Bill Moyers covers the National Guard

See Bill Moyers, on PBS, report on the National Guard's service in Iraq, and the experiences of the soldiers and their families as they prepare to be deployed. http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/blog/2008/09/sacrificing_to_serve.html

Rivermen

As we move down the river of life, sometimes paddling, and sometimes
Moved only by the current, and sometimes
Tossed by rapids and whirlpools, and sometimes
Striking a rock, or an underwater log, and sometimes
Raked by an overhead branch,
We still grab onto our paddles, and try to move out of harm’s way and
Into the peaceful deep pools of clear water.

After all these years, we feel we are experienced rivermen,
Somewhat used to navigating our ways through the rapids, and
Able to avoid the dangers that may lurk ahead, and sometimes
We find ourselves thrust into a side channel, or into the
Worst of a rapids.

And, we almost always make it through, even after getting
Raked by the branches, or tossed about in the rapids, or even
Striking a rock and nearly capsizing.

And even if we overturn, we have our wits about us, and climb back in,
All wet, but little worse for the wear, and able to grab our paddles again,
Dig in, and set our boat back on course.

Of course, this journey is best undertaken with good friends,
Friends you can rely upon to dig hard and deep to move the boat into the
Best place in the rapids, or around the big boulder that lies dead ahead.
Friends who will laugh with you when its over, and help build the campfire at night,
Telling stories and jokes, and making you feel good about yourself, and
Proud of what you accomplished in the day, even though you fell
Overboard, and got soaked, scratched, and bruised.

Your friends know who you are and what you are made of, and
Believe in you, no matter how rough the waters, or how cold the rapids,
Or how sharp the sticks are in the brambles by the side of the river.

Pow Wow Thoughts

I attended the Nez Perce Pow Wow in July.

It was a wonderful experience, full of celebration, spirituality, and the joy of dance and music. Most powerful was the sense of community and acceptance.

All guests were invited to join in the dancing, and to join together in a communal feast, celebration our humanity, and our unity.

We are blessed to be in this rich world.

A Pirate For The Day

I was a pirate in the parade. It was the Fourth of July, and the Manzanita parade needed more pirates, I guess. My friend, the Captain on his band of pirates (he DOES have a day job), recruited me. Last year, he found me in the crowd and harassed me with his sword and his pirate voice. The long term penalty, I guess, for being “found” by the pirates in one parade, is to join their crew next year.

I showed up at the staging area, dressed in my new pirate T-shirt, and belt complete with plastic pirate pistol, sword, and a black bag for treasure, complete with pirate insignia. On my head was a pirate scarf, black of course, and one of my faded blue bandannas. I was ready to party, er pirate.

“Arghh,” was the word of the day, and the rest of the crew and I practiced our pirate talk. One pirate came complete with a parrot pinned to his shirt, and others had their decade-long collection of pirate clothes.

Our Captain soon “removed” a leg, affixed a peg leg made from driftwood, and assumed his throne on a small trailer behind the boat, appearing to water ski with his new peg leg, and grabbed onto his tow rope. He’s the minister at the local Methodist church, and he suddenly didn’t seem too “ministerial”. Perhaps it was the dreadlocks and the big gold earring and the Mardi Gras beads. But, today is the Fourth of July, and its time to live our fantasies.

I didn’t quite fit in as I didn’t wear any “ARGHhyle” socks, but next, year, of course, I will be expected to add to my costume.

We practiced with our large plywood and silver painted swords before the parade started, and filled our buckets with candy, to throw at the kids along the parade. Tension built among all the parade entrants, as we were all eager to get off onto the route, and have fun. We found another group of pirates and had a brief sword fight. Other participants in waiting simply laughed at our antics.

Finally, after the screaming Air Force jet rattled the skies with its booming engines, we were off. As our group was so, well, unique, we were nearly the last in line, and the head of the parade arrived back in our staging area before we left. And, we ended up following several horses, and their contributions to the roadway. Later on, I used my sword as a fake golf club, threatening to chip the “chips” into the crowd. Its not often you get away with this trick on the main street.

