"We think boys are rude, unsensitive animals but it is not so in all cases. Each boy has one or two sensitive spots, and if you can find out where they are located you have only to touch them and you can scorch him as with fire." - Mark Twain's Autobiography
I think it is time to rise to the defense of a boy's right to be a boy. It seems to me that the world today is not a boy's world anymore. As a boy growing up in Tennessee, I remember free and unfettered summers. I remember roaming the woods, climbing trees to my heart's content, and doing boy things.
Today the world is much more restricted. Boys have to be kept in sight at all times. Boys must be supervised. School, soccer practice, and swimming lessons are all closely supervised. Pick-up games seem to be a relic of the past. Where is the free time? Where are the lazy days when a boy could just follow his nose?
I mourn the passing of the boy's world. So much of life today including school is not geared to boys. School is much more attuned to a girl than to a boy. Girls perform better in school. The whole pace of school is more feminine than masculine. Educators are becoming concerned. Psychologists are trying desperately to find a cure for what ailes our boys, and our boys are in trouble. Just look at college and university enrollments. Just look at graduate schools. Overall our young women are doing better educationally than our young men. This does not bode well for the future.
We seem to have lost our ability to understand boys. Yesterday, this was illustrated on the Today Show. Co-anchor Savannah Guthrie on Monday interviewed a Boy Scout named Jared from Salt Lake City. Jared survived being lost in the wilderness by building a lean-to and covering himself with dirt at night. Jared's quick thinking and physicality are amazing. He is an example of all that makes a boy great.
As an interviewer, she should have known better. Savannah Guthrie is intelligent. She is a former White House reporter. She has a law degree, but this woman knows absolutely nothing about a boy. She knows nothing about the fragile heart of a boy. At the end of the interview about his ordeal Savannah asked, "Did you cry Jared?"
The Boy Scout said, "Yes." He admitted on national television that he cried. What a horrible question for a twelve-year-old boy! This is the most embarrassing thing you can ask a boy. He will not understand the question. Savannah, your question shamed him. On the other hand, this is a question very suitable for a girl. Girls are all about feelings. A Girl Scout would have understood and responded without trauma. Jared was reminded that he lives in a world not his own. In this restricted world of parents and teachers and coaches, Jared has little room to be a boy.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Traveling in Hannibal
“I have found out there ain't no surer way to find out whether you like people or hate them than to travel with them.” - Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer Abroad
A tour group from West Tennessee had booked the Planters Barn Theater yesterday. They came through the door like a breath of fresh air. They entered the theater smiling, and they left laughing. A very responsive audience, their laughter crackled in the stage lights, and it was clear they enjoyed themselves completely. I would be happy to travel with that group from Brantley Tours any day.
On the other hand, I have encountered a mystery during my time in the Hannibal tourism business. Some people on vacation are miserable. Over the years I have seen those frowning tourists looking for some reason to complain. When I met a couple on Main Street last summer, the husband immediately complained, "This is false advertising. We came here expecting great things, but there's nothing to do." I pulled out a Hannibal brochure and pointed out all the things to do, and I asked, "Did you go to the Convention & Visitors Bureau?" They had not. I asked, "Did you look through the brochures?" They had not. I inquired if they had made any plans before leaving home. They had not. This couple was standing on Main Street in America's Home Town with museums, two caves, a riverboat, the Mark Twain Himself stage show, shopping, numerous restaurants and antiquing opportunities. Sadly, they had absolutely nothing to do.
Unhappy travelers might even turn gold nuggets into dirt clods. This husband and wife were snapping at each other and complaining about everything. Walking away from a dark cloud of unhappiness, I wondered why they left home. Mr. and Mrs. Brown had traveled three hundred miles, had spent money to get here, had invested in lodging, had done lots of right things, but it was all wrong. They hoped to enjoy Missouri, but instead they found themselves in the state of Misery.
Some travelers do it all with style. Last week, a mother with teenagers in tow explained, "We are here for only three days, and I don't know if we will get to do everything. We are having so much fun. This is just great!" The five faces were all smiles. What a difference attitude makes!
Monday to Friday, I meet with tourists at the Mark Twain Museum for a Q&A session with Mark Twain Himself. This is lots of fun for me and the guests who come. I meet visitors from all over the world. One day this week I met a group of about 25 Japanese students. Just this week I have had folks from England, Germany, Australia, India, New Zealand, and Finland.
I walk down Main Street to the museum each afternoon about 2 o'clock. Again, the difference in attitude is striking. Some folks enjoy the experience of running into "Mark Twain". They laugh and take photos and interact. One day a man saw me coming and snapped, "Come on Ethel, let's go over to the other side of the street. He may want money." I was shocked. Here we are in Hannibal, Missouri, Mark Twain's boyhood home, and some do not want to interact with an actor playing Mark Twain. I receive emails saying the meeting was one of the great experiences of their vacation, others cross the street and frown.
Perhaps we should all be reminded from time to time of Helen Keller's observation,
Saturday, July 23, 2011
The Washington Charade
...a man's first duty is to his own conscience and honor; the party and country come second to that, and never first.
- Mark Twain, a Biography
I have received numerous phone calls, emails, and facebook posts since my last blog. It is satisfying to know that I have been able to open minds to the current political circus. I think it would serve us all to step back, take off our party loyalties, and do some real thinking. If you will think for yourself, the charade crumbles. When you scrape away the gilded facade and tear down the Washington stage set, you will only find a group of children playing at government.
We can always expect children to be self-centered. We can expect them to live in the moment only. We can expect them to be naive about the world. Adults, however, may be expected to sacrifice for others. We might expect adults to plan and work for the future good. We also might expect adults to have some practical experience perhaps even wisdom.
Unfortunately, in Washington over the past days we have seen a horrifying display of extreme childishness. We have seen political children. The current crop of politicians may have degrees and resumes, but they are children. The most telling accusation of all is that they show no leadership. For many reasons adults must lead. Today, these so-called leaders of the United States of America do not know what the word means.
It is true the 535 members of the senate and congress cannot all be leaders, but somewhere in the halls somebody needs to step up. President Obama is supposed to lead. He is willing to sit back, let others place proposals on the table, and then shot them down. The President is supposed to put the proposals on the table. It's his job. He controls the agenda. Where is our Presidential leadership these days?
The Speaker of the House and the President of the Senate are supposed to lead. Where is any evidence of real leadership? The party leaders are expected to step up. Where are they? They may try to act like leaders and pose for photos like leaders, but real leadership cannot be faked. Now that we face a crisis the charade is falling apart before our eyes.
Every cloud has a silver lining. The silver lining may be the opportunity to see our politicians for what they really are. Perhaps we need to select our leaders more carefully. Maybe choosing adults with a little wisdom could be helpful.
In the final analysis it all boils down to this--we have a government filled with children. They may be forty, fifty, sixty, or eighty years old, but they are children. Where are the adults? Where are the men and women we need in 2011? Our future may depend on finding them.
- Mark Twain, a Biography
I have received numerous phone calls, emails, and facebook posts since my last blog. It is satisfying to know that I have been able to open minds to the current political circus. I think it would serve us all to step back, take off our party loyalties, and do some real thinking. If you will think for yourself, the charade crumbles. When you scrape away the gilded facade and tear down the Washington stage set, you will only find a group of children playing at government.
We can always expect children to be self-centered. We can expect them to live in the moment only. We can expect them to be naive about the world. Adults, however, may be expected to sacrifice for others. We might expect adults to plan and work for the future good. We also might expect adults to have some practical experience perhaps even wisdom.
Unfortunately, in Washington over the past days we have seen a horrifying display of extreme childishness. We have seen political children. The current crop of politicians may have degrees and resumes, but they are children. The most telling accusation of all is that they show no leadership. For many reasons adults must lead. Today, these so-called leaders of the United States of America do not know what the word means.
It is true the 535 members of the senate and congress cannot all be leaders, but somewhere in the halls somebody needs to step up. President Obama is supposed to lead. He is willing to sit back, let others place proposals on the table, and then shot them down. The President is supposed to put the proposals on the table. It's his job. He controls the agenda. Where is our Presidential leadership these days?
The Speaker of the House and the President of the Senate are supposed to lead. Where is any evidence of real leadership? The party leaders are expected to step up. Where are they? They may try to act like leaders and pose for photos like leaders, but real leadership cannot be faked. Now that we face a crisis the charade is falling apart before our eyes.
Every cloud has a silver lining. The silver lining may be the opportunity to see our politicians for what they really are. Perhaps we need to select our leaders more carefully. Maybe choosing adults with a little wisdom could be helpful.
In the final analysis it all boils down to this--we have a government filled with children. They may be forty, fifty, sixty, or eighty years old, but they are children. Where are the adults? Where are the men and women we need in 2011? Our future may depend on finding them.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Immaturity in Washington
"Fleas can be taught nearly anything that a Congressman can." - Mark Twain, What Is Man?
"...the smallest minds and the selfishest souls and the cowardliest hearts that God makes."
