I have long had a deep appreciation for Latter-Day Saint hymns. I frequently sing hymns, play them on the piano, listen to them, or even just replay them in my head.
The messages of many hymn lyrics are spiritually profound. Hymn tunes alone often seem to carry a sense of the sacred. The combination of a hymn’s lyrics and tune can carry a spiritual message to the soul that exceeds the sum of the parts. Sometimes that can be a soul healing balm. Other times it may be a witness of truth or a motivation to do right.
One of my favorite hymn listening experiences is when a woman in our ward (congregation) and a man from a nearby ward team up to play a piano-violin duet hymn medley. Choirs can be enjoyable to hear as well.
But best of all is listening to my little daughter sing sacred songs. She has loved to sing since she was very young. She frequently spontaneously sings wherever she happens to be. Most often, her songs are children’s sacred songs. Almost every night you can hear her sing herself to sleep after bedding down for the night. It is a precious and sacred experience to be a dad listening on the other side of the door.
While I derive strength from listening to hymns, it is even more impactful for me to sing or play hymns myself. The action oriented, first person nature of this activity is soul enveloping.
While I love many LDS hymns, I must admit that there are a few that I find rather odd. At the beginning of family home evening each week, we sing a hymn from the LDS hymnal. We began years ago with hymn #1. Each week we advance to the next hymn number. Sometimes we repeat a hymn if the family has found it especially difficult. We have run through the entire book a couple of times, so we have sung every one of the 341 hymns in the book.
If I had to guess, I’d suppose that most active LDS adults that live in the most populous areas of church membership are very familiar with about 50 hymns. They probably have some familiarity with another 50 and can recognize more. But I’d bet that most of them would be very surprised at some of the songs in the book.
Every once in a while our family comes across a hymn that we’re certain is in the book only because it was written by a church general authority, a member of the church music committee, or a relative of one of these. Seriously, there is a reason that you never hear some of these hymns. Sometimes it may be due to the tune and other times the lyrics (or both in some unfortunate situations).
Conversely, we have come upon a few hymns I have never heard in any meeting that seem to be wonderful both in word and tune. Other decent hymns are seldom sung. My kids think that songs like Raise Your Voices to the Lord (two short two-line verses), Cast Thy Burden upon the Lord (one verse), When Faith Endures (one verse), and Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow (one verse) ought to be sung more often.
Not every hymn is intended for congregational singing. Some, such as What Was Witnessed in the Heavens? are suited only to talented choirs. You never hear some tunes because they are too complex for the average accompanist to play. (Some composers seem to have been competing to jam the maximum number of accidentals into a hymn.) Other hymns come from a musical era that has fallen out of style.
There are hymns that I am sure others love that I can’t stand. The tune to Come unto Him drives me nuts. The lyrics are beautiful. But I can’t listen to the tune without hearing it played on a circus calliope in my head. A friend of mine detests Who’s on the Lord’s Side? because the tune sounds like a seafaring ditty. He says that every time he hears it, he expects to see Popeye come floating by in his boat with his pipe clenched in his teeth. (Toot, toot!)
Another friend dislikes If You Could Hie to Kolob because it’s dreary and continually repeats the phrase, “There is no end to ….” She quips, “There is no end to this song!” Father, This Hour Has Been One of Joy is set to one of the least joyful tunes I have ever heard. In fact, there’s a whole section of dreary hymns that sound like music designed to induce depression. (Are those really necessary?)
Some hymns with nice lyrics but unpleasant tunes can be redeemed by singing them to the tune of another hymn. Each hymn has a meter. The tunes of hymns that share the same meter are interchangeable. Switching the tune and lyrics of two familiar hymns can add variety. For example, you can sing the lyrics of Sing We Now At Parting to the tune of Onward, Christian Soldiers. Look at the meter section of the hymnal and try mixing and matching hymn tunes at home. Even some hymns with mismatched meters can be mixed. You can sing the lyrics of Joseph Smith’s First Prayer to the tune of Jesus, Lover of My Soul.
While sacred matters should be treated with appropriate demeanor, I must admit that our family is not above occasionally poking fun at certain hymns. Truth Reflects upon our Senses is a running joke in our home for two reasons.
When I was a kid, every time we sang this song, the voices of two older widows in the ward could be heard above the congregation. These wonderful sisters probably had beautiful voices years earlier. But age had taken its toll to the point that they sounded an awful lot like cats in heat. Also, their vocal training had come in an age when sliding from note to note was popular. People singing like that are sure to hit the actual note at some point, albeit, briefly. I loved these ladies, but their singing grated. And it never grated worse than when singing Truth Reflects.
Then there’s the rhyming problem. The hymn’s lyricist, Eliza R. Snow was a renowned LDS poet. But even for a Massachusetts native, the rhyming of some of the lines of the third verse is strained beyond recognition. I’ve never been able to make “mote” and “out” rhyme. Likewise with “dim” and “beam.” It is not uncommon for members of our family to joke about having a bim in their eye or seeing a supporting bim in a construction project.
One recent Sunday when singing this hymn, my teenage son glanced slyly at me sideways along the bench and sang, “Once I said unto another, in thine eye there is a mote. If thou art a friend and brother, hold and let me pull it ote.” I held my composure. He then sang, “But I could not see it fairly for my sight was very dim. When I came to search more clearly, in mine eye there was a bim.” I chuckled right in the middle of the song.
I like some hymns better than others. I suspect that most other worshippers feel the same way. But I usually count it a blessing to sing even those hymns I don’t particularly care for. I am grateful for talented and willing accompanists. I have often taken my turn as music director, but in wards like mine a director is hardly needed. The congregation follows the organist.
The current edition of the LDS Hymn book was published in 1985, so it is a quarter century old this year. The previous edition came out in 1948/1950, some 35+ years earlier. A lot of sacred LDS music has been written since 1985, but given the track record, I assume that it will be quite a while before a new LDS hymnal is published. In the meantime, the hymns in the 1985 edition will continue to bring peace and joy to me and hopefully to many others.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Monday, February 15, 2010
Our Scout Flag Fundraising Project
Our local Boy Scout troop runs a perpetual patriotic fundraiser that is employed by many troops in our area. Scouts sell subscriptions to place an American flag on the subscriber’s property on certain patriotic holidays each year.
I was serving in the sponsoring institution’s leadership at the time this fundraiser was proposed a number of years ago. Mine was one of the voices against the plan. But that turned out to be the minority opinion. So the fundraiser went forward.
The cost of an annual subscription must be minimized, while the net revenue from the operation must be maximized. This usually means getting cheap flags and poles. In our case, as is the case with every other similar project that I know of, cheap lightweight flags are permanently attached to 8’ pieces of ¾” diameter PVC pipe using plastic cinch strips. A short piece of rebar is pounded into the parking strip, and the end of the pipe is placed over the rebar.
One of my objections to this project had to do with the fact that it didn’t seem to teach proper respect for our nation’s flag. According to the U.S. Flag Code, §176(e), “The flag should never be fastened, displayed, used, or stored in such a manner as to permit it to be easily torn, soiled, or damaged in any way.” Rolling the flag around a piece of PVC, and chucking it into the back of a truck strikes me as less than complete compliance with the code.
The way the project works in our troop, new subscribers pay $30 for the first year. Returning subscribers pay $25 annually. The $5 surcharge for new subscribers is meant to cover the cost of materials. Scouts put the flags up on 10 holidays annually. That’s a cost of $2.50 (or $3) per day. The proceeds are used to help defray the cost of the troop’s annual weeklong summer camp.
After my oldest son entered the troop, we got to where we started to hate certain holidays. The flags had to be put up around sunrise and then taken down around sunset on these days. It put a crimp on family activities.
We had a large troop back then. The practice was for boys to show up at the scoutmaster’s house early in the morning. The flags were usually divided between two or three vehicles, which ferried the flags and the boys around to do the setup. The process was repeated in reverse in the evening. Sometimes there weren’t many helpers. Families often go away on these holidays. My son/s was/were gone for 60-90 minutes each of these mornings and 60-90 minutes each of these evenings.
The scoutmaster divided the total amount of annual subscriptions (less the cost of new and replacement equipment) by 10 to get the amount allotted to each holiday. That amount was divided equally among the boys that showed up to do the work each time. Frequently this meant that my sons earned less than $5 for three hours of work.
That didn’t seem like a very good deal. With revenue that low, why not just put up the flags as a cost-free service? After all, my sons could earn better wages toward camp by mowing lawns and cleaning cars in the neighborhood.
The troop and the sponsoring institution have gone through leadership changes since then. There have been other changes too. The troop has half the number of boys, for one thing. The current scoutmaster only issues and receives flags. He does not participate in putting them up or taking them down.
This new method is far more family friendly. Each Scout signs up for a specific flag route that covers about 10 homes. The Scout and his family are responsible for picking the flags up the evening prior to the holiday, setting them up in the morning, taking them down late in the day, and getting the flags back to the scoutmaster.
(Yes, I know that a troop with a fully functional troop committee would handle this stuff so that the scoutmaster could deal with his central duties. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the ideal situation?)
The process now takes about 20 minutes in the morning and about 20 minutes in the evening. Parents bear the cost of using their own vehicles, but there is no waiting around for others to show up. Each Scout has a stewardship over a specific route. This is much better than doing the setup and takedown en masse.
Given the number of subscribers, each boy currently earns $10 for setup and $10 for takedown. So each Scout can earn $20 per patriotic holiday. If it’s a holiday when lots of Scouts are gone, an enterprising boy might be able to pick up an extra route, thus earning $40 that day for a little over an hour of work.
One drawback recently came to light. The troop recently grew by three boys. No boys will move out of the troop until the end of summer. The scoutmaster believes that it would be counterproductive to rework the routes and pay rates for such a temporary change, when it looks like the troop roster will stabilize after that for a long time.
So, for the next few months, there will be competition between the boys to get a route. The scoutmaster says he will likely end up rotating the routes to provide for equal opportunity. That means that some boys will have to come up with more money on their own to pay for camp. I suppose that’s not such a bad thing.
Even though the scoutmaster doesn’t do the setup or takedown of the flags any more, administering the project can still be burdensome. Someone has to be there to distribute the flags, look to make sure they get put up, and then receive the flags back into storage. Ah, the sacrifices one makes to be a scoutmaster.
Regarding my fears about disrespecting the American flag, I guess I’ve learned that there is a tradeoff. You don’t want a boy to be casual about handling the flag. But having them put up and take down a number of flags 10 times annually over several years can instill some patriotic values that might not be learned otherwise. Still, I have noticed that in an effort to maximize profits, the troop is sometimes slow to replace flags that get worn or soiled.
Over the years I have learned that the Scout flag fundraiser can provide an overall good experience. Or not — depending on how it is handled.
I was serving in the sponsoring institution’s leadership at the time this fundraiser was proposed a number of years ago. Mine was one of the voices against the plan. But that turned out to be the minority opinion. So the fundraiser went forward.
The cost of an annual subscription must be minimized, while the net revenue from the operation must be maximized. This usually means getting cheap flags and poles. In our case, as is the case with every other similar project that I know of, cheap lightweight flags are permanently attached to 8’ pieces of ¾” diameter PVC pipe using plastic cinch strips. A short piece of rebar is pounded into the parking strip, and the end of the pipe is placed over the rebar.
One of my objections to this project had to do with the fact that it didn’t seem to teach proper respect for our nation’s flag. According to the U.S. Flag Code, §176(e), “The flag should never be fastened, displayed, used, or stored in such a manner as to permit it to be easily torn, soiled, or damaged in any way.” Rolling the flag around a piece of PVC, and chucking it into the back of a truck strikes me as less than complete compliance with the code.
The way the project works in our troop, new subscribers pay $30 for the first year. Returning subscribers pay $25 annually. The $5 surcharge for new subscribers is meant to cover the cost of materials. Scouts put the flags up on 10 holidays annually. That’s a cost of $2.50 (or $3) per day. The proceeds are used to help defray the cost of the troop’s annual weeklong summer camp.
After my oldest son entered the troop, we got to where we started to hate certain holidays. The flags had to be put up around sunrise and then taken down around sunset on these days. It put a crimp on family activities.
We had a large troop back then. The practice was for boys to show up at the scoutmaster’s house early in the morning. The flags were usually divided between two or three vehicles, which ferried the flags and the boys around to do the setup. The process was repeated in reverse in the evening. Sometimes there weren’t many helpers. Families often go away on these holidays. My son/s was/were gone for 60-90 minutes each of these mornings and 60-90 minutes each of these evenings.
The scoutmaster divided the total amount of annual subscriptions (less the cost of new and replacement equipment) by 10 to get the amount allotted to each holiday. That amount was divided equally among the boys that showed up to do the work each time. Frequently this meant that my sons earned less than $5 for three hours of work.
That didn’t seem like a very good deal. With revenue that low, why not just put up the flags as a cost-free service? After all, my sons could earn better wages toward camp by mowing lawns and cleaning cars in the neighborhood.
The troop and the sponsoring institution have gone through leadership changes since then. There have been other changes too. The troop has half the number of boys, for one thing. The current scoutmaster only issues and receives flags. He does not participate in putting them up or taking them down.
This new method is far more family friendly. Each Scout signs up for a specific flag route that covers about 10 homes. The Scout and his family are responsible for picking the flags up the evening prior to the holiday, setting them up in the morning, taking them down late in the day, and getting the flags back to the scoutmaster.
(Yes, I know that a troop with a fully functional troop committee would handle this stuff so that the scoutmaster could deal with his central duties. Wouldn’t it be nice to have the ideal situation?)
The process now takes about 20 minutes in the morning and about 20 minutes in the evening. Parents bear the cost of using their own vehicles, but there is no waiting around for others to show up. Each Scout has a stewardship over a specific route. This is much better than doing the setup and takedown en masse.
Given the number of subscribers, each boy currently earns $10 for setup and $10 for takedown. So each Scout can earn $20 per patriotic holiday. If it’s a holiday when lots of Scouts are gone, an enterprising boy might be able to pick up an extra route, thus earning $40 that day for a little over an hour of work.
One drawback recently came to light. The troop recently grew by three boys. No boys will move out of the troop until the end of summer. The scoutmaster believes that it would be counterproductive to rework the routes and pay rates for such a temporary change, when it looks like the troop roster will stabilize after that for a long time.
So, for the next few months, there will be competition between the boys to get a route. The scoutmaster says he will likely end up rotating the routes to provide for equal opportunity. That means that some boys will have to come up with more money on their own to pay for camp. I suppose that’s not such a bad thing.
Even though the scoutmaster doesn’t do the setup or takedown of the flags any more, administering the project can still be burdensome. Someone has to be there to distribute the flags, look to make sure they get put up, and then receive the flags back into storage. Ah, the sacrifices one makes to be a scoutmaster.
Regarding my fears about disrespecting the American flag, I guess I’ve learned that there is a tradeoff. You don’t want a boy to be casual about handling the flag. But having them put up and take down a number of flags 10 times annually over several years can instill some patriotic values that might not be learned otherwise. Still, I have noticed that in an effort to maximize profits, the troop is sometimes slow to replace flags that get worn or soiled.
Over the years I have learned that the Scout flag fundraiser can provide an overall good experience. Or not — depending on how it is handled.
