Finally Finished, Finishing Well!

I’m extraordinarily jacked up about finally having completed and published Finishing Well. It was a labor of love but also an enormous amount of good, old-fashioned regular labor. I was aided immeasurably by both Denise Roy and my sister Paula Roop, who both scanned through the manuscript looking for errors and found many.  I’m sure there are still a few that escaped their scrutiny, but it’s done.

I hope that the book is enjoyable inasmuch as a book about death and dying can be. My sincere wish is that it will provide comfort to those who may be going through similar struggles and a bit of wisdom to those who might be facing the same experience down the road. The knowledge that you are not alone and that what you are suffering is not unique can be a powerful encouragement.

The book has not had pain, disappointment and anger sanitized out because I determined from the very beginning that if I was going to write a book about my parent’s final years, it would be an honest one. Besides, if I made a bunch of stuff up, my mother would come back from the grave and haunt me forever.

But for those of you who loved my parents, you will not be disappointed in this behind the curtains glimpse into their lives. They were consistent to the end. They never betrayed their faith. They indeed finished well.

Just a note to members of my family…Christmas is coming so give Santa a chance to do his thing!

The Rolling Stone and UVA

When I saw that Rolling Stone magazine had written a story about UVA I didn’t know what to think. There was a time when I read Rolling Stone, mostly back when P.J. O’Rourke wrote travel articles for them. But ever since I and Rolling Stone stopped caring about Rock and Roll, I stopped caring about Rolling Stone.

I saw it first on my nephew’s Facebook wall and then discovered that it was everywhere. It was a long and well written piece about a freshman who goes to a frat party, gets gang raped and then literally nothing happens. I won’t repeat all of the article here. I’ll just assume that you’ve read it. But if you haven’t, do yourself a favor and take the time to read the piece…now.

First of all, as someone who has attended a few frat parties back in the day, I should point out that UVA is certainly not unique when it comes to frat-boy debauchery. Although I never witnessed, let alone participated in, anything approaching the happenings at Phi Kappa Psi, there were stories. On one occasion there were photographs. Back then even as a fun-loving, thrill-seeking 20 year old, they were sickening. Today, as a father, I am enraged.

The part of the article that has done the enraging isn’t the actual crime as much as the reaction to the crime by the victims' three “friends.” After finding their friend, who had just been repeatedly raped for over 3 hours by a cowardly band of eight attackers, their biggest concern isn’t for her safety and protection. No, no. They stand there beside their shaking traumatized friend and contemplate what this might mean for future invitations to frat parties for them if they actually take her to the hospital and report this attack to the authorities! Later in the story, after our victim has spent weeks isolating herself from everyone in her dorm, a girl is quoted offering this terrifying opinion, “You’re still upset about that? Why didn’t you just have fun with it…all those hot Phi Kappa Psi guys?”

Civilization, culture, polite society, are words we use to describe what we like to think is a more enlightened existence than our forbearers in less advanced times had to endure. In truth, these words serve as a thin veneer with which we paint over the ugliness of our hearts. We flatter ourselves by thinking that human beings have evolved beyond paganism. What I read in that article was essentially describing the lawless, hedonistic pursuit of pleasure fancied up in pearls.

There exists nowhere in the mind of any rational person an excuse for this type of behavior. If I hear one more dissertation about how the girl should have known what she was getting herself into, or those boys were just acting out what they see in pornography, I’m going to throw up. Oh, the poor, confused young things! Bullshit. No one in that dark room at the Phi Kappa Psi frat house was confused about anything. They knew exactly what they were doing and also that they would get away with it. Virginia’s finest.

People today roll their eyes whenever anyone starts talking about morality and virtue, as if these things no longer have a place in our newly liberated, values-free culture whose only surviving virtue seems to be tolerance. But perhaps it might be time to revisit centuries old virtues like honor and respect. Maybe it’s a mistake to cast the word judgmental on the scrap heap of history. I make no apologies for being judgmental. I have looked at the behavior of these frat boys and I am ready to declare my judgment that they are worthless pagans who should all be sentenced to life in prison for what used to be called “rape” in this country.

We need to stop kidding ourselves. Our advanced civilization…is neither advanced, nor civil.

What Would a White Riot Look Like?

My kids are coming home for Thanksgiving. Kaitlin and Jon will be on the highways and Patrick will be on an airplane. All of them will arrive in Short Pump near midnight. We will enjoy a few days together. It will be wonderful but will seem rushed. Then they will leave us as abruptly as they arrived. It is the new normal.

We should be thankful that they come home at all, and we are. I was talking with a friend recently whose kids live in Texas and Oregon, so South Carolina and Tennessee seem like a blessing. Then there are those friends whose kids have settled in foreign lands from Dubai to Thailand. In other words, we have no right to complain. But that doesn’t mean we don’t.

