Keep it to Yourself

 

And here’s another thing about Facebook:  There’s just too much drama. 

Maybe it’s the people I know. (Years of working in a call center has definitely brought some dramatic folks into my life!)  But, I just don’t get why you’d want to be airing some of that dirty laundry on a public timeline.  Broken hearts, crappy bosses, family squabbles—is Facebook really the place?

I mean, sure, tell me about your life-changing event.  If you had a rough break-up, some commiseration from your friends could be helpful, absolutely.  And even if you and I aren’t all that close, that sort of pain touches a common nerve, so I’ll try and leave some sort of encouragement.  But I don’t need all the vindictive anger that comes out after a breakup.  I don’t even really need your play-by-play of your grief and pain, but I’m a little more tolerant of that.  Just not the anger and calling people out all over social media.

And the groups?  Oh my goodness.  These people don’t even know each other, so how can it possibly create such feelings of animosity?  Sometimes I just want to take them all into a timeout corner and tell them to sit quietly until they can learn to play nicely.

By now I’m sure you’re wondering if griping about people’s social media habits on my blog is really much different than the behavior I’m griping about, and I suppose that’s a fair question.  I will only try and clarify that it’s not the occasional rant that I have a problem with, but the constant, unnecessary bitchiness that just makes me scratch my head and wonder why. 

On Person of Interest one time, social media in general was referred to as “a swamp of indiscretion”, and I’m reminded of that phrase almost daily.  There’s a ton of over-sharing, of course, but it’s the angry over-sharing that always bothers me the most.  Seriously, can we not all just get along?

Feel Good Friday, August 22

 

There’s so much craziness going on in the world.  Wars.  Racial and religious tensions.  Crime of just about every imaginable flavor.  It’s overwhelming sometimes. 

But, when it all seems hopeless, it’s refreshing to know that we’ve got a leader we can turn to for a needed dose of wisdom and inspiration.

Sadly, I don’t typically turn to elected officials for that much-needed boost, but I can always count on Kid President.  Making the rounds this week is his back to school message, and I was glad to see it, because the world definitely needs to show a little more awesome.

If you’re not familiar with Kid President, you really should check him out.  I’d vote for him (and his staffers) for real, but I wouldn’t want to ruin them!

Too Much Public Access?

 

Like the rest of the civilized world, I am horrified by the murder of James Foley.  Not that kidnapping innocent people and holding them for years is a minor thing, but to just outright murder someone, especially in such a terrifying manner, goes beyond what the mind can imagine.

But in this particular case, the mind doesn’t really have to imagine, because the barbaric act—or at least the result of the act—is preserved on film.  I guess it’s not particularly surprising to me that any group that would be so inhuman as to behead a prisoner would want to continue the terror by showing their gruesome act to as many people as possible.  But it does sort of surprise me that anyone would want to watch such a thing.

Though the video has apparently been removed from most of the internet (though “removed from the internet” is just about impossible), I heard some talking heads today saying that it should be available in the interest of avoiding censorship.  I guess I can almost understand that argument, though mostly I think that at some point, the overall standards of society have to come into play.  And, in this case, I’m pretty sure that societal standards have not yet sunk so low that the majority of people would think it’s perfectly okay to show a man losing his life, or even the aftermath. 

And what about Foley’s family?  With every copy of that video that exists, there is a greater likelihood that his family might be inadvertently exposed to it, and surely no one would wish that.  In school one time, we talked about a case where a police officer responding to a fatality accident (also a decapitation) took a photo of the victim, turned it into a particularly gruesome Halloween card, and forwarded it out to a few of his closest friends. Through the power of the great www, the card quickly circulated far beyond the officer’s initial friends, only to end up in the inbox of the victim’s unsuspecting father, who clicked a link expecting some sort of internet frivolity, not a graphic representation of the worst event of his life.  Protecting the Foley family from that sort of terrible possibility should trump the interests of anyone who just wants to argue the rights of random citizens who have a right to be protected from censorship.

