Millennials

Millennials: those 20-something (mostly) people. We all know them. We’ve all read about them. We all have an opinion. And most of us baby boomers have a pretty harsh opinion, at that. They’re lazy. They’re entitled. They just want stuff handed to them. Maybe, for some. But mostly I disagree.

Every single millennial I know is incredibly hard-working. It seems they always have at least one job, sometimes two. Now, they may not be the best paying jobs. In fact, they’re usually not. What boomers seem to forget, is that things were way different back when we came of age. Most of us got out of school, and got a job, in the field we wanted. And that job usually paid enough that we could rent an apartment (of our own!) and maybe buy a good used car, or maybe even a very cheap new one. We weren’t rich, and we couldn’t buy a house right away, but we could survive. That isn’t true for millennials. The job market is just not the same. Sure there are jobs, but a good number of graduates now don’t get work in their field. So they take on something different, whatever they can get actually. And it’s usually pretty low paying. Also, when I was in college, I made enough money in the summer to pay for my tuition (though not room and board) for the entire year. That can't happen anymore. Tuition has risen so much, and summer wages have mostly stagnated. So many graduates now have tons of student debt. This is something we had no concept of.

So it's not surprising that many millennials move back home. Or share an apartment with two or three roommates. They really don’t have much choice. They don’t have enough money to do much else.

But on the other hand, there are things about millennials that I do have trouble with. First of all, they spend more at restaurants than we ever did. Taco Bell and McDonald's have been replaced with Starbucks and Chipotle (or some other restaurants that I'm not cool enough to know about!) A $12 burger isn’t uncommon.  They also drink better beer. Yes, PBR has made a comeback, (for which I’m grateful!) but also craft beers at $6 a glass are pretty common too. And finally, they travel way more than we ever did. It’s not unusual to hear of a recent college graduate take a three week trip to Europe “just to relax.” Or maybe Asia, or just a short jaunt down to the Caribbean. Trust me, that’s something we never did. Didn’t even consider it. So yes, they do spend more than we did.

But on the other hand again, my parents said the same thing about us: that we spent too much money and didn’t work hard enough. My dad always seemed annoyed that I didn't always have a summer job; I think he thought I was pretty lazy. And I remember one time when I was just starting out, in my first year of teaching, and my parents came up to visit. My dad saw an 8-pack of Pepsi in the kitchen. And he immediately said “What’s that?” Like it was some kind of accusation or something. So I said “It’s Pepsi!” His response was classic. In fact, I’m pretty sure I remember it word for word. “Pop? You have pop? We couldn’t afford pop when we were your age!” And he shook his head with disgust. And yes, that’s a true story.

And finally, if millennials really are as bad as some say, whose fault is it? We are the ones that raised them, that gave them their ideas and values. I really don’t think there was a mass set of mutations that caused these people to be different. No, it’s what they learned from their parents, teachers, and other role models. So if they’re lazy and entitled, let’s look at who taught them to be this way.

Maybe I’m wrong, and feel free to disagree with me, but this has been my experience. In all seriousness though, I think part of the backlash against millennials is part of the “blame someone else for the world’s troubles” idea that we as Americans seem to have. We never want to take the responsibility ourselves, so it’s always someone else’s fault: millennials, immigrants, people of color, welfare queens, people of the LGBT community, democrats, republicans….  You get the idea.

Now, if there are any millennials reading this, this isn’t an excuse to be lazy! Keep working hard, keep trying for the career you want, and never ever settle. Really, don’t ever, ever settle.

It may take a longer than it you would like, but you’ll get there.

A Broken World?

A Broken World. Really? Yesterday I heard two different people refer to “our broken world.” One of the speakers, I think, was referring to our world from a Christian viewpoint: this is a broken world because we are sinners, and cannot match the perfection of God. And I understand that view. Because yes, we are all sinners. And yes, we are many times poor excuses for good people.

But the other speaker seemed to have a different meaning. I think he meant this is a broken world, because we have really just gone off the rails, and what used to be a wonderful world is now a complete mess. And it occurred to me, I don’t agree with it.

I know it’s popular to characterize our world as broken. It’s a mess, filled with evil people. It’s not like it used to be when we had law and order. Our country is lost, the world is in shambles, and compared to some time ago, there is so much less respect, integrity, character, and decency. The world has basically degenerated, and we need somebody to take it all by the reins, punish the bad guys, and make it all better.

You know, I’m not normally known as an optimist, but I am in this respect. Is the world really broken? I don’t buy it. I know sometimes it seems bad. Yes, we have lots of murders and terrorist attacks, but they don't compare to the loss of life in the huge wars we've had in the past. The economy isn’t great, but it’s a lot better than it was a few years ago. We have race problems, to be sure, but as bad as it seems sometimes, in comparison to the 1950’s, I think we’re improving. Of course, a complete discussion of this would take volumes, but that’s for another time.

