2007 Wishes

With a ball drop and a wake up, we get a new year. And here is what I wish for you, my friends and foes – as it dawns.

I wish you to never forget what the last year became, as you shape what the new one becomes.

I wish you finding ALL the happy roads that you have enough emotional fuel to travel.

I wish you unbridled joy in precisely the right proportion to make your unmitigated sorrows worthwhile.

I wish you peace.

I wish you orgasm, to give AND receive.

I wish you good movies, fantastic books, and music that moves you.

I wish you satisfaction with your parents—in deed or memory, whichever fits. I wish you contentment with your spouses and significant others, even the ones with a proclivity for fucking up. I wish you longsuffering, patience, and boundless pride with your offspring.

I wish you friends that turn your 3-D existence into a celestial experience. Friends that make you laugh, and shed tears with you. Friends who would take a bullet or pull a trigger for you, but who are wise enough to keep you out of a situation that puts you on either end--Friends who know when to comfort you with words, and when to shut the fuck up.

I wish you a powerful connection with the forces of the universe that are bigger than you. I wish you the influence to command them at your whim, through prayer or meditation or sweet-talking, whichever works best for you.

I wish you love.

I wish you a strong personal economy, a vocation that makes you want to jump out of bed every morning, and a view of the future that makes you giggle just a little bit.

I wish you invisible eyes in the back of your head that blink to life whenever you might be in danger.

I wish you a mentor that can offer you sound advice based on relevant experience.

I wish you wisdom in the coming year, and the superpower of avoidance. I wish you to use it liberally, so you can avoid repeating all of the mistakes you made this year.

I wish you one enemy who is dumb enough to show his hand, stupid enough to keep coming after you, and powerless enough to never be able to actually bring you harm.

Good enemies keep you on your toes.

I wish you prompt waitresses, cordial bartenders, honest valets, courteous and merciful cops, fair judges, good mayors, better governors, representatives of integrity, and a President with a world view based on the world.

I wish your sports team victory, until they come up against mine. Then I wish their utter defeat and humiliation—injury free to all, with a handshake at the end.

I wish you the kind of love you deserve.

I wish you safety, and good health, and meaning to your existence.

There’s a word that has come into my vernacular this year, and I wish it to you in full measure.

THRIVE.

Happy New Year.

--Stew.

***(Now that I realize some people can't "see" the image that accompanies this post, a bit of explanation may be in order. This is an artist's illustration of Father Time.)***

This Beach

This week, I’ve shared some of my favorite historic quotes. With Christmas passing, I’d like to continue the same theme, but pull more from the contemporary stuff that I’ve enjoyed.

Oscar Brown Jr. is first.

I’m a big fan of the former HBO show, Def Poetry. As you know, I like poetry … and slam poetry is probably my favorite.

One of the great things about the show was the way the producers always mixed in the youngest of the young with some of the oldest, and most respected artists on the same stage.

Think about it … that doesn’t happen very many places. At least not on a weekly basis.

Oscar Brown Jr. performed in season two. He performed what I considered a very thought-provoking and extremely radical piece called “I Apologize.”

So when Mos Def announced him again in season five, I was expecting something radical, and rude, and rough.

Instead, this old man stepped up to the microphone, with no notes.

He looked tired.

The graphics introduced him as Oscar Brown Junior, and said that his piece was entitled “This Beach.”

And he said:

“

And now I’ve landed on this beach
It takes sixty-five years to reach
As this generation of mine
Is ordered onto life’s front line
The targets of a fusillade
That forces us to think of God

Reluctantly we storm this beach
Advancing to fill up the breach
Created by that fallen corps
Of elders who charged here before
While we enjoyed our middle age
Removed from the fire we now engage

A withering barrage rakes this beach
Its bullets bear the names of each
Of those who set foot on these sands
Old General Calendar commands
Advancing to a sure defeat
Without the option of retreat

We knew before we hit this beach
The enemy that we besiege
Has ammunition for us all
Who as casualties must fall
Not one will manage to survive
Nobody leaves this beach alive

For those arriving on this beach
There is no prayer to pray nor preach
To beg us off in any tongue
Since we have outlived dying young
And for surviving in exchange
Now face the fire at point blank range

The witness we bear on this beach
Has only one lesson to teach
That here the carnage never stops
As every day another drops
Some classmate, relative or friend
Whose attack comes to an abrupt end

So on into the breach my peers
Who knows how many weeks or years
Remain till you and I are hit
As we inch onward, bit by bit
We only know our lives will bleach
Eternally out on this beach.

