True or False?

"Even the worst, most intractible kind of mistake beats the hell out of never even trying."

~Meredith Gray, Gray's Anatomy, ABC

A Life Worth Living by Chuck Colson

A friend emailed me this from townhall.com:

My wife, Patty, and I were reminded of just why truth matters when we visited our grandson’s school one afternoon.

Max, as some of you may know, is autistic. As he showed Patty and me around his special-needs school—a story I tell in my new book, The Good Life—I was more than impressed with his teachers. They get a modest wage and work long hours under intense conditions. Autistic kids are demanding and sometimes aggressive. Yet Max’s teachers radiated joy—and I understood why.

Whenever Max comes to visit, everything else goes on hold as I accommodate myself to his schedule and his needs. Learning to meet those needs has been one of the greatest challenges, but also one of my greatest blessings.

But as I stood that day in Max’s classroom, a troubling thought crossed my mind. Why does the public education system spend as much as $65,000 per year to tend kids like Max? He will never go to college and never get a productive job. I couldn’t help but think of Peter Singer, the famous utilitarian philosopher from Princeton, and his argument that societies ought to spend their resources creating the maximum happiness for the greatest number. Singer’s logic would urge us to think about how many starving children could be fed for the cost of Max’s tuition. A chill came over me as I realized just how natural that argument sounds and how dangerous it is.

Singer and others, as a matter of fact, would argue against letting Max come into the world at all. And that argument has infiltrated our culture to an almost unbelievable extent. Ninety percent of couples who learn that their unborn children have a disability end up aborting them. Singer takes that mentality a step further, however, arguing that it’s ethical to kill these children after they’re born.

So the argument becomes—why should efforts like Max’s school, or taking care of very elderly people, continue if it’s in our power to make it unnecessary?

The person who says, “yes,” to Max now and in the future can reason only on the basis of something completely other than a cost-benefit analysis. In a utilitarian accounting, Max’s life is meaningless. Why, then, does he bring so much joy to his family and his teachers? Max’s autism is not a good thing—it’s part of the world’s brokenness—and yet that brokenness has been used to enlarge our capacity to love. Max brings joy into our lives through our sacrifices for him. Max himself knows a joy and wonder that puts me to shame. How does one account for this?

Looking at Max’s life, I have to conclude that the good life is not about the sum total of what we contribute to the world. It’s about loving. Utilitarianism knows nothing of love—as Peter Singer discovered when he found himself lavishing money and care on his Alzheimer’s-stricken mother, something that’s completely against his own philosophy.

Truth matters, and the truth is we are creatures made in the image of a loving God, and life has an ultimate value. So beware of the smooth-talking philosophers in our midst. Their position may seem very appealing and even logical. But it’s a deadly logic.

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While certainly I agree that Max and many like him are amazing, beautiful individuals who deserve life as much as the rest of us, I am continually saddened by the short-sided, fear and ignorance that continues to drive right wing conservatism. By Mr. Colson's logic, put forth in this touching story of his grandson's disability, historically we have been sinfully wrong in conducting all manner of scientific medical research. If we were to follow the advice and wishes of people like Mr. Colson, then we must look at all scientific medical research as meddling with God's loving image. And had we always adhered to this mindset, it's possible that the plague would have ravaged on unchecked. Thousands today would be afflicted with polio - people who in fact today live equally beautiful lives unafflicted. By Mr. Colson's logic we should continue to allow the suffering of alzheimer's and parkinson's diseases. While we are at it, let's just give up looking for a cure for all cancers and for AIDS, as I am sure that anyone suffering from either would much rather discover the joy and increased capacity of their love than live a longer, healthier, life filled only with a normal capacity for love.

While it is true that with any radical new research there is enormous potential for abuse and there are ethical issues involved. But that is why we have in place things like the hippocratic oath taken by doctors. What Mr. Colson's argument sorely misses is that we live in an America where health care costs make living with a disability increasingly more difficult. Spending government money to help eradicate some of these disabilities (not the people afflicted with them) seems prudent in the long run, but in terms of quality of life and its cost-effectiveness.

