It's that time of year when students don their caps and gowns, eagerly lining up to receive those diplomas, while their duffel bags of laundry sit in the mud room back in the homes of the Moms and Dads who are still trying to figure out what comes next.
Alas, I have not been approached to speak at any commencement ceremony this year. Pity. I have a lot to offer. As arrogant as that sounds, I am actually a human being humbled by my experiences. Looking back at the decades, life turned out to be more than I ever expected. Every day, I rub elbows with the young, the impressionable, the hopeful, and I remember what that was like. As someone who has seen a lot, heard a lot, who took both the highway and the road less traveled, I would like to impart some of that wisdom I acquired the hard way on life's rocky byways. These are lessons I learned that made a difference in my life, and so I pass them onto you. If you feel they are worthy, pass them along to a young starry-eyed graduate.
1. Learn to Respect Boundaries
There are three kinds of property in this world -- Public property is open to all. Semi-private property is usually possessed by a group of people who have a shared interest and offers common areas to those with permitted access. Private property belongs to specific individuals.
Who bears the responsibility for public property? Each and every one of us. It is our job to take care of it. Don't assume your mama or papa will come along with a mop and broom to deal with your mess. Have some self-respect and pick up after yourselves. This is especially important when you're out in the wilderness, tossing down beers with your buds. Don't dis Mother Nature and leave your party trash behind. You'll irritate the crap out of Her and that trail of broken glass will probably take out the tire on your mountain bike when you least expect it. We call it Karma.
Who bears responsibility for semi-private property? The group that shares ownership. If you are a member of that group, you have responsibility for maintaining it. That means what you do to it matters. Don't leave your toys out for other people to trip over. Visitors should obey the rules of the shared property if they wish to remain on the premises. If you are an invited guest, respect that reality. If you are an unwelcome intruder, you should expect to get your ass kicked, so don't whine when you get called on it.
Private property is owned by specific individuals. Just because there are not fences, that doesn't give you the right to trespass. Just because you have the desire to go there, that doesn't give you permission to be there. Whether it's land, homes, relationships, or the Internet, learn to tell the differences. People have a right to privacy, even to those legitimate skeletons they hide in their closets. You may not like the secrets other people keep, but unless they are connected to real crimes, it's none of your beeswax, kiddo.
No means no, not sorta, kinda, maybe. This is especially true when it comes to sex, risqué behavior, and digital photos. There's a difference between being on the doing and receiving end of things. Before you push the "send" button, ask how you would feel if someone did this to you. Funny is in the eye of the beholder and the beholden. Share appropriately, with the understanding that, even though other people very often ignore the rules, that doesn't make it okay for you to do it. Be protective of your family, your friends, and naive people. Err on the side of caution. Sometimes exposés are more about making people famous than actually righting a real wrong. Never stumble over a line in the sand. If you are going to go in, go in with your eyes wide open, mindful of what lies on the other side of that line. Make sure you know who you're dealing with, why you're doing it, and what the ramifications are.
Know your own boundaries. What are you willing to tolerate from other people? How far are you willing to let others intrude into your life? When you recognize those limits, understand that other people may not see life the same way as you. Some may trample those lines, others may push back long before the lines are reached. Understand that how you define space isn't always how others see it, so learn to recognize and respect boundaries.
2. Never Take People at Face Value
The truth is some people are born liars. They'll sell the carpet right out from under you, even as they smile. These are the predators who will take and take and take until they are stopped. They manipulate the malleable without any display of conscience. Don't be like them. Don't stoop to their level. Raise the bar and make them jump it on your terms.
You will find yourselves sometimes engaging with the snakes of this world, so learn to tell the harmless from the harmful. Once bitten isn't always twice shy, so know who and what you're dealing with and how to protect yourself. Practice your snake-charming skills. First lesson? Never turn your back on a venomous viper.
Don't let bad people be your excuse for being a jerk. Rise above the ordinary and be someone truly special. Even if it's sometimes lonely at the top, let your light shine anyway. People will follow the warm glow of your beacon and be drawn to you.
One true friend is always preferable to hundreds of false friends, and having another human being you can count on is critical. Don't settle for "okay". Go for quality, not quantity.
Birds if a feather really do flock together, so know who and what you are. Starlings are pests -- obnoxious, noisy, and determined to claim squatter's rights on your turf. Cowbirds are parasites -- they'll toss your poor little eggs out of the nest and sneak their own in for you to nurture. Imagine the nasty surprise you'll get when the eggs crack open and you're stuck with somebody else's offspring. Which reminds me -- don't mate outside your own species.
Know the company you keep. Be cautious when mingling with the untrustworthy of the world. Better still, surround yourself with ethical people and learn ways to survive in this world without compromising your morals. It's a good way to remain on course when you set your goals. These are the people who will offer encouragement and push you on your way.
And yes, morals really do matter. It's not about how many beds you hop in and out of -- it's how you conduct yourself in everyday life. Are you trustworthy when no one is looking? Can people count on you when the chips are down? Recognize and appreciate goodness in yourself and others. Discover what real strength of character is all about and understand that personal power comes from utilizing people skills in effective ways -- teamwork matters and you want to be a member in good standing.
Before you engage in a relationship, know what matters to you. What are you willing to accept in a partner? What are you not willing to accept? Don't expect to change someone into what you want him or her to be. People aren't clay to be molded and shaped according to your artistic talents. Know what you want and look for those existing qualities in potential mates. People put on their game faces when it comes to romance, but at the end of the day, you don't want to find yourself sleeping with someone who wears a mask, unless it's a sleep aide. The dashing Zorro didn't wear his black eye disguise to hide his bad side; he wore it to protect his good side from danger. Walking on the wild side may be a popular, risky thing to do, but unless you enjoy walking on broken glass, eggshells, and hot coals, don't go looking for trouble. You've got a lifetime ahead of you and there will be plenty of unexpected, and often unwelcome, opportunities to rub elbows with disaster.
3. Always Use a Safety Line When You Climb
Be mindful of that mountain you are scaling. Know that a slip of the foot can cost you dearly. You want to reach the top in one piece, so use a safety line. That back-up plan takes into account the fact that you don't have eyes in the back of your head to monitor what you don't see. It's not always easy to back down from a confrontation, especially with a grizzly bear, to think ahead. Remind yourself often that you don't want to go ass-backwards through life. That's self-defeating behavior.
That safety line does two important things for you. It keeps you tethered to reality and it gives you the courage to go higher than you might otherwise climb. Make sure it's sturdy and strong, because you will do more and be more with that security. And move it up with you as you go, so that if you do fall, you aren't tumbling all the way down that hill.
Know all aspects of the journey. Think Jack and Jill. They needed water. They had a pail. They climbed up to the well at the top of that summit. They filled the pail with water and that extra weight created a big problem. It changed Jack's equilibrium (Physics 101, in case you missed that class) when he took that first step and the water sloshed in the pail. He fell down and sustained a traumatic brain injury. Jill, no doubt panicking at the sight of her companion doing the human snowball down the hill, followed in his wake. They lost everything and got hurt in the process. Do better by being smarter.
4. Don't Let the Boogey Man Scare the Bejesus Out of You
There are more than enough real bad guys in the world. Don't let the imaginary beasts, goblins, ghouls, and things that go bump in the night give you the heebee jeebees. Recognize the difference between real danger and imaginary danger. Live in the real world, not the virtual world. Pay attention to the man behind the curtain, not the activity on the stage. When you are aware of what is really happening, you can put it into context and manage your fears.
Don't be afraid to turn on the bedside light when you think there's a creature under the bed. Grab a bat if you must, but have a look. Otherwise, your imagination will run wild all night long and you will dream of monsters that don't even exist. Then again, if there is something alive under the bed, at least you'll have a running start. And a bat. Make sure, before you swing, that there's real danger.
Speaking of bats, as in the flying variety, if you ever find yourself in the room with one, don't freak out and start waving your arms wildly in the air. It's hard for them to think straight when there are crazy creatures making lots of noise. Open all the windows, turn off the lights, and shut the door when you leave the room. Bats aren't stupid. They eat bugs. Bugs live outside. No bat I ever met actually wanted to hang out in a house.
