realistic

 Is it realistic to expect the ideal? In my opinion that is the problem we are facing these days. You can call it by many names, woke seems to be the current term bantered about, to mean just that. I present the ideal and insist reality adjust to that. Well, that's not going to happen I can tell you that much. Pipe dreams is what they used to be called. They were the fantasies people experienced while smoking opium! Guess not much has changed in the world after all, just the delivery method of those pipe dreams. They are apparently government sponsored these days. They even have certified classes being taught in colleges and universities that are nothing more than pipe dreams. Non-binary comes to mind. Truth is you are one of two things! There really isn't a third option. Yes ideally we could all be whatever we dreamed we were or wished we were but that isn't reality. 

 Now there is nothing wrong with trying to be whatever you wish to be, or working to achieve your dreams, but you have to be realistic about those efforts. Expecting reality to conform to the rules of fantasy isn't one of those. That's just one of the reasons we have so many warning labels on every product imaginable. When you place food in a microwave oven, cook on high for twenty minutes, it will be hot! It will not come out at the ideal temperature for handling or eating! That is reality! Placing an aluminum ladder against active power lines can get you killed is another reality. When biology says you are a male, you are a male. It really doesn't change anything if you think otherwise. And another favorite of mine is this simple fact, equal opportunity doesn't mean equal results. All men are created equal, that's a fact but not all men wind up equal. Shocker isn't it? 

 All of this applies to government as well. No government is ideal. Just as no one is perfect, neither is government. Government has to deal with reality. Our government is deeply in debt, a reality. The idea that government should provide food, housing, clothing, medical care, and a bi-weekly stipend to every citizen is just ludicrous. Is that realistic? This notion of having the top 1% pay the way for the other 99% is equally ridiculous. The best way to increase the security of the citizens is to defund the police? Ideally criminals don't commit crimes. In the real world they do that all the time, why? Because they are criminals. Choosing not to enforce a law doesn't make the action non-criminal anymore than a man wearing a dress makes him a woman! Realistic vs Idealistic. 

 And then there is the question of history. Ideally man would have never have made a mistake. There would have been wars. The entire world would be joined in singing Kum Ba Ya. That isn't what happened. You can't change that. You can not change yesterdays actions with todays dreams. Fact is the past owes you nothing. It is up to you to learn from the past not attempt to rewrite it. Tearing down statues, erecting monuments, waving flags and banners are all vehicles to promote ideals. That is what they are designed to represent. It is also the reason they are eventually replaced. Consider the fact that we are busily engaged in erasing from history Generals of the civil war, well if they were on the wrong side anyway. When they were erected what did they represent? They represented an ideal, that men should fight for their freedom to live their lives and direct their government as they want. That is what was being represented. Yes, they lost that war, were they wrong? It wasn't until 1957, ninety two years later that the government declared those Confederate soldiers as United States Veterans! That's the reality of that situation. In less than sixty years the idealists have decided to change that once again, choosing to vilify them. Yes, they are Veterans, same as all other veterans that is the reality. So when you are taking down those statues and monuments you are erasing reality in a misguided attempt at an ideal. Ideally we would all love and respect one another right? Isn't that the woke thing? Well, only when that supports idealistic pipe dreams. History isn't ideal, but it is real, that's what happened, deal with it and move on. 

 It's way past time. I was told, on more than one occasion, to pull my head out of buttocks and take a good look around. Good advice and advice I didn't always heed. Well all I can say about that is history taught me a lesson, several lessons. Reality reared its' ugly head and smacked me square in the face. I haven't forgotten about that. I don't expect history to change to suit me. Ah geez, it wasn't fair. Truth is fair is what you make it. Fair doesn't mean you get your way. You see fair applies to everyone in a different way. What is fair for you isn't necessarily fair to me. That's the difference between ideally and realistically. Wake up people, quit dreaming and start dealing with reality. That's the only way progress gets made.  

unspoiled memories

 I, like everyone else enjoy nostalgia. I get sentimental about the old hometown and all of that. At the end of my granddaughters graduation ceremony they sang their alma mater. Did you know that means, nourishing mother? That's the Latin phrase anyway, today it means your old school or university. But whatever it means to you I'd say it is a sentimental thing. Afterwards when talking to my in-laws I discovered many of them didn't know their alma mater. That was surprising as I figured everyone knew their school song. I remember mine to this very day. Apparently that isn't always the case. Well, who knew? 

 I had driven to upstate New York for that occasion, I wouldn't miss it, it's a big event in a persons life and I wanted to share in that. Where I was wasn't anywhere close to my hometown, just in the same state. Coming from New York state I'm well aware that most people believe New York is just a city, the whole state is the city. That, of course, couldn't be further from the truth. What is true is that my hometown is now nothing more than a playground for the rich. Yes, the guests have taken over the park! I've known that for quite some time now but the urge to visit remained strong. Today I find that is no longer so. As I drove back to Maryland, where I live now, my wife suggested a trip to my hometown. To my own surprise my answer was, no, I don't want to spoil a memory. It's a selfish thing I know, an avoidance of reality you could say and that would be a fair statement. But I know myself and I know I would rather not see the old hometown in  her present condition. It's like seeing someone that you haven't seen in a long time, it can come as a shock. There are times when I look in the mirror with that same result! I can't avoid that but I can avoid going to my hometown.

 All of that may be a product of aging as well. I prefer to remember people as they were. For many years I avoided attending funerals for that very reason. I remember when my great grandfather passed and I was made to go to the funeral. When I saw him laid out, as the saying goes, I felt that wasn't him! Now that memory is always my first thought of him. Over time I haven't been able to avoid all the funerals the social contract must be fulfilled, no excuses when you are an adult. Well, fact is I'm not all that adult when it comes to that. I have learned to tuck that image away a bit and remember the person as I knew them to be. Still given a choice I wouldn't attend any funerals with an open casket. Myself, I don't want anyone looking at me and saying, he looks good! No thanks, just say goodbye and keep my memory intact. And that's how I feel about the old hometown now, I would rather not look. I'll just keep my unspoiled memories. Truth is, in the end, that's all we have, memories. 

remaining hopeful

 Watching the parade go by. There are times that is what I feel like I'm doing. It's not a bad thing, it is just a thing. I just watched my granddaughters' Shyann graduation ceremony. She was my final grandchild. But I'm looking forward to college graduations! There is always another parade. While I'm talking about parades, there will not be one for the fourth of July in Greensboro. I can't say the last time they did. I've lived here at least 25 years and never saw one. The lack of that has nothing to do with Covid! Well, anyway, there will be a parade, probably for Christmas. But in feeling like I'm watching the parade go by I'm thinking it is because we are supposed to be so goal oriented. Isn't that what we are told? Well, at least I know my generation was, today I'm not so certain that is as valid a statement. We are slowly becoming a society of  whatever you do is alright and will be celebrated. It's a bit of a different attitude. The line between right and wrong is not only being blurred, it is being erased. If history is any guide that indicates a decline, not progress. With no one leading the parade, it just wanders aimlessly. I've been watching, and that is what I'm seeing. 

 Now that being said I have no desire to lead the parade. I discovered some time back that I'm not a leader. I don't inspire others to action. I think they call that being the alpha male. If that's so I'd say I'm no more than a B+ or so. I will join in whenever I support the cause and just as quickly reject a cause I feel is nonsense. There's a lot of nonsense going on these days. The least of these is not this notion of just doing whatever you please and expecting everyone else to accept that without question. No longer are we supposed to suggest that perhaps that choice is wrong! I can tell you for a fact some of my choices were more than strongly suggested in being wrong, I was flat out told that! It wasn't a suggestion. 

 But as I watched the graduation ceremony and watched those young people walk across that stage I remain hopeful. I'm certain there were leaders there, although I only knew the one graduate. They were a class that experienced some hardship and disappointments. I can only hope they learned from that not to be a follower but rather to discern right and wrong. The push to just, do as you are told, was strong over the last year and a half or so. The pressure of government to comply was very strong while allowing, indeed is some instances encouraging, civil disobedience. That mixed message was dependent upon political affiliation and political power. Certain actions were correct and incorrect depending upon that. It could lead to some confusion. Well the truth is it already has, there are many that are confused these days. Clarity in leadership is sorely lacking in my opinion. You can't lead by just saying, do whatever you like. It may make you a popular boss but not much a leader. The bottom line will be, production is down. I don't think there is much doubt that American production is down! I can see where that began clearly enough I don't need to say it here. 

 America will celebrate her 243th birthday in just a few days. It's a time to reflect upon the founding principles. The documents that recorded the thoughts of those involved form the basis for our government. What is the purpose of Government? If you read those documents with an eye toward understanding that it becomes clear. Government isn't really about the individual, government is about the whole. Yes, individual rights are protected but those individual rights do not form the structure of government. The greater good isn't always what you feel is good! That's a lesson I feel isn't being stressed often enough! Tolerance isn't acceptance, is another lesson sorely lacking in today's curriculum. 

