Life Without Labels

Words and ideas, like fashion, fall out of favor over time. Bell bottom jeans used to be a thing. Now, jeans are mostly skinny. Having a gay old time might carry a different meaning today than it did when it was a lyric to the Flintstone’s theme song. The term fiscal conservative used to carry real meaning. Over time the meaning of words can change, turning once innocuous expressions into loaded, fighting words. But, just because the public perception of a word, phrase or idea may change, that doesn’t mean I have to like it. There are times that I want to reclaim the English language, to rescue it from its bastardized torment. However, this is a job which is much bigger than I am. So for now I can only wish that certain words didn’t carry around such baggage...

I want to enjoy the benefits of wealth without being thought of as wealthy.

I want to live out my Christian faith without being considered religious.

I would like to advocate for a less intrusive and oppressive government without being labeled a conservative Republican.

I would like to support a more humane and compassionate immigration policy without being branded a liberal Democrat.

I would like to enjoy golf without it being assumed that I must be a member of a country club.

I wish to continue reading tons of books every year without being thought a book nerd.

I would like to be more careful about what I eat without becoming a food Nazi.

I want to continue to work out and take care of my body without succumbing to vanity.

I want to experience the wisdom that comes with age without getting old.

I want to develope greater empathy for others without turning myself into an easy mark.

I want to demand professionalism and accountability from law enforcement without being accused of being anti-police.

I want to be able to condemn lawlessness, violence and thuggery wherever it exists without being called a racist.

I want to continue to be an unrepentant baseball fan without being dismissed as old school.

I believe that wanting American troops brought home from their foolish deployments isn’t the same thing as isolationism.

I want to cultivate more generosity in my life without becoming a spendthrift.

I want to strive for consistency without it turning into stubbornness.

Desiring to keep more of my hard earned money instead of having it confiscated by the government does not mean I’m greedy.

The Search Begins

Yes baseball fans, it’s that time of year again, time to get past the last remaining hurdle before the full throated beginning of spring training...Valentines Day. Long time readers of this blog will recall my checkered past with respect to this particular day. I have shared with you many times my epic romantic failures down through the years, including but not limited to...my many card shopping difficulties:

https://doug-thetempest.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-card.html

And...

https://doug-thetempest.blogspot.com/2017/02/me-and-george.html

This year will be no different. Although I have already purchased her gifts, I have been putting off card shopping, delaying the inevitable as long as humanly possible. Even though I figure that my chances of buying her the exact same card as she buys me again are infinitesimal, that does not mean that I’m not capable of some other ghastly choice. I must remain vigilant against complacency. If I let my guard down for even a second, I might come home with one of those seven page pop up cartoon cards and all will be lost!

Of course, this Valentines Day is more fraught with peril than most because it happens to coincide with Yoga Night, and you know what that means. Yes, I’m in charge of dinner. I think it safe to say that jambalaya will not be on the menu. I will take special care in seeing to it that dinner consists of something besides starches. No rice and rice combinations, no bean soup with a side of baked beans. I’ve learned that lesson.

Here’s the thing...as hard as Valentines Day is to pull off, my wife is so worth my best effort. Even after 33 years, she’s still the most enchanting, unfathomable woman in the world to me. I still feel compelled to try my best to impress her lest she wake up with a start and realize she has made a horrible mistake! So, over the next couple of days I will rummage through the poetic offerings at Hallmark looking for some combination of Shakespearean sonnet and Lord Byron love verse suitable for such a woman. 

Wish me luck!

Should We Have a Military Parade?

Our President has made it known that he wants to have a military parade in the nation’s capital. When he recently visited France, he was greatly impressed by their Bastille Day parade. It has been suggested that he wants one in Washington to demonstrate his commitment and admiration for the military. His opponents claim baser motives, suggesting that the parade idea is just another manifestation of his authoritarian instincts. What to make of all this?

It has been true in my lifetime that the countries with the grandest military parades have been authoritarian regimes...the Soviet Union, China and North Korea. But it is also true that several democratic countries have military parades, France and Great Britain. It is equally true that we have had a few of these parades over the years. Harry Truman threw one after the end of WWII, John Kennedy during the Cold War, and most recently, George H. W. Bush back in 1991 to celebrate the end of a war we are still fighting. But in America, military parades have been the exception rather than the rule.

