Full Disclosure: I'm Not a Trend-Setter

Thought for the day: No man has ever been shot while doing the laundry.

I just came in from hanging a tablecloth on the clothesline. Perfect day for it, too. Wall-to-wall sunshine, and a nice breeze blowing, the kind of day that does a lickety-split job of drying, and leaves everything smelling like the great outdoors. As I hung it, I thought about the tons of clothes I've clipped onto clotheslines over the years...

We lived in a row home when I was a kid, and had a fold-up umbrella type clothesline. In those days, every back yard in the whole congested neighborhood held a clothesline of some sort, and hanging clothes outside wasn't just a necessity; it was a time for bona fide over-the-fence socializing.

I reckon our love affair with computers have changed that scenario quite a bit, eh?




 But anyhow, back then, hanging clothes was a time for gossiping, political opining, recipe swapping, and talking about the latest guest on the Ed Sullivan show. I was a latchkey kid, so most of the time, I was the one out there hanging clothes behind our house, and for some unfathomable reason, the neighbor ladies accepted me as their pint-sized equal.

Now, not all the memories of those times are rosy. Trying to fold frozen clothes with equally frozen fingers wasn't a whole lot of fun.

Wasn't too great when one of our dogs completely shredded everything hanging on the line, or when a flock of mulberry-eating birds selected our humble sheets as a primary bombing target, either. But all-in-all, I remember those days fondly.











The first house Smarticus and I bought boasted a killer clothesline. Big sturdy metal tees with half a dozen long lines stretched between them. (As Tim Allen would say, "R-R-R-R!") The thing was, it was a pretty big yard, so there was never any socializing over the fence while hanging clothes. Then, most everybody got clothes dryers, so it became a rarity to even see anybody outside with a wet basket of laundry.

When we moved here to the sunny South, there were no clothesline to be seen in our neighborhood at all. Zip, zilch, nada. I reckon it was considered "common" or "old-fashioned" to hang clothes on the line in 1971. Anybody who was anybody had the latest, greatest clothes dryer by then. Even me. But I also had a clothesline in the back yard. Something big enough to hang sheets, because, really, is there anything that smells as wonderful as bedclothes filled with the smell of sunshine? Alas, in time, I, too, grew weary of hanging clothes. It's too bloody hot here in the summertime. And well, yeah, a dryer really is convenient.

But I still have ONE line strung out back, and always will. And when I was out there hanging that tablecloth this morning, lo and behold, the man who lives behind us was hanging something on a line in his yard, too! He's a new neighbor, and it's a brand new line. And get this: we exchanged greetings. It wasn't exactly heavy-duty socializing like days of yore, but it sure felt good. And I've noticed that some of the young families moving into our neighborhood are putting up clotheslines, too. Going green, they say. But I say, what's old is new again.

Like lots of other things. Our daughter used to tease me unmercifully because of some of the clothes I wore. Like clam diggers. In fact, she teased me so much, I finally got rid of them. And wouldn't ya know, they're all the rage now. They call 'em capri pants these days, but as far as I'm concerned, they're just good old clam diggers with a fancy name and attitude. So in years to come, if you should happen to see me sporting a suddenly popular pair of bell bottom pants, it won't be because I'm a trend-setter. It'll be because I never got rid of my old ones. And if red patent leather platform shoes ever come back into style, I'm all set. And (shhh) just between you and me, I'm never giving up my slouch socks.

Hmmmm, maybe I should teach my granddaughters how to play jacks. We could be starting a new trend ...

How about you? Are some of the "old things" from your past becoming new again? (Face lifts don't count!)

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. Think I'll go pull out my old bag of balls and jacks. My skills could use a little brushing up.







P.S. Hanukkah, an eight-day festival celebrating the triumph of light over darkness, of purity over adulteration, and spirituality over materialism, begins this weekend. To all who are Jewish, I wish you a very happy Hanukkah. For the rest of us, I believe we, too, should embrace the ideals of light over darkness.

If you're gonna be lighting a menorah, I bet you won't be doing it quite like THIS:

         

'Tis the Season

Thought for the day:  People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are people without homes.  [Sheila McKechnie]

 You can't see his face, but he still has one.

