Catherine, a tale of shipwreck

In the early morning hours of August the twenty fifth in the year 1851 the ship Catherine was just off of Amagansett. She was carrying a cargo of freight and about 300 immigrants. She was on her way to New York city but instead floundered. The passengers were saved and loaded onto a steamer named the Achilles. You could say Amagansett proved to be the Achilles heel of the Catherine. She broke up in the surf and was unable to be salvaged. The captain, a man whose last name was Hasselton and his wife stayed in Amagansett. The Captains wife was gravely ill and would soon die. What became of the Captain after that is not recorded. Surely he had to face a maritime panel to explain this tragedy.
At least three other passengers in the historic record more is known about. A gentlemen named Patrick Lynch was headed for the California gold mines but decided to remain were he had shipwrecked. Maybe he did not wish to tempt fate a second time. He stayed his whole in Amagansett. But it is a brother and sister that are of particular interest to me. The boys name is lost to time but it is believed he was sent to a foundling home  in New York City. His sister was named Catherine. She was adopted by a local family. Mr. John Strong and his wife Mary. Mary was an Edwards and her family were noted sailors. Perhaps that contributed to their compassion for the young girl. There is no record of her parents or a guardian accompanying them.That is a mystery and we will probably never know the answer.
Catherine was to grow up and marry. She married Lyman M Bennett. Lyman came from a very old family. In fact one of the founding families for the entire town. Amagansett is a hamlet in the town of East Hampton. What is the interest I have in all of this ?  Well Lyman M Bennett is son to Lyman Beecher Bennett. Lyman Beecher Bennett is sister to Mary Ann Bennett,and Mary Ann Bennett is mother to Horace Floyd Bennett and he is my maternal grandfather ! That makes that little girl, Catherine, my great grand aunt. Now how cool is that ? You could say she was a castaway. Shipwrecked and separated from her brother she persevered.
Catherine left Dublin bound for America. At least the ship Catherine left Dublin but exactly where Catherine and her brother boarded I can't say. She was accompanied by a brother that we know of, and who was responsible for them ? I do not have an answer for that. That she was separated from her brother is fact. Why was that ? Why was Catherine adopted by John Strong and her brother was not ? So many questions.Well another tiny piece to the past has been uncovered. Most of this information came from the East Hampton Star and another newspaper whose name escapes me at the moment. All I did was put some pieces together to discover the identity of John Strong. I think I have that nailed down and know who Catherine was. There is speculation that her maiden name was Minturn.
Another interesting coincidence. For many years my Grandparents on my fathers side were unknown to us. Turns out her name was Catherine. Catherine Gaffga. Catherine is a popular name. I don't think I'll name a ship that though. 

How long remembered

I have in my possession a small case containing two pictures. These photographs were the property of my Great Grandmother. The pictures are her grandfather and granduncle. Both were off shore whalers. Great Grandmother Lucy, Mrs Floyd Lester, included a hand written note telling who they were. No other details were included. I have kept them safe for years and enjoy them.
I have been using a free service called active paper. Active paper allows you to search and view newspapers that have been archived. What a wonderful source of information for those of us doing genealogy and for history buffs. I was searching the East Hampton Star, a local newspaper, using the search term Northwest. I lived in Northwest while growing up and have lately taken a historical interest in the location. Funny how you could know so little about your own back yard, but I digress. So I begin to read an article from the East Hampton Star dated Feb 12, 1959. I was five years old in '59 and so didn't recall having seen this article before. It was a story about the last whales taken off of East Hampton. In the article were a few pictures. One shot showed three older gentlemen, trying out the whale. For those of you that may not know what that means, it simply means cutting the whale up and processing it. One of those men in that photograph is my great great great grandfather ! Abraham Miller King, grandfather to Lucy Lester my great Grandmother. Pretty cool stuff. A little further on and there is a picture of him again. This time it is the exact picture that I have ! In the article the reporter states that the picture is a daguerreotype and was taken by Mr. Issac S van Scoy of Northwest. He says it is the first time this picture has ever been published and was loaned to him by Mr. Floyd Lester. The year the photo was taken is not known but Abraham was probably in his twenties. Mr van Scoy passed away in 1846 so it was before then. That is as much as that article says.
Now, if you recall I said there were two pictures in there. The other picture was his brother, Oliver Gibson King. Oliver was born in 1824. I have not discovered the date of his passing. The picture from the star was dated 1902. I know that Abraham passed away that year, perhaps Oliver was already gone. But that is a question I seek the answer to. Olivers' picture was not in the paper  I'm betting that picture has never been published. Perhaps I'll send a follow up piece to the East Hampton Star.
I have those little photographs taken so many years ago. Were they originally taken as a gift to their mother ? It would seem a likely prospect. Their Mom would have been Rachel Edwards born 1760 died 1838. Their Dad, Richard had passed in 1797. There were many other brothers and sisters but these two went whaling. The quest continues. As I look at those photographs and begin to know something about them I feel a little more connected. Can you remember those you never knew ? In a way, I think you can. The pictures we take are to capture memories, are they not ? We need only unlock them.

                                                 Oliver on the left,Abraham on the right. 

Clandestine Communication

My Morgan,my granddaughter will be twelve in September. Holy Cow ! What does she want ? Her own phone. Well, being my little princess I immediately went to the internet and checked it out. Yup, they still make the princess phone. She is in luck. I did some reading and checking up on it. That phone was introduced in 1959 and is still in production. Oh, some changes and improvements have been made over the years but the basic design is still there. Did you know the original didn't have a ringer ? There wasn't enough room for one. In 1963 they started making a touch tone version. It only had ten push buttons on it, they hadn't included the * or pound sign yet. Of course now we call it a hashtag. Wonder why that is ? Couldn't we just as easily say, pound sign telephone or whatever ? I don't know I had to look hashtag up on Google to understand it.
Seriously though she does want her own phone now. Nowadays that is quite a different thing from the old princess phone. A completely separate phone line, that is really not a line at all, and may or may not include text and data. Picture taking optional and the phone may or may not be smart. So many choices and the cost. A bit different than adding an extension back in '59. I never knew any girl that had her own dedicated phone line in her parents house. Heard of that, but it was more legend than fact. My sister just had to take her calls in the kitchen. That is where the phone was mounted to the wall. It did have a long cord to permit moving about, although that cord sure did get tangled up. It was the only phone in the house. Grandmas phone was a desk model that sat in the parlor.
Well some things never change. Young girls still want a phone. The design of the phone may be different, the very purpose of having the phone may have changed, but the feeling of independence has not. Isn't that what it really represents ? Independence,freedom and a measure of privacy. It is expected today, and almost mandatory. It certainly isn't surprising to find a child of almost any age with a phone nowadays. It is like e-mail. Everybody has e-mail right ? I mean you do have an address. You know one thing I read about the princess phone that amused me, the dial lighted up. It was advertised as acting as a night light and allowed dialing in the dark too. Clandestine communication was popular back in '59 and continues to be so. No change there. Except maybe our calls are being recorded, one never knows. Well that is a different matter altogether.
I expect Morgan is a little behind the curve when it comes to this phone business. Most of her friends already have them. It is just a sign of the times , these modern trappings of adolescence. I had a pocketknife and a shotgun. That is what I wanted and most guys my age wanted that also, or a new bike. A drivers license was still top prize and having your own car the ultimate expression of independence ! I never thought about having a phone, that was a girl thing. I think that has changed, but don't know for sure. Something for a sociologist to study there. Some things really never change.