Some of the criticism that the parade is getting is hypocritical horse s**t. Democrats and some Republicans complaining about the cost of such a parade make me want to throw up. Seriously? A bunch of people who just voted for trillion dollar deficits for all of eternity have the nerve to complain about how much something, anything costs??? I’m sorry, but anyone on board with this ghastly two year budget deal has lost all credibility on matters of public finance. Also, those who claim that having a military parade in America would put us on the same moral plane as the North Koreans are silly idiots. Having an occasional parade as an expression of gratitude for our nation’s military is not an abandonment of democracy for God’s sake. Chill out, people.

Having said all of this, I would prefer that we not have a parade for a variety of reasons. First, Senator John Kennedy from Louisiana (no relation) said it well, Strength is silent, Insecurities are loud. But, my instincts on this subject were best articulated by the former Navy Seal, Robert O’Neil...the guy who killed Osama bin Laden...A military parade is third world bulls**t. We prepare, we deter, we fight. Stop this conversation.

This is the crux of the matter for me. When our President sat with French President Macron and watched the French military marching by he saw grand uniforms with ostentatious displays of feathers and flourishes, colorful plumes and thousand dollar swords. In other words, he was watching soldiers who are best known for killer uniforms, not...actual killing. Even the dress uniforms of the American soldier can’t come close to the finery on display in Paris. That’s because our military is an actual working military. We rightly honor our military on Veteran’s Day with countless small town parades. We remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice on Memorial Day, as we should. Do we need a bunch of military hardware up and down Pennsylvania Avenue? I don’t think so.

This is not an issue which I am inclined to lose a lot of sleep over. If the parade happens, that’s fine. It just strikes me as unnecessary and a bit out of character for a country with the most powerful military on the planet. The very reason we do not need a parade is the fact that we have the military we have. 

Silence is strength.

Doug Makes Dinner

As many of you know, Wednesday night here at The Dunnevant house has always been a night fraught with culinary risk. This is the night where I am tasked with preparing dinner. My wife has a Yoga class that doesn’t let out until 7:30, so it’s my job on this one night to have dinner on the table when she gets home. Generally it works this way...Pam picks out something for me to make, does most of the groundwork in advance, stages everything on the counter with easy, often moronically simple written instructions, then leaves me to it. Well, yesterday I was feeling oddly adventurous, and when she asked me if there was anything in particular that I wanted to make, I replied..How about you let me do dinner by myself? I’ll plan a menu, go the grocery store and then make everything myself without any of your help! There was a pregnant pause...then she answered...Oooooo-K? The questioning intonation in her voice being no accident.

It was only later when I got to the office that the folly of my actions became apparent to me. Who was I kidding? I don’t know the first thing about planning a menu. Look, I’m great at ordering takeout. I have no peer when it comes to heating up soup. But when it comes to making a dinner, my past record did not offer much in the way of confidence. Panicked, I asked my assistant for help:

Me: Kristin, I promised Pam that I would make dinner tonight myself with no help from her. What do I do??

Kristin: What were you thinking??

Me: That’s not important now...what do I do??

Kristin: Why don’t you go to the grocery store and get one of those Zatarain’s dinners? It will list everything you need right on the box.

Me: That’s genius!

So the next thing you know, there I am at Publix standing at the Zatarain’s display, when I spot this:

Score! I love jambalaya! Ever since I was a kid and lived in New Orleans for three years, I have had a fondness for anything Creole. The back of the package suggested that I add either shrimp, or sausage. I decided on both. Pam was going to be so proud of me!! Then I happened to spot this on the same aisle:

What luck! Two of my favorite foods in one meal. This was gonna be great!

When it came time to prepare the meal, I laid everything out just like my wife does, everything handy and in its spot. Then I read the first line of the instructions...pour 2 and a half cups of water into a 3 quart saucepan. Oh crap, what’s a 3 quart saucepan look like? We must have ten pans in our kitchen...which one is 3 quarts?? Quickly, I fired off a text with this picture to Kristin,(since she had been the one who had gotten me into this)...

Me: Is this a 3 quart saucepan???

Kristin: I think so...

An inauspicious beginning. But, I rallied and soon the house was filled with the aroma of Cajun spices. The best part was that I timed everything out perfectly, the rolls coming out of the oven the very second that Pam walked through the door. Something smells good, she observed correctly! 

