The God of Bargains

The poster for PVHS's production of Amadeus, permission granted to re-publish this image.

Greetings All:

First, a bit of housekeeping:  This is one of (ahem) a "number" of blog posts in draft form that I intended to publish a while ago.  I started writing this over a month ago.  Needless to say, it has languished.  

Part of the reason is that I've undertaken a new professional pursuit and that has consumed a fair amount of my time.  I'll write about that subject later.  The other reason is that I am writing less than I did last year.  It is not that I am losing interest in this hobby.  I assure you, that is not the case.  If anything, I am making a concerted effort to be a bit more focused in my writing.  I'll leave it to you to decide how I'm doing.

So back to this post's topic.  Last month, we experienced a bit of culture on a Saturday.  After dinner at a nice Italian Restaurant, a few of us headed up to Pleasant Valley High School (PVHS) to watch the drama department's production of Peter Shaffer's play, Amadeus.   

Amadeus is one of my favorite plays.  When I was in high school, I did a dramatic interpretation scene from the play.  I did a bit of research and learned that in the original Broadway version Ian McKellen and Tim Curry as the lead roles.  Holy cow, Batman, Gandalf and Frank-N-Furter (Rocky Horror Picture Show) on the same stage.  Oh, and throw into the mix Jane Semour as, Constanze, Mozart's wife, what a cast.

I even succumbed to the rare impulse buy urge and bought the playbill from the show.  I was going to post a few photos but thought better of it as trying to claim "fair usage" is kind of like walking on early March ice.  You can do it, but you might get wet.

Around 1985, the play made it to the big screen.  It won a bunch of awards (deservedly so.  I have a link from YouTube below if you want to get a flavor of the movie...and the central part of the story.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCB_OcJcDYY 

As far as the PVHS production was concerned, I thoroughly enjoyed it.  While my oldest daughter was not in the show, she helped out behind the scenes with hair and make-up.  I thought this group of high school actors took on an incredibly challenging play and made it there own.  This show is not a laugh out loud slapstick comedy.  It is dark.

How dark you might ask?  Well, how about these elements:  Death, possibly murder, betrayal, jealousy, deceit, lust, adultery, and I am sure other vices I am missing.  I've got a couple of links below to the play if you'd like more information.

For the purposes of this post, here's the salient fact:  It is a story of rage, rage against God.

The play is set in the twilight of the Eighteenth Century.  Antonio Salieri is a composer and a pretty good one at that.  He tells the audience in one of many monologues how he pledges his loyalty and strict obedience to God in exchange for fame.  The line Salieri says that stuck with me throughout the show is when he referred to, "...the God of bargains."

I did not know one could cut a deal with God.  

So without giving away too terribly much of the story, Mozart shows up in Vienna full of talent.  Unfortunately, he was the "fill in the blank" hedonistic rock star of his time.  He was brilliant.  Everyone knew that...especially him.  And that hubris wore thin on a lot of folks, especially Salieri.  He is at first disgusted at how Mozart's talent was given so freely by God to such an ungrateful, obscene actor.  Then the disgust turns to rage when he sees to the full extent God's gift was given.

So much so that Salieri actually declares war on God.  He vows to destroy Mozart to "punish" God.  I know, it sounds crazy, but it's not.  In Salieri's twisted mind, it all makes perfect sense.  After all, God broke a bargain.  Now it was time for retribution.

What I find fascinating about this story is how well crafted it is.  Shaffer did his homework about this era and about the importance religion played at this time.  Issues such as redemption and damnation were front and center...along with all those glorious hymns.  

The tragedy for me with this show, aside from SPOILER ALERT Mozart's death is that Salieri also dies.  He rots away from the inside.  He's drinking toxic water.  The more he drinks, the more poison he takes in, with the thirst remaining.

I might be reading way too much into this story.  And it is, a story.
I have a link to a story from The Guardian that casts doubt on the premise that makes this play so good. 

So let's set aside Saleri's complicity in Mozart's death.  Let's instead look at the emotional suicide he commits not by his rage at God but for his his lack of gratitude for his own gifts and talents.  It was this lack of gratitude that was his undoing, not Mozart's.

Gratitude.  It's one of those words that we hear a lot but describing it can be a challenge.  Here's a definition from the web that works pretty well for me:

grat·i·tude

/ˈɡradəˌt(y)o͞od/

noun

1. the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.

synonyms:

gratefulness, thankfulness, thanks, appreciation;

Elie Wissel, the Nobel Laurette and Holocaust survivor wrote this gem:   "When I person does not have gratitude, something is missing in his or her humanity."  

Then there is this one from the Icon herself:

“Be thankful for what you have; you’ll end up having more. If you concentrate on what you don’t have, you will never, ever have enough.”
– Oprah Winfrey

So had Salieri been, as Shaffer muses, Mozart's murderer, he could have also been his savior.  He could have said to God, "I thought you had punished me.  I was wrong.  Mozart's music is a gift to the world and he is a gift to me.  I will not destroy him, shoving him in front of the speeding carriage of poverty.  I will pay for fire and food and light and hope.  I will not curse his talent, I will cherish it.  His success does not diminish mine.  If anything, he will inspire me to create even better music."
  
