Via Willie Blake:
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night
(not sure how this advice fits in with those currently summiting Everest)
Cases like last year’s Martin Luther King Day lesson gone awry, remind me of when parents start calling for bans of wide-spectrum’s of controversial books, and then it’s discovered they have never actually taken time to read the books, which are supposedly upsetting their children.
A 2006 case from Houston Community papers featured Alton Verm and his then 15 year-old daughter Diane, who wanted to ban Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 because,
“It’s just all kinds of filth,” said Alton Verm, adding that he had not read “Fahrenheit 451.” “The words don’t need to be brought out in class. I want to get the book taken out of the class.”
Diane added, “The book had a bunch of very bad language in it, it shouldn’t be in there because it’s offending people. … If they can’t find a book that uses clean words, they shouldn’t have a book at all.”
The ultimate irony here is that Fahrenheit 451 is a book ABOUT BANNING BOOKS.
The title comes from the high temperature tipping point, at which books burn!
The same can be said about “Catcher in the Rye,” when Holden Caulfield sees some obscenely described graffiti, splayed on the school walls and out of love and respect for his little sister Phoebe, becomes determined to scrub off all the (expletives) in the world, so that she should never have to see one. If J.D. Salinger had not chosen to insert these harsh words to describe what Mr. Caulfield was seeing, his poignant point would have come across too diluted.
Huck Finn, the same way. Every year or so, parents in some communities want to ban this book because of Mark Twains liberal use of the N-Word, an accurate depiction of the language in its time and copious contexts. Yet, if folks went to the trouble to read between Huck Finns fishing lines, they would see, it is one of the most ANTI-RACISM books ever. After all, Huck decides that he would rather go to “the bad place,” then to sell out his friend, the runaway slave Jim. How many of us can say that we would be as loyal to our friends?
Intriguingly, there is a publicly available draft of AN OCEAN FULL OF BOWLING BALLS, currently housed at the Firestone Library of Princeton University. Access is tightly controlled, and Salinger has reportedly ordered that the stories not be published until 50 years after his death.
Jim Roveria visited this part of the Princeton Library a few years back, and writes about his experience there:
He also notes that if you are a Hemingway freak, the Princeton Library is a good place to hang out.
An opposite-take essay on disposability
Trying to save money, I set out a few years ago to survive cold Idaho winters by plopping down on the edge of Hailey society in an affordable shack with minimal utility needs. Although, I attached much character to the poorly-heated hut; sometimes its confined quarters gave me cabin fever. The second winter habitating there; I begin having difficulty breathing and then nightmares. After a few nights of thinking I was suffering from a heart attack, I discovered that the substandard flooring and antiquated plumbing system were allowing poisonous methane fumes to seep up into the tiny living space, where there were no windows or ventilation.
The landlord then, thought it was high time to profit from its booming in-town location. That old shack is now smithereens and I say, “Good Riddance!” Like lots of thought to be cost-cutting measures, the quality of living, which dropped tremendously in that tiny shelter, proved to be more costly than any rent savings I might have imagined.
Around the next corner, in my warm new close-knit community, I was secretly relieved when I saw my next-door neighbor throwing away recyclables. She was an intern for an environmental concern, and I had been worried she would give me the evil eye if I did not rinse every can, spic and span, before plopping each into politically correct pristine containers.
Who has time to waste on this type of virtuous garbage anyway? It’s going to take some serious sustained efforts to convince many people and me that investing time to surface scrub every throwaway is worthwhile.
Take non-refundable glass for instance. There are only nine glass-reprocessing factories in the Nation. The closest one to Southern Idaho is in Portland for gush-sakes. Jeezum Crow! How can some people implore that wasting gas, by limousining glass over Oregon trails is better or even profitable with the rock bottom price glass has crashed to?
Moreover, the tree-huggers and whatnot brag that they mix their big-deal glass into road compounds. These people are making me sick! Does all this stained glass blind the bulging mountain of “Dudley Dew-Rights” into limited prisms of thought? While they’re out celebrating their tiny merit-badge highway clean ups; why don’t they just righteously tamp the beer bottles they find tossed off sides of roads, directly back into the sand from whence it came? After all, silica (sand), which glass forms from, is the single most abundant element on this planet!
Instead, the earth-muffins haul it back to the central scrutinizer transfer station, cut their vain little hands –probably getting hepatitis and God knows what else from the filthy glass–then crush it up for a waste of time photo-op, exposing negative chemicals to the wind. Environmental nuts like these should come clean and admit that they are posing to display their emerald vanities. I bet they have endless reasons as to why you never see them recycling their prized peacock styling mirrors over to the Gold Mine Thrift Store.
By the same token; many people admit to throwing pennies in the rubbish for the job-secure sanitation engineers to dispose of. That’s right, following our Government’s lead of greasing slippery economy inner-mechanisms by freely tossing money away! However, wheeling garbage around under well-designed plans is not all bad. The quicker we can stuff more landfills to the hilt, the sooner some more mountainous parks will come into play.
What’s a penny to buy anyway? It’ll cover my rent for about thirty seconds. There is no more penny candy to rot your teeth. Heck, for years the cost to produce a penny has far exceeded Lincoln’s face value. Nowadays, the materials alone melted into copper basins are more valuable than infinitesimal pennies of the same weight.
Saving spendthrift pennies makes about as much sense as bronzing gold medals. Honest Abe. Only an untouchable person would stoop to pick up dirty coinage from the gutter and become the butt of cruel jokes. “Indisposed” Sun Valley girls won’t touch a man unless he has about a million starched greenbacks sticking out his back pocket, at ready stand-by for high-society squandering.
A modern fable related to this, has Bill Gates strolling along on a Segway: Suddenly, he spies a hundred dollar bill with his gold medal detector, blending in the green grass. If he clicks the kickstand with his penny-loafers, stopping to pick up the $100, the seconds spent doing so, in theory earn him (and the Gates Foundation) less money than he would have earned by not halting progress to grub up the lesser green.
On a more down to earth scale, let’s say that it takes you six seconds to lean down and pick up a glistening penny from Ketchum’s Gem Street. Is it levelheaded to do this? Some quick math: Six times ten is sixty seconds…times six again equals six dollars an hour. Therefore, if you are making minimum wage it does still “make sense” to take a break from harvesting potatoes, or bussing tables for Allen & Company to pluck up that fools gold!