 Well I've wandered and rambled enough for this morning. I guess just watching the graduation ceremonies over the last few weeks has caused me to reflect a little more than usual. I see a new beginning with those young people. I remember walking across that stage myself, fifty years ago. I knew, even then, that I wasn't about to change a thing. My hope was to just continue. I didn't have any set goals, no great ambitions. I tried to make the best decision for every situation. I wasn't always successful. I can say with certainty I never celebrated a failure! I took those failures as one takes medicine, because I had to. I've listened to the speeches and I've lived the realities. My hope for these graduates is they get more doses of reality than they do "ideals." Life isn't ideal but it is all we have. The "ideal" society isn't about what you want, but what is best for the whole. Being popular doesn't guarantee success. Read the very first line of the Constitution and what does it say? "We the People of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union" et al, the statement is clear: the Constitution is for everyone, the common good, the well being of a nation, not the rights of an individual. For that reason the phrase, promote the general welfare, was included. 

 That document, along with all the others is being handed to this generation of graduates. Placed in their care and trust. That is what I witnessed at these ceremonies. I've had my turn at stewardship. I did my best with the choices I made. I have no doubt these young people will do the same. Thing is, the thing that makes me nervous, is a different mindset. It's a different time, a different world than it was fifty years ago. I didn't lead this parade, mostly I just went along. I'm not too happy in the direction we are heading. Still, there are new leaders in the making. And in that, I'll remain hopeful.   

road trip

  Leaving this morning for a quick road trip. I'm anxious to get on the road. Reminds me of when I first got a drivers license. I'm sure you remember when you just couldn't wait to drive the car and go somewhere, anywhere. Before you got your first car you looked for excuses to drive. Now, my parents weren't ones to let me drive their car but would on occasion, a rare occasion. Fortunately I had a car of my own, given to me by an Uncle, almost from the day I got my license. I drove a 1964 Ford Falcon station wagon and did so without shame. Yes I would have liked to have a cool car but I didn't have any cool cash for that. All the great cars were being made then, all the muscle. It wasn't for me to own any of them. My mother did have a Plymouth road runner, 383 with a four speed, pistol grip shifter and ram air hood scoop. Yes, very cool and I wasn't allowed to drive that car much. I did take my road test in my Mom's car, she had a Dodge charger then, 318 automatic. About the only time I got to drive that too. 

 I'm still driving a car that is best described as utilitarian. A Ford Focus, 4 door, automatic and the engine looks like it belongs in a riding lawn mower. Still it will get me where I want to go, in relative comfort and using a reasonable amount of fuel. Yeah, all the things my Dad preached to me about as he drove his American muscle. The same old thing, do as I say not as I do! Well it worked with cars I guess but not with cigarettes and beer!  Oh, I had my share of those Dad, just like you. Of course I have to add, I also quit both, just like you. Still I would like to try some muscle car action, maybe a hemi-cuda! But then I'm past middle aged so I missed that window too. Those really cool cars like Lamborghinis and Ferraris are too low to the road to get in and out of. Well, in my dreams I can anyway and watch you tube videos. 

 Well, time to pack up the car, get google maps on the smart phone and head out. I still have a folding paper road map of Long Island should I decide to go that way. It was printed when the developer advertised that Montauk was going to become the Miami of the north. From what I hear that has happened, just not in the way he thought. I will admit that the phone is much better, although the lady on there can get annoying. Turn around, recalculating, head northeast. Never a reference to a landmark! What does she think I am, Marco Polo? Still, it is a big convenience. I did install a sat/nav system in the dash with a back up camera and stereo. I've had it for awhile now but figuring out how to actually use it is another topic. It's a matter of understanding the terminology once again. And then I have to download the appropriate map for it to work offline. It looks good anyway and the radio works. Road Trip!     

 

it's good

 Yesterday was pretty much a day without social media. I had purchased a new computer and was occupied with setting it up. What should have been a relatively easy task, wasn't. The blame for that falls completely on my lack of technical skills. I expect I should have just found a fifth grader to do it. There is certainly nothing wrong with the computer itself, that leaves the operator. Understanding technology wasn't something I thought would become a problem. As it turns out that is pretty much what aging is all about. I have discovered the most important part is in understanding the terminology used. Words and their meanings as they relate to the task at hand. Learning the language of computers. I have to say fortunately there is plenty of help available online if you walk carefully through that minefield. It is a nerve wracking experience. But, in the end, I was successful and I'm up and running once again, faster this time! And, yes it is was quest for a faster, smoother running computer that put me on the road. 

 I did have other chores to get done, mowing the lawn among them, so the whole day wasn't spent in  front of the computer. I have to say, I needed the break. By early evening I did have time for some social media. I found nothing had changed and was quickly amused. There was a meme on there lauding the courage and fortitude of some football player coming out. I had some immediate quips and my fingers headed for the keys. But my better judgement kicked in, I know "don't judge" and I simply typed no comment. The amusement came when a person from cyberspace had to respond to that by saying, and yet you commented. I couldn't resist responding to that. I suggested that perhaps she had taken some inference from that thereby exposing her own bias or prejudice. A little friendly banter, a little back and forth. I was waiting for the name calling to begin and was surprised when it did not. That's an improvement anyway. I bid this unknow person a good evening and a day filled with rainbows and unicorns. Nothing like a good discussion. 

 Tomorrow I leave for a quick trip to upstate New York. My granddaughter Shyann will be graduating from high school. I haven't been able to visit with her in quite some time what with this pandemic and all. It will be nice to see her and wish her well. They grow so quickly. It will take about seven hours to drive there and it isn't too bad. I only drive in the daylight hours now whenever that is possible. That is due to age and I'm told quite normal. I'm suspicious of that however, normal and Ben are seldom used in the same sentence. Still, it is what my optometrist says, right after he suggested cataract surgery. That is now scheduled for September. I don't plan on writing any blogs while on this little trip. That is something that has changed for me, I don't feel nearly as compelled to post a blog as I used to. After ten years I guess some of the magic has worn off. 

 So, there are preparations to make before I go and I am a bit preoccupied. I didn't listen to the news yesterday and as I said, little social media to inspire any thoughts. I still have files and folders to migrate to this computer. I transferred all my files to an external hard drive from my old computer. Before I allow them to migrate onto this new one I will fully "vet" them. I'll be sure they don't have any virus's. I am concerned about illegals! They can be a drain on resources you know. I will spend some time engaged in that today. Well, anyway, I'll be busy for a few days. Life is good.     

living the story

  Laura Rose, my great grand aunt was on my mind most of yesterday. A person I never knew, just a name from the past, but occupying the present day. I know only a tiny piece of her story with no expectation to learn anything more. She passed in 1891 at the age of sixteen and a half, in a family way as the saying goes, and without a husband. The child, as near as I can tell, didn't survive either. Two lives lost. The cause of death is unknown to me and I am in search of the death certificate, surely that will explain. But records from that time are scarce and not always complete. That was one hundred and thirty years ago. Much was not spoken of in those days. I found a possible clue. There was a letter, just days before her death. I wonder just who that letter was from and what the contents may have been. Was the contents of that letter a precipice? Did that letter cause her fall? Of course it could just as easily been completely innocuous. I don't expect I will ever know those answers. Still I went through the day with her on my mind. At the end of the day I concluded that Laura Rose has not been forgotten and perhaps that brings her some rest. I am compelled to write about her, to record her name for posterity. I am well aware of one thing however, all I can tell is a story. A story I compose. It is like I often say, when we are gone all that is left is our story. If you don't write it, someone else will. I can't help but wonder, what would Laura Rose have to say? What is her story? I have been unable to locate her final resting place.

  Is it just curiosity that kept her on my mind? Yes I suppose that would have to be it, what other reason could there be? A second great grand aunt that passed away one hundred and thirty years ago influencing the present. Now I believe the past exists to teach us. What is the lesson Laura Rose is trying to send? I'm thinking it may be as simple as, tell the whole story. I stepped on this path thinking about my mom, her life and her story. She certainly never confided any secrets about any of that with me. I once wrote a story about her Mother, my maternal grandmother, about what I thought her life was like. It upset my mother quite a bit. I was shocked with her response. I didn't think I had written anything unflattering or unfair about Grandmother Bennett. It was written as a history, a story told by one who knew her. I will do the same for my mother one day, although I hesitant. Perhaps Laura Rose is telling me, don't wait, tell the story. 

 Storytellers have the power to create heroes as well as villains. It's a responsibility. With few left to dispute the tale the line between fiction and non-fiction the story can be crafted. The challenge lies in authenticity. Can I truly write an unbiased account? I'd have to say no, I don't believe that is possible. It could be that is what upset my mother so with my story of her mother. Certainly her facts differ from mine. Two sets of facts, for one event? Yes, that is the case and both sets of facts are equally valid. Both were told in the first person, Telling the story of Laura Rose however would be quite a bit different, filled with conjecture and speculation. But the truth is the same can be said about those that we knew and loved. Much of their lives are conjecture and speculation on our parts. Could be that is what ghosts are all about, lives unsettled. It is my thought that by writing the story it can be settled. I'm also thinking maybe it is something you have to do for yourself. When you pass are you happy with the story you have written? You are the only one who knows. RIP Laura Rose, you are not forgotten. Fact is, I'm thinking you are a reminder.   

