When Apple Rules the World

Come on, Apple, let’s get real.

You know, I just don’t get it. I don’t like Apple. Not the fruit, the company. It’s not that I don’t like their products. No, for the most part, the products are very good, well designed, and work very well. Although I don’t use many Apple products, I’ll believe the people who say how great they are. Well, to an extent. I use iTunes, and while I used to love it, not any more. I could go through all the reasons why it annoys me, but this blog isn’t that long.

Apple can really do no wrong, at least in the eyes of people who write about these kinds of things. Just recently  the new MacBook Pros came out. PC Magazine website titled their review “Oooh, nice. MacBook Pros.”  OK, they might really be that good. But the 17” version starts at $2500! I can buy 3 or 4 really good Dell laptops for that price. At such a premium, they better be “Oooh nice.”

Or how about this one: One reviewer said he heard the the new MacBook Airs might “actually come out in black.” He was all excited about it. Really? Black? I mean that’s nice, but I don’t think it’s something to get excited about. Unless of course, it’s from Apple, apparently.

And then I saw this headline: “iPhone 5 could launch in October, not September, tension now unbearable.”  I thought they were joking. But no, apparently it’s really unbearable...

Maybe, just maybe, these people are just a tad overboard about this stuff?

Honestly, they make great stuff. But come on. One of my friends says she loves “i-anything.” Guess it doesn't matter what it is, if Apple makes it, it’s great. Or another friend wants an iPhone. She’s never seen one, she doesn't know anybody who has one, but somehow she wants it. “Because it’s cool.” Her Blackberry is soooo yesterday.

But apparently designing good products isn't enough for Apple. Now, they’re trying to sue everyone in sight. For “patent violations.” Did you know, for instance, that Apple owns the color “white?” Well they think they do. Samsung is releasing a phone that’s white, and Apple has sought an injunction, saying that “White is OUR color.” Really? The sad thing is that some court will probably side with them.

Or how about “Appstore?” Yeah, they own that word too. Seems a little generic to me, but hey, I’m not a lawyer.

They actually have dozens of these law suits going on at once. Come on, Apple, you make good stuff. Rely on that.

But the biggest reason I don’t like Apple is because the company is dangerous. Really. In the world of Steve Jobs, the Apple CEO,  Apple doesn't only make the hardware, they make the software as well. And they control the distribution of it. In his view, if you're using an iPhone or iPad, you should buy the software from them. Odd, because I have a Toshiba laptop, and I can buy stuff online from anyone I want. But that's not how Apple sees it. If Apple would come to dominate the market, Steve Jobs would have final say on what hardware is made, and what software you can buy. Really. If he doesn't like it, it doesn't go into his “AppStore.” Yeah, that’s real market freedom for you. Not my idea of how the tech world should work.

Go ahead and buy their stuff. You’ll think it’s cool. No matter how much it costs. And whether it’s any good or not.

The 27 Club

I never knew about this club before. Well, I didn’t know it had a name. But I knew it existed. And it’s sad, very sad, that we have one. The “27” Club just got a new member: Amy Winehouse. For those of you who don’t know, she’s the 27 year old singer who was found dead last week.

Yes, 27 years old. Which makes her part of the “27 Club.” Along with a few others, such as Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and Kurt Cobain. All musicians, all incredibly talented, all incredibly troubled, and all dead at the age of 27. Those are just the famous ones of course. My own “favorite,” if that is the right word, would be Pete Ham, lead singer and writer of the group Badfinger. 

Pete Ham is certainly not as well-known as the others, but somehow this one really hits me. For you non-Badfinger fans, you might remember some of their biggies: Day After Day and Baby Blue. And almost all of you remember “Without You,” written and originally performed by Badfinger, but covered with huge success by Nilsson. Badfinger was ”discovered” by the Beatles, and the band was sometimes confused with them. (Listen to the guitar solos in “Day After Day.” Definitely George Harrison influenced.) Anyway, to make a long story short, they had lots of success, and were cheated out of most of their money by their manager. Eventually, penniless and despondent, Ham hanged himself after drinking 10 shots of whisky, when he was 27, one month before the birth of his only child. Just for icing on the cake, Tom Evans, his writing partner and best friend in the band, never got over his loss, and eight years later, hung himself as well. Somehow, it’s harder to listen to those songs, knowing that both co-writers met such an end.