Monday, February 08, 2010
Government Bureaucrats Aim to Keep Scouts Out of Yellowstone Back Country
At the age of 12 I made my first foray into the back country of Yellowstone National Park with my Boy Scout troop. By age 17, I was guiding Boy Scout troops into the Yellowstone back country as a member of the staff at Camp Loll, which is located about two miles south of the southern border of the park.
Throughout my adult life I have on various occasions hiked into the Yellowstone back country with Boy Scout groups. My oldest two sons have also guided troops on Yellowstone hikes as members of the Camp Loll staff. I have been looking forward to hiking to Union Falls with my #3 son’s troop this summer.
Now, thanks to a bureaucratic response to a Sierra Club lawsuit, my son and thousands of other young Americans may never get an opportunity to enjoy the back country of our nation’s premier national park.
Yellowstone National Park officials have worked closely with the Camp Loll staff for many years to train back country guides, provide marvelous back country experiences to thousands of young Boy Scouts, and help the Scouts minimize impact to this rare and delicate environment. The BSA has not only complied with all requirements, but has taken extra precautions to improve the back country and to minimize impact.
Despite this long and successful partnership between the BSA and the NPS, new rules were recently imposed that would essentially destroy Camp Loll’s back country hiking program. Under the rules, nonprofit group usage of the park’s back country now falls under the auspices of the park’s Concession Management Division (CMD).
With no warning or public input, the CMD has arbitrarily imposed severe limits on the number of Scouts that can hike to the destinations most popular to Camp Loll hikers. Under these rules, thousands of young Americans will be prohibited from experiencing the national heritage that has presumably been preserved for them (per the act that created the park service).
Delose Conner, director of Camp Loll, provides more details on this matter in his own blog post.
There are those that pose as friends of the environment that would turn our nation’s wilderness areas into private reserves for favored groups. In a day when many such groups complain that our youth do not get out into nature enough, some actively work to keep young Americans out of nature.
Our national parks belong to all Americans, not just those with an elitist mindset. It is wrong to prevent those that responsibly use and maintain the back country from enjoying its use. Fortunately, it’s not too late to prevent this tragedy. Timely letters and emails can remedy the problem in time for the upcoming summer season.
Letters should be sent to your congressional representative and your senators, to the superintendent of Yellowstone, and to the head of the park’s CMD. Delose provides addresses in his post. He also provides a copy of the letter he is sending in this post.
Were it not for my involvement in the BSA, I probably would never have ventured into the Yellowstone back country. I would never have experienced the natural wonders of Union Falls and Terraced Falls. I may never have learned proper conservation techniques. Countless others fall into this same category. Don’t let the elitists and the bureaucrats lock our youth out of areas that, as Americans, they have every right to enjoy.
Throughout my adult life I have on various occasions hiked into the Yellowstone back country with Boy Scout groups. My oldest two sons have also guided troops on Yellowstone hikes as members of the Camp Loll staff. I have been looking forward to hiking to Union Falls with my #3 son’s troop this summer.
Now, thanks to a bureaucratic response to a Sierra Club lawsuit, my son and thousands of other young Americans may never get an opportunity to enjoy the back country of our nation’s premier national park.
Yellowstone National Park officials have worked closely with the Camp Loll staff for many years to train back country guides, provide marvelous back country experiences to thousands of young Boy Scouts, and help the Scouts minimize impact to this rare and delicate environment. The BSA has not only complied with all requirements, but has taken extra precautions to improve the back country and to minimize impact.
Despite this long and successful partnership between the BSA and the NPS, new rules were recently imposed that would essentially destroy Camp Loll’s back country hiking program. Under the rules, nonprofit group usage of the park’s back country now falls under the auspices of the park’s Concession Management Division (CMD).
With no warning or public input, the CMD has arbitrarily imposed severe limits on the number of Scouts that can hike to the destinations most popular to Camp Loll hikers. Under these rules, thousands of young Americans will be prohibited from experiencing the national heritage that has presumably been preserved for them (per the act that created the park service).
Delose Conner, director of Camp Loll, provides more details on this matter in his own blog post.
There are those that pose as friends of the environment that would turn our nation’s wilderness areas into private reserves for favored groups. In a day when many such groups complain that our youth do not get out into nature enough, some actively work to keep young Americans out of nature.
Our national parks belong to all Americans, not just those with an elitist mindset. It is wrong to prevent those that responsibly use and maintain the back country from enjoying its use. Fortunately, it’s not too late to prevent this tragedy. Timely letters and emails can remedy the problem in time for the upcoming summer season.
Letters should be sent to your congressional representative and your senators, to the superintendent of Yellowstone, and to the head of the park’s CMD. Delose provides addresses in his post. He also provides a copy of the letter he is sending in this post.
Were it not for my involvement in the BSA, I probably would never have ventured into the Yellowstone back country. I would never have experienced the natural wonders of Union Falls and Terraced Falls. I may never have learned proper conservation techniques. Countless others fall into this same category. Don’t let the elitists and the bureaucrats lock our youth out of areas that, as Americans, they have every right to enjoy.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Social Studies
School was a difficult time for me — especially my elementary and junior high years. Each school has its own micro-culture. And just like any cultural microcosm, the first order of business is to determine the pecking order — the hierarchy of power.
For students, the process of doing that differs somewhat between boys and girls, but it can be fairly brutal for either group. Actually, I think it’s much simpler for boys. Everything is governed according to size, aggressiveness, and athletic ability. As you get older, there is some credit given for academic ability. But sometimes this can even work against a boy with his peers, as he can become regarded as a teacher’s pet — in effect, being labeled as a shill for the wardens.
The rule is pretty straightforward. The boys that win the size-aggression-athlete lottery intimidate, beat on, and treat as inferior and subservient the boys that come up short on this scale. It doesn’t take long for the boys entering Kindergarten to figure out the hierarchy. Move-ins, move-outs, and physical changes can alter the dynamics somewhat over time, but many are permanently relegated to the same approximate classification throughout their school years.
Just being big doesn’t necessarily push you up the scale either. A big boy that is shy and is poor at sports is likely to spend his school years as a member of the disrespected grunt class. From my earliest years, I knew a boy named Joey that was like that.
Being one of the youngest kids in my class — I was more than a year younger than many members of my class — I was perpetually way behind the average in physical development. Moreover, I seem to have come into this world athletically impaired. I was (am) lousy at sports and I was always one of the last to be picked for any kind of team athletic event.
Being good at sports can help overcome being small of stature. I went to school with Ray from first grade on. Although he was smaller than me, he was great at sports. So he ranked among the popular group in the hierarchy.
Early in life I developed an intense aversion to sports that continues to this day. I don’t know how much money you’d have to pay to get me to watch a whole football game from start to end. You’d have to pay me a lot more to watch a baseball game because I find the sport incredibly boring. Aside from the occasional Olympic event, I don’t watch sports unless one of my children is playing.
In some ways, I think girls have it much worse than boys. Their method of deriving a pecking order is far more complex and sometimes more insidious than the male model. There’s a reason that the word “catty” is used in the English language almost exclusively to describe interactions between human females.
There is also a reason that American politics is heavily dominated by men, some notable exceptions notwithstanding. Our nation’s top politicians are rank political amateurs compared to the average eighth grade girl wending her way through the political minefield that makes up the relationship hierarchy among peers. Why reduce oneself to a lower political status?
Boys can be friends one day, have a scuffle the next, and then be pals again the following day. But if girls that are friends have a falling out, they’ll often end up being enemies FOREVER. Boy fights and girl fights also differ. Despite all the stuff about finesse in boxing or martial arts, most boy fights come down to an exchange of a few clumsy blows.
I got in a few ‘fights’ during my school years. I was challenged several times by guys that, I guess, figured I was marginally wimpier than them. There was a lot of pressure not to chicken out of an after school fight, even if you didn’t think there was any reason for fighting.
The only time any of my fights actually came to physical blows was in the fifth grade when a boy named Ken challenged me to a fight with the warning that he and his friends would get me if I failed to show up. To this day, I still don’t understand what it was we were supposed to be fighting about — perhaps just to establish pecking order and nothing else.
Of course, there were other guys there to make sure it all went off. At first, I just kept refusing to fight. I wouldn’t even put my school stuff down. Then Ken came at me and grabbed me in what I guess was supposed to be some kind of wrestling move. In a panicked response, I brought the ukulele I was holding squarely down on Ken’s noggin. About a quarter of the back panel of the instrument broke off. Ken stood back, laughed derisively, and said, “That didn’t hurt!” But in his eyes I could tell otherwise.
Ken and his friends called out some insults. But the fight was over. I went home scared, angry, and confused. But none of those guys ever bothered me again. The broken ukulele still worked for another 10 years.
I still remember the first time I saw two girls at school engaged in a “catfight.” That turned out to be an appropriate name for the activity. I viewed the spectacle on the front lawn of the school as a girl named Cindy and another girl whose name I can’t remember screeched, scratched, hissed, ripped hair, and otherwise acted very much like two cats fighting. It wasn’t pretty, but it was hard to look away.
Being stuck down low on the school social hierarchy can be painful. Being one of the youngest in my class, I was also perpetually developmentally behind the average class member. I can remember sitting in math class in elementary school, watching others around me busily completing their tests, while I sat there without the slightest comprehension of what I was supposed to do on the test. I got used to being stupid in almost every subject.
The situation didn’t improve much during junior high school. But in the last two years of high school, it was as if someone flipped a switch in my head that suddenly made almost everything I worked on highly comprehensible. I earned top grades during those years while hardly ever taking homework home.
For me, school was a place I had to go that was filled with tasks I had to do. Although I occasionally engaged in extracurricular school related activities, I preferred to stay away from the place during off hours. I didn’t get into the social scene at school and I was always eager to leave at the end of the school day.
My wife, on the other hand, found tremendous social fulfillment at school. She still gets together several times each year with a group of women that were schoolmates back in the day. I tolerate attending her high school class reunions, but I avoid attending mine. I didn’t enjoy hanging out with those folks years ago. Why would I want to hang out with them now?
My graduation celebration was rather simple. After turning in our caps and gowns following commencement exercises held in the school’s gym, I went with some friends to dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I then went home because I had to get up early in the morning to go to work.
Before going to bed, I looked through the yearbook. I was surprised to find myself crying and feeling something very strange. I had been engaged in compulsory public education for a dozen years and had endured what for me was a fairly unpleasant social structure. Still, it was as if I was mourning the passing of an era. It was like being at a funeral. How could there be any life worth living beyond what I had known for most of my young life?
But life teaches us some wonderful lessons. One of them is that life goes on even after major milestones. I spent that summer working at a Boy Scout camp in a remote area of the Tetons. By the time I returned at the end of the summer, I was preparing to begin college. Since graduation night those years ago, I have never had even a single moment of pining for my old school days. Of course, given where I was on the social ladder in that culture, there’s little wonder that I’m grateful that those days are long past.
For students, the process of doing that differs somewhat between boys and girls, but it can be fairly brutal for either group. Actually, I think it’s much simpler for boys. Everything is governed according to size, aggressiveness, and athletic ability. As you get older, there is some credit given for academic ability. But sometimes this can even work against a boy with his peers, as he can become regarded as a teacher’s pet — in effect, being labeled as a shill for the wardens.
The rule is pretty straightforward. The boys that win the size-aggression-athlete lottery intimidate, beat on, and treat as inferior and subservient the boys that come up short on this scale. It doesn’t take long for the boys entering Kindergarten to figure out the hierarchy. Move-ins, move-outs, and physical changes can alter the dynamics somewhat over time, but many are permanently relegated to the same approximate classification throughout their school years.
Just being big doesn’t necessarily push you up the scale either. A big boy that is shy and is poor at sports is likely to spend his school years as a member of the disrespected grunt class. From my earliest years, I knew a boy named Joey that was like that.
Being one of the youngest kids in my class — I was more than a year younger than many members of my class — I was perpetually way behind the average in physical development. Moreover, I seem to have come into this world athletically impaired. I was (am) lousy at sports and I was always one of the last to be picked for any kind of team athletic event.
Being good at sports can help overcome being small of stature. I went to school with Ray from first grade on. Although he was smaller than me, he was great at sports. So he ranked among the popular group in the hierarchy.
Early in life I developed an intense aversion to sports that continues to this day. I don’t know how much money you’d have to pay to get me to watch a whole football game from start to end. You’d have to pay me a lot more to watch a baseball game because I find the sport incredibly boring. Aside from the occasional Olympic event, I don’t watch sports unless one of my children is playing.
In some ways, I think girls have it much worse than boys. Their method of deriving a pecking order is far more complex and sometimes more insidious than the male model. There’s a reason that the word “catty” is used in the English language almost exclusively to describe interactions between human females.
There is also a reason that American politics is heavily dominated by men, some notable exceptions notwithstanding. Our nation’s top politicians are rank political amateurs compared to the average eighth grade girl wending her way through the political minefield that makes up the relationship hierarchy among peers. Why reduce oneself to a lower political status?
Boys can be friends one day, have a scuffle the next, and then be pals again the following day. But if girls that are friends have a falling out, they’ll often end up being enemies FOREVER. Boy fights and girl fights also differ. Despite all the stuff about finesse in boxing or martial arts, most boy fights come down to an exchange of a few clumsy blows.
I got in a few ‘fights’ during my school years. I was challenged several times by guys that, I guess, figured I was marginally wimpier than them. There was a lot of pressure not to chicken out of an after school fight, even if you didn’t think there was any reason for fighting.
The only time any of my fights actually came to physical blows was in the fifth grade when a boy named Ken challenged me to a fight with the warning that he and his friends would get me if I failed to show up. To this day, I still don’t understand what it was we were supposed to be fighting about — perhaps just to establish pecking order and nothing else.
Of course, there were other guys there to make sure it all went off. At first, I just kept refusing to fight. I wouldn’t even put my school stuff down. Then Ken came at me and grabbed me in what I guess was supposed to be some kind of wrestling move. In a panicked response, I brought the ukulele I was holding squarely down on Ken’s noggin. About a quarter of the back panel of the instrument broke off. Ken stood back, laughed derisively, and said, “That didn’t hurt!” But in his eyes I could tell otherwise.
Ken and his friends called out some insults. But the fight was over. I went home scared, angry, and confused. But none of those guys ever bothered me again. The broken ukulele still worked for another 10 years.
I still remember the first time I saw two girls at school engaged in a “catfight.” That turned out to be an appropriate name for the activity. I viewed the spectacle on the front lawn of the school as a girl named Cindy and another girl whose name I can’t remember screeched, scratched, hissed, ripped hair, and otherwise acted very much like two cats fighting. It wasn’t pretty, but it was hard to look away.
Being stuck down low on the school social hierarchy can be painful. Being one of the youngest in my class, I was also perpetually developmentally behind the average class member. I can remember sitting in math class in elementary school, watching others around me busily completing their tests, while I sat there without the slightest comprehension of what I was supposed to do on the test. I got used to being stupid in almost every subject.
The situation didn’t improve much during junior high school. But in the last two years of high school, it was as if someone flipped a switch in my head that suddenly made almost everything I worked on highly comprehensible. I earned top grades during those years while hardly ever taking homework home.
For me, school was a place I had to go that was filled with tasks I had to do. Although I occasionally engaged in extracurricular school related activities, I preferred to stay away from the place during off hours. I didn’t get into the social scene at school and I was always eager to leave at the end of the school day.
