CD, but who knows?) I still have roughly 50 copies if anyone wants to buy one.
In 2015, we also bought our first motorhome, a 2005 model that quickly became a home on wheels for us and something we hope to use even more in the coming year. Once the weather warms, that is.
Perhaps the biggest event of 2015 was our trip to Washington, DC with our son to celebrate his recognition as one of eight national winners of a playwriting competition sponsored by a division of the Kennedy Center. It was a whirlwind weekend that yielded material for a couple of songs, a couple of proud parents, and a lifetime of memories.
One of my Facebooks friends (and a former colleague/boss from my television days) shared a post that 2016 is going to be an amazing year. I hope it is, but it will have to go some to come close to, let alone top the amazing year that was 2015.
The other meaning refers to the number given this entry and the fact that I need one more post to reach 200 on this blog. Given that I began this blog in 2009, that is not a great deal of entries, especially when I intended several times to post more frequently.
However, those intentions never came to pass, either because I didn't have anything to say or because I didn't feel like it or I was simply too lazy. I've no illusions that will suddenly change in the coming year, but you never know.
2015 turned out to be a more eventful and event-filled years than someone of my advancing years might have any right or reason to expect. The year was a watershed for me musically as I got the opportunity to perform my songs publicly for the first time anywhere ouside of a couple of weddings more than 20 years earlier.
That came about thanks to the help of my talented wife Teresa, without whom my songs would simply be bad poems. With her help, I also recorded my first CD to send out to friends and family. (I say that as if there will be many more instead of it being perhaps my only CD, but who knows?) I still have roughly 50 copies if anyone wants to buy one.
In 2015, we also bought our first motorhome, a 2005 model that quickly became a home on wheels for us and something we hope to use even more in the coming year. Once the weather warms, that is.
Perhaps the biggest event of 2015 was our trip to Washington, DC with our son to celebrate his recognition as one of eight national winners of a playwriting competition sponsored by a division of the Kennedy Center. It was a whirlwind weekend that yielded material for a couple of songs, a couple of proud parents, and a lifetime of memories.
One of my Facebooks friends (and a former colleague/boss from my television days) shared a post that 2016 is going to be an amazing year. I hope it is, but it will have to go some to come close to, let alone top the amazing year that was 2015.
Thursday, December 24, 2015
#198 - A Merry Christmas Wish
Just a short post as I know most of us are busy with last-minute Christmas preparations.
'Tis the day before Christmas; the shopping is done.
The meal is in progress; the cooking's begun.
The family is gathered; they're all of good cheer.
Joyful and laughing now Christmas is here.
The presents are ready; the stockings are filled
The spirits are ready; the bubbly is chilled
All finished braving the crowds at the mall
One thing to say - Merry Christmas to all!
May your Christmas be filled with light and love and peace. Merry Christmas!
'Tis the day before Christmas; the shopping is done.
The meal is in progress; the cooking's begun.
The family is gathered; they're all of good cheer.
Joyful and laughing now Christmas is here.
The presents are ready; the stockings are filled
The spirits are ready; the bubbly is chilled
All finished braving the crowds at the mall
One thing to say - Merry Christmas to all!
May your Christmas be filled with light and love and peace. Merry Christmas!
Friday, December 4, 2015
#197 - Another Year In The Books
"St. Peter, don't you call me 'cause I can't go. I owe my soul to the company store."
Tennessee Ernie Ford, "Sixteen Tons"
Fortunately, as I prepare to turn the calendar on another year, I do not owe my soul to the company store or to any other store for that matter. I might owe myself an apology, though.
As I prepare to celebrate another year, I realize that in many ways my life is more fulfilling than ever. I am writing songs I am proud of and actually getting to share some of them with the outside world instead of keeping them hidden away. I only wish I'd done so sooner.
I've written songs now in five different decades. However, for most of that time, I lacked the courage and self-confidence to try to do anything with them. The up side is that I wrote most of my horrendous songs before I ever had the nerve to publicly share anything. The down side is that I let a lot of years go by before doing so.
On the other hand, I am finally sharing some of my songs, and the songs I am sharing are some of the best I've ever written. While I could wish I'd started sooner so as to maybe have a larger audience, the fact that any of my songs have had any audience at all is still very gratifying.
I think I'm learning that my time frames and my pace of life and doing things don't necessarily match up with how the rest of the world operates. Then again, I suspect I've really known that all along.
