I always enjoy my chance to watch paths, tracks, and roads disappear at the horizon line.
11 When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12 For now we see as in a mirror darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I too am known.
I’m not usually big on quoting the bible, but sometimes, nothing else says it better.
I was an “old” child. When I was very young, I talked like a much older person. I read “adult person” literature and thought of myself as very mature. I wasn’t. I was intellectually precocious, but still a child. Who used big words and almost understood many adult things.
Almost. There are a whole lot of things that simply don’t make sense until you’ve lived a life. Reading about life isn’t living it. A child, no matter how smart, is never more mature than his or her years and experience. That’s perspective.
Perspective isn’t static. At 10, you see things through 10-year-old eyes. As years and decades roll on, you see the same things differently, sometimes extremely so. Perhaps you really do see through a glass darkly. Or you should. If decades of living don’t change your perspective, something is wrong with you or your life. We are supposed to change. That which does not change is not living.
I hear people my age or even younger saying “Well, that’s the way I am. I’m not going to change.”
There’s a terrible finality in that statement. A sad finality, a eulogy for “self-growth.” Someday, I’ll be too old or sick to change. An end comes to all. Until then, I hope my perspective keeps changing. I hope I revise my opinions often and contradict myself frequently.
Perspective and growth are life.
I recently wrote a blog about Japan’s strange (to us) cultural norms regarding women’s roles. The blog elicited a lot of interesting comments so I decided to follow up with another blog about a different cultural phenomenon in Japan that is even more appalling to Westerners.
Japan has a unique approach to child custody that differs from most of the rest of the developed world. Japan does not recognize the concept of ‘joint custody.’ Instead, courts give custody to one parent, applying what is called the ‘continuity principle.’ This states that if the child is settled in one household, the continuity of their care should not be disturbed. This, in turn, means that if one parent kidnaps a child, once the ‘new’ household is established, the court will consistently award custody to the kidnapper.
This bizarre system is deeply rooted in Japanese culture, where children are not viewed as having individual rights or even as ‘belonging’ to their parents. They are seen as the ‘property of the household’ where they live, so as soon as a child moves to a new household (say, with the kidnapping parent), the estranged parent automatically becomes an outsider with no right to ‘disturb’ the newly established household.
As a result (surprise, surprise), tens of thousands of Japanese children are kidnapped EACH YEAR, by one parent, usually the mother. And the other parent, usually the father, has no recourse to the authorities or the courts for help. Hundreds of these parents/fathers per year who are kept away from their children are foreigners who married Japanese citizens.
In one situation, an American man was married to a Japanese woman and they were living in Washington state. There was a divorce and the father was awarded custody. He dropped the six-year-old child off with his mother for a visit and she immediately took the child to Japan. The Japanese government refused to help him and, in fact, the Japanese embassy in Portland, Oregon actually helped the mother escape to Japan by getting her young child a passport in just one day.
Campaigns have been organized here, in other countries and even in Japan, to protect the rights of the outsider parents as well as the children. An American pressure group is called “Bring Abducted Children Home” and represents over 400 American parents whose kids have been abducted to Japan by a Japanese parent.
The Prime Minister of Italy and the President of France have raised this issue with Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzo Abe, calling the situation ‘unacceptable.’ A formal complaint has also been filed with the United Nations’ Human Rights Council, arguing that Japan has violated the Convention on the Rights of Children and the Hague Convention on International Child Abduction.
But this only deals with the plights of foreign parents who are deprived of access to their children. Hundreds of thousands of Japanese parents are in the same boat.
Apparently, momentum for change is building domestically and internationally. This past February, Prime Minister Abe acknowledged that children would want to see both their parents, which is a huge concession and opens the door to giving rights to ‘outsider’ parents.
Also, the U.S. State Department says that progress is being made regarding enforcement of the Hague Convention on abductions since 32 kidnapped children have been returned to the U.S. since 2014. That’s just a drop in the bucket and more abductions are happening every year. But it is a step in the right direction.
In the meantime, it seems that the best policy for foreigners is to avoid marrying and having kids with a Japanese citizen until Japan joins the rest of the developed world in their views on custody and parental kidnapping.
There are subjects I avoid writing about because no matter where I go, there’s a troll lurking and waiting for an opportunity.
Gun control and “right to life,” or more to the point, the right of the unborn as opposed to the rights of the already alive are big troll-gatherers. They have always been two of the hot topics on the Internet and the trolls follow them like moths to flames in the dark of night. At least I have some control over them here on Serendipity. It’s the big advantage of blogging rather than being part of an “open” bulletin board — or heaven forbid Facebook.
How do you know you are being trolled?
I’m usually pretty good at spotting trolls, but sometimes, they creep in. They make a normal comment and as far as you can ascertain, they seem okay. There aren’t many ways to figure out if someone new is a follower or a troll other than whether or not they have a valid blog. But not all followers have a blog. Some people simply enjoy following other people’s writings.
So you have a new follower. They start a conversation, but they never quit. By the time the second day of conversation arrives, they have stood on every side of a “discussion” … and are getting aggressive.