“

He bowed his head.
The screen faded black
and the following words dissolved onto the screen…

Oscar Brown Jr.
October 10, 1926–May 29, 2005

Since I was watching it in reruns, it really caught me off guard.

I’ve since listened to a lot of this great jazz artist’s work. And I like it.

Finding the words was a difficult task, even aided by google. But it was worth it. Beautiful words are usually worth the journey.

To you who read this, I hope you find something somber but calm in his words.

And to Mr. Brown, a peaceful rest. I’ll see you when its my turn,

on this beach.

IF

"

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

"

-Rudyard Kipling, 1910

* * *
(posted 24 Dec 2006)

Desiderata

"

Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others; even the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career however humble;
it is a real posession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy

"

--Max Ehrmann, 1927

(originally posted 23 Dec 2006)

Invictus

(Originally posted 22 Dec 2006)

"

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

"

-- William Ernest Henley

In this very short quest to share my favorite words, Invictus has to be on the list. I'm not one of those "daily quote" people. In fact, I'm almost out of the ones that I keep memorized and repeat periodically to provide the verbal cue I need to avoid doing something obviously stupid. (Which I sometimes ignore anyway) But there ARE some things that have been said that bear repeating.

Like Invictus.

The word is Latin for unconquerable. The man who wrote it wasn't just putting pretty words together. Mr. Henley was a double amputee, thanks to tuberculosis of the bone. He still managed to have a very successful life. Here's the kicker--he wrote Invictus ... from a hospital bed.

If you've ever wondered, HERE is what makes a man an amazing writer.

Having both your legs chopped off because your doctor doesn't really know what he's doing ... just as you're getting to be college aged and the girls are starting to dig you. Continuing on to not only make the best of it --- but figuring out how to be an optimist for 30 plus year more, then penning some words FROM YOUR HOSPITAL BED that manage to encourage and challenge a sniveling cynic like Stew a century or so later. THAT is an amazing man and a phenomenal writer.

Damn dude, YOU ROCK!

I would never expect anyone to memorize anything, but the word itself has brought me encouragement at times.

Sitting at your computer, try this stupid little exercise and tell me if I'm crazy or not. Repeat the word at the bottom of the page five times out loud in your loudest speaking voice. No, I mean it. Really. Try this. The question on the table, the one I'd like you to answer is this ...

Doesn't it actually make you feel a little stronger? I wonder if that counts as onomatopoeia.

Here's the word.

Invictus.

On Critics

"

It's not the critic who counts,

not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled,

or when the doer of deeds could have done better.



The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena;

whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;

who strives valiantly;

who errs and comes short again and again;

who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions

and spends himself in a worthy cause;



who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement;

and who at the worst if he fails,

at least fails while daring greatly,

so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls

who know neither victory or defeat.

"

--Theodore Roosevelt, 1910

...addressing the Sorbonne, in Paris

* * * * *

For two summers, I contemplated having this quote tattood in olde english script on my back. In the end, I opted not to because I wouldn't be able to see it, and I don't want it on my chest. But one day --- with enough vodka in me, there is still a distinct possibility. The point is, the words mean enough to me that I wouldn't mind ALWAYS having them at arms reach. Hope you take it with you, too.

--Stew.

(Dec 21, 2006)

On Children

Kahlil Gibran DEFINITELY said it best in The Prophet:

"

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, "Speak to us of Children." And he said:

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

"

--"On Children," from Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet, 1923.

