Monday, March 15, 2010
Return of the Blog
I guess I've let too much time slip by - I need to post something! What are my thoughts? I just watched the movie, "Precious." Powerful, gritty, all to human and all too real. It makes me want to share my life; affirm what I see in others.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Return of the Blog
It's not that I don't have opinions and passions, I just have so many running through the cranium at any one time I get perplexed about which urgency to pursue - more is coming in 2010, I can assure you. . . .
Monday, June 01, 2009
Thoughts from A Noticer
Yes, a noticer. . .and that is a person who notices - things, people, situations, and perspectives that others seem to miss. That's the premise behind Andy Andrew's book of the same name, The Noticer. I guess there are things that I could have and should have noticed a little sooner and maybe a little more often to boot. Didn't do it; I allowed experience, my own and no one else's, dictate what could have and should have been noticed. I sacrificed three friendly relationships in the process and considering the logistics of all this stuff, "sacrificed" is where all of this is going to stay.
One of the points this book makes is that life offers opportunities and encourgements. You only have encouragements as the opportunity presents itself, Andrews points out eloquently, and for that to happen, you have to be the kind of person that other people want to be around. I'm usually that person without any difficulty, but here awhile back I got into that (I thought) infrequent disagreeable mode where I acted and spoke before thinking. I know, other people do it all the time, but I am not other people, and I have to account for what I, not other folks, do. And this time I screwed the process up royally.
I think of what I lost a lot. Three people (and more pehaps) that know one side of me, a disagreeable and inhospitable side that no one should ever have to know or endure. I'm truly sorry for it and Self tells me that this whole affair backfired and left me with the noose around my neck, and everyone within a few mile radius heading for the hills. I've only myself to blame.
All hope is not lost. I can and will pick myself up from personal disappointment and move ahead. I have vowed no one ever need see this side of me again. Hopefully they won't.
One of the points this book makes is that life offers opportunities and encourgements. You only have encouragements as the opportunity presents itself, Andrews points out eloquently, and for that to happen, you have to be the kind of person that other people want to be around. I'm usually that person without any difficulty, but here awhile back I got into that (I thought) infrequent disagreeable mode where I acted and spoke before thinking. I know, other people do it all the time, but I am not other people, and I have to account for what I, not other folks, do. And this time I screwed the process up royally.
I think of what I lost a lot. Three people (and more pehaps) that know one side of me, a disagreeable and inhospitable side that no one should ever have to know or endure. I'm truly sorry for it and Self tells me that this whole affair backfired and left me with the noose around my neck, and everyone within a few mile radius heading for the hills. I've only myself to blame.
All hope is not lost. I can and will pick myself up from personal disappointment and move ahead. I have vowed no one ever need see this side of me again. Hopefully they won't.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Conversations on the 5:04
The guy who sat next to me last Friday afternoon on the 5:04 out of Ogilvie Transportation Center in Chicago works downtown, has a family, enjoys a tall can of beer on the way home , and is a great conversationalist. In this year's talk of campaign promises, partisan politics, and the the attendant nastiness, we chatted for more than an hour as the train rushed through the western suburbs (first stop is Wheaton) and I can't tell you whether he's more inclined to vote Republican or Democrat. Truth to tell, it doesn't really matter. Politics gets to be that special topic of conversation that people turn to when table talk gets rancid. I'm sure had we pursued some conversational avenue long enough one of us would have taken exception to a point made. If we were lesser gentlemen, we could've gotten into the political row and walked away from a potential friendship angry because the other guy doesn't see and interpret things the same way. Something tells me we got way past that point. We connected on a much more important level by minimizing the peripheral issues and talking about life beyond them.
We both enjoy jazz legend Pat Metheny. I'll recommend one of his newest albums, "The Way Up," only after you give a listen to "Letter From Home," or "Still Life Talking." I recommend the DVD release over the audio CD performance; it just seems to have more of a hook. It may be the visual stimulation, perhaps the performances are slightly different.
