The month of December is filled with incredible highs and lows - at least for me. I've written twice already this month about two of the most wonderful experiences I've had during this month - the birth of two of my children, my eldest and my youngest.
Unfortunately, today marks the anniversary of one of the worst lows I've had too - the death of my father, John Hughes, who passed on this day 31 years ago. The good news was I had, with my bride and two children in tow, just visited my parents less than two weeks before his death. My dad had literally begged me to come visit him and mom so he could see his only granddaughter and the newest of his grandsons, my boy who had been born in July of that year.
I had resisted the visit because we were broke and I didn't want to incur any more charges to credit cards. However, for whatever reason, I finally gave in to my dad's requests to come visit and arranged the trip, going into further debt. The weather was beautiful in Southern California while we were there and we spent most of our time simply visiting with my parents.
My dad, on several occasions, said things like, "This will probably be my last Christmas" and "It will likely be the last time I'll see you". As a 33 year-old man, unaccustomed to discussing death, I kept telling my dad to "Quit being so morbid". I have to confess that he did look weak and tired, but I didn't want to face the facts that my old man, who had had several heart attacks over the years and had undergone open heart surgery, might be as sick as he said.
This, after all, was the toughest person I had ever known - and still, to this day, have ever known.
When the day came for us to return home, he hugged me longer than usual and kissed me, then telling me how much he loved me and how proud I had always made him. We were both choked up as I, and my family, left. There were things that I should have said that day that I didn't. I will always regret that I didn't have the courage to do so. That day was December 9th, 1979. 10 days later my father died.
I was out on sales calls on December 19th, 1979. I had finished a lunch appointment with a client and instead of returning to my office, I decided to make some cold calls on clients in the nearby area. It was a clear, beautiful day in Denver. So, after making a couple of calls, I finally returned to my office in downtown Denver.
When I walked in, I knew something was wrong almost immediately. My secretary had a strange look on her face when I said hello, and as I glanced into my office, my wife was in there, speaking on the telephone. I was puzzled. My bride quickly hung up the phone and when I walked in, she closed the door behind me. She then came to me, hugged me and said, "Your Dad died this morning."
Like the trooper she always was, my wife had already started the wheel in motion. She had made plane reservations for me for later in the early evening, and had arranged for her parents to babysit our children, so she could join me later.
The next several days were awful. My mother and brothers were waiting for me, and arrangements had already been made. My mom, of course, was in state of shock as she told me the events of the day.
My dad had not been feeling well so had told my mom he was going to lie down. A few minutes later, my mom heard a sound come from the bedroom. She went into the bedroom and called, "John...John..." several times. There was no response. As we determined later, the sound she heard was his last breath. My dad had suffered his final and fatal heart attack.
I don't know that I have ever cried as much as I did over the next few days. Though we all knew my father wasn't in the best of shape, none of us expected him to die so suddenly. Compounding my general sadness over the loss of my father was the fact that I simply didn't take the time to tell him all the things I should have when I visited only a few days before.
It is now 31 years later and it is still one of the biggest regrets of my life. I miss him almost every day and wish he were here so that I could tell him those things. Knowing I am 64 and my life is in it's December, I know I'll be seeing him sooner rather than later is also knowing I'll have that opportunity again.
Old Fart Mike
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Friday, December 10, 2010
Surprise Christmas Gifts
Today, is the birthday of my youngest child. My wonderful son, Kevin, who weighed 8 lbs. 9 oz. at his birth, 28 years ago.
In early March of 1982, my bride and I were very surprised to learn that a third child would be on the way later in the year. We had had a very difficult time in conceiving after the birth of our first child and felt we were extremely lucky when our second child was born. My bride had suffered miscarriages, and, as we were in our mid-thirties, we felt that our time was up for having babies. So, we had pretty much resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have only two children. But God had different plans for us. As is always the case with His decisions, we were blessed with the addition of our beautiful baby boy. Kevin always has taken our comment about being surprised the wrong way, unfortunately, thinking he wasn't wanted. This has never been the case, of course, it was just we were incredibly surprised that we were pregnant.
Since his mother had undergone an emergency C-section with the birth of Kevin's older brother, Ryan, some 3 1/2 years prior, and medical procedures had not yet reached a point where natural childbirth could be conducted after a C-section had transpired, we were able to schedule Kevin's birth.
His older sister's birthday was December 8th, and we didn't want to conflict with that, so we opted for December 10th, allowing for a separation of a day in between the two - allowing the two children to have their celebrations apart from one another.
We were living on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, where few facilities existed, so we had to make the trek to Beaufort - 40 some odd miles to Beaufort Memorial Hospital, and actually driving off an island via trestle bridge that had been closed the winter before in typically high winter winds, which did not us ensure getting off the island, to the mainland in some pretty bad weather. We left rather early in the morning that fateful day, excited about the arrival of the newest member of our family. As was the case with our other two children, we had decided not to determine the gender of the forthcoming baby, preferring to be surprised.
We had narrowed down names for a boy to either Colin, Connor, or Kevin, deciding to make up our mind once we actually saw our newborn child. We arrived at the hospital about 45 minutes prior to the 9:00 AM appointment for "delivery" - that's how excited we were - and checked in.
At a little after 9, I kissed my bride and she was wheeled away to the delivery room. I was left to wait, praying that all would go well. Since I knew I had a few minutes at least, I snuck outside and chain-smoked about 8 cigarettes in succession. Returning, I was advised that I was the father to a new, healthy, baby boy and that my wife was doing fine. Though it sounds trite now, I about jumped for joy. And, I silently said a prayer of thanks.
A few minutes later, while my wife was still recovering, I saw - and held - my beautiful baby boy for the first time. Though I had done this twice before with my other two children, nothing compares to the joy of meeting you newborn for the first time. Tears, of course, were shed, as I, again, was delighted with newest addition.
When my bride came to in her room a little while later, she too, was able to become acquainted with this little ball of wonder. He had a full head of hair, and dark eyebrows. We smiled, kissed each other, and him. Obviously, we had to examine our baby, checking for all his fingers, toes, and the like. He was beautiful, just like the others.
After a few minutes, the subject of a name came up. My wife said, "He looks like a Kevin" - something I had been thinking a few minutes earlier. So, our boy now had a name. Our third love affair began that day.
The days, months and years pass all too quickly, as parents throughout history can tell you. Today, our youngest progeny celebrates his 28th birthday.
Over the years, there have been so many wonderful moments - and as I said about my daughter, who just celebrated her birthday 2 days ago - the highlights of those years are too many to list here.
However, watching him grow into the fine young man he is today has certainly had it's impact on my life.
There are specific moments we've shared I'll never forget. Going with him & his mom to pick out his dog, a Golden Retriever he named Mercedes, and seeing the smile and love on his face. The weekend we spent together going first to Norman for an Sooner football game, then on to Dallas to watch the Cowboys play the Giants, spending the night at a hotel, was memorable, and a chance for us to re-bond. Picking him up from football practice at Kelley, when his Pads smelled so bad it stunk up the car and us laughing so hard, I could hardly drive. Taking him and his friends to OSU to register for classes for the first time; the Dad's days we spent together; Our Vegas trip celebrating his 21st birthday; seeing him fall in love; so many more.
He is a remarkable young man. An incredible sense of humor, plus a sensitivity unknown to most young men of his age.
Over the years, I have been blessed with many Surprise Christmas gifts, but he was absolutely the best.
Old Fart Mike
In early March of 1982, my bride and I were very surprised to learn that a third child would be on the way later in the year. We had had a very difficult time in conceiving after the birth of our first child and felt we were extremely lucky when our second child was born. My bride had suffered miscarriages, and, as we were in our mid-thirties, we felt that our time was up for having babies. So, we had pretty much resigned ourselves to the fact that we would have only two children. But God had different plans for us. As is always the case with His decisions, we were blessed with the addition of our beautiful baby boy. Kevin always has taken our comment about being surprised the wrong way, unfortunately, thinking he wasn't wanted. This has never been the case, of course, it was just we were incredibly surprised that we were pregnant.
Since his mother had undergone an emergency C-section with the birth of Kevin's older brother, Ryan, some 3 1/2 years prior, and medical procedures had not yet reached a point where natural childbirth could be conducted after a C-section had transpired, we were able to schedule Kevin's birth.
His older sister's birthday was December 8th, and we didn't want to conflict with that, so we opted for December 10th, allowing for a separation of a day in between the two - allowing the two children to have their celebrations apart from one another.
We were living on Hilton Head Island, South Carolina, where few facilities existed, so we had to make the trek to Beaufort - 40 some odd miles to Beaufort Memorial Hospital, and actually driving off an island via trestle bridge that had been closed the winter before in typically high winter winds, which did not us ensure getting off the island, to the mainland in some pretty bad weather. We left rather early in the morning that fateful day, excited about the arrival of the newest member of our family. As was the case with our other two children, we had decided not to determine the gender of the forthcoming baby, preferring to be surprised.
We had narrowed down names for a boy to either Colin, Connor, or Kevin, deciding to make up our mind once we actually saw our newborn child. We arrived at the hospital about 45 minutes prior to the 9:00 AM appointment for "delivery" - that's how excited we were - and checked in.
At a little after 9, I kissed my bride and she was wheeled away to the delivery room. I was left to wait, praying that all would go well. Since I knew I had a few minutes at least, I snuck outside and chain-smoked about 8 cigarettes in succession. Returning, I was advised that I was the father to a new, healthy, baby boy and that my wife was doing fine. Though it sounds trite now, I about jumped for joy. And, I silently said a prayer of thanks.
A few minutes later, while my wife was still recovering, I saw - and held - my beautiful baby boy for the first time. Though I had done this twice before with my other two children, nothing compares to the joy of meeting you newborn for the first time. Tears, of course, were shed, as I, again, was delighted with newest addition.
When my bride came to in her room a little while later, she too, was able to become acquainted with this little ball of wonder. He had a full head of hair, and dark eyebrows. We smiled, kissed each other, and him. Obviously, we had to examine our baby, checking for all his fingers, toes, and the like. He was beautiful, just like the others.
After a few minutes, the subject of a name came up. My wife said, "He looks like a Kevin" - something I had been thinking a few minutes earlier. So, our boy now had a name. Our third love affair began that day.
The days, months and years pass all too quickly, as parents throughout history can tell you. Today, our youngest progeny celebrates his 28th birthday.
Over the years, there have been so many wonderful moments - and as I said about my daughter, who just celebrated her birthday 2 days ago - the highlights of those years are too many to list here.
However, watching him grow into the fine young man he is today has certainly had it's impact on my life.
There are specific moments we've shared I'll never forget. Going with him & his mom to pick out his dog, a Golden Retriever he named Mercedes, and seeing the smile and love on his face. The weekend we spent together going first to Norman for an Sooner football game, then on to Dallas to watch the Cowboys play the Giants, spending the night at a hotel, was memorable, and a chance for us to re-bond. Picking him up from football practice at Kelley, when his Pads smelled so bad it stunk up the car and us laughing so hard, I could hardly drive. Taking him and his friends to OSU to register for classes for the first time; the Dad's days we spent together; Our Vegas trip celebrating his 21st birthday; seeing him fall in love; so many more.
He is a remarkable young man. An incredible sense of humor, plus a sensitivity unknown to most young men of his age.
Over the years, I have been blessed with many Surprise Christmas gifts, but he was absolutely the best.
Old Fart Mike
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
My Little Girl
On this day in 1974, my life changed for the better with the arrival of my beautiful 6 pound, 1 ounce baby girl. My wife and I, who had been married less than 4 years at the time, had decided to wait awhile to have children, and like most expectant parents at the time, didn't know exactly what life had in store for us with the arrival of a new baby.
When my bride first found out she was pregnant, she rushed to my office to tell me. Her excitement was so great that en route, she received a speeding ticket - probably the only one she has ever received. When she came into my office, she was flustered, so I got up and closed my door. She said, "I have something to tell you - we're gonna have a baby!" I got up and rushed to her and hugged and kissed her.
We did the things that were in fashion those days, including practicing the La Maze method of giving birth. We learned how to breathe properly, and I was to be her coach in the delivery room, helping her along the way. We read books about new babies and becoming parents. We bought furniture for the new baby, and friends had baby showers for my bride.
It was incredibly exciting and, at the same time, anxiety filled. The last six weeks or so seemed like they would never end as my wife expanded in size and we awaited the birth. We opted not to find out beforehand the sex of our baby, preferring to wait and be surprised, the old-fashioned way. I was secretly hoping for a girl since the female gender were a rarity in the Hughes clan, but, as with all parents-to-be, the overriding sentiment was simply for a healthy baby.