Ok...the jambalaya was very good, although a bit sticky. The red beans and rice were passable. The rolls were tasty. I was very pleased with myself. I did, however, notice that Pam wasn’t exactly devouring the feast set before her. Don’t you like it? I asked.

Then a very familiar expression came over my wife’s face. I know it well. It starts with a smile that is trying not to look dismissive. This is the look she gets when she’s about to correct me or point out some dumb thing that I have done. The smile is a disarming defense mechanism and basically means nothing. Then she says...No honey, it was very good, and it was really sweet of you to do this...

The word BUT had just taken out a full page advertisement in the Dunnevant Dispatch newspaper and was about to enter the conversation...

Pam:....but....there were no vegetables...just, like, two rice dishes and...bread....no vegetables.

Then, she broadened the smile and tilted her head to one side, and I knew that one of those bless your heart moments had arrived:

Pam: What in this world would you do without me?

So, there you have it. I had prepared the perfect meal for a third grade boy. But, on the bright side, we’ve taken care of our starch requirements for the rest of the month!

Is Winning Everything?

I watched a clip on one of the cable news shows yesterday. Actually, I found the thing while browsing through Twitter. Congressman Trey Gowdy was being interviewed about his surprising decision to leave politics and return to his former occupation as a prosecutor. Of course, the cynic in me always wonders whenever anyone decides to leave Washington, if the real reason is because A. They fear a pending defeat in the next election or B. They are being blackmailed by private scandal. Such is my low opinion of elected officials. 

In Congressman Gowdy’s case, I confess that I don’t know much about him except for his work on the House Benghazi investigation, and his odd hair style. He’s a Republican from the south so I can safely assume he is conservative. I don’t know where he stands with respect to the President. I qualify all of this because I don’t want anyone to say, Yeah but, he’s a            . So, here’s the quote that caught my ear:

...We live in a culture that values winning...but I don’t think that winning is the ultimate objective, the ultimate objective is to lead an honorable life.

No wonder he’s quitting politics!

The rest of this clip I will paraphrase. Mr. Gowdy began by giving several examples of great men from our past who lost...repeatedly, and a few who were actually killed for their unpopular, losing ways. Then he opines that process matters, and how we conduct ourselves in that process matters. With respect to our justice system he even offers the view that even a guilty person can and should go free if we violate that process. But then he compares the justice system to politics and politics comes out on the short end because in a political race it matters not whether an accusation he might make against his opponent is true, only that it works, and that it results in a win.

The late Al Davis, owner of the Oakland Raiders famously said, Just win, baby!  Vince Lombardi made famous the words, Winning isn’t everything...it’s the only thing. One of the most dreaded put downs in modern American life is the epithet, Loser. Ask any passionate sports fan and they will tell you that there is no such thing as a moral victory. I read some guy on Twitter after his team lost that losing is ...a grotesque irritant. I get it. I hate losing, always have. The question becomes, is winning so important that rules that make it harder to win should be cast aside? Some crew chief in NASCAR once made the observation that, If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying!

I cannot see into the heart of Congressman Gowdy to determine his true motivations. But...if his decision to retire from politics comes from his refusal any longer to participate in a process that elevates and rewards lawlessness and lying, then good for him. If, in his future work as a prosecutor he abides by the principle that process matters and that living an honorable life is the ultimate objective, then...double good for him. 

Widows, Orphans, and Strangers

Thirty-seven days in to reading the Bible in 90 days. Some days it’s been encouraging, other days...not so much. Some days what I read feels like wise instruction, other days like a stern rebuke. Some days I can’t even recognize the characters, they seem otherworldly and remote. But then I see someone who seems just like me, immediately familiar and identifiable. It’s very much a mixed bag.

There is one theme which has been consistently communicated from Genesis to Job. Actually, I’m sure there have been several such consistent themes, I’ve just been too obtuse to find them. But, at least I’ve caught on to one of them and that is this...God expects us to take care of the poor, provide for widows and orphans, and be kind to strangers. This message is literally all over the place, in practically every single book I’ve read so far. God takes a very dim view of people who ignore these powerless groups of people. The sins of pride and selfishness seem to be extremely high on the list of things that infuriate God Almighty.

