Open Heart, Open Mind: The Doctor is IN

Among odder things I'm finding myself engaged in, the latest seems to have been finding myself writing on deep interpersonal relationships. While I'm hardly qualified academically, and my heart's track record is lousy, still I've been able to draw what may be good insights and suggestions from somewhere. So when posed a question or two, I may be able to have some suggestions.

I'm going to post a few of those here. First off is my interchange (over the course of a few days) with a newer female acquaintance who seemed to be on slightly shaky ground in her heart and life. I haven't asked her permission to post this, and will certainly take it down if requested. Until then, I'm editing a little, and obscuring some of her personal details (I don't know much at all about her personal life). Let's call her Randi (this will be a catch-all name). She asked her questions of a good several people:

Sent: 2007-04-28, 10:52PM EDT

I am just looking for what is a general belief by men... I know some of your answers will be at extremes... but, a unscientific poll is enough for my purposes.

a dear male friend wrote this to me:

I think number one must be the family when it comes down to marriage problems.. the family must be protected financially. They need security. Never trust a man to keep his word. Men say anything to get what they want.

You may not agree but I hope for your daughters sake you are willing to close your eyes to whatever he is doing if he is doing it. Some men need to look around as long as they just look or sample but not leave..

Practical marriage means ignoring many things as long as there is security. It is a very hard reality for a wife to accept. He must be discrete if he is fooling around.

My questions:

1. Is sex outside of a marriage, just an eventual reality that should be accepted?? Or is this just a minority view this man has?...

2. I realize if I choose to be in a nonmongamous relationship, I accept sex outside the marriage, but if monogamy is promised… is it just a lie??? To get what you want??

Thanks for the honesty... I do know that what is written can also apply to women. The real question is ..does monogamy exist or is it just a "ploy" for whatever you want?

Thank you!

So I gave this some time and thought while working on other things, and eventually sent her this:

Subject: RE: Poll

Sure; I'll take a swing at those questions. I may not be an ideal sample, since by nature – a straight, feminist, and celibate male – I'm a definite minority.

Question 1: This is that man's view, and may be his rationalization for cheating on, or wanting to cheat on, his wife. Or, quite differently, he is a true friend, trying to relieve you of some of your own pain from your husband (just guessing!!).

Marriage starts with vows, which generally contain a commitment to spend one's lives together, and focus one's heart exclusively on the other. Men are so configured by God that they're both weak and hungry sexually. Fortunately, we men can be satisfied quite quickly... though never for very long – which is why the marriage had better consist of more than just state-licensed sex! This is where the bond – nurtured, encouraged, taught, cherished – must at its heart be the heart. This means love... and love itself, in some ways, is a healthy selfishness, balanced by trust. And it means laughter, playing, full/rich/deep enjoyment of the other's company outside the bedroom. (Robert Heinlein once said something along the lines of "love is what goes on when you're not sexually aroused".)

It is truly the rare married man who at least doesn't notice, sometimes even look at, beautiful women. However, if he loves his wife (and there is thus a mutual flow of trust), he doesn't seek. Fantasy of another woman is marginally acceptable at best, since in his heart the man is loving someone other than his wife. But the loving man doesn't take even a tiptoe down that path.

I think I'm already moving into Question Two: If both spouses are stepping outside their vows and being intimate with someone else, and doing so with the other spouse's acceptance, I would expect the marriage to fly apart or implode pretty quickly, since it would be too easy to find the non-spouse to be of greater appeal, which leads to resentment in both spouses. And there are bound, as well, to be inner conflicts between the spouse's want/need, and the like of the non-marital partner.

Does all this make sense? Either marriage is cheap and pro-forma and in name only (e.g., for the kids, or reduced-price housing), or it is a lifetime commitment. If it is a lifetime commitment, then stepping outside the vows isn't just "cheating" – it's betrayal. Monogamy has been promised. If the marriage is to be solid and healthy and last a long time (ideally, for life), then it has to orbit and pivot around the emotions (=love) and needs (=intimacy) of each spouse for the other exclusively.

Why should a good, healthy, loving spouse even want "sex outside of the marriage"? A truly loving couple will continue to learn new things about each other, will experiment respectfully with new roles/methods/techniques/locations, etc., to keep it fresh and growing. If things are getting stale, then something is at least slightly wrong inside at least one of the two spouses. Out of love, the two of them will look at this gently and patiently, possibly call in outside help (e.g., counselor, Marriage Encounter, etc.) in extremis to help the two of them get things back on track, or even on a whole new – though mutual, and exclusive! – track.

I believe that it would be extremely unusual for an "open" marriage to last very long. A "marriage" of this sort (i.e., additional partners "on the side", or even extras brought in to expand the couple/coupling)… that will remain strong and vibrant, is as common as socks on a snake. Essentially, there's no such animal. If there is "philandering" going on now, it has to stop, the marital partners need to reconcile, and start taking care of each other all over again. Or the partners have to abandon the concept of trust, which means that any love they have for the other is hollow, likely even a sham.

And functioning on the desire to "get what you want" is selfish, immature, disrespectful, unloving, and an iceberg tearing through the structural integrity of a lovely ship that ought to be able to cross the vast ocean of life, not tear apart and sink to the bottom with all hands.

I hope none of this comes across as harsh... I know it's terribly wordy, and I'm overdue for my zzz's by at least three or four hours. Blasted computer is too distracting.

Take care, and I hope at least this gives you a little bit to think about. Good luck!

AgingChild

She answered me:

Sent: Sunday, April 29, 2007 7:40 AM

Thank you for your answers… neither myself or my daughter are married, but for her she is "scheduled" to enter this marital bond in 3 months... and i fear it isn't the best choice now.

