". . . Everything that stops us being animals is eroding, washing away like sand, going and gone." stated by Mike "Scorcher" Kennedy, a character in Broken Harbor, a novel by Tana French, 2012.
One of my brothers thanked me this week for forwarding a scrap of nostalgia to him. That's one of the more endearing characteristics of social media. It can take us back to a less complex, more enjoyable time. We can be kids again for a couple of seconds. We can remember walking to church and school without seeing the bogeyman coming around every corner. And, as in the memory of Scorcher Kennedy, murder rarely happened in his environs. Much less did we have to fear terrorism on American soil.
I was having a chat with both my God, Jehovah, and Allah the other night, asking them if our religions couldn't peacefully coexist -- as well as have peace between all the great religions of the world. Why can't we just offer each other respect? Why must we always be at odds over the very part of our lives that should bring hope and tranquility?
Scorcher Kennedy said the first thing man did when he became human was to draw a line in front of the cave that said wild stays out. True. And the point Tana French seems to be making is we are going wild again.
Sure seems that way Ms. French. Sure seems that way! With all our social media, television and other means of learning how we live in different parts of earth, it would seem we should be aspiring to an improved world. Why don't we? Instead, people are using it as a way to attack and organize catastrophic events. We now have murder going viral; people going wild again.
As with all major tools of our lives, they can be used for good or bad -- nuclear energy, bombs or home heat. A shovel, tool or weapon. Social media, a way to stay in touch with friends, or a way to organize crime.
May the people of earth get back to the place where they choose good over bad and civilized over wild. I really miss the peace and simplicity of the fifties. (I also miss the music).
Sunday, October 26, 2014
The Crime Of Being White
I guess I'm not going to be able to eat at a nearby barbeque restaurant anymore. It was a place I frequented in the early eighties when I worked for the school district here. It is also the place where I have picked up a takeout sandwich and fries for special occasions these past eighteen years.
The last time I went -- on my seventy-sixth birthday the end of July -- one of the waitresses began growling as soon as I walked in the door. The clerk who took my order seemed amused at all the guttural noises and kept asking me if I didn't want a drink with my sandwich.
I noticed that no matter where I stood, the noisy one kept moving behind the drink machines. I was clueless. I have become used to angry African Americans in the last couple of years. For some reason I have become a favorite target of black women during this time. I don't see myself as having changed a lot over the period (though such behaviors could certainly cause big changes), so I'm having trouble understanding the attacks.
During the transaction, a young man who makes the sandwiches moved into view and stood watching in silence. He, usually a friendly employee, seemed stunned. But neither he, nor the lady who took my order, tried to stop the growling or the event she was hiding from my view.
As far as I know, I've never seen this young lady anywhere. This was definitely the first time she had ever plated my food. I've never worked with her anywhere and believe her to be way too young to have been someone I tested in the school district -- which can raise a lot of ire if parents or students don't like the test results.
I'm sure the family who owns this barbecue chain would be appalled if they knew of her behavior. The young lady would probably even lose her job. You see, when I got home and unwrapped my sandwich, I found a wet spot in the middle of my fries, just the size of a mouth full of saliva.
And African Americans wonder why racism just won't go away when they behave in such a manner for no apparent reason but our crime of being white.
The last time I went -- on my seventy-sixth birthday the end of July -- one of the waitresses began growling as soon as I walked in the door. The clerk who took my order seemed amused at all the guttural noises and kept asking me if I didn't want a drink with my sandwich.
I noticed that no matter where I stood, the noisy one kept moving behind the drink machines. I was clueless. I have become used to angry African Americans in the last couple of years. For some reason I have become a favorite target of black women during this time. I don't see myself as having changed a lot over the period (though such behaviors could certainly cause big changes), so I'm having trouble understanding the attacks.
During the transaction, a young man who makes the sandwiches moved into view and stood watching in silence. He, usually a friendly employee, seemed stunned. But neither he, nor the lady who took my order, tried to stop the growling or the event she was hiding from my view.
As far as I know, I've never seen this young lady anywhere. This was definitely the first time she had ever plated my food. I've never worked with her anywhere and believe her to be way too young to have been someone I tested in the school district -- which can raise a lot of ire if parents or students don't like the test results.
I'm sure the family who owns this barbecue chain would be appalled if they knew of her behavior. The young lady would probably even lose her job. You see, when I got home and unwrapped my sandwich, I found a wet spot in the middle of my fries, just the size of a mouth full of saliva.
And African Americans wonder why racism just won't go away when they behave in such a manner for no apparent reason but our crime of being white.
Sunday, October 19, 2014
Forgiveness
After many, many years, I finally forgave a relative of mine. The offense was not a small one and it was committed over and over for years. It is probably the very offense which caused my need for total autonomy, which does not exist, of course. I wonder if that person ever got around to forgiving me for my part in our toxic interactions. I'll never know, as the person preceded me in death. That speaks to the need for forgiving each other more often and face to face when possible, doesn't it?