Most of these deaths are drug and alcohol related. Maybe not directly, but drugs seem to play a role in all of them. I’m sure a psychiatrist could probably give me a decent answer, but I do wonder what makes people with such talent, so much to live for, so much to offer decide to go this route? Is it a result of fame, and a way to deal with it? Or is it just another way to get a high when the rush of stardom wears off? Obviously, there’s not just one right answer, because there is not just one story. Amy Winhouse’s life and death were not at all like Pete Ham’s, except they both came to a premature closing.

I think I’ll listen to “Day After Day” one more time right now. Maybe you should too. It really is a great song.

Republicans, really?

(Republican friends, you won’t like this one. Move along, there’s nothing to see here!)

First of all, I have to say: I hate these partisan posts. I really do. I have friends on both sides, and I don't like offending half of them. I really don't. But they usually have no problem saying what they think, so I guess I have the right as well. Still, I don't like it. But sometimes it just gets crazy.

I am a republican. At least I was. I’m registered that way.  But honestly, right now I just don't understand that party. Mind you, I don’t think the democrats are exactly always the wisest and best either, but right now at least, the republicans are just crazy.  I’m not sure how else to describe them.

The “debt crisis.” Really? During the Bush administration, with republican congresses, the debt limit was raised seven times—SEVEN. With no fanfare, and almost no notice. (Do YOU remember those votes? Probably not.) It was a bookkeeping item. But now, when a democrat is the president, the congress has essentially wasted an entire summer fighting over what is normally a routine vote. What legislation has congress passed in the last three months? Basically nothing.

But that’s not the worst part of it. Even though the debt went from a surplus (yes I said surplus) at the end of the Clinton administration to record debts at the end of the Bush administration, somehow now “spending is out of control.” Why didn't they say that 5 years ago? In reality, spending has increased of course, but what has made the record surpluses is the lack of tax revenue due to a dead economy. When people aren't working, they aren't paying taxes. And while you can argue all day about whose fault it is that the economy hasn't recovered, we all know it went south during the last republican administration.

But that’s not the worst part of it either. When Reagan, the god of the conservatives, had a debt crisis early in his term, you know what he did? He raised taxes. Yes, really. He raised them. Many times. He cut spending as much as he could, but when the government couldn't afford what they were spending, he raised taxes. Remember Bush 1? When he had a debt problem, he raised taxes. So why can’t we do that now? Because now any tax increase is a “job-killing” tax increase. Even though before Bush 2 made his tax cuts, we had the best economy anyone can remember, somehow going back to those tax rates will be “job killing.” That makes no sense.

But that’s still not the worst of it. No, what’s the worst of it is, Obama is being vilified and belittled by his own party because he’s trying to give away so much. Recommending huge cuts which the democrats hate, to get very tiny tax increases.  If the republicans had accepted Obama’s proposal, they would have won almost everything they wanted, and the democrats would have lost almost everything. But Boehner said no. Because he knows the crazies in his party won't support any tax increases, of any kind, on anybody.

I think it’s pretty simple. The republicans will do anything to make Obama look bad. They probably do care what happens to the country, but not as much as they care about defeating Obama in 2012. And they’ll destroy everything to accomplish that.

This isn't a football game. It’s not about who wins. It’s about what’s right.

And don’t even get me started about the republican governors.

Sometimes We Just Want to Complain

Today I was running with some of my Cross Country kids. They routinely run about a mile, then stop to stretch. Well, one of the girls was sitting in the street doing her stretches. Yes, she could have used the grass or the sidewalk, but she chose the edge of the street. Probably not the best choice, but she was right at a 4-way stop, so the few cars that came by were traveling very slowly. And there was plenty of room for those cars to get by. I watched as two cars passed, the drivers smiling at her, apparently getting a chuckle at the incident. But when the third car came, this driver was not amused. A very sour look was on her face, and I could tell she was mumbling something at this girl. This girl was not in her way, and she didn’t affect this driver in any way, but still she complained.

