Friends and Family On Missions for Christ

    I have some closer friends and family serving formal missions for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They are excited and inspired, and it is good or amazing to see their faith in action. I receive weekly reports on their thoughts, impressions, experiences, and stories.

    I was able to serve a mission for my Savior and my church from 1989 to 1991; it was a source of much joy, knowledge, and some heartache for me then and after. Reflecting on it since, it was an incredible time of personal growth; it had its limits as far as what could be done. We can only do so much. Now having served my country and military causes for my government contractor and as a uniformed soldier, I see these acts of service and pay (a mission is pro bono, whereas my military work was remunerated) are life changing, altering our perspectives and ways to engage with the world, giving us more understanding, more realization of what is or is not important.

    We work and serve with faith and with dedication, and as Christ has said, we render unto Caesar (the government) what is His, and we render unto the Lord what is His (our personal and collective causes, in this case spiritual and religious). 

    We celebrate the freedom to worship and preach freely, and to watch and support our family and friends in these endeavors.

    Way to go, my friends! Thanks for living for higher ideals and motives. For loving God and your neighbors. For dedicating yourselves and this portion of your lives to work with and serve others. Like my co-worker who served in the Peace Corps in Philippines, and my parents in West Africa a generation ago.

  

Negative Thoughts Should Not Consume Us

    Every day we spend a lot of time thinking. Some of it is dedicated to doing the things that we need to do in order to function in basic ways. Other parts of our time is in socializing, and working, problem-solving.

    We can spend some time reflecting, some of it on the past that was successful, good, memorable in good ways, but some of it can be negative. We can beat ourselves up for a lot of negativity, when we stress about it or do not let it go. Today alone I may have haunted myself with some negative thinking, some thoughts that I bring with me from past work or jobs.

    In 2015 I remember a work time when a co-worker that I liked said something about my skills or abilities which was, "That does not inspire confidence." It was, or I believe it was a nicer way than saying, "You are not very good at doing this work." 

    Right. Yes, that is what it was. It was a product that I could have or should have been better at handling, but I was not there at that time. Or perhaps ever. It was to do with Word documents.

    Anyway, I will not let that incident or time define who I am or how I think of myself.

    We have to let go of negativity and not beat ourselves up too much.

    There are many negative things that can push into our brains and crowd out the other things.

    We should crowd in, or gather up more positive thoughts.

    Like, in 2015 I was a pretty good worker, a friend, father, patriot, and I accomplished good things. Even though I saw a co-worker in that office die a young, unfortunate death, I was glad that I knew him and got to see his kindness. I had to "respect his authoritay!". He would joke a lot. Funny guy.

    Wow, Keith O'Donnell, you are certainly missed.

    And on the positive side, I gained a lot from knowing you, and many other people at that office.

    Keep going, be positive. It is all for our good. Even with sadness, troubles, and coming up short.

Keith Joseph Odonnell's Obituary - Alexandria, VA | Ever Loved

Questions not Asked About Active Shooters and Police Deaths

1. Do active shooters and some who commit suicide have a history of smoking marijuana?

2. Do victims of police brutality, like George Floyd and more recently Tyre Nichols, deserve any scrutiny for having taken mind-altering drugs? How about those who facilitated the drugs to them?

3. Was Tyre Nichols using an impairing drug when pulled over for reckless driving in Memphis?

4. Is race not an issue in many cases when people fleeing law enforcement are beaten and killed?

5. Who kills more people: those who sell and ingest illegal Schedule 1 drugs, or law enforcement in the United States?

Please be honest. I look forward to hear the answers to such questions.

Millions are asking how to stop these endemic, repetitive questions and tragedies. I am asking these to help solve the problems, and protect the innocent.

   No more non-guilty and innocent victims be victimized, buried too soon. 

Blog on... 

Indiana Men's Basketball: Winners on Any Given Night

    We got the Ohio State Buckeyes last night in Bloomington. I watched it. Freshman Jalen Hood-Schifino was crazy good in the first half, and maintained good play throughout. Sometimes super sub Jordan Geronimo was out with a leg injury, so freshman Kaleb Banks came in and put up some really good minutes.

    Guys who did not get many numbers all contributed: the coolest thing is, any of them on a given game can do really well: Trey Galloway, Miller Kopp, Tamar Bates. Race Thompson, of course. Still waiting for fifth year senior Xavier Johnson to get healthy, and with Geronimo back we may be able to handle Purdue and other top performers, to include Rutgers and Northwestern. 

        Yes, the Scarlet Knights and Wildcats have had our number! Iowa, too. We need to get back on them.

    But again, the team is balanced, and hard to predict, because someone now steps up and performs and wins. Malik Reneau has been playing huge, which is what I was hoping when I first saw him play in November 2022. 

    We may get all those guys to play big and be a team, and move on into March. It can happen.

    Can we do it? I think that we have a chance! 

    Go IU!

 COVID-19 Chronicles - For the Records

      BEGAN earlier in February.

      It starts with China, in and around Wuhan. What state is that? I used to know it, like I knew all the states of China...

HUBEI! Of course. Not Hebei. Hubei.

    So, something got going powerful in this city by the end of 2019. Reports were coming in by trickles and leaks, and by February 2020 we all knew that this thing was real and deadly.

    March brought it to another level. March 2021: a lot of wheels feel off the societal bus.

_________________

Just new revelations came out at the end of February '23 that the virus came from a lab. Chinese style.

    We all suspected this. Chinese are almost bigger liars than Russia.

    I meant to detail more personal travails with this dreaded pandemic, but I will publish this now.

    Regards,

    EMC.

Problems with Alcohol as a Comsumer Item

    Like tobacco, like marijuana, and other Schedule 1 drugs (no medicinal value, designated by the U.S. government), alcohol has serious problems that vex me. Sure, not all people are negatively affected by drinking alcoholic beverages. Got it. Does this make alcohol good? Only for some? Many consumers might argue that the person who imbibes is responsible for intake.

