While I'm Getting Well...

...Jim Wallis has this profound prescription for one of America's ills:

http://blog.sojo.net/2009/07/29/the-professor-and-the-police-officer-got-trapped-in-the-script/

More; Compliments of Mary

http://74.125.155.132/search?q=cache:http://www.huffingtonpost.com/bill-maher/new-rule-not-everything-i_b_244050.html

It's Never Too Late

Mary forwarded this huffington post to me 06/22/09 and may have come to believe that I would never read it. I just did, and I'm grateful for a technology that empowers me to pass along such powerful thoughts as these with ease:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/frank-schaeffer/the-real-lesson-of-iran_b_218359.html

He Shall Lead Us...

...by his example.

http://www.reuters.com/article/topNews/idUSTRE56O1O420090725

URGENT REQUEST FOR ACTION

I have sent the following e-mail to my U.S. Senators, Representative, and the White House:

How you can recess at this critical time in history is beyond me, but rest assured that if you do, you will lose my future vote. The needs of We the People are not afforded the luxury of an August vacation, and a true servant of the people will not shirk the task at hand until it is completed. Do the right thing by staying in session for as long as it takes to pass genuine healthcare reform that will benefit every citizen to the same degree to which you are accustomed.

I strongly encourage everyone to communicate their feelings to their elected officials. It is high time that the aristrocracy of Washington D.C. be held accountable by We the People!

Honest!

The first half of my mandatory lunch hour I spend eating and reading TIME. The second half is spent blogging. Hence, the influence of what I’ve just read on what I write. Today’s subject was the final days of the Bush Administration and the rift that developed between Bush and Cheney as the vice-president pushed hard for I. Lewis (Scooter) Libby’s pardon. Because my simple mind requires simplistic analysis, I am reminded of that line of Sir Walter Scott’s often quoted to me by my mother, “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” I find this germane to this ongoing discussion of trust and the critical role it plays in our personal, communal and societal lives. Once the lie, the deception, is out, there is virtually nothing that can bring it back. The damage is done. The trust is broken. As I’ve said before, it doesn’t even have to be intentional for the damage to be done, although intentional deceipt ultimately destroys any chance for restoring the trust lost. It all sounds pretty childish, and that’s when it would do us well to remember that Jesus reportedly pronounced that the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to children. I will need to research the developmental psychology studies to see if I can determine just when our human mind figures out that it is possible to be deceitful and dishonest. The age old story of the Garden of Eden offers its own explanation for the shameful consequences of being less than honest. Whoever said it (Franklin, Twain, Shakespeare) hit the nail on the head, “Honesty is the best policy.”

Where's the Trust?

I can tell that since joining twitter.com my style is being influence by the question “what are you doing?” What I am doing right now with what’s left of my lunch hour is wondering if there is any issue more central to the human condition than trust. The liturgical equivalent of “trust” may be “faith”, but I find enough distinctions between the two to find them not synonymous. Even without an active consciousness, the fetus finds security—a form of trust—in the womb that is either continued or abruptly disrupted at the time of birth. The research that has shown a critical need for bonding between mother and child in the first few moments after birth should be shedding light upon those circumstances which deny the development of that trust. For many humans, it is more than just imagination to enter this life unwanted, a condition which irreparably disintegrates any sense of trust. Without trust, interpersonal, familial and communal relationships cannot genuinely exist, a truth to which we ought to be paying more attention.

And That's the Way It Is

The most trusted American, Walter Cronkite, is no longer among the living. I’ve heard it said that George Clooney doesn’t want to live in a world without Walter, and if that’s true, I agree. Trust can be so easily betrayed, many times beyond repair. That Cronkite lived his 92 years in such a way that he never forfeited trust is a tribute to his almost superhuman stature. The only other man that I can think of who may be able to inherit Cronkite’s title is Barack Obama, and he’s barely past the halfway mark. Over the years, quite inadvertently and unintentionally, I have betrayed the trust of those I most love. Misperception, misunderstanding, and the failure to put others before self have contributed to breaches that at times have seemed irreparable. Trust is the critical element of love. Without trust, love cannot exist. Trust must be earned, and earning it back is infinitely more difficult than never violating it in the first place. I cannot think of a higher distinction than to be proclaimed the most trusted person in America, and while I have already dashed any hopes of being myself thought of in such a way, I thank Walter Cronkite for demonstrating that the standard is humanly possible and worthy of emulation even by those of us who have failed.