I agree with everything you wrote and appreciate that enough to not "generalize" men in to the category of what this one male friend of mine wrote... now where the men are that hold the same ideals that you write about is the question. At 51, I just about have given up on that being a possibility for me, but don't want to give up or encourage mu daughter to give up on that being a possibility for her. thanks for confirming that she shouldn't.

Hope you slept well and know that at least you restored someone's "faith" that woman are more than a "vessel for sexual pleasure… on demand" for some men.

I wrote back:

Sent: Sunday, April 29, 2007 1:49 PM

I got married at twenty-one to my pregnant, seventeen-year-old girlfriend back in 1982, and barely three years later we were divorcing, though I managed to get custody of our daughter… since I was able to prove to the court that her mom was the spouse stepping outside our marriage. I've long-since forgiven her in my heart, and our girl has turned out beautifully – she got the best possible combination: mom's looks, and dad's mouth… whew!

Your friend really isn't too far off the mark; most of us men are selfish scum. But we don't have to be; it's not an excuse… and hardly absolves us of our honest responsibilities to our wife/girlfriend, our families, and to ourself. Men and women marry as strangers, no matter how long they've known each other… and it quickly becomes too easy to take the other for granted. For instance, if I'd been a better husband and father, my wife would not have been attracted to other men, or at least not chosen to act on those attractions.

Even "shotgun" marriages, such as I had, can last through a long lifetime. I think, now, that the way is to never lose sight of the preciousness of the spouse, and to recognize that even while you love her/him, you won't always like him/her – that is one of the shoals that's claimed many a "ship" of marriage.

After a quarter-century (plus) of utterly stupid decisions on my part, broken hearts in my trail (including my own heart too many times), and the beauty of a woman's backside seen one last time as she walks away forever… I think I know now how to make a marriage last for the rest of my life (and not by forcing my next wife to wring my neck!).

But I'm no longer on the market. I decided almost ten years ago to begin taking steps toward the priesthood (or monastery/abbey) – then tried twice more to date, and both times made an utter mess of things. I want now not to give my heart and my all to one more brave/foolish/trusting woman, but instead give all I am to all the world. (What a cliché!)

Let me be clear, though: women are no less beautiful and fascinating to me than they've been since I was, oh, maybe seven years old.

Anyway, be as supportive of your daughter and her wishes – she is your flesh and blood, and trusts your input. If she's young and pregnant, the deck's stacked against the two of them – so as her mother, you have to do all you can to alleviate some of the inevitable strains and demands barreling down the pike at these kids. Oh, and keep your nose out of it unless requested – but babysit frequently, bring the two/three of them dinner every so often, help out with things they need (not $$, but baby clothing, household goods, occasional groceries), and so on. It needn't be "you and me against the world", from their perspective. Allies and advisors (again, not unsolicited!) and encouragers are heartily welcome.

And if there's no li'l one on the way for them yet, and they're hitching themselves to the wagon out of young love… well, much of the above still applies. If your daughter (and son-in-law to-be) isn't too terribly agnostic or neo-pagan, have the two of them (or even just her) sit down with the minister or counselor at the family church. No? Try the yellow pages – a number of churches offer pastoral counseling.

One of the blessings that graced my life was a Methodist minister's daughter, whom I dated for most of two years. Early on in our relationship, we began going to what amounted to non-marital marital counseling at one of the local Methodist churches. This was deeply enriching and strengthening, and we very nearly didn't make the sad mistake, at the end, of relearning old habits of selfishness… we very nearly did make it, and my life is far richer (as is my Christian/Catholic faith) for the experience of having shared a portion of her life.

Back to your daughter: If these kids are honestly open to advice, you can certainly suggest they hold off a while longer – but it's just as likely that they'd resent this of you, as heed it. You truly may not be able to do much more than love and encourage both of them (and pray for them) – and at their age and yours, that's okay. I would advise that you keep your misgivings mum, Mum… they really need to know that someone they trust believes in them… so do so. Again, they very well may beat the odds – greater miracles happen every day.

And re your own life: if I may suggest further (while conceding like Heinlein that unsolicited, free advice is worth every penny paid): Just be yourself. Do the things you like: knit, hike, sing, pray, play, go to sporting events, go boating and fishing and driving and traveling and taking classes. Have fun! Volunteer at the soup kitchen, at a community cleanup, at a local school.

Don't go looking for someone else. The best men, I suspect, aren't surfing the net or scoping the personals – they're too busy having fun the same way I suggested above. Thus, you put yourself out in front of them in the best possible way (i.e., not trying), and they get to see the wonderful sight of your smiling and being happy and enjoying yourself… and they'll want to be part of that too.

At worst… you'll still be having a wonderful time. I don't need a woman to live a full and rich life; you don't need a man for the same. Paradoxically, if he sees how rich and fulfilled your life is… he and his brothers-in-nature will all be asking you out. And you don't have to say yes, either. But don't be surprised if you find you've landed on a startled (and delighted!) man's lap!

Do it for you first. Here, it's not selfishness: it's taking care of yourself and broadening your very nature, and being, as Objective One. There will be men in your life, in varying degrees – but there can only be one you in your own, and you've got to take care of her… so treat her to a great, 'nother long span of years. You'll have plenty to grin about proudly on your deathbed – and you're nearly guaranteed that a wonderful, weeping man will be holding your hand in your final moments.

Bonus: it's a great example to your daughter and her husband. One more Heinlein paraphrase: live life in big bites!

Regards,

AgingChild

Brother! Where was I when I needed me back in the early eighties? Shoot, even just in the early to mid-nineties!

