Birthdays With a Zero

Whenever we arrive at one of those birthdays with a zero in them, they are kind of a big deal. “Oh you’re a big ten-year-old now, double digits”. Twenty- you are finally becoming an adult and leaving those awkward, crazy teenage years no one ever warned you about when you turned ten. At thirty you achieve a new level of adulthood marked by actual responsibilities and obligations you thought were so far off when you turned twenty. At forty you come to know that you will probably make it in the world, because you lived through the stress and struggles of the thirties. At fifty you can finally start to relax a bit as security may finally begin to creep in to your consciousness and your bank account; your family is grown, or nearly grown, you can once again begin to enjoy a life you’ve built.

I’ve been through all of these birthdays with a zero, and as each one came and went I took just a moment to reflect on my life with those nice round numbers paving the way to my thoughts. I just hit another one of those birthdays with a zero. 60.

I’ve done a little more reflecting on this one than most of the others. Perhaps it is a sign of my generation talking now, but when I was a kid I thought sixty was the age when you actually are old. So achieving the ripe old age of sixty marks a spot in life that seems a true turning point- or at least it should be. My early conditioning about this venerable age is most likely the result of growing up in such close proximity to my grandparents. We were literally next door neighbors- so I was there when they were sixty or so. My grandmother was born in 1901. I was between six and seven years old when she achieved the age I just arrived at. But even then my grandparents “looked” like grandparents. My grandmother was a very sweet old lady with grey hair, always in a rather subdued state owing to a history of being somewhat “sickly” as they say. My grandfather was four years older than her, and had that old grandpa way about him too. More than anything, they acted like old folks. There was no physical activity other than that which got them through the day. They didn’t play physical games, they didn’t engage in any anything exciting. Instead they did “old people” stuff. My grandmother would crochet and watch Lawrence Welk when she wasn’t helping raise us. (parenting is a group activity when all the generations live next door to one another) My grandfather was just winding down his life as a truck farmer, and found some pleasure in whiling away an afternoon just sitting outside with his Roi-Tan cigar watching over the fields, or going to town on occasion in the afternoon to spend time at the S&S Cigar Store (a saloon) with other old guys from his generation.   And, they weren’t unusual. I think in the early 1960’s sixty was the demarcation line for the elderly. Not a line I ever looked forward to crossing myself.

But here I am. This is nothing new, most folks reach that magic number- so what I have to say on this matter is hardly new or unique. It’s just that this doesn’t happen to me every day, so I thought I’d use this essay to share my own reflections on this particular birthday with a zero in it.

As I was thinking about these kinds of birthdays, I found that I remembered each one of them pretty distinctly. There must be some truth to the idea that birthdays divisible by ten are kind of special. I remember that when I turned ten I was in the middle of the fourth grade. The thing I remember from the year leading up to my tenth birthday was learning that the world wasn’t always a safe and predictable place-or maybe we just become aware of it at that age. Just three months before I turned ten, all of us felt the shock and uncertainty that came with the assassination of JFK. Now you may not think that a boy of nine or ten would be impacted so much, but this was a real society rocker. Imagine- I was living in fairly secure home, surrounded by a large loving extended family and believing that life is just OK. We (Italian Catholics) were pretty smug about having the first Catholic in the White House. Then on that November morning, at our Catholic School, we are all summoned back to a classroom from the gymnasium to be told the president had been murdered- our parents were coming to get us- and no one knew what would happen next. I wasn’t scared- more curious, but I knew from that moment forward that things don’t always go right and even adults aren't always able to make sense of the world. The year I turned ten was a coming-of-age birthday about some of the harsh realities of life- even though I couldn’t possibly understand it all at age ten. Suddenly life goes from being something that happens around your house or school- to knowing there is another world beyond home and family that can contain some very dark features.

On my twentieth birthday I was busy making plans. The year was 1974. I had gone through my teenage years. I learned about falling in love. I went through high-school and all that that involves- learning (really, for the first time in my life) sports, activities, driving, independence, the freaking 60’s, more assassinations, worrying about the draft,  inevitable conflicts with parents, and the beginning of higher education. The big plan was to get married and move away with Lee to start our life. So there was a lot to plan! My twentieth birthday was all about the future I was preparing in my own mind- and it was an exciting, busy time. The summer after that birthday we got married. Age twenty is pretty young to get married, I’ll admit. I know that there were a lot of side bets being made about how long this marriage would last given our tender ages and obvious lack of life experience. If I believed in an afterlife, I’d bet any amount of money that there is a conclave of dead relative’s ghosts sitting around saying, “I would have never guessed that would last”.  For the record, It’s coming on up on forty years- so, HA!

My thirtieth birthday was time to settle in to traditional roles, or so I thought. The years leading up to age thirty were incredibly eventful. These were the first few years of our marriage. By age twenty-four we had two small children, and saw them both begin schooling. I had finished College and began my career. Lee had decided on what her career would be and she began her college education in pursuit of it. We moved a few times and I changed jobs, transferred to a new city that would become our permanent home. Both of my parents died, as did all of my grandparents, and a very dear uncle.  That’s a lot to cram into ten years. So when my thirtieth birthday came, it felt like it was time to just settle in to raising our kids and focusing on advancing our jobs and careers. It was during these years that we established lasting friendships here, that I’m happy to say, have been with part of our lives for the last thirty years.

At age forty you’re at the mark when your (dear) smartass friends start in with all the “over-the-hill” stuff. I felt pretty good and (if I say so myself) I was in pretty good physical shape so I didn’t let that bother me. As I looked back on the decade of the thirties, I reflected on how those were the years when our kids really began to grow up and we made some fairly good advances in our careers. I had moved into management positions and Lee’s career took off. These were years when we coped with the pressures of jobs and trying to create financial security that would see us through, and put the kids through college. We were both very fortunate that worked out well enough. But those pressures sometimes led me to be a lesser person than I should have been. I regret mistakes I made those years – but I’m confident they helped me to grow as a person. I liked being done with my thirties- so when the big 4-0 arrived I was good with that. 

