Nestled

Mom is now impatient to be better, healed, cured, back into a more independent life. Instead of asking to be shot, she is asking why I don’t help her get over this thing. So this is good, Carola and I are taking it with a grin, although at 4am it is not that funny. It makes me think of how my life will be when and if I get to that advanced age. I don’t even want to think about it. Just like that horse doing x-country trials, I’ll take the obstacles as they come.

Theresa is heading for China to get a little sister for Marina and a second child for Michael and her. I am thinking that I would never do such a thing at his age, he is in his early fifties; the same age as I was when we came to Louisville. That was 17 years ago and now I am thinking of the interim. But back on the subject of T&M; they are average 50 years old and taking on a second baby who is two years old and a baby with some questions as to her health and early childhood development. Yet they seem to be answering some Karmic call and knowing Theresa, everything will be just fine. It is the Michael I can’t figure out and I’m not even going to attempt same.

Back to the Louisville interval; now that I’ve opened the door to it perhaps I should go into the room and look around. There has been a decided improvement in the city over this period of time. For someone from here, it must seem more like a Renaissance than new and improved because the city was a metropolitan center since the Civil War. It went into steep decline after the 1937 flood and then in the years surrounding 1980; when we got here in 1992 it was stirring like a Phoenix getting ready to rise from the ashes. There is still a brain trust that is not in place, the kind of brain trust that put Nashville, Indianapolis, Atlanta, and Cincinnati on the map.

We heard a historical summary of Louisville at a Rotary Club meeting a few years ago and it made a lot of sense. At the end of the Civil War this became the gateway city to the South. The devastation of the South from that war, especially General Sherman, left the infrastructure in ruins and the production capacity zeroed out. Louisville was the northern terminus of the L&N railroad, the UPS of its day. Many, if not most, of the goods and materials that went south went through here. There was prosperous Louisville and then there was Kentucky with Kentucky being the poor relative. There was a plethora of manufacturers and producers here as well as brokers, suppliers, and agents. The river boats came from the northeast via Cincinnati and from the Midwest via Saint Louis MO, Cairo IL, and Paducah KY with all of the cargo either passing through here to be put on the railroad or processed here and then put on the railroad.

Then in the 1960’s and until the 1980’s the economic infrastructure of the community underwent a change. There was a step function change caused by economy of scale that led to the “cashing in” by the heirs to outside interests; leaving behind a class of rich shareholders without corporate responsibility. The need to cultivate a relationship with those who were employed went away and the heirs separated themselves from the community, which was no longer necessary for the continuity of their businesses. Even today there is a whole stratum of people living here who are funded by trust funds and are not at all engaged in the nitty-gritty of community development. They don’t need to be so they’re not. And the absentee owners do little or nil to encourage the development of human resource; they either take what they find or relocate from other locations to here.

The 1980’s saw a rapid decline of manufacturers in the community as production went to other locations operated by the new owners of the corporations. There were, and still are some big names here, like Ford and GE but the multitude of small manufacturers went away. Then UPS decided to use the central location of Louisville as its North American air hub and things started changing again. A different business climate came to pass; logistics. This and a good interstate highway system re-established Louisville as a commercial center. When we came on the scene in 1992, this transformation was still picking up steam, now it is in flight; or at least it was until the current economic crisis occurred in October 2008. The consensus is that this is a set back and not an end. Commercial development is slowed but will resume when the time is right.

In addition to UPS and the core manufacturing provided by Ford and GE, there is the medical industry which is huge here. They are supported, sustained by two fine Universities and cooperation among the three big economic drivers and the U’s is good. It replaces the support that the entreprenurial owners of yesteryear gave to the business community.

The trust fund babies are still haunting the community because they have a lot of money and power. There are infrastructure issues that are stymied by vested interests; the I265 bridge over the Ohio River is the most obvious. Any threat to their bucolic lifestyle is met with legal battles that prolong the process and serve no purpose other than to harass the project. There will be an I265 bridge, period but it will cost dearly just because this selfish group is standing in the way.

We made a good choice in coming here. I’ve been involved in the community, albeit in a minor way but more so than most. I’ve bemoaned my lack of imagination, lack of recognition, lack of self-marketing enough for the reader to know that I am what is holding me back. Well me and the fact that I am here only since 1992 and seen as a small business person without repute. My credentials are not known nor appreciated and my one attempt at becomming the paid director of a community organization was not successful. Yet we live the good life; currently shackled but relatively happy.