I guess the thing that really connected us is the desire to have personal and family priorities in order, recognizing that life isn't all about accumulating a lot of stuff, but having things reasonably right on the home front. Lest anyone think that because we work on priorities is making us perfect, think again. I've been married a little over 35 years, my talkative and transparent traveling companion only since 2007. We're both working on ourselves and on our relationships and we've got a long way to go. But we're moving in a positive direction.
We reach his stop, he's up from his seat, down the stairs, out the door and disappears into the early evening light. We've exchanged email addresses and will stay in touch. It's been quite a day and conversation.
Where would I be without the 5:04 westbound?
We both enjoy jazz legend Pat Metheny. I'll recommend one of his newest albums, "The Way Up," only after you give a listen to "Letter From Home," or "Still Life Talking." I recommend the DVD release over the audio CD performance; it just seems to have more of a hook. It may be the visual stimulation, perhaps the performances are slightly different.
I guess the thing that really connected us is the desire to have personal and family priorities in order, recognizing that life isn't all about accumulating a lot of stuff, but having things reasonably right on the home front. Lest anyone think that because we work on priorities is making us perfect, think again. I've been married a little over 35 years, my talkative and transparent traveling companion only since 2007. We're both working on ourselves and on our relationships and we've got a long way to go. But we're moving in a positive direction.
We reach his stop, he's up from his seat, down the stairs, out the door and disappears into the early evening light. We've exchanged email addresses and will stay in touch. It's been quite a day and conversation.
Where would I be without the 5:04 westbound?
Thursday, October 02, 2008
After Summer Reading Thoughts
So here I sit this morning, hashing and re-hashing the contents of my mind, poised somewhat differently than six months ago.
Summer reading, for some people a cornucopia of new and not so new novels, celebrity bios, and sundry stuff, has taken its toll on my conscience and perspective. I feel like some things have come together; that I've had time to re-think some rather heartfelt, if not totally well thought out, views.
The books: the afore referenced "Nixonland." The second, "They Marched Into Sunlight," by David Marannis, Vincent Bugliosi's "The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder," and lastly, "In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam," by former Defense Secretary Robert McNamara.
The first was eye-opening and enlarged on some general history - it's indispensable and I highly recommend it. Not a history buff? Learn how to be one via this massive volume. Have any passion about the day and time you live in? Maybe through this book you'll see that what goes around comes around, there is nothing really new under the sun, and those that don't remember history are condemned to repeat it, and that passion kindled may require a shifting of priorities. Yes, your iPod Nano is very cool; the blackberry indispensable for communication, but your brothers, cousins, loved ones, neighbors, and former playmates from down the street are dying in a war several thousand miles away. I heard a variation of that last sentence 40 years ago.
"They Marched Into Sunlight," will tear your heart in pieces; the suffering of the 1967 C-Packet guys deployed to South Vietnam nothing but wretching. In a quick instant they were gone in a Viet Cong ambush, their parents and families never quite the same afterward as evidenced by the mother of one dead solider who never again celebrated a holiday or observed a birthday. Another's children were raised only knowing their father as a hero in a book or by those who served with him. For the moment, the morality or immorality of the War doesn't matter. If Vietnam was a hideous and horrible error in judgment, it was played out on the ground by a bunch of guys who were doing their duty regardless of the cost or their respective political viewpoint. The men in foxholes didn't have time to debate intelligence estimates, they were fighting for their lives. 58,191 total were lost to the conflict.
That same October, in Madison, Wisconsin, student demonstrations against the Dow Chemical Company's recruitment program were in high gear, and with them the ascendancy of Paul Soglin from demonstrator to mayor of Madison six years later. Spoiled, wealthy kids who were anxious to set the university's academic atmosphere on its heels? Hardly. These young people were showing passion with the same intensity and vision as the C-Packet brigade in Vietnam. I like to think that both sides were fighting, more or less, for the same thing.
These separate accounts have moved me in many ways, some of them very hard to describe. Perhaps one of those movements has been one to empathy - putting myself in the place of both camps - the jungle fighter, the street fighter, what they believe in, why they believe, and what both are willing to sacrifice in pursuit of those beliefs.
Read the book; think about it, discuss it with others who have read it, and parallel its message to more contemporary times and conflicts. What have we learned in forty years? What have we discovered about passion and a well thought-out modus operandi to bring passions and visions to something tangible, that will make our lives and the world better?