Yesterday I was in church. Before the service started, one man came in, and was moving up to his seat in the front, where he has sat every single week for at least twenty years. He noticed there were some ropes along the back pews, and asked me what they were doing there. I replied “I don’t think they want you to sit there.” (The ropes were put there to try to bring the congregants a little closer, trying to make a slightly more “together” atmosphere.) He looked at me, with basically the same look as the driver from this morning, and said “Now they’re telling me where I can SIT!” Keep in mind that this man NEVER sits in those pews. It didn’t affect him in any way, but still he complained.

To be fair, to keep this from becoming a rant against all those complainers, I have to admit that I sometimes fall into this category as well. Which brings me to my point; sometimes we just like to complain.

In fact, there are times, I hate to admit, when deep down inside I think I actually want things to go wrong, just so I can complain about them. Does that make any sense at all? Of course not. Yet it is so. And these are not my proudest moments!

I think we’re all this way, just to different extents. The best and most positive among us hope for the best, and live with what happens. On the other extreme, some of us expect the worse, then complain nonstop about it. But as in most things in life, none of us are either extreme. We’re all somewhere in the middle. The best we can do is try to be as much toward the positive end as possible.

But my question is, what makes us this way? Why can some of deal easily with things that don’t really inconvenience us, while others feel it’s necessary to make a big deal and tell everybody how horrible things are.

All I know is, I don’t like those people. Nobody needs them, and they're not helping. Anything. In any way. No matter how important and justified they feel.

And I really don’t like myself when I am one.

Do Dogs Really Go To Heaven?

Yesterday we buried our dog, Pepper. At 13 years old, she'd been around most of my kids' childhood. In their minds really, we've always had Pepper. If you've ever had a dog, then you know how she really becomes one of the family. And Pepper was no different. It was very difficult to let go of her. So when Emma was saying her good-byes, she told Pepper that when she went to heaven, she'd be able to run and jump like she used to, not just shuffle and fall like in her old age. Later Emma asked me if I thought that she was telling Pepper the truth. Emma doesn't like to lie. So I wondered: Do dogs really go to heaven?

On first thought, no, dogs don't go to heaven, any more than cats or squirrels or cockroaches. Humans are God's people, not animals. And if we assume our dogs follow us to heaven, then how about our hamsters. Or fish. Or even mosquitoes. Hmmm... Not likely.

In Pepper's final hours, we laughed and cried, similar in so many ways to other loved ones' deaths I have witnessed before. We petted her, comforted her, and talked to her like she could understand (which maybe she could after all.)

But heaven? I suppose that depends on how you picture heaven. Or if you believe in heaven at all. Because I'll guarantee that if you have ten people in a room discussing heaven, you'll get ten different descriptions. Personally, I don't know what to expect, assuming I even make the cut. And those of us who say they know for sure, well that's just wishful thinking. But somehow I'm not expecting anything as literal as streets of gold, that's for sure. I don't know what heaven will be, but I dont' think it will be like that.

We had our times, Pepper and us, that's for sure. The time she ate the $80, we almost killed her. And there was the time she ate the bag of chocolate chips. Trust me, you don't want to know the details of that escapade. Except that she almost died from it, and it was not pretty. Or the time she ate Sara's jeans, or Emma's German book, or... Yeah, you get the idea.

But through it all, Pepper really was our best friend. I know that sounds trite, but you dog people know exactly what I'm talking about. She was never mad at us, she never called us names, and she never ignored us. No matter what happened, she would always greet us with her tail wagging, always nuzzle us for just a little more attention, and in general remind us that, even in our lowest moments, there was at least one living being that still loved us.

But through the years, her run became a gallop, then maybe a shuffle. As her legs succumbed to old age, it became almost impossible for her to go up or down the stairs to the back yard. It got harder and harder for her to even get up off the floor. When Sara came home after being gone for months, Pepper finally got to the point where she couldn't even stand with our help. Almost like she held on to see her one last time. Maybe that's crazy, but it sure seemed like it.

One thing I do know. I want to die like Pepper did. Surrounded by all her loved ones, she waited patiently for the injection, and then she quickly just seemed to go to sleep. I could go for that kind of death.

We buried her in a very big hole in the back yard, by all the cats, the guinea pigs, and more than a few fish. Mary put a dog treat and a dollar bill in the grave, "her favorite foods." We all helped cover her up. It was very sad, but somehow death is a part of life, and it was as it should be.

When I got back from my run today, I sat on the porch to cool down, like I always do. And I instinctively took a few steps to the door to let Pepper out to join me, like she always did. Then I remembered. She was not coming out today.