Six Weird Things About Me (yahoo 360 quiz)

"Six Weird Things About me"

HERE ARE THE RULES: Title your blog "SIX WEIRD THINGS ABOUT ME". You need to write a blog of your own with 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. At the end you need to tag 6 friends and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says: "You've been tagged!" And to ask them to read your blog:



1). I have a VERY small circle of “real” friends. I don’t go out of my way to meet new people, but when I do I tend to decide very quickly whether or not they’re going to be in that circle. Once that decision is made, it lasts forever. No one ever comes in after that moment, even if we are acquaintances for years. And its really hard to do anything that would push you OUT of that circle.

2). Even though I’ve been around the world a couple of times, I really don’t like to travel. I love to “be” other places, but hate just about every conveyance that makes that possible. If I had my druthers, I’d stay inside for most of the rest of my time here and write. As it turns out, that’s not an option right now so I’m still on the road more than I want to be.

3). The only common food I’m aware of truly disliking is okra. I don’t mind veggies, most meats, or any solid foods. I DO hate gooey food and condiments, like mayonnaise.

4). I’m a world-class snorer.

5). When I was younger, I had a list of everything I wanted to do sexually that I hadn’t tried. Shortly after my separation, I finished all but one of those things.

6). My television is ALWAYS on, and 90 percent of the time, its on a news channel. I sleep to news, wake up to it, and live to it. When its not news, its sports. I don’t watch very many other types of shows. Although I love “The Wire” and most other HBO series.


Personality thingie tag~


1) What is your best personality trait?

I’m fairly level-headed. I’m the person you want around in an emergency. I can’t remember the last times I “freaked out” about anything. The down side is I don’t get terribly excited about most things, either.

2) What is your best quality for friendship?

Once we’re friends, there is only one. Loyalty.


3) Why should people be friends with you?

Hmmm…good question. I guess you’d have to ask one of my friends. I’m not unbiased enough to have any idea. I only know that I love my true friends, and they seem to love me back.

4) What is your best quality(s) for being intimate in the bedroom?

I’m very comfortable with being me, my body, and what I like/don’t like.


5) What talent do you have that makes you stand out?

Passion. It usually manifests itself in my music, and my writing.


6) How long have you known your longest friend?

Steve is my best friend. Always has been.


7) Do you think you're hot???

Nope. But I think I’m engaging which seems to make up for it.


8) Are you geek and proud of it?

Yep. I’m a news geek. Proudly so. Also love politics and religion, all the taboos unfortunately. I’m fiercely independent though, so I don’t “belong” to any political or religious orgs.


9) What's the weirdest thing you ever wore that you got compliments for?

Air Force uniform.

10) Is it better to give than receive?

Nope. Its best to give AND receive.


(originally posted 19 Dec 06)

America the Beautiful

So yesterday morning found me riding down Hwy 101 between Santa Maria and Los Angeles, California. To the left were big, beautiful hills. Not quite mountains, because Colorado teaches one to respect the difference. But they were stunning nonetheless. To the right, the beautiful Pacific Ocean, my old buddy and nemesis.

Riding down that road it was hard not to think about what a beautiful place this country is. Even when we’re arguing about politics, or religion, or what the law should be—a quick drive in almost any state of our union will take you someplace gorgeous.

This most recent trip took me to two of the country’s most beautiful places. I revisited both the Rockies, and the western coast. There’s this weird question I get asked sometimes when geography is the topic: “beach or mountains.” It confuses me, because they’re both stunning. It’s like asking if I prefer sunrises or sunsets. Or who’s the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s a fool’s errand. Beauty doesn’t work that way. It just is.

But between the mountains, the beach, and the sound of the tires spinning across the highway, I drifted into a rather fun reminiscence about some of the gorgeous places I’ve been privileged to see in this, my country. It didn’t happen chronologically, but turned into more of a moving map with pictures from my memory.

I started with Jakey’s invitation to show me New England. While it’s my least favorite part of the country, that has nothing to do with how pretty it is. From the amazing foliage in fall, to the cranberry bogs, it was truly a feast for the eyes.

New York City is gorgeous in that industrial way that civilization turns a horizon into a skyline. And even now, with the scab of the World Trade Center marring the view by its absence, it is beautiful.

