How Dad Are You??

I have heard it said that every day teaches a lesson. Here are some from yesterday:

When its your turn to volunteer at Hope Thrift but your back is still giving you problems, so you decide to go anyway with the condition that you “can’t lift anything,” ....you probably shouldn’t have gone at all. It is virtually impossible to be any help to anyone at a thrift store if you can’t lift anything. It was pathetic basically, me asking women to move this or haul that while customers gave me the side eye, wondering what the heck is wrong with this guy, His arm broke or something?? So, what did I do all afternoon? Well, I rearranged the book shelves, which were horribly picked through and disheveled. I broke down cardboard boxes to put in the recycling dumpster, and generally shuffled around asking customers if they needed help finding anything, hoping that they wouldn’t ask me to lift something. If it was a paying job I would have owed the store a couple hundred bucks!

Last night it occurred to me that I have never in my entire life had a bad dish of shrimp and grits. That is not the same thing as saying that all shrimp and grits are created equal, but rather that it seems virtually impossible to screw it up. In that way its akin to the fact that nobody can screw up a BLT. There are dishes that I gravitate to when at restaurants. My wife will tell you that when I don’t see anything I like on a menu I simply read the descriptions of each dish and pick the one that features the word sausage prominently. Another rule of thumb when eating at a restaurant for the first time is to order one of two dishes if they appear on the menu...jambalaya or shrimp and grits. That way I know I won’t be disappointed. Again, some places are better than others. But simply no such thing as bad shrimp and grits. Last night it was Tarrant’s West. Delicious.

The same cannot be said for Dad Jokes. Some days are very much better than others...

Do What Zog Do

Teacher Arrested At Pearson Airport 

A high school teacher was arrested today at Toronto's Pearson Airport as he attempted to board a flight while in possession of a ruler, a protractor, a compass, a slide-rule and a calculator.

At a press conference, Premier Kathleen Wynne said she believes the man is a member of the notorious extremist Al-Gebra movement. 

She did not identify the man, who has been charged by the OPP with carrying weapons of maths instruction. 

'Al-Gebra is a problem for us', the Premier said. 'They derive solutions by means and extremes, and sometimes go off on tangents in search of absolute values.' They use secret code names like "X" and "Y" and refer to themselves as "unknowns"; but we have determined that they belong to a common denominator of the axis of medieval with coordinates in every country. As the Greek philosopher Isosceles used to say, "There are three sides to every triangle." 

When asked to comment on the arrest, Prime Minister Trudeau said, "If God had wanted us to have better weapons of maths instruction, He would have given us more fingers and toes." 

Fellow Liberal colleagues told reporters they could not recall a more intelligent or profound statement by any Prime Minister.

Have a great weekend everyone and remember...always do what Zog do.

Stuck In My Head

Today’s blog will be about one of the annoying particulars of the human mind...getting a song stuck in your head. How does it happen? WHY does it happen, and how does one make it stop?

First, on the subject of how it happens, most of you are thinking it happens when you hear the song on the radio. Most of the time, I would agree. But this particular song has been in my head for over 24 hours now and I did not hear it on the radio. I didn’t hear it referred to in conversation and I didn’t even read about it in a story. I was just plugging along at work and the song popped into my head out of the cold blue. To make matters infinitely worse, the song in question was maybe my all time least favorite hit song of all time, a song that I used to hate with an unhealthy passion when it was all the rage on AM radio back when I was 13 years old. Yes, I am speaking of that most annoying pop standard from 1971...Joy to the World by Three Dog Night.

Jeremiah was a bullfrog, was a good friend of mine indeed! The first line tells you all you need to know about what kind of drugs they were on when they wrote this dreck.

I never understood a single word he said...Well, that makes 20 million of us.

Then there’s the insipid chorus...Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea...Perhaps under the influence of acid the plural of fish can be anything you want it to be.

If I were the King of the World, tell you what I’d do....I can tell you what I would do...ban this song from the airwaves forever.

In the last verse, the writer informs us that he is a high life flyer and a rainbow rider. Today, there are entire rehab facilities dedicated to this problem.

So, you can imagine how annoying it has been for me, ruminating over these lyrics for the past 24 hours, and I’m quite sure that dedicating an entire blogpost to it hasn’t done me any favors in this regard. I probably need someone to jump out from a closet and scream at me...or sneak up behind me and bang a gong or something.

