This week, Facebook has been a major feature in the news. They have launched a whole new format for their webpage, which, like it or not, you are stuck with. The true purpose of Facebook, always thinly veiled behind the respectable curtain of sociability, has never been more apparent. Clicks and Likes are what count to their advertisers, and Facebook has stepped up to the plate of advertising dollars and sold out their original ideals, not only to the highest bidder, but to anyone who will pay them for your information.
A quick disclaimer here. I have been on Facebook for years, although not as early as my son, who was the 30th Kansas State University student to sign up. I never liked MySpace, and wasn't a huge fan of Facebook, either, but got into it for a singular purpose and never got disconnected. I have always been a little uncomfortable with the whole concept of Facebook. What you put online is truly forever, and someone can drag it out 50 or 100 years from now, and there isn't a thing you can do about it. That makes me nervous.
I have always had a bit of a love/hate relationship with social media, and technology, generally. I am all for privacy, the more the better, and every new technology strips a little more of our personal privacy away. Things like Foursquare and Check-in give me the shivers, because the thought of someone following my movements that closely is both laughable and not funny at all.
But the world has entered a Brave New Era where nothing, and I do mean NOTHING, is truly private any more. It is an interesting irony that Congress has finally grabbed onto the back of the privacy bandwagon as it rushed by. Of course, in their usual whiplash inducing way, they have taken away with one hand what they have given us with the other, passing HIPAA laws to protect patient privacy, while at the same time requiring all patient records to be online for any provider we consult to access. Not that it matters, since most people post their entire lives on facebook with total abandon, anyway. But does a dermatologist really need to know about my bowel issues, or when I had my last flu shot?
To be fair, I do enjoy the occasional stalking session myself, looking at pictures of friends and family, reading about the vacations they take, seeing their children or their grandchildren, seeing what is on the minds of people who frequent my newly revamped secret-facebook-generated-algorithm-for-my-top-stories wall. So it would be hypocritical of me to pretend that I don't also benefit from, and often partake in, the fruits of everyone else's Facebook labors.
And there is an additional hypocrisy, I realize, in posting a public blog while complaining about facebook's lack of privacy. But a blog, although it can reveal a lot about a person, doesn't chronicle my up to the moment whereabouts, or show my activities in real time, unless I want it to. Facebook, on the other hand, is about to do exactly that, whether I want it to or not. Am I the only one who finds that a little scary? Call me paranoid, but maybe I'm not the crazy one after all.
I don't know the answer to the facebook dilemma. You can put all the privacy controls on your content that you want, but you are still only one screen shot emailed to the wrong person away from disaster anyway. That profile picture you thought you were restricting can be downloaded by anyone who knows how to right click and e-mailed or posted anywhere they choose, whether you like it or not. Whatever you say to your friend is being said to anyone else who can read their wall. That is a lot of people knowing you hate carrots or went on vacation to Disney World.
Most of us do not lead exciting lives, and there probably isn't anyone out there watching our every movement. But even if no one is watching, I wonder if facebook doesn't encourage us to feel an artificially heightened sense of our own self-importance. I am a pretty boring person, with a pretty boring life. Why should anyone care what I post or what I'm thinking? Could it be that our recent level of public discord is associated with a sense that our opinion is more valuable, and valued by others, than, in fact, it actually is?
Computers, cell phones, microwaves, washing machines, automobiles - these technologies have, without question, enhanced the lives of everyone who uses them, and I have embraced them with gusto. But I wonder, in 100 years, how Facebook will be remembered? Will this connectedness be remembered as a help or a hindrance in a country polarized on every issue? Does it provide a point of common interest, or is it simply another way to advertise the lack of substance in our society?
Facebook, like everything else in this temporal world, your days are numbered. Birthday books and calendars were replaced by planners which were replaced by palm pilots which were replaced by computers and cell phones and Facebook. I suspect that somewhere in The Cloud, our next innovation is waiting to be born, and facebook will be a thing of the past. Nothing ever stays the same. I think facebook will go the way of the Apple IIe, remembered with fondness, but not exactly missed.
Maybe then we will get out of the light reflected off our glowing screens and show our face to the sun, and each other, again.
Of course, that will lead to skin cancer. As Roseanne Rosannadanna used to say, "It's always something."
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Saturday, September 10, 2011
The 23rd Psalm
As we remember those who shed these mortal bonds and flew to the arms of God on 9.11.2001, I cannot improve upon the 23rd Psalm.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul; He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Injustice served...
