A Work Progressing

I love the double and triple meaning of words. “It all depends upon your perspective.” What does that mean? Converging railroad tracks in the distance? Or, what you see depends upon where you stand. Generally, I know this to be true, there is a far better chance of understanding if you can actually see the problem.

So, having a place to stand, allows you to see. Changing perspective allows you to see more of a thing. I remember one of the things that stuck with me after reading Heinlein’s “Stranger in a Strange Land” was the concept of a Fair Witness. Someone who was trained to tell the absolute truth. Ask them what color a house was, and they would reply, “the color I see reflected on this side is off-white!”. It could have been painted blue on the back side. A change of perspective would have allowed that to be seen.

Often we extend our “sight” to our “thought”. Our vision of history is not only from our personal experience, but also from what we have read and heard. When we throw in a well produced film or video, it is almost as if we have seen it personally. That can be a slippery slope.

Gathering a balanced perspective in history can be difficult when the victors are the only voices. Emphasizing the other side without facts also creates a dilemma. I try as hard as I can, but I can’t read what is not written. And I suppose I can’t fully trust what is written without knowing the specific perspective.

I’m writing this now after I’ve just listened to “Murder Most afoul” by Bob Dylan. It was written and recorded almost a decade ago, but Dylan just recently released it. It’s a rather long ballad about John Kennedy’s assassination. It brought me back. While I wasn’t an adult, it probably was my first “adult-like” thought. I had a first hand experience. I followed the news, I watched the press conferences, I saw Ruby shoot Oswald in the parking garage. It was multiple murders most foul.

From my perspective things might have actually started to spin out of control from that point. A few flashes of brilliance, but mostly darker going forward. RFK, MLK, Vietnam, Chicago, Kent State, Nixon, Agnew, on and on…

It’s a personal perspective that hasn’t changed much from what I’ve seen and read since. I hope I live long enough to see a paradigm shift, where things are building, more then they are falling apart.

There was a time when we would seek out kosher chicken from the butcher, not Safeway. There was probably not much difference in the quality of the meat, the Safeway chicken had the label kosher so my guess is that it’s death was humane. But the butcher variety came with all the extras necessary for the various side products needing “”schmaltz”, the secret ingredient of Jewish health food. The various sweet meats, the scrawny neck bones, and the slightly scary chicken feet. Everything tucked away in the carcass of the bird. Like a surprise box.

Well, it was this surprise that caused my wife to flee the kitchen, leaving the bird unattended in the sink. I was told to deal with it. When I arrived the chicken lay there with one scrawny foot peaking out, as if the chicken was giving birth to an alien. It was a terrifying sight!

I removed both feet, neck and innards, then had an interesting thought. I was busy at the sink, running water, and the two kids were right in the next room watching television. Sherry was still hiding from the chicken feet somewhere.

I’m not saying I ran this next few minutes through a proper “parenting filter”, but I went ahead with the plan anyway. I ran the hot water until there was plenty of steam wafting about. Then I grabbed the chicken feet, one in each hand, and pulled my shirt cuffs down to cover my fists. Then I screamed that the water was too hot. “Jeowww!, I’ve burned my hands. Help me! Help me!” Both kids came running into the kitchen just in time for me to turn around, silhouetted by billowing clouds of steam, reaching out with my hideous claws.

The looks on their faces told me of future years of intense therapy. Widening eyes, screams of fear and empathy, and a sudden awareness of “what was I thinking?”

I don’t usually repost, but this was just too snarky to pass up. British sarcasm!

An Obituary printed in the London* *Times…..Absolutely Dead Brilliant!!* 👌👌

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as: 

– Knowing when to come in out of the rain; 

– Why the early bird gets the worm; 

– Life isn’t always fair; 

– And maybe it was my fault. 

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. 

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. 

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion. 

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. 

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault. 

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement. 

Common Sense was preceded in death,

-by his parents, Truth and Trust,

-by his wife, Discretion,

-by his daughter, Responsibility,

-and by his son, Reason. 

He is survived by his 5 stepbrothers; 

– I Know My Rights 

– I Want It Now 

– Someone Else Is To Blame ,I’m always right,

everybody is wrong —

– I’m A Victim

– Pay me for Doing Nothing 

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. 