I have been trolled on places like Amazon. You would think a biography about Alexander Hamilton would be essentially troll-free, but you’d be amazed at the damage they can do. I think Amazon has done something to control these jerks, but not enough. If they want reviewers, they will have to end the trolling.
Places like Facebook are obvious trolling sites. If you are fool enough to open yourself to that sort of thing, you will get what you deserve.
This isn’t Facebook, so it’s simple. I’ll put up with a conversation as long as that’s what it is. The minute it starts to edge into trolling, I will end it. One warning from me — and if there is another murmur from the aforementioned troll — he or she is blocked.
I tell them why and they say I’ve misunderstood them. They were merely trying to “liven up” the conversation. There was a time when I actually believed that line. I don’t believe it anymore.
These trolls actually think their viciousness is funny. They think they are being “cute.” Or anyway, that’s what they say. I still don’t believe it. Cute and funny isn’t nasty, angry, and mean. Sometimes, you get an apology. “Oh, I was just trying to make conversation.”
Don’t believe it. Trolls know exactly what they are doing. They do it wherever they go. They aren’t stupid. They think getting you angry and upset is hilarious. For them, anyway.
If it makes you unhappy, they don’t care. They are doing it for their own amusement, not yours. Their idea of livening up the conversation is to get a lot of people upset and if possible, feeling bad about themselves. When you ask them they will say they like “stirring the conversation” by which they mean insulting and harassing people they don’t even know. It’s their version of “getting the conversation moving.”
It’s trolling. If it is making your nervous system jangle, you can bet it’s trolling. Unless it is someone you know who has just gone a little over the edge, it’s trolling. Do not let them turn your site into a battleground. Spam them, block them, get rid of them. They will drive your real readers away and inflict a lot of damage — to you and others. Trolls are ugly people and their idea of humor has nothing to do with how anyone else feels. The more upset they can make you, the more they enjoy it.
I sometimes wait a while to see if the commentary is going that way, but when it’s a “new reader” with a flurry of nasty, sharp things to say? It’s a troll. Bet on it.
There are things we need to say and sometimes they are controversial. People argue, sometimes with considerable fervor, but I think you will know the trolls from regular readers with strong opinions who have maybe gone a little bit overboard. You’ll know the difference.
Shut down the trolls. Don’t let them back on your site, no matter what they tell you. Once a troll, always a troll.
In Memoriam 2018, Rich Paschall
Many people go into our memories as the years go by. Some will linger there always. Some will pass by for a fleeting moment, remembered and then forgotten, as the years put clouds in front of them. Some memories we will cherish always, some not at all.
This past year, as in those preceding it, awards shows and year-end retrospectives highlight those we have lost through their “In Memoriam.” This phrase is from the Latin term meaning “into memory” so it is into our memories we commend those who have left but meant much to us in our lives.
These passings do not only bring sadness for those who are gone, but they also remind us that we are entering a later time in the autumns of our lives. For this thought, we also have sadness for ourselves, knowing winter is near.
I will offer ten names that meant a lot to me in the past. There will be no numbers. It is not a top ten in the usual sense. I looked over some lists and picked ten that have been committed fondly into my memory. You may add yours in the comments.
On the short list, I also had Sen. John McCain, although I disagreed with him often. There was Stan Lee for creating the comic universe of superheroes. Also listed was Stephen Hawking, who had a beautiful mind locked in a diseased and twisted body. The prolific playwright Neil Simon brought us many great movies and plays. Also passing was the former lead of Jefferson Airplane, Marty Balin, and the lead of the Irish pop group Cranberries, Dolores O’Riordan, who died too young (46).
Waving a fond goodbye but staying forever in my memory:
Jerry Van Dyke, 86. The younger brother of Dick Van Dyke began his career by playing Rob Petrie’s younger brother in a few episodes of the Dick Van Dyke show. He is most fondly remembered as an assistant in the long-running sitcom, Coach.
Nanette Fabray, 97. She began her career in vaudeville. I remember her as someone who appeared frequently on the early variety shows of television and later as a frequent game show guest. She fought to show the importance of closed captioning in media, as she had been losing her hearing for many years. Here she performs in the musical “the Band Wagon:”
Tab Hunter, 86. The actor, singer, and writer became a movie star in the 1950s and ’60s. He was a teen heart-throb to many young girls and a few young guys too. He had a number one hit with “Young Love,” although this 1957 performance on the Perry Como Show may not have been his best effort. At least you will get to hear the girls scream:
Harry Anderson, 65. The magician and comedian scored two successful comedy series on television. The first was the long-running Night Court where he played the judge of a Manhattan court at night. Next up was Dave’s World, loosely based on writings of Dave Barry.
Burt Reynolds, 82. Although he had many iconic movie roles as well as highly regarded television series, I enjoyed him most in the sitcom Evening Shade. My memory recalls it as a thoughtful, well-written program with a top-notch ensemble cast.
John Mahoney, 77. The veteran stage and movie actor will be best remembered as the dad on Frasier (and Niles) on the sitcom of the same name. Locally, John was often seen on stage in Chicago in productions of the renowned Steppenwolf Theater.