My wife, on the other hand, found tremendous social fulfillment at school. She still gets together several times each year with a group of women that were schoolmates back in the day. I tolerate attending her high school class reunions, but I avoid attending mine. I didn’t enjoy hanging out with those folks years ago. Why would I want to hang out with them now?
My graduation celebration was rather simple. After turning in our caps and gowns following commencement exercises held in the school’s gym, I went with some friends to dinner at a Mexican restaurant. I then went home because I had to get up early in the morning to go to work.
Before going to bed, I looked through the yearbook. I was surprised to find myself crying and feeling something very strange. I had been engaged in compulsory public education for a dozen years and had endured what for me was a fairly unpleasant social structure. Still, it was as if I was mourning the passing of an era. It was like being at a funeral. How could there be any life worth living beyond what I had known for most of my young life?
But life teaches us some wonderful lessons. One of them is that life goes on even after major milestones. I spent that summer working at a Boy Scout camp in a remote area of the Tetons. By the time I returned at the end of the summer, I was preparing to begin college. Since graduation night those years ago, I have never had even a single moment of pining for my old school days. Of course, given where I was on the social ladder in that culture, there’s little wonder that I’m grateful that those days are long past.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Personal Greatness
In a church meeting I attended yesterday, the speaker asked the attendees to think of those few people they had known that they would consider to be truly great. It didn’t take me long to formulate a quick list. I was actually a bit surprised at the first couple of names that popped into my head.
The speaker then asked us to think about what factors made these people great. He then suggested a point that might be drawn from this exercise. I found that I had thought in quite a different direction. Not an opposing direction; just different.
As a side note, I find that I am less prone to single-threaded thinking than I used to be. It used to be that when I found myself drawing different conclusions than an instructor, I would immediately chide myself and work to correct the discrepancy. I have come to realize, however, that in some cases there is no single correct answer and that there can be value in exploring other thought trails.
I sat and mulled over what it was that made those on my list great. My first thought was that each of these people had taken a personal interest in me and had served me. That is, I had (at least at some point in time) a personal relationship with each of these individuals. Each had demonstrated individual concern for me. Moreover, each one engendered in me a sense of personal value.
But there was something more to it. I thought of others that didn’t make my list that had, nevertheless, helped me comprehend my personal value and with whom I had been close. I realized that each of the individuals on my list had helped me stretch to achieve and become more than I thought was possible for me. Sometimes this meant enduring uncomfortable situations. Each of these individuals had required me to try again when I failed and had been confident of my eventual success.
Still, there seemed to be yet another element that was missing, because I could think of a few for whom I could check both of these first two boxes but that were not on my list of greats. I finally concluded that each of my ‘greats’ had been devoted to a cause that was bigger than themselves. They weren’t sacrificing just to do their duty. They cared about the success of a greater cause.
There are probably other elements at play as well. But, in general I can say that the people on my list of those I have known that have demonstrated personal greatness:
My life has been blessed by association with great individuals. I doubt that any on my list would consider themselves to be possessed of greatness. But that’s just another point in their favor.
The speaker then asked us to think about what factors made these people great. He then suggested a point that might be drawn from this exercise. I found that I had thought in quite a different direction. Not an opposing direction; just different.
As a side note, I find that I am less prone to single-threaded thinking than I used to be. It used to be that when I found myself drawing different conclusions than an instructor, I would immediately chide myself and work to correct the discrepancy. I have come to realize, however, that in some cases there is no single correct answer and that there can be value in exploring other thought trails.
I sat and mulled over what it was that made those on my list great. My first thought was that each of these people had taken a personal interest in me and had served me. That is, I had (at least at some point in time) a personal relationship with each of these individuals. Each had demonstrated individual concern for me. Moreover, each one engendered in me a sense of personal value.
But there was something more to it. I thought of others that didn’t make my list that had, nevertheless, helped me comprehend my personal value and with whom I had been close. I realized that each of the individuals on my list had helped me stretch to achieve and become more than I thought was possible for me. Sometimes this meant enduring uncomfortable situations. Each of these individuals had required me to try again when I failed and had been confident of my eventual success.
Still, there seemed to be yet another element that was missing, because I could think of a few for whom I could check both of these first two boxes but that were not on my list of greats. I finally concluded that each of my ‘greats’ had been devoted to a cause that was bigger than themselves. They weren’t sacrificing just to do their duty. They cared about the success of a greater cause.
There are probably other elements at play as well. But, in general I can say that the people on my list of those I have known that have demonstrated personal greatness:
- Cared about and served me personally.
- Saw more in me than I saw in myself and helped me become better than I thought I could be.
- Were dedicated to a greater cause.
My life has been blessed by association with great individuals. I doubt that any on my list would consider themselves to be possessed of greatness. But that’s just another point in their favor.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Least of These
A few months ago, our family went on vacation to three national parks: Zion, Grand Canyon, and Bryce Canyon. I had never been to Bryce Canyon and none of our children had visited any these three parks. We enjoyed our trip and had the opportunity of interacting with a number of foreign tourists.
During the tourist season (from the beginning of April through the latter part of October), a shuttle system operates in Zion NP “to eliminate traffic and parking problems, protect vegetation, and restore tranquility to Zion Canyon.”
On one of our shuttle rides, I ended up seated directly behind the bus driver with some of the other family members to my right. We sat on a bench that faced a similar bench on the other side of the bus. Across from me sat a fellow that came across as the embodiment of a stereotypical good ol’ southern boy. His drawl, body shape, manner of grooming, and dress all lent to this image.
As the bus started to move, this southern fellow leaned forward and engaged the bus driver in conversation. He talked about how he was traveling around the west and sleeping in the back of his pickup truck. An older couple ended up seated next to this man at the next stop.
Throughout the remainder of the trip, our southern traveling companion went into great detail about his 1988 Toyota pickup truck, his truck’s shell (complete with details of its purchase and installation), his camping setup in the bed of the truck, and various ailments that had necessitated better padding to sleep on.
The bus driver was very kind and accommodating. The rest of us on the two facing benches sat quietly; being careful to avoid looking directly at the man for fear that we would be forced to become active members of his captive audience instead of just playing a passive role.
It was with great relief that I exited the shuttle at our destination. Given that this was an end terminal, almost all riders left the shuttle. We gathered our brood at a large 3D model of the canyon that was placed outside of a service building.
As we looked at the model and noted some of the places we had visited or seen that day, we saw the older couple that had sat across from us approaching in the stream of people passing by. The gentleman stopped and with a twinkle in his eye asked, “Do you now know more about 1988 Toyota pickup trucks than you ever wanted to know?” As we turned toward him, he feigned embarrassment and asked, “You’re not friends of Bubba’s, are you?” We all had a good laugh.
A few minutes later as we drove toward the park entrance, I made some kind of disparaging remark about “Bubba.” My wife didn’t take up my mirthful attitude. Instead, she said that she thought that the bus driver had been very kind. “Bubba,” she said, seemed like a very lonely man. By giving him a willing audience for a few minutes, the bus driver likely helped the man’s day along.
Duly admonished, I thought of the Savior’s teaching in Matthew 25:31-46. At the Judgment, He will send those on His left hand away because they failed to appropriately help Him. They will ask (v44), “Lord, when saw we thee … a stranger … and did not minister unto thee?” He will answer (v45), “Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.”
I realized that I had failed to render to “one of the least of these” aid that I could easily have given — in this case, a simple human kindness of caring concern that likely would have endured only for a short bus ride.
During the tourist season (from the beginning of April through the latter part of October), a shuttle system operates in Zion NP “to eliminate traffic and parking problems, protect vegetation, and restore tranquility to Zion Canyon.”
On one of our shuttle rides, I ended up seated directly behind the bus driver with some of the other family members to my right. We sat on a bench that faced a similar bench on the other side of the bus. Across from me sat a fellow that came across as the embodiment of a stereotypical good ol’ southern boy. His drawl, body shape, manner of grooming, and dress all lent to this image.
As the bus started to move, this southern fellow leaned forward and engaged the bus driver in conversation. He talked about how he was traveling around the west and sleeping in the back of his pickup truck. An older couple ended up seated next to this man at the next stop.
Throughout the remainder of the trip, our southern traveling companion went into great detail about his 1988 Toyota pickup truck, his truck’s shell (complete with details of its purchase and installation), his camping setup in the bed of the truck, and various ailments that had necessitated better padding to sleep on.
The bus driver was very kind and accommodating. The rest of us on the two facing benches sat quietly; being careful to avoid looking directly at the man for fear that we would be forced to become active members of his captive audience instead of just playing a passive role.
It was with great relief that I exited the shuttle at our destination. Given that this was an end terminal, almost all riders left the shuttle. We gathered our brood at a large 3D model of the canyon that was placed outside of a service building.
As we looked at the model and noted some of the places we had visited or seen that day, we saw the older couple that had sat across from us approaching in the stream of people passing by. The gentleman stopped and with a twinkle in his eye asked, “Do you now know more about 1988 Toyota pickup trucks than you ever wanted to know?” As we turned toward him, he feigned embarrassment and asked, “You’re not friends of Bubba’s, are you?” We all had a good laugh.
A few minutes later as we drove toward the park entrance, I made some kind of disparaging remark about “Bubba.” My wife didn’t take up my mirthful attitude. Instead, she said that she thought that the bus driver had been very kind. “Bubba,” she said, seemed like a very lonely man. By giving him a willing audience for a few minutes, the bus driver likely helped the man’s day along.
Duly admonished, I thought of the Savior’s teaching in Matthew 25:31-46. At the Judgment, He will send those on His left hand away because they failed to appropriately help Him. They will ask (v44), “Lord, when saw we thee … a stranger … and did not minister unto thee?” He will answer (v45), “Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.”
I realized that I had failed to render to “one of the least of these” aid that I could easily have given — in this case, a simple human kindness of caring concern that likely would have endured only for a short bus ride.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Current Freedom Recession
2009 brought us the fourth consecutive year of a ‘freedom recession.’ So says Freedom House, an independent non-profit organization that “advocates for democracy and human rights.”
Freedom House has been producing reports on human freedom since the 1950s. It registered its first Freedom in the World report in 1972. The methodology behind the report notes that it is necessarily somewhat subjective, but employs a fairly rigorous framework. The checklist used helps provide an understanding of what lies behind the organization’s rankings.
Freedom House measures freedom “according to two broad categories: political rights and civil liberties.” The organization’s website states:
The continent that saw the most freedom declines was Africa. “…virtually all of the countries in the non-Baltic former Soviet Union continued to pursue a repressive course….” Latin America saw its share of problems too. The continent with the most freedom gains was Asia.
A perusal of the rankings of independent countries and the table of political rights and civil liberties by country are intriguing. (The lower the score, the more freedom enjoyed.) I note that some of the nations listed as most free suffered under intense communist repression a mere two decades ago. So there is hope yet.
46 percent of the world’s population is judged to be free. 20 percent is “partly free.” The rest; more than “2.3 billion people live in societies where fundamental political rights and civil liberties are not respected.” Moreover, it seems to me that we have entered into a phase where the freer nations of the world are content to let those billions languish in the name of maintaining a chimera of peace. No doubt this results at least somewhat from a backlash against the adventurism of the past decade.
Anyone can set up a standard to measure anything. No one is obliged to accept anyone’s judgment on a given matter unless agreement exists on the standard employed and its implementation. Some that earnestly promote human liberty would likely have a different system that would produce different results. Measured against a more exacting standard of freedom from undue coercive influence, many of the nations ranked by FH as best would rank as needing improvement. Some of these nations pursue serious anti-liberty agendas.
I suppose that most people in FH’s most free countries would agree, however, that the report at least provides appreciable levels of differentiation. For example, the average person in Micronesia enjoys more freedom than her counterpart in Ecuador, who enjoys more freedom than the average person in Oman, who enjoys more freedom than most in North Korea. Perhaps most citizens of FH’s least free nations would also agree, but that would be impossible to find out.
Freedom House has been producing reports on human freedom since the 1950s. It registered its first Freedom in the World report in 1972. The methodology behind the report notes that it is necessarily somewhat subjective, but employs a fairly rigorous framework. The checklist used helps provide an understanding of what lies behind the organization’s rankings.
Freedom House measures freedom “according to two broad categories: political rights and civil liberties.” The organization’s website states:
“The survey does not rate governments or government performance per se, but rather the real-world rights and freedoms enjoyed by individuals. Thus, while Freedom House considers the presence of legal rights, it places a greater emphasis on whether these rights are implemented in practice. Furthermore, freedoms can be affected by government officials, as well as by nonstate actors, including insurgents and other armed groups.”As noted in this press release, 2009 was the fourth year in a row where “global declines in freedom outweighed gains.” Some nations rolled back recent gains. Also, “the most powerful authoritarian regimes have become more repressive, more influential in the international arena, and more uncompromising.”
The continent that saw the most freedom declines was Africa. “…virtually all of the countries in the non-Baltic former Soviet Union continued to pursue a repressive course….” Latin America saw its share of problems too. The continent with the most freedom gains was Asia.
A perusal of the rankings of independent countries and the table of political rights and civil liberties by country are intriguing. (The lower the score, the more freedom enjoyed.) I note that some of the nations listed as most free suffered under intense communist repression a mere two decades ago. So there is hope yet.
46 percent of the world’s population is judged to be free. 20 percent is “partly free.” The rest; more than “2.3 billion people live in societies where fundamental political rights and civil liberties are not respected.” Moreover, it seems to me that we have entered into a phase where the freer nations of the world are content to let those billions languish in the name of maintaining a chimera of peace. No doubt this results at least somewhat from a backlash against the adventurism of the past decade.
Anyone can set up a standard to measure anything. No one is obliged to accept anyone’s judgment on a given matter unless agreement exists on the standard employed and its implementation. Some that earnestly promote human liberty would likely have a different system that would produce different results. Measured against a more exacting standard of freedom from undue coercive influence, many of the nations ranked by FH as best would rank as needing improvement. Some of these nations pursue serious anti-liberty agendas.
I suppose that most people in FH’s most free countries would agree, however, that the report at least provides appreciable levels of differentiation. For example, the average person in Micronesia enjoys more freedom than her counterpart in Ecuador, who enjoys more freedom than the average person in Oman, who enjoys more freedom than most in North Korea. Perhaps most citizens of FH’s least free nations would also agree, but that would be impossible to find out.
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Family That Laughs Together
I don’t know about your family, but there are moments when my family gets in pretty high spirits. This kind of thing never happens by design. It sometimes starts with some kind of wisecrack. Or perhaps someone happens to find something said by another to be particularly humorous, even when no comedy was intended.
Such was the case a couple of evenings back. It started with a comment by one child that was taken up by another child with a twist. This chain continued until my oldest son said something that was very funny, but somewhat crude. His brother, thinking it to be one of the funniest things he had ever heard, asked, “Where did you hear that?” The oldest replied, “Dad said that to me once.”
I was standing on a stool in the kitchen looking for something in an upper cabinet. “I don’t remember that,” I retorted. “I remember,” he replied. Another child chimed in, “I remember it because I was there.” The oldest then went on to regale the family with a brief tale of how I had uttered this phrase while meting out correction — when trying to get him to settle down for family prayer, no less.