But heaven? No I'm not sure. Seeing Pepper with me there really sounds like just wishful thinking. But we've been promised great things for heaven. And I know one thing that just simply can't be there, and that's sadness. Heaven and sadness are mutually exclusive. God has promised us that much I think. If heaven is even close to what's promised, then we just can't be sad there.

So at the risk of this being one of those "Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus" answers, I really have to rethink this one. Because if my kids go to heaven and Pepper's not there, that will make them sad. And there's no sadness in heaven. So by that logic, yes Emma, Pepper will be there in heaven too. You'll see her again, and yes, she'll be running and jumping.

Seeing my kids happy, would make me happy. And there is no sadness in heaven.

Do Jerks Know They're Jerks?

OK, that question may be obvious to you, but it isn't to me. Really. I don't know the answer to this one, but I'm guessing it's one of those questions that is best answered with "Well, that depends..."

Take me, for instance (since I'm writing this.) I think I work really hard at doing the right thing, treating people fairly, being honest, and acting with integrity. I try to help people whenever I can, and I try to forgive people and not hold grudges. In other words, I try to be a good guy. Sometimes I succeed, and sometimes I don't. Now I know there are people who say "Morgan is really a good guy." Yet I also know that there are those reading this in bewildered amazement, thinking "What a jerk (or worse) Morgan is. What an arrogant $#%*&@^."

So in my case, even if I am a jerk, no, this jerk doesn't know he's a jerk.

But I know other people. To me, it seems like their whole goal in life is "to win," to look better than the next guy. They put people down, to their face and behind their backs, whenever they get a chance. They show concern when they think it will make them look good, but disrespect for others at all other times. They usually claim to be Christians, but it's really hard to see any "Jesus-like" behavior coming from them. The only people they treat decently are their friends. You know these guys too. They're arrogant, controlling, and firmly convinced that they're always the smartest guy in the room. Do these guys know their jerks? Obviously, I don't know what's in their heads, but listen to their friends.

Because the friends, or supporters, of these guys, usually defend them. But the defense goes something like: "Yeah, I know he comes across that way, but deep down inside..." Or maybe "Yeah, but trust me, he really means well." And sometimes like this: "Well, you know, he's just being (insert name here.) He's always been that way. That's just him." As if these things somehow excuse all the bad behavior.

Personally, I think that guy knows he's a jerk, and "deep down inside" he's actually proud of it, because it makes him look tough, like a fighter. I'm just guessing, of course.

You know, I  think it comes down to what I've said many times before: we believe what we want to believe. If we have personally gained because of someone, we want to think he's a good guy, so we do. Maybe we got an A in his class, or he gave us a promotion. But if that person hurt us somehow, no matter how well deserved, we think he's a jerk. Maybe we flunked his class, or we were fired. Even if we deserved those things, we don't want to believe that, so we don't. In our minds, the guy must be a jerk.

I think it is commendable, and the right thing to do, to try to be a "good guy." But don't expect rewards from it. That may happen, but it may not as well. Do it, just because it's the right thing to do.

Tax Cuts: What I Don't Want to Believe

I’m a scientist. Well, that’s probably an exaggeration. I actually teach science; chemistry and physics. But I know I tend to look at things somewhat “scientifically.” Which means I look at data and evidence. I try not to make excuses for facts that don’t fit what I think. While I’m sure there are times that I do that, I try really hard NOT to. That would not be good science.

A good scientist will not adjust data to fit his ideas. He will adjust his ideas to fit the data.

So I’m always surprised when I hear people talk about how we need to lower taxes to spur our economy. They say that by lowering taxes, the economy will grow, and the government will then actually collect MORE revenue, due to all that income increase. Really? When I look at the evidence, I just don’t see anything that justifies that.

In the early 80’s, Reagan lowered taxes. What happened? We had a huge deficit. Really. I know conservatives hate to think that. Honestly, I hate to think that as well. But that’s what the data shows.

Next came Bush 1. Despite his infamous “Read my lips: No new taxes” pledge, he soon realized that without doing so, we were going to have huge deficits. So he raised taxes. Slightly. Deficits were still large, but less than they would have been.

