Good-hearted people

When your daughter is injured far from home, she really learns who her friends are. And you as a parent learn how good your daughter is at choosing her friends.

Daughter Two elected to go sledding on her elbow recently, with predictable results. While Mary and I frantically waited to hear the official medical pronouncements about the injury and prognosis, we didn’t know about the maelstrom of activity surrounding her. I thought I’d share it here.

Two’s roommate Tobi did everything a parent might have done and more. She rode in the ambulance with her, stayed with her during the whole ER experience, took her back to their room and made sure she had everything she needed.

Speaking of the ambulance, did I mention this is an entirely student-operated ambulance service? They sized things up, immobilized the joint, and transported her like any other group of professionals.

Back to Tobi, who helped Two move all her stuff across campus to the hotel room where I would arrive late the night before surgery to help see her through the ordeal of the first few days post-op.

Two’s sorority sisters and other friends made her feel cared about throughout. One in particular – Hannah B – visited more than once and came prepared to work. She helped Two dress, figured out the bandage cover that worked splendidly for the shower (mine for a later shower, ahem, not so much), and let me get out of the room for a half hour to walk down to the river – my first break in two days, and precisely what a worried dad needed at that point in time.

Then there was the young lady in the dorm who organized an activity for later in the week centered on things Two can do with her clown-sized arm getting in the way.And the prof who cut her some slack. And the Dean who checked up on her.

And of course, there were all the well-wishers who made us feel their caring from remote locations.

I guess a broken  elbow isn’t such a big deal in the grand scheme. But it was big to my daughter. And what folks did is maybe just what friends do. But it was big to us.

Various people in various ways stepped up and made my daughter feel valued and cared about. Yeah, that’s a big deal.

Thank you.

The latest list

List of things that blow:
1) Hyperbole in political speeches
2) Chefs who put brocolli or mushrooms in dishes that don't usually inlcude them, just to mess with me
3) Daughter Two in excrutiating pain after the nerve block wore off earlier than expected and caught her without pain meds on board.

Labels

If there’s anything that will reliably cause hurt between friends these days, it’s gotta be politics. And it shouldn’t be that way. (He says, while cringing in the self-knowledge that he’s as guilty as the next guy or gal of the unthinking jab.)

I grew up in a Republican family. At least my Dad was an avowed Republican. But today, I have to wonder how palatable he would find some planks of the Republican platform.  

I should interject here that identifying the family of my childhood as “Republican” should be taken with a certain grain of salt. In the late fifties and early sixties, a family was identified by the father’s politics. I don’t recall my mother’s comments from that era, if indeed there were any to recall. It was a sign of the times that women didn’t generally speak up concerning beliefs that clashed with those of their husbands. That would come to a crashing halt for my Mom in the early 70’s but I digress…

As a teenager, I was a member of the first wave of eighteen-year-olds who voted in a national election. The presence of Democratic Party proselytizers on the corner near my high school campus dictated that my registration as a voter identified me as such.

I voted for Richard Nixon at my first opportunity. I felt that his foreign policy was progressive when contrasted with that of his competition. I was focused on withdrawal from VietNam (an area in which he sorely disappointed me) and enlightened pragmatism in our dealings with China (an area in which he satisfied my then-beliefs). I don’t recall being passionate about any other national issues in those days and given my age at the time, it’s certainly possible I based my choice primarily on those two considerations.

Since then, I’ve voted for the candidate I thought would best serve my own beliefs concerning the direction of my country. While I consider my voting record private, I will tell you that a thorough review from 1972 to today would probably confound any attempt to identify me as a staunch member of any particular party.

This is not to say I haven’t had identifiable leanings. For much of my young adulthood, my friends and family knew me as a conservative Republican and most of my utterances in those days would admittedly have supported that view. But in the last twenty years, I’ve shifted my allegiances in ways that would regrettably and inaccurately identify me as a traitor to my Republican friends and a latent conservative to other friends.

