Granddaughters

During the past four years we have watched our grandson grow from a tiny baby into an inquisitive, intelligent and confident little boy. Almost a year ago his sister came into the world and again we watched in amazement as a totally different character formed. Then, just three months ago, we were blessed with another granddaughter. Daphne lives closer so we can marvel at the almost daily development of her little personality. Maybe the presence of these young ladies in my life has made me more sensitive to reports of violence against women. Whatever the reason, these reports are a common theme recently.

The first report to catch my ear was on the radio as I was driving to work. The commentator explained that current economic turmoil is increasing the stresses inside many US families. A sign of this stress is an increase in the number of reports of domestic violence and assaults against women. The second nudge was from a totally different source – a photography magazine. There is a reference to Joyce Tenneson in the current issue of Shutterbug. It is illustrated by some posters from her portraits each with the slogan, “When violence against women stops, I will . . . . . .” The subjects’ hopes are usually something most men take for granted, like “I will be able to walk alone”. The latest nudge was a television program about the Taliban restrictions on women in Pakistan. Two little girls showed their school – or rather what remained of their school after those “students of religious knowledge” destroyed it. The father of one girl observed that the goal of this destruction was to chain his daughter’s mind. That statement seared my consciousness because just a few days earlier I took this photograph of one of my favorite bookworms. She may be sitting on the ground but there are no chains on her mind or imagination. They are off with the story in that book. She is flying totally free from the grey world around.

Sadly, even in the USA not everything is wonderful. This bookworm and my granddaughters will face dangers close to home as they get older. It is estimated that domestic partners assault between 2 million and 4 million US women every year. About 25 percent of the female population will be abused in their lifetime. Violence against women is a serious crime in most countries. Yet even in the US there is a perverted belief in some circles that it can be acceptable and even understandable male behavior. I don’t have an answer to that stupidity except more education – especially fathers educating their sons that violence towards women is always a sign of an impotent coward. Maybe we also need to add a dose of public ridicule to the criminal punishment of abusers. The fear of ridicule by one’s friends and neighbors is a great deterrent and a powerful force for changing male conduct. Ridicule might even highlight the moral bankruptcy of the Taliban and lead to faster changes in their behavior than current political policies (which only seem to bring them more recruits).

I also admit I just do not understand how any person who beats women can claim to be a “man”. It is certainly not Christian conduct. Regardless of religion, at a fundamental level, it is simply uncivilized. Maybe that is the answer. Those who abuse women are just not civilized and certainly not honorable. I have no difficulty accepting that description for the Taliban. Honesty also forces me to accept the same description for many of my countrymen. That realization means I, and anyone else reading this, must always be vigilant to make sure all our daughters and granddaughters can grow in freedom so that violence is never a part of their lives.

Changing attitudes – or just changing words??

I always enjoy going to church at Christmastime. The familiar Bible stories bring a lump to my throat and I love to sing the carols that I learnt when I was a child. Nobody has ever accused me of being a tuneful singer but that doesn’t stop me from belting out those familiar words – and therein lies a problem. Those familiar words just aren’t familiar any longer. The language in some of my favorite hymns has been rendered “gender neutral”. Last Sunday, we sang that old favorite “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”. I haven’t needed to refer to a hymnal for those words since I was about eight years old. So, there I was, singing “pleased as man with man to dwell” while the choir and most of the congregation sang “pleased with us in flesh to dwell”. At least we both agreed that Jesus was “our Emmanuel”.

Another of my favorite hymns is the old Irish classic, “Be Thou my Vision”. Again, I learnt the words of that hymn many, many years ago and in today’s material world the original phrase “Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise” always make me stop and think about the motivation for my actions. Nowadays, the hymnal reads, “Riches I heed not, nor vain empty praise”. Removing the focus from the source of that empty praise has, in my humble opinion, dramatically weakened that stanza – and the struggle for the right motive for service.

As I formulated my usual silent tirade about people who see problems where none exist and change what is not broken I started to wonder if maybe I was the one who was insensitive. Are there women who see mainstream Christianity as inherently sexist, dominated by the masculine gender and discriminating against anything feminine? Is my attitude to these changes an example that “I don’t get it?” If so, maybe I am equally insensitive to other forms of discrimination. I am a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant. I am over 6 foot 3 inches tall. I was blessed with reasonable intelligence, was brought up by loving parents, went to collage, got married and have been reasonably successful in careers. All these attributes and experiences must tinge my attitudes. Can I really understand the situation of people of color, short people, Roman Catholics in Ireland, those without education or a job? There are lots of “shoes” I have not walked in and I suppose lots of attitudes and opinions that I don't (or can’t?) really understand.