My Dog has OCD

I think my dog has an Obsessive Compulsive Sniffing Disorder...Every morning when I wake up, she sniffs me from crotch to toe. She is not subtle about where she sticks her nose. When I emerge from the shower and am wrapped in a towel, she will sniff again. When I get dressed, she will once again peruse me with her nostrels. Sometimes she doesn't even wait for me to finish dressing before she begins her sniffing investigation. I wonder if it's some sort of marker, so she will know me when I return or if she is just a good bodyguard - sniffing everything I wear before I wear it - like in medieval times when they had a court taster to test the food for poison before the king would take a bite. Although, I must admit that she does not seem to care one way or the other about any of my clothes. She simply has to sniff me every time I change them. It is for this reason that I think she has a obsessive complusive disorder. She will even re-sniff me when I get home - as if to say, "Just Checkin." I've found that I have become desensitized to her sniffs. It no longer seems to bother me at all to walk three steps into my home each day with her nose in my crotch. It is somewhat alarming however to see her do it to my guests. Is there treatment for this? Should I pass out crotch guards at the door? Maybe I should have her nose removed....nnaaaaa! I think I will instead say to anyone visiting my home - "You have been fore-warned! If you bring your crotch to my house, you do so at your own risk. It will be sniffed!" Perhaps I will have a sign made and hung outside next to the door - like those Beware of Dog signs - only mine will say, "Beware of Dog Nose!"

Consider yourself warned!

The Follow-Me Parade

My labrador is big and black. She's weighs about 125 lbs and follows me around like a shadow. Sometimes she follows me so close that she steps on my flip flops and I walk right out of them. She had a litter of 12 puppies 3 years ago. We kept two of them. Now I have 3 labradors - 2 black and one caramel colored. (I suppose that makes her a yellow lab, but she's really darker than yellow...) Now that the puppies are big enough to flop around the house, they have joined the follow-me parade. They will race each other to be the first one behind me. Sometimes, the puppies will follow me side by side as a pair, trotting along, each trying to nudge my hand into petting them. Sometimes I wonder if they follow me around because they are afraid of losing me. They will literally follow me everywhere I go. Into the living room, everyone get settled, into the kitchen to watch me get milk, back to the living room, now across the room to retrieve the remote and so the parade goes.

I think their favorite place to follow me is into the bathroom. They know that once I sit on the porcelain throne, I am trapped. All three will vie for a spot closest to me. One will sit between the bathtub and me, one will sit between the wall and me and the third will plop in the middle with her head in my lap - yes while I am doing my thing. They all three wag their tails and expect some sort of petting. I have become very creative at petting 3 dogs with only 2 hands. It amuses me that while I am petting them, they stop wagging their tails, but as soon as I stop their tails go crazy....I have also had to create a signal for when I want them to go away - I raise both arms above my head and look away from them. They have come to understand that this means they are to stop begging for attention and leave me to my business. At this signal, two will leave and go lay down outside the bathroom door. They are the lookout. The third will lay at my feet facing out. She is my bodyguard. I'm not sure how they decide who will play which role. It's never the same twice. But I am relieved that I am always able to pee safely guarded.

Grass and Gravel Do Not Mix

Last Wednesday, it finally rained - which is great for the rest of the area, bad for my basement. Yup, it flooded again. Only a couple of inches this time, but clearly something was once again not working properly. Called the sewage guys to come out. The declared that I had a collapsed pipe. But they were all booked up and could not fix it until Friday....two stinky days later - (why stinky you ask? Well, when water and sewage back up in your basement, it's stinky - FYI, running the air conditioner only makes the stinky spread through the house more evenly. But I digress...on Friday, the sewage guy crew shows up with a big backhoe and a van and a truck for hauling away stuff and they run a line and discover that there is indeed a collapse, and it is located under my driveway and sidewalk. In order to get to it, they have to cut the sidewalk, the driveway, break off a piece of railroad tie that holds in the flower bed and dig up the corner of the flower bed.

I'm starting to wonder how much worse this can get...but do not have time to contemplate as I have two events to take care of and must trot off to work. I stop by home after the first event for an update. There is not a hole where my sidewalk and flower bed used to be that is big enough to drop a pool table into and deeper than a man is tall. They have exposed the pesky broken pipe and I can see that it is indeed collapsed. It has a hole in it the size of a man's shoe. It is as I am gazing into the hole to China that the "boss" introduces himself and explains that the pipe is cracked beyond the hole that is exposed and they need to run another line to see if there is another break. Of course, with this discovery, the up front quote of $2200 becomes void. I choose denial and go back to work, leaving them to investigate further.

Checking back after my second event, they have indeed discovered that there is a second collapse which is 20 feet further up the pipe toward the street. So for an additional $2200 they will dig up my driveway and fix that break as well. It will be $600 more to connect the two holes and check that crack running between them - essentially replace the entire pipe between the two big breaks. $5000...but that's only if they don't find any more problems at the second break. If it goes out under the street, then its a whole new set of problems. By the way, did anyone know that the section of pipe that runs from the ciy sewer under the street to your property is your responsibility to fix if broken. Even though it is not on your property, you are essentially renting that section of pipe and are in charge of it's maintenance. This is what the guy is explaining to me as a worst case scenario...that digging up the street will cost an additional $8000, since you have to re-pave the streets to city code and all. I actually thought I might get sick all over his nice construction boots.