Roy Clark, 85. The country singer and musician played host on the variety show, Hee Haw. Think of Laugh-In populated with country “hicks.” Having many southern relatives, we were greatly amused by this show and watched regularly.
Bill Daily, 91. Daily was born in Des Moines, Iowa but the family moved to Chicago. He graduated from high school in my neighborhood (long before my time) and went to the famous Goodman Theater school here. He scored two successful stints as a sidekick on television, one in I Dream of Jeannie and the other was the Bob Newhart Show.
Penny Marshall, 75. Best known for playing Laverne on the Happy Days spin-off, Laverne & Shirley, Marshall went on the be a well-respected producer and director. “Big” is a favorite film, the first one directed by a woman to gross more than 100 million dollars.
Aretha Franklin, 76. The Queen of Soul earned a lot of R-E-S-P-E-C-T in her life. The talented singer and musician excelled in many musical categories and earned her place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The Chicago based musical Blues Brothers is a favorite with us and the following is one of the best numbers in the film.
I pick these up from Melanie B Cee at:
She gets them elsewhere so I’ll pass it upward and she can pass it forward or backward. Whichever. Chainmail has never worked well for me.
This is an interesting bunch of questions. I probably would have been more amusing with them when I was younger. I’ve pretty much settled down.
The Rules …
1] Leave the Permanent Questions [PQ] always in place PLEASE.
2] Reblog should you so desire
3] If you do reblog, a pingback would always be welcomed so l don’t miss it.
4] This is a non-tagger/ non-nomination game.
Today’s questions are perhaps a little bit more taxing, however, this is the way of life as we know it, and there is never anything wrong with a little bit of thought provocation is there?
Q1] What is your take on ‘free will?’
I will restate something someone said to me many years ago. “Life,” she said, “is a room. There’s furniture there. You can sit on the sofa or a chair. Or even on the floor. But you can’t leave the room because that’s your room. And your life.”
Personally, I tend to view it more as a bus. We get on the bus when we are born and we go traveling. We don’t really know where we are going or when the bus will stop. We are not driving the bus and whenever we try to drive, we discover we actually don’t know how. Our attempts to drive are often rudely interrupted by a reality we didn’t expect. We can sit anywhere we like, enjoy the company of other travelers, and occasionally, when the bus stops for fuel, we get to wander around in some strange and new place if we so choose.
We don’t know how long the trip will take or exactly where we will end up. Somewhere. Hopefully somewhere we love.
The single thing we can never do is drive the bus. Whenever we are certain we are (finally) in control, we soon discover we are not. We have free will, but only to a point.
Q2] We all ask ourselves at one time or another what is the point? So what is the point to our existence?
I’m not sure there IS a point.
Q3] What do you believe about Fate and Karma?
I don’t know. It depends on when you ask me. Mostly, I don’t know.
Q4] As a species, how do you think humans will become extinct or do you believe that we will not?
I think we will go extinct, but I also believe the universe will become extinct and the sun will blow up. Nothing lasts forever.
PQ5] What is your belief with regards the meaning of life?
Another “I don’t know.” Does life have a meaning? Or is life itself the meaning?
Q6] Ok, fess up, do you believe in aliens from outer space – is there really other life out there in the far-reaching galaxies beyond our own?
I assume there is something out there that is intelligent. I’m also pretty sure we either haven’t met them, or they dropped by, took one look, decided we were hopeless and left.
PQ7] What is your best quote for ‘living life?’
Life is short. Eat dessert first.
Q8] What doesn’t kill us – makes us stronger – yes or no? Explain.
That is one of those placebo explanations that people use when they don’t know what else to say. Many things ARE stronger than us and yes, it can and does kill us. Many people I loved are dead. “It” didn’t make them stronger.
Q9] What would you say have been your biggest successes in life?
Still being here when I’m pretty sure I ought to be dead.
Q10] If you could find out the exact time and cause of your death – would you want to know?
Q11] Is it more important to help yourself, help your family, help your society, or help the world?
All of the above, but I think I’ve helped my family to the extent that I am capable of helping. I think I’d rather try and help our society, such as it isn’t and after that, what’s left of our world.
PQ12] If humanity was put on trial by an advanced race of aliens, how would you defend humanity and argue for its continued existence?
I wouldn’t. I think as a race we don’t deserve our world.
Q13] What is the biggest waste of human potential?
Our overall stupidity.
Q14] We often see those that write ‘what would you say to a younger you?’ However, what would you say today to a future you?
I would run like hell. Anything I said would be a disaster. And undoubtedly wrong in every possible way.
PQ15] Why do you think that as a species, humans need to believe in something? Be this religion, fate, karma, magical, mystique and so on.
I don’t think we need to believe in something. Many people don’t and they are just fine. Right and wrong are not religious principles. They are part of our DNA.
Q16] If we could not retain any of our memories – who would we be?
Q17] Time is such an important part of our world, but do you think you would notice if time was altered in any way?
It would depend. Am I still in this world? Am I in a parallel universe? Am I suffering hallucinations? Dementia?
Q18] How important is playing in living a healthy and fulfilling life?