The case of Dominique Strauss-Kahn is a situation where just about everything that could go wrong did, leaving the public across the world with the impression that justice was not so much served as dropped on the floor and stomped on. [If you are unfamiliar with the story, google it. The media has already thoroughly covered the topic far more exhaustively than I would.] Since only the two people who were in that hotel suite know the truth, and they disagree so dramatically on what happened, there is very little room to compromise on the ending. The only thing that is clear is that someone lied, and someone is a victim, but we don't know who is which. It is an unsavory and dissatisfying conclusion to a sensational story, driven by a media that believes it has the right to pronounce sentence before all the facts are in.
How profoundly disappointing.
Problems with the outcome abound. Either a callous, self-centered rapist was allowed to go free, or a callous, self-serving money-grubber was allowed to get away with the total destruction of a man's international reputation. The trial by media, fueled by sensational details released by the prosecutor and embellished by an ever eager press, was over before the mug shot was snapped, the head of the IMF convicted more for his past misdeeds and his profligate lifestyle than for anything he did that morning. The reputation of the accuser has also taken a hit, partially from her own lies, and partially because the press went after her, as well.
No where in this situation was pure justice an evident consideration. This was always about evidence and proof, a he said-she said of grand proportions, an international scandal that brought down presidential aspirations and the dreams of a better life for a hotel maid from Guinea.
The French were scandalized by the picture of their presidential hopeful in handcuffs spread across the international news. That he is a roue and a cad seems incontrovertible. Even his best friends have been forced to admit that he cheats on his wife with a regularity and boldness that is somewhat breathtaking even in the morally relaxed France, to say nothing of here in the land of the Puritans. In fact, that seems to have been, in part, at least, his defense. Why, they posited, would a man who can cheat at will with any woman he chooses, take a woman by force? It makes no sense his friends proclaimed, even as another woman came forward with her own story of impropriety.
The prosecutor with the famous name [his father was Secretary of State under Jimmy Carter] and a career to protect brought forth the charges and forcefully defended the accuser, until more information came to light. We all know the wealthy and the powerful have a different system of justice applied to their cases. Perhaps it's unavoidable. But it seems, at least in this case, that the unequal treatment was turned against the man with the big reputation. He was a man who could determine the fate of a country on a whim, but couldn't stop the train wreck in which he had become entangled.
Had he been a poorer man, a less well known man, a less cosmopolitan man, would he have been treated differently? Would they have looked into the reputation of the accuser a little more fully before bringing charges? Would they have found out her lies and her enthusiasm for money before his picture was spread across the globe? I think the answer is obvious, and it says little for American justice that it could be so.
Did the accuser, an immigrant searching for a better life in a new locale, understand how thoroughly her story would be checked out? Did she know that her background would be examined by a press rabid for dirt and details, fueled by clicks rather than a desire for truth? I don't know for sure, but I suspect she had no idea of the scrutiny to which she would be subjected. Would that have changed her mind about reporting the incident? And will that level of scrutiny cause other women, genuine victims of the less famous, to refrain from reporting what they should?
There is another issue, too, which has barely been touched on, but which should matter to anyone concerned with true justice. In practical terms, how do we compensate a man for what was ultimately determined to be an indefensible accusation which ruined his reputation, cost him his job and his political supporters, and forced him to pay the costs for his own house arrest, which amounted to hundreds of thousands of dollars? In the end, the prosecutor requested that the charges be dropped, not because the man was powerful or famous, but because the story of his accuser simply didn't stand the smell test. Is that justice served? For anyone?
I suspect that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of the two opposing stories. A powerful, wealthy man, accustomed to getting what he wants, may well have made an assumption that a poor maid in a hotel room wouldn't say no, and acted on the impulse. And the maid, who may have originally said yes, possibly saw the brass ring and grabbed for it, not realizing that if she missed, she would fall off and get run over.
Two people, multiplied by the many lives touched by this scandal, will never be the same. Careers are over because of the fallout. The course of the IMF has been changed, whether for better or for worse remains to be seen, but certainly affecting countries across the globe. Although the long suffering, and one imagines fairly humiliated, wife has stood by her man thus far, I can only think that the marital bond will have been seriously strained by the events of the last few months. The prosecutor will be fighting for his job in the near future, and I can't imagine this episode will be helpful to him in retaining his position.
Two people, two stories, many careers, fabulous wealth, personal reputations, family ties, sex, and international intrigue - this story had just about everything. What it didn't have was a sense that justice was ever an intrinsic part of the process, much less the end goal. Trial by media is the latest fad, and it's one that I hope fades quickly. Innocent until proven guilty shouldn't just be an ideal, it should be the reality in a country that prides itself on the fairness of its system of justice.
The events of Saturday, May 14, 2011 will remain shrouded in mystery, perhaps even to the two people who participated in the whole debacle. Wealthy rapist, or falsely accused? Assault victim, or gold digger? Accuser and accused - which was which, we shall never know.
But justice was denied. Of that, we can be assured.
How profoundly disappointing.
