100 Things About Me, for Me, to Me Significant Pt. 1

100 Things About Me, for Me, to Me Significant part 1 of 4

(Begun in May 2019)

1. Divinity. A lot of people start their lists with God, like the tablets from Moses on Sinai. I am not sure about the Hammurabi Code, or the Magna Carta, but you get the point. My point about God and me is that this exists, whether you believe in Him as I do or whether you know or care who I am. God and me are a thing; we are not static or cookie cutter. I believe we all are. Unique. He is, you re. And as billions believe, God is great, so try to show some respect and deference; one of my mottos. Must be careful how we tread, always. Easy to be flippant and glib, but holy things deserve our best foot forward, or backward.

I think I could blather on about this topic for a few books. Others have done it before, likely better. That suffices on the subject of the Divine, for now.

2.  Maps. I really like maps. They show a lot of things, tell a lot of stories. Like people, or planets, or scientific laws and treatises on the universe, much so much simpler and cuter to absorb, to fathom.

3. Books and their authors. This is the best thing since sliced bread. Documenting in written form articles, reports, novels, poems, songs, epics, scriptures? Nothing against sliced bread, but books and their writers are right next to the divine. A book does not even have to have a cogent map or reference to God to be genius.

4. Sports. I could break this down into its respective parts, like basketball, baseball, bowling, and golf. To each his or her own. If you have ever been passionate about a sports player or a team, you get it. If not, someday you should understand, because that is how a lot of us tick. It helps me organize a few things, if nothing else.

5. Music. This is a vast and spiritual if not intellectual and sociological universe. Music to the ears. We don't say that for nothing.

6. Justice. Some can conflate this with God, which is fine by me. Admittedly, both can be elusive. Coincidence? Possibly. Sure, probably. Justice and God belong together, as well as their apparent absence from cases...

7. Languages. I have spent significant parts of 5 decades trying to get a grip on different languages. They are sweet and awesome. I hope that I have another 50 decades to attempt to track down all the languages that elude me.

8. Love. Love at number eight, after being a life-long Beatles fan? Love should be bigger or higher than number eight. Up there with God. It deserves books, too. I realize this order is not particularly reflective of a prioritized list.

9. Wife. I could not have done better. I could have searched for a thousand years and not find a better person.

10. Children/kids. They have been real work and real joy, with some moments of wonder and fulfillment. They motivate me to work more, work harder, and to share.

[Separated by away time in Louisiana. Answers/explanations are now shorter. Must find paper on which I originally wrote the list.]

11. Father. Would not trade him. He is a hero in many ways.

12. Mother. Unique, wonderful, flawed, emotional, spiritual, great.

13. Family. I am a brother to all. I am commanded to love my enemy, and forgive all their trespasses as they forgive mine.

14. Economics. Fascinating and frustrating. Those who understand how to make things work: trade, taxes, inflation, interest rates, financing... Genius.

15. Nature. We need it, it needs us. It inspires and keeps us alive. We must respect it, enjoy it, and preserve it.

16. Countries. There are hundreds on paper. 200 or so. There are also thousands of them in fictitious realms and universes. Each collective entity poses myriad fascinating possibilities and realities.

17. Geography. I love it. For 16 years I have contemplated a Doctorate. If I were to get one, it would be cultural geography. I have spent many hours and days trying to understand earth geography and many aspects of it. Arthur C. Clarke is probably my favorite science fiction author because of his expostulations of geography, which involves a lot of cosmology. I have spent time memorizing the states of Mexico, Brazil, India, and China. I recognize that there is so much more.

18. Elections. I follow them, especially national votes and referendums. Some votes I have followed meticulously. USA Today in 1994 was an example, or the Iowa Caucus in 2008.

19. Computers. Use them a lot, they are tools to our world. I like spending time working and playing on them. The technical glitches are a constant source of frustration, probably worse than cars.