    However, a poison to some is kind of a poison to all. Well, beef and lamb are bad meats to a few people that I know. Poisonous to them. Not to the rest of us.

    Alcohol use apparently causes 30 percent of breast cancer for women.

    Is this true? If so, this is not good. We are talking pejorative effects to the degree of how tobacco ravages the users and second-hand victims who contract and develop cancer.

    What other poor effects are derived from alcohol?

    Drinking and driving. This has killed millions over the years.

    Impaired reasoning and memories.

    Weight gain? I guess this could be blamed on any fatty item, including many foods and treats that I enjoy, possibly to my detriment.

    

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjt-Ir-6ez8AhXRL1kFHRiyD3oQFnoECA4QAw&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.cdc.gov%2Fcancer%2Falcohol%2Findex.htm%23%3A~%3Atext%3DAll%2520alcoholic%2520drinks%252C%2520including%2520red%2Cthe%2520higher%2520your%2520cancer%2520risk.&usg=AOvVaw14uiV1rdVA4JK0mxlyfe1z

Billy Packer - A Voice of College Basketball - 1940-2023

Billy Packer - A Voice of College Basketball

    I got used to hearing him call games and discuss the analysis of the event that gets hearts racing in my hometown. We had some great teams, that helps. It was a constant, his voice and personality, as I would leave the country, move to the Inter-Mountain West. He was a consistent speaker to the sport; later I made it to California, the same thing there. Consistency.  I moved to Arizona for a season, and by then he was done with his telecasts. But did he do any regular season games? It feels like he must have done that the last 14 or so years. 

    Apparently, Billy was quite the player himself. He led, or helped lead, the Wake Forest Demon Deacons (great names, like the Blue Devils, so inspirational for Bible believers) to the Final Four back in 1962, when Robert Montgomery Knight was helping the Ohio State Buckeyes win in their days. Knight went on to be a legendary coach, first at Army, then Indiana, and finally Texas Tech. Packer was there to cover it all. 

    I think I will miss Mr. Packer, his presence and spirit. He was not the biggest voice of basketball, per se, but he was a luminary. I am surprised he stopped calling the finals way back in 2008. Perhaps he planned that with Knight. Coach Knight. (The last thing in Bloomington that got Bobby fired.)

    Anyway, we are grateful for a life well lived, a craft and talent that he could ply well. He was born the same year as my mother. We miss the class of 1940, those who came and went since then.

    Fare thee well, Mr. Packer. You did us all very well.

Blog it.

Legendary college basketball analyst Billy Packer, who called 34 Final Fours, dies at 82 - CBSSports.com

 We Remember the Holocaust Victims

    Today my wife and child listened to a survivor of World War II, from Slovakia. They were blessed and survived. A kind priest and a shepherd family took them in and saved them. This two-year-old baby made it. Almost killed for his religion. But gracefully lived. Millions did not. Over six million (I am always amazed and horrified that I read an article in the newspaper in the mid-1980s that an additional 250,000 Jewish victims were accounted for that until then, forty years later, had not been counted properly. A quarter of a million people!). The German nationalists under Adolph Hitler targeted and killed Gypsies, Catholics, special needs people, homosexuals, Jehovah's Witnesses, and others. Many were tortured, forced to labor, starved and left to die of awful diseases.

    It was bad. The worst. The Soviet Union took on the Germans, and thankfully withstood the onslaught.

    We remember the victims and the survivors. We look to never repeat such horrific atrocities. But as we speak there are the forced labor and concentration camps in China, there is the egregious war aged by Russia in the Ukraine, and millions suffer around the world.

    In our homeland we have thousands who die yearly from violence and neglect; but we keep the memories of this sad and tragic period of Europe alive. We cannot let this hatred and focused, systematic injustice happen again. We see China, Russia, North Korea, Iran, and others repressively deal with their populations. 

    As bad as life can be in the United States, it is much worse elsewhere. We have to stay strong and cognizant, to ever be vigilant to avoid such travesties and dangerous outcomes.

    We will fight for all rights to believe or not believe in God as we choose, to have freedom of religion, assembly, speech, and the rights to life and property.

    

Descending into the Underworld - Ascending Into the Universe

 Descending into the Underworld

    In the mid-west we could call it spelunking. Caving. There are some ancient mounds and old caves with old paintings and writings, petroglyphs, from old and sometimes forgotten tribes and indigenous peoples. I have gone in a few caves and sort of tombs over the decades back in Indiana and Kentucky, where there are some relics found. But not like the Middle-East. Different wave lengths.

    In the Middle East it is another thing, really. There are some deep underground lairs in other parts of North America that I must explore, sure. I did not go to Chichen Itza with my family last winter. I did not see tombs or depths in the middle of the Yucatan Peninsula, and there must be hundreds more across the Western Hemisphere.

    In ancient Israel and Palestine, and Egypt, I have plumbed some depths and seen the undersides of places, the spaces kept and preserved for centuries and millennia. 

    In Egypt, yes: inside the great pyramids of Cheops, in Giza. I cannot recall how grand it was; it was certainly not as majestic as depicted in Moon Knight by Marvel/Disney. In southern Israel, a tomb where the claustrophobic were not welcome. We made it from a small crawl, and a smaller corridor led us to a room that was very tucked away. No rain in August, no problem. A couple of students chose not to enter. I can understand why: it was very tight.

    In and around Jerusalem there are tombs and caves. There are the watery tombs or caves underneath the Ethiopian Church next to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher. The Garden Tomb lies outside the gates of the Old City, but we do not enter those. Or did we? Yes, we crawled and crouched in there, where some believe that Christ came back from the dead. Where perhaps the stone was rolled away. Other parts and churches have their basements, crypts, catacombs. Some are ossuaries, where many bones lay. 

    Around the bend from the city is the village of Bethany, where we hiked down steep stairs where possibly Lazarus was lain.

    In the city of Bethlehem, the great church lies over the basement where Jesus was possibly born; there is a room where Saint Jerome translated the Latin Vulgate version of the Bible, in the basement, around 400 A.D. That was a sacred and solemn place to me.