But last night I saw an episode of “The West WIng.” (Season 4, Episode 2 for those who watch.) And in it, there had been a bombing of a college swim team. Forty-four students were killed. I know this is a TV show, a fictional story about a fictional president. But I couldn’t help but be struck by how this fictional president handled this tragedy. This fictional president lifted everyone up, made us optimistic, gave us hope, while still facing the problem. I think our current actual president does his best to do that as well, with varying degrees of success. But sometimes, people just want to fill us all with fear, despair, and anger, trying to divide us and pit one group against another.

But I’m just really tired of hearing it, and reading it. In person, on bumper stickers. On Facebook. Online. Everywhere. Apparently, lots of people want to spread this idea. And oddly, just as many want to hear it. They want to fear. They want to think the world is horrible. They want to think it’s all so bad.

But you know, they can go ahead and think the world is broken. And feel depressed and angry. It’s their life, and it’s their right. But as for me, I’ll look at the world through what I feel are honest eyes, and see that no, the world isn’t perfect, but we’ve made a lot of progress in making it better. And if we work together rather than against each other, if we lift each other up rather than tear each other down, we can make it better still.  I say that because I’m really, really tired of the negativity and pessimism I see everyday in every kind of media. But I also say it because it’s truth.

Call me an optimist or a fool, take your pick. But maybe I’m just a realist.

Old Man Running

So this morning I ran a race. Well, it was called a race, and I participated in it. And I finished it. And I even beat some people. And I was real tired when I got done. So I guess it actually was a race.

There’s a reason I hesitate to call it a race, though. It’s because I still haven’t gotten used to this “old man running” thing. I mean, I finished in 27:08, which honestly was way better than I thought I would, so I’m not complaining. But back in the day, I would watch people run 27 minutes for a 5k, and wonder how they could possibly be so slow? Yeah, I know, I was young and foolish. But now that I’m old and foolish, I know how slow I must have looked this morning.

But there were some victories in the race. First of all, I beat all of the walkers, so that’s a good thing! And while the results aren’t posted yet, I’m pretty sure I finished in the middle of the pack for the runners, so like I said, I’m not complaining. But I used to really RUN. The gun would go off, and I would take off so fast I’d be at the mile mark before I realized I was tired (OK, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.) Now, about 30 years later, my races aren’t anything like that. Nope, not even close.

But in my mind, I’m just cranking. During the last mile, I caught 5 people who had been pretty far ahead of me. I could feel myself almost “sprinting, or hopefully “gliding,” or at least “striding.” But I’m sure it looked a little different. I don’t think I’m quite at a shuffle yet, but give me a few years!

The worst part of the race? Right about the .75 mile mark, this little kid passed me, maybe 12 or 13 years old. I could tell he wasn’t a runner, and I knew he’d start to walk. Well, when he got about 20 yards in front of me, he did just that. That’s the good news. The bad news is, that while he was walking and I was running, I wasn’t really gaining on him! Ugh. But eventually I did get by him.

The best part of the race? Well, the finish of course, passing those people. Except I think I kinda blew it. As I turned the final corner with about 150 yards, to go, there was a guy about 10 yards ahead of me. I knew that I should go after him, just because. (Mitch would!) Well, I didn’t, then I didn’t some more, and then with about 30 yards left, I broke into my sprint (or maybe a fast shuffle!) and started to catch him. But I didn’t want to sneak up on him and pass him at the line; that seemed kinda poor-sport-ish of me. So instead I yelled at him “I'm coming!” Like three times. I figured he’d take off. Instead, he just moved aside and let me pass him. I was trying to be nice and give him some warning, but I’m sure that when I said “I’m coming” he took it as “I’m coming you little twit, and I’m going to run your worthless butt into the ground you wretched scum.” Or something like that. He probably thinks I’m the biggest jerk in the world. Sorry.

I even wore the Sandbagger colors. And was recognized by them, which is always cool. Sandbaggers are famous around here, apparently.

OK, but back to this “Old Man Running” thing. No, I’m not used to it yet. I still can’t believe how slow my normal runs are. But while I don’t really accept it, I’m not ashamed of it either. Yes, I know my “strides” are more like “shuffles.” And yes, I run about 3 minutes per mile slower than I used to. And no, I’ll never get another PR. But slow as it may be, and as “Old Man Running” as I look, the good thing is: I’m still running.

And for that, I’m incredibly grateful.

Retired...

I retired about 3 years ago, after 35 years of teaching. The best career move I ever made! I go to bed when I want, I get up when I want (usually) and for the most part I do what I want. Compared to the whirlwind of busy that came with teaching and coaching, this is really a breeze, and I would never ever in a million years go back. Still…

Last week was a miserable week of weather. Cold and rainy all week, then capped off with about 8 inches of snow on Saturday. I hated it, like most of us. But I couldn’t help thinking that while it was disgusting, it didn’t really affect me like it did when I was a track coach. I made a facebook post to that effect, and I got lots of responses from former runners of mine. Which got me thinking about back then...

Reminiscing is always dangerous, because we tend to look back at the past with blinders on. We remember the good parts, and probably play up the “good” just a bit too much. And we remember the bad parts too, but we normally play the "bad" down, thinking “well it wasn’t so bad.” Yet...