Where the deer and buffalo roam

I grew up on Long Island. East Hampton to be exact. The area of town I lived in was called nor'west. Down to nor'west woods in the local vernacular. I played in those woods and became quite familiar with them. I don't know the exact size of the area but they were my " hundred acre woods. " I had many adventures in there. I had several " forts " scattered throughout the wood. The largest animal in those woods would be deer. That's it. Nothing larger than that and nothing dangerous. No poisonous snakes or any animal to be concerned about.
Back in those days there was a lot I wasn't aware of about those woods. As is often the case you are ill informed about what is in your own backyard. I wasn't aware that there was once a thriving seaport down to nor'west. Whaling ships and merchant ships coming and going. A thriving little community. I didn't know that ended about 1885 or so. In 1873 there were sixteen farm houses and a public school there, an old map shows that. I was unaware of any of that. There was even a mill built there alongside Hands creek. All of that was long gone by the 1960's. In less than a hundred years it had all gone back to wood. A long wharf was built in Sag Harbor on the opposite bank of the bay and that spelled the end of nor'west. Commerce died and so did the settlement. Now I find that my own Grandmother lived there at one time. At some point in the early part of the twentieth century. I have ancestors buried there.
I have begun doing some research on the area. I have read some books about it and the local newspaper has articles in their archives. This research is in it's early stages. I have already discovered something that I found quite interesting. There were once a herd of buffalo done to nor'west. A rather wealthy and prominent citizen of the town of East Hampton, Mr. David Gardiner, had them brought from the west. He owned a large tract of land there and those buffalo roamed free there. I was just surprised to hear that I lived where the " deer and buffalo " roamed ! Who knew ? I discovered that those buffalo bred with the local cattle and were called catalo. Many years later Canadian scientist would repeat that feat. Unfortunately in both instances the catalo were unable to reproduce.
It was this same Mr. Gardiner that secured a new home for my Grandmother. I was recently corrected on that point. Previously I thought it was a Tommy Gardiner. It is quite the tale actually. Now grandmother Bennett worked for the gardiners on their island. Yes the Gardiners own there own private Island and have done so for 375 years but that is another story. Anyway, the story goes that Grandmother was working on the island and had her baby with her, my Aunt Edith. Aunt Edith was looking out an open window with her pacifier in her mouth. A buffalo wandered up to the house and startled her. She dropped her pacifier out that window and ran crying to Grandma. The buffalo stole her pacifier and she never got it back. At least that is the story I was told.
So much history I missed out on. If I had only asked more questions or listened more carefully back then. I am finding that history isn't just the significant events that took place. In fact the history I find most interesting is the little personal histories. The everyday things from years ago fascinate me. I knew of a big hollow alongside the Springy Banks road growing up. I didn't know it was a buffalo wallow ! Pretty cool if you consider it was probably the only buffalo wallow on Long Island or maybe even the East Coast. Well that might be an exaggeration as I have heard of Buffalo at Montauk but not sure of the year. The wallow at Springy Banks is probably the oldest though. There is a "dreen" right off of Springy Banks called soak hide. It was so named because the local Indians, opps Native Americans, soaked their hides there. It was part of the curing process. I knew about that as a kid and now wish I had explored that further. Ah well, live and learn. There is a lot of history in our own backyard if we but look. Very cool stuff.

Quality Time

As many of you reading this posting already know I love my perked coffee in the morning. The mixture of taste,aroma and nostalgia is indeed a pleasant sensory experience. It is more work and requires patience as well, but worth the effort. And isn't that the way it is with a lot of things ? More work,more effort and patience required, but the results are worth the effort. With all our modern conveniences and products readily available and ready made, are we missing out ? I think we may be. We are missing out on the appreciation of the finer points. Finer goods does not equal a finer life. It is the little things that count.
We all have heard how fast life is these days. There is truth to that. Years back life was a bit more relaxed. Well maybe not relaxed, but we were in more control I believe. We did not rush. Quality takes time is one of my favorite expressions. Time and attention to the details ( those little things ) is what creates quality products and a new phrase we hear often, "quality time." Now isn't that a telling statement ?
"Quality time" (QT) is an informal reference to time spent with close family, partners or friends that is in some way important, special, productive or profitable.
So then what is the other time in the day ? The rest is poor quality or shoddy ? Wasted time ? We certainly don't have time to waste. It would seem that we are mistaking quantity for quality. The mark of the modern man. Do more,do it faster, and do it more often. Shouldn't all our time be quality time ? I think we should strive for that. If everyone did that what a change it would be. People would start caring more for each other, wanting that time to be productive. Instead of just trying to get through the day we would enjoy the day. What a concept. A concept we sacrificed in the name of productivity. Faster,faster we must go faster. Even when it comes to our pleasures we want it faster,sooner and without delay. Instant coffee ? A perfect example.
I admit to disliking that phrase, quality time. There is just something about it that grates. It sounds fabricated to me. I do not think you can measure the value of time. Time is a gift. I can not make my time more or less valuable or improve the quality of time. What I can do is work on increasing the value of my interactions with others. Giving others more time and attention,paying attention to their needs as much as my own. Now that will create quality. Takes time and patience though. You have to work at it. You can't rush in. Just like that perked coffee. The pot may be done perking but you need to let it steep for a bit. Allow the coffee to drain completely through the grind. Only then will you reap the true flavor. Works the same way with most everything if you think about it. There is nothing quite as satisfying as good results. 

I guess it all depends upon what measure you choose to use. I am happier with a few quality items rather than a houseful of junk. I am happier with a few close friends rather than a gaggle of would be,sometimes,when it suits me, acquaintances. Quality not quantity. We hear it all the time but how often do we think about it ? All our time is quality time and should be used as such. The quantity of time we have is limited but not the quality. That may be the lesson we have forgotten. Or is it a lesson we fail to teach anymore ? Those " old fashioned " values ?  

Grandmother Bennett

Grandmother Bennett was an immigrant. Sent to this country to care for a sick aunt. Whether she had the desire to leave her own land or not is not known to me. I do know she came here unable to speak the language and in possession of 16 dollars. That was in 1899 when she was 16 years old. Grown up back in those days. By 1909 she was married to Grandfather Horace. Ten children later, in 1974 she left this earth, perhaps to return to Sweden.
I spent many happy hours with her in her little home on the Springs Highway. That house was originally a  " way " station on the road to Montauk. It was a place to stop and rest the horses and get a bite to eat. A prominent citizen of the town , Mr. Tommy Gardiner , secured that home for her and had it moved to that small piece of property. The property is located in the fork of the highway. The front door opened to the Springs-Fireplace Road and the opposite end of the house faced the Three Mile Harbor Road. Before that Grandmother Bennett lived down to Northwest but that was long before my time.
I do recall Grandmother Bennett having a little Swedish flag. It sat in a cup on the shelf in her dining room. She would sometimes speak of Sweden but rarely. I detected no accent in her voice. Of course I was just a kid and she was grandma, Nana I called her and still do.
Looking back over the years, and knowing the things that I do now, I know her life was not an easy one. I'm quite certain America didn't turn out the way she had hoped for or been told that it would be. Surely she must have longed for her homeland and the friends and family there. Oh she had family here in America but rarely did she see them. She went to visit a brother, at least once that I know of, and one came to visit her. I am told that Grandmother was a bit ashamed of her little home and the things she had there. Apparently her brothers were very successful people and lived a finer lifestyle. Who knows ? I do know that she raised ten children in a three bedroom home heated by a coal stove and kerosene parlor stove. I do know that she " took in laundry " as a means of support. I also know Grandfather Bennett was, shall we say, lacking in the responsibility department. He passed before my birth and so I can not speak much about him. I can only repeat what I have been told.
One hundred fifteen years has passed since Grandmother Bennett walked through Ellis Island. All but one of her children have passed on. The little house is gone now, burned sometime in the 1970's by vandals and later sold. The number of her ancestors even I do not know for sure. I have been working on the family tree for years but gaps exist. The number of lives she touched on this soil is immeasurable. She is laid to rest in the local cemetery, Cedar Lawn, is its' name. I often think about her and her life. Did she have regrets ? I'll get the chance to ask her someday, if I prove worthy. There is no doubt in my mind that she is home. 

Actions to thoughts

One of the more difficult tasks we have in life is to do what is right. To do right repeatedly, without acknowledgement, is even harder. The act of doing what we know to be right should be enough to satisfy us but it seldom does, we want credit. I believe this is a universal trait of the human race. We always want something in return. Our actions are guided by this principle of reciprocity. Is this a shortcoming ? In some circumstances it certainly could be and in others a benefit. Why, even the golden rule says do unto others as you would have others do unto you. An exchange has taken place. We do seek acknowledgement of that exchange.
I have done things for others without their knowledge. Little things that may have made a difference. I have done things for strangers,friends and family. I admit to thinking about these small acts and wishing for credit. In times of anger I have been tempted to tell the other person what I have done. There are times when I feel guilt for having these thoughts. Does not the Bible and my faith tell me to help others, unselfishly. Isn't it selfish to want that credit ? Does it make a difference if you do what is right and it goes unknown to others ? Showing pity and compassion is the hallmark of the pious. If we seek credit and accolades for those actions are we truly pious ? That is the question I struggle with. If I do things, no matter how compassionate and caring, with the intent to gain something for myself, does it count ?
Doing right for the sake of right. A noble sentiment. The Bible speaks of this. Jesus warns us of the trials and tribulations facing the Christian. We are told to remain strong in the faith,in the hope and the promise. We are told we will receive credit for it. Eternal life is the prize. We are told that only God need know of our righteousness. I believe that to be true, for it is his judgement alone that we must answer to. Then why do we seek this acknowledgement, from mere mortals, on earth ? I would say it is for reassurance. Insecurity and doubt are human failings. So does it follow that each time I feel this way it is a sign of doubt ? Perhaps only a doubt in my own self worth. But why should that be when I know all that I have done ? That is the enigma. The answer lies in the cost. How much is the cost of eternal salvation ? If we knew that answer we could just save up for it. That has been addressed by, if I may paraphrase, lay not up for yourself stores on earth but in heaven. We do not know the cost. Should we be counting ? The answer would have to be no. Doing what is right, in our hearts, is all we need be concerned with.
It is a difficult thing. This desire for others to know and acknowledge our good deeds. I do not like the feeling but it is there. This is a different feeling from feeling used. We all have experienced that I am sure. No, this is my personal choice to do whatever. Then, having done it, feeling compelled to tell of the deed. Wanting credit for my own choice ? That is what I am talking about here. Sometimes actions lead to thought. If you think about it, that makes perfect sense. We have been doing that since birth. And we always want the credit for making the right choices. It is just being human. 