If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

————-

“Common Sennse is so uncommon”

Been thinking about freedom. It’s a complex issue, always a two-sided coin. You can’t discuss freedom without having constraint. If there is no constraint, then… you just are.

In the same way, a lifetime of constraint doesn’t mean much, until you experience a minute of freedom.

(Do you have to experience freedom, even briefly, or can you simply dream of freedom?)

We are said to be a free society, but that’s not entirely true. We have tons of constraints, we have fixed and formal laws, we have customs and standards. And as we move forward to the future we seem to tighten the grip even more.

In 2010 I can remember being late for an airplane flight. I barely parked the car, I glanced at the monitor for the gate without breaking my stride. It was almost like the OJ commercial, hurdling seating, racing for the boarding area. I made it just as the door was closing.

A year later that all changed, it’s been nearly a decade later and TSA hasn’t gone away. I’m trying to think of the day that someone will say that we don’t need this anymore. I dunno, I think TSA is here to stay, the world has changed.

Today it was announced that more people have died from the virus than people in 9/11. I think the world has changed again. And to a certain extent, freedom is the victim. I’m not sure what constraints will be made, but they will be made, and it will be a long long time before anyone thinks they are not necessary.

I am surviving. I come from a long list of survivors. Oh, they eventually died, but before they did, they passed on their DNA. I am so amazed that if just one of my thousands of grandparents had died as a child, then I wouldn’t be here. So here is my official thank you to those long dead, but not forgotten.

John Frederick Diestler (1833-1894, my first Great Grandfather. I still haven’t officially linked you to rest of the Gros Fahlenwerder clan, but I’m thankful that you left the Old World and started something new and brave.

Kari Haldorsdtr Brathole (1870-1949), my great grandmother who came from Norway. Your husband disappeared in the wilds of Canada, yet you persevered. You died the year I was born but my mother told me lots about you.

Johann Wilhelm Diestler (1750-1815), my 3rd great grandfather. You wanted to come to America, you we’re tired of the wars in Europe. Instead you listened to King Frederick when he offered free land in the Neumark of Brandenburg. Your left with more than a hundred “colonists” from the Pfalz area of the Danube. It was new fertile land and the king promised not to draft your sons.

Per Ingebriktson Engjaland (1695-1766), my 5th great grandfather. I know next to nothing about you except the area where you lived. Vossestrand is beautiful now, and it must have been then.

Johann Georg Diestler (1707-1789), my 5th great grandfather. Thank you for being the first to move to the Pfalz area. I wish I could find your father and others, you are the earliest with the Diestler surname.

Anna Torgilsdotter (1535-1610), my 10th great grandmother. Thank you for leaving the hint that you were connected to royalty. The real benefit is that it gives me a tremendous database of great grandparents. On my father’s side it pretty much ends at the 5th and 6th generation individuals.

Sigurd Erlingssen, the Pretender Ribbung (1203-1226), my 23rd great grandfather. You died a young man, but not before you had a child, and tried to be King. That’s why you are called Sigurd the Pretender.

Magnus V, King of Norway Erlingson (1156-1184), my 25th great grandfather. Thank you for being the first king of the family. But we’re you a good king? I have to read more about you.

Eric, the Good, King of Denmark Estridsen, (1056-1103), my 27th great grandfather. Thank you for being “good”, I’ll have to read more about you as well.

Harald “Blue Tooth”, king of Denmark Gormsson, (986), my 29th great grandfather. I know it might be sad that most people only know you by the logo of your two runic initials, and the communications technology invented by Hedy Lamar. But it’s better than the nickname based upon a dead tooth.

Harald III, Hardrada Sigurdsson, king of Norway, (1015-1066), my 30th great grandfather. I can’t believe I’m related to my most favorite Middle Ages character. Conan the Barbarian was based upon you! You fought and won all over Europe. I’ve read so many stories about your life. Too bad that you took an arrow in your throat at Stamford Bridge, York.

Harold Godwinsson, king of England, another one of my 30th great grandfathers. Thank you for not dying in the battle with my other great grandfather. Too bad that you died nineteen days later, with an arrow in the eye. William the Bastard attacked just about at the right time, just after most of your best men were killed fighting Harald Hardrada. Oh yeah, I guess he gets to be called William the Conqueror now.

