A couple of years ago, I decided to give up cigars. The hardest part about quitting is that when there is idle time, you tend to revert back to old habits. To combat this, I started walking. I would get home from work, put on some comfortable clothes, and head out the door. Sometimes I would walk for half an hour. Sometimes the urge was so strong, I would walk for hours. I plowed forward.
After a month or so of this, I got real sick of my neighborhood, so I decided to mix things up. I started hiking in the mountain preserves around Phoenix. Hiking wasn’t a conscious decision so much as it was a desire to get a change of scenery. My half hour walks turned into two to four hour hikes. I was hooked.
Over time, I discovered that one of my best friends was also a regular hiker, so we started doing regular hikes together. Nicole has been hiking pretty much forever, so she knew all the cool places around town. And she is an athlete. At times, I found myself almost jogging to keep up with her. Not only did I give up cigars, but I was getting into shape without even realizing it.
Then I did something really stupid about a year ago. I resumed my cigar habit. Stupid, stupid, stupid. And I am sure that if I had been walking by myself, I would have used cigars as an excuse to stop hiking. But I guess part of the reason we have friends is that they inspire us, so I plowed forward and kept hiking anyway.
Last week, while on a Thursday morning hike, Nicole sprained her ankle. It looked like someone inserted a golf ball in place of where her ankle was supposed to be.
On Saturday, it was Nicole’s turn to lead our company’s hiking group on it’s monthly hike. Now most people would have backed out. A sprained ankle is not something most people can just walk off. Then again, that wouldn’t be like Nicole. She not only led the hike, but was a bit upset about having problems keeping up with Tyler (I think I overheard Tyler’s wife Debbie say that he runs two and half miles in twelve minutes--not bad). Nicole stayed at the front the whole way. I guess some people make a regular habit of finding excuses and others just deal with adversity and plow forward. The latter tend to inspire.
I will plow forward, too. It may take me awhile, but I think I will get this cigar thing figured out.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Life-Changing Events
I worked as a 911 dispatcher in a past life and made a lasting friendship with a guy who is not at all like me.
Jim Hewitt is a horse rancher and a deputy sheriff. He lives in the most secluded corner of Minnesota’s Kittson County where he and his wife Kelly have, and are still in the process of raising 13 kids.
All of his kids are home-schooled and as a former school board member that prompted a number of discussion between Jim and I on the virtues and pitfalls of both public education and home school.
But all of that is a another story.
What prompted me to write about Jim is best called my admiration and respect for him. Also the changes that he will face when he returns. He has very unique (at least unique in my world) beliefs and stands strongly on those beliefs. Yet he does not try to force feed them to anyone around him.
But what really peaked my admiration is that Jim, who is now in his late forties, volunteered to serve a year in Iraq, and is now considering extending that tour for another six months. Granted, he being well paid, but I really don’t believe that to be his motivation.
Jim was never in the military, yet has a very strong patriotic sense about him. He is also a former U.S. Border Patrol Agent, and it the former job that offered him the opportunity to take this job.
He works as a Border patrol advisor to his Iraqi counterparts.
I spent nearly 27 months total in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. Maybe that is where my connection to this comes from.
I remember telling Jim the week before he left for Iraq that when he returns home, nothing will ever again be the same as it was. I really don’t think he understood what I was was telling him at the time, but I would venture he will have a very good understanding when he returns.
I was never a real beg fan of the Vietnam War, just as Jim does not like the idea of a war in Iraq. But for some there are moments where personal preferences are set aside in favor of a sense of some larger.
For me that something larger was Vietnam, for Jim it is Iraq. Others feel the same way about their opposition to serving. That’s fine with me, I have no real bones to pick as long as those feelings are legitimate.
But back to the subject - What I am trying, in my inept way, to get across is, there are events that we choose in our lives that have such a profound effect on us, that they alter our very being, There are similar life-altering events where choices are not given to us.
The two most life-altering experiences of my life came from each of those categories.
The first was Vietnam. It was the historical event of my time and I chose to stay as involved with it for as long as was possible.