Had he done this, what other music would we have today?  Both that of Mozart's and Salieri's.  

If you're a person of faith, then you likely accept the premise God has given us all free will.  With free will comes both the right and obligation to yes, accept our circumstances as they are.  However, we also have the ability to be grateful for what we have.  In that gratitude, God has given us a truly rare and wonderful gift.

That might be the greatest bargain one could strike.  
 
Be well my friends,
Jeno

Sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amadeus

http://www.dailyscript.com/scripts/amadeus.html

http://www.theguardian.com/music/2003/dec/19/classicalmusicandopera.italy 

http://search.aol.com/aol/search?enabled_terms=&s_it=comsearch&q=definition+of+gratitude&s_chn=prt_aol20

Reflections on March Madness

A Basketball, photo courtesy of Peter Griffin, public domain, full online cite below in sources.

Greetings All:

For the past few days, the American sports world's center of gravity has been the NCAA Division I Men's Basketball Tournament.   This tournament has been dubbed, "March Madness."  The title comes from the flurry of games played, the last-second heroics, the upsets, the favorites who beat back a challenge from some upstart team and the length of it.  (It covers three weeks.)  It also is a source of profound interest for many.   There are those who love basketball and follow this tournament the way a commodities trader follows the fluctuations in wheat prices.  Even those who might only have a fleeting interest in the tournament get involved.

Largely driving this interest is the process of the tournament.  The seeding, or selecting of who plays who when and where, separates this sporting event from others.  This process is laid out in a bracket.  Everyone knows who is in the tourney, who's favored and by how much.  Everyone starts out at the same spot, a clean bracket and the chance to predict who will win it all. 

Millions of people will fill out brackets, trying to predict who will win.  One such prediction is listed below:

President Obama's picks for the 2015 NCAA Tournament.  Public domain claimed, full cite below.

Yup, that is POTUS' bracket.  His bracket is pretty much shot, as is mine.  I had our intrastate rival Iowa State making it all the way to the championship game.  I still have Wisconsin winning the whole thing, so I suppose there is some potential redemption for me.  Oh well, I cannot be too upset with myself as I took all of five minutes to make my picks.  I suspect there are other folks who (ahem) have a lot more time and emotion invested in this endeavor.

And this endeavor is not left at home or the sports bar.  Oh no, it finds its way into work.  I have a link to an article below that discusses the cost of March Madness to the workplace:  

"It is an annual tradition that has become woven into the fabric the American workplace and society at large. However, there is a cost in terms of lost wages paid to distracted and unproductive workers, and, this year, the cost could reach as high as $1.9 billion, according to calculations by global outplacement firm Challenger, Gray & Christmas, Inc."

Interestingly, this same source does not encourage employers to ban such activity, despite the cost.  John Challenger (of the company who is cited in this article, full internet citation below) argues:

“This tournament and the betting and bracket-building that come with it are ingrained in the national fabric. Trying to stop it would be like trying to stop a freight train. When even the president finds time to fill out a bracket, an employer would be hard pressed to come up with a legitimate reason to clamp down on March Madness activities,...”  

It is an annual tradition that has become woven into the fabric the American workplace and society at large. However, there is a cost in terms of lost wages paid to distracted and unproductive workers, and, this year, the cost could reach as high as $1.9 billion, according to calculations by global outplacement firm Challenger, Gray & Christmas, Inc. - See more at: http://www.challengergray.com/press/press-releases/its-march-madness-years-madness-could-cost-19b#sthash.H9oMmbRC.dpuf

Then there is the pure "fandom" emotion that comes with this tournament.  I suspect there are alums from The University of Alabama at Birmingham (UAB) who are catching up after years of lost contact just to talk about their epic victory over Iowa State on Thursday.  On the other side of the emotional coin are the fans whose teams lost.  I saw a video clip of a member of the Villanova pep band crying as she played for the last time that year.  She surely thought there was at least one more road trip in her team's future.  Not this year.

It stinks when your team loses.  As I watched Iowa lose to a Gonzaga team last evening, I ended up cleaning our bedroom, just so I was not fully focused on the all-but-certain outcome.  I do not begrudge the 'Zaga fans or team for their celebration.  They are a great team and it is expected that they will win, perhaps even a trip to the promised land that is "The Final Four."  Still, it stung to watch my team be eliminated.  If you win, you go on.  If you lose, you go home.  Iowa's going home.  Still, I'm proud of the effort these young men and their coaching staff displayed this season.