...WAIT!!! That’s a great T-Rex song...you’re dirty sweet and you’re my girl...Now, That’s more like it!

The Glorious Return of Sunday Lunch Bunch

I begin this week celebrating the two week anniversary of Bad Back 2021. Sunday morning at 4:00am I woke up with delightful spasms that sent me to Patient First for a consult with an enormous doctor who had to be at least 6’5” and not a pound lighter than 280. He laid his substantial hands on my back and said, “Oh my, that’s gotta hurt.” Turns out that the big guy was very familiar with back pain, having endured plenty from an old football injury. As I tried to describe my issues, he finished all my sentences for me. It’s nice to be understood. I am now on muscle relaxers, some mild pain medication, and have employed anti-inflammatory patches, none of which work when you have just woken up in the morning. Took my first does of the day fifteen minutes ago and am now awaiting relief.

Despite yesterday morning’s unpleasantness, I made it to church yesterday in person for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a combination of travel, the holidays, post holiday caution, crappy weather and frankly...inertia that had kept us away. It was time. It’s been a year now since all this started. Warmth is in the forecast. Winter will soon be in the rear view mirror. No more sofa-church. Being in the building felt like homecoming. Afterwards, we even got the old Sunday Lunch Bunch band back together. We made a reservation at Anokha. Everyone was there except for Leigh Anne Fort, who was visiting her sister. The fact that Gordon agreed to come without her tells you something about how hungry we all are for human interaction and anything that feels like normalcy. It was Pam and me, my sister Paula and her husband Ron, their son Ryan, and Gordon. We took a picture and sent it to Leigh Anne...

Just like in the old days, I got the Tandoori platter with extra sauce on the side, and hogged all the naan. I am a slave to old habits.

Check out my nephew Ryan. I have watched this kid grow up from an annoying little crumb-snatcher, to an obnoxious middle schooler, through the know-it-all high school and college days. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, I look up and he’s this incredibly handsome, smart, hard-working...uh...man. What the heck happened? Its becoming more difficult to refer to him by my preferred name...knucklehead. I have called him this for 20 years now. But as I sat across from him yesterday it occurred to me that he is anything but. That doesn’t mean that I am ready to retire “knucklehead”. I am his uncle which comes with certain rights and privileges, among them, the assignment of nicknames. But Ryan has navigated the first stages of his adult life during a pandemic with great skill. He has a good job, good friends, and one day is going to make some very lucky girl one heck of a fine husband. Respect. 

So, Ryan, if you’re reading this, have a good week....knucklehead!!

Time For Some Dreaming

Now that March has arrived, its officially time to start the mental preparations for...Maine. That’s right, in exactly 116 days we will be heading out for five glorious weeks on fabulous Quantabacook Lake in Searsmont, Me. This summer, thanks to COVID, it was far more difficult to find accommodations since so many cabin owners are staying put, making fewer spots available to outsiders, especially month-hogs like us. So we will be spending the first two weeks on the east bank of the lake in a place called Summer Dreams, a mere six cabins north of the greatest lake house in all of human history, Loon Landing. Then we will pack everything up and move a little further north, spending our next three weeks on the West Bank of the lake for the first time ever. The following two maps show the different locations and their relationship to each other...

Summer Dreams is a charming little place that sits right on the edge of the lake. It is the smaller of the two cabins, with only two bedrooms. 

Meal time seems guaranteed to be amazing...

Like I said, a little snug, but plenty big for our needs.

The second week we needed a bigger place for our kids and possible other guests who might pop in for a visit. Our first West Bank experience will be in the unimaginatively named—Quantabacook Lake House:

Despite the pedestrian name, this place has its own charms...

I can see myself drinking some coffee at this table in the morning...

Having this room filled with some of my favorite people in the world will do quite nicely...

Just in case you’re wondering, these images will be on my mind every spare moment I get for the next three months. One of these days, we will have a place of our own. When that day arrives I will be one happy man.

Dunnevant’s Theory of Good Government

I’m going to go out on a limb here by reducing the entire history of civilization down to what I believe are its core foundational elements. I know, I know...sounds like a real yawner, right? I will do my best to be both brief, and interesting. Here’s my theory:

The two key elements required for a flourishing society, the two things upon which successful, cooperative civilizations are built are—

- The Rule of Law

- Personal Freedom

There are others, sure, but without these two, all is lost. To the extent that governments honor these two foundation principles, they enjoy relative peace and prosperity. To the extent they discard them, chaos and death soon follow. How so?

