Halfway to 90

Greetings All!

So come tomorrow morning I turn 45 or as I have been joking (maybe half-joking) that I will be halfway to 90.  I do not know where I came up with that line but there it is.  My friend Brad commented today, "When I turned 40, I knew I was playing the back nine."  I think he is right.

When you are a kid, birthdays mean presents, cake and fun.  When you are a teenager, every year brings another right or privilege until the big one (for some) 21.  After that, well there is the slow movement towards middle age.  I think it is fair to say that whether I like it or not, I am there.

We live in an interesting world.  We celebrate youth and take notice of when someone young does something impressive.  Just this past weekend, a 19-year-old won the John Deere Classic.  Perhaps the most famous young person was the election of John F. Kennedy as President.  When he was assassinated, he was forever frozen in time, the, "young man in the White House."  James Dean's death took on extra dimensions of iconic status because he died so damn young. 

I recall years ago reading the book, Logan's Run.  The story, set in the future, involved a world where death at 21 was required, called sleep.  If you rebelled, you were a runner.  Enter the Sandmen.  More than a police officer, a state-sanctioned executioner whose job was to kill those who ran with a weapon that caused horrific pain.  One of the characters was Ballard, someone whose time crystal in his hand did not signal his time to die.  He was the "old man" at 42, a double lifetime.  Well, I'm past even that double lifetime.

As I type this, I cannot put my finger on exactly what I feel about being halfway to 90.  Of course, I look back and think about opportunities I missed, things I did not pursue, choices made.  Then I also realize that there is no going back, no do-overs.  When you hit my age, you are likely to have someone younger than you that you report to, work for or at a minimum is a customer.  For some people, the changes in technology have pushed people from a factory job to a new type of work that is far from what they knew before.  That can be hard.  I am fortunate to have a job I enjoy.  Of course, my current supervisor is younger than me.  So was the last one.  Such is life. 

There are any number of opinions about aging out there.  "50 is the new 30!"  "Grey is great!" Blah, blah, blah.  The simple fact is tomorrow is a day that marks the beginning of my 45th year on this planet.  (And thanks, by the way, Mom and Dad.)  I am not going to worry too much about it and have every intention to enjoy the day, reflecting on my good fortune and all the wonderful people I have in my life.  I will joke about being halfway to 90 and my friends will laugh, at least at first.  However, I'd be lying to say that I will not be glad come Saturday morning to know that a birthday is a year away.  I also know this morning will be a whole lot better than other day afters in the past.  Maybe I'm growing up in other ways as well...

I also think that birthdays can be great milestones for what one wants to accomplish in the next year.  I am working on getting better at goal-setting and this is something that I feel compelled to get serious about.  After all, I'm not a kid anymore.  More to follow on this subject.

Life is what you make it.  There are countless stories of people (Col Sanders comes to mind) who did fantastic things later in life.  There are men who are released from decades in prison and go on and create positive change in the world, redeeming their past ill deeds, ill deeds of reckless youth, I might add.  I don't plan on opening a fast-food empire but I refuse to believe that I have less control over my future now than when I was 25 or 30.  Truth be told, I like my life a whole lot more now than back then.  As Brad said, I am on the back nine, but it is a real pretty course.

I'll close with a few lines from our friend Jimmy Buffett and his 1977 song, Changes in Lattitudes, Changes in Attitudes.

"Oh, yesterday's over my shoulder
So I can't look back for too long
There's just too much to see waiting in front of me
And I know that I just can't go wrong."

I think that is about the best way to approach any day, birthday or otherwise.  Thanks for reading and have a great weekend!

Best,
Jeno

Seek First to Understand

Greetings All:

Saturday evening, as we were leaving the restaurant we were having dinner, the news broke that George Zimmerman had been acquitted of charges of second-degree murder and manslaughter.  I strongly suspect that if you are reading this, you have both knowledge on and an opinion of this criminal case- specifically the outcome.

I debated whether or not to write on this subject.  I purposefully try to write about things that I find positive, be them of a trivial or serious nature.  There is plenty of "bad news" out there and even more websites/cable channels/Facebook posts to address them.  However, I am going to wade into this subject as it has been on my mind for a while.  In specific, there is the issue of what provoked the fight between Mr. Martin and Mr. Zimmerman that left Mr. Martin in the company of angels and Mr. Zimmerman acquitted in a court of law yet guilty in the court of public opinion, at least certain circuits.

