Just the Facts

"First get your facts straight; then you may distort them as much as you please."  -Mark Twain

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. 

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.

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.

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. 

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. 

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.



 

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.