Changing Attitudes

It is now 4:45pm on Friday; it may be we or it may be mom but in either case she has taken a turn for the better. If it’s we, it’s because we’ve had the visiting nurse here and the physical therapist and both of us feel better about the situation; feel that we are doing the right things and avoiding the wrong. I added a daily to my list: “Mistakes are avoided because I am vigilant.” If it’s mom it is because she is feeling more confident, perhaps getting through a combination of feeling like she’s a burden and/or even a little self-pity. When I asked her yesterday, “Do you want me to send for the priest?” She said no, to which I said, “I’ll ask you again later.”

There’s a little history that goes along with using this question, this strategy. She sent for the priest for my grandfather Lina and he died shortly thereafter. My grandmother was most upset with my mother for having done so; claimed it hastened his death. I know mom remembers this because it is she who told me the story. It could be, therefore, that she now thinks that the visit by the priest is the last act. By changing her attitude, ever so slightly, she is telling me that she’s not ready to die. This is quite a change from the day before yesterday when she asked me, “Why can’t you just shoot me?”

The question on my mind is, why doesn’t she die? She is a being with a Master, Driver (Steward), Personae, Brain-body, and a link to Essence. As such, she is in this Brain-body until she is finished with it; then she can move on and take on another when she is ready. The fact that she is still alive can be interpreted to mean she isn’t finished yet. Perhaps there is/are a lesson still to be taught to those around her, including me. I have certainly been trying to understand more and more the why’s and wherefore’s of this whole situation.

She is rewarding me by living longer because dealing with the situation of tending to her needs causes me to reconcile myself to the effort and not look for reward, appreciation, or approval. It is something I have to do out of honor, duty, and responsibility. This realization is new. I have been grating under the burden of her being here and the stinginess of my sister and to a lesser extent brother-in-law. Until now I have resented the fact that they have contributed minimally to her support; and when I say minimally I mean zero money, zero appreciation, and an “attitude” about even coming up here twice a year to be with her for a week or so while Carola and I go to visit our kids.

Now I see it for what it is, an opportunity for personal fulfillment and when it is over I will have the best of all possible rewards, for me anyway, that of self approval, i.e. able to have the solace of knowing that I did what I was supposed to do out of a sense of filial responsibility. I’ve become aware of my need for approval and the approval that is most important for me to have is my own. And one of the best rewards is not giving a care to what others do/don’t.

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We took mom to the bone doctor last week, our appointment was for 10:30am and it was afternoon when we finally got in to the consultation room and yet another hour waiting for him to come in; then he spent no more than 10 minutes with us/her and was gone. I was not happy about this; then I got to thinking about it, what and why. What else would I be doing for these few hours and why am I getting so upset?

The truth is I would be doing scant little of a productive nature because our whole life is absorbed with mom and her leg/knee at the moment. So there’s no reason to be all up in arms about waiting in a doctor’s office. The answer to the why is even more interesting. I was upset because someone else was in control of me. I couldn’t leave, couldn’t do anything else but wait while they continued their business, completely unconcerned about me and the fact that I was there. Once I realized these things, I was placated and at ease. The fury dissipated and I became tres calme.

These are two examples of what is happening more and more with me. It is a result of the daily, “Realizing that emotional responses are irrational, I am more objective,” and verifies the/underscores the influence of repeating them daily. It has/ and continues to take a long time to effect changes in responses, to reorient the personae to a more desirable response, to recognize the emotional response and negate it, to accentuate/ emphasize/ recognize/ give credence to the intellectual response. The next step, to articulate the objective response will come along naturally enough. The biggest hurdle to get over is/was giving sway to the emotional response.

The change of heart towards slavery that is noted in Abraham Lincoln and the contrast between him and G.W. Bush who gave no evidence of evolving in his thinking is not lost on me. It is the Abe Lincoln type model that I use to reflect on my experiences and change my attitudes towards issues, people, situations, and perceptions. This has made me sensitive to wanting to reconcile my feelings objectively; the daily, then the introspection, then the conclusion all form the pattern of development that I am happy to see happening.