No, I would never go back. Teaching was great, and coaching was wonderful. But the time, the energy, the dedication it took to be effective; well, I don’t think I could do that anymore. It makes me tired to just think about it! Still…

I have to say, there are times when I look back on those times, and I miss them. And I think I know why. First of all, I miss some of my best friends, dreadfully, and while I see them periodically, it’s not nearly the same as sharing everything, good times and bad, celebrations and disappointments. But there’s more than that. It’s the same reason so many new retirees find one thing after another to fill their time. It’s not because of boredom, although that’s what they may say. No, I think it’s really because they miss feeling useful.

When I was teaching and coaching, if I had been hit by a bus and killed instantly, everything I was involved with would have been turned completely upside down. Nobody could do the things I did; nobody knew how. And honestly, nobody even really knew what all those things were. And that’s not just me; that’s probably true with most people. Eventually, of course, they would have figured it out, as they did when I finally retired. After all, nobody is actually irreplaceable.

But even more than that, the thing I enjoyed most about teaching and coaching, is that I made a difference in so many lives. I affected a lot of people. Yes, I made a difference. That is such an emotional experience, it’s not surprising that I miss that.

I love retirement, and I would never go back. Still...

The Teachers' Lounge

Recently, I saw a Facebook post concerning teachers. The poster talked about the wonderful teachers he had had. But when he became a teacher, he found many teachers gossiped and talked badly about students in the lounge. He seemed disappointed.

I spent a lifetime teaching, so I’m acquainted with teachers’ lounges. And my response was “What did he expect?” These teachers who “gossiped and talked badly” about students may actually have been wonderful teachers.  I know a bunch of teachers who were sometimes unbearable in the teachers’ lounge but were in fact excellent teachers. And I can pretty much guarantee that his “wonderful teachers” behaved very similarly when they were around other teachers.

Most teachers I know are dedicated, hard-working individuals. But we all have our own internal filters. These filters tell us what we should or shouldn’t say in any social situation. While I tried very hard to be the same person to my students as I was with my friends, there are still things I just couldn’t do or say. When a teacher is with his students, it is normally not a good idea, for instance, to talk about religion, politics, sex, or any of a zillion other topics. And also a good teacher will most likely go out of her way not to berate a student, even when a student is being a complete jerk, or just having one of those “where is his brain?” moments. As teachers, we filter those things.

But when we’re with our own peers, those filters change. We can say, and show, a lot more than we can when around students. So when in the teachers’ lounge, complaining just happens. Yes, it can get out of hand. And yes, it would be better, I suppose, if teachers didn’t engage in that kind of behavior. But for the most part, it is a time when teachers let their filters go, and “blow off steam” so to speak. It really doesn’t make them any less teachers.

I’ve been told funeral personnel are the same way. I’m pretty sure they aren’t sad all the time. I’m sure that sometimes they are treating the grieving family one way, but then are completely different with their colleagues. It doesn’t mean they’re bad. It means they’re human. And they have to let those filters down sometimes.

Most of us have done this: we get bad service from someone at a store, then we get out into our car and complain about “that stupid clerk” or whatever. In this case, our car is our “teachers’ lounge.” No difference.

But you know, there are some people with no filters at all. We’ve all heard people say something like “I tell it like I see it. I don’t care what people think. I’m tired of this politically correct crap.” Well, first of all, normally they don’t mean it. They still do have some filters; they just don’t like to admit it.

But there are some who really do mean it, and don’t filter anything. They say whatever they think. They would actually call that clerk above “stupid.” Some people admire these unfiltered people. They call them genuine, and true. But these people aren’t “genuine” or “true.” No, these people are “jerks.”  (which is the nicest word I could use in a family -friendly blog.) Because filtering our behavior in public is not about being politically correct, or untrue, or fake, or caring about what people think. It’s just being considerate. It’s about treating other humans with decency and respect.

But there are instances when we actually need no filters. When we are with someone who we can be with and have absolutely no filters, that’s the best situation ever. It allows us to be completely comfortable and perfectly at ease. We can be our absolute selves, we can relax, and life is good!

Those people are what we call “best friends.”

Scientific, not Political

Climate change. This is a scientific topic. At least it should be. Unfortunately, in today's world, it has become a political topic. Which is sad, unfortunate, bewildering, and dangerous. Because, while climate change could turn out to be a minor problem, it also could turn out to be the biggest threat modern man has ever known.

Am I exaggerating? Actually, I don’t know. Nobody does for sure. Which is, of course, the problem. While there are many different views on climate change, one thing that almost everyone agrees on is that to stop, reduce, or minimize it, is going to be a very difficult problem. So if it turns out that it’s not a big threat, then we’ve made a mountain out of a mole hill. But if, as most scientists believe, it can become catastrophic, then we really have to do whatever is necessary, whatever the effort, at whatever the cost.

Ignore the news organizations and the politicians on this one. Check out scientific websites. While news and political websites are debating whether climate change actually exists, the scientific websites are posting study after study and article after article, of the present and future effects, causes, and treatments of this problem. Honestly, it’s almost as if there are two mutually exclusive worlds: the scientific one where people study and discuss a scientific issue; and the non-scientific, everyday world where people are arguing if it’s a hoax or not. It’s baffling to me that these two can coexist.