D.C. is pretty … more so if you stay in the car, but a drive up George Washington Parkway from the beltway in the North, past the National Cathedral, the monuments, and National Airport can be breathtaking (unless you’re in a hurry to get somewhere and it’s rush hour).

The Atlantic coast is breathtaking.. North Carolina’s outer banks, South Carolina’s coastal cities, Florida’s beaches, from Daytona to Fort Lauderdale, down through Miami, and up the West Coast—picture-perfect from the first moment almost to the last.

And there’s the South.

Strange fruit trees aside, if you’ve never seen an avenue lined with Mississippi magnolias, or dirtied your hands in Alabama red-clay, you should. They’re beautiful. Louisiana—sexy by every measure—plus the food’s amazing, although that’s a different story. And then there’s Texas. Again, not my favorite … but not because it’s an eyesore by any means.

New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada’s Lake Tahoe, the MOUNTAIN views of Salt Lake City. California, Oregon, the rest of the gorgeous Pacific Northwest. Mount Rainier is stunning, especially when you see it with the Space needle in the foreground.

I would never forget the heartland---God’s country. Miles and miles and miles of some of the most fertile ground on the planet. Catch it at the right time of year, and there are amber waves of grain, acres of waving sunflowers, or empty fields are far as the eye can see. It has a special beauty of its own.

The Grand Canyon, the Northern Lights, Maui … there’s just no end to the simple beauty that America can call it’s own.

I’ve been blessed to see many of the sights that make up the world’s prettiest postcards. And even though I’m well on my way to carmudgeondom, there are still some that stop me in my tracks. There is no sarcasm about my awe of the Rocky Mountains. No cynicism about fall foliage, or wisecracks about ocean waves breaking on the beach. Whether you like your views from skis, driving by, wearing a bikini, biking, hiking, or through the lens of a camera—one of these days when you hear about red states, and blue states---ignore the political implications and think about sunrises and flowers blooming. It’s a beautiful America.

Do you have a favorite piece of America you’d like to rave about?

Peace, prosperity, pleasure … and bah humbug.

--Stew.

(17 Dec 06)

GO BIG RED

Over the weekend, I realized something about one of my favorite passions that I’ve never stopped to appreciate before.

I’m a huge sports junkie. I’m not the kind that can quote you a bunch of statistics, or remember all of my favorite players numbers, what years they played, or what high schools they attended.

I just love the games. Basketball, football, tennis, golf, soccer, even baseball … which I’m starting to enjoy again.

Last week I started to realize what a huge impact the games I’ve watched has had on me as a person.

I am a NEBRASKA CORNHUSKER college football fan. And over the weekend, we got to renew an old rivalry that Big XII expansion has all but destroyed.

Nebraska vs. Oklahoma.

I wasn’t even aware of the Huskers until we moved to Nebraska when I was in the seventh grade. But Omaha is a city that isn’t distracted by many things. Bluntly, there isn’t a lot to do there. It’s a place where people raise families, and work their asses off. We speak to strangers, but respect their space. It’s not a town famous for its nightclubs, or tourist attractions. But in those days, at least … the streets were clean and the cost of living affordable. Omaha is cold and windy enough to kill you in the winter, and hot enough to fry an egg in your hand between July and early September. It’s a city with a lot of money, mostly from insurance and commercial food production.

We eat beef.

But every fall, the city BELONGS to the Cornhuskers. Among other things, to be a Nebraskan IS to be a Husker fan. In my youth, a big game meant no homework on the weekend. It meant bars opened early, and other businesses shut down before their usual closing time. It meant fewer chores and a later curfew. And the entire city, hell … the entire state was focused on one gigantic structure. And on Saturday afternoon during football season, a line of cars starts at the Colorado border, runs the entire length of Nebraska west to east on I-80, and ends at Memorial Stadium, by population the third largest city in the state on game day. Football is life. A big game is a good day. I’ve seen an entire row of traffic miss a green light and no horns blow because of a big play in a big game on the radio.

And no game was bigger than Oklahoma.