En Passant: Sticking It to the "Man"

A pair of bumper-stickers seen yesterday: 

NO MORE BU**SH** (spelled exactly like that) 

Annoy a conservative – think for yourself! 

Heh-heh; many days I wish I drove a large box truck… then I might almost have enough space for all the stickers I want to buy and slap on. Failing that, I'll giggle and delight in the stickers other folks have.

 

Pundemonium: Coloring Outside the Box

On the way to the elevator (no direct flight of stairs to the parking deck), I'll ordinarily pass the cubicle of semi-boss, coworker, attorney, and IT whiz Ben. I stopped at his cube-entrance this afternoon after I'd shut down my computer, locked up the essentials, and donned my briefcase. 

"I'm going to make like a shepherd," I announced to him, then stood by, patient and silent. 

Ben pinched up his face, laid a hand across his mouth, and began tapping his finger on his cheek as he leaned back to think. I could nearly hear the gears, though in his case they run pretty smoothly. Let's see; "Make like a drum" = "…and beat it"; "Make like a banana" = "…and split". (There's even the tasteless "Make like a baby and head out".) But a shepherd? Finally he raised his eyebrows in annoyance. 

I continued, "…and get the flock out of here." And turned and began to walk down the hall. Behind me, I heard (faintly), "You'd better run while you still can." 

Ben may have been ticked off due to another exchange maybe half an hour earlier. I was looking over some checks that had come in from a few of our indebted employees. One check appeared to be someone's entire (US) tax-refund check – it had "US Treasury" on it, the Statue of Liberty, and so on. The signature was rubber-stamped (anyone remember Pink Floyd's "When the Tigers Broke Free"? No?), and I looked closely at the name signed. "Oh, NO!" I gasped, and leapt out of my chair and headed over to Ben's cubicle. 

I showed him the check, and pointed at the stamped signature. "What name is that?" I asked. 

Ben peered at it, and began spelling the last name out: "M, A, N, G… E?" 

"I thought it was an A." 

"Could be." 

"Do you know what that spells? 'Manga'. Do you know what that is?" I knew he did. Ben nodded. 

"But do you know what this means?" I went on, excitement building in my voice. 

Ben shook his head in cluelessness. 

"It means," I explained as I took the check from his hands and began walking back to my desk, "that he's an anime of the state." 

Most of a minute of horrified silence. Then, from Ben: "I can't hear you."

 

A Good Hearing, or Another Red Herring?

More certainly goes on at work than passing out flowers and cooler-bags, of course. 

Priscilla (who now has to explain to her husband the embarrassing bald spot in her garden) and another coworker, Fannie, were in Priscilla's cubicle, diagonal from mine, talking about something. Usually I shut my ears to ongoing conversations – the appropriately padded walls of our cubicles don't shut them out completely. But sometimes, exchanges just lodge in my ears… and with no context to frame them, either: 

Priscilla: I don't mean to be an ingrate, but ― 

Fannie: No, be an ingrate; I like that about you! 

And just to prove that Ben doesn't restrict his comments to puns, he's good with rhetorical questions. In fact, the other day I foolishly asked him, "What if there were no rhetorical questions?" 

He smiled with interest and leaned his elbows on the chest-high shelf that marks the top of my cubicle. "You know," he began, "since you ask that…", stopping when he noticed I'd recognized I'd been stung again. 

A while back, Hugo and Ben literally had a loud, afternoon-long debate on whether one's sense of honor toward other people should, and could, diminish over time. At some point Ben mentioned to Hugo the concept of verbal conundra, though he didn't take that concept much further. Later, I asked Ben: "Some time you've got to tell Hugo the story of the Paradox of Zeno." 

Ben looked apologetic. "I know, but every time I try, I never get to finish it." 

Anyway, he came up to my desk on Monday and asked me, "What is the German word for 'auditorium'?" 

I thought a second. "Uh, I believe it's 'Hörsaal '." 

"Which means?" 

This was obviously an etymological question. "It's a large room – Saal – where you can, well, listen to stuff: hören. Just like in Latin" (Ben's an attorney, so he does ow-knay ome-say Atin-lay); "audīre means 'to hear' or 'to listen' – so you've got 'audio' in English." 

"Right," said Ben in too-ready agreement. "So…" (uh-oh) "can you show a silent movie in an auditorium?" He walked away. 

My pupils must have gotten tiny as I turned my gaze up to the ceiling, and began stroking my chin contemplatively. I've yet to find a good answer.

 

Pundemonium: Keeping Your Cool at Work

Today was Administrative Professionals' Day, formerly named Secretaries' Day. Yours truly, as is likely obvious from other postings here, is an Administrative Assistant (Senior) to a corporate director (and staff of nearly twenty) for a major, world-spanning firm headquartered not far from the Washington DC / Baltimore / Philadelphia megalopolis.

Traditionally in the office, the department gets together and presents their admin with a small gift, a card, maybe flowers. Previous years (with various firms) have seen me receiving various nice little pieces of office gear, and so on – more than once I've been the recipient of a nice, logo-bearing coffee cup… which I turn over to my mother (or to brother Sarge, who works as an engineer for directly competing firm), who is a coffee drinker. And this gives me to opportunity to say in mock outrage: "On this day of all days, I got mugged!"

Naïve me… I'd forgotten today was that day, so was puzzled (though delighted) to see one of our tête-à-tête tables set up with a platter of sliced fruit, box of "donut holes", another box (yes) of fresh-brewed coffee (which I still don't drink). I snagged a hole on the way to my desk… and was surrounded by most of the department at my next pass by the table.