As a rule, I can’t imagine it’s more than a kind of sick curiosity that would drive someone to want to watch the video, anyway.  But I hope in this case, basic decency wins out, and that horrible video is banished from existence everywhere except in the offices of whatever officials might need it to bring the ruthless murderers to justice.

When it’s Time to Change

 

Having suffered through several years of hanging on to a job once the joy and satisfaction had gone, I know what it feels like when it’s time to start considering a change.  And I know that it begins with the small feelings of dread that settle into the pit of your stomach on Sunday evenings.  The part that’s not as clear is how to balance out the fact that there are still good parts to a bad situation, and how to know precisely when it’s time to stop considering a change and start making a change.  And, of course, history is not in my favor, since I stuck it out too long last time, leading to a really bad ending.  Only time will tell if I have learned anything from my past mistakes. 

Watching the Watchers

 

Let me say right up front that I have not really been following the Eric Garner situation too closely.  I mean, I know the basics:  a man died when the NYPD used an illegal chokehold on him, the entire incident was caught on tape, and the death has subsequently been ruled a homicide.  But I don’t know enough about it to form an opinion on whether the death was caused by a tragic set of circumstances or a blatant abuse of power.  Sadly, I’m becoming cynical enough to think that the latter is probably more likely. 

Honestly, I don’t want to be that cynical.  I’d much rather believe that even if the officer involved used illegal methods of restraint, he did it in a moment of panic for his own safety, or because Mr. Garner was putting up superhuman efforts at resistance, something to make it not really the officer’s fault, though that seems unlikely.

Then, today I hear that the man who filmed the altercation has been arrested  for an unrelated gun charge.  Hmm.  Like I said, I’d much rather be confident that everything is on the up and up, but that kind of certainty seems to be a thing of the past.   It will be interesting to see what comes of all of this. 

One Small Step

 

    Forty-five years ago, almost to this very minute, Neil Armstrong was taking a step that would leave its footprint in history.

   I was five years old at the time, and to this day, I don’t know if I have any actual memories of the moon walk, or only those that I have acquired in the intervening years and claimed as my own.  Not that it really matters.  Sure, I’d love to be able to answer a “where were you when” question about this spectacular moment, but it’s enough to even have those hazy feelings of wonder and pride that float around in my brain.

And even those fuzzy memories aren’t necessary for me to still be in awe of the idea that there have actually been men on the moon. Men from Earth, on the moon.  What’s not awesome about that? 

And it’s still awesome, forty-five years later, to contemplate what is possible when people work together toward a common goal.  I think that’s important, maybe now more than ever.  When you think about what we achieved decades ago, with information and technology that’s practically ancient compared to today, it’s exciting to think what we could accomplish now, if only we would pull together just a little bit, and take a few more steps.

 

 

Facebook Friday, July 18

 

Just yesterday, I was despairing the state of the world. 

Today, the local child who was the subject of the amber alert last night has already been found safely, and, a friend on Facebook shred the most amazing video. Faith in humanity: restored.

And Now, a Word from the Germans

 

I’ve never been fond of the idea of a mid-life crisis; it seems a little pretentious, don’t you think?  Trying to hang on to a youth that’s passed you by, making yourself seem to be something you are not, mourning a loss of something that may never have really existed to begin with.  It just all seems a little over the top and unnecessary to me.  Not to mention that it sounds overwhelmingly terrifying.  I mean, it’s got the word crisis right in the name.