- Mark Twain, Letter fragment, 1891
Over the past weeks I have watched Washington with great interest. I have always been a fan of politics and history. Since the age of nine, I have been a political animal. I love debate and the exchange of ideas. I love reading about politicians who move beyond politics to statesmanship. My heroes are those men and women who were willing to risk everything for the country. President Kennedy's book Profiles in Courage has many examples.
With this background the circus we see in Washington in the summer of 2011 is sickening. I have struggled to make sense of the circus acts we see each day. And make no mistake it is a three ring circus. As soon as the President, a senator, or a congress person enters the ring, they start their act. They are playing to the crowd and looking for applause. Everybody tries to outdo the last act. It has been a shameless, embarrassing display of all that's wrong in 2011.
Mark Twain once said, "Get your facts straight; then you may distort them as much as you please." This summer no one bothers with facts. No one has his or her facts straight. I watch video of the proceedings in complete amazement as I hear lie after lie, distortion after distortion, misrepresentation after misrepresentation. And our so-called leaders do it without embarrassment.
I am sick of the whole group. I am absolutely disgusted with both Democrats and Republicans. Just this week I finally realized what bothered me so much about the whole mess--our political leaders are immature brats. They act just like my high school students used to act in the cafeteria before a food fight. When they are fourteen and ready to throw a pad of butter at another student, one can understand. When they are forty and ready to risk the economy of the world to score political points, we cannot and must not forgive.
I have seen mature fourteen-year-old students. I have seen fifty-year-old children. Our nation's capital is filled with immature men and women posing as leaders. Many of them are privileged brats who have had all the advantages, attended the best schools, were swept up into a brilliant career, and ended their rise to fame in Washington. They clean up great and look good on camera, but they are whining, irresponsible, selfish children. It is hard to find an adult among them.
From the President to the Senate to the House we are in trouble. In the summer of 2011 the inmates are truly running the asylum.
"...the smallest minds and the selfishest souls and the cowardliest hearts that God makes."
- Mark Twain, Letter fragment, 1891
Over the past weeks I have watched Washington with great interest. I have always been a fan of politics and history. Since the age of nine, I have been a political animal. I love debate and the exchange of ideas. I love reading about politicians who move beyond politics to statesmanship. My heroes are those men and women who were willing to risk everything for the country. President Kennedy's book Profiles in Courage has many examples.
With this background the circus we see in Washington in the summer of 2011 is sickening. I have struggled to make sense of the circus acts we see each day. And make no mistake it is a three ring circus. As soon as the President, a senator, or a congress person enters the ring, they start their act. They are playing to the crowd and looking for applause. Everybody tries to outdo the last act. It has been a shameless, embarrassing display of all that's wrong in 2011.
Mark Twain once said, "Get your facts straight; then you may distort them as much as you please." This summer no one bothers with facts. No one has his or her facts straight. I watch video of the proceedings in complete amazement as I hear lie after lie, distortion after distortion, misrepresentation after misrepresentation. And our so-called leaders do it without embarrassment.
I am sick of the whole group. I am absolutely disgusted with both Democrats and Republicans. Just this week I finally realized what bothered me so much about the whole mess--our political leaders are immature brats. They act just like my high school students used to act in the cafeteria before a food fight. When they are fourteen and ready to throw a pad of butter at another student, one can understand. When they are forty and ready to risk the economy of the world to score political points, we cannot and must not forgive.
I have seen mature fourteen-year-old students. I have seen fifty-year-old children. Our nation's capital is filled with immature men and women posing as leaders. Many of them are privileged brats who have had all the advantages, attended the best schools, were swept up into a brilliant career, and ended their rise to fame in Washington. They clean up great and look good on camera, but they are whining, irresponsible, selfish children. It is hard to find an adult among them.
From the President to the Senate to the House we are in trouble. In the summer of 2011 the inmates are truly running the asylum.
Monday, July 4, 2011
A Better Man
"All I care to know is that a man is a human being---that is enough for me; he can't be any worse. I can get right down and grovel with him." -Mark Twain's Notebook
Mr. Twain, that's alright for men, but what about women? Are women human beings or another species altogether? This has been debated by men for thousands of years. It all started when when Eve came around that boulder with her new hat and Adam said, "You are absolutely beautiful, but who in the world are you?"
Men are always a little puzzled by women. Sometimes they are a lot puzzled. In the movie As Good As It Gets, Jack Nicholson, who plays a writer, is just leaving the publisher. The young female receptionist asks Nicholson a question.
Receptionist:
“How do you write women so well?”
Nicholson:
“I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability.”
Based on my last blog about manners, a friend suggested that I am a better man than my wife. I am. I always have been and always will be. In this one area I excel. I am a better man than Patricia. In all other areas I retire from the field.
For example, woman are much better at apologies. Men always hem and haw and look ridiculous. Women just come right out and say, "I am so sorry I hit you with that brick. I was mistaken. You looked like a terrorist at the time, and you scared me. You shouldn't scare people. Now that I see you are harmless and a little pitiful looking, I regret my rashness. You must forgive me and come over for fried chicken on Sunday evening." What can the poor man say?
Like all men, I grovel with you.
Mr. Twain, that's alright for men, but what about women? Are women human beings or another species altogether? This has been debated by men for thousands of years. It all started when when Eve came around that boulder with her new hat and Adam said, "You are absolutely beautiful, but who in the world are you?"
Men are always a little puzzled by women. Sometimes they are a lot puzzled. In the movie As Good As It Gets, Jack Nicholson, who plays a writer, is just leaving the publisher. The young female receptionist asks Nicholson a question.
Receptionist:
“How do you write women so well?”
Nicholson:
“I think of a man, and I take away reason and accountability.”
Based on my last blog about manners, a friend suggested that I am a better man than my wife. I am. I always have been and always will be. In this one area I excel. I am a better man than Patricia. In all other areas I retire from the field.
For example, woman are much better at apologies. Men always hem and haw and look ridiculous. Women just come right out and say, "I am so sorry I hit you with that brick. I was mistaken. You looked like a terrorist at the time, and you scared me. You shouldn't scare people. Now that I see you are harmless and a little pitiful looking, I regret my rashness. You must forgive me and come over for fried chicken on Sunday evening." What can the poor man say?
Like all men, I grovel with you.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Don't Mind My Manners
"It is a mistake that there is no bath that will cure people's manners. But drowning would help." -Mark Twain
We are enjoying National Tom Sawyer Days here on the banks of the mighty Mississippi River. Once a year the internationally famous boyhood home of Sam Clemens, aka Mark Twain, celebrates the July 4 weekend with an old-fashioned, rip-roaring festival.
The Hannibal-Cannibal Walk Run was off and running early this morning with a boom. Runners filled the streets and watchers filled the sidewalks. Over the next two days we will have frog jumping, fence painting, carnival rides, a generous portion of fair food, and, of course, the parade and fireworks on Monday. Eager citizens descend on the historic district featuring lots of attractions and very few parking spots. Every nook and cranny of downtown is filled with food carts and carnival rides. The whole front of my theater is blocked with food carts and pickup trucks.
National Tom Sawyer Days is an amazing display of human nature. Like Tom Sawyer in the book, many visitors leave their manners at home. Since many of our usual tourist crowd stay away during the weekend, our audience always changes. Yesterday as I walked into the theater getting ready for my show, someone shouted "You're the fake Mark Twain." I was shocked. Of course, I am an actor playing a part. I know and everyone knows that I am not Mark Twain, but most of my guests keep those comments to themselves. It is also the only time of the year we always have people enter the theater, ask about ticket prices, and leave in a huff. We try to make sure they understand we are not the Twain Penny Arcade.
Yesterday, one of my American flags made in China and shipped halfway across the world for display on my old theater was stolen. It is a little like stealing a Gideon Bible from a Motel 6. Stealing an American flag on Main Street in Hannibal, Missouri, is just bad manners. What is Main Street coming to? Don't worry I'm a cynic. I always keep an extra flag or two on hand during the July 4 festivities. This is not my first Tom Sawyer rodeo.
Perhaps you are thinking my manners might be in danger. Don't worry my manners are safe. When a man offended me today, I picked up a brick and hit him on the head. Not really, that was on the inside. I only hit him in my mind. On the outside I demonstrated restraint and civility. On the inside I seethed. On the outside I found a spot to cool off. It was air-conditioned. Now that I have calmed down, I can see that the brick was perhaps wrong. Perhaps, my manners are improving. I hope so.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Patriotism
"The highest form of patriotism is irreverence." --Mark Twain
As we approach the Independence Day festivities, it might be productive to think a little about patriotism. For many Americans patriotism is going to Home Depot and purchasing a flag for the front porch. For others, it is standing in Busch Stadium holding your red Cardinal's cap as you sing "Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light . . ." Others celebrate their patriotism with a parade, a picnic, or an old-fashioned fireworks display over the Mississippi River.
These are all outward displays of patriotic fervor. They are valid ways of showing allegiance to the United States, but I think it is important to note that patriotism is also about our thoughts and ideals. It is about what we individually bring to the patriotic table. It's about what is inside.
