Types

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December 19, 2022- The sweet eyes of the dark-haired woman, standing just behind and to the left of the male soloist, seemed to rivet the videographer, especially at the end of the recording of “My Gallant Hero”, sung in Gaelic by the Trinity College Choir. Perhaps the camera operator was a parent, sibling, significant other or just an admirer from afar, and though there was no dearth of pleasant, attractive faces and voices-of both genders- in the troupe, hers just seemed to capture attention.

There was a time when I was particularly drawn to girls, and then women, with dark hair and brown eyes, especially to those with Celtic features. My “type” , of course, expanded, and I spent a devoted, loving and fulfilling 30 years with Penny, whose features were dark blonde-to- reddish brown hair and sparkling blue eyes. Since her passing, my women friends have not been determined by physical type-but by character and the strength of our mutual interests. Then, again, romance has not been front and center, in my reality.

It was thus with curiosity that I noted the whole (mostly) online kerfuffle about an action-film star and his “much younger” current girlfriend. Someone noted that the man has a”type”-which amuses me. Once a person reaches adulthood, what does it matter that there is a decade or two between him/her and significant other? Of course, there are caveats: 1. It is awkward for an S/O to be in the same age range as the person’s adult child, or younger. This brings up-“Does the younger party have Daddy or Mommy issues?”; “Does the older party have secret pedophilia issues, or is he/she just immature?” 2. There are legitimate longevity concerns, which is why I am personally opposed to the whole arranged-marriage thing, when a man in his forties, or older, is betrothed to a young woman in her late teens or twenties, or to a girl, for that matter. A human being, regardless of age or gender, is put on Earth to pursue his/her own dreams and life plan, NOT those of another. One can argue that there are young women who legitimately choose to wed much older men, to the chagrin of the wider society-whose business it definitely is not. I have my suspicions about some prominent older men who have taken on young women as mates-yet those marriages seem to have endured quite well. I have a young friend who is married to a man her father’s age, and that bond has proven durable. So, too, has the marriage of one of my female relatives to a much younger man. The proof is in the pudding. 3. It is never acceptable, though, for an adult to marry, or be romantically involved with, a child.

Here, then, for the enjoyment of those who share my own fascination with Celtic music, is the above-mentioned video.

Tantrums

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December 18, 2022- There seems to be an increase in loud, public expressions of anger and fevered verbal attacks on people of various political and social stripes, by prominent figures who feel that their way of life is being targeted across the board. These attacks, much like the tantrums staged by toddlers who are denied a cookie before dinner or a toy during a shopping trip, do nothing to push their case forward, usually portending the opposite.

The errant plaintiff either got everything he/she demanded, as a child or was so tellingly ignored, for so long, that not getting what is expected is like a torrent of nails on a coffin. The losses will just continue piling up-even if an ever-shrinking coterie of admirers or sycophants tells the out of touch wailer that a return to power and glory is imminent.

There is, simply put, no turning back the wheel of time to a bygone era. We may find ourselves in a rut that is similar to that of the past, but it is a temporary state of affairs. The power to keep an outmoded system of power and control operating, especially one that presumes primacy of a favoured few, has been lost. All the machinations in the world will do little more than inconvenience a certain number of people, for a relatively short time.

The whole of the human race is moving forward-towards a more inclusive, equitable future. This is borne out by no less than the bizarre spectacle of an African-American, a Hispanic and an East European, who himself may well have Jewish ancestry, leading the cause of “white supremacy”. This is all the very illusion that these men’s supporters are claiming is being foisted upon an unsuspecting multitude. The perpetrators have claimed victimhood- and readily point to real and contrived slights, ,as proof, deftly distracting from what their own hands have wrought.

The time is growing short, and the hearts of the awakened (not “woke”) are no longer fooled. The strings of the puppetmasters are being snipped, one by one. Tantrums no longer discomfit the onlookers.

Thought Experiments

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December 17, 2022- I spent part of this afternoon, prior to taking in a Latino rock band’s performance at the Raven, listening to several jazz arrangements of classical pieces. These included renditions of ceremonial standards: The Bridal Chorus, Wedding March, and Pomp & Circumstance-which I regarded as an elegant drudge at my own graduation from High School, some fifty four years ago. Most such jazz arrangements are thought experiments; some are done with the knowledge and encouragement of the original composers-Maurice Ravel and Aaron Copland certainly smiled at the best of up-tempo versions of their work. Petr Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Bach would likely have felt the same.