When the day finally came, a long labor ensued and, finally, the doctors determined that my bride and I needed to suspend our La Maze method in favor of some drugs for my wife to complete the birthing process. As I was then shuffled into a waiting room, I prayed long and hard that everything would be okay.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 15 or 20 minutes, a nurse appeared behind the glass partition with a tiny little baby wrapped in a blanket to show me. My heart was beating so fast it wasn't funny. I finally had to motion to her to unwrap that baby, after attempting to mouth the words, "What is it?" several times.
When she did expose the baby, I saw that I had a Daughter. Before I knew it, I realized I had tears streaming down my face.
A few minutes later the doctor said I could come see my daughter and my wife, both of whom were doing well. Since my bride was mostly knocked out, I had the privilege of holding my beautiful little daughter first. It was then I knew depths of love only a parent can know. It was then I knew that I would lay down my life for this little life that I helped create.
The years, of course, now seem to have gone by in a blur. She is married for almost 10 years and has a wonderful child of her own.
But, the memories I have of her throughout the years are vivid. Seeing her bundled up in a snow suit where she could hardly move. Having her come into the backyard with her little friend. Having her cry out with glee, "Daddy!!!" when she saw me walk in the door from work. Taking her to a father/daughter square dance. Sitting on my lap, cuddling and watching TV. Watching her competitiveness, as she swam on swim teams, and won so many events. Seeing her go out on dates. Watching her drive. Taking her off to college. Seeing her get her college degree - the first woman on either side of the family to do so. Falling in love. Walking her down the aisle. Having her tell her mom & I she was pregnant, and doing so in a way only she could do. Being there when she gave birth to our grandson.
There are so many more things I could say about this wonderful woman and the memories I have of and with her. She grew from a beautiful baby into a beautiful woman. But, to me, she will always be My Little Girl.
Old Fart Mike
When my bride first found out she was pregnant, she rushed to my office to tell me. Her excitement was so great that en route, she received a speeding ticket - probably the only one she has ever received. When she came into my office, she was flustered, so I got up and closed my door. She said, "I have something to tell you - we're gonna have a baby!" I got up and rushed to her and hugged and kissed her.
We did the things that were in fashion those days, including practicing the La Maze method of giving birth. We learned how to breathe properly, and I was to be her coach in the delivery room, helping her along the way. We read books about new babies and becoming parents. We bought furniture for the new baby, and friends had baby showers for my bride.
It was incredibly exciting and, at the same time, anxiety filled. The last six weeks or so seemed like they would never end as my wife expanded in size and we awaited the birth. We opted not to find out beforehand the sex of our baby, preferring to wait and be surprised, the old-fashioned way. I was secretly hoping for a girl since the female gender were a rarity in the Hughes clan, but, as with all parents-to-be, the overriding sentiment was simply for a healthy baby.
When the day finally came, a long labor ensued and, finally, the doctors determined that my bride and I needed to suspend our La Maze method in favor of some drugs for my wife to complete the birthing process. As I was then shuffled into a waiting room, I prayed long and hard that everything would be okay.
After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only 15 or 20 minutes, a nurse appeared behind the glass partition with a tiny little baby wrapped in a blanket to show me. My heart was beating so fast it wasn't funny. I finally had to motion to her to unwrap that baby, after attempting to mouth the words, "What is it?" several times.
When she did expose the baby, I saw that I had a Daughter. Before I knew it, I realized I had tears streaming down my face.
A few minutes later the doctor said I could come see my daughter and my wife, both of whom were doing well. Since my bride was mostly knocked out, I had the privilege of holding my beautiful little daughter first. It was then I knew depths of love only a parent can know. It was then I knew that I would lay down my life for this little life that I helped create.
The years, of course, now seem to have gone by in a blur. She is married for almost 10 years and has a wonderful child of her own.
But, the memories I have of her throughout the years are vivid. Seeing her bundled up in a snow suit where she could hardly move. Having her come into the backyard with her little friend. Having her cry out with glee, "Daddy!!!" when she saw me walk in the door from work. Taking her to a father/daughter square dance. Sitting on my lap, cuddling and watching TV. Watching her competitiveness, as she swam on swim teams, and won so many events. Seeing her go out on dates. Watching her drive. Taking her off to college. Seeing her get her college degree - the first woman on either side of the family to do so. Falling in love. Walking her down the aisle. Having her tell her mom & I she was pregnant, and doing so in a way only she could do. Being there when she gave birth to our grandson.
There are so many more things I could say about this wonderful woman and the memories I have of and with her. She grew from a beautiful baby into a beautiful woman. But, to me, she will always be My Little Girl.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, November 26, 2010
The day after -
Yesterday, of course, was Thanksgiving Day. It is the time, once each year, where we Americans stop - or at least are supposed to - and give thanks for our many blessings. According to most, it began in the early 1600's, as Pilgrims began the practice of celebrating a Harvest festival as was customary in Europe at the time.
Over the years since, Thanksgiving Day has morphed into what it is today, a National Day of thanks for our many blessings - and on the lesser side of things, a day to stuff ourselves with Turkey and the many accompanying foods that make up our feast of the day; watch football; and prepare for the onslaught of "Black Friday", the horrendous start of Christmas gift buying.
As I awoke today, I thought of just how fortunate I - and my family are. Though none of us are wealthy, we live rather comfortably compared to the majority of the world. Yet, like most, I find myself complaining almost daily about some little thing or another. Today, it was about how cold it was outside when I walked down my driveway to get the morning newspaper. I temporarily forgot that I had this rather large home I lived in that sheltered me from the cold outside - a cold that many of our homeless had to face last night without any type of roof over their head.
I also didn't give a second thought to the fact that all I had to do was press a button and my garage door opened magically, thereby enabling me to avoid lifting that incredibly hefty door physically AND cutting the distance I had to walk to & from the paper in the driveway in half.
Nor did I think of the blessing I have in being able to afford to subscribe to the daily newspaper - instead of having to find a days-old one. Or, the fact, that I could read at all - something that many in the world can't do.
As the morning progressed a bit, I became upset when my wife told me her car wouldn't start as the battery was dead - she'd have to use mine. Not for a second did I give thanks that we had two cars which enabled her to not miss her appointment.
All I described occurred in a relatively short period of time this morning and I'm sure there will be other things that transpire throughout the day that I forget to recognize, or give thanks for. Just as there will be tomorrow and the 364 days until next Thanksgiving Day.
It will also happen to all who read this.
I suppose it is human nature to complain when something doesn't meet our satisfaction, but should we reserve our gratitude for only one day a year? We all know the answer to this question. We just don't practice it.
Old Fart Mike
Over the years since, Thanksgiving Day has morphed into what it is today, a National Day of thanks for our many blessings - and on the lesser side of things, a day to stuff ourselves with Turkey and the many accompanying foods that make up our feast of the day; watch football; and prepare for the onslaught of "Black Friday", the horrendous start of Christmas gift buying.
As I awoke today, I thought of just how fortunate I - and my family are. Though none of us are wealthy, we live rather comfortably compared to the majority of the world. Yet, like most, I find myself complaining almost daily about some little thing or another. Today, it was about how cold it was outside when I walked down my driveway to get the morning newspaper. I temporarily forgot that I had this rather large home I lived in that sheltered me from the cold outside - a cold that many of our homeless had to face last night without any type of roof over their head.
I also didn't give a second thought to the fact that all I had to do was press a button and my garage door opened magically, thereby enabling me to avoid lifting that incredibly hefty door physically AND cutting the distance I had to walk to & from the paper in the driveway in half.
Nor did I think of the blessing I have in being able to afford to subscribe to the daily newspaper - instead of having to find a days-old one. Or, the fact, that I could read at all - something that many in the world can't do.
As the morning progressed a bit, I became upset when my wife told me her car wouldn't start as the battery was dead - she'd have to use mine. Not for a second did I give thanks that we had two cars which enabled her to not miss her appointment.
All I described occurred in a relatively short period of time this morning and I'm sure there will be other things that transpire throughout the day that I forget to recognize, or give thanks for. Just as there will be tomorrow and the 364 days until next Thanksgiving Day.
It will also happen to all who read this.
I suppose it is human nature to complain when something doesn't meet our satisfaction, but should we reserve our gratitude for only one day a year? We all know the answer to this question. We just don't practice it.
Old Fart Mike
Monday, November 22, 2010
November 22nd
"...all of us... will bear the grief of his death until the day of ours." - Adlai Stevenson
On November 22nd, 1963, the unthinkable happened. The President of the United States, a young, handsome, and witty man, with a beautiful wife, and two young children was assassinated. His name, of course, was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was the first Irish Catholic President ever elected to the highest office in the land.
I was a Senior in high school at the time when our principal, through the P.A. system announced that he had been shot. He then left the radio on so that all of the faculty and students could hear. It was early in Southern California where I grew up - and when the broadcaster announced that our President had died, at approximately 11:00 AM PST, everyone was simply stunned. We looked around at each other but none of us spoke.
Some of us, like myself, who idolized President Kennedy, were heartbroken. Word quickly was passed that an all-school assembly would take place shortly. I don't remember how much time elapsed until the entire student body, along with all members of the faculty assembled in our gym, but it was a grim and silent affair. The thing that stood out in my mind then - and still does now - was when one of our teachers, Mr. Lanzarotta, recited the Walt Whitman poem, "O Captain, My captain". Many in the assembled crowd couldn't help but sob. Others like myself, somehow held back the tears - until later.
We were released from school shortly afterward. But it was not with the glee that would usually follow an early dismissal from school. There was absolutely nothing to be happy about.
I arrived home to find a tearful grandmother with the Television on. Both my mom and dad arrived home at their normal times from work. They, likewise, were very upset, fighting back the tears. For one of the very few times I can ever remember, we ate while in front of the TV - a practice not ever condoned in our household. We spent most of our next three days in front of that television. Mealtimes too.
My family was an Irish Catholic one - just like JFK. So that was one of the reasons why I idolized him. I've often told people that, aside from family pictures and Jesus, Kennedy's was the only other person whose picture adorned the walls of my family home. The other reasons I suppose were many. He was the first President I ever really paid any attention to. I imagine that was because of my age - nearing adulthood. Also, because of his relative youth in comparison to the man he was replacing (Eisenhower). Other attributes that appealed to me were his incredible wit and beautiful wife and family.
He inspired many in my generation and his death - at least to me - was the beginning of the end of innocence. Only a few short years later, I volunteered for his brother, Bobby, who was running for President. His assassination was the final blow to my innocence.
The Kennedy brothers offered so much hope to us all back then. Yet today, 47 years later, JFK's assassination seems to merit only brief mentions in the newspapers. It doesn't seem to be as important as Justin Bieber winning awards at last nights American Music Awards show.
I suppose that is how life - and, eventually death - goes. But, for those of us who were around in those days, we will never forget where we were when we heard the news of the assassination of JFK.
Old Fart Mike
On November 22nd, 1963, the unthinkable happened. The President of the United States, a young, handsome, and witty man, with a beautiful wife, and two young children was assassinated. His name, of course, was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was the first Irish Catholic President ever elected to the highest office in the land.
I was a Senior in high school at the time when our principal, through the P.A. system announced that he had been shot. He then left the radio on so that all of the faculty and students could hear. It was early in Southern California where I grew up - and when the broadcaster announced that our President had died, at approximately 11:00 AM PST, everyone was simply stunned. We looked around at each other but none of us spoke.
Some of us, like myself, who idolized President Kennedy, were heartbroken. Word quickly was passed that an all-school assembly would take place shortly. I don't remember how much time elapsed until the entire student body, along with all members of the faculty assembled in our gym, but it was a grim and silent affair. The thing that stood out in my mind then - and still does now - was when one of our teachers, Mr. Lanzarotta, recited the Walt Whitman poem, "O Captain, My captain". Many in the assembled crowd couldn't help but sob. Others like myself, somehow held back the tears - until later.
We were released from school shortly afterward. But it was not with the glee that would usually follow an early dismissal from school. There was absolutely nothing to be happy about.
I arrived home to find a tearful grandmother with the Television on. Both my mom and dad arrived home at their normal times from work. They, likewise, were very upset, fighting back the tears. For one of the very few times I can ever remember, we ate while in front of the TV - a practice not ever condoned in our household. We spent most of our next three days in front of that television. Mealtimes too.
My family was an Irish Catholic one - just like JFK. So that was one of the reasons why I idolized him. I've often told people that, aside from family pictures and Jesus, Kennedy's was the only other person whose picture adorned the walls of my family home. The other reasons I suppose were many. He was the first President I ever really paid any attention to. I imagine that was because of my age - nearing adulthood. Also, because of his relative youth in comparison to the man he was replacing (Eisenhower). Other attributes that appealed to me were his incredible wit and beautiful wife and family.