As Americans, one of the most important things we can bring to Independence Day is independence. Free people have to have to same attitude that led to our independence. American patriotism has never been to a person or a party. Americans have always loathed the adulation of Hitler's followers and the followers of other dictators. Our loyalty has never been to George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt, Ronald Reagan, or Barack Obama. We pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.
In this regard Mark Twain is right. Irreverence is the highest form of patriotism. Americans should hate political campaigns as they are currently conducted. We should demand that less attention be placed on what kind of ice cream the candidate prefers and more attention on the candidate's views and policies. We should value our humorists and comedians who make us laugh at politicians. Stupid political behavior should always be laughed into oblivion. No person in American government should be respected any more than the respect he or she has earned. Laughter makes us all equal in America.
In a government of, by, and for the people, irreverence is absolutely essential. On this July 4 holiday, let's have more good, old-fashioned American irreverence. Let's laugh at the political circus coming to town. Let's laugh at the huge political egos in Washington. Let's turn our laughter on both the Democrats and Republicans. Let's laugh next week. It protects us all.
As we approach the Independence Day festivities, it might be productive to think a little about patriotism. For many Americans patriotism is going to Home Depot and purchasing a flag for the front porch. For others, it is standing in Busch Stadium holding your red Cardinal's cap as you sing "Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light . . ." Others celebrate their patriotism with a parade, a picnic, or an old-fashioned fireworks display over the Mississippi River.
These are all outward displays of patriotic fervor. They are valid ways of showing allegiance to the United States, but I think it is important to note that patriotism is also about our thoughts and ideals. It is about what we individually bring to the patriotic table. It's about what is inside.
As Americans, one of the most important things we can bring to Independence Day is independence. Free people have to have to same attitude that led to our independence. American patriotism has never been to a person or a party. Americans have always loathed the adulation of Hitler's followers and the followers of other dictators. Our loyalty has never been to George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt, Ronald Reagan, or Barack Obama. We pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America.
In this regard Mark Twain is right. Irreverence is the highest form of patriotism. Americans should hate political campaigns as they are currently conducted. We should demand that less attention be placed on what kind of ice cream the candidate prefers and more attention on the candidate's views and policies. We should value our humorists and comedians who make us laugh at politicians. Stupid political behavior should always be laughed into oblivion. No person in American government should be respected any more than the respect he or she has earned. Laughter makes us all equal in America.
In a government of, by, and for the people, irreverence is absolutely essential. On this July 4 holiday, let's have more good, old-fashioned American irreverence. Let's laugh at the political circus coming to town. Let's laugh at the huge political egos in Washington. Let's turn our laughter on both the Democrats and Republicans. Let's laugh next week. It protects us all.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Just the Facts
"First get your facts straight; then you may distort them as much as you please." -Mark Twain
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Yesterday, I started my Mark Twain appearances at the Mark Twain Museum. I will be there through Labor Day from Monday to Friday at 2:30 pm. Each day, I say a few words, make myself available for photographs, and answer questions. This is all in character. As an actor, off-stage work is the most challenging, but it is also a lot of fun. I never know what will happen.
Last summer, a lady asked, "Could you tell me about your death Mr. Clemens?" As Mark Twain, I replied, "You tell me about your death, and I will tell you about mine." We all laughed. A man one day asked, "Where are you buried?" I replied, "I am buried and suffer under a whole world of nonsense. It is absolutely suffocating."
In the middle of one Q and A, a man raised his hand and said, "I understand you were a deserter during the Civil War." I was amazed. In Twain's own words I explained that Sam Clemens never joined the army but was a member of a local Missouri militia unit called Marion Rangers. When the unit disbanded, he went west with his brother Orion. Facts are facts and really not open to rearrangement.
This exchange took me back to Mr. Clemens statement on facts and how we play fast and loose with the facts. It seems to me that most of us today form our beliefs first, then we search for facts to support our beliefs. In politics both Democrats and Republicans seem to be on a mission to find any supporting evidence to bolster their politics. This spring a teenager informed me that to her facts are very confusing. Perhaps, facts are inconvenient for all of us.
Perhaps all of us should get our facts straight. At least we should consider the facts because sooner or later we may have to face the facts.
Last summer, a lady asked, "Could you tell me about your death Mr. Clemens?" As Mark Twain, I replied, "You tell me about your death, and I will tell you about mine." We all laughed. A man one day asked, "Where are you buried?" I replied, "I am buried and suffer under a whole world of nonsense. It is absolutely suffocating."
In the middle of one Q and A, a man raised his hand and said, "I understand you were a deserter during the Civil War." I was amazed. In Twain's own words I explained that Sam Clemens never joined the army but was a member of a local Missouri militia unit called Marion Rangers. When the unit disbanded, he went west with his brother Orion. Facts are facts and really not open to rearrangement.
This exchange took me back to Mr. Clemens statement on facts and how we play fast and loose with the facts. It seems to me that most of us today form our beliefs first, then we search for facts to support our beliefs. In politics both Democrats and Republicans seem to be on a mission to find any supporting evidence to bolster their politics. This spring a teenager informed me that to her facts are very confusing. Perhaps, facts are inconvenient for all of us.
Perhaps all of us should get our facts straight. At least we should consider the facts because sooner or later we may have to face the facts.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Waiting for Larry, the Cable Guy
I am sitting here on an early May morning waiting for cable and internet installation. I am listening to my Eagles CD and enjoying a soft breeze. This is as good as the wait gets since so much of life is waiting.
With all its speed modern life often features the wait. A line is mandatory for driver’s license renewal. Government offices are always decorated by Larry, the Bureaucrat, who has a penchant for gray or lime green décor devoid of all creature comforts. Do not sit in the license bureau chairs. It is much better to stand and take your punishment like a man or woman as the case may be.
Wednesday rolls around, and you have an appointment with the doctor at 10 a.m. In spite of your appointment Doctor Larry’s office features its own special wait. The elevator music carefully selected to soothe doesn’t. I was smart once and took my laptop. That was nice. In most cases the doctor office wait is very annoying.
Soon after your appointment time expires, you give in and reach for the magazines. You may get a little upset at the "new" trouble brewing in Egypt with all the graphic street violence until you look at the date. Don’t these people ever put a current magazine in the rack?
Finally, after many ticks of the clock and several creative interpretations of your name, you finally stumble back to the examination room relieved that your wait is over. Not so fast! This time you must sit up on the examination table with the crinkly paper and no back rest. Who invented this table? Then just to tease you, Doctor Larry, MD, comes in with “Good Morning!” and immediately is called away for a life or death crisis. You are not dying yet so you can wait.
Speaking of waiting, we can’t leave out Larry, the Fast Food Jockey. Sometimes, you don’t have time to go to a sit down restaurant. You know better, but you are desperately hungry so you yield to temptation and pull into the drive thru line. This just might be the biggest mistake of the day. Once in a fast food line, there will be no turning back. Who labeled it fast food? Just ahead of you are two pickup trucks with construction logos. Each truck picks up about fourteen orders for their hungry work crews. Finally, you reach the window only to be instructed, “Could you pull forward to the white line? You ordered something healthy so we will have to bring your order on out to your vehicle. Sorry about the wait.”
I am sitting here this fine morning developing patience. At least I think that is what I am developing. It may be something else.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Dogwood and Redbud Day
"Nature knows no indecencies; man invents them." - Mark Twain's Notebook
Yesterday was a dogwood and redbud day under a clear Missouri sky, but it was an unexpected surprise. Thunderstorms rolled in with fireworks about 3 o'clock and continued to blow through until about 8. Then the morning sky turned gray and the air felt damp and sticky. All forecasts called for partly cloudy at best, but by noon the sky was clear. This surprising day became a glorious riot of warmth and color.
For over an hour we enjoyed the solitude of the Little Lost Creek Wildlife Area and soaked it all in--the warm, earthy smells of the woods after rain, the new minted green of spring grass, the sudden appearance of several butterfly species flitting through the stand of oak trees, and the antique foundation of an old homeplace at least fifty years after demolition. I could see a fifty-year-old oak now towering up where the old kitchen used to create the smells of home. I wondered who lived there and what happened.
Yesterday was spring baked in a 90-degree oven as I sat on the levee at New Haven watching the Missouri River flow past on its way to the Mississippi River just north of St. Louis. The water reflected the blue sky. The north shore trees appeared pale green. The grass under foot was dark, vibrant green. The sun felt hot on my pale winter skin. Finally, after all we have been through for the past months, it was spring in the heartland.
As I sat on the levee bench, I imagined the exotic Mandan village that perched by the river when Meriwether Lewis and William Clark led their expedition here. Moving upriver then required the hard labor of poling and paddling long before the luxury of steamboats. I think about what they saw. I mourn what has been lost forever and celebrate what has been perserved.
