43

We've all been hearing about the new movie honoring Jackie Robinson. Haven't seen it yet, but GWCTRA (Girlfriend who chooses to remain anonymous) and I will be soon. I've seen the trailers and read the reviews, which match my reaction to the trailers. Which is that it seems shallow and formulaic and maybe too reverent. Yet, I still want to go and will keep an open mind.
But what you don't know is that Karl Rove is looking to cash in on this trend of "biopic with a number" title. Coming soon to a theater near you..."43".

Through some dogged research, sleuthing ability, and a recent discovery of some old mushrooms in the cellar, I have learned what the storyline is.

George W. Bush is born, not into luxury in New Haven, as we were told. Instead, he grew up in a shotgun shack on the outskirts of Midland, TX.
Through dogged persistence and something about a place called the Cayman Islands, he manages to get himself a scholarship to Yale. He wants to major in "freedom". Told there's no such major, he organizes a group of recently naturalized citizens to picket the hallowed halls of the famous university, ultimately winning a pledge from the deans to create such a major. He then says to President Kingman Brewster, in that famous folksy way of his, "Aw, ah was just pullin' your leg. You're doin' a heckuva job, Brewski." Everyone laughs and looks adoringly at the future POTUS.

But all is not well at Yale. 43 wants to be a star first baseman, like dad. But his teammates would have none of that, sneeringly rejecting him on the shaky ground that he can only hit .091 or that he cannot catch a ball because of his diagnosed case of tunnel vision, which only enables him to see only a thin line of light to his right side.

But our protagonist will eventually rise above it all. His mentor, Darth Voldecheney, says the words that will change his life. "I don't want a man who fights. I want a man who's smart enough to invade a foreign country for no reason whatsoever."

Our hero is inspired. His academic performance improves markedly, enabling him to graduate with a C average. He moves back to Texas and becomes the first black man to discover oil. (The storyline may take a few literary leaps in places). He enters politics. He fights for the people he represents; his working class millionaires.

And, as we all know, he would eventually rise to the highest position in the land. Under his leadership, all Americans prosper and terrorists are brought to their knees. And we all live happily ever, uh, um, well, I don't want to give away the ending. Besides, the mushrooms are wearing off. 

Here we are again

As I write this, we're about 19 hours past the latest atrocity. This one, of course, in Boston.

As was true the last time I blogged about murderous acts like these, I find I'm at a loss for words. I can't add anything that hasn't already been said. Yet, I can't remain silent either. I ask myself what good I can possibly do just by doing a weekly blog. The answer, of course, is nothing. Yet, after all, a blog is, among other things, a venting mechanism. So I'll vent away...
After the Newtown tragedy, I did go up there for a few hours and it felt like I was doing something to help. I won't be going to Boston. I can't imagine why I would go. I can only do what, I'd hope, any responsible person would do. Which is to keep speculation to myself and my closest friends and to be as patient as possible while the authorities sort it all out. But it sure isn't easy. I want answers right now. I want to find the perpetrators and exact my own justice. I want to know how this could happen, when the authorities knew coming in that this week is THE week for domestic terrorism (if that's what it is).
I don't want to be numb to these tragedies. Yet, numbness seems like a tempting way to go. Imagining what these families must be going through is painful. Part of me wants to avoid all this. Yet, I know this isn't the healthy reaction. The only healthy reaction I can come up with is to be as empathic as I can and know that, despite all this madness, there's something greater than myself that will guide us through it. If this power exists, call it God, the Divine, some life force, then how could this same power allow such a thing to happen?
I recently read a book by Krista Tippett. She hosts a show in Public Radio called On Being. The show was formerly called Speaking of Faith. She often looks at the issues of science and spirituality. She wrote a book replaying conversations she's had over the years on these subjects. One was an interview with Sir John Polkinghorne, who is a physicist and former Anglican priest. His philosophy seems to be that God, as he understands it, essentially gives us tools to work with. We can use them any way we want. I don't entirely understand his views and what I do understand would take too long to put in here. But what he says resonates with me. I can believe that it's up to us to use what God gives us for good or evil.
I believe even more that the only way we can stop these tragedies is to set good examples, especially those of us who are parents. As Graham Nash said, "Teach your children well." Whoever is responsible wasn't taught good lessons. Yet, they ARE responsible. No amount of physical abuse or neglect can mitigate against these atrocities.
I think we all suffer, to varying degrees, from an overload of distractions. I'm as guilty as anyone. I'll go through periods when I want no part of NPR or any other news. I sink into sports stories, sometimes to excess. And when it's excessive, I know in my heart that I'm escaping something. An occasional escape seems healthy. But doing it constantly means I'm not paying attention to things that matter.
And this matters. I want to be brave enough to feel the pain of losing innocent lives. Yet at the same time, I want to believe that if we all do the work we need to, such as quieting our minds, avoiding toxic news, nourishing ourselves, then we'll honor all these lives that were snuffed out in murderous acts like these.

Being true to the adjective

Hello all: Some random thoughts:

1: When I fill out an online form and I’m asked to fill in my year of birth, it takes me 5 minutes to scroll down.

2: As I get older, it seems that people increasingly use smaller fonts and softer voices.(By the way, this blog has undergone a font upgrade, along with some other changes. Thanks to my good friend Andy for the suggestions.)

3: Can you have a beck without a call? Or a nook without a cranny?