Fifty was no big deal to me. I felt then that I had achieved a level of comfort with myself that allowed me to enjoy things more. Our oldest daughter had married and produced two terrific grand kids. I had changed jobs a few years before and was in a fairly laid-back phase of my professional  life- Lee was doing great with her career. Our youngest daughter had finished college and was just about to get married. As I reflected on life at age fifty, I was actually feeling pretty proud. For Lee and me, our greatest point of pride is seeing how well our daughters turned out. Both finished college and began work in their chosen fields. Both have become great parents- far better than me. Mostly though, they are both just great people. The birthday itself came and went without much fanfare. Lee and I did mark the year with some great experiences to celebrate being married 30 years and being fifty-years old. Two weeks in Italy!!! Amazing!!! There is nothing like being with other people from another part of the world. I think it really changes your life.

So here I am at age 60. This feels a far cry from my earliest images of being sixty. In fact, I believe the differences are real and not just some rationalized denial on my part. At age sixty, my best reflection is look forward. Yes the last ten years were also great- the family grew, with five grandchildren now and our daughters in their mid-thirties and experiencing success and great lives. There are always great moments, and times of sadness. Hey that is just the way life goes. And after sixty years, I’d have to say my family has been pretty damned successful. The changes I’ve made in myself and hope to continue with are all about the future. At age 58 I was able to start a new challenging job- I’ve taken up new activities and sought to learn new skills. I’m not saying I’m great at any of them – but my fountain of youth is in the constant search to add to my repertoire, instead of taking life passively because I’ve reached a “certain age”. Many folks I’ve seen grow more conservative in their personal lives and their politics (or world view) as they grow older. Oddly I’ve gone the opposite direction. I’m more progressive than ever. I’m interested in bigger ideas. I’m not interested in a world view that says we should limit people- I’m interested in a world where there is more inclusion, progress, and respect for all people. Those are the big ideas. Look at today’s headlines and you’ll know what I’m talking about.  All they want to do is say "no", take away from people, and express bitterness. That'll put you in the grave too soon.

I devote a great deal of thought and some action toward progressive causes for one reason- my kids and grand kids. Leaving them a better world would be a great and worthy mission in my view. The side benefit for me is that it adds vitality to my life so I don’t have to worry about birthdays with zeros in them. I know some great people who are older than me. The ones I admire and emulate are the ones who are still interested in the world and participating in creating the future. They are out there making things happen- at the gym working out every day- being involved- and always searching for knowledge. That’s my plan before I hit the next birthday with a zero in it. Wish me luck. Thanks for indulging me, and as always….

Thanks for looking in.

 

Political Correctness

Over the last week or so, I have been giving some thought to the notion of political correctness as it relates to an event that’s happening in my home town. I’ll explain a bit more about that event as we go, but first let’s look at this term itself. "Political correctness” has been with us for a while. It was first used in the 18^th Century in American political and legal discourse to describe what the words actually mean: to be correct in one’s political positions- to be consistent in one’s political intent and political behavior. The term became very much in vogue with early 20^th century Communists who also used it quite properly in extolling Communists to be true to, or correct in their Communists’ beliefs. Now, of course, “political correctness” (PC) is only used in the pejorative. That is, the term is used as an insult to those who are seen as over-sensitive to a fault. For someone to be called ‘politically correct” is to say that they have adopted a sensitivity to certain words, actions, groups, or alliances that take them to the level of just being silly: “Oh look at you being so PC- why don’t  you just lighten up?”

I think we’ve all been in situations where our old colloquialisms are politely challenged by someone suggesting that our words aren’t permitted anymore, because new forms of political correctness suggests that a better term would be more sensitive, and thus more “correct”. We don’t refer to “Negroes”- they are African Americans; we don’t use the word “Indian”, instead we say Native American; we don’t discuss Homosexual marriage, we discuss Gay Marriage. And the list goes on and on. So let me say for the record I’m quite glad we have political correctness! For all the fun that is made about the need for some people to be “politically correct”, it is a good thing because changing our language as a culture is one of the most important ways we change our behavior as a culture. More and more as I observe our culture and the politics that exists within it, I’m convinced that our conflicts and our polarization comes, in large part, from the language we use to describe each other and our behaviors towards one another. It is no coincidence that those who most ridicule and chide us for our political correctness are those who cling to old ways and refuse to be taken to a more enlightened place. The pejorative “political correctness” is merely a push-back against those who would take us to that better place.

So many of our biases and bigoted thoughts are deeply embedded in the language we use to describe people. It is almost a “chicken and egg” question. Which came first, the words we use about some people (queer, bitch, (N-word), spic, wet-back, lib, whore, red-neck, slut, chink, Injun, fag, etc.) or our prejudices about them? One thing I believe wholeheartedly is that actual prejudice, bigotry, and hatred cannot live long without the language we install to support it. So this movement to provide actual “correctness” to describe people is a good thing, in spite of the ridicule some people apply to the process. It got the name correctness because it is –more correct!

That brings me to the incident happening in my community right now. Last week a new bar had its Grand Opening in our downtown area. The place is called The Spokane Daiquiri Factory. The Daiquiri Factory is as the name implies. It is a night club that specializes in those fruity, frozen drinks people just love. Of course they needed to come up with some clever names for the many flavors of those drinks, and some of the names pay homage to local icons. But one of the drinks is called a Date Grape Koolaid. It is an all-too-clever (but not funny) play on words. But let’s think about those words for just a minute in terms of political and social correctness.  

Date Grape Koolaid is being advertised as a date RAPE drink. No other meaning can be derived from this drink’s name. When the menu list of daiquiri drinks first came out the response was instant. A protest and a social media  boycott campaign started up including a placard carrying group of people who showed up for the Grand Opening trying to dissuade patrons from going in. The message was very clear from those who demanded a change- they wanted the management to change the name of the drink and apologize for such insensitivity to rape victims and women in general. This whole scene started to garner a bit of news media attention and over the last week some national news outlets have begun to spread the story. As of this writing the manager has not given in to the protests and has, in fact, fanned the flames a bit himself by suggesting publicly that this is just political correctness gone awry. He explains that the drink’s name isn’t an insensitive gesture, but a sophisticated joke that the rest of us just don’t get. Apparently we are just too stupid to know that “Date Grape” doesn’t actually refer to “date rape”. His ardent defense of the defenseless and his self-congratulatory smugness only serves to make this episode even more unseemly.