It is important not to become Pollyannaish and forget there are those who will do me harm; who harbor hard feelings, envy, even jealousy towards me. Not knowing who they are makes me hold back overtures to those who are suspect and knowing some by name, makes me vigilant for the opportunity to make war or peace, as I deem appropriate.

An Odd Assortment of Thoughts

As is the case every Sunday, I am sitting down to plan out my week. This is going to be a significant week due to “Passing the Gavel” from me to the new president of the Rotary Club of East Louisville Sunrise. Rarely have I prepared as well for a presentation that was not work related. I’m not hide-bound into the program but will approach the affair with calm equanimity. It would not be productive to be too controlling.

There were other things planned for the week, such as a trip to Virginia but we have the problem of mom being down at the moment. I am staying loose on all other commitments and can see that this is the wisest thing to do. I’ve added a daily to my list, “Guarding against stupid mistakes, I am vigilant.” And I added this one after I noticed mom with a black eye because her spectacle nose piece pressed in on her when I helped her off the pot; but this goes further than that, it requires me to be circumspect about everything that is happening around me. It is in the same vein as being awake, being aware, and now being vigilant. I suppose they are all birds of a feather.

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We watched The Reader last night and once I got beyond it being Kate Winslet and realizing her character, the story took on a whole different dimension. She isn’t the dear sweet movie star but rather a brutish, illiterate, myopic character who sees everything from the immediate effect on her. This included seducing the young Michael, allowing 300 women to burn to death in a locked barn when she had the key, and refusing to admit that she couldn’t read or write. She would have been in her very early twenties at the time of her employment as a guard at the concentration camp. At her trial in 1960 something, she gave clues to her lack of discernment beyond instructions given to her by superiors or by the system.

Then there was the male character, Michael, who was a self-pitying sort who couldn’t get over his guilt at being seduced by a woman about twenty years his senior. Her tombstone said born 1922 and the seduction occurred in 1958, she would have been 36 and he sixteen. Personally I think he over reacted to what could have been a celebratory occurrence in a young man’s life. There was a sexual interlude and they didn’t get caught. So, I suppose it could have occurred as it was written. But the character flaw of his being unable/unwilling to help her when he could have is hard to understand except to realize that he represented the youth of Germany after the war, and found that they were of a nation that had killed 6 million people and unable to deal with it.

Had the roles been reversed, an older man seducing a young woman, I could see the possibility of guilt carrying forward as it did in this character. But then there are many young women who would likewise have seen it as a nice enough experience as long as there was no pregnancy involved.

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There is a mood among people these days that black Americans deserve/ should get/ need/ must have/ an apology on the part of the government that their American forefathers were enslaved. Then there are those who take it further and say they deserve some compensation for their lost wages during the time of enslavement.

It all seems ridiculous to me. Those that profited are dead. Those that suffered are dead. The abuses of the carpet baggers and scoundrels after the Civil war evoked repressive atrocities on the blacks in order to preserve the influence of the educated, which is not a euphemism for white but at that time the whites were educated and the blacks not. These disempowering devices were put in place and remained so until the 1960’s. I think it is this that the blacks are justifiably mad about. There are many alive today who suffered at the hands of the white power structure in the south; for them I say, go get ‘em but I don’t think the United States government is liable now for slavery.

Wouldn’t it be something if there was a constitutional amendment about life as it refers to fetuses? Then all the aborted fetuses could band together and sue the government for their being killed. Only there are no survivors in this. Perhaps the brothers and sisters of those killed could sue for damages. A law changes and then all who are/were/could have been affected by the circumstances that became unlawful go back and sue for damages? Is this how it works? There is the ex post facto limitation but I honestly don’t know if it applies in civil cases.

To require the American government to pay people for their predecessors being enslaved is stretching the point quite a bit. The law changed and slavery was abolished. The families of the vast majority of Americans today, who pay taxes and whose taxes would be used to pay such repatriations, weren’t even here when at the time of slavery. None of the blacks for whom compensation is sought are alive and besides that, many blacks come from forefathers who came to this country after that time.

I see it as another attention getting device to call attention to what happened over 100 years ago. Like some people who dwell on the holocaust and cant’ get past it, so too do these bleeding hearts either feel guilty, or want the pity that they feel they deserve, and then there's the possibility of getting some money. In this litigious society everyone seems to be looking for the gotcha on someone else. I say you can’t go back and get damages for something that happened to someone else.

