Easter

Easter Sunday

I watched a kids show this morning, and the theme was trash. It was a whole hour devoted to garbage in cyber space where these little fellows hung out. Then in the news I see someone has invented a Waste Shark to “eat” the trash in harbors.

Further reading in the New York Times has an article about our diminishing glaciers. Every week the PBS station does a story on the Antarctic ice shelves that are breaking off.

On YouTube, a music video warns that we have 12 more years of grace period before the planet heats up to the no return point.

So- the governments of the world have recognized that we are on the brink of destruction through our own fault.

It is not a natural cycle of warming and cooling due to “natural forces”.

We are to blame for our own demise, and our great grandchildren will know this.

How do we combat this?

First control the burning of fossil fuels, and stop polluting our oceans. We depend on sea life to support our life.

Short sighted people will still think it is not our job to do anything about this warming, as it would “destroy jobs” and give Big Government too much power and interference in our lives.

Global pollution and warming is a fact.

No matter how it got that way we should make the greatest efforts to save the planet from dying.

We are supposed to be celebrating the advent of a renewal as in a mythical resurrection from the dead, and the return of Spring.

It looks suspiciously like the God we honor and revere has declined to interfere in any matter on this planet.

In fact the holidays seem to be a signpost for terrorists to set off bombs and shoot up churches.

Maybe that is their God’s way of sending a wake up call?

I am wondering just how bad is it going to get before we make any real progress at controlling violence both to our bodies and the earth.

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Notre Dame

Fire

4/16/19

Yesterday’s fire in Paris was very sad to all, but especially the French. I was sad because I had once seen the Cathedral of Notre Dame at night all lit up.

I would have mourned for any other comparable building too, like Westminster Abbey, the York Minister, the cathedral at Poitiers, or even St Patricks in New York City.

It is not for the religious artifacts that were lost that I would mourn, but because these grand building were built by men, and came from their imaginations.

When I toured Westminster, I admired the fact that the building had stood for 900 years, and that the English had taken care of it.

When we consider the Great Pyramids of Egypt or the Great Wall of China, these man made structures lasted because they were so huge that no one era could take them down. Now that there has been some vandalism on the pyramids we see that man kind can whittle down structures given enough time.

I was shocked to hear that the items saved from the fire were religious things like a nail from the “true cross”. Every writer of medieval history knows that there was a great commerce in selling finger bones to credulous people and passing them off as bones from saints. These relics were supposed to cure diseases and perform miracles through prayer.

Praying for rain to put out a fire is just as useless as praying for the intercession of imaginary saints.

How can the top officials in the Catholic religion promote such fairy stories as a nail from a cross or a crown of thorns.

These items like the Shroud of Turin, would not stand up to close examination or carbon dating, as the Middle Ages were notorious for the buying and selling of fragments of the so called “true” cross. There were enough little pieces of wood sold to the true believers to build mansions.

The building can be restored, given enough time and money, but the mention of holy relics just leaves me cold, and I find it very sad that people can still believe such claptrap.

4/16/19

This morning on the news the question was asked if this catastrophe would make fallen away Catholics return to their faith.

The talking heads seemed to say yes, but I beg to differ. The fallen away will soon go on to other things, and while rich men may contribute to the rebuilding effort, I doubt if the 18 and under next generation will have much faith in anything.

Brooks

Brooks on Life

4/15/19

This morning I was quite surprised to see David Brooks on the CBS Morning Show.

He was selling his new book, The Second Mountain .

He came across as a much more humble person than I had been accustomed to watching on Friday night PBS News Hour.

David has found some truths about himself that were hard won, and that those of us who have never been to the first mountain of success, riches, and fame had known all along.

There is no real satisfaction in being all those things if you wind up alone in the valley.

John Dickerson then quipped “What if you are born in the valley?”

It makes me want to know more about John Dickerson.

David now understands that relationships are the key to happiness and life satisfaction, and life does not mean too much without good  relationships with friends, family and co workers.

I guess I will have to read the book to see how he got out of the valley of despond.