Alfred the Great, king of The Anglo-Saxons, (849-899), my 32 great grandfather. Thanks for being great in a Dark Age.

Rurik, Founder of the Rus Dynasty, (830-879), my 35th great grandfather. Thank you for being the leader of a dynasty that created the country of Russia. Okay, you might be mythical but that’s all right.

Aun Jorundsson, King of Uppsala Sweden, (400s), my 48th great grandfather. Thank you for being so mythical that you might be a character in the Beowulf Saga.

Odin of Asgard, (timeless), my 55th great grandfather. Thank you for all the myths, nice to know I’m also related to Thor and Loki.

It’s been a busy week doing the research, plugging in the data. 13,500+ people, very few of them noteworthy. Just great grandparents staying alive long enough to have children. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

So, let’s check the boxes. I am old, not terribly old, but old enough not to be confused with young or even middle-aged. I have diabetes. I’ve recently had a heart attack, and heart disease is another box that’s ticked. I had prostate cancer. My breathing has been an issue.

Hmm, I’m a prime candidate for the Great Cleansing. Well, I’m not surprised. It’s not hard to read the writing on the wall, particularly when it is in ten foot letters, and repeated so often. My time on this earth is ending. So now what?

Well, there is still stuff to learn and think about. All this time cooped up has given me more energy to research ancestors. The honey-pot of genealogists is finding a connection to royalty. Not because it’s so cool (it’s cool!), but because so many really good researchers have spent years doing the lineage research.

I’ve often thought, if I could only connect to a minor duke or count, then I could go back hundreds of years. All this time, no luck. I’ve barely found anyone famous or infamous. One murderer, and two victims of murder. That’s about it.

Then I saw one mention of someone stating a link to the Norwegian royal family. Yep, it was a solid piece. I checked it several ways. I had to take it back to 1300s but then I found Magnus V, King of Norway. Kings marry royalty, so it didn’t take long to find kings of Sweden, Denmark, Finland and even Kiev. Tons of them, over and over. Almost an issue of in-breeding.

In a couple of hours I added about 600 royal individuals. Haha, I even found a dozen kings that were mythical, characters from Beowulf!

On my fathers side I still can’t find for certain my great grandfather’s father.

My lovely wife did me the favor of collecting the yearly documents necessary to present to our tax person. Our new tax person, because our old tax person retired after thirty years. This has been a troubling time. For years our old tax person knew that the season was ending because I would show up at the last minute with a pile of unorganized documents. It would be only me because Sherry had done her part by finding most of the documents. It was my part to sit in the office and be embarrassed.

Now I have to train an entirely new person. This does not bode well.

The good news is that Sherry found something interesting in her search. Looking for taxes she found a collection of notecards. Back when I was mid heart surgery everyone thought that it would be nice to write down the “one thing” that I might have taught them. Or maybe two things.

This was just in case that I would not be coming home. Apparently I read them in the hospital, and enjoyed them very much. Also apparently they could have read me the phone book, and I would have enjoyed that as well. Hospital medication is amazing. I have no memory of that time or the things that were read to me.

So Sherry presents this little gift from my family, and I like it so much that I’m concerned that it might get lost in the future, so why not freeze the moment in time and make it a blog post…

John’s One Things from Heart Summer
One thing I’ve learned from my dad is Navajo bread is a family tradition, but now I have to learn how to make it. -Amy

One thing I love about Papa is his incredible gift of story telling- Laura

One thing I’ve learned is that a good, caring, wise and honest man can be a lifeline and father to the fatherless- that’s you!- Sherry

One thing I learned is to be careful around Jack Tone Road- Jenna

One thing Poppa taught me was about (the guy outside) John Muir. And he has swords, and watches.- Isaiah

One thing Papa taught me is that you should never be afraid to follow God’s direction. – Stu

One thing I’ve learned from dad is to always be creative when cooking meals. – Amy

One thing I love about Papa is his deep love and care for his family. – Jenna

One thing I learned is to remember. Remember your past, remember who you are as a person, as a community, as a people. Remember God’s good works in your life.- Jenna

One thing I learned was to treasure the written word. It is a balm, a friend, an outlet. Journal everyday, and change your life. I love reading your writing, and I love that you taught us to write.- Jenna

