Morality Series: Envy

“Do not overrate what you have received, nor envy others. He who envies others does not achieve peace.” ~ Buddha

Let’s say that you and your close friend try out or compete for the same thing. It could be making the team, getting either a promotion or an award, or winning the lottery. You learn that your friend makes the team, got the promotion, or won the prize. You did not. How do you feel?

First, if you are an adult, you’re happy for your friend. If you’re a teenager (or you need to read The Untethered Soul), you may get out the voodoo doll and some pins, or begin some plot against your former friend.

envy-4 We may begin to feel something else. It’s an emotion that we don’t want to feel, but it’s there. It’s a twinge we feel on the inside that is directly related to our disappointment and that other person. We feel envy. We do! It’s normal, and it’s okay as long as we don’t act-out on that negative emotion. I’ve never received recognition or a promotion (that others also wanted) without someone letting me know of their displeasure.

One time, I asked this guy, “Did you want me to turn it down so you can have it? I know you think you deserved or wanted it more than I did. Don’t you feel just a little petty right now?” I have been on the losing end enough times to recognize his emotion. Myself and I have had talks about that. I don’t like feeling envious. It makes me feel worse. Envy is not unusual. I often admit to the feeling.

So, if this is normal, why is it considered another breach of all that is good and holy within us? The reason is simple: this is not a good thing about our human nature. We know that envy is normal, and that it will pass, but it’s also dangerous. Loving friendships have ended. Businesses have suffered. Shame and embarrassment have been coopted by envy because the accompanying behavior make us feel worse. Envy is part of us, a dark corner of who and what we are. We must acknowledge that part of our dark side.

There is a shallow envy that is part of daily life. When I see men of my age with huge locks of thick, beautiful hair (usually gray), I feel mild envy. I admit it. I want what they have. That guy did nothing to deserve to have more than his share of hair follicles so late in life. I did nothing to promote my loss of the same. I’m almost proud of my envy. It’s true. I own up to it. I get it: envy is the desire for others’ traits, status, abilities, or situation.

In Summa Theologiae, Thomas Aquinas said, “Envy, according to the aspect of its object is contrary to charity, whence the soul derives its spiritual life… Charity rejoices in our neighbor’s good, while envy grieves over it.” Why do we do this? Because other people are so much luckier, smarter, more attractive, and better than we are. Lucky bastards.

envy-2 But there’s good news. If you go to Hell, your punishment awaits: you’ll be put in freezing water. I looked it up. Think about that. Hell, fire and all that; and you and I are hanging out at the ice bar. Now, it’s their turn to be envious, right?

I don’t know why, but envy is associated with the dog and the color green. Oh, right, the green-eyed monster. Not so fast. I use envy and jealousy as two different words that apply to different kinds of situations.

Envy and jealousy are not the same emotions. Envy, as unpleasant as it can be, usually doesn’t contain a sense of betrayal and outrage. Jealousy needn’t contain a sense of inferiority. The difference is in the numbers.

Envy is a two-person situation, jealousy is a three-person situation. Envy is a reaction to lacking something. Jealousy is a reaction to the threat of losing something or someone. Of course, when we feel jealous, we often feel envious as well.

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The opposite of envy is supposed to be charity. I think the more accurate word is love. Some experts say kindness. I say love, not because love will prevent envy, but because our love will help us overcome that part of our dark, selfish selves and we’ll find peace and happiness sooner. Love is the primary emotion. Envy and jealousy are both subordinate to fear, which is also primary. Both fall under the heading of wasted time and emotions since neither accomplish anything.

But, as long we are normal humans, we must deal with our feelings and emotions. It’s all about how we feel. The actions we choose to follow our emotions are up to us. Can we at least balance some light with our dark side?

Envy is real and normal. So is jealousy.
We generally see them as bad, weakness of the spirit, and damaging to life and our relationships. Consider both to be among life’s gaps.
Mind those gaps and look both ways. We need to see our own human darkness and weaknesses and deal with them.

Morality Series: Pride

Who or what are you proud of? Do you feel proud of yourself? If so, do you consider it immoral or sin?