But what can I do - it's not like I can choose to NOT fix the sewer pipes. So I tell them to get started. They are unable to finish on Friday however, so they clean-up around 2pm and say they will return today (Monday) to finish. It rained again today...they didn't start until after lunch. They left around 6pm...only to return again tomorrow to haul away the rest of the dirt they left in a pile on my driveway. They also left me with an odd diagonal cut down the middle of my driveway - on one side there remains the concrete driveway, on the other, mushy gravel. On the gravel side, I used to have a clearly defined yard edge - not so much anymore. And the railroad ties....yeah well, those must have been too difficult to put back, because they left them at a 45 degree angle to the flower bed, one end still attached. I can see the resale value of my home plummeting before my eyes.

But, the upside is that the stink is gone and I can do laundry again....I have brand new sewage pipes that will last for 1000 years and they did not in fact have to cut into the city street. Does anyone know how to make grass seed grow out of gravel?

Heat Index of 115 degrees

It is 110 degrees in the shade! (I used to say that when I was trying to describe how hot I thought it was.) But today, it's not just a euphemism - not sure if that's the word I'm looking for - it ACTUALLY IS 110 degrees in the shade! The air is warm enought to feel like you are wrapped in a blanket from head to toe. Thank god and goddes there is a wind (not breeze, wind) today - or literally everyone would melt. Just puddles of people lying around on the sidewalk.

It amazes me though how many people are out and about - jogging (clear case of insanity), walking around (boredom?), or going to the street festival (make the best of it and have fun). Ahh, yes, Summer in Chicago! So hot you could die, but we don't care, we're gonna party anyway! I'm heading back for my friend's band Hello Dave. I figure I am already sticky, and sweaty - might as well go enjoy some music and have some fun. It would be really nice however, if it is not this hot again tomorrow.

City Life

I love being in the city. Don't get me wrong, the burb I live in is great - lots of character, older...none of those icky subdivisions. They even do three of four festivals a year where the whole town joins in...but, in the city, it's different. The energy is almost electric. I'm downtown for the weekend to sell a book that I am in charge of promoting for my company. We are set up at a Children's Festival that becomes more adult friendly after 8pm. I had resigned myself to 2 very long hot days of boredom. But last night this amazing jazz/blues/swing group that I used to go see in grad school played the festival.

Street festivals are great - beer trucks, street closed off, big stage, great sound all under the open night sky. And this group - The Mighty Blue Kings - is so awesome. They are Chicago natives - used to play at the Green Mill all the time. They have a great following and play to the crowd really well - so even if you don't love their music, you can't help but have fun. We were dancing in the streets and then $1 beers and $1 dogs at Murphy's after - sitting on the patio. And the really best part is that it was all within walking disatance of where we were staying - no stinky cabs or cab fare for that matter. Cheap, fun and we were asleep by midnight - I know that doesn't sound great, but today it's supposed to be over 100 degrees and we have another day of festival.

It's funny, because another band playing the festival - Hello Dave - is an aquaintance of mine - friend of a friend. So what was to be two really long, hot crappy days - have become tolerable - even enjoyable. I love when shit like this happens.

Nearing desperation

I can feel myself slipping into the abyss. I'm not a depressive person, but i keep wondering how much any one person can take before they just disappear. I'm sure it's all very mundane - common even but it matters to me and I'm a little afraid that my breaking point is closer than I want it to be.

Then I realize I haven't eaten or slept well - and I think perhaps I'm blowing it all out of proportion. Everything will be okay if I just keep moving forward. Can forward movement be measured in inches?

Or I realize that despite the fact the the rain today filled my basement with 2 inches of water, I can't really complain because we need the rain so badly. So it's really a good thing.

And then I think about how much worse it really could be. Like finding out this weekend that a friend's baby was stillborn. Or hearing that another friend lost someone in a tragic car crash. Makes my stuff seem petty.

But it's so real to me and so difficult. So I stand at the edge looking over and hope that today isn't the day I discover my breaking point.

If we aren't careful we may wake up one day no longer in America

This is copied from a post on another blog - pretty scary how far we might let Bush go unchecked...

You can sign the petition at moveon.com

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'In the past weeks, Republicans and Democrats have called on President Bush to nominate a moderate for the Supreme Court—someone who would honor the legacy of independent Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. But last night, President Bush nominated Judge John Roberts, a far-right lawyer and corporate lobbyist, to fill her post on the Supreme Court.

