Garbage In; Garbage Out

It's rare, but things can be simple. Like, some kids grew up on lyrics like Neil Peart's words to the song "Grand Designs":

A to B --
Different degrees...
 So much style without substance
So much stuff without style
It's hard to recognize the real thing
It comes along once in a while
Like a rare and precious metal
Beneath a ton of rock
It takes some time and trouble
To separate from the stock
You sometimes have to listen to
A lot of useless talk
Shapes and forms
Against the norms -- 

....So much poison in power
The principles get left out
So much mind on the matter
The spirit gets forgotten about
Like a righteous inspiration
Overlooked in haste
Like a teardrop in the ocean
A diamond in the waste
Some world-views are spacious --
And some are merely spaced
Against the run of the mill
Static as it seems
We break the surface tension
With our wild kinetic dreams
Curves and lines --
Of grand designs... 

Other kids grow up with lyrics like those of today's country hits, like these, from Jason Aldean's in-depth philosophical treatise on Friday night throw-downs,"Light's Come On":

You’re a crack-of-dawn, Monday-morning (coffee strong)
Poured everything you got into a paycheck Friday night
You’re a plow with stroke diesel, backhoe-riding king of beers, 18-wheeler
(Driving, living life in between the lines)
Of clocking in and quitting time…
But then the six-string circus comes to town
We hang them speakers over the crowd
When the lights come on, everybody’s screaming
Lighters in the sky, yeah, everybody’s singing
Every word to every song to a girl to take it home tonight
When the lights come on, everybody’s feeling
A hallelujah high from the floor to the ceiling
Yeah, the drink that we’re drinking, the smoke that we’re smoking
The party we throw, it’s going all night long

I'll let you work out what the results are/could be. If you listen/listened to lyrics like the first example, you should be fine. If the second, feel free to email me for a handy list of interpretive guidelines.

Of January, 20, 2017 and Matthew 1, 8:6

As we approach the inauguration of soon-to-be President Trump, I hear the conversation shifting. I hear people chastising others for hoping Trump will fail; saying that if he fails we all suffer. True, I suppose.

I hope he brings us joy and prosperity. But, in fact I have no idea how he will actually do as President. In the end, I don't much care. I am dubious as to how much good or harm one man -- even the most powerful man in the country -- can do. I think that when a president does well, it is a combination of his efforts, the efforts of the rest of the government officials, the efforts and choices of the populace and of the circumstances of his given historical time. So, Trump could well be the president when things go well or he could be the president when things go due south on a jetski.

But, as I say, I really don't care. It is in the hands of fate (and of both the good and bad, hard-fighting elected officials) now.

What I do care about is that Trump's damage will be bigger than what he does as president. He is already a symptom of a dying culture. He is already a sign that any sense of manners, propriety and class are fading out of the American consciousness.

Now, our children will have a crass, loudmouthed, misogynistic egomaniac as their president. He is now the symptom of a societal sickness; on January 20th, he will become the cause of further decline. He is a bad example for our kids; for our people and for the world.

For me, it is not a question of agreeing or disagreeing with his politics. No, I really don't want to play the fiddle with a smile of self satisfaction on my face while Rome burns. But you will never hear me say that Trump is a good president. Not unless he becomes, all of a sudden, a gentleman. (For God's sake -- not, at least, until her pretends to be one, like some of his predecessors did. No, I am not kidding. It's like the difference between the student who fails but at least pretends his studied so as to show the teacher some modicum or respect... )

For a nut like me, being a gentleman is important. For a nut like me, sports figures and celebrities do have a responsibility to be role models. So, especially, does the President of the United States.

I know many Christians voted for him. I'd like to remind him of Jesus's words, in Matthew 1, 8:6:

"But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea."

Trump has shown us all dishonesty; a lack of compassion and a disregard of feeling for the unfortunate. His business practices are questionable, to say the least. He shuts down questions by raising his voice. He openly seeks to suppress truth by working to circumvent answering the press. He is a poor example for our kids. 

If we see a new era of prosperity, I will not change my opinion. Wealth is not cultural prosperity -- not all of it, anyway. Art, collegiality, manners, compassion, kindness...these are the things that foster prosperity. We can become a country of 98% millionaires under this administration and not become the least bit dearer in the eyes of God; or in the eyes of any gentleman or true lady; or in the eyes of history. 

To me, a "great" America is one in which respect and comportment are the currency of daily social commerce. Trump only knows one kind of currency. (If only we knew if he pays his taxes on it. as we have done with every other president...) 

"There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so"

Now's the time during which all of my social media friends start posting about their year. A lot are already summing it up as a horrid one as a result of celebrity deaths. Some just had crappy years; others, not bad one. I haven't heard any really good reflections on the year.

For some reason, summing up a year has never worked for me. I am not saying it is bad or wrong to do so -- just that it has never been something I am inclined to do. And thinking about evaluating my year sort of makes me feel a little squirmy, if I'm being honest.

I think of bad events as bad events, but isolated ones. A year is an artificial construct of the human need to organize its existence. Maybe this is all just another manifestation of my often-visited concept of the real versus the unreal; the idea that there is so much that we see as hard reality that is just plain phony. A "year" is just bookends on the shelf. We just happen to place it between 365-day cycles. It could have been anything in terms of parameters... What's real is the death of a loved one; what's fake is that he died on a "Tuesday." It seems really -- at the lest -- unhelpful to call a whole 365-day cycle "bad" because within the same span in which one's car was "totaled."