And there's next season, there is always next season.  Well, for most of us at least.

the cost could reach as high as $1.9 billion, according to calculations by global outplacement firm Challenger, Gray & Christmas, Inc. - See more at: http://www.challengergray.com/press/press-releases/its-march-madness-years-madness-could-cost-19b#sthash.H9oMmbRC.dpuf

On Friday, I found myself in the small Iowa town of Indianola.  It was a brief stop, so it was completely by chance I saw the sign below.  I happened to be pumping gas across from the park where this sign is located.

The memorial to the late Chris Street, Indianola, Iowa, photo by J. Berta

For those of you who do not know who Chris Street was, here is a brief background.  He was an incredibly talented basketball player who died tragically in a car accident 1993.  I have a couple of links to the story in the sources.  

His coach, Dr. Tom Davis, summed up Chris' passing and his legacy this way:  "Chris represented all that is good about the Midwest and the state of Iowa. He was open, caring, honest, loving and lived life to the fullest every day.”

It is photos like this that remind me that this tournament is, at the end of the day, a series of games.  While some teams are "one and done," the players will get to engage in other pursuits.  As much as I am saddened my beloved Iowa Hawkeyes are done this year, I know they will play again.  I just wish I could have seen Chris Street play again.  Sadly, that is not going to happen.

It kind of puts this subject into perspective, at least for me.
Be well my friends (and go Wisconsin!) 

Jeno

Sources:

Photo posted above, Peter Griffin, http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=63587&picture=basketball-cover

https://www.whitehouse.gov/blog/2015/03/17/president-obamas-bracket-2015-ncaa-mens-basketball-tournament

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/NCAA_Men%27s_Division_I_Basketball_Tournament

http://freebracketchallenge.1.mayhem.cbssports.com/

http://www.challengergray.com/press/press-releases/its-march-madness-years-madness-could-cost-19b

http://www.dailyiowan.com/2012/12/10/Sports/31234.html

http://collegebasketballtalk.nbcsports.com/2013/01/21/the-ncaa-denied-iowas-request-to-wear-chris-street-jersey-on-saturday/

http://archive.hawkcentral.com/2012/04/25/matt-gatens-walks-in-chris-streets-footsteps/

Steps Taken

Greetings All:

I have been a bit AWOL from my blog over the last two weeks.  I have been taking classes at night for the last three weeks and have not had the motivation to publish any posts.  (I have several in the works, but nothing completed, until now.)

Yesterday was "The Grand Parade" in Davenport.  Like many cities, we have a St. Patrick's Day parade.  However, we are the only place that has a bi-state parade.  Thanks to our proximity to the Mississippi River and a robust group of Irish (and Irish for a day) residents of the cities that hug the river, we have a two-city, two-state parade.  (Although I live in Bettendorf now, Davenport is my hometown and for parade purposes, this parade belongs to all of us.)  I am particularly proud that our area came in third for American cities that celebrate St. Patrick's Day.  I think (bias acknowledged) we've earned this recognition.

St. Patrick's Day is a celebration of all things Irish.  The fact that it coincides with the arrival of spring makes it even better.  This is a fun event.  Lots of folks participate and from what I saw from my vantage point was a group of well-behaved folks.  (And yes, I did happen to see a one or maybe two people enjoying what might have been an adult beverage.)

It might be hard to believe that there was a time in this nation when being Irish was not something non-Irish would celebrate.  There was plenty of discrimination.  Some did not like the Irish for religious reasons.  Others viewed them as lazy or habitual drinkers.  Still others viewed their large families and larger clans as something to be feared.  The sign below is one that was sadly all too common at one time in our nation.  

A sign from the past, date late 19th/early 20th century, public domain

So as my youngest daughter and I watched the parade, I felt a surge of pride go through me when I saw so many people enjoying the day.  My daughter was more concerned with candy and beads.  Fair enough.  After all, she's only eight.  In time she will learn about her heritage inherited from me through my Mom, Catherine Bridget O'Neill Berta.  When she does, I hope she will think, at least briefly, of the statute in the picture opening this blog.

I was coming back from court the other day and I stopped to take a picture of it.  I have a link to the St. Patrick's Society's website that gives some history of it.  Here's what I see when I look it.

I see a family of Irish immigrants arriving in a new land.  A place of hope and promise, yet also one of struggle.  One where not everyone would be welcoming, more likely hostile.  I see a woman grieving for what was left behind.  I see a man determined to break free from the poverty, hunger, and near-slavery that was his life and that of his fathers.  I see a child, full of wonder at this new place.  If she only knew what hardships awaited.  

They, this family, are walking, moving forward, taking steps.  It was their courage to take these steps.  Steps that began with boarding a steerage ship (called coffin ships by some for those who died on a rough passage).  Steps that continued through Ellis Island or other points of entry.  Steps that brought them through their first winter and the snow that came with it.  Steps that caused them to climb high into the tenements where they lived, if you could call it that.  

