It Must Be Karma

Musing about which Thanksgiving was the most memorable was apparently not the thing to do in the larger scheme of things. Off to an early Thanksgiving Day drive to Flagstaff to join Rebecca for dinner, Prudence Prius shut down about 125 miles west of our destination. Kudos to AAA for its prompt professional response to our dilemma, setting the disabled vehicle on the lot of Findlay Toyota of Flagstaff at about 3 PM (we missed our dinner reservations but were treated to a delicious feast prepared by Rebecca and Kevin). I called Findlay bright and early Friday morning, and by shortly after noon we were told that the hybrid battery had discharged to the critical point—probably because of the steep pull, they said, even though we have made that drive dozens of times without incident—and that after recharging it we were ready to go. The $60 charge was painless enough, and we were happy to have back our transportation. Later that afternoon, however, having driven only a few miles around town, Prudence shut down again. Findlay was curious about why this had happened and how we were going to get the vehicle back to their location. I reminded the service advisor that it happened because they had obviously not repaired the vehicle and that placed the responsibility of towing on them. That’s where Prudence is as I write. We returned home yesterday in a 2008 Mazda 6 from Hertz, and will return to Flagstaff next weekend with the hope of picking up our Prius (in good working order). I’m thinking that this week’s posts will be of interest to Toyota, to Findlay Toyota Flagstaff, and anyone wondering what the reliability and repair record for a Prius actually is. Anyone reading this that may be so inclined to inform these entities that they are being “watched” might contribute to the eventual outcome.

Another Thanksgiving

Christmas trumps Thanksgiving in my childhood memories. It was the prelude for the glorious days of lights and songs that culminated in the grand finale, my birthday. As I’ve matured, I’ve learned to share the day with Jesus. As I have been trying to recall my earliest memory of Thanksgiving, however, I just don’t seem to go as far back into my childhood. I know there must have been feasts in which I partook, but the day just isn’t as sensational as the ones to follow. The Thanksgiving that stands out most clearly was in 1963, just six days after President John F. Kennedy was assassinated. We drove to Burlington, Colorado to be with Uncle Dale’s family, and the grief was palpable. My staunch Republican family was no lover of the Kennedy's. Indeed, many were the discussions that derided and demeaned the aristocratic air of the clan that had defeated Nixon in 1960. But the killing of the President was ghastly unthinkable and lent new significance to a day set aside to be grateful. It’s hard for me to believe that forty-six years have passed, years that have been filled with the love of family and friends. I reiterate once more than no person alive is more blessed than I. As with so many things, Thanksgiving is not the end but the beginning.

When Sanity Disappears

I just finished reading an article about church security and how it has become an increasingly important topic for all houses of worship. The opening paragraph stated that while Jesus may have taught to turn the other cheek, more and more churches are considering armed guards to ensure the safety of their parishioners. Going back two millennia to figure out some itinerant preacher’s take on how to deal with aggression apparently just doesn’t make much sense anymore, but even going back a couple of centuries doesn’t seem to address this contemporary crisis. The founders of this nation of ours saw fit to protect the right of the people to bear arms, but I know they didn’t do it in the context of trying to figure out how to keep someone from murdering someone else while they were attending church. When sanity devolves into insanity, the whole Constitution becomes archaic. Freedom of speech does not protect yelling “fire” in a crowded theatre. Freedom of religion does not protect zealots who aspire to theocracy. The pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness does not apply to inanimate corporations. I’ve expressed concern about where our country seems to be heading these days, and I am not consoled by the emergence of the Palin paradigm. The brilliant minds that set the United States of America in motion did so believing that humans are created a little lower than the angels and are therefore responsible for the larger good. When we reach the point of idolizing stupidity and the idiots that insist upon it, we may as well concede to armed guards everywhere all the time, even in the houses of the holy.

Happy Blackgiving!