I’ve had the privilege of watching football games in stadiums around the country. I realize that there are fans of every stripe; they love their teams as much as I love mine. I have no debate with that love.

But there are a few traditions I learned as a young Husker fan that in the legends of my mind are different than some of the rivalries I’ve witness in stadiums, bars, and living rooms dedicated to other teams. We lost the “big game” to Oklahoma this year. But I thought a bit about what this meant Saturday as I sat in a bar full of Sooners and Huskers fans. I wish opposition in the rest of the world were as cordial and honest as the tradition of rivalry between those two schools. I tried to figure out what makes it work. I still don’t know, but I have a few thoughts.

1. YOU ALWAYS RESPECT YOUR OPPONENT. I’ve seen old men with toddlers on their shoulders swathed in red seek out fans of the opposing team to teach the young how to properly shake hands and say “good game” after wins AND losses. I’ve watched as 60,000 people stood to cheer a severely overmatched opponent who had enough heart to drive the ball and score late in a losing effort. Nobody left the stands early in those days. There were football players on the field, still playing their hearts out, and if they loved the game enough to keep playing—we could love the game enough to stay until the clock read 4 00:00.

2. GAME PLAN TO YOUR STRENGTHS AND STICK TO THE PLAN. Until
very recently, there was never any question about what Nebraska’s next play was going to be. We were going to line up two men behind the quarterback, probably in an “I” formation, and run either left or right, then pitch it to one or both of them in sequence. There was going to be a cloud of dust, as our gigantic O-line dug in and tried to knock down every obstacle in the way, and if you were going to stop us, you were going to have to be stronger than us. Even after “the pass was invented” we still played ball like to ‘air’ was somehow human, and we were the Gods of Mount Olympus. We recruited fast running quarterbacks from SEC country, and troubled young men from California to play running back. We lined them up behind corn and beef-fed 350-pound men who learned to run by tipping cows and dodging bulls. And on defense, we weren’t going to bother worrying about your receivers. Our plan didn’t include giving YOU enough time to see them, much less throw them a pass. How many guys we got? 11? Great. See the man under center? Smash him into the ground. Last one there is a rotten egg. Ready? Break.

3. WE PLAY THE GAME TO WIN. I remember Coach Tom Osborne coaching against Miami in one of a half dozen bowl games with national championship implications. We’d managed to pull within one point with virtually no time left on the clock. Decision Time. Go for the extra point, and tie? Or go for two, and win? He barely hesitated to send the boys out there to go for two. Miami, who was our nemesis for years stopped us cold. But I can’t imagine that the parade for the team was any smaller than if they’d chosen to play for the tie, instead of putting an entire season, and tradition on the line for the win.


4. ANYTHING WORTH BRAGGING ABOUT IS WORTH WORKING YOUR ASS OFF FOR. I don’t know how many consecutive years we had our championship hopes dashed by Miami, or eventually Florida State. Over and over and over and over again. But when we came back and beat each of them in bowl games, and then went back for Florida, who we … well, let’s just say “beat” (you’re welcome Becky, that’s called respect for your opponent) it made me ok with being proud of my Huskerdom even when I lived tens of thousands of miles away from any Nebraska border.

5. NO EXCUSES. Ever. As long as you play hard, you’re going to win some on good days, and lose some on bad ones. But there are no excuses for losing. When you lose, it’s because the other team is better than you. Period.


We’ve played Oklahoma about 80 times over the years. I believe they have the edge these days, by a game or two. It’s ok with me. We’ve played them when they were headed to championships, and we’ve played them when we were the powerhouse team of the nation. We’ve won some spectacular games against them, and lost some heartbreakers. In some ways, those games define a piece of me as a sports fan, as a Husker fan, and as a fan of the beautiful game of college football.

I hope you are lucky enough to have a team in your life that is a part of you. Whether you cheer for Ohio State, or Florida in this year’s championship, or whether your team is going to some no-name bowl, I hope they bring you as much joy as my Huskers have brought me over a lifetime.

It’s not politics, or religion, or even “important” in the overall scheme of things, but in a lot of ways, football has some things to teach us.