Problems with the outcome abound. Either a callous, self-centered rapist was allowed to go free, or a callous, self-serving money-grubber was allowed to get away with the total destruction of a man's international reputation. The trial by media, fueled by sensational details released by the prosecutor and embellished by an ever eager press, was over before the mug shot was snapped, the head of the IMF convicted more for his past misdeeds and his profligate lifestyle than for anything he did that morning. The reputation of the accuser has also taken a hit, partially from her own lies, and partially because the press went after her, as well.
No where in this situation was pure justice an evident consideration. This was always about evidence and proof, a he said-she said of grand proportions, an international scandal that brought down presidential aspirations and the dreams of a better life for a hotel maid from Guinea.
The French were scandalized by the picture of their presidential hopeful in handcuffs spread across the international news. That he is a roue and a cad seems incontrovertible. Even his best friends have been forced to admit that he cheats on his wife with a regularity and boldness that is somewhat breathtaking even in the morally relaxed France, to say nothing of here in the land of the Puritans. In fact, that seems to have been, in part, at least, his defense. Why, they posited, would a man who can cheat at will with any woman he chooses, take a woman by force? It makes no sense his friends proclaimed, even as another woman came forward with her own story of impropriety.
The prosecutor with the famous name [his father was Secretary of State under Jimmy Carter] and a career to protect brought forth the charges and forcefully defended the accuser, until more information came to light. We all know the wealthy and the powerful have a different system of justice applied to their cases. Perhaps it's unavoidable. But it seems, at least in this case, that the unequal treatment was turned against the man with the big reputation. He was a man who could determine the fate of a country on a whim, but couldn't stop the train wreck in which he had become entangled.
Had he been a poorer man, a less well known man, a less cosmopolitan man, would he have been treated differently? Would they have looked into the reputation of the accuser a little more fully before bringing charges? Would they have found out her lies and her enthusiasm for money before his picture was spread across the globe? I think the answer is obvious, and it says little for American justice that it could be so.
Did the accuser, an immigrant searching for a better life in a new locale, understand how thoroughly her story would be checked out? Did she know that her background would be examined by a press rabid for dirt and details, fueled by clicks rather than a desire for truth? I don't know for sure, but I suspect she had no idea of the scrutiny to which she would be subjected. Would that have changed her mind about reporting the incident? And will that level of scrutiny cause other women, genuine victims of the less famous, to refrain from reporting what they should?
There is another issue, too, which has barely been touched on, but which should matter to anyone concerned with true justice. In practical terms, how do we compensate a man for what was ultimately determined to be an indefensible accusation which ruined his reputation, cost him his job and his political supporters, and forced him to pay the costs for his own house arrest, which amounted to hundreds of thousands of dollars? In the end, the prosecutor requested that the charges be dropped, not because the man was powerful or famous, but because the story of his accuser simply didn't stand the smell test. Is that justice served? For anyone?
I suspect that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of the two opposing stories. A powerful, wealthy man, accustomed to getting what he wants, may well have made an assumption that a poor maid in a hotel room wouldn't say no, and acted on the impulse. And the maid, who may have originally said yes, possibly saw the brass ring and grabbed for it, not realizing that if she missed, she would fall off and get run over.
Two people, multiplied by the many lives touched by this scandal, will never be the same. Careers are over because of the fallout. The course of the IMF has been changed, whether for better or for worse remains to be seen, but certainly affecting countries across the globe. Although the long suffering, and one imagines fairly humiliated, wife has stood by her man thus far, I can only think that the marital bond will have been seriously strained by the events of the last few months. The prosecutor will be fighting for his job in the near future, and I can't imagine this episode will be helpful to him in retaining his position.
Two people, two stories, many careers, fabulous wealth, personal reputations, family ties, sex, and international intrigue - this story had just about everything. What it didn't have was a sense that justice was ever an intrinsic part of the process, much less the end goal. Trial by media is the latest fad, and it's one that I hope fades quickly. Innocent until proven guilty shouldn't just be an ideal, it should be the reality in a country that prides itself on the fairness of its system of justice.
The events of Saturday, May 14, 2011 will remain shrouded in mystery, perhaps even to the two people who participated in the whole debacle. Wealthy rapist, or falsely accused? Assault victim, or gold digger? Accuser and accused - which was which, we shall never know.
But justice was denied. Of that, we can be assured.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Lazy days of summer....
When I was a child, the lazy days of summer were just that - a lazy, sun drenched oasis of relaxation in the midst of life. I devoted myself to reading books, laying in the sun, drinking my mom's special, and most delicious iced tea, and doing pretty much whatever I wanted for months on end. Looking back, it was idyllic, the serenity of the farm where I grew up covering me like a gentle blanket warm from the dryer.