I must admit that I’m almost to the point of thinking there’s not much of a future ahead for this once great country. I can understand how Thanksgiving has become the favorite holiday of many Americans because it stands on its own without requiring gifts, etc. For four centuries now, we “guests” of North America have expressed our gratitude for the bounty that is ours. But in recent years (do I just show nothing more than my bias if I calculate beginning with Reagan?) Thanksgiving has become a mere prelude to Black Friday. Commercialism will probably be the undoing of our once noble society. Christmas succumbed quite some time ago to being nothing more than a red and green color scheme for the orange and black merchandising that began Halloween. And now, the financial future of the United States of America depends on how much is spent the day after Thanksgiving. We can keep the ‘C’ and stay honest by just admitting that we are not a Christian nation but a consuming one. We’ve reached the point that if we quit buying we cease to exist. I’m glad that I’m not the one who has to explain to our ancestors what we’ve made of ourselves.

Why?

I’ve just finished reviewing TIME’s 50 Best Inventions of 2009 and find myself asking once again, why? I admit to joining Victor Frankl’s search for meaning. While it may not actually matter in the final analysis, I can’t shake off the question of why I am here. More to the point, why are any of us here? Whether it be the evolutionist’s belief that we are the result of natural selection or the creationist’s contention that God just put us here, neither does a very satisfactory job of answering the fundamental question. From the dawn of human consciousness the purpose of our existence has been enigmatic, the debate sometimes being very public and other times very private. Had we been more serious about asking the question in the past, we might not have found ourselves confronted by climate change, escalating population, and nuclear annihilation. I’m all for seeking solutions to these global dilemmas, and pronto! But I’m not sure that the invention of a biotech Stradivarius is going to bring us any closer to answering the ultimate question.

Two dear friends are getting married next week, and after I offered to get this passage to the lovely bride-to-be, it occurred to me that all of us could benefit from reading it again or for the first time. So, with love, I dedicate this to Richard and Aracely:

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I Corinthians 13 (NIV)

Reflection

Today I finished eighteen hours of mediation training. The course was informed and practical. It signifies a new direction that our director wants this office to take by engaging with parents to negotiate child support settlements that hopefully will seem fair to all parties concerned. Our administration wants to lift up that what we do is all about the children. The sentiment is nice, the reality not so much. I am fully behind involving parents in the process of determining what is best for their children, but the one flaw I am finding in this approach is the belief that all parents care. If that premise was true, there would not be a need for our services in the first place. Yes, there are parents who care for and about their children, but as a rule those are not the parents we deal with. In many cases, government’s attempt to legislate morality has resulted in nothing more than subsidized promiscuity. The more daddies the mommies can bear children with increases the monthly support. Men looking for sex without commitment hook up with women who are looking to collect and the children—always the children—suffer. So, I applaud our new focus upon the children, but I suggest that as a people we need to be examining ourselves on a much larger scale. Until we figure out a way to revere all life, to regard every human being as sacred, then those who go mindlessly poking their penises into receptive vaginae will never grasp that what we do is for the children.

Pro Lifers, Unite!

Report: More Americans going hungry by Amy Goldstein

Now, here’s the deal. Let’s say I’m vehemently pro life. This news that 49 million Americans “lack dependable access to adequate food” is unacceptable. And since I advocate death as the means by which to “protect” these already born human beings, I guess my first shooting spree ought to begin at the grocery stores that are profiting at the hungry’s expense (or at least not losing any profit by providing them with food). I’ll have to give some thought as to where to begin: the owners, the managers, or the rank and file that protect the food inside the stores from the hungry. Once I’ve wiped out all the food sellers (yes, I’m afraid we’re going to have to kill off everyone who has anything to do with restaurants, etc) then I’ll need to start taking out the food growers. This thing has the potential for turning into a vicious cycle, but that should not stand in the way of my doling out capital justice to protect the hungry (who, incidentally, may die without food). God won’t hear of it and neither will I. So watch out, you greedy food possessors, because we pro life zealots are coming for you just as soon as we clean up the abortion mess.

