The Hicks Place

Summer Time

Summer time is usually my favorite time because I feel best when the sun is shinning and when it is warm, but this year it has been really too hot to enjoy being out of doors.  Of course it was hot when i was young and we had no air conditioning and haymaking and thrashing on the farm were hard, sweaty work.  I wonder now how the older men endured it, but they were used to it and knew the work had to be done.

Last Sunday was our family reunion, and my cousins and I are now the oldest living generation.  I am fortunate to remember well all of my grandparents who were still living when I graduated from college.  They were farming families who came from farming backgrounds, and all of my aunts and uncles lived on the farm except Ada Mae, and her husband Landon worked mostly on a farm.  We all lived within a 30 mile radius so we saw each other often, and had large family reunions almost every summer.  Now our families are spread out, particularly the next generation, so it is likely that when we cousins are gone, the annual reunion will probably become a thing of the past.  We used to have our reunions at parks or at someones farm house, but now we have it in an air conditioned VFW hall, and that was a good thing this year!  

Attendance by the younger generations was sparse, although I was very pleased that my grandson and great granddaughters were there.  Of course we older ones remenisce with each other about fond memories and probe each others minds for answers to questions we now wish we had asked our parents while they were living.  There are a lot of experiences we could share with our children about what it was like growing up in rural Indiana during the 1940's, but our lifestyle then does not much interest most of them until they reach 50, and then our times together are occupied mostly with entertaining grand children and we want to know what is happening in their lives.  Our mortality really doesn't sink in until we near retirement, and it is not particulary healthy to look back too much.  Whatever the purpose of life is, it is to be lived, and the more active we are the fuller and happier our life experience will be.

So, yesterday Marcia and I went to the Indianapolis International Film Festival at the Indianapolis Museum of Art which is not far from where we live.  We saw Summer Pasture , a documentary about nomadic life in the highlands of Tibet.  At least there they are not concerned with the heat, but their livelihood depends upon the milk from their Yak herds, and the dung from them is their source of heat.  At 15,000 ft. it is a harsh environment except in summer.  Recently these nomads have found a new source of income, Caterpillar Fungus , which is in great demand for use in medicines.  This is a poignant film, depicting the nomadic life and the particular hardships of the female who is expected to do most of the work.  It is no wonder that these nomadic groups are disintegrating as more and more of the younger ones leave for life in the remote towns.  I was touched by the young mother's experience and her endurance, and I strongly recommend seeing this film.  It will make you appreciate that life is difficult around the world, but more difficult in some places than others. 

I continue to read, having recently finished F. Scot Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night, and currently slogging through W. Somerset Maugham's Of Human Bondage.  Fitgerald's book is interesting both for its description of affluent life in France in the 1920's and the treatment of mental disorders by the self-centered psychiatrist who is the main character.  His wife is a patient, and he himself is flawed, as of course we all are.  Maugham's book is about the life of a physically handicapped man, his search for love and an occupation, and struggles to overcome his feelings of inadequacy.  Thrown into both books are passages regarding the author's views on life, religion and politics of the day.  Just the stuff I love to read for its historical insight.

I find myself now taking little time with the newspaper and television news reports.  Most of the news is not encouraging.  Sure I care about what life may hold for my children and grand children, but most of the people who are in a position to influence the future of our country are really more concerned about the next election than they are about doing what is best for the U. S. of A., and the World!  I vote; I abhor the money spent on elections.  Just think what good could be accomplished if that money were spent "for the good of the people"!  There isn't much I can do at my age to influence the future.  All I can do really is to encourage young people to seek knowledge, beware of slogans and sound bites, be tolerant but do not abide fools!  Read!       

 

 

My Emotions.

Spring is a time of year, perhaps more than any other, when I have highs and lows.  Having grown up on a farm, it brings to me thoughts of new growth, the smell off the earth freshly plowed in preparation for planting.  The smell of honeysuckle and locust trees in bloom, the moist woods and the musk of mushrooms.  A time when today may be sunny and warm, but tomorrow rainy and cold.  But however uncertain the weather of Spring may be there is always the hope and certainty that as time passes there will be more sunshine than clouds and more warmth than bleakness. 

In other words, this is the time of year when my emotions take a roller coaster ride.  This last week has certainly been an extremely wild ride indeed.  Last Sunday afternoon it was sunny and warm here as Marcia and I walked along the banks of the Roanoke River.  I didn't realize how much sun my legs were getting until Monday morning, when the redness from my knees to my ankles stood out in contrast to the whiteness of my thighs and feet.  My outlook on life is always positive at such times.  My soul is at peace when, in the early evening I can watch the lengthening shadows of the sunset, catch a glimpse of sunlight still on the surrounding mountain tops, and feel a gentle warm breeze on my skin as I enjoy daylight softening on our patio or balcony.  Those are the good times for Marcia and me!