I personally loath what his establishment is doing. It does indeed refer to rape- and that is one of those subjects that demands the highest level of political correctness we can give it. For anyone to suggest that the subject of rape is something to be joked about or used as a promotion, means they simply don’t know the facts; or they are out to openly promote violence towards women. In either case- it is wrong!

Here’s why rape isn’t funny or cute, and should never be construed as such. Rape is the most serious human violation of both body and spirit short of murder. 82% of all known survivors say that rape PERMANENTLY changes them. Up to 84% of all rape victims knew their attacker. There are 237,800 sexual assault victims each year. 75 % of men and 55% of women involved in acquaintance rapes were drinking or using drugs (making this case a particularly egregious and insensitive choice). 60% of all sexual assaults are never reported to the police and of those that are, only 16% of the rapists go to prison. Of all rapes, reported and unreported, only 5% of rapists go to jail. What these statistics say is that we live in a culture that promotes, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways, violence towards women. This begs the question of why we would accept a business using a product to promote more violence toward women.

There are some things that require true political correctness. This topic is one of them. If you think this is acceptable and just another case of over-sensitivity, imagine using the same logic in some other areas. Can you imagine the reaction to a drink name mocking a disabled veteran? (The G. I. Gimpy Gimlet) Or an Alzheimer’s sufferer? (The Memory Loss Martini) How about a drink promoting mass shootings at schools? (Columbine Shooters) No one would stand for that one minute, and the public outcry would be so great that any businessperson would immediately change their ways- even if they were crass enough to do it in the first place. But, when it comes to violence against women- and most particularly the vile act of rape, it just becomes a war of words on Facebook- instead of a harmonious societal revolt. I was shocked at some of the early responses I saw on the social media sites- some even written by women who suggested there ought to be more important things to worry about than the name of a drink. That is just another way to say the objections are just misplaced political correctness getting in the way of having some fun.

There is a place for political correctness, in fact there are a number of places for it. I keep wishing that we could stop taking sides and really think about what is truly right and wrong without first jumping to the conclusion that any issue needs to be measured by our political positions. This case is an excellent example of the problem. Before we jump to the conclusion that attempts to change this “rape drink’s” name is just a bunch of “libs” trying to do away with free speech, and spoil our fun- it might be good to think about how hurtful (unnecessarily hurtful) this crassness is to so many women. That should be a universally held position, not influenced by one's political leanings. If ever there was a situation that so clearly called for political correctness, this is it. This is more than just a clever play on words meant to cajole us in to noticing a product. This is an insult to our culture that is devoid of moral decency- because it is ethically and morally bankrupt in its disregard for women. Because words and language are the very soul of a culture, I would like to see a real resurgence in, and respect for true political correctness so things like this won’t see the light of day again.

Thanks for looking in.

Redistribution 2014

The word “redistribution” is usually followed by the words: “of wealth”. “Redistribution of wealth” is the most reviled phrase in the English language if you happen to be a strict capitalist, a conservative, or a Republican in America. For those folks, the phrase “redistribution of wealth” conjures up some very unholy and vile images. It quite literally means (to them) that hard-working, industrious, rugged Americans, who go out into the world and make their own way have their hard-earned money taken from them by liberty-hating government types who hand it over to lazy, no-good slackers who just want to live off of the labor of others. I know this true because I hear folks saying just that on TV and the radio every day. I hear it in the gym as I work out in the mornings and I hear it coming from the next table over in restaurants. I don’t mean to imply that this feeling is so widespread that a vast majority of Americans believe it-which must make it true. But I have heard it enough that I know some people actually feel that way.  So to even suggest that someone blatantly comes out in favor of ‘redistribution of wealth” would most surely cast them as a heretic, and a traitor to the “American Way”. Well, guess what? That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. I suggest that “Redistribution of Wealth” would be a great undertaking in 2014. In fact I suggest we redistribute a few other things besides wealth, but I’ll get to that a little later.

I think a lot of us have been conditioned to believe some incredibly inaccurate information about wealth in this country. Although it is true that many people have been able to capitalize on the American Dream of being a self-made financial success story, most of the current wealth in this country is inherited, or created by financial dealings that produce nothing tangible. Wealth in this country is a protected commodity that is sheltered and guarded by the advantages the wealthy have arranged for themselves through the sheer power of their money. One of the most important by-products of wealth is the influence that wealth affords those who have it to change laws and policies in a way that guarantees the wealthy get wealthier, while the middle-class and the poor pay for it. Of course the politicians who protect the wealthy would have us believe that the opposite is true. Every time some lawmaker or government executive proposes a program to equalize the economic equation, the opposition breaks out the old clichés about poor people just being lazy and trying to “take” from those who earned it.

In fact, over the last 30 years there has been a tremendous “redistribution of wealth”. That redistribution is the largest in the history of the country, which makes it the largest in the history of the world. Here are some facts (not to be confused by beliefs or talking points):

1. When Ronald Reagan took office he inherited a $3trillion national debt, and left office with a $5 trillion national debt spurred on by the faulty "supply-side" theory of economics.
2. When Ronald Reagan took office, the top 1% of Americans held 10% of the wealth.
3. When Barack Obama took office the top 1% of Americans held 22.4% of the wealth.
4. Today 400 American families own more wealth than the bottom 50% of all remaining Americans.
5. Today one fifth 1/5 of the people own four fifths 4/5 of all wealth in America.
6. Today income and wealth Inequality is the greatest in the history of the country.
7. Since the economic recovery began following the Great Recession of 2008, 95% of the recovered wealth has gone to 5% of the people.

Given these facts it is hard to not want a redistribution of wealth- only this time it needs to go in the other direction. Income and wealth inequality may be the single most dangerous element in our economy today. It far outweighs the issue of debt and deficit the Republicans always fall back to when confronted with real economists who have warned us about income and wealth inequality for quite a while now. It threatens to destroy any semblance of a middle class and to cast the poor into an unrecoverable downward spiral. Over the last 30 years or so, the middle class and the poor have remained economically stagnant, making the promise of upward mobility a lost dream in this country. However our politics continue to be an impediment to economic justice. Take for example two issues before the public square right now; Unemployment Compensation and the minimum wage.