There are those who profited from extorting the Jews in Germany during the Third Reich. I have my suspicions about some people who started with less than nothing, were intelligent, and worked hard but this alone can’t explain their apparent wealth; but there is no recovery for the families of those extorted.

Incidental Life

It is Saturday and the next day in a turbulent time. Mom slipped on the bathroom floor and went down at 4am on Wednesday. We went back to her area to find her on her butt and elbows on the floor. This has affected her left knee more than anything else and for good reason. She broke that knee in 1986 and it never healed properly. Dr. O’Brien remarked about the misalignment on more than one occasion. The x-ray showed a hollowed out place at the top of the knob at the knee-end of the lower leg bone; the bone doctor said there was fluid in the joint as well but not a large amount and not a serious consideration. The fall, in my opinion, exacerbated an old situation.

But this is not the big problem; she is psychologically down in the dumps. Not at all responsive; refused food for two days and this morning ate a small bowl of oatmeal; but at noon she ate almost nothing. She shows glimmers of humor, but it is forced. She says nothing and feels worse; when I reminded her that our favorite program was on tonight she said, “I don’t care.” Carola and I are sitting with her every moment, one or the other of us is with her, in the room, chattering away with her, trying to break her out of her gloom but she’s persisting. She’s been like this before but not to this extreme.

She is sensitive to her being here this I know this from her behavior and her remarks on certain holidays when we tell her we love her and her being here. Then we had to cancel our trip to Virginia and Barb and Joe’s visit here to be with her. She may be feeling bad, blaming herself for causing a lot of trouble for everyone. Her spirit seems broken.

I’m not sure what to do. I could call a priest but that may send a completely wrong signal to her. She did so for my Grandpa Lina and my grandmother blamed mom for doing him in. Bob Mueller may be a good person to whom to talk. He works at Hosparus and they deal in these types of situations. Ed Causey may likewise be a person from whom to get some advice. Yes, there are some ideas here that may be worth following.

The whole thing is disturbing to me because I don’t know for sure what is going on. I remember when her leg was hurt last time that she prayed incessantly and I suspected she was praying to die. I remember thinking that she was going to wear out that rosary. Then slowly it got better and better until she was her old self again, no pun intended. I can only hope that this one is likewise a recoverable situation.

It is curious that it is always her left leg. A dog bit her, I don’t know the date anymore, and the first doctor to see her was incompetent; luckily the second one saved her leg with quick action and a skin graft from her thigh. Then she was putting up the storm windows at 8572 Oriole Avenue when the wind caught one and twisted her around. That was 1986 because we were in from Houston for Thanksgiving, and it happened in October. She sat around for the many weeks it took to heal and that idleness, along with her medical history, led to the onset of her first set of back fractures when she picked up a heavy tray of ham at Pop’s 80th birthday party in 1987.

All was quiet until earlier this year when she fell in her room. She hit her head on the marble top table and messed up her left leg. She had to have stitches in her head and fluid built up in that leg and an infection set in; that was dicey but we finally got it cleared up.

Then one day early this year, she called to me; her walker had jammed under her recliner foot rest. I reached down, pulled up on the footrest, and removed the walker. When I let go of it, her leg was crushed between the side of the chair and the footrest. No broken bones but the tissue around the lower leg was completely traumatized and it took weeks for it to get back to normal. We had her in several times because we feared infection like a previous time but the doctor prevented it with antibiotics; it healed.

Starting just a few weeks ago, she complained about that leg/knee bothering her quite a bit. She walked to the kitchen from her room several times a day, usually thrice, and her steps were about three inches at a time. Once in a while she would call for the chair because it just was too painful to walk; then the fall the other night.

Another problem is her skeleton above her waist. It is all melted together and like soft wax is settling down onto her hips. She’s lost about 8 inches of height from five feet six inches. She has almost no upper body and a huge bulge in her back where the spine is fused into a mass of bone. Dr. O’Brien’s office has a full skeletal x-ray and I saw when they were taken. Her lungs and organs are all smashed into a small volume of body cavity but somehow she keeps functioning. Her organs seem to operating just fine, her breathing is shallow, her heart rate is slow, always has been and it runs in the family with me and Theresa, and her blood pressure is absolutely normal, the envy of some nurses who take a reading. But now she has all but stopped eating and I’m worried. She may be at the end of a long and interesting life; yet I think that she will pull through this, she will get her will power back, her will to live, and we’ll be back at the table yakking away again soon. Then in December we'll celebrate her 101st.

