Practically My AARP Application

Someone who knows me very well once said that I was middle-aged when I was 9 years old. That's probably not the most flattering thing anyone ever said about me... but nonetheless pretty hard to argue against. I mean, it's not like I was born wearing a 3-piece suit or anything -- but if you look hard at the sonogram you might see the outline of a tiny bow tie.

Given that, you can see what I'm fighting against as the years advance and the hair retreats, or at least redistributes itself to some unpredictable locations. I don't want to be the proverbial get-off-my-lawn guy, but I can't much help myself; even when I was a teen I was trying to keep the neighbor out of my yard, and she was gorgeous, so I clearly can't help myself.

Adding another layer to the issue, I have to confess that Halloween has never held much appeal for me. The costume takes something of a creativity factor (and/or a thick wallet), not exactly up my alley; the whole atmosphere of the holiday is built around a certain enjoyment of the macabre and creepy, which is completely incomprehensible to me; and what's up with walking up to a stranger's door and asking them for candy? I've been known to visit friends and be unable to ask where the bathroom is, so again this holiday is not designed for me. And, to complete the woebegone picture of the little kid as sort of accountant-in-waiting, as a kid I (somehow) didn't have that much interest in candy (now? Yes, please).

This doesn't really fit anywhere, but let's pause a moment to consider the genius of wearing one of those thin nylon bodysuit costumes in an area where the average low temperature on Oct. 31 is 35 degrees. Nothing says 'superpowers' like a parka and mittens.

Why do I go through this elaborate setup? Because I'm incapable of doing otherwise. Well, that, but also I know how this is going to sound. Complaining about Halloween Nowadays is going to come off like the usual Why in my day everything was fun and innocent and these kids today just don't know how good they've got it and whatever happened to simpler values and and and....

My real point, however, if I haven't already run out the clock on having one, is that while I've never really 'gotten' or especially enjoyed Halloween, it's way worse now than it was. It wasn't much fun then, and it's considerably less fun now.

I know I'm hopelessly square and old -- I got an excellent head start on coming to terms with that, as a child -- but what I see around me is mostly just disgusting. I get that the white sheet with the eyeholes is Charlie Brown-passe, but so many of the costumes I see now have to look like the wearer is actually bleeding, or decaying, or at least getting ready to kill a bunch of people. Several of the kids at the Cub Scout Halloween party -- Cub Scouts, now, say ages 6-12 -- had some sort of zombie-looking garb AND semi-automatic weapons. I suppose with as slowly as the traditional zombie moves, it pays to have something to even up the odds a little.

In that case, I guess I should congratulate the costumes that don't require a parental advisory sticker, except a lot of those aren't costumes at all. I saw a couple of young-teen girls just wearing what appeared to be kitty ears. Get your mind out of the gutter; I don't mean just kitty ears in the sense of 'kitty ears and nothing else at all', I mean it in the sense of, "Let's put on our coats and go out to scam some candy -- hey, look, put these on your head so we can say it's a costume."

But they make up for it with their charm and personality. A big clump of them comes up & rings the doorbell; when you open the door, they shove a pillowcase in your face and stand there till you come across. I have to say it does not exactly bring out the gracious host in me.

Sigh. I know. I KNOW. They're just kids, and scary can be fun, and they're just trying on roles as kids have done forever, and I shouldn't expect everyone to have perfect please and thank you manners, and I'm probably the last person in the world who should be criticizing others for leveraging opportunities for free food. And I should stop being such a study hall monitor already. I guess I was just hoping that we could get all excited, and drop money on costumes and giveaway treats, and tromp around in the cold and rain, for something a little more... life-affirming?

OK, I have to admit, it wasn't a total loss. We were still making the rounds when my daughter dug around in her pumpkin-shaped bucket and pulled out and handed to me... a tiny, tiny (TINY! I believe it was the 1.74 oz. size, or maybe 6 pieces) bag of Peanut M&Ms.

Rolle with the Changes

All around us are some of the traditional features of spring: the lilacs are blooming, we've had the windows open, both my favorite (real) team and my fantasy baseball team are floating gently to the bottom of the standings (note: this last has only been "traditional" for the past couple of years). Another common May sight is the new college and grad school graduates sallying forth on the job search, armed only with their most-recently-written work of fiction -- their resumes.

We have a young friend just getting her Master's who's in the throes of the struggle as we speak. I suspect that she, like others of us, is pondering how close she has to get to her degree-field so that the degree won't feel like a total waste!

Not that I'm in any respect qualified to give career advice. I've been out of college for 27 years (give me a sec to recover from having typed, and realized, that) and in that span of time I've worked full-time for a total of less than four years. The most recent period of part-time work has been totally by my choice; but still, from a resume standpoint that's a little scary.

As a hopefully ex-jobseeker myself (I realized today that my job, which started in 1997, has been around longer than my home or my kids or my cars... or anything outside my marriage. This is a good thing because, as challenged as I am with change in general, nothing highlights my shortcomings quite like looking for work), I've taken a keen interest in the trials of others -- but my attention was piqued by the story of Myron Rolle.

Myron played football at Florida State University and was a star defensive back, and was thought to be a top pro prospect, likely a first-round choice in the NFL draft. Like many college football players, he actually graduated before his playing eligibility expired, and like many players he enrolled in graduate school.