As I got older, summer represented time to work extra hours, make more money, and try to get enough spending money for college, when I was chronically short of funds. (Much like now, but more tolerable then.)
In addition, I took summer school classes, trying hard to graduate in four years, despite changing my major several times. It was not lazy or relaxing in those years, it was stressful and busy, and fall came as a sort of relief valve from all the frenetic activity.
Grad school, which also came with marriage and motherhood, was busy all the time, as I learned to balance school, work and being a young mom. I no longer had the luxury of a minute to myself, and all my waking, (and half my sleeping) hours revolved around meeting the needs of other people. It was satisfying to see my little guy growing and learning and maturing so rapidly, but serene it wasn't.
When he was five, I became an at home mom, and learned about yet another kind of busy, especially once the next child put in her appearance. My home and family were my job, and I spent my time working hard to be sure that they had everything I could give them. We went to the zoo and the park and the pool. We enjoyed reading and playing games and playing outside.
I built a sandbox, and did elaborate landscaping. I cooked meals and planned parties and volunteered tirelessly at both church and school, trying the help make life better for everyone around me. It was rewarding work, and I enjoyed every second of it. But there are stresses even in volunteering, and being an at home mom can be lonely and boring, at times, too.
Eventually, the divorce hit me upside the head, and I had to make yet another change. Suddenly, I was the breadwinner, and it has been no easy task. As everyone who knows me has seen, I have struggled to find my way as a single mom. It is not easy to switch gears so rapidly, and the path has been strewn with more boulders than seems absolutely necessary. Time is something in short supply when you are trying to build up a sales-related business, and I haven't truly relaxed in years. There are a few lazy days thrown in, to be sure, but they are spent at the cost of a guilt trip that never seems to end.
Now that my children are both grown and out of the house, the days are back to just me, lazy or not at my whim. It's a new sort of alone, as my children are now doing the college juggle, trying to make money and still come home and see their friends. They are in and out, but they are independent, so I am now able to make my own plans and do my own thing in my own time, without regard for what other people are needing or wanting or doing. It's a new way of life, and I'm enjoying the solitude and peace once again.
Life is circular, I have learned, and eventually you meet yourself where you started. It's not exactly the same - I'm a lot older and a lot wiser, and there is no doubt that the years have taught me a lot. I have more responsibilities than I did when I was young, but I also have more freedom to do as I please, without regard for what anyone else wants.
Life is circular in a lot of ways, actually. People are born as others die. People graduate and leave home as others start kindergarten. Children become parents who become caretakers for their own parents.
I watch young parents with their offspring, and feel a little nostalgic for the days when I was the center of the universe for my own family. I know how quickly those years fly by, and want to tell young people to treasure these moments, because they will be gone too soon.
It is September, and summer will soon be wrapping up its sunny warmth in a crisp blanket of fallen leaves, swept aside in a seasonal dance. The crisp air will begin to bite at my nose when I let the dogs out in the morning, and I will need to throw on a jacket to go watch them from the deck. In the blink of an eye, the leaves will begin their final curtain call before they are swept aside by winter's arctic fingers blasting us from the north. I will miss the heat and the more casual atmosphere of summer, now my favorite season of the year.
But fall is a time of new opportunity, along with the smell of fresh crayons and new pink erasers and football and the sounds of the marching band practicing in the distance. It can be invigorating to have new challenges and new interests to pursue.
I have never been one to embrace change, and I would rather the dog days of summer last until the sun reveals it's summer wardrobe once again. I will accept the changing seasons, and the new opportunities they bring with them. But I will miss you, lazy days of summer. Come again soon!
As I got older, summer represented time to work extra hours, make more money, and try to get enough spending money for college, when I was chronically short of funds. (Much like now, but more tolerable then.)
In addition, I took summer school classes, trying hard to graduate in four years, despite changing my major several times. It was not lazy or relaxing in those years, it was stressful and busy, and fall came as a sort of relief valve from all the frenetic activity.
Grad school, which also came with marriage and motherhood, was busy all the time, as I learned to balance school, work and being a young mom. I no longer had the luxury of a minute to myself, and all my waking, (and half my sleeping) hours revolved around meeting the needs of other people. It was satisfying to see my little guy growing and learning and maturing so rapidly, but serene it wasn't.
When he was five, I became an at home mom, and learned about yet another kind of busy, especially once the next child put in her appearance. My home and family were my job, and I spent my time working hard to be sure that they had everything I could give them. We went to the zoo and the park and the pool. We enjoyed reading and playing games and playing outside.
I built a sandbox, and did elaborate landscaping. I cooked meals and planned parties and volunteered tirelessly at both church and school, trying the help make life better for everyone around me. It was rewarding work, and I enjoyed every second of it. But there are stresses even in volunteering, and being an at home mom can be lonely and boring, at times, too.