Pride is an insufficient word for the immoral feeling that is an exaggerated sense of self. Hubris works a little better. Pride is often normal and not bad. As with any of these so called sins, when taken to psychological extremes, pride can become a problem that others often are more aware of than we see in ourselves. Behaviors associated with pride can become annoying, but we expect a proud bow from anyone doing well.

So, here I go again; playing devil’s advocate in the defense of normal human feelings and behavior that many religious people accept as sinfulness of the highest order. What’s even harder to understand is that this one is considered the worst of the worst. This is Lucifer’s sin, if you believe that. This self-opinion allegedly paves the way for all badness (or sin, if you prefer) to follow. In the words of C. S. Lewis and many other religious writers, its primacy is made clear.

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Are we to believe that humility, the alleged opposite, prevents us from immoral behavior? I can be most humble and immoral simultaneously. I can lust with humility oozing from my pores, or maybe it’s the other way around. Excuse me while I humbly eat the entire pizza and down a six-pack of beer.

Pride is mostly good, unless you’re Irish-Catholic, in which case you’ll hear, as I did in my youth, who the hell do you think you are? This put-down, shut-down, and buzz-kill phrase is more annoying than piles of pride.

Gay pride, black pride, being proud of self, kids and grands, other family and friends, school pride, pride in state or country, religious pride or pride in non-belief, the overcoming of adversity, pride in relationships, athletic team pride, corporate pride, and the list goes on. What’s wrong, bad, or sinful about any of this? Nothing!

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My entire life I’ve worked on my humility (minding that gap). One friend made a sarcastically funny plaque for me because I often discussed trying to be humbler. I thought that I’d be a better person if I was humble. Of course, I could be proud of my humility, right?

I think power often corrupts, and I’m sure that pride plays into that human fault. We should get this pride deal straightened out. Going overboard on my ego is indeed bad for me and for those around me. Fortunately, my family and friends have the chutzpa to point out my faults. I no longer have my dad to ask me, “Who the hell do you think you are?” I can still hear his voice when others remind me that I may be a bit full of myself. It happens, preferably seldom. Maybe pride is not exactly the correct word for me.

What about the other prideful words? Vanity? I pine for my hair and regret the loss of my locks. Conceit? Probably not me. I’ve known none who admit to this, but we easily see it others. Arrogance? I have the tee shirt for this one. I’m guilty. I can be arrogant as hell. Conversely, I admit when I’m wrong. I’ll apologize for any harm done. I don’t apologize for being wrong unless harm was done. I’ve been accused of arrogance for that. To me, I’m being sincere. Otherwise, I’d constantly be apologizing.

How about self-respect, self-esteem, or self-love? What of narcissism? I know that’s not pride, but we agree it’s an abnormal extreme, unless you’re a politician. Dictionary synonyms include pleasure, joy, delight, gratification, fulfillment, and satisfaction. I think I see a pattern here.

Is it possible that Christianity and some other religions are opposed to people finding pleasure in life?

Yours, mine, or theirs – what’s your take on the pride?

Hold your head up and walk tall. Be the person you are – true to yourself.
Be proud when you have reason.
Be happy in life, but look both ways and be mindful of any gaps.

Morality Series: LUST!

You’ve been waiting for this one, right?

lust-4 As a noun or verb; it means a very strong sexual desire, or a passionate desire for something. The synonym list is downright erotic: sexual desire, sexual appetite, sexual longing, ardor, desire, passion, libido, sex drive, sexuality, biological urge, lechery, lasciviousness, concupiscence, horniness, the hots, randiness, greed, desire, craving, covetousness, eagerness, avidity, cupidity, longing, yearning, hunger, thirst, appetite, hankering desire, be consumed with desire for, find sexually attractive, crave, covet, ache for, burn for, have the hots for, fancy, have a thing about or for, and drool over. (Whew) The key word in all of that is desire. This is not an act, it is merely a basic human want, or as George Carlin put it, “You gotta wanna.”

“It’s what’s in your mind that counts. Your intentions. Wanna is a sin all by itself….it was a sin for you to wanna feel up Ellen, it was a sin for you to plan to feel up Ellen, it was a sin for you to figure out a place to feel up Ellen, it was a sin for you to take Ellen to the place for you to feel her up, it was a sin to try to feel her up, and it was a sin to feel her up. There was six sins in one!” George Carlin, Class Clown, 1972.