And the oddest thing about this? The people who don’t believe in climate change tend to be the same people who seem to have a complete distrust of government and news media. Yet, in this case, they’re ignoring the scientific community and trusting their favorite politicians and news sources. How does this make sense? Honestly, I don’t get it.

Examples? At Phys.org I found at least 10 articles discussing climate change, as casually as they discuss geologic history or the flow of the Colorado river. Or go to NOAA.gov, ScienceNews.org, or any of a million others. And yes, 2015 set another record for the warmest year on record, and by a record largest margin.

Sure, you can find scientists who dispute this. But you can find scientists who dispute that cigarettes are harmful, too. Yet a huge majority of scientists agree that this is a problem, caused at least partly by humans, that is likely to cause us big problems down the line.

I remember when I first started teaching almost forty years ago, I talked about global warming and the greenhouse effect. I taught it because it was science, just like the atomic theory, Newtonian mechanics, and stoichiometry. Now just because it’s science, however, doesn’t mean it’s all correct. But it does normally represent our best ideas based on the data we have. In 1980, this wasn’t controversial. Somehow, now it is.

If you search the web, you'll find many articles and blogs that say pretty much the same as this one. But apparently, nobody is listening. Because most of our government representatives either believe climate change is a hoax, or ignore it. And while the democratic candidates discuss it somewhat, the republican candidates pretty much ignore it.

You know, a day might come when we look back and say “Why didn’t we do something?” But by then, it will probably be too late. My children will, unfortunately, probably see that day. There is a good chance that I won’t.

But then again, I might.

I Miss the Old Internet

Today I was online, and I saw a reference to an article about a better way to use old unused binders (notebooks). OK, that made sense, as I have a few of those. So I clicked on the link, and I was sent to a page, not with information about binders, but with an entire slideshow about “life hacks.” Not only did I not care about a slideshow of “life hacks,” if I had gone through with it, I would have had to click through probably 20 pages of things I didn’t care about, each page taking forever to load, just to get to the one thing I wanted. But I didn’t go through with it, because it loaded so slowly, I got tired of waiting for it to load, so I gave up and closed the tab. And why? Because of the ads… hundreds of them. Which of course is why almost nothing on the internet is given in a list; instead, information is given one page at a time, each one loading agonizingly slowly, so I can be bombarded with ads.

Or how about this one? I’m sure you’ve experienced this. You see a news article you want to read. So you click on it. The article shows up for about 1 second, then the screen is covered with some ad for the news source, and if you’re patient, you can click on through in 5...4...3...2...1. Finally you get to the page, and you start reading. But as you’re reading, all of a sudden the text moves down, out of view, while an ad loads, usually a video. And then the ad starts playing. You search for your text, and when you find it and try to start reading again, the video is still playing. Sometimes you can mute the video, sometimes you can’t. When the video is done, it disappears, and your text jumps back up, and you lose your place all over again. Or sometimes two videos start playing at the same time, fighting each other. So, many times, if you’re like me, you give up and just close the page.

You know, it wasn’t always like this. “Back in the day” it was possible to actually use the internet. Directly. Without being bombarded with ads. Now don’t get me wrong. I understand the need for ads. It costs money for an organization to sponsor a web page, and that money has to come from somewhere. And I know that America, being the land of the free, allows and encourages capitalism and all that goes with it, such as incredible numbers of ads. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. But I get it. Still, sometimes I really think it has just run amok. Yes, I can use adblockers, but those don’t always work particularly well either.

When I took my first internet design course, back in the mid 90’s, one of the cardinal rules was to never, never, never embed video or audio that would start playing by itself. It was considered too rude. Well, today’s internet doesn’t care about rude. And while I’m talking about the 90’s, “back in the day,” my internet speed was less than 10% as fast as it is today, but since 90% of the stuff that comes across is advertisements, it doesn’t really seem any faster. I just pay Time Warner more.

I don’t know the answer. But I do think that if the companies cared, they could make the ads just as effective but less intrusive. My facebook feed has ads, and while I don’t like them, they don’t normally ruin the experience. Google’s products all have ads ( which I why they’re free) but somehow the ads don’t get in the way. Amazon’s site is nothing but ads, yet it still works well. But companies, for the most part, don’t care. As long as they make their bucks.

Unfortunately, I know it’s not ever going to get any better. So this is probably just a “grayshift” old-guy rant about “the good old days.” Maybe it is. Still, I’m not normally one for nostalgia. I’m not one of those who think everything was better way back when.

But some things were.

So I’m a Freshman All Over Again

Recently, I started back to college. Sorta. Actually, I’m taking one class at Terra State Community College. I found out that old people like me can audit courses at state institutions in Ohio tuition-free. Even though I had to pay some fees and books, it was still a deal. So I decided to take a beginning web design course. Since I do a few websites for friends, and I could definitely do them better, it made since. And I have the time.

But that meant, of course, that I had to start school all over again, with a bunch of 19 year-olds, at a place that was new to me. But I signed up, registered for the class, and paid, all in about an hour, in a small building where I was the only person in line. Not exactly like I remember from the University of Toledo in the 1970’s! That was the easy part.