The wedding-related pieces have been worked into certain nuptials, though I haven’t heard of any usage of Tom Kubis’ rousing version of “Pomp” in a graduation exercise. Methinks the kids would love it, but not so, much more traditionalist adults. Nonetheless, thought experiments, so long as they don’t lead to harm of anyone, or to disparagement of the tried and true, are good for individual and collective consciousness. This extends to most alternative adaptations of traditional music-though a few loud, up-tempo versions of children’s lullabies have fallen flat, mainly because of the decibel level of the performances (not good for tender ears) and the fact that the purpose of a lullaby is usually to get a child to calm down and go to sleep.

This brings me to “thought experiments” that have been broached recently, by prominent personages, and pertaining to everything from the United States Constitution to how people should live their lives when in private to the composition of life in the Universe (Some have posited that there are planets inhabited by Cat People and Horse People). Such exercises, besides being rather numbing to the consciousness of those entertaining such thoughts, and disruptive to the national fabric, are flying in the face of the forward march of history. They are allowed by said Constitution, but like the most raucous of loud and swinging lullabies, are best kept to the privacy of their fashioners.

Jazz interpretations of Classical Music, reasoned political discourse-regardless of viewpoint and careful research into any aspect of life in the Universe add luster to our social condition-at least from where I stand. Those thought experiments that solely reflect the egotism of their adherents serve no redeeming purpose.

Hiding the Obvious

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December 5, 2022- The winsome, but giddy, girl asked why I was walking away from her and her friend: “Don’t you like us?” I reassured her that they were very much liked, but I didn’t want to be seen as hovering. That satisfied her, though they sought attention in other ways, for the rest of the class, including by trying to hide a cell phone-which she insisted was not there, until it fell on the floor.

Eleven and twelve year olds can be expected to try and hide the obvious. Being recognized, in the midst of the change from child to adolescent, is a comfort-even when everyone concerned knows that the means to that recognition is ludicrous. After I played along, for a bit, with the cell phone ruse, they got more serious and asked for help with an assignment-related problem.

Special needs children, on the other hand, especially those who are in the “Severe and profound” category, are unable to hide anything-especially their non-verbal cues. The only way many can communicate is with their bodies-stiffening up, going dead weight, yelling, trying to run away. They are being very obvious about saying that something in the situation upsets or frightens them. Misreading their cues, or responding with an old-school “Just give him a good old-fashioned swat”, will do one thing: It will widen the chasm even further. It is instructive that a new teacher has relieved an older teacher, who believes in corporal punishment, of her duties-after the older woman lashed out at a special needs child. The child has challenges, but has not, historically, learned from physical or loud verbal chastisement.

The obvious, with me, is that I love others’ children, as if they were my own. So is it best to give them constant, and consistent, guidance and encouragement- placing limits and channeling behaviour, as much as possible. That can best be accomplished by not clinging to past violent methods-but following a much more rigourous path of constant teaching and modeling respectful behaviour-and expecting it be returned in kind.

I choose not to hide the obvious.

Peace Is Not A Seesaw

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December 2, 2022- A man with whom I had a fairly minor disagreement, some weeks ago, was in attendance at a gathering this evening. He once more offered his apologies for that incident, and promised it would not happen again. I do not hold grudges, and called him Brother, as indeed all men are to one another, could we but see clearly.

One of the building staff then loudly called my name and demanded attention, on a separate matter, which I quietly gave him. He continued to be loud and boisterous, until I left the area and went to join my dining companions. His intent was to prove that the other individual and I were NOT on good terms, for whatever advantage that might have given him. I noticed that the apologetic one also moved to a different seat, away from the staff member.

Peace between individuals is not a zero sum game, in which “if you like him (her), you can’t be MY friend.” It is not a seesaw, with a dominant partner keeping the other up in the air (or in the dark). The angry person from this evening will eventually come back around and show courtesy, but I will not live or die waiting for that to happen.

I have experienced the loss of a couple of friends, who are outwardly loving and congenial, but inwardly volatile and rebuffing of many efforts at friendship. Their worlds are outwardly all-embracing, but inwardly exclusive, almost to the point of self-asphyxiation. I cannot do much, other than send out positive energy, in the hopes that they will gradually both love themselves more and see that some of us value them as souls and as people.