Having said all that, though, I have to confess that I feel I may be falling into one.  Or maybe not, I don’t know.  I do know that these menopause symptoms, coupled with other niggling health issues, are making me a little crazy.  I know that I feel a kind of constant melancholy that is not normal for me.  I feel that I should re-examine my career choices and wonder if I’m doing the thing that I’m meant to be doing.  I wonder if there is still time to repair the rather distant relationship that exists between my son and I.  I wonder if I’ve done enough good in my lifetime.  Really, I wonder an awful lot of things, and mostly my wonderings reach no definitive answer.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time lately perusing the pages of webmd, the Mayo clinic, and other medical sites reassuring myself that the things I’m feeling are normal, and I’m not really slipping into some sort of break from reality, but knowing that I’m not alone in these feelings hasn’t really been all that comforting.  And, knowing that these feelings are likely not permanent hasn’t been much of a relief, either, because it seems I’ve still got quite a ways to go before my symptoms are likely to diminish.

So why talk about it if there’s nothing much to do except muddle through?  I don’t know.  Maybe if I can still reason it out, that makes it seem like a bit less of a “crisis”.  Or maybe just as a way to let some of it out safely, because actually talking about all of it out loud to someone might make me sound even crazier than I feel.  Or maybe just because that’s what I do here—talk about things that are on my mind, and this is front and center today.

But I still don’t like the idea of a mid-life crisis.  I was watching a rerun of Big Bang Theory today, and Sheldon was talking about a German word for a feeling of depression that comes from comparing how life is to how you imagine it should be.  He called it “weltschmerz”, and I think that’s the root of most folks’ mid-life crisis: that life just hasn’t developed exactly as we thought that it would and we’re running out of time to change it. 

But, whether it is or isn’t the true underlying cause, at least it doesn’t sound quite as alarming as a mid-life crisis.  Yeah, no crisis for me if I can help it.  In fact, I believe I shall begin calling my situation “age-induced temporary weltschmerz”.   Thanks, Sheldon.

Million Dollar Question

 

You might not know it, but I’m a sucker for websites that will give me short little topic prompts in hopes of finding something that strikes my fancy enough to actually want to write about it.  One such site is Creativity Portal, and I like their prompt generator.  Today, it gave me an option I really liked:  If you were to donate a million dollars to a charity, who would it be and why?

I thought that was an interesting question, not so much because of the question itself, but because it made me actually think for a second.  When I think about winning the lottery or somehow coming into many millions of dollars, I always think about donating money to those who need it, and I always put the American Cancer Society on my list.  But when that thought popped into my head this evening, I paused for just a second.

Don’t get me wrong, if I ever have tons of money to give away, the ACS is going to get some of it for sure.  I lost my mom to that awful disease, but even though that pain follows me year after year, I know my own loss is multiplied by far too many others who feel that pain every single day.  At some point, that has to stop.

But, the prompt made me think about what I would do with the million dollars I would give to “a” charity, not how I might spread it around (which is what I’d really do), and I had the idea that a million bucks might not go all that far in the fight against cancer. 

But, then I thought of another organization that I think does much needed work: the Make a Wish Foundation.  I’m sure you’re familiar with them, but they’re the folks that grant wishes to sick children.  I love the idea that these kids and families get a chance to just be happy for a while.  These are the people who deal with the details of illness and potential death every minute of every day, and I can only imagine the strain that puts on everyone involved.  But whether the child wants a trip somewhere or a video game or to meet a favorite sports star, Make a Wish tries to make it happen, and I think it’s important that those families have a chance to forget about the illness for just a while.  Kids should get to be kids, even if—or maybe especially if—they’re fighting for their life.

Anyway, my understanding is that most of the wishes granted cost less than $10,000, so that means at least a hundred families could be helped with my million dollars.  I’m not sure I could get the same impact through the Cancer Society, so I think my donation would have to go to Make a Wish.

What about you?  Any particular organization on whom you’d want to bestow such a gift?