This brief retelling cannot hope to capture that dynamics of the situation. By the time this interchange was finished, the whole family was in stitches. I was laughing so hard that I couldn’t get breath. I got lightheaded enough that I had to step down from the stool for safety sake.
I’m sure that the situation wasn’t nearly that humorous at the time the correction occurred. But it’s surprising how much comedy a decade of time adds to such events. I also note that something that hadn’t been terribly memorable for me turned out to make quite an impression on my young children.
Once my son recounted the experience, I too remembered it. In fact, one of the reasons I was laughing so hard is that in my mind’s eye I saw my younger self in third person uttering those words with sternness. It was such an incongruous picture that it was impossible to take the intended correction with any degree of seriousness.
I’m grateful that our family can laugh together. It’s part of the glue that binds us together. I hope that we can occasionally still have moments like this two or three decades from now.
Such was the case a couple of evenings back. It started with a comment by one child that was taken up by another child with a twist. This chain continued until my oldest son said something that was very funny, but somewhat crude. His brother, thinking it to be one of the funniest things he had ever heard, asked, “Where did you hear that?” The oldest replied, “Dad said that to me once.”
I was standing on a stool in the kitchen looking for something in an upper cabinet. “I don’t remember that,” I retorted. “I remember,” he replied. Another child chimed in, “I remember it because I was there.” The oldest then went on to regale the family with a brief tale of how I had uttered this phrase while meting out correction — when trying to get him to settle down for family prayer, no less.
This brief retelling cannot hope to capture that dynamics of the situation. By the time this interchange was finished, the whole family was in stitches. I was laughing so hard that I couldn’t get breath. I got lightheaded enough that I had to step down from the stool for safety sake.
I’m sure that the situation wasn’t nearly that humorous at the time the correction occurred. But it’s surprising how much comedy a decade of time adds to such events. I also note that something that hadn’t been terribly memorable for me turned out to make quite an impression on my young children.
Once my son recounted the experience, I too remembered it. In fact, one of the reasons I was laughing so hard is that in my mind’s eye I saw my younger self in third person uttering those words with sternness. It was such an incongruous picture that it was impossible to take the intended correction with any degree of seriousness.
I’m grateful that our family can laugh together. It’s part of the glue that binds us together. I hope that we can occasionally still have moments like this two or three decades from now.
Friday, January 08, 2010
So, Without College Football We'd be Stupider?
I have yet to find a compelling argument for public sponsorship of professional and semi-professional athletics. If these entertainment businesses are worth having, let the customers that are so enamored of them foot the entire bill rather than foisting part of it off onto the taxpaying public. (Incidentally, I’d say the same thing for opera.)
Conservative political pundit George Will takes a shot at defending college football in this article. His comments do not delineate between public and private institutions, so his arguments are not a precise match for my concerns. But there is enough there for me to consider the validity of what he has to say.
Let’s get one thing out of the way right up front. College athletic programs comprise a semi-professional sports industry. As Will admits in his article, the athletes are compensated, albeit; through somewhat indirect methods. Coaching staffs are well paid. Some are very highly paid. There is a broad spectrum of people employed in these programs. Those outside of the colleges that also make money through these programs run the gamut from equipment manufacturers to construction contractors to fast food companies to broadcasters to ticket resellers.
Will pooh-poohs the concerns of those that believe that institutions of higher education have no valid reason to be associated with semi-professional sports. Although I think the marriage of higher education and semi-pro sports to be an odd match, I have no problem with private institutions that don’t use public funding to support their sports habit.
College sports programs bring in a lot of money to many schools. While Will notes that forty percent of Division I football programs lose money, those at the high end of the sixty percent of profitable programs bring in a lot of money. After regaling readers with a list of ways money pours into these programs, Will writes:
Nowhere does Will express any concern over the public money that supports these programs. All he talks about is money from boosters. He suggests that without this money, many colleges would never have grown to their current stature. Educational programs, he seems to claim, owe their very existence to college sports. Will relishes the Bear Bryant quote, “It's kind of hard to rally 'round a math class.”
I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for public colleges and universities to have less stature and more educational quality. Will expresses no curiosity about such matters. He would likely retort that stature and educational quality go hand in hand, despite ample evidence that such correlations are ethereal. I also wonder how much of this fundraising is simply done to build bigger sports programs to raise more funds to build bigger sports programs….
Will is nevertheless correct when he suggests that football programs constitute a meaningful cultural ritual. Although I care not one whit for football, it cannot be denied that it has massive impact on American culture. Many follow it with more religious fervor than they follow their own religions. Perhaps separation of church and state should apply to football as well.
Getting back to my original concerns, it is important to note that sixty percent of Division I football programs are profitable only because of the way the books are kept. With rare exception, these programs never repay any of the public dollars they receive. If these programs had to repay all public money, only a nearly nonexistent fraction of them would be profitable.
The best argument that can be cobbled together from Will’s article in favor of public funding of educationally based semi-pro sports programs is that maybe some of these schools wouldn’t be able to offer the kind of educational programs they currently offer without the public support engendered by the cultural ritual of sports.
In other words, sans publicly funded athletic entertainment, we would choose ignorance over enlightenment. I’m not convinced.
Conservative political pundit George Will takes a shot at defending college football in this article. His comments do not delineate between public and private institutions, so his arguments are not a precise match for my concerns. But there is enough there for me to consider the validity of what he has to say.
Let’s get one thing out of the way right up front. College athletic programs comprise a semi-professional sports industry. As Will admits in his article, the athletes are compensated, albeit; through somewhat indirect methods. Coaching staffs are well paid. Some are very highly paid. There is a broad spectrum of people employed in these programs. Those outside of the colleges that also make money through these programs run the gamut from equipment manufacturers to construction contractors to fast food companies to broadcasters to ticket resellers.
Will pooh-poohs the concerns of those that believe that institutions of higher education have no valid reason to be associated with semi-professional sports. Although I think the marriage of higher education and semi-pro sports to be an odd match, I have no problem with private institutions that don’t use public funding to support their sports habit.
College sports programs bring in a lot of money to many schools. While Will notes that forty percent of Division I football programs lose money, those at the high end of the sixty percent of profitable programs bring in a lot of money. After regaling readers with a list of ways money pours into these programs, Will writes:
“Most of the money that flows into big-time football programs from individuals and corporations is tax-deductible for the spenders, and the universities' athletic programs are not taxed. Congress, however ravenous for revenues, will not dare to change this.”Will has no problem with the fact that many so-called student athletes manage to meet NCAA academic requirements in a somewhat less than forthright manner. This, he asserts, is just a symptom of dumb rules that should be dumped. I’m all for dumping the rules that provide a student façade to semi-pro athletes. Let the naked truth of the matter stand for itself. But I think that if that happened, people like Will would soon want the rules back to provide a chimera of educational legitimacy to cover the ugly exposure of reality.
Nowhere does Will express any concern over the public money that supports these programs. All he talks about is money from boosters. He suggests that without this money, many colleges would never have grown to their current stature. Educational programs, he seems to claim, owe their very existence to college sports. Will relishes the Bear Bryant quote, “It's kind of hard to rally 'round a math class.”
I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for public colleges and universities to have less stature and more educational quality. Will expresses no curiosity about such matters. He would likely retort that stature and educational quality go hand in hand, despite ample evidence that such correlations are ethereal. I also wonder how much of this fundraising is simply done to build bigger sports programs to raise more funds to build bigger sports programs….
Will is nevertheless correct when he suggests that football programs constitute a meaningful cultural ritual. Although I care not one whit for football, it cannot be denied that it has massive impact on American culture. Many follow it with more religious fervor than they follow their own religions. Perhaps separation of church and state should apply to football as well.
Getting back to my original concerns, it is important to note that sixty percent of Division I football programs are profitable only because of the way the books are kept. With rare exception, these programs never repay any of the public dollars they receive. If these programs had to repay all public money, only a nearly nonexistent fraction of them would be profitable.
The best argument that can be cobbled together from Will’s article in favor of public funding of educationally based semi-pro sports programs is that maybe some of these schools wouldn’t be able to offer the kind of educational programs they currently offer without the public support engendered by the cultural ritual of sports.
In other words, sans publicly funded athletic entertainment, we would choose ignorance over enlightenment. I’m not convinced.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
The Business of Being Santa Clause
When I was in my early 20s I was approached by a co-worker who had run a Santa Clause business on the side for a couple of decades. He suggested that I would make a great Santa.
This guy and his wife had been doing this gig for years and knew all the tricks of the trade. For starters, the costumes they had were remarkable. There was a quilted undersuit to make the wearer look much plumper. The main portion of the outersuit was made of industrial grade upholstery fabric. It was soft but durable. The material on the knees and thighs (where kids sit) was double reinforced. The white (fake) fur trim was durable and washable. There was a secret pocket for storing billfold and keys. A broad black leather belt went around the enhanced belly.
The headpiece was worth as much as the whole rest of the outfit. It was made of yak hair anchored in very sturdy stretchy off-white material. The hair was naturally lustrous off white. It could be washed and styled. The beard was hooked into the scalp piece so that it effectively stayed in place if anyone pulled on it; something that happened with regularity. It was actually a bit of a chore to get the headpiece on and off.
The mustache was part of the beard, but it presented a special challenge. While the beard naturally moved with the chin, the mustache had to be adhered to the upper lip with spirit gum. When it was properly in place, the mustache moved much like a real one. The wearer could talk, eat, and drink so that it looked quite natural. But it never felt right. Of all of the bits of the costume, I was always most grateful when I could get the mustache off.
Eyebrows are a special challenge. If you want your own eyebrows to match the costume, you’ve got to color them. Most temporary coloring methods simply look fake. But dying the eyebrows for the Christmas season looked odd when out of costume. Gluing on pieces of yak hair didn’t work well either. I experimented with different things, but never struck on the perfect solution.
It was also necessary to wear makeup to make the small portions of visible skin appear seasoned rather than 20-something years old. A pair of wire rimmed reading spectacles (with no prescription in the lenses) completed the facial ensemble. I wore thin white cotton gloves so that it didn’t matter whether my hands looked old or not.
The black shiny boots appeared to be leather but were actually vinyl. My experienced Santa friend explained that he had converted to such boots because he got tired of getting his feet wet when walking in wet circumstances. The boots were effective in keeping the feet dry even in wet parking lots. A band of fake white fur attached to the top of each boot with the aid of Velcro.
Of course, there was a bag for filling with goodies and slinging over the back. My friend explained how he had shifted from candy canes to plastic Santa rings. The rings last from season to season and are far less fragile than candy canes. Besides, it’s difficult to get candy cane flavors that suit everyone and some parents aren’t thrilled about their kids getting another dose of sugar.
While the costume might have been impressive, the experienced Santa explained that it became useful only to the extent that the wearer was a good actor. He said that the trick he had learned over the years was that he remained in character from the moment he got the outfit on to the moment he began to get out of it.
I rented the suit the first season. Then I used the proceeds from the appointments that I landed to purchase the suit outright.
During the first couple of seasons I learned a lot about how to interact with children and how to manage crowds. Being able to sing and play Christmas songs on the piano was a plus. I was surprised by how many adults insisted on sitting on Santa’s lap. That can be tough, even if they are beautiful women. It is wise to be careful about overscheduling. Both the number of events and the number of people in a day need to be considered.
I had some amazing experiences during the seasons I played Santa. I once stopped by a friend’s home for a surprise visit. His three young boys (who are now fine men) were just getting ready for bed. I have a picture of three wide eyed little boys sitting on my lap. My friend didn’t even know who I was until I called him later.
Once I was driving home from an engagement when I saw some children who had come out onto their front porch in the cold to look at the night sky. On impulse I pulled over, jogged up the driveway, and handed each a Santa ring. They were completely amazed.
Once I got started playing Santa, it wasn’t hard to get appointments. I never had to advertise. Word got around. Some of my favorite engagements were ones where I personally knew the children. It was always great to greet children by name or with personal information. Almost nobody that wasn’t already in on the secret guessed my actual identity. The headpiece held my chin in a way that made me speak differently and I tried hard to take on the Santa persona while in costume.
One problem was that the outfit was very hot. I tried to stay well hydrated, but I occasionally found myself unusually fatigued after events. A few years went by and I was ultimately diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Many people with MS get fatigued when they get too warm. Once I had been diagnosed, I started to understand the episodes of fatigue I had experienced as Santa. My wife and I decided that it was time for me to put an end to my Santa career.
For a few years the outfit sat unused in a closet. Then one year a friend was looking for a Santa suit to use for a church gathering, so I lent him mine. He was such a natural at it, that I eventually gave the suit to him.
As the years have passed, I have come to a somewhat different understanding about playing Santa than I once had. Given the heightened awareness of deviants in our society, I have started to wonder about people that dress up in order to be in close physical contact with children. Their costumes convey a wholesomeness that disarms otherwise cautious parents. Clowns are also problematic. Frankly, clowns have always creeped me out.
Although I enjoyed being a part-time Santa for a few years, I have never deceived my children about the true nature of the whole Santa Clause thing. I have leveled with them about the real St. Nicholas and our modern Santa Clause tradition. My kids have always known that the gifts under the tree come from Mom & Dad, and Grandma & Grandpa rather than from some bizarrely clad intruder. I want them to know that they can trust me to be truthful with them.
I enjoy both our religious and secular Christmastime traditions. I have no problem having fun with the Santa Clause fairy tale. But even if I didn’t have MS, I doubt I’d still be playing Santa nowadays.
This guy and his wife had been doing this gig for years and knew all the tricks of the trade. For starters, the costumes they had were remarkable. There was a quilted undersuit to make the wearer look much plumper. The main portion of the outersuit was made of industrial grade upholstery fabric. It was soft but durable. The material on the knees and thighs (where kids sit) was double reinforced. The white (fake) fur trim was durable and washable. There was a secret pocket for storing billfold and keys. A broad black leather belt went around the enhanced belly.
The headpiece was worth as much as the whole rest of the outfit. It was made of yak hair anchored in very sturdy stretchy off-white material. The hair was naturally lustrous off white. It could be washed and styled. The beard was hooked into the scalp piece so that it effectively stayed in place if anyone pulled on it; something that happened with regularity. It was actually a bit of a chore to get the headpiece on and off.
The mustache was part of the beard, but it presented a special challenge. While the beard naturally moved with the chin, the mustache had to be adhered to the upper lip with spirit gum. When it was properly in place, the mustache moved much like a real one. The wearer could talk, eat, and drink so that it looked quite natural. But it never felt right. Of all of the bits of the costume, I was always most grateful when I could get the mustache off.
Eyebrows are a special challenge. If you want your own eyebrows to match the costume, you’ve got to color them. Most temporary coloring methods simply look fake. But dying the eyebrows for the Christmas season looked odd when out of costume. Gluing on pieces of yak hair didn’t work well either. I experimented with different things, but never struck on the perfect solution.
It was also necessary to wear makeup to make the small portions of visible skin appear seasoned rather than 20-something years old. A pair of wire rimmed reading spectacles (with no prescription in the lenses) completed the facial ensemble. I wore thin white cotton gloves so that it didn’t matter whether my hands looked old or not.