20. Movies. They are bigger than life, they can become life. I watched two yesterday, a day when I woke up and played basketball, cleaned the church, came home and read and did computer stuff, got my teeth cleaned, spent some quality time at the library and read the paper and checked out more books, watched baseball, and did Boy Scout certifications.
I wanted to be a film major for a few years, especially younger, to help create some. That desire or impulse is there, but it is related to my relationship with writing.

21. Television series. I have seen parts or whole episodic series across the decades. Gilligan's Island, Love Boat, Star Trek, M.A.S.H, Cheers, etcetera. They become part of our thinking and dialogue, especially the characters. Alex P. Keaton, Sam Malone, Frazier?

22. Radio. I listen to it more as an adult than I did in my youth. It influenced me for a the year in Afghanistan, in my 40s. Pop and jazz, classical and talk. Commuting and moving in vehicles it is huge.

23. Internet. Ahh, how times changed in my mere lifetime. Wikipedia is a thing. Sociality has changed. Much less newspapers. Much more "online time". Like right now.

24. Board Games. I have played quite a few throughout my life. Does chess count? I learned at age 31 and I have overplayed my share.

25. Temples. Marvelous, majestic, firm, inspiring, family connecting, history provoking, cleansing. I could go on, like with most of the above.

Tune of the Skye Boat, [Crucible]

Tune of the Skye Boat, [Crucible]

Tell me your name,

And I'll tell where you're from,

Over the sun blest sea.

Give me a sign,

And I'll show you where,

God has created me.

(Chorus)

Tell your name,

Give a sign,

Show what you will to give,

Watch for my hand,

Watch for my eye,

All things God must forgive...

Tell your name,

and I'll show you where,

Under the massive sky.

Sing a sad tune,

And make it your own,

Reach for my head on High!

Tell your name,

Give a sign,

Show what you will to give,

Watch for my hand,

Watch for my eye,

All things God must forgive...

Sing a sad tune,

And make it your own,

Fly with the birds and breeze.

Come runnin' on,

Forget the tossed waves

Over the raging deeps,

Tell your name,

Give a sign,

Show what you will to give,

Watch for my hand,

Watch for my eye,

All things God must forgive...

Come runnin' on,

Forget the tossed waves

Over the raging deeps,

Do what you can,

Remember His name,

Get rest and go to sleep...

Tell your name,

Give a sign,

Show what you will to give,

Watch for my hand,

Watch for my eye,

All things God must forgive...

Fly to me now,

Look up to the sun!

Follow the voice inside...

Float on the wind

Soar like a bird!

Conquer the upward sky!

Tell your name,

Give a sign,

Show what you will to give,

Watch for my hand,

Watch for my eye,

All things God must forgive...

Fly to me now,

Look up to the Son,

Follow the voice inside...

Float on the wind

Soar like the bird

Heaven above is nigh!

[Written in the heat and dust coming out of the "Box", Vernon Parrish, Louisiana.]

 

Bryce, the Struggling Phillie, 3 Short of 200 Career Homers

Bryce, the Struggling Phillie, 3 Short of 200 Career Homers

Bryce continues to move up the list despite  his team's woes and his new fan's boos.

357.	Michael Cuddyer (15)	197	R	HR Log
	Josh Donaldson (9, 33)	197	R	HR Log
	Bryce Harper (8, 26)	197	L	HR Log
	Dave Henderson (14)	197	R	HR Log
	Dick McAuliffe (16)	197	L	HR Log
362.	Cliff Johnson (15)	196	R	HR Log
	Ken Williams (14)	196	L	HR Log
364.	Jay Bell (18)	195	R	HR Log
	Toby Harrah (17)	195	R	HR Log
	Josh Willingham (11)	195	R	HR Log
367.	Russell Branyan (14)	194	L	HR Log
	Jeff Heath (14)	194	L	HR Log
369.	Amos Otis (17)	193	R	HR Log
	Jason Varitek (15)	193	B	HR Log
371.	Ray Durham (14)	192	B	HR Log
	Carl Furillo (15)	192	R	HR Log
	Manny Machado (8, 26)	192	R	HR Log
	Al Rosen (10)	192	R	HR Lo

Machado, making more per year (I think), is right behind him and the same age.