    

addressing grief

 Just over a month ago my mom passed over, as the saying goes. The permanence of that is beginning to settle in my mind. We all grieve in different ways and at a different pace. My grief strikes when I am reminded of her. Those reminders are scattered about the world. I believe that is a result of the lives we lived. After high school graduation I never lived at home again. In truth, with a two year exception, we didn't live in the same state anymore. And the years passed by as I moved about. I would call often and we had our chats. Physical visits were far and few between. Then Dad passed and things changed a bit. Mom remarried, moved homes once again. Yes she was still my mother but now she was a different person, married to someone else, someone not my father. That certainly made a change to the dynamics. Strange how I began to view Mom as a person, not just Mother. And grandchildren came. And due to distance, time and circumstance Mom seldom saw them. In a strange turn in life my mom was, in a sense, never a grandmother or great grandmother. Oh she had the title alright, justly earned, but she never played the role. Now, with her passing, she will remain mostly a photograph or two, some objects that she created, and stories told. 

 I find myself searching for a home for her memory, a place she exists. I think that is what grieving is all about. It takes times to sort through a lifetime and place the pieces in order. I find I'm not just trying to remember my mother, I'm trying to remember a person. I know what I am supposed to remember, what is expected, but there is more, much more to her than mother. My mother, not such an easy character to portray. The depth of her personality was such that it makes it difficult. Oh I could just record the expected platitudes but she was more. Was she my friend? No, I don't believe we ever reached that plateau. She remained Mom, forever. She always told me, don't speak ill of the dead. I think she believed in that philosophy, as she certainly never shared any secrets about the past with me. But I find myself struggling to define that, to figure out what is "ill" of the dead. The truth certainly can't be ill, can it? Perhaps what she meant was, never voice any displeasure you had with another person once that person has passed. Airing dirty laundry is what that would be called when the person is still living. 

 The bottom line, the final chapter has to include a simple statement, I loved her. I loved her as my mother. She wasn't the easiest person to deal with, I don't believe she endeared herself to many folks. Still I would defend her against an army! The privilege of speaking about her, and her ways, is reserved to me. I have a brother that shares that privilege with me, I can't deny that, but I can contest his statements, as he can mine. I can't help but feel it is left to me to write her story. That could take the form of an elegy. You don't hear about an elegy very often these days. Laments for the dead have fallen out of favor. Today we see roadside markers, decals on car windows, tattoos and for some the renaming of streets or perhaps a plaza. An elegy requires much greater effort in my thinking. An elegy will form the final picture of the person. Different from a eulogy where your grief is expressed, hope for the future offered, and comfort is the goal, an elegy could be called a death poem. The term is ambiguous however, and can take many forms. In whatever form, it is an expression of grief and a means to address that grief. I do owe Mom that much. 

making changes

  The Constitution was ratified and stood alone for two years.  In 1791 the Bill of Rights was added as an amendment. That came about as a result of the anti-federalists concern about a too powerful central government. The Bill of Rights were to guarantee states rights. That is a very simple explanation of what the Bill of Rights is all about. So who were the anti-federalists? Basically what we call Democrats today. And it's also why you will sometimes hear people saying, the parties flipped. In a manner of speaking, you could say that was true. Today, the Democrats want a very strong, very large, central government, as long as they control that government! When they lose that power they flip back into the "states" rights mode once again and become concerned with the people. There concern is the lose of power and influence though. 

 The Bill of Rights are highly regarded and an integral part of the Republic. There isn't anyone that would deny that. But it bears remembering that those rights were written by the losing party following the ratification of the Constitution as a means of securing certain rights. The Democrats don't feel quite the same way about the second amendment today as they did in 1791, I don't think that can be argued. A few of those amendments concern criminal prosecution and what can and can not be done. Apparently there was some concern about that as well. Number nine says, and I'll paraphrase that, just because the Constitution spells out certain rights that doesn't mean others, whatever others are, are retained by the people. really a round about way of saying, just because we lost doesn't mean we lost. And number ten basically says, if the Constitution doesn't specifically say otherwise, all rights are reserved for the states, or the people. Again, basically saying if it doesn't say that exactly, it doesn't count! States rights was one of the foundational principles behind the civil war. That is what the Confederate were saying. No where in the Constitution does it say I can't have slaves, therefore we can! It took until 1865 and the defeat of the south to get the 13th amendment passed to say specifically, you can not have slaves or indentured servants! How many Democrats voted in favor of the 13th amendment? None. How many voted in favor of the 14th amendment? None. Yeah the Democrats weren't too keen on including those. They did however advocate strongly for the sixteenth amendment. That's the one creating a federal income tax! Yes, that was the Democrats idea. That was in 1909 and not much has changed. The plan then was to tax the rich to give to the poor. As I said, not much has changed.

 Now I offer this little bit of history as an example of a basic tenet. If you want things to stay stable, have uniformity, establish a standard, you have to delineate that. That is what the Constitution was written to do. It is clearly stated in the preamble, We the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. And what happened? In two years time amendments were added and amendments are continuing to be added. What has been the result? 

 Well, it is a mixed bag for sure isn't it. Look I'm just saying you can't expect things to stay the same if you keep making changes. John Adams said, our constitution was made only for a religious and moral people. Is that still what we have? Well now that's why we have the separation of church and state in the first place. Everyone has their own thoughts on religion and morality. When the constitution was written no reference to a higher power was included in that wording. Still, in the minds of those composing that document the idea of moral conduct was clear enough in their minds. Ethics were a major component of their lives as well. Remember these were people that would risk their lives, their wealth and their sacred honor for their beliefs. I'm certain they could not imagine the behavior tolerated today, especially by elected officials. Has there been a shift in morality and ethics since that time? Yup, I'd say so. The big one being the abandonment of God or the making of amendments to that covenant established with your God. All Bibles, every single version, say, thou shalt not kill. Many churches today actually support the murder of the unborn. 

 A big change in morality? I'd say so. Yes, people will do that anyway and make a thousand reasons to justify that, it is still in contradiction to what the Bible says. I've heard it said, we don't have to obey the old testament and what is written there, we have the new testament and that's the only one that counts! Basically those folks are saying, God changed his mind, made some amendments. 

The old testament is just a history book. Sodom and Gomorra should be celebrated. Nothing wrong going on there. Marriage vows rewritten to say, Do you take this (insert your desired gender identity here) as your, whatever you choose to call that person, wife, husband , other, whatever. Republics decline into democracies and democracies degenerate into despotisms (Aristotle) Today the Democrats advocate for what? A Democracy, that is what they say all the time. It is really what they have wanted from the beginning of the Republic. From a Democracy a despotism can be achieved, the ultimate power. That's exactly what the Democrats want, absolute power, absolute control of the people. It can be achieved through dependence. First you have to break the bank, something they are good at doing. Some things just never change do they?  

exploiting history?

  What to do with history? That is a question being asked these days, right here in Greensboro, Md. You see the historical society membership is composed mostly of, well those that have seen a lot of history themselves, if you get my drift. I was a member myself for a number of years but have since not been active. I reached a point where I felt my contributions were neither wanted or appreciated. No hard feelings though, I understand the dynamics of it all, I am, after all an outsider. I was not born in Greensboro nor any of my ancestors. When you live in a town of less two thousand that is the way it is. Without a history you don't belong. And it isn't that I was made to feel unwelcome, just that I was always on the outside. I mention all of that merely as background. I am not bitter or anything like that. 

 But the question about what to do with history is being asked by those members. A few have passed and membership is dwindling. There is no permanent home/building to house the collection of artifacts. The finances of the society are very limited indeed. For that reason some are growing concerned. What will happen to these objects? Those that are the custodians today don't want to relinquish control of those things but are aware they can't really provide for their future either. The town itself has no funds for any such thing, and I question whether the town could even be involved in any such "society." I'm not certain but I think the very structure of government will not allow that much beyond a donation. 

 I understand the dilemma as I too grow concerned with my artifacts. What will happen with my history? I wonder if they will cared for, treasured and protected in the same manner as I have. A number of those things are just everyday objects but have a special attachment to me. They contain my memories. I have taken to writing down what each object is and its' significance to me in the hope that will help. Still I'm aware that a crayon drawing made by a grandchild may not seem like much to the very grandchild that drew it. It is only when they become concerned with history that such things take on meaning. I know I have let many artifacts slip through my fingers. If I had only saved this or that. Today is too late.

 I do think as with most things it comes down to finances. How do you finance the historical society? A few fund raisers over the course of the year won't do it. Remember this is local history, and this locale is small. The issue is having a building maintaining that building, and paying all the associated costs. Even if there were only one caretaker, the curator of the museum as it where, the artifacts would be safe. The issue is paying for that housing. I don't know if there is anyone that wants to assume that role, to take the reigns from the current President. I don't know if the current President and administration wants to relinquish that control either. It's a difficult position. I believe that significant contributions demand significant input in the running of the organization. Yes even in a small town historical society politics rears its' head as well. There are those that feel entitled and feelings can get hurt. Bitterness, anger and contempt can poison an organization as quickly as lack of funding. I don't think think that has happened here but it is a reality nonetheless. That's what I am thinking about with funding and power, they are bedfellows. Difficult to have one without the other.