The second of those was not by choice but was dealt to me without my consent. About a year ago I nearly lost my wife Deb to a fluke illness. Sitting by her hospital bed one morning I watched her sink back into the bed and saw the life drain from her eyes. (It is a scene I had become familiar with during the war.) Luckily a doctor was just a few feet away and they got her into surgery, saving her life.
The first of these two events shaped my early years, caused a lot of problems, taught me to deal with problems, taught me the value of life, defined my politics and my general outlook on life.
The second changed all of my priorities. Many stressful issues suddenly got moved way down the list when compared to family.
Jim may not know it at the moment, but his life is taking a drastic turn. What he does today will affect him and define him for the remainder of his years. It will be a few years before he realizes this.
A little off the subject - Jim’s daughter, Ashlee, is currently a contender on the NBC program, Nashville Star on Monday nights. She’s really doing a bang-up job.
Jim Hewitt is a horse rancher and a deputy sheriff. He lives in the most secluded corner of Minnesota’s Kittson County where he and his wife Kelly have, and are still in the process of raising 13 kids.
All of his kids are home-schooled and as a former school board member that prompted a number of discussion between Jim and I on the virtues and pitfalls of both public education and home school.
But all of that is a another story.
What prompted me to write about Jim is best called my admiration and respect for him. Also the changes that he will face when he returns. He has very unique (at least unique in my world) beliefs and stands strongly on those beliefs. Yet he does not try to force feed them to anyone around him.
But what really peaked my admiration is that Jim, who is now in his late forties, volunteered to serve a year in Iraq, and is now considering extending that tour for another six months. Granted, he being well paid, but I really don’t believe that to be his motivation.
Jim was never in the military, yet has a very strong patriotic sense about him. He is also a former U.S. Border Patrol Agent, and it the former job that offered him the opportunity to take this job.
He works as a Border patrol advisor to his Iraqi counterparts.
I spent nearly 27 months total in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War. Maybe that is where my connection to this comes from.
I remember telling Jim the week before he left for Iraq that when he returns home, nothing will ever again be the same as it was. I really don’t think he understood what I was was telling him at the time, but I would venture he will have a very good understanding when he returns.
I was never a real beg fan of the Vietnam War, just as Jim does not like the idea of a war in Iraq. But for some there are moments where personal preferences are set aside in favor of a sense of some larger.
For me that something larger was Vietnam, for Jim it is Iraq. Others feel the same way about their opposition to serving. That’s fine with me, I have no real bones to pick as long as those feelings are legitimate.
But back to the subject - What I am trying, in my inept way, to get across is, there are events that we choose in our lives that have such a profound effect on us, that they alter our very being, There are similar life-altering events where choices are not given to us.
The two most life-altering experiences of my life came from each of those categories.
The first was Vietnam. It was the historical event of my time and I chose to stay as involved with it for as long as was possible.
The second of those was not by choice but was dealt to me without my consent. About a year ago I nearly lost my wife Deb to a fluke illness. Sitting by her hospital bed one morning I watched her sink back into the bed and saw the life drain from her eyes. (It is a scene I had become familiar with during the war.) Luckily a doctor was just a few feet away and they got her into surgery, saving her life.
The first of these two events shaped my early years, caused a lot of problems, taught me to deal with problems, taught me the value of life, defined my politics and my general outlook on life.
The second changed all of my priorities. Many stressful issues suddenly got moved way down the list when compared to family.
Jim may not know it at the moment, but his life is taking a drastic turn. What he does today will affect him and define him for the remainder of his years. It will be a few years before he realizes this.
A little off the subject - Jim’s daughter, Ashlee, is currently a contender on the NBC program, Nashville Star on Monday nights. She’s really doing a bang-up job.
Micro-Blogging
Something has been tweeting in my ear. It's called Twitter. I heard about it on the radio earlier this week. I talked about it at work with some folks this week and now I just linked in to a video about it on YouTube. Each post is only 140 characters and once your friends are in, you can find out what everyone is doing. This would be a great way for all of us to keep in touch and a way to find out what kind of beer you're drinking at the moment or what book you're reading.