Peace is a level field, not a seesaw.

Some Shooting Stars Miss Their Mark

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November 30, 2022- I was struck by the number of “Giving Tuesday” e-mails which returned today, saying they had fallen short of their goals; struck, but not surprised, by the news. While money is like water, and the amount in toto doesn’t change, the form in which it exists changes constantly. Snapping one’s fingers or thrusting out one’s hand does little, or nothing, to increase flow, when the supply in liquid form happens to be a trickle. I was the recipient of no fewer than 800 e-mails, over the course of Thanksgiving weekend. I gave what I consider to be a reasonable amount, during that period, and will continue, throughout the holiday season, to offer what I consider a reasonable amount.

There is another aspect to this: The very real consequence of constant bombardment, even by the most deserving of causes, is ennui; disinterest, the passing into White Noise of the message being trumpeted. At worst, it can even trigger opposition to the cause. None of these are what I want to see happen to groups like Sandy Hook Promise, Stand With Parkland, Mercy Corps/Haiti, Lady Freethinker, and World Central Kitchen. There is enough nefarious thought in the world, without bringing it to the fore.

I favour an appeal for volunteers as much, if not more than, the call for funds-as much as the mantra, “Money is our life blood”, or the cloying “Money pays the bills” may stoke the intellect. Human energy is equally beneficial, and the more local that energy, the better.

Shooting stars that aim to intensely at one target may well miss their mark. Sometimes,less is more.

Thunderbird

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November 20, 2022- As I sat with two young siblings, in a friend’s apartment, they began drawing and then painting, images on cloth canvas squares. The kids did marvelous depictions of Pokemon characters and yin/yang symbols. My friend asked if I wanted to do a canvas of my own, which sounded like fun. I did a free-style depiction of a prehistoric bird, using a few colours: Red torso, black beak and legs, yellow tuft and green head. I would be surprised if any actual bird looked like that, but it was a nice, light activity.

It did get me thinking about the thunderbird, a common mythological creature of North America, ascribed by Algonquian-speaking peoples in the Pacific Northwest, eastern Canada, the northeast United States and the Great Lakes region, with thunderous wing-flapping and the ability to hurl lightning at giant serpents and other underwater creatures. It was said that thunderbirds ruled the land and sky, whilst serpents and underwater panthers shared the underworld. I heard about thunderbirds, growing up, and while they remain fanciful, the colour scheme has a polyglot, rainbow quality (Northwest) or has blue-black feathers.

The mythological nature of the beast, in turn, reminded me of the superhuman powers that we sometimes ascribe to actual creatures-even to the microbial level. I have fought a hard, but somewhat manageable, cold, over the past four days. It is at the point now, where it is subsiding and there is only a smidgen of mucous, itself clear. This is what I refer to as change-of-seasonitis, and it has usually showed up, around late October. My ailment has none of the symptoms attributed to COVID-19, and does remind me, pure and simple , of other bad colds I’ve had this time of year. The thunder is subsiding now,thankfully, and with a good rest and hydration, I will be fine for Tuesday’s flight.

Perhaps That’s Why….

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November 12, 2022- “What we’ve got here is failure to communicate….”-Strother Martin, as Captain, in “Cool Hand Luke”.

I was raised to be clear in my communication with others, to not be ambiguous. As long as I have been faithful to that childhood teaching, things have gone quite well. I have, in all honesty, only been deeply, viscerally hated by someone, three times in my life. All three came from lapses of communication-either failure to listen, from stubbornness despite getting the message or from not being direct in my messaging.

I thought of this, while having lunch at a local diner, and hearing a familiar litany of complaints about our state’s leadership. It occurs to me that, while the goal of many is to increase inclusivity in the life of the community, the process is missing its target-either because the reformers are still playing the same zero sum game that got us into trouble in the first place or because they have something to hide. I am not much for conspiracy theories, so my money is on the former.

The zero sum gambit, in this case, is that conservatives have to give up something so that the historically marginalized, the cast-offs, can get what’s theirs. Zero sum games, whether played by the Right or by the Left, generate push back from those left out.