Making decisions

Abraham Lincoln famously said, " folks are usually about as happy as they make up their minds to be, " It is hard to argue with that logic. Old Abe probably didn't make that thought up, just put it in a way that made sense to the common man. I think that is what the appeal of Lincoln truly was. He had a way of saying things so you could understand his thoughts. He spoke with you, not to you.The best speakers and authors tell you what you already know,especially when you don't know it. That is why we like them so much, it is like listening to ourselves. Normally you won't get much of an argument from yourself.
It is true that happiness has to be a decision. There are so many reasons we can find to be displeased,angry,upset,disgruntled and just plain cranky. The fact of the matter is we don't need to find these reasons, they find us. We often hear people say they are searching for happiness.Happiness is always within our grasp. We just have to decide to be happy. As with anything else, with practice it becomes easier. Without being aware of it, it can develop into habit. Not all habits are bad.
Lincoln said you just have to make up your mind. Make the decision to be happy and you will be. Seems obvious enough when you say it that way. It is not as difficult as one would imagine. There is another saying, misery loves company, that is equally as true. I don't know who is credited with saying that, but I think they had the same insight. To me, understanding that opens the door to happiness. I can decide with whom I wish to associate. I have observed that happiness requires a bit more effort to maintain and offer no explanation for that. Just a mystery in life.
Dolly Parton wrote these words, " you are poor only if you choose to be " in her song a coat of many colors. That is expressing the same thought. It is a decision on our part. If we allow others to tell us how we should feel that is how we will feel. We need to decide for ourselves. Happiness is a decision, so is wealth it all depends upon what you decide. Acceptance is a decision based on belief. When we accept something we have decided that it is correct. Holds true for everything, even the existence of God. Acceptance can not be imposed, only compliance. They are different things altogether. When we "make up our minds" what is it that we are doing ? We are deciding how to form our thoughts. Our thoughts then control our actions. Simple enough, right ? Well it does take practice. A while back I decided that I wanted to die healthy. I mean it is going to happen some day, that is inevitable, might as well be healthy when I do. I would also add I want to die happy. That is a decision. Yup, that is what I will do. I've made up my mind.

Expatitation, on life

At what point would focus become obsession ? Is it when the focus of your attention is concentrated to the exclusion of everything else ? That would seem easy enough to understand and recognize. Conversely what is the point where a lack of focus is causing a lack of progress ? Another question of balance, Balance is something I find myself questioning,a lot. Too much and too little.
I do believe we need to live a focused life. We should live with an awareness of our goals, not necessarily an awareness of our purpose. Our purpose is the big question that we all struggle with. As to whether we can ever know that purpose I reserve judgement. If we can would that not then become an obsession ? Shouldn't it be  ? All of that is the thing we should pray about and seek guidance on. Our purpose will be fulfilled whether we are aware of it or not. Yes, I believe in fate and destiny. Just as in science, every action has an opposite and equal reaction, we may not agree with the action, but the result is what is important. I can not help but believe it has all been anticipated and taken into account.
Focus is what I am talking about. As I said I do believe we should lead a focused life. Keep your eye on the prize as the saying goes. The decision we all need to make is what to focus upon. Some choose to focus on the gaining of wealth. Others may choose to focus on raising children, art, writing, careers or serving the God of their choosing. It is all a matter of focus. Should our focus be upon what we want or need ? We are all told otherwise, are we not ? To focus upon yourself is just selfish. It is if it impacts others. That is when we think of it as an obsession. At least in others we do.
Recognizing that in ourselves is a bit more difficult. You can become obsessed with doing for others and that obsession prove detrimental. Will those that benefit from this obsession object ? Only in limited circumstances. If they truly love and care about you they will.
So just how much are we allowed to focus upon ourselves ? In one way you could say it depends upon those around you. How much do they require of you ? Do they rely on your focus ?  How much does that cost you in terms of personal focus ? Do you pay that price willingly or grudgingly ? We are taught that we should put the needs of others before our own. Isn't that love ? When we desire something for ourselves, regardless of cost, financially or emotionally, we say we love it. But isn't that a selfish thing ? Is love selfish ? Only when you become obsessed with it.
We have been told and tell our children to pursue their ambitions,dreams and goals. How aggressively should that be done ? Certainly not to the exclusion of others. I think  perhaps that is the struggle we all face in life. The decision to focus upon ourselves. It could be that by allowing ourselves to focus upon our needs and desires we will ease the struggle. Will we then enable fate and destiny to rule ? No, we can not control either. We must learn to live with it. Is there a balance in all of this ? I would only say this, there is right and wrong.
If we do what we know in our hearts to be right, it is so. If we do what we know is wrong in our hearts, it is so. Focus is tied to purpose. Decide what you want your life, your presence on this earth to represent and act accordingly. I just want to live a good life and to be remembered for that. That is enough and a source for focus. You may want something different. There is right and wrong, good and bad, and each of us must decide. Opinions vary. A final question. To whom do we owe devotion ?  

Monitoring the situation

I went to orientation at the middle school last evening. I had been before, with Mark, but it was Morgans turn. It was all pretty much the same .We met the teachers and listened to the principle speak. The principle introduced the School Resource Officer. This is new addition at Lockerman middle school. A full time police officer ! I know all about this trend at schools across the country. The assigning of a police officer to the school. But now, it has hit Lockerman. Is his primary purpose to protect the students from outside threats, or from each other ? That gives me pause for thought. I agree with the necessity to have one, and fully support that decision. I just can't help but think the state of affairs that lead us to this need. It is a sorry reflection upon our society. It is tarnish on the once shining star of America and it saddens me. Just how have we gone from the " hall monitors " to a full time police presence ? Is this progress ?
Government should not be involved in education. That was recognized by the founding fathers. It is not part of the powers of any branch of our government. That was by design. When the Department of Education was established and government funding began to be funneled into the system things began to go off track. That is often the case with any program. If you want the money you must comply with certain rules. They will label them " standards " standards sound better. Failure to comply cuts the funding. Now you have the government agencies controlling the curriculum. This has become blatantly obvious with the institution of common core and Michelle Obamas nutrition program. And now the introduction of the police department. Is this the start of the police state ? Maybe I am just over reacting. We do need the police presence for the safety of all. It is just that it hit home with the installation of that program, and that is what it is, at the local middle school. They already had it at the high school.
I have written of conditioning. Is this another way to condition our children, the future of America, into a system of government regulated and police controlled society ? School is a society on its' own. Our schools are a reflection of our society in general. Have we progressed to locked doors and police protected environments ? It would certainly seem so.
Well it is just the observations of an aging American. An American longing for a time lost. A time when we went to class, said the Pledge and had a morning prayer. In the hallways we were aware that there was a hall monitor, but seldom did that monitor act. For the most part it wasn't necessary. This was a time when no one brought or had weapons stashed in their lockers. We were more concerned with what was cool than in killing each other ! Guess we were just old fashioned. Now the "hall monitor " wears body armor and is fully armed. He wears a belt that Batman would be envious of. I remember the time when that belt was a white one that crossed over your heart. That was the symbol of authority. Tines Change.

Conditioning

Mental health specialists, what we called shrinks not so many years ago, speak of conditioned emotional responses. These conditioned responses occur individually, as well as in entire populations. I had read a short article about this. The theory is that you, or a population, can be conditioned to respond in a certain fashion. It is really quite a simple concept. Monkey see, monkey do essentially. Then these conditioned responses become the norm. Oh it does become a bit more complicated than that involving morals,values and such. Peer pressure as well as societal acceptance figures into the formula as well.
Now having read this article and then turning on the evening news I connected the two. The events in Ferguson Missouri, among others, lead me to believe in this conditioned emotional response. It would seem that we are being conditioned to respond in certain fashions. We are being conditioned to protest anything we perceive as unjust. From a police involved shooting, to something as mundane as a fashion choice. Are we conditioning our children to respond in this fashion ? Protest,strike and riot in the streets ! In personal relationships we confront,bully,degrade and divorce. Listening and attempting to understand is being conceived as weak. Action must be taken immediately, even if it is the wrong action.
The most insidious response being conditioned into our society today is the pressing for a secular society. The removal of religion from our lives and our government. I hear the cries of separation of church and state. It was written into the constitution, it is in the bill of rights and all that. All that is true but let us not forget a simple fact, we are,always have been a Judeo Christian society ! Our form of Government, a constitutional republic, unique in the world, is based upon Judeo Christian beliefs and principles. Remove that from society and government and what do you have ? You do not have America .Yet we are being conditioned to accept just that as normal. In fact we are being conditioned to believe that all the amoral behaviors supported by a secular society are acceptable,even desirable. We are being conditioned to be dependant, not independent.We are entitled. Entitled to what ? The only things guaranteed us are three things, Life,Liberty and the pursuit of happiness. It is those three that are being taken away in an apparent trade off for security. The security of government taking care of us. Conditioned response.
I am certainly no mental health specialist. I do feel comfortable in saying this, it is far easier to condition someone to respond in a certain fashion when it does not require restraint. That is to say, when you are allowed to just do what feels good. Conditioning people to respond otherwise, in a manner that requires empathy and compassion at a cost to self, is another concept altogether. That concept is embodied in the Judeo Christian tradition. It is that tradition that we need to condition our citizens to ! The acceptance of others is a part of that tradition. That does not entail abandoning that tradition.
Remember when most of us went to church on Sunday? Remember saying the Pledge of Allegiance ? Remember saying a prayer, even in public ? Were they conditioned responses ? The shrink would tell you so. I would add it ain't a bad thing. Conditioned responses do lead to conditioned behaviors,even belief ! Which would you rather have today ? No matter your religious affiliation, or lack of one, the historical facts can not be ignored. The basis of this nation, the best nation yet known on this earth, is the Judeo Christian beliefs. To abandon them for a secular version is to destroy America. Period, end of discussion. It is what I believe.  