Also during the last twenty years, through my role as a father of daughters and as husband to a strong woman and as an advocate for folks living with disabilities, my views have shifted. At the same time, through ludicrous political positions ranging from Reagan’s trickle down obscenity to Clinton’s claim that it was about his personal sex life and not about the Chief Executive committing perjury under oath, I felt more and more marginalized by the country’s two largest political parties.

It’s been quite awhile since I felt aligned with any formally organized group of political thinkers. The 1% certainly don’t all believe as I do and I don’t believe there’s any such thing as The 99. Neither Occupy Seattle nor the people they claim to despise represent me. So, as a thinking person – and I’m hoping folks on both sides will at least grant that perhaps I do occasionally think – I just can’t get on board with anyone who believes that if I embrace the plank I have to support the whole platform.

I cast out both extremist claims: that only liberals are caring or that only conservatives are responsible.

I won’t advocate for any particular position in this posting. Can’t guarantee I won’t from time to time in other postings but for now, I’ll just offer my thoughts on a few issues of the day. For those who may be inclined to read or not my blog based on my political beliefs, I offer this small bit of soul-bearing, admittedly not comprehensive but probably appropriately representative:

·         Government at any level exists primarily to organize resources to allow people to live together. I am primarily devoted to the U.S. Constitution but only to the extent that it continues to serve us well. If it is not a living, breathing document, it is nothing at all.

·         With that said, I believe in the evolution of case law; that the principle of stare decisis must be tempered by respect for new situations, fresh information, and evolving cultural influences; and that devotion to any constitution, law, regulation or ordnance is and should  always be trumped by reason.

·         Any sovereign entity holds and should responsibly exercise the right to enforce its borders.

·         It is ludicrous and hateful to assume that one wave of immigrants is more deserving of succor and assimilation than another.

·         It is anti-pragmatic to consider the health care and public services costs associated with immigrants without also considering the richness – both cultural and economic – that they bring with them.

·         Fundamental health care is not mentioned as a right in the Constitution, so national movements to provide both basic and catastrophic health insurance can only be reliably considered from a practical point of view. I personally believe that every person in this country should have access to health care, and that no one should ever be faced with making a choice between health care and other essentials – roof and walls, food, knowledge and training, personal dignity. We can talk about how we accomplish this but I find it amusing to hear folks argue against “socialized medicine.” What do you think we have now? Find a medical school, pharmaceutical company or hospital that receives no public funding, then we can talk. Otherwise – and I say this with love – kindly shut up.

·         The principle of freedom of religion can be upheld only to the extent that it rests on a foundation of freedom from religion. I will never support any political party or movement that claims to have a god or gods on its side. Neither do I resent you practicing according to your beliefs, so long as you keep it out of my face.

·         Sexual orientation and sexual perversion are not the same thing. Some people do things in the bedroom that I consider ickey. That doesn’t mean they are lesser humans. And a lot of those people doing ickey things would proudly identify themselves as heterosexual.

·         In any society I can respect, EVERY CHILD should be able to count on protection and support from ANY ADULT. Adults who fail to accept and live by this tenant are indeed lesser life forms.

·         Self-restraint trumps censorship every time. We need MUCH more of the former and always, less of the latter.

·         I don’t know it all, but it is incumbent on me to act on what I do know.

·         In a free society, you vote where you are, when you are, according to your understanding of the issues. Allowing any political “leader’s” proclamations to become a proxy for your own thought is irresponsible. Note to cheering throngs - please just stay home on election day.

·         Welfare as currently deployed is a sad and destructive program. We need programs that build people up, not that encourage them to be warehoused and marginalized.

·         My thoughts will continue to evolve, or so I hope and believe. Anyone whose political position doesn’t shift over time either got it perfectly right at a very young age, or just isn’t listening.

Jaywalkers and other hardened criminals

The other day, the jungle drums in our office building were working overtime with the news that the local gendarmes were assiduously enforcing the city ordnance against jaywalking. Several of the people who work in our building, including one of my office mates, got dinged with $54.00 tickets.

You would have thought someone had mooned the queen!