I did not follow the trial.  I'd catch glimpses of it here and there, the way a traveler glances at a monitor in the airport to confirm the correct gate.  Yet I mostly tuned it out.  Perhaps it was because of work and life and other obligations.  Or maybe it was that I did not want to deal with the fact a child was dead and I am a parent.  Mr. Martin and Mr. Zimmerman's mothers both took their turn in the witness chair.  Maybe my apathy to the trial was a way to hide my uncomfortableness in acknowledging a few painful facts:

1.  Someone died; and
2.  Another person (with or without justification) caused it.

In any event, the jury came back with a verdict.  I am glad that there has been almost universal acceptance (albeit grudgingly from some) of the decision.  I was profoundly impressed with how Mr. Martin's parents were stoic in their comments about the process.  I wonder if my child was theirs if I would be so noble.  I highly doubt it.

Which leads me to this:  Dr. Steven Covey.

I am a big fan of him.  His works are great and I would argue they apply to just about anyone.  Here is link to the 5th Habit from his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People that I think is tragically on-point for this matter. 

https://www.stephencovey.com/7habits/7habits-habit5.php
 

I think this is so meaningful that I am including with this post the actual comments from Dr. Covey.  Please take a moment and read, thanks.

"Habit 5: Seek First to Understand, Then to Be Understood

Communication is the most important skill in life. You spend years learning how to read and write, and years learning how to speak. But what about listening? What training have you had that enables you to listen so you really, deeply understand another human being? Probably none, right? If you're like most people, you probably seek first to be understood; you want to get your point across. And in doing so, you may ignore the other person completely, pretend that you're listening, selectively hear only certain parts of the conversation or attentively focus on only the words being said, but miss the meaning entirely. So why does this happen? Because most people listen with the intent to reply, not to understand. You listen to yourself as you prepare in your mind what you are going to say, the questions you are going to ask, etc. You filter everything you hear through your life experiences, your frame of reference. You check what you hear against your autobiography and see how it measures up. And consequently, you decide prematurely what the other person means before he/she finishes communicating. Do any of the following sound familiar? "Oh, I know just how you feel. I felt the same way." "I had that same thing happen to me." "Let me tell you what I did in a similar situation." Because you so often listen autobiographically, you tend to respond in one of four ways: Evaluating: You judge and then either agree or disagree. Probing: You ask questions from your own frame of reference. Advising: You give counsel, advice, and solutions to problems. Interpreting: You analyze others' motives and behaviors based on your own experiences. You might be saying, "Hey, now wait a minute. I'm just trying to relate to the person by drawing on my own experiences. Is that so bad?" In some situations, autobiographical responses may be appropriate, such as when another person specifically asks for help from your point of view or when there is already a very high level of trust in the relationship" So where does that leave us? I would suggest that in light of this tragedy that we all pledge to commit to practice this habit as much as possible and with as much sincerity as possible.  I would also throw this out, for what it is worth:  There are sometimes where there is no space, no time to understand.  Napoleon is credited with the quote, "I can give you whatever you want, except time."  At the tragic, final conclusion of the confrontation of Mr. Martin and Mr. Zimmerman there was neither time, nor space to seek understanding.  If we want to first understand, then I would argue a part of understanding is to recognize when there is neither time nor space to understand and re-engage when both, or at least one, is available.  Thanks for reading and be well my friends. Best, Jeno

A Poet I Just Discovered

Greetings All:

The photo above (public domain usage claimed) is of a poet I just learned of- Octavio Paz.  As I have mentioned before, I appreciate my local public library.  One day I was in there picking up some books I had requested and I swung by the new arrivals.  One was The Poems of Octavio Paz as edited and translated by Eliot Wienberger.  I regret that despite four years of exposure to a liberal arts education at a great public university (The University of Iowa, Go Hawks!) I regret that I did not (ahem) spend a ton of time reading and a whole lot more in...other pursuits.  (If I could have double-majored in student government and fraternity I would have been Summa cum laude, alas, such is life.)  As a result, I find myself looking for opportunities to read the stuff I should have checked out years ago.  Oh well, better late than never.