Getting Educated

After Reading Educated by Tara Westover, and reading an interview I think all women and girls should read this book.

Educated

4/14/19

I had a long and tortuous road to becoming educated so I could sympathize with Tara Westover in her efforts to get off the farm/junkyard and into college.

She had help from her mother and older brother, but had to hurdle obstacles of a paternalistic father and a bully /rapist in training brother.

I read her biography before I had to read it for a book discussion group, and what I will say to the group next time we meet is that the story really pissed me off.

I saw her being interviewed also, and know that she does not have any communication with her father, and her mother betrayed her in the end by denying that her brother ever tortured her.

This is the kind of life that a strict paternalistic religion inflicts on the weak and female.

The father had a junk metal business, and the children were considered free slave labor.

The aim of having children to his mind was to work them hard and pay no attention to their education or future welfare. He did not even care for their present welfare, making her get into a bin with metal shards that almost cost her life.

I was wondering how she avoided developing tetanus while sorting old scrap metals.

A man  who claims to “home school” his children while exploiting them as free labor sources has no place in society, or even freedom.

If the laws were more stringent in Idaho, he would have been thrown in jail for child endangerment. Sadly, the Mormon religion creeps into the government in the mountain states, and over- rules any “rights” to which a child in any other parts of America enjoy.

Tara had the determination to study for the entrance exams to Brigham Young in Provo Utah, and since she was Mormon, was entitled to apply for financial aid. That was her ticket out to the bigger world, so she salvaged something from her past enslavement.

I am becoming more and more disgusted with how women are treated by societies with a strong paternalistic religion, and am hoping that the modern trend of the youth not bothering with churchy stuff will change women’s status for the better.

Michelle

 

Michelle

4/5/19

For the first time ever, I got a book loaded on to my laptop and fixed it so I could read it comfortably.

The story of Michelle Obama, Becoming was a true revelation, as I thought that I had little in common with her or her life.

I was wrong.

First, she had a father that was a boiler fireman, and so did I . Her dad taught her many things, and mine explained the workings of the internal combustion engine when I was 8.

They both had physical disabilities to overcome. Mr. Robinson fought MS all his later life, and mine developed ankylosing spondalitus early on at 30.  That meant that he could not turn his head to check for traffic, as his spine was fused from skull to tail bone.

The family that Michelle grew up in had so many connections in the community, that my parents input to Farm Bureau and Garden Club seemed paltry. This community connection of hers enabled her to compete at a high level, while I felt that I was the outsider in various family reunions.

Michelle wanted a family, and I did not, but the most shocking thing about her life was how her mom treated her.

Basically Michelle’s mom encouraged her to succeed, and all family discussions around the family dinner table was geared to make her and her brother think about their place in the world and how they could contribute. It was a child centric family. Michelle thought she could not go to Paris on a high school field trip because of the cost but her parents made her go!

My dad was Catholic, and laid down the rules for money and church going, with the answer always to be known that it was “No” if I wanted anything that cost more than $5.00.

Comparing my mom with Michelle’s mom, I started to wonder what was wrong with mine?

When Michelle would come home from school loaded with rants and frustrations, her mom never stomped on the flow of words, but let Michelle work it out for herself, aways maintaining a neutral stance. When I wanted to talk and share my childish worries I was told” Your tongue is hung in the middle and flaps at both ends”.

Now, looking back over 70 years at my mom, I think that the move to California from Michigan and thereby making her a stranger in a strange land must have done some invisible harm.

She may have been depressed by the time I was starting school, and had only minimal energy to see that I was a success. Our energies went into making sure that my dad got what he wanted, and his opinion was the only one that mattered. She just went along.

The only thing that launched me away from a totally boring small town trap was my love of books and the world that they opened. We did not have political discussions at the dinner table but once in a while we were ‘treated” to the recitation of The Ancient Mariner by my dad. Otherwise we ate our food in silence and only spoke when spoken to.

Refugees

I have not posted lately because I was waiting for The Shoe To Drop. It turns out that the Mueller Report is more like a peep through The Hole In The Sock of The Shoe that Did not Drop!