That whole day, messages and water cooler chat were all about the unreasonable attitude of the cops. You can probably imagine how it went but just in case, here’s the nutshell version:

                “Why are the cops hassling people trying to get to work when there are drug deals going on within view of the same officers? Don’t they have better things to do than bother hard-working, law-abiding citizens? And besides, it was still blinking when I started across.”

You want the short answer? Just wait for the light! How hard is that?

Look, I understand there are priorities in the enforcement of laws. This is most likely the reason why jaywalking crackdowns are so infrequent. But does the relative severity of narcotics and prostitution violations mean that we never enforce ‘lesser’ regulations?

The fact is, jaywalking in downtown Seattle is totally out of hand. I don’t drive there very often but when I do, most of the problems I have is with the jerks on foot who walk wherever and whenever they want, secure in the assumption that no driver in his right mind will dare run them over. Which in my case, is a valid if annoying assumption.

I guess I could go on for pages about this particular issue but the truth is, I ride the bus and it doesn’t affect me all that much.

What does seem worth the space is a brief discussion about civil behavior.

Our laws are never going to be sufficient to ensure civility or even safety in our society. We can’t account for every possible eventuality and if we tried (some societies have), we’d end up with an opaque welter of rules that the best of us would find burdensome and the worst of us would use as weapons in petty squabbles.

But we do need some rules to help us all understand and abide by the common expectations that – if abided by – allow us to live and work together in peace. Traffic behaviors are one area in which, left to our own devices, bedlam would ensue. Don’t believe me? Think about how many yahoos do dangerous things every day even with the laws we currently enforce.

The truth is that traffic flow in an urban setting needs to be regulated in order to allow ease of flow and provide some modicum of safety. In fact, it’s a serious chore to figure out how to take all these inputs – walkers, riders, drivers, messengers, deliveries, road work, freeway ramps, flow to suburbs, commercial vs. retail vs. residential vs. mixed use, etc. – and produce a plan that works. So, traffic engineering has become a discipline of its own. These folks take into account all those factors with which I personally don’t want to be bothered and they come up with a plan. All I have to do is follow the plan.

It isn't because we have enough police to follow us all around 24/7 that we're relatively safe from robbery and assault. We’ll never have and shouldn’t want that many cops. Most of us are relatively safe most of the time because most of us follow rules we’ve agreed upon.

Some people just don’t want to follow the rules. They think the rules are too petty for them to bother with. But if we’re making petty rules, change the rules.

I know some of you will think me a crank for this one and I don’t really care. If you park in a disabled space without a placard, chances are I’m going to send your photo to the traffic department.

If you’re in Seattle and you walk against the light (and by the way, when it starts blinking, it’s too late to start across), chances are you’ll get a $54.00 dollar ticket. Just pay up and be glad you didn’t get run over.

Snow driving

SO, what part of “Stay off the roads except for emergencies” is so difficult to understand?

‘Nuff said?

A gender thing?

Our friend Sindy recently called attention to a You Tube posting of Miss Representation.  You really want to check it out before we begin our discussion for today.

Go ahead, we’ll wait…

All ready?

Okay, so now that we’re all in the same starting blocks, let’s think about what we saw. I could say that as the father of daughters, I’m outraged. But that would misleading.  Although this video does a good job of highlighting gender inequities, it’s not like this is news. 

And THAT is what I find outrageous.

The problem of presumed gender roles has led to an enormous waste of human potential. And not only because women have been traditionally relegated the traditional role of home-bound nurturer  / sex goddess.

The fact is, this topic is just way too big for a father of daughters to handle in a little vanity blog. But it’s also too important to leave alone.

I was tempted to do one about standards of beauty and inequities in the professional world and abuse, but it’s just too big a subject for this vehicle and tonight, for this writer. You should see the paragraphs I deleted before I uploaded this piece.

Who am I to chime in on why more than half of our population is treated like sex-toys-or-nothing? So I’ll leave those paragraphs in the deletion bin. Well, except these few…

The pragmatist in me just won’t let this bit go: As a society, we’re wasting a resource we simply can’t afford to waste. We look to models and reality stars and trophy wives for our role models. And we’re missing so many who really should be considered role models.

