Tuesday, December 31, 2013

The Brainless... Natural or Created?

The older I get the more disillusioned I become with the ‘people’ of the U.S. I remember being upset when I started working in advertising and was told that in order to write ‘good copy’ one must understand that the average U.S. citizen had the mind of a 13 year old child. In other words, I must dumb down my writing so that this vast number of people could understand it. “Never write a sentence over ten words, and break those up in some way if you can,” was the way it was put. Now I find that the ‘average’ seems to be even ‘younger’ in the mind... or shall we call a spade a spade and say even more stupid.

Look at what we have in Congress these days. Ted Cruz, mentioning "that great speaker, Ashton Kutcher"; Paul Ryan, a man who has never held a ‘real job’ being called ‘the intellectual of the Tea Party (a rather damning indictment of the rest of that group);’ thousands of people signing petitions to keep ‘Duck Dynasty’ on the air. Or even horror of horrors, the fact that ‘Duck Dynasty’ is one of the most popular programs on TV. My parents and all of my really intellectual ancestors are spinning in their graves.

I spent my childhood first being read to by my parents (I recall Spenser’s ‘The Faerie Queene’ as an early one), then reading my way through the family and public library, including two sets of encyclopedias. (I wasn’t alone, my sisters and I read constantly. The library of the moment was usually full of others; where did they all go?) My older sister graduated from college too young to get a job, so returned to get a Master’s. She went on to become one of the first women Captains in the Army during WWII, then after having seven children went on to a logical career in education.

I began my adult studies in art, quit after a couple of years of work under an artist I hated, became a meteorologist with the U.S. Weather Bureau, then returned to university to get a degree in English, went into copywriting and now write fiction, essays, non-fiction and poetry. My younger sister simply married well. Unfortunately I didn’t and he got the money. Nevertheless, I kept my mind and am very saddened to find that the rest of the country (well most of it) has not managed that. In all my long years of life the IQ of this country seems to have slipped almost to extinction. The TV alone has less and less worth watching. ‘Reality TV’ seems to have taken over with its cast of less and less intelligence daily, winding up with the seeming morons of Honey Boo Boo and Duck Dynasty, worshiped by the TV mob. Do they hear, do they see, do they think? I rather think not.

Having spent the final day of this past year watching the world’s celebration of New Year’s Eve, I wonder where the world is heading. I guess it’s not just our country that has given up basic intelligence. Each large city seems to be competing to see who could spend the most money blowing up millions of dollars worth of fireworks to ‘celebrate’ leaving an old year behind and welcoming in an even more ignorant one. After all, it is far easier to take the ‘education’ money out of the budget and put it into fireworks and other trash to entertain the morons. On a stage in Times Square the older morons sang what passes for music to the younger ones.

I am hoping ‘the common core’ might help return education rather than the useless ‘testing’ of the Bush “All children left behind” era, but I wonder if we can catch up with the rest of the world or will they simply follow us into the pit of mediocre schools? I do bemoan the lack of intelligent conversation in the new ‘all digital tablets’ schools, ‘charter’ schools and others, and hope that some lectures with question and answer periods remain, plus a lot of discussion in the classrooms of younger children.

As a child who moved often, I understand the difficulties of children who go from school to school, missing classes, and would therefore be better off with a common core education. Having known a great number of teachers in my lifetime, some who were bright and wonderful, some who should never have been in a classroom, I hope that an overhaul of ‘teacher’s colleges’ can help the next wave of students. Finally, I hope and pray that good teachers are not only paid better to teach well, but are at last considered superior citizens of our country.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Christmas 2013

It is Christmas Eve, almost Christmas Day, which I used to celebrate with my family, friends, neighbors... and the many people Jessie always invited to our tree trimming parties. For we always waited until Christmas Eve to drag the tree in from the front porch, generally chop off the top, as Daddy always bought the tallest one he could find. In Pittsburgh, the place I remember best as a happy Yuletide place, I sat on a chair, directing Bill Rodd, or P.B. Burgwin on how put put the lights on the tree, as that seemed to be a ‘guy’s job’ in our household. They always started at the bottom, so that there was no way they could plug in the lights... so I remember my incessant “Start at the top... no, start at the top.” They never seemed to get it. Downstairs, in the kitchen and dining room, I helped make Jessie’s “London Fog’... a lovely ice cream drink in a punch bowl that could knock you out faster than anything as it was half brandy. That and her bourbon balls left most guests staggering. I just mixed drinks for others... didn’t start drinking until much later. But I have always remembered Daddy’s and Bill’s advice... drink only the BEST bourbon... put it in a very tall glass and fill the glass with ice and water... then drink it slowly all evening. Actually after I started drinking, I could drink any one under the table, as I had a tolerance for liquor like a man’s (probably from having had so many men friends in the ad game, which is where I learned to drink).

