Ideas from a Man Who Lived

As my father's life ended, he took time to sort a few things out and write down his thoughts.  Here are his words:


Believe:


Live on in memory, tradition, human kind


There is "something" in thinking pretty good, positive

• similarities in all religions

There are good spirits, vibes


The Bible is a story

• with contradictions
• lots of good advice

Christianity must be a living spirit, like the Constitution, changing with the ages


Churches must face up to temporal problems:

• divorce
• drugs
• mental illness
• aging
• death

Christ was an amazing person

A certain mysticism / ritual or ceremony is part of religious experience

Need to be a fellow traveler, helping along the way

Religion can be the opiate of the masses

If I am not myself who will be? If I am only for myself, what am I?

Churches must help with the meaning of life

Churches must present a moral & ethical path

Don't Believe:

In Heaven / Hell or life after

There are bad vibes, panic, prejudice (Editorial: I think he means they don't exist outside of us, but rather that we create them)

In the infallibility of the Pope or Bible

In pacifism like Quakers  

In celibacy like Shakers

In the parable of the talents

In eternity; even the earth will some day disappear

A Mirror of Ourselves

No matter what your political persuasion, the shooting death of Trayvon Martin is a national tragedy. For at least two families, it is a profoundly life-altering, permanent personal tragedy. If you are liberal, a conservative, pro-Obama, Tea Partier, an apathetic hipster, a soccer mom, or any other label you want to self-identify with, the death of a young man walking home from a 7-11 with Skittles and an iced tea should disturb you. If it doesn't, so be it. Click away, my fellow human being. Click away, as this essay ain't for you.

As a nation, we need to look into the mirror on this one. As I write this, I can say honestly I don't know what happened that sad night in Sanford, and neither do you. I'm not writing this to take sides on the criminality - or absence of such - of George Zimmerman's actions, from the beginning of his interaction with Trayvon to its painful, brutal conclusion. I'm not here, dear readers, to attack Florida's "stand your ground" law, its merits, its consequences intended and unintended, or its affect - real or perceived - on the safety of the residents and visitors to the Sunshine state. I'm not - in this entry - going to talk about the Second Amendment, the NRA, the Brady Bill, or other state's laws and regulations regarding gun ownership and use. And no, I'm not going to share my opinions about Florida law enforcement, and it's role in protecting all Floridians and visitors while enforcing the state's laws. All of these topics are important, and there is ample room for differing opinions, reasoned debate, and even disagreement. I hope to strike a different chord, hoping that each (any?) reader take even a few minutes to consider the humanness of Trayvon's death.

The famous Jewish proverb states, "Whoever saves a single life is as if one saves the entire world." Thus, its reverse implies that when one takes a life, the world is destroyed. Ignore, if you will, the literal meaning and focus on this simple idea; one young man's death also killed a tiny part of our collective soul. I don't know - but I doubt - if Trayvon's death was necessary. But I'm quite sure his life was necessary, a life that will never be fulfilled. Whatever promise he had, small or large, was extinguished and his family, and each of us, have been robbed of his future. He may have been a doctor or a punk, but it really doesn't matter. What matters is it was too easy, too common, too ordinary for a life to end in violence.

I again say I don't know who is at fault, and worse, we probably will never know with total surety. But that question, as important and profound as it is for the people directly and indirectly involved, is second to a more human question. Put as bluntly as I can, is anyone better served by Trayvon's death as compared to the life he lost? Are we a better country, civilization, a species ... with him alive, or with him dead? It's almost too easy to answer; he should still be with his family, and with us all. Whether he would have led a life of note or not doesn't matter a lick. He and we were robbed of ever knowing what he might have been. We all lost a little, and some have lost nearly everything.