I'd like to tell you that the forgiveness lifted a burden from my shoulders. It did not. I simply believe it was the right thing to do and that the Almighty is happy I did it.
I've heard it said many times that anger and resentment harm the individual who nurses the feelings, rather than the person who is the target of them. Frequently, the individual is emotionally consumed by them. It can affect their entire lives and erode their happiness. I don't think my anger was that destructive. In fact, I was probably more hurt than angry. But it is good, nevertheless, for me to be over it.
Can you forgive others for offenses, large or small? I hope so. Many religious people believe it is necessary for our improved relationship with God.
I'd like to tell you that the forgiveness lifted a burden from my shoulders. It did not. I simply believe it was the right thing to do and that the Almighty is happy I did it.
I've heard it said many times that anger and resentment harm the individual who nurses the feelings, rather than the person who is the target of them. Frequently, the individual is emotionally consumed by them. It can affect their entire lives and erode their happiness. I don't think my anger was that destructive. In fact, I was probably more hurt than angry. But it is good, nevertheless, for me to be over it.
Can you forgive others for offenses, large or small? I hope so. Many religious people believe it is necessary for our improved relationship with God.
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Severe Tests
Anybody of Jewish or Christian faith should know about Job and his trials and tribulations. God allowed Job's faith to be tested, and he passed with flying colors.
Not all of us are as good at maintaining our equilibrium as Job. Some of us, even if we eventually pass our crucibles, whine the whole way through.
My Mother was prone to wonder aloud why some people seemed to have such easier lives than others. She had lost her Mother and her husband at far too early ages. She was never done with grieving their deaths.
The simple answer, Mother, may be you were stronger than the ones you perceived as having "easy" lives. So, you may have been able to withstand more serious tests. It may be that you were unaware of their particular heartaches. Their crucibles may have been less visible than yours. Or, for those who believe our souls return to this world time after time, until we "get it right", it might appear that your soul was older and was ready to handle more.
I'm sure it is desirable that we don't whine so much as I did during my last severe test. (I kept telling God over and over -- this crucible is too hard, God). But I think the important thing is that we demonstrate the strength to survive them.
Not all of us are as good at maintaining our equilibrium as Job. Some of us, even if we eventually pass our crucibles, whine the whole way through.
My Mother was prone to wonder aloud why some people seemed to have such easier lives than others. She had lost her Mother and her husband at far too early ages. She was never done with grieving their deaths.
The simple answer, Mother, may be you were stronger than the ones you perceived as having "easy" lives. So, you may have been able to withstand more serious tests. It may be that you were unaware of their particular heartaches. Their crucibles may have been less visible than yours. Or, for those who believe our souls return to this world time after time, until we "get it right", it might appear that your soul was older and was ready to handle more.
I'm sure it is desirable that we don't whine so much as I did during my last severe test. (I kept telling God over and over -- this crucible is too hard, God). But I think the important thing is that we demonstrate the strength to survive them.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Sniggering Adults
Society is dealing a lot on television and the internet with teen cliques and bullying. Oh, how they should! Everyone knows there are multiple gangs of people in all high schools. The members of some of them take pride in tormenting people who are different from themselves. They stand around whispering, tittering and sniggering until graduation. Just as for the high school jock who winds up selling used cars and going nowhere, many of these people, male and female, remain fixated at high school maturity level.
I'm not talking about somewhat slow learners whose tested maturity age is lower than their chronological age. In many ways they are smarter than the sniggering adults. I'm discussing people who, even though they may have gotten two-year degrees somewhere, remain stuck in clique mode the rest of their lives. They see someone with five kids walking down the street, they move mouth to ear and whisper, whisper, titter, titter until the other moves away.
Included are clusters of two to four guys, watching someone doing yard work, their heads in a clutch, their laughter peeling as they whisper to each other.
How do we know they are being catty? Of course, we don't. But what would be the point of whispering if it were complimentary?
In many ways I'm sorry for these individuals who have nothing better to do with their time than gather in clutches and bad mouth their coworkers or acquaintances. How sad for them that they have no goals for learning and achieving at their best level. If they did have, they wouldn't have time to waste sniggering at and putting down their casual acquaintances. They would be too busy improving themselves.
I'm not talking about somewhat slow learners whose tested maturity age is lower than their chronological age. In many ways they are smarter than the sniggering adults. I'm discussing people who, even though they may have gotten two-year degrees somewhere, remain stuck in clique mode the rest of their lives. They see someone with five kids walking down the street, they move mouth to ear and whisper, whisper, titter, titter until the other moves away.
Included are clusters of two to four guys, watching someone doing yard work, their heads in a clutch, their laughter peeling as they whisper to each other.
How do we know they are being catty? Of course, we don't. But what would be the point of whispering if it were complimentary?
In many ways I'm sorry for these individuals who have nothing better to do with their time than gather in clutches and bad mouth their coworkers or acquaintances. How sad for them that they have no goals for learning and achieving at their best level. If they did have, they wouldn't have time to waste sniggering at and putting down their casual acquaintances. They would be too busy improving themselves.
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