Here is something completely different.

Refugees

4/3/19

Where do we get our news and opinions on the refugee crisis? From the media and from our own experience.

My knowledge comes from family stories, personal contacts, and books.

I am more interested in the history of our various immigration stories than in the bad mouthing that goes on today in the political circles.

Way back in the revolutionary times, my family had to leave America because of political opinion. They went to Canada which gave them a chance to live normal lives. If they had stayed and fought, they would have been impoverished and probably persecuted, if not slain by stealth and night.

Later my grandfather came back into Michigan and raised nine children who worked hard and improved their lives and their children’s lives.

During the WWII era, we treated the Japanese Americans shamefully by interning them and stealing their property and livelihoods.

Now we see on the news the families that seek asylum from terrifying conditions and outright death from gangs in Central America, are treated as if they were a horrendous hostile horde by caging them behind chain link fences and razor wire.

Our poem at the base of the Statue of Liberty seems not to mean anything to the administration, and only rich educated immigrants are welcomed.

There was a time when we did pay attention to the cultural needs and problems of a group of immigrants.

In one case an ethnic group was housed in specially designed apartment units built with them in mind. Since that was the only home they were going to have for the rest of their lives, with no chance of returning to their native land, every effort was made to see that they had garden space, and could keep an eye on their most prized possessions, their automobiles.

In their native land they housed the stock in the middle of the village where predators could not get to them.

When we had an influx of refugees that we owed a safe place, they got free airfare and housing at Camp Pendleton.

Three hot meals a day, medical services, hygienic facilities, and smiling Marines serving up the mashed potatoes and gravy.

The NGO’s settled the large families in sponsored homes, and the children went to school with special ESL classes.

One woman who worked hard and got a higher education served as the State of California’s

GiS  Chief for Emergency Response at the California Governor’s Office of Emergency Services.

This involved dealing with disaster refugees displaced from their homes, and various social services such as FEMA.

Different administrations have dealt with the influx of large numbers of immigrants very differently, but the poem welcoming immigrants and refugees to this country does not make exceptions.

We are supposed to be a welcoming country, but Canada seems to uphold the point of the poem much better.

Writing

Writing

3/23/19

I just finished reading Mary HigginsClark’s biography, in which she tells of her life, marriage and working at writing.

I always knew it was hard work, but she was a demon for hard work, raising five children by herself, getting up at 4 a.m. to write before her regular work and parenting duties kicked in.  Myself, I like to lounge around a bit before I sit down to the empty page on the laptop.

Her life in the 1950’s and 1960’s reads like a horror story to me, as it brings back memories of Green Stamps and sexual discrimination and sheer poverty.

They showed up at the hospital for the birth of their child with under a dollar in change in their pockets. We used to turn in the glass soda bottles and search the pockets and under the car seats to scare up 19 cents for a pack of cigarets before payday.

The Green Stamp story of my life was as follows.

I had a 6 month old baby and no baby carriage or stroller, but had three filled Green Stamp books.

I caught a bus to the redemption store in mid town Oakland, and bought the cheapest, flimsiest stroller available. The kindly clerk assembled it for me so I could push Pam home the twenty blocks in the September heat.

We had a wringer washer to do the laundry, and it required quarters to operate. The outside clothesline provided free drying, and in the summer a half hour was sufficient to get a load of diapers done.

Today I notice the local laundromat requires payment by cell phone, one of those smart ones.

I felt sorry for Mary, being Catholic and popping out five kids in rapid order. Imagine having a four month old baby and find you are once more “up the spout” as the British so delicately put it.

However, being stuck with paying the bills and raising a large family on her own just seemed to kick start Mary into over drive, and she worked at her careers in radio and public relations diligently to provide educations for them all.

Her zeal at writing was pretty brave, and her thick skin provided protection from the forty odd rejection slips for her short stories.

I started out writing in the 8th grade, but as a reporter. I never ever thought I would like to write fiction, and still do not.

It is just too much bloody work.