Soon, I’m prancing down the streets, yelling “arghhh” and throwing candy to kids. Everyone, it seemed, along the parade route was attired in red, white, and blue, and laughing, and enjoying the day and the parade. We stopped often, and our duct-taped seagull quickly squirted water out of its butt onto the unsuspecting crowd, producing a multitude of laughter and groans. Kids scampered for our candy, and so, we threw them more.

One boy engaged me in a sword fight, his sword meaner and more agile than mine, and we quickly reached a truce. I was too proud, being a pirate, to admit defeat. Another boy ran into the street, and squirted all of us with his big squirt gun, and we bravely fought back with swords and candy, to no avail. Fortunately, the parade kept moving and so we were able to retreat without too much embarrassment. The crowd roared its approval of our defeat by the young warrior.

All too soon, we reached the ocean and the end of the formal parade route. A good thing, too, as I was starting to get hoarse from too many “Arghhhhs”, and “Mateys” and my sword hand was tired. We were also running low on candy. We turned onto the street paralleling the ocean, and then right again, and uphill ten long blocks until we reached the staging area again.

Sadly, I surrendered my sword and my candy bucket, and walked another quarter of a mile to meet my wife, who patiently was waiting for her pirate husband to return, and resume his normal life. As I left the pirate boat and my “mates”, the Captain asked me if I’d be back again next year.

“Aye, aye, Captain,” I replied. I’m hooked on this fun, this time to be a boy again, on the Fourth of July.

Father's Day Thoughts, 2008

As Father’s Day nears, I realize I truly celebrate fatherhood every day of the year.

I’ve always been a son, and have had to redefine that role as I moved from toddler status, to young boy, to adolescent, to early manhood, and then through the various stages of adulthood. Defining that role and that relationship, and feeling comfortable in that role has been one of the themes of my life.

I don’t think I really understood the role of the son and how my father influenced me until after he died. Once I lost the daily, or at least periodic interaction with him, as I was growing up, did I fully appreciate what he meant to me and how we interacted.

He died when I was almost twenty, and I was just starting to figure out the “college years” of my life, and to find my own adult identity. I’m grateful we were finally able to express our love for each other, out loud, just before he died. Just saying those words was healing and fulfilling.

Later on in life, I became a husband and, at the same time, a stepfather. Instant family. But, not so instant. It was a process and a lot of growing occurred, for all of us. It was, rather, an evolution, and a growing into a role, a relationship. I felt I grew more than my new son, but it was a good time for all of us. We came to love each other, and that love deepened. We were able to be free enough with each other to be able to truly respect each other, and to help each other grow in that relationship.

After my stepson left home for college and his own adult life, I realized I truly loved the role of father, and I found myself acting as a father in various capacities with nephews and with other young people. My wife and I became foster parents for a few years, and my fatherhood talents were again stretched and expanded, as those kids brought new and sometimes seemingly unsolvable issues into our lives.

I learned that some kids have really tough lives, and childhood can be really ugly for some people. And, sometimes, a kind adult in a parental role can make a big difference to someone who has always equated parenting with violence and fear and self destruction.

When I was still in college, my mother remarried, and as my new stepfather had been an uncle by marriage, he wasn’t a stranger. Yet, he being a stepfather to me, the college kid, was a new role for both of us, and we both had to redefine and stretch our relationship.

For most of my adult life, I’ve been both a stepson and a stepfather, and in that blend, good things have happened. I’ve grown a lot, and I’ve come to understand a lot. Now, with both my dad and my stepfather gone, and my stepson living in another state, married, and a homeowner, and working on his career, I have come to again appreciate the changes in life, and the cycles we all go through, as we move through life.

Part of me is still a kid, part of me is still the sassy, independent and challenging young adult, and part of me is the gray-haired patriarch, offering wisdom and sage advice, and trying to be a leader, an elder.

And in that mix, I find joy and contentment, and a feeling of satisfaction. Oh, some things I’ve done I look back on and feel I should have done some things differently. And, other events I look back on with pride and a sense of self satisfaction. I can’t change what has been done, but I really don’t regret most of what I’ve done as a son, a step son, a step father, and a foster dad. Now, age has given me more insight and more wisdom. Yet, I’m not going to cry over spilt milk and things not done that should have been done and things not done that should have been done. After all, that’s life.