When I get to be Pope, this lust deal comes off the list. The desire we call lust may cause us innumerable problems, but by itself, it’s no sin. It is not even bad. Our behavior may be bad. The desire may burden us in some way. We may not even admit to its existence. We lust, and we do it well. Were it not for bit of lust taken to the physical level about nine months before our original birthday, none of us would be here.

lust-9 I wanna. Before you tar and feather me for being a dirty old man (normal), know that I was raised Irish-Catholic, just like Carlin was. Human sexual desire for other humans is normal, good, healthy, and leads to some of the best moments in our lives, not to mention procreation of the species. A vigorous libido is a good thing to have. But, not everyone agrees with me. Most obviously, many Roman Catholics, and certainly not their leadership. I quote from a piece by Sam Guzman, republished in The Catholic Gentleman.

“In my own observation, lust seems the most obvious of the seven deadly sins, and also the one that can overcome the unwary Christian soul like a flash flood.”

I like the flash (flesh?) flood part. But lust isn’t bad – it’s not immoral. It’s normal. Sexual repression, on the other hand, is abnormal. Yet it is supposed be the hallmark of a good Christian life. Accepting the reality that lust is a feeling just like any other, and learning how to deal with it seems much healthier than trying to deny its existence, repressing it, and making millions of young people think they are going to burn for eternity because racing hormones are doing the talking. Think about it. We’ve all been there.

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One source I found said the opposite of lust is chastity. I disagree. You can do both: be chaste, but still lust. I looked up antonyms of lust, but the list is unsatisfactory. Only apathy (sloth?), and satisfaction (Rolling Stones song) got my attention. I don’t think there is a precise opposite for lust, unless it is not-lust, and that’s dumb. Maybe sloth is a good opposite, but how do we say having no desire, or not thinking? Dead? I wish not to be dead. Lust is a good sign that I’m not. Is un-wanna a real word?

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When I was challenged to do this series, the proposal was to juxtapose the sin with its opposite. In this case, I can’t point to anything, and it would be pointless anyway. Sorry, I just can’t get no satisfaction.

When we fight against nature, two outcomes are possible. Either nature wins, or our human nature becomes corrupt and disordered.

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Everything leads to something.
How we follow that path, and where it leads, is how we live.
Passion is good, desire is good, wanna is good! Lust to your heart’s content.
We get one life – live it well and enjoy the parts you can.
Mind any gaps and look both ways.

Nano Rebel – Dream On

2016 Nano ends at midnight next Wednesday. I’m passing 48 of the 50K goal today, so I’ll meet the challenge this weekend. However, as anyone who writes knows, there is much more for me to do.

musing2

For the past four weeks, my life has been like this: up between 5 and 8 AM, plan to write, but read the news, read and answer emails, look at my memoir and plan some more. But I only write a little. Look at Facebook and write some snarky comments there, read some blogs, go for a walk while listening to music for about an hour; return, eat, stretch, talk to wife, and finally begin to write.

Following an hour of writing; take a break, eat more, get coffee, then back to writing. After pushing out about a thousand words, take a long break and do more useful and constructive things like doing dishes, replacing light bulbs, talking to neighbors, and reading. I write more in the late afternoon and evening with interruptions for football, NCIS, or Blue Bloods. It seems to have worked because I’ve averaged almost 2,000 words each day.

musing1 But this memoir – the thinking, remembering, musing, pulling out old photos, doing ancestry research, looking for old friends and finding some, but reading obits of others — it’s so different because it is about me and people who’ve affected my life. Learning and writing about myself every day is interesting for a guy who disliked writing about himself.

Writing fewer words on this blog so you can listen to the song and see the lyrics that say it for me: Dream On, by Aerosmith.

Indeed:

Half my life
Is books, written pages
Live and learn from fools and
From sages
You know it’s true, oh
All these feelings come back to you….

musing3 “Sing with me, sing for the years, sing for the tears.”

We dream on, love on, live on;
but look both ways and mind the gaps.

Nano Rebel – The Big Picture

My Analogy

art-memoir-analogy3 Let’s make a pencil drawing.