In the early 90’s Clinton raised taxes again. The result? The deficit went away. We actually had a budget surplus! And the economy boomed. Incredibly.

Enter Bush 2. He lowered taxes. The result? Surplus gone, deficit huge. Really huge. Way more than anyone ever saw before. And the economy? Well, most people agree it’s the worst we’ve had since the depression of the 1930’s. 

I know we all believe what we want to believe (see this post) but really, if you’re looking at this information, how can you really say “We have to lower taxes to spur our economy?” I’ve looked hard the last couple years, and up to now at least, nobody has shown me any data at all that supports this idea. But they keep saying it anyway.

By nature, I’m a fiscal conservative. I’ve always thought the government should spend as little as possible, and they should always balance their budget. And just like everyone else, I want my taxes very low. But when I look at the evidence, the only reasonable conclusion I can draw is that in the America we know now, this model just doesn’t work like we want it to. And up till now at least, nobody has given me any significant data to refute this.

It’s pretty simple. If we want to decrease the deficit and spur the economy, it looks to me that we have to raise taxes somewhere. I really hate to say that. Maybe you can show me my facts are wrong. If so, that’s great. But by all the evidence I’ve seen, I can come to no other conclusion.

And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll probably admit it as well.

Sometimes they Work

Recently it was reported that traffic deaths had reached their lowest level since 1949. While the details are unclear, it is clear that the RATE of fatalities per mile driven is the lowest since 1949. And the ACTUAL number of deaths is the lowest since at least 1961.Considering we have a whole lot more cars on the road today than in 1961, that’s pretty amazing.

But why is this? What caused the deaths to drop so dramatically? First of all, look at our highways. They’re built differently now: rumble strips on the edges, barriers in the medians, different edge materials, different road substances, and that’s just for starters.

But obviously, a lot of this also has to do with how much safer our cars are now. Since the 1960’s, a whole lot of things are on cars that weren’t there before.

Off the top of my head, here are a few:

• Elevated brake lights
• Head rests
• Seat belts in all cars
• Air bags in all cars
• Seat belt laws
• Drunk driving laws
• And about a million more.

And I’m pretty sure that all of these things are government mandates. Sometimes called “government regulations.” These seem to me to be ones that work. Unfortunately, it is popular for politicians and other “really important people” to speak of all government regulations as things that can only destroy businesses, ruin the economy, and just add to the "nanny state."

It is doubtful that we really want to get rid of these government regulations. But yet, all we seem to hear about government regulations is negative. While I would certainly agree that the government can really step in where they are not needed, we really do a disservice by characterizing any kind of government regulation as a bad thing.

Sometimes they work. Imagine that.

Which Way Will I Go?

I've noticed something about getting old.  It seems that people either go one way, or the other.

I don't mean health wise, (Obviously, we all go down hill health wise eventually!) No, I mean spirit wise. I've noticed that as we get older, we either get nicer, or we get real mean. I've seen it over and over.

Take “Bob.” He’s a nice one. You know, the one who says “Hey, what do you need? I got some time.” He’s the one who doesn’t complain if your dog goes in his yard. He’s the one who waves you on in your car when you’re trying to get into the busy traffic. He’s the one who lets you cut in line at the grocery store when you are holding 15 items because you didn’t really think you’d need a cart. And he’s the one who asks how things are going, then actually waits to hear the answer.

Then take "Don." He's a mean one. He’s the one who scowls at the parents of the crying baby in the grocery store. He’s the one who just knows that kids nowadays are all lazy and disrespectful. He’s the one who tips 10% because “hey, they get paid anyway.” And he’s the one who is sure that everyone in the government is a damn fool.

His attitude goes something like this: "I've lived a long time, and I'm tired of trying to be nice to everybody. Now, I just say what I think. I'm old enough, I don't care any more."

Don forgets that just because you think something, that doesn’t mean you should say it. Even if you think that somehow you’ve earned that right, you still can hurt someones feelings. And just because you’re old, it doesn’t make that hurt any less. And just because you’re old, it doesn’t necessarily make you wise.

