Instead of Regrets, Instill New System and "Show Up"

Regrets are aspects of my memory that don't really do me a whole lot of good in the present times.  I can easily get myself into a pattern of regret about wasting my school year evenings avoiding doing assigned homework. Then I can devise a system that might have retroactively worked to show that I at least showed up with the homework, producing a product that by no means needed to remotely approach excellence.  But examining the state of mind I was usually in after a grueling-long day at school puts me into a different attitude toward homework avoidance, and it has almost nothing to do with regret.  Nowadays at age 69 I can see the coming evening and I am quite comfortable recognizing that it is natural for me to feel tired, both mentally and physically, as nighttime descends and I want to eventually begin to enjoy a hopefully good night's sleep. I suppose that, alternatively, I could have intentionally gone to bed (sleep) early in the evening and gotten up early in the (school) morning around five, opening up my books around then with coffee on the dining room table.  As Andrew Huberman has repeatedly pointed out, sometimes the transformational moment for someone like myself can be simply showing up and making a nominal effort, placing a strict time limit on how long and how hard I go at whatever happens to be my project.  I suppose that at this stage in my earthly existence, since I am still ambulatory and can think for myself, this strategy of instilling a new system that emphasizes early morning activity is feasible and relevant.  Let's see how this goes... 

Support Groups, Fight Club and Grief

When I was nine, I was going to a brand-new public school: Nova Blanche Forman Elementary School, known then more commonly and simply as Nova Elementary.  Over time I made a few friends out there in Davie, cowboy country in south Florida.  One day a few of us got together and informally established our own fight club, transforming into a sport and ritual an activity usually reserved for bullies and angry kids.  Surprisingly, it lasted longer than you might think, although with my ribs poking through my chest...making me look like a concentration camp survivor...I quickly got tired of the good-natured blows that naturally would come my way.  So I totally got the meaning behind the concept of an adult fight club, presented with such force in that 1999 same-titled movie. My son Will revealed, though, that this movie went down into a rabbit hole of plot twists and deeper meaning, so one evening I began to watch it...from the beginning.  Presented in the first person, the narrator...played by Edward Norton...is suffering from extreme insomnia stemming from his depression about his mundane, boring life.  He hits upon the strategy of participating in support groups to cure his insomnia, even though he usually doesn't have any connection with the groups' themes.  So my exposure to support groups, along with the way they go around in a circle during discussion time with the members spilling their hearts out, began in full earnest with this movie.  Earlier this evening I attended a "grief care" support group presented at a local church...Melissa suggested it.  I'm not sure what I see myself getting from it, but there I am, within this group.  We're committed to anonymity about the people in it as well as the specific stories told. Had I still been working and not retired like I did, I'd have the perfect excuse for avoiding it...I just DON'T LIKE support groups.  Earlier I mentioned that Will was the one who told me about the movie Fight Club: his recent passing is the core reason behind this support group having me "in" it.  Like the protagonist Jake Epping in Stephen King's wonderful novel 11/22/63, I am not a crying man by nature...although the tears are often simmering just under the surface.  I just never thought of life as being endless: it's mortal, with our life spans on Earth bracketed between the year of our birth and that of our deaths.  This mortal physical body that goes by the name William "Bill" "Billy" Irwin belongs to the life span begun in 1956, and the end year has yet to reveal itself.  I am dead to the year 1856, and most likely won't extend to the year 2200 as well (unless Putin's dubious immortality vaccine comes to the rescue).  I'm also dead to wherever my body isn't...I'm looking out the window and my life isn't there: it's here, seated at this keyboard writing this.  The HERE AND NOW, in essence, defines me in a subjective sense and cannot be quantified by physical science in any objective manner. My eventual experience of dying will, of necessity, be conceptually very different from what others experience about my death from their viewpoints.  It's a great quandary, this gulf between subjective awareness and objective observation, and since time marches on without regard to how I feel about anything, I might as well relax and entertain a sense of inner peace about it all, tedious support group or not.  Either I'll survive others or they'll survive me...