Eventually, the divorce hit me upside the head, and I had to make yet another change. Suddenly, I was the breadwinner, and it has been no easy task. As everyone who knows me has seen, I have struggled to find my way as a single mom. It is not easy to switch gears so rapidly, and the path has been strewn with more boulders than seems absolutely necessary. Time is something in short supply when you are trying to build up a sales-related business, and I haven't truly relaxed in years. There are a few lazy days thrown in, to be sure, but they are spent at the cost of a guilt trip that never seems to end.
Now that my children are both grown and out of the house, the days are back to just me, lazy or not at my whim. It's a new sort of alone, as my children are now doing the college juggle, trying to make money and still come home and see their friends. They are in and out, but they are independent, so I am now able to make my own plans and do my own thing in my own time, without regard for what other people are needing or wanting or doing. It's a new way of life, and I'm enjoying the solitude and peace once again.
Life is circular, I have learned, and eventually you meet yourself where you started. It's not exactly the same - I'm a lot older and a lot wiser, and there is no doubt that the years have taught me a lot. I have more responsibilities than I did when I was young, but I also have more freedom to do as I please, without regard for what anyone else wants.
Life is circular in a lot of ways, actually. People are born as others die. People graduate and leave home as others start kindergarten. Children become parents who become caretakers for their own parents.
I watch young parents with their offspring, and feel a little nostalgic for the days when I was the center of the universe for my own family. I know how quickly those years fly by, and want to tell young people to treasure these moments, because they will be gone too soon.
It is September, and summer will soon be wrapping up its sunny warmth in a crisp blanket of fallen leaves, swept aside in a seasonal dance. The crisp air will begin to bite at my nose when I let the dogs out in the morning, and I will need to throw on a jacket to go watch them from the deck. In the blink of an eye, the leaves will begin their final curtain call before they are swept aside by winter's arctic fingers blasting us from the north. I will miss the heat and the more casual atmosphere of summer, now my favorite season of the year.
But fall is a time of new opportunity, along with the smell of fresh crayons and new pink erasers and football and the sounds of the marching band practicing in the distance. It can be invigorating to have new challenges and new interests to pursue.
I have never been one to embrace change, and I would rather the dog days of summer last until the sun reveals it's summer wardrobe once again. I will accept the changing seasons, and the new opportunities they bring with them. But I will miss you, lazy days of summer. Come again soon!
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Seeing things in perspective...
According to Merriam-Webster, the word perspective has it’s origins in Medieval Latin’s perspectivum and the Middle English word perspectyf, both of which mean to see through or to see clearly. In past centuries, an optical glass contraption through which maps and prints were viewed was also called a perspective. The perspective glass also contained a mirror, which flipped the object being viewed in reverse from how it was printed. Thus, for the photo or map to be properly observed, it had to be inverted to the naked eye in order to be seen "in perspective."
In more modern linguistics, the word perspective has taken on additional nuance. When we say we want to see things in their proper perspective, we no longer mean only what we can see with our eyes. Today, we use that phrase to refer to the interrelationship between the parts of the whole within which a less tangible concept is viewed.
The ability to see things in relationship to the bigger picture, in perspective, is a skill which appears to be lacking in many people today, particularly among the electorate [I am using that term loosely, but let's not get sidetracked.] Perspective is a critical element in understanding our place in the world, whether as a country, or as individuals, because it allows us to step out of our own experience and see things from someone else’s vantage point. I lament the absence of the underlying respect which is to be found only when things are put into their proper place. Perspective enables us to see that another viewpoint may also have value, may even be right, even if different from our own.
I originally got to thinking about perspective this week as Hurricane Irene blew through the Bahamas and struck an ominous path towards the east coast of the United States. The media went wild as Irene targeted the Carolinas in it’s bullseye. The national weather forecasters relayed ever more frightening scenarios to a public still battered from images of New Orleans, Port-au-Prince, Fukushima, Tuscaloosa and Joplin. People emptied store shelves and gas stations as they boarded up, holed up or headed out to deal with the wrath of the unknown force bearing inexorably down upon them.
To the rest of the world, it must have appeared that the entire country was under siege from the impending weather event. All the major news sources focused on the doom they were predicting, scrolling headlines about preparedness and evacuation, warning over and over that time was running out. Even the president got into the act, calling it an historical event long before it touched a single U.S. shore. While a Category 3 Irene lashed its way through the Bahamas causing more than a billion dollars in damage, we barely noticed their travails as we were inundated with warnings about the disaster soon to befall our own citizens on the east coast.
Speaking for myself, it was all a bit much. A little perspective would have been useful.
The last few months have been filled with historical natural disaster events.