The difference in this case was that instead of taking grad courses in physical education, Myron went to Oxford University as a Rhodes Scholar... and he didn't do it to extend his football career but instead gave up his last year of football to do it.

Rolle perhaps doesn't fit neatly into the football player pigeonhole. It goes without saying that he's very bright -- his ultimate goal is to become a doctor -- and that doesn't necessarily work smoothly with football culture, where the credo tends to be "tackle now, ask questions after you blow out your ACL". And in addition to his academic pursuits, he's also had some philanthropic achievements through the Myron L. Rolle Foundation.

So when he returned from Oxford after his time abroad and submitted his name for the NFL draft, there was a lot of discussion. Some questioned whether taking a year off from football indicated he wasn't sufficiently committed to the sport, and there were also fairly audible whispers that maybe someone that intelligent was not all that safe a bet in a coach-driven, follow-the leader world (where it must be said, there's virtue in taking orders, acting as one, not thinking for yourself).

And so it went that on draft day -- although because of the growing interest in the draft, and consequent TV-ification, there are now THREE DAYS of draft day -- Myron was actually chosen on the third day. In the 6th round, the 207th player chosen. In a spot where (and I'm asserting this entirely without proof, but also without much fear of contradiction), there were chosen ahead of him some guys with "records" of a less academic nature, and other guys who wouldn't have gotten into college at all without football, but very likely few with charitable foundations. Zero Rhodes Scholars, that much is indisputable.

For a lot of reasons I'm predisposed to feel like the guy got the short end of the stick; I flatter myself that I know what it's like to be looked down upon because of intelligence (although truthfully I suspect that my classmates might have seen me as odd for, ah, multiple reasons). And he clearly is a sort of Renaissance man (in a literal sense you don't see too often). I wonder, though, whether it isn't actually a wise move not to choose him higher. A high NFL draft choice is an investment of money, sure; but just as much it's an allocation of resources that can lead to disaster if it doesn't pay off in a long-term asset.

And of course, what you have here is the living embodiment of the cliche, "He can do anything in the world he wants to do." I can see why you might not want to bet the farm on someone who might decide in 2 years to quit and go to med school, or do charity work in the Third World, or... who knows? In fact, you could make the argument that the greatest good for the greatest number would be achieved if all the teams passed on him and let him get to work making contributions to more than just the Cover-Two defense.

Running the Four Corners

When I was a kid -- you know, in the days before ESPN -- I'd end up watching whatever sports event did show up on TV, and I enjoyed most of what I saw. Somehow, though, in those days I never got too interested in college basketball.

One big reason was named Dean Smith. He was the coach of the University of North Carolina basketball team, and he was famous for a strategy called the Four Corners. Basically, whenever his team got ahead late in the game, every time they got the ball they'd hold it as long as they could. Eventually.................. I'm sorry, did I doze off? eventually someone might get open for a layup, but if not he was content to just let all the time run off the clock.

At some point, everyone realized that this tactic was really against the spirit of the game (and boring), and a rule was passed that the team with the ball had to shoot within 40 seconds (later 35).

Stall tactics were back in the news recently with the story of Roman Polanski, the film director who pled guilty to a rather unpleasant crime in 1977, but fled to Europe before sentencing. A couple weeks ago he was captured in Switzerland and the process has begun to have him extradited to the US to face justice.

I don't generally comment too much on the news in this space; this blog doesn't exist for the purpose of antagonizing people or shoving my views down their throats. But there has been much blather (oops, did I tip my hand there?) in the press, much of it prompted by the Moral Compass of Our Nation -- Hollywood celebrities -- about how we should leave the man alone because he's suffered enough already. One French official even chimed in that America should stop persecuting such a gifted artiste.

Now I can see how it would be difficult, even wearing, to move to the country of your birth. And continue pursuing your livelihood without interruption. And travel around Europe to various film festivals to receive applause and awards. So perhaps we can agree that reasonable people might disagree about how much Monsieur Polanski has suffered; then let's add in one more inconvenient fact:

He's still a criminal.

Most crimes have a beginning point and an ending point, but since he's a fugitive from U.S. justice, every day he didn't surrender himself to authorities was itself a felony. Remember, no "innocent till proven guilty" like your common street criminal: being a fugitive proves itself.

In that sense, he's piled up over 10,000 crimes since he was convicted -- so I'm afraid I have to come down on the side of "No, he hasn't suffered enough". I still don't believe it's fair to run out the clock.

Nostradamus and Me

When I was a bit younger, the National Enquirer and Jeane Dixon had a little thing going. It seemed like every week -- and I am measuring this from checkout-line exposure, not actual reading; the NE is perhaps the only English-language publication I've never subscribed to -- there was a big headline touting Ms. Dixon's latest revelations of what lay ahead for us all.

It also seems that whatever else happens in the twice-yearly reorganization of the local newspaper, the horoscope column is a cornerstone of the local News Dissemination Effort (not sure why you need a subscription to the paper if today's edition tells you what happened yesterday and what's going to happen tomorrow).

It turns out that you've all been wasting your time, although hopefully not your money; I can't quite imagine a reader of this space going to a palm reader (although I'll probably find I'm woefully naive on that score).

All you have to do is read this blog.

