Based upon many, many years of research and observation, I have a theory to offer the scientific world: The size of jewelry worn about the face and neck is in direct proportion to the diminished mental capacity if the wearer because said metal and plastic ornamentation blocks the transmission of intelligent thought waves within the wearer's brain.
This is especially true with very large earrings.
The alternative theory is that large quantities of jewelry around the face and neck attract those random stupid thoughts that float in the universe having been released when brain surgery is done on people who have had the self-restraint not to act on them.
31 May 2011
28 May 2011
Thoughts on Memorial Day
Having grown up in a family with a Dad who had served in World War II and a Mom who worked in a defense plant during the same war, and both of them very active in the Veterans of Foreign Wars post in my hometown, Memorial Day was always an important event in our home. There was a parade and then some ceremony. I recall Dad on the speaker's platform when he was serving as commander of the VFW post. So I approach this "holiday" with a reverence that borders on religious.
From younger days when I saw American history as an endless string of "us versus them" conflicts where the emphasis and fascination was on the "heroic soldier," my thinking and feelings have evolved into something much more sophisticated and subtle. While Memorial Day was originally intended to honor those who fell in battle, it has become a cross between honoring anyone who served and some sort of official start to the summer outdoor grilling season. The later having no connection to the former in the minds of many people--just a three-day weekend at the beginning of summer.
More and more I have come to view the true human costs of war not in terms of those who laid down their lives for our country. In a sense their pain and suffering ended when life left their bodies. The long term costs of wars has been in those left behind. The broken families, hugs never given, friendships never shared, communities and homes a little diminished for loss of each life. There is also the suffering of those who survived battle's horrors. Today we are more attuned to what is labeled post-traumatic stress, but that does not lessen the internal battles which occupy the minds of those who survived.
The film "We Were Soldiers," which is about the U.S.'s early involvement in Vietnam, offers images of what I have come to see as the ultimate costs of war--the delivery of telegrams to the wives of men who were killed in the battle. The soldiers who died paid a heavy price, but so did their families, loved ones and friends who had to live out their lives with only the memory of their lost ones.
This Memorial Day I will keep in my thoughts all those who are today still paying the price for war: lives traumatized, the "vacant chair," the parent gone forever. Herman Wouk wrote, "Th beginning of the end of War lies in Remembrance." When we forget the true price of war, we will continue to fight wars.
From younger days when I saw American history as an endless string of "us versus them" conflicts where the emphasis and fascination was on the "heroic soldier," my thinking and feelings have evolved into something much more sophisticated and subtle. While Memorial Day was originally intended to honor those who fell in battle, it has become a cross between honoring anyone who served and some sort of official start to the summer outdoor grilling season. The later having no connection to the former in the minds of many people--just a three-day weekend at the beginning of summer.
More and more I have come to view the true human costs of war not in terms of those who laid down their lives for our country. In a sense their pain and suffering ended when life left their bodies. The long term costs of wars has been in those left behind. The broken families, hugs never given, friendships never shared, communities and homes a little diminished for loss of each life. There is also the suffering of those who survived battle's horrors. Today we are more attuned to what is labeled post-traumatic stress, but that does not lessen the internal battles which occupy the minds of those who survived.
The film "We Were Soldiers," which is about the U.S.'s early involvement in Vietnam, offers images of what I have come to see as the ultimate costs of war--the delivery of telegrams to the wives of men who were killed in the battle. The soldiers who died paid a heavy price, but so did their families, loved ones and friends who had to live out their lives with only the memory of their lost ones.
This Memorial Day I will keep in my thoughts all those who are today still paying the price for war: lives traumatized, the "vacant chair," the parent gone forever. Herman Wouk wrote, "Th beginning of the end of War lies in Remembrance." When we forget the true price of war, we will continue to fight wars.
16 May 2011
Men doing what?
Admittedly, I have gone way out of my way the past 40+ years to avoid locker rooms, but my recent foray into water aerobic exercise has caused me to become re-acquainted with those bastions of maleness. What has caught my attention is the tendency of men, even the 20-somethings, to grunt and groan as they dress and undress, towel or eliminate bodily waste.
Is the Freeport YMCA an enclave for overly vociferous males who announce every exertion with what Shakespeare calls "windy suppuration of forced breath," or am I too long away from male company in such surroundings? Do women vocalize their efforts with such in their locker rooms?
I find it all so odd, so very odd.
Is the Freeport YMCA an enclave for overly vociferous males who announce every exertion with what Shakespeare calls "windy suppuration of forced breath," or am I too long away from male company in such surroundings? Do women vocalize their efforts with such in their locker rooms?
I find it all so odd, so very odd.
15 May 2011
"I'm just sayin..."
Upon reflection I have come to the conclusion that the Finch male of a certain generation has a tendency to become more and more vocally opinionated in old age. We were brought up in an environment where "children are to be seen and not heard," and where the elders of the family were inclined to contradict or correct you at any time--regardless of your age and/or how embarrassing it was in that situation. Therefore, we grew up having to bottle up lots of opinions and feelings.
Now that we've reach the age where there are no more "parental" figures to stomp on us, we tend toward become more vociferous in expressing our feelings, and perhaps even seem to expose a certain meanness of spirit at times. Or at least I sometimes feel that in afterthought of a comment that it was "out of character" for me, so my old self sees it as a mean spirited. Thin line between being a lovable curmudgeon and a crabby old codger.
On the other hand, maybe I am just getting too self-analytical in my dotage.
"Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him well."
Now that we've reach the age where there are no more "parental" figures to stomp on us, we tend toward become more vociferous in expressing our feelings, and perhaps even seem to expose a certain meanness of spirit at times. Or at least I sometimes feel that in afterthought of a comment that it was "out of character" for me, so my old self sees it as a mean spirited. Thin line between being a lovable curmudgeon and a crabby old codger.
On the other hand, maybe I am just getting too self-analytical in my dotage.
"Alas, poor Yorick, I knew him well."
08 May 2011
Reflections on a Day for Mom
When you reach my age and there are too many important people in your life who are no longer here, days like Mother's Day become bittersweet.
My parents were not the types to overtly express feelings; life was a series of unspoken affectiona that were demonstrated by just doing things or buying things for the person for whom love was felt. As a result, Mother's Day was never about hugs and saying, "I love you, Mom." It was being there and having a gift, regardless of how useless or unneeded it was. "It's the thought that counts," was coined for my mother.
Nevertheless, now that she's gone, days like today cause me to miss the hugs and "I love yous" that should have been standard fare. I only pray that I have done a better job expressing to my family the love I feel for them.
My parents were not the types to overtly express feelings; life was a series of unspoken affectiona that were demonstrated by just doing things or buying things for the person for whom love was felt. As a result, Mother's Day was never about hugs and saying, "I love you, Mom." It was being there and having a gift, regardless of how useless or unneeded it was. "It's the thought that counts," was coined for my mother.
Nevertheless, now that she's gone, days like today cause me to miss the hugs and "I love yous" that should have been standard fare. I only pray that I have done a better job expressing to my family the love I feel for them.
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