The black shiny boots appeared to be leather but were actually vinyl. My experienced Santa friend explained that he had converted to such boots because he got tired of getting his feet wet when walking in wet circumstances. The boots were effective in keeping the feet dry even in wet parking lots. A band of fake white fur attached to the top of each boot with the aid of Velcro.
Of course, there was a bag for filling with goodies and slinging over the back. My friend explained how he had shifted from candy canes to plastic Santa rings. The rings last from season to season and are far less fragile than candy canes. Besides, it’s difficult to get candy cane flavors that suit everyone and some parents aren’t thrilled about their kids getting another dose of sugar.
While the costume might have been impressive, the experienced Santa explained that it became useful only to the extent that the wearer was a good actor. He said that the trick he had learned over the years was that he remained in character from the moment he got the outfit on to the moment he began to get out of it.
I rented the suit the first season. Then I used the proceeds from the appointments that I landed to purchase the suit outright.
During the first couple of seasons I learned a lot about how to interact with children and how to manage crowds. Being able to sing and play Christmas songs on the piano was a plus. I was surprised by how many adults insisted on sitting on Santa’s lap. That can be tough, even if they are beautiful women. It is wise to be careful about overscheduling. Both the number of events and the number of people in a day need to be considered.
I had some amazing experiences during the seasons I played Santa. I once stopped by a friend’s home for a surprise visit. His three young boys (who are now fine men) were just getting ready for bed. I have a picture of three wide eyed little boys sitting on my lap. My friend didn’t even know who I was until I called him later.
Once I was driving home from an engagement when I saw some children who had come out onto their front porch in the cold to look at the night sky. On impulse I pulled over, jogged up the driveway, and handed each a Santa ring. They were completely amazed.
Once I got started playing Santa, it wasn’t hard to get appointments. I never had to advertise. Word got around. Some of my favorite engagements were ones where I personally knew the children. It was always great to greet children by name or with personal information. Almost nobody that wasn’t already in on the secret guessed my actual identity. The headpiece held my chin in a way that made me speak differently and I tried hard to take on the Santa persona while in costume.
One problem was that the outfit was very hot. I tried to stay well hydrated, but I occasionally found myself unusually fatigued after events. A few years went by and I was ultimately diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. Many people with MS get fatigued when they get too warm. Once I had been diagnosed, I started to understand the episodes of fatigue I had experienced as Santa. My wife and I decided that it was time for me to put an end to my Santa career.
For a few years the outfit sat unused in a closet. Then one year a friend was looking for a Santa suit to use for a church gathering, so I lent him mine. He was such a natural at it, that I eventually gave the suit to him.
As the years have passed, I have come to a somewhat different understanding about playing Santa than I once had. Given the heightened awareness of deviants in our society, I have started to wonder about people that dress up in order to be in close physical contact with children. Their costumes convey a wholesomeness that disarms otherwise cautious parents. Clowns are also problematic. Frankly, clowns have always creeped me out.
Although I enjoyed being a part-time Santa for a few years, I have never deceived my children about the true nature of the whole Santa Clause thing. I have leveled with them about the real St. Nicholas and our modern Santa Clause tradition. My kids have always known that the gifts under the tree come from Mom & Dad, and Grandma & Grandpa rather than from some bizarrely clad intruder. I want them to know that they can trust me to be truthful with them.
I enjoy both our religious and secular Christmastime traditions. I have no problem having fun with the Santa Clause fairy tale. But even if I didn’t have MS, I doubt I’d still be playing Santa nowadays.
Monday, December 28, 2009
The Absurdity of the Better Christian Gambit
The man’s words bothered me on several levels as he explained how he went from being a committed Christian to being a secular humanist. He was much happier in his chosen belief system, he said, than he had been as a Christian. He went on to describe the many ways he now reaches out to help others.
Then this man said something that really stuck in my craw. “I’m a much better Christian now than when I was a Christian.” It took me a while to understand what it was about this statement that bothered me. Eventually I perceived two issues I had with it.
Firstly, the man essentially implied that it was the fault of Christianity itself that he was, by his own admission, a slacker when it came to loving and serving his fellowmen when he was a Christian. Why had he chosen that course of action back then and what was it about his conversion to secular humanism that changed this?
It can hardly be argued that the former belief system was inferior to the latter in encouragement to treat fellow beings selflessly. There is nothing in the Christian faith that caused this man to be a poor practitioner of Christian behavior during his tenure as a Christian. Thus, the man’s statement is an indictment against himself rather than against Christianity.
But far more important is the stunning implication that this man has apparently never understood the most basic and central tenet of Christianity. Through years of church attendance, of participating in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, and of praising Christ in song and prayer, it seems that this man never grasped what Christianity is all about. It was also apparent from his statement about now being a better Christian that he still failed to understand what it means to be a Christian.
Although various Christian denominations state it in different ways, they all essentially teach that being a Christian means accepting the idea that no person can ever be considered good on his or her own merits. There is too much bad in even the best of us for that to be the case. The only way any of us can ever hope to become truly good is through the merits and grace of the perfect Son of God, Jesus Christ.
Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, God offers us the free gift of compensation for all of our problems, inadequacies, imperfections, and poor choices. We simply agree to accept this free gift. That is what being a Christian is all about. It is preposterous to claim that having rejected this gift, one is now a better Christian than before rejecting it.
But what of the Christian behavior that my secular humanist friend touted? It cannot be denied that Christ calls His followers to a high standard of behavior. Indeed, loving God and loving one’s fellow beings top the list of Christ’s commandments. How is it possible that one that professes to be a Christian could apparently do worse at fulfilling those Christian commandments than many non-Christians?
The answer to this is two-pronged, but based in a single principle. True Christianity concerns itself primarily with matters of the soul. Physical and temporal matters are important too, but mainly with respect to how they affect the soul. Secular humanism, by definition, is chiefly concerned with observable temporal effects. This helps explain why measures of either system by adherents of the other tend to fall short of satisfying advocates of the system being critiqued.
Back to the two prongs of Christians failing to be Christ-like. First, there are those that claim to accept Christ but do not actually receive His teachings. These people deceive themselves. They are not actually Christians in the most secret chambers of their hearts; where it really matters. They may succeed in hoodwinking others into thinking they are Christian, but Christianity teaches that all accounts will eventually be settled appropriately in the eternal realms so that the effects of all deceptions will be addressed.
Second, the purpose of ‘Christian behavior’ is ideally as an outgrowth of what is already going on in the soul. That is, one follows God’s commandments out of a love of God and His children. Christians also sometimes engage in such behavior to motivate the soul, so that it can work both ways. Or perhaps, more correctly, it can work cyclically in an upward spiral.
My little daughter is fond of writing love notes to me and my wife. These notes are simple and sometimes spelled eclectically. But they are infinitely precious. My youngest son goes through stages where he is very conscientious about performing simple acts of service for my wife and me. My daughter’s notes and my son’s service would not amount to much if measured on the scale of what is expected of an adult. But taken in context, they are an extremely important demonstration of love.
Similarly, our acts of obedience to God are often grossly inadequate when measured against divine perfection. But when proper motivation is present, such acts are precious expressions of our love for God and for our fellow beings. The idea is that we do our level best, and then no matter how pathetic our attempts may be, Christ will apply His Atonement to make up for the rest.
I would not expect this sentiment to be meaningful at all to a secular humanist. After all, that system of belief sees no need for a spiritual Savior whatsoever. And that’s fine for them. The main point here is that it is ridiculous for a secular humanist that does not accept or apply the Atonement of Christ to claim to be “a better Christian” than anyone, including one’s former self.
Given that Christians measure service to others on an entirely different scale than secular humanists; it is also as silly for a secular humanist to claim to be better than a Christian at Christian behavior as it would be for a Christian to claim to be better at secular humanist behavior than a devoted secular humanist. The equation simply does not compute.
My ex-Christian friend probably made his ‘better Christian’ comment in a bid to justify his shift in belief systems. While his claim may have satisfied himself on some level, it was actually a farcical statement that failed to bolster his position. No doubt my friend left his Christian faith behind because he found belief in secular humanism more compelling. But it would be better to simply say that than to make assertions based in absurdity.
Then this man said something that really stuck in my craw. “I’m a much better Christian now than when I was a Christian.” It took me a while to understand what it was about this statement that bothered me. Eventually I perceived two issues I had with it.
Firstly, the man essentially implied that it was the fault of Christianity itself that he was, by his own admission, a slacker when it came to loving and serving his fellowmen when he was a Christian. Why had he chosen that course of action back then and what was it about his conversion to secular humanism that changed this?
It can hardly be argued that the former belief system was inferior to the latter in encouragement to treat fellow beings selflessly. There is nothing in the Christian faith that caused this man to be a poor practitioner of Christian behavior during his tenure as a Christian. Thus, the man’s statement is an indictment against himself rather than against Christianity.
But far more important is the stunning implication that this man has apparently never understood the most basic and central tenet of Christianity. Through years of church attendance, of participating in the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, and of praising Christ in song and prayer, it seems that this man never grasped what Christianity is all about. It was also apparent from his statement about now being a better Christian that he still failed to understand what it means to be a Christian.
Although various Christian denominations state it in different ways, they all essentially teach that being a Christian means accepting the idea that no person can ever be considered good on his or her own merits. There is too much bad in even the best of us for that to be the case. The only way any of us can ever hope to become truly good is through the merits and grace of the perfect Son of God, Jesus Christ.
Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, God offers us the free gift of compensation for all of our problems, inadequacies, imperfections, and poor choices. We simply agree to accept this free gift. That is what being a Christian is all about. It is preposterous to claim that having rejected this gift, one is now a better Christian than before rejecting it.
But what of the Christian behavior that my secular humanist friend touted? It cannot be denied that Christ calls His followers to a high standard of behavior. Indeed, loving God and loving one’s fellow beings top the list of Christ’s commandments. How is it possible that one that professes to be a Christian could apparently do worse at fulfilling those Christian commandments than many non-Christians?
The answer to this is two-pronged, but based in a single principle. True Christianity concerns itself primarily with matters of the soul. Physical and temporal matters are important too, but mainly with respect to how they affect the soul. Secular humanism, by definition, is chiefly concerned with observable temporal effects. This helps explain why measures of either system by adherents of the other tend to fall short of satisfying advocates of the system being critiqued.
Back to the two prongs of Christians failing to be Christ-like. First, there are those that claim to accept Christ but do not actually receive His teachings. These people deceive themselves. They are not actually Christians in the most secret chambers of their hearts; where it really matters. They may succeed in hoodwinking others into thinking they are Christian, but Christianity teaches that all accounts will eventually be settled appropriately in the eternal realms so that the effects of all deceptions will be addressed.
Second, the purpose of ‘Christian behavior’ is ideally as an outgrowth of what is already going on in the soul. That is, one follows God’s commandments out of a love of God and His children. Christians also sometimes engage in such behavior to motivate the soul, so that it can work both ways. Or perhaps, more correctly, it can work cyclically in an upward spiral.
My little daughter is fond of writing love notes to me and my wife. These notes are simple and sometimes spelled eclectically. But they are infinitely precious. My youngest son goes through stages where he is very conscientious about performing simple acts of service for my wife and me. My daughter’s notes and my son’s service would not amount to much if measured on the scale of what is expected of an adult. But taken in context, they are an extremely important demonstration of love.
Similarly, our acts of obedience to God are often grossly inadequate when measured against divine perfection. But when proper motivation is present, such acts are precious expressions of our love for God and for our fellow beings. The idea is that we do our level best, and then no matter how pathetic our attempts may be, Christ will apply His Atonement to make up for the rest.
I would not expect this sentiment to be meaningful at all to a secular humanist. After all, that system of belief sees no need for a spiritual Savior whatsoever. And that’s fine for them. The main point here is that it is ridiculous for a secular humanist that does not accept or apply the Atonement of Christ to claim to be “a better Christian” than anyone, including one’s former self.
Given that Christians measure service to others on an entirely different scale than secular humanists; it is also as silly for a secular humanist to claim to be better than a Christian at Christian behavior as it would be for a Christian to claim to be better at secular humanist behavior than a devoted secular humanist. The equation simply does not compute.
My ex-Christian friend probably made his ‘better Christian’ comment in a bid to justify his shift in belief systems. While his claim may have satisfied himself on some level, it was actually a farcical statement that failed to bolster his position. No doubt my friend left his Christian faith behind because he found belief in secular humanism more compelling. But it would be better to simply say that than to make assertions based in absurdity.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Too Much Justice
My youngest son is the informant in our family. He has a keen overdeveloped sense of justice. If any other family member does anything that our informant believes to be even slightly out of kilter, he goes into full tattle mode. (And he’ll remember any infraction FOREVER.)
This morning while the informant was in the shower, his older brother was practicing on the piano. The informant burst upon the scene during a break in the piano practice while the practicing son was looking for a piece of sheet music he wanted to try out.
I asked the informant to resort to my Roland keyboard to practice his piano lessons before playing. He reluctantly complied. The other son soon found the sought for music and practiced it for a while. He then left the piano to do something else.
The informant promptly popped up from the keyboard and started to put his music away. He had only put in about a third of the required practice, so I called him on it. His immediate response was to accuse his older brother of practicing too briefly. (He never tires of the accusation distraction.) When I explained that his brother had already completed most of his practice during the informant’s shower time, he sheepishly returned to the keyboard and finished his practice.
I dearly love my youngest son. I identify with him on a visceral level. You see, I played the ‘justice’ role in my family growing up. There’s a lot that goes with that job, including rigid inflexibility, especially in matters of process. The final outcome pales in importance to the process. Variations in the process cause more upset than variations in the results.
I drove my family members up the wall with my insistence on doing family traditions exactly the same way as we did the last time around. Never mind the fact that conditions were different the next time around.
Another thing my ‘justice’ boy has in common with me is that he is a world class pouter. As a kid, I was a pro at pouting. (My Mom has photos to prove it.) I could keep it up for hours on end when my oversensitive sense of justice was offended.
Like me as a kid, my justice boy sometimes drives other family members crazy. I correct him, but inside I cut him slack, because I look at him and see me as a child. I hope my boy eventually tempers his sense of justice as he grows up. Some people never outgrow this. That’s how we end up with some of the rules and regulations we live with, or with some of the nasty implementations of such.
This morning while the informant was in the shower, his older brother was practicing on the piano. The informant burst upon the scene during a break in the piano practice while the practicing son was looking for a piece of sheet music he wanted to try out.
I asked the informant to resort to my Roland keyboard to practice his piano lessons before playing. He reluctantly complied. The other son soon found the sought for music and practiced it for a while. He then left the piano to do something else.
The informant promptly popped up from the keyboard and started to put his music away. He had only put in about a third of the required practice, so I called him on it. His immediate response was to accuse his older brother of practicing too briefly. (He never tires of the accusation distraction.) When I explained that his brother had already completed most of his practice during the informant’s shower time, he sheepishly returned to the keyboard and finished his practice.
I dearly love my youngest son. I identify with him on a visceral level. You see, I played the ‘justice’ role in my family growing up. There’s a lot that goes with that job, including rigid inflexibility, especially in matters of process. The final outcome pales in importance to the process. Variations in the process cause more upset than variations in the results.
I drove my family members up the wall with my insistence on doing family traditions exactly the same way as we did the last time around. Never mind the fact that conditions were different the next time around.