A Question of Patriotism

 

Do I lose points, especially this time of year, if I admit that I don’t really consider myself overly patriotic?  I mean, of course I love my country, and there’s truly no place that I would rather live.  I think we’ve done a lot of things right over the years, and I’ll light a sparkler or two tomorrow night in celebration.  But I don’t fly a flag outside my house, I’m glad my son never wanted to join the military so I never had to worry I’d lose him to some crazy war, and for all the things we’ve done right, I still think there are an awful lot of things we have done—and continue to do—wrong.  Does that make me unpatriotic?  Maybe.  So while I’m making the confession, let me just pile on one other thing:  the Supreme Court is really pissing me off lately.

As I have mentioned in the past, I’m not only potentially unpatriotic, but I’m definitely mostly non-political.  But still . . . To my very core, I reject the idea that organizations can be granted personhood in any way, so the idea they can be allowed to exercise religious freedom is truly unfathomable to me.  And I say this as an Oklahoma (almost) native, so it’s almost impossible for me to escape the arguments in support of Hobby Lobby being allowed to opt out of the full requirements of “Obamacare” on the basis of sincerely held religious beliefs.  I’ve heard them all.  But you are never going to convince me that an employer’s religious beliefs should trump an employee’s right to health care coverage that’s right for her.  (Or him, though in this particular case, it’s really only the “hers” that are getting the short end of the stick.")

And, listen, when it comes down to the particulars, I get that Hobby Lobby is really only objecting to less than a handful of contraceptive techniques.  And I really don’t even doubt the religious beliefs of the owners are sincerely held.  I just think the owners should confer with their health care providers and discuss available options before continuing forward with any necessary treatment for themselves, and I think that they shouldn’t exclude treatment from others because of their own religious views.  And, don’t kid yourself, it really doesn’t matter that the Court tried to “protect” women by saying that they could pursue other options for getting these particular treatments, even if the government has to pick up the tab.  First of all, maybe my religious beliefs prohibit that sort of thing.  Secondly, people without insurance forgo important medical treatment regularly, even if they might have some sort of “free” treatment option, just because they don’t want to ask for help.   There is no doubt in my mind that this ruling will prevent at least some women from receiving needed medical treatment, and I think that’s a shame. 

As far as I’m concerned, it boils down to this:  companies are not people, and I don’t believe they should have equal rights to people, much less superior rights.  And I can’t believe that our founding fathers ever intended that a business entity should be viewed as a citizen with full rights and privileges.  I could probably go on, but I’m not really here to try and convince anyone, just venting a little bit about a recent mistake by this great nation.  And, now that I think about it, maybe caring enough to be upset when I see us stumble, but still believing that there is nowhere greater to call home, makes me absolutely patriotic.  I’ll be thinking about that tomorrow when I light my sparkler.

 

On the 5th of May

 

Is it just me, or is there a certain irony in a society that celebrates all the fun and revelry (read: good food and flowing alcohol) that comes along with Cinco de Mayo, but has so little respect for the culture that inspired the holiday?  Not that everyone disrespects , of course, but enough that it makes me wonder.  It was just a thought.

Unrelated, but also on my mind today is the Supreme Court ruling upholding the right of governmental entities to open their proceedings with a prayer. 

I’m sure I have mentioned that I’m not a particularly “religious” person, in that I don’t have need for organized religion, nor the need to be overt about my beliefs.  But I get that that’s just me, and that plenty of folks find joy and purpose in their church life and in sharing their beliefs with others.  And that’s okay; I don’t begrudge any of it.

But, I’ll admit that I’m one of “those people” who thinks it’s a little odd that legislative bodies open their sessions with a prayer, that local town councils are doing the same, that our courts ask witnesses to swear on a bible and proclaim their honesty “so help me God”. 

I don’t think it’s odd because those things don’t apply to me; I think it’s odd because I recognize that they don’t apply to everyone.  There is a subtle discrimination in the way that our “society”—as portrayed by our government—is Christian.  It’s a little bit insidious, really.