He inspired many in my generation and his death - at least to me - was the beginning of the end of innocence. Only a few short years later, I volunteered for his brother, Bobby, who was running for President. His assassination was the final blow to my innocence.
The Kennedy brothers offered so much hope to us all back then. Yet today, 47 years later, JFK's assassination seems to merit only brief mentions in the newspapers. It doesn't seem to be as important as Justin Bieber winning awards at last nights American Music Awards show.
I suppose that is how life - and, eventually death - goes. But, for those of us who were around in those days, we will never forget where we were when we heard the news of the assassination of JFK.
Old Fart Mike
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Veterans Day
Yesterday, was the 235th birthday of the Marine Corps - and Today, of course, is Veterans Day. I happen to have T-shirts that my bride found for me bearing the Bulldog mascot and the USMC logo on it. I wore yesterday and am doing so again today.
Though I was fortunate enough not to have been shipped overseas to Viet Nam during my stint in the Corps, I knew many, many Marines who did go. Some didn't come back, and some did - though they came back changed - either physically, or mentally.
My dad was also a Marine. Unlike me, he enlisted in the Corps a month after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He was almost 31 years old at the time; married; and, a father of two sons. He didn't have to enlist, yet felt it his patriotic duty, despite leaving his wife and two boys at home in Chicago to fend for themselves. At his age, he was called "Pops" in boot camp, because most of the rest of the recruits were at least 10 years younger than him.
My dad, after boot camp, fought in the Pacific. If you watched any of the recent HBO series "The Pacific", they spoke of the 5th Marines from time to time. That is the unit my father served in. He fought on Iwo Jima, Tinian, and Saipan and probably some other islands, both those are all either my brothers or I can remember.
My dad returned home finally sometime in 1945, the year before I was born. He was the victim of "Shell-Shock" or what they call today Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). According to what my brothers have told me, he spent several months in a military hospital in San Diego before they allowed him to come home to his family. They recall that he was indeed a different man upon arrival home. Shaking almost uncontrollably and nervous as hell, he would drop to the ground upon hearing a loud noise. His sleep and that of the family was interrupted virtually nightly by his screaming and crying. It took a while - don't know how long - for doctors to get this under control. Fortunately, by the time I was born and old enough to know anything, this by-product of too many battles had ceased.
However, like so many veterans of combat, he would never discuss much about it. About all I could get out of him was where he had fought and that it was awful. Though we lived in California from 1954 until he died in 1979, he would never even take my mom to Hawaii. He steadfastly refused, saying, "I've had enough of islands to last me the rest of my life."
The last couple of days I've been reflecting on Veterans, Wars, the Marines, and related things, so this one really hit home. My Dad's birthday was just a couple weeks ago too - October 23rd. Had he lived, he would've been 100, as we was born in 1910.
My time in the Corps was - after Boot Camp - just like having a poor-paying job. I lived on base at El Toro in Santa Ana, California - a mere 30 miles or so from my parents home. Had my own car and actually only had to stay on base one out of every four nights and one out of every four weekends, so, when I had something going - a date, a party, etc. - I just got in my car and took off. It was simply a minor inconvenience. However, the Unit I was with was a Helicopter Training Group.
What this meant to me was that my fellow Marines were either rookies, like me, or returned veterans from Viet Nam. The purpose of our Unit was to train the rookies to go over to Viet Nam. So, I had interaction with both. We lived in a barracks that was divided off into cubicles with 4 beds. In my particular cubicle I had 2 returned Vets and another rookie. In the cubicle directly across from us were 3 rookies and 1 vet. I was close friends with all of these guys. We were like brothers. 2 of the Vets had PTSD, including one in my cube, and I will never forget the night I took him to a party of my friends from work in L.A. He had flashbacks and refought the war for a long time, until I and a guy I used to work with brought him down and restrained him. Obviously, it ruined the night for him and the 30 or so Civilians that were there. He was a war hero too, which makes it even worse. He had received a Bronze Star for his heroic efforts during his tour in Viet Nam.
Two of the guys - the rookies - went to Nam, and never returned. One was a helicopter gunner (I was trained for this too, as a back-up - which they did to all the Clerk-typists, since these guys were getting killed so quickly), and the other was simply a "Grunt" or infantryman. One of the Vets went back for a 2nd tour and was KIA. Another of the "rookies" came back missing a leg, and at least one has PTSD. Don't know what happened to the others.
So many of the other guys I served with were so messed up after their combat tour, it wasn't funny.
I also remember one day, I was in uniform in downtown L.A., going to my former place of employment to visit my friends, and while crossing the street, having someone spit at me and yell out "Baby Killer!!"
The sad part of it all is that while I feel so blessed that I didn't have to go fight in Viet Nam, I've always felt a little guilty too. So many of my friends went and I, somehow, avoided it. So, while I served and am "Technically" a veteran, I never had to pay the price by fighting overseas in a war. I think about this from time to time, counting my blessings while fighting my guilt.
Though I was fortunate enough not to have been shipped overseas to Viet Nam during my stint in the Corps, I knew many, many Marines who did go. Some didn't come back, and some did - though they came back changed - either physically, or mentally.
My dad was also a Marine. Unlike me, he enlisted in the Corps a month after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He was almost 31 years old at the time; married; and, a father of two sons. He didn't have to enlist, yet felt it his patriotic duty, despite leaving his wife and two boys at home in Chicago to fend for themselves. At his age, he was called "Pops" in boot camp, because most of the rest of the recruits were at least 10 years younger than him.
My dad, after boot camp, fought in the Pacific. If you watched any of the recent HBO series "The Pacific", they spoke of the 5th Marines from time to time. That is the unit my father served in. He fought on Iwo Jima, Tinian, and Saipan and probably some other islands, both those are all either my brothers or I can remember.
My dad returned home finally sometime in 1945, the year before I was born. He was the victim of "Shell-Shock" or what they call today Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). According to what my brothers have told me, he spent several months in a military hospital in San Diego before they allowed him to come home to his family. They recall that he was indeed a different man upon arrival home. Shaking almost uncontrollably and nervous as hell, he would drop to the ground upon hearing a loud noise. His sleep and that of the family was interrupted virtually nightly by his screaming and crying. It took a while - don't know how long - for doctors to get this under control. Fortunately, by the time I was born and old enough to know anything, this by-product of too many battles had ceased.
However, like so many veterans of combat, he would never discuss much about it. About all I could get out of him was where he had fought and that it was awful. Though we lived in California from 1954 until he died in 1979, he would never even take my mom to Hawaii. He steadfastly refused, saying, "I've had enough of islands to last me the rest of my life."
The last couple of days I've been reflecting on Veterans, Wars, the Marines, and related things, so this one really hit home. My Dad's birthday was just a couple weeks ago too - October 23rd. Had he lived, he would've been 100, as we was born in 1910.
My time in the Corps was - after Boot Camp - just like having a poor-paying job. I lived on base at El Toro in Santa Ana, California - a mere 30 miles or so from my parents home. Had my own car and actually only had to stay on base one out of every four nights and one out of every four weekends, so, when I had something going - a date, a party, etc. - I just got in my car and took off. It was simply a minor inconvenience. However, the Unit I was with was a Helicopter Training Group.
What this meant to me was that my fellow Marines were either rookies, like me, or returned veterans from Viet Nam. The purpose of our Unit was to train the rookies to go over to Viet Nam. So, I had interaction with both. We lived in a barracks that was divided off into cubicles with 4 beds. In my particular cubicle I had 2 returned Vets and another rookie. In the cubicle directly across from us were 3 rookies and 1 vet. I was close friends with all of these guys. We were like brothers. 2 of the Vets had PTSD, including one in my cube, and I will never forget the night I took him to a party of my friends from work in L.A. He had flashbacks and refought the war for a long time, until I and a guy I used to work with brought him down and restrained him. Obviously, it ruined the night for him and the 30 or so Civilians that were there. He was a war hero too, which makes it even worse. He had received a Bronze Star for his heroic efforts during his tour in Viet Nam.
Two of the guys - the rookies - went to Nam, and never returned. One was a helicopter gunner (I was trained for this too, as a back-up - which they did to all the Clerk-typists, since these guys were getting killed so quickly), and the other was simply a "Grunt" or infantryman. One of the Vets went back for a 2nd tour and was KIA. Another of the "rookies" came back missing a leg, and at least one has PTSD. Don't know what happened to the others.
So many of the other guys I served with were so messed up after their combat tour, it wasn't funny.
I also remember one day, I was in uniform in downtown L.A., going to my former place of employment to visit my friends, and while crossing the street, having someone spit at me and yell out "Baby Killer!!"
The sad part of it all is that while I feel so blessed that I didn't have to go fight in Viet Nam, I've always felt a little guilty too. So many of my friends went and I, somehow, avoided it. So, while I served and am "Technically" a veteran, I never had to pay the price by fighting overseas in a war. I think about this from time to time, counting my blessings while fighting my guilt.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Election
So yesterday marked the mid-term elections of 2010. As predicted by just about everyone - Republicans, Democrats, Tea-partiers, pundits, et al., the Republicans took back the House of Representatives, but narrowly missed out on recapturing the Senate. It was a landslide of sorts.
Here in the reddest of red states we became even redder. Virtually every state office is now held by Republicans from Governor to assessor. And the lowest majority was for the Governors race where the Republican candidate won by a mere 60-40 percentage. Take that you evil liberals/progressives/democrats!!
On the National scene, numerous Tea Party candidates won, but fortunately, we were spared by not having the wackiest of the wacky winning. The Witchcraft girl from Delaware who was unaware of the provisions of the First amendment lost, as did Sharon Anngle in Nevada. Those two would've had some trouble explaining their votes to people in the Senate, let alone their constituents.
Now, of course, it appears Mr. Man Tan will become Speaker of the House replacing Nancy Pelosi, the most hated of all Democrats by the Republicans (well, maybe not, after all there is a President named Barrack HUSSEIN Obama, and a Senate Majority leader named Harry Reid).
The question on my mind today is how the Republicans will view this election. Will they see it as a mandate for Republican Policy defeated so soundly just 2 years ago? Will they see it as a repudiation of Barrack Obama? If so, I suspect they will govern badly.
My belief is that this election was more about people being fed up with gridlock. I think our fellow citizens would simply like the two parties to finally quit spending so much time fighting each other and for once, put their energies together and do something jointly FOR the citizens of their country. Helluva concept, isn't it?
That was how Obama was elected - Hope and Change. And I think he really tried. But when the opposing party takes a position of "Just say no" to each and every thing that he proposes, "Hope" quickly fades, as does the ability to change. The biggest fault I see with Obama is he lost his ability - for whatever reason - to communicate to the American people after he became President.
The Republicans, on the other hand, have mastered the art of Public Relations and marketing. How else can you explain the fact that lower middle class people have bought into supporting tax cuts for the top 1% of income earners while their own earnings have dropped over the past decade? How else can you justify that this same class of citizens generally don't support financial reform? Or, while their health benefits are being cut, or eliminated by the corporations they work for (if they still have a job) they've been convinced that the health care reform that was passed is bad? Better yet, how can they believe that tax cuts for corporations - the same ones that send jobs overseas to save payroll - is a good thing?
And, of course, then there is the rising of the Tea Party. This has come about - supposedly - because of the TARP and stimulus programs enacted by W. and Obama in an effort to save a world wide collapse of the economy. According to the top economists, these programs averted TOTAL collapse. Had they NOT done so, a depression would have occurred that would have made the first Great depression look like childs play.
The Tea Party people claim they want to take their country back. From Whom? Do they have a clue about anything except raw anger? They don't want to pay taxes. OK, I understand that, but what about the services they get from the taxes that are paid? They are sure quick to support a strong defense. Do they really want to eliminate Social Security? Medicare? Gimme a break. Think before you speak. Slogans are nice, but don't vote for people based on them.
Well, I'm starting to just rant now, so I better end. But Okay, Republicans, the ball is back in your court after a VERY short absence. Though you didn't do very good with it when you had it, now it's your turn again.
Old Fart Mike
Here in the reddest of red states we became even redder. Virtually every state office is now held by Republicans from Governor to assessor. And the lowest majority was for the Governors race where the Republican candidate won by a mere 60-40 percentage. Take that you evil liberals/progressives/democrats!!
On the National scene, numerous Tea Party candidates won, but fortunately, we were spared by not having the wackiest of the wacky winning. The Witchcraft girl from Delaware who was unaware of the provisions of the First amendment lost, as did Sharon Anngle in Nevada. Those two would've had some trouble explaining their votes to people in the Senate, let alone their constituents.
Now, of course, it appears Mr. Man Tan will become Speaker of the House replacing Nancy Pelosi, the most hated of all Democrats by the Republicans (well, maybe not, after all there is a President named Barrack HUSSEIN Obama, and a Senate Majority leader named Harry Reid).