Another thing my ‘justice’ boy has in common with me is that he is a world class pouter. As a kid, I was a pro at pouting. (My Mom has photos to prove it.) I could keep it up for hours on end when my oversensitive sense of justice was offended.
Like me as a kid, my justice boy sometimes drives other family members crazy. I correct him, but inside I cut him slack, because I look at him and see me as a child. I hope my boy eventually tempers his sense of justice as he grows up. Some people never outgrow this. That’s how we end up with some of the rules and regulations we live with, or with some of the nasty implementations of such.
Friday, December 18, 2009
How I Set Up PHPMyAdmin: A Tale of Unnecessary Difficulty
I did it. I won my battle with PHPMyAdmin. And I learned a few things in the process. I finally decided to bite the bullet and rebuild a Microsoft Access database application I had built for the school to track volunteers and volunteer time using PHP and MySQL.
MS Access is a dandy if you want to run a small standalone application. You can build a MS Access application on any computer that has MS Access installed. Copying the entire application to another computer is a snap. But the target computer also has to have MS Access installed if you want to use your application there. If the other computer doesn’t have MS Access and its owners don’t want to spring for it, you can tweak the app to work with OpenOffice Base, which is available for free.
But MS Access really isn’t adequate for a multi-user environment. (This also goes for OpenOffice Base.) It’s not designed to handle the kind of locking and security needed for such an environment. Yes, I know that there are many instances where MS Access applications are run from a server, but it’s not a good way to go.
The freely available MySQL, on the other hand, is designed function well in multi-user environments. But you need more than just a database. You need a front-end application to allow users to work with the database. That’s where PHP comes in. And, of course, you need an application server application that hosts any PHP/MySQL application you build. Proper installation on a central server allows access via a web browser.
My idea was to rebuild the standalone MS Access database application using PHP/MySQL, and then install the new application on the school’s server so that any computer inside of the school’s firewall could work with the database. But first, I wanted to build and run everything on my home network to work out all of the bugs.
I started by downloading the WAMP package that includes PHP, MySQL, PHPMyAdmin, and the Apache HTTP server from WAMPServer. This is for a Windows environment. Other packages are available for other environments. Initial installation was quick and easy. All of the services started.
The root password
My problems started when I opened PHPMyAdmin and saw a message telling me that I should remedy the fact that MySQL had no password for the root user account. Unfortunately, there was no information about how to do that. I began searching through the documentation that installed with PHPMyAdmin and MySQL, only to become quickly frustrated.
A Google search revealed a broad variety of information. It took me a while to realize that most of it was obsolete. Reading through forums that turned up in the Google search was a tedious and mostly fruitless exercise. It was like digging through mounds of manure in hopes of finding a tiny gem.
I finally discovered that MySQL passwords can be set by running MySQL from the command line and using an arcane chain of commands, or by going to the Privileges tab in PHPMyAdmin, clicking on the Edit Privileges icon to the right of the root account, and then entering (and re-typing) the password in the resulting screen. Unfortunately, this immediately breaks PHPMyAdmin. I started getting “Error #1045 - Access denied for user 'root'@'localhost'….”
I searched around and found that I needed to go to my wamp\apps\phpmyadmin directory and edit the config.inc.php file. There is an entry there that reads “$cfg['Servers'][$i]['password'] = '';” All I needed to do was to enter the password I had selected for root between the single quotes on that entry. (This is fine for a limited environment, but you will want to use the cookie method in a broader environment. That’s outside the scope of this post.)
This fixed everything, right? Nope. The # 1045 error persisted. Nothing I did changed that. After much frustration, I completely uninstalled and re-installed WAMP. The process began over again. Again I ended up at the persistent # 1045 error.
Clear the session files
After much perusal of the Internet, I read an entry that mentioned permissions on the tmp directory. I found the wamp\tmp directory and noticed a couple of files that began with “sess” followed by a series of hexadecimal numbers. Suddenly I had the odd idea that I should delete these files. I did so, and then PHPMyAdmin started up just fine.
Apparently PHPMyAdmin always starts by going to the most recent session file in the tmp directory. If the session ended with an error, the new session will start with the same error, even if you fixed the cause of the error.
Just a couple of notes to the PHPMyAdmin developers: 1) Why can’t the config.inc.php file be automatically updated with the root user password when it is changed via the PHPMyAdmin application? 2) You really ought to do something about fixing the problem with PHPMyAdmin retaining an error upon starting when the cause of the error has already been corrected.
Setting up link table capabilities
Now everything was hunky-dory, right? Wrong. PHPMyAdmin displayed a message in a red box stating that the mechanism for linking tables was not properly set up. Clicking on the link for more info led to the documentation. Although there was a lot of technical stuff in there, there was no information on how to remedy this problem.
I once again resorted to Google and found myself sifting through tons of worthless information in search of something useful. I found an entry that explained that the following entries were needed in the confic.inc.php file:
Fortunately, I found another link that provided the answer to this conundrum. You can create the pma user account in the Privileges tab of PHPMyAdmin and assign a password. Then the pma user needs rights to the mysql database. In the SQL tab of the mysql database, I ran the following commands:
Finally ready to start developing
Now everything works great. I re-created my tables in MySQL using PHPMyAdmin. I exported my MS Access data to comma delimited files and imported it into the MySQL tables. Voila!, I am now finally ready to start building the application interface using PHP.
I have to seriously question the PHPMyAdmin developers as to why they haven’t streamlined the link table setup. I mean, the clugey hack job you have to go through to set this up and get rid of the error message is simply bizarre, not to mention very poorly documented.
MS Access is a dandy if you want to run a small standalone application. You can build a MS Access application on any computer that has MS Access installed. Copying the entire application to another computer is a snap. But the target computer also has to have MS Access installed if you want to use your application there. If the other computer doesn’t have MS Access and its owners don’t want to spring for it, you can tweak the app to work with OpenOffice Base, which is available for free.
But MS Access really isn’t adequate for a multi-user environment. (This also goes for OpenOffice Base.) It’s not designed to handle the kind of locking and security needed for such an environment. Yes, I know that there are many instances where MS Access applications are run from a server, but it’s not a good way to go.
The freely available MySQL, on the other hand, is designed function well in multi-user environments. But you need more than just a database. You need a front-end application to allow users to work with the database. That’s where PHP comes in. And, of course, you need an application server application that hosts any PHP/MySQL application you build. Proper installation on a central server allows access via a web browser.
My idea was to rebuild the standalone MS Access database application using PHP/MySQL, and then install the new application on the school’s server so that any computer inside of the school’s firewall could work with the database. But first, I wanted to build and run everything on my home network to work out all of the bugs.
I started by downloading the WAMP package that includes PHP, MySQL, PHPMyAdmin, and the Apache HTTP server from WAMPServer. This is for a Windows environment. Other packages are available for other environments. Initial installation was quick and easy. All of the services started.
The root password
My problems started when I opened PHPMyAdmin and saw a message telling me that I should remedy the fact that MySQL had no password for the root user account. Unfortunately, there was no information about how to do that. I began searching through the documentation that installed with PHPMyAdmin and MySQL, only to become quickly frustrated.
A Google search revealed a broad variety of information. It took me a while to realize that most of it was obsolete. Reading through forums that turned up in the Google search was a tedious and mostly fruitless exercise. It was like digging through mounds of manure in hopes of finding a tiny gem.
I finally discovered that MySQL passwords can be set by running MySQL from the command line and using an arcane chain of commands, or by going to the Privileges tab in PHPMyAdmin, clicking on the Edit Privileges icon to the right of the root account, and then entering (and re-typing) the password in the resulting screen. Unfortunately, this immediately breaks PHPMyAdmin. I started getting “Error #1045 - Access denied for user 'root'@'localhost'….”
I searched around and found that I needed to go to my wamp\apps\phpmyadmin directory and edit the config.inc.php file. There is an entry there that reads “$cfg['Servers'][$i]['password'] = '';” All I needed to do was to enter the password I had selected for root between the single quotes on that entry. (This is fine for a limited environment, but you will want to use the cookie method in a broader environment. That’s outside the scope of this post.)
This fixed everything, right? Nope. The # 1045 error persisted. Nothing I did changed that. After much frustration, I completely uninstalled and re-installed WAMP. The process began over again. Again I ended up at the persistent # 1045 error.
Clear the session files
After much perusal of the Internet, I read an entry that mentioned permissions on the tmp directory. I found the wamp\tmp directory and noticed a couple of files that began with “sess” followed by a series of hexadecimal numbers. Suddenly I had the odd idea that I should delete these files. I did so, and then PHPMyAdmin started up just fine.
Apparently PHPMyAdmin always starts by going to the most recent session file in the tmp directory. If the session ended with an error, the new session will start with the same error, even if you fixed the cause of the error.
Just a couple of notes to the PHPMyAdmin developers: 1) Why can’t the config.inc.php file be automatically updated with the root user password when it is changed via the PHPMyAdmin application? 2) You really ought to do something about fixing the problem with PHPMyAdmin retaining an error upon starting when the cause of the error has already been corrected.
Setting up link table capabilities
Now everything was hunky-dory, right? Wrong. PHPMyAdmin displayed a message in a red box stating that the mechanism for linking tables was not properly set up. Clicking on the link for more info led to the documentation. Although there was a lot of technical stuff in there, there was no information on how to remedy this problem.
I once again resorted to Google and found myself sifting through tons of worthless information in search of something useful. I found an entry that explained that the following entries were needed in the confic.inc.php file:
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['controluser'] = 'pma';But this simply caused me more questions. What was the pma user? It seemed that these entries implied a database named phpmyadmin with at least eight tables in it. (I’m a data guy. I recognize database structures.) Where was that supposed to come from?
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['controlpass'] = 'password for pma user';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['AllowNoPassword'] = true;
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['pmadb'] = 'phpmyadmin';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['table_info'] = 'pma_table_info';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['pdf_pages'] = 'pma_pdf_pages';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['history'] = 'pma_history';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['column_info'] = 'pma_column_info';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['table_coords'] = 'pma_table_coords';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['designer_coords'] = 'pma_designer_coords';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['relation'] = 'pma_relation';
$cfg['Servers'][$i]['bookmarktable'] = 'pma_bookmark';
Fortunately, I found another link that provided the answer to this conundrum. You can create the pma user account in the Privileges tab of PHPMyAdmin and assign a password. Then the pma user needs rights to the mysql database. In the SQL tab of the mysql database, I ran the following commands:
GRANT SELECT (Host, User, Select_priv, Insert_priv, Update_priv, Delete_priv, Create_priv, Drop_priv, Reload_priv, Shutdown_priv, Process_priv, File_priv, Grant_priv, References_priv, Index_priv, Alter_priv, Show_db_priv, Super_priv, Create_tmp_table_priv, Lock_tables_priv, Execute_priv, Repl_slave_priv, Repl_client_priv) ON mysql.user TO 'pma'@'localhost';In the wamp\apps\phpmyadmin\scripts folder is a create_tables.sql file that can be used to create the phpmyadmin database with the eight tables referenced above and to grant rights to the pma user. Even after doing all that, the PHPMyAdmin error didn’t go away until I closed PHPMyAdmin, deleted the session files from the wamp\tmp directory, and restarted PHPMyAdmin.
GRANT SELECT ON mysql.db TO 'pma'@'localhost';
GRANT SELECT ON mysql.host TO 'pma'@'localhost';
GRANT SELECT (Host, Db, User, Table_name, Table_priv, Column_priv) ON mysql.tables_priv TO 'pma'@'localhost';
Finally ready to start developing
Now everything works great. I re-created my tables in MySQL using PHPMyAdmin. I exported my MS Access data to comma delimited files and imported it into the MySQL tables. Voila!, I am now finally ready to start building the application interface using PHP.
I have to seriously question the PHPMyAdmin developers as to why they haven’t streamlined the link table setup. I mean, the clugey hack job you have to go through to set this up and get rid of the error message is simply bizarre, not to mention very poorly documented.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
When It Comes to Politics, All Is Vanity
The writer of Ecclesiastes (about whose identity there has been much scholarly dispute) lamented that “there is no new thing under the sun” (ch 1, v 9). He has searched out wisdom and has carefully observed “all things that are done under heaven.” From this he declares concerning all worldly pursuits, “behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit” (ch 1, v 14). (Scholars tell us that the terms “under the sun” and “under heaven” should be understood to mean “worldly” as opposed to spiritual matters.)
In recent weeks I have done more thinking about why I write a blog. I write about various topics — whatever interests me at the moment. But for the nearly five years that I have been blogging I have tended to write more or less about political matters.
Sometimes I write because I think I have something to say. But I find that most of the time, I write to explore what it is I really think. It has been an evolutionary process. Occasionally I will read an old post and realize that my understanding has changed since that time. Other times I will read a past post and think that it states the matter better than I think I could write it today.
There is no question that I write mainly for my own benefit. I’m not doing this as a public service. I do it because it pleases me to do so.
My posts usually draw few if any comments, and that’s fine with me. If you want to reap lots of comments on your own blog you generally have to sow seeds by copiously commenting on other blogs. That works best when you can regularly devote concerted time and effort to keep the comment stream fresh. I can only sporadically put time into blogging. Sometimes I can put in a few minutes for many days in a row. Other times I can go days without having time to blog.
The blogosphere consists of many online communities that gel through comments. I am sometimes amazed at the amount of time some seem to have to comment as broadly as they do. Occasionally I envy those that earn a prominent place in one or more blogging communities. But then I realize that I deliberately choose to devote my efforts elsewhere and that I have little desire to do what would be necessary to play a larger role in any online community.
I appreciate thoughtful and substantive comments on anyone’s blog. Too many comments across the blogosphere come from cyber bullies with abusive tactics, snipers that shoot from the hip without seriously considering the content of the post, and those that appear to simply be involved in debating contests where the game is more important than the content.
I find myself mystified by those that habitually visit blogs to repeatedly state their opposing viewpoints, apparently unaffected by arguments made in the post. They write reasoned responses that are always based on the same handful of points that ignore or disregard concerns that the original blogger deems to be of central importance. Some do this to the point that it comes across like someone incessantly pounding one or two keys on a piano while ignoring all the other keys. Perhaps these people view this as a form of evangelism.
Lately I have noticed a number of instances that I have begun to fashion a post in my head only to drop the idea. As I have pondered this phenomenon, I have realized that several factors have been at play. I think that I sometimes realize that I have nothing new to say about the matter. Or to state it more accurately, I find myself developing no new understanding from the effort.
Sometimes anticipation of the type of comments a given post is certain to invite turns the whole process into a joyless exercise. If it brings me no joy and/or seems meaningless, I see no reason to do it.
At the moment, I find myself somewhat burned out on politics. The more I recognize that politics is itself a business that delivers services for gain, the more jaded I become. Every bit of political news or commentary I encounter lately causes me to lament with the author of Ecclesiastes that “there is no new thing under the sun” and that “all is vanity and vexation of spirit.”
We’ll see what this means as far as political blogging. I might get fired up and write a political post tomorrow. Or I might take a break from such activities for a while.
In recent weeks I have done more thinking about why I write a blog. I write about various topics — whatever interests me at the moment. But for the nearly five years that I have been blogging I have tended to write more or less about political matters.