Besides a thoughtful card and some beautiful flowers (mostly deep burgundy tulips) direct from Priscilla's garden, they also presented me with a nice insulated canvas bag, obviously designed both to keep a six pack (of soda, beer being a no-no in the office) cold, and show prominently our corporate logo.

"Thanks, all of you," I said sincerely, and then pointed at my face. "And all this red is sunburn from Sunday's 5K, not a blush," I added, blushing.

Aurelio, my Italian coworker, asked unwisely whether I might have a pun for the occasion. "Well… I just have to say" – and I waved the insulated bag over my head – "that I couldn't work for a cooler group of people."

The Mouse, the Crow, and the Cockroach

Lest anyone think I've mercilessly leapt up and down on poor conservative friend Anon E. Mouse in hobnailed boots, ruining a bee-youtiful friendship… I opened up a lighthearted exchange with her just to ensure I hadn't, plus I figured her conservative friends might get a kick out of circulating among themselves a story of flaky liberal ideas… 

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 2:03 PM
Subject: Wiping Out Global Warming

Thought you might get a chuckle out of this approach/idea: http://news.yahoo.com/s/afp/20070423/od_afp/entertainmentus_070423163424 

Be great to have the worry behind us, huh? 

AgingChild 

Here's the article, in case the link gives out at some point: 

Give Global Warming the Bum's Rush: Sheryl Crow

Mon Apr 23, 1:23 PM ET

Sheryl Crow is suggesting a bottom-up solution to wipe away global warming: limit each trip to the bathroom to one piece of toilet paper, according to a statement on the US rocker's website.

Crow said she had spent most of an environmental tour of US college campuses thinking of easy ways for people to battle climate change.

"Although my ideas are in the earliest stages of development, they are, in my mind, worth investigating. One of my favorites is in the area of conserving trees, which we heavily rely on for oxygen," the signed statement said.

"I propose a limitation be put on how many squares of toilet paper can be used in any one sitting," she explained.

"I think we are an industrious enough people that we can make it work with only one square per restroom visit, except, of course, on those pesky occasions where two to three could be required."

Other plans she has included not using paper napkins.

"I have designed a clothing line that has what's called a 'dining sleeve.' The sleeve is detachable and can be replaced with another 'dining sleeve,' after usage," she explained in the increasingly bizarre posting.

"The design will offer the 'diner' the convenience of wiping his mouth on his sleeve rather than throwing out yet another barely used paper product... this idea could also translate quite well to those suffering with an annoying head cold."

Her third idea was for a television reality show in which the winner would be the contestant who lives the most environmentally-friendly life. The prize would be a recording contract.

Crow's spokesman was not immediately available to elaborate on the singer's proposals.

Copyright © 2007 Agence France Presse. All rights reserved. The information contained in the AFP News report may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed without the prior written authority of Agence France Presse.  

So Anon wrote back: 

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 2:09 PM
Subject: RE: Wiping Out Global Warming 

Wonder what size the square would be.  Better yet we could all use, can’t think of the word, that the French had in most bathrooms, that washes you.  No paper. 

Regards,
Anon E. Mouse

"that [thing] the French had in most bathrooms"? She doesn't know what a – ? 

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 2:20 PM
Subject: RE: Let Us Spray 

Ah! You're thinking of a bidet (And warm water, no less!): http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bidet 

Of course, then the contention will be that we're using too much water… 

PS: There was one in "Crocodile Dundee"; the Aussie bloke discovered he had one in his NYC hotel room, and concluded it was a water fountain! 

AgingChild 

Heh-heh… 

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 2:24 PM

You got it.  Yea, knew it would then turn into a water issue, but at least the trees would be saved. 

Regards,
Anon  

I managed to get serious a moment (and hint at an area of recent contention between us); no response as of close of business today: 

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 2:45 PM
Subject: RE: Let Us Be Cool

Ah… but will they make it through the ensuing drought? 

Grand-scale issues can't be resolved by a simple, single approach: global warming, racism, economy, culture-clash, pollution. Speaking of Australia, the Aussies discovered this when they imported rabbits in the 1800s (IIRC) to deal with weeds. Trouble is, rabbits will be rabbits; thus… population explosion of rabbits in the Outback: no natural predators, either! 

Another solution would be to suggest we revert to our grandparents' method of using pages from the Sears Catalog. Whoops; they merged with KMart. Or is that Wal-Mart? 

Actually, one tongue-in-cheek – but really intriguing – suggestion I've heard to conquer global warming is to set off a bunch of nukes, and bring on a nuclear winter. Further suggestion is to test the idea in downtown Teheran… 

Look who's downwind of Iran, by the way, where the radioactives would fall: Afghanistan, China… 

AgingChild 

I suggested Teheran only as a polite concession to her conservative stance on world (and domestic) issues; I do not advocate flattening, or irradiating, that city… nor indeed using a nuclear option to address climatology. This is much like the classic (but true!) urban legend of a man getting rid of his cockroaches by setting off a bunch of bug-bombs in his house… only to have his gas-stove's pilot light ignite the fumes, and level the house. The cockroaches are said to have survived.

 

Mouse's Tarbrush

While I was sleeping soundly in the wee hours this morning, having done a little carbo-loading in advance of today's 5K-trot, Spartacus was keying out a response to Mouse's "Proud to Be White" email. As I mentioned not too long ago, Sparks cuts through most BS like… well, like a plow cuts through a line of BS and turns it into fertilizer for something much more tasty and far less objectionable. 

I'm not going to pass it along to Mouse (and Spart doesn't request it) for the very reason he gives in his first paragraph. Spartacus, you've got the soapbox: 

I also received that same POS white pride thingy you got from your mousey friend. I got it from an old(er) dear friend of mine, and I knew from past experience that getting into it with him would serve no useful purpose, so I just quietly trashed it. 