Major League Baseball Regular Season Now Underway

The official opening day for Major League Baseball's 2025 regular season began yesterday...although more than a week earlier it actually started in Japan with a two-game series between the Los Angeles Dodgers and Chicago Cubs.  Baseball is one of those sports that I can have on the TV and watch, with it not being important if I find myself distracted with another activity.  I find it interesting how the broadcasters show an imaginary virtual strike zone for each pitch...and how, just as often as not...on the close pitches the plate umpire calls it wrong as a strike or ball.  I think at this juncture that I'm pretty much cured of the notion of having a favorite team to follow...just get a game going and I'll figure the rest out for myself, and it doesn't matter how lopsided the score gets.  Baseball is a game that I have never personally played, although in physical education class in high school we did softball...I was a pretty decent singles hitter but never had any training with fielding or pitching.  In those classes I always had, as an "instructor", jock coaches who just got games going without teaching anything about the sport...and the kids who played in leagues outside school naturally dominated (and got higher grades). I remember back in the late 1970's and early 1980's how the "Superstation" WTBS, under Atlanta communications tycoon Ted Turner, would show every Atlanta Braves game live.  Now, though, that sort of service is solely reserved for paid premium subscribers and if I want to see baseball, I have to accept whichever matchup that they feel like serving up.  No problem, but I do get a little tired of seeing, for the overwhelming part of 2-3 hours that make up a typical game, all these multimillionaires just standing around doing nothing, the only consistent workhorses being the pitcher on the mound and the catcher behind the plate...

Balancing Competitiveness and Perspective in Running

When I was attending high school and went out for the track team (11th grade, winter/spring of 1973), my conception of sports...and in particular running...was almost exclusively based on beating other athletes.  This was due in large part to the fact that everyone else...including my teachers and coaches...saw it all in the same way, making clear distinctions between the amount of regard and respect they demonstrated to their "star" performers and the rest of the less talented rabble (like me).  So I didn't "letter" that one time I went out for sports in school...yet the experience was transformative in that it opened up the aerobic athletic lifestyle that I maintained...either through running, walking or bicycle riding...pretty much for the past fifty years.  When I was a little kid I was one of the fastest sprinters around...I see this a lot when I'm at Depot Park on Saturday morning and get passed by a little boy or girl who only knows how to run all-out...almost always they quickly tire and I'm soon easily passing them in turn.  I don't run races to beat others, but rather to cover the distance and do it in a reasonable, hopefully progressively faster, time.  Sure, I check age group categories for the races that divide up finishers, but even with these as often as not the trinket awards they say they are going to hand out never get handed out (like with the recent marathon race). And besides, there's only just so much room in my house for "stuff".  No, not only do I not run against others, but it actually irritates me when I'm approaching the finish line and another runner is just ahead of me.  I would rather finish just behind him or her, and I feel it's kind of tacky-looking to pass them right at the very end...yet I would have to actually slow down in order to avoid that...yes, annoying.  A friend has suggested we get together for pickle ball, which sounds good.  Yet while it means virtually nothing to win a pickle ball match (a sport I've never played), competition is also an innate part of it all.  Sometimes it's hard to find a proper balance...

Anybody Else Following the '24 World Series?

 This past Saturday, if you looked hard enough among all the TV channels featuring college football games, you might have discovered that Major League Baseball's vaunted World Series had begun.  I'm curious: without first looking it up, do you even know who's playing?  Or, for that matter, have you ever followed baseball?  When I was a little kid, I collected (along with my father) baseball cards we cut out of the back of Post cereal boxes.  I knew of Mickey Mantle, Willy Mays, Roger Maris and Yogi Berra...to name a few...but at the time (1962, I was around six) I didn't really know anything about the game itself.  You step up to home plate, swing at the ball the pitcher throws at you with your bat, and try to make first base.  But I had never played the game, and to be perfectly truthful, at my more advanced age of 68 I still haven't.  Oh sure, we would have weeks in school physical education class when softball would be the sport of interest, but even our version of that game was modified a bit.  Nevertheless, I came to enjoy following it, especially with the beginning of the 1969 season...that was the year the "Miracle Mets" astonished everyone and won it all.  Then, over the years I'd sometimes keep up with what was going on...and sometimes the World Series would pass by with hardly a notice.  I do notice one thing: whereas before I would be more interested in the teams, now I like to sit back and observe the process of the unfolding game.  This 2024 season saw a traditionally familiar matchup in the World Series: the American League champion New York Yankess vs. the National League's pennant-winning Los Angeles Dodgers.  Before tonight's contest...played in Yankee Stadium in the Bronx...L.A. had won the series' first three games, largely through the home run heroics of their first baseman Freddie Freeman, and were aiming for a series sweep.  And wouldn't you know, Freeman stepped up again early on and delivered yet another home run, putting them ahead.  But the Yankee bats woke up finally and pounded out 11 runs, handily winning this contest.  So tonight they'll be at it again, and without all those college football games to compete against for viewers' attention... 

