Meet The New Terrorists.

As of 6:35 am on Friday April the 19^th, we know that the Boston Marathon bombings are the work of two Chechen brothers. The eldest was killed by Boston police in the wee hours this morning, with the youngest, one Dzhokhar Tsarnaez, 19 still at large. We know little if anything about their motivation. We know nothing about whether this was meant as some political statement, or just the work of two homesick kids longing to recreate life back in their beloved Chechnya. You remember Chechnya, right? That troubled district of the old Soviet Union which fought and won a bloody war with Moscow in the early 90’s for independence, then fought and lost another war ten years later. The Chechens were known for their ruthless tactics and seemingly self-destructive tendencies, willing to take ten blows in order to deliver one. Oh, and the population of Chechnya is 90% Sunni Muslim, so there’s that.

So, other than the fact that his name would make one heck of play in Words With Friends, we know nothing about this boy. But knowing nothing is very different than saying nothing. The one thing that the Boston tragedy has taught me is that modern journalism means never having to say you’re sorry. A news network can now make any claim they wish, and no matter how spectacularly wrong they turn out to be, nobody loses their job. Fog of war and all I suppose. In this they are assisted mightily by the internet, which in the first ten minutes after the first explosion had already posited a thousand theories about the motivation of the bombers since it was obviously the work of redneck Tea Party militia groups pissed off about tax day. Or maybe it was illegal Mexican immigrants who had flooded over our porous southern border, taking a break from becoming registered Democrats, or perhaps just your garden variety Islamic terrorist trying to bring back the glory days of the 5^th century. No matter what the truth turned out to be, the narrative had already been written and published.

But, I never saw the prediction that it would end up being a couple of Chechen brothers, which just goes to show you that life is full of surprises. There will always be an aggrieved group somewhere flying under the radar waiting for their big chance to inflict carnage on free people. So, now we can expect a series of editorials from the New York Times…”The Chechens. Why Do They Hate Us?”  Our policemen will be warned not to engage in Chechen profiling. Incidents of violence against Chechen-Americans will become epidemic. Some Congressman will call for a boycott of all imported Chechen products only to discover that Chechnya exports nothing…but Chechens. Noam Chomsky will publish a pamphlet entitled, “America’s Shameful History of Chechnya-Hatred”.

Meet the new threat. Same as the old threat.

Bad News About Molly

Pam and I got the bad news yesterday that Molly has a rather advanced malignant carcinoma. We were told to keep her comfortable as long as we can, but that at some point very soon, we will have to make the decision to put her down.

I have thought of little else since. For the most part, Molly has been able to keep her condition from us, showing few outward signs of distress. In hindsight it does explain some things. We just thought that her refusal to climb stairs, and her occasional bathroom accidents were just because she was getting old. Now we know just how sick she has been. Despite the cancer, she still eats well, still wags her tail with delight at the slightest morsel of attention she gets from us, still looks at us with those wet brown eyes full of love and loyalty. It’s hard to believe that she is dying.

So, we will watch her carefully, and cherish each day she has left. Thirteen years ago on Christmas Eve, I laid on the floor at Gayton Animal Hospital and held my first Golden Retriever, Murphy, as the vet put him to sleep. He had been with us 14 years. It was one of the saddest moments of my life. Molly will be different. I don’t know that I have ever loved an animal more than I love Molly. Although in 11 years she has never once uttered a word to me, we have communicated in a thousand other ways. She has a powerful intuition about all of us, she senses when we are upset, knows when something isn’t right and instinctively comes to our rescue with a nudge of her cold wet nose, or with a ball in her mouth. It’s the sort of presence that can’t be replaced.

God knows how hard our lives can be on this earth, he knows that there will be periods of depression and hopelessness for all of us. So, he allows us the privilege of a dog. When we experience their unconditional love and devotion we are reminded that things will get better. When I look at Molly I sincerely hope to become half as good a man as she thinks I am.