Then came the part I was afraid of: The first day of school! So, just to start off right (not) I went to the wrong class. Of course. Of course! When the teacher there informed me I was in the right room, but the wrong building, I did my best to pretend all was cool, all the time feeling like an idiot, but trying not to LOOK like I was feeling like an idiot. Well, I got to the right building, and do you think I could find room 210? Of course not. OK, yes I did, but not without a lot of looking. All I know is it wasn’t where the signs said it was. And how come I was the only one looking lost, walking around in circles, staring at signs and room numbers? But I got there, walked in, and even though I was early, there were already about 10 students in there, logged in and working on the computers. (What is going on here? What are they working on?) Anyway, I figured out how to log in, and pretended I was doing something, just so I didn’t look so out of place…which I already did being 3 times the age of the rest of the students.

Finally, the class started, and the instructor started talking about the syllabus he put online. Wait, what? There’s a syllabus? I actually had looked online the night before and there was nothing. Of course, I looked at 8:00, a proper time for old guys like me. He put it up around 11 he said. 11? PM? Really? Really. Doesn’t he know I’m old? And I don’t stay up as late as they do? No, of course not. But since I didn’t see the syllabus, I also didn’t see the part where it told me to bring a flash drive. So then he asks “Who doesn’t have a flash drive?” He might as well have asked “Who is an idiot I can point out to everyone so we can make him feel stupid?” Meekly, my hand, and my hand alone, was raised. Crap. I think I had just been tagged as the doddering old guy in the back row. Crap. Crap…Crap. I hate doddering.

But eventually, the class was over, and except for the fact that I was the only one who had to bring separate reading glasses, I made it back to my truck with no more issues. Finally!

All in all, I guess it could have been worse. My very first day of college, 40 years ago, I dropped my cafeteria tray at my very first meal. At least this wasn’t that bad.

Still, I made sure I didn’t go to the snack bar. I didn’t want to take any chances.

If I Were Joseph

Joseph. We don’t know much about him. We know his girlfriend/fiancé/betrothed was pregnant. And he didn’t know what to do. Realistically, he was probably pretty annoyed/upset/pissed. But an angel came to Joseph. The angel told him basically “Take it easy. Don’t get all upset. Mary was made pregnant by the Holy Spirit. She was not unfaithful to you. And the son she will have will be Jesus, and he is the Messiah, the savior, the Son of God.”

Yeah, right.

I’m pretty sure I wouldn't have believed it. And even if I did, while I hate to admit this, I think some petty jealousies might have arisen in me. Thinking “Mary gives birth to the child, the God, and I’m nothing but a caretaker.” I probably would have tried to make it more about me, because, unfortunately, sometimes I do that. And so do a lot of us. But Joseph, thankfully, was different. As the Bible says, “Joseph was a righteous man.” And so he took Mary as his wife, and raised as his own the child that was not his.

This world needs leaders, people with drive and ambition who want to make a name for themselves while working for the greater good. But they also need people like Joseph, who was willing to be less important, because the end was more important than his own needs. He basically said “I will raise this God-child as my own. Even if history remembers me as more of an extra than anything more.” I’m not sure I could have done that. I’m not anything like Joseph. Right or wrong, that’s just not me.

And really, we don’t know much more about Joseph. He apparently died before Jesus started his ministry. Which is too bad, because he never got to see what Jesus would become, what Joseph helped to make happen. But from a Dad’s point of view, he was pretty amazing. What kind of man would accept Mary after she became pregnant? And then raise the child as his own? All the time knowing, that even if Jesus were the Messiah, he was just an accessory, a footnote mostly, in the life of the most important man to ever live. I’m sure I would have demanded a greater role. And I would have been a fool.

Christmas is a wonderful time. Even though we know that December 25 is certainly not the actual day Jesus was born, we still revel in the fact that He was born at all. And because of what He stood for, in this season, thoughts of love and good will fill us, more than any other time of year. And while yes, Christmas season can become just a little bit too commercial, too over-hyped, just a little too much, I still think Jesus would look at what's in the hearts of most of us and be happy that, at least for this time each year, we remember what Jesus came for, and what He was.

So in this Christmas season, when we celebrate, as we should, the Child’s birth, we focus on Jesus, and Mary. But just once maybe, give a mental shout-out to Joseph. What he did was selfless, wonderful, and loving. But because he did, Jesus grew up to be Jesus the Messiah.

And that changed everything.

I Don't Know the Answer

I don’t know the answer. Not even close. Honestly, I have no idea how to solve it. But I do know the question, which is “How can we lessen the gun violence in this country?"

This little girl was Emma Nowling. Last week, at the age of 7, she was shot and killed at soccer practice, by a family friend. The shooter came to practice, and Emma gave him a big hug. A little while later while Emma and her mother were in the car about to leave, the shooter fired into the car, killing Emma and wounding her mother. He then shot himself. How horrible. Honestly, I’m not sure how many tragedies are in this one short paragraph.