I imagine Samuel Clemens coming here on a steamboat in 1861 and stepping off the landing stage at Miller's Landing. He was on his way out west to Nevada with his older brother Orion. He was leaving the dangers of Civil War Missouri and heading out into the unknown. That day he stopped here in July, he was just another passenger. Years later, Sam returned a famous man. It was his time on the river. Yesterday was mine.
Sitting there, I thought about time and how it moves like a river--never stopping, never reversing course, never completely remembered or totally forgotten. I thought about past, present, and future coming together. I thought about memory and prophecy and how quickly the river moves, and how it never stands still.
I thought about the glory of April 9 we will carry with us but never see again, but I also thought about the present. I thought a great deal about the present moment in which all things live.
Yesterday was a dogwood and redbud day under a clear Missouri sky, but it was an unexpected surprise. Thunderstorms rolled in with fireworks about 3 o'clock and continued to blow through until about 8. Then the morning sky turned gray and the air felt damp and sticky. All forecasts called for partly cloudy at best, but by noon the sky was clear. This surprising day became a glorious riot of warmth and color.
For over an hour we enjoyed the solitude of the Little Lost Creek Wildlife Area and soaked it all in--the warm, earthy smells of the woods after rain, the new minted green of spring grass, the sudden appearance of several butterfly species flitting through the stand of oak trees, and the antique foundation of an old homeplace at least fifty years after demolition. I could see a fifty-year-old oak now towering up where the old kitchen used to create the smells of home. I wondered who lived there and what happened.
Yesterday was spring baked in a 90-degree oven as I sat on the levee at New Haven watching the Missouri River flow past on its way to the Mississippi River just north of St. Louis. The water reflected the blue sky. The north shore trees appeared pale green. The grass under foot was dark, vibrant green. The sun felt hot on my pale winter skin. Finally, after all we have been through for the past months, it was spring in the heartland.
As I sat on the levee bench, I imagined the exotic Mandan village that perched by the river when Meriwether Lewis and William Clark led their expedition here. Moving upriver then required the hard labor of poling and paddling long before the luxury of steamboats. I think about what they saw. I mourn what has been lost forever and celebrate what has been perserved.
I imagine Samuel Clemens coming here on a steamboat in 1861 and stepping off the landing stage at Miller's Landing. He was on his way out west to Nevada with his older brother Orion. He was leaving the dangers of Civil War Missouri and heading out into the unknown. That day he stopped here in July, he was just another passenger. Years later, Sam returned a famous man. It was his time on the river. Yesterday was mine.
Sitting there, I thought about time and how it moves like a river--never stopping, never reversing course, never completely remembered or totally forgotten. I thought about past, present, and future coming together. I thought about memory and prophecy and how quickly the river moves, and how it never stands still.
I thought about the glory of April 9 we will carry with us but never see again, but I also thought about the present. I thought a great deal about the present moment in which all things live.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
The Game of Life
"There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy." -Mark Twain, "The Refuge of the Derelicts"
All literature is based on the premise that all human life is interesting. We keep telling the same stories over and over because they captivate us and hold us in their literary grip. News stories, novels, biographies, televison shows, and movies are all based on our love of the well-told story.
We watch the drama of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear plant in Japan with facination. The idea that power plant workers would risk their lives in an heroic struggle to tame the nuclear dragon seems mythic to us. We seem drawn to this life and death struggle like moths to the flame.
Perhaps we are drawn because it is our story too. We seem to forget from time to time that there are no winners and losers in life. It's just life. We often focus on the wrong things. We often work far too hard on trivial pursuits. We often worry too much about winning and too little about facing our own dragons.
I met a man recently who has slowly lost everything over the past two years. He has lost his job, his home, his standing in the world, and his marriage. His life over the past months has been a slow spiral down. What amazed me was the fact that he was down but not out. He looked at me and said, "It's just life."
I have experienced a little life myself. Ten years ago we lost everything. It was a terrifying experience, and I would not wish the experience on anyone else, but the good news is that we survived it. Best of all, the past ten years have been the happiest and most fulfilling years of my life.
Mark Twain knew that "a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy" is part of every life. I think deep down inside we all know it too. After all, it never was about winning and losing; it was always about playing the game well.
So go ahead and step up to the plate. What are you afraid of? Spring training is over, and it's time to play ball. Anything is possible. You could get a single, drive a home run into the right field bleachers, get hit by a 95-mile-an-hour fastball, or strike out. It's April. It's just time to play.
All literature is based on the premise that all human life is interesting. We keep telling the same stories over and over because they captivate us and hold us in their literary grip. News stories, novels, biographies, televison shows, and movies are all based on our love of the well-told story.
We watch the drama of the Fukushima Daiichi Nuclear plant in Japan with facination. The idea that power plant workers would risk their lives in an heroic struggle to tame the nuclear dragon seems mythic to us. We seem drawn to this life and death struggle like moths to the flame.
Perhaps we are drawn because it is our story too. We seem to forget from time to time that there are no winners and losers in life. It's just life. We often focus on the wrong things. We often work far too hard on trivial pursuits. We often worry too much about winning and too little about facing our own dragons.
I met a man recently who has slowly lost everything over the past two years. He has lost his job, his home, his standing in the world, and his marriage. His life over the past months has been a slow spiral down. What amazed me was the fact that he was down but not out. He looked at me and said, "It's just life."
I have experienced a little life myself. Ten years ago we lost everything. It was a terrifying experience, and I would not wish the experience on anyone else, but the good news is that we survived it. Best of all, the past ten years have been the happiest and most fulfilling years of my life.
Mark Twain knew that "a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy" is part of every life. I think deep down inside we all know it too. After all, it never was about winning and losing; it was always about playing the game well.
So go ahead and step up to the plate. What are you afraid of? Spring training is over, and it's time to play ball. Anything is possible. You could get a single, drive a home run into the right field bleachers, get hit by a 95-mile-an-hour fastball, or strike out. It's April. It's just time to play.
April Fools
| "This is the day upon which we are reminded of what we are on the other three hundred and sixty-four." - Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar |
April is the month Chaucer's pilgrims started on their medieval journey to Canterbury. Having survived the cruelty of winter, they set out for the cathedral to give thanks. This journey seemed to be a religious pilgrimage, but it was much more than that. The pilgrims also left London for a springtime romp through the greening countryside. They also got out of town for a good old holiday and a little spring foolishness. To this day, we follow their fool's trail every spring.
April is one of the best months of the year for fools. It even seems acceptable and trendy. It is officially celebrated on April first. We even toast the most creative of our 2011 fools. This week I heard about some very clever attempts to break the winter ice in more ways than one. One young man poured a little vegetable oil on his buddy's exhaust pipe. This created a billowing cloud of smoke behind his car and heart-wrenching anxiety for a few minutes. In addition, you really can't go wrong with the old trick of marbles in the hubcaps. The horrible, grinding noise sounds just like an engine ripping apart. You will have to admit that the look on your friend's face will be worth all the effort. The ultimate office foolishness requires the most irresistible cookie known to man. Oreo cookies are like respectable crack so no one can ever resist an Oreo. So replacing the white filling with toothpaste is also classic.
Why do we do it? Why do we go to such lengths for foolishness? Perhaps life just gets too serious sometimes, and we long for a little relief. Perhaps we hear far too much bad news. Maybe we are sick of it all. It is possible we long for the old days when we were free to play tricks on our friends and enjoy the tricks played on us. In any case, we seem to need April after January, February, and March.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Madness
"When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained."
- Mark Twain, Notebook, 1898
It seems to me that we will do anything to avoid change. We seem to have an innate desire for permanance. We crave stability and try desperately to find it. This explains so much. It explains the insurance industry and a host of human schemes designed to avoid inevitables. Governments try to hold back change. Police and fire departments and the military desperately attempt to keep us safe. To tell the truth, it's all madness.
In spite of our longings and desires we all know in lucid moments that nothing stays the same for very long. We can predict change with absolute certainty. It is as inevitable as the tide. It will come tomorrow and every day after. No matter how much we hope and wish, our world is changing. Tomorrow's change is hurdling toward us at the speed of light.
On Friday I watched testimony in Washington, DC, about the United States budget mess. Any sane person can predict that life in this big, amazing country is going to change. Like a large family, our country cannot continue to live large and pay small. If we are going to survive financially, we will have to discard some things we cherish. It's time to make hard decisions, but we are completely mad. Individual citizens are mad, Democats are mad, Republicans are mad, Congress is mad, and the whole country is Alice's Mad Hatter these days.
I have lived as a mad man myself. In January 2001 my family owned a very dynamic business with offices in four cities. We were working hard and expanding when change rocked our boat. The dot.com bubble popped. One stormy change after another hit us. For a while we madly fought the inevitable. We did everything to weather the storm, but in the end we had to make some horrendous decisions. We had to shut down the business and choose survival. This meant that if our boat was going to float, we had to lighten the load. We had to throw some cherished treasures overboard. We did, and we weathered the storm. In the end it would have been madness to do anything else.