So I wonder which way I’ll go. Maybe I’ve already made one of those turns, and I’m already on my way. Honestly, I watch for this. When I hear myself getting nasty with the customer service rep on the phone, I start wondering.  When I start screaming at the car in front of me because it’s not going fast enough for my liking, I notice it. I don’t want to be Don. I want to be Bob. Is this something we can choose? Or is it just part of our DNA, like our eye color or height? I hope not. I like to think that, when it comes to behavior, we all have choices. We all have different natural tendencies, so maybe the right choice is harder for some of us. But I hope we still have the option to do what is right.

I really hope I make the right turn.

Could I Have Done That?

We’ve all heard all kinds of stuff about the bin Laden killing this week. About the Navy Seals, the intelligence gathering, the President, and on and on. It got me wondering whether I would have had the right stuff for something like this. I have trouble with war, I have trouble with killing. And while I can’t be excited at the death of even someone as obviously evil as bin Laden, I definitely feel that this was the right thing to do, and I’m glad it happened. But could I have done it?

Take the Navy Seals. They’re just one of the Special Forces in the military. I’m not sure of all of them, but I know the Green Berets are their army counterpart. And whether it’s the Seals or the Green Berets, I know only certain guys can make it in. We’ve all heard about the mission, and what they had to do. Could I have done that? Just pretending I was young enough, smart enough, in shape enough, and tough enough to make it in, could I have done that mission? Could I have boarded that helicopter, rapelled down, gone through the compound? Not knowing whether I was going to step on a mine or ignite a bomb with my next step? Not knowing whether there was a sniper waiting to take me out? Not knowing what was around each corner? And then, when I faced the target, could I have done what they did? Could I have pulled the trigger on an old man standing there with his wife and child? I don’t know.

While not nearly as spectacular, what the President did might have been, in it’s own way, just as difficult. Yes, I know as President, he has to be able to give the order to kill. That alone would be difficult enough. But in this situation, a lot was on the line. Many of his advisers counseled against this plan: they recommended bombing, or drone strikes, or possibly other ideas. But he chose this one. The risk was enormous, both for the country and for him personally. There were so many things that could have gone wrong. If that mission had failed miserably, which was likely, we would have been branded as terrorists ourselves, who invaded a sovereign ally, and on and on.  And Obama would have been smeared across every news outlet in the country as hopelessly unfit for the position of Commander-In-Chief. When Jimmy Carter attempted a similar mission 30 years ago, that’s exactly what happened. It failed horribly, and Carter never recovered.

You know, none of us ever know what we’re made of until we get in that situation. Will we react, or will we retreat? Will we have the courage, or will we back away? Will we have the strength to stand, or will our weakness consume us? Until we’re there, we just don’t know. In many ways, I’m glad that I will probably never be in that position. Yet in some strange way, I want to be. I would like to know if I have, inside me, the courage, the strength, the determination, and the desire, to do what the Seals or the President did.

The fact that I may never know, is both comforting, and troubling.

You’re a Christian

An odd thing happened to me today. Not a bad thing, just an odd thing. Odd, because it never happened before. So much so, that I didn’t know how to react.

A few days ago, I stopped at a computer store to ask about some problems I was having with my computer. I was talking to the woman who owned the shop, and I told her my name, which caused no reaction. Logical, since I didn't know this person at all. But when she found out I was a teacher, that's when I got the “Oh, Mr. Morgan,” with a tone of recognition. Now for those of you who are teachers, you know this happens all the time. When someone you don’t know, calls you “Mr.” (or “Mrs.” or “Miss”) you can be pretty sure you taught one of her kids. And it could go either way. At that point they may praise you like you're the greatest teacher since Carl Sagan, or somehow infer your relationship to Hitler. So I held my breath and asked, steeling myself for the worst. She just said that her daughter had attended my school, but didn’t have me as a teacher. Somehow she knew about me though. Whew! Crisis avoided.

So today I took my computer back to her to get it fixed. (Yes, I know I usually fix them myself, but this one is beyond me.) I mentioned her daughter, and what I remembered about her. At that point, the woman looked right at me and said “You’re a Christian.” I just stood and looked at her, not really knowing what to say. Nobody had ever said that to me like that, especially someone who I don’t even know.

A hundred thoughts went through my mind all at once. How did she know? Was she pleased? Did her daughter tell her? And if so, how did the daughter know, as I barely knew her. And I don’t normally give sermons at school. And on and on...