    In the basement of Al-Aksah Mosque in the southeast corner of the Holy City, these are ancient horses' stables, and mostly from those days of Jesus, or at least Mohammed. We were told not to take pictures because of its holy nature.

    We walked and almost swam the length of Hezekiah's Tunnel, created even before the Roman Empire, I believe.

    Where else? We did not see the Caves of Qumran, of the Dead Sea Scrolls, but we were close.

    We swam in northern-central Israel, at some natural springs. Some of us were caught below slabs of rock, which was scary when trying to find air to restore our lungs. Where else?

    Hmmm...

    In descending beneath the earth, I do believe it is possible to transcend space, time, imagination, history. I hope that I could capture this notion, this action, this experience.

    There was a half-covered rock cave area, on the way back from the Sinai Penisula.

    Mysteries and shafts of light are hidden and buried there. All to be discovered in our dreams, hopes, and memories. 

Friends in Jail, Locked Up - Thinking and Praying for You

    Most of us never get locked up. Most of us do not commit those crimes requisite to fit those sentences. Sometimes innocent people are imprisoned in jail and prison. I am pretty sure that Martin Luther King did not deserve his jail time. Did Joseph Smith in the 1800s? That is where he was killed, his second significant time in jail. Nelson Mandela, anyone? Behind bars for almost 31 years or so? Jesus was jailed before suffering his death on the cross.

    I have written about living and dead people, both those that I have known, and also about those that I never met. Famous and not so famous. 

    How about the imprisoned? I know a few. I will not write their real names. The older that I get, the more that I know.

    One guy imprisoned I know from Indiana, who had lived a few other places, but as far as I know he is locked up for a long time in my home state. I think that he was sentenced for child pornography. My dad knows more about the case than me. He knows the family of the person serving, as do I, but I think that he would see them more, more recently. My dad has strong opinions about his Church status, this prisoner of the state, which is a matter pertaining to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saint stake (Bloomington is the administrative center for such matters and decisions regarding removing names of those on the rolls of the membership, formerly known as excommunication). He may still be listed on the records of the faith. His soul is with God; from what I know his body is existing in an Indiana penitentiary. 

    I know a couple guys locked up in Virginia. Dealing with drugs, or violent assaults, or weaponry in the homes. Multiple felonies and misdemeanors. Both locked up for a long time.

    Who else? There was a guy in Florida that a friend and I tried writing to. That fizzled, it may not have been a real attempt at communication.

    While living in Utah I knew some juveniles who were locked up. I worked a temporary job with a guy who had served time, not too far away from where we labored. His buddy had broken the law and had not done hard time. Yet. I think that they tried to hurt me on the job. Not malicious, maybe, just spitefully indifferent.

    Yep. I saw juveniles in California paying their time, standing in lines, silent, reforming.

    We hope and pray that all of you may reform, may change, may work and live honestly. And please, stop poisoning your brain with marijuana and other ridiculous drugs. Stop it. Stop the insanity. Choose real life.

    We pray for your minds, bodies, and souls.

    

Rise of the Africans - The Future is Now

    I watch basketball. So, I think about the game: where has it been, where is it now, where is it going?

    What do I see? I see more diversity than ever before. We always have been interested in people of height, the big men (and women), in this sport that values length and reach. Speed and explosiveness are great, because smaller players and shooters and passers and stealers have always thrived in the game at all levels. But we need the big guys. Those dudes fill up the middle and the biggest factors boil down to who can dominate in the paint. Sure, there has been a trend for shooting more three pointers now, and the run and gun has always been a potential tactic based on speed, but the size helps and matters.

    Michael Jordan, Kobe Bryant, Lebron James, Larry Bird, and Magic Johnson were all U.S. guys. All could do everything. Bron Bron is still doing everything as I write this in 2023. They were all big and tall. Jordan was 6'6", but played like he was 7'2".

    All these greats were born and bred in the United States. And, they were not centers. North Carolina, Italy/Philadelphia, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan. Kobe was raised in Europe some because his dad (American) had played over there. 

    Centers and power forwards have always been huge (literally), integral parts of the game. You need defense, and the biggest, longest players provide it. On offense it is an amazing bonus when the big guys can do that, too. Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. They won multiple rings with others surrounding them. Others that did the things to keep the whole enterprise going. Passing, shooting, rebounding, defending. A big guy in the middle makes your team much more capable of making it all work. If he shoots, and moves well, even more so.

    When I was in middle school in the early 1980s there was a dominant African-born player named Hakeem Olajuwon who could do everything. He did do everything except shoot long range. His shooting was great, his footwork was amazing, his defense was fierce. He could pass. He could win. He won. An all-time great player, who hailed from Nigeria. Even in the 1970s there were jokes or rumors that African-born players would warm to the game of basketball and become dominant, a lot of that likely due to racial tropes and stereotypes. However, not a ton of these talents developed into true super-stars for the next decades. Manute Bol was super tall, and some others from some countries in Africa made names, in particular Dikembe Mutombo, but in numbers Africans never came into force as they were thought to be as possible talent, as intimated in a Kevin Bacon film "The Air Up There", back in the mid 1980s. 

    France and a few other countries had some great African-born talent, but it never really materialized. Europe provided more players, like Dirk Nowitski from Germany, Sabonis from Lithuania, Smits from Holland, or Petrovic from Yugoslavia.

    

    Where were all the great African athletes? 

    Well, now deep into our 21st century, there are a plethora of African-born talented guys floating across the college and pro-games. Some come from Europe, like Antetokounmpo (Greece), but more and more are coming from Congo, Nigeria, Ghana, Senegal, Mali, all parts of the continent. Sudan, Gabon, likely Angola. A country that had a player famously punked by Charles Barkley back in the 1992 Olympics.

    Now we have many, on almost every team in the NBA. College is strewn with many Africans; we sometimes struggle to pronounce their names, but they keep coming. 

    One of my favorite is OG Anunoby, who played for IU, did high school in Missouri, but came from Nigeria. His teammate is even better: Pascal Siakam. They keep coming, big and small. 

