Those Who Stand, and Wait

Bit chilly. A little humid. 6:15 AM. Standing on a curb in the dark under a flickering street light. Peering through the shadows as 15,000 runners, walkers, joggers and wheel chair marathoners undulate past my checkpoint.

Somewhere in this seething assemblage runs the prize -- one special runner. 108 pounds of lycra, muscle, grit, and pleasing shape wrapped around a smile!

This is the vigil. Two hours of keeping watch in fifteen second increments as the throng paces it's way from dawn to daylight. The prize arrives: fifteen seconds viewing time!

There! She's smiling, moving well -- safe, no injury. And... gone!

Well then, breakfast.

Rocky Times - Dallas Boarding Gate

Jerreld David Morrow passed away a little after eight am this morning in Portland, Oregon.  (Asthma. Congestive heart failure. Diabetes. Gout. Cancer-- two kinds.) It was monumental.

Dave taught me how to dress; to be "cool", how to "take a punch." (Not my favorite lesson...), not to cry -- ever.

He drove me to college In his white Cougar XR 7 -- and unabashedly hugged me goodbye.

He thought I was a priss.  I thought him a Glamorous Outlaw, but I remained on my side of the universe.  I worked for a time in his restaurant after college, then moved on, to follow My path. He stopped speaking to me for a decade or two.  The world was a darker place.

When Dad died however, Dave came to "rescue" Mom. To his surprise, we were actually doing all right together.  He rejoined us and worked successfully at my company for eight years.

A singular compliment: he said "He thought he was pretty cool until he had the "difficult pleasure" of going to work for his little sister..."

"Difficult. Pleasure." Dave.

Life is a FIVE act play... We became less critical -- more forgiving --sharing the re-assembly of our self-importantly shattered family.  The work continues...

In the minutes since his death, the thousand threads of our relationship have appeared in torrents and coalesced -- a crashing tearful cataract.  Not cool -- but fifty seven years accumulating. An honest tribute, a "difficult pleasure."

You got there ahead of me Dave.
I'll catch up.

Jerreld David Morrow
June 1943 -- January 2010

FEAR of the DEEP END

"Everything should be as simple as possible, but not simpler."

Albert Einstein
Physicist, Nobel Laureate, Author

My adventures with water went like this: splashing, wading, breath holding, floating, kicking in the shallow end, then the Y and the dark fear of the blurry depths beneath the diving board. That one took time, but at some point, I found the courage and leaped in. "Don't stop, SWIM!", yelled the coach. Ah! The light dawned, and I was in motion. I swam, dived and proudly, became a Life Guard.

In my fascination with the pool, diving and the occasional daring rescue, I never noticed that the neighborhood kids had remained in the backyard; safely avoiding "the monsters of the deep." I invited them to the pool -- offering to teach even; but the pronouncement came back--
"We can't swim!"

I wondered, "Does "can't swim" perhaps mean, "Won't try?"

Later on, during an ocean sail, I dived over the side into the salty, cold, calm sea and with a shock and deep fear, realized that I was once again "out of my depth." It's a long way down to a bottom you cant see or even find. I conquered that fear as well, concluding that "swimming" is "What you do in water" -- no matter what the depth.

Today I'm finding that as water has "depth,"
so too do ideas.

As a child, when the conversation went to "deeper realms," I ran out to play. But increasingly, the desire for substance led me to "wade in" and hang with the elders in discussions that were clearly "over my head," but I learned to "swim" in the "sea of ideas."

I've noticed of late, that when the discussion is of scores (or scoring), everyone wades in. But when the conversation gets more complex, it's "Everyone out of the pool!"

The requests (sometimes outraged demands...) come for a "simplification"--to make the content easier. "You guys used a term I don't get, a word I never heard; a reference I've never contemplated! How dare you? Make it simpler so I can understand it!"

Perhaps they're saying "I can't swim?"

Certainly the deep end is murky, but the added color, nuance, flavor and sophistication of deeper ideas makes pursuing them worthwhile.

It can be scary to find yourself "in over your head." Yet, sounding the "deep philosophy" is an adventure -- which takes years of learning and practice --
"Hanging with the Masters."

I'm not Einstein. Yet it seems that in water and ideas, the point is not to sit there, but to dive in and learn. Don't ask to make it simpler! Ask instead how you can become deep enough to understand.

Don't just sit there, SWIM!

The Right Thing To Do

"Nothing shakes your faith in democracy like the family's three-to-two vote for fudge sundaes for breakfast."