Two weeks ago 1.3 million Americans lost the extension of their Unemployment Compensation. Never in modern history has the Congress failed to extend Unemployment when we have an unemployment rate over 5%. Congress extended it five times when George W. Bush was in office, and never once asked for an off-set to pay for it. Today the Republicans in Congress insist on an off-set, and have been haggling for two weeks while real American families suffer with no answer in sight. It seems the only off-set Republicans will accept is to cut other programs that aid the poor. No Republican is talking about an off-set that retracts corporate subsidies, farm subsidies, or closes huge tax breaks for the wealthy- that is the power of the wealthy on full display. Extending Unemployment makes good sense. That money recirculates in the economy and stimulates commerce. The Congressional Budget office calculated that every dollar spent on Unemployment Compensation creates $1.74 in economic activity. But to listen to the likes of Rand Paul and his ilk, those benefits are actually a “disservice” to the recipients- a classic and misguided notion that the unemployed are just lazy and really don’t deserve to get the extension. Let’s remember that every person on Unemployment lost their job through no fault of their own, and it is the state of the economy and government policy that is preventing those people from rejoining the workforce. But old stereotypes are hard to break, particularly when the people in power are being guided by the money interests who benefit from the current conditions. It is better to get more money into circulation, if not for humanitarian reasons, then at least to create more economic activity in the short run. Even as I write this the Congress cannot produce a bill to aid the 1.3 million who have been cut off with no other options. That number will grow to 2.4 million by the end of March. Partisan wrangling and petty power plays have once again won the day while Americans suffer.

On the issue of the minimum wage, the same dynamics are at work. There is a wide-spread acknowledgment that the minimum wage is grossly insufficient, with nearly 70% of all Americans believing it needs to be raised. Yet our Congress is unlikely to raise it. Why? Because they “believe” raising the minimum wage leads to job loss. There is not one single empirical study that supports that belief- and to the contrary every study refutes the notion that raising the minimum wage costs jobs. Consider these facts about wages in this country and how they are disbursed: 1 in 4 American households are headed by single women with children; 1 in 5 jobs pay minimum wage; 3in 4 of the minimum wage jobs are held by women- and of those jobs over 60% have no paid sick leave. Now consider that a full-time worker making (Federal) minimum wage earns $15,080.00 ($7.25/hr. at 2080 hours a year). The Federal poverty level is $19,530.00 per year for a family of 3- it’s $23,550.00 for a family of 4. In my state (with the highest) minimum wage of $9.32/hr. a full time worker makes $19,385 and is still under the poverty level. And, we all know that a huge number of minimum wage jobs are not even full time. The minimum wage issue is not just an economic injustice- it is a serious gender issue that affects women and children the hardest. It now becomes a moral issue for the nation.

There are far too many sanctimonious politicians and uninformed people who continue to cast the poor as the bad guys who are only out to live off the rest of us. The horrible result of these inaccurate and hateful beliefs are that they result in bad public policy. When the issue of raising the federal minimum wage is bandied about the halls of Congress and the nothing happens, who wins and who loses? The winners are the large companies (the McDonalds’ and the Walmarts’ and the rest) who defend their low wages while garnering unheard-of corporate profits. The losers are clearly the working poor who will never get ahead. But the other losers are you, me and all middle-class taxpayers. Programs like food assistance (food stamps) rent subsidies, Medicaid, and the like are programs our tax dollars pay for because these corporations are allowed to pay these paltry, non-living wages. In reality, every taxpayer is subsidizing Walmart and fast-food chains, because they won’t pay a living wage. This is the sad state of economic injustice in this country. But too many of us have been convinced by the right-wing conservatives to support policies that hurt us instead of help all of us by constructing a just redistribution of wealth through sensible public policy and legislation.

I have no faith that this Congress will honestly deal with our economic issues, let along institute fair policies that redistributes wealth for the benefit of the country unless a few other things get redistributed too. I’d like to see a redistribution of power in Congress along gender lines. Less than 20% of our Senators and Congresspersons are women, in a country where women outnumber men. That is worse ratio than a majority third-world nations.  Women would do a far better job of recognizing and dealing with economic injustice. All other things considered it is only right that our government should reflect the nation. It doesn’t now- 94% of the House and Senate combined are white men. I’d like to see a redistribution of rational thought in Congress. We have too many members of Congress who are strictly beholden to ideological positions instead of positions based in reason and good thought. For example, the Republican Chair of the Science Committee in the House, doesn’t believe in science. He’s a “young Earth” fundamentalist Christian who believes in the literal truth of the Bible. That promotes governance that doesn’t make sense, but we see examples of this throughout Congress.  And, I’d like to see a redistribution of real patriotism. I’d like to see our politicians turn back in to statesmen and stateswomen. The intractable politics of hate and partisanship has left us with no real patriots for more than a generation, only hallow politicians. These are not the people to deal with our real problems of economic and social injustice. They need to go, and we need to insist that we won’t be manipulated or fooled in to sending the same ineffective people back to do our business. We deserve much better. That might actually result in a redistribution of pride in our leaders. I hope 2014 is a year for redistribution of many kinds.

Thanks for looking in.

 

 

A Truce in the War on Christmas

I've never been convinced there ever was a war on Christmas, but some of the pundits like to think so and I'll go along just for fun. I am now calling for an unconditional truce in this "bloody battle" taking place in the season of warmth and love. My unconditional truce simply asks to acknowledge that we simply don't need this war of words in this special season.

One of the ways we can all enjoy the season more is to embrace a tolerance for one another and understand that the Christmas season can have a special meaning for all of us no matter what we believe in, or don't believe in. I always try to see the world in larger contexts than just my own experiences and customs. I try to find value in the ways of others- even others who are very different from me, or might even consider me to be their enemy. I've discovered that trying to think that way gives me a much better appreciation for the wondrous variety of life all around us.