They took other steps.  They stepped on ladders as flames singed their face as fire-fighters.  They stepped together first on a parade field and then on a battlefield as members of their adopted country's army.  They stepped across a platform to receive degrees as college graduates.  They stepped across the foyer of small homes bought with savings and paid for by countless hours worked in the factories and mills.  For about two centuries, they Irish came, and they kept stepping forward.

For many Irish the biggest step was when a man stepped forward to a microphone on a bitterly cold day, January 20, 1961, to be precise.  He was there to give a speech.  It was hailed as one of the greatest speeches in American history, remembered largely for these immortal words, "Ask not what your country can do for you.  Ask what you can do for your country."  That man was John F. Kennedy, American's first President of Irish decent.    How far had a people come.  How far indeed.

As the parade concluded on Saturday, I thought of all the people walking that day.  I cannot help but conclude that none of this would have been possible had simple, poor, brave, dignified, scared, hopeful, loving, angry, generous, brawling, artistic people had not taken their steps those many years ago.

A bheith go maith le mo chairde,
Jeno

Sources:

https://blog.niche.com/portfolio_item/best-cities-celebrate-st-patricks-day/   

http://stpatsqc.com/

http://www.bartleby.com/124/pres56.html

The True Cost of a Watch

A photo of fake Rolex watches, from Wikipedia, public domain, full citation below in the sources.

Greetings All:

The other day, I did something I had not done before, I posted a "Throw-back Thursday, or TBT" photo on Facebook.  It was of my wife and I at our wedding reception w-a-y back in 1997.  That was a fun night.  Held at our local Elks Lodge, with Dwyer and Michaels, DJs extraordinaire, spinning tunes, it was a great time.  Here's the photo, complete with a speaker photo-bomb:

Dawn and I at our wedding reception, July 19, 1997.  Photo by J. Berta

As I looked at the photo, I was struck with a couple of things.  The obvious, that we're both a few years' older.  Second, that this is "Exhibit A" that men, in fact, do gain weight as they age.  Then I noticed what I was wearing on my wrist.

It's kind of hard to see in the photo but I recall exact what it is.  It's a fake Rolex.  Now, before I go any further, I should say that to the best of my knowledge, the purchasing of a conterfeit Rolex is not, per se illegal.  I've got a link to a NYT's story that basically says, "It's OK to buy, just not sell such items.  The story went on to say that Customs will even let you bring back into the country one such item.

Also, as this was almost 18 years ago, any statutes of limitations would have run.  So my sporting of my "not real Rolex" was not criminal.  

As I recall, Dawn and our friends (names redacted) were purchased from a guy with a briefcase near the Statute of Liberty in New York a few days before we got married.  I think it cost me $20.00 or $40.00, cash, of course.  There was something wonderfully "New York" about the whole experience.

So back to Iowa I went with my shiny yet utterly unauthentic Rolex.  I wore it pretty much everywhere and truth be told, it kept pretty good time...for a while.  Yet as was to be expected, it died.  I think I kept it around for a bit and then it ended up in some drawer and then at some point during some move it got thrown out.  

So why did I buy it?  Part of it was a joke, "Hey look my 'Rolex' from New York City, see how it ticks, ha ha ha."  However, as I look back on it, there was more to it.  I think I liked the idea of the illusion of wearing a Rolex and the status, albeit fraudulent, it brought.

Here's a case in point.  Back then, I was a court-appointed defense attorney.  I never represented anyone charged with anything truly heinous, but on occasion I did have to visit clients residing temporarily at the Scott County Jail.  Shortly after we returned from our wedding in New Jersey, I got the call to meet a new client at the jail.  As I recall he was a complete gentlemen (to me) and seemed to be genuinely appreciatively of my advice.  As we were wrapping up our conference, he commented on my watch, inquiring, "Is that a ROLEX?!?"  

I smiled, looked at it and said, "That's what it says."

For whatever reason, he seemed pleased, perhaps even a bit relieved that his lawyer was wearing a purported expensive watch.  If that's not a sad commentary on our legal system, I don't know what is.

This of course reminds me of a lawyer joke.  A busy attorney was often late for court.  One time, an exasperated judge said to him as he hustled into court, "Counselor, you're late!  What does your watch say?"

The attorney replied, "Rolex, your Honor."

As I mentioned, a sad state of affairs of our legal system.

I do own a few watches.  I have a Swiss Army one that I received for Christmas in 1999 that still works great.  My Mom-in-Law got me a very nice Fossil I wear about once a week.  My Grandfather's Bulova is sitting in a safety deposit box as I do not want ANYTHING to happen to it.  

Then there's the one in the photo below...

This was a gift from my friends Brian and Sandy after a trip to Vegas.  I am on my second battery with it and needless to say, I love it.  Something this special should warrant special occasions.  The last time I wore it was for the Make-A-Wish gala a few weeks' back.  It has also seen service at the last few military balls we've attended.  And, why yes, I do enjoy showing it off now and then.  It gets a good laugh.  What's wrong with that at a party?