Quote of the Week...from Jack McTavish

Nonsense, go out harder and finish harder.             Jack McTavish, Dean Karnazes' high school track coach

Dean Karnazes is a famous long-distance runner who wrote the popular book a few years ago titled Ultramarathon Man...I've read it a number of times and it was a big inspiration to me when I returned to the sport in my early fifties.  In an early chapter he described his first high school track coach, Jack McTavish, who made a big impression on Karnazes.  McTavish's advice on running races was simple: always run hard...forget about pacing yourself.  The above quote was his response to Karnazes telling him that he needed some left-over energy for the race's final kick.  Although I'm not totally in the Coach's corner about this one issue, I do think something can be said for me going out harder at the start of the races I've been running.  One thing I've noticed in a race's early stage is that the simple presence of the other runners surrounding me produces an inhibitory hindrance to my speed...I have to intentionally run harder just to get through the crowd.  I've also had numerous experiences over the years with negative racing splits, that is, running the second half faster than the first...an indicator that I was erring on the side of caution earlier on.  I think having someone like McTavish at a formative time in a kid's life can have a great influence on them.  Unfortunately, I can't recall this happening for me.  But you know, that doesn't mean I can't derive some inspiration from someone else's experience.  Thanks, Dean...and Coach McTavish...

Swimming: My Past, Present and Future

Although I grew up in south Florida just a few miles from the beach and visited it numerous times with my family, I didn't learn how to swim until I was twelve years old, and that was only because my high school, in 1968, just had its own swimming pool built.  Before, in the ocean, I would just get out in the waves in water nearly over my head and float on my inner tube...the fact that I couldn't swim didn't seem to bother anybody!  Yet if I got in a swimming pool, I'd be afraid of the water, go figure!  Even after learning to swim, though, I got no practice in my swimming style...I was taught the rudiments of the American freestyle crawl stroke that one time and that was it.  In physical education class in high school, I was always by far the slowest in swimming...that was pretty humiliating.  It was only when my kids were growing up and taking their own swimming lessons that I became more serious about improving my swimming skills...but still I lagged behind.  I did, at the advanced age of 40, finally learn to float on my back, yet I still haven't figured out treading water.  Back in 2011, seeing a friend doing laps at my nearby YMCA pool using the breaststroke, I decided that year to try to develop it on my own.  I seemed to be making some slow progress, but a serious medical diagnosis later that year sidelined this project, and I didn't resume it...until now, some twelve years later.  What I'd like to do is develop most of the basic swimming skills, including at least the crawl, breaststroke, backstroke, and treading water, to the point where I can go for a sustained period performing pool laps.  I've set aside Friday evenings to get pool time at my local gym, and I do have several instructive YouTube videos to draw upon for guidance. It should be a fun adventure of sorts.  What to do with it all?  Just swim more on my own, I guess. Although swimming is regarded as a generally kinder sport on the body than running, it is more limited regarding public racing events in comparison to the latter because of the constraints of providing suitable water venues.  I've been kind of dismayed by this, since this has made the sport a bit more elitist than is running/walking, which has gained a lot of popularity among folks-at-large and allows more participation at slower levels of ability...

Looking (and Laughing) at Ridiculous Trends of the Past...and the Present

Sometimes people post old pictures of themselves and their buddies on my high school nostalgia website.  Everyone...especially the boys...has long, long hair that's screaming for professional style haircuts.  And those sad omnipresent bell-bottom jeans: give me a break! I don't know of anyone back then in the early seventies who deliberately preferred, on their own initiative, this style of clothing.  No, it was something that the fashion industry imposed on the population and one day, that's all people had to choose from...at least that's the way I remember it.  In any event, I think everyone looks kind of dopey in those old pics, and it's largely because they were following the herd mentality in trying to fit in and look like everyone else.  Don't think that I'm letting our present time off the hook.  Nowadays the "in" public appearance revolves around carrying one's cell smartphone in the hand, spending inordinate time looking down at it instead of paying attention to their ongoing surroundings and situations.  I know this because I regularly drive to work here in Gainesville down US-441 past the University of Florida, midday when the students are flooding the sidewalks with their presence.  Students who walking in couples or groups don't stare at the phones, but a large percentage of the "singletons" just go walking down the sidewalks...even crossing busy streets...with their eyes glued to their object, even when the sun is glaring down on them making actually seeing anything at least theoretically impossible.  I couldn't do that simply because I'm afraid I'd trip on something and fall on my ass...these kids must have an inner gyroscope guiding their motions!  I'm speaking from 1973 to 2023 here, but what will be it like fifty more years in the future, in 2073, when these very students are old fogies like me and are themselves observers of the passing scene: how will the inevitable changes manifest themselves?  I don't see this smartphone culture as static in the least.  Cyber technology will become more internalized and private, to the point I think that folks from the future will be laughing at images of these people stuck on their phones today.  In that sense I'm already way ahead of my own time.  On the other hand, those 2073 folks may be laughing at stuff they see from 2023 that I think is perfectly normal...  