We are our nation, we are the "We the People" our founders were writing about all those years ago. You are, I am, the libtard is, the right-winger is, the fat guy at the beach is, the chorus director at your church is ... the we in "We the People", and whether you like or hate them, we are responsible for the good and bad that goes on around us. So take some time to look in the mirror. Do you like what you see? Can you see both Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman? I can. Are you bothered by what you see? Are you proud of what you see? Can you imagine Trayvon is your son? Can you see George as you, or your husband? What would you wish for either of them, now that you are looking into their eyes? What would you change?

I see myself looking back at me, and I am Trayvon Martin and George Zimmerman. I can see the promise of each, and the wreckage of both. I see myself, and I see a culture that is too accustomed to violence. I see hope. I see failure. I see a citizen, a father, a friend, a husband, a teacher. I see a man and a country who is dying a little bit at a time, and I see hints of resignation, of acceptance. The mirror is showing me an uncomfortable truth. What is it showing you?

Dear Santa ...

Sir,

Perhaps last year around this time you read my mock article about work conditions in the North Pole? If in anyway that offended you or your elves, I express my deepest regrets. With the recent downturn in manufacturing and pressure on labor unions from big business, perhaps the timing of my post was insensitive. I'm writing today to make amends - please accept my most sincere apology.

In keeping with my sense of contrition, I am going to write a letter of thanks rather than of wants. To be honest, I have all of the things I need and want, or at least rationally could use. I have no need of, to quote from The Grinch, packages, boxes, or bags. In a season too focused on "getting", I would like to give thanks for what I have already.

First, I have a most wonderful home. It is secure, in a wonderful town full of remarkable people, many whom I call friends. Sure, it has some peeling paint, a few drafty windows, and some mismatched fixtures. But it is not a mere house; it is our refuge and escape. We all sleep peacefully, each of us surrounded by comfort. What more could I dream of?

Secondly, thank you for my son. He is perfect in every way, meaning that as far as people can be perfect, he is wonderfully real. He is healthy, optimistic, athletic, respectful, and courageous. I watch him grow with a sense of awe and wonderment, knowing that I couldn't be more blessed.

But I am more blessed, as I also am graced to be the father of a beautiful daughter. She is wise, philosophical, clever, and strong. She is emerging as the kind of young woman anyone would like to know, a balance of beauty and ability - with a slice of humility - that forebode great things. A unifier, she is not so interested in the little things like labels, fashion, or popularity. Rather, she seems to see one's soul and she measures it carefully. Woe to those who pose as something they are not!

Lastly, Santa, I give thanks for Mrs. Odds. She is beyond description as a mother, friend, and partner. We have gone down many roads together, and when I stumble, she lends me her strength. When I am angry, she is calm. When I am silly, she is patient. When I joke, she laughs, even when I'm not a funny as I think I am. She is hot, too, but as gentlemen we'll avoid the details, right?

So, as you and the elves prepare to bless the world with presents, tidings of joy, and special memories, perhaps you can give a little more to some soul other than me, as I already have the gifts I cherish most.

Respectfully,

Mr. Odd

Life and Small Things

Mr. Odds has been a busy, busy fella'. Funny how normal life can be so full of ... things to do, places to be, people to see. Tonight sort of became the night I had to at least write down, for others to know, that my cup nearly runneth over. We Odd folks just had a night out, but it was slightly more special than some other nights out.

My niece came out from the big city to stay with us, the third time she's done that this fall. When I was in college, I NEVER wanted to hang with oldies like us, but she's her own judge, jury, and executioner. What makes this small thing no such thing is how she found herself in Beantown, a freshman at one of the great schools. She got here without her dad's guidance, love, and company. Her mom clearly picked up the slack, but the deck was stacked. See, her dad's life was shortened through a barbaric act of violence six years ago (he'd be 47 for those who keep score). She could have gone off the rails, but somehow she didn't. Instead, she is a happy frosh doing the college thing, visiting her aunt, uncle, and cousins for a simple night out on the town.