Living in the kitchen

Yesterday, as I writing about the kids and going back to school I wandered into the kitchen, not physically but figuratively. I mentioned the time we had spent baking cupcakes and cookies. As often happens when I write my stories I have several other thoughts happening at the same time. It is a struggle at times to stay on topic. See, wandering off already, but back to the kitchen. I was remembering the time I spent in the kitchen with my Mom and Grandma.It is safe to say I did most of my growing in those kitchens. It is where I did my homework, ate my meals, and hung out there. This was long before cable television,video games, cell phones, I-pods and all those distractions. The kitchen table was the work table for projects. Need to build a paper mache volcano ? Kitchen table. Got a problem you need to discuss ? Kitchen table. The kitchen table was the heart of the home. It is where it all came down.
Have we moved from the kitchen ? Now it seems we spend our time elsewhere. In the family room or living room. Homes generally do not have large kitchens anymore. If they do, it is an advertised feature. Now we just settle down in the family room. That is where the television is and access to the internet. Most have wi-fi now so that area is expanding. We are scattered about. We spend more time on our " connected " devices that making connections with each other. I would say technology has caused this exodus from the kitchen. A real shame and a loss I believe that it is having negative effects. More than our bodies were nurtured in those kitchens, our minds and souls were as well.
The kitchen was the center of the home due to practicality. It was warm in there, the work table was there and it was spacious. Those old coal stoves in the corner provided warmth the year round. Granted you didn't always want that in those summer months, but when the air turned chilly, it was the place to be. The kitchen always smelled good too ! Lingering aromas long before Yankee Candle made apple pie and ginger spice. Where was Mom ? Most likely in the kitchen. Washing and ironing was done in the kitchen, not just cooking. If you had a dining room it was used for, dining. That is where the good table was, the one you couldn't draw on, paint on or even lean on ! You had best not scratch that table ! Don't mess up that room either. Laundry rooms had not been thought of yet. Ironing in the kitchen, you say ? Sure, my grandmother used those old flat irons, the stove was in the kitchen and that's how you heated the iron. Practical enough and no cords !
All of that is lost to history now. Just memories for some of us, and tales from the past for others. My own grandchildren know a little bit about the kitchen. I wish they knew more. I'm certain they will remember baking cookies and cupcakes with grandma. We have assembled a few projects in the kitchen. But my kitchen, like most modern day kitchens, is rather small and not designed to be lived in. I rather miss that. I hadn't given it any thought until yesterday. When my mind wandered into the kitchen, I became aware. I have been told about this and have probably even read an article or two about it. As I said, I'm not the first, but now I am aware. The question is, is this nostalgia, or was it the reality ? Does it matter ? No I would say it doesn't really matter at all but brings a smile to my face. When I remember the love,warmth and laughter in the kitchen, I smile. Wasn't a bad place to be raised, just like that bread on the counter. We were kneaded, formed, covered and kept warm. Once raised we were ready, metaphorically sent into the fire. The fire we call life. I do think we were better prepared back then. Maybe it was better ingredients. Or was it that the workplace was more suited to the task ? Something to think about.
The kitchen wasn't just for raising bread, it was for raising families.

Grandmas kitchen

The kids go back to school here in Caroline County Maryland next week. This summer has gone exceptional y fast. Starting next week the whole dynamic changes. Schedules change and so does planing. The thing is for me this year my Morgan, my Granddaughter goes off to middle school. No more elementary school for her or me ! I'll miss that old elementary school. We made some fine memories together. I enjoyed my Granddaughter, too. All that is behind us now. Now it is lockers in the hallway and no recess ! This year we begin to face those adolescent years. Oh the drama awaits.
At the end of the school year, the end of elementary I had written a blog called cupcake memories. I posted that with sorrow and hope for the future. I spoke of the time we had spent making cookies and cupcakes to take to school. I will miss that. Morgan was asked to address the student body at last years graduation ceremony. I remember her saying these words, " you cannot read the next chapter if you keep rereading the last " and thinking what a profound statement that was from a fifth grader. Technically I suppose she was a sixth grader at that time. It was at that time that she turned the page. Now she will begin to write the next chapter in her book.
Her brother Mark begins his last year of middle school. He is the " senior " class at Lockerman middle school. The big dog ! This year will be all ho-hum for him . I'm sure it will be a great year for him. Who doesn't enjoy being the senior ? He has grown in stature and maturity over this brief period we called summer. I'm looking forward to big things from him. Time has begun to accelerate for him as well. Time to get serious.
Yes it will be a different school year for Grandma and I. No one to put on the bus. After school visits will be optional. I expect we will only see them when they are out of school for weekends and holidays, unless, of course they get hungry. They know Grandmas kitchen is always open. And it is with that thought that hope exists. Most children are raised in the kitchen. It is one place in the home where a great deal of learning takes place. At least it was for me, and so far for the grandkids while they are here. We are not just baking cookies and cupcakes. An awful lot of love and learning is done there. I'm hoping that it continues. I know that it will.
So, the next week we turn the page and begin again. Children measure time in school years. Their parents measure time by holidays. Now Grandparents, we have a different measure of time. Our time is measured by milestones and stages. Time runs in review. It does cause consternation at times. When the review appears to be closer to our own milestones we want it to slow down a bit. Yes this middle school stuff is going to upset the routine. Elementary is really over, reality sets in. Morgan is anxious, Mark is complacent and Grandpa is nostalgic. I want a do over. Had even considered making cupcakes for the beginning of the school year. Might do that yet.  

Faith requires no explanation.

When I got home from work there was a question posted to my timeline. What do you think of the stars in the sky ? There were a few responses some funny, some not. My immediate response was, " just fragments of the whole,and if I can be so awed by a fragment how much more so by the whole." That answer came without thought. Or I should say it came to me as a completed thought. That happens occasionally. It has caused me to think, after the fact. Most of the time that is not a good thing. Acting or speaking without forethought is a slippery slope. It is something I have tried to curb as the years pass. Some would say it is maturity, others wisdom. Whatever it is, I know it has taken some time for me to realize the value of that lesson.
In thinking about what I responded it occurred to me that I might expatiate upon that topic. The stars are merely fragments of the whole. Secular science teaches that the universe was formed by a big bang. The moment of singularity,that instant before expansion, is the whole. The stars, and indeed everything else in the universe are just fragments of that whole. It is defining that whole that is at the core of man's curiosity. No matter what answer man searches for the explanation would have to begin there. Fragments of the whole are still a part of the whole. Time and distance separates them. Isn't that what Einstein, Hawking and Sagan all explored. It is that relationship that will provide the solution.
In the spiritual world man attempts to explain the whole. Most religions accomplish this in terms a man can understand. A creator fashioned the universe. The creator is the singularity. That is the key to religion, to faith. Secular science claims to explain the formation of the universe but does not attempt to explain the singular. Fragments are easily identified as pieces of the whole. It is the whole that must be defined. Scientists have studied the stars for centuries. We marvel at there very existence. The stars appear to us to be fixed points in the sky but they are not. The stars rotate around the center of the galaxy. The stars rotate around that moment of singularity, around I say, the creator.
    Amos 5:8 - [Seek him] that maketh the seven stars and Orion, and turneth the shadow of death into the morning, and maketh the day dark with night: that calleth for the waters of the sea, and poureth them out upon the face of the earth: The LORD [is] his name:
This is, of course, from the Bible. The advice ? Seek that moment of singularity. Is that not what it says ? Seems clear enough to me. Scientists and astronomers are attempting to do just that. Even those that profess to be atheists, anti theists or agnostics are searching for that entity. They may deny that in their secular scientific methods but there is no escaping the truth. Can man understand creation ? No more than than man can understand the stars. Man has subconsciously always sought to be one with the universe. Over the centuries and throughout every culture that theme can be found. Mother earth, the druids and others all felt the kinship to the universe. We are all fragments of that creation. We are all fragments of the creator.
And so with that statement, " just fragments of the whole,and if I can be so awed by a fragment how much more so by the whole "  I acknowledged the creator. Awe indeed.
 Hebrews 11:6 - But without faith [it is] impossible to please [him]: for he that cometh to God must believe that he is, and [that] he is a rewarder of them that diligently seek him.
There it is, written in scripture for anyone to read. Faith is the key. And faith requires no explanation. The very existence of a star reaffirms my faith. For as long as a single fragment exists, all is possible. I see the stars in the sky as possibilities. Awe Inspiring Indeed !                