Critical to development. If we don’t play, we do not grow. It is during play that we learn to lose, learn to make deals, learn how to arrange life to suit our needs.
Q19] With no laws or rules to influence your behavior, how do you think you would behave?
Exactly the way I do now, except hopefully, with many fewer bills to pay.
PQ20] Are you deleting any questions, if so which ones?
Nope. Just went with the flow.
Q21] Should euthanasia be legal? Why or why not?
Yes, because I think if we believe a dog in pain needs to be let out of his misery, why would we be less kind to a human being? But that’s an opinion. Not a fact. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I will respect it.
This has been a very non-linear month. Actually, what this has been, is an insanely complicated month with a lot more complications waiting for us in the wings. It isn’t going to get easier until possibly next spring. Meanwhile, we have to just do what we must. And not try to get too wound up about it.
I shall have to delve into archives this time because, well, it’s just that kind of day.
“…am I missing something?” The frantic voice on the phone made it quite clear that he really hoped he was…
“There’s a grey ring with symbols on it. Turn it to the one with parallel lines.”
“Okay, done that.”
“Then, above where the ‘U’ shaped bit of red plastic is, there is a red slider. Push it to the right.”
“Whew… That’s got it. Thank you!” He hung up to deal with the piscine emergency and, while I threw on some clothes to go and join him, it occurred to me that this was a really useful example of one of the exercises we use in the Silent Eye to build awareness.
The gadget in question is nothing interesting, nor is it one I own, but it isn’t something I have to think about either; operating a hosepipe is just one of those things you do on autopilot. I cannot recall ever having particularly examined the fancy nozzle-that-does-everything-except-feed-the-cat, but I was, thankfully, able to conjure its image in sufficient detail to be of use.
I am lucky in this respect; my imagination and memory work with visuals and, while I may be utterly useless at remembering anything to do with numbers these days, what I have seen I can usually picture with clarity. Part of that is just down to how my mind functions; where some people remember the spoken word accurately and others have a gift for recalling numbers, I tend to remember what I have seen. Except numbers. But part of it too is down to training.
I have been working with the Mysteries for nearly half a century. Early in my studies, it became evident that there were two basic choices open to anyone seriously following that path… study for knowledge or study for application, and it seemed to me that the two needed to work in tandem.
While you cannot put into practice what you do not know, and therefore knowledge is necessary, the acquisition of knowledge alone serves no purpose unless it is used, except to satisfy the hunger of the inquiring mind and foster understanding. But as real understanding comes only with experience… so the most practical course would be to learn all you can, extrapolate the practical uses and apply them. And, as the lessons learned studying the Mysteries must be applied to life, it is through your own life that you learn.
Right from the very beginning of my own studies,there were exercises in awareness, even though, ironically, I did not realise it at the time. From simply visualising your room as you drift into sleep, to noting new details in familiar places, or playing memory games with yourself… they were simple enough exercises. It is difficult to gauge the cumulative effect, especially if your mind works best in pictures, until something makes you take note.
The hosepipe was an insignificant example, but the clarity with which it was brought to mind was striking. Places I have visited once, maybe thirty years ago, are still very clear. I drive thousands of miles on obscure roads and seldom look at a map… and if that kind of thing is a practical result of my studies, then I am happy to have spent so much time on ‘awareness’ exercises.
Continue reading at The Silent Eye
I have often written that 1969 was my favorite year … and explained why.
As a start, it was epic from a news viewpoint.
Neil Armstrong walked on the moon in July 1969. I watched it. I had a baby that year and it might not have made the networks, but it was big news at my house.
So, as a new mother, I got to see Neil Armstrong walk on the moon. A real live guy walking — leaping — on the moon! We viewed it on CBS. It was obvious Walter Cronkite wanted to be up there with Neil and the rest of Apollo 11. He could barely control his excitement. He was nearly in tears. Me too.
The great Arthur C. Clarke was his guest for that historic news event. Neil Armstrong died a couple of years ago, an honorable man and a true American hero.
How I envied him his trip to the moon. I always tell Garry that if the Mother Ship comes and offers me a trip to the stars, I’m outta here. Maybe there would be room for him, too and we could travel together to the stars. Our final vacation. I hope the seats have better leg room than what we usually get.
Woodstock was a 1969 event too. Rumors were flying about this rock concert which would totally blow up the music world. I had friends who had tickets and were up, up and away. I was busy with a baby and wished them well.
I was young, healthy. I was sure we would change the world. End wars. Make the world better — for everyone. I was young enough to believe that our beliefs were enough make the changes and those changes would last forever. All the changes would be permanent.
It never crossed my mind that 50 years later, we’d be fighting the same battles again. I probably wouldn’t have been nearly as happy had a realized that nothing is permanent. No legislation is forever.
I figured we just needed to love each and it would fix everything. I still think if we had all learned to love each other, it would have fixed everything. For some strange reason, I thought the people I knew and cared for were all the people.
I never realized there were so many other people who hated everyone. People who loved no one, not even themselves. They would never be happy. Or allow anyone else to be happy either.
I had a baby boy and I sang “Everything’s Fine Right Now.” The song made a great wonderful lullaby and also, it made my baby boy laugh.