Bill Buckner Gone! 69 is too young...

Bill Buckner Gone! 69 is too young...

He was part of a lot of us. He plays a part of me. Why?

Why not?

For those who paid attention to baseball in 1986.

A fall guy, a tragic hero. 

A great guy.

Rest in peace.

Parenting is a Horse Trip of 6,000 Miles Part 1

Parenting is a Horse Trip of 6,000 Miles (Part 1)

If you are a parent you should understand this allegory. If you are a child you should understand it, too. I have been feeling and contemplating such things as an adult parent lately. I think of it, this extended metaphor, analyze and share it in order to understand myself, others, and life as I know it.

Parenting is like taking various travelers (depending on the number of children) on a journey on horseback for 6,000 miles. The point is to get them there, and it requires sacrfice and work. Others, everyone, share the ride and the journey; we all are going along the same ride for more or less of the same path. The way includes plains and and moutains, rivers and obstacles, great views and exhilarating moments, highs and lows, times of peace and peril.

6,000 miles is roughly representative of the amount of days that a child will be a dependent subject to their mother and father, give or take the time of pregnancy until the age of 18. After 18 years of age, this is not the end of the journey in toto, but the metaphorical voyage of 6,000 miles of youthdom has been reached; then it is on to bigger things as a more mature, more independent, more autonomous person.

Adulthood awaits after the journey of being a child, the first 6,000 miles.

Parents are horseman, with steeds that amble as they may, as adult custodians have been gifted and earned responsibility over times and circumstances to be purveyors and guides. Each rider, now a guide of their own sort, has been trained in their own fashion and custom, usually formed in a lifetime themselves a great deal by their parents before them. These horse riders and guides have recollection and access to their own journeys of a former six thousand miles. And, as life is amply evident, we observe and learn of the rides and sojourns of countless others. Some accounts we know and intuit greater than others. Some may not seem to have any corollary for some. 

The metaphorical horse journeys of a billion Chinese or another billion Indians of the sub-continent may not have any appeal or rhyme or reason to the New York city dweller, or to the central African villager. Yet, we are all born of parents. Almost all parents have similar hopes and aspirations for their young. From the arctic poles to the tropics, all of us are wending our ways across time and space. Parents are universally hitched to their charges. We all have access to the knowledge of the horse journey. Unfortunately, not all children or parents have a horse that works in the best manner as horses do. Perhaps some people have horses with severe faults, or the analogy of a horse is not right at all. Mules, donkeys, burros may be more fitting for the metaphor of how we take the trail of life. Some are so disadvantaged at birth and during life that perhaps there is no metaphoric comparison to any animal. Some people have to lug their own way without the greater vehicle of an animal to help carry their burdens and ease the way. This would be people born without limbs... good bone structure, mental and genetic weaknesses. Some of them we "carry" on our horses.

Originally for the story of this allegory I did not want to involve more than horses, i.e. mules and donkeys and camels and elephants. We could argue that some people have naturally more powerful or enduring beasts of burden like those larger steeds mentioned. The horse analogy is close enough to a real truth and still complex with intricate nuances. We will continue to compare our individual and family life-path composition and wherewithal to horses, for the purposes of this argument.

The Way

Horse riders and their caravans have many different approaches to riding, traveling, feeding, inter-marrying, socializing, helping others, sharing, saving goods for future contingencies, etcetera.

So, this is a metaphor. An extended metaphor, an allegory about our diversity and uniqueness.

The horse that we ride --and the way we ride it, the adventures arrived at thereupon-- is a metaphor for our mental, physical, social, spiritual, educational, and personal life and posture.