Can't Talk Right Now

Much of my time is spent observing myself, as if from an outside position to gauge my activities, appearance, and mien. Even with this I’m sure that what others see has little or no resemblance to what think I see. In fact, every other person who notices me, and there may be few who do, has his or her own opinion of what they see. And, like me, their opinion is influenced by how they are feeling about themselves at the moment, how the emotional impact of others’ reactions to them is lingering, and the many other things that color their judgment at that particular instant. But all of this is an annoying aside because what others think of me only matters at the time of formal notice to either interact, voice an opinion, make a selection, applaud (or boo), or cast a ballot.

The real matter of concern is how I feel about myself; how objectively I am observing me. It is only through objective self-observation that a true picture of who I am begins to emerge, like the positive print immersed in chemicals in a photo lab. One can only strive to have the development complete before this particular phase/age of the being remains unfinished. With an objective understanding of himself one can develop because he is not hindered with self-doubt.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about why people, including me, act/behave in one way or another. There is a list of reasons that generally range from avoiding death to experiencing euphoria as the ends of a continuum. There are two that are prominent for me, and I suppose lots of other people: (1) receiving approval and (2) avoiding disapproval.

When I think about these two I can reason their source, i.e. the influence of people to whom I gave deference as I grew out of childhood. The lingering emotional need for approval has a great deal of influence over what I say and do. It hasn’t been such a bad thing; I seem to be a respected member of the community. The need to get approval or avoid disapproval is always a factor in what I do. They are, however, often the primary factors and cause me to fail to achieve some goal or another, especially in competition.

This is interesting because it is an aspect of my behavior that is only now coming through the mist. There are two major sports for me, golf and pool. I have a certain level of skill in both of these and have performed brilliantly in each from time to time. Yet there are those who will offer me suggestions/advice on how to do this or that and it has an effect on my overall performance. I seem to give up my autonomy in the game and become subordinate to the “instructor.” While his advice may be good for this particular instance, taking that advice usurps my control over me and my game. It does this because I have an emotional, and therefore irrational, response to the interruption of my thought. This causes me to lose control of my game. The response that I have is derived from the way my father overpowered me emotionally as I was growing up. An objective response would allow me to get back on my own track for the game after this interruption instead of being derailed. Thank you for this insight.

A second observation that is only now coming into focus is the high level of emotional repression that is in place in me. When David Hershberg died, I could only sit with his wife Roberta and could not speak. I was fond of David and every attempt at saying something was stifled by a swelling of my throat in preparation for breaking down into uncontrolled crying. On every occasion when I am faced with the pitiful condition of my mother and her brave acceptance of her state and the way she perseveres through adversity, the same welling up of emotion occurs. This has been happening for 30 years, since I became aware of her mortality. Whenever I am faced with a situation that is near and dear to my heart, I have this swelling of emotion that occurs. It happens in patriotic, family, competitive, and affectionate situations.

Quite the opposite occurs in confrontational situations. One extreme occasion was on a dark, isolated two lane, road on the way from Charles De Gaul airport one night. I was driving along; the only other car on the road came towards me, blinking his lights furiously. I stopped my car, got out, and exhibited an aggressive posture towards the driver and only occupant. He explained, in French that I could barely understand, that my headlights were out of adjustment. That could have been a life threatening confrontation but I didn’t seem to care; I was on the offense. This happens often in relationships, with acquaintances, business dealings, and even after observing others with whom I have only a causal relationship, over-the- counter.

So what I am seeing is highly emotional responses to love and hate situations and a lack of objectivity in dealing with them. There doesn’t seem to be a mechanism in my psyche for dealing with extremes on this line. No amount of “intellectualizing” seems to overcome my emphatic and extreme reactions to these polar situations. My only salvation is to separate from them, either by not responding, as in not attempting to speak, or by quitting the field before I do something irreparable; although sometimes, as in the back road incident, I go on the offensive without reflection.

I recite a daily, “Realizing that emotional responses are irrational, I am more objective.” It is my hope that over time this will become ingrained in my psyche and allow me to express deep feelings and react more reasonably in confrontational situations. This and self observation will have its effect eventually. They seem to be my only recourse.

