Category: current events

Nostalgia

Every once in a while, Netflix gets it right and they actually add a movie that I want to watch. Imagine my joy when I stumbled across one of my all-time favorite movies, George Lucas’s 1973 hit American Graffiti.

Where do I begin? The cast?
Ron Howard, six months before he would debut as Richie Cunningham on Happy Days. Cindy Williams 3 years before she became the infamous Shirley on Laverne and Shirley. Richard Dreyfuss. Mackenzie Phillips, Suzanne Somers, and Harrison Ford were all in their first big role. Add to the mix Wolfman Jack and you have a heluva cast.

The cars?
John Milner’s chopped ’32 Ford Standard coupe. Bob Falfa’s (Ford) badass ’55 Chevy Belair. The mysterious ’56 Silver Thunderbird with the porthole windows driven by Somers. Steve Bolander’s (Howard) cherry ’58 Impala. Oh man, for a Detroit muscle buff such as myself, it is a veritable wet dream.

The story?
It is 1965 Modesto California. It is a typical Saturday night and the locals are blowing off steam. Typical of the time, looking “cool” was the law of the land and, given the puritanical nature of the time, there was not much else to do except ride around in cars, go to arcades and sock hops, and create a harmless ruckus while driving around. We are introduced to the players; the too-old-to-be-hanging-out-with-teenagers guy with the hot car who is always being challenged to race. The local young people that have menial 9-5’s and live for the weekend. Gangs, car clubs, and packs of teenage girls defying Daddy for a few hours. Add to the mix that this is no typical Saturday night for a small group of teens, for it is the eve of them leaving for college the next morning. Relationships are called into question(should we see other people?), feet are getting cold as one promising student is thinking of not going. They are all grappling with change and fear of what the future will hold. I won’t ruin the ending for you other than the inevitable drag race ends up altering the plans of two of them.

It is a wonderful character study about fear and uncertainty. Of the familiar and the question of whether it is better to be comfortable or to try something new. All against the backdrop of 1960’s America.

And there it is, that is what I love about the movie. The era.

I was born in 1965. A mere 3 years earlier my mom and dad were likely in a similar scene. My dad was a car fanatic and he belonged to a club. He was an amateur stock car driver. He was also a bit of a hellion with that fast Lincoln of his. Cruising the strip, bantering with other drivers with my mom under his arm is totally conceivable. My mom telling him to slow down, not get a ticket or into an accident, and to have her home before her father “grounds her” is also very believable. They lived the movie. The two of them could have been dropped into the set of that movie and nobody would have blinked. The guy in the white tee shirt with the Camels rolled into the sleeve? That was my dad. The girl in the Pencil dress and sensible shoes? That was my mom.

I often fantasize about being a teenager back then. While they may have thought that they were pushing the envelope, we now know that their version is pale compared to today. It can almost be considered tame and wholesome. But they didn’t know that.

They also didn’t know what would happen just a few short years later. Vietnam would escalate. Draft cards were coming. Parents and authority figures, particularly parents, became the enemy as generations clashed. People would be forced to tune in or drop out. EVERYTHING would change soon for the innocent, harmless locals.

But there is always the movie. A reminder of a better time. A more innocent time. A time that ceased to exist not long after. Oh yeah, did I mention the CARS?

On associations

Even when I’m doing a good job of not dwelling on the past, it still rears its ugly head. If I had to guess, it is almost always in the form of association.

I came across the movie Johnny Dangerously on HBO MAX today. There really aren’t words to describe how much I love the movie. It’s just the slapstick, parody silly shit the doctor has always prescribed. I know every line. Of course I watched it.

So where does my mind go? Ernie.

Ernie is not his real name. I wouldn’t give up his real name. It’s a nickname and a funny one at that. His premature receding hairline and oddly shaped head gave him a striking resemblance to Ernie of Ernie and Bert fame. He was a good guy and, like everything else in his life, he rolled with the nickname. He never had it easy. Girls eluded him, he never got his shot at Stand-up Comedy, he lost his brother to a tragic suicide soon after High School, his relationship with his family was very complicated.