To illustrate the point I'm sharing a Christmas song with you, one I bet you've never heard before. It's called White Wine in the Sun. It is an original song by an Australian musician, satirist and commentator named Tim Minchin. Tim tells us why Christmas has a very special meaning to him. Tim rejects the traditional meaning associated with the religious aspects of Christmas, and sings of  the very touching, deep meaning he has found in this holiday. It's about family; or he puts it, "the people who make you feel safe in this world".  When I first heard the song I was reminded that no matter what our beliefs may be, it might be good to realize the Christmas season can mean something different to us all. We are not all Christians- some are Jewish, some are Muslim, some Hindu, some hold to Native beliefs, some are non-believers- but all deserve good will. I hope you will enjoy this Christmas song in that spirit.

A WARNING for the very religiously sensitive among you. There are few lyrics in the song that are unflattering to organized religion (downright critical really)- but like I said, Tim is a satirist and a commentator. Nonetheless he provides us with a different prospective, and tells us there can be more than one "Reason for the Season". Perhaps that's the only way to really have a truce in the War on Christmas.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Season's Greetings. I hope you are with the people who make you feel safe in this world.

Sticks and Stones...

"Sticks and stones can break my bones- but words will never harm me." This old childhood adage is as familiar as it is absolutely INCORRECT. In fact, words can harm us. Words are sometimes the most harmful of all weapons used to wound our spirit, keep us in our place, or demoralize our lives. The latest set of words to grab our attention and propel the nation into our separate, and very polarized camps, were words spoken by Phil Robinson of Duck Dynasty fame. Phil was quoted from a GQ magazine article discussing homosexuality and racial issues, among other things. His comments are derived from his own version of his Christian faith and his experience growing up and living in the swampland of southern Louisiana. Phil and his family have parlayed a successful Duck Call manufacturing business into a reality TV show that features him and his family living life their way.

One of the most interesting aspects of this controversy that it (once again) illustrates that our culture has devolved to the point where any spark of conflict triggers us to retreat to our extreme corners and then come out swinging at each other like we all fall into only two distinct camps with no middle ground. It seems we have given up all attempts at nuance or deeper thinking when we are faced with contentious issues. We have become a people where we are: pro-life or pro-choice; ultra conservative or ultra liberal; fundamentalist Christian or atheist; Fox News or MSNBC; Homophobic or pro-"gay agenda", with no ability to see the details of  our arguments or appreciate anything the "other side" has to say. And, it appears, we are always looking for a fight. That kind of thinking has infected our Congress, causing it to be dysfunctional, and it is spreading to almost all aspects of our public discourse.

Having said that, let's look at this latest tempest of words and loyalties from the past week. The Robinsons are celebrities now. Given our worship of celebrity, an interview with Phil Robinson isn't an unusual thing. Phil is known for his back-woods wisdom and strong Christian faith, and has done quite a bit of guest preaching at his local congregation and other places around the country. But when the quotations from the GQ article became public this week there was an avalanche of shock and criticism. That led the parent network (A&E) that airs his show to suspend him from the show. That action caused an avalanche of push-back from some folks claiming that A&E was violating Phil's constitutionally protected right to free speech, and violating his right to practice his religious beliefs. Oh, how some have reacted! The social media is full of "I support Phil" sites with the usual chorus of right-wing politicians speaking up to defend Phil Robertson's comments- that would be the Sarah Palin crowd with Ms. Palin personally leading the charge to claim that Phil was merely paraphrasing the Gospel. She ends up concluding that "the liberal media" therefore must also hate the Gospel; and that is a very bad thing. There are those who claim the action by A&E violates the First Amendment to the Constitution. After listening to this for several days now I'm pretty sure some in this crowd don't have much familiarity with the Constitution or the Gospels.

Reading the quotations from Phil's interview left me feeling pretty disgusted with his opinions. I understand that we are all entitled to our opinion- but Phil's opinions are so offensive to many Americans that A&E had to distance themselves from him or be labeled as condoning them. For those of you who actually saw the comments, you know that he said, "start with homosexual behavior and just morph that out from there. Bestiality, sleeping around with this women and that women and those men". At one point he equated "the sin" of homosexuality to being a terrorist. Then he went on to describe his preference for the qualities of female anatomy compared to a male's anatomy, as if the selection of an orifice is the essence of committed relationships. What makes these statements offensive to me is that they cast a entire group of people with characteristics that simply aren't there. He certainly has the right to disapprove of homosexuality, but the way of expressing it was simply filled with inaccuracies designed to illicit an emotional reaction that causes harm to people.

Words can harm us. Words are the instrument to explain ideas, thoughts, and feelings. The result of these ideas, thoughts and feelings are actions. We have a long history of discrimination against gay people. It was not until very recently that gay people could be legally discriminated against in employment, housing, access to health care, and any number of other privileges. Even though many of those laws allowing discrimination have been stopped it is still clear that gay/lesbian people have a long way to go to gain full equality in our culture. So when someone uses the language Phil Robinson uses, it contributes to a stereotype and a mind-set that fosters more discrimination and sometimes even hatred. Phil's suggestion that gay people are the same as those who have sex with barnyard animals, the same as promiscuous people or prostitutes, or are sinners like terrorists ought to be considered offensive- primarily because it just isn't true. The same is true of his comments about race. For him to suggest that African-Americans seemed happier before the struggle for civil rights is so outlandishly inaccurate that it breeds total disrespect for an entire race of Americans and sadly cheapens the blood spilled, the sacrifices made and efforts of so many to gain civil rights and human dignity following the shame of slavery in this country.

The argument that his First Amendment rights are being violated is nonsense. The First Amendment protects us from Government censorship of speech. So far as I know the Government hasn't come after Phil and they won't. Freedom of speech has never been considered absolute or protected from all consequence. For instance I am not free to say certain things about my employer or the corporate values held by my employer. If I do-I won't get arrested, but I will surely be fired-just a Phil was. Nothing in this episode is a threat to the First Amendment. And as far as I know no one is stopping Phil from continuing to preach whatever message he chooses, in spite of how vile I, and others find it.