After those first six thousand miles of youth, likely alongside our own parents, most of us keep going on the earth. Some go onward to 12,000 miles (age 36), 18,000 miles (age 54), 24,000 miles (age 70), and on beyond for many. Interesting, perhaps, to note that the circumference of the planet is approximately 25,000 miles around, and that by making it to 70 plus years perhaps the journeyperson has made it "around the world". Not in eighty days, but in a lifetime. My own mother, a horse guide to me and others, lived to age 73 and some change, which is approximately the equivalent of the circumference of the earth. I am glad she made it that far. Notably, for some of my five horseriders, they have not been able to ride along with her since 2014, and my parenting and skills have lacker her direct input as another source of a surrogate mentor guide along the way.

I cherish that the older ones remember her. I hope some of my recounting can assist all in keeping her "alive" and present along the trail. 6,000 miles and beyond. She and her gilded horse, a unique and powerful, fun and funny

For my youngest, who was only turning three at the time of my mother's death, it is somewhat unfair that she hears much about the legend of this horse rider, not able to witness her horsemanship with her own eyes and ears as she is now approaching her own first 3,000 miles. And yet, there is comfort in the fact that shared stories and memories can bring this person alive to a young rider, and the lessons learned and recounted will have a living effect on those still ambling along.

Videos, photos, journals, memories, all those things considered as family lore or even genealogy help us co-riders move along with background, context, and orientation for our own individual and collective trips along the the way.

Jim Morrison and the Doors have a famous song called "Riders on the Storm." Fitting for him, Morrison, a rider in rougher pathways who faced steep challenges along with the successes of life, this gifted musical talent who left the path at age 27, 3,000 miles into adulthood. A renowned book about him has the attention of some; a few readers take stock in it and account for their own pathways and methods of moving along.

I have still not read it. I would like to. Hopefully before I am 54. There a few hundred other books that I would like to read before then... There are a few that I would like to write.

Sharing and recounting the voyages, the journeys, the rides, of our co-travelers is a large part of what I like to do. I see, I witness, I fathom the rides of people past and present. I compare, I contrast, I assess and I judge. I remember and I forget. Life is "pasajera", as they say in Spanish. (Translated from Google: "transient". I heard the "pasajera" saying a bit when I was younger. "Transient" may not capture the Spanish meaning, to me, but it comes close. Ephemeral might work better. In 1 Nephi Nephi writes "like a dream." Perhaps ephemeral like our dreams. Surreal and hard to either grasp or hold on to. Difficult to make tangible and nearly impossible to retain.

The brain, the mind, and the soul cannot recall all things at all times. Yet, we continue our journey, on our metaphorical horses, remembering with clarity or not.

We move on, we press on, we age and we continue along our way, riding the horse or even some other beast of burden, no matter what way we choose to ride the steed. It is possible to digress and wander, to lose our way and/or remain stagnant upon the path. Sad and tragic cases come to mind.

As a small child my father would take us to visit the young lady who was crippled for life when she sneeked out of her house as a restless teenager; she was nearly killed in a car accident. She did not die, but suffered brain damage and physical harm that left here in a convalescent home. That is where I met her. As a small child she was a little but scary, but we could tell she was nice.

I will call her Jaycee. I happened to see here many years later when I had reached adulthood. Parts of me had forgotten about her. I had spent those years since my younger years at her bedside traipsing around the globe and delving into other worlds and their respective cultures. Meanwhile she was in the same building, as I recall. Was her "horse" taken from her?

In this allegory, Jaycee's horse was crippled or physically eliminated. She became a non-self sufficient person on the pathway to 6,000 miles, 12,000 miles, 18,000 miles. We cannot control all things. Her dad became the primary care-taker for her, and eventually the state or another family member.

Our choices only take us so far. Fate steps in, too. 

End of Part 1.

Vietnam: Reflecting in my 40s

Vietnam: Reflecting in my 40s

Ummm, I thought I had written about this and saved it a couple weeks ago, but I just re-opened it and found nothing...