Re Mousy's use of her grandparents as an example--I love how many times that always gets trotted out to justify one's racism. Hey guess what--my grandparents (on both sides) were immigrants too. In spite of all the hardships they had to endure, they enjoyed the key and supreme advantage of being WHITE in a white society!!! They also had an intact (extended) family structure to help ease the transition (to a certain extent), and they came from a culture which was basically similar to the one they found in America. 

Let's contrast that with the blacks, whose families were torn apart by slavery, dragged here involuntarily to an entirely alien environment and culture from what they had known--and no matter how many generations they remain in this country they will always and forever be recognized immediately as DIFFERENT solely because of the color of their skin. Unfortunately nothing will really change until ALL people of all colors wake up to truly believe in their hearts, as MLK used to say, that what is important is not the color of a person's skin, but the "content of their character". 

The white master race has ghettoized blacks, demonized, marginalized, and humiliated them; cheated them at every turn, spat on them despite their every effort to assimilate (anyone remember the black volunteers from the Revolution, the Civil War, WWI, WWII. etc? How about the Tuskegee Airmen?). Were their efforts appreciated? Were white minds changed? No, instead they were segregated, lynched and exploited. 

Millions of blacks, starting from even before this country became the USA and continuing right on through today, managed to live productive, crime free lives, many enduring the most grinding and hopeless poverty imaginable (through no fault of their own other than having a dark skin color), and yet it is so easy for even supposedly educated intelligent white people to characterize the entire race as lazy, shiftless, amoral criminals--and they do it with a straight face!!! And they defend themselves!!!!! 

Is the white race really so morally perfect? Weren't some of the greatest murderers of all time white? Hitler and Stalin come immediately to mind--between just the 2 of them we are talking somewhere on the order of 40 MILLION or more dead! Any comparable black mass murderers? Well, there was Idi Amin, some other two-bit African dictators, Duvalier & son in Haiti, and some lesser known tribal elements including the Hutus of Rwanda--collectively, their scores come nowhere near our two paragons of white pride, der Fuehrer and good ol' Uncle Joe! 

Some may say, "Hey, that's not fair, you're talking about nationwide events and war!". OK, how about individual murderers? Let's see, virtually all American serial killers have been white. I can only recall one black serial killer, though I can't remember his name, he was convicted for a bunch of child murders in Atlanta back in the '70s or '80s. Anyway, he was strictly penny-ante compared to that shining example of white patriotism, Timothy McVeigh, let alone the legions of other sick, white, mass murdering bastards. 

Moving on from murder, how about robbery, and/or murder committed during robbery? All the famous vicious robber/murderers of the Great Depression were white--Baby Face Nelson, Pretty Boy Floyd, Machine Gun Kelly, Ma Barker and her family, Bonnie and Clyde, John Dillinger. I thought whites had a work ethic and knew how to hunker down and thrive during economic adversity…? 

The white race doesn't have to take a back seat to anyone when it comes to criminality. There was also the virtual genocide of the so-called "Indians" (the indigenous people of America) at the hands of white folk, and the Ku Klux Klan, the Mafia--do I really have to go on?! When will racists see how ridiculous their prejudices are--just as the "white race" did not commit all the above listed crimes, but rather white individuals and groups, so it is with the "black race"--condemn the individual who is guilty of the crime, not an entire race for the crimes of the individual. Why is that such a hard concept to understand? 

I also find it paradoxical that white American culture, which has so universally condemned the black race, has also almost equally universally embraced (and co-opted) other elements of black culture. For instance, virtually the entire past 100 years of popular music in America is the history of black-originated music--blues, ragtime, jazz, gospel, R&B, soul, even rock & roll (don't believe that one--go listen to some Big Joe Turner and then tell me otherwise--let alone Jimi Hendrix being the greatest electric rock guitarist who ever lived!). 

There's no more I can add here. For those who feel similarly, there's no need to say more. And for those who don't, there's nothing I (or Spartacus, or the ghosts of Martin, Booker, or Jimi) could possibly go on with that would make the least part of difference. It might help to buy a copy of "Crash", and watch it… though I doubt even that would be much of step in turning the shameful numbers around. 

Let me close with Spartacus's final word; he generally signs off his email with a great (and generally previously unknown) quote; this one's by Amos Bronson Alcott: "Civilization degrades the many to exalt the few." 

Amen, brother. Let me hear you say Yeah!

 

48:02

Yes, that was my time for today's 5K: forty-eight minutes and two seconds – and I overheard one of the record-keepers saying that the clock was four seconds fast. Well, I'll take that oh-two anyway. I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of the time – I finished. Oh, I'd certainly like to improve it; a few years back, my time was under forty minutes. But a few years before that, I wasn't running at all. I will improve my time, which I can do by running more on these courses, and walking/trudging them less… plus more practice.

Older brother Sarge ran a 15K that started an hour after ours, and his time was ninety-something minutes (and he looked beat afterward… but he, too, had completed his run). Although I won't normally post pictures of myself or/and of other people mentioned here, I'm adding here a photo of Sarge (left, of course) and me (right) as we're about to cross the finish line.

Sarge's regular companion, Chonggun-nunim, my sister-in-law-in-law, joined me for the 5K, though once we passed the first mile-marker, I began my jogs/sprints, and she finished several minutes behind me. Now, this evening has my face and arms quite red – this early in April, there was no leaf-cover over the trail we ran, a former railroad-track now torn out and replaced with a fine gravel. I'll slather on the aloe today and the next couple days, and be fine – though I should have used the sunblock I'd brought.