 It has been suggested that I return to the society. I appreciate the offer and the implication that I could be of benefit. The truth is, I don't feel like I could make any significant contribution. After 67 years I have learned a bit about myself. I'm not a leader, I do not inspire others to action, that is not who I am. I hold no such illusions. I'm not much of a follower either. Now I can be loyal but will abandon those that reveal themselves to be deceitful. I just don't like playing games. No, I'm not the person to lead the society forward. When I did attend meetings I always felt like an outsider, treated politely, but not taken seriously. As I said, I understand that and don't take offense, it is what it is. I will say this, had I arrived with a pocketful of cash I would have been received differently, no doubt about that. History and heritage will be surrendered for a profit! It is something I have witnessed in my life. I can see the signs of that happening again, right here in Caroline county. There is money to be made by exploiting a heritage. It's true even when that person never experienced that heritage! If I buy an old tractor, build a farm stand on the side of the road, I'm a farmer. The "tourists" will stop for that local flavor and interact with the locals, as an amusement. All I need to do is play the part. 

 And so the question remains, what to do with history? Exploit it? That seems to be the narrative these days. Well if that is what it takes I guess it is worth it. We have to exploit the past to finance the future. Just how to do that is another matter altogether. I'm hoping someone will figure that out and save all the artifacts Greensboro has preserved. History must be kept alive. 

a bit of history

 It was on this day that James Madison, and the congress of the United States of America, declared war upon Great Britain. June 18, 1812. The United States had had enough. Britain was involved in a war with the French, Napoleon flexing his muscles. As a result of that action Britain was impressing American sailors to serve on their ships! The British were also trying to block us from trade with the French, hurting pocket books in the new country. It was also suspected that the Brits were funding the Native Americans in the west to attack settlers. So, we called out the strongest military in the world! Almost immediately we scored several victories at sea. Monroe was aware our Army couldn't match the British on the ground and so the sea was chosen. Old Ironsides went into battle and defeated the British! Oliver Hazard Perry is possibly the great Admiral of that war. He is interred at the Naval Academy in Annapolis Maryland. Perry forced the surrender of an entire British flotilla, an event never before having taken place in British history! In doing so he sent his famous message, " We have met the enemy and they are ours. " With that defeat American forces on the ground were able to advance into Canada and defeat Tecumseh. With the death of Tecumseh any chance for a alliance of Native American tribes was destroyed also. Westward expansion of the United States would continue unchecked. The war ended in a stalemate on February the 17, 1815. Most of us only remember that in was in the war of 1812 that Washington was burned and that the Star Spangled banner was written by Francis Scott Key as he watched the battle at Fort McHenry. And some remember the battle of New Orleans, Jackson fought that battle after the war was technically over, the forces there just didn't know it. Sometimes called the second War of Independence that war is often forgotten about altogether. 

 The end of that war also marled the end of the Federalist party. By 1850 the name Republican was used in place of Federalist. Although the parties share many of the same ideals they are not exactly the same. The federalist party was formed by Monroe, Hamilton and Jay primarily to advocate for the ratification of the Constitution. What the Constitution says is what they believed. Basic tenets of the party are a strong central government, the three branches of government to contain power, and a fiscally responsible federal budget. With some exceptions that is what the Republicans want today. It would take someone far more informed than I to explain all of that. If you read the federalist papers you would get a good understanding of their thought processes. Perhaps they were a bit naïve in some respects, believing a bit more in honor, morals and ethical behavior than is expected today. Remember these were men that would die for an ideal. At the very least that would be the public persona. Yes, they were just men like all others I have no illusions about that, but perhaps a bit more committed. Public service was an honor and an obligation to those men, not a profitable position. An interesting note is Harry Truman, a Democrat said, "no young man should go into politics if he wants to get rich or if he expects an adequate reward for his services. " Sounds like something Hamilton would have said as Secretary of the Treasury. 

 Well that's a bit of history for this day. The War of 1812. Did you know if you served in that war you were entitled to a land grant? Yes, the government would grant you, as a bounty, 160 acres of land. Many who served received these grants but never lived upon them. Imagine that, 160 acres of land, free of charge.  

get over it

 Can what can't be seen, be cured? I'd say that only happens when the one afflicted says it does. And I'd say that is the vehicle being used ever so often today. An illusion is created to make us see what isn't there. Benefits can be derived from what we can't see. It's a neat little package isn't it? Yes, I think it is. Label me the eternal skeptic but I believe a lot of folks are being bamboozled! But I'm not supposed to question any of that because it is an "unseen" illness. An illness is never the fault of the one that is ill, but the responsibility of someone else to cure. Just because I can't see the illness doesn't mean it doesn't exist. That's the narrative and it is indisputable. It's the very reason I can't say, get over it! Well that is just lacking empathy isn't it? Yes, it is unfeeling, cruel and barbaric! A totally unacceptable response.

 Reality is the issue. That's the way I see it. Reality is too uncomfortable for many. The problem I see is a society that has begun to reinforce the avoidance of reality. Consider this notion of genders. More than two? No, there isn't. Regardless of any "feelings" you may have stark reality will show otherwise. There are many other examples, the renaming of things. Birthing person instead of mother? What the heck? A mother gives birth to her children so yeah, she is a birthing person, duh. And with few exceptions females always birth the young. Yeah, we are not sea horses! Oh and unicorns aren't real either. Another reality is we all get depressed at times, doesn't mean you are a manic depressive. Your neighbor may have more money, more property, and more friends than you do. Your neighbor may also belong to a different race. That's the reality of life. But you say, you can't see my fear, my anguish, my anxiety or my pain. I have to take your word for it, it's an unseen illness. And for that reason you are now an exception to the rule and therefore entitled to bring your emotional support Ostrich on the airplane! Yeah, that seems right.

 You can not modify reality to fit your personal fantasy. That appears to be the problem we are facing today. You can not live your life as an exception. Humans are subject to humanity, imagine that. Bad things happen to good people and good people sometimes do bad things. One action does not justify the other. You can not expect the world to react to your feelings! What I mean is, you should not insist that others accept your feelings as their reality. News flash, they are not! Perhaps all this is a result of the role playing that is so prevalent these days. Adults dressed up as super heroes, cartoon characters, comic book characters, having entire conventions center around that? Cosplay? Really. When I was a child we played roles alright. Cowboys, Indians, Army men, Daddies and Mommies. Real people is what we were emulating. Yes, they were somewhat fictionalized people/examples but they were role models. And we didn't take our teddy bears to high school or college with us insisting others believe that was just fine. Emotional support was achieved through intestinal fortitude, yes that,  and we prayed. Instead of surrendering to emotion we learned to apply logic to solve our problem. And that was up to us, not someone else. 

 But, you can't see that. I should just take your word for it. Believe the experts! There are experts for everything, seen and unseen. I can produce experts to counter the experts. Who is the popular expert today? We have people holding  Phd's insisting they know the answers to questions not yet asked, they are experts. The same experts that change their mind every few years on fundamental issues. What was abnormal behavior in the not too distant past is now fine? Just because a behavior is accepted doesn't make it right. And that is another reality many are attempting to avoid. But I understand, I can't see any of that, you are the exception to the rule and I should support you in that. Whenever I don't agree with you I am causing you anxiety! Yeah, it's my fault, I should correct that. The reality is, I won't. Get over it. 

gradually

  I got up, turned on the computer as usual, and the first thing I see is a reminder. An underclassman, from my high school days was asking others about planning their fifty year class reunion. That reminded me, I graduated fifty years ago this month! Yes, that happened in the last century, five decades ago, fifty years, six hundred months, two thousand six hundred and seven weeks or eighteen thousand two hundred and fifty days! Yeah, it's been a while. I've known all along and yet somehow I'm surprised yet again. Just how did that happen? The "new" school building is now fifty years old! My class was the very first one to graduate from that building. Fifty years is generally considered the age at which a building could be designated a historic landmark. The car I drove to school is classified not only classic, but antique. 

 So I was born mid century, that would be the twentieth century, and have now made it twenty one years into the new millennium. Who could have known those that wouldn't make it into the next century. It's a bit of a shock at times, all that has transpired. I was around for 47 years of the last century and have been paying attention, rather closely, to the first twenty one of this one. I have to say, comparatively speaking, this century isn't off to a great start! I can say for sure that from the 1950's until the end of the century things were improving. Sure there were rough patches, Presidents were shot, protesting, marching on Washington, women's lib, race relations, a few wars and conflicts. But we got through them all pretty much with our dignity intact. I don't think that can be said of the first twenty one years of this century! 

 In September of 2001 the twin towers, the pentagon, and another aircraft down! I remember all of that vividly, as vividly as my parents remembered Pearl Harbor. Difference being, they never forgot. Today there are many twentysomethings that have forgotten. Many are making apologies to those that attacked us! Yes, just a bit of a different attitude I'd say. Then there was the Boston bombing. The invasion of Iraq,  natural disasters, and the election of Donald J Trump as President. Yes, the later has to be included as a major event in American history. No matter your personal opinion, for good or bad, that was a moment in American history that will be remembered. It did change the political landscape, forever.

 I've sure seen a lot happen in the last fifty years. I've seen the changes in morals, ethics and political rhetoric. Of those things I am keenly aware. It is the same things my parents were talking about, in the last century. I am beginning to understand that old adage, the more things change the more they remain the same. Being on social media and having interaction with some of those I went to school with that observation has been proven out. There are those I agree with and those that I don't. It's the same as when I was in high school. There are different groups and apparently that doesn't change much even after fifty years. I'm certain the same can be said about myself and my social circle. It really is the "birds of a feather" thing. You know the thing is, I didn't care all that much back then about any of that stuff. I just went about being me. I saw others trying to be something different, you know, the "cool" kids concerned with fashion, friends, and status. Yeah, not much has changed really. You know it was twenty nine years into the last century, 1929, when the stock market crashed! It's looking like that may happen a bit earlier in this century. History does have a way of repeating itself. What caused that crash? Economists have different opinions but most agree, the proliferation of debt, struggling agricultural business and large bank loans that could not be liquidated led to that. Sound familiar? It should it is what is happening right now. Our government is deeply in debt! The general population is deeply in debt! The farmers are struggling! 