I cannot help but to hold Phil's comments up against my understanding of Christian religious values. To me they seem very far removed from the Christian faith. I fully understand that religious faith can have many interpretations and meanings to different people. In some ways that is the very nature of religion. In the many forms of Christianity, the definition of "sin" can vary widely and the ways of dealing with sin varies widely too. Some people, like Phil, choose condemnation accompanied descriptions analogous to every sort of evil, fitting or not. Others choose tolerance accompanied by forgiveness and kindness. Still others choose to see some transgressions, not as transgressions at all. Though I do not identify myself with any religion, I have a fairly good knowledge of Catholic faith from my upbringing and my education. Those experiences taught me that the definition of Christianity, put most simply, is to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. Nowhere in the New Testament Gospels (the story of Jesus) do I find anything resembling the sentiments expressed by Phil Robinson. Instead, I find a message of love, of tolerance, of acceptance and of charity. I have seen the words of Phil's defenders over the last week claiming that he (and they) aren't making judgments about gay people- they are just defending their faith which defines homosexuality as sin. But, in fact they are leveling a judgment- it is judgment that renders harsh consequences for gay people who struggle with their identity- a judgment that leads many people to needless shame, guilt, drug abuse, mental illness or suicide. At the very least it is judgment that devalues gay/lesbian people who live in life-long, committed, loving relationships. I know such people, and their relationships are as strong and loving as any heterosexual married couple.

At the beginning of this essay I mentioned that we are polarized and our discourse lacks nuance. The nuance I seek is the ability in all of us to see the grey areas in life. The nuance is to understand the complexity of human behavior and emotions, and not see things as black or white, good or bad, pure or evil. For those who want to practice Christianity better, I merely suggest there might be better authorities out there to take guidance from. The new Pope Francis may be a far better teacher than Phil Robinson. He, to my way of understanding Christian faith, is telling the faithful to focus more on charity and the commandment to love one another, than to condemn those you see as sinners. In that vein, it might be good to remember that sticks and stones are not the only things that can harm us-words harm us too. We should all use them thoughtfully, judiciously and with a spirit of kindness.

Thanks for looking in.

Thanksgiving For Grumpy Old Men

Perhaps I’m a masochist, but I find myself listening to a lot of talk radio when I’m driving around for work during the week. The only options in my community are the conservative talk radio stations with the likes of Limbaugh, Hannity, and Lavin. In the late afternoons there is a local show I will sometimes listen to that features an older local radio host- and he’s very conservative too. I listen these guys for two reasons; 1. I like political talk, and 2. Our community (like so many others) doesn’t have a progressive talk radio station any more. Besides, it is probably good to know what the “other side” is saying, and it gives me a little mental exercise taking them apart intellectually in my head. Although with these guys it doesn’t really take much intellectual fire-power to debunk most of their rhetoric. I get a particular kick out of the local guy.  His name is Fitzsimmons and he has this constant running theme that the country "is going to hell" and that we need to return to the “old-fashioned values” he grew up with in the fifty’s and early sixty’s. He laments, in almost tearful regret, that young people have no respect for society, that people are mean and suspicious of each other “these days”, that we can’t leave our doors unlocked at night, etc. etc. Then about every other day he goes into angry rants about the number of people on food stamps or other programs and, of course is he’s certain that it’s because we’re just becoming a society of lazy, no-good takers who would rather put their hand out-than lift a hand on their own behalf. To cap off this triple crown of daily whining about the “good old days” gone by, he of course blames it all on President Obama. Believe me; I listen to a lot of Obama-delusional rhetoric, but our local guy is as bad, or worse than any of them. I have renamed his show “grumpy-old-man radio” or perhaps it should be “grumpy-old-white-man radio”. Nonetheless, in radio world he’s the guy yelling at the kids to “get off my lawn”, while talking to a bunch of red-neck callers who join the chorus of complaining about the government while collecting their SSI for a “bad back”. (Have you ever wondered why all these middle-aged, white-guy callers are home all day listening to Limbaugh, Fitzsimmons and Co.?)

I don’t get angry listening to this stuff. I admit that sometimes it just have to push the button and switch to classic-rock or I’d go a little crazy. Mostly I react to this type of non-sense by realizing there is another world that is so much better than the one these merchants of negativity (and sometimes hatred) are spewing about all day.  I know that world exists because I experience it. That is the world I’m grateful for in this Thanksgiving season. In spite of the horrible state of national governance and the impossible conditions for future political progress in the near-term, I have faith in the kind of country we live in. My faith comes from remembering that as a nation, we’ve seen success emerge from very poor starts and seemingly impossible odds, spurred on by those who rather see political advantage trump national success. Chances are, those forces will not succeed in the long run. They rarely have.

During the last month and a half our leaders have engaged us in a costly and wasteful government shut down that had no positive results for anyone, followed by a very poor start to one of the most important social reforms in our lifetime. Given this recent record of malaise and political vitriol, it’s very easy to fall prey to the “grumpy-old-man” view of things. Our media, with its 24 hour news cycle and constant intrusion of internet news and opinion, seems only to exacerbate the negativity. But, stepping back a moment, it’s good to remember the other times when we faced similar situations, and things turned out just fine. Oh, I know that we have short memories and even shorter attention spans, but think about the past and take heart.

I’m quite sure there are better examples, but here are a few I thought of where we experienced a bad start, but where the ultimate success now define who we are. Our very nation itself began with an unsuccessful start. From 1777 to 1789 our first attempt at self-government failed. The Articles of Confederation formed our first nation and was a miserable failure. It was replaced by our current Constitutional government after twelve years. Lincoln’s first few years were a terrible failure. His very election was the last straw for southern states in their quest to preserve slavery, even if it meant destroying the union- and they tried to do just that. Lincoln suffered political and military defeats during his first three years in office on a regular basis. He now enjoys the legacy of being our best President and the savior of the Union. His crowning achievement was the abolition of slavery- but let’s remember that politics were far more contentious then than now, and the Thirteenth Amendment only passed the House by two votes in 1865- aided by some monumental skulduggery. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 passed the House, but then took six more months to get through the Senate, again with monumental skulduggery. And, even after nearly 50 years we are still struggling to fully integrate its true meaning into the American heart. FDR struggled for years to bring the nation back to prosperity during the Great Depression. He had many small successes, but just as many disappointments and setbacks.