I called Spartacus as we were starting out, and again when I finished, since the town where we did this is the same town where he and I attended a couple years of elementary school together, mumble years ago. On the phone, I cautioned him, "Look, just because I called you panting, doesn't mean it's a compliment!" He laughed it off. I offered him to join us sometime (we're of similar circumference), maybe even head up to his seaside state for a run; he declined for now, and insisted there'd have to be an ambulance. "Okay," I said cheerily, "you can drive the ambulance, and I'll ride in back – just keep the paddles warm and greased up, okay?"

This being lovely, bucolic, rural southern-central northeast US, it wasn't surprising that in the 5K there was a farm-figured Mennonite woman in homespun, prayer cap, and sturdy black walking shoes – and, amazingly, she pulled the event's bright orange tee shirt down over her green, feedsack-pattern dress. Here she is as she nears the finish line:

At a couple points before and after the race, we also saw some of this area's regular horse-and-sulkies (though no buggies this time). The air, too, was rather obviously that of horse- and farm-country… not extremely so, however.

Chonggun-nunim and I started out at the back, with maybe three to six people behind us, all walking (though briskly at times), and I did pass some more as the event progressed, but this wasn't an objective. I didn't quite catch up to the nun in crutches, the guy walking on his hands, and the trio of one-legged runners. Maybe next time.

Just kidding! Some folks had brought li'l ones in strollers, and ran or walked with them, others their larger dogs. In fact, even while trudging along, I managed to toss out a pun at a woman headed back the other way (we were running out just over a mile and a half, turning around, and heading back, to get the full 3.2 miles). She was running with a light-colored, sleek-looking greyhoundish dog. I greeted her with a cheery "Now, that's one way to set a target, and whippet!"

We stopped by our dad's grave, and were pleased to see a beautiful little purple-blossomed forsythia growing near his marker. This had been planted by our sister Mew on her visit a month or so ago. The cemetery asks that we not plant flowers, so eventually the mower will claim this pretty sight… but it was still sweet to see, especially with purple being Dad's favorite color. Sarge got a couple photos (I may post them later), and then got an additional photo of the steeple of Dad's church, which can be seen from his grave – which was the prime reason we chose that particular spot. And Dad loved his church (and denomination) very much, so this is just right. Here's a photo of it that Mew took last Fall:

Nearby is also visible the tall Victorian tower of the main building at the university where he taught nearly forty years. This, too, must please him. The official name of that building is Old Main (as you'll find at many universities and larger colleges); typical of him, he deliberately twisted the name – in a process he called Mangled Saxon – into "Old Pain".

Likely he's delighted by his neighbors. A nineteenth-century marker close to his commemorates a Jonathan Sebastian (Dad loved Bach); the immediate neighbor to his left is a woman with the odd name of Ditty Delilah (which I pronounce as "Dirty Delilah"), and to his right a – no kidding – David Butts… might be Seymour's brother?

Pundemonium: Someday Our Prints Will Come

…and now let's wash out our eyes with something slightly lighter-hearted. 

The usual goings-on go on at work, even while here on the blog I'm unwrapping a chocolate Jesus – and tearing into, let us say, the anti-chocolate faction. 

Earlier this week, one of my bosses – have I mentioned Kendra before? – was patiently looking over a long, impromptu demo that Ben was presenting for her in his office. It involved some pretty elaborate manipulations, via Microsoft Excel, of ways of converting various world currencies while calculating ranges of costs of living in different regions of various world countries. 

Ben's quite the wiz with Excel… and if I can make that program fetch and roll over, he can get it to fly without a cape, bark a sonnet, and draw nothing but aces from an unstacked deck. Anyway, I was just slightly auditing his demonstration and explanation to a very patient Kendra (I'm in the next cubicle over)… and hurriedly covered my mouth before I could laugh at her comment to wrap the demonstration up: "Well, I say it's fuzzy math – not because I don't understand it, but because I need glasses." 

And today Ben walked past my desk, grumbling, to the corner printer (his own must have been down). "Boy, this printer sucks!" he growled. 

I snorted as a kind of audible, nonverbal eye-rolling, and explained, "That's why it keeps pulling in paper, Ben."

 

Lost Legacy: Black, White, and Blue

My lovely, and very conservative, friend Anon E. Mouse, also known as F1, is back. I thought one of my shots from the left had scared her away, but fortunately that's not the case. 

One of the things most likely to get me "hopping mad" (as Dad used to say; RIP) is racism, most especially the domestic American sort, since I was largely raised within that culture. One of Mouse's friends alluded to it during one of our debates, then backpedaled (and I did too, after calling him on it), but I didn't think she'd subscribe to such a narrow-minded notion herself. I was disappointed to receive the following email from her this morning. 

First, though, let me apologize sincerely for some of the words and terms used by the original author, and (sadly) tacitly endorsed by my friend, an intelligent woman who should know much better. I apologize as well for dirtying this site with the author's assertion and notions; I most certainly do not share them. (I've reformatted just a bit, and minimally touched up some of the punctuation – as usual, hate literature betrays its adherents' lack of sound education.): 

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Friday, April 20, 2007 9:23 AM
Subject: FW: Fw: Proud To Be White 

Proud To Be White 

[image: painting of a rugged, older, gun-carrying cowboy] 

Someone finally said it. 

How many are actually paying attention to this? 

There are African Americans, Mexican Americans, Asian Americans, Arab Americans, Native Americans, etc. 

And then there are just Americans. 

You pass me on the street and sneer in my direction. 

You Call me "White boy," "Cracker," "Honkey," "Whitey," "Caveman"... 

And that's OK. 