4: Why are criminal actions against monstrous acts of depravity called complaints? Don’t we generally complain about the weather and taxes?

5: I'm increasingly less patient with loud things. Loud people, loud headlines, loud anything.  But yet, I almost certainly have a hearing loss. 

6: The nicest American accents are low-country Virginia and Carolinas.

7: The most irritating accent is a Michigan accent...non-Detroit. (Apologies to my friends Leanne and Bob, if they should happen upon this. Their accents are actually pretty muted...thank God)

8: There are two versions of nice people. There's nice/Irish, which is generally outgoing. And there's nice/Canadian, which is more low-key. But I find myself drawn to both. And yes, Americans are generally nice too.

9: Everyone I've ever met named Heather has blond hair. 
10: Every band I've ever heard in my childhood seems to be on a comeback tour. 
11: Every time I think I've pissed someone off, I'm wrong. When I really do hurt someone or make them angry, it always surprises me.  
12: The two biggest mysteries to me are money and women.  The former confounds me. The latter fascinates me.  And I'm not sure which is #1. However, with GWCTRA in my life, my fascination is now highly focused.  But I'm no more educated now than I was 40 years ago.
13: I find myself getting irritated when someone does a Powerpoint presentation and reads the slides verbatim. 
14: Country songs are the most deceptively hardest songs to write of any genre.  
15: The mark of a bad comedy is whenever the camera pans in very close on someone being scared. So close that you can see their irises. 
16: I find myself increasingly ignoring headlines that seem salacious. I guess if I click on one, I'm making money for the moron who wrote it. And as a corollary, I have no idea how much money he's making. Nor the business model that it's based on. 
17: I find that in sports, I'm increasingly rooting for (or against) people more than teams.
18: The older I get, the less sure I am about almost anything. And it's strangely liberating. 

That's all for now. Thanks for stopping by.

...gp

Thanks, and other courtesies

Thanks for reading. I mean it.

Thanks for spending your hard earned time with me. 

(I don't really mean that.)

Not that I don't appreciate you visiting. I really do. But when I exaggerate the level of appreciation, it probably comes off as phony, or even sarcastic.
I doubt I've ever been a paragon of courtly behavior. I'm not awful. Just not a role model. In truth, I have no business writing a blog about this. Maybe it's an age thing. Remember how your parents and grandparents used to bemoan the loss of manners in society? I'm basically turning into them. A deserved irony.
Which leads me to what's on my mind. The simple phrase "thank you."
I used to live in the south, where folks are polite. It's in the southern upbringing. But I don't get a sense that it's always sincere. Ironically, in the much more brusque northeast, folks here may not say thanks as much, but they're more likely, in my experience, to show appreciation from the heart. The best combination in my experience, is the midwest. Where people say thanks and, I sense, really mean it.
The words "thank you" may be the two most powerful words on the planet, when meant sincerely. I've heard that all prayer can be classified into four categories: "Wow", "Oops", "Please", and "Thanks."
On a secular level, this last category troubles me. Maybe it's just me but I don't hear the "T" word/phrase as much as I used to. We have a "thank you" gap.
The true test is the door. Do people hold a door open for you? Do you do the same? If so, does the recipient of your good deed say thank you? I do try to make a point to hold the door open for people. Some notice and say thanks. A larger group completely ignores the courtesy. The largest group of all mumbles what sounds close enough to "thanks".  Which is good enough for me. Quite often, they're talking on the phone or texting, which I've grudgingly come to accept as the norm today.  

I can't definitively say that we as a society are seeing our manners erode. I just sense it. And it's not just the door thing. In my local library, a place I like to do work at, about once a week, there'll be someone talking in a normal to loud conversational voice. As if they're outdoors. And the library staff won't "shhh" him/her. Aren't librarians trained to "sssh"? Isn't there a "sssh"101 course that's required? Apparently, it's not part of the curriculum anymore. So I take it upon myself, with a little voice in the back of my head saying "Are you insane? What if they threaten you? What if they have a gun?" But I'm learning to, as the western cliche goes, "smile when you say that". I consciously keep a smile and ask, nicely, if they could lower their voice. And I do NOT make eye contact. In fact, I walk away. This method has yet to backfire. But still, I'm angry that I have to do this at all. And if it's a phone call, that's even more of a challenge.
Each time, I ask myself why this is necessary. Don't people get it? Were they raised this way?
I suspect every person who ever hit their mid-50's says the same thing. (In 10 years, of course, no one will say it. They'll text it instead)
I just read an article saying that most students openly text in class during lectures. As an adjunct professor, I see it too. I tell my students that I don't allow it. They have no reaction. And some apparently forget that it's my class rule, so they need to be reminded again. I haven't yet deducted behavior points for this, but I'd consider it. I also have two students in my class who talk to each other incessantly. I've warned them, only to see it abate, then pick back up again.
At times, I ask myself what is wrong with society? But in my more lucid moments, I see this as a classic "one bad apple" thing. If I were to evaluate each person I meet on their courtesy, I suspect I'd be more hopeful. And it's also true that as technology changes at an ever increasing rate, we have that much more of a challenge in adjusting to it. Texting and cell phones being the most obvious examples.
It's probably important to make some adjustments to the new realities. It's certainly healthier. Maybe it's just the core courtesies that need to be kept as they are. It's really as simple as the Golden Rule, something that exists, in some form, in every major religion.
And a sincere thank you heads the list.

So...thanks for reading. And I mean it.