Robert Brault

American Author

http://www.robertbrault.com/

 

Perhaps the reason health insurance (and health care) got so expensive, is the illusion that the bill would go to someone else...

You buy an insurance policy (or get one on the job...) and go to the doctor.  What he doesn’t say: “Hey this pie in the sky heart treatment is really expensive, let’s save your money and start with the basics.  And while we’re doing that, why don’t you start on a no cost walking program to get your heart stronger and pick up your metabolism?"

What he does say: “Well, your insurance will cover an angiogram, a stent, and a whole course of Lipitor.  Don't sweat the price.  You’re insured!"  

You take the whole program. The insurance pays. You get more expensive “care” and don’t have to walk. The doctor bills for two surgeries and many more appointments.  There’s also the hospital stay and the surgical staff, the anesthesiologist…  Only the insurance company tries to make ends meet -- it's a for profit business -- right?  So they raise your premium; slow down  reimbursements and deny your next claim.  The doctor wants payment up front.

Then the government get's involved.  Requires universal coverage.  Requires everyone to buy.  Then raises taxes – after all, if you can afford to buy insurance, you can obviously afford to pay premiums for a few other people. Hey, it’s the right thing to do. 

"Democracy."  It might be cheaper to walk.

Greatness at Dawn

Sunrise was “Pepto Bismol Perfect!” -- with side to side pink stripes and hazy grey between. The azure sea slowly became visible, and completed the tri-fecta color trio.

Street lights reflected off traffic cones marking separate lanes for elite runners.

The leader emerged from the mist – silent footfalls levitating body over pavement.  Leading by thirty seconds after three and half miles, he seemed weightless and ethereal.

Then the crowd; three, ten, thirty, clumps, a hundred -- a “shimmy line” of thousands, still silent, but for sponge on pavement.  Spandex, nylon; sweat, and jaws set -- eyes seeking mile markers, water stations.

In Athens, the lone runner did not enjoy a special lane, a water station, a standby physician or crowds of cheering supporters.  Thirteen thousand teammates were not yet part of the Olympic effort required to convey Victory at Marathon.  

This week in Fort Lauderdale, the Greatness at Dawn was over in six hours, but each runner can rightfully claim personal victory.  

Public sector demagogues and private sector greed cannot rob these competitors who ran in comparative silence and earned our respect.  Such personal greatness in private people will be needed in the coming time of our public decline.

The Right to Give Offense

A lot of "Calling On XXXX to resign" going around.

"Leave your job, leave your post, leave the campaign! Right Now!" ...because you offended me, and others who oppose you.

I don't get it. The point is to call it as you see it; and let the other team respond in kind. I mean, this isn't a fist fight, where a certain dignified restraint might be in order. This is politics. The right to give offense -- freely even; is baked in.

I prefer direct arguments about issues, and deem personal attacks just a silly side show. Attacking your opponent's moral character or taste (in art, whiskey, automobiles or entertainment) is as American as -- well America.

Those who feign a thin skin and a damaged self esteem resulting from a furious bout of political name calling strike me as weak -- headed. It's a strategy calculated to create offense in some soon to take up arms third party. It's politics -- but not good politics.

Wade in there and serve it up. Give offense -- Freely!
No foul! Now get over it; and get on with the real discussion.

We've got work to do.

Ray's Big Idea

“Ray Norman” was a figure of affection and scorn, being our town's “bright idea” guy. He suggested my Dad dig a drainage ditch and line it with concrete perforated pipe to guide runoff water away from the house and out to the sewer. "Hell of an idea!" He also came up with a smart way to use half an aluminum anti-freeze can as a tool for serving up wall board “mud” right on the tape. "Genius!"

Ray couldn’t seem to get on top of his debt. Dad bought him more than a few dinners; helped sometimes with the rent. A couple of odd jobs, and a great heart, but he was simply unable to stem the leak in his pocket. People knew that in a tight spot Ray would be there first -- working after dark if the power went down. Calling the shots as a crew erected a new power pole. "Reliable Ray!" But dedicated as we all were to finding jobs for Ray; church collections and covert contributions, He just couldn’t catch up. It wasn’t a big scandal that several families, the church and the bank had been carrying Ray for years over a larger and larger balance-in-arrears.

One might have foreseen the outcome: One night at a Town Hall, Ray suggested we “pool our resources” and invest in a real estate scheme to buy up vacant land in advance of a fancied “development group” that had big plans for our future. Someone called the question: “Who shall we get to honcho this thing?” “Why, obviously, we should prevail upon Ray for that mission!” opined Vernon, the Banker. Still laughing, we all went home.