Are there any homeless people in your town? Do you ever pass them when you're walking down the street? Maybe see them sleeping on a park bench or under a slab of cardboard? Do you... see them? I mean, really see them?

Most people don't, you know. Most don't look at their faces, and don't think of them as real people. As individuals. It's much easier to lump them together and dismiss them as a faceless nameless group of... what? Unfortunates?

A castaway in the sea was going down for the third time when he caught sight of a passing ship. Gathering his last strength, he waved frantically and called for help. Someone on board peered at him scornfully and shouted back, "Get a boat!" [Daniel Quinn]

Is that the kind of disdain society shows the homeless? I'm ashamed to say it, but all too often, it is.

At least, we try harder this time of year. After all, 'tis the season, right?

Last week, the World Congress Center in Atlanta was put to a very good use. Not to promote industry or innovative ideas, and not as a center for a robotics or some other kind of competition. No, it was used as the venue to provide a lovely Thanksgiving dinner to people in need, many of whom were homeless. Some 7000 people were served on-site, and another 1000 meals were delivered to people who were unable to attend. In addition, haircuts, clothing, medical care, and other services were provided, as needed.

Fabulous, right? This annual feeding, began by the now-deceased Hosea Williams, has been taking place in Atlanta for many years. But what happens to all of those people the other 364 days of the year?

Four years ago, a homeless man who'd been wandering the streets of Atlanta for nearly a year was featured in our local newspaper. His story started with him doing what he did every day... digging through dumpsters for something to eat.

Well, he found a wallet in one of the dumpsters. A Frenchwoman's wallet... and it contained her ID and credit card. This homeless man... this man named Joel... was determined to make it right for that tourist, so he walked from hotel to hotel, until he found where she was staying. At the luxurious Omni hotel, he turned the wallet over to the desk clerk, but when the clerk asked for his name, Joel made one up. What difference did it make? He figured he was... nobody.

But he wasn't nobody to the hotel manager. Based on the picture taken by the security camera, people hit the streets until they found Joel... and brought him back to the hotel. There, he was given five hundred dollars and a week's stay, complete with free room service and a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.

Joel was much appreciative of the shower and bed. He also received new clothes, a haircut, and a modicum of new-found dignity. He also got a lot of publicity. Other people sent money and gifts to him, and he got several job offers. He was the homeless man who'd done the right thing. He was the homeless man with a background story... the homeless man with a face. With a name...

and a family, a family that had been trying to find him for the past decade. His deceased father's long-time girlfriend and two half-brothers flew to Atlanta to reunite with him. They all had Thanksgiving dinner together, and then the family left. Went back home to their lives.

Joel's story certainly didn't end there, but that was the extent of the newspaper coverage. I can't help but wonder what became of him and if he went to Alaska, like he said he wanted to do, or if he's still wandering the streets of Atlanta or some other city. I wonder if he got the medical and mental help he needed, and if he's been able to hold a job, gotten back on his feet... and stayed there. And I wonder if he ever saw his family again, or if that was a one-time Thanksgiving kinda thing.

Joel's short time in the limelight brings up a lot of questions. Like, what does it say about decent society that it can be so insultingly surprised that a homeless man did the right thing? After all, no matter what his current circumstances, how can we justify jumping to the automatic assumption that he isn't a kind and caring soul, and a decent man with concern for other people?

I mean, I don't think I'm alone when I look at the homeless person or the psychotic or the drunk or the drug addict and see their baby pictures in my mind's eye. You don't think they were cute like every other baby? [Dustin Hoffman]

Hungry not only for bread — but hungry for love. Naked not only for clothing — but naked for human dignity and respect. Homeless not only for want of a room of bricks — but homeless because of rejection.  [Mother Teresa]