But when I call you, Nigger, Kike, Towel head, Sand-nigger, Camel Jockey, Beaner, Gook, or Chink... 

You call me a racist.

Also added is Nappy Headed HO's

You say that whites commit a lot of violence against you, so why are the ghettos the most dangerous places to live? 

You have the United Negro College Fund. 

You have Martin Luther King Day. 

You have Black History Month. 

You have Cesar Chavez Day. 

You Have Yom Hashoah 

You have Ma'uled Al-Nabi 

You have the NAACP. 

You have BET. 

If we had WET (White Entertainment Television)... 

We'd be racists. 

If we had a White Pride Day... 

You would call us racists. 

If we had White History Month 

We'd be racists. 

If we had any organization for only whites to "advance" OUR lives... 

We'd be racists. 

We have a Hispanic Chamber of Commerce, a Black Chamber of Commerce, 

And then we just have the plain Chamber of Commerce. 

Wonder who pays for that? 

If we had a college fund that only gave white students scholarships... 

You know we'd be racists. 

There are over 60 openly proclaimed Black Colleges in the US, 

Yet if there were "White colleges"… 

THAT would be a racist college. 

In the Million Man March, you believed that you were marching for your race and rights. 

If we marched for our race and rights, 

You would call us racists. 

You are proud to be black, brown, yellow and orange, and you're not afraid to announce it. 

But when we announce our white pride... 

You call us racists. 

You rob us, carjack us, and shoot at us. 

But, when a white police officer shoots a black gang member or beats up a black drug-dealer running from the law and posing a threat to society... 

You call him a racist. 

I am proud. 

But, you call me a racist. 

Why is it that only whites can be racists? 

There is nothing improper about this e-mail. 

Let's see which of you are proud enough to send it on. 

[image: painting of cowboy father and son, riding horses] 

I was livid. I stopped what I was doing (something time-critical for the Director), sent back my response. While it was aimed at all people who tout such a lowbrow life, my phrasing may have made it come across to Mouse as blasting specifically at her: 

Sent: Friday, April 20, 2007 10:05 AM
Subject: RE: Fw: Proud To Be White 

Oh, please! You want a real bigotry test? How many of you Dixie-flag saluters would rather die than receive a blood transfusion from a man or woman of color? All of you? No surprise there. Me, I'd be honored. How about serve as a missionary, or doctor, or nurse, in Africa… or even Guadalajara? Or does your skin crawl when a black man gets in line behind you at McDonald's? 

"Whiteness" as such is strictly a matter of melanin; it's controlled by genetics. Groups banding together due to a melanin-rich genetic background (as mentioned by the unnamed, bedsheet-wearing coward of an author who wrote that execrable piece) have done so because power-wielding Caucasians oppressed them for generations; the legacy can be seen in those statistics alluded to. 

I want no part of "white pride". These narrow-minded hypocritical bigots have totally lost sight of the real "white pride" legacy: the whip-hand, the lynching, the cross-burnings, kidnapped Africans stacked like cordwood in leaking ships and dragged across the ocean to be sold like third-rate rotting produce, and other horrors that assure the "whites-only" folks will never be white-handed: generations of spilled blood do not wipe off through sanctimonious, ignorant, fantasy-based "pride". 

"White pride" can go to hell, and burn with every man and woman who'd rather spit on a non-Caucasian than feed him, or bind his wounds, or give him a job. You go ahead and form your lynch-mobs and hate-groups, and puff yourselves up arrogantly; me, "may I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Galatians 6:14)… the same cross you'd rather see burning than redeeming. Perhaps it's that page out of Galatians you're using first as tinder. 

Regards,

AgingChild 

Mouse responded very quickly: 

Sent: Friday, April 20, 2007 10:17 AM
Subject: RE: Fw: Proud To Be White 

AC, in all seriousness how come we're called racists yet I can't call them racists when they spout off about Black History month, Miss Black USA, etc. I'm tried of it all. Plus I'm tired off all the hoppla over African American, you're either an American or you're not! What, should I call myself a White American? 

I gave her my response in turn… calming down a bit a third of the way in: 

Sent: Friday, April 20, 2007 10:51 AM
Subject: RE: Fw: Proud To Be White

Anyone is a racist who rejects a fellow human on the basis of their ethnicity, especially as manifested outwardly in the arguably insignificant difference of skin-pigmentation. So an African-American who says his daughter may not marry a Caucasian because he's a Caucasian is, yes, a racist. So is, say, a man behind the microphone – with millions of adherents – who from his public position mocks a group of people based on racially-identifiable features and patterns of speech. So is a German (or Iranian) who wants to burn all people of Jewish descent. 

People of all colors are equal in all ways by right of being children of God, and his children on this earth. But those who resent a subgroup of their nation because the nation's heritage has caused this subgroup to have greater needs that must be attended to… are not just racists, but also ignorant, undereducated, cultureless, overgrown infants who've forgotten history. 

More kindly: don't let the labels bother you. Here we are indeed all Americans. We are all God's creation. And in this country we desperately need to rectify generations of wrongs inflicted by our ancestors on fellow-citizens' ancestors. If we can do that with open hearts and souls and minds, there'll no longer be any need for NAACP, and no pseudo-justification for the Aryan Nation. 

White American, Caucasian-American… sure, why not? But most of these other groups consist of folks who – within your own lifetime and mine – could not get a seat at a lunch counter, let alone time under the spotlight to be told she's beautiful inside and out. Laws passed from the mid-1860s to the mid-1960s were enacted to give legal rights of equality to all our brothers and sisters in Christ, here in America. 