Anyone want to give it a try? You sign up for Twitter and I'll get a Facebook page!
Anyone want to give it a try? You sign up for Twitter and I'll get a Facebook page!
Monday, June 16, 2008
Chuck Klosterman Can't Sing
Everyone knows that if you love music but can't sing, you become a rock critic. I would guess that is probably true of Chuck Klosterman as well. But what makes Klosterman more interesting than most is the time he devotes to the culture surrounding music. (He also likes to write about himself, which is okay, I guess, because we are all a bit narcissistic when it comes to music. After all, we like music because we relate to it, see something of ourselves in it, not because it sounds good.)
Klosterman was raised in Wyndmere, North Dakota, and his first book Fargo Rock City describes what it is like loving heavy metal while growing up in rural North Dakota. He is a bit younger than me, though, so I don't quite relate to his love of hair bands like Ratt, Warrant, Poison, and Motley Crue. (He also spent his college days in a co-ed dorm at The University of North Dakota, which was probably the same one I inhabited a half decade earlier.)
Another of his books was also very insightful. Killing Yourself to Live explains how rock stars get more famous after they die. It is based on a cross-country road trip Klosterman took to investigate his story. And because he spends a good portion of his time lamenting about which of his girlfriends he is going to end up with, it is even more narcissistic than the previously mentioned book. Good read, none-the-less.
I am currently reading Klosterman IV, which is a collection of articles he has written for various pubs over the years. Although most of them are celebrity interviews (Britney Spears, Val Kilmer, Bono, etc.), it is holding my interest. I was getting tired last night, though, so I put it down, not wanting to miss anything in the fog of doziness.
In fact, I am resting up for the next chapter, something he wrote early in his career about the Fargo-Moorhead music scene. (He actually mentions a punk bar called Ralph's that my friend Brad used to take me to whenever I trekked down from Grand Forks.) The footnotes, basically his own humbling critic of the article, is absolutely hilarious, and in and of itself, worth reading the book.
But my favorite things about Klosterman is that he is no rock snob. I hate people who knock other people for their lack of musical taste. Taste is a word made up by elitists who use it to put others down, their only way to claim any self worth. Klosterman is more like the friend you had in junior high that was always bringing over whatever new album he had scammed his parents into buying for him. You would both marvel at how awesome it was.
Klosterman was raised in Wyndmere, North Dakota, and his first book Fargo Rock City describes what it is like loving heavy metal while growing up in rural North Dakota. He is a bit younger than me, though, so I don't quite relate to his love of hair bands like Ratt, Warrant, Poison, and Motley Crue. (He also spent his college days in a co-ed dorm at The University of North Dakota, which was probably the same one I inhabited a half decade earlier.)
Another of his books was also very insightful. Killing Yourself to Live explains how rock stars get more famous after they die. It is based on a cross-country road trip Klosterman took to investigate his story. And because he spends a good portion of his time lamenting about which of his girlfriends he is going to end up with, it is even more narcissistic than the previously mentioned book. Good read, none-the-less.
I am currently reading Klosterman IV, which is a collection of articles he has written for various pubs over the years. Although most of them are celebrity interviews (Britney Spears, Val Kilmer, Bono, etc.), it is holding my interest. I was getting tired last night, though, so I put it down, not wanting to miss anything in the fog of doziness.
In fact, I am resting up for the next chapter, something he wrote early in his career about the Fargo-Moorhead music scene. (He actually mentions a punk bar called Ralph's that my friend Brad used to take me to whenever I trekked down from Grand Forks.) The footnotes, basically his own humbling critic of the article, is absolutely hilarious, and in and of itself, worth reading the book.
But my favorite things about Klosterman is that he is no rock snob. I hate people who knock other people for their lack of musical taste. Taste is a word made up by elitists who use it to put others down, their only way to claim any self worth. Klosterman is more like the friend you had in junior high that was always bringing over whatever new album he had scammed his parents into buying for him. You would both marvel at how awesome it was.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Oakwood Homes
This week, we are traveling to the wonderful city of Grand Forks, ND, home of my college alma mater and really good grinders. We will be descending upon Lin and Carolyn's, and along with about fifteen of my best friends on this planet, we'll turn their house into a three day commune of drunken fellowship.