As we create this drawing, our personal art, we move the pencil across the page. As it leaves lines and other marks on the page, let’s say those marks are in the past – our past. We are creating the art, but we drew the lines and made the marks, past tense.

We can see the pencil point. The tip is touching on the page. We may look directly at it, or not. That small point of contact with the paper represents our present time — now. It’s in that brief instant of time where we live. We may look at the past marks, or we may focus on the pencil on the page. We may move it in any direction, going fast or slow, applying firm of soft pressure. We may even lift the pencil from the page and move it to a different location.

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As we move the pencil, the point joins with other lines on the page. Our present reaches into our past. As our vision unfolds, we make plans for where the pencil will go next, how we’ll maneuver it, how we apply pressure to it, how we will lift it off, and return it to, the page. As our drawing takes form, the page fills with marks and lines.

The blank part of the page is the future. We think about and plan our next moves, or we allow our hand to be guided by external forces, moving us into our personal future.

We keep looking to see the entirety of the drawing. We consider the past lines in light of our future plans. We make decisions to move lines in the present to be tangent with, or to intersect lines of the past. Thus, we create a new future that mingles with, and eventually becomes, our past.

We erase. We change it. We keep looking at our whole life as art. As we move in closer and back away to change our perspective, we begin to see the big picture of our life.

art-memoir-analogy2 As we draw, we feel things: love, anger, spiritual things, and the passions of life. As we experience our feelings, our work of art changes. Those emotions travel to our hands to control the pencil that is drawing our life.

We learn as we draw. What worked? What didn’t? Where did we succeed and what were our failures?

As we fill the page with marks and lines, there are more lines and less white space. We are running out of places to make our marks. We don’t know how many more lines and marks that we can put on the page.

Our drawing, our art, our life. It’s on the page, or is it?

Mind the gap.

art-memoir-analogy4 With 10 days of Nano remaining, I’m rolling along with my memoir. Finding memories and searching for lost feelings. It has helped me to keep writing in a searchable chronological order, so that as I recall things I want to add; I can find the right place to write (draw?) those memories.

Now, with over 34,000 words, I can tell that I may have to run this stuff past some involved eyes before I consider asking anyone to read it for feedback. Along with trying to write over 1,500 words a day, I’m reading Writing is My Drink, by Theo Pauline Nestor, and Your Life as Story by Tristine Rainer.

Have you ever tried to write your life story as a fairy tale? I have. Try it sometime.

“One should either be a work of art, or wear a work of art.” ~ Oscar Wilde

To see your life story, look both ways.

NaNo Rebel – One Week Done

In the first five days of NaNoWriMo, I’ve written 11,000 words toward the goal of 50,000 before midnight of November 30^th. Since my personal goal was 2K words a day, I’m ahead. I have picked up on several things about my writing.

I am not isolated. My wife comes and talks to me routinely, and I go talk to her. I have vacuumed the house, gone to meetings, and done shopping. I answer phone calls (not doing surveys or talking to telemarketers, and I voted early), and I go for walks.
I have time available to write. Being retired, I could write all day and night. But I can take time for a football game, and maybe some NCIS or Blue Bloods. I read about what I am supposed to be doing: writing memoir. I talk to people, often about things having nothing to do with writing.
I think my weakest writing skill is the art, the creative parts, the telling of the story. I blame my experience with technical writing for part of that. But for this memoir, I continue to work on my skills to show and tell from my POV at the time. Can I be both protagonist and antagonist?
If I read a sentence that I wrote last week, I will change it. It will be better, but the challenge is to write, not to re-write and edit. This slows me down, but it looks like I can semi-comfortably write a maximum of about 3-thousand words a day. I did 2,800 twice last week.
I made an outline, a spreadsheet, and a memory list. The list has turned out to be the most valuable. I never look at the outline or spreadsheet. My only problem with the memory list is that I write in chronological order and the list random.