Why did he do it? Nobody knows for sure, but they do know he had severe mental problems. It seems he thought someone was trying to control him through his mind. So he obtained a legal permit, and a legal weapon, and killed a 7-year-old girl. Nobody knows why. Nobody will ever know why.

I know many will say this is not a gun issue, it’s a mental health issue. In a way, of course, that’s correct. But the point doesn’t mean much. We’re told instead of having any kind of gun legislation, we should address mental health. But really, how are we going to do that? Ignoring the practicalities of it, think how much it would cost to address the mental health of every American who needs it. Where is that money going to come from? The people in government who tell us we should address it, are the same ones who will never ever vote to pay for it. Or maybe instead of worrying about every single American, we only deal with the ones who want to buy guns? No, those people vote against that as well. In other words, saying “it’s a mental health issue” is a good way to direct the attention from guns, without ever having to do anything.

But back to the first paragraph, I honestly don’t know how to prevent things like this. I’m not an anti-gun guy by any means. I don’t think we should outlaw all firearms. But I do know that America has a huge gun violence problem.

I don’t want the government to arbitrarily impose some solution to this problem. But here’s what I do want. I want to be able to discuss it. Really, that’s what I want; to be able to discuss it. Without the hatred and name-calling that normally goes along with it. I want to be able to look at meaningful ways to deal with it. I want it to move away from things like the facebook posts, which do more harm than good. And as with any honest discussion, all options should be considered, not matter how far “right” or “left” they are.

An honest discussion. That’s all I want. It won’t fix anything, at first. And we'll never stop the problem completely. But maybe, just maybe, if we as a nation can discuss it like reasonable adults, just maybe we can come up with some solutions that will help with the problem, without shredding the second amendment. An honest discussion: is that too much to ask? Unfortunately, I think I know that answer. Realistically, getting gun control zealots to sit down and talk with the likes of the NRA is probably never going to happen. In the same way, I'm pretty sure any pro-gun person who started reading this blog, didn't get past the first paragraph. Because they don't want to hear anything that might even approach "gun control." So chances aren't good. But hey, maybe, hopefully, I’m wrong.

It sure would be nice if we didn't have to read about tragedies such as Emma Nowling.

Time Flies When You're Sixty

Think back to when you were a little kid, when Christmas trees were big, and your back yard was gigantic. Now think what it was like waiting for some special holiday, like your birthday, or Christmas. Remember how it seemed to take forever to get here? Then once it was past, it was almost a lifetime till it returned. Or remember summer vacations, which really did seem endless?

Well, how about now? Christmas will be here in about a month, but last Christmas really doesn't seem that long ago. And summers? To a working teacher, as I once was, they go by in a heartbeat.

Time definitely passes differently when you're older. Personally, I think it's a proportional type of thing. In other words, when you're six, it takes one sixth of your lifetime to become seven. And when you're sixty, it takes one sixth of your lifetime to become seventy. Since I'm 60, the next ten years of my life will seem as long to me, as one year did when I was six. A little scary I think.

OK, that's a pretty subjective thing, but I'm sure you get the idea. So we look at things differently from when we were younger. For instance, a girl in her twenties told me recently that she might change jobs “in eight or ten years.” Nobody in her sixties would make that statement. Because to someone in her twenties, she has her whole life ahead of her. And it seems to stretch out in front of her forever. So she can afford to take her time on things. I remember when I was twenty. Yes, I knew I would eventually get old and die, but it never concerned me, because it was SO far in the future, it was something I just didn’t have to think about.

But when you’re older, things are different. At least for me. While I don’t dwell on it, my own mortality is now something I understand. While I hopefully still have a lot of years ahead of me, I know it’s not forever.

Honestly, it’s something of a paradox. Since I’m retired, I have all kinds of time. As a recently retired friend of mine said a while back, “I have a lot to do today. But if I don’t get it done, I’ll do it tomorrow.” That was something we couldn’t say when we were working full time. So yeah, I can do things without hurrying them, because Monday is just like Sunday.

But in a larger sense, rather than slowing down, I’m in a hurry. I don’t think God is done with me yet, and I don’t want to just sorta fade away, at least not yet. So while I have lots of time in each week, I don’t have as much time in my lifetime. And I don’t want to waste it. So as each day goes by, I want to keep moving. If I’m going to start something that’s a big deal, I don’t want to think about it for a year or eight or ten. I want to get on it. Because I don’t know how much longer I have. And what I do have, I don’t want to waste.

The other thing I have noticed, is that I now never say things like “I can’t wait till such and such is over.” I used to say that about the school year, or the winter, or any number of other things. I just tried to wish all that time away. But as I get older, I value the time more. I'm not going to wish one second of it away.

 It’s too bad I had to get old to really appreciate the time I have.

Cam, Aaron, and Kids

I saw a video the other day about Cam Newton, the quarterback of the NFL Carolina Panthers. After he scored a touchdown recently, somehow a defensive player got the football. Cam asked for the football back. I couldn’t figure why he wanted the football, since he scores lots of touchdowns. Well, the defensive player was pretty pissed off, so he just threw the football the other way. Then, instead of arguing, Cam chased the football down, picked it up, ran over to the stands, and handed the football to some little kid. Cam didn’t want the football for himself; instead he wanted to give it away. And apparently, Cam always gives the football to some young fan in the stands. Pretty cool, actually.