I am also coming to terms with and learning to accept the fact that I will never be mistaken for a bodybuilder or someone like Jack LaLanne. I like to eat; I like to drink; I don't like to exercise. I think that combination pretty much guarantees that I will look more like Mr. Potato Head than Mr. Universe.
It has taken a while, but I am learning that I have little power over the prejudice, the shortsightedness, or the narrow-mindedness of others. Nor do my shortcomings in various areas help to balance the scales.
I have learned that Facebook is not the place for serious discussion of issues. Nor is it the place to change minds or sway opinions. People will share what they believe and block what they don't, and seldom do the opposing views interact in any meaningful or civilized way.
In conjunction with that, I have learned that "social media," while sounding like a platform for people all over the world to come together and share thoughts, opinions, and ideas, is basically only a place for people to say hello, share recipes, post cat pictures, and express political half-truths. Once I realized these things, I became less frustrated with social media.
There is one other thing I've learned. In spite of the events of the past year, I remain an optimist and an idealist where the world is concerned. As John Lennon once sang, "You might say I'm a dreamer." Some might call me naive and foolish. So be it. I'd rather be naive and foolish and believe in the prospects for a better and more united world than to accept the alternative.
The way I see it, as look as I'm still dreaming, I'm still living. I've learned in the past year that dreams can come true even if not quite in the way originally imagined. So I'll keep on dreaming. Because every once in a while, the dream becomes reality. I hope you keep on dreaming as well.
Tennessee Ernie Ford, "Sixteen Tons"
Fortunately, as I prepare to turn the calendar on another year, I do not owe my soul to the company store or to any other store for that matter. I might owe myself an apology, though.
As I prepare to celebrate another year, I realize that in many ways my life is more fulfilling than ever. I am writing songs I am proud of and actually getting to share some of them with the outside world instead of keeping them hidden away. I only wish I'd done so sooner.
I've written songs now in five different decades. However, for most of that time, I lacked the courage and self-confidence to try to do anything with them. The up side is that I wrote most of my horrendous songs before I ever had the nerve to publicly share anything. The down side is that I let a lot of years go by before doing so.
On the other hand, I am finally sharing some of my songs, and the songs I am sharing are some of the best I've ever written. While I could wish I'd started sooner so as to maybe have a larger audience, the fact that any of my songs have had any audience at all is still very gratifying.
I think I'm learning that my time frames and my pace of life and doing things don't necessarily match up with how the rest of the world operates. Then again, I suspect I've really known that all along.
I am also coming to terms with and learning to accept the fact that I will never be mistaken for a bodybuilder or someone like Jack LaLanne. I like to eat; I like to drink; I don't like to exercise. I think that combination pretty much guarantees that I will look more like Mr. Potato Head than Mr. Universe.
It has taken a while, but I am learning that I have little power over the prejudice, the shortsightedness, or the narrow-mindedness of others. Nor do my shortcomings in various areas help to balance the scales.
I have learned that Facebook is not the place for serious discussion of issues. Nor is it the place to change minds or sway opinions. People will share what they believe and block what they don't, and seldom do the opposing views interact in any meaningful or civilized way.
In conjunction with that, I have learned that "social media," while sounding like a platform for people all over the world to come together and share thoughts, opinions, and ideas, is basically only a place for people to say hello, share recipes, post cat pictures, and express political half-truths. Once I realized these things, I became less frustrated with social media.
There is one other thing I've learned. In spite of the events of the past year, I remain an optimist and an idealist where the world is concerned. As John Lennon once sang, "You might say I'm a dreamer." Some might call me naive and foolish. So be it. I'd rather be naive and foolish and believe in the prospects for a better and more united world than to accept the alternative.
The way I see it, as look as I'm still dreaming, I'm still living. I've learned in the past year that dreams can come true even if not quite in the way originally imagined. So I'll keep on dreaming. Because every once in a while, the dream becomes reality. I hope you keep on dreaming as well.
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
#196 - And The Beat Goes On
Those of you under a certain age likely won't recognize the title of this post as the title of a big 1960s hit by husband and wife singing duo Sonny and Cher. Some of a certain age may remember Cher from some of her music videos in the 1980s and 1990s where she seemed determined to find out just how few clothes she could get away with not wearing. Fewer still may remember that Sonny later went on to become mayor of Palm Springs, California and a conservative Republican Congressman. (I'm still not sure where he took a wrong turn.)