So, we can have long, boring arguments on what care for the poor, widows and orphans should look like. We can debate the proper roll of governments in this endeavor. We can argue about whether or not the taxes we pay to fund the 21st century welfare state constitute obedience to this command, or serve to make the problems worse. Are there no poor houses?

But, setting aside the comparative virtue of Socialism vs Capitalism as the most effective poverty fighting tool, it seems to me that the one thing I am certain of is that...regardless of my political views, I find no escape from the personal responsibility I have as a child of God to care for the poor, widows and orphans, and to be kind to strangers. Period. There is no dispensation that I see from living in a country with a social safety net. Whatever collective actions governments may take in these areas, do not absolve me from my own responsibility. To whom much is given, much will be required seems the overriding theme.

When I examine my own record in this regard the results are mixed. I feel like I’ve always given generously to charities. The percentage of my income that winds up in the hands of my church and other philanthropic organizations far exceeds the national average. But, somehow I think that this is the wrong measuring device. For one thing, who ever wants to be merely average? For another, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I can do more, I can be more generous, more helpful to the less fortunate...and so can you. Examining myself with regards to how I am treating the least of these has been, so far, my number one takeaway from this Bible reading exercise.

An American Tradition

I’m a baseball guy. But I’m also an American, which means that I am a full participant in its many cultural traditions. One of the most enduring of those traditions is the Super Bowl. So, there I was last night, in front of my television, taking it all in. A few observations...

My wife isn’t a sports fan. She does enjoy the Olympics but that’s only because of the heart warming biographical vignettes that the television producers come up with about the athletes. She’s also a huge fan of the Opening Ceremonies since they are essentially fashion shows. However, despite having zero interest in the contests, she does an amazing job of preparing the game time feasts. Last night, for example, she whipped this up:

   

That’s pigs-in-a-blanket, some sort of amazing Mexican guacamole dip, and my personal favorite, baked Parmesan Pepperoni Pizza crisps. 

Pink performed the national anthem and made a hash of it. Woman was a mess. I learned later that the poor thing had the flu, so hats off to her for making the effort.

Then, a group of Medal of Honor winners were brought out to midfield for the coin toss. Very cool, but seemed a thinly veiled attempt by the NFL to make up for all the kneeling. But, whatever.

Then, the game. Having no rooting interest makes for a dull experience. So, I just relaxed and tried to enjoy watching terrific athletes doing their thing on such an enormous stage. Nick Foles, the career backup, slugging it out against the G.O.A.T. The first half featured neither defense making a single play. On 4th and goal from the two yard line, with time running out, the Eagles ran a trick play for the ages for a touchdown. Coolest play and gutsiest call ever.

Then the halftime show. Here, I must be careful. My wife is constantly criticizing me for the fact that my musical tastes haven’t  evolved since my college days, in fact, she would argue that they have regressed. (She considers the fact that I remain devoted to the Beatles, and Frank Sinatra, a personal failing). Anyway, all week, the advertisements for the halftime show assured me that Justin Timberlake was a global superstar. As I watched him prancing around on the field I asked my much hipper wife whether he was a singer, a dancer, or a rapper...to which she answered, Yes. My review? He was energetic, enthusiastic, handsome...and I’m sure there was a song in there somewhere.

One of the great charms of the Super Bowl has always been the commercials. For some, they are more enjoyable than the game itself. In past years there have been some classics. I watched this year’s offerings in a state of befuddlement. Half the time I couldn’t figure out what they were trying to sell, the other half left me with the distinct impression that the American advertisement industry has run out of ideas. The best ones were the ones that told stories of the great courage of ordinary people in times of crisis, but then at the end when you would see, say, the Verizon logo, you would recoil and think, eww...when was the last time Verizon did anything heroic?? Until you guys can figure out how to show up for a service call on time, get off your moral high horse!

Back to the game. Everything was set up for yet another bedtime story for Tom Brady’s future grandkids. The Patriots get the ball with two minutes to play, down by six. Tom drives them down the field and throws the winning touchdown pass with no time left on the clock. Cue shot of Gisele crying tears of joy in her luxury box. But then a defensive player finally made a play, stripping Brady of the ball and sealing the upset victory for the Eagles. Good for them.

For me, the very best thing about the Super Bowl is the fact that it’s conclusion marks the official beginning of....baseball. Pitchers and catchers report for spring training in ten days!