5. People Matter More than Possessions
There's a difference between self-deception and being deceived by deceivers. Don't fool yourself into believing in illusions. Keep your feet on solid ground when it comes to the mystical and magical. Know that what you do here on this earth matters far more than the promise of glory in a world unseen and unexperienced.
Practice kindness every day in ordinary ways. Put the shopping cart into the cart corral at the grocery store, not because you're trying to save the store money, but because it gives your fellow shoppers the chance to use that parking space where you might otherwise leave it. Make eye contact with the people you pass. Connect with your fellow human beings. You might notice someone in need of a kind word or get a smile in return.
Treat other people the way you want to be treated. Sure, there are always going to be idiots, dopes, jerks, and screw-ups who won't get it, but what about the ones who do? They more than make up for all the snarky people in the world.
Real people are always far more interesting than virtual characters. While it may seem easier to deal with fictional people we can direct in a game, there is a real richness in meeting the challenges provided to us by real human beings. We are never more irritated, excited, frustrated, or rewarded than when we interact with living, breathing creatures, even when they won't do things our way or recognize how very special we are. Sometimes finding common ground with the people around us is the biggest prize of all, because in that moment, we realize we share much more than we realize. We can agree to disagree as long as we co-exist in harmony.
To be continued....
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Vampires, Psychics, Magical Beings, and the Vietnam War -- Why Is Fantasy So Dangerous?
It's all the rage -- vampires springing to life from the dark shadows, only to attack, psychics predicting earth-shattering events that are suddenly headed off by divine design, and any number of fairies, leprechauns, and fairy tale characters come to life. This is what sells today because it is the Age of Imagination and Virtual Reality. We think, therefore we create.
I loved fantasy as a child. The Borrowers? They were a wonderful little family, weren't they? And what child wasn't moved by Charlotte and Wilbur? How many spiders lived because we thought they could talk to us?
Later on, as a children's librarian, I had enormous fun reading fantasy stories to kids. Let's face it -- there are some absolutely hilarious kiddie books out there. Some feature magical storylines that take us away from the ordinariness of our lives and transport us to a new, unfamiliar land, where anything is possible. Whether it's a trip to Howl's Moving Castle or a visit to Babe's farm, there are wonderful characters and terrific adventures to be found in the world of books.
But as an adult, I draw the line at fantasy for one very big reason. I had a first-hand, up-close, too-personal look at the world of phony psychics.
When I started out, I was an educator and I worked with hospitalized kids. It was on the heels of the Vietnam War, the controversial era in American politics. At the time, I was rubbing elbows with a number of experts in the field of medicine, and some of them had some pretty specific beliefs when it came to US involvement in Southeast Asia. They wanted to abolish the military once and for all.
The first rule of medicine is "do no harm", but very often that is a judgment call, and in the case of psychological warfare, a case can be made according to the decider. Among those I met most determined to use psychological deterrence to convince Americans to turn against the war were a child psychiatrist, a couple of nurses, several social workers, a psychologist with a specialty in dissociative disorders, and a prominent cancer surgeon. They were backed by some pretty powerful and wealthy benefactors, ready to put their money into the pot.
In order to understand the complexity of psychological warfare, it's important to understand this was still a volatile time in America. We had lived through the Cuban Missile Crisis, lost a president, and had finally emerged from an unpopular war. We were on the edge of engagement in Central America and the antiwar movement was desperate to turn American support against the possibility of embroiling the nation once again in combat.
One of the first things I learned from these very determined antiwarriors was that they had significant financial resources. They set themselves up as non-profit organizations. Money poured in to cover the houses, cars, boats, travel, in addition to the psychic fairs, classes, and gatherings. Many of their supporters were willing to fund all of their activities, which meant they could concentrate on finding what worked to turn people away from war and towards their cause. And what worked required some back-up operations.
So many people believe in psychic phenomena without questioning how or why certain thoughts occur to us. As was my training in education and psychology, my understanding how how the brain perceives information and processes it was critical in being able to remain on my feet in the face of enormous psychological pressure. When you become a target for psychological warfare, especially by people determined to use you to manipulate others, there are certain markers you will usually find.
Psychological warfare is a process that requires supportive measures. Normal adults might be fooled for a time, but then the doubts start to creep in when the illusions and the messengers are absent or fall away. In order to successfully convince a target that psychic phenomena is real, it is imperative to isolate the target from the normal support circle. You don't want your victim to compare notes with others. Why? Because that's when it all falls apart. So, what is required to maintain the illusion? Smoke and mirrors. Mind manipulations. These people were determined to dissuade people from going into another war, and they were willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.
Oddly enough, they were a small, yet influential group, and they tended to work in concert with one another. The professor who specialized in dissociative behavior had scads of college students rushing to take his classes, because he was a well-known expert in the field of near-death experiences. What was it like to come back from the brink of death? How did those who almost died then transform their lives?
What happens when the professor promotes people with histories of mental illnesses and attempted suicides as having returned from death, without ever having to prove they actually did? What happens when these Near-Death experiencers claim they met cosmic beings on their journey and now channel wisdom to save the planet? That's an experience that is anecdotal in nature, and if it's never really verified, you're asking people to assume it's true and act on that basis.
One of the dark, dirty secrets I learned early on was that these people really did compare notes and plan their antiwar campaign. They went after rich benefactors and the sons and daughters of the wealthy, looking for vulnerabilities they could exploit. A number of people succumbed, including a woman whose family owned one of the largest tobacco companies in history. Guilt is a very big baton to wield on a daughter who feels the weight of having wealth because people smoked. Her mission became one of supporting the dying, through hospice. Personal tragedy took its toll early on. Married to a psychiatrist from another prominent family, she was the victim of a brutal attempted murder by a disgruntled patient. Her husband did not survive the assault. All these years later, one must wonder if that murder had anything to do with the psychological warfare techniques being developed, either for the CIA or for opponents of the CIA. Had the psychiatrist pushed too hard? Had the tactics backfired?
One thing this group of antiwarriors had in common was their determination to manipulate Vietnam War veterans to speak out. And yes, they did actually have connections to antiwar groups long before it was hip or cool. They were opposed to nuclear warfare, taking root in the early "Ban the Bomb" movement.
Personally, I have no problem with people opposing war, provided they use democratic avenues to voice their dissent and engage in lawful activities to change public opinion. But is it okay for them to manipulate a vulnerable population without disclosure? Absolutely not. It's a violation of civil rights. It's unconscionable to anyone with a modicum of decency. And yet it happened, under the nose of the American people. The method was simple. Fool the people into believing magical powers are real and then convince them that certain individuals can actually commune with the cosmos. Next thing you know, you've got a generation of believers. Believers you can manipulate. Believers who become the front for your agenda. A modern version of Willi Munzenberg's "Innocents' Club".
It's important to understand that these were a group of health care providers, used to working with people in need of psychological help. They knew how to not only create psychological programs, but also how to work the system when things went bad. Emotional coercion was a very big component of what they did. They relied on people being naive. They relied on the creative mind.
Does that mean that every person practicing Reiki is part of the network of antiwarriors determined to manipulate your mind? No. It means the bad guys promoted such practices to sway their targets. By promoting Reiki as an ancient healing art (it's actually an amalgamation of a number of mystical practices repackaged to appear to be a healing art), the bad guys crafted the illusion that the practice was proven over centuries to be effective in mystical healing
In and of itself, Reiki is not a bad thing, provided that each individual has the opportunity to maintain his or her own self-reliance and self-identity. When you turn over control of your spirit, your chakras, or anything else to someone who insists that he or she has invisible powers to heal, powers that need no true validation, you are surrendering your soul to a manipulator. That is cult behavior. In reality, real healing is measurable, and when it comes to Reiki, there is no reason why the experiencer should need an outsider to direct the healing energy into the body. Every human being should be able to direct this so-called energy for herself or himself. A master? I cannot tell you how many "masters" I have met over the years who have so completely lost themselves in the illusion of mystical powers that they stopped functioning in the here-and-now.