Quote of the Week...from Katrina Mayer

 Books were my friends when no friends were around.                ---Katrina Mayer

On my Facebook page often appear certain sites that were provided for my viewing without me directly requesting them...I always assumed that the AI running the show over at FB thought I'd like them.  One of these is "Goodwill Librarian", which is spot-on in nailing my affection for books and reading.  Wednesday morning, they posted the above quote by Katrina Mayer, an author who conducts "positivity" workshops.  Checking out her website, she immediately won me over by this other quote: "I'm an avid fan of solitude, peaceful surroundings and simplicity." I am a big fan of books and reading, almost always in the middle of two or three at a time, both in fiction and nonfiction as well as novels and short story collections.  During some of the most negative periods of my youth, reading provided a solace and a sense of rational foundation that no doubt saved me from treading down more pernicious and self-destructive paths. I was blessed to have parents and an older sister who were avid readers, and I often secretly raided their storehouse of books.  My dad was particularly keen on science fiction, and through him I was introduced to old-time science fiction greats like Frederic Brown and Clifford Simak.  I was also partial to the inexpensive books I could buy after saving up my meager allowance, especially the Herbert S. Zim Golden Guides to science and nature...the one about stars has to be my all-time favorite.  The ironic thing about my reading is that, with a small number of notable exceptions, most of my reading assignments in high school were negative experiences...I'm convinced that my teachers and the educational system they worked under...at least back then...were clueless and that they saw me an annoyance they had to get past to get through their days, not as a valuable individual with future potential.  But back to the books: when I could choose them, I loved them...and still do.  Now, though, I'm putting more and more of them on my Kindle as well as reading a ton of audiobooks...but they're still books and they are friends...

Mixed Feelings about High School and College Football

I was watching some of the college football games on TV this past Saturday and understand why so many of us are mesmerized by the sport.  It's all a kind of adventure story with action, interspersed with breaks to analyze what's going on and what will (or should) happen next, depending on which team you're rooting for.  Unfortunately, football is also very violent, taking a punishing toll on the body.  I remember in the eleventh grade in high school as one of my social studies teachers one day went on an anti-football rant, decrying its violence and effects on young people's bodies, often limiting and hobbling them later in life as well as posing a significant danger of brain damage.  The kids in the class, most of them ardent football fans if not players themselves, took this lecture all in stride seeing that this dude was widely regarded as one of the "cool" teachers.  At the time I was on the track team and the football team was doing spring "conditioning" for the next fall in the track's interior...I put that word in quotes because all they seemed to be doing was hitting each other as hard as they could, further weakening their bodies for future injury.  And that indeed happened, with many key players later sidelined for the season as the varsity football team in my senior year went 0-9-1.  That fall, while "my" team was losing game after game, I went to Hollywood Memorial Hospital for a scheduled hernia repair operation...which would turn out to be the only general anesthesia surgery I would undergo until 2021 when I had open heart surgery to replace a defective heart valve and repair an aortic aneurism.  I shared my recovery room with two other teenage boys, both suffering leg injuries from playing football, each kid a couple of years younger than me.  Their buddies would traipse in and out of the room treating them like war heroes.  Saturday night's South Carolina at Tennessee game reminded me of that time as the crazy-ass fans in the stands would wildly cheer whenever their team put an extremely hard hit on the other while they would be respectfully silent when someone went down and couldn't get back up, having to be carted off the field.  I think the Suzanne Collins Hunger Games series may have at least unconsciously derived from this duplicity from fans of wanting violence in a controlled setting and then acting like it's a shame when someone gets hurt (or, in the Hunger Games, killed).  So yes, I like a good story, and football can provide some good ones.  Still, I like to think I'm not quite as bloodthirsty about it as some of my fellow fans are...

Quote of the Week...from Niels Bohr

 An expert is a person who has made all the mistakes that can be made in a very narrow field. 