Not sure if I thought it out more than I actually wrote...

For the record, I start a lot of blog posts and articles and save them for a while before finishing. 

How did I start it, if I already did? Let me try now, two weeks from doing an Army thing down south...

Each U.S. conflict and war has left its wounds and scars on its people and those who it engages with in those aggressive campaigns.

We (most of us) Americans like to think that we are fighting for the right when we get involved in military matters. This feeling of correctness helps substantiate the violence waged in that action, large or small, short term or long term. Right or not, the soldiers, marines, sailors, enemies, and civilians involved can become traumatized. Searching for understanding of these things can have its effects, too. Millions are left with mental and psychological wounds, along with all the physical ills.

I think that some of those effects, after-effects, if you will, have touched or impacted me.

Vietnam and its bloody long war in Southeast Asia had us questioning the rightness of it. It haunts us still, in 2019. Perhaps it haunts me, like all somber events in our human history.

Read up on it all you can; I have my own personal feelings and perspectives on it. They are many.

1. Growing up in the 1970s and becoming an adolescent in the 1980s, I was aware of the the major military conflicts and wars of my country before 1960. I knew a lot about them at a young age. Vietnam, ending for us in April 1975 when I was four, was a mystery to me. Not many people talked about it. I was unaware, and it took me by surprise when I was 10 or 11 years old.

What was this? Where was this? Who was this? Not Koreans, not Chinese, not Japanese... Another East Asian enemy, called Charlie and worse... And from my own era, not those of my parents or grandparents or before...

2.  These U.S. veterans were traumatized in large part because the wounded and otherwise non-injured survivors were pilloried and marginalized, by us, the American citizenry. Millions spat upon their efforts and service.

3. There were gross errors committed throughout our involvement in Vietnam and Cambodia and Laos against the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese. Civilians were too often hurt and brutalized. The nation suffered greatly; it was a long civil war where the U.S., like the Korean conflict before it,

tried to support the southern democratic government. But this was not Korea, we came to sadly learn.

4. The overall effort to stop the world wide march of Communism was noble to those of the West; the Domino Theory seemed like it was true. Thailand was saved, although ironically a few short years later the Viet Cong saved the Cambodians from their tormentors the Khmer Rouge. 

5. I watched movies and television series about Vietnam over the years, as our nation was dealing with the whole mess. Some resonated, some horrified, some showed beauty and reconciliation. I saw some foreign films, usually French made, about the country.

6. I grew to know people from Vietnam here in the United States. I also worked with and befriended Americans who loved the Vietnamese people and culture, I learned more about their food and drinks and hospitality.

7. Moving to Virginia well into my thirties, I began visiting U.S. Civil War sites, Revolutionary War markers and memorials, modern day cemeteries that hold the graves of countless U.S. fallen heroes from all the years past. I looked at their names, contemplated their stories. I reworked the campaigns of the known generals and leaders, pictured the innumerous narratives of those on the ground.

8.  I joined the military myself, rubbed shoulders and swapped tails with hundreds and hundreds of soldiers, marines, seamen, air force personnel, coast guard, international forces, those that have sacrificed. I worked overseas and I even had a Vietnam veteran roommate for a few months. I got to know my knew step father-in-law, a wounded Marine vet from the heat of the peak of the war, the late 1960s, when hundreds of ours were cut down monthly. The last major war of our country, although Afghanistan and Iraq have taken their toil on us, our psyche, our collective guilt.