I was there for all of it. We were, after all, best of friends. After High School, we both attended the same College. I was a year ahead of him so I spent my Freshman year without my sidekick but once he arrived, goofy smile and Pork-Pie hat in hand, we were inseparable. When we weren’t in class, we were in the cafeteria, smoking, drinking coffee, and socializing. If we weren’t in school we were probably playing hooky and underage drinking in our favorite bar down the street.

I shared my difficult times with him also. When my relationship with my father took a bad turn, I stayed at his house many nights. I was very close to his family. They treated me as another son.

We leaned on each other and got through those times. Often with the aid of laughter. Never underestimate the power of a warped sense of humor. Comedy specials on HBO, cartoons and movies were our refuge. We shared a love for Bloom County. I think the lovable oaf Opus the penguin was a relatable character to us. We could quote both the cartoons and the movies line for line. And we did that a lot.

Johnny Dangerously was our favorite. Now, it brings back the sense of loss of how we drifted apart for so many years. Of not seeing him, along with the rest of the guys that I spent all of my time with in my late teens and twenties, since we all went the married with kids route.

And,of course, the shock and heartbreak of learning that he was recently arrested for sexually abusing his own son. My friend (can I still call him that?) is going to spend the rest of his life in jail.

Between the shock, disgust, anger and countless other confusing emotions, I still cling to the memories of a better time. Thanks to associations. Silly movies, in this case, stand for the good and the bad times alike.

The storm

the comforting pat on the head

Just when I thought the storm couldn’t get scarier, the Tornado Watch alert blasted from my phone. I have never been a big fan of Thunderstorms, I’m perfectly ok in admitting that I’m terrified of them, but this is my first Florida T-Storm and it is a beast. In NH, they can be severe but they pass quickly. Here, they come on strong and stick around way too long.

Today’s storm is a continuation of a serious system that came through last night. It flashed and boomed for hours. Just when we thought it was over another wave came through. It being my first real Florida storm, I was shocked at its intensity. But as uncomfortable as I was, and am right now, I am not upset or fearful. My dog, however, is not faring so well.

Sammy is not a shy dog and he is adaptable in most situations. He even tolerates gunshots when I am doing target practice in the yard. Thunder brings out absolute terror in him. It is loud to us, I cannot even begin to imagine what it sounds like to him with his advanced hearing. In addition, dogs (not nearly as brilliantly as cats BTW) can detect changes in atmospheric pressure. All of these factors combined equal a prolonged state of terror for the little guy.

I have been comforting him the best I am able. I have to restrain him by his harness but I do so without holding his neck. Between last night and this current wave, I have been petting and reassuring my wonderful little guy for hours. Occasionally he takes a second from the panicked behavior and turns to look at me. I can’t say for sure but he seems to be grateful for it.

Lean on me, buddy. I got you.

I am logging this today because it occurs to me that the time spent, as unpleasant as it may be, providing and comfort to another living, breathing, feeling creature with a soul, is a cherished moment. To give love unconditionally without seeking something in return is time well spent.

I only wish people felt as inclined to help each other in those moments of fear and uncertainty.

Waiting on a verdict

the accusation and the path of its destruction

I testified as a character witness today, via WebEx, for a friend accused of a terrible crime.

I learned about the accusation in 2017, when he asked me if I would be a character witness. I was on the spot and, despite my reservations and a desire to think about it first, I agreed. I would come to regret not thinking it through before answering. I was sickened by what he was being accused of. Inappropriate sexual conduct with his girlfriend’s daughter.
Would my testimony play a role in possibly setting free a predator, or worse, would I discredit a possible victim? Neither choice appealed to me.

The plan was to hope that it somehow would not go to trial and that it would go away on its own. I think we all know that ignoring a problem or hoping that it goes away seldom works. Imagine my reaction when I got the call from the public defender’s office 2 weeks ago. Since then I have been so very torn over what will happen, and of course what, if any, impact could my testimony have on the outcome.