I think if it’s important to organizations that the members have an opportunity to begin sessions with prayer, that maybe there should just be a moment set aside for people to say their own prayers silently.  Or even out loud, if they are so inclined, though our society really doesn’t have a whole lot of tolerance for “others”, so anyone not saying a “typical” prayer might not feel comfortable in speaking out. 

I’m not saying that Christians should be subjected to oppression of their own; I’m just saying that I think sometimes we forget that Christians are not the only people in this country, and it’s too easy to forget the idea that just because any particular group might be a minority, does not mean that they should be marginalized. 

Come to think of it, it’s possible that this is not as unrelated to Cinco de Mayo as it seemed.

 

Welcome Back to Wellness Wednesday

 

Well, here we are again.  I know I’ve said it before, but I honestly have got to find the strength of will to rededicate myself to losing weight and getting healthier.

A few years back, when I found that sort of determination, it was all started because of a particularly bad photograph.  When I look back a few years from now (hopefully as a much smaller person), I will say it was a health scare that got me moving again.  Not a huge health scare, mind you, but one that has gotten me to thinking.

Of course, I’ve known for a long time that I’m healthier overall as a lighter person.  I mean, that’s not much of a secret, right?  But when I ended up in the hospital for a few days last week, getting subjected to the poking and prodding and scanning, it really sort of hit home.  You see, even after all the poking, prodding, and scanning, the experts still haven’t figured out a precise cause for the symptoms that sent me to the doctor in the first place, but all the things they thought it might have been (which have been ruled out after all the testing), and the inkling of an idea they have now that it still might be, all of those reasons are exacerbated by being overweight. 

Again, that’s hardly a surprise, since it seems you can’t open up a list of causes for any illness from a common headache to cancer without finding obesity among the culprits, but some seem to be more causally related than others.  But, whether the weight is a primary risk factor or one way down the list of possibilities, I’d just as soon try to eliminate the dangers all the way around.

Not that it will be easy.  In addition to age and metabolism fighting me (believe me when I say that the old adage about losing weight after 50 is true), that oft-referenced motivation has really been eluding me lately.  And, since being home from the hospital, I’ve really been taking it easy—not much physical activity and lots of sleep.  Honestly, it’s just after 11pm as I write this, and I haven’t seen anything close to this hour of night for over a week!  Going to bed earlier is probably a routine I should try to continue, but I feel like I lose out on some valuable hours that way.  Anyway, the point is, while my head knows that I need to be putting in some physical effort at weight loss, my body has not been cooperating.  If I’m feeling up to it, I’ll try to hit the gym this weekend for a low impact workout and start easing my way back into things.

But, whether it’s this weekend, or takes another week to get to feeling better, I know I’ve got to do it.  I may not be a youngster anymore, but I think I’m still too young to be worrying about my end of days.  There are still things I want to do, see, experience before I leave this earth behind, so I need to get my body in the shape to allow those things to happen.  It’s really not just about weight, and it’s not about vanity at all; it’s about being healthy enough to live my life and enjoy it.

The journey begins.

Heartbreaking Message

 

My heart breaks today for the families of flight 370, even more than it has been breaking for the past weeks.  I can’t imagine waiting for so long, hoping for a miracle, only to be told by text message that your hoping had been in vain.   Not that there’s a good way to deliver such news, but there are ways that are more bad than others, and I’m pretty sure text messaging is pretty close to the top of the bad list. 

Still, the worst part has to be that they have essentially been asked to accept on faith that their loved ones are gone.  Is it possible that all aboard have perished?  Of course.  Does that seem even the most likely scenario?  Maybe.  But after seventeen days of waiting, seventeen days when I am sure that they have poured every bit of faith they could muster into believing in some other answer—any other answer—they’ve now been told to quit hoping.  They’ve been told to believe in the magic of untested technology to determine the final passage of those most important to them.  I can understand their grief—and their anger.

Watching the news tonight, Brian commented that he was surprised by the families’ reactions, that by now they should have prepared themselves for this result.  But even he, who clearly has so little understanding of the human capacity for hope and faith, couldn’t believe that such a final announcement would be made without some actual physical evidence. 

