My Haunted House

There’s an apparition in my house, the scariest you can imagine.

It taunts me whenever it can.  It always looks me in the eye, and reminds me that I’m rather ugly, that I’m untidy.  Worse, it keeps telling me that I’m getting old, older, oldest.  If I look away, it reminds me that I’m getting flabby, or gray, or worse.

It only appears in certain rooms, so I tend to avoid those rooms.  It only speaks when there’s sufficient light, so I have no problem keeping my house dark.

Full disclosure here, I’m not a vampire.

I don’t play one as an actor, and I’m pretty sure I don’t sleep-vamp.  I’m also good with sunlight, even though I prefer moonlight.  Topping it off, I’m totally ok with garlic.  I love garlic.

You see, my house doesn’t have many mirrors.  Sure, there’s one in the bathroom.  But it’s only there to make sure I don’t slice off my nose while shaving, or that I’ve scraped my tongue correctly.  That’s about it.

I’m convinced that the mirror is one of the greatest sources of life’s stress.  Every time I peer into my own eyes, I can only see what’s wrong, and what’s going wrong, and what can go wrong.

I’ve heard of people who become so worried, so stressed out while looking in the mirror, they spend HOURS peering into its seductive message.  I’m pretty sure none of those people are truly happy.

What was it like before?  You know, before there were mirrors everywhere?  I have a feeling people were a bit messier, but also happier.  First of all, your friends would get your face in shape, so that’s social.  And you wouldn’t spend all that alone time faced with your greatest fear.

Death.

Because that’s what your mirror delivers.  You’re looking into a cold, glassy surface that  reflects your own image back into your eyeballs.  Your hopes, your dreams, your accomplishments aren’t there.  Only you.  Just like when you’re lying there in a coffin, unable to move, with all your friends and a few enemies coming to pay their last respects.

You’re cold, and stiff.  You might as well be made of glass.

So the next time you glance at yourself in your favorite mirror, give yourself a big smile.

It may be your last.

Happy Halloween

 

Lawyers, Judge Thyself

I probably hurt my neighbor’s feelings the other day.

She’s a lawyer, and I was on a roll about how the legal profession has no moral backbone.  The concept of ethics is alien to them.

I was in a courtroom, trying to convince the judge that firing someone who was unethical was in violation of our contract and a greater moral code.

The judge laughed.  I lost.  It cost us almost a quarter million dollars, but I learned something.

Here’s a recent tragedy that illustrates how well the legal profession judges itself.

This tragedy involves a judge who may have killed his wife.  She’s a local teacher and well-liked.  Her murder is upsetting an entire community.

But that’s not the whole tragic story.

It seems that the tragedy started back in 2014 when the Judge was caught assaulting her.

He remained a WORKING Judge for about a year.  A few months later he was sentenced for the assault, and stayed in jail for about a year.

During all this time, he’s still a lawyer.

Here’s a glimmer of good news.  The Board of Professional Conduct recommended that he be disbarred.  For some reason this case went to the Supreme Court of Ohio.

Guess what?

They agreed his behavior was “abhorrent,” but since he was under “stress” they would let him remain a lawyer, but rule that he couldn’t actually work as a lawyer unless he petitioned to be reinstated.

Wow.  Talk about severe.

So, if the ex-Judge is indeed the killer of his ex-wife, then, maybe, the greatest court in the great state of Ohio might think that’s enough evidence to take away his law license.

Then again, a decision like that requires a moral backbone.

So I’m not holding my breath.

By the way, if you’re a lawyer reading this,

Don’t be angry with me.

Try fixing your profession.

Grandmothers Rule

There’s a book by Rudyard Kipling called “Kim.”

A young orphan boy grows up in the shadows of the himalayas during some of the greatest political intrigues of the late 1800s.  We learn of political struggles between the British Empire, the Hind, the Punjab, Afghans, Tibet, and even the Russians.

Mark Twain claimed to read the book at least once a year, it’s that good.

Here’s some excerpts from the very end of the book, where an old Kulu woman of Saharunpore tells us how the old and the young live together.

We who go down to the burning-ghats clutch at the hands of those coming up from the River of Life with full water-jars, yes, brimming water-jars.  …  It is true that the old eat the young daily.