But you can't legislate people's hearts or impulses. This comes only through keeping the mind and eyes and heart open, the hands joined with them, and with your own in prayer. Resenting someone at the very least because s/he has greater needs describes the immature, and the bully. Spend a Sunday in a black church. Buy and watch "Roots" (and "Schindler's List" while you're at it). Borrow and read a copy of "Black Like Me" (I have one; have loaned it to an African-American friend.) Spend Saturday in a soup kitchen. 

We are called to compassion, mercy, love, understanding. Admittedly, racist attitudes make it hard for me to be compassionate. But remember what we were told about sheep and goats in Matthew 25; I can only hope to be told that "whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me". Nowhere does Jesus speak of color. 

And I closed out the email with a beautiful image of what might be called a more African-blooded Jesus. She did not comment on the picture in her response… possibly he's unrecognizable out of her personal context: 

Sent: Friday, April 20, 2007 11:10 AM
Subject: dialogue 

I agree that we should help those less fortunate but, let's just say we have perhaps a different background. I'm second generation American. Both grandparents on both sides came over from Europe with only 1 suitcase and the determination to make a life for themselves and with grateful heart to have the opportunity to come to America. They disembarked at Liberty Island w/o knowing anyone here. Where they lived I don't know, but they had the grit and determination to find work, whatever that was offered for pennies, slept wherever a place was offered. 

They didn't have organizations that taught them English or helped them out with free food, free housing, they learned it from listening to those around them speak, by listening to the radio and by WANTING to learn the language. They also learned to save a few pennies at a time, and eventually my one grandfather opened his own bakery, and the other from ground up learned how to build homes. 

My one grandmother was a seamstress and she cleaned homes. I'm not an eloquent writer as you are AC, nor can I quote from the Bible or other material with ease. But what I do know is that my grandparents weren't looking for handouts, or someone to help them, they were glad to be in America and they took pride in themselves. They also survived the Depression and being grateful for the liberties that this land offered to them. All 6 sons served in the military and were proud to do so. 

I'm tried of these ungrateful masses that want us to bend over backwards to help them, where we have to have their language on signs and in printed material, because they don't want to learn OUR language yet want to reap the benefits MY family bleed for to keep this nation free. I'm tired of extending a helping hand and keeping quiet when they trash the values and liberties my family worked and bleed for. 

Having blown off most of my steam (and accepted the foolishness of my friend), I sent one more email: 

Sent: Friday, April 20, 2007 1:01 PM
Subject: RE: dialogue 

Mouse, my friend, I do agree with you on these latest points you make. You have every reason to be deeply proud of your grandparents, and your heritage. (Please keep in sight, though, that your grandparents were successes owing to hard, dedicated work and focus, and not to the color of their skin.) And I'm genuinely impressed with how they achieved their goals, becoming very much part of America, and the American dream (which is far from dead). 

And both our families have seen difficulties in melding into a new country and culture; my father survived the brutal and senseless carpet-bombing of his home-city in northern Germany ("senseless" because I don't understand how a beautiful cathedral – and tens of thousands of my dad's neighbors – were justifiable military targets), and the several years of horrific starvation afterward. His mother was strafed at by a low-flying British plane just for fun; his father spent years in prison after the war for the crime of commanding a ship that was defending his homeland; none of the family wanted anything to do with the gang of brutal racist ideologues who had taken over their land, and butchered their neighbors. 

I have no more patience for parasites than you do, Mouse. They leech off the hard work of your grandparents and my (maternal) grandparents. I don't care how much or how little pigmentation a parasite's skin carries; they have to contribute to society if they are able – and by "able" I give a broad definition, since we've both seen the commendable skill exhibited by our disabled (deaf, blind, wheelchair-bound, etc.) friends and colleagues. Laziness is not an excuse, nor is a shaky education. And if they are in this country illegally, they must face the consequences: deportation… but encouragement to come back legally, or face jail next time, and then deportation again. 

But this isn't the same issue as descendants of slaves associating together in civic organizations to counter the currents of oppression, denial, and racism that continue to exist in our country and society. The vast majority of these folks are not welfare-sucking fast-food-junkie mamas lining up to appear on Jerry Springer, or basketball-playing gangsters, or Nation-of-Islam fist-wavers still looking to take down The Man, or drug-dealers endangering the darkened street-corners. (The only crack addict I've ever known was a young white woman.) 

Those parasites are in all colors, all ethnicities, all heritages. But to lump all our African-American brothers and sisters in with them en masse because of color, and some bad apples… does our dignity, and our country, and our Christianity (or Judaism or Islam) a great disservice. 

I talked about this very issue with one of my black friends earlier today; he answered simply and beautifully, "It's all about the blood, man." (He's a single father whose wife died of cancer just a couple years ago; he's in the Navy and has served this country honorably for over a decade.) And indeed it is. Too much of it spilled, too much of it boiling for trivial reasons, too much of it ignored or forgotten… and plenty of it still dripping from the cross, poured forth for all people. 

"A hand up…not a handout." 

Regards,

AgingChild 

PS: Please don't let the areas where you and I differ politically, and other arenas, drive a wedge in here. I cherish your friendship, I admire your skills and dedication, and remain amazed at things you've endured and survived and moved beyond. This country – our very human species – thrives on dialog… and I appreciate that there's a patch of earth in the middle where we can meet: as dialoging humans, as friends, as fellow Christians on our knees together. 

PPS: I'm no Bible whiz, believe me! I might know a piece of a verse, but I have to look it up online through several searches and links to find the one I had in mind. I know I learn a lot in the process; I only hope it sinks in beyond this thick skull. 

This says most of where I stand on these issues. I'm sure I'll need to say it again at some point. Father Corapi points out that God placed limitations on human intelligence, but none on our stupidity. Amen.