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Here are examples from my list:
1. Working to pull out coal stove and put in gas hot water heater and gas stove for cooking.
2. Looking up at Dad realizing I was looking at a drunk man who didn’t care. I had eerie feeling that he resented me. I was not seeing my father.
3. Helen Hxxxxn (Whitey) BB gun. Tomatoes.
4. Peggy Rxxb and the Rxxb family.
5. Carol Mxxar and Joe Mxxxxen
6. Dog named Rusty and my treatment of the dog
7. Age 5 birthday party
8. Danny
9. Raised by both bio parents…first in fam….Linda was second, but hers divorced (he left) right after Linda graduated high school
10. Mom’s relationship with my half-bro, Danny, and my view of it.

I will be writing this memoir for a long time to come. I’ll win the Nano challenge and complete this memoir, but not anywhere near at the same time.

I miss writing this blog, but I choose not to do both.

If you ever consider writing memoir, I suggest it. For me, it’s not about the book, it’s about me. I still have a lot to write and things to decide. Do I want to write about something or make it available for others to read? Those dark “things” about me? I work at keeping the words and stories on my intended spiritual track, but in my mind, everything relates – particularly during my formative years.

The following excerpts from my memoir are from two more dramatic events, both relate to a nun who taught me. Context is that I had just learned that the same nun who taught 7th grade will be teaching 8th next year, then we jump to what I was worried about.

….“Mom, Coughlin is 7 to 12th. Can I go to 8th grade there? I’ll go next year anyway.”

“Now, Billy-boy. Why wud ya? Jist graduate St. John’s. After I see ya graduate, God can take me. It’ll never happen again.”

“I’ll graduate Coughlin, Mom.”

8th grade was worse than 7th. Even Father Burns was afraid of Sister Mary Siena, and for good reason. She was the tyrant of the school.

Gerry Dxxxxe sat behind me. As I was turned around explaining something of extreme importance to Gerry I heard, “Mister Rxxxxs, what is the answer?”

“The answer to what, Sister?”

“Young man, you better know the answer to the question I just asked the class.”

After I suggested that she asked one of them, the anger-crazed dark shadow in black habit grabbed her instrument of torture and death. As she stormed down the aisle heading at me, in her hand was the yard long wooden pointer. It was round, about the circumference of my thumb. She yelled for me to standup and turn around.

As it turns out, blows to the flesh behind the knees with such a pointer are not soon forgotten….

Life is interesting,
look both ways and mind the gaps.

Who Am I?

who am i2

Why should anyone want to answer this question? I was asked, then immediately told no answer was expected. It’s not a rhetorical question.

When others ask my name, that’s easy enough. What do I do? Also simple. What are you? begins to get more personal. Who are you? Who am I? In terms of what? Our relationship? Am I your friend, enemy, son, father, or husband? I’m the son of, the father of, the grandfather of; but is that who I am?

I’ve always been willing to allow my pastimes to wrap with my identity. For example: I am a runner, artist, writer, dreamer, reader, etc. I’ve been less willing to do that with my profession. I know people who took their livelihood as an identity, only to feel lost when they could no longer perform at their vocation. I no longer run. When I was forced to stop, I was mildly depressed for two weeks. After that, I was fine.

Apparently, some folks think going public as an atheist raised my IQ, my awareness, and my general knowledge—all by some large measure. Other atheists and believers alike seem convinced that I now must provide answers and solutions, understand deep metaphysical mysteries, and know myself better than ever. It changed nothing about me—certainly not who I am.

Admitting atheist does not inflict anyone with knowing the source of the universe–certainly not me. Of this I am certain: if there is a god, I am not him, her, or it. On that, we must all agree. There is scientific evidence to show that my intelligence is now less than it was in the past. Admittedly, I know more trivia and I should have greater wisdom than when I was younger. My answer to life, the universe, and everything is: 42. (You get bonus points if you know why.)

I am two things. I’m the biological result of generations of genetic selection. The other thing I am is what I’ve become (maybe you’re becoming) as a result of the past 70 years of life, social and physical interactions, and learning. I have no idea why I’m male, bald, mildly pudgy (okay, the beer), or have blue or green eyes (depends who you ask). I’m also one of y’all. We’re exactly the same, yet completely different. And we both know it. But that’s not who I am.

As a writer of stories with human characters, I know more about my characters (everything) than I do about any other person. I understand them better than I get myself. I’m their god. I give them life, and sometimes death. I give them pain and pleasure. I know what they’ll do tomorrow. I know what happens when they enter those secret places where they don’t tell others what happened–I know their secret thoughts.