And, all in all, what is most important in all of this is that we tell the people in our families that we really do love them and that we really do care for them, and that we want them to be happy, and to be gracious in dealing with all the challenges of life. Life can be lonely, but if we know that our family cares for us, and loves us for all our flaws and frailties, then any of us can more easily sail through the troubled waters of life, and keep our sights on our goals, and, hopefully, make some good progress in getting to where we want to go.

Today, I’m grateful for what I’ve done, and who I’ve become, and I’m also grateful for having the challenges that lie ahead. I’m probably ready for them, and more ready now that I once was. And, I know my family is behind me in all of this.

Thoughts On A Funeral

It started out with us all seated, and facing a stage where John’s portrait stood, on an easel, his bright eyes and big smile there, once again. Just the picture brought back good memories, and happy times. Then, the burly bagpiper started down the aisle, dressed in his Scottish kilt, playing Amazing Grace, as a dirge. Tears welled up in my eyes, as I watched the bagpiper slowly walk down the aisle, followed by about one hundred of John’s family.

The several hundred people sat in silence, as the last notes of the hymn echoed off the rafters. Then, the minister, John’s best friend from seminary, spoke of John’s ministry as a wedding celebrant and funeral officiant. He asked all of those in the audience who had been married by John or who had attended a funeral where he presided, to stand. About half the audience stood.

I had known John as a city manager, a community leader, and an activist. Yet, a big part of his life was ministering to others. As people spoke, I realized he had been a night chaplain at the San Francisco jail, the acting director of the San Francisco Museum of Erotic Art, a publisher of philosophy, a Vietnam war protester, and a folk singing, beer drinking theological student. He had also been a grandfather and a traveler, a fisherman, and a beach walker. Oh, he had been the beloved city manager, and the popular mayor, and had a host of other titles, positions and honors, but those seemed not so important today. Today, we celebrated his spirituality and his passion for the world.

His friend spoke of an old Scottish custom, when a great person died, to engrave on their tombstone, “Here lies all of him that could have died”. That spoke to John’s contributions to the world, and to what is really important about a person’s life on this planet.

His friend spoke of John’s changing theology, and his belief that the beach is really a church, and the ocean is really an altar. He read a Native American prayer, and we could all hear John’s voice in that reading.

In the funeral program, the family quoted Emerson:

“To laugh often and much; to win the respect of the intelligent people and the affection of children; to earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that one life has breathed easier because you live here. This is to have succeeded.”

All of these words, all of these images sank into the audience, as the entire room paid rapt attention to the speakers, and to be fully present in this event, this celebration of a life lived richly and well, a life of public service.

His friend read a number of letters, including one from the Governor and one from a secretary, and one from his wife, who related how he had ministered and comforted her when her first husband had died. Another friend spoke of John’s counsel during a hard time, and his compassion when his wife had died several years ago. His niece spoke of his kindness to her throughout her life, including memorable expeditions to the beach, to watch the sunset, and how her wedding day was so special because he officiated at the event. Her tears became our tears as she struggled through her reading.

We ended the service watching over a hundred photos of his life, accompanied by many of his favorite songs. As the crowd milled around, nibbling cookies and visiting, sharing memories of John and how he impacted our lives, I realized that today, not only did I celebrate the life of a good and inspiring man, but I came away appreciating each day in my own life, and that each day is so important. We must live our lives fully and with passion, and to express our love in every act of every day.

I walked away in silence, and tears came often on the drive home. I had lived part of my life in the presence of a great and loving man, and he had touched so many lives. Today, I am blessed, and I realize, again, that I am loved.

5/08

People's History of the United States

Here's a great book! The People's History of the United States, by Howard Zinn

Some of the history is known to me, but even areas of some familiarity are greatly enhanced by his comprehensive analysis, connections to other events, and newly discovered, or almost never reported stories.

Zinn covers and analyzes what has gone on and is now going on in our culture and our people, and his views are refreshing and stimulating. He challenges the status quo, and does it with informative and captivating information, stories, and events that the corporate media has ignored.

This is well worth your time!