ThingsPondered

A friend of mine was ballistically happy recently over a win by his old school’s football team.  He explained its poignant significance and permits me to share it:

“In the fall of 1968, a friend and I stopped at a roadside tavern one bright, cold Saturday afternoon.  Lo and behold, my team, Syracuse, was on TV playing the vaunted Notre Dame in football.

While quenching our thirst, we watched the game.  As it approached its dramatic conclusion, Syracuse led 16-14.  Notre Dame had the ball and was approaching the Syracuse goal line, but was thwarted with 4^th and long, but well within field goal range. The teams lined up for the anticipated kick, and after agonizing suspense, it flew wide right of the uprights.  Syracuse wins!  But no!  Horror of horrors, Syracuse was being penalized for running into the kicker.  The next kick was good and the game erroneously given to Notre Dame.

Why erroneously?  Because the Syracuse man didn’t run into the kicker – he was pushed, and by a Notre Dame player!  So, it was not a foul and Syracuse should have had the win.  However, this was before the days of instant replay, so end of story, perhaps.  It was end of story - until the Syracuse U. coach suggested to the ND coach that he acknowledge the error, which he would not.  So, the Syracuse Athletic Director made the same suggestion to his counterpart at ND, with the same unsatisfactory result.  Next, the President of Syracuse University contacted the Notre Dame President, who, not wanting to make any momentous decision, placed a long-distance trans-Atlantic telephone call to a private number in southern Europe.  An elderly gentleman with an Italian accent (so the story goes) answered and was told of the dilemma.  He responded, ‘Syracuse, eh?  Isn’t that the school that was founded by the Methodists in 1870?’  ‘Yes,’ he was told.  ‘Enough said,’ he concluded, and terminated the conversation.

Fast forward to another bright, sunny afternoon.  This time it is November 2008.  The same two teams face each other at Notre Dame Stadium with the Syracuse Orangemen being a three touchdown underdog, yet having a one-point lead in the closing seconds.  Amazingly, the same scenario of Notre Dame going for a field goal occurs.  The field goal try was short and this time there was no one running into the ND kicker.  Thus, Syracuse University held the well-deserved actual and belated moral victory.   

Is forty years too long to wait for a just reprisal?”

Thanks, BT, for sharing this.

I grew up without football on Thanksgiving Day.  I am very thankful for that.  Here is how it came to be and why I continue the tradition.

My parents grew up without television.  Mom and Dad each came from large extended families, and the holiday of Thanksgiving truly meant family time.  If their local high schools or colleges had a football game on Turkey Day, I guess this event did not burrow itself into their respective schemas about how one celebrates Thanksgiving.  Or, perhaps the fact that we did not live in either’s home town severed any connections to a local football contest.

Our tradition was to take a family walk in a county park.  Living in southwestern Pennsylvania, we could enjoy brisk weather for exploring the woods, yet usually count on the absence of snow on the ground.  This particular park was familiar and welcoming, being the site of summer scout camp, occasional swimming, and other fun activities.   

After that, somehow another tradition evolved.  We were far from grandparents or cousins.  It was “just us.”   Therefore, instead of us eating a turkey cooked at home, we dressed up in our very good clothes and went to a restaurant.  It was always the same one, and we kids only saw it on Thanksgiving.  After driving for what seemed like an hour “over the river and through the woods” (literally – gorgeous rural woods), we arrived at the Century Inn in Scenery Hill.  This inn, built circa 1794, was very Colonial including a large stone front step which was visibly worn down from the footfalls of so many visitors.  Perhaps even George Washington slept there.  (He could have if he came west to oversee troops during the Whiskey Rebellion.)  Our family always ate in the keeping room – the small room with the enormous walk-in fireplace.  Also, we kids always had the historically interesting appetizer of fruit shrub: a fruit sherbet with orange juice poured over it.

This was my Thanksgiving.  I had exercise and family time and good food.

Therefore, I am appalled at the rudeness of football fans (particularly of the male persuasion) who feel that the Thanksgiving events must occur around some idiot television producer’s schedule.  I am revolted at the notion that this family meal for which the purpose is reflection on our many blessings should possibly be eaten in front of the set, or with a TV set blaring conveniently close-by.  These ideas are so patently ridiculous, that I do not trouble myself with them.  I am extremely thankful for a lifetime of no-TV-giving-of-thanks.