This reunion of friends--half of which I have known my entire conscious life--has gained some steam over the last couple of years as we have come to realize the incredible zen of our group. Old friends see past all pretenses, insecurities, and less-than-perfect pasts. They are not impressed with wallet sizes, business portfolios, or financial net-worths. What you may or may not own is all baggage, left at the door.
There are much more important priorities among old friends (I will address the subject of "priorities" in another post), like: Can Randy out arm wrestle Darin? Will Lin's Bloody Marys still hold the best mixed drink award? Or will Ron's Beaver Dams or Berta's new found Duck Farts take the title away? And deep questions will be pondered, like: What is the true meaning of success? And, where the hell are the Popsicles?
Some notable people aren't going to be able to make it this time: Scooter, Brad, Wendy, Robert Zimmerman. But they will make up for it next time.
And, no doubt, there will be a next time. The plans will start out very realistic, like: WeFest, Randy's house, or Minneapolis. Then, as the drinks start to take effect, they will become semi-realistic: Spring Training in Arizona, a resort in the Bahamas, a cruise. Then, when we get to the "it sure seemed like a good idea last night" phase, the future get-together plans will turn into total madness, like: Let's just permanently move into Lin and Carolyn's. Or, let's plan ahead and book our retirement, rooms at Oakwood Homes (Karlstad's Senior independent living facility).
This reunion of friends--half of which I have known my entire conscious life--has gained some steam over the last couple of years as we have come to realize the incredible zen of our group. Old friends see past all pretenses, insecurities, and less-than-perfect pasts. They are not impressed with wallet sizes, business portfolios, or financial net-worths. What you may or may not own is all baggage, left at the door.
There are much more important priorities among old friends (I will address the subject of "priorities" in another post), like: Can Randy out arm wrestle Darin? Will Lin's Bloody Marys still hold the best mixed drink award? Or will Ron's Beaver Dams or Berta's new found Duck Farts take the title away? And deep questions will be pondered, like: What is the true meaning of success? And, where the hell are the Popsicles?
Some notable people aren't going to be able to make it this time: Scooter, Brad, Wendy, Robert Zimmerman. But they will make up for it next time.
And, no doubt, there will be a next time. The plans will start out very realistic, like: WeFest, Randy's house, or Minneapolis. Then, as the drinks start to take effect, they will become semi-realistic: Spring Training in Arizona, a resort in the Bahamas, a cruise. Then, when we get to the "it sure seemed like a good idea last night" phase, the future get-together plans will turn into total madness, like: Let's just permanently move into Lin and Carolyn's. Or, let's plan ahead and book our retirement, rooms at Oakwood Homes (Karlstad's Senior independent living facility).
Friday, June 13, 2008
San Diego Getaway
San Diego may be one of my favorite places on this planet. In my younger single days, it was an escape. After work on a Friday, I would throw a duffel bag in my car and trek the 350 miles, music blaring all the way. No plans, no itinerary, no worries. I would just find a place to stay, soak up the perfect eighty degree sea air, walk for miles on the beaches, hang out in the bars, and eat as much seafood as I could handle. It would be a spontaneous weekend that a kid from northern Minnesota could not even have imagined a few years earlier.
Last weekend, after a twelve year absence, Jan and I made the trek again, albeit a bit more organized and planned than in the past. We hung out in the Gaslamp Quarter downtown, staying in the Omni Hotel next to the new Petco Park stadium and took in a ballgame. After that, we just walked around the revitalized downtown, where the weekend nightlife is awesome. People everywhere, some dressed up and clubbing it, others just casually hanging around in the vast number of bars and restaurants, all within walking distance. I love cities with places like that. Somebody designed this place right.