All The Rage these days is the discussion of "public civility", due in large part to our friends Rep. Wilson, Ms. Williams, and Mr. West. But you know, if you are a regular visitor to this very page, you should have seen this coming -- almost four years ago. Because some of you hate links, and because I can make an entirely new blog entry out of something I already wrote, I'm going to reprint the post here in its entirety. Below, my 12/21/05 entry (my third post ever!) entitled "Motivational Speech":

I belong to an e-mail list made up of a number of ministers and laypeople in my area. Most of the time (like most people, I suspect) I just lurk. A couple of years ago, however, a topic came up I couldn’t stay out of… no matter how hard I tried.

Never mind what the issue was; as the mails & responses progressed, it became clear that the Majority Opinion was at odds with mine. This did not surprise me – and it also eliminated any temptation I had (at first) to get involved in the discussion. I know I’m in the minority, so I saw no need to “out” myself as an oddball.

Gradually the tone shifted from “we’re right” to “they’re wrong”. After that there were assertions that anyone who disagreed was trying to take over the church for their own nefarious purposes.

Can you see what happened here? It’s not enough for me to be right; my position has to be the one that any right-thinking person would take. In fact, it’s not enough for me to disagree with your conclusions – even your motives must be called into question.

I got a strong sense of déjà vu not long ago, watching the news: the President and some of his administration began accusing anyone who dares to criticize the war policy of being unpatriotic and of aiding the enemy. I notice that they backtracked from that position pretty quickly, but it’s clearly not an accident that several people close to the Administration said pretty much the same thing at the same time.

In the case of the e-mail thread, I finally did post. I didn’t bother trying to defend my position, or even explain it – I’m sure everyone drew instant conclusions as to what “side” I was on. My point was, I may disagree with you 100%, and I may battle tooth and nail to see my viewpoint become the accepted wisdom… but I will not commit the error – the sin, if you prefer – of assuming that anyone who disagrees with me has questionable motives. A civilized society, not to mention a church, can’t survive that way.

Papa Song

I suppose it's possible my sense of humor has changed over the years -- although this is never not funny:
but I recall a song that, when I was in college, always had me & my roommate in stitches. It was called "Papa Song", by Phil Keaggy, and what made it funny was the voiceover at the beginning of one of his small children saying "Papa!"

Yeah, I know, I just read that over & it didn't make much sense to me either. The kid did kind of sound like he was weaned on helium, and we always giggled -- in fact, many nights we'd just play that few seconds of the song before we went to bed. I suppose "you had to be there, and also then, and maybe even me" doesn't quite cut it in print.

In any case, as a companion piece to my Mother's Day post (there's still time to send the link to your mom as a special post-Mother's-Day remembrance, if you haven't already!), I'm thinking about dads as the big day arrives. You know, the day where everyone makes a big deal out of dads and there are gifts and dinner out and... well, maybe not. I'm not sure Father's Day is quite as much of a big deal; sometimes it seems a bit like an afterthought to me. I already wrote about this a few years back in my trademark snarky/whimsical style, but since it's summertime I'm in reruns.

I was out shopping for the card for dad this week (observing my own card rules & regulations as laid out in the Mother's Day post), and I noticed a curious theme. Mother's Day cards, of course, are all about "Mom, we love you so much and you're so wonderful and you bring joy to our lives".... all very valid & commendable sentiments.

Many of the Father's Day cards, on the other hand, seemed to cluster around this idea: "Dad, even though you find it hard to say how you feel, we know you really love us." In fact, the ones from sons read more like this -- "Dad, even though we never talk about our feelings, I hope you know I love you."

I've always led the charge against this kind of male stereotype -- and I'm well aware that "Hallmark" comes from the Latin, meaning "cliche" ... but I'm a little hesitant to start painting the picket signs just yet. I'm also aware that cliches get to be cliches from a basis in fact, and maybe I've just seen this scenario actually happen too often in real life to automatically dismiss it as slander.

All I can do is work against it in my own house. I make no claims to parental excellence; I just try to control what I can control (which, believe me, does not always include any of the other residents here): I try to make sure I know my kids better than anyone else in the world, and I let them know every day, a bunch of times a day, exactly how I feel about them.

And, you know, probably 73% of the time or more, that's a good thing.

M Is for...

In American culture, there are all sorts of traditions around Mother's Day. For those of us in geographical proximity to mom, brunch seems quite common, and the local restaurants oblige with high-priced spreads (I saw one place that advertised Mother's Day Brunch and Drink Specials, just in case your family tradition includes getting Mom hammered). Hallmark, of course, is founded upon this kind of occasion -- and it's important to go for the real thing. If you send Mom an American Greetings card, all you're doing is saving yourself the ink for writing inside, "Hi Mom, I threw this in the cart while I was at the grocery store!" And if you use one of the "funny" American Greetings, you weren't at the grocery store, you were at the dollar store (Don't even get me started on those 99-cent cards... which send the clear message: "You haven't changed my old bedroom into an office yet, have you, mom??").

When in doubt, go for Hallmark: the ones that are about as big as a manila envelope, with a flower on the front and that translucent "cover page" on the front. If it has a paper insert inside the card with the words printed on it, so much the better.

Anyway, those of us in the church will recognize another Mother's Day tradition: the mom-centered anthem (this was not quite what I had in mind, but apparently it was for Google). They are usually, let's say, not quite as musically exemplary as the anthems for the week before and the week after. This year's selection here was probably a cut above the average: Honor Thy Father andThy Mother, from a composer I generally enjoy.