The question on my mind today is how the Republicans will view this election. Will they see it as a mandate for Republican Policy defeated so soundly just 2 years ago? Will they see it as a repudiation of Barrack Obama? If so, I suspect they will govern badly.
My belief is that this election was more about people being fed up with gridlock. I think our fellow citizens would simply like the two parties to finally quit spending so much time fighting each other and for once, put their energies together and do something jointly FOR the citizens of their country. Helluva concept, isn't it?
That was how Obama was elected - Hope and Change. And I think he really tried. But when the opposing party takes a position of "Just say no" to each and every thing that he proposes, "Hope" quickly fades, as does the ability to change. The biggest fault I see with Obama is he lost his ability - for whatever reason - to communicate to the American people after he became President.
The Republicans, on the other hand, have mastered the art of Public Relations and marketing. How else can you explain the fact that lower middle class people have bought into supporting tax cuts for the top 1% of income earners while their own earnings have dropped over the past decade? How else can you justify that this same class of citizens generally don't support financial reform? Or, while their health benefits are being cut, or eliminated by the corporations they work for (if they still have a job) they've been convinced that the health care reform that was passed is bad? Better yet, how can they believe that tax cuts for corporations - the same ones that send jobs overseas to save payroll - is a good thing?
And, of course, then there is the rising of the Tea Party. This has come about - supposedly - because of the TARP and stimulus programs enacted by W. and Obama in an effort to save a world wide collapse of the economy. According to the top economists, these programs averted TOTAL collapse. Had they NOT done so, a depression would have occurred that would have made the first Great depression look like childs play.
The Tea Party people claim they want to take their country back. From Whom? Do they have a clue about anything except raw anger? They don't want to pay taxes. OK, I understand that, but what about the services they get from the taxes that are paid? They are sure quick to support a strong defense. Do they really want to eliminate Social Security? Medicare? Gimme a break. Think before you speak. Slogans are nice, but don't vote for people based on them.
Well, I'm starting to just rant now, so I better end. But Okay, Republicans, the ball is back in your court after a VERY short absence. Though you didn't do very good with it when you had it, now it's your turn again.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, September 24, 2010
How quickly time passes
When I was a teenager, living in California with my parents, I remember many of my folks' friends visiting them. We had moved to California from Chicago in 1954, just a few months prior to my 8th birthday. My parents, and their parents before them had been native Chicagoans.
The move to sunny Southern California brought many visitors to my parents home. Obviously relatives, some of whom moved to California after they saw just how beautiful it was in those days, and, as I said earlier, friends of my mom and dad.
On one such occasion, I remember sitting at the kitchen table, where all good friends seem to congregate even to this day, and listening to my parents chat with their visiting friends. At one point, my dad looked over at me and said, "We've known each other since we were little boys - almost 50 years.". I know my mouth must have dropped open and my eyes rolled. When you're but 16 or 17 years old, you simply cannot fathom knowing anyone for that long of a time.
Now, however, in just a few days, I will be leaving to fly out west to attend a reunion of my high school graduating class. We arranged this gathering a few years ago. We were the Class of 1964 - and thought it would be a good idea to celebrate our collective 64th birthdays together, at a reunion. It won't be the first time we've gotten together in recent years. In 2004 we celebrated the 40th anniversary of our graduating. In 2006, we had had so much fun in 2004, we got together to celebrate turning 60 years old.
Our high school class began together in 1960, so we've all known each other at least since then - 50 years! Many of us have known each other even longer. In fact, there are several of my neighbors who will be at the reunion. One, in fact, that lived two doors down from me, and moved into their house around the same time my parents moved into ours. Over 56 years all told.
Back in those simpler days, we played on our street - games like Mother May I? Tag, you're it; Red Rover, come over, and the like. One or more of our parents watched over us - even as we played into the darkened night. If someone misbehaved, a parent - didn't matter whose - corrected the erring child. We felt no fear in walking several blocks and even miles away, or going to a park by ourselves, looking for someone to play with. Can't do any of that today unfortunately.
The times have changed of course. Most of our parents are gone and now we are the ones who are telling our own children and grandchildren about friends we've known for 50 years. And, just as I did, so long ago, the younger people's mouths drop open and eyes roll, not comprehending how quickly time passes. Nor understanding that their own time will come.
The move to sunny Southern California brought many visitors to my parents home. Obviously relatives, some of whom moved to California after they saw just how beautiful it was in those days, and, as I said earlier, friends of my mom and dad.
On one such occasion, I remember sitting at the kitchen table, where all good friends seem to congregate even to this day, and listening to my parents chat with their visiting friends. At one point, my dad looked over at me and said, "We've known each other since we were little boys - almost 50 years.". I know my mouth must have dropped open and my eyes rolled. When you're but 16 or 17 years old, you simply cannot fathom knowing anyone for that long of a time.
Now, however, in just a few days, I will be leaving to fly out west to attend a reunion of my high school graduating class. We arranged this gathering a few years ago. We were the Class of 1964 - and thought it would be a good idea to celebrate our collective 64th birthdays together, at a reunion. It won't be the first time we've gotten together in recent years. In 2004 we celebrated the 40th anniversary of our graduating. In 2006, we had had so much fun in 2004, we got together to celebrate turning 60 years old.
Our high school class began together in 1960, so we've all known each other at least since then - 50 years! Many of us have known each other even longer. In fact, there are several of my neighbors who will be at the reunion. One, in fact, that lived two doors down from me, and moved into their house around the same time my parents moved into ours. Over 56 years all told.
Back in those simpler days, we played on our street - games like Mother May I? Tag, you're it; Red Rover, come over, and the like. One or more of our parents watched over us - even as we played into the darkened night. If someone misbehaved, a parent - didn't matter whose - corrected the erring child. We felt no fear in walking several blocks and even miles away, or going to a park by ourselves, looking for someone to play with. Can't do any of that today unfortunately.
The times have changed of course. Most of our parents are gone and now we are the ones who are telling our own children and grandchildren about friends we've known for 50 years. And, just as I did, so long ago, the younger people's mouths drop open and eyes roll, not comprehending how quickly time passes. Nor understanding that their own time will come.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Hate & Fear, Redux
Here we go again. This time it's another idiot small-time preacher with a flock of about 50 souls in Florida. He is going to burn copies of the Koran - the Muslims equivalent of the Christians Bible. His name is Terry Jones, and he is the Pastor of the "Dove World Outreach Center".
Good Grief, what incredible irony. The only other Terry Jones I've ever heard of is the Terry Jones who is a member of Monty Python, the absurd British comedy group known for mocking any and every thing, and, in the process, creating some incredibly funny moments to those of us with sick, twisted minds - like yours truly.
Unfortunately, This Terry Jones is about to do something that is not, in any way, shape, or form, about to do something that is "funny". Instead, of course, he is behaving badly - though a case could be made for his "sick, twisted mind".
The name of his church too, is certainly ironic. The Dove is universally known as a symbol of peace, love, and faith. Pastor Jones' upcoming actions on September 11th, certainly betray any semblance of the usage of the word Dove, and it's universally accepted and recognized meaning.
World Outreach comes next in the Church's name. Under any circumstance can his burning of the Koran planned for this Saturday be construed as an "Outreach" to the world? To me, the outreach is only to those folks who have succumbed to the hate, fear, and loathing that seem to grip those among us to have no tolerance for anything different than their own beliefs. Unfortunately, during the last two decades, that group has been both festering and growing.
This man - this Terry Jones - proceeds to do this inexcusable act despite urgings from our Military leaders warning of potential grave consequences for our men and women in battle; despite the leaders of virtually every known religion condemning his proposed actions; and despite, I think, what the majority of Americans feel.
He proudly keeps a gun with him to ward off the daily threats he is receiving on his life for the action he is about to perform, and he apparently is enjoying the spotlight of the continuous coverage of newspapers and television stations.
All the while he claims to be praying about it. I would have to question exactly who he is praying to.
Old Fart Mike
Good Grief, what incredible irony. The only other Terry Jones I've ever heard of is the Terry Jones who is a member of Monty Python, the absurd British comedy group known for mocking any and every thing, and, in the process, creating some incredibly funny moments to those of us with sick, twisted minds - like yours truly.
Unfortunately, This Terry Jones is about to do something that is not, in any way, shape, or form, about to do something that is "funny". Instead, of course, he is behaving badly - though a case could be made for his "sick, twisted mind".
The name of his church too, is certainly ironic. The Dove is universally known as a symbol of peace, love, and faith. Pastor Jones' upcoming actions on September 11th, certainly betray any semblance of the usage of the word Dove, and it's universally accepted and recognized meaning.
World Outreach comes next in the Church's name. Under any circumstance can his burning of the Koran planned for this Saturday be construed as an "Outreach" to the world? To me, the outreach is only to those folks who have succumbed to the hate, fear, and loathing that seem to grip those among us to have no tolerance for anything different than their own beliefs. Unfortunately, during the last two decades, that group has been both festering and growing.
This man - this Terry Jones - proceeds to do this inexcusable act despite urgings from our Military leaders warning of potential grave consequences for our men and women in battle; despite the leaders of virtually every known religion condemning his proposed actions; and despite, I think, what the majority of Americans feel.
He proudly keeps a gun with him to ward off the daily threats he is receiving on his life for the action he is about to perform, and he apparently is enjoying the spotlight of the continuous coverage of newspapers and television stations.
All the while he claims to be praying about it. I would have to question exactly who he is praying to.
Old Fart Mike
Monday, September 6, 2010
Labor Day
Isn't it interesting that we are in the midst of celebrating a weekend dedicated to America's labor force - the very people who worked so hard to build our country? I say this because it seems everything appears to be slanted in "management's" way these days, particularly the big corporate businesses, their CEO's and stockholders.
As we think about this particular holiday - if we give it any thought at all - it was initiated by Labor, or here comes what now is a nasty word - UNION - leaders. These folks fought for the working man and woman at a time when wages, work hours,and working conditions were terrible. Without unions, who knows what the normal work week might have been. 60 hours instead of 40? Minimum wage might never have existed. 7 day work weeks might have been the norm. We'll never know because these men forced the situation with greedy company owners on behalf of the working stiff.
Nowadays, of course, everybody, except union members themselves, seem to be anti-union. They feel that the union worker is paid too much, and their benefits are ridiculously high. But, with union membership dropping, and big business shipping jobs overseas by the hundreds of thousands, real wages have actually dropped for the middle class worker over the past 20 years. So have the benefits offered to them by the companies they work for.
Candidates from the right claim they've never been offered a job by someone who wasn't rich. While that may be true, the offers are dwindling at the same time the company's profits are swelling. It seems to me that the normal working person would reject the premise that is being proposed about giving tax breaks to the richest among us - both individuals and corporations. But, then again, I don't buy into the stuff being force-fed on Fox news.
One thing I do know though - it's doubtful we'll ever see a three-day weekend celebrated called "Corporate Day Weekend". Then again, if the Republicans get their way, sweeping both houses of Congress - and eventually the White House again, I suppose it could happen.
Old Fart Mike
As we think about this particular holiday - if we give it any thought at all - it was initiated by Labor, or here comes what now is a nasty word - UNION - leaders. These folks fought for the working man and woman at a time when wages, work hours,and working conditions were terrible. Without unions, who knows what the normal work week might have been. 60 hours instead of 40? Minimum wage might never have existed. 7 day work weeks might have been the norm. We'll never know because these men forced the situation with greedy company owners on behalf of the working stiff.
Nowadays, of course, everybody, except union members themselves, seem to be anti-union. They feel that the union worker is paid too much, and their benefits are ridiculously high. But, with union membership dropping, and big business shipping jobs overseas by the hundreds of thousands, real wages have actually dropped for the middle class worker over the past 20 years. So have the benefits offered to them by the companies they work for.
Candidates from the right claim they've never been offered a job by someone who wasn't rich. While that may be true, the offers are dwindling at the same time the company's profits are swelling. It seems to me that the normal working person would reject the premise that is being proposed about giving tax breaks to the richest among us - both individuals and corporations. But, then again, I don't buy into the stuff being force-fed on Fox news.
One thing I do know though - it's doubtful we'll ever see a three-day weekend celebrated called "Corporate Day Weekend". Then again, if the Republicans get their way, sweeping both houses of Congress - and eventually the White House again, I suppose it could happen.
Old Fart Mike
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
The worry of being a parent
Unless you have children, there is no way to ever know the depths of love - or the worry - you have for your offspring. As a first-time parent, I remember distinctly my wife and I checking on our daughter one night when she was only a few weeks old. She was in her basinette, and hadn't made a sound for over two hours. That was unusual for a newborn, so we were worried that something might be the matter. We crept into her room and checked to see if she was breathing. In the process, of course, we ended up waking her.