Let's back up a bit to around the time I obtained my "Rolex."  A book came out entitled, The Millionaire Next Door.  It was written by a couple of economists who were on a quest to find the typical millionaire in America.  They thought they would find the doctors, lawyers, bankers, executives, the country-club set.  Nope.  Instead, they found mostly small business owners doing perceived unseemly tasks for the financial elite of America.  

Here is one fact that I recall from reading the book that the authors, Thomas J. Stanley, PhD & William D. Danko, PhD, mentioned:

"We know from our surveys that the majority of millionaires never spent even one-tenth of $5,000 for a watch." (Citation to book below in the sources.)

So here I was, a young lawyer, flashing a fake Rolex on my wrist, attempting to act the part of a big-shot.  (It's a role I've reprised more than once, I must confess.)  The irony was the folks were already were big shots could care less about such things.  Their watches were simple, functional time pieces.  These "new" millionaires knew both the effective cost of such watches and had far better things to do with their money.

I'm not saying that this book had some huge, life-changing effect on me.  After all, I had to Google it to find the above-stated quote.  I will say that I have never felt the need to need or want a Rolex, fake or otherwise.  It's just not worth the money.  Besides, I've got plenty of cool time pieces to wear AND they are all real!

So yes, watches, like most material things, have costs.  Some are inexpensive, some are not.  Some watches can cost their owners a whole lot more than money.  Here's Exhibit A:
 
Recently, the sentencing for the former Governor of Virginia, Bob McDonald, and his wife Maureen, was held in a Federal courtroom.  Both were convicted of a number of crimes.  Here's how The Washington Post reported the story:

"The sentence brings to a close a stunning narrative of politics, greed and family drama that reached a climax in September when McDonnell and his wife, Maureen, were convicted of public corruption. A jury found unanimously that the couple used the governor’s office to help Jonnie R. Williams Sr., a wealthy dietary supplement company executive, advance his business interests and that, in exchange, Williams gave the McDonnells $177,000 in loans and gifts." (The full citation to this story is listed below in sources.)

177 large,...wow, that is a lot of purchased influence.  Oh, and what was one of the items involved...a $6500.00 Rolex watch.  Mrs. M gave the Guv this watch for Christmas one year from funds not coming from the McDonald's checking account.

Both the Guv and his wife will be spending some time as guests of the Federal Bureau of Prisons.  Even though I am a Democrat, this story is a shame.  I've got a couple of links to the story for those of you who either missed it or would like to re-visit it.  

A couple of points about this sad tale.  First, I like how former Virginia Governor Doug Wilder, a Democrat, pushed back against the prosecutor at sentencing.  He reminded everyone how the guy who offered the bribes walked away free.  The prosecutors decided they'd gladly give immunity to a businessman to bag a politician.  Second, I think it is sad that someone who had such potential to lead is now done.  He succumbed to temptation.  The cost to his freedom is high.  Yet that is nothing compared to the cost to his reputation.  

In this story, there is plenty of juicy info about how the Governor's wife initiated this whole sordid affair.  I'm not going to dump on her, as she's off to prison herself.  I hold politicians to a higher standard.  (I'll pause for snickering.)  As Judge Spencer said: "While Mrs. McDonnell may have allowed the serpent into the mansion, the governor knowingly let him into his personal and business affairs." (The Washington Post, same cite as stated previously.)  

Here's the kicker for me.  Governor McDonald was lauded at sentencing as a person who served others.  Even Judge Spencer was impressed by this record, particularly his Army service.  And yet, at the end of the day, he had to impose prison time.  It was a fair sentence.  Far less time than the sentencing guidelines called for, yet not the probation and community service the defense pleaded for.

From what I have heard about Governor McDonald, he governed well and was fairly to very well respected.  Prior to this thing blowing up in his face, he was talked up as a potential Presidential candidate.  Now, that's all done.  No need to check the primary and caucus calendar now.    

In some ways, very painful ways, the true cost of that Rolex watch was far more than $6500.00.  
 
Be well my friends,
Jeno

Sources:

Opening photo, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Rolex_Fakes.jpg

http://bucks.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/28/the-legality-of-buying-knockoffs/?_r=0

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/998.The_Millionaire_Next_Door

http://www.nytimes.com/books/first/s/stanley-millionaire.html

http://www.richmond.com/news/virginia/government-politics/article_834c721c-23c0-11e4-b630-001a4bcf6878.html

http://www.washingtonpost.com/local/virginia-politics/robert-f-mcdonnell-sentenced-to-two-years-in-prison-in-corruption-case/2015/01/06/e51520ca-9049-11e4-ba53-a477d66580ed_story.html

See A Little Light

Some of the Stain Glass Windows at John V, Bettendorf, Iowa, photo by J. Berta.