Harping over this surprising new aspect makes me believe that perhaps I am a little green about some common cent facets. After all, legend has it that when Abe was an agile young man; he chased down an old Kentucky customer, realizing he had short-shifted the purchaser a couple of three pennies. Just as Lincoln later matured his own mind over larger issues, it’s only right that I should follow his lead, to reflect upon higher level spiritual items, rather than small change squabbles. It’s easy to see, gazing trancelike into Lincolns memorialized penny eyes, that as our founding Republican, he understood flip-flopping from heads to tails on some issues is often the healthiest thing for humankind.
Before the grizzled men battered down my old hovel into Lincoln logs, my friend Brad came to visit there for a few days. It was good to see Brad back in town and we caught up on old times. On his last morning, hard rains spilled from the substandard shack roof, revealing by the front stoop a quicksilver mercury dime from WW2. When Brad turned this over to me, it was a priceless moment. We remembered steel pennies backing up steely nerves from that war effort; since every scrap of precious copper was ceremoniously cut, then cleansed on wings and prayers, for dumping throwaway bombs to “wipe out” expendable Japs and Germans.
In that era, the creed “Every Penny Counts” was treated like a religious doctrine. By utilizing that conviction, look to what degree we have ascended from earths touch. By accomplishing so many missions of far-reaching disposal, and standing haughtily like ill-bred Giants with food to burn, the rest of the world who must love us to death, say they want to greatly warship the United States!
On another Sun Valley trip the same season at Brad’s, when His Holiness the Dalai Lama wrapped up his visit here, he made an interesting observation about jetsetters. He said something to the effect that it’s remarkable, paper-rich people in our society pay handsomely to travel thousands of miles for meeting and celebrating with strangers in other lands; yet we do not invest free time to cross the streets to get to know our own neighbors. Reminds me of how often you see some broken-down motorist, desperately trying to flag down dozens of cars to no avail. Another message mostly lost on the somewhat-jaded crowd was that The Dalai Lama was interested in making a buck and was happy that his elite sponsor with connections here in the United States was helping him launch his enterprising new book, The Universe in a Single Atom. Here is a holy man who, through living poorly has done enough rich shadow work on himself that he can freely broadcast his wide smile to millions showing that he, too, is attracted to powerful fistfuls of dollars. Unlike handlers behind some high-preaching podiums, the Dalai Lama openly recognizes that within the purest of bright goods, lies balanced a minuscule seed of darkness and vice-versa. Identifying this innately human fact allows rational creatures to harness certain control over their inner conflicts, rather than be spooked from reflecting about the powerful prehistoric urges dormant, but still raring to go if needed, within us all.
From throwaway pennies to the chemicals creating people on them and even the religious convictions behind it all; disposability is an extremely broad and complex subject. Being able to openly listen and debate from many sides of the issue is a strong mark of established scholars. Some will argue that all of us are replaceable; yet at the same time, it’s clear that that the wiser you are, then the more distinct differences you can find between individuals. Each person has unique gifts of some sort. Sometimes these are hidden talents, unknown by the persons themselves and not revealed until later life fermentation.
When Brad visited, I realized that I had been taking him for granted –almost as a throwaway friend. I was blind to my ignorance until after he moved on. Sometimes it takes moving experiences or even the death of a loved one for it to become clearly evident of how much of an energetic force they became. Once centered in your life, but then transformed into a puzzling vortex of barrenness.
On the other hand, even Copernicus had to wait for deadwood thinkers to drift out of the way before he could show off his new spin to the world.
Therefore, the paradox to keep in mind is that even though people are replaceable they are also, irreplaceable. If we knew that we never moved on, we would probably end up taking each other for granted. Having a near-fatal experience of being gassed by a shameful human waste disposal system, helped me concentrate that life is everfleeting, making it evermore precious.
Between anagrams and palindromes
Did you know â€œEdgar Poeâ€ is â€œA God Peer?â€ That â€œStephen Kingâ€ is â€œThe Pens King,â€ Clint Eastwood = Old West Action and Darth Vader begs Add Hart Rev? What I am talking about is the synchronicity of anagrams and hidden meanings within everyday phrases and names.
As legend has it, the first words ever spoken, â€œMadam in Eden, Iâ€™m Adamâ€ were a palindrome. Further fables assert, that immediately after this opening statement, the first thought balloon formed above Eveâ€™s innocent head, reading, â€œSOS EVE SOS!â€
Pulitzer Prize winner Dr. Douglas Hofstadter in his essay, The architecture of Jumbo, remarks about anagrams:
â€œWhy work so hard to model such a frivolous and atypical cognitive activity? I tried to answer this question in the article itself, but let me just add here that I think that such mental juggling is a very important, pervasive kind of mental activity that has nothing intrinsic to do with anagrams. Perhaps the slow letter-juggling that goes on in the heads of people who have almost never tried anagrams is not of much universality and therefore of little importance or interest, but I think that when the activity reaches expert level, where it is highly automatized and very rapid, it has something in common with the deep processes of reorganization and reinterpretation that takes place in truly creative thought. Not to suggest that all good anagrammists are latent Einsteins, of course, but just that the activity itself, when done fluently, has a special and important quality.â€
As anagrams are full of Synchronicity, so, too, Synchronicity vibrates with anagrams. Itâ€™s a rich city, sonny! Some anagrams are startling enough to make the hardest Cynic Hint Rosy.
Here are three more anagrams of synchronicity, ripened for your own interpretations:
Short Yin Cynic
Thy Ironic Sync
Cynic, Oh Sin, Try
A few weeks ago, on prolific authorsâ€™ Trish and Rob Macgregorâ€™s synchronicity blog, I responded to Maxâ€™s silver teapot story, observing that two teacups can be found as potent metaphors. While doing so, I compared Commander Tibbetâ€™s nonchalant postwar walk across the scorched fields of Nagasaki, with a different pace, set by peacenik warrior Lawrence Ferlinghetti. A few days later, I was surprised to read that the Nagasaki local Government has officially recognized 93-year-old Tsutomu Yamaguchi as one of a handful of survivors who survived both atomic bomb attacks.
In that vein, here are some AA Anagrams, dedicated to Mr. Tsutomu Yamaguchi
A Mach Yogis Mu Tutu
A Outmatch Guy I Sum
A Mica Thugs Yum Out
A Somatic Tug Uh Yum
A Atomic Guy Shut Mu
A Atomic Guy Thus Mu
A Tacit Gush Mum You
A Tacit Hug Mums You
A A Touch Guy Summit
A Magic Shut Yum Out
A Magic Hut Oust Yum
A Atomic Thug Yum Us
Douglas Hofstadter would probably take pleasure in the Mu anagrams riddled throughout Mr. Yamaguchiâ€™s name.