I’m glad we know about Jean Kirkpatrick and Condoleeza Rice but what about Marie Tharp?  Why don’t young girls grow up knowing about Amy Smith or Regina Benjamin? Why do so many know about Bill Gates but relatively few about Patty Stonesipher? I could go on and on…

We’re wasting latent talent that we don’t encourage to flourish. Even setting aside basic fairness, that’s just dumb.

There’s a piece of billboard art making the rounds. It shows the tail end of a ‘60s muscle car under the caption, “Remember when your cup holder sat next to you and wore a poodle skirt?”

You have to wonder how many cup holders could have helped change the world, given the opportunity to drive.

Miss representation

My buddy Sindy posted this on Facebook but in case you haven't seen it yet, please take a few minutes to watch it. There will be a group discussion soon.

Go to: You Tube
Search criterion: Miss representation


See you soon.

Chili weekend

I made chili tonight. Turkey chili. It’s good stuff – or will be after it steeps overnight – and it’s totally healthful. Four kinds of beans, chunked meat from a roasted turkey, green and red peppers, onion, carrot, some hot pepper, black pepper, a touch of garlic, some oregano and various secret ingredients.  And by secret ingredients, I mean of course the stuff that Mary will add while I’m not looking.

This is not to say Mary sneaks her additions into the pot. We just cook collaboratively. We’re going to be doing a lot more of that in the near future as we work on making some changes in direction. Yes, we’re on a health kick, what of it?

We went to the market earlier this evening and purchased the food we’ll eat this week. It’s been a long, long time since we did the grocery shopping together. It was a nice evening out. I recall when we were first married, we’d go to Von’s in Fresno and spend an hour shopping, running a mental tab as we went since we weren’t rolling in money in those days. Not that we are now but that’s a whole ‘nother blog.

We really enjoyed being together, making these itty bitty decisions as we made our way up and down the aisles. It was … well, nice.

We’ll have chili tomorrow night and again Tuesday (it gets better over time, trust me), tilapia Monday, pork Wednesday, and so on. And of course, veggies, salad, healthful snacks and so forth. We’ll be working together on our meal planning and prep and cooking. And it’s been awhile since we’ve done that, as well.

Over the years of raising a family, we’d perhaps become a little too good at delegating tasks to ourselves and each other and it seems, doing very little actually together. And now that it’s just us in the house and we’re able to be a bit more selfish in our day-to-day choices, we’re drawing closer together. We put the Christmas decorations away together. We talked together about how the girls are doing at school. We ate dinner together.

It’s ironic that in building a family and dividing up chores to make things manageable, how much of our life we spent apart. There were probably many weeks during which our primary time together awake was when we both happened to volunteer for the same event for the girls’ schools or choir or…

I’ve been asked many times in the last four months whether Mary and I are sad with the girls out of the house. The blunt truth is, not a bit. That’s not to say I don’t miss the girls. I’m constantly wondering how they’re doing or thinking about how one or the other of them would react to this or that. I need them at odd moments and they’re just not here.

On the other hand, they’re each embarked on building their own lives and I’m a thrilled observer. And meanwhile, I have my wife back. We’re working on reclaiming the house as our own and planning hikes and yes, shopping together.

And tonight, I made chili that won’t be done until Mary seasons it to taste.

Life is good.

It’s list time again!

Ramifications of the bankruptcy filing by Hostess brands:

1.       No more “Twinkie defense”.

2.       I will personally suffer a Ding Dong deficiency.

3.       With the loss of Wonder Bread, we’ll have to switch to sandwich bread that only helps build strong bodies eleven ways.

4.       Dolly Madison will lose her day job.

5.       Henceforth “ho-ho” will be heard only during the holidays.

6.       The mystery of the white stuff may finally be resolved.

7.       Hoarders will stock up on Twinkies that will never go bad!

8.       The balance of power between healthful foods and snack foods will be terribly upset.

9.        The value of white stuff injectors will tank.

10.   Zingers will no longer be offered in fashionable homes.

11.   I know where you can pick up a few really big ovens, really cheap!

Another bit of poetry

Hickety-snickety, kickety-poo

Zirtity-purtity, pockety-loo

Fizzle mee dee

Ricklee ree bee

Chunkity-punkity, rickety roo.