When you live inside your creative mind, when you abandon the concrete mind because the potential for what might be is greater than the power of what is, you are not living in this world, in this moment. You are living in a fantasy world. And that fantasy world makes you vulnerable to suggestion from others. When you spend your days believing that you have the power to make clouds disappear and you think you can will people to give you what you want if you just wish it, you are not acting on real opportunities to make a difference in this world. You are fantasizing. You are moving away from what is real and embracing what is not real. And when this occurs because you have some value as a target for antiwarriors, most, if not all, those illusions will be phony.
Real "mind over matter" is a complex balance of taking a belief and giving it arms and legs. The human spirit and the human brain are wonderful tools for changing the world, but they require action in the real world. This small group of health care providers counted on being able to manipulate their influential targets in order to achieve a political outcome, and in doing so, deceived many. They needed the American people to embrace the illusion that psychic powers are real, because by doing so, they gained the upper hand. They were able, for so long, to hide in plain sight, and with the support of millions, created credibility for psychic phenomena that never needed to be proven. "I believe, therefore it must be true." (When you look at the current political mess on both sides of the aisle, remember this phrase.)
The phony psychics had a handle on the business of hypnosis and self-hypnosis because so many of them were mental health experts by training. It's really nothing more than convincing a target that A is B, backing this up with other helpers, who then repeat the message to the target until it is accepted. If the target rejects the idea that A is B, insisting that A is A and B is B, the group has to decide -- cut the subject loose and take a loss, or continue to coerce the target. As practiced by this group of health care professionals, that often included a series of incidents designed to force compliance. Think of it as their "re-education" program, modeled along the lines of the Vietnamese government after the war. Those Vietnamese citizens who sided with America were subjected to some very brutal tactics, especially if they resisted. Many of those promoting phony psychic experiences had been students of these techniques, especially those psychiatrists who had followed studies of North Korean, Chinese, and Soviet psychological warfare efforts, and they had no problem applying them to non-believers. Once the target finally agreed that A was B, they could continue to work their political message into the game plan, moving forward. The goal? Propaganda campaigns. Win the war by turning people against the government. That is what psychological warfare is really all about, and in this case, it was about turning the American people against the duly elected government.
Much of guided imagery is a self-soothing technique, a stress reducer that is all about self-hypnosis techniques. In the right hands, that can be a wonderful healing tool. PTSD victims often use this technique when they rehearse what they would do differently. It's empowering to recall a traumatic event and figure out what you can do differently if you're ever in the same situation. But it goes beyond that. People who meditate often are far more determined and mindful in their lives when it comes to achieving goals. When you imagine something wonderful in your creative mind and you set yourself to take on the task of making it manifest in real life, it requires you to take an idea and bring it to fruition. You work it and rework it, honing it until it happens. Used that way, the mind is an amazing producer of good things, and many long-time meditation practicers have benefited from their efforts in real, concrete ways.
But when you turn over control to an entity that seeks to use you for political purposes and refuses to share the secret of that end game with you, you have been rendered less than human. You are cannon fodder. You are a means to an end. You are a political dupe. No longer do you make your own decisions, free and clear. The wizard behind the curtain is maneuvering you into position, so you select the button he wants you to push, and you fool yourself into believing it's your decision. You do that by surrendering responsibility to gather and contemplate real information. You outsource your data collection and take the briefing provided to you as bias-free. Those experiments by Nazi physicians and psychiatrists were all about forcing mother to turn on child. How much pressure was enough to get a mother to subject her innocent child to an electric shock in order to avoid it herself? What was a mother's breaking point, when she would stop sacrificing for her child, when she would give up? This was psychological warfare developed during WW II, and many governments trolled the files, looking for insights they, too, could employ in the Cold War. The antiwarriors were no different in utilizing the information.
Looking back, I understand that many, such as the lady who inherited all that tobacco money, were driven to do what they did for what they believed were noble reasons. It's surely painful to think that your family was responsible for encouraging generations to smoke. But in her zeal to change the world, she trampled on my civil rights. She empowered people who manipulated minds in ways that caused far greater harm. She may have been a psychiatric nurse, she may have been married to a murdered psychiatrist, but she clearly did not understand the human spirit, mind, or body. In the end, she and her like-minded antiwarriors stole democracy right out from under us, and she used her wealth to do it. What she most hoped to avoid, she caused. She was not alone in what she did. Other prominent families used their fortunes the same way, managed by the same group of mind manipulators. They joined together and formed a coalition of activists who opposed the elected government, who went around the rules by going underground, especially during the Vietnam War.
In this day and age of virtual reality, fantasy abounds, and we are starting to see numbers of people abandon the concrete mind for the illusion of magical powers and mystic experiences, as in the case of several of the mass murderers. We are human beings, borne of flesh and blood as long as we exist in these mortal bodies. We must not abandon that truth for something that prevents us from experiencing real life. We must never come to believe that fantasy is better than real life. Dream, yes, but then make those dreams come true. Don't live only for the promise of Heaven in the distant future. Make it happen here and now. Bring Heaven to Earth. If, when I die, there is something even better than I can imagine, I will be delighted, but let me be a creator now of a better life, of a better world, and let that start by connecting to my fellow human beings.
We have become a nation of people so focused on feel-good, we mistake that for do-good. No health care professional should ever encourage any patient to abandon the self. The goal should always be to encourage self-growth and self-development through education and healthy practices.
To those folks I knew all those years ago, who believed they had the power to change minds by manipulation, I say this. You" Emperors" have no clothes. You are naked. Your secret was revealed long ago. You just never thought anyone was really watching.
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Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Beyond the Glass Half Full/Half Empty -- The Common Sense Realist
Is the glass half full? Is the glass half empty? Are you someone who wants to be happy or someone who prefers to be a miserable bastard? Psychologists can analyze you till the cows come home, but is it a real measure of your personality and your emotional health, or is it a shallow view of reality? What about the guy who sees a glass half empty? Is he automatically "wrong" in his thinking?
It's time to revisit the old model for optimists and pessimists. At some point, we have to become quantitative in our analysis of what it takes to be productive, creative, and effective. It's no longer a matter of optimism versus pessimism. This isn't so much about being happy or being miserable. It's about being smart. It's about being realistic in taking what we have and using it to make the world better, and in order to do that, we have to look beyond half full/half empty modality, while keeping our knees from jerking automatically into the air as we leap from our armchairs and demand this or that.
Maybe we should start by asking ourselves how much water is there in the particular glass we're considering. We know not all glasses hold the same amount, as illustrated. Certainly, we can see that the glass on the left holds more than the one on the right. Little Bridget could drown if she tries to drink from the too-big glass with too-much water -- she'd be in over her head. If Little Bridget were a member of your family, you'd take pains to protect her, wouldn't you? You might steer her towards the smaller vessel. She could probably manage that with less risk.
Knowing that one glass has more than the other is important for several reasons. What is the need for water? How thirsty is the person seeking to drink it? Obviously, the smaller glass contains less water, and that means that the drinker will run out of that magical elixir sooner rather than later. Does that matter? Absolutely. It means he or she will have to conserve the liquid in the glass, to make it last. That's what makes the issue of glass half full/half empty so relative. If you came across your dehydrated Uncle Bob, who just crawled across the Sahara on his hands and knees in a sirocco, you'd want to give him enough water to slack his thirst safely, without causing him new problems.
Over the last few years, I've read about the emerging technologies and the amount of money invested in developing them. First there was Solyndra, the solar battery company that received $535 million federal dollars before going belly up. Then there was Fisker Automotive, which received $529 million federal dollars before it tanked (At least the government reclaimed $21 million of that.) What's wrong with this picture? When we invest that much taxpayer revenue into products, don't we expect to get a successful set of results?
And before you go thinking I'm some fat-assed, mean-mouthed, disgruntled Capitalist oinker who drives a gas-guzzling Hummer and tosses my trash out the window as I drive, let me define myself for you. I actually use fluorescent light bulbs wherever possible, I recycle, and nothing frosts my butt faster than litter in the middle of nowhere. I'm an animal lover and I've been known to pick up broken glass from the beer bottles tossed out countless windows by teenage drinkers as I come across it on the sidewalk.