Sometimes I write because I think I have something to say. But I find that most of the time, I write to explore what it is I really think. It has been an evolutionary process. Occasionally I will read an old post and realize that my understanding has changed since that time. Other times I will read a past post and think that it states the matter better than I think I could write it today.
There is no question that I write mainly for my own benefit. I’m not doing this as a public service. I do it because it pleases me to do so.
My posts usually draw few if any comments, and that’s fine with me. If you want to reap lots of comments on your own blog you generally have to sow seeds by copiously commenting on other blogs. That works best when you can regularly devote concerted time and effort to keep the comment stream fresh. I can only sporadically put time into blogging. Sometimes I can put in a few minutes for many days in a row. Other times I can go days without having time to blog.
The blogosphere consists of many online communities that gel through comments. I am sometimes amazed at the amount of time some seem to have to comment as broadly as they do. Occasionally I envy those that earn a prominent place in one or more blogging communities. But then I realize that I deliberately choose to devote my efforts elsewhere and that I have little desire to do what would be necessary to play a larger role in any online community.
I appreciate thoughtful and substantive comments on anyone’s blog. Too many comments across the blogosphere come from cyber bullies with abusive tactics, snipers that shoot from the hip without seriously considering the content of the post, and those that appear to simply be involved in debating contests where the game is more important than the content.
I find myself mystified by those that habitually visit blogs to repeatedly state their opposing viewpoints, apparently unaffected by arguments made in the post. They write reasoned responses that are always based on the same handful of points that ignore or disregard concerns that the original blogger deems to be of central importance. Some do this to the point that it comes across like someone incessantly pounding one or two keys on a piano while ignoring all the other keys. Perhaps these people view this as a form of evangelism.
Lately I have noticed a number of instances that I have begun to fashion a post in my head only to drop the idea. As I have pondered this phenomenon, I have realized that several factors have been at play. I think that I sometimes realize that I have nothing new to say about the matter. Or to state it more accurately, I find myself developing no new understanding from the effort.
Sometimes anticipation of the type of comments a given post is certain to invite turns the whole process into a joyless exercise. If it brings me no joy and/or seems meaningless, I see no reason to do it.
At the moment, I find myself somewhat burned out on politics. The more I recognize that politics is itself a business that delivers services for gain, the more jaded I become. Every bit of political news or commentary I encounter lately causes me to lament with the author of Ecclesiastes that “there is no new thing under the sun” and that “all is vanity and vexation of spirit.”
We’ll see what this means as far as political blogging. I might get fired up and write a political post tomorrow. Or I might take a break from such activities for a while.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
When the Gambling Bug Bites
“Why do they send stuff like this to us?” my wife asked, referring to a brochure we had received in the mail about Mesquite, Nevada. I suppose it’s because we happen to be in the right demographic categories. After all, you can see plenty of Utah license plates on cars parked at any of the gambling establishments near the Utah’s borders. (Pretty much all forms of gambling are illegal in Utah.)
We choose not to gamble for personal and religious reasons. My first career was in accounting. I have difficulty putting money in a vending machine where there is a reasonably high expectation of ‘winning’ the desired product. I can’t imagine putting money into a slot machine where the chance of breaking even is much lower. The same holds true for other games of chance. After all, those casinos weren’t built using customers’ winnings.
Many look at gambling as a form of entertainment that has a price attached, just like other forms of entertainment. For example, you willingly pay to receive psychological pleasure from going to a movie. It is argued that gambling works the same way.
However, like a number of other pursuits, gambling is known to be highly addictive. As explained in this Wikipedia article, addiction “is a chronic neurobiologic disorder that has genetic, psychosocial, and environmental dimensions….” It is characterized by one or more of the following:
When it comes to gambling, researchers know that habitual gamblers place a much higher psychological value on a dollar won than on a dollar lost. That’s one reason that gamblers often regale others with tales about their winnings while rarely mentioning their losses. In their minds, $20 won beats $100 lost. The short-term pleasure of getting their ‘hit’ — actual chemical changes in the brain from engaging in risk — is worth the sacrifices necessary to get that hit. It works the same way with pornography, addictive drugs, and other addictive behaviors.
I once worked with a woman whose entire persona — dress, grooming, speech, mannerisms, etc — came across like a traditional farmwife out of place in an office environment. She once looked wistful as she referred to her husband and said, “I believe that gambling is his most favorite activity in the entire world.” She described how frequently they made weekend trips to Wendover, Nevada to gamble. I remember thinking that these people had a problem.
This WSJ article tells the woeful tale of the former owner of The Oriental Trading Company, who blew $127 million gambling over a two-year period and now faces criminal charges for his gambling debts. Terry Watanabe had proven himself an adept businessman when he grew the “modest toy business [inherited from his father] into a catalog empire that raked in $300 million in revenue by the time of its sale in 2000.”
It seems clear from the article that Watanabe was addicted to work — to running the business. After selling the company at age 43, he apparently sought other channels for his compulsive character. He eventually found his way into a casino. Before long he found himself feted by casinos that gave him all kinds of expensive perks and fed his alcohol addiction while he gambled away as much as $5 million in a single session.
The casinos deny any wrongdoing. One spokesperson quoted in the WSJ article notes that the casino business she represents was an “early advocate and funder of organizations that help gambling addicts.” Frankly, that’s like excusing a heroin pusher that donates to a drug rehab program.
Capable adults are accountable for their own behavior. Given his business savvy, it’s difficult to argue that Mr. Watanabe was so callow as to be innocently taken in by the casinos that fleeced him. But the casinos were certainly complicit in feeding — and taking advantage of — his addictions. They probably did nothing illegal. Whether some of their actions were wrong is another matter.
It is always wise to be wary of businesses whose main trade model is based on generating gain from promoting addictive products or services. The demand for these things exists, of course. But the perversity of the incentives in such commerce means that these businesses are happy to profit from your self destruction.
We choose not to gamble for personal and religious reasons. My first career was in accounting. I have difficulty putting money in a vending machine where there is a reasonably high expectation of ‘winning’ the desired product. I can’t imagine putting money into a slot machine where the chance of breaking even is much lower. The same holds true for other games of chance. After all, those casinos weren’t built using customers’ winnings.
Many look at gambling as a form of entertainment that has a price attached, just like other forms of entertainment. For example, you willingly pay to receive psychological pleasure from going to a movie. It is argued that gambling works the same way.
However, like a number of other pursuits, gambling is known to be highly addictive. As explained in this Wikipedia article, addiction “is a chronic neurobiologic disorder that has genetic, psychosocial, and environmental dimensions….” It is characterized by one or more of the following:
- Continuation of demonstrably detrimental behavior.
- Compulsion to engage in the harmful behavior.
- Preoccupation with the negative behavior.
When it comes to gambling, researchers know that habitual gamblers place a much higher psychological value on a dollar won than on a dollar lost. That’s one reason that gamblers often regale others with tales about their winnings while rarely mentioning their losses. In their minds, $20 won beats $100 lost. The short-term pleasure of getting their ‘hit’ — actual chemical changes in the brain from engaging in risk — is worth the sacrifices necessary to get that hit. It works the same way with pornography, addictive drugs, and other addictive behaviors.
I once worked with a woman whose entire persona — dress, grooming, speech, mannerisms, etc — came across like a traditional farmwife out of place in an office environment. She once looked wistful as she referred to her husband and said, “I believe that gambling is his most favorite activity in the entire world.” She described how frequently they made weekend trips to Wendover, Nevada to gamble. I remember thinking that these people had a problem.
This WSJ article tells the woeful tale of the former owner of The Oriental Trading Company, who blew $127 million gambling over a two-year period and now faces criminal charges for his gambling debts. Terry Watanabe had proven himself an adept businessman when he grew the “modest toy business [inherited from his father] into a catalog empire that raked in $300 million in revenue by the time of its sale in 2000.”
It seems clear from the article that Watanabe was addicted to work — to running the business. After selling the company at age 43, he apparently sought other channels for his compulsive character. He eventually found his way into a casino. Before long he found himself feted by casinos that gave him all kinds of expensive perks and fed his alcohol addiction while he gambled away as much as $5 million in a single session.
The casinos deny any wrongdoing. One spokesperson quoted in the WSJ article notes that the casino business she represents was an “early advocate and funder of organizations that help gambling addicts.” Frankly, that’s like excusing a heroin pusher that donates to a drug rehab program.
Capable adults are accountable for their own behavior. Given his business savvy, it’s difficult to argue that Mr. Watanabe was so callow as to be innocently taken in by the casinos that fleeced him. But the casinos were certainly complicit in feeding — and taking advantage of — his addictions. They probably did nothing illegal. Whether some of their actions were wrong is another matter.
It is always wise to be wary of businesses whose main trade model is based on generating gain from promoting addictive products or services. The demand for these things exists, of course. But the perversity of the incentives in such commerce means that these businesses are happy to profit from your self destruction.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
The Bright Future of Journalism
There has been significant handwringing about declining newspaper readership and the demise of journalism ever since the advent of television. The rise of the Internet has evoked increased fear of these horrors to the point that some are seriously calling for a government takeover — lite version, of course — of newspapers and journalism. After all, kinder, gentler tyranny would never morph into heavy-handed tyranny, would it?
News tycoon Rupert Murdoch says that this is exactly the wrong way to go in this WSJ op-ed. (Please note that the Wall Street Journal is owned by Murdoch’s company.) Murdoch says, “Government assistance is a greater threat to the press than any new technology.” He writes:
Murdoch offers the following three rules for success in the new era of news delivery:
Companies that provide desirable quality content, says Murdoch on point two, will have no problem finding customers willing to pay for that content. “The old business model based mainly on advertising” writes Murdoch, “is dead. … The reason is that the old model was founded on quasimonopolies such as classified advertising, which has been decimated by new and cheaper competitors such as Craigslist, Monster.com, and so on.”
In a clear jab, Murdoch includes news aggregators such as Google in the customers that will be willing to pay for quality content. Google CEO Eric Schmidt had his own preemptory shot in this direction with his own WSJ op-ed last week. Schmidt essentially said that Google is willing to work with content creators to help them charge for their content. But he also suggested that aggregators provide value to news creators by channeling traffic to their websites that they otherwise wouldn’t see.
On his final point, Murdoch wants government to restructure regulations so as to promote increased competition. It should, he says, scrap anti-competitive rules designed for the ancient past. Above all, government should not get involved in news via direct or indirect subsidization. He writes:
Our regulatory structures work similarly to protect established technologies and practices while being slow to adapt to newer paradigms. In doing this, we unwittingly stifle innovation. Fortunately the indomitable human spirit seems to eventually break through barriers to innovate anyway, even in the face of legal disapproval.
I once regarded the future of journalism with the kind of gloom that pervades newsrooms today. I now believe that those grim faced newsies will eventually go the way of the dinosaur as they stand in place and are superseded by more agile and optimistic news entrepreneurs.
News tycoon Rupert Murdoch says that this is exactly the wrong way to go in this WSJ op-ed. (Please note that the Wall Street Journal is owned by Murdoch’s company.) Murdoch says, “Government assistance is a greater threat to the press than any new technology.” He writes:
“From the beginning, newspapers have prospered for one reason: the trust that comes from representing their readers' interests and giving them the news that's important to them. That means covering the communities where they live, exposing government or business corruption, and standing up to the rich and powerful.Murdoch notes that some players in the news market will inevitably fail to step up to the challenges of a new and continuously changing paradigm. Those that don’t, he says, should fail. But he is optimistic in the prospects for the news industry, saying, “The future of journalism belongs to the bold, and the companies that prosper will be those that find new and better ways to meet the needs of their viewers, listeners, and readers.”
“Technology now allows us to do this on a much greater scale. That means we have the means to reach billions of people who until now have had no honest or independent sources of the information they need to rise in society, hold their governments accountable, and pursue their needs and dreams.”
Murdoch offers the following three rules for success in the new era of news delivery:
- “[G]ive people the news they want.”
- Charge a “fair but modest price” for news content.
- Update government regulations to address the way news works in the 21st Century.
Companies that provide desirable quality content, says Murdoch on point two, will have no problem finding customers willing to pay for that content. “The old business model based mainly on advertising” writes Murdoch, “is dead. … The reason is that the old model was founded on quasimonopolies such as classified advertising, which has been decimated by new and cheaper competitors such as Craigslist, Monster.com, and so on.”
In a clear jab, Murdoch includes news aggregators such as Google in the customers that will be willing to pay for quality content. Google CEO Eric Schmidt had his own preemptory shot in this direction with his own WSJ op-ed last week. Schmidt essentially said that Google is willing to work with content creators to help them charge for their content. But he also suggested that aggregators provide value to news creators by channeling traffic to their websites that they otherwise wouldn’t see.
On his final point, Murdoch wants government to restructure regulations so as to promote increased competition. It should, he says, scrap anti-competitive rules designed for the ancient past. Above all, government should not get involved in news via direct or indirect subsidization. He writes:
“The most damning problem with government "help" is what we saw with the bailout of the U.S. auto industry: Help props up those who are producing things that customers do not want.As a society, we have a very poor track record of predicting new technologies and a worse track record of forecasting how they will be adopted and will impact society. Moreover, we have a deep history of fear of new technologies. One of the earliest cassette tapes I owned was a rock ballad about humankind being conquered by amoral computers that had become sentient. This sentiment stretches into the distant past where blacksmiths were regarded with deep suspicion as workers of black arts and were made to live separately.
“The prospect of the U.S. government becoming directly involved in commercial journalism ought to be chilling for anyone who cares about freedom of speech. The Founding Fathers knew that the key to independence was to allow enterprises to prosper and serve as a counterweight to government power. It is precisely because newspapers make profits and do not depend on the government for their livelihood that they have the resources and wherewithal to hold the government accountable.
“When the representatives of 13 former British colonies established a new order for the ages, they built it on a sturdy foundation: a free and informed citizenry. They understood that an informed citizenry requires news that is independent from government. That is one reason they put the First Amendment first.”
Our regulatory structures work similarly to protect established technologies and practices while being slow to adapt to newer paradigms. In doing this, we unwittingly stifle innovation. Fortunately the indomitable human spirit seems to eventually break through barriers to innovate anyway, even in the face of legal disapproval.
I once regarded the future of journalism with the kind of gloom that pervades newsrooms today. I now believe that those grim faced newsies will eventually go the way of the dinosaur as they stand in place and are superseded by more agile and optimistic news entrepreneurs.
Friday, December 04, 2009
The Musical Bed
When a new parent first cradles their newborn babe,As you know, all children love to jump on beds. And all parents are continually on watch for any such errant behavior. It’s as if parents have a sixth sense that allows them to detect when a child jumps on a bed. Or maybe that’s just how children see it.
An innocent bundle from above,
An instinct previously latent blooms
Imperceptibly mingled with love.
For unrealized in that moment sublime
Are the seeds of deep impulse unseen
That cause each child to intuitively treat
Each bed like a trampoline.
And within each new parent freshly kindles
An urge equally intense and strong
To put a stop all childish bed bouncing
From that moment ever on.
Which brings me to the topic of the bed I had when I was a child. It was one of the oddest contraptions you’ve ever seen. It was obviously created for the lower end of the mass market. And that’s probably why we had it — because it was affordable.