Now, I have no idea if Cam is really a good guy or not. Maybe he just does that for show, but I’m guessing not. I think he realizes what a big deal it is for a kid to get a football. But he also knows it’s a lot cooler when he or she gets it from an NFL quarterback. Each kid who gets that will probably remember it for the rest of his life.

When I saw that, it made me remember an athlete I once knew, back almost twenty years ago. Aaron Lawniczak was one of the best athletes Eastwood High School ever had. But his life ended way too soon as he was tragically killed in an auto accident just a few days before he was to start college at BGSU. That was a tough one to take. Aaron was an amazing basketball player, and an even better baseball player. I remember the first time he pitched a game, as a freshman, he threw a no-hitter. And I remember him scoring over 30 points a game in basketball his senior year. He was about to enter BGSU on a full athletic scholarship when the accident happened.

But why did Cam remind me of Aaron? Because of a basketball game I went to during his senior year. At Eastwood, when the players are introduced, they run around the edge of the gym floor, slapping the hands of all the Eastwood students who come down to the floor. That night, most players ran through quickly, slapping lots of hands, then running back onto the court, eager to get the game started. But I watched Aaron, and he was different. Sure, he greeted all the students, but I could tell he was being especially careful to slap the hand of every little kid he could. It took him a little longer, but he made a lot of kids happy.

I was Aaron’s physics teacher, and I had a pretty good relationship with him. So I talked to Aaron in school a few days after the game, and I mentioned what he did. He said that yes, he did take time to do that. Because he realized that, while he was only a high school player, to those little kids, he was pretty famous. He knew they looked up to him, and he didn’t want to let them down. Now how cool was that? Aaron had all the skills that could have made him an arrogant jerk. But instead, he was humble and kind. Aaron knew he wasn’t really famous, but I was impressed that he understood that kids would look at him as a role model, and he took that role seriously. I was proud of him then, and all these years later, I still am.

So when I found out Cam Newton gives the football away as he does, I realized that is something Aaron would have done in the same situation. It made me sad to remember Aaron, but it also made me smile a little.

Maybe I’ll start rooting for the Panthers…at least a little.

Glass, Plastic, PBR, and Other Stuff

So this evening, I took a shower. I had been crawling in the utility room attic with lots of insulation, and I itched pretty bad. So I took a shower, and took a mug of beer in with me. (What? You’ve never had beer in the shower? Really? Well, you should!)

Anyway, my shower has a shelf that’s just perfect for beer. But as I set the beer mug down, I thought “I hope it doesn’t fall, and break.” Which got me to thinking. I remember back when I was much much younger, we didn’t have plastic items like we do today. And if I remember right, most things came in glass bottles. Like ketchup, salad dressing, and yes, shampoo. And if you dropped it, probably in a cast iron tub, it shattered all over. Then you had to deal with the tiny shards of glass. Well, you get the idea. Now, if you drop the shampoo, you pick it up. That’s all. Isn’t life today wonderful?

Which got me thinking about grocery stores back in the day. My first real job was at Kroger’s. And I started thinking how cool it would be if I could go back in time (OK, I know that’s not realistic, but just go with it here.) and see what it was like. First of all, while I thought it was a big store, by today’s standards, it was tiny. The Kroger’s in PC has moved/expanded twice since then, each time getting much larger. But even the current one is tiny compared to the one in Perrysburg, which is getting replaced as we speak with an even larger one.  I remember some of the aisles (Aisle 3 comes to mind) that you had trouble getting two carts down them side by side. And aisle 3 had a pole in the middle, just to make it harder. (I also remember that matches were right by that pole. Not sure why I remember that.)

But I don’t think there was much plastic. I remember when I was working there, they just came out with plastic milk cartons. You could still get the paper ones for a dime less. (can you imagine trying to pour out of a paper gallon carton? Wonder we didn’t spill milk every time.) But most other things were still in glass.

It’s easy to look back at the “old days” and think they were better, but I'm not so sure.

I also remember that we closed at 9 PM. Really. And closed on Sunday. Although sometime during my career at Kroger’s, they started experimenting with Sunday hours. Paid us double time. Cool! I also remember that we all hated working 4 to 9 on Friday, because back in the day, everyone seemed to do their grocery shopping either Friday night or Saturday morning. Really, how did we ever get anything done back then? Most stores closed at 5 most days. Not like today, when you can do your grocery shopping at 3 AM (And yes, I have done that, and yes, it’s a strange crowd.)

I also remembered I got paid $1.82.5 per hour. (yes, really it was half a cent). Doesn’t sound like much, but then I could stop at Bell Mell’s and get a Blue Ribbon for 40 cents.  Not sure how that translates to today, but it occurs to me that, instead of fighting over the minimum wage, maybe we should adopt the PBR rule. Make the minimum wage 4 and a half times what the average cost of a Blue Ribbon is in the area. There, problem solved: no bickering, complaining, or name calling! That’s simple, fluid, and somehow seems fair.