With each of our kids, as they experienced their first scape, cut, high fever, or other injury or illness, we went through various stages of concern. Same thing held for any of the angst they would experience in the normalcy of growing up. A bad grade. Not being able to play on the starting team. Getting a zit right before the big dance. Comforting them after a particularly bad break-up. Worrying with them as to whether they would get admitted into the college of their choice. And then worrying whether they'd actually make it through college and get that degree.
Then comes the day when their schooling is finished and they set out on their own. They find a job and an apartment. This is when people who do not have children erroneously think that a parent's job is done. That the parent's days of worrying are behind them. I admit I once thought this too. Boy, was I wrong.
I think back now about my own parents and remember a couple of events that should have prepared me for being the parent of adult children and the continued worry that comes with it. The first occasion was shortly before my dad died. My wife and I, along with our two oldest kids, one a toddler, the other only 6 months old, visited my parents. While we were there, my dad pulled me aside and asked me how I was doing, and If I was happy in life. I was taken aback by these questions, which were asked so seriously, but told my dad that I was doing good, and my life was indeed a happy one. I then asked why he asked. He simply said I was his son and he would always worry about me. I didn't give it much thought until many years later.
The second instance came many years after the first, long after my dad was gone. My mother, one day while I was visiting her, asked me similar questions. Of course, I assured her that my life was good, but I was curious why she asked these questions. She replied that a parent always worried about their children. At the time, my mother was 79. I was 44. Two of my children were teens; the other a pre-teen. So, of course I worried about them. However, I still wrongly thought that when they were "grown and gone", my worries would end.
The joys you have in watching a beautiful helpless baby grow into strong, caring, independent adults certainly outweigh the worry you will always carry with you about their well-being. But now, at nearly 64 - and my adult children at 35, 31, and 28 - I understand why my parents asked me those questions so many years ago. Being a parent is, after all, a lifetime commitment.
Old Fart Mike
With each of our kids, as they experienced their first scape, cut, high fever, or other injury or illness, we went through various stages of concern. Same thing held for any of the angst they would experience in the normalcy of growing up. A bad grade. Not being able to play on the starting team. Getting a zit right before the big dance. Comforting them after a particularly bad break-up. Worrying with them as to whether they would get admitted into the college of their choice. And then worrying whether they'd actually make it through college and get that degree.
Then comes the day when their schooling is finished and they set out on their own. They find a job and an apartment. This is when people who do not have children erroneously think that a parent's job is done. That the parent's days of worrying are behind them. I admit I once thought this too. Boy, was I wrong.
I think back now about my own parents and remember a couple of events that should have prepared me for being the parent of adult children and the continued worry that comes with it. The first occasion was shortly before my dad died. My wife and I, along with our two oldest kids, one a toddler, the other only 6 months old, visited my parents. While we were there, my dad pulled me aside and asked me how I was doing, and If I was happy in life. I was taken aback by these questions, which were asked so seriously, but told my dad that I was doing good, and my life was indeed a happy one. I then asked why he asked. He simply said I was his son and he would always worry about me. I didn't give it much thought until many years later.
The second instance came many years after the first, long after my dad was gone. My mother, one day while I was visiting her, asked me similar questions. Of course, I assured her that my life was good, but I was curious why she asked these questions. She replied that a parent always worried about their children. At the time, my mother was 79. I was 44. Two of my children were teens; the other a pre-teen. So, of course I worried about them. However, I still wrongly thought that when they were "grown and gone", my worries would end.
The joys you have in watching a beautiful helpless baby grow into strong, caring, independent adults certainly outweigh the worry you will always carry with you about their well-being. But now, at nearly 64 - and my adult children at 35, 31, and 28 - I understand why my parents asked me those questions so many years ago. Being a parent is, after all, a lifetime commitment.
Old Fart Mike
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Why P.R. Matters
My background includes some 15 years in sales & marketing and then an additional 17 years as a General Manager of hotels throughout the U.S. In these various positions I learned that a Public image is incredibly important, particularly when something goes wrong. As we've seen recently, people and companies who don't have some knowledge of how to handle disastrous situations can bring about further difficulties for themselves and/or the organizations they represent.
The most notable company, of course, would be British Petroleum and their representative Tony Hayward who has made so many blunders that virtually no one believes or trusts them anymore. Hayward may be a competent leader when things are going well, but, as has been proven in recent weeks, he is clueless as to how to handle himself in front of the press. One has to wonder exactly how a man holding his lofty position ever got there without some type of training in disaster communications. As Sonny Corleone once said to Tom Hagen, "You're not a war time, Consigliere." This would seem to apply to Mr. Hayward.
Another situation occurred just yesterday when an article appeared in Rolling Stone magazine. General Stanley McChrystal, the leader of the troops fighting the war in Afghanistan, had granted an earlier interview to reporters of this publication, and allowed access to other members of his command to these same reporters. What came out, of course, is that the General and his aides denigrated the President of the United States - a.k.a. The Commander in Chief, a.k.a. His Boss; The Vice President; the head of the Security Council; The Ambassador to Afghanistan; and a Diplomat of one of our allies.
While many regard General McChrystal as an "Intellectual", this, once again, proves that rarely, if ever, should members of the Military be categorized as "Intellectuals". As a former Marine - though not in such a lofty rank as General McChrystal - I knew that we were NOT allowed to EVER disparage the Commander in Chief. As a member of the Armed Forces you simply cannot do that - especially if you are a high ranking officer.
The right to free speech is one thing. As a civilian you can criticize the President all you want. As the man put in charge of running a war, you cannot. Perhaps General McChrystal believes he is indispensible and believes some of the articles that have been written about him - namely, that he is the only one that can win this war in Afghanistan. However, he certainly would have benefitted from some P.R. training. By his, and his officers comments for this magazine article, he has jeopardized not just his and his officers standing - but that of the United States of America, it's allies, it's troops and their morale. All because no one taught him the benefits of public relations.
Some people are urging President Obama to move cautiously as McChrystal is needed to bring this war to a close. I, on the other hand, think the President should simply fire him.
Old Fart Mike
The most notable company, of course, would be British Petroleum and their representative Tony Hayward who has made so many blunders that virtually no one believes or trusts them anymore. Hayward may be a competent leader when things are going well, but, as has been proven in recent weeks, he is clueless as to how to handle himself in front of the press. One has to wonder exactly how a man holding his lofty position ever got there without some type of training in disaster communications. As Sonny Corleone once said to Tom Hagen, "You're not a war time, Consigliere." This would seem to apply to Mr. Hayward.
Another situation occurred just yesterday when an article appeared in Rolling Stone magazine. General Stanley McChrystal, the leader of the troops fighting the war in Afghanistan, had granted an earlier interview to reporters of this publication, and allowed access to other members of his command to these same reporters. What came out, of course, is that the General and his aides denigrated the President of the United States - a.k.a. The Commander in Chief, a.k.a. His Boss; The Vice President; the head of the Security Council; The Ambassador to Afghanistan; and a Diplomat of one of our allies.
While many regard General McChrystal as an "Intellectual", this, once again, proves that rarely, if ever, should members of the Military be categorized as "Intellectuals". As a former Marine - though not in such a lofty rank as General McChrystal - I knew that we were NOT allowed to EVER disparage the Commander in Chief. As a member of the Armed Forces you simply cannot do that - especially if you are a high ranking officer.
The right to free speech is one thing. As a civilian you can criticize the President all you want. As the man put in charge of running a war, you cannot. Perhaps General McChrystal believes he is indispensible and believes some of the articles that have been written about him - namely, that he is the only one that can win this war in Afghanistan. However, he certainly would have benefitted from some P.R. training. By his, and his officers comments for this magazine article, he has jeopardized not just his and his officers standing - but that of the United States of America, it's allies, it's troops and their morale. All because no one taught him the benefits of public relations.
Some people are urging President Obama to move cautiously as McChrystal is needed to bring this war to a close. I, on the other hand, think the President should simply fire him.
Old Fart Mike
Thursday, June 10, 2010
A matter of Trust
Like any important issue, be it personal or business related, things come down to something that cannot ever be comprised. Trust. Relationships, no matter how good they seem on the surface, can never be totally fulfilled, or successful, if trust is not entirely a cornerstone of the relationship.
In recent times, we've seen Tiger Woods violate this trust with his wife and his fans in general. Jessee James has likewise done so to his spouse, Sandra Bullock, who is currently one of America's reigning Sweethearts.
In the business world, we've all seen the ramifications of lost trust by the excesses of those companies on Wall Street, and before that, organizations like Enron. Our politicians have also, in my lifetime, beginning with President Nixon, greatly disappointed us by violating the trust we gave to them via our votes. It has greatly contributed to the cynicism that now pervades our minds instead of the idealism that those of us called the "Baby Boomers" once were blessed with.
Now, with the disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, British Petroleum, or "BP", keeps violating our trust. They have done this, and are apparently going to continue to do so, by either bald-faced lying, or "concealing" the truth, about what is actually happening with the enormous amount of oil that is flowing from their underwater well.
BP, and the other companies who were involved with the rig, first began finger pointing when asked about the causes for the eruption. Then BP erroneously indicated the amount of oil that was being ejected into the ocean. They also denied the existence of oil plumes, which other scientists have now proven exist. Though it is difficult to measure exactly how much oil is currently flowing, it looks like it is considerably more than what BP is claiming at present.
British Petroleum had attempted to hide the pictures of the oil flowing - until enough pressure was put on them by congress, President Obama, and the American public, that they truly had no choice in the matter but to allow news organizations to show these images. Their CEO is a disaster himself. Any Public Relations person would cringe if they knew he was going to say in advance of what he said. How someone with P.R. experience failed to coach him is a mystery to me.
They continue to say one thing and do another. People who are in danger of losing their livelihoods - for a long time - are complaining of both red tape and slow pay, as they try to ward off their creditors. Based on BP's performance to date, this should be no surprise to anyone.
Now this company is purportedly spending $50 million in advertising to repair their incredibly damaged image. I believe it is way too late.
As I learned as a child, it is better when you make a mistake to own up to it, apologize, tell the truth, and do everything you can to fix it - no matter what. I utilized this credo in my career too, and it never failed me. Too bad BP's CEO and it's board of directors didn't learn what I did as a kid. Because once you lose trust, it is gone forever.
Old Fart Mike
In recent times, we've seen Tiger Woods violate this trust with his wife and his fans in general. Jessee James has likewise done so to his spouse, Sandra Bullock, who is currently one of America's reigning Sweethearts.
In the business world, we've all seen the ramifications of lost trust by the excesses of those companies on Wall Street, and before that, organizations like Enron. Our politicians have also, in my lifetime, beginning with President Nixon, greatly disappointed us by violating the trust we gave to them via our votes. It has greatly contributed to the cynicism that now pervades our minds instead of the idealism that those of us called the "Baby Boomers" once were blessed with.
Now, with the disaster in the Gulf of Mexico, British Petroleum, or "BP", keeps violating our trust. They have done this, and are apparently going to continue to do so, by either bald-faced lying, or "concealing" the truth, about what is actually happening with the enormous amount of oil that is flowing from their underwater well.
BP, and the other companies who were involved with the rig, first began finger pointing when asked about the causes for the eruption. Then BP erroneously indicated the amount of oil that was being ejected into the ocean. They also denied the existence of oil plumes, which other scientists have now proven exist. Though it is difficult to measure exactly how much oil is currently flowing, it looks like it is considerably more than what BP is claiming at present.
British Petroleum had attempted to hide the pictures of the oil flowing - until enough pressure was put on them by congress, President Obama, and the American public, that they truly had no choice in the matter but to allow news organizations to show these images. Their CEO is a disaster himself. Any Public Relations person would cringe if they knew he was going to say in advance of what he said. How someone with P.R. experience failed to coach him is a mystery to me.
They continue to say one thing and do another. People who are in danger of losing their livelihoods - for a long time - are complaining of both red tape and slow pay, as they try to ward off their creditors. Based on BP's performance to date, this should be no surprise to anyone.
Now this company is purportedly spending $50 million in advertising to repair their incredibly damaged image. I believe it is way too late.
As I learned as a child, it is better when you make a mistake to own up to it, apologize, tell the truth, and do everything you can to fix it - no matter what. I utilized this credo in my career too, and it never failed me. Too bad BP's CEO and it's board of directors didn't learn what I did as a kid. Because once you lose trust, it is gone forever.
Old Fart Mike
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Tragic Anniversary
Today marks the 42nd anniversary of the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy. He was shot down only moments after securing victory in the California Democratic Primary to become President of the United States. His assassin was Sirhan Sirhan, an employee of the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles, California - my home state.