Gawd, it’s cool being talented!

But seriously, I spent an entire bus ride today making up nonsense poetry in mine noggin. And I’m not even seeing a therapist!

A matter of priorities

I arrived home from D.C. tonight to the thrilled dancing and barking of two dogs who – I thought – were beside themselves with the sheer joy of my renewed presence.

Until I made my way to the kitchen and they both did the sit-and-stare with a focus  that only a begging dog can accomplish.

I am apparently viewed less as a much-missed and beloved friend than as that guy who can be counted on to fetch biscuits on command.

A tardy letter

Dear Dad:

I know this is a bit late but the thoughts come when they come. What can I say?

I stopped by to see you and Mom the other day. Not much had changed as you know, but I always like to touch the stone when I’m in the area.  I drove by the old house on Belvale and it was pretty much the same, as well. It’s odd to think about how tight that little group of neighbors was.

 I remembered you and Uncle Bill helping the Unlands put in the side extension to their driveway. And the time you and Jack and the guy whose name I can’t recall ran down the street to pull Greg’s brother and his car out of the garage and put out the fire before it could spread to the house. It was the second time in my life I’d witnessed as you rescued someone from a fire.

I drove by the high school and recalled your pride when I played drums with the stage band at the basketball games. I always felt your disappointment that I wasn’t an athlete, so knowing that I’d done something that made you proud was a big deal to me in those days.

I drove down 17 past the airport and when I went past Coleman, I was reminded of the years you spent working a job that you grew to loath in order to provide for your family. I hope you’d be cheered by my dedication to my own work and pleased that I’ve found a job I love. And I hope and believe you’d be gratified that I know how much you contributed to my own work ethic.

You likely know we buried Dave last week. I hope you also know of the rapprochement between him and his kids in the last years. At the end, he was a Dad and we’ll leave it at that.  But family funerals – there’ve been too many in recent years - always make me reminiscent.

I thought about our childhood. We never had much money but we always had the things we needed. You took pride in that, as well you should. You were first and foremost a family man.

Little things seem to form your legend in my mind. Like the time Pat and I got the “working fire truck” from Santa and you spent the whole weekend with us setting cardboard box buildings on fire and then putting them out, only to light them again.

I loved when you would lean back on your floor cushion and take on all your kids at once in a wrestle and tickle match that always sent me on an emergency trip to the restroom from laughing too hard.

You didn’t always approve of my choices and sometimes tsked at my failures but you always rejoiced in my triumphs.  I’m sorry that in demanding your approval, I sometimes overlooked your love.

I remember your terror when I stayed with you after Mom passed and the dawning knowledge of how much you’d relied on each other all those years.

I recalled sitting with you recording the stories that would become your eulogy for Uncle Bud and how your soul tore at the thought that your brother would never trade outrageous golf lies with you again.

And the time you and Mr. Russell tortured door-to-door salesmen by calling each other so the second one they contacted could pull the psychic act and pretend to “read” their sales pitch before they could begin.

I can picture you doing the twist on the Sullivan’s patio spread with corn meal. It’s truly an awful picture. No offense. And speaking of god-awful, I’ve apparently inherited your fashion sense. That one’s best left alone.

Picnics at the lake (I still have Mom’s big yellow potato salad bowl), drives on Sunday evenings, road trips to L.A. and Virginia, all stand out for me as signature events of my upbringing. My love of road trips is another welcome inheritance from you.

We had the same problems that seem to plague so many fathers and sons but I always knew you were there for me. I have regrets about facets of our relationship that I’ve come to understand don’t really matter. I’m no more the perfect Dad than you were but through my own journey, I’ve come to know how hard you tried.

You did a good job with the resources at hand. And your give-a-shit factor was high. What more could a son have asked?