Vincent Bugliosi ("Helter Skelter") offers that President George W. Bush should be tried for the murder of over 4,000 American lives lost in Iraq in the New York Times bestseller, "The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder." A compelling and page-turning read, this book focuses on the enormity of poor decisions, outright deception, and the tragic aftermath of the war games being played in the Middle East. If there is any passion (there's that word again) in today's world of journalism, you'll find it here; agree, disagree, whatever. He makes an earnest case.
"In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam," Robert McNamara discusses our involvement in Vietnam from the days of military advisers sent to the country in the early 1960s to his resignation in 1968 after arriving at a stalemate with the administration, LBJ in particular, over the war's progress - or the lack of it - and what continued involvement would cost the United States in economic, political, and most of all, human terms.
Facts, opinions; could've, should've, would've. . . .
Now, how has it all affected me?
I guess I've learned again what grace is all about. It's not that I feel less passionate about what happened and what I think was the best course of action, feelings that were shared by many of my generation, but what to do with that passion now. Ther's enough blame to go around and most have now historically claimed their share of it. Pointing fingers of accusation do little good at this point and certainly aren't going to fashion a new outcome to a war 35 years afterward. Many of the principals have vanished from the scene, the jungles of Vietnam are quiet, snakes slither through the grass, and the heat and humidity are still as much a part of the region as it ever was. It virtually knocked you down, said returning veterans. The warriors have come home except for those still missing in action. We're paying for the war in many ways, but not to belabor that point, it's a given and we're all to familiar with that fact.
The times and the situations were not fair, and the phrase, although true, resounds four decades after weapons have been laid down: poor men's sons fought a rich man's war. But, I guess I've learned that fairness is not part of a fallen world. The people involved made decisions, some bad, some good, and many indifferent. Fairness and maturity demand me to cut some slack to those persons because I cannot imagine what they went endured, but I can grieve with them.
I've mellowed, I've grown, and have found an almost new sense of compassion. What's happened is not the fault of one individual, but of many people. From here on, it's up to me to be an entity of healing, and not division, to understand and empathize, not judge. I'm thinking this was a summer of personal renewal in some ways, where grace again found its way to my heart, a heart that had pretty much made its made up that my way of thinking was the way it really was.
Summer reading, for some people a cornucopia of new and not so new novels, celebrity bios, and sundry stuff, has taken its toll on my conscience and perspective. I feel like some things have come together; that I've had time to re-think some rather heartfelt, if not totally well thought out, views.
The books: the afore referenced "Nixonland." The second, "They Marched Into Sunlight," by David Marannis, Vincent Bugliosi's "The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder," and lastly, "In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam," by former Defense Secretary Robert McNamara.
The first was eye-opening and enlarged on some general history - it's indispensable and I highly recommend it. Not a history buff? Learn how to be one via this massive volume. Have any passion about the day and time you live in? Maybe through this book you'll see that what goes around comes around, there is nothing really new under the sun, and those that don't remember history are condemned to repeat it, and that passion kindled may require a shifting of priorities. Yes, your iPod Nano is very cool; the blackberry indispensable for communication, but your brothers, cousins, loved ones, neighbors, and former playmates from down the street are dying in a war several thousand miles away. I heard a variation of that last sentence 40 years ago.
"They Marched Into Sunlight," will tear your heart in pieces; the suffering of the 1967 C-Packet guys deployed to South Vietnam nothing but wretching. In a quick instant they were gone in a Viet Cong ambush, their parents and families never quite the same afterward as evidenced by the mother of one dead solider who never again celebrated a holiday or observed a birthday. Another's children were raised only knowing their father as a hero in a book or by those who served with him. For the moment, the morality or immorality of the War doesn't matter. If Vietnam was a hideous and horrible error in judgment, it was played out on the ground by a bunch of guys who were doing their duty regardless of the cost or their respective political viewpoint. The men in foxholes didn't have time to debate intelligence estimates, they were fighting for their lives. 58,191 total were lost to the conflict.