A 27 year-old female visitor to Philadelphia ran out of gasoline... at night... and learned first-hand how kind and caring a homeless man can be. Johnny Bobbitt, Jr., a 36 year-old homeless man, told her to lock her car doors, and then he walked to a gas station, purchased gas with his last twenty dollars and brought it back to her. Kate McClure didn't have any cash to repay him at the time, but she later returned several times to bring him cash, clothes, and food. But that didn't feel like nearly enough to repay the selfless man, so she started a Gofundme.com campaign in his behalf, hoping to raise $10,000 to help him find a place to live, because she was sure all he needed was a little break. As of the last time I checked, donations for this former Marine had soared to nearly four hundred thousand dollars. Evidently, others believed in giving him a chance, too. https://www.gofundme.com/hvv4r-paying-it-forward

 I can't help but wonder if this time of year... this glorious time of Thanksgiving, Hannukah, Christmas, and joy to the world isn't the real reason Joel got the royal treatment for a week, and why so many people opened their wallets to help Johnny. Do you think they would have been treated as well in the middle of  July or August?




Have you ever wished people were as loving and caring year-round as they are during this time of year? Wondered why the smiles and laughter aren't as heartfelt, and the hugs as warm, in March as they are in December? Why you don't get a mountain of wrapped presents every day, instead of just one measly time a year? (Only kidding about that one. Just checking to see if you were paying attention.) Anyway, Christmas is fast approaching. Anticipation builds, and as we all prepare to celebrate, I'd like to share an excerpt from Keeping Christmas, written by Henry Van Dyke:

There is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.

Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you; to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world; to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground; to see that men and women are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy; to own up to the fact that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness.

Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and desires of little children; to remember the weakness and loneliness of people growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and ask yourself whether you love them enough; to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear in their hearts; to try to understand what those who live in the same home with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you; to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front of you so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open---

Are you willing to do these things, even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas. And if you can keep it for a day, why not always?

+++++

                                        Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

If you light a lamp for someone, it will also brighten your path.  [Buddhist saying]

This 'n' That

Thought for the day:  Compassion is language the deaf can hear and the blind can see. [Mark Twain]

[image courtesy of morguefile]

Yes, I agree with Mr. Twain, because compassion is communicated heart-to-heart. I'm all in favor of compassion and understanding, and I wholeheartedly applaud the laws which were (finally) enacted to level the playing field a bit for people with certain disabilities. A caring society should do no less than to provide equal access to all citizens whenever possible.

And yet... there's THIS...

I honestly don't know what to think about a newspaper article I read earlier this week, so I'm gonna throw it out to you guys, and see what you think.



Movie enthusiast Paul McGann asked a Cinemark theater in Pittsburgh to provide a tactile interpreter so he could see the movie Gone Girl. [FYI: Tactile interpretation involves placing one's hands over the hands of an interpreter, who then uses sign language to describe the movie's actions, etc.] The movie theater denied Mr. McGann's request, and the gentleman took them to court. As of now, an appeals court has ruled that according to federal disability law, theaters are required to provide specialized interpreters for blind and deaf patrons. This case will likely go through more appeals before a final decision is made, but what do YOU think?

[image courtesy of morguefile]

Is it reasonable, or even possible, for every movie theater to hire interpreters? How would they even do that? Have a number of them on call and summon one to the movie when needed, or would they have to pay a flat rate to keep interpreters available, whether or not a patron ever requests their services?  Mr. McCann uses American Sign Language, but would it be sufficient for theaters to hire ASL interpreters? How about the patrons who use a different sign language...? How cost-prohibitive would this all be? Could this signal the end of movie theaters altogether?

Seriously, I'd love to know what you think about this matter.

And now... on to THAT...

[Dot and Dash]

It's no secret that Smarticus and I have two very spoiled and most-loving-in-the-whole-world cats. Lots of you guys have much-loved kitties... and dogs... too, and I know you're every bit as attached to your critters as we are.

Another newspaper article highlighted a different sort of furry companion that's expected to hit the markets next summer. An invention of Japanese company Yukai Engineering, Qoobo has fur, a twitchy tail, and even vibrates like a purring kitty, but it doesn't eat, or ralph up hairballs all over the house, or gnaw on your plants, or need a litter box... because it, um, has no head. It's essentially a round 2-pound pillow with a tail.

Some outraged pet owners say it's ridiculous to think anyone could ever love one of these things, and it's insulting to think it could ever replace sweet little Fluffy or Fido.