It got me thinking about what that phrase -- well, it's not just a "phrase", I guess -- really means. Obviously first it means exactly what the casual reader would suppose: be respectful to your parents. Treat them with honor, and even assume that they know what they're talking about (this is one I'd especially like to impress on my daughter; her default response when I say anything factual to her is "No!" This is age 6, so I'm not really looking forward to 14 or so). Twain said it a long time ago... or maybe not.

But especially for those of us who have gotten past the Teenage Retort stage, I think there's a wider view: honoring your parents also means bringing honor to the name they passed on to you, making sure that the way you live your life and the decisions you make reflect well on them -- even if they're not really getting the credit/blame any more.

And even if you can't fit it into a manila envelope.

Tell Me What I Want to Hear

There's something about political season that always brings out the curmudgeon in me. Last fall I made a sardonic comment, if you can imagine me doing so, about how the political season would be resuming in mid-January. I thought at the time that I was only indulging my penchant for amusing, yet harmless, hyperbole... but then our U.S. Senator got kicked upstairs. So we went through weeks of search, only to have our Congressperson promoted in turn.

Now we're engulfed in news stories and ads leading up to the special election in a couple of weeks. And of course, the new reality of political advertising is that it's all about burying the other guy. So we've been treated to the heartwarming spectacle of the young guy saying the old guy is just another political hack (and a liar), and the old guy saying the young businessman is too inexperienced and greedy (and a liar).

Let's see, what's missing from this picture? Nowhere along the way have we heard anything much about what we can expect each guy to do; the theme is, whatever you do, don't vote for the other guy. Strangely enough, the American electorate seems to be heeding the warnings. I think it's true that negative advertising works: when faced with the constant barrage of don't-vote-for-the-other-guy, voters have seemingly resolved not to vote at all.

I'm not kidding myself that much has changed throughout the nation's history. From what tidbits I know, political campaigns have been brutally personal since day one. But I still believe that a candidate who stood up and was truthful with the public, who talked about what can realistically be done, who shared real ideas, could get elected.

I don't want to hear that everything can be fixed in a couple weeks, because I know it can't. And I don't want to hear that the other guy's an idiot or a criminal, because (at least for the most part!) it's not true. I want a candidate to say: my opponent is a good person with the best interests of the country at heart; still, I believe s/he is mistaken about "X", and here's my better idea. At this point it's highly possible that I may vote for whichever guy comes out first with a positive message about himself.

In a way it reminds me of my favorite business philosophy. Another frequent news feature over recent months concerns businesses that have cut corners or even made up stuff in an effort to make more money. Of course, I've been part of the corporate world for more than 11 years now, and while the cynical view of corporate America is very popular, I have to say that I've never seen it. I work for one of the acknowledged top countries on the integrity scale; one of the proudest days of my career was a meeting with an executive several years back (before my little company got swallowed by the gigantic one, actually).

The exec stood in the front of the room and said, "We want to make a lot of money, and we need to continue to grow our income. The best way for us to do that is to produce the best product we can, and give our customers excellent service."

I suppose I'm starting to sound like next I'll be summoning the woodland creatures to help clean the house, but doesn't it seem like it ought to be possible to succeed in business, or politics, just by being yourself really really well, and doing it with integrity?

Now if you'll excuse me I have to run -- if I hurry, I can still catch that turnip truck I just fell off.

Decisions Decisions

Possibly no one makes more decisions in quite such a transparently public manner than a football coach. On each play, he must decide which players to use and which play to run, so every game is something of a referendum on the wisdom of his choices.

On the other hand, in modern football, the head coach has a phalanx of faceless assistants who share the responsibility -- in fact, a head coach is often thought to be a bit of a megalomaniac if he calls the plays himself (it's all about 'delegating' and 'managing', you know). Besides, even once the play is called, the quarterback may still change it if he has what he thinks is a better idea based on the defense he's looking at.

Contrast that with baseball -- as we know, the only true, pure sport and frankly the only one worth talking about or even giving much thought to -- where the manager holds the keys, or I suppose the steering wheel, solely in his own hands. He may consult a small group of advisers, but the manager makes out the lineups and carries out the pitching changes and determines the strategy.

Unfortunately, the inescapable flaw in his Master Plan is that he is then dependent on other, imperfect humans to carry out his will. If the pitcher throws a bad pitch, or a ball goes through somebody's legs, or a guy pulls a hamstring as he's rounding third, it's quite possible that a genius blueprint will fail to add anything to the 'win' column.

As a consequence, smart baseball people don't really judge a manager on whether he wins or loses (at least not on a day-to-day basis). You'll often hear the losing manager say, "Well, we had the gun loaded." Meaning: we got our best hitter to the plate with the game on the line, or our best pitcher against the other team's slugger; if our guy pops up, or the other guy hits a tough pitch out of the park... we can't control for results, just the process of making the decision.

And... may I suggest that that's a pretty good model for evaluating decisions in general -- our own, or others such as in the case of evaluating a political candidate (to choose a less than random example).

For me, the question is not, "Did the decision 'work'?" but rather, "Did the decision make the most sense given the available facts?" I might feel a wave of regret from a bad outcome... but I ought to be able to forgive myself if I made the decision the right way.