We never saw Ray again.

Ingenious, good hearted, public spirited even; but he couldn't handle money.

"The best government is that which governs least."

^{Variously attributed to Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Paine and Henry David Thoreau. Also used as the motto of the publication The United States Magazine and Democratic Review.}

With apologies to Steve Martin and to our historical forefathers; Governments don't "Get Small." But perhaps they ought to.

Historically, there are two radically opposed perspectives about the role of government: The Left and the Right. Liberal and Conservative.

Liberals say government exists to guarantee equality of all citizens. They advocate limiting liberty somewhat and spending to make all people equal. Guarantees are expensive! Those in the greatest need have little or no money. Those with greater reserves are forced to pay -- and pay. As it turns out, those with money constitute a minority. So the majority rules that the minority should fund the system that holds them back to "equal" status.

Conservatives say government exists to guarantee equal opportunity. That from the start there will be people of greater and lesser ability -- but in a system with guaranteed liberty, everyone has the same opportunities to rise. Government "maintains a level playing field" acting as a "disinterested referee." Limited government means that people have great liberty and wildly varying degrees of attainment. We have the same freedoms, but our different abilities will inevitably result in different results. Government mostly keeps the peace, mostly settles differences -- and keeps minorities safe from majorities - mostly. Lots of freedom. Lower taxes.

So much for the ideals. (Have you picked a side yet???) Gotcha!

These ideals are merely that -- ideals. But they serve as a diversion which keeps people of good intentions arguing about which party and approach is best.

In the real world -- there is no real choice. As it turns out -- politicians of both parties are equally disingenuous -- their hands in the cookie jar -- driving up expenditures buying the loyalty of their constituents. No government, at the hands of either party -- gets smaller.

We're at -- or very close to -- the point of no return. What the government collects cannot cover expenses. Raising taxes can't solve it. The politicians are shouting slogans while attempting to get one last shot at the free food until the Chinese decide to drop the dollar.

When we're out of credit, we stop spending and pay the debt. We don't eat out. And we don't buy new cars. Oh, and we don't look for a government bailout. Bernie Madoff was arrested for doing what the US Government is doing. A little more equality all round please!

Shouldn't we grow up, recognize that what works at home can work in Washington; and "Get Small?"

The Monster in the White House

No not the President -- the Situation Room!

The monster lurks - silent and invisible; slowly working is terrible effect on the people living and working in the White House. Call it the "Military/Political /Diplomatic Mindset." The cultural stew into which the newly elected President is thrown -- to continually marinate while surrendering any conflicting attitude or character trait.

Consider -- the President might be a nice, thoughtful, educated and well intentioned guy from Chicago. OK, he wants to "spread the wealth around," but he's still not an evil being. Yet even before he's elected, the Secret Service envelopes him in a cloud of protective security. And while it protects his person, it also begins to numb his creativity and any consideration that there are ways of using power other than those which are presented by the Military/Political/Diplomatic Mindset. Once in office, the "Man with the Football" is within a few yards at all times -- to say nothing of the detachment of Full Dress Marine Guards, saluting regularly. He is after all, Commander in Chief.

These realities alone would be enough to influence the perspective of a Zen Monk, let alone a freshman party politician from the south side.

Add to this the elimination of access to friends, former colleagues and everyday conversations (both personal and overheard...) at Starbucks. But this is only the beginning.

Next step on the road to complete unreality is the descent into hell -- the Situation Room.

"Something has Happened -- Somewhere in the World" and it has created a "Situation." Some crazed jiihadist Mullah has instigated a plan and blown up a building using a mind-blown illiterate mule with a C-4 suppository. Within hours, the A Team has assembled in the Situation Room to "Present the Options" to the President. He leaves the residence, walks down to the West Wing basement, paying no attention to the attentive staff, or hovering aides. He presents his palm to the ID system, enters the room and waits while the entire team "Stands to Attention." The Freshman Senator has come a long way via a family home in Chicago, thru a bachelor apartment in Washington, to the Oval Office -- and it has changed him -- so much so that he doesn't blink an eye at the room full of brass standing and waiting to present the options on his order.

At his nod, the presentation begins. "Mr. President, Something has happened. Here's the What, Why and How. Here's how it got past us. (Later we'll get to who screwed up...) Here's what we suggest by way of response. These are the options."