And YET... I believe this gizmo will find a niche. Not for those of us who are able to love and care for our pets, but how about for certain nursing home patients (or others) who may not be of sound mind or body? Wouldn't it maybe provide them some of the valuable serenity and calmness ordinarily found by holding and petting a real living, breathing purring kitty? What do YOU think?

Now that I've covered THIS and THAT, it's time for me to scat. (ahem) Dot and Dash are seeking my services...

                                       Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Poly Ticks

Thought for the day:  No man's good enough to govern another man without the other's consent. [Abraham Lincoln]

[morguefile]

Since the beginning of recorded history, politicians have been both revered and reviled... revered by themselves, and reviled by the rest of us. Heck, even before the start of recorded history, I'll betcha a handful of cave men considered themselves to be in charge, while the rest of 'em went along, simply because they didn't give a jolly damn who did the leading.

Those who are too smart to engage in politics are punished by being governed by those who are dumber.  [Plato]

[morguefile]

I dunno. Maybe that's how so many clowns end up in office. Maybe voters just don't care.

What spurred this head-scratching line of thought is the recent re-election of a fella named Joseph D. Morrissey. This guy has such a long history of getting into fistfights, being in contempt of court, and getting thrown in jail, his nickname is Fighting Joe, and because of his habitual unethical and inappropriate behavior, he lost his license to practice law more than a decade ago. In 1992, voters had no problem electing him when he was in jail, so I guess they figured it was no big deal to do it again.  Yep, he is currently serving time for contributing to the delinquency of a minor (for having sex with a seventeen-year-old employee), but courtesy of a work-release program, the scoundrel is spending his days serving in Virginia's General Assembly, and his nights cooling his heels in the slammer.

[morguefile]

Now, I don't mean to pick on the voters in Virginia. It isn't as though that's an isolated case. Nope. Unfortunately, voters all over the country seem to have no problem putting ethically-challenged people in office... over and over again. Are our choices that bad that a mayor who's been put in jail for cocaine use can get re-elected as soon as he's freed? To show how intelligent and capable that D.C. mayor (Marion Barry) was, he actually asked, What right does Congress have to go around making laws just because they deem it necessary? 

Are our choices that bad that a politician who's repeatedly lied to the public, cheated on his family, and used taxpayer money to fly off to South America to be with his mistress is later forgiven, not by his wife, who divorced him, but by the voters, who accepted his mea culpa and happily put him back in office?

Georgia's no different. Most voters don't even raise an eyebrow about the shady ethics and even shadier backroom deals conducted by the good ol' boys who run our state. Business as usual, I guess.

Remember Gary Hart? When he was trying to capture the Democratic nomination for president, he was captured on film with a very curvaceous young lady... to whom he was not married, if ya get my drift. Know what he said? The attractive lady whom I had only recently been introduced to dropped into my lap – I chose not to dump her off. (What a gentleman!)

At least, he had the decency to drop out of the running and into obscurity. Can't say as much for plenty of other politicians, who continue to get away with improprieties out the wazoo. Somehow, I don't think Ted Kennedy was even offended by his nickname: Tyrannosaurus Sex. Massachusetts voters must not have been offended by his drunkenness and womanizing, either. They elected him to term after term, even after a pregnant young lady died in his car when he drove off a bridge in the summer of 1969. He swam to safety.

So what qualifies someone for political office these day? Evidently, it's not ethics, and I don't think it's brains, either. Must be MONEY, and lots of it. Name recognition helps, too. Voters seem to mark the ballot for the person they kinda sorta remember hearing something about... even if they can't remember what it was they heard...

Sigh.

Oh well, I got that off my chest. Now let's make fun of some of our past politicians, shall we? (They make it soooooo easy.)