For her uncle, though, it ain't no small thing. It is a miracle from the wreckage of my brothers untimely death. A mundane, everyday miracle to be sure, but nonetheless I can't believe my beautiful niece just broke bread with my two little Odds, who everyday are less little. When did she grow up? When did my own kids become so grown up? How did I get a chance to be more than an uncle to her? How lucky am I that Mrs. Odd gets it? I once hoped and prayed my niece would see us as her family, in our boring grandeur. I didn't pray for big miracles, I prayed for small ones. And this one prayer may have been granted.

I think, now, I may set my eyes higher. I pray I'm there to walk her down the isle for her wedding, or at least there to watch her mom have the honor. I pray I see her full of life, happy and fulfilled. I pray she is as whole as she can be. I pray that my brother knows I'm still here for him, doing what he should be doing. I pray that if things were different, he'd have done the same.

The Best of the Best

Perhaps you missed the big political headlines earlier this week, so let me get you up to speed. Just eighteen short months from the next presidential election, and a bevy of national Republican figures are jumping into -- and in some cases officially not jumping into -- the race to challenge President Obama.

Perhaps the biggest surprise non-candidate for the Republican nominee was former Governor Mike Huckabee. In a statement released to Faux News, Huckabee's press secretary Eileen Wright said, "The Governor decided the time to run isn't now, especially since four of the seven likely voters for the Governor moved to Idaho and declared themselves Sovereign Citizens. Additionally, polling data indicates most Americans would vote for themselves rather than waste a vote."

Following soon on the heels of Gov. Huckabee's first and probably last smart political decision, Donald "The Donald" Trump announced he, too, would not enter the fray to become the next former Republican candidate for President. Pundits on both sides of the isle speculated that Mr. Trump would indeed run, if for no other reason than to plug his show Celebrity Apprentice. But in a statement announcing his non-candidacy, he stated that he wanted to continue to make gobs of money by hawking crappy properties and manipulating the court system to, as he put it, "Bugger the working class 'til they pronounce me King of Siam." Interestingly, NBC announced it is renewing Apprentice because they litterally couldn't find any other quality programming. Apprentice will anchor NBC's fall Thursday line-up, when executives at the ailing media giant hope the show can buoy several new shows, including Lepers 'n Love, When Hairy Becomes Sally, and Erectile Malfunction: The Hans Ruffer Story. When reached for comment on Mr. Trump not joining the Repulican slate, Democratic staffers at the DNC broke into tears. Rumors continue to swirl, however, that "The Donald"'s hair is still continuing to explore a run for the White House, given that it was polling several points higher than the head it rests upon.

These two latest announcements leave RNC insiders anxious about the dwindling field. Some have expressed serious concerns that every eligible candidate is withdrawing, leaving them stuck with Sarah Palin ... again. One staffer, who asked for annonimity because of fear that Mrs. Palin would hunt her down and kill her with a big-ass gun, said, "Sarah Palin is Satan's Bride, and even Beelzebub is scared shitless by that souless harpy!" Other RNC insiders fear that the early exit of party favorites such as Haley "Even Too Redneck for Southern Men" Barbour and Mitch "Who the Hell Are You Talking About?" Daniels opens the door for former Governor Mitt Romney, who insiders worry is literate, experienced, and telegenic. Pollsters indicate likely Repulican voters prefer to vote for candidates they can identify with, which makes Romney an unsavory choice. Says one insider, "Mitt is smart, doesn't watch NASCAR, and eats with utensils; the typical Republican voter just doesn't understand that fancy college talk, neither."

The big winner of the week was, of course, Newt Gingrich. In announcing his candidacy, he spoke to reporters about character issues that have dogged him throughout his careers, especially in terms of extra-marital affairs. "I'm not perfect. At least five or six interns turned me down while I was Speaker of the House." Gingrich's wives, ex-wives, girlfriends, one-nighters, hookers, and former President Clinton all hailed the news. President Clinton was overheard praising Gingrich's move, stating, "Ha! Dogged by character issues? Newt-baby has sure dogged some characters. Maybe him winning will put the gap in my character into perspective. Huh-huh, "the gap" ... get it? The gap..."