As a young man of almost 22, I had already fulfilled my service obligation in the Marine Corps, having been drafted into this branch of the military some two years beforehand. I, however, was one of the very few who never went overseas to that hellhole called Viet Nam. I was, as I have been for all of my life, simply lucky. However, I knew many Marines who did serve in that war. Some never returned. Many who did return were wounded, either physically, or emotionally. They were changed men. They were part of the reason I changed my views of the war in Viet Nam. Like many early on, I simply accepted what our government told us - namely, we had to fight this war to stop the spread of communism from reaching us here in the good old U.S.A. Then, after losing some friends and seeing what this war had done to others, I began to question what we were doing fighting over there.
So, aside from the fact that Bobby was JFK's younger brother (who was my hero), Senator Kennedy appealed to me because he was one of the few politicians who came out early against the Viet Nam war. As a result of his stance, I became a volunteer for his campaign. I didn't do much. Just went door to door handing out leaflets. Made phone calls on his behalf and put up campaign signs in conspicuous areas so they might be seen by people driving by. I also, with some other guys around my age, formed a Young Democrats club in my little area of town.
That enabled me to wrangle an invite to the Ambassador Hotel and the hoped for Celebration party for Senator Kennedy. I had my credentials and pass and everything was set to go for me. Then, early that morning, I got a call from my boss. "Mike, I know you were set to take off early, but _____ called in sick, he's got the flu. I need you to go to San Diego and cover the trade Show for him." Damn, I swore, under my breath, I was hoping to actually get to meet Bobby Kennedy later that night. But, when your boss calls....
So, I went and turned in my credentials so someone else could go to the Ambassador.
I picked up what I needed and drove to San Diego. Set up our booth and manned it until it was time to close for the night. Grabbed a bite to eat and headed up to my hotel room and turned on the T.V.
I watched the revelry and the returns until it was evident that my candidate, Bobby Kennedy had won. I was so excited. So happy and thinking to myself that he would surely go to the convention in Chicago and win the Democratic nomination - and, of course, destiny would be fulfilled, and he'd become President in the general election in November. Senator Kennedy gave his speech, and finished with "...and now, it's on to Chicago and let's win there!". Then he left the stage.
I had an early morning the next day, so I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth before turning in, but left the TV on. Then I heard something that just didn't sound quite right coming from the TV, so I came out of the bathroom to see what the deal was. Of course, pandemonium was taking place as word spread about Bobby being shot.
I stayed up for hours watching and praying. And crying. How could this actually happen to another Kennedy brother? And so soon after Martin Luther King? What in the world? I finally fell asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. The Television was still on and the news was still bad. Bobby was clinging to life, but it was tenuous at best. And I had to put on a smile and go man a booth trying to interest potential customers in my product.
Somehow, I made it through the day. Then the announcement came that Senator Kennedy had died. Fortunately, the show I was attending had ended.
Watching the train that traveled cross-country carrying Bobby's body was numbing and terribly sad. As the years went by, starting with the election of Republican Richard Nixon that year, who defeated Democratic candidate Hubert Humphrey by a slim margin, I've wondered many times how things might have been different had RFK not been assassinated. Would he have been able to end the war in Viet Nam quickly? How many of our troops would have been spared their lives? Had he been elected, we would have been spared the disgrace that Nixon brought upon the office which, I believe, changed American's faith in government forever. Of course, we'll never know these things. They will be only suppositions by people like myself.
And today, only brief mentions of his assassination will occur. Yet I, who came so close to witnessing history up close and personal, will never forget Robert Francis Kennedy and the hope he gave us before being cut down by an assassin.
Old Fart Mike
As a young man of almost 22, I had already fulfilled my service obligation in the Marine Corps, having been drafted into this branch of the military some two years beforehand. I, however, was one of the very few who never went overseas to that hellhole called Viet Nam. I was, as I have been for all of my life, simply lucky. However, I knew many Marines who did serve in that war. Some never returned. Many who did return were wounded, either physically, or emotionally. They were changed men. They were part of the reason I changed my views of the war in Viet Nam. Like many early on, I simply accepted what our government told us - namely, we had to fight this war to stop the spread of communism from reaching us here in the good old U.S.A. Then, after losing some friends and seeing what this war had done to others, I began to question what we were doing fighting over there.
So, aside from the fact that Bobby was JFK's younger brother (who was my hero), Senator Kennedy appealed to me because he was one of the few politicians who came out early against the Viet Nam war. As a result of his stance, I became a volunteer for his campaign. I didn't do much. Just went door to door handing out leaflets. Made phone calls on his behalf and put up campaign signs in conspicuous areas so they might be seen by people driving by. I also, with some other guys around my age, formed a Young Democrats club in my little area of town.
That enabled me to wrangle an invite to the Ambassador Hotel and the hoped for Celebration party for Senator Kennedy. I had my credentials and pass and everything was set to go for me. Then, early that morning, I got a call from my boss. "Mike, I know you were set to take off early, but _____ called in sick, he's got the flu. I need you to go to San Diego and cover the trade Show for him." Damn, I swore, under my breath, I was hoping to actually get to meet Bobby Kennedy later that night. But, when your boss calls....
So, I went and turned in my credentials so someone else could go to the Ambassador.
I picked up what I needed and drove to San Diego. Set up our booth and manned it until it was time to close for the night. Grabbed a bite to eat and headed up to my hotel room and turned on the T.V.
I watched the revelry and the returns until it was evident that my candidate, Bobby Kennedy had won. I was so excited. So happy and thinking to myself that he would surely go to the convention in Chicago and win the Democratic nomination - and, of course, destiny would be fulfilled, and he'd become President in the general election in November. Senator Kennedy gave his speech, and finished with "...and now, it's on to Chicago and let's win there!". Then he left the stage.
I had an early morning the next day, so I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth before turning in, but left the TV on. Then I heard something that just didn't sound quite right coming from the TV, so I came out of the bathroom to see what the deal was. Of course, pandemonium was taking place as word spread about Bobby being shot.
I stayed up for hours watching and praying. And crying. How could this actually happen to another Kennedy brother? And so soon after Martin Luther King? What in the world? I finally fell asleep sometime in the early hours of the morning. The Television was still on and the news was still bad. Bobby was clinging to life, but it was tenuous at best. And I had to put on a smile and go man a booth trying to interest potential customers in my product.
Somehow, I made it through the day. Then the announcement came that Senator Kennedy had died. Fortunately, the show I was attending had ended.
Watching the train that traveled cross-country carrying Bobby's body was numbing and terribly sad. As the years went by, starting with the election of Republican Richard Nixon that year, who defeated Democratic candidate Hubert Humphrey by a slim margin, I've wondered many times how things might have been different had RFK not been assassinated. Would he have been able to end the war in Viet Nam quickly? How many of our troops would have been spared their lives? Had he been elected, we would have been spared the disgrace that Nixon brought upon the office which, I believe, changed American's faith in government forever. Of course, we'll never know these things. They will be only suppositions by people like myself.
And today, only brief mentions of his assassination will occur. Yet I, who came so close to witnessing history up close and personal, will never forget Robert Francis Kennedy and the hope he gave us before being cut down by an assassin.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, May 28, 2010
Long weekends
Another 3 day weekend is upon us. This time it's Memorial Day. People are scurrying about loading up on items for the grill - hot dogs, burgers, and the accompanying condiments. Others, of course, are headed out to lakes, campgrounds, beaches, or other places of enjoyment or relaxation. Still others will toil in their yards, getting rid of the weeds that have popped up during the spring, or landscaping, or doing that long put-off project around the house.
All of that is well and good, but, like most holidays, the reason behind them rarely gets remembered. Or, if it does, it is fleeting at best. A brief thought. A glance at the news where a sound bite, or a picture of some happening commemorates the reason for the holiday. Then it's back to the fun or the project.
This Memorial Day, however, wouldn't it be nice if everyone just stopped for more than a minute to think about what this "Holiday" is all about. Back when this old fart was but a youngster, this holiday was known as "Decoration Day". Regardless of the name, the day is set aside to honor the brave men and women who over our more than 200 years, have fought and died to secure the freedom of the United States of America. Over 1.3 million of our brave people have died in this endeavor. As we are still involved in wars today - and likely will be in the future - more of our citizens will die protecting us. So, setting aside a day - and more than a few minutes to honor those who have given their life for our freedoms, doesn't seem to be a stretch to me.
In fact, we should honor more than just the memory of those who died in wars protecting us. Everyone who has served in one of our many wars deserves our thanks and praise. Countless thousands of brave men and women have protected us, and have been wounded - either physically or psychologically. Others came through their time in wars seemingly unscathed. But, as many have attested, war changes those who experience it. We must never forget that. Or those who have served.
So, to all those folks who are planning their fun weekend, or going to complete that long-delayed project, don't forget that your 3-day weekend wouldn't have been possible without the sacrifices of the people who have fought and died to enable you to have this time off. Stop for more than a minute and reflect on those people who cannot experience what you are about to. And say a prayer for their families who have had to live without them.
Old Fart Mike
All of that is well and good, but, like most holidays, the reason behind them rarely gets remembered. Or, if it does, it is fleeting at best. A brief thought. A glance at the news where a sound bite, or a picture of some happening commemorates the reason for the holiday. Then it's back to the fun or the project.
This Memorial Day, however, wouldn't it be nice if everyone just stopped for more than a minute to think about what this "Holiday" is all about. Back when this old fart was but a youngster, this holiday was known as "Decoration Day". Regardless of the name, the day is set aside to honor the brave men and women who over our more than 200 years, have fought and died to secure the freedom of the United States of America. Over 1.3 million of our brave people have died in this endeavor. As we are still involved in wars today - and likely will be in the future - more of our citizens will die protecting us. So, setting aside a day - and more than a few minutes to honor those who have given their life for our freedoms, doesn't seem to be a stretch to me.
In fact, we should honor more than just the memory of those who died in wars protecting us. Everyone who has served in one of our many wars deserves our thanks and praise. Countless thousands of brave men and women have protected us, and have been wounded - either physically or psychologically. Others came through their time in wars seemingly unscathed. But, as many have attested, war changes those who experience it. We must never forget that. Or those who have served.
So, to all those folks who are planning their fun weekend, or going to complete that long-delayed project, don't forget that your 3-day weekend wouldn't have been possible without the sacrifices of the people who have fought and died to enable you to have this time off. Stop for more than a minute and reflect on those people who cannot experience what you are about to. And say a prayer for their families who have had to live without them.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Tea Party's Newest Whacko
A new crazy has been awakened in the Tea Party. Rand Paul, the Tea Party candidate, who won the Republican Nomination for Senate over the preferred mainstream GOP candidate in the State of Kentucky on Tuesday night has shocked even a few of the Republican leadership.
His response to the question, posed by liberal Rachel Maddow,who asked if a private business had the right to refuse service to a black person? was "Yes". Cool, huh? After all the stuff that has gone on in this country for 200+ years; the civil war; the civil rights act of 1964 - enacted the year this old fart graduated from high school; the beatings and hosings that were seen on nightly news broadcasts; Rosa Parks; Dr. Martin Luther King; , and so many low and high points in the struggle to gain equality, this idiot bigot, in one three-letter-word answer, affirms something that is still practiced by too many people in the country - racial prejudice.
Mr. Paul, of course, has spent the better part of the last couple of days attempting to backtrack on this position a bit. Saying in further interviews that he would have voted for the Civil rights act had he been in the Senate when it came up for the vote. He also said he abhors bigotry. Yada, yada, yada.
He further attempts to explain his view as that of a libertarian - simply defending the right of a business owner to choose to serve whomever he/she wants, without Government interference. Problem is, Mr. Paul, there are laws. Oh - whoops, I forgot - you and your kind only want CERTAIN laws. Like against abortion and Gay marriage. It's okay for the government to intervene then. Just not when it comes to serving nigras (That's probably how you refer to African-Americans behind closed doors).
Interesting, too, that the day before you answered that question for Rachel Maddow, you had a little interview on NPR where you exercised your concerns about the Americans with Disabilities Act. Seems that law is a bit too stringent for you also. I'd bet you're a big supporter of those new laws in Arizona too.
He's a real man of the people, Mr. Paul is. He even had his victory party at a country club. A place where most of the Tea Party probably couldn't get in.
Demagoguery is alive and well in Kentucky, and the Tea Party has a new hero. If he gets elected to the Senate in November, maybe they will have a candidate to run for President in 2012.
Ain't we lucky?