Somewhere there is a big disconnect between what it takes to care for this environment and what it really takes to take care of this environment. We seem to focus so tightly on the giant issues of environment and we ignore the little, everyday things we could and should be doing. And all the while, we pat ourselves on the back for our environmental conservation efforts. It's time we get real about half full/half baked.
That's right. I'm calling America out on its half-full/half-baked environmental policies. There's something tragic about wasting over a billion dollars on projects that are huge busts. As good as it looked to send all that money off to "environmentally friendly" causes, what could we have done better, wiser?
Did we rush to throw all our eggs into one basket? Did we count those chickens before we knew the eggs were actually fertilized? Consider what that money could have produced if we had scaled back those investments. Maybe China wouldn't have beat our pants off in the solar battery business, rendering American efforts to produce the technology a waste of taxpayer money. Maybe if Fisker had had to produce a prototype of the actual engine it would use and the battery to power it, we could have saved this country a boatload...nay, an aircraft carrier's worth of money. Maybe if we took our time and really focused on the issues, instead of slapping a big, fat "happy face" on solar batteries and electric cars, we could have cut off some of those problems before the money was flushed down the proverbial waste compactor.
It wasn't even a case for six of one, half a dozen of the other. Eggs are eggs. Any sensible person knows that it's what's inside the egg that counts -- yolk and albumen. When the contents go bad, they stink, which is what happened here. This isn't a fairy tale. No such thing as a goose that lays a golden egg. No amount of alchemy can change reality. The equation was unbalanced from the beginning and the sad thing is it didn't have to be.
Where were the actual prototypes and why weren't they tested, retested, and tested some more before the concepts got the go-ahead? Where were the questions when the companies applied for the federal money? What did we get from all that government investment in these two companies when the dust settled and the air cleared? Nothing. The jobs these companies were to create never really came to fruition in the way folks dreamed when that glass was half-full. The technologies that were imaginary remained so. What if the developers didn't have so much money to fall back on? What if they were challenged to use what they had because that was all the water in their glass? Would they have scaled back sooner, recognized their limitations quicker, and worked that much harder to make one single product that would be viable in the market place?
Sometimes it's too easy to throw cash at issues and problems. We waste so much taxpayer money on silly causes because people want to be re-elected. Maybe it's time that all this government waste is examined by citizen committees before the check is deposited in the bank. Maybe we need bipartisan assemblies of average voters to sit down with budget teams, to decide how much money gets thrown at unknown, untested, uncertain investment opportunities. Instead of awarding money to political supporters on both sides of the aisle, maybe we need to have a consensus by Americans that this is an effective, wise use of the people's money.
Oh, I'm not suggesting that this is how we solve the current budget crisis. Lord knows that issue is so tangled up in politics, it would take a group lobotomy to get sensible resolution there. I'm suggesting that we need to be realistic in our approach to the "Big Environmental Causes of the Day". We have nothing to show for that money wasted on Solyndra and Fisker Automotive. Maybe if those investments were limited to one million dollars per company, the rest of the billion-plus dollars could have gone to cleaning up old toxic waste sites, coming up with new technologies to work with existing fuel sources in more environmentally friendly ways, and figuring out how to grow corn for ethanol without starving people in Third World countries who need to eat. Maybe then we would have had some money left over to avoid some of the cutbacks for services like air traffic controllers, terror investigations, and figuring out a health care system that actually works to prevent health issues without increasing health care costs through mismanagement of funds and duplication of services.
The day has passed where we can afford to toss money at problems. It's time to demand accountability and responsibility for environmental projects. They should be stripped of their romantic illusions and be treated for what they are -- technologies that are supposed to function in the real world, in real time, and with realists behind the wheel. That's the only way we will ever repair this environment.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Guinea Pig Report: Dioptics Solar Shield Sunglasses
When I was offered the chance to participate in some product testing, through Vibrant Nation, I was at once skeptical and curious. What would I find? As a guinea pig, would this be a positive experience?
Dioptics is a company that has made sunglasses for medical patients for over thirty years. Their line of "fits over" and "clip-on" sunglasses for those of us who wear prescription glasses are available at many retailers across the country -- Walmart, CVS, Walgreens, and many retailers, in addition to being available online at www.solarshield.com
I have three pairs of prescription glasses -- reading, mid-distance, and trifocals. I spend my days switching between them. I use the trifocals for driving, so they stay in my purse. I haven't really ever completely adjusted to using them all the time. I'm an author and an artist, so I do a lot of close-up work, which requires a wider lens range. That means wearing reading glasses when I work. And when I watch TV or paint on a large canvas, I use my mid-range glasses. All three pairs of glasses are different sizes and shapes. The chance to try "fits over" sunglasses seemed the logical choice for me, because I didn't have to worry about the shape of the lenses on each pair.
To be honest, I've needed sunglasses for quite a while. I tried using off-the-rack choices, but I couldn't stand the distortion of the lens. Does that sound strange? When you have astigmatism in one eye, any little imperfection is enough to drive you batty, because that curved lens will just exacerbate it.
The box from Dioptics arrived in the mail. It was small and weighed about as much as ten butterflies. I opened the package and found myself somewhat disappointed. Why? The sunglasses looked very ordinary. What was I expecting? Maybe a shiny finish. But looks and first impressions can be wrong. These glasses are really awesome.
For the first time in a couple of years, I can walk around outside and see clearly. No more frowning. No more sun in my eyes.
As for that matte finish, it turns out to be enormously helpful in keeping the prescription glasses in place. In fact, the fit is fantastic, because once the sunglasses are on your nose, they stay put. I didn't worry about scratching the prescription glasses.
And that lightweight feature I wasn't sure about? It turns out that when I wear both prescription and sunglasses together, I'm still very much comfortable.
Is there a difference between just grabbing a pair of conventional sunglasses and the Dioptics version? Yes, yes, and yes. The Dioptics version accommodates the prescription glasses, and the edging not only keeps the sun out between both pairs, it holds the prescription glasses in place -- it's the fit that really makes a difference. I tested the classic choice, with tiny side windows that still allow light in and peripheral vision is not cut off.
Would I recommend them to you readers? Absolutely. My experience was definitely a positive, and a pleasant surprise to boot. My only caution? You will need a roomy case to store them in -- despite their lack of weight, they are still larger than most glasses when folded.
Please Note: I received a free sample of Dioptics Solar Shield sunglasses via Vibrant Nation's Vibrant Influencer Network
Dioptics is a company that has made sunglasses for medical patients for over thirty years. Their line of "fits over" and "clip-on" sunglasses for those of us who wear prescription glasses are available at many retailers across the country -- Walmart, CVS, Walgreens, and many retailers, in addition to being available online at www.solarshield.com
I have three pairs of prescription glasses -- reading, mid-distance, and trifocals. I spend my days switching between them. I use the trifocals for driving, so they stay in my purse. I haven't really ever completely adjusted to using them all the time. I'm an author and an artist, so I do a lot of close-up work, which requires a wider lens range. That means wearing reading glasses when I work. And when I watch TV or paint on a large canvas, I use my mid-range glasses. All three pairs of glasses are different sizes and shapes. The chance to try "fits over" sunglasses seemed the logical choice for me, because I didn't have to worry about the shape of the lenses on each pair.
To be honest, I've needed sunglasses for quite a while. I tried using off-the-rack choices, but I couldn't stand the distortion of the lens. Does that sound strange? When you have astigmatism in one eye, any little imperfection is enough to drive you batty, because that curved lens will just exacerbate it.
The box from Dioptics arrived in the mail. It was small and weighed about as much as ten butterflies. I opened the package and found myself somewhat disappointed. Why? The sunglasses looked very ordinary. What was I expecting? Maybe a shiny finish. But looks and first impressions can be wrong. These glasses are really awesome.
For the first time in a couple of years, I can walk around outside and see clearly. No more frowning. No more sun in my eyes.
As for that matte finish, it turns out to be enormously helpful in keeping the prescription glasses in place. In fact, the fit is fantastic, because once the sunglasses are on your nose, they stay put. I didn't worry about scratching the prescription glasses.