I hear a lot of mad talk these days. Yesterday, I heard yelling and screaming about NPR defunding. Last week, I heard angry words about government pension reform. For a month I have been hearing furious rants over educational cuts this spring. Any change to social security or medicare or entitlements is greeted with screams of "You can't change my life! Change somebody else's life, not mine!" It's all madness.
I don't know how to painlessly lighten our finacial boat, but it will happen. We can choose to act, or we can madly wish and hope. Either way, the storm is coming. If madness keeps us from acting, we will lose everything. If we act, we just might be able to keep the boat afloat. It's the sane thing to do, but unfortunately, I have little faith in sanity these days.
- Mark Twain, Notebook, 1898
It seems to me that we will do anything to avoid change. We seem to have an innate desire for permanance. We crave stability and try desperately to find it. This explains so much. It explains the insurance industry and a host of human schemes designed to avoid inevitables. Governments try to hold back change. Police and fire departments and the military desperately attempt to keep us safe. To tell the truth, it's all madness.
In spite of our longings and desires we all know in lucid moments that nothing stays the same for very long. We can predict change with absolute certainty. It is as inevitable as the tide. It will come tomorrow and every day after. No matter how much we hope and wish, our world is changing. Tomorrow's change is hurdling toward us at the speed of light.
On Friday I watched testimony in Washington, DC, about the United States budget mess. Any sane person can predict that life in this big, amazing country is going to change. Like a large family, our country cannot continue to live large and pay small. If we are going to survive financially, we will have to discard some things we cherish. It's time to make hard decisions, but we are completely mad. Individual citizens are mad, Democats are mad, Republicans are mad, Congress is mad, and the whole country is Alice's Mad Hatter these days.
I have lived as a mad man myself. In January 2001 my family owned a very dynamic business with offices in four cities. We were working hard and expanding when change rocked our boat. The dot.com bubble popped. One stormy change after another hit us. For a while we madly fought the inevitable. We did everything to weather the storm, but in the end we had to make some horrendous decisions. We had to shut down the business and choose survival. This meant that if our boat was going to float, we had to lighten the load. We had to throw some cherished treasures overboard. We did, and we weathered the storm. In the end it would have been madness to do anything else.
I hear a lot of mad talk these days. Yesterday, I heard yelling and screaming about NPR defunding. Last week, I heard angry words about government pension reform. For a month I have been hearing furious rants over educational cuts this spring. Any change to social security or medicare or entitlements is greeted with screams of "You can't change my life! Change somebody else's life, not mine!" It's all madness.
I don't know how to painlessly lighten our finacial boat, but it will happen. We can choose to act, or we can madly wish and hope. Either way, the storm is coming. If madness keeps us from acting, we will lose everything. If we act, we just might be able to keep the boat afloat. It's the sane thing to do, but unfortunately, I have little faith in sanity these days.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Pay Me Now or Pay Me Later
"Every time you stop a school, you will have to build a jail. What you gain at one end you lose at the other. It's like feeding a dog on his own tail. It won't fatten the dog."
- Mark Twain Speech, Nov. 23, 1900
21st century humans value knowledge but pay little attention to wisdom. We amass more facts each day than we can possibly analyze. We are literally drowning in data, and we are making very few good decisions. We seem to have lost our way.
We build nuclear plants to withstand 7.0 earthquakes and struggle to deal with a 9.0 quake. We fight terrorism in Afghanistan thousands of miles away and seem to pay no attention whatsoever to terrorism on our Mexican border. We have a looming tsunami of underfunded government pensions heading our way, and are doing little to address it. We have an unsustainable social security system and have repeatedly failed to modify it. We face unaddressed challenges to our economic and monetary systems. In most areas of life in 2011 Americans are failing to prepare for the long haul.
For example, with trouble in the Middle East and the world's continuing economic woes and the expanding disaster in Japan, the Congress of the United States is preparing to have hearings on the National Football League. What a misuse of time and energy! I don't know about you, but this makes me angry. We have serious issues desperately begging for attention while Congress fiddles with football. I pray daily for a little sanity.
A little wisdom would be great also.
- Mark Twain Speech, Nov. 23, 1900
21st century humans value knowledge but pay little attention to wisdom. We amass more facts each day than we can possibly analyze. We are literally drowning in data, and we are making very few good decisions. We seem to have lost our way.
We build nuclear plants to withstand 7.0 earthquakes and struggle to deal with a 9.0 quake. We fight terrorism in Afghanistan thousands of miles away and seem to pay no attention whatsoever to terrorism on our Mexican border. We have a looming tsunami of underfunded government pensions heading our way, and are doing little to address it. We have an unsustainable social security system and have repeatedly failed to modify it. We face unaddressed challenges to our economic and monetary systems. In most areas of life in 2011 Americans are failing to prepare for the long haul.
For example, with trouble in the Middle East and the world's continuing economic woes and the expanding disaster in Japan, the Congress of the United States is preparing to have hearings on the National Football League. What a misuse of time and energy! I don't know about you, but this makes me angry. We have serious issues desperately begging for attention while Congress fiddles with football. I pray daily for a little sanity.
A little wisdom would be great also.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
School Boards and Stupidity
"In the first place God made idiots. This was for practice. Then he made School Boards."
-Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar
I frequently hear concerns expressed about American education. I hear parents agonizing about the toxic environment students encounter at school. I hear young people concerned about the quality of the education they are receiving. I hear pundits offering opinions from the practical to the ridiculous.
I hear a lots of talk and almost no intelligent action. As a former educator, I know what works. Real education takes place when someone is prepared to learn and someone is prepared to teach. It sounds simple. It really works, but we have added layer on layer of nonsense. These layers are now crushing the life out of the classroom.
It is critical to focus on the classroom where students and teachers make education happen. Instead, we have focused on buildings and technology and educational initiatives. We have too many administrators and not enough good teachers. We spend too much money on non-essentials and not enough on essentials. Why? Decision-makers are not making good decisions.
I love history and the little nuggets we can mine from history. Military science tells is that soldiers must have officers to lead them. Inexperienced soldiers do, but history shows us that by the time the Army of Northern Virginia got to Gettysburg, they did not need officers. They knew what was at stake. These battle-hardened men knew combat first hand. They knew what needed to be done and would have done it with or without officers. I believe this is true of good, veteran teachers.
Dedicated, experienced teachers do not need administrators above the principal level. For most teachers, school boards and superintendents and supervisors contribute nothing to the educational process. In many ways they interfere and block quality instruction with paperwork and red tape. In so many ways, the administration of American education is absolute idiocy.
This is true at the macro and micro levels. Last year a western Illinois school district hired about 50 teachers with federal stimulus money. This spring they are firing about 60 teachers. This is nothing more than short-term thinking in a long-term business. Also, at the micro level I see so much absolute stupidity. Last Friday, the Ladue District in St. Louis interrupted class for five teachers and asked them to step out into the hall. These teachers were then told they did not have a job for 2011-2012. This is an amazing display of administrative incompetence.
In fact, this is inexcusable behavior. Classes were disrupted. Teachers were traumatized in the middle of the day. No one was counseled or allowed to expressed concerns. The superintendent later said, "In hindsight perhaps it should have been handled differently." No kidding. In fact, this is a great example of stupidity.
I have a suggestion: Why not just fire the superintendent and district administrators? Why don't we fire the bottom ten per cent of teachers we know to be incompetent? Why don't we focus all our attention on essentials? Why not make a few intelligent decisions for a change?
Oh, for a moment I forgot I was writing about intelligence and school boards in the same sentence. Sorry! Again, Mark Twain has it right.
-Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar
I frequently hear concerns expressed about American education. I hear parents agonizing about the toxic environment students encounter at school. I hear young people concerned about the quality of the education they are receiving. I hear pundits offering opinions from the practical to the ridiculous.
I hear a lots of talk and almost no intelligent action. As a former educator, I know what works. Real education takes place when someone is prepared to learn and someone is prepared to teach. It sounds simple. It really works, but we have added layer on layer of nonsense. These layers are now crushing the life out of the classroom.
It is critical to focus on the classroom where students and teachers make education happen. Instead, we have focused on buildings and technology and educational initiatives. We have too many administrators and not enough good teachers. We spend too much money on non-essentials and not enough on essentials. Why? Decision-makers are not making good decisions.
I love history and the little nuggets we can mine from history. Military science tells is that soldiers must have officers to lead them. Inexperienced soldiers do, but history shows us that by the time the Army of Northern Virginia got to Gettysburg, they did not need officers. They knew what was at stake. These battle-hardened men knew combat first hand. They knew what needed to be done and would have done it with or without officers. I believe this is true of good, veteran teachers.
Dedicated, experienced teachers do not need administrators above the principal level. For most teachers, school boards and superintendents and supervisors contribute nothing to the educational process. In many ways they interfere and block quality instruction with paperwork and red tape. In so many ways, the administration of American education is absolute idiocy.
This is true at the macro and micro levels. Last year a western Illinois school district hired about 50 teachers with federal stimulus money. This spring they are firing about 60 teachers. This is nothing more than short-term thinking in a long-term business. Also, at the micro level I see so much absolute stupidity. Last Friday, the Ladue District in St. Louis interrupted class for five teachers and asked them to step out into the hall. These teachers were then told they did not have a job for 2011-2012. This is an amazing display of administrative incompetence.