Last night, before going to sleep, my wife asked, “Are you going to walk in the morning?” I said, “I don’t know.” I walk virtually every morning. Today, I did not. My characters are much more dependable.

I am who I always was, and who I will be. I’m the sum of the past. I am part of you, as you are of me. I know who I am at this moment. Right here and now, I am who and what I am. If any deeper, more esoteric, philosophical, theological, sociological, or scientific answer is required, then my answer shall remain forever insufficient.

I don’t know everything about me, but I know enough. We’re gunna have to live with that.

To you, you are who you say you are, what you believe, and what you do. To me, you are who I say you are—it’s my opinion–subject to error and change.

But, is “who am I?” the critical question? I think the most important question is: who are we? How do we define us? We may add layer upon layer of humanity, and layer upon layer of nature, then layer upon layer of the universe. We are still in this together and we need each other.

As me dear departed Irish fadder often ass’d meh, “Whoda hell d’yeh tink ye’re?” Since that usually precipitated me being in a jam…“Exit stage left!”

Who am I? Look both ways.

This Atheist and Jesus….

I was asked a good question. This is my response, which is based on my religious views and my personal version of atheism. I cannot speak for any other atheists. The person asking was sincerely curious.

I don’t like the word atheist, but I know none better. So, I’ll roll with it. We have varying concepts and definitions of what an atheist is and what one believes or should think. That’s why I’m writing this explanation. Those differences aren’t going to change soon.

I was asked because I had linked to a song in last week’s blog on questions. The song was Spirit in The Sky by Norman Greenbaum. (Linked again here.) It’s tied to my answer to “What happens after we die?” (Answer: I don’t know.)

atheist and jesus

I enjoy spiritual music and I’ve liked this song since first hearing it in the 70s. It’s uplifting and has a lot of hand-clapping and singing about what happens following human death. All of that is good, based on the song. However, there’s a condition.

The lyrics say I “gotta have” a friend to intervene for me if I plan to make a deal with the spirit in the sky.

Prepare yourself you know it’s a must
Gotta have a friend in Jesus
So you know that when you die
He’s gonna recommend you
To the spirit in the sky

Never been a sinner I never sinned
I got a friend in Jesus
So you know that when I die
He’s gonna set me up with
The spirit in the sky

My friend asked, “How does being a friend of Jesus resonate with an atheist?”

Resonate means “to attach particular meaning or importance for someone, or to affect or appeal to someone in a personal or emotional way.”

I can’t say that Jesus or an afterlife resonate with me. My personal belief is that when we’re dead, we are simply dead and gone. There are no fires, no trials, no judgements, no hooking up again with the old bod – it’s simply over. If there is more to it, as with my answer to the question, I’ll have to wait to find out. I’m in no rush to learn the answer.

To be clear: I am an atheist, Norm Greenbaum is a Jew, Jesus (actually Yeshua) was also a Jew.

Now, consider these three points of view.

Atheists do not believe in any gods. Any belief in a historical Jesus is personal. And for an atheist, that is only a belief that the man existed. Any opinion or judgement of that man is also a personal opinion.
Most observant Jews (that I know of) do not believe that Jesus was the messiah, or is God. Yet, one of them wrote and sang this song – Norm Greenbaum.
Christians seem to believe Jesus was the messiah prophesied in scripture for the Jews. They also seem to believe that Jesus was, or is, the Son of God. Thus, as the second person of a holy trinity, also God. But, this is about me, not Christianity.

Notice anything? I never said that Jesus never existed. I never said he was not a nice guy, or a great religious prophet and leader, or a Jewish Rabbi. Simply not believing that someone is a god isn’t as negative as some folks may think.

Jesus also allegedly said and did a lot of cool things that I, and many other atheists, do agree with. Whether Jesus existed or not, I’m not, and never have been, anti-Jesus just because I don’t think he or anyone else is a god.

Besides, if Richard Dawkins supports Jesus’s philosophy (contrary to what many Christians may think), I certainly feel comfortable plugging songs that may include the name of Jesus.

I’ll not dismiss music simply because it uses his name, is religious in nature, or invokes any other god. I may for other reasons.