 Then came FDR the savior of America with his "new deal." By 1936 the term liberal was in common usage to describe this new deal. The new deal was more and larger government. The problem with that was it destroyed the federal budget, plunging the government into debt without ending massive unemployment. It wasn't a raging success as many today like to credit FDR for. You could argue the same policy is being enacted today with the government spending, and indeed, the proposal to spend three trillion more! 

 Well, fifty years isn't that long a time really when taken in the context of history. It is just that we need to be reminded every now and again. When I was in that high school, fifty years ago and walked across that stage, I never expected to live history. History was just something we took because we had to. Now, I'm living history!  Imagine that. Graduated? Well, it's a gradual thing, takes a while to understand the lessons. Fifty years on and I'm still learning. Apparently, some never do.  

searching

  Doors open and doors close. As we age, as time goes by, we revisit the rooms of the past. Sometimes in those rooms we reunite with old friends and acquaintances, at others we met new. That thought came to me this morning after having visited some relatives. We hadn't seen those folks in a while, life having taken us in different directions. But yesterday the door opened and in we went. 

  Now I wouldn't say I was a particularly religious person, a student of the scriptures or a theologian. Still, I do recall a passage that says, my fathers house contains many rooms. That's what followed the thought about doors opening and closing. My fathers house was representative of heaven, at least that is my interpretation of that biblical passage. We do think of heaven as being somewhere else, up there somewhere, but perhaps heaven is really right here on earth. That would explain all the rooms things. It could be the reason for all the good and bad. Some rooms are good places, others not so much. We can't choose what rooms to enter but we can choose in what rooms to stay. Heaven and hell is all about choices isn't it? That is what I was taught. It is also what I have experienced so far in life. Good choices lead to good results, poor choices lead to poor results. I've also noticed that the majority of the time I made the choice, it wasn't forced upon me. Yeah, I'm responsible for that, generally speaking. 

  Something else I have noticed is the older you get, the more you like to visit the past. Perhaps it is nothing more than seeking comfort in the familiar. I've been there before and enjoyed it, like a favorite restaurant or fishing hole. I think maybe it is like going to a museum or art gallery, you've seen it all before but keep going back. It doesn't happen every time but sometimes you see something new, something you hadn't noticed before. The emotional response to that covers the full spectrum. You are faced with a new reality. You thought you knew, you expected this, but you got that. It's an interesting thing really, the older you get, the more interested you are in the past. You start living your life in review. But in doing so you are armed with the knowledge of what was behind the doors. The question being asked is, does it remain? It is a matter of self validation. Choices made. But then again maybe all of this, what we call life, is just circumstantial. Maybe all we can do is keep searching the rooms. 

Dignity?

  I saw in the news that Congress has voted to make the Pulse Nightclub a national memorial. It was five years ago that a deranged gunman killed 49 people and wounded 53 others. This nightclub was an LGBTQ establishment. The gunman was killed and so the reason for the attack is not known for certain, although assumptions can be made. Can anyone really know the mind of a mad man? This designation as a National Memorial does not come with national funding. It's purpose is to serve as a memorial for hope, love, and unity. That is what Congress says. 

 I have mixed feelings about that. A nightclub as a memorial? Whereas all those that were killed or injured certainly deserve to be remembered designating a nightclub as a memorial just doesn't seem right. I just think that perhaps a more appropriate symbol could have been chosen. I'm not opposed to a national memorial to honor those lost, to serve as a reminder, I just have reservations about the choice made. Given that we have chosen to fly the Gay flag over our embassies, paint it on walls, and hold parades celebrating the Gay folks, along with a month designated to be proud of being Gay, choosing a nightclub as a national memorial just seems, well, strange. Yes, I get it, people were targeted, most likely for their sexual preferences and there were at the club. Still, in my thinking it is a strange choice. A nightclub that advertises the hottest Go-Go dancers and A-list drag queens and encourages people to experience the Gay nightclub scene. A national memorial? This club is still operating to this day, surely that designation will increase profits! Will they be giving tours to school children? 

 Look I'm just saying I don't feel like designating a night club as a national memorial is appropriate. I would support designating a memorial for that tragic event as an educational tool. I'm not against remembering the victims. I am also against those roadside memorials that have become so popular in the last few years. You know the ones, a cross or flowers placed where the car crash happened, where someone died. I don't like those decals on peoples cars either, when I pass please don't make it into a bumper sticker. That is just my sensibilities. Dignified is what I am talking about. Is there dignity in a  nightclub? Any nightclub? 

 So what happens when the nightclub closes. As a business can we expect it to remain open forever. Isn't a National Memorial forever? What do we do then? Will the government purchase the property, enshrine it as a national memorial site. Will we promote the site as, come see where the bodies fell! Or does the club get bulldozed and one of those signs posted on the spot? I don't believe any of this was really thought through. This is just a reaction to community activists. Not that those activists aren't justified in their desire that the event never be forgotten, that the lives lost be remembered, just the designation of a nightclub as a memorial is misguided in my opinion. It's almost as though the Pulse Nightclub has now been designated as the Mecca for the LGBTQ community. I just question the dignity of the whole thing, just doesn't seem dignified to me. My opinion, yours may differ. 

not sorry

  I used to think of history as facts. History is what was, what happened, inflexible and unchanging. It was useful information to have, I always understood that aspect of it, but not so much the why of it. I discovered that history was often just the telling of perception. I of course grew up with American history as it was taught to me in elementary and high school. It was taught from the American perspective. Today that view is changing and apparently is coming as quite a shock to many. The narrative today is one of apology. We (Americans) did this or that and we are sorry for it. The tale is how we "Americans" abused all the immigrants that were simply yearning to be free. Yet at the same time we are being told America is a nation of immigrants. So what the story really is, immigrants formed a nation and proceeded to abuse other immigrants? That seem to be the view of history I'm hearing today. A history as told by whom? 

 When I was young that history was taught and told by Americans. Naturally it was a biased view, no surprise there, even then I knew the winner gets to tell the story. Even then I knew the loser always looked for an excuse, a reason, some impediment that prevented their victory. It was just that I was taught it was the righteous justice of the American people that prevailed. The United States never started any wars, we just won the ones we were in. As far back as the colonies that was true. The King was imposing taxes upon the people, abusing us, and we had no choice! The Boston Tea party was just a peaceful protest! We were absolutely just in staging such a protest. Heck we even had a war with ourselves! We didn't start a war with other countries, we were fighting for the America those patriots of the past fought for. The land of the free and the home of the brave. A land were all men were created equal with liberty and justice for all. There was a faction of people in the south that wanted otherwise, they tried to divide the nation. They attacked Fort Sumter, they started a war! The northern states, consisting of Americans, true Americans, fought to preserve the union. That reason was right there, in the Declaration of Independence, for all to read. It says, " Prudence indeed, dictates that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes;" our government had been in existence 85 years when the southern forces attacked. What were their reasons? They wanted to retain their cheap labor, they wanted the individual states to have more power than a central government. They wanted to change the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. Americans had no choice but to defend against that threat! The world wars were the same way, we got dragged into them and we won! In the years that followed we were obligated to help our allies and friends. We had to fight. 

 That was the history I was taught. Where the facts correct? Depends on who is telling the tale doesn't it? Yes, it certainly does. But the tale isn't as important as the moral of the story. We all know that, or should know that anyway. The great tales from the past that teach us about honor, loyalty, respect, and faith. The knights of the round table. The crusaders' battle for the holy land, who that land is holy too is still debated today. The great novels that have been written like the old man and the sea or Don Quixote. It makes no difference if the story is true or not, it is the moral of the story that is important. History should inspire man to greater deeds. In order to accomplish that man has to believe the history. And today we have to believe in America! 

 America is indeed a land of immigrants. Immigrants that transformed themselves into Americans! I'm an American, not any other nationality that lives in America. My ancestors lived in other nations at some point in history that is true, that is history. What I don't understand are Americans attempting to transform themselves into immigrants. They are doing that by claiming some nationality that they identify with for many different reasons. African-Americans? Are all black peoples from Africa? Certainly not, but most dark skinned people in the country today will claim they are. They base that on Alex Haley, the author of Roots. Are all Latino people from Mexico? No, there are many lands they come from. Are all white people Europeans? No, that isn't true either. I have ancestors that came from the Nordic lands, doesn't make me a Viking! 

 What I'm trying to say is history should inspire us to greater deeds not demand our apology. You can not achieve greatness by being apologetic. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings by throwing that tea in the harbor your Majesty it won't happen again. And to the Japanese, you shouldn't have bombed Pearl Harbor on Sunday morning but we understand your feelings, we will just surrender to avoid further confrontation. We understand that your religion inspired your attack on the world trade center, the pentagon and we will try to be more inclusive, more understanding in the future. 