A few thoughts before the weekend:

One of my favorite commentators, Kevin Williamson, has suggested that the IRS needs a slogan and has offered up a couple of suggestions…

We have what it takes, to take what you have!

Somebody’s gotta do it!

To which I might suggest…We harass more people by 6am than other agencies do all day!

This weekend will probably bring an announcement by the grand jury in Ferguson, Missouri. Most observers seem to believe that Officer Darren Wilson will be acquitted, unleashing God knows what in that beleaguered community. I think it’s interesting that I haven’t been able to find one story, one opinion that suggests what might happen if Officer Wilson is found guilty. Will the pro-Wilson forces take to the streets torching businesses and stocking up on big screen TVs and Bud Lite? Will the white citizens of Ferguson unleash their pent up rage by destroying private businesses? Why is rioting and looting only an understandable response to perceived injustice for the black community?

Of course, if white people were to riot and loot it would most likely look a bit different. Instead of big screen TV’s and lite beer, we would see pot-bellied white guys with crock pots and espresso machines balanced on their shoulders. White church ladies would be caught by cell phone cameras with twenty pound bags of flour and sugar under their arms and purloined copies of Good Housekeeping and Southern Living magazines stuffed in the apron pockets. There wouldn’t be one single piece of Duck Dynasty memorabilia left on the shelves in Ferguson, and good luck trying to find any Reba McEntire CDs!

The President vs. The President

Tonight, President Obama will give a prime time address to the American people on the subject of his decision to grant amnesty to up to 5 million immigrants presently in our country illegally. In doing so, he will be tasked with the difficult assignment of overcoming powerful arguments that have been made claiming that executive action without Congressional approval would be illegal and unconstitutional, claims made by…President Obama.

  March 2011: Remarks by the President Univision Townhall

"America is a nation of laws, which means I, as the President, am obligated to enforce the law. I don't have a choice about that. That's part of my job. But I can advocate for changes in the law so that we have a country that is both respectful of the law but also continues to be a great nation of immigrants. … With respect to the notion that I can just suspend deportations through executive order, that’s just not the case, because there are laws on the books that Congress has passed …. [W]e’ve got three branches of government. Congress passes the law. The executive branch’s job is to enforce and implement those laws. And then the judiciary has to interpret the laws. There are enough laws on the books by Congress that are very clear in terms of how we have to enforce our immigration system that for me to simply through executive order ignore those congressional mandates would not conform with my appropriate role as President.” 

“I swore an oath to uphold the laws on the books …. Now, I know some people want me to bypass Congress and change the laws on my own. Believe me, the idea of doing things on my own is very tempting. I promise you. Not just on immigration reform. But that's not how our system works. That’s not how our democracy functions. That's not how our Constitution is written.”

January 2013: Pres. Obama Defends Deportation Record: ‘I’m Not A King’

“I’m not a king. My job as the head of the executive branch ultimately is to carry out the law,” Obama told Telemundo. “When it comes to enforcement of our immigration laws, we’ve got some discretion. We can prioritize what we do. But we can’t simply ignore the law.”

February 2013: Obama: ‘I Am Not a Dictator’

“I can’t do these things just by myself.” He reiterated that sentiment in a February 2013 interview with Telemundo. “I’m not a king,” he said.

Of course, maybe the President is counting on the famous stupidity of the American voter to not be able to do a Goggle search and find these statements. Or, maybe since he never has to face the voters again, he's just concluded, what the heck?! Or, maybe the role of "King" has evolved.

Welcome to Al's World

He’s the one in the $5,000 Italian suits expertly tailored around his newly trimmed down 60 year old body. He’s the one who scowls angrily at the cameras one minute, then flashes a mouth full of oversized teeth at you the next.

He’s the man who recently bragged, “I’ve been able to reach from the streets to the suites!” And because he is who he is, it hasn’t cost him a dime. Welcome to Al’s World.

The Rev. Al Sharpton was recently celebrated at a lavish Manhattan restaurant birthday party attended by every prominent New York State politician the other day where everyone took turns praising the great man. Even the President sent an aide with a message to read, extoling the Reverend’s many virtues. Apparently, thrift isn’t one of them.

It would seem that the good Reverend owes the Internal Revenue Service some $4,500,000 in unpaid State and Federal taxes, a figure that has been growing each year. Sharpton’s non-profit organization, National Action Network has been kept afloat for years by failing to pay Federal payroll taxes on its employees.(Now that’s some Action I could get on board with!) Neither Al nor his non-profit organization have bothered to pay travel agencies, hotels or a long list of landlords for years. Despite this penchant for welching on his debts, the lavish birthday bash at the Four Seasons was paid for by a long list of corporations that for reasons unknown are not troubled by his history of serial freeloading.