Plenty of Idaho criers have warned about wolves here being dangerous, but it’s still more perilous to cross the human highway than it is to waltz out one of our yodeling canyons
With this menace in mind, I consulted with my oracle: John Cougar Mellowcat, who kindly channeled for us, some other spring-fever animal predictions:
Besides the wolf this year, its predicted rattlers will be more docile. Good time, to gather some snapping worms for dynamic fishing.
Badger’s are lonelier and will need more human-applied scruffs behind their fuzzy ears.
Local cubby-bears will rise up with great desire for thick elderberry mead, so please baste your grease buckets and leave them warmly wafting under West Ketchum birdfeeders.
Albino deer appreciate late season snows and hope Baldy stays open through Memorial Day.
Increasing numbers of aged cougars will descend from the Elkhorn hills to infiltrate nearly-innocents at the dew-daw room.
Butterflies will continue to flaunt their illegal ignoring of voter district lines.
While Mormon crickets will continue their selfless mission of filling in Highway 20’s potholes, positively chirping beetles will munch over Galena pass, making the area more avalanche-prone, which will lead to a receptive public outcry for a safety-beacon cell tower on the hill.
Wise hoot owls will continue being mostly serious, and make gains towards unraveling unsolved mysteries.
Local dogs will continue worming their way into local hearts, while an ahead-of-the-curve ISU scientist will uncover compelling canine evidence that they sometimes laugh at us silly cats.
A small fundraising effort, sparked by Jennaâ€™s mother, Maggie, and trainer Susanna Thomas, paid for most of the trip. In the months leading to the exciting seven-day Idaho event, Jenna worked closely with Susanna. They were dedicated to improving her time by training hard three to four times a week. Succeeding with this, Jenna managed to shave nearly sixteen minutes off her original time trials.
In December, as groundwork for Sun Valley, Jenna flew to Copper Mountain, Colorado for a five-day Olympic training camp. Though she had a bout of altitude sickness, she was still able to meet and be with her Team USA colleagues. It was the start of many new lifetime friendships.
To reach her Sun Valley destination, Jenna met the Massachusetts delegates at Bostonâ€™s Logan airport, and flew to Salt Lake City. From there, Team USA took a ceremonial convoy of eighteen buses to Boise, replete with police escorts, EMTâ€™s and the revered Olympic Torch.
After the opening ceremonies, a smaller but similar fleet transported athletes to Sun Valley for the Nordic and snowboard events.
Jennaâ€™s first impression of Sun Valley was, â€œIt was absolutely beautiful and the snow was fast.â€ Early in the week, on her mother Maggieâ€™s birthday, Jenna competed in the 500m and won a fifth place ribbon. While she wanted to win a medal for her momâ€™s birthday, this didnâ€™t occur until the next day. Meanwhile, as she raced well (4:42 in the 500m), and sprinted through more time trails, Jenna gained a budding contingent of new fans, including colleagues fromÂ a state-of the art furniture shop, where I often help out. I’ve often noted, my co-workers at The Open Room have a sharp eye for good quality, so it was right in line for them to share Jennaâ€™s remarkable story with me.
Many participants, volunteers and observers were soon caught up in the purity of the games; feeling the fantastic pull of what it really means for diverse people from all walks of life to get along with a high-level of enthusiasm; working towards constructive goals via sports and eventually applying those lessons to even larger life purposes.
Then amidst all the glorious events, in the midday sun of February 11, 2009, 15-year-old Jenna Montgomery from North Adams, Massachusetts won a gold medal in the Special Olympics World Winter Games, one-kilometer cross-country ski race, at Sun Valleyâ€™s Nordic Center. Her winning time for the 1K was 9:15, a full minute ahead of the silver medalist.
Although there was a language barrier between some of the athletes, every diverse culture recognized the meaning behind Jennaâ€™s golden smile.
Jennaâ€™s mom said that their experience in Idaho was a total joy and very hard to put into words. Jenna loved making new friends. She also enjoyed skiing on the â€œfast snowâ€. She said it was really fun and beautiful being out there. â€œRepresenting Team USA was an honor and a privilege.â€
Maggie also said, â€œSpecial Olympics is the best program in the world and we are thankful for it. This program has allowed my very special daughter to be herself. She can be who she is and not have to put up a front for anyone.â€
Jenna says it is too soon to say whether she will travel abroad to compete in Track & Field events for the summer 2011 Special Olympic World Games, to be held in Athens, Greece.
A tribute to Abeâ€™s 200th birthday
Being a native of our nationâ€™s capital; Iâ€™ve had opportunities to visit many memorials and historic cubbyholes in that region. In Alexandria, Virginia, you can chug ales at the same bar George Washington used to get snookered in, taking his false choppers out, telling â€œwoodenâ€ you like to know what type of saucy jokes. One of my favorite things to do while in D.C. is to take a determined stroll across the National Mall during the Spring Cherry Blossom Festival and watch people from various walks of life, react to assortments of tourist attractions - taking it all in on a nice sunny day.
I encourage Idahoans who have never visited D.C. to consider doing so. It was inspiring to see many Idahoans on the mall during the recent Obama-Biden inauguration. Basking in the stately presence of powerful monuments and towering museums dedicated to our nations ideals, relays a first-class perspective of the potential that our democratic process can actually bring.Â Â
The National Archives Building on the mall displays an original copy of the Magna Carta. There you can alsoÂ find, behind bulletproof glass, Americaâ€™s Constitution, The Bill of Rights and The Emancipation Proclamation. Flash photography is prohibited in order to preserve these charters of freedom. Within the same perimeter The White House and Capitol offer informative group tours. Even a newly opened Native American museum now rests near the Capitol. Some tourists who have started from these whirlwind tours have returned for full summers to examine the multitude of attractions contained in our massive Mall.
For those of you living in the Wood River Valley, pilgrimaging to Washington D.C. during the Annual Blossom festival is a fine idea. Ski season will have tapered down, so itâ€™s a good time to leave this muddy town. Slack specials with short layovers through Salt Lake or Seattle are readily available online. Last minute cheap seats can have you jetting out of Idaho in the morning and over the Potomac River by afternoon. If youâ€™re flying into Reagan National Airport, try to book a window seat, for an all-encompassing view of some of our Nationâ€™s finest museums, bustling art galleries and memorials. From Reagan, the clean and inexpensive subway leads safely onto the Mall at the Smithsonian Metro stop.