What if there is actually enough to go around? What if the problem is one of distribution, and not one of supply? The answers to these questions do not fall on the descendants of the enslaved, the small farmers, the overseers or the middle class townspeople. They do not fall to the First Nations people who were driven before the homesteaders, nor to the homesteaders themselves. They do not fall to the immigrants and their descendants. They fall instead to those who devised the system based on zero sum philosophy. Was their goal, is their goal still, to build a society that will primarily benefit the few? There are those who will freely admit that is the case, while chortling at how good their lot in life is, as a result. There are still others who nervously, even heatedly, deny any ill intent. Yet, those who are hearing them are not fooled. Some feel powerless; others feel a need to lash out and attack-even physically. Yet, there are those of us who see through all of it and know who the wire pullers are.

What we have here is failure to honestly communicate. The time when that tactic stops working is close at hand. People across the spectrum are learning to speak with one another, civilly and honestly. They are comparing notes and building plans that will benefit one and all, not just a few.

Perhaps that’s why we can trust in an optimistic view.

Not Even….

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November 2, 2022- Perception is 9/10 of reality.

The young woman stood resolutely in front of me, demanding to now why I was focusing my attention on her small group of friends. It was simple: They were not working as expected, and had no intention of doing so. A flood of “whatabout___ and_____” was offered as a rebuttal to my reminders to get the work done. Those groups had completed their assignments, and thus earned her scorn. Being found wrong is a hard thing at any age, but particularly at 15 or 16.

Nonetheless, there is much to respect and admire about Leah (not her real name). Her work habits of this morning aside, she has more integrity in her thumbnail than a good many adults I know. I will also never discourage forthrightness and speaking truth to power. I am sure that she regarded my watching them as a form of stalking, a suspicion borne of God knows what unwanted attention, from whom.

This was one of those occasions where I stepped outside of myself-seeing a mistake in approach to a management problem and drawing insight on how I might have done things differently. A skipped assignment can always be made up. It was explained to me later, by an administrator, that Leah was having a hard time of late. As mentioned earlier, there is always a back story.

This is all a bit ironic, as for 43 of my 45 years in education, my focus has always been the well-being of the child. (The first two years were spent in a system where teachers were feeling their way out of the Dark Ages, and my track record was not all that wonderful. Remorse and atonement are wondrous things.)

As it happened, later on today, a case of verbal harassment of another student was handled swiftly-and the miscreant ended up apologizing to his target-and to the class. I am favourably impressed by the administrators at that school.

As for Leah, and any student-especially a girl or young woman-the thought of me looking upon her with lascivious eyes- ummm, not even! Perception is 9/10 of reality, however-so, it’s wise to mind the perception.

Chill, but Not Oblivious

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October 29, 2022, Phoenix- The little girl was so excited to see her Daddy, waiting by the car, that she saw nothing else. Her older sister saw me and the Sportage, rolling along at 5 mph, and threw her arms around her, as I was stepping on the brakes. I let them cross, of course, and Daddy had a talk with his angel. Life will go on.

There were a few others, as I drove to my motel room, on the surface streets that increasingly harbour disconnected or distracted people, both pedestrians and drivers. The motel parking lot had its share of both, as well. Let it not be said that one cannot be his siblings’ keeper. On many occasions, all we have is one another-even if we never see one another again.

The day was intense, as several of us considered the matter of the Baha’i Funds. Contribution, of course, is limited to enrolled Baha’is, and the amounts given are voluntary-no hustle and no pressure. The Spirit is what must move us. We are mainly here at this conference to discuss better ways of educating our communities about the spiritual basis of the Funds. Money is a tool, sure, but it is the attitude one has towards its use that matters most. Again, no hustle and no pressure.

That being done for the day, by 7:15, I headed over to some friends’ house, in central Phoenix, and took in their rejuvenated Halloween gathering, the first they’ve had since 2019. It was a masterwork of decorations and refreshments-with about five “funhouse”style outbuildings and a safely enclosed trampoline for the kids. I stayed for about ninety minutes, then with a view towards tomorrow’s second half of the conference, I quietly left. With over a hundred people at the gathering, it was an easy exit. Driving out, I encountered “Monsters on Bicycles”, a late-evening parade of teenagers riding their bikes in an escorted formation, for which traffic briefly stopped.

This is a nice time of year to be in Phoenix and Scottsdale, with the high temperature just shy of 80. Still and all, one must be on one’s toes. Lives are at stake, otherwise.