In the category of I don't think this is what they meant to say:

• This President is going to lead us out of this recovery.  [Dan Quayle] 
• A zebra does not change its spots.  [Al Gore] 
• It's no exaggeration to say that the undecided could go one way or another. [George Bush, Sr.] 
• Rarely is the question asked "Is our children learning?"  [George W Bush]
• That low down scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass - and I'm just the one to do it! [Texan Congressional candidate]
• Traditionally, most of our imports come from overseas. [Australian minister Keppel Enderby] 
• Our enemies are innovative and resourceful, and so are we. They never stop thinking about new ways to harm our country and our people, and neither do we. [George W. Bush] 
• Things are more like they are now, than they ever were before. [Dwight D Eisenhower] 
• If you're sick and tired of the politics of cynicism and polls and principles, come and join this campaign!  [George W Bush] 
• I stand by all the misstatements that I've made. [Dan Quayle]

Ahhh, V.P. Dan Quayle. He deserves a category all to himself. (Bless his heart.)

• One word sums up probably the responsibility of any vice president, and that one word is 'to be prepared'.
• I love California, I practically grew up in Phoenix. 
• It's wonderful to be here in the great state of Chicago. 
• I was recently on a tour of Latin America, and the only regret I have was that I didn't study Latin harder in school so I could converse with those people. 
• We have a firm commitment to NATO, we are a part of NATO. We have a firm commitment to Europe. We are a part of Europe. 
• The global importance of the Middle East is that it keeps the Far East and the Near East from encroaching on each other. 
• We're going to have the best-educated American people in the world.
• I believe we are on an irreversible trend toward more freedom and democracy - but that could change. 
• We are ready for any unforeseen event that may or may not occur. 
• The future will be better tomorrow.

Our two Presidents Bush said so many cockamamie things, there have been whole books written about Bushisms. This is what a couple other politicians had to say about them:  He can't help it. He was born with a silver foot in his mouth. [Ann Richards, former Texas governor, about the senior Bush]  If ignorance goes to forty dollars a barrel, I want drilling rights to George Bush's head. [Jim Hightower, former Texas Commissioner of Agriculture, about the younger Bush] 

Oh what the heck, thanks to our colorful politicians, political cartoonists are never lacking for a topic. Talk about job security. The only thing wrong with political jokes is... they keep getting elected.

Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.  [George Orwell]

A politician thinks of the next election – a statesman, of the next generation. [James Freeman Clarke]

Yep, that's what we need. More statesmen, and less politicians. We need more people on the scene like Winston Churchhill. But just wait a minute... before you Brits get all high-and-mighty because your leaders don't get involved in as many scandals as ours here in the upstart colonies, I heard your Prince Charles was recently caught getting down and dirty. Uh-huh. That's right. Way down and dirty. Heh, heh, heh.

Um, never mind. My bad. Turns out he was 250 feet underground to mark the 150th anniversary of London's sewers. 

                          Big deal! Our leaders generate plenty of stink all by themselves.

[source: the lovely Pixel Peeper's blog ]

                                      Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

I'm Not Buying It

Thought for the day:  The very rich are different from you and me.  [F.Scott Fitzgerald]

Well, obviously, people who have enough money to wipe their tushes with hundred-dollar bills have a lot more money than we do, but that isn't the only thing that sets them apart from the rest of us. Numerous studies have shown that the wealthy tend to behave differently, too. And many of them have attitudes of entitlement.

For example, consider these tidbits gleaned from Jim Winokur's book The Rich Are Different: 

*  When Christina Onassis got thirsty, she ordered Diet Coke... to be flown to her by private jet.
* Ivana Trump hated to see footprints on the carpet in her house. In fact, she hated it so much, she wouldn't even enter a room unless the rug was freshly vacuumed.
* The Sultan of Brunei flew the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to London for his son's ninth birthday. The cost? A cool million bucks.
* Woolworth heiress Barbara Hutton was often carried around by a hunky attendant. When asked why, she said, "Why should I walk when I can hire someone to do it for me?"
* When one-time Time Warner boss Steve Ross flew his wife and two other couples to Mexico for Christmas, the trip required two corporate planes... one for the people, and one for the gifts.
* Donald Trump's 727 had 24-carat gold belt buckles.

Having more money doesn't make you happier. I have fifty million dollars, but I'm just as happy as I was when I had forty-eight million.  [Arnold Schwarzenegger]
              **********************

When I was in elementary school, our principal would often pop into our classroom, and when he did, he usually told us a silly joke. One of those jokes was about a pet parrot named Enza. The family was very distraught because their beloved parrot had escaped through an open window, but the punch line delivered a happy... and corny... ending. When they left the window open again... In Flew Enza. Okay, so he wasn't the world's best comedian, but it's gotta mean something that I can still remember that punch line after all these years.