Boston

Like everyone else, I was glued to the television yesterday around 5 in the afternoon. I had gotten home from work when I noticed the voice of Brian Williams of NBC news from the corner of my family room. The screen was filled with chaotic, screaming people running around through thick plumes of white smoke. It took five minutes or so to piece together what had happened, that someone had set off two bombs within yards of the finish line of the Boston marathon, right across the street from the Westin Hotel at Copley Place where I had stayed the last time I was in that city, two years ago. There was an aerial shot of the sidewalk covered in blood; there was footage of bleeding victims being whisked about in wheel chairs. Literally before the blood on the sidewalk had even dried there was a former Congressman from Boston telling us that this tragedy was evidence of why we need a robust and fully funded government saying, “No tax cut could ever help us recover from this.” Nicholas Kristof, a columnist from the New York Times took the opportunity to blame Republicans for not approving President Obama’s nominee for Director of the ATF. More than one MSNBC talking head made the observation that this was April 15, tax day, and also Patriot’s Day, very important days for “militia groups” around the country. You know, just sayin’.

We live in a time where everything is politicized. I have no doubt that if those responsible prove to be from Iran, Republicans will use that fact to push us to embark on yet another Middle Eastern misadventure. If the bombers end up being from some environmentalist, or Occupy Wall Street affiliated group, conservatives will rail against the administration for being “soft on liberal hate groups”. If, on the other hand, the guilty parties end up being from some Tea Party, or anti-government militia group or even worse, a white-supremacist group, the left in this country, along with 90% of the media will eagerly pile on, blaming Rush Limbaugh, Fox News, etc…

I have no idea who was responsible for placing two bombs in two trash cans loaded with ball bearings designed to kill and maim as many innocent people as possible. In fact, I don’t even need to know WHO did it, to know that it was evil and reprehensible.  No political cause can justify it; there exist no extenuating circumstances that can condone it. It is simply the act of a deranged and despicable mind. To attempt as some have to score political points, or to use this nightmare to advance a political agenda, is as predictable as it is infuriating. But for the good of the country, my hope is that the murderer is one of us. My biggest fear is that if it turns out to be some Al Qieda nutjob, we will get drawn in to another whack-a-mole war somewhere in the vast wasteland that is the Middle East. Enough already.

What...ME Worry??

One of the many benefits of keeping a journal is that it serves as a history book. Although, history books written by those who lived through it aren’t the most reliable accounts, since they are inherently biased, they are useful in other ways. For one, it allows you to realize how cyclical are the vicissitudes of life, and how wise and true are the words from Ecclesiastes, “There is nothing new under the sun.”

I was wondering recently how this blog would read ten years from now. Would I laugh to read how upset and worried I was about some news item from 2013 that ended up being nothing at all to worry about? Would I shake my head in astonishment at how much I fretted about inconsequential things? Would I wonder why I never mentioned other things that ended up being much more critical? As an experiment, I dug through my old journals and found entries from 2003, and 1993. Here’s what I found.

In 1993 I had two children less than seven years old, I worked a lot harder, never worried about politics, and seemed much more spiritually minded. My journal entries were mostly about the difficulties of being a parent, the wild and capricious nature of my business, and the daily struggles of being a Christian. I was much more connected to the church then through a Sunday school class and various Bible Study fellowships. The entries were less sarcastic, with less jaded opinion and more charity to my fellow man.

By 2003, my children were teenagers, and my every spare moment seemed to be consumed by the latest happenings in the youth group at Grove. My comments about work and the world seemed more anxious. The daily gyrations of the stock market were a subject of frustrated fascination, and I seemed much less interested in “the church”, and much more interested in “the kids”.

One thing that was consistent in both of these random years was that there were always things to worry about, and probably 90% of the things I feared the most ended up never happening, or if they did, the consequences proved to be much less catastrophic than I had feared. The biggest difference between today and my writings from ten and twenty years ago seems to be the fact that back then, I worried almost exclusively about things that directly affected me or my children. Now I tend to worry about larger, philosophical things, existential things, and political things much more than I ever did before. Maybe that’s because I’m not as worried about how my kids are going to turn out, they seem to have turned out quite well after all, so I have to worry about something else. Maybe things are worse now in the world, or maybe I’m so bombarded with news of how worse the world is that it consumes me more than it did twenty years ago before the internet and cable news.