I said earlier something that we say all the time: “I can’t imagine . .”, but the truth is, I can imagine.  My imaginings might not be correct, and maybe in their situation I would feel totally different than how it seems I would feel, but I can imagine.  I imagine I would be hurt, and angry, and lost, and a whole host of other emotions.  I imagine that I would not want someone to shatter what faith I had managed to cultivate and preserve until such time as there was no other option.  And, if it reached the point where my faith had to be shattered, I imagine I would not want it shattered by text message.  I imagine I would be inconsolable.

And because I can imagine all of that and more, my heart breaks for them today.

 

A Mother’s Worry

 

“A mother who is really a mother is never free.” ~ Honoré de Balzac

 

My guess is that there aren’t too many parents out there who haven’t spent at least a few passing moments fearing that they just aren’t up to the job.  I know I’ve certainly done my share of wondering where I messed up and how I could’ve done things better.  Most times I simply have to remind myself that there was never a moment that I didn’t do the best I knew how to do at the time, and accept that there really isn’t much more than that to do.

Of course, I really have these moments of self-doubt at times when my son is facing any sort of difficulty in his life, particularly if it’s difficulty that he has either brought on himself or is somehow exacerbating.  Those are the times when I think perhaps I somehow didn’t prepare him adequately, or led him astray in some way.  But the truth is, it’s only my opinion that he might have caused or exacerbated his own problems, and I naturally have advice on ways to resolve difficult situations.  He frequently doesn’t agree with me, or at least doesn’t take my advice on how to fix things.  There are many times when it becomes painfully clear that we share a different world view on some key issues.  And even though that hurts sometimes, and even though I may remain convinced he’s not making good decisions, I have to recognize that he knows how to disagree with me because I spent his whole life trying to make sure he understood the importance of thinking for himself.  There are times I wish he hadn’t learned that lesson quite so well, and that I could simply tell him what to do and he’d blindly obey, but I know that would be doing him a disservice.  So I will continue to worry that perhaps I haven’t done as well as I might have hoped in the parenting department, and I will worry that my son may not always be taking the best path for his life, but I will try to cling to the idea that at least he’s following a path that he had the strength to choose for himself.

Sometimes, People Need Help

 

Guns don’t kill people; people kill people.  We’ve all heard it a thousand times.  And to a certain extent, I might even agree.  But that agreement stops long before a guy is shot dead in a theater for texting.  I mean, yeah, I get it; when the whole story comes out, we’ll probably learn that the shooter has some sort of mental or emotional issue that caused him to become so enraged over something so trivial.  I think we’d all agree that no one deserves to die for using his phone, so the killing itself seems to imply that the killer was not rational.  But that’s the actual problem.

Because, you see, even if it really is people who kill people, those people shouldn’t have such ready access to guns to make the killing so easy.  But as long as the gun lobby continues to succeed in whipping America into a 2nd Amendment frenzy, we will never be able to reduce the number of weapons readily available to a whole host of unsuitable gun owners.  Far too many people die as a result of gun violence, and we must find a way to not only keep that number from increasing, but reduce it until no one again buries a loved one just for being at the wrong place at the wrong time.  We have to find a way to protect ourselves from ourselves.

Does that put us on a path to a nanny state, as so many complain?  I don’t know; maybe.  But laws exist to make us insure our automobiles, wear seatbelts, get blood tests before we marry, file flight plans if we pilot an aircraft, etc.  There are already all sorts of things we are instructed to do simply because they help protect us—all of us, society as a whole—from the dangers that might be inflicted as a result of less than rational people; they protect us from ourselves.  Limiting the number of guns available to any Tom, Dick, or Harry, as well as restricting the Toms, Dicks, and Harrys who might be able to purchase them, is just another step that we must take to ensure a safer society. 