In fact, this is inexcusable behavior. Classes were disrupted. Teachers were traumatized in the middle of the day. No one was counseled or allowed to expressed concerns. The superintendent later said, "In hindsight perhaps it should have been handled differently." No kidding. In fact, this is a great example of stupidity.
I have a suggestion: Why not just fire the superintendent and district administrators? Why don't we fire the bottom ten per cent of teachers we know to be incompetent? Why don't we focus all our attention on essentials? Why not make a few intelligent decisions for a change?
Oh, for a moment I forgot I was writing about intelligence and school boards in the same sentence. Sorry! Again, Mark Twain has it right.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Praying at the Basilica
"So much blood has been shed by the Church because of an omission from the Gospel: 'Ye shall be indifferent as to what your neighbor's religion is.' Not merely tolerant of it, but indifferent to it. Divinity is claimed for many religions; but no religion is great enough or divine enough to add that new law to its code." - Mark Twain, a Biography
This place is a visual prayer. I am sitting today in the middle of a lavish outpouring of worship and praise. The St. Louis Basilica has no paint. Surfaces are all marble and ceramic tile. Ceramic art covers the vaulted ceilings and walls. Light plays with all the facets. Small lights flicker from candles and beams of light cover the soaring spaces. Small boxes narrow my focus and huge Biblical scenes come to life emerging out of small tiles.
We just walked through this enormous space and into a small chapel. We have been sitting quietly for several minutes. I am writing while a priest is singing in the other small chapel. The congregation sounds like a choir in this man-made cavern. I hear human voices and group responses, but I cannot decipher the words. Voices echo through the vault.
Speaking of echoes, I scanned the radio in my van last week looking for a safe spot on the digital dial. I skipped past two musical formats and landed on religious venom. Hatred spewed from the speakers. I moved on to another religious broadcast. More venom surged out like a verbal tsunami. Both broadcasts were verbally attacking other faiths. Both broadcasts claimed to be the one true faith. In both cases I quickly switched to a new station.
Religious venom, however, is not limited to the radio. Lance Cpl. Matthew A. Snyder was killed while serving in Iraq. Snyder’s family wanted to honor him in the best way they could with a respectful funeral. Far from respectful, church members from the Westboro Baptist Church in Topeka, Kansas, flew all the way to Maryland to protest at the funeral. Fred Phelps, founder of the church, picketed near the Snyder funeral with his two daughters and four grandchildren. They carried signs that read THANK GOD FOR DEAD SOLDIERS, SEMPER FI FAGS, and FAG TROOPS. Members of Westboro Baptist Church didn't know anything about Snyder. The church simply used his funeral as a vehicle to spread their message that God is punishing the United States for tolerating homosexuality.
How can religious people who claim to worship a caring God behave so badly? Do they not see the disconnect? Do they not understand how ridiculous they seem? The poet Robert Burns wrote “Oh would some power the gift to give us, To see ourselves as others see us! It would from many a blunder free us, And foolish notion.”
Religious people have always been dangerous, but disciples of various faiths are not dangerous because they are people of faith. They are not dangerous because they join a church, synagogue, mosque, or temple. They are dangerous because they “know with absolute certainty” that they are right.
All of us have our opinions and beliefs. Most of us think we know right and wrong. Religious zealots know. It is no accident that the 911 terrorists “knew” the will of Allah with certainty. They died in the Twin Towers to verify it.
The truly faithful believe, and belief is just a prayer until it comes true. The truly faithful honor the faith of others. They wait for God instead of being His avenger. If I truly believe, my God is powerful enough to take care of Himself.
As I sit here in this beautiful Basilica, I also pray. This is not my church or my faith represented here, but I can enjoy and respect these prayers in art. I can worship here because others believed enough to create a house of prayer here. This is what I believe this Sunday morning in St. Louis.
I honor those who created this Basilica not because they were right or wrong. I honor them this morning because their faith created this special place. I pray for all people of faith this morning. I pray that all of us can see ourselves as the rest of the world sees us.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Wants and Needs
Early this morning as I walked, my thoughts were sailing thousands of miles away. My empathy reached out across time and space to human beings now contending with forces beyond their control. Violent shaking of tectonic plates, giant whirlpools, and 20 foot walls of water are unwanted intrusions into human life. It is beautiful here on this morning in the heartland, but I am under no illusions.
Spring is beginning to show new green shoots in the flower beds. Dormant winter grass is greening in the warmth of the sun. Trees stand ready to leaf in the next warm hours. Geese are migrating in huge V's moving north up the Mississippi. When I listen closely, I hear a rhythmic beat. It's just the drumbeat of life on this March Missouri morning, but I am moving out to a panoramic view today.
A catastrophic event thousands of miles away is a strong tap on the shoulder. When I turn, I come face to face with my own life. When I see the hopes and dreams of lifetimes being swept away like toys in a gutter, I have to consider it. What do I want from this journey we call life? What do I really, truly need?
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Sagebrush as a Vegetable
"Sagebrush is a very fair fuel, but as a vegetable it is a distinguished failure. Nothing can abide the taste of it but the jackass and his illegitimate child the mule." -Mark Twain, Roughing It
I go to restaurants for the food. I know I should pay more attention to the ambiance and interior design, but I don't. I go for the food, and, fortunately, most restaurants do not serve sagebrush. I have never ordered sagebrush even as a specialty item, but I have seen some strange salads in my day.
One day Patricia and I stopped at a restaurant overlooking the Mississippi. It was a great location, and we were enjoying the atmosphere very much until the salad appeared. I have never seen anything quite like it. The whole salad was smothered in a half-inch-thick, white ranch dressing. I discovered quickly that the dressing was just a coverup. Underneath was brown lettuce and aged salad ingredients. Sagebrush would have been better. I declined my salad, but the couple and their two children at an adjoining table seemed to relish theirs. To each his own I always say. Perhaps they were foreigners.
Last night, we made reservations at a nice restaurant. The food was good, and the atmosphere was great, but our poor waitress was hopeless. With few exceptions my restaurant complaints are not about food but about service. Last night we had the poster child. She tried so very hard. She was enthusiastic, and she was energetic. She got our orders wrong twice. She came back to interrupt our conversation many times in a loud voice, "Is everything OK? I will have the next course out shortly." She never waited for the right moment; she just blurted in. After a while, she moved from irritating to annoying. She remained annoying the rest of the evening.
On the plus side, she did not spill anything on me. This is always a plus. I wish I could say otherwise, but food and drink seem to sail my way. The worst was on a road trip several years ago. We had enjoyed a nice meal with excellent service. The well-known national chain was filled with customers. In fact, the wait staff was working very hard--too hard perhaps. We were getting ready to leave when a young woman bussing tables walked by with a leaning Tower of Pisa stack of twenty plates. The tower leaned and then fell in my direction. I could see it fall in slow motion. My whole restaurant life flashed before my eyes. Trapped in the booth, there was no escape. Plates and potatoes and steak sauce cascaded down onto my hair, my shirt, and down to my shoes. Even my mustache was covered in gravy, bits of salad, potatoe peelings, and sagebrush. I dug myself out of the debri and staggered to the Men's Room for cleanup.
Cleanup--now that's laugh. I discarded the big pieces and removed the worst offenders, but there was no cleaning up. I also had a five hour drive ahead. So I stumbled back to the table a walking buffet. The manager was there apologizing profusely. He offered us all dessert. I was not in the mood for more sagebrush. He offered to get my clothes cleaned. I declined since I lived five hours away.
Shockingly, the manager did not offer to comp our meal. We were all shocked; I am still shocked to this day. So wrapped in gravy and sauce, I paid my bill and left. To this day, I cannot go back to that restaurant chain. I was not a satisfied customer. I will never be a customer again. I value my safety too much.
I understand there is a national search for the next great restaurant idea. Perhaps I should suggest a sagebrush restaurant. It could be western themed. I can see it now--sagebrush salad, sagebrush burgers, sagebrush stirfry, and sagebrush desserts. It's a great, new idea. No one else is doing it, and it could get a lot of press. I will also suggest that the "cowboys and cowgirls" serving the sagebrush be thoroughly trained. Maybe even sagebrush would be delicious with the right service.
I go to restaurants for the food. I know I should pay more attention to the ambiance and interior design, but I don't. I go for the food, and, fortunately, most restaurants do not serve sagebrush. I have never ordered sagebrush even as a specialty item, but I have seen some strange salads in my day.
One day Patricia and I stopped at a restaurant overlooking the Mississippi. It was a great location, and we were enjoying the atmosphere very much until the salad appeared. I have never seen anything quite like it. The whole salad was smothered in a half-inch-thick, white ranch dressing. I discovered quickly that the dressing was just a coverup. Underneath was brown lettuce and aged salad ingredients. Sagebrush would have been better. I declined my salad, but the couple and their two children at an adjoining table seemed to relish theirs. To each his own I always say. Perhaps they were foreigners.