Good Luck whatever your team is doing this post-season. If you're playing in a bowl, have a good game. If you're not, work hard this off-season, and show the rest of us why we should share the love.

Most importantly, GO BIG RED. Beat Auburn in the ... Cotton Bowl?

Who's your team? Are they bowling this year??

Blocked

This isn’t likely to be one of those socially relevant, or politically interesting blog entries.

Some of you know that I’m in the process of writing a book.

Most mornings, I try to get at least a few pages done. Today, I’m facing a bit of writer’s block on it. Nothing’s coming out right, so I’ve set it aside for tomorrow.

Since I don’t really want to waste the time I’ve put aside for writing, I’m hoping that sharing a little bit of this whole writer’s block with you will chase it away.

The book I’m working on isn’t really the sort of thing I expect to be a big seller. It’s a pretty narrow policy tome, aimed at a very small segment of the population. Having read tens of thousands of books, this is my first attempt at writing anything longer than a few hundred pages, and to be honest I’m struggling a bit.

My book is the outgrowth of a series of conversations with my pop, Danny B. We tend to talk about religion and business when we share the phone. He’s a small business owner who sells Bibles and religious books online.

He is, and raised me Seventh-day Adventist. I left that organization years ago, but have very fond memories of a LOT of the extremely active programs the church provided for young people. It was a fantastic environment to grow up in. Even now, I count among my friends any number of people who are still involved in that particular denomination.

One of the best parts of growing up Adventist was the educational system. SDAs operate the second largest parochial school system in the country. It’s a pretty impressive collection of primary schools, junior and senior secondary academies, colleges, universities and medical schools.

Growing up, I never really saw the system as an entity. There was just the school I was attending at the time, and the academies and colleges I hoped to go to someday. I never made it to the academy I favored, or the college I wanted to attend. Life happened. But I’ve always had a certain fondness for the entire system that I still consider my own.

So it sort of hurt my feelings when I discovered that my alma mater was in serious jeopardy.

It has always been a small school, but in the 17 years since I graduated, its enrollment has plummeted. As a grown-up, and a journalist, I started to pen a few ideas that first surfaced with me as a student there, and have evolved over time as I’ve been involved with different financial and marketing endeavors. Danny B listened to some of them, and encouraged me to write them down so he could present them.

Not being a power-point kinda guy, this challenged me to do the research, interviews and critical thinking required to present the ideas in a context that will allow them to be well received by the people I want to eventually read them. It’s a technique that works well in blogs, because you’re essentially writing a very short piece (relatively speaking, I don’t edit much OUT of my diatribes in this format :-) ) that requires minimal research.

I’m about two months into a research cycle on the development of the American secondary educational construct. Its pretty interesting, but I’m really struggling summarizing it in a way that doesn’t take me off track.

That’s a common enough struggle for me.

Anyhow, that’s what’s happening with me today. The words aren’t coming, and now that football is starting up, they’re probably not going to get the chance.

But at least I got some writing done in my writing time.

GO BIG RED.

Hope you have a great day.


--Stew.

(2 Dec 06)

Scourge

Between 1520 and 1527, a smallpox epidemic ravages Latin America. By the end of its run, the disease has managed to knock off two of the greatest civilizations in human history. It kills millions of Mexico’s native inhabitants, weakening the Aztec nation enough in one year that by 1521, Cortez and his forces have no trouble capturing Tenochtitlan. Incan ruler Huayna Capec falls to the disease, along with 200,000 of his citizens, virtually erasing their society from the map, and much of their knowledge from the human collective.

This wasn’t the genesis of the epidemic as a phenomenon. In fact, by the time the first Inca or Aztec felt his temperature start to rise, or noticed small bumps on his arm, the human population had faced disease of epidemic proportions no fewer than five times already.

The usual suspect was bubonic plague. Between the sixth, 14th, and 17th centuries the plague is believed to kill 137, 000, 000 people. It repeatedly kisses Europe like a stalker with a mistletoe cap; feeding on the overcrowding, filth, and ignorance of a species still learning how to effectively share information by word of mouth. It’s a gift from the Subcontinent that keeps on giving.