When I spoke with the PD yesterday, as they prepped me for my testimony, it became clear to me that I was only required to answer questions about the time frame in which I lived with my friend. That time period was before the “incident” occurred. There would be no tricks, and it would not be as portrayed on television and in movies. I would merely testify to his character.

Today I did just that.

I heard the case they have prepared. It’s weak, there is no evidence, and I find the accusations completely inconsistent and unbelievable with what I know of his behavior.

I talked to him tonight. He was thankful for my testimony. He expressed gratitude for my friendship. He then told me, in no uncertain terms that he is hoping to see me soon. That is, of course, unless he is convicted tomorrow and brought directly to State prison. A place where he is certain he will be killed.

If he is convicted, and this sounds bizarre, I sure hope that he did it. Because his life is over already. He has lost everything over this accusation. There is simply no full recovery from this, even if found innocent.
The stakes have never been higher. It’s all on the line. His entire fucking life.

I guess we’ll know tomorrow.

Defending that which needs no defense

A trending news story today is regarding Heather Graham. In the article, she discusses her decision to not have children. What struck me, and simultaneously annoyed the shit out of me, was the tone of the article. She was portrayed as defending her decision. Why? Why does a woman, in this supposedly enlightened culture that professes equality for women, find herself in a position where she needs to defend her choice to not have a family? I hear the word “choice” thrown around an awful lot in matters of sexuality. Why is the choice to not utilize her reproductive system not given the same respect? If you choose to abort a child then you are championed and celebrated, but if you choose not to get pregnant at all you are villainized?

In the interview, Heather states, “I do feel like, as a woman, culturally, you’re not allowed to say, ‘I didn’t want to have kids.’ Because it’s like, ‘What’s wrong with you?'”.
Exactly. I have seen it culturally as well as with people that I know in which women, married or otherwise, have decided that they do not want to have children. I have seen the blowback. They are asked if something is wrong physically. If nothing is offered as physically wrong, then it is assumed that  the woman has something wrong emotionally.
Have you noticed that it isn’t the same with men? Heather further states, “I think as a man it’s like, ‘Oh yeah, cool, you didn’t want to have kids.” Why is that? I swear, and I hope that I’m wrong, that it is the regrettably not outdated notion that because you can, you should. How Catholic.

Ms. Graham further stated, “Now, women are getting freer to just make their own choices.” I hope she is correct. But to me it seems to be wishful thinking. Because in addition to the unnecessary physical and emotional scrutiny over a woman’s choice of whether to have children, they are additionally subject to something that men who choose not to be parents also must attend to.
The label of Selfish.
I’m surprised that Heather Graham didn’t get accused of that.

Selfish is one of those words that carry an unnecessarily negative connotation. Yes, one definition defines selfishness as being devoted to or caring only for oneself; concerned primarily with one’s own interests, benefits, welfare, etc., regardless of others.
Still, another is characterized by or manifesting concern or care only for oneself.

On the surface, both are worded a bit harshly. Particularly with the use of the words “regardless of others” and “oneself”. If you remove them what you really have is a person that tends to their own self-interest first. The first question that begs to be asked is what is so wrong with that!?
I am quite sure that the many people who choose not to take on the awesome responsibility, and burden, of raising children are doing so because they are focusing on their own lives. I say good for them.
Parenting is wonderful and rewarding. I am a father of 4 amazing kids. I love them more than anything. But raising them was 90% of everything I did, every choice I made, and every worry that I had. It was emotionally and financially exhausting. To do parenting right, that is how you need to approach it.
Well, what if your career aspirations, your finances, your educational goals, and your plan for your life don’t allow the time, commitment, love, and resources needed to have a family? What if you simply know that you can’t, or dare I say, don’t want to do it?

We have an obligation to take care of ourselves in this world. If you’ve ever been on a plane, the flight attendant tells you to put your own mask on before assisting others.

We are taught that we are here exclusively for others. I debate that, we should be allowed to choose to take care of ourselves at some point. It is a shame something so logical and essential needs to be defended.