So, as 2009 starts, my first resolution is to try not to react when change comes - especially to those things I consider should be carved in stone. I admit that I will have a hard time un-learning some of that "sexist" language in those old hymns. But, if any of my readers suspect that maybe my opinions or attitude in other areas might also be due for a change, just drop a gentle hint into the conversation – maybe a code word - like “Luddite”

thoughts on Veterans' Day

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the armistice that ended the horrors of World War One. At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month the guns fell silent. Since then, November 11 has been set aside as a day to remember all those who gave their lives in the armed forces for our freedoms. In UK, people mark that day by wearing a red paper poppy. (The poppy thrived in the soil between the trenches of Flanders that was torn up by bombs and shells. It was adopted as the symbol of the horrors of War.) That tradition is still strong. On the way to the airport in Tokyo today I saw several westerners wearing poppies in the lapels of their business suits. Here in the US we will celebrate “Veterans Day” to remember those who served for our freedoms. There will be ceremonies and maybe even parades, but often the focus will be on “past” wars. It is easy to remember the “acceptable” conflicts of WW II, Korea, and nowadays, even Viet Nam. Those wars are safe. The conflict has ended, the pain is past and the horrors are safely confined to movies and television documentaries.That is not true of the present conflict in Iraq.

On a recent visit to Calgary I noticed that the flags at the airport were flying at half-staff. It was not a special holiday and the newspapers had no reports that an eminent citizen had died. The reason was that a member of the Canadian armed services who had been killed overseas was returning home. I confess that I thought this was a “nice” gesture and continued on my way. Tonight I watched a TV report about how the ordinary Canadian people pay their respects to Canada’s fallen. The article made me compare the way Canada acknowledges its fallen with the air of secrecy that surrounds the sacrifice by the US forces. Here, we are regularly informed about numbers. The trouble is (or maybe the point is) we are immune to numbers. An article that four soldiers were killed by an IED evokes no response. The sight of those four bodies returning home, four flag draped coffins, grieving families, distraught children and the effect this has on four different communities might make us appreciate the full cost of this futile war.

We rightly ridicule government attempts to stifle news and feed propaganda to its citizens. When that is our government’s policy and it also negates the full sacrifice of our fallen, it is unconscionable.

I memorized this verse at school in the 50s when the horrors of WWII were still visible in Europe. My teacher was an "old" lady. She probably shared in the sacrifices of WW I. The thoughts it expresses are still applicable to the heroes of today.

They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old,
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

“For the Fallen”
Laurence Binyon (1869-1943),

Brothers in Arms . . . usually a waste

I am writing this entry on the plane as it flies over Alaska on the way to Japan. I suspect that if I look out of the windows on the right side I might see Sarah Palin’s house and if I check the other side I might see Russia. Right now, I’m quietly marveling at the technology all around me. My laptop is plugged into a 120V outlet in the seat, an LCD screen in arm-rest offers a choice of over 300 movies or I can select my favorite tracks from over 200 CDs. The music selection is wonderful: everything from Elvis to Enya or Bach to Billy Holiday. Outside, it is -60 degrees Fahrenheit but I am cocooned in an aluminum tube hurtling towards the international dateline at 550 miles per hour listening to Simon and Garfunkel sing about the “Sounds of Silence”.

The music system allows passengers to select tunes from any number of CDs and play a personal “Jukebox” to wile away the hours. Among the gems I’ve included on my jukebox is “Brothers in Arms” by Dire Straits. I can’t listen to this tune without being grateful for the circumstances in my life. My parents were both in their late teens and early twenties when they served in the armed forces during WW II. I was born at the end of that war and came of age when the law requiring two years service in the forces had been abolished. The UK was not involved in Viet Nam so unlike some of my colleagues here, I was spared that conflict. Now, I am too old. My son registered for Selective Service when he became 18 but as the years pass and he advances I have strong hopes that he will be spared any involvement in armed conflict. I fervently pray that my grandson and granddaughter will also be spared. That’s her picture at the end of this paragraph. She is still too young to be embarrassed by a doting granddad or be teased by friends. I’m not too sure that applies to her “big” brother so we’ll omit his photo.)

I expect many people will think my feelings are selfish. Maybe they are, but they are also a combination of profound sorrow and deep anger. Sorrow for the wanton loss of youth and all the wasted potential those lives contained; anger at the people my age who keep failing to find alternative means of solving problems and so squander those youthful lives. My feelings are not restricted to the US. I mourn the loss of youth on all sides and my curses are democratically directed at all leaders. But the crux is we claim to have higher ideals than some other folks.

So, I also get angry each Sunday when, with so many other American citizens, I go to church to worship the “Prince of Peace”. We recall the way Jesus forgave His killers. We read and memorize verses proclaiming His teaching that love conquers all and somehow, we manage to rationalize that these words are not really intended to work in the real world between Monday and Saturday. Should I add naivety to my selfishness? I don’t have an answer to that but I am sure that we cannot just pick the bits of Jesus’ teachings we like and ask forgiveness when we deliberately ignore the “inconvenient” parts. The verse is “do onto others as you would have them do onto you”. That way will bring security for everyone’s grandkids. Unfortunately, too many seem to read it as “do onto others before they do onto you”. That is a guaranteed path to continued waste and sorrow.