And that lightweight feature I wasn't sure about? It turns out that when I wear both prescription and sunglasses together, I'm still very much comfortable.
Is there a difference between just grabbing a pair of conventional sunglasses and the Dioptics version? Yes, yes, and yes. The Dioptics version accommodates the prescription glasses, and the edging not only keeps the sun out between both pairs, it holds the prescription glasses in place -- it's the fit that really makes a difference. I tested the classic choice, with tiny side windows that still allow light in and peripheral vision is not cut off.
Would I recommend them to you readers? Absolutely. My experience was definitely a positive, and a pleasant surprise to boot. My only caution? You will need a roomy case to store them in -- despite their lack of weight, they are still larger than most glasses when folded.
Please Note: I received a free sample of Dioptics Solar Shield sunglasses via Vibrant Nation's Vibrant Influencer Network
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Why the Demise of Sharing the Family TV Has Led to Disharmony in Washington, DC
We've lost the art of real negotiation. There was a time, growing up in America, when you actually had to have some skill to get what you wanted, what you believed you needed. Remember the days when you didn't dare leave the sofa, in case a sibling took over your "spot"? Recall the times when you had to beg, plead, cajole, and insist that your show was the one to watch? We've lost that forced "have to get along" thing. Nowadays, it's a crap shoot as to whether anyone will get anything. The bullies have taken over. The weak sit on the sidelines and go without. All because we are no longer in a position where we actually have to make successful deals on significant issues.
Think about it, baby boomer. Back when we were kids, we actually had to share. We didn't have a choice. We had to get along or we couldn't play. If the other kids got on your nerves, you took your ball and went home, until they were ready to play nicely. You had some leverage to get yourself into the game, and once there, you had a chance to influence how things went. Now? Nobody's interested in playing nicely. We'd rather go our separate ways.
That's what struck me yesterday when the group of gathered politicians and family members of victims lost to mass shootings gathered for a photo op. Accompanying the image of some very disappointed people was an article about how furious the politicians were, how sad the relatives were. That's when I realized how far off track we are as a nation.
We're not going about our negotiations as a shared process. That's why it's not working. You want gun control. The other guy wants mental health issues addressed. Your conclusion when you don't get what you want is that the other guy is a creep for not conceding. The other guy's conclusion? You're a bully for insisting that there will be no negotiation on the issue. Back when we were kids, this was considered a stalemate. Nobody won. Nobody got to play "Capture the Flag". Nobody got to play anything because the two teams couldn't even agree to play.
What could have happened in Washington, if real negotiations, if real dialogue took place? Maybe we could have agreed to really take a hard look at what's going on with these mass killings. You have disgruntled killers bent on massive destruction and loss of life, who want to bring attention to themselves for no other reason than they cannot connect to their fellow human beings. "I am the King of the Universe, and you minions are all under my power!" That kind of twisted acting out isn't stopped by a gun permit. Neither are our children protected in school by armed guards. We're going to waste time, energy, and resources playing "ketchup", when we really should be stopping this behavior in its earliest stages -- in childhood. We need to teach children that they are a part of life, not the giver and taker of life. They do not have super powers. They are not entitled to do whatever the hell they want to do. They need to work with people, not against them. But how do you teach that when you have so many adults who feel entitled to do whatever they want, regardless of the greater good and actual need? As long as Washington's politicians see the need to chastise, instead of conducting real negotiations, it's all a sham.
Washington has so fractured the structure of democracy, there is no equivalent of the family TV and family sofa. We have no reason to get along because we're not all in the same room at the same time. Fairness, shmairness.
Ever know single people who live their lives without having to concede anything? They're often the people bitching the loudest about how they can't find a decent relationship. No romance seems to work out for them. It's that elusive desire that always slips away. I can tell you why. You live with other people, you damn well better be able to negotiate and concede ground if you plan on getting half of what you need. How many single people never have to bother sharing a meal? Eat whatever you want whenever you want. But if there are two or more people? At some point in time, you're going to have to eat something that's not your favorite, and you're also going to have to speak up when you want to have the chance to engage in your own preferences. That's what happens when two or more people occupy the same space, by choice or by necessity.
Remember sharing a room with a sibling? Those days are now gone, as parents opt for the big houses with separate bedrooms and bathrooms. No more pounding on the door when a brother or sister takes too long in front of the mirror.
It's sad really, that we have lost sight of the fact that other people have needs that differ from our own. We have become so enamoured of our own selves that we ignore the reality that our way is not always the only way, the best way, or the necessary way. We're too far apart to spend real time together and to get what needs doing done, because we're not interested in playing together and sharing our toys.
Is it a mistake not to engage with "the other team"? Are we missing valuable opportunities to work together, to play together, to develop real respect through dialogue and negotiation? Of course we are. As individuals, we are a bunch of folks with divergent ideas, beliefs, thoughts, and feelings. We're going our separate ways constantly, disconnected from the greater spirit of this nation. This is supposed to be a democracy, a country of people who can agree on the Constitution's principles as a means of focusing on what the greater good can and should be, while at the same time respecting the rights of the individual. We have bent over backwards so many times in the effort to appease the disgruntled. Maybe now it's time to accept the fact that we aren't going to agree to everything our fellow citizens want and let that be okay, just as we aren't going to get everything we want. We should still be trying to work that out, rather than sulking because we failed to gain our ground.
When we were kids, it was normal to accept defeat on a routine basis because there were other victories. The losses balanced out, especially when you were motivated to find common ground. And when you found common ground, they turned into wins, because you and "the other guys" could agree on something, anything.
Every time a politician grabs a group of people to stand behind him, every time he or she hammers home a political agenda, we lose what matters most to us as human beings -- the chance to genuinely come together as a nation. We get caught up in liberal and conservative causes. We cling to agendas, concepts, and ideas without ever having any intention of ceding turf. How can we ever find common ground if we are too sequestered on our mountain tops, looking down on the little people with disappointment because they have not followed our game plan?
Want an example of real common ground? It's the sight of those brave people at the Boston Marathon who ran to give assistance and comfort to the victims, who didn't stop to ask "Why me, Lord?", but who sought to soothe, to stem the flow of blood, to save lives, regardless of political beliefs, religious beliefs, ethnicity, skin color, or anything else. In that horrible aftermath, it didn't matter to them. They only cared about what was right in front of them. Human beings in need.
I don't know about you, but I am humbled by that courage, that desire of ordinary people to be extraordinary. That's real common ground. No squabbling. No turning away from people. No shunning this one or that one. Everyone shared the risk, the heartbreak, the sorrow. They were focused on the crisis. They came together to make a difference.
The next time a politician claims that the other side is the bad guy for not conceding he's the "correct thinker", I want you to remember what real negotiations are. It's putting the people's needs ahead of the politics. It's sucking it up so we can all be in the same room at the same time, sharing that sofa as we watch TV. All those divisive voices from the left and the right have one thing in common. They still don't understand that we need to meet in the middle if we're going to work this all out and coexist in peace.
Think about it, baby boomer. Back when we were kids, we actually had to share. We didn't have a choice. We had to get along or we couldn't play. If the other kids got on your nerves, you took your ball and went home, until they were ready to play nicely. You had some leverage to get yourself into the game, and once there, you had a chance to influence how things went. Now? Nobody's interested in playing nicely. We'd rather go our separate ways.
That's what struck me yesterday when the group of gathered politicians and family members of victims lost to mass shootings gathered for a photo op. Accompanying the image of some very disappointed people was an article about how furious the politicians were, how sad the relatives were. That's when I realized how far off track we are as a nation.
We're not going about our negotiations as a shared process. That's why it's not working. You want gun control. The other guy wants mental health issues addressed. Your conclusion when you don't get what you want is that the other guy is a creep for not conceding. The other guy's conclusion? You're a bully for insisting that there will be no negotiation on the issue. Back when we were kids, this was considered a stalemate. Nobody won. Nobody got to play "Capture the Flag". Nobody got to play anything because the two teams couldn't even agree to play.