The road of parenting is a bumpy one at times.  One tries to follow practices from her own childhood that seemed good and supplement with the current parenting trends that are touted in the media.  Often, I felt that although I did some things right, I wished that way back then I had the wisdom and life experiences I possess now.  Thus, I was surprised when I recently discovered in my heart of hearts that I did a danged good job.

I have been the mother of two wonderful boys, now fine men.  I have taught preschool aged children through college.  In addition to that, I have been involved with youth through volunteer activities in my community and worship center.  As I reflect about the range of children I have known, I realize that I actually did pass along much good to my precious progeny.

As children, my sons had respect for authority.  Thankfully, it was a balanced common-sense respect for adults, rather than blind obedience.   They could analyze and decide on personal safety issues regarding adults.  After that important issue was settled, they had the pragmatics to know whether, when, and how to raise questions to their teachers and leaders and when to raise the issues with me as their advocate.

They had internalized a sense of right and wrong.  Like any human beings, they may have been swayed by temptation on small matters.  However, on the big questions, they knew absolutely what was fair and right and they did the right thing.

My sons also had impulse control.  A few decades ago, this capacity would not be mentioned.  Parents ingrained it in children.   Conversely, these days it is nearly frightening how many children have not been taught at home that “no means no,” or that nobody gets everything he wants when he wants it all the time.  I am proud to say that my sons reasonably mastered delayed gratification.

From kindergarten and early school years, other parents regarded my boys as good kids, not “wild” ones.   They were kind-hearted.  They weren’t frequent flyers in time out chairs or student assistance conferences.  But, the best testament I have to whatever credit any parent can claim for her own efforts is this.  My sons were the kids in late elementary years who were permitted and welcomed to play at other kids’ houses after school in instances when the other stay-at-home-mom might have to run out for a short period, leaving the pair “home alone.”  The OTHER moms trusted my boys as so well-behaved that they would neither instigate trouble nor follow along if their buddy suggested something wrong. 

I guess I did some things right for the two greatest blessings of my lifetime!

Reading, Pennsylvania is the proud home of a minor league hockey team in the Toronto Maple Leafs farm system.  The local fans are incredibly loyal.  They cannot get enough of Reading Royals clothing, merchandise, or news.  Adding to the hoopla, the organization has a wonderful system for putting signs out (similar to political campaign ones) along major highway cloverleaves on any day of a home game.  Much excitement has come to town with the Royals and most of it should be credited to the energetic fans.  Due to this, I feel they deserve a song.  I humbly offer one below.

Royals Fan Song for the Reading (PA) Royals Hockey Team

New lyrics to the tune of “Baby Face”  2008 copyright Maren E. Morgan, all rights reserved

Verse 1

Royals Fans,

We’ve got the greatest team; we’re Royals Fans!

The blue (purple) and white bring fear to hockey land:

Every man

dreads our line-up for they know

 they won’t ever win

‘cause  Royals can

Out-skate, out-shoot, out-score 

Them and with just One hand!

We’re bless-ed from above.

Royals’s the team we love-

We’re the Reading Royals fans!   

Verse 2

Royals Fans,

We’re not fair weather friends; we’re Royals Fans!

Opposing teams do not make winning plans,

They’re also-rans.

Don’t go starting something:

Your team will get a thumping!

We will win.

We make the other teams despair

And all pound the sand,

They leave the rink in shame

While Royals have the fame,

We’re the Reading Royals fans!   

Why?  Why do middle-class moms run themselves ragged?  They try to raise good kids with every advantage, opportunity, and learning experience.  If they are married, they also try to keep that relationship vibrant.  Often, all of this is at the expense of driving themselves nuts….But there are other ways to make it work.  Look to our sisters to the south.

In Central and South American upper middle-class families, it is common to have household staff – in other words, a maid.  Sometimes the maid is live-in!  This lends itself to asking that staff person to also, watch children, walk the dog, and be de facto security.  I have a friend who grew up in an upper-middle class family in Mexico.  Now she is living the life of nutsy middle-class mom in Pennsylvania.  When her own mother comes north to visit, the abuela (Grandmom) is appalled.  She is shocked at all that her daughter undertakes on her own and insists that her daughter will become sick.  Grandmom feels that no one human should be doing all this chauffeuring, shopping, cleaning, cooking and so on by herself.