During the last week we have remembered and honored the life and death of John F. Kennedy. Fifty years after his sudden and tragic death, we remember his charisma and his message of youthful hopefulness, when the nation seemed reborn. But we must remember too that he endured real failures and troubles in the short time he led us. He totally botched foreign policy in his execution of the Bay of Pigs invasion of Cuba, and lost several rounds in international diplomacy to Khrushcev- before facing him down during the Cuban Missile crisis. His domestic policies were stalled almost the whole time he was in office. But now our memories of him are about his inspiration and his soaring vision that inspired a generation to service and exploration. He inspired and challenged the nation to travel to the moon, but that too was plagued by early failures. We forget that all of the early rockets blew up on the launch pad, or exploded in the atmosphere. It literally took years to develop our capacity to travel in space. But we did not give up.

Today’s grumpy-old-man moment is filled with dissatisfaction over the Affordable Care Act. The political detractors of this huge reform are rooting for its failure and devoting not one moment to help make it work. They have filled the airwaves with ceaseless calls to repeal it and done their level best to convince us that we should pay attention to a website and never think about the policy behind it. Once again our short attention span directs us forget why this happened in the first place. In spite of a poor beginning, we did this because 50 million Americans had no access to health care in the wealthiest country in the history of the world. We did this because even those that had access to health care were regularly going bankrupt at a record pace due to the insurance industry’s tyrannical control of our lives. We did this because it was the right thing to do- the moral thing to do. And finally, we did this because there was a national consensus that health care access and costs had to be fixed; and the opposition party didn’t offer one single alternate idea- and they still haven’t! I would remind the repeal rooters out there at that this bad beginning to the ACA is no different than the bad beginning to Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid or Medicare Part- D. In none of those instances, or the monumental national setbacks described above, did we ever just give up or succumb the narrow partisan politics of defeat that accompanied all of these events in their day, like they do today. Extreme opposition existed in every one of the events I mentioned above. But somehow our national spirit allows for progressive ideas to win the day and move us forward. Every great step this country has taken in extending liberty, expanding human rights, or enriching the American experience or way of life occurred because progressives (or liberals, if you prefer) pushed for them. In each case the conservatives of the day pushed back, amplified the early failures, and called for them to stop-hearkening back to a past they felt was better, and foretelling ruination should they continue. But those reforms, those new freedoms, those progressive ideas that improved the lives of Americans did move forward because we tend to see things through to completion as a people.

I’m thankful that we live in a country that doesn’t give up. I’m thankful, that in spite of the naysayers and the political charlatans, we generally do the right thing. If those who came before us gave-up or gave-in as some suggest today, we might not have civil rights, women’s rights, Social Security, or Medicare. It's possible we might not have had a space program and the scientific advances it brought. We might not have this nation if initial failures or setbacks led us to just give up. The most important ingredient in any struggle is to keep improving, and keep innovating to overcome problems, not just give in to them. That's a part of us I'm very proud of, and most thankful for this Thanksgiving. Even though I'm getting older, and sometimes get a little grumpy, I refuse to join the ranks of grumpy-old-men who lament the old days, and refuse to look forward to a better time. In lots of ways the "old days" weren't all that good any way. Our memories, like wine, tend to get better with time. The future, even with its bumpy starts always holds more promise.
Thanks for looking in, and Happy Thanksgiving!!

 

Thoughts On My Death

It may be natural, if not natural then at least typical, when someone close to us or important to us passes away we consider our own mortality. I had that experience just recently when I learned of the death of The Reverend Monsignor James Ribble. Knowing something about him, I’m quite sure he would have always favored being called “Monsignor”; and I mean no disrespect at all, but I will refer to him in this essay from here forward as Father Ribble. I do this only because when I knew him best, he had not yet attained the distinction of Monsignor. So before I launch in to thoughts of my own death let me tell you something about Father Ribble and why he was an important figure in my life.

As I have written in other essays on this blog, I came from a devoutly Catholic Italian family. I attended Mass every Sunday and observed all the Holy Days. We belonged to a small Parish that was formed to accommodate the Italian immigrants in my small home town, primarily because the Irish Catholics from the big Parish wouldn’t allow the Italians in. (Not exactly an example of Christian Charity.) Nonetheless the intimacy of the small parish meant that the Priests could know the parishioners well. Priests were often guests in our homes and were treated with great respect and over-the-top courtesy. It was an honor to have a priest come to your home for a meal or a visit. As part of the Catholic upbringing, my sister and I attended Catholic school as well. I have to say that my elementary school performance was far from stellar. Then it was grades one through eight- then four years of high school. After eight years of “David is not performing up to his potential” my prospects in high school didn’t look so good. Here’s where Father Ribble came in.

In the fall of 1968 the Bishop assigned Father Ribble to be Principal of our High School. I was entering as a freshman. He had just come from a very successful stint as Rector at a high school seminary, where for the first time in their history the Seminary had become fully accredited. He did the same in the two years he was at our school. You might say he was a “fixer”. He was the one they sent in to turn things around and get schools on the right path. He also was keenly interested in having successful debate teams- because speech and debate was his thing. In every academic assignment up to then he had built very good debate teams that competed successfully at high levels. He had an undeniably successful method of recruiting. As incoming underclassmen we could choose debate or choir- and choir was not presented as a desirable option, making the choice a little easier.  Once he had a large crop of unsuspecting freshmen, he added hand-picked upper classmen and began culling the group for those he felt had potential in debate and speech. I was among the ones he picked to form the team. I must admit it was nice to finally escape the curse of the nuns who didn’t hold out much hope for my success, and told my parents their best course was to “pray for David”.  This was a turning point in my school life and my entire life to follow.

Debate team members worked with him personally and got to know Father Ribble on a very different level than any of the other students. Our school was small so most of us engaged in a number of activities. I played football, some basketball and track. But the lasting skills from high school came from my association with Father Ribble. He was the single most influential teacher and the most important influence in my life, outside of family.