Ok, that’s enough rambling. Sometimes blogs are just stupid thoughts. Actually, most times MY blogs are just stupid thoughts. And if you’re still reading now, I’m not sure if I’m grateful to you, or feel sorry for you. Not sure. But I know that, as I approach 60. (Yes, SIXTY! How did I get so old??)  I find myself with an odd mix of thoughts. Many of them, like this, look back at the old days. But many of them still look forward with anticipation and wonder, as if I’m going to live forever.

A little odd, but that’s probably how it should be.

A Tale of Two Bumper Stickers

Today I saw this bumper sticker on someone’s van. I understand why he had it. He’s a hardworking carpenter, works a million hours a day and is by no means rich. So yeah, of course he’s annoyed when his hard earned income goes to lazy people who don’t want to work. Yeah, I understand it… to a point.

Because then I saw this bumper sticker.

OK, actually I didn’t see that bumper sticker. I made it up. But there is some sense to it. Because as much as it galls me to give my money to someone who doesn’t deserve it, it’s something we have to do. Assuming we’re Christians. You see, as I understand Jesus’ teachings, it seemed pretty important to him to take care of the poor.

But what about the lazy ones, the ones who just live to get a free ride? Well, first of all, I’m pretty sure those people are pretty rare. Most people on public assistance have a legitimate reason. And besides, I don’t remember Jesus telling us to take care of the poor “except for the ones who are lazy.” No, that’s not in the Bible. Pretty sure.

Of course, America has no official religion. And I will be the first to admit that we should not base our laws and policies on the Bible. We should, of course, base them at least partially on compassion, because we are Americans, and we like to think Americans are good people. On the Statue of Liberty, the inscription reads” Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses, yearning to breath free.” Don’t we still feel that way? Or do we just expect those poor to all find jobs and make plenty of money?

But I still get it. Do we really want the government spending all that money, when there seems to be so much waste? I don't like that either, but honestly, nobody else will do it. There was a day when churches and other groups could keep up with helping the poor. We all know that day is long gone, unfortunately. Churches are having trouble now just paying their own bills.

Jesus never said it would be easy to follow him. In fact, many many times he said it would be very difficult, probably something we won’t always want to do. So if it is hard to give your hard earned money to those who don’t have as much, well, it shouldn’t be a surprise.

He never said it would be easy.

You CAN Go Home Again

But it will be different.

Recently, I moved back home. And by home, I really mean it. Not just the town I grew up in, but the same exact house, the one I lived in till I was twelve. So far, it’s been an experience, mostly good.

All my adult life I had always said that there was absolutely no way I would move back to Port Clinton. Not that there’s anything wrong with the town, but I just didn’t want to go back. I knew that I would always be “Warren Morgan’s son” or “Jeff Morgan’s brother.” I would never have my own identity. Besides, I had spent most of my adult life forming friendships in Pemberville; why would I want to start all over? We all know that you can’t go home again.

But I did it. And I found out that actually, yes, you can go home again, but it won’t be the same. Because in Port Clinton, nobody knows me. Nobody has a grudge against me because their kid didn’t get to run varsity, or because their kid flunked chemistry. Of course, nobody is grateful to me because of how much their child benefited from my classes or sports either. Honestly, nobody has preconceived notions about me, because they just plain don’t know me. And “Warren Morgan’s son?” That doesn’t happen much. “Jeff Morgan’s brother?” Yeah, that happens quite a bit. But Jeff is well respected and liked in this town, as he should be, so that association only helps me. Am I in his shadow? Probably to some, but while that may have bothered me many years ago, it just doesn’t make any difference to me today. I’m living my own life, as my own person, and I get to make new impressions on people. When people find out I can sing, play piano, run, write, or even paint, it's fun.

And I find that all these new things are OK, even enjoyable. When I started going back to the church I grew up in, forty years later nobody knew me. But there was a group I got involved with there, that listened to me, talked to me, and accepted me for what I am now, not because of what I was as a teacher, coach, or any other aspect of my life. They accepted me for me, the good and the bad, which I found very gratifying.

And while not common, there are still some who know me only as my parents’ son. And I’ve found that is actually a good thing. Everyone loved my mom, and while Dad had his share of friends and enemies, most people respected him. And, knowing human nature, I’ve been surprised to find out that I’m accepted as my own person, no matter what.

There are weird things of course. It’s still weird that the movie theater is a plumbing shop, that Kroger’s is out of town, that two of my schools no longer exist, and that downtown is pretty much unrecognizable. (With the exception of Green’s Drug Store, which is pretty much exactly as it was, with even the same sign.) And I still associate all the homes in the neighborhood with my friends who lived in them 50 years ago.

Do I miss Pemberville? Yes, of course. It’s a good town, and I miss my friends there, my church, all kinds of things. Seeing all the facebook posts about the fair and the 5 miler was hard. But true friends are still friends even if I don’t see them as often. And I’ve rekindled some very old friendships here, which I've found gratifying.

Of course, then there’s this. Recently an older woman in my church asked me if I was “Warren and Thec’s son.” When I told her I was, her response was “Well, bless your heart.” Somehow, I really liked that.

I never thought that would feel so good.