I bring this up because in just a few days the grand jury down in Ferguson will render their verdict, and if it doesn’t contain a conviction, that luckless town will go up in flames. Then Al will show up, a gaggle of cameras in his face recording the rhyming rage coming forth from his mouth. The Reverend will no doubt be in high dudgeon about how poorly African-Americans are treated, about how the system is out to get them and how the burning buildings in Ferguson are a just and understandable reaction to years of ill-treatment at the hands of the privileged white establishment.

When speaking this way, he will be referring of course to the great unwashed African-American population, not the Al Sharptons of the world. I’m almost positive that if Doug Dunnevant had somehow managed to amass a 4.5 million dollar bill for back taxes, my white skin wouldn’t stand a chance of saving my ass from the heavy hand of the IRS legal team. My prison cell would be the last on the left, right across from Hannibal Lecter. I mean, Al Capone got away with murder, extortion, bribery, and racketeering, but couldn’t fight the taxman. How does Sharpton manage it?

Becoming a race hustler and poverty pimp was obviously an astute career move for Al Sharpton. It’s Al’s world. The rest of us are just living in it.

2014 Christmas List

We have now officially reached the middle of November. This can only mean one thing—the unholy alliance between Christmas and Capitalism is upon us. For the next 38 days we will be bombarded by land, air and sea with relentless marketing extoling the virtues of conspicuous consumption. From the ubiquitous sales fliers crammed into our mailboxes to the carpet bombing Walmart television ad campaigns, there will be no escape from the Gekkoesque message, “greed is good!”

Pam needled me the other day about my Christmas list. She does this every year. I am always the last one in the family to attach my list to Dunnevant Christmas Central, our famous family Christmas website. Secretly, this is my form of silent protest, but partly it’s because I have a hard time coming up with a list of things that I want. Listen, I’m 56 years old. Most of the things that I still “want” cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. I mean, I suppose I could put, “a lake house in Maine” on my list but what good would that do? So, each year I sit at my computer trying to come up with a Christmas list and each year it gets snarkier and snarkier. Who could forget 2011’s request for a Santa PEZ dispenser followed by “a capital gains tax cut?” Or how about 2012’s plaintive plea for “better spelling skills?” I can report that I did in fact receive the new fingernail clippers that I so daringly asked for in 2013.

This year, my list will be even harder to write what with all of the turmoil in the world today. It’s hard to prioritize a wish list while watching Bill Cosby implode right before your eyes.  Asking for a year’s supply of beef jerky seems rather petty while the country is poised a heartbeat away from a Joe Biden Presidency. But, it’s November the 17^th and I either do this now or face the wrath of Pam for the next month. Sigh….

So, without any further delay, here is my 2014 Christmas List:

1.     A new coffee maker

2.     Overnight success as a published author

3.     New exotic coffee beans from Central America, Jamaica, or South America

4.     New set of golf clubs

5.     Lake house in Maine

6.     A man or women of raw intelligence, common sense and actual accomplishment to run for President in 2016

7.     Gift certificate to Men’s Warehouse

8.     Gift certificate to Patient First

9.     A grandchild

10.   A less cynical outlook on life

11.     A new stylish suit

12.     A cool hat. (third year in a row for this)

13.    A really nice modern looking but not too ostentatious…watch

14.      Underwear

15.  Dress socks

Old and Stupid

The arrival of my new cell phone has unleashed a flurry of glitches that make the Obamacare website debacle look like a miracle of innovation. It’s so complicated I can’t even find the words to describe the trouble. It has something to do with my failure to back up my old phone to the cloud, the fact that I have too many pictures and videos, and maybe something to do with not having enough storage capability. Whatever it is, we are now on our third setup regime and I am temporarily phone-less.

This is always how it is with me and new stuff. There is always a glitch, usually multiple glitches. I am always left feeling old and stupid by the process. Once it all gets fixed I am happy with the new thing. But while my wife is at her happiest upon being presented with a new technological devise, I feel nothing except apprehension, a great disturbance in my sense of well-being.

One of the first strategies we employed yesterday to try to fix the phone was to go through all my videos and erase the ones I could live without. As it turned out I found that I could live without almost all of them, one in particular.

Most of the videos were of Lucy doing something puppyish that I thought was adorable at the time, but now that she has done the same thing a thousand times…not so much. There were videos of Nationals Park and Camden Yards, scenic vistas of the Shenandoah Valley, that sort of thing. Then I stumbled upon a video I took of my dad maybe a week before he passed away. I had gone over to the nursing home one night and was feeding him some ice cream. At the time I thought he was having a very good day and I wanted to take a video to send to Linda to encourage her. When I pushed “play” I was shocked at how weak and feeble he looked. Why on Earth had I thought that he was having a “good” day? I suppose that near the end this was good. I immediately deleted the thing and fought back a wave of tears suddenly welling up inside me. That’s not the way I want to remember him.

So, thanks Apple for forcing me to stumble upon such a depressing memory!

Stupid technology!