Last night, we made reservations at a nice restaurant. The food was good, and the atmosphere was great, but our poor waitress was hopeless. With few exceptions my restaurant complaints are not about food but about service. Last night we had the poster child. She tried so very hard. She was enthusiastic, and she was energetic. She got our orders wrong twice. She came back to interrupt our conversation many times in a loud voice, "Is everything OK? I will have the next course out shortly." She never waited for the right moment; she just blurted in. After a while, she moved from irritating to annoying. She remained annoying the rest of the evening.
On the plus side, she did not spill anything on me. This is always a plus. I wish I could say otherwise, but food and drink seem to sail my way. The worst was on a road trip several years ago. We had enjoyed a nice meal with excellent service. The well-known national chain was filled with customers. In fact, the wait staff was working very hard--too hard perhaps. We were getting ready to leave when a young woman bussing tables walked by with a leaning Tower of Pisa stack of twenty plates. The tower leaned and then fell in my direction. I could see it fall in slow motion. My whole restaurant life flashed before my eyes. Trapped in the booth, there was no escape. Plates and potatoes and steak sauce cascaded down onto my hair, my shirt, and down to my shoes. Even my mustache was covered in gravy, bits of salad, potatoe peelings, and sagebrush. I dug myself out of the debri and staggered to the Men's Room for cleanup.
Cleanup--now that's laugh. I discarded the big pieces and removed the worst offenders, but there was no cleaning up. I also had a five hour drive ahead. So I stumbled back to the table a walking buffet. The manager was there apologizing profusely. He offered us all dessert. I was not in the mood for more sagebrush. He offered to get my clothes cleaned. I declined since I lived five hours away.
Shockingly, the manager did not offer to comp our meal. We were all shocked; I am still shocked to this day. So wrapped in gravy and sauce, I paid my bill and left. To this day, I cannot go back to that restaurant chain. I was not a satisfied customer. I will never be a customer again. I value my safety too much.
I understand there is a national search for the next great restaurant idea. Perhaps I should suggest a sagebrush restaurant. It could be western themed. I can see it now--sagebrush salad, sagebrush burgers, sagebrush stirfry, and sagebrush desserts. It's a great, new idea. No one else is doing it, and it could get a lot of press. I will also suggest that the "cowboys and cowgirls" serving the sagebrush be thoroughly trained. Maybe even sagebrush would be delicious with the right service.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Gratitude
"If you pick up a starving dog and make him prosperous, he will not bite you. This is the principal difference between a dog and a man." - Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson
A few years ago I had a friend who took great delight in the harrassment of waiters in nice restaurants. I don't know why. I don't know when the obsession started. I only know that going to a restaurant with this woman was an uncomfortable event.
When the waiter brought the menus, the first assault was launched with a barrage of questions. How long have you been in business? Do you change the menu often? Do you use frozen or fresh? After a short interrogation, the waiter was allowed to retreat. In her defense the woman always harrassed with a big smile.
Ordering was another opportunity. Questions would fly about how dishes were prepared, details of ingredients, various options and alterations, etc. The poor waiter would finally leave with our orders but also struggle with a heavy load of menu alterations. The order pad would sometimes look like a legal brief. Sadly, the waiter could not hope to comply with all the little amendments that had been made. Often, this smiling, sadistic woman would call the overwhelmed waiter back for one last modification. Woe be to the new or unprepared waiter.
When the order was delivered, this normally civilized woman would complain about the mistakes, fuss about the seasonings, change orders, and send dishes back. It was a classic coup de grace delivered with another smile. When it was all over, the waiter and the rest of us at the table were exhausted, but she was enjoying herself immensely. In her defense, this restaurant terrorist always left a good tip to cover the entertainment, and she always left with a smile.
The term coup de grace means “stroke of grace” referring originally to a merciful stroke putting a fatally wounded person out of his misery. How kind and thoughtful? It would have been such a merciful thing to do for the waiter, but the woman never put one out of his misery.
The average human being is amazingly complex. We are rarely grateful even when we say we are. We love to grouse and complain. We love to point out flaws. Most of us love to stir things up. Most human beings are not as obvious than the restaurant bully, but I think we are rarely grateful.
My dog never complains about the menu. He is always ready for a walk. He likes my company even when I am not very good at it. Jack would never bite me, but humans have. They can be vicious, and I have the scars to prove it.
Perhaps we should create some new signs warning "Beware: Vicious Human" and sell them. Perhaps there is a market. I know I would rather face a vicious dog any day. How about you?
A few years ago I had a friend who took great delight in the harrassment of waiters in nice restaurants. I don't know why. I don't know when the obsession started. I only know that going to a restaurant with this woman was an uncomfortable event.
When the waiter brought the menus, the first assault was launched with a barrage of questions. How long have you been in business? Do you change the menu often? Do you use frozen or fresh? After a short interrogation, the waiter was allowed to retreat. In her defense the woman always harrassed with a big smile.
Ordering was another opportunity. Questions would fly about how dishes were prepared, details of ingredients, various options and alterations, etc. The poor waiter would finally leave with our orders but also struggle with a heavy load of menu alterations. The order pad would sometimes look like a legal brief. Sadly, the waiter could not hope to comply with all the little amendments that had been made. Often, this smiling, sadistic woman would call the overwhelmed waiter back for one last modification. Woe be to the new or unprepared waiter.
When the order was delivered, this normally civilized woman would complain about the mistakes, fuss about the seasonings, change orders, and send dishes back. It was a classic coup de grace delivered with another smile. When it was all over, the waiter and the rest of us at the table were exhausted, but she was enjoying herself immensely. In her defense, this restaurant terrorist always left a good tip to cover the entertainment, and she always left with a smile.
The term coup de grace means “stroke of grace” referring originally to a merciful stroke putting a fatally wounded person out of his misery. How kind and thoughtful? It would have been such a merciful thing to do for the waiter, but the woman never put one out of his misery.
The average human being is amazingly complex. We are rarely grateful even when we say we are. We love to grouse and complain. We love to point out flaws. Most of us love to stir things up. Most human beings are not as obvious than the restaurant bully, but I think we are rarely grateful.
My dog never complains about the menu. He is always ready for a walk. He likes my company even when I am not very good at it. Jack would never bite me, but humans have. They can be vicious, and I have the scars to prove it.
Perhaps we should create some new signs warning "Beware: Vicious Human" and sell them. Perhaps there is a market. I know I would rather face a vicious dog any day. How about you?
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Flotsam and Jetsam
"We recognize that there are no trivial occurrences in life if we get the right focus on them."
- Mark Twain's Autobiography
The Sunday morning air was crisp in St. Louis as the sun peeked through white clouds. The light blue sky played hide and seek with the clouds as I walked the dog. Today we had the sidewalks all to ourselves and our own thoughts. Jack's dog thoughts were about tantalizing odors, startling sounds, and the temptingly quick movements of a squirrel.
As I walk, I think about the week to come. Jack never does. He keeps his nose in the here and now. I wonder who has it right?
Right away, I find Mardi Gras beads left behind and think about the St. Louis Mardi Gras celebration. I hear it is second only to New Orleans. I find lots of evidence the revelers were here. That was Saturday night; this is Sunday morning. What a difference a few hours make.
My thoughts leap to the past and think about beautiful old French St. Louis laid out along the Mississippi River. Quaint and very European with pleasing balconies and black iron work, this town was La France mid-America. I sadly recall that it all was ripped away by a raging, unstoppable firestorm in 1848. I think "What a shame!" I miss what was lost.
My attention is drawn back to more beads lying in the grass, a crushed McDonald's cup, and four Bud Lights. I puzzle out three bottles and one can lying together. Perhaps, another story lurks in that grouping.
The flotsam and jetsam of life teased me this morning. It was everywhere I looked. I also found some lagan and derelict wrecks as we walked through the shop and restaurant area. One young man looked absolutey unseaworthy. I think he better stay home.
I thought about all the things we leave behind throughout life. Some are just old paper cups, and some are pure gold. Some are just cheap plastic beads, and some works of art, but I have to agree with my friend Sam Clemens that "there are no trivial occurences in life."
Sometimes on walks, I think too much. Jack never does. He lives in the moment. I jump back and forth from the present to the past and on to the future. That's exactly why I walk. Jack, on the other hand, simply walks on the off chance he will meet a squirrel. Both reasons may be valid. I think so.
We will try again tomorrow and see if we can find anything trivial.
- Mark Twain's Autobiography
The Sunday morning air was crisp in St. Louis as the sun peeked through white clouds. The light blue sky played hide and seek with the clouds as I walked the dog. Today we had the sidewalks all to ourselves and our own thoughts. Jack's dog thoughts were about tantalizing odors, startling sounds, and the temptingly quick movements of a squirrel.
As I walk, I think about the week to come. Jack never does. He keeps his nose in the here and now. I wonder who has it right?