How will he react to a room full of experienced Military/Political/Diplomatic hands -- in full uniform -- suggesting three potential options? Will he say, "No?" Would you?

He will do something. And that "Something" will have been conceived and suggested by the Military/Political/Diplomatic machinery of the White House. Not one of the professionals in the room will suggest that the mighty United States do something simple or inexpensive. Nobody in the Situation Room will observe that bombs, aircraft, weapons and money cannot eliminate poverty and ignorance or educate women in Afghanistan -- because The Monster doesn't trade in education. The Monster serves itself -- and it bends all of us to its' will. The Monster also has a powerful knee jerk reaction to provocation -- the tendency to see everything through its own lens of Military/Political/Diplomatic intervention. The choices to do nothing; to not intervene or to intervene with food, agriculture and education are not going to be presented.

The Proposition here is that the system may well be the real enemy. The system reduces a quiet, introspective, soulful guy to "a Maker of Choices" among the options the system manufactures. He's proud and excited about "being in charge," yet he doesn't realize that he's already been digested. The system sees "problems" in the world and the system proposes solutions. As the system continues promoting itself, the potential opportunity for creativity and real cultural evolution is the latest victim of The Monster in the White House.

Confusion in the Promised Land

Growing up, I celebrated the Fourth of July with flags on my handlebars. The culture -- outlined from stories told at school, at home, on the National Holidays, at my father's knee; examining his Army uniform and building a frame for his medals -- was a culture of great freedom/ balanced with great responsibility. We were free to pursue our happiness -- but we had to finance it on our own, while we discharged our responsibilities. We were free to have fun in our spare time.

People fought for this! Died for this. So take care of everything, family self, health, home, neighborhood, community -- then knock yourself out! Have a ball! Run, Compete, Do a Shakespeare Play, become a politician. this is America! But the underlying cultural structure was not license or entitlement. It was anything you can afford with your allowance or what you can earn selling papers and pizzas. Freedom AND Responsibility.

I got through college -- Mom and I managed that. Her with a secretarial job and me selling shoes. Her duty was to her child and my duty was to keep her trust and become a big success. A Deal! And it worked! It does work. Thirty years later, I can verify that everything I was taught, worked like a charm.

Now I'm pushing sixty. And I don't see the duty, the decorum, the dedication or the sense of community and responsibility that so characterized my growing up time. Perhaps we've lost our commitment to anything we have, do or create together. The individual freedoms that made it possible for me to realize my dreams seem to have allowed our "nation" to evolve into a "rabble" of self absorbed individuals -- all with their hands out. And the political class seems to be pandering to the consideration that the people have the freedom and the government has the responsibility to support jobs, insurance, law enforcement and global democracy for everyone on the planet. It'll never work. The current model has separated the two bookends which together make for a meaningful life, family, community and country. Freedom and responsibility -- the two things have to come in a matched set -- living in the heart of each individual.

I hold these truths to be self-evident:

1. There's not enough money in the world for everyone to have everything they want, not even everything they need. It's a tough world out there, and it is the enterprising, aggressive and untiring few who will win the the biggest prizes.

2. The political class does not create anything! The politicians take through taxes -- from those who created wealth. Politicians are catering to the mistaken beliefs of the electorate. They are not being responsible, because we are not being responsible. You can't have what you did not earn. (Even if you steal it, you won't be able to keep it...) This crazy, irresponsible political class will prove that you can bankrupt the United States.

3. It won't go away until we make it go away. Nobody else is responsible for our lack of community. We have to start right here in our own homes and neighborhoods, to re-create the kinds of communities we desire.

I believe that those of us old enough to remember these realities should perhaps shoulder the burden of teaching what we know to be true to our children and our neighbors... one last time before we lay aside the burden and leave for the far shore.

Define "Recovery"

Everyone's positively perky about our prospects of late.

"Recovery in Bloom!"

Let's define our terms.

My portfolio is still short of two years ago. Our business is in reduced circumstances. The town is overspent. Mom is still retired and living on her portfolio returns -- a little less well of late. Real Estate is upside down here. The bank teller is working through her lawsuit with the builder from whom she bought two condos pre-construction in hopes of flipping them at the close. Instead, she's attempting to void the contract and save her home. The nation is in debt, and issuing bonds to pay. Our clients are in shock, and plainly "mental."

Personal, Professional, Local, State, Federal -- all in very different; but drmatically reduced circumstances.

So this is "Recovery."

I'm really looking forward to "Robust Health!"