Fairness

The other day I overheard a young woman loudly state, while involved in a heated conversation with what I can assume was her mother, that she deserves to be happy. She followed it up by emphatically stating that it is her “Constitutional right” to be so. I wanted to jump in so badly and offer that the pursuit of happiness is mentioned only in the Declaration of Independence and nowhere mentioned in the Constitution, that the only promise implied was the pursuit, and that it was only meant as an assurance from a young Country that it was committed to freedom for all individuals, without persecution, to pursue God-given (inalienable) rights, one of them being happy, which in and of itself cannot be guaranteed.

But common sense and experience prevailed. I inferred her age and concluded that not only would I not make any kind of meaningful impact on the conversation, but also that it is not entirely her fault. She was a twenty-something, a member of a generation that has been raised on validated feelings, cancel culture, banned history, and soft truths delivered in a manner as not to offend delicate sensitivities. I kept to myself, knowing that while I meant well, I would probably come across as an old fart dishing out unsolicited opinions. I could see how the conversation would go. I could even see the ending, the introduction of the concept of fairness.

This is where my concerns for today’s generation lie; the expectation or assumption that life is fair. In the great quest for equity on all fronts, somebody made the bold assumption that all things, including happiness, would be evenly distributed. They want life to be fair.
Newsflash: LIFE.IS.NOT.FAIR. Don’t expect it to be and you will never be disappointed.

I have had a hard life. Many challenges have risen to meet me on the road of life, and I have had my share of hardship. My life has been a struggle to say the very least. But that does not mean I haven’t experienced happiness. I have had many moments that I can recall, and they are etched in my brain. But they were brief and fleeting. In between those moments was everything else that I, and countless other people have to do every day.
Such as dealing with people and things that I did not want to but had to.
Working jobs that I hated because people depended on me and there was no plan B if I lost my job.
Biting my tongue and not punching the fucking shit out of somebody because I either worked for or with them, or I feared going to jail.
Facing the truth even when it was painful.
Allowing my children to feel hurt and sad because I knew that by fixing their problems for them, they wouldn’t learn anything.
I’ve had heartache, illness, financial problems, and relationship issues. There are so many examples, but I’ve made my point. I and countless others have survived all of those things and so much more and didn’t develop a victim mentality or lament the lack of fairness. If you get how life works, you do it because that is what life is: survival. Getting through all the crap in order to enjoy something, anything, that makes you smile…that’s happiness.

Chase it, create a healthy definition, and appreciate it when you have it. Know that you are not entitled to it. And don’t expect to be happy. Because life is not fair.

Question Everything

Question everything. That is where I am now. I do not know how it happened, but the way I look at everything seems to have changed lately. Two things come immediately to mind; it happened quite quickly, and I love what I am seeing. In short, everything is upside down and on its side. As Dr. Venkman so eloquently stated in Ghostbusters…

Things happen that way with me. I have epiphanies, moments in which my eyes suddenly open, my mind shifts, my vision becomes clear, and things suddenly make sense. Not always forever in some cases, but enough to enable insight and encourage change. My most recent epiphany is here to stay. It is not a fleeting thought or a passing fancy that serves to temporarily inspire or provoke thought. Instead, as a result, the world around me presents if I were a young child. A world in which everything is a new and exciting experience.
Somewhere, at some point in the last 6 or 8 months my understanding of countless aspects of life, my own and those of the wonderful world around me, shifted (morphed?) in such a way that I am questioning, with the intent to be and do better, my understanding and perception of everything. To name a few,
Relationships.
Friendships.
Politics.
People.
Family.
Conversations and events old and new.
The world around me and,
My role and purpose in it.

I find myself very motivated by what I am feeling. I feel like I am on the right track. In many ways, I feel like a different person. Where there once stood a man that, while mostly positive, was prone at times to see things in a very cynical and unproductive light, now stands a man that looks at every interaction, recalls every conversation, and replays every situation to assess if there is anything that could be learned from it and what could have been done better? It’s truly a liberating and exciting feeling to experience such an injection of emotional vitality and intellectual stimulation at a time in my life in which I was dreading stagnation and lack of interest in learning or applying anything new.