    The game has evolved, and now the game is an international who's who of nations everywhere. Not to mention Latin America and Asia.

    But I see it more than ever in the college game. African men (and maybe some women?) are part of the game, and it will only increase.

    Vivre la guerre du c'est esport. Long live the game of speed, size, talent, and courage.

    Oh, the thing about this summer NBA draft? Number one will be a large, lanky, talented, skinny, but super-strong African-born guy from France. He is 7'3" and will make some team pretty good. Or even great. Like the Rockets became with Hakeem Olajuwon a generation ago. 

    

INDIANA BEATS MSU at Home - Race Played Four Minutes!

    I am starting to really enjoy Indiana basketball again. The pundits and the fans and homers like me are thinking that the Hurry'n Hoosiers might actually be as good as the pre-season magazines had touted: Are we Top Ten? In each of the six losses there were reasons to think that we were not really good enough. Xavier Johnson went down with an ankle injury, and then Race Thompson with his leg... And the losses started piling up...

    We won 8 days ago against Wisconsin without their best player, then we got past... who was it? Ahh, the Thursday night game in Champaign. We handled the Illini! We played defense! And scored! Jackson-Davis is living up to All-American hype, and others are contributing. Jordan Geronimo has been doing great things. Malik Reneau is back to his aggressive, smart self.

    Even though I missed watching the game while I was at church today, I saw the score updates and savored the last 7 minutes of the superior score. Ahh, yes! And while talking to a big Miami Heat fan, before leaving my chapel (paging Victor Oladipo! hey-hey!), I saw that RACE THOMPSON was in the game!

    Yes! A sixth year senior who needs to contribute to get us there in March.

    March? Say, what, NCAA March Madness? Could it be? Hmmm... Kansas has proven beatable, as has Arizona. Anyone can lose! And IU can beat them! Like Temple tripped number one Houston today.

    We can beat Purdue, I know that we can. Might play a little Duncan Luncombe, or whatever his name is. He helped us beat Wisconsin.

    Next up, a poorly constituted Minnesota. Here is my projected minutes, adding Race to the mix. What if Xavier were good to return by February? Whhoooooo, boy! Deep, talented, and experienced again?

    We play defense now, did I proclaim that already?

    Trayce Jackson-Davis: 30 minutes, 18 points, 10 rebounds

    Jalen Hood-Schifino  : 25 minutes, 14 points, 5 rebounds

    Trey Galloway           : 25 minutes, 12 points, 5 rebounds

    Miller Kopp               : 25 minutes, 8 points, 4 rebounds

    Jordan Geronimo       : 25 minutes, 8 points, 5 rebounds

    Malik Reneau            : 20 minutes, 8 points, 5 rebounds

    Tamar Bates               : 20 minutes, 10 points, 3 rebounds

    Race Thompson         : 10 minutes, 4 points, 2 rebounds

________________

What does that add up to? 180 minutes, 82 points, 37 rebounds. 

That would work. Add a few more of CJ Dunn or Kaleb Banks, or Duncombe... And we hold the Gophers to under 60...

    On to Ohio State this next Saturday night! We can do this!

    GO IU!!! Fight, fight, fight! 

        

    

 The Big Man on the Boat

    This guy has not left my head. Not the man pictured below. The one in my brain is the one that I will tell you about. Verbal descriptions, nothing too special.

    He may bespeak life, or some aspects of life that I think about. In the winter where I am trying to cut the extra 15 pounds of extra weight that plague me, I think of this guy as perhaps typical or stereotypical of things. My bosses, my organization that I work for part time want me at 208 pounds. I want me around 215. I am at and around 225. Too much. I have to find the right balance. There is balance in life. Not going too hard, not too soft. Not too fast, not too slow. Going just right. Hard to find, a lot of times.

    This man was in the cafeteria open to all us customers near the back of the ship, deck number 9. I think. Or ten. There were a lot of people eating, there were tables by the windows looking out on the local port. Starboard side, I believe. Was it before we left, still docked? Had we finished our day on the Bahamian island? I wanted to sit close to the water horizon, and the part of the island by where we were docked, and see the things that I do not normally see. Boats, like a fast one with an outboard motor, or a tug, or a smaller cargo ship, scooting below us. We were high up, as I described. I think at this point I saw houses with their inland connections to the harbor, and not far on the other side the open ocean to the north.

    Freeport. A place, or city location, that captured my attention back in the 1980s because of USA Today, the national newspaper, the data source of my younger years. Especially when on vacation, I acquired this information diversion, like the vacation that I found myself on a month ago. Back to the good old days. Once is not enough, I heard the song again live the day before in Nassau.

    I am certainly no longer a young man; I hear and see things, I believe, with a more critical ear, heart, mind. I can be critical, surely, as I am criticized, and I find faults in others. But at least I like to write and I think I can make some hay from such matters. Here's hoping!

    This big man, perhaps in a Polo shirt, perhaps sporting long pants, came to the table of his children, in their late teens or early 20s, loudly complaining that the lines were the worst that he had ever seen and that he did not get any food. He was tall, and large. His belly would make some Santa Clauses appear feeble. His face was nothing to write home about, also girthy or stout, or plump, as you will.

    I looked at him and them (his progeny, normal sized) ahead of me, alone at my table, and the water and beaches and ocean to my right. Starboard side. 

    Complaints of long lines, obviously hungry, now "hangry": hungry-angy. Grumpy. This man was used to eating quite a bit. Like a few people on our ship. One of four thousand tourists, I heard said. How many of us were obese? Half? Maybe not that many.

    He sat, complained, spoke with his kids. I did not want to pay that much attention, but I guess I did.

    Modern problems. First world issues. Spoiled and fat, and getting fatter. I think I had a hot chocolate, but probably a few things from the more easily accessible dessert bar. I did not need much. I ate and drank well the whole cruise, by the way. No complaints from me, about my intake. I could find easier lines to infiltrate. My complaints could revolve around the concerns of others. Observe closely.