Well, ya know what you get when you combine  influenza with affluence? You get a whole new word to describe an affliction that strikes only the wealthy: affluenza. 

That word burst into my consciousness this past December, but it actually isn't a new concept. In fact, the term may have been coined as far back as 1954, and PBS ran a special by that name in 1997. British psychologist Oliver James defined the term several years ago as placing a high value on money, possessions, appearances, and fame. In their 2006 book, called Affluenza: When Too Much is Never Enough, Australian psychologists Clive Hamilton and Richard Denniss concluded that wealth causes over-consumption and materialism, and inevitably leads those poor little rich kids to self-medicate with booze and drugs.

Some people made a teensy bit of fun at the idea of affluenza:

But this past December, the unthinkable happened. It was used as a defense in a criminal trial.

Was this a case of the scales of justice being blatantly tipped to favor the wealthy? You decide.

The case: Sixteen-year-old Texan Ethan Couch and seven of his friends stole and drank two cases of beer. The other boys allegedly begged Couch to slow down, but he was still driving the pickup truck thirty MPH over the speed limit when he plowed into four people at the side of the road. And killed them. Eleven others were injured. Two of his friends were thrown from the bed of the truck, one of whom will be paralyzed for the rest of his life. Couch? He fled on foot, yelling, "I'm Ethan Couch! We'll get out of this." Three hours after the accident, his blood alcohol level still measured three times the legal limit, and a trace of valium lingered in his blood.

Bottom line, he was right. He did get out of it. This wasn't his first run-in with the law, either. He'd already been charged with underage drinking before, and he was found with an unconscious, undressed fourteen year-old girl in his truck, too. The consequences? Nuttin, honey.

It's all about the affluenza. His lawyer said he suffers from it, and needed rehabilitation, not prison. G. Dick Miller, a psychologist hired by the family, said the boy was a product of affluenza, and thus, unable to link his bad behavior with consequences because he had been raised to believe wealth buys privilege.

I'm not buying it, but evidently the judge did. She sentenced him to alcohol rehabilitation and ten years' probation. The posh California rehab center looks like a resort... and will cost the family almost half a million dollars a year.

So, I ask you, if his so-called affliction was caused by a lack of consequences, how exactly does shielding him yet again from the consequences of his behavior cure that affliction? Talk about the ultimate irony. How will getting out of it change his behavior?

And if essentially what is an innocent by reason of wealth is a valid defense, shouldn't innocent by reason of poverty be a valid plea as well? If a kid can get a slap on the wrist for being over-privileged, doesn't an under-privileged kid deserve the same consideration?

Lawyers believe a man is innocent until proven broke.  [Robin Hall]

Yeah, right. I wouldn't give a plug nickel's chance of that ever working. Matter of fact, in 2012, the same judge who sentenced Couch to rehab and probation sentenced another fourteen-year-old to ten years in juvenile detention. He punched a man, and the man fell, hit his head, and died. That young man was black. Okay, so that may not have had anything to do with the ruling, but let's just say... he wasn't named Ethan Couch. And I doubt very seriously if he or his family were troubled with an overabundance of funds.

And so it goes.

                                               So what do you think...?

                          Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

The Face of Christmas

Thought for the day:  People who are homeless are not social inadequates. They are people without homes.  [Sheila McKechnie]

 You can't see my face, but I still have one.

Are there any homeless people in your town? Do you ever pass them when you're walking down the street? Maybe see them sleeping on a park bench or under a slab of cardboard? Do you... see them? I mean, really see them?

Most people don't, you know. Most don't look at their faces, and don't think of them as real people. As individuals. It's much easier to dismiss them as a faceless and nameless group of... what? Unfortunates?

A castaway in the sea was going down for the third time when he caught sight of a passing ship. Gathering his last strength, he waved frantically and called for help. Someone on board peered at him scornfully and shouted back, "Get a boat!" [Daniel Quinn]

Is that the kind of disdain society shows the homeless? I'm ashamed to say it, but all too often, it is.