Then, more quickly than the good feelings, came death and destruction.  I watched with sadness welling up in my eyes as the television pictures showed the widespread devastation brought across the South by the worst outbreak of tornados in this country since 1925.  At such times, one feels so helpless, as indeed we are because we are at the mercy of the forces of nature, of  weather, earthquake, tsunami; the power that gives us such pleasure at the beauty of mountains, valleys, oceans, rivers, sunsets and sunrises, must inevitably also give us the sorrow of  destruction, loss of property and life.  Then at the end of the week our TV screens were filled with pictures of beauty and love, of a Prince by the simple act of marriage giving a beautiful young lady the title of Princess.  Life promissing renewal. 

My emotions take similar rides as I read.  I guess that is a major reason I do so.  I was lead to "Winter's Bone" by Daniel Woodrell after having recently watched an episode of Anthony Bordain's "No Reservations".  Bordain was in the Ozarks, experiencing the life and food of the hunters and fishers who live there.  He had come there because of his liking of the writings of Woodrell, who was his guide during the filming of that show.  "Winter's Bone" describes the determination of a sixteen year old girl - her dad who "cooks crank" out on bond but missing, her mother who sits as her mind drifts in and out of reality - trying to keep her young brothers in school, fed and clothed and away from the drug society which surrounds them.  Rural poverty.

Then I saw where the 2011 Pulitzer for fiction had been awarded to Jennifer Egan for her book, "A Visit From The Goon Squad".  The characters in the life of Sasha, bound together by their involvement with her or the music industry, their struggles to grow up, each with a "pause" in their life, which either they survive to become better or just live through, or sadly do not.  I think we all have pauses in our lives.  I hadn't thought of life that way before, but it is somehow comforting.  Like a pause in a song, a short time to reflect, and then it continues.

How much more precious life is when we acknowledge how fortunate we are to have survived the pauses.  God help and be with those who are less fortunate than we.   

Progress is great, mostly!

The following is copied from an e-mail I got today from a friend.  If I knew the original source I would give credit here, because these are not my original thoughts.  But it seems to me that whomever the author of this is would not mind my republishing it here.  I hope not.

How wasteful the Older Generation Was ... NOT !!!

 

In line at the store, the cashier told the older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.  The woman apologized to him and explained, “We didn’t have the green thing back in my day.”

 

The clerk responded, "That's our problem today.  The former generation did not care enough to save our environment."

He was right, that generation didn’t have the green thing in its day. 

 Back then, they returned their milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store.  The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over.  So they really were recycled.

But they didn’t have the green thing back in that customer's day.

In her day, they walked up stairs, because they didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building. They walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time they had to go two blocks.

But she was right. They didn’t have the green thing in her day.

Back then, they washed the baby’s diapers because they didn’t have the throw-away kind. They dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts – wind and solar power really did dry the clothes. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing.

But that old lady is right, they didn’t have the green thing back in her day.

Back then, they had one TV, or radio, in the house – not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief, not a screen the size of the state of Montana . In the kitchen, they blended and stirred by hand because they didn’t have electric machines to do everything for you.  When they packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, they used a wadded up old newspaper to cushion it, not styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.

Back then, they didn’t fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. They used a push mower that ran on human power. They exercised by working so they didn’t need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity.

But she’s right, they didn’t have the green thing back then.

They drank from a fountain when they were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time they had a drink of water. They refilled their writing pens with ink instead of buying a new pen, and they replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull.

But they didn’t have the green thing back then.

 

Back then, people took the streetcar or a bus and kids rode their bikes to school or rode the school bus instead
of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. They had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And they didn’t need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space in order to find the nearest pizza joint.

But isn't it sad that the current generation laments how wasteful the old folks were just because they didn't have the green thing back then???

 

Right Now, Woolf Has Got Me!

I am so conscious now of my thoughts, how they wander, and that I actually do form an opinion in my mind, though fleetingly and of no real significance or accuracy, about persons around me or just appearing briefly in my minds eye, or of a scene or situation present or recalled.  Last night, as we (Marcia and I) were having dinner at our favorite casual place, waiting patiently for the game to start, enjoying our bar food and drink, talking about our day, the fact that it was our wedding aniversary but we were really going to celebrate it today instead of then when our evening was filled with going to the play which Emily was in at her school, and then the lateness of the game, I found myself evaluating the situation of the group at the table next to us. 

All of us in the room were drawn together by our interest in the coming game, the common wish for a Butler win, the excitement and anticipation was evident in the good mood apparent on our often smiling faces. 