Ah, but it is Christmas... and we have an odd year and time of news. Edward Snowden, who is a traitor/hero depending on your viewpoint. no regrets from him, though... he’s spending his Christmas in Russia. So let him freeze. Then there’s the new pope... oh, what joy to see one who doesn’t ride around in fancy dress and fancy red shoes, but seems to really feel for the poor, homeless and hungry... a sweet, real man. Then, on the other hand the continuing horror in South Sudan, Somalia and Syria. What can we do... no more war, we need to perhaps provide any help we can, but NO MORE of our children can be sacrificed. We must teach our children NO GUNS, no fighting, no bullying. I remember Mark’s wonderful ‘pod’ training in grade school, when each morning the children went to their ‘family group’... consisting of children from ages five (his age) to age 8 or even 9, for each teacher started the day with a ‘family.’ His early years were in an ideal set-up. When he was first grade ‘age,’ if one asked what ‘grade’ he was in, he merely said, “I’m in Mrs. Wedeman’s family group.” Then they met in ‘peer groups’ for reading, math, etc. Mark taught himself to read at about 3, so he was at the ‘3rd grade level’ table in first grade... but at the beginning math table, as I didn’t teach him anything about math (you can guess why). So, he had friends of all ages... and no one bullied, as they had big and little ‘brothers and sisters’ who watched out for them always. A great way to teach... ruined by parents who objected to their dumb kids going to class with '‘them little kids... why ain’t they with kids their age?” Alas, there are always parents who work at spoiling good education. They are often the ones with the guns in their houses, also.

So Merry Christmas all... and a Happy New Year... one I hope will be better not only for all of you, but also for all of the countries of this sad little world. I shall now go and watch the news and hope it is better... even a tiny bit would help. Unfortunately this year has taken one of the greatest of all from us, Nelson Mandela... but I shall try in my own life to remember him daily and hope it makes a difference in my attitude toward all people. If only the Sudanese, Somalia and Syrians could work in his manner... or I suppose I should say, if only all the people in the world could be as forgiving as he.

And on a note of humor... the UPS ofices here are full of people complaining that their packages  haven’t been delivered. Wow... did they somehow think ordering late might have something to do with it. I’d never yell at Damien for not delivering something to me. He’s too cute to yell at anyway. And we have people complaining that they can’t burn fires in their fireplaces as we are having a ‘spare-the-air-day’ for Christmas (I guess too many people were doing so earlier. Why they want a fire I do not know, as it is in the 60s and 70s daily... sunshine flooding in here daily. Why do I live in San Francisco? Guess! Well, Joe Gigante told me I’d be dead in a couple of years if I didn’t get out of Chicago and find a good mild climate where I didn’t suffer from cold and asthma all winter, and heat, sweat and allergies every summer. None of that here... but I miss my family and friends over the holidays... so remember me... and here are a few kisses for all... * * * * * * * *

Saturday, December 7, 2013

What I Finally Learned Today

I guess it has taken me a long, long time to learn the most basic thing in life. Today, I think I finally learned the secret of life. I should have know it for a lot of reasons... some of which I may write of later in this post, if I can manage. But for now I shall just try to explain what I learned and how I learned it. Today I watched an hour long program on the life of Nelson Mandela... a man who took not quite as long as it took me to learn. He somehow learned while in a terrible prison... and I just learned from him... the secret of a happy life is quite simple... to be a good person and love everyone. You have only to look at the sweet, smiling face of Mandela to realize he turned an angry life around and really, honestly began to love all people, be they friend, acquaintance, old enemy, black, white, or anything in between. As he came back amongst people he daily seemed to become sweeter, kinder and more forgiving of everything that had ever been done to him or his country. He taught his coountry the great power of forgiveness to all for every bad thing ever done or even felt toward another person, with no punishment if a person confessed to a missdeed... and then, the great power of a love for all other human beings. What power that man had... for for no one else have I ever heard it said, as I did today, from a young Indian man who said, "We sing and dance today, for we must not have tears that he is gone, but joy that he was here." Of who else could this simple thing be said? No one of whom I can think. He forced a country to have a time of reconciliation... not by torture or fights or battles or laws, but by the confession of ill deeds, the forgiveness for those deeds with no jail terms, no punishment, but merely forgiveness and hopefully an end to the hatred that caused them. For such a man, who had been hated and jailed and mistreated for so long to feel this way is not only almost unbelievable it is about as saintly as one can get. Nelson Mandela was that saint, and today, as his countrymen and women gather and sing of, by and for him, I finally got it through my head that he was right. If I want to be happy and live a good life in the tiny time I have left, I had better lose all of my bad feelings I ever had for anyone else and join Mandela in loving all of humanity. 

Now about what I said in the beginning of this piece. The reason I 'should' have learned this long years ago. I had a wonderful older sister, whom we used to kid about and call "The Saint" because she was so good, really good. I only saw her yell at her kids once in my life... and if they had been mine, I might have either gone crazy or beaten them. As it was, just going into their bedroom one night when they were yelling and fighting, slapping all the beds with a pair of pajamas and saying, "if I hear ONE MORE SOUND out of any of you I WILL BE BACK!" shocked them so much that we didn't hear one more sound for the rest of the night. But I didn't learn to be a saint like my sister, and I am just beginning to learn to forgive the world. What a lovely feeling that is... particularly as I live in San Francisco, where we live close and right on top of one another, with people from all over the world, all crowded in together. I guess that helps to teach one to love others, and I guess it has helped me. So I suppose one of the easiest things to do is to imagine, when approached by anyone one could feel a dislike for, the beautiful, smiling face of Nelson Mandela and smile back with a real feeling of love and happiness. One might also extend a helping hand if needed, or at least a kind word, and a real feeling of love for each person.