Let’s Get Eschatological

I find some small consolation in knowing that greater minds that mine have wrestled with the purpose—the meaning—of human life. Are we here simply to procreate? And if that is our reason for being, it seems that we are quite near the end of it because we have propogated our species to the point of no value; war is an instrument of determining the worthy and the worthless. In her essay, Kaitlin Flanagan asks, “Or is marriage an institution that still hews to its old intention and function—to raise the next generation, to protect and teach it, to instill in it the habits of conduct and character that will ensure the generation’s own safe passage into adulthood?” I would then ask, raise the next generation to what; to protect and teach it to what? What conduct and character ensures safe passage into adulthood? The Socratic axiom that the unexamined life is not worth living abides throughout the ages, and I suppose it will continue to do so until the end of time.

Marriage: Las Vegas Style

I am dining out this week in Mary’s absence (she’s in Flagstaff with Rebecca) and that cuts just a tad into my lunch hour blogging. As I continue to study Caitlin Flanagan’s essay on marriage in America, I am reminded of how incredibly blessed I am by Mary. She is the epitome of womanhood and motherhood, and she has tolerated my shenanigans lo these thirty-nine years. Each day she voluntarily (anyone who knows Mary realizes that it could not be otherwise) prepares a tasty and healthful lunch for me to consume in 406-02. That is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to her wonderful qualities. Obviously, a part of me is missing when she’s not by my side. I am counting the hours to our reunion, and that tells more than enough about the state of our union.

Why Marriage Matters

Let the discussion begin. First, it is extremely important for everyone to read Is There Hope for the American Marriage? by Caitlin Flanagan. Just before going to lunch, I assessed a case in which the male was the biological father of four children by three different women and the female was the biological mother of four children by four different men, one of which was among the father’s four. Flanagan’s essay does an excellent job of explaining why this issue is critically important to our society, and how what’s happening in America is far more deleterious than any terrorist attack. Once again, I will strive to stimulate commentary from all of us who see this as perhaps the most important issue of our time.

Return to 406-02

Today's post will be brief because I spent my lunch hour with Mary, Rebecca and Kevin. We dined elegantly at the Potato Valley Cafe (a must for Las Vegas visitors). Mary will be returning to Flagstaff with R&K, and I'll go there to bring her back this weekend. We are a geographically diverse family. The backlog upon my return to work today isn't too bad, although we didn't seem to run out of irresponsible Adams and Evas while I was gone. I'm still savoring the week in Fort Collins as I begin to imagine it as our final destination.

On Earth As It Is In Heaven

I failed to keep a daily account of the first phase of our move to Fort Collins, Colorado, and so I will here attempt to summarize.

On Friday, July 3, we flew Allegiant from Las Vegas to Fort Collins and were met at the Loveland-Fort Collins Airport by Rachel. Rachel drove us to the Marriott where we rented a 2009 Subaru Impreza from Hertz. We picked up Five Guys burgers (and the vegetarian equivalent) to feed the crew who had already driven to the new house. After eating, we started settling in. Steve’s sister, Allison, and her husband, Dennis, were a great help. The realtors who had helped us with the purchase, Dave and Margo, provided us all with pizza for the evening meal. Mary and I inflated the bed we had shipped ahead of us and spent the first night in our luxurious new bedroom.

On Saturday, July 4, Mary and I met my dad, Earl, and his wife, Rhonda, and traveled together to see the new Greeley residence my Aunt Esther had just moved into. Her daughter, Dalene, son, Gary, and his wife, Maureen, were all there to share an Independence Day picnic prepared by the staff. Dad and Rhonda then returned to Fort Collins with us to see our new place. They then headed back to Littleton while the settling in to Ridge Runner continued.