Because, yeah, maybe people kill people, but sometimes they have help to make it happen.  And sometimes they need help to stop it.

Putting Off Until Tomorrow

 

So, apparently there are some psychologists who believe that chronic procrastination is a disease or disorder of some sort. 

I’ve been thinking about this today because, as is the case just about every year around this time, the only presents that have been wrapped are the ones that I must put in the mail tomorrow (December 20th, mind you), and I’m not even 100% certain that all my shopping is done.  And let’s not even talk about the list of to-dos for both holiday and vacation—I think there are maybe two things checked off, with about another twenty still to do.

Life would be simpler if I dealt with things more promptly; I am quite certain this is true.  So, the fact that I still end up putting things off time and time again seems like maybe it is just a little bit crazy.  Honestly, I’d be okay with that, if it were true, as long as they could then find a cure.  But, then, I’d probably never find time for the treatment.

 

A Great Man Lost

 

I’m sure that I won’t be the only person who feels compelled to write a few words about the passing of Nelson Mandela, and others will likely have much more profound words than mine.  And, really, the main thing I am thinking is that I was truly saddened to learn of his passing, and that I think the world was probably better with him than without. 

Beyond that, I thought rather than try to say something about who the man was, I would let a few of his own words do the talking for me: 

“I hate race discrimination most intensely and in all its manifestations. I have fought it all during my life; I fight it now, and will do so until the end of my days."

"Resentment is like drinking poison and then hoping it will kill your enemies."

"Do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times I fell down and got back up again."

"A fundamental concern for others in our individual and community lives would go a long way in making the world the better place we so passionately dreamt of."

"It always seems impossible until it's done."

"Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world."

I think the best thing that could be done to honor him is to try and live these words.  Rest in Peace.

No TV Tuesday

 

 

On this Tube Day Tuesday, I have two things to say.  The first is that I heard on the radio this morning that today was the 50th anniversary of the premiere of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.  This really annoyed me, because I thought if only TPTB had waited one measly week longer, they could have aired this wonderful classic with a great build up of the awesome anniversary, plus had the added benefit of being appropriately shown after Thanksgiving.  Well, a quick check of sources say that the radio DJ was incorrect; Rudolph seems to have premiered on December 6, 1964, which not only makes today the wrong date, but also only 49 years ago.  But I’m still annoyed the network didn’t wait to air it. 

The second thing is that I have made the conscious decision not to watch any TV today.  And probably not tomorrow, either.  Why?  Because I’m tired.  It’s almost 10:30 as I sit here writing this; I’ve been home less than an hour, scarfed down some dinner, and still need to do a little homework.  And tonight isn’t really unusual; this is pretty close to my normal schedule.  So, even if I only watch one program every night, that still pushes things out at least another 45 minutes to an hour before I’m in bed, and usually I try to watch at least one program plus the news, so that’s closer to an hour and a half. You can see why I’m rarely in bed before midnight.  And if there’s more homework than normal, or more than one show that I really want to see right away, it can be as late as 1:00 or even 2:00 before I call it a night.

But tonight, I’m not going to give into that repeating cycle, even as much as I might enjoy the television viewing aspect of it.  I’m tired, and I want to go to bed soon, so no TV for me tonight.  And, as I say, probably not tomorrow, either, to give myself a chance to try and catch up on rest.  But we are expecting a winter storm to move in Thursday, so the Wednesday nightly weather report could be helpful, but I’ll just check it on the computer quickly, or have Brian watch and let me know what to expect. 

So, for two days, no TV and extra rest; I think that sounds like a really good plan.  But if you’re wondering why only two days off, when I could probably get really caught up on my rest (not to mention studying for finals) if I pushed my boycott just a few days longer, well, that’s an easy answer:  Thursday will bring with it a new episode of White Collar, and we all know Peter and Neal come first, right?

So from my strangely quiet living room, I will bid you good night.

What If?