I like to jump off from this underground outlet, and then work my way over towards the Lincoln Memorial, scrutinizing the congregating visitors there. The Lincoln Memorial lies towards the west end of the Mall, but for many it is the heart.Â Â
Controversy notwithstanding, I like to identify with Lincoln, admiring how he matured his mind, regardless of prevailing public opinion. As the founding father of our Republican Party,Â AbeÂ taught us that in special circumstances, flip-flopping can be a healthy choice. Additionally through a physical manifestation, I am exactly the same height Abe was, though my beard isÂ shorter and my stovepipe hat perhaps a bit more asymmetrical.
Those in attendance at the Lincoln Memorial often gather reverently around the base of this larger-than-life Statue, which honors our larger than life forefather, who helped to liberate many oppressed Americans. Sometimes tourists shriek in the surreal setting, Sprechgesanging, â€œI can hardly believe Iâ€™m here!â€ The Greek Doric temple design of the Lincoln Memorial is superb enough to strike awe in the most casual of visitors. This profound symbol of American Democracy is one that gets its job done right.
The Lincoln memorial has been the setting for some of the finest speeches ever made. Martin Luther King Jrâ€™s breathtaking â€œI Have a Dreamâ€ speech from 1963 reverberates there â€“still talked about in the surrounding cherry blossom ether to this day. A recently installed podium at the base of Lincolnâ€™s feet commemorates this speech.Â Â
Sometimes the Mall becomes rather crowded. If you visit the Lincoln memorial during the cherry blossom festival, itâ€™s comparable to visiting Ketchum during Wagon Days â€“only instead of 20,000 tourists youâ€™ll find 200,000. If you like breathing in Ketchumâ€™s Gallery walk events, then in D.C. you will gasp at the grand masterpieces offered by the Hirshorn, Freer and National Galleries of Art, along with futuristic art at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum.Â
Snippets of cosmopolitan conversations charge the charming atmosphere. Once I enjoyed seeing 200 varieties of potatoes from South America displayed at the Mallâ€™s International Folk Festival. Discovering multiple varieties of potatoes in the shadow of the Lincoln Memorial was a rush for me. Scientists explain, that not only is variety the spice of life, but that cultivating such diversity enables farmers to have options to choose by, in the event some potatoes conform to blight or nematodes. Limited homogenized forms of Idaho potatoes can be boring.
So too, it is the same with human beings. And the Abe Lincoln Memorial celebrates this fact. Multiculturalism is a cornerstone of our country. â€œGive us your huddled massesâ€ is what another fine figurine, The Statue of Liberty, beckons. â€“Although Lawrence Ferlinghetti has started painting a revised outlook on this:
If you were to take a ball and free it from a chain at the base of Lincolnâ€™s ankles; it would bounce down the marble steps and into a magnificent reflecting pool. Startled herons from that pond would take off and symbolically free fly alongside kites, Frisbees and floating cherry blossoms, rising in the current heat of politiciansâ€™ bloated airs to boomerang by the windows of the 555-foot tall Washington Monument.
From this part of your whirlwind tour -like the heron you can fearlessly navigate a paddleboat returning through the Tidal Basinâ€™s deep waters. The ebbing and flowing brine water is a refreshing break from Idahoâ€™s stagnant Winter Brrrrhs. Slack spent at the Potomac waterfront at sea level breathing in blooming cherry air, warms the spring inside you and seeds your own blossoming.
The Mayor of Tokyo, Japan along with Dr. Jokichi Takamine, the discoverer of adrenaline, donated many of these cultivated trees along the Potomac waterfront. After Pearl Harbor was bombed, some of these trees were hacked down by irate citizens. Though Japan was an Axis power in WW2, they are now officially friends again -nectaring on our side- and no longer considered an â€œAxis of Evilâ€ according to the broadsheets.
If you are a news junkie as I am, then you will probably enjoy the Newseum. This museum for newspapers has recently reopened with hundreds of headlines aligning the entrance wall. Besides ancient news memorabilia, they even have on display an early Gutenberg Press. If you make it there, they have a suggestion box, and I recommend you ask for more Idaho exposure, since Abe Lincoln had such a close connection with Idaho.
If youâ€™re looking for a Civil War token to bring back to Idaho commemorating your trip, a special tourist attraction that trades Honest Abe memorabilia stands in the silhouette of the Lincoln Memorial. If you visit D.C. some spring, chances are that it will be a warm day. After promenading around the mall in the parching sun for a few miles, youâ€™ll be delighted to see some outdoor beer (and soda) vendors, where sometimes actual descendants of slaves are prepared to emancipate you from the repressive heat.Â Â
When you hand the suds-proclamator a five-dollar bill with its picture of Abe, youâ€™ll notice on the flip-side a picture of the same Doric temple you are genuflecting before. Symbolically youâ€™ll return with more sense than you came with, because your copper change grasps more Lincolns with each cent the unchained manâ€™s hand returns you in kind, while his cash registers a freedom bell.
The mythological status that we bestow upon winning sports icons is inspirational, but all too often our must-win culture deems the person who places second a failure. Take for instance,Â Germany’s Jan Ullrich: Here is a man who actually won the Tour de France bike race back in 1997 and earned second five other times. Mr. Ullrich is also a gold and silver medal Olympic Champion. Yet in 2005, right before that yearâ€™s race, USA Today portrayed Mr. Ullrich as an â€œalso ranâ€ saying, â€œHe lacks mental toughnessâ€ (Reibal). Here is a super athlete in the top one-billionenth percentile of all human racers; yet the media continuously portrays him as a loser. Something needs fixed when according to such doctrines, if you are not sitting on top of the world you are a letdown.Â Â
The same goes for professional sports at many levels. Even though Boston and New Yorkâ€™s baseball teams sometimes win pennants for World Series berths â€“unless the team actually wins the series, it is a tough traumatic event for the team and that teamâ€™s city! Enthusiasts, whose teams score second, truly believe that their lives as fans would have improved in magnificent ways, had not the most infinitesimal ofÂ heartless pebbles shifted an easy grounder, to bobbleÂ an erroneous course through their first basemanâ€™s legs. When this happens, teams instantly trade â€˜losingâ€™ players, while managersâ€™ heads get the chop. For years, fans caught wearing the insignia or even colors of the trailing team, become subject to ridicule -at least til that next rematch. Sometimes this happens even when the team is generating millions in profits, and would be considered successful by most other business model measurements.