                                                                           ---Niels Bohr

Neils Bohr (1885-1962) was a Danish physicist, one of the most instrumental scientists in history who made crucial contributions toward the creation of the theory of quantum mechanics.  He was a great teacher and role model for his ethics and understanding in his chosen field.  He also apparently understood quite well about the nature of learning and how necessary action is, along with the required trait of not being afraid to made mistakes in the pursuit of higher academic attainment.  I loved the above quote when I found it, for I'm dealing with similar issues regarding my study of foreign languages...although I'm confident that a Nobel Prize of the sort that Bohr received isn't going to be in the works for me.  For the past few months I've been following polyglot Steve Kaufmann, subscribing to his excellent Internet foreign language study site called LingQ,  Kaufmann is an advocate of absorbing vast amounts of material in the target language through listening and reading while allowing the human brain to work its own magic as it is specifically designed to acquire language without the need to go through painstaking rules and memorization of the kind students over the ages have been subjected to (and still are).  But he also emphasizes that during the process many mistakes will be made...and that's all right, it's a part of the learning!  But people have been conditioned from both the pressures in school of being "correct" for good grades and possible public humiliation around others for goofing up when they try to express themselves.  I even once had a Russian professor at UF who told his class that they could say anything they wanted to him in Russian, only that they had better say it right: that shut everyone up in a hurry! When I worked more than forty years ago as a cook at a local Chinese restaurant, I noticed that of my Vietnamese coworkers who were trying to learn English, the ones who threw away their pride and jumped into speaking English, errors and all, quickly learned it while those afraid to sound silly took much, much longer.  Making mistakes is an important part of learning...schools should chiefly be concerned about keeping their students from blowing up the lab in the process instead of stifling their progress by creating artificial little phony pockets of perfection...

Quote of the Week...from Ernest Hemingway

I like to listen.  I have learned a great deal from listening carefully.  Most people never listen.

                                                                         ---Ernest Hemingway

In spite of my high school English class experiences practically ruining it all for me, I later came to read most of Ernest Hemingway's classic novels, among them For Whom the Bell Tolls being my favorite.  I especially appreciated his stated plain writing style, avoiding fancy and cryptic techniques employed by some of his contemporaries that often garnered them undeserved critical acclaim but made their works largely unreadable by the general public.  Today being his birthday, I thought I'd throw in one of Hemingway's quotes in celebration, and this one rang true to me...well, mostly true.  I think most folks, when engaged with others in conversation, are only half-listening, at the same time preparing the next thing they will say themselves.  On top of that, people tend to hold on to personal narratives concerning just about any person, place, thing, or issue.  They will be happy to "listen" for a while if the speaker is affirming that narrative and be equally happy to zone out or cut them off if they diverge from the script...and if the message is a mixed one, with some welcome information said along with some unwelcome facts, then it's a simple cognitive sleight of hand to accept the affirming stuff while ignoring the rest.  I can extend this all to reading, too, as well as whatever media channels one tends to prefer plugging their respective brains into.  If the message affirms a dearly held narrative belief system, regardless of reality, then they'll be a loyal audience...this is the world we live in today, where the population insulates themselves within comfortable belief bubbles where feedback loops reenforce distortions and lies as long as they fit the pattern.  Yet Hemingway died in 1962, so this sort of thing's long preceded the Internet and mass media manipulation tactics of today...

Quote of the Week...from Steve Kaufmann

The best way to learn a language is to massively ingest it, by listening and reading.  Listening and reading are so powerful.  If you can read the books, you know the language.  To get to know a language takes a lot of time and a lot of interacting with it...and a lot of that time has to be on your own.  I think it's better to work on comprehension and vocabulary without pressure to reproduce the language (by speaking). 

                                                                               ---Steve Kaufmann

Steve Kaufmann is a 77-year-old Canadian polyglot...that is, someone who speaks more than two languages...in his case, twenty to varying degrees.  He has spent his lifespan traveling and living abroad, investing years in his country's foreign service.  I've seen him on YouTube and he really does know his field, able to switch at a moment's notice from one language to another.  The above quote, which I lifted verbatim from the Wikipedia article about him, sums up his philosophy about learning languages. I have long felt that my formal academic education in foreign languages, from elementary school through high school and even college, totally got it wrong when emphasizing sometimes arcane grammar concepts, perfect pronunciation, and grading students on the "correctness" of their speech instead of doing what they should have been doing, which was to stress building vocabulary and increasing listening and reading comprehension.  My life experience has been very different from Kaufmann's although I have entertained a long-time interest in foreign languages...I've yet to set foot on another country's soil.  Yet in today's world of near-instant communication and vast resources through the Internet I find it easy to access material in any language I want to pursue...of course, Wikipedia is a great starting place, along with an instant translation program or app.  I can also translate this blog and then note the new vocabulary and structure in the target language...pretty cool!  Steve Kaufmann has his own podcasts and a language-learning company called "LingQ"...I've heard that it's of limited use in its free version and that the premium version, for about ten bucks a month, opens up a lot of links and vocabulary-building features in a number of languages.  But for now, I'm listening to Steve's podcasts and working on my listening and reading.  The languages I'm focusing on, all of which I already have a reasonable...but to me, pretty inadequate...degree of understanding, are Spanish, French, German, Russian and Chinese...