Greetings All:

Lent began Wednesday.  As I type this, I'm both pleased and surprise to report I've made it through two of the "no meat" days.  Usually, I'm off the wagon by this point.  Before I plunge into the topic at hand, I feel compelled to clarify I'm not a particularly observant Catholic.  In fact, I'll go so far as to say I'm confident I shall never win the following, in this order:

1.  The Tour de France; and
2.  An award for consecutive Mass attendance.

So it was with a bit of surprise that I found myself at Ash Wednesday Mass, bright and (certainly) early that morning.  (There is a back-story to why I was there and I'll get into that in a possibly later blog post.)  Yet there I was, at St. John Vianney's Church.  I usually attend Mass (when I go, as mentioned above) with my Dad at our home parish of Our Lady of Victory.  That is about 20 minutes away and due to other scheduling conflicts, making it over there was not going to happen.  So, off to St. John's I went.  

St. John Vianney's is a beautiful church.  It was built late 60s/early 70s and has that look of a newer church.  It is not trying to be something it is not- i.e. some Gothic cathedral.  Instead, it is its own place.  I could tell by looking around at the gathered faithful this is a place of spiritual and emotional refuge for many.  (I should also add physical as it was damn near zero degrees that morning.)

I have put a link to this church's website below if you'd like to check it out, it is a wonderful place.  More significant to me is their mission of "active social justice."  It this world and at this time, we need all of that we can get.  

So for those of you reading this who may not be Catholic or of a similar Christian faith that observes this event, you might be thinking, "Jeno, what's Ash Wednesday?"

Fair question, here's an answer.

Ash Wednesday begins the period of 40 days leading up to Easter.  It is a time of reflection and for some, sacrifice.  I've got a link to Ash Wednesday below if you'd like to learn more (or perhaps what you've forgotten for fellow almost-lapsed Catholics like me.)  

In any event, Lent's begun.  And for the first time since 2009, I was there when it kicked off.  I was glad I was there.  I might not be there for another Lent for a while, maybe never.  Yet I was glad I was there for this one.

I do not want to discount the significance of the Ash Wednesday Mass or any celebration of the Mass for that matter.  My Dad goes to Mass everyday.  He's not alone.  There are, I suspect, millions of people attend Mass regularly, certainly weekly.  So I do not want to mock, trivialize, or (the worst offense) condemn with faint praise the event of Mass.  For many people, attending Mass matters more than just about anything.  Just because I am not one doesn't mean I cannot appreciate this priority.

So back to Wednesday's Mass.  I am sitting there observing the service while not deeply into it.  I was sitting in the back and could see the windows pictured in the photo posted above.  It was then that I saw the sunlight hit the stained-glass.  It first crept across the left side of the window, like water spilled on a floor.  Then the entire window was illuminated with a glow that gave birth to a brilliant brightness.  The colored glass dazzled, as if it was dancing with the sun with the offertory prayers providing the rhythm.  

It was pretty cool.

It also caused me to recall a picture of a stained glass window I had seen on line a while back.  I've got a picture of it posted here:

A stained glass window of the Catholic Saint Fr. Maximilian Kolbe, public domain/fair use claimed, from Wikipedia, full cite listed below in the credits.

This is the image of the Catholic priest Fr. Maximilian Kolbe.  I've got some links below.  He was a Polish Priest who perished in the Holocaust.  He died when he volunteered to take the place of a prisoner who had been randomly condemned to death by starvation and dehydration.  Aside from being burned at the stake, I cannot think of a worse way to die.  

From what I read, Fr. Kolbe faced his death with dignity and a stoic resolve.  He accepted his fate.  Oh and the man he swapped places with, he survived the war.  

I wonder how he could have faced such a horrific, brutal death in such a way.  Science tells us that the body needs food and especially water to live, to function.  Yet Fr. Kolbe lived.  As the information posted below states, the Nazis killed him with poison to clear out the cell.  He must have reached a point where he neither feared death nor felt his suffering.  He knew what was on the other side for him.  I wonder if in his cell he saw each day's sunrise as not another day of suffering but a future promise of what awaited him. 

Light and darkness are a central part of our lives.  The sun rises, it sets.  The brutal cold of the winter eventually, grudgingly yields to spring.  It can be a hard transition.  Many of us are sick of winter and wondering when this ugly cold will break.

I'm ready for spring as well.  I cannot wait until it is warm enough to run outside, to have grass to cut.  In the meantime, I'll take what I can get, even if that is a bit of bright light early on a bitterly cold winter morning at the beginning of Lent.

Back in 1989, Bob Mould released his Workbook album.  One of my favorite songs is "See a Little Light."  Here's a sample of the lyrics:


"I see a little light, I know you will
I can see it in your eyes, I know you still care
I see a little light, I know you will
I can see it in your eyes, I know you still care..."