The honorable thing to do is, is to ignore this mockery, while attempting to gain character from the process. This is not easy, as there are hundreds of Monday morning â€œexpertâ€ pundits for every professional player and coach. Yet sports figures with integrity can rise above this common challenge and prove successful by disregarding this charged blather; knowing that as important as fanzines portray these games to be, they can look to many other vital things in life to gain rewards from. Real sports superstars often use lessons distilled from their competive glory days to shine in non-sports related venues, contributing global assists to the downtrodden.Â Â
Sportspersons have much to live up to, when glorified as idols that represent everything good in this weary world. A few aspire to and actually reach this high standard and are worthy of such idolization. It is excellent when they attain this level, but even the most glorified of heroes make mistakes. Being subject to failure humanizes the most respected of sports idols, but if they handle this quandary properly, they can come away even more victorious, albeit human. Paradoxically, being fallible enables humans to overcome mistakes, achieving higher levels of admiration than they could if they were actually flawless entities.Â Â
A prime example of sportsmanship played out in 1976 on a field at the Spokane Special Olympics. During the 100-yard dash race, physically and mentally disabled contestants assembled beaming full of life, with each one, eager to win. At the gun, they started out, except for one small lad who stumbled, rolled over and began to cry. One or two participants heard the boy and turned back. A young girl with Down Syndrome bent down on the racetrack, kissed him, and said, â€œThis will make it better.â€ Then they linked arms and walked in unison to the finish line. Everyone in the stadium stood stunned. There was not a dry eye in the arena, and the cheering still echoes years later, resonating in witnessesâ€™ heads when they recount the story. This incident demonstrates how â€œTrue Championsâ€ sometimes thrive in unexpected places; places some might wrongly regard as lowly.Â Â
Tales of football icons fumbling their fortunes emerge from the underside of the arena:Â
It seems that many fabled players, after having everything in life catered for them, have had difficult times re-adjusting to less lavish lifestyles when their careers are cut short. Some end up strung out on skid row or even in jail. Bruce Lowitt from the St. Petersburg Times writes about players who have resorted to selling their Super Bowl Rings only a few years after earning them. In his story, â€œGetting the ring can be easier than keeping itâ€, he interviews Kansas City pawnshop owner Don Budd, who says, â€œIt was hard for me to believe that someone could reach that pinnacleâ€¦and be willing to give up the one object that says, â€˜I was the best.â€™â€ Nowadays, Mr. Budd averages 10 players a season, who sell out their rings in this â€œlast line of defense between poverty and homelessnessâ€ (Lowitt).
Yet sometimes, after hitting all-time life-lows even these trounced players bounce back up again, redeeming themselves as even better persons than they had been at the height of their ball-playing careers. Hall-of-Famer Jim Brown, (who was raised by his great-grandmother from age two, because his parents were gone and his grandmother was an alcoholic) left football while at the top of his sport, moving up even higher on the scale of true importance to counsel troubled teenagers and creatingÂ positive inroads for getting gangbangers off streets. After all, for kids struggling in traumatic times, seriously doubting everything, nothing beats hearing legitimately gifted voices of experience from high-profile persons who have tasted extremes of both sweetness and bitterness. From delicate golden syrupy pancakes stuffed with caviar and Savoy-truffles andÂ Faberge omelets, to soppy milquetoast and rotten eggs for breakfast with a side of saltwater decaf from Hard-Times CafÃ©.
Embracing wide spectrums of experience develops a broader person. Denial of bad experiences is necessary within certain degrees, but in many cases, denial isnâ€™t the healthiest course of action.Â Â
How often in life, have you heard someone say about a traumatic event, â€œI wish it hadnâ€™t happened to me, but Iâ€™m a better person for it?â€ In Kathleen McGowanâ€™s Psychology Today article, â€œThe Hidden Side of Happinessâ€ she shows how â€œa rich rewarding life often requires a messy battle with adversityâ€ and that â€œthere is a built-in human capacity to flourish under the most difficult circumstancesâ€ Thus the paradox, â€œwhat doesnâ€™t kill you can actually make you stronger.â€ We sometimes confuse adversity with failure; therefore making a distinction between the two can be healing in of itself. Knowing that you have given it your best at a sporting event or some other task, yet did not â€œwinâ€ first place, should not by any means disallow you to proudly walk away from your valiant efforts.Â Â
In the mountaineering community, there are several well-documented incidents of professional climbers attempting to ascend high peaks, and then due to safety or weather concerns, turning around within shouting distance of the summit. Jon Krakauer, in his award-winningÂ Into Thin Air chronicles the case of Swedish ultra-athlete Goran Kropp. After traveling from sea-level Sweden on a specially built bicycle laden with 240 lbs of gear, robbed and beaten along the way, Mr. Kropp finally reached the base of Mt. Everest, intending to climb it without bottled oxygen or Sherpa support. After a few training days, Goran reached 26,000 feet, aiming for the top the next morning right after midnight. Krakauerâ€™s eagle-eyed perspective recounts:
â€œFor the first time in months almost no wind blasted the summit, but the snow on the upper mountain was thigh deep, making for slow exhausting progress. Kropp bulled his way relentlessly, upward through the drifts, however, about by two oâ€™clock Thursday afternoon heâ€™d reached 28,700 feet, just below the South Summit. But even though the top was no more than sixty minutes above, he decided to turn around, believing that he would be too tired to descend safely if he climbed any higherâ€
â€œTo turn around that close to the summitâ€¦,â€ (Rob) Hall mused with a shake of his head on May 6 as Kropp plodded past Camp Two on his way down the mountain. â€œThat showed incredibly good judgment on young Goranâ€™s part. Iâ€™m impressed â€“ considerably more impressed actually, than if heâ€™d continued climbing and made the top.â€ (Krakauer).Â Â
Therefore, it is nice to see that at least in mountaineering circles, you do not have to park yourself on top of the world to be a winner. Principled warriors from other avenues of life would do well to take note of this. Being able to analyze mistakes, remember and learn from them, applying them to future tests, is one of the highest aspirations achievable and a fundamental nature of wisdom. Studying and learning from our failures can be a great human gift.Â
` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `
Krakauer, Jon. â€œInto Thin Air (excerpt).â€ Salon 24 May 1997. 20 November 2006. http://www.salon.com/may97/wanderlust/passages970524.html
Lowitt, Bruce. â€œGetting the ring can be easier than keeping it.â€ St. Petersburg Times 26 January 2001. 11 November 2006 http://www.sptimes.com/News/012601/SuperBowl 2001/Getting_the_ring_can_.shtml
McGowan, Kathleen. â€œThe Hidden Side of Happiness.â€ Psychology Today 02 May 2006. 08 November 2006 http://www.psychologytoday.com/rss/pto-20060216- 00001.html
Reibal, Sal. â€œFocus gives Lance head start as Tour de France nears.â€ USA Today 01 July 2005. 10 Nov. 2006 http://www.usatoday.com/sports/cycling/tourdefrance/2005- 06-30-armstrong-cover_x.html
Warning! The following puzzle contains someÂ serious satire:
Some Cingular-minded blowhards have been complaining that driving over Galena pass while holding stimulating cell phone conversations is unsafe. Not only that, but they also moan that texting; the spice of our new age, is somehow a menace to other drivers. Next thing you know, these closed-minded blogcritics will probably implore ITD to ban distracting car radios, and soon after that, prohibit families from singing together in perfect harmony!