What could have happened in Washington, if real negotiations, if real dialogue took place? Maybe we could have agreed to really take a hard look at what's going on with these mass killings. You have disgruntled killers bent on massive destruction and loss of life, who want to bring attention to themselves for no other reason than they cannot connect to their fellow human beings. "I am the King of the Universe, and you minions are all under my power!" That kind of twisted acting out isn't stopped by a gun permit. Neither are our children protected in school by armed guards. We're going to waste time, energy, and resources playing "ketchup", when we really should be stopping this behavior in its earliest stages -- in childhood. We need to teach children that they are a part of life, not the giver and taker of life. They do not have super powers. They are not entitled to do whatever the hell they want to do. They need to work with people, not against them. But how do you teach that when you have so many adults who feel entitled to do whatever they want, regardless of the greater good and actual need? As long as Washington's politicians see the need to chastise, instead of conducting real negotiations, it's all a sham.
Washington has so fractured the structure of democracy, there is no equivalent of the family TV and family sofa. We have no reason to get along because we're not all in the same room at the same time. Fairness, shmairness.
Ever know single people who live their lives without having to concede anything? They're often the people bitching the loudest about how they can't find a decent relationship. No romance seems to work out for them. It's that elusive desire that always slips away. I can tell you why. You live with other people, you damn well better be able to negotiate and concede ground if you plan on getting half of what you need. How many single people never have to bother sharing a meal? Eat whatever you want whenever you want. But if there are two or more people? At some point in time, you're going to have to eat something that's not your favorite, and you're also going to have to speak up when you want to have the chance to engage in your own preferences. That's what happens when two or more people occupy the same space, by choice or by necessity.
Remember sharing a room with a sibling? Those days are now gone, as parents opt for the big houses with separate bedrooms and bathrooms. No more pounding on the door when a brother or sister takes too long in front of the mirror.
It's sad really, that we have lost sight of the fact that other people have needs that differ from our own. We have become so enamoured of our own selves that we ignore the reality that our way is not always the only way, the best way, or the necessary way. We're too far apart to spend real time together and to get what needs doing done, because we're not interested in playing together and sharing our toys.
Is it a mistake not to engage with "the other team"? Are we missing valuable opportunities to work together, to play together, to develop real respect through dialogue and negotiation? Of course we are. As individuals, we are a bunch of folks with divergent ideas, beliefs, thoughts, and feelings. We're going our separate ways constantly, disconnected from the greater spirit of this nation. This is supposed to be a democracy, a country of people who can agree on the Constitution's principles as a means of focusing on what the greater good can and should be, while at the same time respecting the rights of the individual. We have bent over backwards so many times in the effort to appease the disgruntled. Maybe now it's time to accept the fact that we aren't going to agree to everything our fellow citizens want and let that be okay, just as we aren't going to get everything we want. We should still be trying to work that out, rather than sulking because we failed to gain our ground.
When we were kids, it was normal to accept defeat on a routine basis because there were other victories. The losses balanced out, especially when you were motivated to find common ground. And when you found common ground, they turned into wins, because you and "the other guys" could agree on something, anything.
Every time a politician grabs a group of people to stand behind him, every time he or she hammers home a political agenda, we lose what matters most to us as human beings -- the chance to genuinely come together as a nation. We get caught up in liberal and conservative causes. We cling to agendas, concepts, and ideas without ever having any intention of ceding turf. How can we ever find common ground if we are too sequestered on our mountain tops, looking down on the little people with disappointment because they have not followed our game plan?
Want an example of real common ground? It's the sight of those brave people at the Boston Marathon who ran to give assistance and comfort to the victims, who didn't stop to ask "Why me, Lord?", but who sought to soothe, to stem the flow of blood, to save lives, regardless of political beliefs, religious beliefs, ethnicity, skin color, or anything else. In that horrible aftermath, it didn't matter to them. They only cared about what was right in front of them. Human beings in need.
I don't know about you, but I am humbled by that courage, that desire of ordinary people to be extraordinary. That's real common ground. No squabbling. No turning away from people. No shunning this one or that one. Everyone shared the risk, the heartbreak, the sorrow. They were focused on the crisis. They came together to make a difference.
The next time a politician claims that the other side is the bad guy for not conceding he's the "correct thinker", I want you to remember what real negotiations are. It's putting the people's needs ahead of the politics. It's sucking it up so we can all be in the same room at the same time, sharing that sofa as we watch TV. All those divisive voices from the left and the right have one thing in common. They still don't understand that we need to meet in the middle if we're going to work this all out and coexist in peace.
Monday, April 15, 2013
Why the Attack on Boston Was So Senseless and Cruel
The news today was so stunning, so mind-numbingly wasteful. I've watched the footage of the two explosions and I still don't understand how and why anyone decided this was a good thing to do.
Let me just say that I have the misfortune of having a birthday that has been used several times by disgruntled terrorists and murderers to launch their version of mayhem on the American public. I can still remember where I was when the fire broke out at Waco during that debacle. In an ice cream shop, celebrating my birthday with an ice cream cone. Oklahoma City? Happy birthday to me. All those poor people were destroyed in the blink of an eye. For what? Columbine came just after my birthday. Close enough. The image of those students, hands in the air as the SWAT teams moved in, guns drawn, haunted me for years, I just didn't want to think about what some idiot might do in the name of whatever twisted ideals he grasped on a day when the world should be right long enough for me to celebrate. It's been so long since the last horror show (Virginia Tech), I had almost come to expect a pleasant week. And now? Boston is forever changed.
You're probably thinking that my biggest complaint is that my birthday has been forever tainted with the blood of innocents. But it's so much more than anything as trivial as a birthday celebration. It's more that we have lost something so precious and it happens to coincide with a time of hope and joy for me. I love spring. I love all the promise of the Easter season and what it represents.
But Boston? Maybe it's that New York City has borne the brunt of terror attacks for so many years. I have a relative who had the good fortune of arriving in the city late on that fateful day, who still can remember, even though he probably would prefer to forget, the taste, the smell, the sights and sounds of the city on 9/11. I remember someone mentioned about a year ago how imporant it was to see the memorial park. Maybe if you didn't have that personal, up close, first-hand view. We almost expect terrorists to attack New York or Washington, DC. But Boston?
I've walked those streets. I spent my hours at the Boston Public Library doing research. I shopped in Copley Place, where Au Bon Pain was a handy place to grab a bite. I bought soda at the little convenience store around the corner from Boylston. I crossed Boston Public Garden in snow, when the trees were bare, and in summer, when the lush green canopy provided shade from the hot sun. I used to watch the kids skateboard on that wide open plaza that is Copley Square, listening to the rattle of their wheels on the stone surface. When I saw that flash of molten fire against the building, when I watched that runner fall to the pavement just seconds after some powerful wave seemed to strike him down, I wondered if it was near that store that used to have this wonderful hologram design that illuminated the sidewalk in front of the door. I've walked to the Esplanade for concerts, stood by the shell and let the sweet sounds of the string section float over me as I drank in every note. I could have imagined a terror attack in so many other cities, but Boston? That's too familiar. That's too close for comfort. It's just so ordinary a place to imagine that some group would choose it as the scene of a terror attack.
And when I think about the victims of today's bombings, I admit I am baffled. It wasn't aimed at the rich and famous or the powerful. It didn't go off as the most elite runners came into the finish line. It was the mothers and fathers, whose children watched in the stands as their parents struggled to make those exhausted legs keep moving to the end. It was the ordinary people who weren't there for any political rally or cause. They were there for the challenge of running all those miles.
What kind of terrorist group selects such a target population? What kinds of minds prefer those ordinary people as their victims? Maybe that's what makes the least amount of sense to me. As a terror attack, it feels so unreal. If it were tied to the symbolism of Boston's heritage in the American Revolution, surely it would not have been so violent. After all, the Boston Tea Party was all about dumping tea in Boston Harbor, not blowing people up. The violence of the Patriots' war came later, when the protests failed.
As heinous as the Oklahoma City bombing was, at least Timothy McVeigh chose a federal building as representative of his wrath for the government. He was sending a message, one that was abundantly clear given the devastation.