Likewise: in voting, we're choosing someone essentially to make decisions for us. It would be great to find someone who agrees with us in every respect, who would make all the decisions we'd make ourselves. Assuming we were smart enough to do so, but if I've been hearing the political rhetoric correctly lately, we should trust good ol' Joe Sixpack to be wiser than, you know, actual smart people.

Anyway, I've never found anyone running for office that I thought had the 100% perfect plan -- so the way I'm trying to evaluate now is to get a sense not of what decisions someone would make, but how he or she would make them. I'm looking for someone who's willing to surround himself (allow me to be pronoun-specific for the sake of simplicity) with smart people, people who don't necessarily agree with him down the line, listen to all their opinions, then put it together and make the call decisively.

I feel that a person of integrity and intelligence who's capable of using information to reach conclusions might be more valuable as a public servant than a person with nearly any defined set of convictions you could name -- left, right, or center.

Of course, even if worse comes to worst -- and you have to define that for yourself-- at least in two more weeks this 'election cycle' will be over (I could certainly write reams more about the political process... but on the other hand you could argue that I already have). Then we'll have 6 to 8 weeks of Christmas ads and Christmas specials, then about 10 days of vacation (or if you prefer, Bowl Season)... so that puts us to at least the middle of January before the first candidate declares for 2012.

Keeping in Touch

I tend to write a lot of these entries when we're at camp. I think that's because camp always gives me the sensation of being off the grid. Granted, we're not pitching a tent by a campfire -- in fact, when my father-in-law saw the place, he was affronted. "That's not a camp, it's a house," he said. I think he thought we were putting on airs. Trust me, it's a comfortable place, but not exactly HGTV's Dream Home.

We've got electricity and heat and running water and beds.... we even have a TV, even though we only get about 1 1/2 channels. I suppose what makes it feel so isolated, even rustic, is the absence of the constantly-ringing phone.

We had no way to be contacted at all until we broke down and got a cell phone; however, that number is pretty closely guarded. If I had my way, I'd only give it out written on rice paper, so anyone who had to call us could immediately swallow the evidence.

I just realized that might not matter, since a caller using his own cell phone would have the number stored... but I like the image in the last paragraph, so I left it in.

All that made me think (once again) about the state of communications in the present age. I'm well aware that (a) I obsess about this a little, and (b) when I get going on this subject, I sound like a survivor of the Spanish-American War or something. I'm not that old; every house I've ever lived in has had indoor plumbing -- although that was by no means a foregone conclusion for a preacher's kid growing up in the '60s.

I am, however, old enough to remember the days when you called someone on the telephone (which was a black plastic instrument with a heavy metal dial you had to spin just right to dial the correct number), and if they weren't home, it rang and rang till you hung up and tried again later. As I recall, that was a bit frustrating, but somehow we coped.

The next step was the answering machine. Now you didn't have to remember to call back. When the other person arrived home (or remembered to check the machine, anyway), they'd get your message and call you back. Or not, of course.

Then came the pager, which at least allowed you to let someone know immediately that you wanted to speak to them. Some of the folks at my wife's first church occasionally got frustrated that she wasn't home when They Needed Her, so they suggested she get a pager. You will not be surprised to learn that the thought of 24x7x365 availability did not fill her with joy, and she gracefully declined.

Now of course it's the cell phone era, so much so that even I, not a huge booster, am astonished when someone doesn't have one. Or for that matter, access to e-mail. I try desperately not to be a snob, but encountering someone who's not online -- or, saints preserve us, doesn't even own a computer -- makes me feel almost sorry for them.

I have a sense that I'm one behind, and that the BlackBerry is taking this to yet another level... but as you may know, by the time this house joins that revolution, it'll be something else.

So I don't know if any of us is that important, but somehow it feels like we're forced to be so much more available these days. This might sound like a Jane Austen novel or something, but back when my wife and I were engaged, we were separated the whole summer before the wedding; we kept in touch by ... writing letters. On paper, with a pen, stick a stamp on an envelope (some of you remember). You take it to the mailbox, you start the clock. Let's see: 2 days to get there, another couple for her to write a reply, 2 days' return trip, add one more for glitches -- I should hear back in a week. From the woman I love and can't wait to marry!

Contrast that to an incident this fall. I had to get a message to a friend, so I called her home, but I must have had the number garbled because it said it was disconnected. So I called her cell & left voice mail; but then I started to think, what if she doesn't check her cell? So I sent her an e-mail, too. Punchline? She called back 3 hours later... apologetic for keeping me waiting.

If you have anything to add, feel free to send it to my work e-mail, or our home e-mail, or my Yahoo account; call us at home (leave a message at the tone & we'll get back to you as soon as we can), or on our cell; or post it to my blog.....

The Opposite of A

First, a little housekeeping... as of Sunday we will be taking off on The Annual Family Vacation. Though I'm sure there will be something sidesplitting about spending a significant portion of the summer shuttling from van to rest area to motel room to fast-food place with two small children, I may very well be out of touch for a couple of weeks and unable to share with you my usual assemblage of wry observations. However, I promise I won't come home till I find something worthy to write about.

Anyway, before I go, I just wanted to point out what People Have Been Saying lately: it turns out I'm cool after all.