Tuscaloosa was laid bare, an open wound on the skin of the earth, from an F4 tornado whose 190 mph winds ripped along an 80 mile path through Alabama during a tornado outbreak in April that caused billions of dollars in damage and took the lives of over 300 people across several states.
Joplin, Missouri was nearly wiped off the map from a multi-vortex F5 tornado in May which packed wind speeds in excess of 200 mph, left 134 people dead and scattered debris more than 70 miles away.
The March 11 earthquake and resulting tsunami in Japan left millions homeless and more than 20,000 dead or missing, and caused a radiation release from their failed nuclear reactors more powerful than an atomic bomb.
Flooding along the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers this spring left millions of dollars of prime farmland ruined, billions of dollars in damage across numerous states, and hundreds of homes unsalvageable, the aftermath of record snowfalls to the north and a Corps of Engineers plan which didn’t anticipate that kind of runoff. The flooding continues to work it's way south months later, with estimates of the damage still coming in.
Record breaking snowfalls and rainfalls across the country this year have wreaked billions of dollars in damage to homes, businesses and infrastructure, much of which is still being repaired.
At the other extreme, the drought being experienced in some of the south central states has already taken a toll in the billions in lost farmland, crops, livestock and people's livelihood, and it is not over yet.
Cyclone Yazi,the Category 5 hurricane which smashed into the Queensland, Australia coast last March caused billions of dollars in damage to coastline, homes, and businesses.
I realize that for those in the storm’s path, it is a frightening, perhaps even terrifying, episode. I have been in more than one storm with 80 mph winds, and know how the howling can shatter fraying nerves. Tennis ball sized hail crashing against my house this spring just about put me over the edge, so I can appreciate how scary it is to be in the track of a destructive storm.
And I am grateful for early warnings which allowed people in harm’s way to remove themselves to safer locales, especially in North Carolina, which took the brunt of the storm. Their departure limited the risk to emergency personnel, [although there is always a stubborn dolt that is trying their best to self-destruct that will ultimately need saving, anyway.]
For the many people who have lost homes, belongings, businesses, infrastructure or tragically, lives in this storm, I understand this was the big one, and it has torn their lives apart. I am sorry for their troubles, and I hope the country is behind them as they start the long process of rebuilding their lives, just as it has been in every catastrophe. This was a major storm, of course, and it left another gash of destruction in it's journey up the coastline.
But in light of the massive disasters which have befallen helpless citizens without warning across the globe recently, pardon me for being underwhelmed by the hysteria which has accompanied this hurricane-lite event. In terms of the natural disasters that have befallen an unsuspecting populace, this is not even in the top five this year.
Some perspective would have been good, not to minimize the dangers of a powerful storm, but simply to keep things in their proper place in the public discourse. I particularly worry about the next hurricane. Will people refuse to take the warnings seriously? That is how you get a Katrina event – it is not only the nature of the storm that causes problems, but the nature of human beings to ignore that which is too familiar, as well.
This whole experience has caused me to consider the lack of perspective in our public discourse generally, extended well beyond this simple weather event. It is, I believe, lack of perspective, more than any other thing, which hogties us at every turn. Hyperbole is a poor substitute for facts and reason. Everything cannot be the biggest, the most, the worst. If we would save end time talk for things that are truly catastrophic, and take the exaggeration down a notch or ten, perhaps more people would pay attention, instead of tuning out. Today, people find their position and dig in their heels, so sure of their righteousness that there is no room for alternative experience. No perspective.
Selling health insurance, I get to see the light bulb go on for people several times a week, as the formerly group insured, now unemployed, get an education in what the market looks like for those who don’t have that option available to them. Nothing changes minds like personal experience, and some of the strongest advocates for changing the system are those who have been unexpectedly wounded by the lack of an affordable alternative once they, too, are unemployed. Perspective.
We can declare war on poverty, but unless we are willing to listen and understand the root causes of the cycle in which people find themselves, we will never solve the problem. We can just say no to drugs, but unless we are willing to learn from an addict, we cannot understand the drivers in the addiction which holds them in thrall even unto certain death. Perspective.
Winston Churchill gave, on several occasions, the epitome of the underdog speech, impassioned pleas to pull together as one for the betterment of all. His words are powerful, and genuine, because he believed in his cause. He had proper perspective on the situation, which enabled him, with succinct precision, in his speech on the Battle of Britain in WWII, to put all of history in its place with just a few powerful words,
"Two or three years are not a long time, even in our short, precarious lives. They are nothing in the history of the nation, and when we are doing the finest thing in the world, and have the honour to be the sole champion of the liberties of all Europe, we must not grudge these years or weary as we toil and struggle through them."