I had never heard of Octavio Paz.  However, I thought anyone who could get a book of almost 600 pages of edited work had to be worth checking out.  It was.

First, a bit about Mr. Paz.  He is acknowledged as a great poet of Mexico and the world.  He was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature in 1990.  Here is the link to his acceptance speech:

http://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/literature/laureates/1990/paz-lecture.html

I just read it, albeit briefly, and was impressed with both its humility and frankness.  Here's a taste:  "Ours is the time of profane history, an irreversible and perpetually unfinished time that marches towards the future and not towards its end."

If you think he was not exactly a conservative, you'd be right.  In fact, he would likely be considered a leftist.  Born in Mexico in 1914 to a family active in journalism and politics, he gravitated to the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War.  He had an early (and likely comfortable) career in diplomacy, but resigned to protest the Mexican government's harsh repression of a student protest in 1968.  I am not going to delve much into his politics but feel I should offer this as a starting point to understand the man.  If you would like to learn more, here is a link to his bio:

http://home.wlu.edu/~barnettj/Holding/99/cstovall/newpaz.htm

As to his writing, I think it is terrific.  I suspect it reads and almost certainly sounds better in Spanish, but the English translation is great as well.  Here are a just a couple of lines that offer a glimpse into his work:

From his poem Salamandra or in English, Salamander:

"Is not beauty enough?
 I know nothing
I know what is too much
not what is enough
Ignorance is a difficult as beauty..."

(Source- from page 201 of Weinberger's book) 

Here are a couple of more lines from the same poem (p. 199, Weinberger):

"Twenty years ago Vasconcelos told me
'Devote yourself to phliosophy
It won't give you life
but it is a defense against death."

Or how about this line-

"I do not write to kill time
nor to revive it
I write that I may live and be revived."

This poem was from earlier in his career during the years 1956-1961.  The Cold War was in full swing, revolutions took place, some crushed, some successful, hope and fear stood on the same street corner of history, awaiting which bus society would pull up for each, perhaps both, to board.  Later in his life, he still wrote with passion, but perhaps aided by age and perspective, he took on a different tone.  Here is the concluding lines to Arbol Adentro or in English, A Tree Within:

"Perhaps to love is to learn
to walk through this world.
To learn to be silent
like the oak and the linden of the fable.
To learn to see.
Your glance scatters seed.
It planted a tree.
I talk
because you shake its leaves."

I am no literary poet and I make no claims to be an expert on Mr. Paz's work.  (After all, I just learned of the guy and was on vacation for a week.)  These are just my thoughts on a writer who (I think) has something to say.  I suppose I could throw out the standard line, "Oh, how I wish I had discovered him sooner..." but that would not be true.  If anything, what little maturity I have obtained since college may make his discovery more valuable now.  After all, you can buy a toddler a ten-speed bike, but all he can do with it is spin the wheels until he grows into it.  In any event, I like the guy's work and I hope you will too if you read his work. 

 I would like to close with one of the earlier lines of his Nobel address, as I believe it goes to the core of his writing:  "Grace means pardon, forgiveness, favour, benefice, inspiration; it is a form of address, a pleasing style of speaking or painting, a gesture expressing politeness, and, in short, an act that reveals spiritual goodness." (see previous citation please).  For a man who had definite, perhaps unforgiving political stances, who talked truth to power, he also had a side of gratitude.  As I read Paz I will not forget the source of his writing, his surroundings and his criticisms of the world, but also his ability to value gratitude.  I hope to read more of his works for anyone who can write like him and draw from such diverse inspirations is worth experiencing.

I am curious as to what you are reading or listening to, music, checking out online from an artistic standpoint.  As I mentioned, I am making up for lost time.  Please add a comment to this post and feel free to share it, thanks.  Have a great rest of the week and summer!

Best,
Jeno

Ben Franklin's App

Greetings All:

We recently celebrated the 4th of July, a day known as our nation's birthday and for many a (this year) four-day holiday.  It is a time to attend a parade, watch fireworks, get together with friends and family and celebrate our nation's independence.  I also think it is worth recalling that Ben Franklin not only signed the Declaration of Independence but also lended counsel to the author, Thomas Jefferson.  Franklin's mark on early American was as deep as it was wide.  He was an inventor, a civic leader, an academic, a diplomat, a radical, and perhaps above all else, a writer.  His wit was sharp and to this day, his quotes are readily stated.  I have seen (and used) this one recently:

"They who would give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety."