On Sunday, before heading home, we stopped by Mission Beach for breakfast at The Firehouse, one of my faves. Mission Beach is where I had hung out over a decade before. Not much had changed, but it didn't seem quite as incredible as I remembered. Jan reminded me that I have seen a bit more of the world since my last travels here and maybe I am just not as easily impressed anymore. Probably true, but I still love it. I will be back.
As we headed home, I couldn't help but start planning another possible location for getting together with friends. It would be fun to stay one night downtown taking in the nightlife, then the next night or two at Mission Beach, hanging out, grilling seafood and steaks, and pounding a few drinks at one of the bars just off the boardwalk. A cottage can hold 4 to 6 people, so a group of 6 to 12 would be pretty easy to accommodate. Just another possibility to think about down the road...
Last weekend, after a twelve year absence, Jan and I made the trek again, albeit a bit more organized and planned than in the past. We hung out in the Gaslamp Quarter downtown, staying in the Omni Hotel next to the new Petco Park stadium and took in a ballgame. After that, we just walked around the revitalized downtown, where the weekend nightlife is awesome. People everywhere, some dressed up and clubbing it, others just casually hanging around in the vast number of bars and restaurants, all within walking distance. I love cities with places like that. Somebody designed this place right.
On Sunday, before heading home, we stopped by Mission Beach for breakfast at The Firehouse, one of my faves. Mission Beach is where I had hung out over a decade before. Not much had changed, but it didn't seem quite as incredible as I remembered. Jan reminded me that I have seen a bit more of the world since my last travels here and maybe I am just not as easily impressed anymore. Probably true, but I still love it. I will be back.
As we headed home, I couldn't help but start planning another possible location for getting together with friends. It would be fun to stay one night downtown taking in the nightlife, then the next night or two at Mission Beach, hanging out, grilling seafood and steaks, and pounding a few drinks at one of the bars just off the boardwalk. A cottage can hold 4 to 6 people, so a group of 6 to 12 would be pretty easy to accommodate. Just another possibility to think about down the road...
Thursday, June 12, 2008
94.9 San Diego
By the time you are 44, all most people listen to is the stuff they grew up with. I just ain't that nostalgic. Hardly a week goes by without me buying some new music.
Music consumes a large part of my life. For my birthday, I dragged Jan to San Diego for the weekend. We took in a Padres game on Saturday and spent all of Sunday at an alternative music festival sponsored by a local radio station.
There were several bands on the play list I wanted to see, including the Hold Steady, which I had already seen twice this year, and Flogging Molly, an Irish punk band out of LA. They didn't disappoint.
But the band I was really there to see was a newer Athens's based three piece band called the Whigs. As the band started their short forty-five minute set, I could feel myself being sucked toward the front of the stage. The Whigs are a straight-forward, percussion driven, power chord loving indie bar band. Check out Right Hand On My Heart.
Not too long ago, I was trying to explain my old album collection to a friend. I can randomly pick out an album that I may have bought twenty years ago and tell you where I was, what I was doing, and probably even what beer I was drinking when I bought it. The Whigs' Mission Control, is that kind of CD. In the future, it will remind me of now. In some ways, your music collection is your autobiography, a collection of who you are and how you see yourself. After all, music is not about how it sounds, it is about how it makes you feel.
Music consumes a large part of my life. For my birthday, I dragged Jan to San Diego for the weekend. We took in a Padres game on Saturday and spent all of Sunday at an alternative music festival sponsored by a local radio station.
There were several bands on the play list I wanted to see, including the Hold Steady, which I had already seen twice this year, and Flogging Molly, an Irish punk band out of LA. They didn't disappoint.
But the band I was really there to see was a newer Athens's based three piece band called the Whigs. As the band started their short forty-five minute set, I could feel myself being sucked toward the front of the stage. The Whigs are a straight-forward, percussion driven, power chord loving indie bar band. Check out Right Hand On My Heart.