His perspective allowed Churchill to inspire and lead his countrymen to victory in a conflict which consumed the world and threatened not just the freedom but the very lives of millions of people across the globe. His understanding, that divided they would fall, but together, they could accomplish anything, was a perspective that led him to listen, to compromise, and to carefully chart a course which brought everyone forward together. He listened, he managed, he cajoled and pushed and pulled, in an effort to bring everyone to the same experience, so that together, they would walk into history as the victors in the epic conflict.
I think we are sadly lacking in perspective today. [We are short on true statesmen like Churchill, too, but that's probably a whole other blog.] There are many reasons for the position in which we find ourselves, none of them easily solved. We listen, but only in 15 second sound bites, instead of searching for the deeper answers which are harder to come by, and harder yet to act upon. We accuse those who are willing to change their minds of flip-flopping, rather than applauding how, with solid reasoning, sometimes you come to understand things in a new, more enlightened way. When did listening and analyzing problems, ultimately coming to a compromise, become an evil deed?
By sharing your candle flame with another, you double the light. Isn't that what we should be striving for? You achieve that with perspective.
Perspective is what happens when we walk that long, lonely mile in the shoes of another. When you feel the blisters from the unfamiliar soles building up on your feet, you will certainly see things in a different way. Just as those who have survived Katrina are not more noble than those who experienced Irene, neither are those who have escaped disaster more righteous than those for whom each corner turned is another smack into hardship.
I feel that we, as a nation, are standing at a very dangerous crossroad, at risk of slipping down the slope of extremism to become nothing more than an irrelevant footnote in history. The grand experiment of democracy cannot succeed without compromise and understanding, and we are in short supply of both these days.
Sir Winston Churchill, on November 9, 1954, spoke with perspective on the past and the future. Sir Winston was a leading character on the stage that is world history, and if he can find perspective in the midst of the tragedy and despair that surrounded him, we should be able to as well. His words inspire me and give me hope that we can overcome our current divisions and persevere to days of greater glory.
"We have surmounted all the perils and endured all the agonies of the past. We shall provide against and thus prevail over the dangers and problems of the future, withhold no sacrifice, grudge no toil, seek no sordid gain, fear no foe. All will be well. We have, I believe, within us the life-strength and guiding light by which the tormented world around us may find the harbour of safety, after a storm-beaten voyage."
In more modern linguistics, the word perspective has taken on additional nuance. When we say we want to see things in their proper perspective, we no longer mean only what we can see with our eyes. Today, we use that phrase to refer to the interrelationship between the parts of the whole within which a less tangible concept is viewed.
The ability to see things in relationship to the bigger picture, in perspective, is a skill which appears to be lacking in many people today, particularly among the electorate [I am using that term loosely, but let's not get sidetracked.] Perspective is a critical element in understanding our place in the world, whether as a country, or as individuals, because it allows us to step out of our own experience and see things from someone else’s vantage point. I lament the absence of the underlying respect which is to be found only when things are put into their proper place. Perspective enables us to see that another viewpoint may also have value, may even be right, even if different from our own.
I originally got to thinking about perspective this week as Hurricane Irene blew through the Bahamas and struck an ominous path towards the east coast of the United States. The media went wild as Irene targeted the Carolinas in it’s bullseye. The national weather forecasters relayed ever more frightening scenarios to a public still battered from images of New Orleans, Port-au-Prince, Fukushima, Tuscaloosa and Joplin. People emptied store shelves and gas stations as they boarded up, holed up or headed out to deal with the wrath of the unknown force bearing inexorably down upon them.
To the rest of the world, it must have appeared that the entire country was under siege from the impending weather event. All the major news sources focused on the doom they were predicting, scrolling headlines about preparedness and evacuation, warning over and over that time was running out. Even the president got into the act, calling it an historical event long before it touched a single U.S. shore. While a Category 3 Irene lashed its way through the Bahamas causing more than a billion dollars in damage, we barely noticed their travails as we were inundated with warnings about the disaster soon to befall our own citizens on the east coast.
Speaking for myself, it was all a bit much. A little perspective would have been useful.
The last few months have been filled with historical natural disaster events.
I realize that for those in the storm’s path, it is a frightening, perhaps even terrifying, episode. I have been in more than one storm with 80 mph winds, and know how the howling can shatter fraying nerves. Tennis ball sized hail crashing against my house this spring just about put me over the edge, so I can appreciate how scary it is to be in the track of a destructive storm.
And I am grateful for early warnings which allowed people in harm’s way to remove themselves to safer locales, especially in North Carolina, which took the brunt of the storm. Their departure limited the risk to emergency personnel, [although there is always a stubborn dolt that is trying their best to self-destruct that will ultimately need saving, anyway.]
For the many people who have lost homes, belongings, businesses, infrastructure or tragically, lives in this storm, I understand this was the big one, and it has torn their lives apart. I am sorry for their troubles, and I hope the country is behind them as they start the long process of rebuilding their lives, just as it has been in every catastrophe. This was a major storm, of course, and it left another gash of destruction in it's journey up the coastline.