This, in conjunction with my current deep dive into the Stoic Lifestyle, is giving me the exact boost I desperately craved.
That’s enough for this post, but expect more (I do hope you read it and share it with me) as I share that which is in question, my old take vs the new, and the effect it will have on me as I continue to work towards “better”.

What does it matter,I still learned it

Before I got married I was at a cocktail party rubbing elbows with my fiance’s family. I was talking to a distinguished and clearly educated gent and the subject of the Korean Conflict somehow came up. Now, I did have a fair amount of knowledge on that because, like I said, I later educated myself. But there I stood, a pizza cook on the threshold of a potential conversational Armageddon. But I held in. Fortuitously, he came to an impasse in the discussion and was stuck on the parallel that the US military failed to cross, the one that would have been an act of war. I chimed in,
“That would be the 38th Parallel.” I was then complimented as being a smart young man. What he didn’t know is that I got that from the Rodney Dangerfield comedy Back to School.
I was reminded of that today as I was reading an excerpt from one of my favorite books, A Prayer for Owen Meaney. There is no shortage of reasons why I love the book, I have always been a sucker for a coming-of-age story and it’s a great one. The excerpt that caught my eye was dedicated to the birth of the all-time opiate of the masses, the Television (my apologies to Karl Marx), in which the narrator observes the progression of the power that the television eventually held in his home. He told of how his Grandmother, who was always staunchly opposed to TV finally caved, and how the grandson reluctantly fell under its spell as well. Our hero Owen Meaney, ever the virtuous one, chastised the Grandson for watching TV. At which time the Grandson defended it by offering how many ways that it was educational. Owen promptly dismissed this, his unsolicited opinion was that TV was a slovenly way to educate oneself.

I was amused and a little embarrassed when confronted with this. While I consider myself adequately educated, I have attained a fair amount of passable knowledge, some decent Trivial Pursuit-ish information as well as some solid nuggets of pop culture as well as high society through TV and movies.
Now, of course, TV was not educational in 1958, the time period in discussion. You watched what was available and a lot of it was garbage. It’s not a fair comparison to today’s Cable and streaming options that offer many educational options. Which I take advantage of. Despite even that… some of my greatest stories that deal with gaining “knowledge” through unlikely and slovenly sources occurred many years ago.

Most of my knowledge of Opera, Classical Music, American society during the Great Depression, Prohibition, wartime, etc., comes exclusively from Bugs Bunny cartoons. That’s right. “Kill the Wabbit” taught me about Opera.
In addition, most of my understanding of politics I can directly attribute to Berkeley Breathed and Gary Trudeau, of Bloom County and Doonesbury fame, respectively. As a skirt-chasing teenager (and young adult and well, forever) dedicated to doing the bare minimum, it was Bloom County and Doonesbury that piqued my interest in the news of the day as they lampooned politics and known as well as not-so-well-known cultural figures. Where else did I hear about the Anti-gay activism of Anita Bryant, the anti-feminist Phyllis Schlafly, the disappearance of known American atheist Madalyn Murray-O’Hair, the Televangelist scandals, the Contras and Sandanistas, the Star Wars antics of the Reagan era, I could go on but I won’t. Suffice it to say that otherwise boring (to me) subject matter and events were portrayed comically way or ironically and consequently raised my interest. An interest in being current and informed on the matters of the world, and in being able to take a humorous, even absurdist interpretation. In the case of Bloom County, the political landscape was portrayed often through Children and anthropomorphized naive but politically charged meadow animals. Think of a Hedgehog, a rabbit, and a Penguin having a caucus to nominate a dead cat for President.
That shit was funny!
And it had the right effect on me, it got me interested. Which fortunately led to a lot of self-education of the shit that I should have learned in High School.

Snob appeal, slob appeal. Whatever. Learning can come from many sources, highbrow and otherwise. What matters is that I learned something, and I received the added bonus of getting a good laugh in the process.

Slovenly” Perhaps. Effective? Absolutely.