The lesson I take from this experiment is that no matter where I am in life, there will always be things to worry about and almost none of them will end up coming to pass. Maybe all of us need to lighten up, and enjoy the day in front of us since it’s the only one we’ve got.

My Sick Dog

Before I begin today’s blog, can I just say how horribly tedious the internet can be? I just got finished reading a review of the newly released movie, “42”, the story of Jackie Robinson’s rookie year in the majors. I have been waiting for this film for what feels like years now. The story of Jackie Robinson is essentially the story of America coming to grips with the darkness of racism, and the dignified grace of a true trailblazer and one of this country’s finest athletes. The reviewer loved it and I can’t wait to see it. Then I noticed that there were 75 comments to follow. I made the mistake of wading in to this anonymous cess-pool of ignorance, and any good feelings I might have had from reading the review were destroyed by the idiotic, but totally predictable statements. Instead of a robust discussion of Jackie’s struggles, his friendship with Pee Wee Reese, or the complicated motivations of owner Branch Rickey, I was treated to a cat fight between those blaming all liberals for the destruction of the black family, to those blaming all conservatives for the slave trade( I kid you not!). You know what? How about I just stop reading comment threads?

My dog is sick, in fact, she’s a hot mess. We recently noticed some swelling in her back legs, along with some difficulty she is having urinating. Her appetite isn’t as voracious as usual, her eyes are itchy, and now her rear end has started to swell. So we got a rare Saturday appointment at the Vet. Molly was poked and prodded, blood samples were taken, and other tests were run. Through it all she was an angel, only barking whenever anyone entered the front door of the building making the doorbell ring! Like I said, she’s a mess. There are some troubling bumps under her armpits which the Vet suggested might be tick-born, a reaction to being on Prednisone all of her life or…cancer. We won’t know anything until Monday, when she goes back for a follow up. We have some new medicines to give her for the swelling and the pain that she must be in from the looks of it. When the bill came to “only” $235, I was thrilled, which should tell you something about how much money we have spent keeping this dog well all of these years. But if I had it to do all over again I would spend every penny…and more.

Molly has pried her way into the heart of my family since the very first day we brought her home as a puppy 11 years ago. It’s hard to imagine any dog who has had a cushier life, or any dog who has been so universally adored by everyone she meets. Her gentleness, and genuine love of people and their attentions is the stuff of legend. Hundreds of teenagers from Grove, college students from Cedarville and Belmont have fallen under her spell. As someone who has had a dog for nearly all of my 55 years, I can say without contradiction that Molly is both the most intelligent and most obedient dog I have ever owned, an extraordinarily rare combination.

I will do whatever I have to do to prolong her life as long as that life is pain free and she is happy. It will cost whatever it will cost. Some things are more important than money.

What To Make Of Gun Control

Four months after the Newtown shootings, the lions of the Senate have finally gotten down to a floor debate on “gun control” legislation. For four months we have been treated to one staged photo op after another, both sides trotting out their expert witnesses, grieving parents being manipulated, NRA warnings of black helicopters coming for our guns. So, what to make of it all?

A disclaimer: I do not own a fire arm, no shot gun, no rifle, no hand gun, although I do own a Daisy Powerline 35 BB gun which I use with deadly effect on the marauding band of squirrels that constantly harass my back yard. I do believe that the 2^nd Amendment to our constitution means what it says, that citizens have a right to keep and bear arms. I also believe that our country has changed radically since that Amendment was conceived, and whether or not it is still applicable in a modern police state is a fair question.

As I understand the proposed legislation, high capacity magazines(more than 10 rounds) will be outlawed, and universal background checks will be required on all sales of guns, even at gun shows etc. Private sales between individuals would be exempt in a compromise deal reached between Joe Manchin and Pat Toomey, the senators from West Virginia and Pennsylvania.