No Thanks, So-Called "50th" Class Reunion

This isn't going to be a very upbeat article, so you're welcome to pass on it if you would prefer. During the past few years, from time to time I wondered whether I would attend my high school's "Class of 1974" fifty-year reunion, should they decide to hold one.  I had avoided the previous reunions, thinking that maybe it would be better to let maybe just a little more time to separate me from those largely nightmare years of being "institutionalized" in a large public school ruled by bullies, snobs, and mostly indifferent teachers.  It was supposed to be the premier high school in my county with a higher number of wealthy families sending their kids there, so I'm assuming that the other places were probably higher in their percentage of bullies and lower with the snobs.  Don't get me wrong, I believe in forgiving although not necessarily forgetting the treatment I got back then as a kid just trying to get through each day.  I even picked up a few Facebook friends from there, although the only ones who ever responded to my posts on it were hard-right Trump kooks, full of venom whenever I wrote something they opposed...especially when I wrote some pieces urging gun regulation following mass shootings.  Finally, one of them put out a racist posting and I unfriended him...one night a few months ago I finally saw the writing on the wall and unfriended the entire lot of fellow alumni and haven't regretted it one bit.  So back to that upcoming reunion in 1974...I just got an email asking me for an RSVP on it...which was to start yesterday!  Uh, it's 2023 and unless my arithmetical skills are failing me, that's 49, not 50 years.  But wait, reading on I discovered that they decided to combine the classes of '73 and '74...guess they won't be holding one for my group next year after all.  In the email were listed those who had replied that they would be attending...one of them was the biggest, meanest bully of that class above me, a trained boxer no less, who I was stuck with for years at my own bus stop and who actually resembled the Scut Farkus bully character in the movie A Christmas Story: yeah, like I want to party with that dude!  They say the years can effect great changes on people...I know that's true in my own case, hopefully for the better.  But unless I see my old "buddies" from school show some of that change within themselves, I think I'd instead just rather keep my distance from them: better to just pick 100 strangers at random and have a wingding with them. Sadly, I feel that even holding a 6oth reunion wouldn't change anything...

Just Finished Reading I Am the Cheese by Robert Cormier

A couple of weeks ago while in Lexington, Kentucky we paid a visit to their Peddler's Market, a regional chain of flea markets presented on a higher, more customer-friendly level.  I found there an old paperback book, I Am the Cheese, by Robert Cormier, read the back accolade (School Library Journal Best Book of the Year, 1977) and picked it up, having just finished reading it.  It belongs to the "young adult" genre of fiction, and vividly reminded me of what was in vogue in film during that era.  We're talking about films and books full of devious government "deep state" secret and ruthless organizations preying upon innocent Americans, depriving them of their civil rights and even killing them should a decision come down from the top...The Parallax View, Marathon Man and Three Days of the Condor immediately come to my mind.  In I Am the Cheese, a teenage boy, Adam Farmer, finds himself desperately riding his bicycle down treacherous roads in rural Massachusetts to find his father, who he thinks is confined somewhere in southern Vermont.  Interspersed with the narrative of his adventures are sessions of him as a sort of patient/inmate being interviewed by a man calling himself Brint and being fed drugs whenever he gets too anxious as he describes his life, families, friends, enemies, and the special circumstances that had resulted in him being here.  The author presents it all as a mystery...one which is resolved at the book's end.  The question is whether an ordinary citizen can live a life of integrity and decency and, when presented with a tough decision, be able to rely on his government to back him up.  The answer in this story by Cormier, known to have written some pretty depressing books, is a resounding NO...which shouldn't surprise anyone recalling the culture of suspicion and conspiracies popularized in the kinds of movies I mentioned earlier. Somebody I know talked to me about this book many, many years ago but I forgot who...I just know that it came out after I finished high school.  But it's clearly the kind of reading I suspect many, many school kids from that time were assigned in English classes.  I'm not knocking the story per se, but the narrative here...along with the stuff coming out from other sources...fed into what I think eventually caused a groundswell of popular cynicism about government and its intentions: demagogic political outsiders, I believe, like Ross Perot and Donald Trump, would later manipulate that negative feeling to their advantage...