Although all of that is, perhaps, mildly informative, it has nothing to do with the subject of this post. (Aren't you glad you read this far? I know I am.) In a sense, this blog post is really about nothing. Which also means it is about everything.
If you are anything like me (and for your sake, I hope you aren't), you might reasonably expect that once you reach a certain age, life might begin to slow down a bit, and you can finally take time to stop and smell the roses. Except that life really hasn't slowed down much, if at all.
Even though our son is now 19 and could, perhaps, be expected to be out on his own or at least fend for himself a bit more, it seems we are busier than ever with him. And when we aren't, we're busy with our own activities. He always has something going on. Or we do.
The fact that our son is autistic necessitates some of our involvement, even as he resists and struggles to assert his independence, a very normal step to take once you turn 19. For us, the challenge is trying to allow him to assert that independence while also trying to teach him and guide him so that he can be more independent even as we try to direct him. It's all very catch-22.
At the same time, I am entering almost a personal Golden Age of lyric writing, writing some of the best things I've ever written at an age when many songwriters are either resting on their laurels or struggling to find things to write about. (Since I have no laurels to rest on, that is not an issue.)
On Saturday, I move another year closer to traditional rocking chair age. Yet in many ways, I'm probably more alive than I've ever been. With my wife's help, I've been able to take some of my songs from simply lyrics and a melody destined to be lost (because I don't actually write/annotate music) to actual song status and then performed them for live audiences. It has been both nerve wracking and perhaps the greatest thrill of my life.
While I may never be like Mel Brooks and be able to say "It's good to be the king," I can say it's a good time to be alive, despite all the craziness around the world. Desperate people resort to desperate acts. I choose not to reward or respond to their desperation. Despite their efforts, despite their anger, despite their desperation, life goes on for me. I hope it goes on for you as well and that you can find little things in which to anchor your piece (and peace) of the world.
Although all of that is, perhaps, mildly informative, it has nothing to do with the subject of this post. (Aren't you glad you read this far? I know I am.) In a sense, this blog post is really about nothing. Which also means it is about everything.
If you are anything like me (and for your sake, I hope you aren't), you might reasonably expect that once you reach a certain age, life might begin to slow down a bit, and you can finally take time to stop and smell the roses. Except that life really hasn't slowed down much, if at all.
Even though our son is now 19 and could, perhaps, be expected to be out on his own or at least fend for himself a bit more, it seems we are busier than ever with him. And when we aren't, we're busy with our own activities. He always has something going on. Or we do.
The fact that our son is autistic necessitates some of our involvement, even as he resists and struggles to assert his independence, a very normal step to take once you turn 19. For us, the challenge is trying to allow him to assert that independence while also trying to teach him and guide him so that he can be more independent even as we try to direct him. It's all very catch-22.
At the same time, I am entering almost a personal Golden Age of lyric writing, writing some of the best things I've ever written at an age when many songwriters are either resting on their laurels or struggling to find things to write about. (Since I have no laurels to rest on, that is not an issue.)
On Saturday, I move another year closer to traditional rocking chair age. Yet in many ways, I'm probably more alive than I've ever been. With my wife's help, I've been able to take some of my songs from simply lyrics and a melody destined to be lost (because I don't actually write/annotate music) to actual song status and then performed them for live audiences. It has been both nerve wracking and perhaps the greatest thrill of my life.
While I may never be like Mel Brooks and be able to say "It's good to be the king," I can say it's a good time to be alive, despite all the craziness around the world. Desperate people resort to desperate acts. I choose not to reward or respond to their desperation. Despite their efforts, despite their anger, despite their desperation, life goes on for me. I hope it goes on for you as well and that you can find little things in which to anchor your piece (and peace) of the world.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
#195 - I Got Nothing
In the aftermath of the Paris attacks, I've read a number of posts on Facebook that strike me personally as prejudiced, bigoted, hate-filled, and simply misguided. I thought to respond to those posts, but I have come to realize and accept that my words would make no difference, would convince no one, would cause no one to reconsider their views.
In trying to respond on a post-by-post basis, I feel the lump developing in the pit of my stomach, a lump of despair for humanity. It weighs me down and wears me down and nearly brings me to tears. As I close in on another birthday, I've decided I can't do it anymore. I'm too old and too tired to tilt as these ideological windmills any longer.
The terrorists have won. They have succeeded in filling the minds of millions of people with hate for all that is different or other. In the face of all of that, I got nothing.