1. When the rule of law becomes arbitrary, circumstantial, or ignored altogether, and if the “rules” ignore popular will, you're in for trouble. The making of law must always be done with what the Founders referred to as the consent of the governed. Also, when the rule of law is applied to some but not others, you’re in for even more trouble. The human instinct for justice, granted I believe by our creator, is a powerful force and cannot long be trampled upon.

2. When personal freedom morphs into complete and total personal autonomy, disaster will inevitably follow. No one in a functioning society can be granted absolute freedom. I don’t have the freedom to burst through my neighbor’s front door with an ax and murderous intent because he plays his music too loud. All members of society are called upon to make shared sacrifices for the common good. We don’t construct our own roads, function as judge, jury and executioner of criminals. When we confuse the dignity of the individual with the supremacy of the individual, we become an ungovernable, self-interested mob.

So, there you have it. Dunnevant’s Theory of Good Government. If you think about it, all of the political arguments we engage in can be traced back to these foundational rocks. Where we differ is how best to organize these sometimes conflicting principles. How to balance personal freedom with the pursuit of the common good? How to make laws that best reflect the people’s will and how to administer those laws justly? 

Simple, right? No. Human history is largely the story of human beings trying mightily to find the perfect balance...and mostly failing. Peace and prosperity are the outliers of the human story. When any country stumbles on a formula that works, we marvel. America so stumbled in 1776. It was far from perfect, and we have been hammering out the details ever since, sometimes successfully, other times accompanied by violence. But we persist because the alternative is unacceptable. May we never stop hammering.

A Proud Dad Moment

Good Thursday morning, kids. I have some exciting developments concerning my physical condition, or more precisely put, the uninterrupted deterioration of said condition which I can only conclude comes from the fact that in less than 30 days I will turn 63 years old. 

Eleven days ago, Monday the 22nd of February, I woke up with a painful back. Two days later I regaled you with all the sordid details in a blog post with the unimaginative title, Bad Back. Two days ago the back felt great and yesterday it was 100%. Matter of fact, yesterday afternoon I was able to go for a four mile walk after work. So, about an hour ago I was stepping out of the shower.( I have an 8 o’clock Zoom call with a client so I had to get in the shower ahead of Pam). Anyway, I stepped out of the shower and reached up to grab my towel off the hanger on the back of the bathroom door like I’ve done, oh—I don’t know—7,000 times since we’ve lived in this house, and BAMM, that sickening twinge, the brief flutter of nausea, and a muttered profanity. Yes, I have thrown it out...again. As the kids like to say...I can’t even...

On a brighter note, I would like to brag on my kids for a minute. Kaitlin and Patrick are both in their early 30’s and I often tell them that they are both better people than Pam and I were at their age. It’s not just a clever line, it happens to be the truth. They are both extremely bright, hard working, compassionate people who no matter what else I might screw up in life I can always point to and say, “See those two? Pam and I did that.” But we are a generation apart and as a result disagree on many things. When it comes to politics, Kaitlin is to my ideological left while Patrick is to her left, farther from his father’s libertarian-tinged conservatism. But the helpful part of this dynamic is that they are both whip-smart and can offer me less emotional, more logical explanations of their views than I can find on the shouting matches of cable news shows or the spittle flying, fact-less tirades on social media. When I come across what I know is a complicated issue reduced to a meme snippet, I know that I can rely on Patrick to give me a fuller explanation, So I will often text him to ask a question or tease him about the latest crazy left wing fad I’ve stumbled across. We trade snark for a few minutes. We do this because while my kids may have different political views, the apple of their trash talking fell directly at the roots of Dad’s tree! Anyway, eventually we start having a substantial  discussion of whatever issue it is. Such was the case yesterday with the Dr. Seuss business.

So, what are the results of these discussions, you might ask? Does anyone’s mind get changed? The answer is mostly...no. But here’s what does happen. I always learn something. I like to think they do too. Sometimes they will say something that I had never thought about. Sometimes these discussions cause me to question my assumptions and yes, sometimes I find them lacking. Of course sometimes even after a logical explanation of their views I come away thinking, ‘Sorry, that’s still nuts!!” But after one of these long text exchanges I always come away intensely proud of them. Somehow, against all odds, Pam and I have raised kids who care about their neighbors, who have a heart for the least of these, and can sling pithy sarcasm back at their dad as well as he dishes it out. You just can’t ask for more than that!