It is a terrific song.  Here's a link that I'm going to insert both here and the credits of one of my favorite performances of this tune.  It deserves "marque" billing.  (Yup, it's that good, IMHO)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vz8FaFNMi6w

In a way, it's a heartbreak song.  In another, it's a promise of something better that awaits.  I cannot image how Fr. Kolbe endured his most unjust fate with such grace.  I can only conclude he saw his suffering as a mere mortal inconvenience on his way to eternity.  He saw every sunrise as God's way of saying, "I have not forgotten about you, my Son,...and I love you."

As I conclude this blog post, I still think about the wonder of the sun hitting the window right when I was sitting in front of it.  Science will share with me a series of facts that make it a daily event.  All true, no quarrel from me.  However, science cannot account for me sitting where I did, when I did.  Science cannot account for me happening to look up when I did (and NO, I was not on my iPhone at Mass, I had it on airplane mode) to see the light hit the window.

It was a little light at first.  Then it grew into something more.  I'm glad I was there to see the whole thing.  

As to anything else from this experience, that's all I've got.  You'll need to talk to someone with a much better G.P.A. than me to get more out of the experience.  If you do, please let me know what you learn.  I'd be grateful to know.

In the meantime, I'm happy with the little light I saw on that cold morning a few days ago.

Be well my friends and R.I.P. Fr. Kolbe,
Jeno

Sources:

https://www.stjohnvianneybettendorf.org/

http://catholicexchange.com/story-ash-wednesday#at_pco=smlwn-1.0&at_si=54e72734d7a53c29&at_ab=per-4&at_pos=0&at_tot=1

http://www.americanvisionwindows.com/the-history-of-stained-glass-windows.php

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maximilian_Kolbe#mediaviewer/File:Kolbe-szombathely.jpg 

"Kolbe-szombathely" by Primaryspace - Own work. Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons - http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kolbe-szombathely.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Kolbe-szombathely.jpg

http://catholicexchange.com/st-maximilian-kolbe-priest-and-martyr

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dncBt7PE3OQ 

Read more: Bob Mould - See A Little Light Lyrics | MetroLyrics   

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vz8FaFNMi6w (March 7, 2014 published date on YouTube, standard YouTube License and fair use specifically claimed for this post.)
 

Honest Abe Indeed

President Abraham Lincoln, 1865, public domain/fair use claimed, full cite below in sources

Greetings All:

This past week marked the 206th birthday of our 16th President, Abraham Lincoln.  Lincoln is clearly one of our better known Presidents.  His image is on the penny and the five-dollar bill.  His monument is one of the best known in Washington, D.C. and his "Gettysburg Address" is one of the most famous oratorical works in American history.  His life was cut short when an actor turned assassin, John Wilkes Booth, gunned him down at the end of The Civil War.  

Lincoln was not (ahem) universally loved as President.  The South, of course, despised him enough to rebel.  That's not a surprise.  What did surprise me was the both the breath and depth of visceral anger there was to him in the North.  Some thought him a tyrant, others a wild-eyed abolitionist.  Meanwhile, the actual abolitionists viewed him with disdain, as nothing more than a spineless politician.  I've got a number of links below to Lincoln's life and the circumstances that gave rise to the lack of universal affection for him.

Another surprise for me was that Lincoln likely suffered from mental illness.  He referred to it as melancholy.  There has been significant work on this subject and I have some links placed below if you'd like to learn more about this subject.  

Lincoln had a rough life, as most of us know.  Born poor, his mother died when he was young.  Self-taught in the rough frontier that was Kentucky, he made his way to Illinois.  Sure, he had some successes, but more failures.  His election to President was a surprise to most.  The anger of many soon followed.

Lincoln, despite all the odds against him, found a way to persevere.  When at times it seemed all were either against him or certainly doubting him, he found the strength to believe in himself.

How did he do it?   

Faith cannot be discounted.  One of Lincoln's better known quotes (and one cited by our current President in his 2012 convention speech) is the following: 

"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had no where else to go..."  

Yet there was more to Lincoln's way ahead through the fog of his despair.  I found this passage from Joshua Wolf Shenk's The Atlantic article to provide at least a partial answer.  He writes, discussing how Lincoln found his own way to deal with his depression:

"Lincoln responded with both humility and determination. The humility came from a sense that whatever ship carried him on life's rough waters, he was not the captain but merely a subject of the divine force—call it fate or God or the "Almighty Architect" of existence. The determination came from a sense that however humble his station, Lincoln was no idle passenger but a sailor on deck with a job to do. In his strange combination of profound deference to divine authority and a willful exercise of his own meager power, Lincoln achieved transcendent wisdom"

I think another way to look at it was Lincoln's ability to be honest with himself.  To recognize he had this condition and he'd admit to himself it was part of who he was.  It is a shame that he did not have access to the modern treatments available today.  Then again, if that was around, he might not have been able to have given us the speeches, the leadership, the plea for forgiveness and reconciliation after the blood spilling stopped.  We are the beneficiaries of his suffering. 

I'd be remiss as not to leave you with another of my favorite Lincoln quotes:

"Those who deny freedom to others, deserve it not for themselves..."