So why did the terrorists choose those victims? Because they were so ordinary? Because they were not the elite? That's really a big "why" for me. What made them so attractive? Why detonate the bombs at that time, rather than when all the VIPs and the mucky-mucks were ready to greet the world champion runners at the finish line?
Any time I look at a terrorist event, I try to understand why those particular targets were chosen, why those people ended up as victims. Whether it's a school site and a bunch of twisted young minds who have lost touch with reality, or a group of angry people with a political agenda and a purposeful plan of action, the victims are the ones who often represent something to the perpetrators. In the case of the Boston bombing, that isn't clear. These weren't capitalists working in the financial district. They weren't law enforcement or politically-connected leaders. They were ordinary people there to watch ordinary people cross the finish line. Waiting for a marathon's stragglers to show up is like watching paint dry. You have to have a personal reason for standing there so long. You're there for someone else, someone who's trying to finish a race that would exhaust the average citizen.
Timing is everything, isn't it? Even during a terror act. I can speculate that the motive for selecting those locations for the explosive devices were the many flags flying as the shrapnel spread its deadly power through the human flesh and the handy news photographers on the scene. But surely they were also present earlier, when the "important" people were around. What was it about these particular victims?
I don't have an answer, but I have a suspicion. I don't think it was an accident that these people were targeted. Somehow, some way, somewhere, it all makes sense to the person or persons who planned this horrible act. Maybe we will find that at least one life was forever changed by some senseless bombing elsewhere. Was it an IED in some Middle Eastern country? Did a bomb take out targets in a cafe on a Baghdad street or an explosion rip apart people gathered for a festival in Afghanistan or a drone take out a family in Pakistan? Ordinary people doing ordinary things. One moment life is good and the next, it is forever changed. An eye for an eye. Someone involved in the planning of this incident, this life-changing incident, had a specific reason for picking these people as victims. It would have been just as easy to strike earlier, but the terrorists chose not to do that. They were sending us a message, that no one is ever really safe. It could happen anywhere, to anyone. That's pretty personal. It's like when a killer shoots his victim in the face, at point blank range. Lots of rage. Not a lot of emotional detachment. It's all about the satisfaction of striking where it will hurt the most.
For a brief moment, I even wondered if it was some out-of-control kid wanting to make a name for himself as the new replacement for the wacky school shooters, but I don't think so. School shooters still have a personal connection to their targets. There's something that irks them about the victims and something that satisfies them when the killing's done. And so often, those incidents seem to end in a blaze of self-martyrdom suicide, over the top and blatant, like some Hollywood finale. But this terror attack didn't seem to have such a side show. In this attack, it seems that the killers got away. Does that mean they plan to fight another day?
But what I don't understand, given the success at harming so many innocent people, was that the bombers didn't seem to target the first responders. As I watched all those brave souls rush to help the injured, I thought they were so vulnerable. Surely it was a fear vibrating hard and loud in the back of every mind as the men and women pulled away those barriers in search of survivors. That's what made it a less sophisticated terror attack than what we've seen in other cases.
And again, makes it feel all the more personal. Innocent lives were what the terrorists sought to take. That was all that would satisfy their hunger. They didn't want to do battle with law enforcement. They wanted to do battle with little children, who had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They wanted to take out husbands and fathers and uncles and brothers. They wanted to destroy wives and mothers and aunts and sisters. They wanted to rip apart lovers, girlfriends and boyfriends, those whose star-crossed lives would be forever changed by this nightmare. Somehow I expect that when the ash settles, when the shrapnel is collected and examined, we will find that the killers were not some well-trained jihadists with impressive credentials, but some motley crew of people drawn together by their personal anger over some event that profoundly touched their lives, who pulled the cloak of terrorists around their warped shoulders and made their excuses as they packed those bombs with the twisted pieces of metal that would destroy beautiful lives. Such a senseless loss of humanity. How could it possibly serve any purpose? How could it be justified by any measure or semblance of sanity? This was about a group of people with a grudge, who decided that they were going to make sure everyone felt their power by taking out ordinary people, who will never again be ordinary. Senseless violence from the dark side.
Let me just say that I have the misfortune of having a birthday that has been used several times by disgruntled terrorists and murderers to launch their version of mayhem on the American public. I can still remember where I was when the fire broke out at Waco during that debacle. In an ice cream shop, celebrating my birthday with an ice cream cone. Oklahoma City? Happy birthday to me. All those poor people were destroyed in the blink of an eye. For what? Columbine came just after my birthday. Close enough. The image of those students, hands in the air as the SWAT teams moved in, guns drawn, haunted me for years, I just didn't want to think about what some idiot might do in the name of whatever twisted ideals he grasped on a day when the world should be right long enough for me to celebrate. It's been so long since the last horror show (Virginia Tech), I had almost come to expect a pleasant week. And now? Boston is forever changed.
You're probably thinking that my biggest complaint is that my birthday has been forever tainted with the blood of innocents. But it's so much more than anything as trivial as a birthday celebration. It's more that we have lost something so precious and it happens to coincide with a time of hope and joy for me. I love spring. I love all the promise of the Easter season and what it represents.
But Boston? Maybe it's that New York City has borne the brunt of terror attacks for so many years. I have a relative who had the good fortune of arriving in the city late on that fateful day, who still can remember, even though he probably would prefer to forget, the taste, the smell, the sights and sounds of the city on 9/11. I remember someone mentioned about a year ago how imporant it was to see the memorial park. Maybe if you didn't have that personal, up close, first-hand view. We almost expect terrorists to attack New York or Washington, DC. But Boston?
I've walked those streets. I spent my hours at the Boston Public Library doing research. I shopped in Copley Place, where Au Bon Pain was a handy place to grab a bite. I bought soda at the little convenience store around the corner from Boylston. I crossed Boston Public Garden in snow, when the trees were bare, and in summer, when the lush green canopy provided shade from the hot sun. I used to watch the kids skateboard on that wide open plaza that is Copley Square, listening to the rattle of their wheels on the stone surface. When I saw that flash of molten fire against the building, when I watched that runner fall to the pavement just seconds after some powerful wave seemed to strike him down, I wondered if it was near that store that used to have this wonderful hologram design that illuminated the sidewalk in front of the door. I've walked to the Esplanade for concerts, stood by the shell and let the sweet sounds of the string section float over me as I drank in every note. I could have imagined a terror attack in so many other cities, but Boston? That's too familiar. That's too close for comfort. It's just so ordinary a place to imagine that some group would choose it as the scene of a terror attack.
And when I think about the victims of today's bombings, I admit I am baffled. It wasn't aimed at the rich and famous or the powerful. It didn't go off as the most elite runners came into the finish line. It was the mothers and fathers, whose children watched in the stands as their parents struggled to make those exhausted legs keep moving to the end. It was the ordinary people who weren't there for any political rally or cause. They were there for the challenge of running all those miles.
What kind of terrorist group selects such a target population? What kinds of minds prefer those ordinary people as their victims? Maybe that's what makes the least amount of sense to me. As a terror attack, it feels so unreal. If it were tied to the symbolism of Boston's heritage in the American Revolution, surely it would not have been so violent. After all, the Boston Tea Party was all about dumping tea in Boston Harbor, not blowing people up. The violence of the Patriots' war came later, when the protests failed.
As heinous as the Oklahoma City bombing was, at least Timothy McVeigh chose a federal building as representative of his wrath for the government. He was sending a message, one that was abundantly clear given the devastation.
So why did the terrorists choose those victims? Because they were so ordinary? Because they were not the elite? That's really a big "why" for me. What made them so attractive? Why detonate the bombs at that time, rather than when all the VIPs and the mucky-mucks were ready to greet the world champion runners at the finish line?
Any time I look at a terrorist event, I try to understand why those particular targets were chosen, why those people ended up as victims. Whether it's a school site and a bunch of twisted young minds who have lost touch with reality, or a group of angry people with a political agenda and a purposeful plan of action, the victims are the ones who often represent something to the perpetrators. In the case of the Boston bombing, that isn't clear. These weren't capitalists working in the financial district. They weren't law enforcement or politically-connected leaders. They were ordinary people there to watch ordinary people cross the finish line. Waiting for a marathon's stragglers to show up is like watching paint dry. You have to have a personal reason for standing there so long. You're there for someone else, someone who's trying to finish a race that would exhaust the average citizen.