That same October, in Madison, Wisconsin, student demonstrations against the Dow Chemical Company's recruitment program were in high gear, and with them the ascendancy of Paul Soglin from demonstrator to mayor of Madison six years later. Spoiled, wealthy kids who were anxious to set the university's academic atmosphere on its heels? Hardly. These young people were showing passion with the same intensity and vision as the C-Packet brigade in Vietnam. I like to think that both sides were fighting, more or less, for the same thing.
These separate accounts have moved me in many ways, some of them very hard to describe. Perhaps one of those movements has been one to empathy - putting myself in the place of both camps - the jungle fighter, the street fighter, what they believe in, why they believe, and what both are willing to sacrifice in pursuit of those beliefs.
Read the book; think about it, discuss it with others who have read it, and parallel its message to more contemporary times and conflicts. What have we learned in forty years? What have we discovered about passion and a well thought-out modus operandi to bring passions and visions to something tangible, that will make our lives and the world better?
Vincent Bugliosi ("Helter Skelter") offers that President George W. Bush should be tried for the murder of over 4,000 American lives lost in Iraq in the New York Times bestseller, "The Prosecution of George W. Bush for Murder." A compelling and page-turning read, this book focuses on the enormity of poor decisions, outright deception, and the tragic aftermath of the war games being played in the Middle East. If there is any passion (there's that word again) in today's world of journalism, you'll find it here; agree, disagree, whatever. He makes an earnest case.
"In Retrospect: The Tragedy and Lessons of Vietnam," Robert McNamara discusses our involvement in Vietnam from the days of military advisers sent to the country in the early 1960s to his resignation in 1968 after arriving at a stalemate with the administration, LBJ in particular, over the war's progress - or the lack of it - and what continued involvement would cost the United States in economic, political, and most of all, human terms.
Facts, opinions; could've, should've, would've. . . .
Now, how has it all affected me?
I guess I've learned again what grace is all about. It's not that I feel less passionate about what happened and what I think was the best course of action, feelings that were shared by many of my generation, but what to do with that passion now. Ther's enough blame to go around and most have now historically claimed their share of it. Pointing fingers of accusation do little good at this point and certainly aren't going to fashion a new outcome to a war 35 years afterward. Many of the principals have vanished from the scene, the jungles of Vietnam are quiet, snakes slither through the grass, and the heat and humidity are still as much a part of the region as it ever was. It virtually knocked you down, said returning veterans. The warriors have come home except for those still missing in action. We're paying for the war in many ways, but not to belabor that point, it's a given and we're all to familiar with that fact.
The times and the situations were not fair, and the phrase, although true, resounds four decades after weapons have been laid down: poor men's sons fought a rich man's war. But, I guess I've learned that fairness is not part of a fallen world. The people involved made decisions, some bad, some good, and many indifferent. Fairness and maturity demand me to cut some slack to those persons because I cannot imagine what they went endured, but I can grieve with them.
I've mellowed, I've grown, and have found an almost new sense of compassion. What's happened is not the fault of one individual, but of many people. From here on, it's up to me to be an entity of healing, and not division, to understand and empathize, not judge. I'm thinking this was a summer of personal renewal in some ways, where grace again found its way to my heart, a heart that had pretty much made its made up that my way of thinking was the way it really was.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Random Thought
This has been an interesting week - during a storm our walnut tree in the middle of the back yard, came crashing down. Two days later, Brett Favre signs with the New York Jets. Is this just a coincidence, or is Christ about to return?
God Bless Green Bay. . .
God Bless Green Bay. . .
Friday, August 08, 2008
Blind Faith
No, I'm not talking spirituality, but a great album from 1969 - yes, that's right, 30 years ago - three decades in other words. The group had one album titled, "Blind Faith." Is that original or what? Group members: Eric Clapton, Steve Winwood, Rick Grech, and Ginger Baker. Best tracks: all of them. Listen to this one loud, very loud; it's a 35 minute time machine. The first time I ever laid eyes on this recording it was laying on the dashboard of a 1969 AMC Rambler American SC/Rambler that had a 390 V8 and a Hurst T-handle shifter. Sweet stuff. The format was 8-track stereo and the player was a factory install. How much better can things get?
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