    Yes, I was fine with my tastes and purchases.

    I purchased two Bahama Mamas on the Grand Bahama beach, sans alcohol. Those parts are the trick, I surmised, since it had coconut rum and a couple other rum or tropical tastes. I did not get the coconut flavor because I am the opposite of a lush. I am a teetotaler, and happy for it. Less calories, less money expended, more memories saved. The religious part is apart from that, if you get my drift. 

    Less issues, keep it alcohol-free.

    This guy, he did not need spirits and sudsy libations now, he needed food. Substance.

    Gracefully and fortuitously, or on cue, his normal-sized wife appeared with a full plate of food for him. He accepted it. She had conquered the "worst lines ever", and came through as the hero of the hungry, big, grumpy man. He was assuaged. Thankful, I am sure. Filling his mouth, and his formidable gut.

    It was big, this gentleman's belly; too big for any healthy person, even for a tackle or center in the National Football League. The Eagles and Chiefs won last night, by the way. On to the Conference championships next week. But I digress. We are talking the week before Christmas, not the week before Chinese New Year.

    His stomach was big, his eyes were the same, for this reason. His mouth and voice and attitude were large, for these reasons. He had paid for food, and he needed it. More than most, I presume. He got it. Families work together, an efficient economy.

    This is my tale of the big man on the boat. 

    And life moved on.

[This guy pictured, below, from a random Google shot was smaller than the man I observed. Thanks, though, random Google image!] Ugly American? You tell me. We get used to what we are surrounded by and exposed to.   

I am the random observer making a deal out of this thing. It has stayed with me, and now maybe will stick with you.

Poor guy. Poor me. Woe is life on a cruise ship. 

Wealth and its Distribution

    Adam Smith, Karl Marx. Rather opposing views of how money and wealth goes around.

    We have all types of those with money and circumstance in the world.

    Rich, wealthy power brokers. 

    The rest of the people in the massive middle, us, in between. 

    We have rules and regulations, many people trying to do the right thing, helping all prosper, or at least receive aid to survive and make a living. We have high minded geniuses and tons of thinkers, planners, conscientious financial wizzes that help us make, save, and grow our money and investments.

    

    The destitute and starving. There are always them in all corners of the world.

     We have regular disenfranchised, and poor. Abused, exploited, and those that get addicted to terrible lifestyles that perpetuate them in negative cycles of living. 

    What do we do to stay ahead? Or stay afloat?

    Keep working, and fight for every penny, every check, every account. 

    Don't smoke up and drink up all of the value of your efforts.

    Or gamble. Then again, investing is risky, and a bit like gambling. Invest wisely.

    Time, efforts, liquidity.

    

Shoes Do Not Make the Person, but they Carry Him Across

    We recently got rid of a lot of pairs of shoes. Some were like boots, some like sneakers, some were for dress up occasions. Some belonged to my boys, but most of them were mine. These shoes, some of them wearable and others broken and chewed up, were donated to my wife's high school, for some kind of fund raiser and help for the needy. We give on. I think I got the best uses of the footwear. Usable or not, I hope they go on and give and give.

    Those shoes gave me some times. They got me some places. 

    I bought some Reebok mountain boot types, I think at an outlet in Kansas, many years prior, in 1997. I certainly liked them. They were brown (a light tan) and had black souls. The shoelaces? Never broke. Or did they? Were there traces of red in the blue of them? Estos cordones. I would wear these boots to work sometimes, especially on Fridays when the dress code was lowered. Fridays are dress down days in many offices. I worked in one office in Chantilly, Virginia, where people could pay five dollars to wear blue jeans on Friday. That was for a fund-raising cause. I wore those boots, even though they were falling apart.

How many times and how many years did I wear them? What year was the most that they were worn? Maybe 2001. Perhaps 1999. How many miles, outdoors and indoors did I take them? How often did they help me get from there to here? A lot. Let's say 1,000 times. Some days multiple times in a day. Were they the ones that I got dirty when I removed my dad's pond deck in Indiana? No, that was years before. Or was it? That could have been 1997 or 1998. Those boots got filthy. By the end of that task, I might have removed the boots and finished in bare feet. Hot and muddy and filthy job. But I did it, it felt good. Dirty boots and all.

    There were some running shoes, or basketball high tops in there that we got rid of. Although years before, in the older, smaller house, a mere mile or so from where I write now, in a three-story place with a basement that we now optimally utilize, my wife got rid of some shoes that I missed. For example, a red and white pair of high tops, that had run their course with me, perhaps based on weight. I thought of giving them to my friend Aaron, who probably weighs 30 to 40 pounds less, and could have used them for basketball, a sport that we tried to play a bit on Wednesdays, and the night games plus Saturday games with the stake, the old stake of ours, where we won the tourney one year. Good memories. I have worn lots of basketball shoes over the years.

    Another pair given away while at the old house (I guess no sale) were some black shoes that were dressy, but worn visibly. Scuffed. But I liked them; I still would have worn them a few more times. Since 2016 or whenever that was.

    Overseas I wore boots, both military and civilian. In Afghanistan I got a cheap pair of Chinese books that only lasted a couple of months, and the corners cracked and my German cohort complained when I taped the corners. I went to my expensive grey boots, and they were warmer, more comfy, and did me well in the winter and in the warm times. I would wear those in Chantilly on Fridays and other occasions. They were good, but I ran them into the ground, and we had to release them to a fate of the scrap heap. Some of my best pair ever. I will always remember them fondly.

    In the Middle East I wore the Army kind, boots with nice rubbery insole supports; it took me a few weeks to get those comfortable, but it went really well. My pinky toes became pretty calloused, but it all worked out. I brought some of my dad's shoes with me, and wore those for some things like church or a local close meal. They were a little snug, but they worked. I wore them last night to a restaurant. Brown, semi-sporty, but good enough for in between activities. I tried to not walk in them that much on base in the Arabian peninsula, or the Gulf, but they worked. I brought some running shoes that I would do for the occasional two-mile run, and the end of the tour division run. I bought a pair of pretty well priced high tops in a luxury mall in the capital city. I played a little in them. I did not play much, and I waited for December to risk it. Different story, trying to get my Army time to qualify for benefits... Title 10 versus Title 32...