Here is another great Jesus song I like: ‘Jesus is Just Alright,’ covered most famously by the Doobie Brothers in the early 70s. It’s not much for lyrics, but was an upbeat hit.

I neither hate nor love Jesus. I accept that he probably lived about 2,000 years ago and he may have been one of the world’s first hippies (something I like). If so, I also think he is long dead.

May we unite in love and friendship. Let’s end dividing into tribes and against each other. Would Jesus want us to join our humanity together with peace and love in our hearts? May we acknowledge what we need from, and share with, each other. And, let each of us also be true to ourselves.

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The Art of Aging

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Forty years ago tomorrow, I was the father of two boys: one age five, the other was two (two years later we added a daughter to the pride). Tomorrow would be my 30th birthday.

I was the navigator on a B-52 bomber crew. I recall that as I was taking a shower about fifty yards (roughly 45 meters) from a nuclear armed airplane cocked and ready to go blow the crap of somebody, I was quietly lamenting my age.

B-52D Navigator's Position — B-52D Navigator’s Position

I would no longer be in my twenties. I thought that I was not young and never would be again. I was knocking on the door of middle age, or so I thought. I was feeling down because I was turning the dreaded big three-zero. “Don’t trust anyone over thirty” was the phrase. I still don’t really know what that means. I just knew it was bad.

Our society convinced me that I was getting old and that I should be sad about it. In four days, that five-year-old I mentioned turns 45. He and his 42-years young brother really are middle aged, and their baby sister is knocking on that door. I was not old, but I was depressed thinking that I was. Thanks to our shallow, f***ed-up, foolish American culture that values all the wrong stuff in people, my thinking was foolish (and not only about age).

birthday 70 1 Is it all that important to be a thin, white, dark-haired, strong, male member of this country? We seem to think so. I hope that continues to change.

We have to pass laws to keep people from discriminating against older people, and the age in the law is 40. WTF? Forty is not old. Again, forty is not old! At most, it’s lower-middle aged.

And if you plan to call this foul-mouthed, hard-drinking, Fightin’ Texas Aggie, Irish-Welshman elderly; you best be certain that you can kick his ass. Because this one is standing straight-up and walking your way (in silence) to demonstrate that old is not elderly!

But, I will indeed become a septuagenarian at midnight tonight. In the game of life, I will be at ‘Level 8.’ I’ve literally been there, done that, and have the scars to prove it (which I wear proudly). I am on a first-name basis with my cardiologists, and if my peripheral vascular surgeon would do a better job, I would be running three miles a day, instead of walking. I ride a Honda Forza motor scooter because my 800-pound, 2007 Yamaha Royal Star Tour Deluxe touring motorcycle got too heavy to pick up (last year). But I still ride on two wheels. I’ve retired from the jobs that pay, but I work every day. I’m a writer and do volunteer work. My only boss is the one I’ve been married to for 50 years.

I like people and I want them to like me. But I also don’t give a flying f**k what anyone else thinks of me or my opinions, politics, religion (or lack thereof), foul language, or beer breath. I do not, and never will, wear socks with sandals. I remain a teenager of the 60s.

birthsday 70 6 I am retired. All the shit/crap that I put up with for all those years of school (nuns-groan), yes, sir and no, sir; kissing up to very few idiot bosses (most were great), scrimping and saving and working – it was all worth it. As my wife would say, “Rave on, dog shit!” And so I do. Every day is a weekend and I can do what I want (with her permission—I’m old, not stupid) whenever.

I want to be happy and I am. My last meal will truly be a good pizza (my wife makes the best) and a fine stout brew. When the time comes, I want to walk into Dr. G’s office and say, “Time to shut it down, Doc. It’s been a great ride and I’ve loved it all. Let’s talk about the final git-er-done.” But that day is some ways off. Getting old is not dangerous, driving on our roads is.

Get ready big eight-zero ‘cuz here I come. ~ Me

birthday 70 3

I toast the good health of my birth year (1946) peers: Cher, Barry Gibb, George and Laura Bush, Bill Clinton, Donald Trump, Linda Ronstadt, Sally Field, Ed O’Neill, Reggie Jackson, Daryl Hall, Jimmy Buffett, Dolly Parton, Tommy Lee Jones, Al Green, Loni Anderson, Cheech Marin, and others. We’re still kickin’ the can down the road.