They will say that we never created the Sawtooth Recreation area for singing. If you want to sing praises of nature, take it inside to a real church! Yet a few courageous ones will penetrate through, whispering lightÂ good-vibration exultations under their breaths. Eventually, enlightened choir members will realize that they can claim their singing is that of a recreational nature, just as groups of constructive cell phone conversationalists will rightly claim, talking next to a waterfall, is a favorite method of theirs for recreating.Â
This epiphany will create a new problem for our courts, when recreating chorus groups gather on sacred government ground, daring to chant The Ten Commandments.
Back to the multitasking mantra: If we are never encouraged to develop our multitasking skills, then surely those talents will deteriorate. Certainly, our roads are filled with drivers of various skill levels, some of who cannot handle more than one task at a time. Some of them probably have no business being on the road, but thatâ€™s a hard call; snatching away somebodyâ€™s freedom like that. Distractive driving is aÂ subject more complicated than most media are making it out to be. When you consider that one in ten drivers have admitted to falling asleep at the wheel, devices weâ€™ve sometimes pigeonholed as distractive, such as car radios, cell phones and truckersâ€™ lively banter over C. B. radios, can suddenly be looked at as awakening tools.Â Â Â Â
Henry Kahne was known as the man with the multiple mind, whose brain could thrive on six things at the same time. In a 1925 Strand Magazine interview, he talks about how he first began to develop his remarkable talents:Â Â Â Â Â
“When did you first discover your ability to direct your mind into several channels of thought simultaneously?”
“At the age of 14, when I was at school. In most lessons, excepting mathematics, I was rather backwards — not because I hadnâ€™t the ability to learn, but because I did not pay attention. I was an absent-minded youth, a daydreamer — always letting my mind wander, thinking out little mechanical inventions, planning new forms of code writing, or evolving plots for short stories. One day my teacher fired a sudden question at me, and finding that I was not paying attention, hauled me out for corporal punishment. It was really the feeling of his cane that first turned my thoughts in the direction of multiple mind concentration. I did not want to give up my daydreams, but on the other hand, I had a distinct aversion to corporal punishment. So after a while I got into the habit of letting one part of my brain wander into the realms of inventive fancy whilst I kept the other alert for an enfilade fire of questions from the teacher.â€Â Â
Some people highly capable of handling the multitasking mental storm are sometimes looked upon as freaks.Â Â Â
“But to talk to Mr Kahne is to discover that, although he has exceptional abilities, he is not by any means a freak. If he displays genius, it is not the kind that is akin to madness, but rather of the more creditable variety, generally spoken of as “an infinite capacity for taking pains”. “It is all a matter of development and practice”, he told me. “Just as the acrobat or juggler trains muscles and nerves that even an athlete overlooks, so have I trained brain cells which the average mental worker seldom attempts to being into use.”
Â Surely, I mostly jest when it comes to texting over Galena Summit and wouldnâ€™t even recommend it to Henry Kahne, unless he was a captive passenger. However, after reading about the ultimate multitasker, Iâ€™ve become curious about what other tinhorn and high-altitude seriousÂ bloggers find to be their most useful and entertaining multitasking talents. And if we come up with enough good ones, perhaps we should hold a demonstration day up near the summit, toÂ encourage furtherÂ development of these high-valued skills.Â
Rep. Stephen Hartgen is crafting a bill requiring bloggers and online commenters to post under their real names. While some say this is sensible, when authors reveal their true selves, they often surrender much power. If Steve’s law actually passes, how do we purport to penalize, parables and plenteous poems posted by Anonymous?
And what sentence would we mete out, for someone like Samuel Clemens who blogs whimsical wisdoms under Mark Twain’s pseudonym?
Will readers be more or less intrigued when they discover George Eliot is masking femininity?
Please don’t tell me Stephen King was disingenuous when he penned his entertaining Richard Bachman mysteries.
Should we have lashed JCampbell for his posting a treatise about the hero with a thousand faces?
And how should we expect Clint Eastwood to sign his mark as Pale Rider’s nameless preacher?
Is our government suited to sue in matters of the Bible’s true author, shaky proofs of Shakespeare and secret scribes of the Koran?
And what about unidentified whistleblowers, who sense the importance of reporting unfortunate industrial mishaps, in hopes of preventing needless recurrences.
As such clampdowns made little sense for anonymous authors of antiquity, we should not impose speech-crippling regulations on our modern-day blogosphere.
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Last potato moon harvest, I conjured up some Spiritual Robots while searching for anÂ artwork project. Suddenly, sixteen Google images appeared, and twelve of these featured IT men attendingÂ artificial intelligence synposiums.Â The first thing that stood out in the photos was that most of the participants were taking it sitting down.Â Â
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Robots are becoming increasingly humanlike, as people get more rigid. Seems cute in a faraway Ozâ€™es Tin man way, but the twain shall meet someday -perhaps sooner than you’ve imagined.
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Actually, we are already overlapping; No eye contact sealed in on â€œfreeways.â€ Canâ€™t get a real person on the phone? Thatâ€™s an old problem. Now itâ€™s depersonalized electronic chatter sent between cubed workers, sealed farÂ from fresh breezes inÂ windowless offices. Calculating city kids seldom step out from cybercaves for fear that a yellowcake snowflake dripping from our acid sky will quickly rust their cautiously pessimisticÂ tongues. But when youngsters do venture to tiptoeÂ outdoors, tooÂ manyÂ plug in as pod people, to feed off music of irregular beats with strangers â€“rather than having actual conversations.Â
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â These days pratically every body part is replaceable. Even the Vice-President has artificial heart valves. We could use machinesÂ to help us make wise decisions, but many of us let them decide. Swirling Slots in Nevada hypnotize many who would be better off watching whirling dervishes. With new money rushing through their veins, Gas station lottery winners declare â€œI always knew I was going to hit the number!â€ However, millions with similar wishes become numb zombies when their birthright fortunes spiral downward.