It was the year of the Miracle Mets. I watched as they took New York all the way to the top. New York went crazy for the Mets. A World Series win. 1969. What a year!
I wore patchwork bell-bottom jeans and rose-tinted spectacles. I had long fringes on my sleeves and a baby on my hip.
Music was wonderful. How young we were! We could do anything. The world belonged to us. I just knew it.
Decades passed; youth was a long time ago. The drugs we take control our blood pressure, not our state of consciousness. Today’s drugs aren’t much fun, but along with replacement heart valves and implanted breasts to replace the pair that tried to kill me, they keep me alive.
1969 was my year. But in its own weird way, all the years have come around again and today’s young people are fighting the same old battles — again. Fighting to get the assault weapons out of the hands of people who kill kids in schools and trying to make the world right. I want them to do a better job than we did.
Often, these days, I wonder what we accomplished. I’m sure we accomplished something. We probably brought the close of the Vietnam war, but so late and so many were dead by them. Maybe this group of kids who seem so determined and seem to get that voting is going to be how they will make the system work — maybe THEY will make things change and somehow keep the change alive.
Nothing lasts forever. Freedom is not free.
Regardless of how hard we work and how much we change the world, like a rubber band, “the world” will go back to where it was. The generation that follows change will forget how they got their freedom, so the next one will have to fight again. Freedom is the thing we fight for. Not once, but over and over and over again.
Freedom doesn’t come for free.
I don’t recognize faces. I recognize people I know very well – as often as not because they appear in a context that makes them recognizable. I know this lady because she is the checkout person at Hannaford, but if I see her somewhere else, I probably won’t recognize her. It is embarrassing.
I can pretty much always recognize Garry and my son — and other family members — but we’ve been recognizing each other for somewhere between 45 and 60 years, so at least I’ve got those people nailed in place.
Thing is, I don’t “see” faces. I am okay dealing with people with whom I have spent significant time and with whom I’ve had meaningful conversation. If you are close to me, I will know who you are. But my first husband always wore a beard and one day, he decided to see what his face looked like — and I had no idea who he was. He too was faceless. Without the beard, I’d lost him.
I thought this was just me, but I have since learned this is a syndrome and goes handily with my inability to know where I am — even when I’m close to home.
It was a comment from Judy Dystra-Brown – lifelessons. She said:
Locational dyslexia and facial blindness go together. I have them both as well. Took me years to figure out the facial blindness. I thought I just didn’t pay attention. I have terrible problems with films and tv shows where all the women look alike.
I had no idea it was a “thing.” Like her, I thought I just wasn’t paying enough attention. But this inability to recognize faces (or remember names, a whole other issue) has dogged me my whole life. That’s a lot of dogging.
She went on to say:
I discovered the location dyslexia when I was taking an in-service class on learning disabilities when I taught H.S. I found out about the facial blindness from Duckie. He has it, too. Then I found out the two are often associated from a woman who presented at a writer’s conference here who I was giving rides into town to. Always learning.
It was a revelation for me. I have had this problem my whole life. I know we develop memory issues as we age, but this was a problem when I was still a teenager. Some guy would ask me out, but when he showed up, I wasn’t sure I knew him. I would have recognized him in class — where I met him — but out of class and wearing a suit? Was it the same guy? I had to assume it was because here he was, at my door. No one else was supposed to show up.
I am totally hooked on signs. Big signs. The bigger, the better. I think everyone at every party should wear a name tag because otherwise, I don’t know who they are.
Worse? Garry doesn’t recognize people or places either, so together, we are perpetually lost and often arguing about it. It’s the lame and the halt fighting about who should lead the party.
I get to be the navigator and have printed instructions to go with the GPS, (which I don’t trust because it often sends us places by very strange roads that aren’t really roads). Garry feels he needs to argue with me, which simply takes my base confusion and ramps it up into high “I’m completely lost” levels.
We are currently making a deal that if I’m navigating, he should shut up and drive. If HE wants to navigate, that’s fine with me.
On some level, in my world, everyone is faceless. If you put a paper bag over my head and spin me twice, I won’t know where I am, even if it’s my own living room.
Faceless and directionless. All the way.
I’ve been watching the Republicans trying to convince themselves and the world, yet again, that 2 + 2 = 5. An overtly political Republican Congressional memo was released recently that clearly states “A”. However, it is being touted as proof that “A” is false. Most of the country has not been taken in, but a majority of Republicans have been.
This is just the most recent example of a Republican misinformation campaign. This one is designed to prove that the entire intelligence community, all 17 agencies in the government, are all biased, corrupt and working together to overthrow the Trump government. This is a ludicrous, far-fetched and dangerous idea.
But so was the popular right-wing conspiracy theory about the Newtown School massacre. The conpiracists claimed that the massacre never really happened. Actors were hired to make it look real. It was faked to make Second Amendment gun advocates look bad. Hard to believe that people actually bought into this craziness. But many Republicans did.
Whatever happened to the rubric, ‘When you hear hooves, assume horses, not zebras’? What kind of person is willing, if not eager, to believe the convoluted conspiracy theory rather than the simple reality? Do you have to be somewhat paranoid yourself to believe this shit? Can you just be a low information person who never goes anywhere near critical thought?