I have mentioned in the past (and if I hadn't, anyone who's paying attention would have figured it out anyway) that in high school I was voted Least Likely to Ever Be Described As Cool. And in the classic beat 'em/join 'em dichotomy, I basically decided to embrace my noncool (after all, it was good enough for Huey Lewis). But I may have to upend my worldview -- again -- as a result of a recent Newsweek article.

I have fun putting in the links, but I know you don't follow them, so let me summarize: recent movies/TV have made heroes, or at least leading men, out of guys the article calls Beta Males -- otherwise described as decidedly not Type-A.

I still remember many years back when the original round of articles came out in Newsweek and elsewhere about the "Type-A" personality: driven, perfectionist, success-oriented, workaholic. It didn't take me very many paragraphs to conclude they weren't talking about me.
I don't want to come off like a total goober; I'm certainly not the perpetually stoned, terminally lazy Slacker character favored in so many movies and TV shows in recent years. I was pretty successful in school and I've had a job of some sort for my entire adult life. I even do really have a few odd, almost random pockets of perfectionism that surface when even I least expect it. But under oath, I would be hard-pressed to declare myself a go-getter.

I have to admit that I ended up as a math major, and subsequently a math teacher, in large part because no more compelling idea came along. Then I spent a lot of years working part-time and filling in around the edges of my alleged career with a number of rather unglamorous "professions": meter reader, waiter, janitor, tax processing clerk. I understood intellectually that I probably had the ability to do something beyond stamping numbers on tax forms (hey, it's plenty complex: you do have to get the same number on the check as the form) but at the end of the day, we had money enough to live on and I didn't really know how to assemble a "career" out of the puzzle pieces I had in hand.

And I continued to muddle along -- for about eleven years -- until I decided to make a break for a new profession. And now I'm semi-established as a software engineer (OK, a programmer) but I'm still a little fuzzy on this whole career thing.

I work with people who are driven & focused, who can't wait for the next big assignment and opportunity to prove themselves. Many of them are smart and capable in ways that make me feel like I'm back in junior high, but that may be a subject for another day. They are concerned with Career Development and what they can do to snag that next promotion.

Me, on the other hand, I'm just happy to have a job. Some of that comes from all the years of not really having a job, or at least a consistent one... but for most of my life when the question came up, "Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" my answer has been, "Doing what I'm doing now." Is that a virtue -- the ability to be comfortable wherever I am? Or is it a fault -- a complete lack of vision/ambition?

I have ended up getting some promotions and even raises, more or less in spite of myself, but I still find myself somewhat amazed that I'm actually getting paid a respectable amount, and that people ask me questions expecting me to be an authority. I like to be able to answer (at least some of) the questions, and although I never asked for it I'm certainly not going to say no to the increasing dollars, but the money definitely doesn't drive me. Of course, being a... um... "Not-Type-A", I'm not sure "drive" is the right word anyway.

You Must Remember This

With as much talk as you hear about etiquette, you'd think we'd be a lot better-behaved society. Not only has Peggy Post taken over from mom Emily as the Manners Maven -- and what is it about passing down these crowns, anyway? What qualifies "Dear Abby's" daughter to be an advice columnist? Does Martha Stewart have kids? Rachel Ray better get at it!

Sorry. Tune in in about 30 years when my (3)7-year old takes over for me. Anyway, in addition to Peggy Post getting quoted in every news story about impolite behavior, we have a column in our paper called "Ex-Etiquette", written by two women -- one of whom is married to the other's ex-husband. I guess instead of "in-laws", they're "ex-laws". Or maybe "out-laws".

Update: Martha Stewart has a daughter, described as a "radio personality" -- for Martha Stewart Living Radio on Sirius. Be afraid... be very afraid.

With two youngsters around, we are of course pretty obsessed with manners ourselves. It's a little unfortunate, actually, since my 4-year-old has decided it's amusing and much less taxing to pronounce her L's as W's. I say "decided"; she's perfectwy... I mean perfectly ... capable of enunciation. Goodness knows she gets all kinds of practice. In any case, I spend a lot of time reminding her to say please, and then reminding her again that "please" has an "L" in it.

It's all part of teaching your kids to make you look good. No, what I meant to say is "teaching your kids to grow up to be people you'd want in your home if you weren't forced to let them live there." All right, what I'm trying to get at here is that if you want your kids to stand out from the crowd -- in the good way, not the "spiked purple hair & nose ring" way -- teach them some manners.

Clearly manners are like the weather. From the cashier who won't even look up to the guy who cuts you off in traffic to everybody and his brother talking on their cell phones through dinner, conversations with others, and funerals, etiquette is no doubt easier to spell than it is to observe in the wild.

As you might guess, like any truly good and heartfelt rant, this one is based in experience. A couple of weeks ago, I had the privilege of visiting the church where I was born (not literally, of course... but only because it was a Wednesday). As a preacher's kid, I spent a lot of time there in my first 3 years of life. Later, when I was in grad school and living nearby, it pleased me to the depths of my tradition-obsessed soul to attend there for 2 more years and be part of the same choir in which my parents had sung.

So I was equally tickled to be there again, and moreso because my wife had been invited to be guest preacher for the day. Over the course of the day I met, once more, some people who had been part of the church 20+ years ago during my last stint, and even some who were there my first time around. And when I spoke with them, what do you suppose is the first thing almost all of them said?