 I can't speak for others but as for me. America is the greatest country on the face of the earth and I don't apologize to anybody for the history of my nation. The King abused his people and we weren't having that. We were completely and absolutely justified in what we did! Although slavery wasn't the driving factor in the war between the states it did end it, 85 years after our nation was formed! The British and many other nations around the world were still practicing that. My nation abolished it! I'm proud of that not proud that slavery once existed in my country, just proud that it was abolished, forever! The Japanese attacked us, America, and we defended our land. I'd say we brought that war to an end! You asked for it! I'm not apologizing for any of that. So do not attempt to rewrite history! You are not rewriting history you are just telling a story. I don't believe your story. I believe in the accomplishments of the past and use them as inspiration for the future. I'm not defeated until I lose. America hasn't lost yet and it won't begin with me. I'm not sorry. Nothing to be sorry for. 

time encapsulated

  I took a closer look at an old photograph my Mom had saved and given to me some years back. This photograph was taken in 1964 by a professional photographer. Yes, it was an event back then, like getting school pictures taken, a rare event. My parents were not ones to take the family for pictures like some did. Dad had a Kodak box camera and that is what was used. Later on he did have a Polaroid Land camera, the latest invention and a miracle of modern technology. Imagine a camera that developed the picture itself! 

 This photograph is of St. Lukes Church, Jr. Choir, the attar boys. and Reverend Davis along with his assistant. As I looked closer at that picture I realized that all my siblings are in that picture. I guess I had forgotten. My oldest brother Harold was carrying the Church flag, he is standing in the rear on the right. brother Dan and  sister Millie are there in the choir with me. Pictures with all four of us children in it are few and far between. Yes indeed a rare picture. There is another, taken when I was maybe three or four, with all four us standing in a line, in Union suits, standing by the Christmas tree. Dad took that shot. My sister had it copied. She gave each one us a copy in an frame with our names engraved into it, a Christmas gift. 

 The thing is I looked at that picture from 1964, it doesn't seem all that long ago, I got to thinking about dates, birthdays and all of that. If its' 1964 I'm eleven. That picture was always about me. Isn't that the way we tend to think about such things? Mom had saved that picture for many years and gave it to me because, I'm in it. When I show that picture to others it is to show them I'm in the picture. But time has a way of maturing us doesn't it? Time will definitely give you a new perception of past events. That picture taken in 1964 makes brother Harold, the oldest, 17. If he is 17 that means he was born in 1947. Wait a minute, 1947, only two years after WW2? Seems like a long time ago. And Harold passed away six and a half years ago this year.  A lifetime that I was witness too. In 1964  Harold joined the Navy. Memories come flooding back. After 1964 our family was never all together in the same house. Who could have known? A photograph that provides clues. Well, not clues to me, but reminders. As a person that does genealogy I'm aware that old photographs can be clues. evidence of the past. That is why I always talk about identifying the people, places and time in the photographs. I admit I talk about the importance of doing that more than I actually do it. 

 I did post that picture to social media as there are many others in the picture. I remember some of the faces and others just look "familiar" know what I mean? Remembering names and faces is not a strong suit of mine. I always say I would be the worst person to have as an eye witness to anything. The person on the wanted poster could be standing next to me as I looked at the poster and I probably wouldn't know it. I have an old class photograph, fifth grade I think, and can only name a few of those folks today. Fortunately I did have help with that and most have been identified now. I apologize for that. Other things I remember extraordinarily well. The things that interest me the most I suppose. Old cars, old songs and personal moments. I have found that young people grown old, I don't remember so much. LOL.  

 And so now that picture takes on more meaning. It isn't a picture of me, it is a picture of time. Time captured to be viewed whenever the mood strikes. Currently I'm using that photograph as my desktop background. Yes, I still prefer my desktop computer. I just purchased a curved monitor, a larger size for easier viewing. That picture is for my enjoyment alone, it holds my memories. When it was taken I was only concerned for myself, I'm in the picture. A singularity. Today that isn't the case. Today it is so much more, so much time encapsulated into a moment.   

  

  

the ordinary citizen

  Was doing some more thinking about heritage after writing yesterdays post. I began to think that perhaps our heritage is nothing more than what we wish we had. That is to say, claiming a story, a legacy that we have fabricated. I wonder if that is a sign of being dissatisfied with your own past. As an example I have done much work on the family tree. I began with my third great grandfather and his service in the civil war. The truth is he spent more time in the hospital, sick, not battle wounded. He never participated in a major battle like Gettysburg or Bull run. Fact is, his service was undistinguished, just the ordinary foot soldier. The ordinary person. And it is that thought I'm associating with heritage. Perhaps when we feel we are just ordinary people, nothing special, nothing different, we begin to associate ourselves with the past, our heritage. It does come with an implied knowledge. In my case, that implication would be that I know a great deal about the water, commercial fishing, and about the bay. That isn't true however, I only have a rudimentary knowledge about all of that. I'm retired from the Navy and there is a certain implication that goes with that. The image of the sailor. Well, I'm not that either. I'm just me, the ordinary citizen. Thing is I feel no need to claim a heritage, although there can be advantages to doing so. Claiming a certain heritage can lend some weight to whatever image you are attempting to portray. A lot depends upon your location when it comes to that. I wonder if that is a conscious decision. 

  Can you capitalize on the achievements of your ancestors? Well, I'm not so sure that you can, although the children of celebrities often do just that. Is that it? Attempting to grasp a bit of celebrity? I'm thinking that may be so in the case of "lost" heritage. An example of that could be a whaler. Not a popular figure today in some circles but certainly heroes of the past. Captain Ahab, the great white whale and other tales of the sea. The whole thing conjures up scenes in our minds. Are they factual? Probably not, the reality of that lifestyle surely wasn't glamourous or necessarily profitable. Same with being a Pirate. Still there are those that would claim both as a heritage. My fourth great grandfather, his brother, and many members of that family were 'round the world whalers. I claim no heritage from that. I don't think I have any Pirates in the family tree. The truth is, as far as I know, my ancestors were all just ordinary people. No cowboys, Indians, Princes or Pirates. No war heroes, no genius inventors or sports figures. No, just people that lived ordinary lives for the time they lived. So that is my heritage. I'd say I fit the bill and I am fine with that. 

  I'm fine with that because I feel like that is a good heritage. Wealth isn't a heritage. Fame isn't a heritage. Heritage is an inheritance from those that you know, love and admire. Those folks don't have to be rich or famous. I'd suggest if you grew up with those folks they are indeed just "ordinary" folks to you. That would be so on a personal level, don't you think? Isn't that what your hear celebrities say all the time. I just want someone to like me for me, not for who I am. I wouldn't know anything about that but I think I know what they mean. I'm not what some think I may be, good or bad. Forming an opinion about me, based on your perception of my past, because I claim a certain heritage? Is that what is going on? I should be afforded this or that because of my heritage? Because of what may or may not have been? As far as I can determine I have had family members in every war and conflict since the American revolution and probably well before that. As far as I can determine not one of them was a hero. Just an ordinary foot soldiers. As for me, I'm just the ordinary guy. I'm good with that. I have to say I wouldn't mind being the wealthy ordinary guy. I don't need to be extraordinarily wealthy. Well, whatever the case  case I was just thinking about all of that.        

defending heritage

  I left my hometown 45 years ago. What an amazing fact when I think about that. I was twenty three years old. I first left when I was eighteen, off to the Navy for four years. Then, back home! Circumstance caused me to reenlist, leave that place for the last time. I have only been back to visit three times that I can remember. Still, in my mind that is home and will always be home. That is the land I am native too! That is what all of us feel about the place of our birth and raising. At least that's what I think anyway. It would seem these days many want to lay claim to the land of their ancestors as their own land, even when they have never set foot upon that land. We call it out heritage. And what is a heritage? Is it something inherited. Can you inherit what you never had? That is to say what you never experienced? It's my feeling that you can't. I also feel like heritage is an ever changing thing with each generation. I have ancestors that were Swedish, they were steel makers living in the mountains. I know nothing of making steel, living in the mountains or being Swedish. Other ancestors of mine were German folks, farmers. I know nothing of the German peoples, they are just names and dates in the family tree. I have no heritage from any of those groups, none. No, my heritage comes from my parents and grandparents, Americans one and all. They all were born and lived in America, well except for Grandmother Bennett that is, Swedish born she came to this land in 1899 at the age of 16. She did have a small Swedish flag in her china cabinet and would sometimes tell us kids stories of her home, but to me, she was as American as the apple pie she baked. 

  My heritage is what I retain from my childhood days. That is what I inherited from my parents, my siblings and my peers. I continue to inherit those things even until the present day. It's true that all my grandparents are passed, my parents are passed, two of my siblings are past, and all I have are memories of them , their memory is my inheritance. An inheritance that is solely mine. And that too, is what inheritance is all about. It's an archaic definition of the word, seldom used these days, but heritage means a special or individual possession. The love from your grandparents, parents, siblings, peers and others is your heritage. You can not lay claim to a heritage you never had! It's my feeling that many are getting confused by all of that. They are attempting to adopt the memories of others as some sort of utopian state that will grant them special status or benefit. Claiming that as a heritage. 

  I was thinking about that as I read comments and remembrances on social media sites that I belong to. A few are concerned with just that topic, sharing a commonality. We all come from the same county, town, hamlet, or neighborhood. All claiming a common heritage, in a general sense. We share the same customs, traditions, trades, and circumstances. We may share the same high school mascot or nick-name. Identifiers for a specific area. We are, (fill in the blank) such as Hoosiers, Texans, Cajuns, or whatever. And with the adoption of that identifier we are expected to "know" certain things, certain phrases or landmarks. Those things that make you what you what you claim to be. Are you the genuine thing? 