Already, when we sat down, there were five young men at the next table, obviously either Butler students or recent graduates, devouring sandwiches with onion rings and beer, having conversation which my hearing could not detect over the noise of the surroundings.  An older woman, perhaps the mother of the one she sat down by, was the first to join them.  I had finished my martini, Marcia her wine, it was still a half hour until game time, we ordered a beer, and young women began to join their men at the next table.  The first was a striking, slender faced blond with large eyes, a short, well proportioned frame, fashionably dressed in fur topped brown boots, not too tight black leggings, a long beige sweater cinched at the waist with a black tie.  Even before I saw her, the young man with the most sensitive face of the group, of similar complexion to the girl, rose quickly to his feet, came out from behind the table and met his girl, drew her close and they kissed gently before moving back to the table to sit facing us.  As they sat down, the diamond on her finger was quite noticeable.  She greeted all at the table with a sweet smile, all the young men obviously admired her, their eyes showing that her beauty was not unnoticed.  She engaged easily in their conversation while leaning on the shoulder of her chosen one, he proud to have her there, raising his esteem in the presence of his peers. 

Soon, two more attractive but less striking young women, with darker hair, darker eyes and complexions, less fashionably dressed in jeans and t-shirts but also with diamonds on their fingers joined the group, so that only two of the young men were left without a special intended mate. 

Marcia and I talked about my sons, about the book she was reading, the girls ordered drinks and sandwiches; my attention returned to the TV with its experts pontificating the special skills, shooting ability, size, athleticism, and likely outcome of the game to follow.

All eyes were on the pictures flashing across the large screens, high on the wall at the end of the room.  Our hopes, confidence, and anticipation that Butler would win were increasing.  At first the game was the center of our common attention, but later I noticed the blond seemed more engaged in texting, and texting, and texting.   Our eyes were up, her's were down, looking at the little device she held in the palm of her ringed hand.  Commercials allowed, one by one, persons rising and walking to the end of the room to dispose of beer imbibed.  The special one returned to the table and, midst short bursts of interest and comment, returned to the little device in her hand.

What is her future and his, will time enrich or diminish that love in their eyes?  What was the importance of communicating with some other one while he was engrossed in the game?  At half time, she and  one of the other girls disappeared and did not return.  Were they concerned about some need to study for a class, perhaps and exam or paper due today? 

I began to fret as Butler seemed to lose their momentum and the game became close.  Marcia and I sat, side by side, yelling, clapping, admonishing the Butler team on to success.   In the end we were happy, the outcome what we wanted, tiredly we came home to bed. 

I hope the lovers are happy.  I hope they have made the right choices, that love lasts, that their admiration, respect, faith and trust in each other continues until death does them part. 

Of course, Virginia would have made this evening and its events, its thoughts much more interesting, detailed, nuanced, thought provoking and fulfilling to read and contemplate. 

It is 42 degrees now, earlier the sun was shining but now the grey clouds of winter have returned.  At least now my flower beds are cleared of leaves, they are fertilized and weed prevention has been put down, the service came this week and applied the early Spring treatment to the lawn.  Now I am waiting for the last (hopefully) plastic pipe joint cement to cure so that I can finish installing the new chrome fixtures in the hall bath upstairs, completing Marcia's redecorating project.  She has design and decorating visions and skill, but I always complain about any way that I am involved, until it is done and I see the outcome which she foresaw. 

We Get What We Vote For

That phrase made famous in the Pogo Comic Strip, "We have met the enemy and he is Us" seems most concisely to describe our political and economic situation today, and indeed life in general. 

We are not a well informed people.  We may think we are, but on too many issues and especially at election time, our intelligence is  shaped by slogans, soundbites, even speeches and debates over simplified and often intentionally designed to mislead and misinform us.  We choose what we read, listen to, and watch most often because we agree with it.  Our frustration with political and economic conditions makes us vulnerable to talking heads who rant and rave about those conditions, but mostly do not inform us of the complexities involved, they merely reinforce our dissatisfaction.

A well functioning Democracy depends upon a well educated and informed people.   The emphasis in our schools tends more and more to the sciences and business, our need to excel in these fields if we are to survive, but fail to recognize the arts, history and social sciences in teaching people how to reason, think and make informed decisions.  Teaching how to recognize the truth, to value the truth, and above all to seek, honor, and admire intelligence may well be criticised as meddling in the character of the student in a way contrary to the wishes of the parent.

We may admire expensive cars, houses, clothing, athletes, etc. but persons with superior knowledge, experience, and training, particularly in politics, history or the science of the environment are subject to being called "Elitists", and one not to be trusted by the "common person", the voter.

