Post No. 199: Son, Everything is going to be Alright

© 2022, the Institute for Applied Common Sense

Six hours ago, I returned to my temporary home of Carlsbad, California, fresh from a productive day dealing with my 3 week transition. I had become a resident of the Golden State, once again. When I woke up at 4:30 am, Pacific, I was consumed with the notion of cyberterrorism, prompted by Putin's desire to accomplish "something," although elusive it may have been from my personal perspective.  (I will not comment on our former President's emotional support). Despite the relative youth of the day, I found myself shelling out cash for VPN software (free being deemed inadequate), and sharing my internet concerns with many a friend, and a thousand or so strangers.

 

 

As the day wore on, despite an absence of CNN input, I became increasingly concerned about the future of humanity. As the day wore further on, I realized that I had transformed myself into an itinerant preacher, proselytizing far and wide about how we citizens might collectively seek a better future for all. I must have struck a chord since, much to my surprise (and perhaps dismay), roughly 99% of people who I engaged took the time to listen.

 

 

Of course, the more prudent side of this tradition - based Negro suggested I exercise care to avoid being labelled paranoid, over reactive, out of sync with the prevailing mood, or what was perhaps, trending. I managed to get home on the last bus, using a new route, at 9:38 pm (having inattentively missed the preceding 3). I soon found myself 1/4 of a mile from the vast Pacific, while waves beat peacefully against the shore. I breathed a sigh of relief. Although the shore itself was hauntingly quiet, I heard youngsters partying at the local bars, having a good time, perhaps as they should have been. As I walked the remaining 3/4 of a mile to my temporary home, I thought how this time it might be different, and how the giant moats called oceans, just might not be enough to protect us.

 

 

I crossed the street to my old reliable haunt (which I had not visited during my 14 years back in North Carolina), the local 7 – 11.  It was my place of refuge following the Northridge earthquake of 1994, at 4:30:55 am. I remembered how I was thrown out of my bed onto the floor, stepped on my glasses trying to stand up, and that lights disappeared all over Southern California. I spent 37 minutes perusing bottles of red wine (which I had not consumed in the preceding 18 months), cost be damned.  I grabbed some bacon jerky strips (which I had never previously consumed), before approaching the clerk, who exhibited a strained smile, wondering whether I was Michael Brown and this was Ferguson, Missouri.

 

 

And this I said, without the least bit of hesitation, and no introduction or segue following the usual transactional conversation: "I'm 70 years of age, and will soon turn 71 in a few months, and this s _ _ _ is serious.  THIS is the most unsettling time of my entire life after having endured a 3 – ½ day Amtrak journey across the country just three weeks ago, today."  I suggested that we all might consider discontinuing doing business as usual, and start getting prepared.

 

 

He looked at me with a responsive demeanor and degree of seriousness which suggested that he knew exactly what I was talking about, and implicitly appreciated that I had not even opened the bottle of wine. Any smile or even grimace, which he might have possibly entertained, suddenly disappeared.

 

 

As I exited my refuge, which had comforted me during many an earthquake during my 30 years in Los Angeles, I wondered, "How many other people are as afraid on a basic, visceral level as I am?" I'm frigging scared. You can call me a weakling if you want. I prefer honesty and being a realist.

 

 

And then I recalled one of the most comforting conversations I ever had with my Father, a World War II veteran, D - Day plus 6, and a great man, and not just because he was my Father. Prior to that time, I could not ever recall him discussing his experiences in the war. He called me a few hours later during that morning, and said that everything was going to be alright. He imagined that the earthquake was similar to when he was in London, when Hitler was tossing V - 1 rockets (not even close to those of the Francis Scott Key variety) across the Channel. He said the percussive nature of the bombs made the buildings shake in a way that he had never envisioned. Although he was terrified, he said that he got through it, and that I would also.

 

 

Here's hoping that my Dad is right this time around, although he is no longer with us....

 

Post No. 198: There Has to be Something Bigger than One's Self

© 2020, the Institute for Applied Common Sense

My last blog post was on June 4, 2016.  It has been a complex 4 years. Shortly before that date, my good friend, mentor, and Founding Member of the Institute for Applied Common Sense, Willy Hopkins (a/k/a The Laughingman), left, as he would characterize it, “…this mortal coil.”  My father, who I consider to have been a great man (and not just because he was my father), passed a couple of weeks short of his 97^th birthday. He had that indomitable spirit and positive influence on me to the end. Finally, one of the most in-depth thinkers and a calming influence in my life, Darryl Jackson (a/k/a The Optimizer of the Institute), passed far too early in life when he had so much more value to bestow on the young people who he taught.

So here I stand, the only surviving member of the Institute for Applied Common Sense (2 weeks shy of the tender age of 69 and before I start the 2^nd half of my life), trying to figure out what to say in 750 words or less, which pays tribute to these men in life, and yet encapsulates all my thoughts for the past 4 years.  In September of last year, while observing the Senate hearings on Brett Kavanaugh, I decided on the title of this piece, but did not get around to writing it until today, when the memorial service for civil rights icon, John Lewis, took place.  I listened to all of the speakers at his service, and there appeared to be a common theme, and thus the title of this piece.

Recently, I have been concerned about the extent to which many people think that, “it’s all about them, and what they want.”   My dad was a caring, humble, relatively quiet man, who did wonders for his community.  He won several community service awards from the NAACP and never mentioned them to me while I was living in California.  But then again, he never had to be concerned about being re-elected.

I first started gathering my thoughts about this life principle when Bill Clinton was facing impeachment.  It just seemed to me that the office and institution of the presidency, and the goals which he sought to accomplish, were more important than Bill Clinton, the individual, remaining in that position. He was not the only individual who could advance those goals.  Additionally, his credibility and effectiveness were severely affected by his indiscretions.  My position is that he should have immediately resigned, and allowed his vice – president, Al Gore, to carry on the mission (which Clinton did not personally own).  

I felt the same way during the hearings with respect to prospective Supreme Court Associate Justice, Brett Cavanaugh.  Even if he felt that the allegations of sexual misconduct had no validity whatsoever, I felt that he should have removed his name from consideration and fought the allegations outside of the context of the hearings.  Once again, it seemed to me that the seat and institution of the Supreme Court justice, and the goals which his party and supporters sought to accomplish, were more important than Brett Cavanagh, the individual, putting up a fight to acquire that position. He was not the only individual who could advance those goals. 

Additionally, his credibility and effectiveness, and respect for the Court would be, arguably, negatively impacted by his getting the seat.  Why would someone want that to satisfy one’s personal desires?  Interestingly, right after Mr. Kavanagh was successful in fending off the challenges, and confirmed by the Senate, President Trump congratulated Mr. Kavanagh for putting up the vigorous fight, and alluded to former Senator Al Franken, as having “folded like a wet rag.”

So, what is my message to college students, who are my target audience?  It seems to me that personal responsibility includes thinking beyond one’s self and one’s personal goals.  Though the Laughingman and the Optimizer are gone, I still reach out to others to expand my thinking about the concepts and issues about which I write.  The Laughingman introduced me to someone who often provides kernels of thought.  During an exchange with him earlier this year, he suggested that I pose two questions to the readers of this piece.

The first was, “What would your grandfather or grandmother have done confronted with your current situation?”

The second was, “While you may presently be strapped for money because of being ‘sheltered in place’, you now have a lot of free time.  What can you do with this free time to make a difference in the quality of someone else’s life?”  He suggests that thinking about improving someone else’s life can help you improve your own....