Then there is “The Sweat,” a disease of the late 15th and early 16th century so perfectly married to human physiology it typically snatches a life in a mere 24 hours.

The “European Epidemic” of 1540 kills three-quarters of the First Peoples of Florida, South Carolina, and Georgia.

If you toast your two best friends for New Year's in 1563 London, drink long and hard, because statistically, one of you won’t live until Christmas because the plague is doin’ it like that.

Measles and smallpox and Yellow Fever and the flu pockmark history much the same as they scarred the corpses and bodies of their millions and millions and millions and millions and millions and millions and millions of victims over time.

And in 1959 Belgian Congo; after the printing press, and vaccine, and television, and Darwin, and polio, a family cries at the clinic because their husband and father is sick and the doctors don’t know what is wrong with him. And we don’t know until much later that he is the herald of a new plague.

We can’t quite nail it down in 1981, when gay men’s immune systems start shutting down, and their symptoms earn the monniker GRID—gay-related immune deficiency.

But we’re “sophisticated” now, and started tracking the trend. We become aware that a strange, new condition is present in 14 countries. We realize that something is literally eating the immune systems of thousands of young men, young women, and babies around the world.

By late 1982, we name the condition “acquired immune deficiency syndrome.” It is important apparently, that you “ACQUIRED” it—as though any disease that invades a body hasn’t at that point become an “acquired” condition. But there is no panic. There is no epidemic. There is just a statistical metronome as the number grows, and undesirables die.

1982 is also the year the first hemophiliac gets the virus from a blood transfusion. And we blink for a second. Maybe it’s not just the gays at risk. This could be a problem.

Three months after announcing he has AIDS in 1985, Rock Hudson dies.

We should have noticed it then. The truth is, nobody in the generation that’s going to have to deal with the fat end of the problem knows who he is, or was.

The Journal of the American Medical Association coins the name Human immunodeficiency virus (HIV) in 1986 to describe the virus at the root of the problem.

1987, Liberace dies. Nobody knows him either, except that he’s the most flamboyant man in America, and plays the piano like a carnival ride. And if you’ve never heard Liberace play, you have missed a singular treat, and owe yourself a download from somewhere.

And at this time television and the movies becomes the strongest information tool we have, not because the news media is all over the story, but because faces we recognize from sitcoms and old family shows start dropping left and right.

Miss Kitty from Gunsmoke, Mike Brady from the Brady Bunch, Norman Bates from Psycho, Jack Ewing from Dallas.

In 1990, AIDS becomes real to me, because Ryan White dies. He has been talking to me about AIDS through my High School years, and I thought we'd find a cure in time to save him. Turns out, its not really that high of a priority.

But AIDS becomes real to the everyday man, when Magic Johnson stepped up to the microphone in 1991 to announce he was HIV positive.

By the end of this year, an estimated 25 million people will have died from AIDS. Some of them are people I love. In Africa alone, there are 12 million AIDS orphans. THIS YEAR, almost 3,000,000 people have died from AIDS, 4 million more contracted the disease. They join a club of 40 million people who are living with it.

We are facing a crisis. It is a scourge as sharp as bubonic plague, or smallpox, or The Sweat, or Yellow Fever.

If you have not been touched personally by AIDS in 2006, I suggest that one of two things is happening.

It is possible that you are incredibly lucky.

We who are tasting the pain, and smelling the fear could SURE use your good fortune on this side of the fight.

It is also possible that you just don’t get out very much, and haven’t called your family in years. You should give them a call, and get caught up on what's happening outside. Sooner or later this disease is going to knock on a door you're familiar with.

Either way, I ask you today to spend a moment of time considering the AIDS crisis.

I only have one source to send you to, one of my childhood heroes has put a LOT of information in one place. Please hit his website today.

http://www.istandwithmagic.com/

Thank you.

--Stew.




References Used in this blog entry:

http://fohn.net/history-of-aids/

http://www.avert.org/worldstats.htm

http://www.genealogyinc.com/enc_epidemics/index.html

(originally posted 1 Dec 06)