"You don't remember me, do you?"

Can we agree that the purpose of conversation is to foster goodwill and a sense of community between two people? Why, then, would you begin a conversation with the verbal equivalent of the duelist's glove slap?

Now this is by no means an isolated occurrence. Naturally, it's a staple of high school reunions; my 25th featured several instances of this gambit (ironically, most of the time by people who wouldn't have been caught dead speaking to me the first time around).

Last week my wife was also accosted in just such a manner at a funeral home by someone who followed up by saying, "I came to church on Christmas... I wore a purple dress." This was, as you can imagine, the very key that unlocked a virtual flood of memories. She always takes pains to memorize everyone who attends once, cross-referenced by occasion and color.

Look, rest assured that once you have jogged my memory a little, I will regale you with the many fascinating things I recall about you from That Special Time In Our Lives.... Till then, please remember that in my adult life, I've lived in 5 towns in 3 states, attended 7 churches, and had (gulp) 10 different jobs. So a little context, at least, wouldn't hurt -- have some pity on a guy.

Talk: Not So Cheap After All

It pains me deeply that I haven't posted in a couple of weeks... but I'm actually somewhat comforted to think that anyone who might read me regularly is probably just finishing the last mega-post anyway. The truth is, the hiatus was kind of unavoidable; the epic 3-part Orlando entry used up all my words and I had to wait for the new shipment to come in.

Unfortunately, I suspect someone screwed up the order -- it seems to be all words like "malfeasance" and "egregious", so it might have been intended for one of those political bloggers. At least it's clearly a blog-related batch: many of the words are misspelled and all the plural words seem to have sprouted apostrophes.

Anyway, even in my absence I have been thinking bloggy thoughts, and by a coincidence one of the major topics of discussion in the world as a whole was, in fact, words. How they can be used, who can use them, and what the consequences might be for using them.

Of course, I refer to the incident in which a certain radio Personality decided to use some, shall we say, "racially loaded" language, causing a prolonged bout of Analysis by all concerned, as well as a lot of people that really had nothing to do with it. I mentioned in my Orlando saga that I was at least blessed with 4 ESPNs in the hotel; what I didn't mention was that in thumbing through those channels, and the adjacent news channels, I was greeted by the face of the aforementioned Personality at seemingly every turn. Well, either him or a certain rotund (and orotund) fellow -- whom I also decline to name -- who I believe has been designated by the UN as Special Representative for Minorities and Oppressed Persons Everywhere. How else to explain why he turns up on my TV whenever Injustice is afoot?

OK, I'm being a bit arch just because I enjoy it, so let me be clear: what the Personality said was stupid and offensive and wrong (in perhaps more senses than one -- they look like any other basketball team to me), and he deserved to be punished. The furor, however, really stems from more than just the act itself.

First, this was an excellent opportunity for white America to leap up as one and proclaim, "We're not racists, oh no, not us." It's not like anyone is seriously going to try to defend the guy, so it's an absolute free shot for everyone who can claw their way in front of a microphone.

Second, since it was a sports-related story, it provided a chance for the sports networks to assert their journalistic chops, to prove they're not just the Toy Department of the television universe. So we saw wall-to-wall coverage (at least for the whole time I was in that hotel room).

Third, he was really living in the wrong time; this is an era where one of the most prized virtues is Political Correctness, so any comment that's stupid and cruel and offensive is always going to be raised to the level of a felony.

Interestingly, as a white middle class male -- not the "majority", exactly, but fairly privileged at least -- I have found that it's "my kind" that is the last acceptable target for ridicule. Last year Hefty advertised their One-Zip bags as being so simple, even a husband could use them. I actually sent them a protest e-mail; I said, I get the joke but I notice you don't advertise them as simple enough for Polacks or blondes. They did respond promptly, but basically said lighten up, it's a joke.

But of course, we've all gotten used to the Bumbling Dad/Husband from TV sitcoms and commercials. And I suppose it won't kill me... it would just be nice if we all stopped trying to look good at the expense of others. It would be egregious malfeasance not to.

Truth, Justice and the American Way

Here in the carefully-vague region of "Upstate New York" -- if I'm being overly cautious in revealing personal details, it's only because I'm trying to avoid the inevitable onslaught of paparazzi -- we've recently emerged from the sludge of Election Campaign Season. I've discovered that you can use all the Windex you want on your TV screen, but it's still hard to watch when the film of slime is coming from inside the set.

Our Congressional race was famed far and wide for the brutal, yet juvenile, tone of its advertising. I think most of us who have seen a few campaigns knew that the relatively unknown challenger had to kick up a bit of fuss to be noticed; incumbents have an enormous built-in advantage in money and recognition. And certainly, the incumbent had a few, ah... foibles... that merited discussion.

But I, at least, was a bit surprised when the Congressman avoided discussing his performance record and instead eagerly embraced the Politics of Personal Attack himself. In the end, I believe it was the insight thus gained into his personality, and not any debate over his past performance (or, for that matter, the worth of his challenger), that made the difference in his somewhat surprising loss.

In the interview after her victory speech, the Congresswoman-elect noted that the incumbent hadn't aired a single ad about his own record. This appropriately enough was, like much of what we'd heard for weeks upon weeks, "more-or-less" true -- true in spirit, at least. Full of what Stephen Colbert would call "truthiness": the essence of being or at least seeming true, without actually being what the dictionary might identify as "accurate".