Last month, a homeless man who's been wandering the streets of Atlanta since March was featured in the newspaper. His story started with him doing what he does every day... digging through dumpsters for something to eat.

Well, he found a wallet in one of the dumpsters. A Frenchwoman's wallet... and it contained her ID and credit card. This homeless man... this man named Joel... was determined to make it right for that tourist, so he walked from hotel to hotel, until he found where she was staying. At the luxurious Omni hotel, he turned the wallet over to the desk clerk. When the clerk asked for his name, Joel gave him a fake name. What difference did it make? He was... nobody.

But he wasn't nobody to the hotel manager. Based on Joel's picture taken by the security camera, people hit the streets until they found him... and brought him back to the hotel. There, he was given five hundred dollars and a week's stay, complete with free room service and a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.

Joel was much appreciative of the shower and bed. He also received new clothes, a haircut, and new-found dignity. He also got a lot of publicity. Other people sent money and gifts to him, and he got several job offers. He was the homeless man who'd done the right thing. He was the homeless man with a background story... the homeless man with a face. With a name...

And a family, a family that had been trying to find him for the past decade. His deceased father's long-time girlfriend and two half-brothers flew to Atlanta to reunite with him. They all had Thanksgiving dinner together. Then the family left. Went back home to their lives.

Joel's story certainly doesn't end there, but that's the end of the newspaper coverage. What happened to him when he left that luxury hotel? Did he go to Alaska, like he said he wanted to do? Did he get the medical and mental help he needed? Will he be able to hold a job this time? Can he get back on his feet... and stay there? Will he ever see his family again?

Joel's short time in the limelight brings up a lot of questions. Like, what does it say about decent society that it can be so insultingly surprised that a homeless man did the right thing? After all, no matter what his current circumstances, how can we justify jumping to the automatic assumption that he isn't a kind and caring soul, and a decent man with concern for other people?

I mean, I don't think I'm alone when I look at the homeless person or the psychotic or the drunk or the drug addict and see their baby pictures in my mind's eye. You don't think they were cute like every other baby? [Dustin Hoffman]

Hungry not only for bread — but hungry for love. Naked not only for clothing — but naked for human dignity and respect. Homeless not only for want of a room of bricks — but homeless because of rejection.  [Mother Teresa]

 I also can't help but wonder if this time of year... this glorious time of Thanksgiving, Hannukah, Christmas, and joy to the world isn't the real reason Joel got the royal treatment for a week. Do you think he would have been treated so well in the middle of  July or August?

Have you ever wished people were as loving and caring year-round as they are during this time of year? Wondered why the smiles and laughter aren't as heartfelt, and the hugs as warm, in March as they are in December? Why you don't get a mountain of wrapped presents every day, instead of just one measly time a year? (Only kidding about that one. Just checking to see if you were paying attention.) Anyway, Christmas is fast approaching. Anticipation builds, and as we all prepare to celebrate, I'd like to share an excerpt from Keeping Christmas, written by Henry Van Dyke:

There is a better thing than the observance of Christmas day, and that is, keeping Christmas.

Are you willing to forget what you have done for other people, and to remember what other people have done for you; to ignore what the world owes you, and to think what you owe the world; to put your rights in the background, and your duties in the middle distance, and your chances to do a little more than your duty in the foreground; to see that men and women are just as real as you are, and try to look behind their faces to their hearts, hungry for joy; to own up to the fact that probably the only good reason for your existence is not what you are going to get out of life, but what you are going to give to life; to close your book of complaints against the management of the universe, and look around you for a place where you can sow a few seeds of happiness.