However, for the purpose of this blog post, I wish to focus on the following Franklin quote:

"Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing."

 

http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/b/benjamin_franklin.html 

I would argue Franklin did both.  His accomplishments are many and his writings are worth learning and sharing.  He never commanded troops in battle and was mocked in London.  Yet they LOVED him in Paris, especially the "les belle dames."  Nicely done, Ben.

Keep in mind please that he did all this without a smart phone, lap top, computer, typewriter or even a ballpoint pen.  He did it with a quill pen and ink on parchment, that's it, that was his app.  I have no doubt that he would love what Bill Gates and Steve Jobs came up with.  And yet, they never saw it, never hit "send" or downloaded "Words With Friends" or any of the other thousands of apps out there.  He had one- his brain.  Guess what?  So do we.

I am not saying that I or anyone else is on the same league with Franklin, of course not.  He was truly one of a kind.  Then again, so are you,...and me.  

I mention this for I am beginning a project that I am going to be rolling out on this blog about an idea I have for goal-setting.  As an introduction, I take my inspiration from Mr. Ben and how he used the 18th Century app, a pen.  

It worked for him and I bet it can work for us too.

Until next time, be well my friends.

Best,

Jeno

The picture above is courtesy of the web and is listed as part of the public domain.

An Ode to Vacation

Greetings All:

As I mentioned in my last post, I have been away from the blog for a while.  The last couple of posts were poems I wrote, so it has been a while since I offered up any commentary.  I suppose part of this absence was due to a lack of motivation (there is always time to do what you really want to do so I will not offer that lame excuse).  For me, part of writing is finding something that I think is worth writing about that I think/hope may be of interest to others.  I hope this topic is one that you ALL  with relate to and like...VACATION!!

I just got back from San Diego.  It was awesome.  Along with another family, we spent a glorious week there in a rented house that was very, very nice.  Now to be to completely candid, it was not perfect.  There were times when I looked at the house from the deck and in seeing the chipped paint on the windows and the railings caused me to think of the last days of Adi Amin in exile.  Still, it was a great place.

San Diego has a lot going for it.  For openers, there is this thing called...an ocean.  For those of us who have grown up and/or have spent time in the Midwest, oceans are not exactly close.  Some of us have spent some time in a place with plenty of sand, but not much (or none) surf.  This place has both. 

Of course, the water is not exactly like the Caribbean Sea.  In fact, it is damn cold.  At one point during one of our outings to the ocean, I felt like I was going through SEAL training.  Of course, my youngest daughter was thrilled to be in the water and would have stayed all day.  Still, once you're in the water, you might as well enjoy it.  After all, back home there is no water.

San Diego also has a vast number of attractions.  The Zoo is without question, a great place to spend the day.  The fact that it is only one of only four zoos in the U.S. with Pandas.  We got to see them for about a minute and it might (sadly) be a once in a lifetime experience. 

So notwithstanding that you spend a day traveling both ways, it was a great, great trip.  Vacation was wonderful.  I did not think about work and whatever awaits tomorrow in the inbox, well, it's not milk, it did not, nor will not go bad.  Of course, coming back involves grass needing to be cut, clothes to be washed and the various other things that come with being gone for a week.  It is so worth it.

My point with this blog entry is the following:  Take vacations!  Of course, do not max out a credit card on a trip you cannot afford.  At the same time, remember that cemeteries are full of irreplaceable people.  There is always something that may seem urgent but is not that important.  With a bit of planning, you can not only pay for the trip in advance but also let your co-workers and boss know that you are going and will be back in a week, or two.

This is an ode to vacation.  I am glad I went.

All the best,
Jeno

A 4th of July Poem

Greetings All:

I hope the summer is treating you well.  I've been away from the blog for now three weeks and I plan to get back to it on a more regular basis.  In the meantime, here is a poem I wrote this morning.  Happy 4th of July everyone!

Greetings All:

I've been away from the blog for now three weeks and like to think I have a fairly good excuse.  Come this weekend, I plan to get back to it regularly.  In the meantime, here's a poem for the 4th of July.  Happy birthday America!