So in the continuing pursuit of Truth, Justice, and the American Way... I have the general sense that perhaps Truth was not 100% victorious in this case (not that it would have been any more so, if the outcome were reversed). Justice? You tell me; as I said, I suspect the result was largely self-inflicted, so there's a certain karmic justice, at least, in that.

And what about the American Way? The sad fact is that I think this now is the American Way. Someone once said we get the campaigns we deserve, and I fear that's correct. The West Wing was popular at least in part because it allowed us to think we like our politics noble -- that we'd all rush to vote for a man of principle like Jed Bartlett. I'm not sure, however, that the electoral records of those few who have told us the truth about who they are and what they hope to accomplish are all that glossy. Not that we have that much data to go on. And honestly, how different was the tone of this campaign from the tone that society in general has taken in recent times (as I discussed quite some time ago)?

Not long ago, a bunch of reporters from newspapers all over (including our own) gathered to discuss the political campaigns they'd covered, and our paper did a story featuring some of the most telling/amusing incidents. One of the anecdotes related concerned the candidate who put out a glossy brochure featuring a photo of his All-American family (we're in favor of that, right?) -- down to and including the faithful family dog.

However, as the candidate subsequently admitted... he'd rented the dog, to make the photo look more All-American.

Gee, I wonder why we're having so much of a problem with voter turnout?

The Rare Dodo

I wonder sometimes if I’m the only one of my kind. Although I suppose everyone feels that way at times, I’m thinking mostly of the way our family works.

Gender roles have certainly shifted over the past … what, 30 years? However, you don’t always see that reflected in the media or in the way people think. Since our older child was born, I have been working part-time; when our daughter was born, I cut back further to half-time. My wife works full-time, so I am the primary caregiver for the kids. In fact, as a minister she has a lot of evening commitments, so that means extra responsibility for me.

Beyond that, food-related tasks have never been her forte, so I am also responsible for cooking and grocery shopping. And since I have less time committed to my job, I also do the vast majority of the laundry and dishes. The temptation, of course, is that anything that needs doing goes in my column (“since you only work part-time”), but I definitely resist it.

Hey, we’ve basically worked it out between ourselves in a way that (usually) works for us, but I still get the feeling that I’m a mutant in the eyes of “the world”. A few relevant examples:

• It’s a disorienting experience for a dad to read a magazine like “Parents” or “Parenting”. Or maybe I’m just expecting them to live up to their names. They really should be called “Moms” and “Mothering”, because there’s seldom any acknowledgement that dads are part of the equation. The articles that relate to dads are usually advising women how to get their tentative or just lazy husbands to take a more active role in raising the children (I’m thinking that the only way I could be more involved is to carry them in a pouch like a kangaroo).
• Some time ago I was running errands with the kids – which of course is the only way anything ever gets done around here. I popped them out of the car and we headed for the door of the bank. There was a bank guy standing outside the door smoking a butt; he kind of smirked at me and said, “Babysitting today, huh?” I always try to set an example of calm and reason for my children, so I didn’t hit him. I kept right on going, but as I passed him I said, “No, just being a dad.”
• It’s not just the parenting stuff either. I still get remarks sometimes when my wife has to go out of town for a few days – “Guess you’ll have to cook for yourself!”, or, you know, “How are you going to survive on your own?”

I don’t know, I can’t see into everyone else’s house. Maybe every other dad comes home from work, plops down with a cold one, and lets “the little woman” handle the kid stuff. And I certainly didn’t get into this setup to get other people to tell me how swell I am. I have learned, however, about the power of expectations... so if we hope for parents to be equal partners, maybe we ought to at least act as if it's theoretically possible.

Motivational Speech

I belong to an e-mail list made up of a number of ministers and laypeople in my area. Most of the time (like most people, I suspect) I just lurk. A couple of years ago, however, a topic came up I couldn’t stay out of… no matter how hard I tried.

Never mind what the issue was; as the mails & responses progressed, it became clear that the Majority Opinion was at odds with mine. This did not surprise me – and it also eliminated any temptation I had (at first) to get involved in the discussion. I know I’m in the minority, so I saw no need to “out” myself as an oddball.

Gradually the tone shifted from “we’re right” to “they’re wrong”. After that there were assertions that anyone who disagreed was trying to take over the church for their own nefarious purposes.

Can you see what happened here? It’s not enough for me to be right; my position has to be the one that any right-thinking person would take. In fact, it’s not enough for me to disagree with your conclusions – even your motives must be called into question.

I got a strong sense of déjà vu not long ago, watching the news: the President and some of his administration began accusing anyone who dares to criticize the war policy of being unpatriotic and of aiding the enemy. I notice that they backtracked from that position pretty quickly, but it’s clearly not an accident that several people close to the Administration said pretty much the same thing at the same time.

In the case of the e-mail thread, I finally did post. I didn’t bother trying to defend my position, or even explain it – I’m sure everyone drew instant conclusions as to what “side” I was on. My point was, I may disagree with you 100%, and I may battle tooth and nail to see my viewpoint become the accepted wisdom… but I will not commit the error – the sin, if you prefer – of assuming that anyone who disagrees with me has questionable motives. A civilized society, not to mention a church, can’t survive that way.