Considering the choices

Immediate desires and questionable decisions. We are all subject to them. Whether it is in fashion,relationships or permanent choices. There is no place that highlights this anymore than a stroll through a Walmart store. Just take a look around at your fellow shoppers. The scary part about it is that I am part of the crowd ! I'm not immune to this social phenomena. And that is what I would have to label it. It would seem a measured response is no longer required. In this progressive new world, a world without restraint, you just go for it. That is even an advertising campaign ! Nike has been saying that for years now. I think the message is being misunderstood.
Now in fashion I can see the desire to wear the latest style. After all, I don't want to be uncool or a nerd. Especially when we are younger and trying to attract the opposite sex, well  maybe even the same sex, another discussion there. The thing is, fashion is not permanent. No harm, no foul. Relationships are another matter. They involve at least one other person. Those decision need to be considered a bit more. They can have permanent results. Children without parents is always a concern. There are those that wish to solve that issue by murder, but then again, another topic altogether.
A " fashion " statement I see more and more of  is getting tattooed.  Getting Inked in the modern vernacular. It has become a more accepted form of self expression. It is generally accepted in society. It is also quite a permanent decision. Yes, they can be removed, at great cost. I have mentioned this in the past. It appears the trend is still growing and the " inking " becoming more questionable. No longer are they limited to certain areas of the body, they have spread. I will say this, I have no objections to tattoos. I have a few very small ones. What I question is the decision making process involved with some of this modern ink . Neck tats look pretty cool when you are twenty, not so much when you are sixty. Let's just say the canvas doesn't remain stretched over the years. I also question having certain sayings, words of wisdom, written on your body. I have found, in my experience, that what I found profound at twenty one isn't always so at thirty. Know what I mean ?
I do think this is a reflection of society. We tend to want things now. Patience is no longer a virtue, it would seem. Now I demand immediate results,immediate action. Do not consider the long term effects. If you want it, get it. We do that with everything nowadays. Consider the consumerism of today. Buy it, use it, discard it ! That is how we do it. You may be able to do that with material things but other decisions you have to live with, forever. It is those decisions that I am thinking about. No, not just tattoos, they are just visible examples. We are all entitled to our choices. As long as those choices do no harm to others I agree you should just, " go for it. " What I am saying is perhaps a bit more thought should be exercised in making these choices. If you spend more time defending your choices than benefiting from them, maybe those choices should be questioned. Just an observation on my part. My point of view.

Toward the setting sun

Back in 1971 I stepped on the train heading for New York City. I was accompanied by my best friend and we were heading for Fort Hamilton. We had both joined the Navy and it was the day to report. Mom and Dad were there to say goodbye. Mom with tears in her eyes and Dad with a firm handshake. I was filled with excitement for this new adventure. I'm off to see the world. I was leaving my home and family behind but knew I would return. I was wrong. Oh, I returned alright, but home wasn't there anymore, it had moved. Home had moved to the past, a different time. A time that only lives in my memory. Even Mom and Dad had moved, to a different house. Their "new" home was on the same street as the old but wasn't the home of my youth. My bedroom wasn't there, my stuff wasn't there and my memories didn't live there, all that was down the road. Mom had saved a few papers and books but everything else was gone. The toys and treasures of my youth, gone. Strangers now lived in my home. And speaking of strange, even the town had changed. Four years makes a big difference. I stayed for about a year in this strange new world before rejoining the navy, never to return. Not at all the way I thought it might go back in 71.
I sometimes find myself living there still, in old stories and photographs. Captured moments in time. There is even a group on Facebook dedicated to this. " Hometown " connect it is called. In reality it is a connection to the past. But time travel is imperfect and there are obstructions,misunderstandings and landing in different times. The past is different for each of us. There are shared experiences and locations, but memories are seldom the same. Another problem is the rewriting of history. Unpleasantness and sorrow occupy dark corners and seldom see light in the future, they remain unexamined. We travel to the past to shed light and happiness on today. Time travel is best done alone.
Yes it was forty three years ago when I stepped on that train. That train was headed west. Like Horace Greely once said, Go West, young man, Go west. The west is full of adventure and opportunity. Go to the west and seek your way in the world. It seems we as Americans have always traveled to the west. Toward the setting sun. Even if we remain stationary, time moves forward. Time moves with the setting sun. Our surroundings will change with us, or around us, that choice is ours, likewise our memories. Getting comfortable with both is the key to happiness. The ability to reconcile what once was, with what is. Past and present. The future lies to the west, you had best get on the train.  

Living with a memory

Choices and regrets. I believe we all have them. Choices made, even when proven correct do not always leave us feeling satisfied. Sometimes we have to live with second guesses. And in that lies the truth. The truth is often times we can do no more than guess. We can gather facts,measure our response to those facts and act upon our emotions. Even after all of that, it is a guess. The conundrum is wanting to guess gain.The time has passed and the choice was made but we are not convinced of the outcome. It is that hope for a different outcome that drives these thoughts.
There are days when we are reminded of choices made. Today is one of them for me. Today is a date forever etched in my memory. A date that perhaps didn't have to be, but for my choices. Oh, the analytic mind tells me that isn't so, my spirituality confirms that, but emotions are different things altogether. There is no explaining feelings. Feelings can envelop your mind and overtake you. It is those feelings that can take control and cause you to make other choices, other guesses, that are as equally unsettling. It is wise to guard against those types of feelings. I think the best way to deal with them is to acknowledge them. Being aware is to be forewarned. Isn't that the advice we are given ?  No, the saying is forearmed is forewarned but I would say being aware is forearmed.
Sadness and doubt. These are emotional responses I have to this day. Sadness for what was lost. Doubt about the choices leading up to this date. It is almost as this happened in another world,another time and place. In a sense I would say that that is so. Years pass and the world turns on its' axis,unstopped,unrelenting and unapologetic. The merciless progression of time.
They say time heels all wounds but I do not think that is so. Time may cloud the memory, but not the hurt. The hurt I speak of lives in the recesses of my mind and shows itself in little unexpected ways. That is a good thing, a healthy thing, in that way I do not become overwhelmed. Learning to live with the memory is what heals.
I do not have any answers. I have made my choices. I have had to live with a certain amount of regret. I am not alone. There is a price to pay for everything. The only question remaining is; was it worth the price,where I am today ? Yes, I would have to say it was. There was some gain from all of this. In the big picture there was gain. It is a very difficult choice to make, the choice between emotion and a measured response to that emotion. The correct choice is not always the obvious choice, or the one that benefits ourselves. When regrets stems from what you may have denied yourself, those regrets are not justified. It is the overall effect of the choices you make that is the ultimate judge. Regret is the emotion, the choice is the action. The results are what is important. It is in that, that I find consolation. All is as it should be. I have made the choices and I believe I have done well. Have I passed the test ? Depends upon who is giving the exam. And with that I am lead to faith. Only memories remain. My faith tells me I will live with them again. The choices I make today will determine the outcome of tomorrow. I can only hope.

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;

Man never is, but always to be blessed:

The soul, uneasy and confined from home,

Rests and expatiates in a life to come.

– Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man

Scattered

Our brains are like computers. This morning mine doesn't want to boot up. Too many programs trying to load simultaneously. My thoughts jumping from one thing to another. Events in Missouri, events in Iraq, the argument over the name of a football team and the punishment of a football player over domestic violence. Too much rain, now it is cool outside and a super moon. I just can't seem to get one program to load correctly. Maybe I need to reboot or defragment. I don't know I don't know that much about computers or brains !
I do think we spend too much time being in everyone else's business and not enough in our own. Advice sure is easier to give than to receive. That doesn't necessarily make us blessed though. Just a thought. It is even harder to follow your own advice. I am one of those that are quick to dispense advice or opinion but may be slow to practice it. I think that is because when giving advice to others you can be detached from the situation. I mean, I'm not taking away the chocolate from myself. Cold and analytic is easier. Just the facts, maam ! Someone used to say that all the time.
Another thought keeps circling in my mind, a program running in the background, this notion of a secular society. I saw a posting for that on Facebook. Join in the secular society because that is what freedom is. You can not be free if you practice religion. It is a puzzle to me. How could anyone of any intelligence at all think that way ? Can they be so egotistical that they believe they know it all, they have all the answers. More likely is that they are ignorant, ignorance means a lack of knowledge. Or is this secular society a means to justify doing whatever one finds pleasing without the guilt of knowing that it is wrong ?
Well this little blog is a blog about nothing. Like an episode of Seinfeld. Too bad it isn't as funny. I hope my brain gets into gear and back on track. The weekend is straight ahead. Keeping my eye on the prize. I admit that sometimes the view gets foggy.  