First of all, if you believe that this proposal will do anything to prevent another Newtown, you are delusional. This law wouldn’t even have prevented…Newtown, much less the NEXT Newtown. Why do politicians do this to us, provoke the entire country into apoplectic rage over a law that will change NOTHING, and have zero impact on crime? Because, when something terrible happens, when the illusion of control evaporates, when we are all forced to stare evil in the face, the democratic response is always to “do something”. We must pass some law in the conceit that it will magically transform our character. In a nation with roughly 250,000,000 guns in circulation, the chances that one of them will wind up in the hands of some psychopath is virtually a sure thing. Any law that falls short of confiscating all privately owned firearms is tilting at windmills and every Senator in DC knows it, so why all the histrionics over background checks? Ahh yes, the slippery slope. Give an inch on background checks, and before you know it, there will be a national gun registry, and as sure as day follows night, some jack-booted fascist from the government will bash in my door and separate me from my Daisy Powerline 35. Well, they’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead fingers…no wait, maybe not; I still have that sling shot from high school.

In a sane world, no one would object to a background check before being allowed to purchase a gun. Jeeze, I have to sign a million forms to buy a car and nobody bats an eye. Most people would agree that there is a legitimate roll for government to play in this since guns have the power of life and death. The problem is that our trust and faith in government has been so eroded by their incompetence, and sheer stupidity that no one feels good about granting them the tools needed to get the job done. Frankly, the government has no one to blame but themselves in this regard.

So, pass the law or not, it will change nothing on the ground, but no matter, a campaign issue will have been manufactured, and the fund raising letters will start to fly.

My April Fool's Scorecard For 2013

April Fool’s Day is the one day on the calendar each year where my natural personality characteristics are mainstreamed and magically become acceptable. For a world class practical joker it is a one day vacation, something close to what a nine year old child feels on Christmas morning. Last year was the great Year of Jubilee for my officmates since the 1^st of April fell on the Lord’s Day. But this year, I was loaded for bear, courtesy of a care package that arrived from my sainted niece from California. I was actually away from the office on April the first, but everyone knows that there’s a seven day grace period since it’s actually April Fool’s Week if you take the time to study the ancient manuscripts in the original Greek and Hebrew.

In previous years my pranks have consisted of most of the old reliables, Vaseline on door knobs, toothpaste on white toilet seats, rigged showers of orange ping pong balls, cloves of garlic implanted in the mouthpieces of phones, that sort of thing. But life is about change, and with the explosion of technological advances, pranks need to be brought into the 21^st century. So, this year I went high-tech.

Victim #: 1

There’s a guy in my office who is terrible on the computer. Frankly, none of us are very good with them, but this one guy really struggles. So, I slipped this cool device into one of the ports on the side of his laptop that plays amazing tricks on its victim at random times. Suddenly, the all caps feature engages, or random words start typing themselves, and then the mouse stops working all together. He was having a fit trying to get into his banking website, cursing his computer and basically going nuts. It was everything I could do to keep from busting out laughing. The next morning I broke the news to him that he would not be needed a new computer after all. Classic!

Victims #2&3:

I placed a small quarter-sized device with a magnetic back inside the credenza drawer of one of my colleagues’ desks. About every 3-4 minutes this device would whisper in a very creepy male voice, “Hey, can you hear me?” It helped tremendously that this particular colleague was a girl. She began tearing through her desks trying to find the voice but since it only whispered at random times several minutes apart it was hard to find. When she did find it she slammed it down on my desk and said in a very disrespectful tone of voice, “You are so juvenile!!”

Next I placed the same device in her sister’s desk with similar results except that this one couldn’t find it and begged me to remove it since it was freaking her out. Honestly, I couldn’t remember where I had stashed the thing, but I eventually found it. Next I replaced the creepy voice thing with one that emits small computerized-sounding, high pitched beeps at random and variously timed intervals. (why don’t these people lock their doors??). All in all, it was a great day.

Maybe it wasn’t up to my previous standards, like the year I hung everything that had been sitting on a desk or credenza in someone’s office from the ceiling on long ropes made out of duct tape. This lucky person was chosen for this honor since it was her first year in the business, and her first year around me on April Fool’s Day. Come to think of it, she was the one who accused me of being juvenile. The great thing about that particular gag was the fact that when she opened the door to her office she had her cousin with her and was giving him a tour of her office! The look on her face when the door flew open was priceless. Juvenile indeed!!

So, the year 2013 has brought April Fool’s Day antics into the digital age. The mind boggles at the possibilities for the future!