The Pen Trumped the Crown


One July years in our past;
When some doubted our cause would last;
Jefferson put down with ink;
Words that caused the world to think.

To think that freedom was worth the fight;
To risk the wrath of King George's might;
To march into walls of screaming lead;
Stepping forward past the wounded and dead.

So what again was this fight about?
What caused Patrick Henry to shout?
Was it just about paying a tax?
Or had they been pushed to to the max?
Tired of being told how to live;
Of rights the King would not give.
So on this day they said, "No more!"
We're done waiting for fairness to reach this shore.
We will not ask for our rights.
We may lose, but we'll fight.

And fight they did for many years;
Through mud and loss and death and tears.
Yet there was no quit, the resolve was strong;
And showed the world we did belong.

To this world as a nation free;
Where only ambition limits what one can be;
As a place where a person can pray;
Without fear of being dragged away.
Where the majority rules, but not as an enraged mob;
Where the poorest has the same rights as a Steve Jobs.

We are not perfect, there is still work to do;
To make the ideas of the Declaration for all true;
But no nation has moved so far, so fast;
To achieve freedom and make it last.

So on this day, let the fireworks fly;
Alighting bright the night sky;
Turn on the grill and fly your flag;
Watch the kids play while grandparents point and brag;
Go to the parade and have fun;
Just take a moment to recall how it all begun.

When a group of patriots did declare;
They would be free and did not care;
What the cost, what the price;
Knowing only full commitment would suffice.
In the end, they carried the day;
Freedom was won, the Redcoats sailed away.

Happy birthday America, enjoy this day!
But let's also pledge to not let our Founders' down;
Keeping the pledge that it true-the pen is mightier than the crown!

Be well my friends (and safe this holiday weekend!)

Jeno

An Army Born

Greetings All:

Although I have a couple of posts in the hopper (the draft folder I am learning is becoming like the junk drawer in the kitchen, things get put in it here that I just know I will want to use again but am not sure when.)  In any event, I do have a couple of things lined up and will get them out sooner or later.

I hope summer is treating you well and it is (finally) starting to dry out in Iowa.  Summer officially starts in about a week yet we saw the first fire fly (lightning bug) a couple of nights back, so as far as I am concerned, summer is here.

On a more serious note, today is both Flag Day and the birthday of the U.S. Army.  As I mentioned on my Facebook wall, the Army is an institution that I do love.  And yet, like anything that matters, it is complex, complicated.  It is not a person.  However, it is made up of people, run by people, admired by some people (many people) and cursed by others (perhaps more than I want to admit).  In any event, those are comments for another day.  For now, here is a poem I wrote.  I fully recognize that I am, at best, a bar stool poet.  to that end, here's some amateur poetry about that organization who is 238 today.  Enjoy.

An Army Born

A musket cracks on an April morn;

A ball of lead marks a revolution born;

England awakes with a jolt;

The colonists are in revolt.

King George smirks at the sight;

Drunk in confidence of his might;

His Redcoats will put this rabble down;

And bend their knees to his crown.

Yet something changed on this day;

A new force of freedom joined the fray;

A united force, thirteen became one;

Now the fight was truly begun.

With Washington riding ahead;

His Soldiers followed, willingly led;

June 14^th our Army was born;

An oath to freedom all were sworn.

The early days were full of strife;

Retreat was often played by drum and fife;

Victory was hard to find;

Yet our Army continued the grind.

Through the cold, through the grief;

Our Army fought on in certain belief;

That they could fight and they could win;

Much to “his Majesty’s” chagrin.

Then at Yorktown, everything changed;

Washington’s plan was all arranged;

The British were trapped against the sea;

With the French Navy’s help, we claimed victory.

From that time until now;

The Army has kept its solemn vow;

To defend our nation night or day;

Always ready for the call into harm’s way.

Our Army is our nation’s strength

It keeps tyranny at arm’s length;

Along with others who serve;

Our way of live is preserved.

So cut the cake and sing the song;

Knowing that your Army goes rolling along!

This poem is dedicated to Sergeant Walter B. Holcomb, U.S. Army, Pacific Theater, World War II.

Be well my friends.

Jeno