Super Powers

I love superheroes and superpowers.  Maybe because I grew up with "The Savage Sword of Conan" and Christopher Reeves, and I was at the opening of the modern Batman series.  I love "The Watchmen" and dream of flying without mechanical assistance.  I used to imagine longingly of having a magic ring that allowed me to become invisible, especially when I was a gawking, awkward seventh grader.  I still wish I could stop time and watch "Groundhog Day", wondering what I would do with a do-over, over and over.

The other day I struck on the magic power I would want, if only one was allowed or gifted.  I've given up on flying because I have a clumsy streak.  I can see me taking off on my maiden flight and immediately crashing into a transformer or a low flying Southwest flight or a goose. Splat. Either me or the goose. And invisibility?  Kinda' creepy for a forty-something sneaking around, don't you think?  And stopping time?  I'd get older while everyone else was frozen in space.  And it would get boring and too quiet pretty quickly.

No, my superpower du jour is ... heavenly singing. First, I can't sing. At. All. Babies cry, birds fall stone dead from the sky, and loved ones reconsider their relationship with me.  Secondly, singing - music in general - universally makes people peaceful, happy, and joyous. Sure beats beating my enemies to a pulp or lopping off their heads. And lastly, I could sing myself onto American Idol.  And I'd win.

And winning is fun.

AP Newsbreak: More Question Arise from Labor Dispute at North Pole

By Yukon Cornelius, Associated Press – 1 hr 37 mins ago

Reykjavik - A civil suit was filed on behalf of the North Pole Toymakers Union in Reykjavik on Friday, alleging unsafe work conditions, racial discrimination, and animal abuse and/or misuse.  Named in the suit is the sole executive of Christmas, Inc. (CI), President of Operations and Plant Director Mr. Santa (NMI) Claus.  The filing of the civil suit follows quickly on the heels of the opening of a criminal case by Interpol, which is investigating several alleged crimes committed by Mr. Claus, including slavery, animal neglect, prostitution, harassment, breaking and entering, intentional inflection of emotional distress, and trademark and copyright infringement. It is believed charges are pending and that an arrest is imminent.  The timing of these dual actions comes at a difficult time for Mr. Claus and CI, already struggling to keep up with a changing business climate and competition from cheap labor markets in Asia.

Mr. Claus, who Interpol states has gone by several aliases during his infamous career, including the ironic Saint Nicholas, Father "Who's Your Daddy" Christmas, Kris Kringle, or simply "Santa", had no comment about the impending civil or criminal actions.  Calls to the Public Relations Office at CI were not answered or returned.  According to court filings, no attorney has been appointed for Mr. Claus in the civil suit.

Others, however, have not been so tight lipped in addressing the allegations.  Mr. King Moonracer, a popular winged lion who acts as the nearby Island of Misfit Toys' (IMT) Chief Executive Officer, was quoted recently challenging Mr. Claus's distribution system; "I was the first to utilize available technology for flying around the world each night in search of unwanted toys. Kringle illegally copied our infrastructure, adapting it for his questionable service.  Regardless of his questionable use, the system is the product of IMT and we have not received compensation for the impermissible use of our internally developed system." Moonracer further states that Kringle intentionally violates the airspace of IMT and has filed multiple complaints with the FAA, citing unsafe vehicle operation, unlicensed pilots, noise disruption ("Those damned bells!" stated Mr. Moonracer), and illegal dumping. Apparently the flying reindeer have been indiscriminate in handling their waste.