    We got rid of some dress shoes, some of them worn and chafed, ready to move on. I bought some used dress shoes that I wear every week to work now. Sandals? Crocks? We moved some out, I guess. A full box of footwear, some of them good for immediate usage.

    And, that is my dedicatory to shoes and boots, sandals and footwear, past and present.

    I am thankful for the carriers and protectors of my feet. They took me to many countries, cities, jobs, parties.

Not these. Mine were skinnier, dorkier. But they were cool. For a quarter century, almost.

As They Lay Dying - Part Four

    There are three of us step-children to Doris that are part of the story. I am one of them. I cannot get into the heads of the people, (except for myself), but some brief summaries, maybe.

Step-child # 1 - My oldest sister was 21 when Doris and my father were married, attending college locally in Indiana. From what I knew, she got along well with Doris and her family nearby. She moved on to live on the East Coast, in four different locations. This distance was probably a good thing when reviewing the situation now. Moving closer to home this past summer, things have become more complicated with some relations, and there is the husband, the step-son-in-law involved too. 

Step-child # 2 - My other older sister, who was 18 close to 19 and beginning college when Doris and our dad met and got married. She actually spotted Doris on campus to begin the connection. Add 34 years, the relationship ended in sickness and in a less than amicable fashion with her living half the country away. This daughter moved away within a year of their betrothal, moving across the country to five different states, ending up 1600 miles away for the last part, almost twenty years.  I think that she always got along with Doris and the extended blended family, even though she was pretty far away. The local children of Doris got to know the ex-brother-in-law of step-child #2, who was mostly out of the picture after 19 years of marriage in 2010, more than a decade prior to now. This person, my closer sister, has likely been the least involved in any of the drama and acrimony of the last two years.

    Step-child # 3. Me. I tried my best to be a good son and step-son. I have my foibles and limitations, but overall I think that I and then later my wife and children were able to contribute to the joy or contentedness of Doris and my dad. I lived with Doris and my father the two years prior to my mission, the year after my mission (age 21), and then for two more years between living in Utah and California. I owe a lot to both of them and they have been super good to me as parents, friends, and supporters. I have never not got along with the local Doris family, the sons and daughters, biological and married into the family.

    Step-grandchildren of Doris # 1-12. All of them lived pretty far from Doris, but I know that mine would spend quality time with Doris and my dad, including attending Doris' church at Christmas service, multiple times. I am not sure if anyone else in Doris' family would ever attend Doris' church with her. Mine did, and I thought that that made her happy. I know my children experienced good times with her and my dad, especially after the death of their biological grandmother, my mom, back in 2014.

As They Lay Dying - Part Four

    She is gone over a year now, but there are people that have been linked through her, in her wake, who are now divorced from each other and still grieving her loss. The Faulkner classic did not involve step relationships through re-marriage. The characters of that story and family were all closer together, socially and geographically, a time long before ours. Maybe 3-4 generations ago. All of us white Americans. There were no emails and social media to communicate in those days. Faulkner tried to understand the survivors of the pivotal mother from all their points of view.

     What would our thoughts be if represented through words and placed in book? The main characters would be my father and his step-children, and a spouse, maybe one or two step-grandchildren. 

    The cleavages were real, the pains were felt and lived, and now remembered. It was an unfortunate breakdown of how things developed.

    I am more compelled than ever to read Faulkner's best works. I will read or re-read them with a more critical eye, a more aware heart or emotion and understanding that family ties and death are not an easy process, and we have many parts to us that cannot be easily contained or described.

Those Who Went with the Adults and Those Who Stayed Behind

    In Scouts we went camping, and sometimes we would hike. In March of 1983, my troop did some of both. Problem was, instead of all of us doing the hike as planned through Hoosier National Forest, which may have amounted to 18 miles, which is a lot, some stayed behind, and they did not have adult supervision. In their boredom the boys unsupervised burnt trails through the pine needles around the campground. The night before a few of us took a boat, a small rowboat, unsupervised and without proper life jackets, went out on Lake Maumee. I was part of that group, I admit it.

    I went on the hike, though. Bobby, Evan, and maybe Channing and a few others did not join us. And that was a sign of disobedience, perhaps disrespect towards our adult leaders, and perhaps against the purpose of the excursion. Why stay behind? Why rebel, or dissent?

    We all have our reasons. The night before some of us explored the lake on the boat and saw same amazing wintry stars. We were doing risky things, and we incurred some punishment that summer for our water sally and the burning of the grounds of our campsite. All this before the summer season of the hundreds and thousands of us that would be there. I was twelve, my parents had split up. Life was real enough. Bobby had a single mom. Evan had a decent family life, we thought.

    I paid some of the price with the others later that August. We learned some lessons.

    But I feel like those who chose not to take the hike lost out the most.

    Forty years later, and that is what I see and perceive.

    

    We were young and foolish, we made decisions that might indicate our future plans and fates.

    Maybe.

    Maybe not.

    We should take the hikes and journeys, and make good decisions.

    We cannot guess if the past will indicate the future. But sometimes the way to take the Ring of Power to Mordor is fraught with peril and wonder, and many questions to ponder.

    I do.

Nelson Cruz Will be Back Again - 2023. Old Guy Getting it Done!

    With the Padres, who should be pretty good.

 As They Lay Dying - Part Three 

    Figuring things out through great literature. Possible? 

    When we have problems in our real lives, can we derive answers and solutions from works of fiction and artists who have dealt with such issues in their stories, characters, plots, themes, emotions, messages?

    Maybe. William Faulkner wrote a book that I had to read about a matriarch who died and the aftermath of those connected to her. I read it in 1989. Here in 2023 I am sitting on questions regarding persons of my current and former family. Things went in weird and/or painful ways since the illness and death of Doris (name changed), who lived a really good life worth celebrating. I was her step-son. To some, step-children are not readily brought in or considered a true part of the family connection as original or biological parents and children. Sure, that is a consideration. The modern blended families are not the same as yesteryear, yet families and emotional and social links are verisimilar to times and peoples of all ages.