Not too long ago, I was trying to explain my old album collection to a friend. I can randomly pick out an album that I may have bought twenty years ago and tell you where I was, what I was doing, and probably even what beer I was drinking when I bought it. The Whigs' Mission Control, is that kind of CD. In the future, it will remind me of now. In some ways, your music collection is your autobiography, a collection of who you are and how you see yourself. After all, music is not about how it sounds, it is about how it makes you feel.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Polygamy
So, it appears that the saga at the Yearning for Zion ranch is concluding (somewhat) with the return of most of the children to their families. Now, personally, I don’t really care what a person chooses to do or how a person chooses to live their life as long as no one is forced into doing something or living that way. While I understand where the practice of polygamy originates, I, personally, believe that, as a Christian, it is an antiquated practice that will no longer help you get into heaven.
Long before any of this hubbub started, I was intrigued by the beliefs behind the practice of polygamy and did quite a bit of research on the practice. I know that there are people who sincerely and earnestly believe in the practice, but don’t believe that anyone should be forced into a plural marriage situation. Might be odd, but if everyone is going into the arrangement with their eyes open and aren’t being forced into it, I really don’t have a problem with it. I realize that polygamy is an illegal practice, but there are other people who live illegal or what could be considered immoral lifestyles, and, as long as they don’t hurt anyone, I really don’t care.
There are also people, such as some in the FDLS, who will force their beliefs upon the women and men in the sect, even to the point of marrying 12 year old girls and forcing young men out of the sect to make sure that there are enough girls/women for the older men. In my opinion, that goes beyond religious beliefs, and more toward sexual gratification. Just my opinion.
I also believe that some of the children in this sect likely need some protective intervention. Women and girls are basically seen as “baby machines”, and I’m sure that in this environment, some men are sexual predators. It would be a prefect place for a sexual predator to blend in. Kind of makes me sick.
However, when the Texas government stepped in and took all of the children out of this very cloistered environment based on anonymous telephone allegations of one person, who couldn’t actually even be identified as being in the Yearning for Zion ranch, I was troubled. I was glad to know that the kids who need protection were going to get it, but troubled that the kids who didn’t need protection were taken from the only place that they have ever known and placed into an environment that they have been told they cannot trust. How traumatic is that to a child? The ability of a governmental authority being able to separate members of a family with no real evidence will never sit well with me.
Part of the blame falls squarely on the FDLS. Their protective environment allowed them to practice their unconventional religious beliefs basically undisturbed, but it also left much room for rumor and insinuation by the outside world, which is what lead the Texas child protective services to take all of the children. I do understand why Texas felt they needed to do what they did and don’t fault them for it.
But, I’ll always be just a little uncomfortable about it.
Long before any of this hubbub started, I was intrigued by the beliefs behind the practice of polygamy and did quite a bit of research on the practice. I know that there are people who sincerely and earnestly believe in the practice, but don’t believe that anyone should be forced into a plural marriage situation. Might be odd, but if everyone is going into the arrangement with their eyes open and aren’t being forced into it, I really don’t have a problem with it. I realize that polygamy is an illegal practice, but there are other people who live illegal or what could be considered immoral lifestyles, and, as long as they don’t hurt anyone, I really don’t care.
There are also people, such as some in the FDLS, who will force their beliefs upon the women and men in the sect, even to the point of marrying 12 year old girls and forcing young men out of the sect to make sure that there are enough girls/women for the older men. In my opinion, that goes beyond religious beliefs, and more toward sexual gratification. Just my opinion.
I also believe that some of the children in this sect likely need some protective intervention. Women and girls are basically seen as “baby machines”, and I’m sure that in this environment, some men are sexual predators. It would be a prefect place for a sexual predator to blend in. Kind of makes me sick.
However, when the Texas government stepped in and took all of the children out of this very cloistered environment based on anonymous telephone allegations of one person, who couldn’t actually even be identified as being in the Yearning for Zion ranch, I was troubled. I was glad to know that the kids who need protection were going to get it, but troubled that the kids who didn’t need protection were taken from the only place that they have ever known and placed into an environment that they have been told they cannot trust. How traumatic is that to a child? The ability of a governmental authority being able to separate members of a family with no real evidence will never sit well with me.