Old Fart Mike
His response to the question, posed by liberal Rachel Maddow,who asked if a private business had the right to refuse service to a black person? was "Yes". Cool, huh? After all the stuff that has gone on in this country for 200+ years; the civil war; the civil rights act of 1964 - enacted the year this old fart graduated from high school; the beatings and hosings that were seen on nightly news broadcasts; Rosa Parks; Dr. Martin Luther King; , and so many low and high points in the struggle to gain equality, this idiot bigot, in one three-letter-word answer, affirms something that is still practiced by too many people in the country - racial prejudice.
Mr. Paul, of course, has spent the better part of the last couple of days attempting to backtrack on this position a bit. Saying in further interviews that he would have voted for the Civil rights act had he been in the Senate when it came up for the vote. He also said he abhors bigotry. Yada, yada, yada.
He further attempts to explain his view as that of a libertarian - simply defending the right of a business owner to choose to serve whomever he/she wants, without Government interference. Problem is, Mr. Paul, there are laws. Oh - whoops, I forgot - you and your kind only want CERTAIN laws. Like against abortion and Gay marriage. It's okay for the government to intervene then. Just not when it comes to serving nigras (That's probably how you refer to African-Americans behind closed doors).
Interesting, too, that the day before you answered that question for Rachel Maddow, you had a little interview on NPR where you exercised your concerns about the Americans with Disabilities Act. Seems that law is a bit too stringent for you also. I'd bet you're a big supporter of those new laws in Arizona too.
He's a real man of the people, Mr. Paul is. He even had his victory party at a country club. A place where most of the Tea Party probably couldn't get in.
Demagoguery is alive and well in Kentucky, and the Tea Party has a new hero. If he gets elected to the Senate in November, maybe they will have a candidate to run for President in 2012.
Ain't we lucky?
Old Fart Mike
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Suffer the Little Children
I was baptized a Catholic at the age of approximately 3 months, which is pretty much the custom among Catholics. I went to Catholic school through the 8th grade. I raised all of my three children in the faith, and even sent one through parochial schools through his high school years.I practiced Catholicism, going to mass each Sunday, until maybe 8 years ago when I had experienced enough hypocrisy to last a lifetime. I am now what you might call a lapsed Catholic, or Fallen one. While I won't go into ALL the reasons for this, I do want to comment upon the most egregious sins of the church - pedophilia.
When the Pope came out last week and took some responsibility for the most recent scandals involving the Catholic Church and it's priests and bishops involved in the molestation of boys over the years, I had a brief glimmer of hope. What he said was that the blame shouldn't be borne by the media as had been strongly suggested by his underlings and others connected with the Roman Catholic church, rather the church should accept the blame itself for it's failures. How refreshing, I thought. It's about time, I thought. For far too long, the church and it's leaders have either shifted the blame somewhere else, or simply ignored the problems that have been going on for decades. Now, I thought, we're getting somewhere.
Today, however, in scanning the Washington Post, as I do on a daily basis, I saw a story headline that raised the hackles on my neck. "Vatican Defense Centers on employment status of Bishops" read the article's headline. Obviously, I had to read it. The first sentence really says it all: "The Vatican prepared Monday to make its most detailed defense yet against claims that it is liable for U.S. bishops who allowed priests to molest children, saying bishops are not its employees and that a 1962 Vatican document did not require bishops to keep quiet."
A lawsuit had apparently been brought forth by three gentlemen in 2004 who were abused by priests decades ago and "...accuse the Vatican of negligence". The lawyer for the Vatican apparently contends that the "...bishops are not its employees because they are not paid by Rome, do not act on Rome's behalf and are not controlled day to day by the pope -- factors courts use to determine whether employers are liable for the actions of their workers."
Good Grief! So, Bishops, and/or Cardinals, "do not act on Rome's behalf and are not controlled day to day by the Pope..." Can they be serious? Just who calls the shots then? If a Bishop, or Cardinal wants to go his (Notice the "His" here as women will never have a place on the alter) own way on a policy (Liturgical) decision, you mean the Pope won't jerk his chain and bring him in line? Or require his resignation? For example, let's just say, a Bishop/cardinal tells his congregation that birth control is okay as far as he is concerned - condoms, etc. This, of course is NOT okay with Church teachings. So, the Pope finds out about this. He's not gonna reverse the local teaching? Gimme a Break.
In any case, they are using this argument to again deny any responsibility for what has been going on for decades - the molestation of innocent children by criminal priests. And, that, my friends, is what it is - CRIMINAL! I happen to know someone who was molested by a priest many years ago. He is still screwed up because of it - nearly 60 years later. It has ruined his life. If anyone else committed this crime, there would be no question. He would be arrested, tried, and in most cases, convicted of this heinous crime. But, the Catholic Church has been exempt from the law.
Instead, when bishops, cardinals and the Pope himself have been made aware of the crimes, they have hidden the criminals by transferring them to other parishes - sometimes multiple times. Isn't this a crime too? Aiding and abetting? So why are they above the law?
It seems to me that although God will eventually judge these men for their horrific sins against innocent children, we do need to both ensure justice here in our world and prevent further crimes from occurring to the vulnerable and trusting youth affected by these monsters.
The Pope, his Cardinals & Bishops, need to do more than just hire a fancy lawyer who utilizes loopholes in corporate law to get the church off the hook for paying out money to those who have been damaged by molestation. As with anything, they need to first admit it is a problem of the church. Then they need to find a way to stop it from happening in the future.
Old Fart Mike
When the Pope came out last week and took some responsibility for the most recent scandals involving the Catholic Church and it's priests and bishops involved in the molestation of boys over the years, I had a brief glimmer of hope. What he said was that the blame shouldn't be borne by the media as had been strongly suggested by his underlings and others connected with the Roman Catholic church, rather the church should accept the blame itself for it's failures. How refreshing, I thought. It's about time, I thought. For far too long, the church and it's leaders have either shifted the blame somewhere else, or simply ignored the problems that have been going on for decades. Now, I thought, we're getting somewhere.
Today, however, in scanning the Washington Post, as I do on a daily basis, I saw a story headline that raised the hackles on my neck. "Vatican Defense Centers on employment status of Bishops" read the article's headline. Obviously, I had to read it. The first sentence really says it all: "The Vatican prepared Monday to make its most detailed defense yet against claims that it is liable for U.S. bishops who allowed priests to molest children, saying bishops are not its employees and that a 1962 Vatican document did not require bishops to keep quiet."
A lawsuit had apparently been brought forth by three gentlemen in 2004 who were abused by priests decades ago and "...accuse the Vatican of negligence". The lawyer for the Vatican apparently contends that the "...bishops are not its employees because they are not paid by Rome, do not act on Rome's behalf and are not controlled day to day by the pope -- factors courts use to determine whether employers are liable for the actions of their workers."
Good Grief! So, Bishops, and/or Cardinals, "do not act on Rome's behalf and are not controlled day to day by the Pope..." Can they be serious? Just who calls the shots then? If a Bishop, or Cardinal wants to go his (Notice the "His" here as women will never have a place on the alter) own way on a policy (Liturgical) decision, you mean the Pope won't jerk his chain and bring him in line? Or require his resignation? For example, let's just say, a Bishop/cardinal tells his congregation that birth control is okay as far as he is concerned - condoms, etc. This, of course is NOT okay with Church teachings. So, the Pope finds out about this. He's not gonna reverse the local teaching? Gimme a Break.
In any case, they are using this argument to again deny any responsibility for what has been going on for decades - the molestation of innocent children by criminal priests. And, that, my friends, is what it is - CRIMINAL! I happen to know someone who was molested by a priest many years ago. He is still screwed up because of it - nearly 60 years later. It has ruined his life. If anyone else committed this crime, there would be no question. He would be arrested, tried, and in most cases, convicted of this heinous crime. But, the Catholic Church has been exempt from the law.
Instead, when bishops, cardinals and the Pope himself have been made aware of the crimes, they have hidden the criminals by transferring them to other parishes - sometimes multiple times. Isn't this a crime too? Aiding and abetting? So why are they above the law?
It seems to me that although God will eventually judge these men for their horrific sins against innocent children, we do need to both ensure justice here in our world and prevent further crimes from occurring to the vulnerable and trusting youth affected by these monsters.
The Pope, his Cardinals & Bishops, need to do more than just hire a fancy lawyer who utilizes loopholes in corporate law to get the church off the hook for paying out money to those who have been damaged by molestation. As with anything, they need to first admit it is a problem of the church. Then they need to find a way to stop it from happening in the future.
Old Fart Mike
Saturday, May 15, 2010
No one to talk to
When a man reaches a certain age - in my case, nearly 64 - it becomes apparent that there really is no one to turn to when things trouble him. As a boy, of course, you have your father. He knows everything - at least until you reach those awful teenage years when you decide he knows nothing. Fortunately, you realize, in your early to mid-twenties that maybe Dad does know a little bit about something after all. Unfortunately, some of that disappears when you reach you mid-thirties and find you are now a grown-up and think you have most of the answers. Then dad passes on.
I am fortunate in that I have a brother on whom I can lean from time to time, but he lives across the country and sometimes a phone call just doesn't suffice when it comes to explaining things that are long, drawn-out affairs that encompass years of development. I also have a spouse who I've been married to for nearly two-third's of my life, but, you know, sometimes a man needs another man to talk to. Or, if the problem should involve your spouse, that could definitely pose a problem.
Unfortunately, my absolute best friend passed away a couple of years ago. He was a guy that I could talk to about every, or any, thing. In fact, we shared some of the most intimate problems in our lives, as well as, of course, the most wonderful things we were experiencing. Alas, he's long gone, so there's no one to talk to.
This sounds kinda whiny, and a man isn't supposed to do that, so I better stop now.
Old Fart Mike
I am fortunate in that I have a brother on whom I can lean from time to time, but he lives across the country and sometimes a phone call just doesn't suffice when it comes to explaining things that are long, drawn-out affairs that encompass years of development. I also have a spouse who I've been married to for nearly two-third's of my life, but, you know, sometimes a man needs another man to talk to. Or, if the problem should involve your spouse, that could definitely pose a problem.
Unfortunately, my absolute best friend passed away a couple of years ago. He was a guy that I could talk to about every, or any, thing. In fact, we shared some of the most intimate problems in our lives, as well as, of course, the most wonderful things we were experiencing. Alas, he's long gone, so there's no one to talk to.
This sounds kinda whiny, and a man isn't supposed to do that, so I better stop now.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, April 16, 2010
"Clowns to the left of me, Jokers to the right...."
With apologies to the group, Stealers Wheel, I believe I've found the perfect anthem for the Tea Party. At least from my perspective. Though not all the lyrics are reflective of the Tea Partiers, the above certainly casts them in the right light. And me, living in the Reddest of the Red States (Not one county in Oklahoma voted for Obama in the general election) and being surrounded in my own neighborhood by people who openly admit they support this incredible group, I definitely feel "I'm stuck in the middle with you", the title of the song that includes those lyrics.
Yesterday, of course, being April 15th, otherwise known as tax day, brought out the crazies in mass. They held their signs and protested just about everything going on in government these days. One of their main causes yesterday was their perceived feeling that President Obama was assaulting "their taxes". None obviously noticed that the president has actually lowered taxes for 95% of the American public since taking office. The other 5% whose taxes were, or would be affected negatively, earn in excess of $200,000 annually. To learn such facts, these folks would have to read a newspaper, a weekly news magazine, or perhaps switch channels from their beloved Fox News channel.
One of the great signs I saw yesterday amid the rubble was one held up high. It said: "Don't steal from medicare to support socialized Medicine". Again, it makes you wonder exactly what the sign-holders concept of "Socialized medicine" is. For if Medicare isn't a part of that nasty "Socialized" program that was pushed through congress by arm-twisting LBJ in the 1960's, I'm at a loss to explain what is. Interesting too, that a great number of these same folks enjoy both their Medicare AND SOCIAL Security benefits while protesting against health care reform.
They are still griping that they will lose their Health insurance and have to take insurance that government imposes on them. Nowhere in the actual bill is this said or implied. One woman here locally also inferred that she would be victim of a death panel when the time came. Still stuck on Sarah Palin 1.0, I guess. I can't understand why these folks think making insurance companies NOT exclude people with pre-existing conditions is a bad thing. Nor making insurance available to people that can't afford it now is bad. After all, they are already paying for it through increased bills via the care hospitals give in providing free care to people that are unable to pay. I mean doesn't everyone know Insurance companies have been ripping us off for years? And hospitals have been padding their bills?
The other sign that caught my eye was this one. It had a lovely message on it: "Gee, a whole lotta white people here today". How nice. On the day civil rights leader Dr. Benjamin Hooks passed away.
The Tea Baggers try to claim that they are NOT bigoted. Not a bunch of crazies. Yet people in their crowd continue to exhibit both bigotry and uninformed messages. They brag that they carry their guns and their religion with them as their standards. Yet, they carry messages of hate and lack of understanding.