Right away, I find Mardi Gras beads left behind and think about the St. Louis Mardi Gras celebration. I hear it is second only to New Orleans. I find lots of evidence the revelers were here. That was Saturday night; this is Sunday morning. What a difference a few hours make.
My thoughts leap to the past and think about beautiful old French St. Louis laid out along the Mississippi River. Quaint and very European with pleasing balconies and black iron work, this town was La France mid-America. I sadly recall that it all was ripped away by a raging, unstoppable firestorm in 1848. I think "What a shame!" I miss what was lost.
My attention is drawn back to more beads lying in the grass, a crushed McDonald's cup, and four Bud Lights. I puzzle out three bottles and one can lying together. Perhaps, another story lurks in that grouping.
The flotsam and jetsam of life teased me this morning. It was everywhere I looked. I also found some lagan and derelict wrecks as we walked through the shop and restaurant area. One young man looked absolutey unseaworthy. I think he better stay home.
I thought about all the things we leave behind throughout life. Some are just old paper cups, and some are pure gold. Some are just cheap plastic beads, and some works of art, but I have to agree with my friend Sam Clemens that "there are no trivial occurences in life."
Sometimes on walks, I think too much. Jack never does. He lives in the moment. I jump back and forth from the present to the past and on to the future. That's exactly why I walk. Jack, on the other hand, simply walks on the off chance he will meet a squirrel. Both reasons may be valid. I think so.
We will try again tomorrow and see if we can find anything trivial.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
People Watching
A very good friend gave us two $140 tickets to the St. Louis Blues game last night. They were a birthday present. Of course, I have already been celebrating for some time. I do a Birth Month. A day is such a short span of time.
I hadn't noticed the ticket price until I was seated on the front row right behind the glass in the Scott Trade Center. It was enjoyable watching the Blues dominate the Ducks with a 9 to 3 final score. It was so much better up close and personal. Hockey is not my number one sport, but I enjoyed every part of the exciting game. By the way, Mark Twain used to take to the ice on Bear Creek and the Mississippi River when he was a boy. By all accounts he was very good.
The game was great, but I was also able to pursue my favorite hobby--people watching. As a stage actor, I must do it. People are required reading for all actors. It is impossible to play real people without careful observation, and once you start, you can't stop. It is downright addictive.
People are the most interesting creatures. I am able to practice this pasttime anywhere, anytime, any day. Therefore, I love airports. The dramas that play out there are both comic and full of pathos. Malls, stores, and supermarkets are full of human comedy and drama. Now after last night, one of my favorite observation posts is a hockey game.
Where could you find thousands of people all proudly wearing the same shirt? Where can you find normally sane parents standing up and screaming "Kill him" at a fight on the ice. During the week Harvey is a non-violent man. On hockey nights all bets are off. At least that was my obervation.
Great theater also unfolds as guys stroll in with a trophy date. You can get a lot of street cred if you make the right entrance with the right woman. At least that is also my observation. In addition, a few rebels swim up stream as Ducks in a Blue's stream. You can't have drama without controversy.
We all modify our shapes. We all play our parts. Shakespeare asserted that "All the world's a stage." T. S. Eliot, another St. Louis observer, wrote, "We put on a face to meet the faces that we meet." What strange creatures we humans are. How great to be able to watch the show!
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Murder?
“If the desire to kill and the opportunity to kill came always together, who would escape hanging?” - Mark Twain, Following the Equator
Anything goes these days. Half the population seems to take pride in flying their freak flags. We have all known individuals who are just a little eccentric. I know a man who refuses to use a fork. For him, everything goes down easy with a spoon. I am acquainted with a young man who has given up completely on deodorant. He declares, “Deodorant is just not natural for the human being, and the aluminum causes all sorts of health problems.”
The internet has also performed a great disservice. All the crazies can form an international support group and encourage each other. We even have a cable show now on weird obsessions. Excuse me, I cannot watch. I am good with whatever you want to do that does not hurt others, but just don’t tell me about it. I love my ignorance.
Since anything does go these days, someone always carries a good thing too far. Have you encountered something so offensive that for a moment you . . . For example, I don’t know why but once upon a time I got up early for one of those “once in a lifetime sale” events. It was a mistake, and I solemnly promise to never do it again. I watched in horror as fashionable ladies and distinguished gentlemen morphed into savages. They grabbed and tugged and rampaged through the store like pirates attacking a defenseless merchant ship. When it was all over, the store was wrecked, and bargains were toted off in triumph. I was horrified. I did not buy a single item, but I watched an amazing demonstration of human nature.
Anything goes, but some behaviors are so disgusting that no punishment seems appropriate. Last week a young friend of mine was on her way to her downtown job. She explains that public transportation in New York, Boston, and Chicago uses plastic seats that can be easily scanned for bio hazards. St. Louis seats are problematic. When she sat down for her morning ride, she unknowingly sat in the urine left by the previous rider. Suddenly, the desire to kill took control, and we all have to admit that she had every right to seek justice. Alas, the culprit had fled, but if he had been available, another crime would certainly have been committed. Any court on earth would have ruled not guilty by right of self defense.
Perhaps, anything goes is not such a good idea. Your Mom may have been on to something when she said, “Sit up straight and behave yourself.”
Friday, February 18, 2011
Just the Facts II
"How empty is theory in the presence of fact!" -Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
Common sense is extremely uncommon. Most of us carry with us a strange mixture of fact and fiction. Some things we believe to be true are just theories. Some of our basic foundational understandings are nothing but pure speculation.
Ask any religious person—Muslim, Jew, Christian—if God exists. Almost unanimously, the believer will say “Absolutely.” In fact, many will take offense that you asked, but God’s existence is a theory. God cannot fit inside a test tube or be confined to a scientific study. There is powerful evidence of intelligent design in our universe, but no hard, undeniable facts. Therefore, the believer has faith, and faith is a marvelous thing.
I remember my Mom and my Aunt Lois always said, “Put your coat on. I don’t want you to catch a cold.” They believed, and I came to believe that overexposure to the cold would make me sick. We were all wrong. It’s the exposure to disease and the lowering of my body’s defenses that do the damage. If we repeat a lie long enough, we believe it is true.
In the political arena I hear dozens of theories about getting our national house in order. Everybody agrees that the national debt is a nation killer. Everybody wants economic growth. How do we do it? How can we separate fact from fiction when the budget is in the trillions of dollars and is published in a fat book with hundreds of pages. It boggles the mind.
Does the Congress of the United States pass laws on theory or fact? Do government officials govern with common sense? Do our representatives even read the bills they vote into law? Sorry, too many rhetorical questions for one blog. After all, Mark Twain said, “Congress is the only permanent criminal class we have in this country.”
Just think of all the hard issues we face today. It is amazing and terrifying to consider how ignorant we are of the facts. We bring a boatload of our prejudices, misinformation, pet theories, vague feelings, and fears to the table. We use almost no factual information as we make decisions about crime and punishment, American education reform, health care legislation, saving Social Security, energy independence, and social justice. And that’s a fact.
...if you are going to find out the facts of a thing, what's the sense in guessing out what ain't the facts and wasting ammunition? I didn't lose no sleep. - Mark Twain,Tom Sawyer, Detective
Common sense is extremely uncommon. Most of us carry with us a strange mixture of fact and fiction. Some things we believe to be true are just theories. Some of our basic foundational understandings are nothing but pure speculation.
Ask any religious person—Muslim, Jew, Christian—if God exists. Almost unanimously, the believer will say “Absolutely.” In fact, many will take offense that you asked, but God’s existence is a theory. God cannot fit inside a test tube or be confined to a scientific study. There is powerful evidence of intelligent design in our universe, but no hard, undeniable facts. Therefore, the believer has faith, and faith is a marvelous thing.
I remember my Mom and my Aunt Lois always said, “Put your coat on. I don’t want you to catch a cold.” They believed, and I came to believe that overexposure to the cold would make me sick. We were all wrong. It’s the exposure to disease and the lowering of my body’s defenses that do the damage. If we repeat a lie long enough, we believe it is true.
In the political arena I hear dozens of theories about getting our national house in order. Everybody agrees that the national debt is a nation killer. Everybody wants economic growth. How do we do it? How can we separate fact from fiction when the budget is in the trillions of dollars and is published in a fat book with hundreds of pages. It boggles the mind.
Does the Congress of the United States pass laws on theory or fact? Do government officials govern with common sense? Do our representatives even read the bills they vote into law? Sorry, too many rhetorical questions for one blog. After all, Mark Twain said, “Congress is the only permanent criminal class we have in this country.”
Just think of all the hard issues we face today. It is amazing and terrifying to consider how ignorant we are of the facts. We bring a boatload of our prejudices, misinformation, pet theories, vague feelings, and fears to the table. We use almost no factual information as we make decisions about crime and punishment, American education reform, health care legislation, saving Social Security, energy independence, and social justice. And that’s a fact.
...if you are going to find out the facts of a thing, what's the sense in guessing out what ain't the facts and wasting ammunition? I didn't lose no sleep. - Mark Twain,Tom Sawyer, Detective
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