 

        When I was a young teenager, I became fascinated with President Kennedy.  I read a bunch of stuff about his life and times, and formed an opinion that my generation (and those that followed) had been deprived of knowing greatness.  Or at least, as much greatness as can be found in a man.  I’ve said before that we might see him differently had he lived; he might have suffered the same fate as so many other politicians who somehow manage to self-destruct and lose their credibility along the way.  Or it might just be that slogging through an entire re-election campaign would have shone a bright light on his failings, which might have turned the tide against him, and maybe I wouldn’t feel like my generation had missed out on anything.

But that’s the whole point of the last fifty years, isn’t is?  We just don’t know what might have been. 

But I do know that my readings back in the day painted a picture of a man who was growing into his position, a man who wasn’t afraid to learn something new and perhaps change his course of action as a result.  Most important, he seemed to be a man who could inspire change.  We’ve never lived in a Utopia, so there have always been (and will always be) things that need changing, so it seems that a leader who can convince the populous to go out and make a difference would be a leader worth having. 

I’ve been listening to the pundits this past week, as the media has ramped up to this 50th anniversary of tragedy, and a recurring theme has been how much the country changed after Kennedy’s death, how there was an innocence lost.  And more than anything, I think maybe that’s what my generation was cheated out of.  That lost America they speak of—when institutions were trusted and people wanted to follow their leaders—that’s an America I’ve never known.  In my lifetime, it’s somehow been in vogue to question the establishment, to criticize our leaders, even though we’re the ones who put them in office.  And as that mentality has continued through the years, we’ve become more and more divided, less and less confident in the institutions that are supposed to serve us, and seem to have little true faith that the man in the Oval Office (whoever it may be) has our best interests at heart.  I definitely think we got short-changed in that department. 

But while the nation may always wonder “what if?”, and I will likely always believe that I missed out on the opportunity to grow up with someone truly admirable as president, I haven’t totally given up for all the future generations.  I mean, even if Kennedy’s legacy is glossier than it might have been, what if we use that as a template?  What if we all decide that we are only going to vote for people who really do have our best interests at heart?  What if we send the message that we want leaders who inspire, who aren’t afraid to try to make a difference?  Leaders who grow into their positions and understand that they have the opportunity to do good for the world instead of just doing good for themselves or their party?  What could we accomplish then? 

I hope that’s not just another question that will never have an answer. 

 

Monday, Monday

 

 

There isn’t really much to say today, except that it was a Monday, ya know?  Just an all-round, things-not quite-right-feel surrounding just about everything.  Even this post was supposed to be an easy-peasy thing—get it done and hit the hay.  That was almost three hours ago, before I fell asleep on the couch, laptop open, cursor blinking at me.  Now I’ve got a few hours’ sleep, a couple of lines written, and a big ol’ crick in my neck.  Joy.  I’m going to blame in on falling asleep before midnight, while it was still technically Monday.

Still, it was a fairly productive day at work, and I crossed quite a few things off my to-do list (I really enjoy it when the attorneys are out of the office), even if it did seem like things were slightly off-kilter.  I made it to class just in time for lecture, even though I was stuck in ridiculous traffic that caused it to take over twenty minutes to go about four miles (and most of that time was spent in the first three blocks).  And, I got to spend a short amount of time visiting with some fellow PTK members while we staffed a table waiting for canned good donations for our food drive, though we only had one actual donation in the time I was sitting there. 

Still, every single donation counts, and this particular gentleman waited quietly in the background while we talked with some other people about our goals, then timidly came forward to hand us a ten dollar bill.  We weren’t really set up to take cash donations—and it’s technically against school rules—but I wasn’t about to turn him down.  Especially when he looked like he didn’t have too many ten dollar bills to spare.  I thought it was a particularly kind gesture, and he looked very pleased when we took his name down and assured him we’d put his money to good use for fellow students. 

Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t such a bad Monday after all.