Timing is everything, isn't it? Even during a terror act. I can speculate that the motive for selecting those locations for the explosive devices were the many flags flying as the shrapnel spread its deadly power through the human flesh and the handy news photographers on the scene. But surely they were also present earlier, when the "important" people were around. What was it about these particular victims?
I don't have an answer, but I have a suspicion. I don't think it was an accident that these people were targeted. Somehow, some way, somewhere, it all makes sense to the person or persons who planned this horrible act. Maybe we will find that at least one life was forever changed by some senseless bombing elsewhere. Was it an IED in some Middle Eastern country? Did a bomb take out targets in a cafe on a Baghdad street or an explosion rip apart people gathered for a festival in Afghanistan or a drone take out a family in Pakistan? Ordinary people doing ordinary things. One moment life is good and the next, it is forever changed. An eye for an eye. Someone involved in the planning of this incident, this life-changing incident, had a specific reason for picking these people as victims. It would have been just as easy to strike earlier, but the terrorists chose not to do that. They were sending us a message, that no one is ever really safe. It could happen anywhere, to anyone. That's pretty personal. It's like when a killer shoots his victim in the face, at point blank range. Lots of rage. Not a lot of emotional detachment. It's all about the satisfaction of striking where it will hurt the most.
For a brief moment, I even wondered if it was some out-of-control kid wanting to make a name for himself as the new replacement for the wacky school shooters, but I don't think so. School shooters still have a personal connection to their targets. There's something that irks them about the victims and something that satisfies them when the killing's done. And so often, those incidents seem to end in a blaze of self-martyrdom suicide, over the top and blatant, like some Hollywood finale. But this terror attack didn't seem to have such a side show. In this attack, it seems that the killers got away. Does that mean they plan to fight another day?
But what I don't understand, given the success at harming so many innocent people, was that the bombers didn't seem to target the first responders. As I watched all those brave souls rush to help the injured, I thought they were so vulnerable. Surely it was a fear vibrating hard and loud in the back of every mind as the men and women pulled away those barriers in search of survivors. That's what made it a less sophisticated terror attack than what we've seen in other cases.
And again, makes it feel all the more personal. Innocent lives were what the terrorists sought to take. That was all that would satisfy their hunger. They didn't want to do battle with law enforcement. They wanted to do battle with little children, who had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. They wanted to take out husbands and fathers and uncles and brothers. They wanted to destroy wives and mothers and aunts and sisters. They wanted to rip apart lovers, girlfriends and boyfriends, those whose star-crossed lives would be forever changed by this nightmare. Somehow I expect that when the ash settles, when the shrapnel is collected and examined, we will find that the killers were not some well-trained jihadists with impressive credentials, but some motley crew of people drawn together by their personal anger over some event that profoundly touched their lives, who pulled the cloak of terrorists around their warped shoulders and made their excuses as they packed those bombs with the twisted pieces of metal that would destroy beautiful lives. Such a senseless loss of humanity. How could it possibly serve any purpose? How could it be justified by any measure or semblance of sanity? This was about a group of people with a grudge, who decided that they were going to make sure everyone felt their power by taking out ordinary people, who will never again be ordinary. Senseless violence from the dark side.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Catching the "Brigadoon" Strain of Spring Fever
I look at the spring flowers popping out of the ground and marvel at how they have spread across the earth in the past year, multiplying as they form a colorful carpet. I look for the unexpected, the flowers I didn't plant, and I wonder what birds dropped the seeds, perhaps as a gesture of thanks for the bird seed in the feeder. Life goes on throughout the year, but spring? Spring is the harbinger of journeys yet taken, adventures awaiting me just over the rise. Even as I shake off the cold damp that kept me inside for so many months, even as I shed the layers of fleece, wool, and water-repellent raincoat, I can feel spring seductively beckon to me.
What is it about spring that makes me want to break out in song, to skip down the trail singing "Waitin' for My Dearie" like Fiona in "Brigadoon"? The truth is I believe every bit as much as she did.
I believe in good things, in happy times, in sunshine and pups that wag their tails. I believe that for every time I read about cyber bullying and mean people and idiots that feel the need to shoot up schools and take hostages because they're disgruntled at the way their lives turned out, we still are human and we have the tools to overcome these problems, if we just apply ourselves to the head and the heart.
Fiona isn't just looking for any man. She wants the right man, one who is capable of appreciating the wonders of Brigadoon and of her. She's willing to be a spinster rather than settle. Miracles? She believes in the power of the heart, but she uses her head. Real love is all about choosing wisely, for the ages, and testing the strength of that love, to be sure it endures through eternity. This is not a contemporary girl working her way through men like they're tissues. Fiona wants the real deal, a man who is willing to rise above ordinary, a man who is able to be inspired. Not every woman and man invites hope and promise to reside in the heart, to grow into actions and deeds. For some, it's too much like work. They expect love to fall into the lap as they sit on the sidelines. Those of us who are true believers know better. Love that transforms takes effort. That is real alchemy.
Every year I forgo that Spring Fever vaccine, that dose of reality that the world can be a cold and lonely place. I want to feel the heat of the sun on my cheek again. I want to feel that bounce in my step. I want to feel like I can tap dance, that I can almost fly through the air, even if my knees now wobble a bit. When I am in motion, I am in the moment, living life out loud. I am free. That's what spring fever does to me. It refreshes my memory. It reminds me that I am here right now and I should savor this magnificent beauty.
Spring fever is contagious. It is that hopeful part of the soul that wants to catch fire, that wants to burn new paths in the landscape. What can I do next? What can I find? What's out there? And with whom can I share it? Is there anything more amazing than a person who hums with that vibrant energy? Don't you just want to bask in that warm glow of sunlight?
I don't ever want to be too old to catch a really bad case of spring fever. I always want to look forward to life, to love, to happiness and beyond. I want to believe that we can still make a positive difference, that we can reach the spirits of those who have closed themselves off from the rest of the world through bitterness, hatred, and despair.
When hope comes pouring through the fields and meadows in April, when it flows over each of us like a Scottish mist on the Highlands, it's up to us to embrace it, to accept its potent powers. When that little tingle begins in the heart and circulates through the body, we should use it to energize ourselves, to rise above the mundane, the ordinary, the obstacles that hold us down. The winter of the soul is over. It is time to awaken once again and nurture the human heart.
Tommy allowed himself to be swayed by the "should do", the "have to do", the "must do" of the ordinary crowd. He abandoned the joy and promise of Brigadoon for the version of an ordinary life. After Jeff managed to convince his buddy that Brigadoon was just an illusion, a fantasy, Tommy got all the way back to New York before he realized that his love for Fiona was true. Returned to the mundane, he had no choice but to reject it. Once you feel that enveloping energy in your soul of what may be, what can be with a little effort on your part, once you taste its honey sweetness on your tongue and you sniff that lovely fragrance, how can you ever settle for anything less? How can you not wait for your dearie? How can you not seek your Brigadoon?
Yes, there is magic in the April air, but it is up to us to make the miracles manifest. What good is spring fever if we fend it off, if we steel ourselves to remain unchanged by it? Brigadoon was tucked away from the ordinary world in order to preserve it, but those doors opened up from time to time, in search of believers who could appreciate its bewitching qualities. Heaven knows we all need to visit a mythical Shangri La -- a place where life is good and people sing and dance their way through the day. All that music, all that movement -- it makes us feel vibrantly alive. It reminds us in every cell of our bodies that we need more, we should be more, we can have more. Fiona was not willing to settle for just an ordinary man. She wanted a man who knew his own heart and was committed to it, who was willing to return to an extraordinary place in search of his dearie or be destined to wander ever more.
Life is only as much as you allow it to be. You can live it safely, tucked away and disconnected, or you can embrace it, believe in it, and use it to achieve those miracles we all desperately need. They allow us to remember who we are as human beings and what matters most to us.
When I was a twenty-something, my motto was live life, love life, and love. Now as I head into sixty, the only change I would make to that is this. Do it bodaciously!
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