Naming names

We all have heard or read the story, clothes make the man. There is some truth in that. Now whether it has a long term effect or not is questionable to me. It seems we grow accustomed to things fairly quickly. That argument could also work in support of the theory that clothes make the man. Perhaps you would become accustomed to behaving correctly. Either way, I was reminded of this story yesterday. It wasn't because of anything I or anyone else was wearing, it was due to a co-worker calling me Benny. Haven't heard myself being called Benny in years. These days, since about 1971 or so anyway, I have been Ben. Like a lot of men that have a name ending with 'Y" I dropped that when I became a man ! At least that is the perception. Yesterday when I heard that I felt a twinge of nostalgia. I didn't feel emasculated, I felt empowered. Isn't that strange ? Oh my, is it a sign of growth ? Have I reached a point where Benny is just fine again ? Yes, I think I have.
Now my real name, my christian name if you will, is Austin. I have never used Austin. My parents never used Austin. I am jr. and my father never used Austin. He was always, you guessed it, Ben. I do not know what he was called as a child, I never asked him. I do suspect it was Ben because that is who he was named after. A man whose name was Austin Bennett who was incidentally always referred to as Uncle Ben. I don't know why that was, just that it was. Apparently no one liked Austin as a name but kept on naming their children Austin. My perception is, Austin is a fancy name. Would work well for an artist,actor or author, not so well for a blue collar worker. Austin just doesn't have grit. Ben has grit. Now I'm thinking Benny wasn't so bad. I'm thinking Benny is who I am. Benny is not a serious name and I am not a serious person. The name kinda fits. I knew another man named Benny, he was a butcher at the IGA store. Real nice guy and fun. He wasn't a serious guy. The other Ben I knew was Ben Barnes, that man owned the Newspaper Company up on main street. He only had one leg, lost the other in the war. That man had grit, that is why they called him Ben.
I believe we all make judgments  about people based on their name. At least we do on initial contact. Are they using full names or abbreviated versions. We surmise race from names sometimes. We assume certain things based on names. If I am called " BUBBA " where do I come from ? Well, the fact is I was called " Bubba " all the time, by my father. He always called me Bubba. Come here Bubba, where is Bubba, tell Bubba to do it. And where do I come from ? East Hampton, Long Island, New York. Yup, a New York Bubba. No one else has ever called me that, only Dad. He passed in 1990 and so I haven't heard that said since, at least not to me.
Well we don't get to choose our name now do we ? The best we can do is move, or leave those that have known us. Then we can assume a name. Notice the saying is assume, not take. We assume a different name in the hopes of obtaining a different personality. We want to project something different,something other than who we are. The thing there is, in the end, we will reveal who we are. Whether it is by choice or being discovered it will be revealed.
Another curious thing is when others give us a name. A nick name or just use our middle name or something like that. I have done that. My wife's name is Galdys Ann. Her family members call her Gladys. I call her Ann. To me, she is an Ann. Gladys has a different connotation. I can't really explain that but it just is.
All this name stuff is fun to think about. Different names for different times and places. I have decided I am Benny. That is the name I think best describes who I am. What others choose to call me I can not control nor do I wish too. You know me by a name, I don't want to change that. I think this all has to do with the question, " What's in a name ? " Were I to become famous or rich I think I would then become Austin. Ha,ha wouldn't that be a hoot. It would be amusing for a short time anyhow. Like a Beverly Hillbilly sort of fun.

Understanding the mood

I awoke this morning to find myself in a contemplative mood. Perhaps it was caused by listening to the rain. Maybe it has something to do with yesterdays postings on Facebook. Who knows what brings these moods on ? I feel quiet and calm. It is not a bad thing but not a buoyant feeling either. Well we can't be all happy all the time. There are those that try, but that is another discussion.
I read of the suicide of Robin Williams. Anytime someone takes their life it gives one pause. Just goes to show that no matter, fame and money, happiness can be an elusive thing. Many will ask why, but there is no answer to that question. Those that commit that act, I believe, are beyond reason and therefore there is no reason. It can not be explained.
I have been watching the events in the middle east. Those events will cause consternation and well they should. Beheading's and other atrocities. Terrorists and extremists. Entire populations being used as pawns. A humanitarian crisis happening before our very eyes. These are things that may cause this contemplative state of mind.
I find myself wondering if there is any action I should be taking. Is there anything I can do ? The question is really, do about what ? Is it the mood I want to pass, or should I be making some contribution to the resolution of these issues ? What can I do about terror or suicide ? I think the only actions I can take to deal with these things is to remain calm. I can try to keep my life going forward as it always has. Outward displays of frustration,anger or feeling helpless will accomplish nothing. Remaining steady is the challenge here.
Yes this morning I am contemplative, not reflective , that is another mood altogether. I think to contemplate is to think about those things that you have no control over, reflective thinking is about the things you could have changed. A huge difference.
One thing I have learned over the years is that contemplation often leads to discussion. The only thing is to find the other person that has been contemplating the same things. Sometimes that person is yourself ! Nothing wrong with that and it does avoid disagreements. This mood will pass, probably by noon. Life goes on. Socrates said, " a life unexamined is not worth living " and who could argue with him ? I believe we also need to examine the world around us. Sometimes that is the only action that needs to be taken. We do need to understand our moods and where they fit in. With that understanding comes appropriate actions. That is one portion of finding happiness and hope. Faith plays into this equation as well. Faith is, reflective. Reflective thinking can offer solace for those things we contemplate. In fact I would conclude that it is essential. A secular society can not survive long. Relying solely upon ourselves we will fail. There are times to just proceed on faith. That is another topic for another day. Today, for now, I will just contemplate. Something more of us should be doing, more often.

Know what I mean

One of the most irritating things in life, to me, is the inability to adequately express a thought or concept that I have. To have another understand just what it is I am trying to say. When I fail to do that it often causes an argument. The more I try to explain, the worse it seems to get. I may get angry or just disgusted. There are times I just give up, dismiss the thought altogether. I walk away feeling, frustrated ! Discouraged is also an appropriate description of my feelings. Then I can't decide if I am discouraged by the others failure to understand, or my failure to explain.
The problem usually lies in the opening statement. The other person immediately infers something other than what it is I am trying to impart to them. Following that initial statement, the tone is set and there is no swaying them from their original interpretation . No matter how many different ways I express it, the meaning is lost. This happens with trivial matters as quickly as it does with things of more importance. There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason behind it. That is where the irritation comes in. What part don't you understand ? The meaning is clear to me, what is wrong with you ? What is it that I am not hearing or saying ?
I will say that I enjoy a good debate. I like to discuss the issues. It is not that someone disagrees with me that is the cause of this problem. I don't have an issue with that. It is the failure to understand, on their part, that causes the irritation. I do understand that the other person may feel the same way about me. They heard what I said and it is perfectly clear to them. It sometimes takes me a little while to catch on to that concept. When I do, that is when I resign. It is at this point I know that further discussion is fruitless. It is best to just drop it and move on. That, I find, can be an uncomfortable time for both of us. The other person has to reach that understanding at the same time. That doesn't happen very often. The sudden need to use the restroom is a convenient excuse to leave the conversation. That, or the ever popular, it isn't important statement. At least that is usually the truth, it usually isn't very important. Sometimes I'll even just agree to defuse the situation. I confess to not doing that very often, the last word thing you know. It's a fault of mine.
There is one thing more puzzling. When you make a statement and the other person immediately rejects it. You are given no chance to explain what it is you where saying or allowed to expound upon it. They just start off telling you what they think and feel without any regard for you whatsoever. It is as if you just turned on a switch. And just as quickly, the discussion is over. Without so much as a, how do you do, it's over. Well, I just guess that is that ! What just happened here ? All I said was......

Another anecdote

When my eldest brother was dating he brought a young lady home to meet Mom and Dad. This was a custom back in the old days, you know before you could check their profile on Facebook or read their twitter postings. Yup, the poor girl had to make personal contact with," the parents ." Naturally this lead to much anxiety and dare I say, trepidation ? Nerves definitely came into play here. As the kids say today, awkward !
Now this young lady, one of the Disunno girls, possibly Denise, was in my living room for this ritual. Mom and Dad were there, as was I and my other siblings. She had quite the audience I would say. She was visibly nervous to say the least. Not that I blame her, it had to be a pressure filled time. I mean, they were only dating, my brother and her, not getting married or anything. Still she had to endure the scrutiny and that is just what it was. Dad, was saying nothing, just listening. Mom is trying to ease the situation, as Mothers will, and us kids are snickering. The conversation is centering on just chit chat, nothing too serious. The young lady, being a polite and proper guest is admiring our photographs and bric and brac. Her nerves are being strained to the max. Her gaze falls upon a particular picture sitting on the mantle. Like a deer in the headlights she is panicked. The picture is of a young airman from WW2.  It is just his head and shoulders. The young lady inquires, " who is this ? " My brother promptly replies, " why that is my father. " Her head swivels to stare at Dad sitting there. Her immediate retort ? What happened ? Dad sits bolt upright in his chair and says, whadda mean what happened ? Mom begins to laugh, we all do. That poor young lady is about to die from embarrassment but there is nothing we can do to help. The moment passes and everyone pretends like nothing was said. Dad settles back into his chair and mumbles something unintelligible. Well, that question, " what happened " was repeated in our home many times after that. It became applicable to almost every situation.
I have that picture and the memory that goes with it. One of life's little treasures. It is a shame that that will pass into history when I do. Well, you had to be there to fully appreciate it. We all have those stories. And that is the story of an inside joke in our family, What Happened  I'll bet you have some inside jokes of your own. It is these small things that bind a family together. 