Are you willing to stoop down and consider the needs and desires of little children; to remember the weakness and loneliness of people growing old; to stop asking how much your friends love you, and ask yourself whether you love them enough; to bear in mind the things that other people have to bear in their hearts; to try to understand what those who live in the same home with you really want, without waiting for them to tell you; to trim your lamp so that it will give more light and less smoke, and to carry it in front of you so that your shadow will fall behind you; to make a grave for your ugly thoughts, and a garden for your kindly feelings, with the gate open---

Are you willing to do these things, even for a day? Then you can keep Christmas. And if you can keep it for a day, why not always?
+++++

                                        Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

If you light a lamp for someone, it will also brighten your path.  [Buddhist saying]

History Picks Its Path

Thought for the day:  When you come to a fork in the road, take it.  [Yogi Berra]

Sometimes, it seems like life is a labyrinth of choices, doesn't it? With a leap of faith, we pause at each fork in the road, and then choose one path after another as we make our way through the maze. As we continue our journey forward, we try not to waste too much time pondering the what ifs of the paths not taken.

Not today. Nope. Today, we're purposely gonna waste some time pondering a few historical what ifs. Hold your hand eye-level, with your thumb and forefinger separated by about an inch. That's how close the following historical events came to taking an entirely different path...

What if... Abraham Lincoln were assassinated before he even took office? Didja know he received thousands and thousands of death threats during his presidency? Didja know he came (hold up that thumb and forefinger again) this close to being assassinated before his inauguration even took place? The plot hinged on creating a distraction by staging a riot when he was passing through Baltimore en route to the inauguration, and then shooting him during the ensuing chaos. Luckily, Lincoln's head of security Allan Pinkerton (ring a bell?) uncovered the plot, and successfully thwarted it by changing to a circuitous travel route, and putting Lincoln in disguise.

What if... LBJ were killed the same day as JFK? He came... this close. Fourteen hours after Kennedy's death, when everyone's senses were on heightened alert, a Secret Service man spotted a dark figure walking on the Johnson property that night. Allegedly, with his finger on the trigger, Agent Gerald Blaine aimed his machine gun at the unknown figure. Luckily, he recognized Johnson before pulling that trigger.

What if... Germany had air superiority during World War II? After all, the country already had a stellar reputation for its technological ability. What if... Germany had a stealth bomber?

Believe it or not, they came this close...

You may have already known about Lincoln and Johnson, but I wonder how many of you know about this... how many of you know about Germany's stealth bomber? AKA the Horton HO 2-29.

Hermann Goering ordered German designers to come up with a bomber that could carry 1000 kg over 1000 km flying 1000 km per hour.  Two pilot brothers, Reimar and Walter Horton, came up with a flying wing design, and the first of only three prototypes was built and tested in March, 1944. The planes were built primarily out of wood, powered by jet engines, and coated with a mixture of charcoal dust and wood glue. Top speed was 970 km per hour.

Before Germany could begin producing the plane on an industrial scale, the Allied troops invaded, and captured the blueprints and what was left of the only remaining prototype.

Those remains are now at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum near Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C., where they have undergone extensive testing, and hopefully, will some day be put on display.

Analysis determined the canopy to be made from a polymethyl methacrylate (PMMA) plastic, which chemists developed a decade earlier.

 In 2008, following the original blueprint, and using only materials that were available in 1944, Northrup-Grumnan built a full-scale replica of the Horton HO 2-29. They also tested the stealth capability of the original charcoal dust and wood glue mixture, and determined that it would have provided a 20% reduction in radar detection. The Horton replica is currently on display at the San Diego Air and Space Museum.

So, tell me. Was this what if  revelation about the first stealth bomber... a flying wing, no less... as startling to you as it was to me? Know of any other what if that came this close to changing the course of history?

                                   Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

                               The Road Not Taken

                                         Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
                                         And sorry I could not travel both
                                         And be one traveler, long I stood
                                        And looked down one as far as I could
                                        To where it bent in the undergrowth;

                                        Then took the other, as just as fair,
                                       And having perhaps the better claim
                                       Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
                                       Though as for that the passing there
                                       Had worn them really about the same,

                                       And both that morning equally lay
                                       In leaves no step had trodden black.
                                       Oh, I kept the first for another day!
                                       Yet knowing how way leads on to way
                                        I doubted if I should ever come back.

                                       I shall be telling this with a sigh
                                      Somewhere ages and ages hence:
                                      Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
                                      I took the one less traveled by,
                                     And that has made all the difference.

                                                  [Robert Frost]

[Images courtesy of Wikipedia, morguefile, and the National Archives]