In trying to respond on a post-by-post basis, I feel the lump developing in the pit of my stomach, a lump of despair for humanity. It weighs me down and wears me down and nearly brings me to tears. As I close in on another birthday, I've decided I can't do it anymore. I'm too old and too tired to tilt as these ideological windmills any longer.
The terrorists have won. They have succeeded in filling the minds of millions of people with hate for all that is different or other. In the face of all of that, I got nothing.
Monday, November 9, 2015
#194 - Let's Play A Game Of Musical Chairs
I don't know whether it is a shared restless spirit or spirit of adventure or simply a function of human nature, but every so often we decide to change things up a bit in our house. Of course, sometimes these changes arise out of necessity, such as painting the exterior or putting on a new roof. At other times, it might happen simply because one or both of us gets a burr in our behind.
Such was the case this weekend when my wife and I decided to swap offices — again. We live with one child in a four-bedroom house. Because we have so few visitors (perhaps a half-dozen in the 12-plus years we've lived here) we decided to convert two of the bedrooms into personal offices.
During our time in this house, each of the three non-master bedrooms has been utilized as an office. This time, rather than involve our son in this musical chairs routine, we simply flip-flopped the two existing offices.
Fortunately, we decided to swap desks as well, which made the switch a little easier. Still, changing offices is a chore. There are seemingly hundreds of bits and pieces to move, not to mention a dog who likes to be in the thick of the action. I'm sure he thinks he's supervising.
Each time we attempt something like this, we try to look at it as an opportunity to weed out things and papers we no longer need or want. It is also a good opportunity for cleaning and dusting, two activities I'm sure rank high on most people's lists of things to do.
Needless to say, when you have two independent thinking people going through the same bits and pieces, finding agreement is sometimes easier said than done. Emotional attachments, fear of being audited, a certainty that one of us will use that thingamajig one day. All of these come into play.
As I write this, I'd estimate the level of completion at somewhere between 60 and 70-percent. The computers and desk chairs have been swapped, along with most pictures and a few of the knick-knacks. Papers and assorted bits and bobs remain to be moved, plus there is still the process of getting things organized, put away, set up, thrown away, given away, etc.
Right now, we have things organized enough for us to each use our computers, which is a sort of moral victory in and of itself. I suspect the rest of the process will take longer, simply because there are so many little things to move and deal with but also because next up on the project list is organizing our son's bedroom, a task I would not wish on my worst enemy.
Such was the case this weekend when my wife and I decided to swap offices — again. We live with one child in a four-bedroom house. Because we have so few visitors (perhaps a half-dozen in the 12-plus years we've lived here) we decided to convert two of the bedrooms into personal offices.
During our time in this house, each of the three non-master bedrooms has been utilized as an office. This time, rather than involve our son in this musical chairs routine, we simply flip-flopped the two existing offices.
Fortunately, we decided to swap desks as well, which made the switch a little easier. Still, changing offices is a chore. There are seemingly hundreds of bits and pieces to move, not to mention a dog who likes to be in the thick of the action. I'm sure he thinks he's supervising.
Each time we attempt something like this, we try to look at it as an opportunity to weed out things and papers we no longer need or want. It is also a good opportunity for cleaning and dusting, two activities I'm sure rank high on most people's lists of things to do.
Needless to say, when you have two independent thinking people going through the same bits and pieces, finding agreement is sometimes easier said than done. Emotional attachments, fear of being audited, a certainty that one of us will use that thingamajig one day. All of these come into play.
As I write this, I'd estimate the level of completion at somewhere between 60 and 70-percent. The computers and desk chairs have been swapped, along with most pictures and a few of the knick-knacks. Papers and assorted bits and bobs remain to be moved, plus there is still the process of getting things organized, put away, set up, thrown away, given away, etc.
Right now, we have things organized enough for us to each use our computers, which is a sort of moral victory in and of itself. I suspect the rest of the process will take longer, simply because there are so many little things to move and deal with but also because next up on the project list is organizing our son's bedroom, a task I would not wish on my worst enemy.
Sunday, November 8, 2015
#193 - Something Else That Starts Much Too Soon
In my last blog post, I wrote in response to my local newspaper's posing of the question "What are your thoughts about whether the Christmas/Holiday Season starts too early these days?" My answer was, as I suspect it is for anyone over 30 or 35, "Yes." In fact, the only other thing I can think of that starts much too soon is the Presidential campaign we must endure every four (or perhaps it's now only two) years.