Powerful!

Compliments of Mary:

Whose Morals Should Control My Child Bearing? An Open Letter to the Catholic Bishops

by ValerieTarico

Just Plain Stupid

Scott Roeder has confessed to killing Dr. George Tiller, contending that it was justified to protect the lives of unborn children. Huh? Let me try that again. One man has justified murdering another man to protect the unborn. I must say, I am totally confused. Research has shown that these “protectors” heavily favor capital punishment, are anti-gun legislation, and homophobic to boot. A while back I wrote about the cognitive dissonance I was experiencing in my life, but mine pales by comparison to what must go on inside these schizophrenic heads. The one thing that consistently runs through their otherwise irrational argument is this: it is necessary to kill in order to save lives. Think about it.

Lets Be Friends

It’s not any of my business, but I’d like to know what you’re thinking. Leonard Sweet describes cocooning as the process of turning more and more inward as a result of the technology that is available to us today. I don’t need to get out and about as much when I can correspond, play games, order food and perform any number of other daily tasks right from my computer. The television started it. The latest news, sports and entertainment come right into our living rooms and, again, the technology has created a dizzying number of ways to do that. In spite of all this “progress”, however, we seem to know less about one another than we did when we personally interacted. I’ve never believed that the genie can be put back into the bottle, so trying to go back to a time before, say, television is futile. The forward looking challenge is to utilize the available technology to stimulate (dare I say, incite?) greater interaction that may have the potential for an even higher level of intimacy. We are still free to choose how we do our cocooning, and that may be the positive side of things like Twitter and Facebook that I’m only now beginning to experiment with. Our time together is finite. That, in and of itself, ought to lend a sense of urgency to learning as much about one another as we can.

PS Now everything's okay: Sniper John Allen Muhammad is executed

I Simply Remember

I am so grateful for being employed. I am so grateful for my home and family, and for (more than) enough to eat. Compared to the majority of the rest of the world I live like a king, and I am embarrassed and ashamed when I allow myself to be envious of the monied minority. I really need to exercise my attitude of gratitude because I feel so much better when I do. Eyeing the greener grass on the other side of the fence is demoralizing and draining. I am encouraged to want everything when in fact I want for nothing. I recently viewed a video of Michigan Congressman Mike Roger’s (R) opening statement on health care reform in which he repeatedly states that providing insurance for those who don’t have it punishes those that do. I am grateful for excellent coverage that has seen me through a number of health issues, and so I’m trying to figure out why that should make me feel punished that others want the same kind of coverage. Our king-of-the-hill mentality is unquestionably the work of the antichrist.

Let the killing begin.

The stink of war is in the air. Oh, I don’t mean those that are too far away to smell. What I’m breathing stinks. I suppose we have relegated to historians to wonder how it was in the days leading up to the American Civil War. Our country has never experienced anything like it before, but it is foolhardy to imagine that it can’t happen again. We are much better equipped to do violence upon one another than were our nineteenth century forebears. Brother against brother. We’ve been there before, and it smells like we’re headed there again. The treachery of the extreme right is bordering on the criminal by its incitement to rebel, to revolt, to secede, to divide the United States. Among the myriad of mind-boggling achievements of the Twentieth Century was the conception, implementation and perfection of global warfare that proceeds unabated into the Twenty-first Century.

I can understand if it seems odd that I have turned my attention of late to killing, but it is an undeniable reality which manifests in ways subtle to sensational every moment of every day. Remember the horror of Columbine? A society which accepts violence will not hesitate to kill. Such a survivor mentality has no regard for the majority unless it conveniently happens to agree. This last-man-standing-wins worldview should be taken into account the next time someone cries that their gun will be taken only from their cold, dead fingers. I can assure you that such a mindset has no intention of ever letting such a thing happen. The nagging nature versus nurture question is whether or not violence is inevitable. Is anything else possible? If not, we may as well be on with expeditiously exterminating each other until only one of us is left.