Mothers have not the wisdom of our years.  If a child cries they say the heavens are falling.  Now a grandmother is far enough separated from the pain of bearing and the pleasure of giving the breast to consider whether a cry is wickedness pure of the wind.

When one cannot dance in the festival one must e’en look out of the window, and grandmothering takes all a woman’s time.

I watched my father make his way to the “burning-ghats” in his own way.  I’ve also seen neighbors and friends about my age doing the same thing with their parents.  It’s our turn to help our parents in this transition.  And it can feel as if they are feeding upon us.  How wrong is this, that we also fed upon them for many of our first years?

What strikes me about Kipling’s words, beyond their insight, is also how much they tell us about the strength of family relationships for that time, that place.

Consider the popular movie, Crazy Rich Asians.  The underlying theme is the strength of the family, the responsibilities of keeping everything working properly.  The father is never in the movie, ostensibly because he’s off taking care of the empire.  It is also the basis upon which the heroine is evaluated by the mother.

Family relationship ARE important.  It’s critical to have a baby, a mom AND a dad, and then some grandparents nearby.  We’ve been losing sight of this for many years, and it’s something many people never think about.

Hearing Kipling’s thoughts on the subject reminded me to think about it again.  And to thank all those families out there that still have all their parts.  Money doesn’t matter.  The health of the family does matter.  Love holds it all together.  And it’s the best way to grow the future.

Finally, consider what Kim and others say whenever something annoying happens.

It’s all one.

 

True Killers

There’s this great report put out by the Centers for Disease Control, it’s all about how many people die of things in the USA.  It lists lots of reasons, and helps the government set policies to help its citizens live longer, happier, more productive lives.

Except it doesn’t always seem to be working.  There’s been a drug crisis going on since the 1960s, and today it’s morphed into an even worse epidemic.

So, here’s another perspective on our problem.

Perhaps the list the CDC maintains is the wrong place to be looking.  What we should  consider are things having to do with behavior.

For instance, perhaps the suspects we should consider are these: Loneliness, Stress, and Boredom.

What can Stress do to you?  We know it can accelerate heart attacks, stroke, and many other things related to aging.

What about Boredom?  That gives us time to play with drugs, experiment with risky behaviors, and wonder why life is worth living when the going gets tough.

Finally, what about Loneliness?  When we’re lonely, we tend to think about our pains, we magnify our problems and minimize our blessings.  When we’re lonely, we can also be alone.

One of the biggest causes of loneliness is being alone.  If we’re alone, we can make mistakes.  Mistakes can be big ones, like leaving the stove cooking something when we go to sleep.  Or sitting in a running car when the garage door is closed.  Or taking the wrong medicine at the wrong time.

These three things can exist in any age group, any population, at any time.  Addressing the causes that underlie the reasons we die may be far more effective than simply trying to attack the reason.  It has to be better than what we’ve been doing, simply because what we’ve been doing hasn’t worked.

So the next time you see a horror film, go with someone.  Talk about it.  Make sure it’s a relaxing experience.  My guess is you’ll live to see another day.  And another.

 

Where There’s Smoke

It’s no coincidence that if you see smoke, there’s fire somewhere inside.

If you live inside a house, you’re taught from an early age to save your life by GETTING OUT.

Drop.  Roll.  Know your escape route to safety.

That’s the easy way to save your life.

What if the smoke you are seeing isn’t from inside your home?

What if the smoke is coming from your society?  What if the news is full of tragic stories?  What if your family and friends are touched by random violence?

What if your planet is being harassed by unthinking newly arrived inhabitants, who litter, obliterate, and violate huge portions of its landscape?  What if the Amazon is cut down?  What if we fill the atmosphere with CO2 and methane?  Why does it matter if we drive so many species to extinction?

These are all variations of seeing the smoke inside your home.  Many people see the smoke, and are crying out as loud as they can: FIRE!

My question is this.  Why can’t more people see the smoke?  How many more cries will it take to move the majority of people?  What will it take to get governments to act?  Even more critically, what will it take to make all governments act in unison?

If you are studying any social discipline, including philosophy, these questions should be at the top of your syllabus.  Your “discipline” should have a methodology, a basis of axioms and reference in which you can answer this question.  Better yet, if your discipline is mature enough, it may even suggest an optimal route of making our world a better place.

If not, then, all I can say is…

Drop.

Roll.

And …