I think you have to believe that people are horribly nefarious and at least a little bit out to get you. But you also have to so desperately want to cling to your beliefs that you will buy into anything that allows you to keep them, untarnished.
I strongly believe what I believe. But I critically evaluate the information I’m given both for and against my positions. I would get no comfort from a flimsy, outlandish theory that could not be verified, just because it bolstered my world view. I would analyze it and reject it as false or unsubstantiated. And move on.
So we’re back to what makes me reject the ridiculous theory and others embrace it. Maybe it’s that my most fervent belief is in the existence of absolute facts. I believe that there is a way to determine, definitively, what is real and what isn’t. Maybe others have a looser definition of ‘truth’ than I do. Maybe others don’t care if something is true once they choose to believe it.
Have you ever watched “America’s Got Talent”, or any other talent show? There are people out there who genuinely think they are great singers or dancers, or whatever. And they are, in fact, horrible. So horrible that they get booed by a huge audience and eviscerated by a panel of judges. Yet most of these performers leave the stage believing that everyone is wrong about them. That nobody sees or ‘gets’ their true talent.
That may be the answer to my question. People have a great capacity for self-deception. Particularly when there is a deep seeded need to perpetuate that deception.
People don’t want to be bothered informing themselves and finding actual facts to back up their beliefs. They just want to ‘feel’ that they know what they’re talking about, that they understand the world around them. Most important, people want to ‘believe’ that they are 100% right about their beliefs.
Everyone wants to think they are smart and have a good sense of humor. So they just ‘believe’ it. And they live happily ever after.
Reducing Clutter, by Rich Paschall
When my grandfather retired and my grandparents moved back to Tennessee from Chicago where they had lived for close to twenty years, they gave away many items they felt they no longer needed. Chief among them was a snow blower. “What if it snows, grandpa?” I asked. He explained that in the unlikely event of snow, it would melt off in a day or two. There was no need for something they may never use again.
When he asked if I would like anything, I said I would take his nightstand if the plan was to leave it behind. It was an inexpensive little piece with a small door on the front to hold just a few items inside. It had a homemade quality and symbolized my grandfather to me. I was probably in early teens. I still have it today. The item could be 100 years old by now.
Their home in small town Tennessee was remarkably uncluttered. They had just what they needed for the next twenty years of their lives. The house was always, neat, clean and orderly and I truly believe that it added to the relaxed and comfortable existence they enjoyed for many years. They never seemed to lack for anything when I would visit. I envy that simple existence now.
When my father retired and moved to Florida with his second wife (not my mom), he too left behind things he could not imagine using again. He had decided to give away his winter outerwear and offered me a nice coat and other items. “What if it gets cold, or you come back to visit in winter, dad?” He pointed out that it never gets that cold in Florida and while he may be back to visit, it would never be in winter.
Aside from taking this winter offering, I desired nothing else. I had his World War II medals and discharge paper. There was nothing else I wanted. I have since passed the World War II memorabilia to my older brother. He has children and may be able to pass them on. By the way, I kept a Good Conduct medal for my “good conduct.” Dad had more than one and I decided not to award my brother with several of these.
Mom was a collector of stuff. I sometimes wondered if this was the result of growing up poor in the Depression. Was the accumulation of items, no matter how little the value, important to someone who had nothing growing up? Were many of us from the Baby Boomer generation collectors because we saw that our parents were?
Mom collected everything from coffee cups to shot glasses, refrigerator magnets to picture frames, swizzle sticks from hotels and restaurants, to match books from the same. There were figurines and candle holders, tea services not to be used, special occasion kitchen ware that may never have seen the special occasion. There were “knickknacks” of all sorts, or what her mother would have simply called “dust catchers.” To me, most of these items did not have enough value to have to dust them every weekend.
After mom had reached her 80’s and could not care for all the stuff, or even recall all the stuff she had, I moved her to an apartment in the same building so we could watch over her a little more closely. That lasted less than a year and she was in a hospital, then a nursing home. I moved to the larger apartment to hold on to the “stuff” in case she recovered well enough to come home. She lived almost 6 years at the home and I not only had a lifetime of my own stuff, I then inherited a mountain of stuff I would never have considered owning. Worse yet, many of the dust collectors I owned were some of the same items I grew up looking at. I can not explain how I did not want these things. For whatever reason, I could not get rid of much of it in the years that followed.
In the past year, however, I decided it was time to start to eliminate many of these things. I had shelves and cabinets overflowing with items that I would never use and in some cases never wanted. What if I have to move? I do not want to have to take a lot of these things. What if I die? Someone will just toss out most of it anyway. Is this “stuff” adding anything to my life? This really is the key question. If I was not going to use it and it did not hold some great personal value, it was time to go.
It is hard to do an assessment of items that have been in your house for decades. You may falsely conclude that they have a sentimental value when all they really enjoy is longevity. Consider cleaning up and not leaving it to others. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your kids, or grandkids, do not want your stuff. Yes, they may desire an item or two, but for the most part your stuff will end up being donated or tossed out, so you might as well do it yourself. Consider how much of your parents or grandparents stuff you wanted? I am not talking about family photos, I am talking about “stuff.”