Quote of the Week...from George Santayana

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.     ---George Santayana

There is a corollary to this quote by the famous Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana (1863-1952): "A country without a memory is a country of madmen".  I first encountered his writing during my senior high school English class in late 1973...I had just turned 17.  It was an assigned book containing short essays from different intellectuals of the past.  Santayana's contribution was dry and pretentious...and I said as much on my subsequent written report, for which I received a grade of "9" (that school's equivalent of "A+").  But Santayana's legacy rests not so much in essays or books as it does in aphorisms, which is a fancy way of saying short, profound quotes.  With these he was right on target, as the above two illustrate.  My experience with politics and the rise of authoritarianism in some countries tells me that not only can we point back to world history of times like the early twentieth century, but also, we can see trends in our present mimicking those that led to the loss of freedom and democracy in different countries. The problem as I understand it is that within most nations exists a substantial core population of people who I conveniently term the "rabble".  They tend to view intellectuals as alternately weak and manipulative, while viewing strongarm leaders as effective and worthy of their devotion, at the same time tending to scapegoat various segments of the population as causing their own problems as they embrace tailor-made conspiracy theories to support their own prejudices...sound familiar?  The ominous revival of fascism here in America is also going on in other parts of the world...and I think this process is cyclical with that core potential in the population to keep stirring things up.  I'd hate to think we're getting another Hitler, but as Santayana said, those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it...and yes, a country without a memory is a country of madmen.  As for the philosopher's other writing, age has mellowed my earlier negative reaction to it.  When you're a novelist, you are writing with the general reader in mind, tailoring your language and narrative to their level and perspective.  When you're an academic, your papers will come out in a language that covers your thesis and arguments as completely as possible...this can result in that dry, almost unreadable text that students have long suffered with their assigned math textbooks.  Still, I'm partial to Santayana's aphorisms...

Podcaster Talks About the Need to Mess Things Up

On his Mindset Mentor podcast (20 minutes each, four days a week), personal development coach Rob Dial tends to repeat the same principles, often packaging them slightly differently.  One recurring theme he consistently stresses is the crucial importance of letting oneself mess things up.  And it's not just because too many of us (myself included) are too hesitant to start something new because we fear we'll make fools of ourselves.  It's important to get past that fallacy, to be sure, but there's another factor to consider as well.  By making mistakes, "cocking it up" as James Bond's boss likes to warn him against, this focuses the brain on the problem with epinephrine supplied by the body to help with the necessary learning. Messing up, or "f##king up" as Dial so eloquently puts it, is an integral part of education.  Which made me consider once again how "ass-backwards" my own school experiences were, with teachers awarding perfection with high grades and deducting grades for mistakes.  One Russian professor in college even told my class that we could say anything in Russian to him, but only if it was mistake-free!  And my experiences while working decades ago with Vietnamese refugees in the kitchen of a local Chinese restaurant supported Dial's conjecture: those who put their pride aside and tried to communicate as much as possible in English...no matter how clumsily...quickly learned it fluently while others fearful of not saying things "right" were much, much slower in their learning. Sometimes Rob Dial says stuff that is affirming, and, in a way, this podcast was as well.  But it's more affirming with what I see in others rather than in what I myself am doing, sad to say...I have a lot of work ahead of me in this area...

Quote of the Week...from Stephen King

Let's face it.  No kid in high school feels as though they fit in.                  ---Stephen King

I remember conservative "no-spin" spinner Bill O'Reilly once making a similar comment to Stephen King's above quote when he said that kids were naturally awkward.  I think both of them speak mostly truth here, but I need to make an important distinction between what someone was feeling during that period in their life and his or her actual outward demeaner.  When I was going through junior and senior high school (I just missed out on the "middle school" experience), I was continually baffled by the confident, sometimes even arrogant composure of my fellow classmates.  Surely as humans we shared the same biological processes: weren't their changing bodies also wreaking the same havoc with their minds as mine was?  In retrospect, I'm sure they were going through a lot of the same stuff I was, but they had learned to cover it all up...a mask I think many have never gotten around to taking off.  As for me, I don't think I ever got over adolescence...when I was a little kid, I thought I already had everything figured out by the time I was nine.  And then the big change came and screwed everything up. Like most of us, I have both good and bad memories of that period in my life, but unlike the movies I can't go back in a time machine and change it all...nor should I: like that great old Star Trek: The Next Generation episode Tapestry, it's all crucial in making me what I am now, for better or for worse.  And if there is a specific regret about something I may have done wrong back in those bygone years, then I can still see whether I can apply what I learned to my life in the "now", where all of reality exists anyway...