    I write these things not to cause further pain, confusion, strife, or animosity, but possibly to shed light on my family, our situation, myself and others, to potentially understand what has happened in the wake of Doris, who left this mortal realm in 2021. Less than two years after her original terminal diagnosis, we are still picking up the pieces, it might be said.

    We all have points of view, perhaps similar to what the difficult "yet great" novelist William Faulkner wrote of: love, identity, family, health, anger, etcetera.

    So, I build up the characters from my point of view... Trying to keep this anonymous but somewhat accurate.

    Faulkner used 15 characters from their own standpoints during the burial of their mother. I cannot pretend to do that, to get into all their heads. I will share what I understand. This is not fiction, but it involves conjecture. Could this fiction of the past by one author help us understand things better?

    Maybe. Perhaps not appropriate at all. But, I am left in a real-world lurch about these things, and I am trying to piece them out.

    Grandchild #1 - The oldest of Doris' grandchildren, she is a divorced mom with a small child of her own, making Doris a great-grandmother. She is usually soft-spoken; I have never detected much anger or venom from her. As Doris was dealing with the original weeks and then months of the terminal diagnosis in the spring of 2021, my father would update Doris' two children and the other three stepchildren through emails regarding her status. I, as the youngest stepchild, (again, a teenager when my father married Doris 33 years before), regarded the emails as a decent effort to keep all of us abreast of Doris' condition. I was surprised to see an email reply to my father addressed in a rather crude or harsh way, saying, more or less, "we are not interested in these emails about you." As in, she implied that these updates were about my dad, not Doris. This accusation or suggestion confused me. I can understand that a lot of people may not be pleased with my dad and how he communicates, but I thought that the kids or even grandkids would appreciate news about her.

    Apparently not. It seemed to have upset the grandchild, who spoke for her parents as well, according to her email. 

    There could be some things that I was missing in these emotional missives. I was told many other emails went back and forth, many of them "nasty", or mean. Maybe so. There was later interaction with the emails, which eventually Doris saw herself, according to a source that may be reliable. Or not. She is gone now; she cannot speak for those turbulent times. Turbulent, yet there were good things while she lived. From my perspective. Perhaps is the last thing that she would want to discuss or think about. But for me, I am still wrapping my head around the circumstances.

    Grandchild # 2 - A nice guy, always. As all the grandchildren have been, as I always observed. He lived a few hours away from the main core of Doris' children, who lived pretty easy driving distance from Doris in southern Indiana. Unlike the first grandchild, #2 seemed to stay out of the parts of the family that was closer by. I am not aware of any involvement of animosity between the parties with him. This would be surprising to me. Of course, there were a few surprises to a few of this event of sickness of the mutual loved one and the subsequent death.

    Grandchild # 3 - This grand-daughter, who lived in and around Indianapolis, seemed to be closer to my dad's sympathies, which seemed to be manifested after the funeral when communicating with him, and showing some more efforts to console him with the death of Doris. Part of the confusion of the whole entanglement of my dad in 2021 and since, the longtime husband losing his wife, both well in their 80s after 34 years of happy marriage, versus the children and their spouses living close by who grew to have hard feelings against the step-dad. I suppose he may have provoked or escalated the hard feelings, and communications, but there has been a lot of he said/they said that has been difficult to decipher.

    Thus, my writing and making conjecture of this whole situation. I am trying to arrive at the truth, perhaps find some answers, get some lessons learned, and maybe foster some reconciliation. 

    I do not want to continue the bickering and accusations, blame and guilt.

    Grandchild # 4 - A child of the daughter of Doris who moved the farthest away, for the step-grandkids. She may or may not have been part of the poor communications when Doris was sick and dying, at and around the funeral, but she later posted on social media some rather harsh feelings and words against my dad, based on the squabbles and exchanges that had occurred between him and his step-children and at least one step-grandchild, aforementioned.

    I know this may seem to be really partial and biased, as I review my words, but again: what was really going on during this whole time? Were people trying to help Doris enough, on all parts? I think that she was shielded from a lot of it. Also, she was getting forgetful, so that might have been a saving grace in her last months alive. She is free from such cares now, and we are grateful that she is with God.

    Grand-child # 5 - The youngest of the five, living close by and working in a good earning job. I am not aware that he and his spouse have had any negative dealings in the whole matter.

What was going on in 2021 with all these people? Was it all on my dad who made it untenable to deal with Doris for the other family members? Were people doing their best to reach out to and support her? Was Doris' husband perpetuating a negative cycle of communication and relations?

I am convinced it did not have to be this bad, this last time of her life. It caused a lot of heartache and consternation. For me it still does. I hope it can go away or abate. Some.

    I will read William Faulkner with newfound attention and appreciation. The complications, emotions, and impacts of these family and human relationships will move on to others in the future. Faulkner saw into these things, undoubtedly why his works are considered of such high quality.

Understanding the human condition and spirit, one human life and death at a time.

More People, including myself, in Part 4 

Top 10 College Programs in Men's Basketball All-Time 

1. Kentucky

2. North Carolina (maybe them first)

3. Kansas

4. UCLA

5. Duke

6. Indiana

7. UConn

8. My son said Villanova...

9. Louisville?

10. Hmmmm.... Ohio State?

 As They Lay Dying - Part Two

    Delving into the past and present, the inner and the outer. Letting William Faulkner try to enlighten me, based on reading a book that was hard to enjoy way back in 1989. I understood it, I think and recall, for my 18-year-old brain, my senior year in public school; I could understand some pretty deep concepts for my age. As much as I can now, whatever that means. I was reading some good literature since I was 8, 9, 10 years-old. I had read a good share of science fiction, fantasy, but quite a bit of non-fiction and some classic literature, too. Always expounding on holy scriptures. That may help. I felt like I could understand, or at least tried to comprehend "big-people things" from a young age.