May you have love that never ends, much money, and many friends.

Health be yours, whatever you do and may the universe bless you and yours. Rock on, my friends.

I’ll publish my promised blog on creativity this next Friday. I am also tinkering with one on recovering from middle age (men only, I am unqualified for the experiences of the softer, better looking, and smarter sex) because I have been there and done that too.

What do you want?

The first of three questions I think everyone should be able to answer quickly is ‘What do you want?’ I’ve always felt that few of us think about that. We may have short term goals or we may want some things to come our way. But the ultimate answer, while not illusive, is something we seldom ponder. I say this with the opinion that for virtually all of us, the answer is simple, easy, and nearly the same for everyone.

What Do You Want ? As I listened to an interview with Christopher Hitchens, I was surprised by something he said. I’ll get back to that in a minute. Frist, I want to talk about the genesis of the question and my answer.

Beginning about 25 years ago, my life began to take some very significant turns. Much significantly changed for me. My life was on track, then it was not. This life transformation continued for years. Much of it was unpleasant, disruptive, sad, and shocking. The unhappier and more miserable I became, the more I thought about what had happened and what all was going wrong. I’ll save the details for a memoir. Suffice to say, shit happened and stuff changed.

This led to a rather spiritually reflective time for me. I read a lot of spiritual books, studied religions (some more lightly than others), and pondered what I thought were important life questions.

I don’t recall when or how I came across the brochure. It was titled Oh Happy Fault! A Confession of Hidden Sin by Vinny Flynn. In the brochure, Flynn confesses that his sin was being unhappy. Silly as it seems, that resonated with me because I realized that I was unhappy, or depressed, or both. Either way, what had been going on inside me (where no one could see) was the same. This led directly to my reading three books and indirectly, discovering one other.

Fully Human, Fully Alive, by Fr. John Powell, SJ
Siddhartha, by Herman Hesse
Man’s Search for Meaning, by Victor Frankl

About the same time, I also read, The Seven Story Mountain, by Thomas Merton.

Question One7

The result of all of this was that I made two decisions. Actually, I made many decisions and continue making them, but early-on I decided that I wanted, or perhaps needed, to be happy. I knew that I was unhappy. So I decided to be happy. More importantly, I decided that my happiness was up to me – that I could do something about it. It took a long time for my happiness to improve, but it did.

Jump ahead about six years. I found myself conducting classes for other very troubled people. They were not exactly unhappy (some were). They didn’t seem to have any focus about anything. In my opinion, they had no world view. One of the questions I would regularly as them was “What do you want?” Their answers sounded like a list of shallow, adolescent ideas about hot cars, money, and hot men or women. The blank stares and silence I got when I asked ‘why’ disguised their answers of ‘who the hell cares?’ With that experience, I have continued asking people the same question for years. “What do you want?”

Question One1

I’ve always thought everyone’s answer should be ‘happiness.’ During the Christopher Hitchens interview, he said that he did not think that he wanted ‘happiness,’ but wanted ‘satisfaction.’ I liked Hitch, but on this answer we would disagree. Maybe he felt that happiness was too much to ask for. Anyway, at least one dictionary indicates the words have synonymous meanings. There is a difference. Even though satisfaction implies having our needs met, happiness involves our state of mind regardless of needs.

Question One5

I’m skeptical of some folks wanting to be happy. Some people seem happy by not being happy, or not wanting anyone to know they’re happy. It’s like if anyone knows, they will set out to ruin my happiness; therefore, I mustn’t appear happy. Maybe they really are just waiting for something bad to happen, or maybe they seriously do not want to be happy. Maybe they think there is a happy tax.

Question One6 A satisfaction tax would make a lot more sense. It seems like things may satisfy us, but we decide to be, or not to be happy. How would we measure and estimate a tax on feeling good?

Anyway, I hope you are happy now. I also hope that Hitch is satisfied and Mick Jagger (after all these years) can get some damn satisfaction. I mean, how long does a guy have to wait for that?

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Our Literary Journey

Driveling twaddle by an old flapdoodle.

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