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Nonetheless, machines take us everywhere, mechanically marchingÂ upward,Â throughÂ water, snow and air. They list of whatÂ they canâ€™t doÂ ever-shrinks. Artificial intelligence systems help doctors diagnose medical concerns. You can play twenty questions over the â€œInternetsâ€ in intelligence experiments. A futuristic system learns from us in vast ways as we feed it more information. Robots can disarm bombs.
They can help assess hostage situations,Â while delivering a pizza. However, at what point will the gollem spirits begin running a new lottery of whom gets to live and die? Making itÂ easier for controllers to further justify dehumanizingÂ â€œoutside enemies.â€
Â Â Â Â Â Â Forty moons ago,Â as great Google toutedÂ their don’t be evil motto; theirÂ automatic newsÂ aggregator proudly proclaimed that their information results were â€œcompiled solely by computer algorithms, without human intervention.â€ Then what ancient first seeded us with these mathematical algorithms? Do they fine-tune themselves? At night does a robot mouse dust and vacuum the Googleplex nano-nuts and bolts into absolute purity? Iâ€™m having a nightmare that itâ€™s terminally daytime for robots. Perhaps, if I breathe fresh air deepÂ with my own lungs and Count Five,Â my rational psychotic reaction willÂ taper off.Â Â Â Â Â Â
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Doctors in our Country have institutionalized thousands of patients into mental hospitals unnecessarily then over medicated them into robotic states for stinking profit. More jails are planned but with less real rehabilitation prospects â€“creating millions of outcasts. What a great backup slave labor force these dispossessed will make in the event, the next line of robotic Iron Men develop glitches. Increased frivolous laws with stricter enforcement and draconian sentences translate into job security for the machine-likeÂ penal systems.Â
Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Instead of spending more money to lock prisoners away into subhuman states at record levels, ideal communities could preemptively strike at root causes of â€œwaywardnessâ€ by caring more about schools. Higher pay could attract more inspired instructors -resulting inÂ better outcomes for our youngsters. However, what exactly are these root causes? Should not we be cautious in screening our children from the normal difficulties they encounter as they emerge from the age of innocence? WhoÂ screens the medicine screeners? Vacuous, steel-hearted leaders fiddling with low approval ratings? Perhaps a savant metallically inoculated into mathematical beauty could lend the social engineers some thoughts on whatâ€™s worth tracking…Â Â Â Â
As much as I harp on about mechanizationâ€™s hostile takeover of society, I would like to thank Google’s robots for helpingÂ with this article. I hear they have a contrary cousin, who enjoys beer! He’s probably the most humanlike robot yet. One who really seeks to understand man. Next time he flies in for the non-motorized parade, I would like repaying him with some special input. Sharing ales poured out in inexact measurements, weâ€™ll saddle up to watch some sports together.Â Iâ€™ll strike up a lively conversation, explaining how the most difficult thing for them to accomplish will be finding ways to replaceÂ unique qualities inherent inÂ athletes and artists. Futhermore, we’ll ruminate about why we need human referees for these gladiator games we worship. Later, my smart-pill friends will tell my pre-fab palsey-walsey that we ape-revolvers should teach the Trans-humans to sing with us in perfect harmony. Some day we’ll compose beautiful music together. In this way, the robot will quickly delve into the deepest dimensions of the soul. Because you see, the way things are heading with my fancy free speech, weâ€™ll be singing the most heart rendering songs chorded together on a chain gang. Power-pointed Feds will allow this machine into designated wilderness areas so he can joyfully hold a bucket for me to mop plutonium off the previously pristine primitive foliage. I promise that metalbreath and me wonâ€™t give any lip if our guard can find himself human enough to conjureÂ up some potato hooch nightcaps to keep us from finally blowing our tops,Â while we cloister warmly in each other’sÂ metamechanical arms, deep within a modern Minidoka Managemental camp.
The uncharted territory of Transhumanism: http://www.crisismagazine.com/may2007/pavlat.htm
Computers must learn to forget
Reading about the Miracle on the Hudson, it struck me that if the incident had gone another way, then naysayers would have likely interpreted this as a bad augury against Obama, with the potent synchronicity of a plane crash in New York at the beginning of his administration.
When I saw the photo of people miraculously balancing on wingtips above water, this struck me as a very good omen; especially since peacenik warrior Pete Seeger has contributed folksongs about this mighty river, has led constructive environment efforts to restore the Hudsonâ€™s purity and while approaching age ninety, still thrives along its shores to this day.
As much has been made of the fact that the Express now owns 127 years of The Old Wood River Journalâ€™s historical newspaper records; and hold these ancient archives in high esteem; I was surprised to learn that the equally important Wood River Journal online archive, which stretches back a decade or more, is no longer available. When I asked several of my former colleagues at both newspapers about this, some of them believed that Lee Enterprises still holds the searchable archives. However when I questioned Leeâ€™s management, they said the Express controls these.
If this is true, and it is the Expressâ€™s intent to keep these records offline, there are several reasons, why they should reconsider. Besides profiting in a karmatic way, they could also profit financially in this tough time for newspapers everywhere. First, I cannot imagine that keeping these precious archives up would even be very expensive. Especially when measuring that cost against the invaluable benefits, such historical records can contribute to communities. If the Express will please reconsider, there are several workable solutions at hand, including a fundraiser here, oriented towards newspaper aficionados and local historical buffs. This episode is now reminding me of a well-received letter, I submitted last year, to curators at The Newseum:
Letâ€™s not allow reporters epic efforts, sink down the memory-hole drain in vainÂ Â
As more newspapers like The Albuquerque TribuneÂ WR Journal and probably soon to be Seattle Post Intelligencer, continue going out of business, we should make concerted efforts to preserve their precious archives. Many newspapers start out struggling; never knowing if they are going to make it beyond a few years. Therefore, they never budget annually, very much, in way of back scanning their archives (Though many State libraries make diligent efforts to do so.)
Recently, (Wash. Post owned) Slate Magazine ran an article bashing their cross-town rival USA Todayâ€™s ambitious Newseum project, by comparing it to the new American Indian Museum on our National Mall. Essentially, Slate said that both museums â€œwere designed to be the sumptuous setting for candle-lit fundraisers, where you can almost hear the clink of highball glasses and the jing-a-ling of jewelry.”