But in light of the massive disasters which have befallen helpless citizens without warning across the globe recently, pardon me for being underwhelmed by the hysteria which has accompanied this hurricane-lite event. In terms of the natural disasters that have befallen an unsuspecting populace, this is not even in the top five this year.
Some perspective would have been good, not to minimize the dangers of a powerful storm, but simply to keep things in their proper place in the public discourse. I particularly worry about the next hurricane. Will people refuse to take the warnings seriously? That is how you get a Katrina event – it is not only the nature of the storm that causes problems, but the nature of human beings to ignore that which is too familiar, as well.
This whole experience has caused me to consider the lack of perspective in our public discourse generally, extended well beyond this simple weather event. It is, I believe, lack of perspective, more than any other thing, which hogties us at every turn. Hyperbole is a poor substitute for facts and reason. Everything cannot be the biggest, the most, the worst. If we would save end time talk for things that are truly catastrophic, and take the exaggeration down a notch or ten, perhaps more people would pay attention, instead of tuning out. Today, people find their position and dig in their heels, so sure of their righteousness that there is no room for alternative experience. No perspective.
Selling health insurance, I get to see the light bulb go on for people several times a week, as the formerly group insured, now unemployed, get an education in what the market looks like for those who don’t have that option available to them. Nothing changes minds like personal experience, and some of the strongest advocates for changing the system are those who have been unexpectedly wounded by the lack of an affordable alternative once they, too, are unemployed. Perspective.
We can declare war on poverty, but unless we are willing to listen and understand the root causes of the cycle in which people find themselves, we will never solve the problem. We can just say no to drugs, but unless we are willing to learn from an addict, we cannot understand the drivers in the addiction which holds them in thrall even unto certain death. Perspective.
Winston Churchill gave, on several occasions, the epitome of the underdog speech, impassioned pleas to pull together as one for the betterment of all. His words are powerful, and genuine, because he believed in his cause. He had proper perspective on the situation, which enabled him, with succinct precision, in his speech on the Battle of Britain in WWII, to put all of history in its place with just a few powerful words,
"Two or three years are not a long time, even in our short, precarious lives. They are nothing in the history of the nation, and when we are doing the finest thing in the world, and have the honour to be the sole champion of the liberties of all Europe, we must not grudge these years or weary as we toil and struggle through them."
His perspective allowed Churchill to inspire and lead his countrymen to victory in a conflict which consumed the world and threatened not just the freedom but the very lives of millions of people across the globe. His understanding, that divided they would fall, but together, they could accomplish anything, was a perspective that led him to listen, to compromise, and to carefully chart a course which brought everyone forward together. He listened, he managed, he cajoled and pushed and pulled, in an effort to bring everyone to the same experience, so that together, they would walk into history as the victors in the epic conflict.
I think we are sadly lacking in perspective today. [We are short on true statesmen like Churchill, too, but that's probably a whole other blog.] There are many reasons for the position in which we find ourselves, none of them easily solved. We listen, but only in 15 second sound bites, instead of searching for the deeper answers which are harder to come by, and harder yet to act upon. We accuse those who are willing to change their minds of flip-flopping, rather than applauding how, with solid reasoning, sometimes you come to understand things in a new, more enlightened way. When did listening and analyzing problems, ultimately coming to a compromise, become an evil deed?
By sharing your candle flame with another, you double the light. Isn't that what we should be striving for? You achieve that with perspective.
Perspective is what happens when we walk that long, lonely mile in the shoes of another. When you feel the blisters from the unfamiliar soles building up on your feet, you will certainly see things in a different way. Just as those who have survived Katrina are not more noble than those who experienced Irene, neither are those who have escaped disaster more righteous than those for whom each corner turned is another smack into hardship.
I feel that we, as a nation, are standing at a very dangerous crossroad, at risk of slipping down the slope of extremism to become nothing more than an irrelevant footnote in history. The grand experiment of democracy cannot succeed without compromise and understanding, and we are in short supply of both these days.
Sir Winston Churchill, on November 9, 1954, spoke with perspective on the past and the future. Sir Winston was a leading character on the stage that is world history, and if he can find perspective in the midst of the tragedy and despair that surrounded him, we should be able to as well. His words inspire me and give me hope that we can overcome our current divisions and persevere to days of greater glory.
"We have surmounted all the perils and endured all the agonies of the past. We shall provide against and thus prevail over the dangers and problems of the future, withhold no sacrifice, grudge no toil, seek no sordid gain, fear no foe. All will be well. We have, I believe, within us the life-strength and guiding light by which the tormented world around us may find the harbour of safety, after a storm-beaten voyage."
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