Last year I tossed out a lot of stuff. I did not want them and could not imagine anyone paying 25 cents for them, so they finally hit the trash. I gave a lot of stuff away to various charities, depending on the type of item. I also listed things on eBay if I thought they had a value. I sell about a half-dozen items a month. At this pace I could sell stuff for the next 25 years and still have a lot of things. When I retire, I will likely increase my eBay offerings or my donations to resale shops, probably both. If anyone wants stuff, I will be happy to oblige.
Age is a very strange thing. You are a child, then you are young and these days, you are young for a very long time. Young really up through your fifties and for many people, pretty youthful into their sixties. Then, it changes. Maybe a little. Sometimes a lot and quite suddenly.
The face that has been almost the same since your twenties is different. Older. Not just wrinkles, but there’s a “look” of maturity that tells the world — and you — that’s you’ve been around. You’ve seen a lot. You know things. Older eyes are different and it’s impossible to explain what that means. It doesn’t mean they do not sparkle with joy, but there is a knowingness that is missing in young eyes.
This year has vanished even faster than usual. In fact, this entire last decade has been a wink and a shrug. I do not feel older this year than last. Actually, I feel better this year than last, but I’ve been gradually recovering from earlier surgeries and it’s nice that there’s a semblance of progress. Still, I sometimes don’t understand how I got here. I remember the years. I mostly remember what I was doing for most of them … but how do they add up to such a big number?
Yet here I am.
This twirling, whirling, busy world is a bauble in the great universe and we are just little crawly dots on its surface. In the even greater scheme of things, we are barely here at all. I’m not sure whether or not that perspective is comforting or chilling. Maybe both?
COME SLEEP, O SLEEP …
Come, Sleep! O Sleep, the certain knot of peace,
The baiting-place of wit, the balm of woe,
The poor man’s wealth, the prisoner’s release,
Th’ indifferent judge between the high and low;
With shield of proof shield me from out the press
Of those fierce darts Despair at me doth throw!
O make in me those civil wars to cease!—
I will good tribute pay if thou do so.
Take thou of me smooth pillows, sweetest bed,
A chamber deaf of noise and blind of light,
A rosy garland, and a weary head;
And if these things, as being thine in right,
Move not thy heavy grace, thou shalt in me,
Livelier than elsewhere, Stella’s image see.
Sir Philip Sidney
I remember when going to sleep was simple. I changed into a nightgown or pajamas. I took off my jewelry. Brushed my hair. Brushed my teeth. Washed face and hands. Plumped up the pillow, pulled up the covers — and went to sleep. Sometimes, I read for a while … and then fell asleep.
Last night, I went to bed. I did the whole nightgown, hair, wash, brush thing. Of course. Then I adjusted our electric bed trying to find the angle which would give me the least amount of pain in my back while keeping me sufficiently upright to continue to breathe.
I then took the various medications I take before bed — some for blood pressure, others for pain, and one for actual sleep. That was when I realized my rash was acting up. Damn. I put some cortisone cream on it, but that didn’t do it. So I went into the bathroom and used the other, stronger gunk. I stood there for a few minutes waiting for the gunk to dry, then went back to bed.
I realized I couldn’t breathe. I used the daily inhaler. Still couldn’t breath. Used the emergency inhaler — twice. Breathing restored, I realized my eyes were dry enough to feel like I had gravel in them. I found the eye-drops.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch,” I said as the liquid hit the gravel. Garry couldn’t hear me. He had the headphones on and was deep in a western.
I tried another round of eye-drops. “OW!” I yelped. Two rounds of eye-drops later, the gravel had diminished. I realized I needed to do something about my incredibly dry lips. One round of chap-stick. Another round of chap-stick. One more round of chap-stick and by now, I’m wide awake. And my back was killing me.
I found the lidocaine cream. Applied it to my right hip. My left hip. Up and down the spine. Then — again — I waited for the most recent gunk to dry.
By now, a full hour had passed since I put on my nightgown and brushed my teeth. I had been sleepy, but by now, I wasn’t sleepy. Not a bit. I thought wistfully of those long ago days when going to bed was just … going to bed.
Worse, I still had to look forward to the thrill of getting out of bed. Convincing my legs and arms to wake up. Making sure my spine was going to let me stand up and hopefully, walk.
The getting up ritual is a whole other thing, starting with around four in the morning when I start readjusting the bed. Because during the night, my spine will congeal into a solid lump of misery. I have to decide what — if any — medication will help. I have to be careful because I can only take a specified amount. If I take meds at four in the morning, I can’t take them later.
You get the idea.
Sometimes, the complexity of going to bed then getting up — first for medication and going back to bed. Next, rearranging the electric bed, trying to go back to sleep, hearing The Duke hit the door, knowing if I don’t get up and give everyone a biscuit he’s going to keep hitting the door until the door breaks or I get up and do the “Good Morning, beloved Dogs” thing.
Nothing is simple. Especially not simplest things.