By the time the 2016 race for the White House ends, we will have been subjected to more than 18 months of half-truths, innuendos, accusations, bold promises, temper tantrums, ego-stroking, and braggadocio. And that's all from one candidate. (I'll let you guess which one.)
I'll make no secret of the fact that I support Bernie Sanders for President. Opponents ridicule his ideas for expanding Medicare and offering free college tuition as giveaways. I prefer to think of them as investments in the true infrastructure of America, its people.
However, this is not a post about Sanders or any other specific candidate. It is, instead, about the interminable length of the Presidential race, the duration of which makes it impossible for anyone without access to tens of millions (likely to so be hundreds of millions) to run for the office. From where I sit, this seems to ensure that the political process will continue to be controlled by the wealthiest of Americans for decades to come.
Regardless of which candidate you support (please tell me it isn't Mike Huckabee), I think most of us - with the possible exception of comedians and late night talk show hosts who benefit from months of material without really having to work hard for it - can agree that the process starts much too soon and lasts much too long.
I'm not entirely convinced that this is simply due to the evolution of or the complexity of the political process. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think this is some sort of insidious plot by those who wish to control the process.
Somewhere in some smoke-filled room (cliche, I know, but isn't that where these kinds of things get done?) someone or some group of people came up with the idea of extending the Presidential election process to the point where it becomes almost like "white noise" and gets tuned out by the majority of the electorate. How else would you explain the continuing decline in voter turnout in many areas? (I'm sorry, but quality of candidates is too easy an answer.)
The added benefit for these puppet masters is that this "white noise" filters down below the Presidential level to state and local races, reducing voter interest and turnout, making it easier for the candidates they support to win election and re-election time and again. For me, at least, this is the only way I can explain poor people in Kentucky voting to elect a governor who openly promised to end the one program that gave them access to affordable health insurance. (Your mileage may vary.)
The political process has reached the point where the joke is that a newly elected official must begin work toward getting reelected the day after getting elected in the first place. Running for election is all but a full-time job in and of itself. I think it is safe to say that the only thing with a longer shelf life than the electoral process is fruitcake, and I'm not sure we want anything competing with that.
By the time the 2016 race for the White House ends, we will have been subjected to more than 18 months of half-truths, innuendos, accusations, bold promises, temper tantrums, ego-stroking, and braggadocio. And that's all from one candidate. (I'll let you guess which one.)
I'll make no secret of the fact that I support Bernie Sanders for President. Opponents ridicule his ideas for expanding Medicare and offering free college tuition as giveaways. I prefer to think of them as investments in the true infrastructure of America, its people.
However, this is not a post about Sanders or any other specific candidate. It is, instead, about the interminable length of the Presidential race, the duration of which makes it impossible for anyone without access to tens of millions (likely to so be hundreds of millions) to run for the office. From where I sit, this seems to ensure that the political process will continue to be controlled by the wealthiest of Americans for decades to come.
Regardless of which candidate you support (please tell me it isn't Mike Huckabee), I think most of us - with the possible exception of comedians and late night talk show hosts who benefit from months of material without really having to work hard for it - can agree that the process starts much too soon and lasts much too long.
I'm not entirely convinced that this is simply due to the evolution of or the complexity of the political process. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think this is some sort of insidious plot by those who wish to control the process.
Somewhere in some smoke-filled room (cliche, I know, but isn't that where these kinds of things get done?) someone or some group of people came up with the idea of extending the Presidential election process to the point where it becomes almost like "white noise" and gets tuned out by the majority of the electorate. How else would you explain the continuing decline in voter turnout in many areas? (I'm sorry, but quality of candidates is too easy an answer.)
The added benefit for these puppet masters is that this "white noise" filters down below the Presidential level to state and local races, reducing voter interest and turnout, making it easier for the candidates they support to win election and re-election time and again. For me, at least, this is the only way I can explain poor people in Kentucky voting to elect a governor who openly promised to end the one program that gave them access to affordable health insurance. (Your mileage may vary.)
The political process has reached the point where the joke is that a newly elected official must begin work toward getting reelected the day after getting elected in the first place. Running for election is all but a full-time job in and of itself. I think it is safe to say that the only thing with a longer shelf life than the electoral process is fruitcake, and I'm not sure we want anything competing with that.
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