The thing that made this bed somewhat unique was that it was made entirely of metal, except for the mattress. You’d be surprised how much the bed’s all-metal construction enhanced its noisemaking capacities.
The headboard and footboard were of a similar make, except that the headboard was taller. They were painted to look like wood. They were shiny, so that they had the rich appearance of fake wood. I think it probably looked better than the phony wood paneling they used to put on the sides of cars back in those days.
These endboards each had a frame made of sheet metal formed into square-ish tubes so as to look like wood beams. The central space within each frame was filled by a panel of sheet metal. Now, I don’t know if this was the result of the manufacturing process, the shipping process, or if regular wear and tear that caused this; but these panels were slightly bowed.
If you applied the right amount of pressure in the center, the panel would suddenly bow the other way, providing a satisfying and resounding thump in the process. The larger headboard had kind of a bass drum sound, while the footboard had more of a mid-range tympani tone to it. Releasing the pressure caused the panel to thump back to its previous position. As you can imagine, this provided for endless hours of entertainment.
These sheet metal panels weren’t the end of the percussive possibilities. Almost any child is innovative enough that they can make noise by finding something with which to beat on any hollow tubular object. And so it was with the tubes of my bed’s endboard frames. These frames could produce multiple tones, depending on where they were struck. This added numerous sounds to the percussion section.
The endboards of the bed were attached to a completely exposed box of springs. The box springs of most beds are built on a wood frame, and the springs and frame are encased in heavy fabric. Not so with my bed. My box springs were built on a metal frame and had no covering at all. Not only did each spring produce its own unique noise, but parts of the frame were flexible so that they added to the cacophony.
I guess you could say that the box springs were sort of like the string section. But they could only be played with blunt force so that they couldn’t be made to sound like the string section of the New York Philharmonic — unless the orchestra was playing an evening of heavy metal hits, or something of that nature.
The bedrails were incorporated into the box springs so that the box springs attached directly to the headboard and footboard, providing four metal-on-metal joints. Each of these joints could be counted on to produce a distinctive squeak when the bed was played quietly, or a loud jarring screech when played at higher volumes. Sometimes these joints sounded like novices on flutes or piccolos. Other times they sounded like the wild bleat of a trumpet or trombone, followed by the sound of the horn being thrown to the floor.
This whole amazing musical contrivance rode atop four metal wheels. Two were attached to the headboard and two were attached to the footboard. The slightest movement of the bed caused these metal castors to rotate a bit. A vigorous jumping session could move the bed two feet or more. The rotating wheels produced many varied squeals that I sometimes thought sounded like operatic sopranos warming up on a cold morning, perhaps while being strangled.
While my bed was a remarkable multifaceted musical instrument all on its own, my bedroom was an important part of the ensemble. When I was young, the room had hardwood floors. We had little other furniture in the room. There were scarcely any soft things that could absorb sound besides the curtains, the mattress, and the bed linens. The whole room acted as a type of amplifier.
No matter how carefully done, any movement by someone on that bed would reliably produce a variety of squeaks, groans, and squeals. Not only did all of this noise reverberate off the floor, walls, and ceiling of the room, but the direct contact of the bed’s wheels on the floor transferred all vibrations directly into the hardwood floor.
Back in that day, the basement of the house was uncompleted. Sounds that transferred into the floor echoed off the concrete walls and floor of the basement, went into the ventilation system, and were quite effectively broadcast into even the most remote regions of the house. It was as if some mad musical genius had designed a whole building that was its own kind of strange musical instrument, with my bed as the console upon which the musician played.
As a child, I was fully aware of the melodious tones that emanated from my bed. But there were holes in my logic capacities. I understood the cause and effect of applying pressure to the bed to make noise. But for some reason, it didn’t dawn on me during my early years that my mother could hear this noise too. In fact, she couldn’t escape it without leaving the house. Every time I tried to jump on my bed, I could only get in two or three bounces before Mom showed up in the doorway with a stern look on her face.
Kids are like that. They’ll tiptoe and whisper when they’re trying to get away with something. But then they’ll turn around and make other noise that is sure to get them caught. That continues until the child’s brain development gets to the point where this concept can be grasped. Then they get away with a lot more mischief. Judging from what I read in the newspaper about some criminals, there are adults that never develop that far.
When my brother and I eventually got new beds, I thought I was being rewarded. It didn’t dawn on me until much later that the new beds were actually a gift for my parents. Bill Cosby likes to quip that the thing parents with young children prize most highly is quiet.
I was still pretty young when we got carpet in the main areas of the home. It took longer before carpet was laid in the bedrooms. By and by, we got more furniture and wall hangings, and the basement was finished. All of that significantly reduced the echo chambers of the home, devastating its previous musical grandeur.
I don’t know what happened to the old metal bed. Maybe it went to the dump. Perhaps it was donated to charity so that some less fortunate family could discover the joys of that terrible noise. Maybe some five-year-old somewhere is right now jumping on that old creaky thing. If so, his mother is no doubt stomping her way to his bedroom with a scowl on her face.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
What the Constitution Really Means Today
This post on the Politics & Prosperity blog presents some thought provoking ideas about what comprises real constitutional law. The author, who lists only the name of Thomas, quotes GMU law professor Randy Barnett quite extensively. Barnett is noted for 2003 book, Restoring the Lost Constitution: the Presumption of Liberty.
As I understand it, the basic idea presented by Thomas is that the Constitution is what it says it is: the “supreme Law of the Land” (Article VI), and is to be taken seriously per its original intent. That is, all legislation and court rulings relative to the Constitution are inferior to the Constitution itself as originally interpreted.
As one writer put it, the Supreme Court offers opinions. It is not a Supreme Council of Ayatollahs whose writings we must regard as sacred or even on par with the language of the original document (as amended). As Barnett puts it in this post,
Thomas makes the case that most of our nation’s laws are essentially unconstitutional. This, he asserts, renders the governments that create, sustain, and enforce these laws illegitimate, since they are enemies of the Constitution. He writes:
This is not necessarily a new line of thinking. The 19th Century classical liberal philosopher Herbert Spencer argued in his 1851 treatise The Right to Ignore the State that without a truly legitimate method of opting out of the state, it cannot be presumed that the governed have consented to the state’s governance.
The great claim of democratic government is that government derives its legitimacy from the consent of the governed (not from some farcical aquatic ceremony). But if the government has provided no other methods for truly effective and legitimate dissent than to leave the jurisdiction or to become a criminal, the citizenry cannot be considered to have consented. It does not matter that most choose to comply with the whims of government rather than be branded criminals. Tacit compliance does not imply actual consent.
Democracies, Republics, and Votes
Democratic forms of government, moreover, lend tremendous validity to the whims of the majority. In §4 of his treatise, Spencer argues that this is simply an attempt to interpret literally the phrase “the voice of the people is the voice of God.” It transfers “to the one the sacredness attached to the other” and implies that there can be no appeal to the will of the majority.
The great virtue of republican forms of government is supposed to be the balancing of the desires of the majority and the minority, ostensibly through voting for representatives of various branches at various levels. In §5, Spencer questions the legitimacy of the vote as a substitute for consent.
Though the technical origins of the concept may vary, it would seem that Thomas, Barnett, and Spencer all drive to the inescapable conclusion that our current governments at almost all levels in the U.S. rule over us illegitimately. Thomas calls for widespread “legitimate acts of civil disobedience” against these illegitimate governments. Trivial acts such as breaking the speed limit accomplish nothing, he claims. But as for substantive acts, he leaves that up to the reader’s imagination.
What Makes Government Legitimate?
This brings up the question of what constitutes a legitimate government. I read through a broad variety of different types of works to address this question. There were many varied takes on the matter from various policy standpoints. But most of them ultimately came more or less down to the same concept: That government is legitimized by the fact that the overwhelming majority of the people in a particular geographic area recognize a particular government as legitimate.
Acceptance is a much lower standard than the consent standard discussed above. In effect, a government is considered legitimate as long as most people go along with its edicts without significantly rebelling. There is no presumption of a legal foundation or absence of tyranny; no requirement for a legitimate and effective dissent mechanism.
In a twist on the phrase “the voice of the people is the voice of God,” this definition is more like, “the voice of the elite ruling class is the voice of God, as far as they can push the envelope without the people rebelling.” In essence, the absence of rebellion denotes legitimacy. That’s a pretty low bar.
The Shocking Reality
While many would recoil at such a definition, I think that it is representative of current reality. Think about it. While almost everyone is unhappy about the government in one way or another, and some are very dissatisfied with certain features, few seriously think of the government as broadly illegitimate.
Per this statist definition, the Constitution was merely an agreement by which the U.S. Government became recognized as the legitimate national government. Once that was accomplished, the document had served its purpose. Thus, the government is now free to ‘interpret’ the Constitution any way it wishes to meet “modern needs.” There is no need to amend the document when the government can simply do whatever it wants as long as the people don’t rebel on a significant scale.
As appalling as I find this low-bar definition, I conclude that it represents the way things really are. Few would give any thought at all to Thomas’ call to substantive and meaningful civil disobedience because they accept the government as legitimate. To most, any tyranny we live under is either survivable or is nothing that can’t be fixed without a little tweaking. They sense no systemic failure.
I have studied the Constitution and have seen its wisdom and follies. Overall, I consider it a remarkable legal charter for our nation. But when it comes to the way things are really done today and what is generally considered legitimate, the Constitution is essentially meaningless. I do not think that it has to stay that way. But that is another post.
As I understand it, the basic idea presented by Thomas is that the Constitution is what it says it is: the “supreme Law of the Land” (Article VI), and is to be taken seriously per its original intent. That is, all legislation and court rulings relative to the Constitution are inferior to the Constitution itself as originally interpreted.
As one writer put it, the Supreme Court offers opinions. It is not a Supreme Council of Ayatollahs whose writings we must regard as sacred or even on par with the language of the original document (as amended). As Barnett puts it in this post,
“Assuming that Supreme Court precedents constitute "the Constitution" empowers long dead judges to rule us from the grave. Sorry, that is hyperbole. It allows the opinions of justices to trump the meaning of the written Constitution.”Our Illegitimate Government?
Thomas makes the case that most of our nation’s laws are essentially unconstitutional. This, he asserts, renders the governments that create, sustain, and enforce these laws illegitimate, since they are enemies of the Constitution. He writes:
“It is entirely reasonable to think of America’s present governments — federal, State, and local — as occupying powers. We might just as well have been invaded by a foreign power that chose to abide by our electoral rules, then substituted its own laws for what, until then, had been America’s more-or-less constitutional ones.”In his book, Barnett takes a somewhat different tack in Part 1. He asserts, as far as I can grasp it, that no legitimate basis exists for the Constitution to be binding on those that were not a party to its adoption. In this view, no one alive today could be legitimately bound by the Constitution.
This is not necessarily a new line of thinking. The 19th Century classical liberal philosopher Herbert Spencer argued in his 1851 treatise The Right to Ignore the State that without a truly legitimate method of opting out of the state, it cannot be presumed that the governed have consented to the state’s governance.
The great claim of democratic government is that government derives its legitimacy from the consent of the governed (not from some farcical aquatic ceremony). But if the government has provided no other methods for truly effective and legitimate dissent than to leave the jurisdiction or to become a criminal, the citizenry cannot be considered to have consented. It does not matter that most choose to comply with the whims of government rather than be branded criminals. Tacit compliance does not imply actual consent.
Democracies, Republics, and Votes
Democratic forms of government, moreover, lend tremendous validity to the whims of the majority. In §4 of his treatise, Spencer argues that this is simply an attempt to interpret literally the phrase “the voice of the people is the voice of God.” It transfers “to the one the sacredness attached to the other” and implies that there can be no appeal to the will of the majority.
The great virtue of republican forms of government is supposed to be the balancing of the desires of the majority and the minority, ostensibly through voting for representatives of various branches at various levels. In §5, Spencer questions the legitimacy of the vote as a substitute for consent.
“Perhaps it will be said that . . . the citizen is understood to have assented to everything his representative may do, when he voted for him. But suppose he did not vote for him; and on the contrary did all in his power to get elected someone holding opposite views — what then? The reply will probably be that, by taking part in such an election, he tacitly agreed to abide by the decision of the majority. And how if he did not vote at all? Why then he cannot justly complain of any tax, seeing that he made no protest against its imposition. So, curiously enough, it seems that he gave his consent in whatever way he acted — whether he said yes, whether he said no, or whether he remained neuter! A rather awkward doctrine this. Here stands an unfortunate citizen who is asked if he will pay money for a certain proffered advantage; and whether he employs the only means of expressing his refusal or does not employ it, we are told that he practically agrees; if only the number of others who agree is greater than the number of those who dissent. And thus we are introduced to the novel principle that A’s consent to a thing is not determined by what A says, but by what B may happen to say!”Besides, it is obvious that the amount of control you exert over government through your vote (or even through all of your political activities — unless you’re one of the elite few) is wholly disproportionate to the level of control government exerts over you. That’s what happens when government isn’t strictly limited and kept in check.
Though the technical origins of the concept may vary, it would seem that Thomas, Barnett, and Spencer all drive to the inescapable conclusion that our current governments at almost all levels in the U.S. rule over us illegitimately. Thomas calls for widespread “legitimate acts of civil disobedience” against these illegitimate governments. Trivial acts such as breaking the speed limit accomplish nothing, he claims. But as for substantive acts, he leaves that up to the reader’s imagination.
What Makes Government Legitimate?
This brings up the question of what constitutes a legitimate government. I read through a broad variety of different types of works to address this question. There were many varied takes on the matter from various policy standpoints. But most of them ultimately came more or less down to the same concept: That government is legitimized by the fact that the overwhelming majority of the people in a particular geographic area recognize a particular government as legitimate.
Acceptance is a much lower standard than the consent standard discussed above. In effect, a government is considered legitimate as long as most people go along with its edicts without significantly rebelling. There is no presumption of a legal foundation or absence of tyranny; no requirement for a legitimate and effective dissent mechanism.
In a twist on the phrase “the voice of the people is the voice of God,” this definition is more like, “the voice of the elite ruling class is the voice of God, as far as they can push the envelope without the people rebelling.” In essence, the absence of rebellion denotes legitimacy. That’s a pretty low bar.
The Shocking Reality
While many would recoil at such a definition, I think that it is representative of current reality. Think about it. While almost everyone is unhappy about the government in one way or another, and some are very dissatisfied with certain features, few seriously think of the government as broadly illegitimate.
Per this statist definition, the Constitution was merely an agreement by which the U.S. Government became recognized as the legitimate national government. Once that was accomplished, the document had served its purpose. Thus, the government is now free to ‘interpret’ the Constitution any way it wishes to meet “modern needs.” There is no need to amend the document when the government can simply do whatever it wants as long as the people don’t rebel on a significant scale.
As appalling as I find this low-bar definition, I conclude that it represents the way things really are. Few would give any thought at all to Thomas’ call to substantive and meaningful civil disobedience because they accept the government as legitimate. To most, any tyranny we live under is either survivable or is nothing that can’t be fixed without a little tweaking. They sense no systemic failure.
I have studied the Constitution and have seen its wisdom and follies. Overall, I consider it a remarkable legal charter for our nation. But when it comes to the way things are really done today and what is generally considered legitimate, the Constitution is essentially meaningless. I do not think that it has to stay that way. But that is another post.
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