It is not only Santa's neighbors who allege misdeeds.  Perhaps the most serious allegations relate to work conditions at Mr.Claus's factory.  "It isn't a factory; it's a sweatshop," alleges one Mr. Charles Springer, now known to former colleagues as Charlie-In-The-Box. "I was pressed-ganged into service, required to keep elves contained on the work floor, using coercion and even force.  I didn't want to, but I went along because I needed the job.  Times are tough, you know. When I spoke out, I was physically restrained and placed in solitary confinement in a cell the elves refer to as 'the box'. Eventually I spoke out so often, I was deprived of my freedom for weeks at a time, earning my unfortunate nickname." The emotional pain, according to Mr. Springer, has robbed him of the ability to earn a living.  He seeks redress from Mr. Claus. "I am speaking out on behalf of the elves.  Someone has to stand up."

Mr. Springer's story is substantiated by affidavits signed by Sam the Snowman and Hank, the so-called "Tall Elf".  Neither was available to speak with reporters, but through their lawyers issued a statement, which reads, "The North Pole has changed, and not for the better.  Mr. Claus has abused his power, and seems fixated on self-gratification and personal debauchery, often seen bright cheeked (signs of alcohol abuse) and ranting 'Hoes, hoes, hoes' merrily. The whereabouts of Mrs. Claus is unknown, but Mr. Claus clearly has been keeping company with some unsavory women in her absence."

Other instances of abuse of workers is evident in the narrative of one Mr. Hermey.  Mr Hermey was initially brought to the factory to work off "immigration fees" for himself and his immediate family. "I didn't want to make toys.  I was training to be a dentist.  But that dream was taken from me," Hermey testified at a recent hearing into the matters at hand.  "My immediate supervisor was a portly and ill-tempered lackey. He wore a goatee styled to resemble Josef Stalin. He was outraged at what he perceived as my intentional, persistent disruption of the assembly line. And the music! He used to imitate Lawrence Welk's  famous introduction, "Ah one, and ah two" and sing carols all year round. It was unbearable."

Mr. Hermey recounts the tale of escaping the confines of the plant in his soon-to-be released autobiography, titled Unsaintly Nick; The Dark Underbelly of Christmas.While in the woods outside of the plant, living off of melted snow and stale cookies, Mr. Hermey met a starved, skeletal reindeer, whom he called Rudolph. "The stories Rudy told me just broke my heart. You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen? But do you recall why they are famous? They were bullies, four-legged, jack-booted thugs.  Poor Rudolph, you see, was afflicted with a red-nose, a very shiny nose. He was terribly anxious and self-conscious about it. When Rudy would get nervous or anxious, you would even say it glows. All of these dominant reindeer used to laugh and call him names. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games. Totally exclusionary behavior.  Typical playground bully crap. And Rudy's story wasn't unique. They domineered every other reindeer who aspired to elevate themselves out of poverty. They repressed any and all fair competition; they ran the whole show, with Claus's blessing. That's why they are famous and you have never heard of Rudy or the thousands of other reindeer trapped in an endless cycle of servitude and pain." More of Mr. Hermey's narrative, including his desperate escape from the frozen north, is contained in his book, available from Amazon.com on December 19th. He wouldn't comment on the fate of his friend Rudy, other than to remark that he no longer eats meat.

On the criminal side of the ledger, local police agencies have been given updated warnings from Interpol regarding Santa's potential illegal entrance into homes on Christmas Eve via the chimney. Extra police around the world will be on duty this Christmas Eve, given recent threats posted on Santa's Facebook.  In a rambling post dated last week, Mr. Claus stated, "Oh! You better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town! I'm gonna get you and your (darned) cookies, bitch. I'm making a list, checking it twice, gonna find out who's naughty or nice. Oh yeah, mother (freaking) Santa Claus IS coming to town!" With a chilling coldness, Mr. Claus finishes his missive by darkly stating, "I sees you when you're sleeping, I knows when you're awake. I knows where you live."

The sun has set on the North Pole for the year.  Clearly, the dark times facing a once proud Santa Claus won't brighten with the arrival of spring.  Facing countless legal problems, Mr. Claus's erratic behavior and poor business practices caused one insider to warn, "Jump in bed, cover up your head, 'cause Santa Claus comes tonight. And the long arm of the law is waiting!"