A reason for leaving

Childhood memories live there, alongside my ancestors that lie in their graves. I need only close my eyes to travel there. The truth is, I am never gone from the place I call home, and it will always be so. It is a fallacy to think you can change that, a myth. The place where you were born and raised always remains home. I may live elsewhere now, but I know where home is. I know every nook and cranny, every intimate detail, I know where my dreams were born and where sorrow is buried. First moments,last times, both reside there.
This feeling of home is different for each of us. The attachment to that home is primarily what we feel. How strong is the bond ? I believe that is dependent upon our individual experiences. That explains those differences in feelings. The bond to our homes is not created solely by time or by just being there. The bond is created by emotion. For some the bond is temporal and for others it is corporeal. Much is made of this bond or lack of it. Popular culture and customs dictate we should long for home. The whole Mom and apple pie thing. To feel otherwise seems contrary. Yet there are those that do not feel a strong attachment to their homes and just move on.
I can only speak for myself. I have given this considerable thought over the years. Were I just to react to emotion, the binding tie, I would be living there still. The reality is quite a bit different. Corporeal necessity has to take precedence. Emotional needs are a luxury I can not afford. That goes with the growing up thing. The thing that made me leave home in the first place. In thinking about that I began to wonder why ? Why should that place (home) be any different than any other. There are many beautiful places in this country. I can find anything that is there somewhere else as well. Oh, it will not be the exact same beach or mountain but beaches and mountains. You get the idea. Further thought lead me to this conclusion, the main difference is, at home there is a place for everything, whatever I choose to do. In new places you have to look. It is this looking that makes me feel uncomfortable. It is this discomfort that others describe as homesickness.
All the comforts of home. That is a phrase we often hear. For me that saying has acquired new meaning. The comforts of home are more than a warm place to sleep, a good meal and the company of your family. Those comforts also include familiarity. To be familiar is to be comfortable. This can be achieved anywhere. It is only the strength of the initial bond that prevents it. You must have a willingness to let go. This willingness feels like a betrayal. That is how I feel about it. Why should that be so ? Do I owe anything to the place ? That place and time, for time is also a factor, was a gift. Do I have an obligation to reciprocate in some fashion ? An allegiance ? Yes, in a sense I would say I do. It did provide the very foundation upon which my life is lived. In a sense, the place of our birth and upbringing our like our parents. They provide for us,teach us and comfort us. In time, if they truly love us, they let us go. Why should we not let go also ? Would that be a betrayal ? I think not. Maybe that is the obligation on my part. Maybe that will satisfy my allegiance.
Home, a bittersweet memory. It will ever be so. If I have been a successful parent and grandparent the next generations will feel the same way. I will have built them a home. And wasn't that the reason for leaving ?
That is the way it is in my experience. It is neither right nor wrong. It just is.  

Edited

From Wikipedia : Editing, the process of correcting or revising text,images or sound.
                                        to prepare for publishing.

This word has negative connotations to me. I guess it has something to do with being corrected. I hate being corrected, even when I correct myself. I understand the necessity for checking the spelling and possibly the grammar but anything beyond that irks me. Now, I'm not saying I am never wrong about things, that would just be nonsense, but the thought of someone else " editing " my work, why the nerve of that person. I said what I said and I'd probably say it again ! I did say probably, not definitely, circumstances can change. Sometimes a rethinking is prudent, not an edit, a rethinking. Oh, it is a different thing believe me.
I have thought of submitting some of my writings, I wouldn't call them works, for publication. I think it would be very cool to have something published. I looked into it once briefly and gained some insight into how that works. You submit it and someone reads it. If they think it worthy they will contact you and assign an " editor " to work with you. That is where the wheels begin to fall off for me. My back gets up a little when I think about that. You can correct my spelling, although spell check does a fine job at that, and maybe even suggest a few things, but edit, I don't think so. I don't want anyone correcting or revising my thoughts. I'll do that on my own if you don't mind.
I do wonder what qualifies you to be an editor. What power has granted you authority over my words ? Is it because you went to college or some journalism school ? Can you learn to recognize talent ? If you can, then why do you want to revise it ? What kind of ego maniac would you have to be ? I can't imagine editing Stephen King or J. K. Rowling  but they both have editors. Hey Rowling, how about revising that Harry Potter character just a bit. You know Steve, this tale about a dome, not sure I like it. Impertinence is the only word that comes to mind. I'm not any where near that caliber of writer but that is how I would feel. These are my words and mine alone.
I believe I would only be happy if my words were published as I wrote them. I would want the publisher to acknowledge that. Sure the publisher could send the manuscript back to me for editing until they were satisfied, but I am the only one making changes. I wouldn't be satisfied to just pay someone else to publish it either. If I am not being paid for the right to use my words, what's the point ? It would like paying an art gallery to show your paintings. For me I think it is all or nothing. Edited, I don't think so. You have to take the unedited version or nothing at all.

Being Anxious

At various points in our lives we wish for different things. When we are little we wish for candy and toys. After a bit ,we want to grow up. Then we want to graduate from high school, go to college and continue from there. Each of us choosing our own path. Each of us having different desires and ambitions. Some of us want to get married and have children, others want careers. We adjust,adapt and reevaluate. It is all a natural progression. Happens to everyone.
I think this has become a bit more difficult than in years past. Our roles today are not as easily defined. We are being told that we can be whatever we want to be, and that is fine. That was not always the case. As few as thirty or forty years ago the attitude was a bit different. For those of us of a certain age it doesn't take that much thought to realize that. We do not require examples, we were the examples. Consider simple things, like hairstyles. It has to be pretty extreme to gain attention these days. When I was much younger all you had to do was let it grow ! That was pretty radical. Same goes for fashion, and it was pretty much true as far as professions went too. Yes, there were aberrations, as there always will be, but they certainly weren't celebrated. Another thing we seem to do a lot more of these days, " celebrating " everything we do. In the past it was just the norm. But then, we knew what was expected. Made things a lot easier. Some would argue that it limited our choices and a case could be made for that view. I'll leave that up to the philosophers. Now that is a job I really want, come to think of it, Philosopher. All you have to do is sit around and think about stuff. Sounds perfect.
We all live our lives as we see fit. We do as our morals and desires compel us. I believe we all share some basic desires and needs. It is only the method we choose to obtain those desires and needs that separate us. The things that we want and the things we hope for. Love,money,security,friendship and a fulfilling career. Perhaps a family and watching our children grow. To see the grand children become young adults. Do you want world peace ? All the ideals that we once embraced and the ideas discarded over time, those things are transient.
As for me, just for myself alone, I would settle for two things. I want to wake up each day anxious to live it, and  I want to die healthy. If I manage those two things, I  have lived a wonderful life. That is because I believe when you are young you are anxious, anxious to live. That is why you want to grow up and do all those things you dream about. You just can't wait ! Isn't that a wonderful thing, to be anxious for each day ? No matter what the day may bring, good and bad, you should be anxious for it.
The other thing is no one wants to be sick,no one wishes for that. We will all die, that cannot be avoided, might as well die healthy. That is what I think anyway. Subject to change.