One thing I learned from Dad was you learn more from your failures than success.- Amy

One thing Dad taught me was that we have special powers to see through people (walls). – Amy

One thing I learned from Papa is how to always look at all sides of a situation.- Laura

One thing I learned from Dad was how to line up facial features when drawing the human face.- Amy

One thing I learned is to be a person of integrity. Let yes be yes and no be no. Be honest. Thank you for always being honest and open with me and everyone. Thank you for sharing who you ar and letting me be who I am.- Jenna

One thing I learned from you is that a huge heart coupled with humility = a person of integrity.- Nikki

One thing my Dad taught me is that Nikki+Wine= No Good. And Dad will always be there to keep me safe.- Nikki

One thing I’ve learned is the nobility of the centurion.- Sherry

One thing I’ve learned to appreciate the generations who came before us and to honor their legacy.- Sherry

One thing I’ve learned is how to put together a beautiful and meaningful blog.- Sherry

One thing I’ve learned from Papa is that history, literature, and art are incredibly important. -Laura

One thing Papa taught me is that you can never have too many knives, especially if you are going to the happiest place on earth.- Stu

One thing I love about you is that after 6+ years, you are still telling me interesting stories.- Travis

One thing I learned from you is to always pay attention to rooftops. Remember to look up was very handy in Italy.- Travis

One thing I admire about you is your artistic eye & ear, you have excellent taste in music & your talent for creative expression is inspiring.- Zach

One thing I’ve learned from you is to think deeply about faith & to not just take someone else’s word about God and his Word.- Zach

I like playing with Papa’s watch.- Abby

One thing I’ll never forget about you is how you worshipped & prayed at Promise Keepers ‘96. Love you Poppa.- Zach

Four things, that I appreciate is that you, Dad, is that you are loyal, brave, creative, and compassionate.- Nikki

Good grief! I will try for the rest of my life to live up to what I have told each of you. Well, most of them anyway. Forget some of them, I was wrong, you pick and choose.

I am of an age where my memory has been somewhat selective. I have professed to my children that the music from the Sixties was far better than any decade since. I had forgotten that the 60’s had its share of “bubble gum” music. The Bikini song, Alley Oop, Monster Mash, Mr. Custer.

True there were a few interesting years from 1964 to 1969, but that was only half of the decade. And frankly, the decade ended badly.

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny Yellow Polka Dot Bikini

by Brian Hyland (1960)

She was afraid to come out of the locker

She was as nervous as she could be

She was afraid to come out of the locker

She was afraid that somebody would see

Two, three, four, tell the people what she wore!

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini

That she wore for the first time today.

An itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini

So in the locker she wanted to stay.

Two, three, four, stick around we’ll tell you more!

She was afraid to come out in the open

And so a blanket around her she wore.

She was afraid to come out in the open.

And so she sat bundled up on the shore.

Two, three, four, tell the people what she wore!

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini.

That she wore for the first time today.

An itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini.

So in the blanket she wanted to stay.

Two, three, four, stick around we’ll tell you more!

Now she is afraid to come out of the water.

And I wonder what she’s gonna do.

‘Cause she’s afraid to come out of the water.

And now the poor little girl’s turning blue.

Two, three, four, tell the people what she wore!

It was an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini.

That she wore for the first time today.

An itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka-dot bikini.

So in the water she wanted to stay.

From the locker to the blanket,

From the blanket to the shore,

From the shore to the water

Guess there isn’t any more.

• Georgia On My Mind by Hoagy Carmichaeperformed by Ray Charles (1960)

• Hit The Road Jack by Ray Charles (1961)

• Lily of the West, Traditional, performed by Joan Baez, (1961)

• Johnny Angel, by Shelley Fabares (1962)

• Duke of Earl, by Gene Chandler (1962)

• Puff the Magic Dragon, lyrics by Lenny Lipton, performed by Peter, Paul and Mary (1963)

• There but for Fortune, by Phil Ochs, version by Joan Baez (1963)

• I Want to Hold Your Hand, by The Beatles (1964)

• I Get Around, by The Beach Boys (1964)

• (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction by The Rolling Stones (1965)

• Eve of Destruction by Barry McGuire (1965)

• For What It’s Worth, by Steve Sills, performed by Buffalo Springfield (1966)

• California Dreamin’ by The Mama’s and The Papa’s (1966)

• Outside a Small Circle of Friends, Phil Ochs, (1967)

• White Rabbit, by Jefferson Airplane, (1967)

• Hey Jude, by The Beatles, (1968)

• Mrs. Robinson, by Simon and Garfunkel, (1968)

• Sugar, Sugar, by The Archies (1969)

Build Me Up Buttercup, by The Foundations (1969)

Why do you build me up (build me up) buttercup, baby

Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around?