9. Into my forties, becoming a more mature father and husband and uncle, (hopefully), but perhaps more acquainted with the grief of loss and longing, I found myself thinking more of the terrible losses of those who died, who left their best years ahead of them, their potential children unborn and lives unfulfilled. Vietnam was not as bad in total numbers of casualties for our troops as the World Wars or the U.S. Civil war. I observed my own dad getting emotional about it, thinking of his peers who passed away and I saw that proclivity in me. I could get teary by certain songs or memories, or recountings of the terrors and tragedies. I gathered my own stories of loss and death, both of Vietnam and other eras, including my own.  Some people believe most of my stories somehow involves someone who dies. It happens. I sometimes found myself getting hyper-emotional when contemplating the past and the remaining wounded from Vietnam. Not depressed. Melancholy in an empathic way. I consider it sublime, since we do die in so many ways for the causes to be thought of as for a higher cause, for some reason we gave up these lives so tragically but there is a meaning to each life. Silver linings populate the clouds floating over the fields of our lost ones. Many have no marked graves; they remain in the earth and sea.

10. Vietnam is now our friend. My step father-in-law went back there with my mother-in-law and his son in peace and friendship. They fear China, a bit like us in the West, the proclaimed Communist Party leftover. Our mostly young men who died there, others tortured like the incredible John McCain, have left a legacy of effort, blood, and tears for us and the world.

Mistaken mission? Improper military strategy? Were countries like Malaysia and others saved from these totalitarian regimes? Hard to know, difficult to assess. Poor analysis of the will of the nationalism of the Vietnamese versus the threat of their Communist ideology?

Mixed answers of yes and maybe to all of these.

Reflecting and remembering is the best I know to do; I will do it for the foreseeable future. You might be able to understand why after reading this. I don't know all the reasons myself, but it influences how I and we see things. Do not repeat errors of the past; count your blessings, and move forward with all possible lessons learned to make a better present and future.

Long live Vietnam.

Self-Definition

Self-Definition

As my oldest child is swiftly arriving at her age of legal adulthood, it has become a time of perhaps more self-reflection than usual. Earning my education degree in my late 20s provided a time of reflection on my life at that time, especially in the educational psychology class of spring 1998; perhaps establishing a standard for future reflections and self-assessments. I think it was a propitious time for my own inward self-search and the subsequent journal documentation, since I had spent the previous two plus years "finding myself" after a college degree, i.e. working, dating, investigating professional and academic opportunities and fields.

One note of self-analysis: I was bent on obtaining a college degree as my own parents had not done. At least no 4 years Bachelors. They helped me do that, and I kept moving.

I proceeded to work in different fields, not many with substantial success.

Exploring a bit.

More on individual and collective reflections: recently I have been able to speak with my own octogenarian father, some on the past, which is an interesting exercise. I can remind him of things long forgotten from 37 years ago, or more.

I am approaching 50. No small feat.

No huge deal, turning a half century, nothing too special. There are millions, almost billions presently alive (2019), who have achieved that milestone. Nothing big, but still an accomplishment. Reason to celebrate. Usually. Hopefully.

Turning 18 is a cool deal too, a reason to cherish. It is an achievement both by the individual and the parents involved, and the entire village that raised him or her, as more popularly coined by the generational source of enlightenment, Hillary Clinton. Politics aside, no offense meant, just poking some fun at a representative of the government and political community that has spurned and otherwise used me for years. Long live our diplomats and the greater U.S. government!

I love them and serve them, as they do us. Exclamation points, for emphasis. !!!

Sarcasm to be interpreted as it may. A little Vonnegut-esque barb.

I digress. Which is somewhat like reflecting, self-analysis.

Writing.

We all develop self-identities and characters based on our own traits and those of our parents, role models, cultural touchstones. Could be teachers, coaches, artists, world or local leaders.

Most of us figure out who we want to be, who we confide in, how we think and process, by accepting or rejecting, collecting or offloading knowledge and habits and customs and styles, some strongly influenced by our parents, siblings, peers and cohorts. 

Accept or reject what I say.

Trust but verify.

Figure out who you are, who to put confidence and loyalty in, what you trust and how you operate.

Have fun.

Define yourself with care and aplomb, with some regret but a lot of trying.

Be who you are, if even you believe you were meant for such things.

I think all that is true.