Constellation of the Month: Virgo (the Maiden)

 

Virgo, the maiden or virgin, is the zodiac sign between Leo and Libra as well the constellation on that celestial belt, prominent in the south in the May evening sky (from the perspective of northern latitudes).  I'm inclined to believe it's also the biggest of the zodiac constellations, taking up a large section of that sector of the sky.  Virgo has one bright, first-magnitude star in Spica, a binary star some 250 light years distant, and which stands out starkly to the naked eye against its relatively faint neighboring stars. A funny, trivial event about Spica occurred when I was in high school...if I still remember it I guess it wasn't so trivial, though.  I was in my senior year sitting in the math library doing homework when a kid a couple of years younger, who attended the same astronomy club meetings as myself, approached me holding a book.  He pointed to the star Spica and asked me how I pronounced it.  I replied "spike-uh" and he triumphally responded "You're wrong, it's "spee-kuh" and pointed to the book's pronunciation guide, which turned out to confirm my version, not his.  Flustered, he just walked away, defeated.  I think I remember that weird, random event because it exemplified the general smartass, know-it-all attitude I encountered among my classmates back then...even decades later, after I began this blog, I got hit with the same hypercompetitive type of petty one-upmanship from kids...now supposedly adults...with whom I attended that high school: I never gave a hoot about how you pronounced something as long as we both understood what we were talking about.  But back to Virgo: this constellation does contain several deep-space Messier objects in a region (see above map for the Virgo Cluster), all of them other galaxies: M49, 58, 59, 60, 61, 84, 86, 87, 89 and 90...whew, that's a lot! But then consider that not only does this cluster contain some 1300-2000 galaxies, but that astronomers regard it as being "small"...I don't know about you, but that makes me feel really, really small in the grand scheme of things...  

When I step outside this time of year to view the night sky, the first star I look for, facing east, is Arcturus in Boötes (the first constellation I wrote about, in June of 2020)...then I trace a line south and west (down and to the right) and there's my old, far-away friend Spica.  And with this article, I've now gone around the sky twice, covering 24 different interesting constellations. Next month I plan to begin Year Three...

Three Good Teachers on Teacher Appreciation Day

Today is National Teacher Appreciation Day...I discovered that this morning while watching The Weather Channel...my main source of news this days.  Although I've been critical in general of the educational system I lived through during my childhood and early adult years, there were three teachers who stood out at different stages.  When I first went to school in September, 1962 at Boulevard Heights Elementary School in West Hollywood, Florida, I had skipped the kindergarten year that seems to be such a heavily-stressed requirement for kids nowadays. No problem, for Mrs. Parsons, my first-grade teacher, made sure that we kids covered the basics of reading, writing, counting and elementary arithmetic.  There's no doubt in my mind that I was fortunate to be blessed with this great teacher who got everyone on the right track in their educational "careers".  Years later, in my senior year of high school at Nova in 1973-74, I had what in retrospect was my only truly effective math teacher since the early elementary school years, Mr. Buttles, who introduced us to calculus.  For some reason, schools...at least the ones I went to...had a major problem with teaching mathematics on any level.  In some classes they just sat you down and you went through the textbooks on your own with teachers present only if you needed special help with a problem or concepts while others had the teacher standing up front...not actually teaching anything...letting the students pretty much run the class: these were the so-called "advance level" math classes I regret ever having taken.  But Mr. Buttles stuck to the good old traditional way of teaching, going chapter by chapter and writing on the chalkboard each new concept and patiently explaining them to us...sometimes good teaching is being simple and plain with the presentation.  Finally, in my first year at Broward Community College the very next year, Mr. Hill was the teacher lecturing in general chemistry.  Much of the material we covered there I had already studied in high school, but he presented things in such an organized, deliberate manner that I was able to pick up things that I missed in the previous years.  He was very respectful of the students, pausing several times each lecture to allow for students' questions, which he strongly encouraged.  To this day I hold Mr. Hill as the supreme model of how a teacher should conduct a class and relate to the students...

Parsons, Buttles, and Hill...I appreciate you and remember you for standing out high above the often-mediocre teachers I had to suffer throughout my school years.  I know, that doesn't sound very much like a ringing endorsement of teachers in general, but I do know a good teacher when I see one.  By the way, I never saw any teacher as a replacement for my own parents...even in the first grade...and in turn they never acted like they were personally involved in my welfare (nor did I ever expect them to).  Yet the best of the best conducted themselves in a professional manner and actually taught...