When Stupidity Reigns

Stupid

I know that this is not going to be politically correct, but I’m going to say it anyway. When did we Americans become infatuated with stupidity? One only has to look at George W. Bush to see that we elected a stupid president. I’m sure I’m biased, but Sarah Palin is stupidity manifest. The Playboy of my youth relished stupid blondes, or, for that matter, any female that was too stupid to say anything but ‘yes’. Dumb blonde jokes. Moron jokes. Pollock jokes. There was no end to making fun of the mentally challenged. But now we seem to have done a 180 and idolize those who can’t remember their own phone number without writing it down. I clearly remember the day that Steve Longshore and Mark Beniga slammed me up against a locker demanding that I tell them the secret to being smart. There have always been dumb jocks. But today it would probably be made into a reality series that would financially reward their stupidity. Before our technology made possible the destruction of the very planet upon which we live, maybe stupidity was something to be endured. But now that we can actually destroy ourselves, I think we need to reevaluate the wisdom of allowing stupdity to permeate the power structure. In other words, stupid is dangerous and we need to be about reducing the risk in whatever ways we can. That, in my opinion, is the smart thing to do.

Be Still

Where to mentally meander today? In this age of twenty-four seven there is no shortage of subject material. Should I think about war and peace? Should I think about health care and how it affects me? What about Wall Street, Main Street, or my street? How am I getting along with others? What do others think of me? Am I using the correct deodorant, shampoo and toothpaste? Is Mary using the correct detergent to wash our clothes and dishes? If I run completely out of things to think about, I can always wonder about how long it has been since I had an erection and how long it lasted. We are bombarded with information to the point of inundation, and the jerryrigged solution has been to flood our minds with contrived reality. It’s too bad that Scripture has gotten so tangled up in religion, because the counsel of the psalmist (Psalm 46:10) would make so much sense in our hurry scurry world. The relationship with our Creator has been the victim of religion gone bad and I’m not real sure how we go about rectifying that. Taking the time to reconnect with what’s truly important, however, may be a good place to start.

Beyond Reason

I like to think of myself as a reasonable person, meaning by that I have a reason for the things I do, think, believe, etc. I find myself, however, having done something that in retrospect wasn’t quite rational. I signed up for Facebook. Now, becoming a tweeter was based on an article that I read (where else?) in TIME and tweeting is a relatively benign way to stay in touch with family and friends by occasionally answering the question, what are you doing? The Facebook question of what’s on your mind seems innocent enough, but the program’s ability to insidiously dredge up the past was quite unexpected. To date, the oldest “friend” I’ve “discovered” is Ken B. who confirmed that our knowledge of one another dates back to elementary school. A pleasant reacquaintance from high school is Gina H. who is still trying to get a handle on exactly who I was then and how that stacks up against whom I am now. This, for me, is the Facebook conundrum. With Heraclitus’ river running freely for decades without the assistance of these old classmates, what is the reason for getting in touch with them now? Facebook is proving to be an exercise in name recognition combined with introductions to innumerable possible new friends that mean even less (if that’s possible) than someone I haven’t even thought about in fifty years. It is interesting to learn what Crab and Rat are doing now, but in the larger scheme of things the flame is quickly extinguished. The truth is, there was no real interest in friendship back then, so why would there be an interest in being friends now? That, my friends, is unreasonable.

Moving On

Some sort of malady took the wind out of my sails last week but I’m on the mend. As I approach sixty, I realize that I just don’t get sick as well as I used to. Actually, it’s just the opposite. I don’t get well as quickly as I once did. I’m also realizing that all the medications I’m on seem to lower my resistance to viruses that were once just inconvenient, allowing them to now become full blown. For us mortals, there is no going back. We relentlessly move forward in time and space toward our ultimate destiny and can do nothing more than remember what is was like before. With age and reflection comes an ever-changing worldview which either aligns itself with reality or opposes it. Happy are those who do not rebut reality.