On Sunday, July 5, I experienced the utter joy of reuniting with my (virtually) lifelong friends, Paul and Rob. Rob came with his wife, Suzy, and their daughter, Kelly. Paul brought his granddaughter, Alison, who was delightfully nine years old. The three of us had not been together since going to Chicago for Neal’s wedding in (we’re guessing) 1994. Known as the Three Musketeers at Arvada United Methodist Church, we regaled our captive audience with tales of old that continued even after everyone else got up and left. One of the great things about returning home will be being closer to family and friends.

Monday and Tuesday, July 6 and 7, were dedicated to completing the move in earnest. Rachel and Steve needed, of course, to be at their work which allowed Mary and me to spend some cherished time together. Target, Home Depot, Lowe’s and Sears are all wealthier after purchasing blinds, lawn mowers, and many of the other things that apartment dwellers don’t need (Rachel and Steve were included in the selecting and purchasing, really!) Tuesday evening we all drove down to Westminster to select and purchase a dining room table and chairs, drove by our old townhome and ate supper at the Village Inn where we often ate after Rachel was born twenty-five years ago. I definitely felt like an old man on the drive home as I tried to assimilate how much everything had changed since we left in 1984.

Each lunch hour was spent with Rachel and Steve, and on Wednesday, July 8, we were introduced to the delightful Café Vino. Anticipation was running high for the arrival of Mom and Kim from Billings. They arrived about supper time, and so we had a fantastic dining experience at Jasmine Gardens and then showed them the new house. We spent the day Thursday with them, starting with breakfast at Ridge Runner and continuing on to tour Fort Collins. Kim redeemed the behemoth by carrying a load of big things from the apartment to the house that would never have fit in our tiny Japanese gas sippers. Kim and Kirby had lived here while they were going to school, and she also had to assimilate the many changes. After breakfast at Charco Broiler, Mom and Kim returned to Billings on Friday when Mary and I put the final cleansing touches on the apartment.

Today, we bought fresh produce at the farmer’s market which Mary cooked up in a delicious stir fry; the first home cooked meal in our new house. Dalene and Tommy came over this afternoon while we were potting plants that we had purchased at the market. Tomorrow we will wing our way back to Las Vegas and turn Ridge Runner over to the care and safekeeping of Rachel and Steve. Lunch blogs will resume on Monday along with work. Accompanying pictures can be found on the “photos” link. Life is good.

What A Great Country!

I suppose that after 39+ years it is predictable that Mary and I sometimes think the same thoughts (and yes, there are many times that our thoughts are quite disparate) as we did today. Encountering a snag with the details of their closing postponed Rachel and Steve’s receipt of the keys to their new house, but things appear to be back on track. But Mary and I both thought about what a marvelous, miraculous thing it is to live in a country where this kind of transaction can even take place. We are the beneficiaries of a freedom unknown to much of the world, and we have our courageous and wise forebears to thank. We recently viewed the John Adams series, and that revived the patriotic feelings of four years ago when we toured some of those historic places. It is a good and proper thing to remember those who founded this great country, but that doesn’t let us off the hook to assume the reins of responsibility for continued progress. If I could ask President Obama one question this Independence Day, it would be, “How may I help?”

Let the Countdown Begin!

In a little more than an hour from now, Rachel and Steve will be closing on their new house in Fort Collins, Colorado. My predictable parental interest is compounded by the extraordinary fact that Rachel and Steve have invited Mary and me to live with them. This back to the future return to multiple generations living under the same roof was prompted by many conversations about greener, more economical living. From my old hippie days (my apologies to the real hippies; I know I didn’t qualify) came the question of communal living, of sharing resources and responsibilities. Why should four, six, eight, however many people involved require their own individual residences with separate kitchens, bathrooms, etc. Predating the “can’t we all just get along?” question by quite a bit, it seemed that giving up idiosyncratic privacies would be a small price to pay for the overall benefits. It is hard for me to express the degree of satisfaction and gratitude that comes from knowing that my children aren’t eager to dissociate themselves from me once they’re adults. Anyway, the hope is to be blogging from Fort Collins a year from today. That is going to entail a great number of details which will be the focus of Incite for the coming year. I understand if that’s not very interesting to you, dear reader, but it is important to me…and it’s my blog! As always, comments are welcome and may prove helpful as we wind our way toward home.