I finally just said, “Yes, I am. But how did you know?” I mean, I wasn’t carrying a Bible, I don’t have a Jesus tattoo. And it’s not something I just come up and tell people. (Hi, my name’s Richard. Nice to meet you. I’m a Christian....)

She told me her daughter was a Christian. Like somehow that just explained the whole thing right there. (Must be a secret network or something that I’m not aware of?) So I prodded a little further, asking how her daughter knew. And she replied. “All the Christian kids talk. They know who the Christian teachers are. It’s good to have them.”

You know, I haven’t really been a Christian all my life. Maybe if I had been, this wouldn’t have seemed so strange. Yet it was odd. And cool. And neat. And eerie. All at the same time.

I cautioned her that I may not be the Christian she is picturing. That while I’m a Christian, I’m also a scientist, and I accept the views of both disciplines without conflict. I’m probably not what non-Christians think of, when they think of a Christian. She seemed fine with all that.

I’m not really sure of any conclusion here. Although it definitely took me aback, I was secretly pleased, I think, that some student I hardly knew realized this about me. It made me feel good, in a strange way.

And to be completely honest, even a little proud.

We Really Have to Come Together

No. We don’t. Not always. Maybe not even usually.

“You have to work it out and come together” is something that’s said when two sides are having a disagreement. Maybe it’s Republicans and Democrats, or owners and players, or any two groups you want to plug in there. But we don’t always have to “come together.”

What’s more, not only don’t we have to, I think more often than not we shouldn't. In any disagreement, almost always, “truth” is somewhere between the stances of both sides. I think we can all agree on that. Which is why we are told to “come together.”

But the flaw with that is that, while “truth” is probably between the two sides, it doesn’t mean it’s right smack dab in the middle. Maybe it is, but it also could be 90% to one side. And here’s the trouble. Contrary to what people like to believe, a lot of times there really is a “good guy” and a “bad guy” involved. And the bad guy knows that if he keeps insisting on unreasonable positions, the good guy will try to “come together” and meet him. (Because, of course, he’s a good guy!) So even if truth is 90% toward good guy, bad guy will just dig in and wait for the the position to come to him. And usually it will. Because good guy wants to settle the conflict.

Imagine if in 1939, Hitler and Churchill had just tried to “come together.” Actually, they did try that at first. All of Europe, fresh off a World War, certainly didn’t want another one. So they tried to “come together” with Hitler, and kept making deals and compromises. In those deals, Hitler (bad guy if there ever was one) gave away little. Europe (good guys) gave a lot. But finally all of Europe could see that Hitler was never going to give in at all. That’s when the war started. You can preach about the immorality of war all you want, and I’ll probably mostly agree with you. But the fact is, if Churchill hadn't stood his ground, drawn a line in the sand, Hitler would not have been stopped.

There are times when even the most honest, righteous, and peace-loving person has to make that stand, draw that line in the sand. Churchill did it. Roosevelt did it a few years later. Even Jesus did it with the money changers in the temple. He didn't try to reason with them, make a compromise, and "come together." And I think he was a good guy if there ever was one.

So next time you see a disagreement, and say in disgust “Why don’t they just put their differences aside and just come together,” keep in mind that there’s a good chance that one side already has done that, and given away much.

It’s funny, that we say we value honesty, integrity, and fairness. Yet in a disagreement, we always brand the one who gives away more as “weak.” When in reality, it’s probably the good guy, in his quest to settle conflict, that has given more. Apparently we actually value dishonesty, cheating, and stubbornness.

Unfortunately.

Uncle Chuck

Life is short. And the older I get, the more apparent that becomes. If you’re like me, you go through life, trying to “make a difference.” I try real hard to do things right, to teach people, to set an example. I want to make sure that when I’m through with this life, I will have left a mark of some kind. And hopefully a good one. 

That’s one of the reasons I became a teacher, and it’s one of the reasons I’m still coaching. Now this doesn't mean I want to be rich, or famous, or even well known. It just means that, when I’m gone, there will hopefully be at least a few people who say “You know, that guy really taught me something.” I’m pretty sure more of us than not think along those same lines.

Which brings me to Uncle Chuck. Although we never talked about it, I’m pretty sure Uncle Chuck didn’t think about this at all. He never gave talks about “life lessons.” He never told me what was right and what was wrong. He never really tried to influence me, or anyone, to any great degree about anything.