  That is another portion in all of this that I was thinking about. The changing of heritage with each generation. I'm seeing two generations past my own these days. I have children and grandchildren. The grandchildren are entering young adulthood, out on their own, carrying their heritage with them. Thing is, their heritage isn't exactly the same as mine. They don't have the same memories as I do, although we certainly have memories to share. They can not lay claim to knowing anything other than what they have been told, about my heritage. 

  What I find even more interesting is how it appears heritage has changed even with my peers, those that I went to school with, those that I grew up with. That become apparent when I read some of those postings and comments on social media, in those sites. What I have come to understand though is it isn't their heritage that has changed, it is mine. The things I remember were at least 45 years ago! Now, if you are in your forties, like my children are, and a particular place has been there for thirty five years or more that is your whole life! That's your heritage. In my mind that place doesn't exist, or least it didn't, it's something new. As an example I still call the high school I graduated from the "new" school. That school is 45 years old! I discover things like that often on those sites when others are chatting about this or that. Sometimes we attempt to prove how far back we remember, as a sign of our heritage, as that somehow makes you just a bit superior in some fashion. But I think it is just the ability to say something, to relate a story, without question. When you are the only one that was there, you get to tell the story. That is your heritage. It's not quite the same when you say, my father told me or I heard that from my grandfather. Somehow that just doesn't carry the same credence. 

 I am responsible for the heritage of my children. That is something I don't believe many of us realize until those children are grown. The addition of grandchildren shines a light on that. I don't have great grandchildren yet but I imagine that would also increase your awareness of that. I am named after my father. That was my Mothers choice, not my dad's, although he never told me what name he would have picked. It's really not important though. Like most children I wanted to grow up to be like Dad. I was raised by his experience, his heritage. Perhaps one of my proudest moments was when it was said about me, well Ben Reichart isn't dead, he lives right there in Greensboro! That wasn't intended as a compliment though, as it was a reference to my dad. My father had, shall we say, a strong resolve. I inherited some of that resolve. That is my heritage. It isn't the place, it is the philosophy or those around you that creates heritage. Well, at least those that you love and admire. It is the combined input from all of those folks, over years, that creates a heritage. It is the defense of heritage that defines a nation. The commonality of being American is the bedrock of the Republic. It is heritage. 

calling home

  After you lose someone their memories reappears at unusual times. Could be a word spoken, a sunset or a can of soup in the cabinet that triggers a memory. I think it remains that way until that memory finds a home in your mind. Then you can go there whenever you wish to visit that person. But, until that happens you run into that memory everywhere you go, at times inconveniently. You can get lost in memory as easily as you can in thought. For some that never seems to happen and with others it happens quite quickly. The speed in which that happens is often viewed as a measure of the love we had for that person. It is that way with others, not with the one coping. If you take too long you are told to get over it, too soon and you are heartless. The correct period of time is somewhat of a mystery, a subjective thing based in perception. It is even possible for that process to instill doubt in your own thoughts and mind. Are you grieving sufficiently? But then grief is a personal thing and as such a personal issue to deal with. In the final analysis the only person living with that grief is yourself and that is who you have to be comfortable with. 

  A memory of my mother came to me the other day. That memory came as I saw a picture of a dial telephone. It was a photo of a kitchen, an older kitchen not unlike the one I grew up in, with a telephone hung on the wall. It was a tan colored phone with a long tangled cord going to the handset. That cord allowed you to walk about while talking and Mom often did just that. A flood of memories came to me. And then, for no reason at all, a memory rushed at me. I was overseas, on my very first deployment, I must have been in England because I remember the phone booth. I had called the operator, to place a long distance call, collect. I remember my mother answering that call and the operator asking if she would accept the charges, she did. I told her where I was and she was so excited to hear from me. She had called for Dad who I could hear in the background saying what do you want? Later I heard him say, how much is this costing us? Can't blame him, long distance, collect, from England! We finished our talk and said our goodbyes once again. I would call her a few more times during that six month deployment and each time she accepted time and charges. Dad always griped about that but I knew he didn't really mind at all. That was just his way of saying, thanks for calling.

 As I remembered that whole scenario it came to my mind. I can't call home any more. My father, mother, brother and sister are all gone now, no calling them. I do have a brother that I can call though, brother Dan lives in Georgia. We really haven't stayed in touch much over the years for no particular reason. We have both just been busy. Isn't that what we tell ourselves? Oh how I wish I could dial Mom's number now and get a busy signal. That signal at least told you she was home, but no more. Now the message is, that number is no longer in service. Yes, my brothers and sister are my family, they are an integral part of my past. Still, when I think of home I think of Mom and Dad, in the house I grew up in. Even though Dad passed thirty one years ago, that house torn down, with the passing of my mother I had a stark realization, I can't call home, ever. 

 Mom's number is still in my contacts list, I can't bring myself to remove it. She never sent a text in her life, or sent a picture from her phone. I do have lots of reminders from her all over my home. Things she made and a few notes that she wrote. We had a history with telephone calls. For a while I would call her early every Sunday morning. Then I heard she was bothered by that, me calling at the crack of dawn! My feelings were hurt a bit and I didn't call early or as often. That passed however and I called her often. Those last few conversations were some of the best. It seemed like years were melting away and we were just remembering together. So much more I wish I had asked, and some things I wish I had never said. But there is no calling home now, I'll just have to wait until I can go visit. No hurry you understand, Mom and Dad will be home.    

lesson learned

  It was probably back in '63 or maybe sooner when I was playing Army. A new boy had moved into the neighborhood, a boy my own age. Living on a dirt road, on the edge of the woods, there weren't many kids close by so this was exciting. This house, at the end of the lane, was owned by an artist. We were told he was going overseas to paint, probably Paris, all the artists go to Paris. While he was gone the house was being rented. This is what we now call section eight housing, I don't know what they called it then, those folks were on welfare. None of that mattered to me of course, I was about ten years old. It was pretty cool having someone right there you could play with. Before that all I had was my sister and two older brothers. They would play when bored enough but never for long. My sister didn't like playing Army and my brothers always won! But now I had reinforcements.  

 Back in those days all the kids were playing Army, running around with toy rifles, pistols, hand grenades and I had a bazooka! I had an army helmet and a jacket with stripes on it. Those Nazi's were always a threat, as well as the Japs. Yes, that what we called them, every offensive name we knew! Well, they were the enemy after all. It was a different time back then, different sensibilities. So we went to battle for America, for freedom and justice every day! Looking back I have to say it was a great time to be a kid. We were what they might call, free range, back then. The older you got, the more you showed responsibility, the bigger the range became. At ten my range was the neighborhood, within shooting distance of Mom. If she called, the war stopped, arms were laid down and you retreated! You didn't question the General. 

 Now this boy had a sister too, a bit older than us. I don't recall her ever hanging out or being friends with my sister, although they went to school together. We all rode the same bus. His sister decided to pay army along with us one day. She announced she would be the nurse. Now this was before I had given any serious thought to Drs. and nurses, if you get my meaning. So, child like her brother and I welcomed her to join in the fight. She set up the hospital, her bedroom, and said she would wait for the wounded. We ran around shooting at imaginary enemies and ducking bullets. We got grazed a few times and had to make a quick trip to the medic. After we told her what the wounds was, mostly just a flesh wound, that happened to cowboys on television all the time, she would fix us up. This was great. When we went to the hospital we would get drinks from our canteens, sometimes a snack and return to the fight. Then it happened! I had just returned to the hospital after having been almost blown up by a hand grenade! I heard the General recalling the troops! Telling the nurse I had to go she insisted I get bandaged up before I go, I was bleeding from the head. Yes, she told me it was quite a wound and required a big bandage. Luckily she had just what I needed. And so, I stood there, like an idiot, as she wrapped a Maxi-Pad around my head. Thank God they didn't yet have wings! Oblivious to just what that item was or its' actual use, I started to run home in response to the General. 

 I remember it distinctly, Mom stranding on the front porch looking up the road. She was obviously mad, her hands were on her hips! As soon as I came into sight she was hollering, hurry up, I've been calling you for an hour. So, I picked up speed and rushed into the yard. It was then she yelled, what's on your head? Before I could answer she realized exactly what was on my head! I was ordered to remove that immediately! To say that order was given forcefully would be an understatement. I was asked, what the hell is wrong with you? That question followed by a string of expletives! Mom was really upset, she never said things kike that! She even said, hell! I had no idea what the big deal was all about and she wasn't about to explain that to me. I was told, wait until your father gets home! Dad did get home but said nothing. The topic of the bandage was never spoken of again. Looking back I'm sure the Nurse thought it was hilarious. She must have gotten quite the laugh out of that. I did learn a lesson though, never go home with your bandages still on, scares your Mother. And when Mom is scared you get in trouble. Better to return from the war unscathed!  

are you good with that?