    Why do we read what we read? Why do we write what we write? Think what we think? And how do we explore things and thoughts? Or not? I cannot tell you all the reasons. We are trying to figure some things out. Analyze this, as the movie says.

    I am not trying to dig up new wounds about my family and me, but maybe I am trying to discover and reason out some things that have happened, that have transpired. Things that might be explained, stuff that might be solved, resolved, or at least we can potentially make some sense of it, resolution or not.

    Doris' Closer Family

    I gave some background about some of the people of the one who has passed in Part One. Perhaps I write this more dispassionately because of my place in the family. I cannot tell for sure. Forgive me all if this is not appropriate. But putting some "pen to paper", ink to see, share, develop, analyze, scrutinize, may help me or others.

    I hope so.

    Did Faulkner help anyone? I would think so. Did he help me in 1989? Does he help me now?

    We shall see. Or we might...

Doris' First Husband - I do not know much about him, I never met him. From all accounts that I know, he was a decent guy who had his two children with Doris, they divorced, and he worked and retired out of state, to the south. Not Mississippi. (It is not that connected to the novel or novelist, I do not think.) 

    Also, a former husband may not play into the picture that much; I am guessing not. He passed away maybe around 2010. Again, not really my family, nor too much of my concern, but obviously integral to Doris' children and grandchildren. And therefore, even passed on, the first husband may sort of play into the psychology or sociology of the affair. By affair, I mean the transpiring of the life and death of Doris, and the subsequent divorce between he and them.

    I hope that she, my step-mother, would mean me no ill will, nor feel hurt by me writing this quasi-analysis now. She of all people enjoyed and cherished certain books and literature. I am trying to approach these issues in an artistic and creative way. I read a few of those books by some great writers thanks to her, a retired librarian. Would Faulkner himself think my own conjecture in print as foolhardy or naive, or some kind of maniacal mind wandering across depths or tides that need not any tracking? Am I purely rehashing dead or non-sensical ideas? 

    What would William Faulkner think? Does his spirit and art and ideas linger into the known universe? Apparently.

    Welcome back, sir William. We have kept the thoughts, themes, and stories alive somehow.

    To you. And us.

    Doris' Second Husband, my father - This is probably where it all emanates; me, her, them, all of us. My dad is pretty complicated in many ways, to interpret it one way. Then again, others would testify or opine that he is unstable or now at an advanced age and is not competent. Of course, he believes otherwise, and he will tell you why. Sound mind? Has Donald Trump ever been of sound mind? Has Joe Biden? All politics aside (which is impossible for some people), one man's genius reformer or dynamic maverick is another person's psychotic narcissist or out-of-control fool. Take your pick.

    So, things went sour, bitter; life went weird, sideways, mean-spirited, afoul. Many of us questioned: were all these feelings present all along, and simply hidden, uncovered, and unexpressed? Sublimated? Freud, Jung, and a thousand psychologists may have the explanation for such phenomena, but I think I conveyed the message of what happened. Things broke down between the closest parties of Doris.

    I have known my dad for over fifty years. There are many things about him that one can take negatively, but he also has many positive points. Things went into a perpetual or escalatory set of negatives between my father and Doris' children, children-in-law, and some of the grandchildren. Heightened or brought to a peak at the beginning of her health crisis and eventual passing, all in 2021.

    Doris' Son - A good person by almost all standards. I have liked him always; I have never had anything negative with him or his family. His children, my step-nieces and nephew, have been family to me since I was a teenager. We have spent many dinners, parties, and even some choice vacations together. But as Chinua Achebe entitled his classic novel, Things Fall Apart". Things ran amiss between him and his family and my dad. Not between him and I, but he and my dad. Which is connected to...

    Doris' Daughter-in-Law - I think it is safe to say things got very acrimonious between this person and my dad. As Doris' terminal illness was discovered in spring of 2021, it appears that things got bitter right away, which also involved Doris' daughter, to be described hereafter. Now, I am not doing a Faulkner here, I am not in the heads of these characters, these family parts, now at the passing of the main subject in question. I am guessing or making speculation as to how or what these people think, because I am admittedly biased and there are parts to the other peoples' thinking that I do not know.

    Safe to say that much of the blow-up or acrimony was surprising to a few of us. Let's see if any of this makes more sense...

Doris's Daughter - Like the daughter-in-law, who has been around when Doris and my dad were married my junior year in high school, Doris' daughter has always been there since she came into our family's life, she married to Doris' son-in-law, a person that I have always gotten along with. Both of them. Same story. Doris' daughter felt hurt back when her mother was hospitalized with the original diagnosis in April, or May. Things were confusing and have been mixed up in my head, as I was moving from one place to another with the military.

    The Initial Rupture of Anger and Frustration - Maybe

    

    So here is a story that needs investigating, because the details have been shared on at least two sides: 

    Doris went to the hospital or doctor's office for an appendectomy, in Indianapolis, an hour away from home, and then things got ugly. They discovered that she had advanced cancer, and the prognosis was not good. The doctors gave her 6-12 months to live. This hit her and my dad pretty hard. And everyone else.

    So, my dad and Doris get the news, they hold Doris in the hospital, and apparently, she was feeling really bad. Things got tenuous, as in they needed to keep her their overnight, or for multiple nights, and she was feeling really awful even to the point of death, then. I get some conflicting reports of how bad she was then. To make matters worse and with residual hard feelings, the daughter and the daughter-in-law wanted to visit Doris in the hospital at that time, but my dad told them no. I heard on my side from him that Doris herself asked not to be seen by them or anyone. So, he respected her wishes. On the other side I am told that my dad was the one who prevented Doris' own daughter from seeing her mom at such a dire time, and this was terrible. 

    If my dad made that decision on his own, with no input from Doris, that is pretty awful on his part.

    There's the rub. Who is telling the truth?

    

    It gets weirder, or whackier, or uglier after this. 

    I need to do this in a part three. Thanks, William Faulkner. I blame you.