It’s something to consider, isn’t it?

Kids’ Gift Ideas for Lean Economic Times

Step One

Tell the kids in an age-appropriate way about the economy.  Explain that people are losing jobs and Santa wants to help them, so he is giving some non-elves work.  Some of the work is fixing up slightly used toys that silly families gave away.  Continue to explain that because these regular moms and dads are beginners in toy fixing, they might not do as good a job as an official North Pole Elf. So, if Santa decides to give our family any of these toys we will feel privileged to help him and the whole world.  We will feel grateful that Santa trusted us to be grown-up enough to enjoy these gifts.

Step Two:

Go on-line to your local Freecycle.  You can find yours by going to http://www.freecycle.org.  Arrange to secretly pick up some perfectly useful items.  Some may need a smidge of cleaning, but often the toys or items are in great shape.  While you are at it, consider what you might be able to offer to others.

Step Three:

Go on-line to your local Craigslist.org .  Under the large “For Sale” category, there are sub-categories.  You will want to check under “Free” and “Barter.”  Many win-wins can be gained at craigslist.

Step Four:

Greatly reduce your children’s television watching.  Alternatively, if you have the capacity to record the programs and then skip the commercials, please do that.  Our kids are victims of mass marketing efforts now.  If you can reduce their exposure to commercials, you will help reduce their TV-induced greed.

Step Five:

Similarly filter print materials, such as newspapers and flyers, which your kids see.  In my area, the Sunday newspaper is the edition full of toy store flyers and inserts.  That is not hard for me to “edit” before it reaches the little ones.

Step Six:

(Optional)  Whisper a prayer of thanks that you have children, that there will be a Christmas of some sort, and that, in the grand scheme,  this is a lighter challenge.

A good friend sent me an email with many photos.  Many are humorousand one photo is entitled “Blasphemy.  A ticket to Hell has never been funnier.”  What, you imagine, could possibly be contained in this photo?  We frequently think of blasphemy as profane words, not photographs.  On the other hand, there is the saying is that a picture is worth a thousand words, but…..alright, I’ll tell you. 

The setting is obviously an art museum.  There are 3 creative-minded men standing next to a painting.  As one looks at the photo, the painting takes up the left half and the three men occupy the right half.  If you have been to a wedding reception in the last 20 years, you most likely had a chance to see guests dancing to the Village People’s song “YMCA.”  When the chorus sings the letters “Y-M-C-A,” people move their arms to make the shapes of each letter.  It’s pretty standard in my neck of the woods.  So, in this blasphemous photo, the men are forming the letters M, C, and A, in the correct order.  What’s missing? The Y, of course!

The missing Y is supplied by the painting.  The painting is huge and of a sole figure whose arms are indeed stretched out and above the level of his head.  Although his arms aren’t as high as the typical dance-floor letter-makers, in the context of being with the three men, one easily knows he is the “Y.” Have you guessed who the he is?  It is Christ.  But it gets worse.  It is Christ hanging on the cross, his weakness and body weight obviously dragging his body down, while his hands are affixed and immovable.

It sounds potentially hideous, doesn’t it?  But, I laughed out loud when I saw it.  And I’ve laughed at it many times since.  This started me on my own reflection: would God get the joke?  Would h/He laugh?  I can imagine many reasons why he would not.  If I saw a photo of one of my sons being crucified and others were doing the YMCA, I would not be the least bit amused.  However, this Holy Trinity being is someone bigger, wiser, and gooder (yes – “gooder”) than I.  I also think that he might be slightly tickled.  Or pleased.  Pleased that his son lived with these weirdo humans and they are making a connection to him.  That they are not feeling that the God-son is unapproachable, untouchable, unhuman. 

The Christian Bible contains the words, “Jesus wept.”  I fully believe that at many times in his life, Jesus laughed.   Belly-laughed.  Belly-laughed until his stomach hurt and tears rolled down his cheeks.  So, can he be the “Y” in YMCA or is that blasphemy?

Leaf blower. 

Holy Guacamole.  A person can’t use a rake?  Instead, does the populace need to have energy wasted and ears accosted with the blowing of a motorized leaf mover?  C’mon!

Fireworks with commercials.

Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I like the fireworks displays in which you hear the explosions of the gunpowder and the crowd’s unrehearsed oohs and ahs serving as a communal rating system.  I like being able to talk to my children or companions about whether we REALLY liked that last one and recalling fireworks of years past.  I neither need nor enjoy going to the local minor league baseball games on a firework night and having blaring music and twelve announcements thanking WhosieFoos Chevrolet for bringing us this display.

Motorized snow shovel.

Not a snow blower, a motorized shovel.  Another: C’mon!  If you are that weak, let a neighborhood kid earn a little money shoveling your walk.

Nail polish.

Yeah, yeah, it’s pretty and makes a gal or boi look sophisticated, BUT… does it really make much sense to coat one’s finger ends with plastic that must be removed by using toxic chemicals?

Children’s books that read themselves to the child.

Here is a novel idea: how about having a caring adult, such as a parent, sit with the child?  This adult can read the story – adjusting length to custom-fit the need of the wee one , explain, react, repeat, make jokes, ask questions, act it out.  In other words, this adult could act like a parent instead of a disinterested gamete-donor.  Wow.  I feel like a revolutionary.

A few sage individuals recognized that the United States’ Gulf Wars One and Two were subterfuges to control property (oil) which was not ours.  Energy dependency is an ugly addiction.  It leads the addict to lie, cheat, and steal.  Instead of veiling ugly greed with political ruses and artifices, let’s take the high road.  God gave us the sun’s light and heat.  Let’s use them.

Federal legislation often appropriates just about any area it wants.  How? By contending that the matter is related to the Commerce clause.  Ah, that Constitution and its division of powers can come in handy.   Therefore, it should not be too problematical for the feds to encourage and reward the development of competitive and effective solar energy for homes and businesses.

Other federal laws have created all sorts of rapid and inconvenient (as viewed by some) mandates. A recent example is the ADA, the Americans with Disability Act.  Within that law, accommodations are required in schools and businesses for individuals with disabilities.  The standard is supposed to be for“reasonable” accommodations, but  American lawsuit-wary companies have gone to extraordinary lengths to make changes (in my opinion).  So, if we can flip out businesses over wheelchair ramps, why can’t we flip them out over green roofs and solar collectors?

Federal laws for compulsory solar energy use will boost the economy, not by our traditional routine of having defense industries gearing up, but by having energy industries exploding.  In addition to saving the earth’s climate, there will be another handsome result: less inappropriate dependency on foreign energy resources.  Furthermore, we can improve world opinion of us.  Let’s abandon our appearance as a bunch of greedy, controlling pigs. The American people can turn energy production concepts upside-down with a little encouragement from the federal government. 

Back to the Future is the name of a series of three successful movies imagining what could result if someone had opportunities to go into the future, back to the present, back to the future, and so on.  It is mind candy: thinking of all the implications and possibilities to right wrongs, get revenge, or achieve wealth through the unfair advantage of knowledge of world events to come.  The third movie in the series actually exchanged time travel between the present and the past, with happy endings for all. In these days of concern about finances, going Back to the Past can create a happy ending for you, too.  I recommend going to back to the days of bartering.

Of course, bartering existed before civilizations developed tokens representing work or value.  These tokens were money.  However, even after the introduction of currency, people have bartered.  In the informal setting, bartering happens among neighbors, friends, family.  It is often couched in terms of “doing a favor.”  The favor is then returned with a different good or service.  Furthermore, a concern for insuring that value is always perfectly matched (keeping score) is frequently absent from these arrangements.  Participants feel that it will all come out even in the end.

On the other hand, one can barter more formally and with strangers. There is a barter category on Craigslist.  I recently completed a barter arrangement through a Craigslist ad which was delightful.  The other participant and I really felt highly satisfied.  It was a win-win scenario.  Becky (not real name) advertised an offer for website design and set-up know-how in exchange for special project house cleaning.  I seized upon this because I have long wanted a website.  She seized upon me, I guess, because I was as eager as the family dog responding to “Do you want to go OUT?”  So, we were both able to help each other with services we could not perform for ourselves.  (Check it out: www.marenmorganthomson.com!)

Hence, there is a way to get possessions or work you desire without an outlay of cash.  Whether informally or informally, consider a barter agreement.  It is painless to the pocket.