 I got involved in student government during his time at our school and I often found myself in his office to discuss this matter or that, in addition the time he worked with all of us honing our debate skills. He had gotten to know my parents because he took an interest in my family; and he drove us to all to Debate tournaments on the weekends, dropping us off at our homes at the end of a day of travel, sometimes coming in to visit my folks. None of the lessons I learned from Father Ribble were religious lessons, oddly enough. Instead, what I learned from him was his sophisticated, charismatic method for dealing with a world that demanded excellence of thought, logic, and communication. He was not at all the pious, impoverished, humble padre’. He was physically big and rather handsome- an imposing man. He came from a wealthy family and he believed that in order to be good, you had to look good too. He tended to have the finest things, many of which were, no-doubt supplied by his very well-to-do parents. For instance, he owned a luxury Oldsmobile Toronado, the first production automobile with front-wheel drive. When he became Principal the first thing he did was repaint and renovate the school building. He always referred to the school building itself as “the plant” and often mentioned that its appearance was important even to a school system that was supported by parish donations and often cash-strapped. I’m told later in life as Rector at the Cathedral, if he did not find the flower gardens around the Cathedral to his liking, or up to his standards, he would have them torn out completely and done again. He took flying lessons and got his pilot’s license in 1969. The man never used a phone book. I often would marvel at his habit of calling  “Information” to get every number he needed. If it was there- he used it and could not be bothered to waste time doing anything mundane himself, even looking up a phone number.  In the last part of his life he traveled the world in his own unique bigger-than-life manner, I’m sure. He made tremendous contributions at every station in his life.

The great impact on my life came from his insistence that we master a subject, practice it with precision, always- always argue with impeccable reasoning and logic, and use our best voice to be persuasive in our presentation- that's Debate. In addition to instilling these intellectual values, he was also by far the best public speaker I have ever heard in any arena. Although he was only at our school for two years he completed the turn-around the place needed, then went on to earn his Ph.D. in Speech and Communication. Our lives intersected with his for some years after as we stayed in touch- he even conducted the funeral Mass for my parents.

Upon hearing of his death, I reflected on the influence he had on me, and probably on many others as well. Given that he was a Priest, it could be assumed that some aspects of religion crept into that part of me he influenced. But it did not. So, as one person’s death tends to remind us of our own inescapable death, I sometimes take the time to prepare my thoughts for my death, using many of the intellectual tools he provided us with.

For religious people (particularly Judeo-Christians and Muslims) death has a whole different meaning than it does for someone like me. For them, death is a gateway to another existence which is real for them because their faith tells them it exists. I am atheist. (Note: I use that word as an adjective, not a noun. Because to say I am “an” atheist is to put me in a group that defines me, like religious groups tend to define their members.) Because of how I think about the world, I don’t live my life thinking there is another life to follow this one. The way we think about life informs the way we think about death. It is ironic that many of my thoughts about life and death were influenced by a man whose entire adult life was devoted to religion- a state of thinking, acting, and being I do not accept or practice. But it was his insistence upon reason and logic that led me to this way of thinking, and eventually to the notions I hold now. Please don’t think I “blame” a priest for my atheism. I don’t. Even to suggest that a life lived without religion is a reason for “blame” at all would not be correct for me. I have come to this way of thinking very happily. It is almost inconceivable for religious folk to think that a life devoid of a “God” can be a happy one. They tend to believe their own religious notions so strongly that they think someone who has no religion suffers a deficit or a missing ingredient to be regretted throughout life. It is not that way at all.

For me and many more who think similarly to me (and this number is growing very fast world-wide) we tend to enjoy our life quite a bit, knowing that this is the only life we have. In some ways it is both a relief not to worry about the eternal damnation taught to me in my youth, or wonder about the eternal rewards religion mysteriously promises; and gives me reasons to live a good and happy life with the only life I’ll have. Therefore thoughts about my death are tranquil and peaceful to me. It is not a doorway to struggle through- it is the simple and logical end to an existence much cherished while I had it.

I try to put my existence into a perspective that says life occurs through a random set of events that took place on this planet, and I’m just fortunate to have mine. I know from scientific evidence that the world has been here for billions of years and that my species is a very recent development in a continuum of life that has seen countless species come and go. That is not a belief system- it is literally true, and sometimes religion has a hard time reconciling that truth. That knowledge tells me I need to cherish the life I have and not fear the end of it, because I know that my death is a natural result of life, as it has been for every other living thing on this planet. Science also tells us just how fragile life can be, and that are many variables which come into play in determining how long each of us has to enjoy it. I don’t see any evidence of a grand plan here where some are “chosen” to live or die, be sick or be healed by an unseen all-powerful being. To my way of thinking, using the logic and reason I was taught, that is a view of life that makes no sense and can be kind of terrifying when you think about it.  I find great peace in my own view of life that tells me my death is inevitable and natural- not a punishment or reward with more punishment or reward to follow in an eternal plain that somehow exists beyond the physical plain of the universe. In that sense, I’ll be OK with my death.

None of this is meant to insult or denigrate those who hold genuine religious beliefs, and despite the stereotype that people who think as I do are out to convince others to join their “Godless ways”; this just concerns my way of thinking about life and death. In fact, others who think as I do rarely promote their ideas to others and understand the need for tolerance for all kinds of different thoughts on these matters. They are also some of the most giving and generous of those I know. They do good towards others not because they are motivated by eternal rewards or punishment, but because they see good works and caring as a responsibility towards their fellow human beings; that is, it is the way our species survives best. Science tells us that we, as an organism on this earth, will eventually succumb to the failing of our bodies. That is my fate, as it is for all of us.

Father Ribble got me to church one more time this week when I attended his Funeral Mass along with a packed Cathedral full of devout Catholics and nearly every other priest in the region- most of whom were touched by his life as I was. I was there to honor this man of great intellect and accomplishment- and even to recognize the good he had done for the church. In a very personal way I appreciate that his life and his death have reminded me to reflect on my own life and my own death to come. I will cling to life and enjoy it to the fullest for as long as I can- as I know he did. But as I move towards my inevitable death I will do so knowing that my accomplishments are reflected in the family I have, and leave this one life being content with what I have done and those who have cared for me.

Thanks for looking in.