We've got to stop Roberts. He opposed clean air rules and worked to help coal companies strip-mine mountaintops. He worked with Ken Starr (yes, that Ken Starr), and tried to keep Congress from defending the Voting Rights Act. He wrote that Roe v. Wade should be "overruled," and as a lawyer argued (and won) the case that stopped some doctors from even discussing abortion.

Join our urgent petition to let our senators know we expect them to oppose John Roberts right now, by clicking here

This is one of the most important domestic fights of President Bush's career. We can win—Americans overwhelmingly want a moderate judge. But to win, we need to get the word out early that Roberts is out of the mainstream.

After you've signed, please send this message on to your friends and colleagues. We need to fight back against the misinformation that the Bush administration is putting out.

John Roberts has little experience as a judge—he was only appointed in 2003. But he's got a lot of experience as a corporate lobbyist and lawyer, consistently favoring wealthy corporations over regular Americans.

Here's a list of some of the things that make Roberts the wrong pick for the Supreme Court:

Wrong on environmental protection:
Roberts appears to want to limit the scope of the Endangered Species Act, and in papers he wrote while in law school he supported far-right legal theories about "takings" which would make it almost impossible for the government to enforce most environmental legislation.

Wrong on civil rights:
Roberts worked to keep Congress from defending parts of the Voting Rights Act.

Wrong on human rights:
As a appeals court judge, Roberts ruled that the Geneva Convention doesn't apply to some prisoners of war.

Wrong on our right to religious freedom:
Roberts argued that schools should be able to impose religious speech on attendees.

Wrong on women's rights:
Roberts wrote that "Roe v. Wade was wrongly decided and should be overruled." He also weighed in on behalf of Operation Rescue, a violent anti-abortion group, in a federal case.

President Bush could have chosen many fair-minded and independent jurists to replace Sandra Day O'Connor. Instead, he chose a corporate partisan loved by Bush's right-wing base but out of step with the rest of the country.'
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It amazes me that even intelligent Republicans continue to support Bush. Hopefully we can keep him from leaving a legacy like this.

45 of 80

I am killing time between my lunch date and meeting friends for dinner. I have listened to 45 of the 80 songs on this particular playlist...

"What kind of music am I listening to?" you ask - translation: "I am so bored, that I am going to list the music I am listening to, just to have something to do."

Right now it is "Possession" by Sarah McLachlan. The song before this was "Stockings" by Suzanne Vega.

I have some pop-y girlie stuff like John Mayer and Howie Day and Anna Nalick on this playlist.

Also some really yummy stuff like Ray LaMontagne and Carbonfour and staples like Sting and U2.

Fun stuff that makes me nostalgic for grad school like Rusted Root and for undergrad like R.E.M and the Indigo Girls.

And stuff that pinches my heart a little like the New Radicals and Coldplay.

That's what I am listening to right now. By no means the breadth and scope of my musical interests, but an indication of my current state of mind.

And finally it's time to go meet my friends...

Fat Chicks?

So I'm listening to the Eric and Kathy show this morning on my drive to work and they are talking about the new Dove billboard ads. And Eric quotes this guy from the newspaper who basically says that in his opinion, the billboards are unappealing because he doesn't want to see "chunky women" up on a billboard. Of course this sparks a big discussion as to the appropriatness of that statement, (i.e. can sizes 6-12 be considered "chunky"), whether or not there is a double standard (i.e. would women want to see "normal men" in the form of beer bellies up on a billboard rather than washboard abs), and, who are the ads geared towards anyway, (i.e. do women really care if men are turned off, because the billboard isn't advertising to them.)

Of course all of this is a product of what society considers beautiful or attractive. One could argue that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. However, we are conditioned by today's advertising images to see beauty as thin, gaunt even. And the standard is not equal. Men in advertising are muscular, virile, physically strong. Women are scrawny stick insects that wear a size "0". But in reality, what do we as a society truly find attractive. For instance, a women just walked into the cafe where I am sitting. She is easily a size 10 or bigger. I'll bet you just pictured someone who is "chunky." However, she is anything but. She is tall, has an athletic build, larger breasts and long legs. She is a size 10 most likely because of her height and proportion, not her weight. She actually has a small waist. And I'll bet that every man in the room checks her out appreciatively when she walks into a bar. This obviously does not correlate with what we expect to see in advertising, even "prefer".