These Tea Party people need to stop drinking caffeine-laced tea, and switch to Sleepy Time.
Old Fart Mike
Yesterday, of course, being April 15th, otherwise known as tax day, brought out the crazies in mass. They held their signs and protested just about everything going on in government these days. One of their main causes yesterday was their perceived feeling that President Obama was assaulting "their taxes". None obviously noticed that the president has actually lowered taxes for 95% of the American public since taking office. The other 5% whose taxes were, or would be affected negatively, earn in excess of $200,000 annually. To learn such facts, these folks would have to read a newspaper, a weekly news magazine, or perhaps switch channels from their beloved Fox News channel.
One of the great signs I saw yesterday amid the rubble was one held up high. It said: "Don't steal from medicare to support socialized Medicine". Again, it makes you wonder exactly what the sign-holders concept of "Socialized medicine" is. For if Medicare isn't a part of that nasty "Socialized" program that was pushed through congress by arm-twisting LBJ in the 1960's, I'm at a loss to explain what is. Interesting too, that a great number of these same folks enjoy both their Medicare AND SOCIAL Security benefits while protesting against health care reform.
They are still griping that they will lose their Health insurance and have to take insurance that government imposes on them. Nowhere in the actual bill is this said or implied. One woman here locally also inferred that she would be victim of a death panel when the time came. Still stuck on Sarah Palin 1.0, I guess. I can't understand why these folks think making insurance companies NOT exclude people with pre-existing conditions is a bad thing. Nor making insurance available to people that can't afford it now is bad. After all, they are already paying for it through increased bills via the care hospitals give in providing free care to people that are unable to pay. I mean doesn't everyone know Insurance companies have been ripping us off for years? And hospitals have been padding their bills?
The other sign that caught my eye was this one. It had a lovely message on it: "Gee, a whole lotta white people here today". How nice. On the day civil rights leader Dr. Benjamin Hooks passed away.
The Tea Baggers try to claim that they are NOT bigoted. Not a bunch of crazies. Yet people in their crowd continue to exhibit both bigotry and uninformed messages. They brag that they carry their guns and their religion with them as their standards. Yet, they carry messages of hate and lack of understanding.
These Tea Party people need to stop drinking caffeine-laced tea, and switch to Sleepy Time.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, April 9, 2010
Being a "Liberal"
I had told someone that my next topic was going to be the Catholic Church. After all, I am a Catholic, and much has been going on in this august body lately. But, some other things have just set me off recently, so I felt I had to, once again, comment on being a - here comes that dreaded nasty word - LIBERAL.
Perhaps it's because I have received so many negative e-mails in the last few days from "Conservatives" or people who just hate Obama or Democrats in general. Or maybe it's because one of my neighbors recently said to my bride, "If you like Hitler, you must love Obama". This person was attempting to coerce my wonderful wife, who is much less liberal than I, into attending a meeting of the Tea Party that is coming up. Fortunately, my bride is also highly intelligent and knows when to say no to invitations such as these.
In any case, I consider myself a "Liberal". That word, and philosophy, was once considered to be honorable. But during the last 25 years or so, it has become hated. My belief is that it really got ugly with the rise of talk show hosts like Rush Limbaugh who, when Clinton was elected President, began a daily assault on him with his (Limbaugh's) "Day 126(or whatever) of America held hostage", coinciding, of course, with Clinton's inauguration.
Many of the same people who send me such hated-filled, vitriolic e-mails seem to be both uninformed and hypocritical. Here's a recent situation:
Regarding Health Care Reform, I received a particularly nasty e-mail from a long-time friend recently that strongly criticized Government "Take-over" of health care and "all the damn entitlement programs" - while also saying not to touch his Medicare. When I pointed out that Medicare is a Government run program - and also an entitlement program that he was benefiting from, he responded with, "Yeah, but that's different. These Democrats are socialists." I further pointed out that both Social Security (Franklin Roosevelt) and Medicare (LBJ) were initiated by Democrats. He just got mad at me.
In fact, we Idiot LIBERALS were responsible for Social Security. Medicare. Voting Rights for Women - and for African Americans. Civil Rights too. Welfare for our poorest citizens - and Then Welfare Reforms(under Bill Clinton). Food Stamps. Entitlements? You bet. They are protections for those of us who have fallen on hard times. And regardless of what the so-called "Compassionate Conservatives" might say, most of us utilizing the entitlements aren't doing so just to beat the system. It's because the system beat us.
So, yes, I am a liberal. I am tired of defending my position of being one too. I wish the Democratic party would simply grow a pair; start waging the same kind of non-stop P.R. Campaign that the Republicans and Conservatives have done for the last 25 years; admit being Liberal, and wipe the shame off the word once and for all.
They need to put this quote in front of themselves:
"If by a “liberal” they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people — their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights and their civil liberties — someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a “liberal,” then I’m proud to say I’m a “liberal.”
– President John F. Kennedy
Old Fart Mike
Perhaps it's because I have received so many negative e-mails in the last few days from "Conservatives" or people who just hate Obama or Democrats in general. Or maybe it's because one of my neighbors recently said to my bride, "If you like Hitler, you must love Obama". This person was attempting to coerce my wonderful wife, who is much less liberal than I, into attending a meeting of the Tea Party that is coming up. Fortunately, my bride is also highly intelligent and knows when to say no to invitations such as these.
In any case, I consider myself a "Liberal". That word, and philosophy, was once considered to be honorable. But during the last 25 years or so, it has become hated. My belief is that it really got ugly with the rise of talk show hosts like Rush Limbaugh who, when Clinton was elected President, began a daily assault on him with his (Limbaugh's) "Day 126(or whatever) of America held hostage", coinciding, of course, with Clinton's inauguration.
Many of the same people who send me such hated-filled, vitriolic e-mails seem to be both uninformed and hypocritical. Here's a recent situation:
Regarding Health Care Reform, I received a particularly nasty e-mail from a long-time friend recently that strongly criticized Government "Take-over" of health care and "all the damn entitlement programs" - while also saying not to touch his Medicare. When I pointed out that Medicare is a Government run program - and also an entitlement program that he was benefiting from, he responded with, "Yeah, but that's different. These Democrats are socialists." I further pointed out that both Social Security (Franklin Roosevelt) and Medicare (LBJ) were initiated by Democrats. He just got mad at me.
In fact, we Idiot LIBERALS were responsible for Social Security. Medicare. Voting Rights for Women - and for African Americans. Civil Rights too. Welfare for our poorest citizens - and Then Welfare Reforms(under Bill Clinton). Food Stamps. Entitlements? You bet. They are protections for those of us who have fallen on hard times. And regardless of what the so-called "Compassionate Conservatives" might say, most of us utilizing the entitlements aren't doing so just to beat the system. It's because the system beat us.
So, yes, I am a liberal. I am tired of defending my position of being one too. I wish the Democratic party would simply grow a pair; start waging the same kind of non-stop P.R. Campaign that the Republicans and Conservatives have done for the last 25 years; admit being Liberal, and wipe the shame off the word once and for all.
They need to put this quote in front of themselves:
"If by a “liberal” they mean someone who looks ahead and not behind, someone who welcomes new ideas without rigid reactions, someone who cares about the welfare of the people — their health, their housing, their schools, their jobs, their civil rights and their civil liberties — someone who believes we can break through the stalemate and suspicions that grip us in our policies abroad, if that is what they mean by a “liberal,” then I’m proud to say I’m a “liberal.”
– President John F. Kennedy
Old Fart Mike
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Incivility
It has been a long time since I last blogged. As I told a long-time friend of mine, I have been busy, but I don't have any clue as to what I have been busy with. However, no matter how busy a person might be, you'd have to live in a cave, underground, not rearing your head for months to miss what has been going on as of late.
Perhaps I am just a fortunate person in that my parents raised me to be respectful. Though I thought the policies of our previous administration under Republican President, George W. Bush, were simply awful, I restrained myself from screaming aloud at him - or his erstwhile supporters. Instead, I simply voted against him and his party - every chance I got. And, as I received e-mails attacking his opponents, I usually responded with my own replies that consisted of facts obtained through legitimate organizations such as the Annenberg Foundation's Fact Check. I also, of course, with like-minded friends, bashed Bush - but it was done quietly - not amid placard carrying crowds threatening the President and members of congress. I believe I was, as well as the friends who agreed with me, civil in our disagreement with the policies of the opposition.
Since the election of President Obama, the ratcheted up rhetoric has increased to a point that is downright scary. I spoke to a friend who has contacts within the Secret Service who confirmed that threats on the life of the president are higher now than any time in history. Now that Health Care Reform has passed, and The Tea Party has emerged with a new issue, threats on congresspersons are emerging that are both uncalled for and dangerous.
Just in the last few days, Tea Partiers shouted "Nigger" at Democratic Congressman John Lewis, a former Civil right leader. They also shouted homophobic epithets at openly gay Democratic Congressman Barney Frank, and spit on another Black Congressman. Why? Because they voted for the health reform bill. Other indignities against democratic bill supporters include: Placing a coffin on the lawn of one congressional member; one being told the children of lawmakers would be victims of snipers shooting to kill; several had their offices vandalized; one received an envelope with white powder in it; and a gas line was cut at the home of the brother of a congressman that they thought was the congressman's home.
While I certainly believe it is fine - and even appropriate - to have honest, open discourse and disagreement on issues such as health care, but things that are occurring right now are just not right. The Republican party has disavowed these wingnuts - but not strongly enough. For them to openly encourage them to scream epithets; use banners that use words of hate; and not denounce these acts in every means possible only continues to fuel their fire. For Sarah Palin to urge her supporters to "Reload" cannot be called innocent no matter what she says now.
Incivility is defined as a lack of courtesy or politeness in the dictionary. But, as far as the acts that are currently being perpetrated against congressional members, it is far more than that. It is dangerous to their well-being. And, dangerous to what America stands for. Finally, I close with a quote I recently found, and shared with many of my friends - on both sides of the debate:
"As citizens we have to be more thoughtful and educated and more informed. I turn on the TV and I see these grown people screaming at each other, and I think, well, if we don’t get our civility back, we’re in trouble."
- Emmylou Harris, singer-songwriter
Old Fart Mike
Perhaps I am just a fortunate person in that my parents raised me to be respectful. Though I thought the policies of our previous administration under Republican President, George W. Bush, were simply awful, I restrained myself from screaming aloud at him - or his erstwhile supporters. Instead, I simply voted against him and his party - every chance I got. And, as I received e-mails attacking his opponents, I usually responded with my own replies that consisted of facts obtained through legitimate organizations such as the Annenberg Foundation's Fact Check. I also, of course, with like-minded friends, bashed Bush - but it was done quietly - not amid placard carrying crowds threatening the President and members of congress. I believe I was, as well as the friends who agreed with me, civil in our disagreement with the policies of the opposition.
Since the election of President Obama, the ratcheted up rhetoric has increased to a point that is downright scary. I spoke to a friend who has contacts within the Secret Service who confirmed that threats on the life of the president are higher now than any time in history. Now that Health Care Reform has passed, and The Tea Party has emerged with a new issue, threats on congresspersons are emerging that are both uncalled for and dangerous.
Just in the last few days, Tea Partiers shouted "Nigger" at Democratic Congressman John Lewis, a former Civil right leader. They also shouted homophobic epithets at openly gay Democratic Congressman Barney Frank, and spit on another Black Congressman. Why? Because they voted for the health reform bill. Other indignities against democratic bill supporters include: Placing a coffin on the lawn of one congressional member; one being told the children of lawmakers would be victims of snipers shooting to kill; several had their offices vandalized; one received an envelope with white powder in it; and a gas line was cut at the home of the brother of a congressman that they thought was the congressman's home.
While I certainly believe it is fine - and even appropriate - to have honest, open discourse and disagreement on issues such as health care, but things that are occurring right now are just not right. The Republican party has disavowed these wingnuts - but not strongly enough. For them to openly encourage them to scream epithets; use banners that use words of hate; and not denounce these acts in every means possible only continues to fuel their fire. For Sarah Palin to urge her supporters to "Reload" cannot be called innocent no matter what she says now.
Incivility is defined as a lack of courtesy or politeness in the dictionary. But, as far as the acts that are currently being perpetrated against congressional members, it is far more than that. It is dangerous to their well-being. And, dangerous to what America stands for. Finally, I close with a quote I recently found, and shared with many of my friends - on both sides of the debate:
"As citizens we have to be more thoughtful and educated and more informed. I turn on the TV and I see these grown people screaming at each other, and I think, well, if we don’t get our civility back, we’re in trouble."
- Emmylou Harris, singer-songwriter
Old Fart Mike
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