And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby

When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still

I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’

You know that I have from the start

So build me up (build me up) buttercup, don’t break my heart

“I’ll be over at ten, ” you told me time and again

But you’re late, I wait around and then (bah dah dah)

I went to the door, I can’t take any more

It’s not you, you let me down again

baby, baby, try to find

(Hey, hey, hey) a little time and I’ll make you mine

(Hey, hey, hey) I’ll be home

I’ll be beside the phone waiting for you

Ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh

Why do you build me up (build me up) buttercup, baby

Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around?

And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby

When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still

I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’

You know that I have from the start

So build me up (build me up) buttercup, don’t break my heart

You were my toy but I could be the boy you adore

If you’d just let me know (bah dah dah)

Although you’re untrue, I’m attracted to you all the more

Why do I need you so?

baby, baby, try to find

(Hey, hey, hey) a little time and I’ll make you mine

(Hey, hey, hey) I’ll be home

I’ll be beside the phone waiting for you

Ooh ooh ooh, ooh ooh ooh

Why do you build me up (build me up) buttercup, baby

Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around?

And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby

When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still

I need you (I need you) more than anyone, darlin’

You know that I have from the start

So build me up (build me up) buttercup, don’t break my heart

I, I, I need you more than anyone, baby

You know that I have from the start

So build me up (build me up) buttercup

What is it when we are not looking for something, and then we find it? It’s hard to be thoughtless in the literal sense, which is somehow different than the emotional uncaring sense. The pure thoughtless is almost like the zen state of quieting the mind. I’ve been there several times, but never by choice.

And I’m not sure that thinking has ceased completely, because my body still takes directions. I get up out of the chair, and I take a few hesitant steps. Invariably I head into the kitchen, I’m aware of this because I return to the thinking state soon after I am staring into the refrigerator, wondering why I am staring into the refrigerator?

Facebook movie clips are similar. Often I’m scrolling through the clips looking for something. I’m not aware of what I’m looking for, but I continue to scroll. I have a vague awareness that, at times, Facebook presents videos that are targeted to me individually. For some reason an algorithm led Facebook to present Chinese sniper movies, fighting the Japanese during WWII. I stopped to watch a few, and that led to more Chinese sniper movies. I stopped watching them.

Then the algorithm changed and suddenly there were dozens of talk shows clips. Viewing any of them brought even more. It was a little like the land of the Lotus Flower eaters. An unending stream of whatever knowledge I was seeking. Except I didn’t know what I was looking for. I was just looking unthoughtfully.

Another set of clips started to flow. Clips from the BBC, talk shows, game shows, blogs from British bloggers. I stopped at a few. Even more showed up. And then I saw something that generated a thought. Very similar to waking up in front of the open refrigerator.

It was a clip interviewing Stephen Fry. He was relating that in school he wasn’t particularly good at anything, not science, not math, not sports. What he loved was reading mythology. To him it was like videos games, or Marvel comics. The characters he read about seemed heroic and thoughtful. They tried to explain and give reasons for things that were all around him.

One in particular he remembered. Hercules was a hero, legends galore. He was a Demi-god, fathered by Zeus. Well, it seems that his Greek name was Heracules, in part because Zeus wanted to appease his wife Hera. Hera wanted nothing to do with the child of Zeus and some human woman.

In an attempt to create a bond with the baby Heracules, the god Mercury (directed by Zeus) picked up the baby and placed it on Hera’s nursing breast while she slept. After a time, Heracules’ strong suckling woke the sleeping Hera. In a rage, she leapt from the bed, spraying a circle of breast milk in the air all around her.

Milk in Greek is gala, breast milk circle is galaxias kyklos. The Romans called it via lactate. We call it The Milky Way.

Tangential knowledge.