  Who we really are. I think the majority of us spend our lifetime trying to figure that out or to come to terms with that. The great philosophers in Ancient times struggled with that and it continues to this day. The authentic self. Is that self what we really are or what we wish others to believe it is? That's the question. We all seek validation in some form or another. We do want others to tell us what we are, but we want that to agree with what we wish we were. The further apart those two things are, the more angst we find in our lives. Just why that is depends upon your philosophical bent. Do you believe you are an independent person, that your choices determine your future? You might be an existentialist. That is in its' simplest understanding anyway, I don't pretend to be an expert on any of that. I tend to think more like Socrates did,  that I don't know the answers but instead focus on the questions. Socrates was interested in establishing an ethical code for all of society, for all mankind. A pretty lofty goal  I would say. But I think he was just really telling others his opinions. Certainly he believed in his method of reasoning. You could say, he believed in himself! And today learned scholars have written volumes about him, both good and bad, attempting to define him, to say who he really was. 

  How do you define yourself? By your job, your wealth, your popularity, your "education" level? I put education in parenthesis because obtaining degrees and diplomas doesn't really define education in my opinion, there are a lot of educated damn fools in the world. Do those definitions really define you who are though? No, I don't think that they do. they are simply components of the whole. Who we are is far more complex than any of that. Perhaps we are so complex that we can't understand ourselves. If you believe in God that would certainly be true, it would have to be. We can't know the mind of God! The best we can do is emulate our perception of what God is and how God would react to any given situation. And as we all know, that is subject to interpretation, what I sometimes call, a more convenient faith. See a lot of that these days. The Catholic church is struggling what that right now, in a big way. There are those that openly disagree with the Pope. Not the first time in history, but certainly a major rift. 

 Are we our own God? If that is the case we can then do as we please without divine repercussions, only civil authority is the danger. I don't think anyone believes they are a God, but deny the existence of a God. In that situation civil authority then defines who we are. Then we should react in response to that civil authority without question, without independent thought. The civil authority is God. That's not right though and we all know that. Our founding fathers certainly knew that as they separated church from state. The idea was, the Church would define who we are as a people, the government would regulate civil matters. They even wrote, all men are created equal as an expression of that idea. Anyone could lead! It is up to you to define your role in the world. We all start on equal footing. Small children do not know prejudice, wealth, poverty, social status, appearance or any of that. All that is learned. 

 Who we really are. How do we measure that? What do we compare that against? I'd say we compare it to those that we admired in the past. We learn from others and begin to emulate them. It is often said, "he is just like his father" or something similar. That can be a good thing or a bad thing depending upon your view. Can we really control that? Can we really control who we become? Well, we are back to the beginning aren't we? I'm thinking it is not about who we become, as much as it is accepting who we are. Are you good with that?  

equal in death?

  Seventy seven years ago, on the beaches of Normandy two women fell in combat. Dolores Brown and Mary J Barlow. Lest we forget. BTW, did you know they were members of the only all black, all female unit in World War Two? They came from Connecticut. They are interred at Normandy, their graves marked by crosses, alongside all the others. In death, all are equal. Or at least that is what one would believe. A third lady, PFC Mary Binkston died of injuries a few days after the first two.

I had never heard about any of that until a few years ago. These ladies were member of the 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion. This battalion had been created in July of 1943 in response to a tremendous backlog of undelivered mail and packages. There were literally warehouses full of that. The Army command was not providing any soldiers to do the job, all needed for combat and so the Army at least relented and created this outfit. These ladies underwent a few weeks of training, including physical training in self defense. They were deployed to Europe, specifically England, to begin the task of mail distribution to the troops. As you can well imagine mail was an important component of morale. These ladies took the task very seriously and persevered despite prejudice from not only their race, but their gender.

I found an interesting article on the web that tells all about them. It's worth reading for certain. for me, It isn't because of their gender or color, but because of the service they provided. Having spent months deployed while in the Navy I can tell you from first hand experience just how important a card or letter from home can be. It is something very difficult to describe but they can be a lifeline to your sanity! The postal clerks rarely receive any attention at all until the mail isn't delivered or distributed quickly. They are not given medals often, barely recognized they toil in obscurity. Yet the postal clerks do perform a very important role. Those ladies had their lives taken from them in an attempt to deliver their mail, to discharge their mission.

 "While in Rouen, the 6888th experienced a tragedy. On 8 July 1945, PFC Mary J. Barlow and PFC Mary H. Bankston were killed in a jeep accident, and Sergeant Dolores M. Browne died on 13 July from injuries resulting from the accident. Since the War Department did not provide funds for funerals, the women of the 6888th pooled their resources to honor their deceased members. First Lieutenant Dorothy Scott found three unit members who had experience with mortuary work to take care of the bodies, and unit members paid for caskets. Memorial services were organized and held for the deceased, and Major Adams wrote to inform their families in the United States of their fate. Sergeant Browne, PFC Barlow, and PFC Bankston were buried with honors in the Normandy American Cemetery at Colleville-sur-Mer.14"

 That is an excerpt from an article I found online describing this outfit and the job they performed. That paragraph was especially poignant to read. Their comrades in arms had to not only prepare the bodies but pay for all the expenses involved in interring them. How could that have been allowed to happen? Still, they were laid to rest with full honors in a place of honor. American soldiers in the American cemetery at Normandy. I salute their memory, their service and their legacy. Their story should be told. 

Included here is the link to the article I referenced if you would like to read the whole article. I recommend that you do. 

 6888th Central Postal Directory Battalion | U.S. Army Center of Military History 

 

my opinion

 Slept in a bit this morning and I feel a little guilty. We really are creatures of habit aren't we? Some more so than others, but we are all subject to that. We settle into a comfortable routine. But this morning I slept in and now feel like I'm behind schedule. Things is, I don't have a schedule. I'm retired, I have no where I need to be at a certain time, well except for Drs. appts that is. Doctor appts do give us a sense of routine don't they? Can't miss them? With your job you might get in trouble, you might get fired, but with Doctors, you might get dead! Guess that is why those appts become so important to us. It's the opposite of Latrophobia, the fear of seeing a Doctor. But anyway, here it is six in the morning and no blog written. I'm working on it though, obviously.

 I read a posting yesterday that got me thinking a bit. This post was about someone saying something to someone that had parked in a handicapped parking spot. The remark was something to the effect that, you look fine to me. The one that had parked there responding with , I have a disability that you can't see. The implication was that all disabilities entitle a person to use the handicapped spaces, even mental handicaps like depression or bi-polar disorder. That, of course, isn't the case. There are certain requirements that must be met but they vary by state. If the vehicle has license plates that indicate disability, that disability is permanent, the placards that hang from the mirror indicate a temporary disability. So the bottom line really is, if you have the plate or the placard you are entitled to that spot. The person that it was issued to has to be present in the car! We all know that isn't always the case, there are those that abuse it. Should you say anything? Well no I guess you shouldn't, but it's difficult at times when the person getting out looks to be in better physical shape that you are. It's the honor system, to a point. Yes a police officer can ask for ID to prove entitlement and you are required to provide that proof. Of course that happens on very rare occasions and wouldn't be viewed favorably if it was. So we are basically on the honor system, just like voting. Of course no one ever cheats voting so that's fine. But I'm going off on a tangent a bit. 

 Anyway I was thinking about this disability stuff, the unseen ones. You hear about depression, bi-polar, and all sorts of mental issues these days. Each are diagnosed by a professional. That's what the say anyway. I do question the validity of all that on occasion. The list of symptoms are widely published and publicized. Seems like it wouldn't be too difficult to sway that expert opinion, and that is exactly what it is, an opinion, in my favor should I wish to do that. But that is where the waters get muddy. Anyone from your Doctor, a social worker, a psychologist or psychiatrist can diagnose a mental illness. Determining when that is a disability is quite a bit different though. Is mental illness a disability? The consensus is yes, it's a disease of the mind. Of course the thing is, I have to take your word for that don't I? Unless the condition is severe I certainly have to as it can not be diagnosed any other way. There are no "tests" for thinking! Good thing too, in my opinion, otherwise we would definitely have a lot more disabled people than we do! Another issue I have with all of that is the redefining of mental illness periodically. We do change our opinion. A current example is homosexuality. Prior to 1974 that was a mental illness, treatable by therapy. What is being said today? Oh, it's perfectly normal. Transgenderism is still being debated by the "experts." Many say it is a mental disorder while the WHO says it is not. Well, it's all a matter of opinion isn't it? 

 The whole question here is, how do we quantify opinion? That is to say, provide validation that an opinion is correct? We have traditionally done so by the issuance of diploma's and degrees. The higher the degree the more valid your opinion becomes. Isn't that the thinking? But what are the components of an opinion? Are they strictly academic? I would suggest they certainly are not. Opinions involve emotions, ethics, morals, science and just plain old common sense. The issue with an opinion is, you just have to take the persons word for it! I would say social norms are an expression of a societies' opinion. When those norms are challenged, altered, or questioned there is unrest. In our nation the Voters are supposed to establish that normalcy. We do that through law. Law requires a definition, an exact definition. Law can not be based on opinion. And there is the heart of the matter. Can law change opinions? I'd say no. Even the Supreme court only issues an opinion and there is a reason for that. You can't impose opinion, one opinion being as valid as another. Only the law can enforce an opinion, but it still won't change it. Can you make it illegal to have an opinion? Some are trying to do just that! They are giving it different names but that is the objective. Keep your opinion to yourself! Of course your opinion may be different from mine but the thing is this, mine is right. Well, in my opinion anyway. See how that works.