No, Uncle Chuck was a very simple man. He loved his family, and anything outdoors. He made his living working in the cement plant, which was probably the cause of the lung disease that would eventually take him. But his love was outdoors. Fishing, hunting, hiking, boating, snowmobiling. Anything outside. So much so that it seemed odd to see him inside when the weather was decent.

It was a sad day when Uncle Chuck died. We went to the funeral, where Aunt Annie was a rock, comforting all of us, even though inside she was dying herself. But instead of a lunch in the church basement, Chuck made sure his “party” was at the legion. They served us beer and pizza, along with a bunch of other good food. (Actually I can't remember if there was pizza or not, but the event certainly had a “beer and pizza” feel to it.) He wanted all of us to have a good time, nothing fancy, because that’s how he lived.

And sometime during that party, it hit me. That Uncle Chuck probably never tried to “make a difference.” Yet that’s exactly what he did. Listening to the stories people told, talking to friends and family, and going back through my own memories of him, it suddenly became obvious that Chuck had “made a difference” to all of us. That he lived simply, but honestly, without pretension, and without ill will toward anyone. He was a friend to everyone, and would always lend a helping hand. Complete with a smile. As I left his party, I realized that living like Uncle Chuck would be a good way to live.

Thanks for the life lesson, Uncle Chuck. By just being yourself, you did alright.

I Really Should Have...

I don’t know about you, but I have a tendency quite often to step back from what I’m doing or thinking or saying, and ask myself if it really makes any sense. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, a common thing or uncommon thing, but I do it a lot. Some of my friends tell me I think too much. (Is that possible?) But maybe they’re right. I know it brings to my mind a lot of really strange thoughts.

Like this one. I remember one time I was mowing my lawn. As I was mowing, I saw my neighbor just finishing a run. I hadn't run that day yet, and there was a good chance I wasn't going to have the time. And I remember thinking “Man, this lawn could have waited. I should have gone running instead.” I felt kinda irresponsible for not running.

Fast forward about a week. As I’m returning from a fairly long run, I see my neighbor mowing his lawn. And I remember thinking “Man, this run could have waited. I should have mowed the lawn instead.” And I felt kinda irresponsible for letting my lawn grow.

Now, I quickly realized this logic made absolutely no sense. And as I started thinking about things I do, or don’t do, I came to an odd, and somewhat troubling, conclusion about myself: No matter what I’m doing, I tend to feel I should be doing something else.

If I read a book, I get mad at myself for not being more productive. If I work real hard, I wonder why I can’t just stop and relax, maybe read a book! If I go on vacation, I wonder why I didn't stay home and get something done. If I stay home, I wonder why I can’t travel a little and enjoy myself. If I write this blog, I wonder why I’m not working on other things. (Things that really matter!) But if I do those other things, I wonder why I'm not spending some time on the blog.

This list goes on and on. It’s an incredibly frustrating way to live, that’s for sure! I have no idea if this is normal for your average human, or if it’s just me. I just know it’s annoying.

Of course, if I didn’t think so much, I guess I’d never even know.

The Best Care Money Can Buy

I was recently reading about Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords. And about how she’s making great progress after that shooting. That even with the incredible brain damage she suffered, she’s improving with leaps and bounds. She’s even considering a run for the senate. That’s pretty cool.

Last week a friend was telling me about her cousin who is in her 40’s. She suffered a stroke, I believe, and was left with significant damage to her speech, her motor skills, and her thought processes. She had a couple of therapy sessions, but then the insurance ran out. The family doesn’t have much money, so she’s done with therapy. And this is probably just about as “healed” as she’ll get.

I find these two cases interesting. One woman gets the best health care money can buy. And is recovering. The other one gets, well, NOT the best health care money can buy. And is NOT recovering.

Now if I have a better job than you, if I make more money than you, then there’s a good chance that I’ll have a better car than you. I’ve earned that, by virtue of my income. We all understand that.

So, is health care like a car? The people who make more money, the people with better jobs, get better health care? Well, apparently, it is, at least in this country.

But should it be? I’m not sure. I know we can’t afford to pay complete health care costs for every single individual in this country. I understand that. I'm not saying we should have free, unlimited health care for all. That I'm not sure about. Yet, somehow it seems that good health is somehow different from a Mercedes convertible.

At least, you would think so.