Contrary to what I said above, maybe it is bad. It's really a kind of pessimism to label a year as bad because it contained a few -- or even a lot of -- bad events. Yeah...see? I was trying to be nice, but I think it is bad.

I think my other "problem" might be that I have always naturally done what a lot of people seem to have a hard time with. I really seem to "live in the moment." (Sometimes, this can be a problem...but that is another post.) For me, though, benchmarks have never really meant much. New Year's Eve means nothing to me. Graduations have always been something to get over with. I knew, sitting on the football field of Eastern High School in 1986, that I would be no different of a person the next day than I was before... There really is -- cliche, though it may be -- only now.

David Bowie, Gene Wilder, the all-of-a-sudden-beloved Alan Rickman and, now, George Michael were not killed by 2016 -- they just happened to die within the artificial frame created by humans.

So, no, it wasn't a bad year. Not to me. I'm sorry we lost those people -- especially Gene Wilder. But I just can't make it work out to a post about how mad I am at 2016. It's like blaming the shoe box for the shoes' fit.

As I looked up who died in 2016 for this piece, I saw an article for The Mirror: "Why have so many celebrities died in 2016?" Are people really reading stuff like that for "answers"?

Each of the people we lost is bigger than a calendar with inked borders, so let's not reduce them to some superstitious cause. We might as well go back to blaming fairies for stuff.

Pleasant Medicines

What we all need to do is find pleasant medicines. This is a little north of the whole idea of a spoonful of sugar helping the medicine go down. The things that are good for us can be pleasant.

People have found this, but very few talk about it. Devoted runners, for instance, almost always love running. Some athletes are forced to run for their sports, but runners do it out of love for the process.

But I hate running.

I also hate lifting weights. And most other forms of physical exertion. So, not pleasant medicines.

I was inspired to write this as I finished my last sip of cold green tea a few moments ago. I brew it each week and I drink it throughout my work day. Since I started this, my weight loss per week (something I have been working hard on) has doubled. The health benefits of green tea are almost universally supported by research. And I like it. Pleasant medicine.

I have also been practicing yoga. It is making me stronger and more flexible. I could get stronger and more flexible in a million unpleasant ways, but yoga actually feels good when I am doing it. I look forward to it each day. I have never looked forward to any form of exercise. WhemI was an athlete, it was just something that came with the territory, as it were. I did it because I was forced to.

Can't we all find pleasant things to do that make us more healthy? I sure can't be easy, because it took me forty-nine years to latch on to a mere two "pleasant medicines." But I intend to look for more ways to do things that are good for me that I actually enjoy.

Everyone talks about healthful living as if it is a burden. It really does not have to be. But, as I find with most things, you need to be philosophical about it to be happy and consistent.

Bigger Than Trump

So here we are. President Donald Trump.

I am tremendously surprised. Never thought it would happen. But I am certainly not going to contribute to the over-dramatics.

It's no secret I don't like the man. He is, as far as I am concerned, a horrible role model for our country and for our kids. But that does not matter anymore. It has not, for awhile. Bill Clinton was up to all kinds of inappropriate hoo-ha in the oval office, and it didn't put an dent in his presidency or his legacy.

I still think The President of the United States should be a gentleman/lady, but I am in the minority.

I haven't had to think about that much, because our last eight years have seen a true gentleman in office. Many disagree with his actions and policies, but it would be hard to say he was not the consummate gentleman.

There are those who argue that it does not matter; that a worm can, in fact, be a good president (which, at this point, I certainly hope is true). But I still have a problem with the fact that my countrymen elected a man who refers to grabbing women "by the p--." And, no, this is not standard locker-room talk. This is misogyny. If you disagree, you are like Trump.

All that aside, I think we all need to calm down. We have spent months as ants under the proverbial sun-focusing magnifying glass.

We have a system of checks and balances. Trump will not become a dictator.

True -- it has happened in the past. But, in the past, the governments in question have not been as brilliantly conceived as ours. I still have profound faith in the work of the Founding Fathers. Their foresight will hold things together. I have never had less respect for a president, but I do not believe he will be allowed to run rampant.

The pendulum is at the top of its rightward swing. It will, as it always has, go back and find itself in an equally ridiculous leftward place and everywhere in-between, over and over, even after we are all long-gone.

But, most importantly, I would appeal to everyone's innate ability to perform a lost art: transcendence. Life is so much bigger than politics. Yes, I know -- politics in the hands of evil people can lead to the end of life or even to life-in-death. When it gets to that level, we fight. Before it gets to that level, we should fight with pens and protests, but, in the end, we still have something much bigger than laws and court rulings and unfair taxes. We have lives.

One human soul, "like gold to airy thinness beat," stretches wider and farther than politics, elections, government or the whole stretch of human history. Real change will come when we harness that; not when we strap ourselves into a flawed system and then complain about where it takes us and then argue about it on Facebook.

But, in the meantime, the morning after the election...

...love remained. Husbands and wives kissed each other goodbye. Music was beautiful as ever. Babies still smiled. And children woke up recharged by their dreams and hopes as they trudged with backpack-drooped shoulders through the crackling leaves. Dogs stretched as they did yesterday and cats cleaned themselves on window-ledges, as ever before. God sat, chin on one hand, smiling gently, waiting. 

What will we do now? Each of us? It is easy to vote. It is harder to do stuff to make things better.