What I wonder is whether of not the author of the article would PREFER to see the "chunky" women if that is all he ever saw in advertising? If he wasn't conditioned to think that a size "0" was sexy, would he look at the Dove billboard the same way? For instance if we lived in the time of The Renaissance in Florence during the 1400s, those women on the Dove billboard are actually borderline starving. A full figure during that time period meant that you were well-fed, which translated to wealthy. And wealthy was sexy. Clearly we do not have the same opinions today, but how much is programmed and how much really is in the eye of the beholder? If you are conditioned to prefer something, is it really your preference? Or have we progressed beyond this? Do we understand that advertising is simply the "fantasy" and not reality? Even this is an unfortunate realization - that the fantasy is an unattainable condition both for men and for women. Why are we not conditioned to fantasize about something that we could actually attain?

Of course this raises the question of whether or not advertising brings us what we fantasize about or do we fantasize about what advertising tells us to? Up to this point my argument has been the latter - which I will maintain. Of course given the diversity of preferences today...someone out there somewhere really does prefer the size "0" to the size "6". But it has been my experience that this is not the majority. (To qualify, I bartend and am a great observer of people.) When a guy is describing a woman he thinks is hot, rarely does he refer to her waist size. And most of the men I see in bars and most of my guy friends for that matter do all in fact date "normal" women...not size "0's" - Of course, unless they are a starving model, most size "0" women are under the age of 18...and thus legally off-limits to the men I know and see in bars. Perhaps I have gotten off the subject a little.

At any rate, I do find this interesting, the idea that our preferences are not really our own, but rather what society or advertising tell us to prefer. So how can we ever really be sure of our opinions...or whether or not beauty really is in the eye of the beholder?

Kindred Spirit

Thoroughly enjoyin this blog...

http://nowheretonight.blogspot.com/

New Interests

I like this blog - great conversations and interesting comments. It's nice to read good, intelligent conversation.

http://jeffliveshere.blogspot.com/

Check it out.

Sick Humor I Love

A good friend sent me this - made me laugh out loud.

Some people are like Slinkies.
They're really good for nothing.
But they still bring a smile to your face,
when you push them down a flight of stairs.

Stargazing

Several of my friends have birthdays in July. One friend's husband had a star in her astrological sign renamed for her. I didn't know you could do that. It's philosophically interesting...knowing that a celestial body, many light years away, has your name on it. Powerful...I find the ownership aspect of it interesting too. Again, knowing that something so vast and so far away belongs to you - if only in name. The idea of putting your mark on something that has existed for a minimum of thousands of years and will likely last far beyond your own lifetime is both empowering and immortalizing. I wonder if our modern and very personal claiming of the heavens will find a place in history. Astrological names for star groupings came from ancient navigation and mythology. Stories and techniques passed down from generation to generation and finally recorded in writing and passed between cultures. I wonder if my friend's name will find it's way into some myth for future generations to pass down and immortalize. It's romantic - as a gift I mean, creative. But also, reflective and spiritual in a way, otherworldly...like something watching over you. At the very least, a yearly reason to look heavenward - definitely better than cut flowers or a pair of slippers. Happy Birthday my friend and happy stargazing.

Swimming in a Sea of Thoughts

I have not posted in over a week. No real crisis - but I feel the need to write about something. Instead, I am lost in too many thoughts - so many things to contemplate, no one single idea fully formed. I have been steeped in history all day. This morning in the history of Art - Medieval Romanesque and Gothic art. Tonight watching Ancient Greece and Rome - first "Troy," now "King Arthur." I love that 1500 year span from Ancient Greece to just before the Renaissance. The proliferation and grandeur of the Golden Age of the Greeks and then the Romans, the Early Christian and Byzantine periods straight through the so called Dark Ages. It is such an amazing time of folklore, mythology, pagan rites and christian beginnings. And everywhere, amazing, symbolic, richly creative art. I used to be a great lover of Modern Art, Post-Impressionism and Abstract Expressionism in particular. Symbolism too. And I suppose I still do have an affinity for these periods. But I find, more and more that I am engrossed, enamoured even with the Dark Ages. (Of course, to love the Dark Ages is to understand and study the Golden Age before it.) So I am an admirer of the Greeks and Romans as well. My whole life has been about history in some form or other. My father is a great historian and even makes quite a lucrative hobby of his love of history. He has always loved early American history - the Civil War, it's cavalry in particular. But now he studies the cavalry of many ages, from the Napoleonic Wars to WWI. And I am drawn to the cavalry as well. But I find the political, religious, symbolic and visual imagery of a period even more fascinating. If you look hard enough, the art of any age will define each of these - government, spirituality - life itself. And so I swim around in my thoughts - enveloped in history today - reviving my brain cells with art and lore and cinematic interpretation. Here's to ever-evolving creativity!