I’m not the first person to see this, but have any of you noticed that 2018 seems like 2017 on steroids? January is barely half over, and it seems like over a half-year has gone by. In 2017, we experienced “Trump Time.”
A crazy story that would have normally lasted a week or two, or maybe even a month, lasted for two days, tops. We were reeling from the insane shit the Shithead-in-Chief did on a Monday, only to completely forget about it because he did something even crazier on Tuesday. And that’s how it went all year.
Why? Well, it’s because of the word exponential. Most of us know what it means, but I think most of us don’t really understand it.
1. (Of an increase) becoming more and more rapid. “The social security budget was rising at an exponential rate.”
More specifically, we need to understand exponential growth, something that gets bigger and bigger, or grows faster and faster over time.
It’s hard for humans to think like that because we are hard-wired to think linearly. It’s easy for us to understand it takes a guy two hours to paint a room, so he can paint two rooms in four hours. Commonsense, right? That kind of commonsense is part of our DNA. It helped us survive in the old caveman days. Back then, we had to be able to figure out in a hurry how fast we had to run to get to that tree before the really large saber tooth tiger caught up to us and ate us for lunch.
The best example of exponential growth today is in technology. Like, say, computers. There’s a thing called “Moore’s Law.” It says the processing power of computers doubles and the cost is cut in half every 12 to 18 months.
That was true, but, it is a perfect example of linear thinking. In reality, the time that computers double in power and drop in cost is taking less and less time. Science and all knowledge, is growing at an accelerated rate.
It has always been that way. The increase in human knowledge has always been on an exponential curve, but the way the curve works didn’t make it seem that way until recently. On an exponential curve, things grow at a steady rate for a long time. Then suddenly, it hits a tipping point and everything begins to race along much faster.
Think about it. Humans have been on this planet as Homo sapiens for a few million years. Most of that time, we spent surviving. And throwing rocks at each other. Then, about 12,000 years ago, we stopped roaming and settled down. Although we still threw rocks at each other.
We created agriculture and civilization. Why did we do that? Because we discovered beer. I know this sounds like a joke, but it’s true. There’s a great documentary called “How Beer Saved The World.’ It’s fascinating, but that’s another blog for another day.
Basically, we had a choice. We could continue to wander around and throw rocks at each other. Or, we could stay home and make more beer. And throw rocks at each other. It wasn’t a hard decision.Think of all the science — all the knowledge — mankind figured out starting 12,000 years ago up until 1900. By the 1900’s the industrial revolution was well underway. Cities were lit by gas and some places, by electricity. People and industry moved on steam-powered trains. The internal combustion engine was in production.
All this knowledge doubled between 1900 and the 1960’s. From horse-drawn carriages to putting a man on the moon.
The knowledge of mankind doubled again between 1960 and 1980, then doubled again by 1990.
Can we remember when smartphones didn’t exist? When iPads didn’t exist? They’ve been around for a while, right? Actually, the iPhone came out June 29, 2007. That was just ten years ago. The iPad was released on April 3, 2010. Just seven and a half years ago!
When my step son was diagnosed with kidney disease, he was told he would need a transplant. I asked his doctor if an artificial kidney would soon be available. He said, yes, but not for at least 50 years.
A few years later, he received the transplant and Ellin was the donor. After the surgery was over I asked the same doctor the same question. His answer? “Oh yeah, they will probably make a kidney from his own stem cells. Maybe five, ten years from now. ”
Mankind reached the tipping point of that exponential curve. We’re at the point where the curve ends and the line goes straight up. This is when our knowledge quite literally explodes.
What does any of this have to do with our Toddler-In-Chief? A lot. In particular, with his mental illness. Literally hundreds of psychiatrists and psychologists are screaming at the top of their lungs that this nut job is, well, nuts. and getting worse.
You can see it yourself and you don’t need a Ph.D either.
Every interview he gives is a trip further down the rabbit hole. His last few interviews have gone from, “Bizarre” to “Unhinged” to “Insane” to “Insanely insane.” Read the transcript of his last interview with The Wall Street Journal. It was a literal word salad. Not a single sentence was complete or made any sense.
I just watched a news conference where the doctor that supposedly just examined Trump said he passed a cognitive mental test and he got all 30 questions right!
Really? The questions were things like “name four animals” and “point out what 3:15 looks like on a clock.” Wow, so the President is sane because he recognizes a cow, a pig, a dog,a rhinoceros and a pussy. He also knows when it’s quarter after three.
Do the same test next month.
I think Grandpa is not just losing it. He’s losing it faster and faster each day. It’s time to take away the keys to his car. Remove the big nuclear button from his desk. Get him into the memory care unit at a good nursing home. Hell, you can designate Mar-A-Lago as his official nursing home and lock him in his room. It’s only the middle of January as I write this and I’m hoping we make it to February. Last year, at this time we were hoping to make it to 2020. The month isn’t even over yet and he’s managed to shut down the government. Maybe that’s not a bad thing.
I apologize for not finding more humor in all of this. I try, but sometimes it just ain’t there. So, to make up for it. Here are two dogs playing “I Got Your Nose!”.