However, many fundraisers are actually used for constructive purposes. I would like to submit to the USA Today and Newseum board of directors, that they consider holding an annual fundraiser with the intention to salvage several newspapers that have gone beyond the brink. They could set up a committee, with a set of criteria for eligible newspapers, using a simple algorithm that involves historical context, the age of the newspaper, past awards won, average circulation amounts, whether a library has preserved their precious records of antiquity, and other relative parameters for markers to see who is best qualified, to not have their reporters enduring efforts just tossed into recycle. Besides salvaging newspapers gone back to the wild, the Newseum or some other good-willed newspaper-aficionado entity could help protect the historical archives of a handful of newspapers every year, which are still struggling to hang in there. Such funding could help construct enhanced fireproof storage facilities and state-of-the art fire-protection systems; much as visionary librarians have installed, to better protect our priceless records of antiquity, which have not yet been back-scanned or mirrored.Â
Besides a fundraiser, the Express could start charging a small fee or kindly ask for donations from archive users over their secure server, with the simple explanation that donations help fund the searchable archives. Â
Some readers maintain that any news item that ran in the Wood River Journal can already be found in the Expressâ€™s archives. I strongly disagree, as many weeks the Journal ran a completely different set of excellent letters to the editor, had separate award-winning columnists, and sometimes ran feature stories, including featured businesswomen of the valley and a long running series on war veterans. Not only that, but their (now the Expressâ€™s) website used to include on the drop down menu, a link to some of the best stories distilled from their 125 year history into a comprehensive anthology! Â
Last year, I suggested a tribute to Idaho war veterans to (then publisher) Jerry Brady. With the Expressâ€™s acquisition of the Journal, this makes for an opportunity to revamp that suggestion, by augmenting it with the dozens of well-written articles Mr. Cordes and others have already scribed about our dedicated veterans:
â€œThe dozens of articles that Journal and Express reporters have written about our armed service veterans over the past few years are greatly impressive. Over the last few years, I remember thinking, while reading key feature stories by Jeff Cordes, Kelly Jackson and Karen Bossick and others what a grand thing it would be for our community, if the newspaper did a little something more with these in-depth articles.
Since the stories are already written, the paper could go back at limited expense and simply cobble together a magazine or small book about our veterans to present to each of the regional history department heads of our local libraries. Other places where such a book would be a good fit are: the coffee tables of our senior center, local armory, American Legion, Blaine Manor, St. Lukes, the Sun Valley Lodge, Sun Valley Adaptive Sports vans, etc. Imagine how far those feelings of good will could go, if the newspaper presented a copy of this book as a gift, during next years ceremonious ribbon-cutting at the new Senior Center.Â Â
Another way the paper could keep our Veterans vast experiences alive is a link to these stories within a special button on their website. Again, as the stories are already written, and most already online within the database, it doesnâ€™t seem that such a tribute would take more than several hours to organize and then link to as a Veteranâ€™s feature archive.Â Â
If my estimate is off and the newspaperâ€™s management deems such a project to be too costly, my father â€“who is an American Legion Commander (back east) â€“reminds us that many American Legions and other veteran groups usually have strong-willed volunteers available to freely contribute and work in conjunction with local newspaperson such meaningful tasks.Â Â
Perhaps the time is too tight right now to get something like this running by this Memorial Day; however, if the paper were to make an announcement for an intention for a soon enhanced tribute, this would please many veterans. Perhaps the staff could plan to hand out copies of this special limited edition magazine to interested readers, during Haileyâ€™s celebrated Fourth of July parade this summer.Â Â
I believe that such powerful articles deserve to be reprinted and featured in several prominent valley locations as respectful reminders to those, who have patriotically served our great country.â€
Last week, I submitted this suggestion to the Express. As they frequently run strong editorials that speak against deftly airbrushing history, I trust they will take to heart seriously some of the things I have said here and I thank their open-minded management for taking the time to read my suggestions. I have posted this suggestion here, for the greater community to elaborate on constructive thoughts they, too, may have for preserving records of their community.
Some of my former colleagues at the Journal are curious to know if the archives will be online for the benefit of their personal portfolios. Friends here have also suggested thatÂ whenever newspapers go up for sale, what happens to the archives â€“ both in print and online â€“ should be an important factor for attorneys to negotiate, and somebody involved with our national archives should draft a leading model on this, rather than beingÂ taken lightly as an afterthought, with so much of our precious history precariously on the brink of being flushed down the memory hole.
Most years, in preparation for April Fools day, I like to peruse around local stores and the Internets to see what new surprises are out on the joke market. Last year, I discovered a handful of prank noise devices, most of which struck me as too annoying. One gadget however, unexpectedly stood out, high above the others. This levelheaded toy was the Mister Rogers in your pocket device:
Most of the other sound devices for sale were geared towards loathsome clattering. Not so, Mr. Rogers. This keychain device includes the following bulletproof sayings and short-range song missives, taken directly from his show:
Â·Â Please won’t you be my neighbor?
Â·Â Discovering truth will make me free
Â·Â I like you just the way you are
Â·Â I think I’ll make a snappy new day
Â·Â It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood; a beautiful day for a neighbor
Â·Â Do you ever talk about love with somebody you care for? I hope you do.
Entranced with this simple toy, I rummaged around to learn more about Mister Rogers. By logging onto YouTube, I discovered him testifying truth in 1969, before the United States Senate Subcommittee on Communications. As President Nixon had proposed considerable PBS funding cuts, Mr. Rogers appeared there to support that funding:
As seen in this video, Mr. Rogers holds his own against powerful Senate subcommittee chairman Pastori with the message â€œIâ€™m very much concerned as I know you are about what about whatâ€™s being delivered to our children in this country.â€
Mr. Rogers once said, â€œI went into television because I hated it so, and I thought there was some way of using this fabulous instrument to be of nurture to those who would watch and listen.”
Some of Mister Rogersâ€™s fans believe that he was a modern-day prophet and that for people looking to achieve spiritual enlightenment, he is one of our best TV models.Â
Itâ€™s funny how Iâ€™ve evolved to thinking about these powerful items now, when I utilize Mr.Â Rogersâ€™ talking key chain in a jocular manner, for occasionally disarming sticky situations. After watching, Mr. Rogers charm Senator Pastori, I wonder how itsÂ effectiveness would rate as a beguiling implement of peace, when compared with the simplistic solutions of soldiersÂ dipping bullets in pig fat, or utilizing the worldâ€™s funniest joke on war torn battlefields.