Religious education

Back in the Dark Ages when I attended the Boys’ Model School in Northern Ireland, the law required pupils be taught two specific subjects. They were subjects that are not normally required for a good education in USA today - Religious Education and Physical Education. I thought that the “Troubles” in Northern Ireland and the development of modern curricula would cause a retreat from teaching religion to all pupils. However, looking at the current website for the Boys’ Model, I was very surprised to read, “The legal requirement is for every pupil to study RE, unless parents request his withdrawal.”

The school webpage covering Religious Education makes some interesting claims for the subject. These include “a substantial contribution to the spiritual, moral, cultural, intellectual and physical development of all pupils.” Certainly much of Western culture and the basis for our ethical systems tie directly back to our religious heritage. Still, I wonder about that claim for “physical development.” Maybe the author was thinking about the admonitions against strong drink and immorality.

The webpage notes the goals of the RE course. They include the usual communication, thinking skills and personal capabilities. They also include:

• a knowledge of where religious and moral beliefs come from;
• an awareness of Christian teaching;
• a sensitivity towards the beliefs of others;
• an ability to think and judge about morality;
• an awareness of self.
  

Those seem to be pretty basic skills for anyone growing up in today’s world. The course includes an “Introduction to Judaism & Islam” so the content looks as relevant as the latest news. Given our concerns about moral, ethical and business standards, I wonder if this is another small example of “How the Irish Saved Civilization”.

Harvey - Guest Blogger

We Bull Terriers are a naturally retiring breed but as I lay on the sofa with one ear cocked towards the television I became so incensed that I asked Fergus if I could post this note. The pundits on CNN suggested that some humans might choose whom to vote for based only on the color of a man’s skin. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t understand it. I thought I heard that something called the Stock Market had lost 40 percent of its value; lots of people have no jobs; others can’t afford to go the vet (sorry, doctor); and many are loosing their homes. How does chosing a President based on skin color help solve these problems? My friend Regan is different from me. She is a Grey Hound. She has colored patches and very long legs. But we get on together – even if she does always want to be the boss.

I was told that humans are more intelligent than us dogs. Now I am not so sure. Please, humans, decide the future of this country on something more important than the color of a man’s skin.

Ike - Finale

It’s been three weeks since Ike left town. Our part of Missouri City is almost normal – except that all the Bradford Pear trees have decided it is spring again and have come into flower. How one night of high winds can induce the same response as four months of winter is perplexing but the blossom adds a touch of wonder to what was an unpleasant experience.

The beach home in Galveston fared very well. Dirt marks on the garage wall indicate that the storm surge on the west of the island was about five feet above ground level – probably about eight feet above normal high tide. The dwelling area upstairs is comfortably above that level so we were spared any water damage except in the garage. Power and water were restored to our area of Sea Isle last week and we were able to power-wash the mud out of the garage. The next test will be to return the batteries to the golf cart and see if it can be restored to operation. All this is very trivial and mundane and our feelings of relief and “survivor guilt” grow each time we travel down to Galveston. During the past couple of weeks people have begun the clean-up process. Along the side of the roads in Galveston (and surprisingly along some parts of Highway 6) heaps of debris are growing. These piles of ruined fridges, sodden furniture, saturated walls and broken structures represent people’s lives, their homes and hopes for the future. I can’t imagine the heartache of seeing a lifetime of memories destroyed or the stress of dealing with insurance claims and bureaucracies - all while trying earn a living and maintain a semblance of normality. Somehow, sending $700 billion to Wall Street to try to fix a crisis caused by greed doesn’t seem to be an appropriate use of our resources. I appreciate my congressman’s fortitude in voting against the bill both times it came to the House. I only wish my senatorial representative displayed the same backbone.

And now for something different . . . . a gratuitous commercial plug. For years I have been a fan of Venezuelan rum. It has a distinctive flavor that is very different from other Caribbean products. IMHO it is infinitely superior to the mass produced liquors (especially the ones with the bat trademark) sold in most US bars and restaurants. But recently I discovered something even better. It is “hand made Texas Rum” produced near here in San Leon on Galveston Bay. Railean distillery has survived Hurricane Ike and their nectar is readily available in your local Specs store. A recent article in the Houston Chronicle describes some of the eccentric residents of San Leon and their efforts to recover after Ike. I encourage y’all to help San Leon in a practical way. Get rid of all those imported rums. Help local industry and our national economy which needs all the help it can get. Be patriotic - Drink Texas rum!