Part of the blame falls squarely on the FDLS. Their protective environment allowed them to practice their unconventional religious beliefs basically undisturbed, but it also left much room for rumor and insinuation by the outside world, which is what lead the Texas child protective services to take all of the children. I do understand why Texas felt they needed to do what they did and don’t fault them for it.
But, I’ll always be just a little uncomfortable about it.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Obama and Hillary
I have stated in the past that I have lost some respect for McCain over the years. I feel he bent over and kissed the Republican establishment's behind over the last few years, all in the name of politic expediency.
If Obama selects Hillary as his running mate, he would also gain nothing. Anyone who would vote for her would never vote for McCain anyway. His focal point on gaining people's trust and belief in hope would be shot, since she also is also nothing but an establishment candidate.
As a Libertarian, I tend to lean toward the Republicans (although I have never voted for a Republican Presidential candidate). I am leaning toward Obama, but if Clinton gets the VP nomination, Obama is off my radar. I will either bite my lip and vote for McCain, hoping he tends back toward his maverick past, or I will again find my third party candidate and vote on principle, sacrificing realist expectations of selecting a winner and sticking with my principles. Being honest to what you believe is more important than being with a winner.
This is not necessarily bad for Obama. In my entire voting career, I have never voted for the winning Presidential candidate.
If Obama selects Hillary as his running mate, he would also gain nothing. Anyone who would vote for her would never vote for McCain anyway. His focal point on gaining people's trust and belief in hope would be shot, since she also is also nothing but an establishment candidate.
As a Libertarian, I tend to lean toward the Republicans (although I have never voted for a Republican Presidential candidate). I am leaning toward Obama, but if Clinton gets the VP nomination, Obama is off my radar. I will either bite my lip and vote for McCain, hoping he tends back toward his maverick past, or I will again find my third party candidate and vote on principle, sacrificing realist expectations of selecting a winner and sticking with my principles. Being honest to what you believe is more important than being with a winner.
This is not necessarily bad for Obama. In my entire voting career, I have never voted for the winning Presidential candidate.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
It is the End of the World
In The Road, Cormac McCarthy (author of No Country for Old Men) uses the landscape of the earth’s total destruction as his canvas to paint a picture of the end of mankind. The canvas is large and overwhelming, full of Armageddon, death, despair and unimaginable evil. The world has been hit by some unrevealed catastrophe and a dying father and his small child wonder from place to place eluding starvation and desperate scavengers trying to eat them. The small boy’s faith becomes the only speck of golden paint on this entire black canvas.
It is an interesting, albeit depressing story, but it reveals amazingly different things to different readers. Some will finish the book and stockpile canned goods and ammo. Others will see the small glimmer of hope and come away with a renewed faith in humanity’s ability to rejuvenate itself.
An innocent child submerged in total evil is not an uncommon theme in fiction or nonfiction (Spielberg loves to use children characters in his movies in this way, and the books The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski, The Diary of Ann Frank, and Night by Elie Wiesel also come to mind). It is interesting how we see the innocence of children as the key to overcoming mankind’s darkest evil side, bringing us back to humanity’s ideal.
If you can’t handle the idea of people being capable of eating babies, then this story is definitely not for you. On the other hand, if you are interested in discovering whether you are the ammo stockpiling fanatic type or a person of undying hope, it may be worth checking out.
It is an interesting, albeit depressing story, but it reveals amazingly different things to different readers. Some will finish the book and stockpile canned goods and ammo. Others will see the small glimmer of hope and come away with a renewed faith in humanity’s ability to rejuvenate itself.
An innocent child submerged in total evil is not an uncommon theme in fiction or nonfiction (Spielberg loves to use children characters in his movies in this way, and the books The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski, The Diary of Ann Frank, and Night by Elie Wiesel also come to mind). It is interesting how we see the innocence of children as the key to overcoming mankind’s darkest evil side, bringing us back to humanity’s ideal.
If you can’t handle the idea of people being capable of eating babies, then this story is definitely not for you. On the other hand, if you are interested in discovering whether you are the ammo stockpiling fanatic type or a person of undying hope, it may be worth checking out.
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