Understanding

There are times when reading the postings of others that I am taken aback. I am struck by their frustration,anger and despair. I sense this in their words. I feel empathy towards them, yet say nothing. I wouldn't want to add to that cauldron. Like screaming into a stiff wind these voices are barely audible, but urgency is in their cries. When this happens I am reminded, reminded of my own shortsightedness. I sometimes cannot see the obvious, or refuse to admit to that reality. Resignation is a difficult prospect for me. I can see this struggle for resignation in those postings.
I do not write this as a condemnation of those words. I write this as a form of therapy and perhaps it will prove therapeutic to others. If this posting only touches one other, and brings a measure of comfort, the time spent typing was well used. I find myself, in my advancing years, becoming a bit more observant of the human condition. I struggle with concepts I once thought trivial or unimportant. I can now see the struggles of others more clearly. Motives are more evident.
This is especially true when it comes to loss. I find that emotion captured often in postings. Not in just the loss of life, but the loss of the past,a place, or a time. The reaction to sadness is sometimes anger. We become angry for the things we cannot change. We question ourselves. Could we, should we have done more ? Second guessing our past is not productive. If we spend our time and energy doing that, we are perpetuating the cycle of sadness and anger. There is a time to just resign.
It is a futile thing to wish for the past. It is gone. Remember it and embrace those memories but realize they are gone. You, nor I, can bring those times back. The time to move on is often a painful realization. Reluctance is the word to describe it. It is one thing to be reluctant,quite another when it turns to stubborn determination. The ability to distinguish this is the basis for this struggle. The struggle is to either accept what is, change it, or just resign. We must choose.
There are times and circumstances that are forced upon us. We had no input, no say so whatsoever. Some would call it fate or destiny. I would call it life. When that happens we must choose. We don't get to choose the event, just our reaction to that event. It may be a sudden occurrence or one that creeps up over a long period of time, either way the event must lead us to action. Inaction causes frustration. Frustration leads to anger. Anger leads to sorrow, bitterness and hate.
We all feel this way at times. The proof of that is in those postings. They come from all directions and no one is immune. It is a normal thing. I would say that these postings should lead us somewhere. I would hope they lead to understanding. If we are to be what we say we want to be, we had best be paying attention. That definitely applies to me ! The truth is we all must " read " this for ourselves. That is why I do not say anything in response to those types of postings. Self awareness is the motivator for change, or at least it should be.
But, then again, there are those that just like to complain. I've been known to do that and so do not exempt myself from that statement.
There are things we cannot change. Those are the times we need to resign. Resignation is not quitting. Resignation is the acceptance of  reality. With acceptance comes understanding and from that, empathy. I will repeat what I have said regarding empathy, Empathy is Silent. When I understand, I am silent, no words need to be said. I think anger is nothing more than the search for understanding. The anger I read is not directed at me nor anyone else in particular, that anger is directed at life. Life doesn't have to be a struggle but we tend to make it that way. Ah, the human condition, it is, after all, what we make it. 

Living past the music

It happens to each generation and it has happened to mine. To be more precise I should have said, it happens to every individual at different times but every generation. There comes a point where their genre of music, or even several, change. I watched, briefly, that Country Music Festival on television last night. What I saw was aptly described by someone else as , " Bro country " ! Well, I'll say it, it ain't country ! All those screaming guitars and screaming vocals combined with the " outfits " are just too much. They sell records, I'll give them that, but it isn't the country music I know. Crap ! I seem to have outlived country music,and that is old.
Country music, once known as Country and Western, apparently the west has left, symbolized a lifestyle. As Barbara Mandrel said all those many years ago, I was country when country wasn't cool. Those lyrics would have to be revised today to say, I was country before everyone else was down with it. This style of music was generally considered Americas music. It was the songs and stories of everyday people. Many jokes and generalities could be made about it and I have heard them all. No matter, it is what I like. If this so called  " country " music that I saw last night is an indication of America, we are in big trouble. And it is that statement that brings us back to my opening line. It happens to each generation. I hear myself saying it, I understand how it sounds, and yet I'm saying it ! I have become my own Grandfather. The soundtrack of my life has begun to repeat. I do wonder why this happens ? There comes a time when we just no longer embrace the " new " stuff. Oh, there are those that make an attempt at fooling themselves and they just look foolish. Think a Grandma in Yoga pants, it's current, it's stylish, it is not for most Grandma's. No offense to any Grandmas out there, I'm just sayin'. Hey, Grandpa don't look too great in a muscle shirt and cargo shorts either.
It does seem to me that there is a " graying " in America. I'm not talking about aging however, I'm talking about a lack of definition. There are just so many gray areas in society. We all hear about acceptance and tolerance, which are good things, noble sentiments, but the reality is only my way is the tolerant way. That is what I hear. If you do not agree with me you are obviously a bigot, or have some type of phobia !  Too many people trying to be something they are not. I was a lot more comfortable with the times when we all knew our roles. I didn't see anything wrong with that. I didn't see it as a limiting thing. It sure isn't that way anymore. I didn't have a problem with right and wrong. There was right, and there was wrong. Now there is, what ? A questioning ? More like a lack of commitment in my opinion. Aaron Tippin said, you've got to stand for something or you'll fall for anything and I'd say that pretty well sums it up. Just when did we go from standing up for what we believe, to just standing up for whatever.
Well that is quite a mouthful from watching ten or fifteen minutes of that festival. I do not have a problem with those that enjoyed it. I'm not saying anyone is wrong here. What I am saying is, one day it will happen to you. You will not understand until it does. Until then, rock on or whatever it is you're doing.

Just being nosy

As part of my genealogy research I often look through old newspapers and magazines. It is always exciting when you find another little piece of the puzzle. I have stumbled across many amazing facts this way. I have found birth announcements,obituaries,wedding and engagements,baptisms and all matter of tidbits. This new technology to search these records is amazing. All I need do is type in a name or search parameter and a list is generated. Decades of information is instantly sorted.
There are times when I find something that leaves me questioning. In the home town paper little snippets of what was considered news worthy, amuse. For instance, just the other day I was browsing a paper when I found this, " Horace Bennett killed a large grey owl in a potato lot with a club. " That is all it says. Horace Bennett is my maternal Grandfather. Why did he kill this owl ? I want more details. Grandfather Horace passed away in 1949 so I'll never know that answer. I found a similar article a year or so ago about my other Grandfather. The only difference was he killed a large black snake, the largest seen in the area in quite some time, according to the paper. Somehow I didn't question why he would kill a black snake. That's just a bias I suppose, but one a lot of us share.
All of this is part of the fascination with the family tree. It is kind of being nosy in a way. We justify it by saying, " hey we're family. " That somehow makes us feel better about prying into the past. For me, and for everyone I know that does this search, it is more than looking for names and dates. It is the details that fascinate us so. Inquiring minds want to know. I have found things that I am sure those involved would be embarrassed for people to know. That situation is only getting worse with the advance of technology. How much of what we do today is being recorded in some fashion ? Can we keep secrets anymore ? Not many I'm thinking. That is one of the reasons I began writing my own story, I want some input here. I'll fill in the details. The thing is the details are often boring and mundane. Consider a question the grandchildren have asked me and some of the locals, why did you move to Greensboro ? The answer, the rent was right and I was going overseas. That then leads to more explanations. I was in the Navy at that time. I didn't want my wife and children in a big city, I wanted a safe little town. Found it in Greensboro. That is how it goes. Questions lead to questions. Why did Grandfather Horace kill that owl ? Was it annoying ? Who,Who,Who. I just don't know and it is forever left to speculation. Another little tidbit that is self explanatory, on May 27, 1903 my Great Grandfathers grey draught horse died at a great loss to Mr. Lester. Read that in the paper.

Intimate expressions

I have started writing some of my blog postings in a book. When I say writing, I mean writing them in cursive into a book with blank pages. I have talked about doing this for some time and have finally begun the process. My cursive skills are sorely lacking. It has been many years since I tried using them. In doing so I am reminded why I began to print ( with pen and paper ) when I wished to communicate in that fashion. I think it will be a challenge for others to read. I'm am hopeful that my skill will improve over time and become more easily read. Penmanship is an art.
As I have written in the past I feel having something written in someones own hand is far more personal than a printed page. I have a few examples from my grandparents and great grandparents. Whenever I hold those pieces I can feel their presence. It may sound strange but I assure you it is true. I think I know the reason for this. I think it is because it takes so long to write something ! A blog posting that I can type in fifteen minutes and when typed barely occupies a page tales almost an hour and three pages. I start getting cramps ! I'll tell you one thing, it will make you want to keep it brief. Maybe that is why " short stories " were invented in the first place.
I will say I am pleased that I have at least begun. I can see that this project is going to take much longer and require more effort than I had originally thought. I wanted to do this at least three times, one for each grandchild, but I don't know about that now. We'll see. We all know that cursive handwriting is getting to be a thing of the past. My grandchildren already say, I can't read cursive. Cursive, I explain to them, is not a foreign language. I do wonder if in the future one will have to hire an expert to read it. In my case you may need to get a detective to decipher the code. Calligraphy is a fine hobby and I had considered that. I quickly dismissed that idea as soon as I saw my cursive handwriting ! I had best work on that skill first and foremost.
I have found that the time required to write, with pen and paper, does cause you to think. The words are more considered. I find myself wanting to change my phrasing and choice of words when copying my postings. I have yet to decide if that is a good thing or a bad thing. I do think spontaneous remarks are more truthful in some ways. On the other hand, words more carefully considered may prove beneficial in the long run. I do remember writing those letters home when I first joined the Navy. The time I spent writing them was time I was there. It was like being there to write about what I was doing now, like having a conversation. Instant messaging and posting on my Facebook " wall " does not hold that same intimacy. I think that is what is missing in a lot of our communications today. Somehow putting pen to paper is a far more intimate way to express ourselves. It is certainly more permanent. Cave man knew that and we still look at their writings. I wonder too if I wrote letters, in cursive to old friends and relatives, if they would even spend the time and energy necessary to read them. It takes effort. Everything has to be as fast as possible these days. Well, I'll keep writing in those books. Perhaps they will someday be taken to school and displayed for show and tell. A curiosity, like hieroglyphics. It takes a scholar to decipher them. I'm  positive that it will all be worth the effort. These things just take time to appreciate.