I like to think that Lincoln, for all the faults that befall all mortals, found a way to be honest about his melancholy, at least to himself.  In doing so, he found his own path to freedom.  This is important.  Consider how many other leaders in history were held back, perhaps paralyzed by their illness, unable to get help and get better.  They denied themselves the freedom to get better, to suffer.  How better a leader might they have been had they chose another way.  How different history might have been.

From everything I've read about Lincoln, it appears that he had the courage to admit to himself he was not well.  To him, he was "Honest Abe" indeed.  

As for the rest of us, let's look to draw inspiration from Lincoln, to have the courage to be honest with ourselves about what's truly going on with ourselves.  If everything's cool, great.  If not, then decide to either make it better or make peace with what it is.  That might be the best to hope for.

As I wrap up this blog post, my mind wandered to Jimmy Buffett's wedding band, The Eagles and one of their lyrics from "Already Gone:"

"So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains
And we never even know we have the key."  

Something to think about as we honor a President who freed others...and himself.

Be well my friends,
Jeno

Sources:

http://www.abrahamlincolnonline.org/lincoln/speeches/gettysburg.htm 

http://www.shenk.net/lincolnsmelancholy/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abraham_Lincoln#mediaviewer/File:Abraham_Lincoln_O-116_by_Gardner,_1865-crop.png

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2005/10/lincolns-great-depression/304247/ 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medical_and_mental_health_of_Abraham_Lincoln

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4976127

http://www.abilitymagazine.com/abe_story.html

http://rogerjnorton.com/Lincoln78.html

http://scholarship.law.marquette.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=5020&context=mulr

http://quod.lib.umich.edu/j/jala/2629860.0004.103/--anti-lincoln-tradition?rgn=main;view=fulltext

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2013/06/17/the-rancid-abraham-lincoln-haters-of-the-libertarian-right.html

The Lincoln quote at the end of this blog post:  The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln edited by Roy P. Basler, Volume III, "Letter To Henry L. Pierce and Others" (April 6, 1859), p. 376. 

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/eagles/alreadygone.html 

The Snow Princess

 

"The Snow Princess," photo by J. Berta

Greetings All:

This past week, we got walloped by about 13 inches of snow.  It actually started Saturday night, after raining all afternoon.  By Sunday morning, we were covered in snow.  Not just any snow, but the think, sticky kind.  The kind that makes shoveling and snowblowing a pain.  I mean that in both the figurative sense and in the literal, as in I was in pain on Tuesday.  I had to laugh (so as not to cry) at how ridiculously long it took me to tie my shoes.  Bending over to get the paper was high adventure.  

We, as adults bemoan (or another word beginning with "b") about winter and especially snow.  It is inconvenient.  Now that it's well below freezing, what did not get scraped off the sidewalks and driveways will be here to stay for a while.  I saw today someone who had no choice but to place his/her garbage can on top of a snow mound.  It reminded me of a medieval turret rising from a castle of snow.

Yet for kids, snow is truly a grand gift from above.  They will play in it for hours.  With the proper gear, they'll stay out in it for hours, rivaling the baddest 11Bravos at Fort Drum.  Yup, they love it.

My daughter Carly started building a snow man and quickly determined that it was unfair that these creations always are men.  "Why not a girl?"

Why not indeed?

So she and her friend Laelagh decided to create not just a snow woman, but something special- The Snow Princess.  The opening photo is their final creation.  I think it's pretty cool...and cold, clearly frozen by now.

Their creation and determination to love winter and the snow was the inspiration for the following poem.  Thanks ladies.

The Snow Princess by Jeno Berta

Snow, heavy snow, as far as the eye can see.

Branches bend, some cracking from it.

Streets are covered, tires spin.

Down the street, a snowblower moans.

A plow truck rumbles.

Us grown-ups mutter at the mess.

Then there are the wise amongst us.

Those who not only see the beauty in this snow, but what it offers.

Its gift.

They strap on snow pants and boots, hats and gloves,

They cannot wait to get out into it.

Our mess is their paradise.

After they are done sledding, they get onto the business at hand.

They create.

From the mass of the thick, perfect snow, they bring it to life.

They roll and pack, shape and carve.

The head may crumble, but they are not deterred.

They simply start again.

This next time is better than the first.

There it stands, in the yard, in the cold, in the still falling snow.

A snowman.

“Not a snowman, Dad!” I’m corrected.

“Just wait ‘till we’re done.”

So I watch.  I’m no longer cold.

A carrot becomes a nose, Ritz crackers let the snow…person see.

Then sticks for arms, and a scarf for warmth.

A wig and a tiara as a fitting final touch.

It is done.  Behold, The Snow Princess.

My daughter and her friend pose with their new friend. 

Three “Mighty Girls” indeed.

This, my friends, is how to deal with winter,

To create a memory.

One that will last long after The Snow Princess has melted away.

Be well my friends,
Jeno