So now we have Congress advocating cuts in education and  eliminating funding for public radio and television.  The result is certainly not going to be a better informed public.  I wonder if congress wouldn't be better advised to watch and listen to some public broadcasting than to de-fund it?  Certainly the public would understand more about our world, its history, its environment, its peoples and cultures and about the complexities of the issues of healthcare, immigration, foreign policy, and economics if they listened and watched more public broadcasting programs and less of the obviously biased commercial broadcasting talking heads.

While I claim that we the people are not well informed, I must temper that by saying we don't seem to totally comprehend all that we know, and we are not smart enough to envision or fully understand the consequences of our decisions.  Certainly if the people of Wisconsin were aware of the information now included in Wikipedia regarding Scott Walker, comprehended it and understood the consequences of voting for him, he would not now be their governor.  If you are interested you will follow the link and read it, if you are not you wont take the time which will only enforce my argument.  Many of you after reading it will reject it out of hand as being false and inaccurate, or worse, still think he was a good choice to be governor of that State.

Again, We get what we deserve.

 

 

 

 

Use of My Time.

I wonder how many people tonight are reading "A Bell for Adano", which is a Pulitzer Prize winner written by John Hersey and published in 1944?  I started out the afternoon by watching the Colts take a beating without their starters in a snow storm in Buffalo.  Then I began flipping back and forth between the Ravens/Raiders game and the Eagles and Cowboys.  It soon became apparent that the Ravens would win (my choice) and the Eagles (my choice) would not.  After going around the dial a couple of times, stopping at a couple of distractions briefly, I decided that reading would be the most satisfying use of my time.  

That would have the most calming effect upon me, because I was already convincing myself that the Cowboys were getting the home officiating advantage.  After all, I have absolutely no influence over the outcome of any game I watch, so why not influence my own mental state and perhaps improve my mind.  Sure, football can be entertaining and fun if your favorite team is winning, but I have had enough of football in the last week to last me for a while. 

"A Bell for Adano" tells of an American Major charged with keeping order in the Sicilian village of Adano after it was occupied by the Americans in WW II, and getting life back to normal for its people.  It is full of funny situations and people, but it also reminds the reader that some of the military are better than others in gaining the trust and confidence of the locals.  I am calm now, reminded that most of the time sports are not something worth getting overwrought about.

Marcia on CBS Video

Download MVI_0530.avi        I don't know if this will work.  It is a recording on my camera of our TV playing back the TIVO recording we made of Marcia being interviewed on Tuesday night's CBS news.  It will take a while to download and then some software on your computer should open it.

Marcia on CBS Evening News

I guess none of our friends watch the CBS Evening News with Katie Couric.   Last night, May 6th, the lead-in to that show was part of an interview with Marcia as she left our voting place at Hinkle Fieldhouse, 3 blocks from our house.  As the show opened, there was Marcia in a close frame shot, thoughtfully saying, "I thought we had two good choices and it was difficult for me to make up my mind, (then smiling) but I did".  Then they cut to Katie for her introduction of the lead stories.  Marcia!, on national TV!, and we haven't received one e-mail or phone call about it!  Luckily we have it on TIVO, but we haven't figured out how to save it to some other medium.

As Marcia left the voting place, she stopped and talked briefly with an acquaintance who was handing out literature for one of the candidates for governor.  When she turned to leave she heard a woman nearby say, "should we interview her, does she..." and then very quietly she might have been asking someone if Marcia fit the profile they were looking for.  Next thing, the women was asking Marcia if they could talk with her.  Marcia said she would get nervous and not do well on camera, to which the woman responded, "don't worry, you wont have time to get nervous", and the camera was rolling.  The reporter asked Marcia if she thought this was an especially important primary, and an unusual opportunity for Indiana, to which Marcia replied, "Absolutely, it is unusual for us to get all of this attention, and I hope we send forth the right candidate."  Then the reporter asked if Marcia had any trouble deciding how she would vote.  Marcia said yes, she had given it a lot of thought, and then made the statement above which apparently caught the tone of what someone at the network was looking for. 

This all happened about noon time, long before the polls closed and before it was apparent that the Democrat Presidential Race was going to be so close in Indiana.  As it turned out, Marcia's comment was certainly appropriate for what was to come.  As she was walking away Marcia realized there was no logo on the truck and she didn't know what news organization had done the interview.  When she asked, the cameraman said it was CBS, that if Marcia was shown it would not likely be on the local affiliate but on the national news.   

Marcia came home and set up TIVO to record both the local and national news on channel 8.  Neither of us saw it live.  Marcia was busy with work as usual, and I went out to get a bite to eat and brought carry out back to her.  We didn't watch the TIVO until about 11 o'clock because we had been watching the election returns live.  I was in the bathroom when I heard Marcia scream!  "I'm on!  It's me!  I'm the first on the CBS news."  And she was, even before a shot of Katie, there was Marcia, looking great and sounding smart, her 10 second sound bite on National TV.