Notes on Living a Long Time

This is a classic example of sitting down to write without having a clue as to about what. While to some readers it may seem silly, to me, who has done this often and with good personal results, it is a way of getting the stream started. It is 9 am and breakfast is over. We were awakened by calls from mom’s room at 4 am and went back to find her on the bathroom floor. She said later that her knees gave way, she didn’t fall. Now she is sitting in the kitchen in a seemingly down mood. It is understandable since she is in a time of life that has no experience with which to compare; she’s over 100 years old.

I’ve watched her age the past 11 years and close-hand for the past 7 of them. It is a slow and gradual deterioration of her ears, eyes, and muscles but not her mind. Whereas some people exhibit signs of Alzheimer’s disease, not mom; she is just as sharp as ever, a little slower here and there, but generally just as good. She has little or nothing to do all day except sit; often she sleeps, often the TV is on but she isn’t paying much attention to it. Anyone with the ability to see, hear, and move would be going a little crazy for lack of s.t. to do. Every remark is answered by “Huh?” Sometimes she gives a stock answer, such as “Yeah” or “Oh yes” or similar and I catch it and ask if she heard me and she smiles and says, “No.” Then I must shout at her for her to hear. She refuses to wear hearing aids, of which she has two sets.

Her eyes are almost gone, she has macular degeneration, but there is some macula remaining because she can see in certain directions but winds up feeling around in front of her for napkin, knife, fork, or water glass. She has completely given up on the newspaper, whereas in the past she did the jumble and read the comics. Books and papers are of no value whatsoever. When she goes to the eye doctor, who has kept her glaucoma in remission with expensive eye drops, she can barely read the E at the top of the chart. The last time was the same as the previous several, we go every 6 months, and Dr. Huntington says there’s nothing to be done other than controlling the glaucoma.

Then there’s the issue with her muscles. Here I have an opinion, which only I can have. It seems to me that her adamant refusal to do even the most elemental exercises for arms, legs, torso, and heart have led to this degradation of her musculature to where it takes two hands to pass a plate at the table. She has no muscle tissue left in her arms and her body has atrophied to the point of minimal muscle necessary to hold her together. Her legs are likewise weak and, therefore, her knees, hips and ankles are all at risk due to a lack of supporting muscle.

This can/could have been avoided had she allowed me to work with her to do the exercises that the vocational and physical therapy visits prescribed. She did them for a short time then refused. Now the she’s paying the price because there is no support and she doesn’t have strength enough to maintain herself. And we are likewise put at an extreme disadvantage because now she has to be lifted on and off the bed, chair, and pot. I don’t know what we’re going to do about bathing, this is all new and we’ll have to work it out.

So what does this all mean to me? Aside from taking care of her, which “I said I would so I quess I’m stuck with it,” Sean Kerrigan 2008, there are lessons to be learned here that will keep me going for the long haul. (1) It is prudent of me to think in terms of living to be as old as my mother even if I get killed tomorrow. (2) Stick to my daily, “Keeping my heart, torso, arms, and legs strong; I participate.” (3) Deepen my reserves of physical and psychic energy. And (4) be as independent as possible for as long as possible but not stubborn to the point of not getting help when it is needed.

This last point is one to keep in mind as we go forward with mom. There will come a time when she will have to be seen by healthcare pros, who can assess her needs and make recommendations for support; it may be a few days until we make this contact. It may also be necessary to postpone our trip to VA due to this latest development and let the situation develop over time. It wouldn’t be fair to get sister Barbara involved other than to keep her informed. She and Joe are slated to come up one week from today.

I don’t fault mom for her condition, I simply see it as being somewhat avoidable with some daily exercises. I will continue mine as I have for the past several years (35.) They keep me flexible, able to handle my own weight, and do stuff like yard work, golf, hiking, and maybe even riding, if I ever get over to the park. Her decision was not to do this and now she and we are suffering the consequences. Yet her attitude towards it all her life is what gave her the reserve strength to make it to this age. She worked herself hard; lifting, climbing, carrying, pushing, and walking. It has taken this long to work through those reserves. She’s there now, running on empty.

And now I turn a little attention to my wife who is on the same path as mom. She eschews regular exertion of any kind and mark my words in fifteen years she will fall apart. Her organs are already showing signs of distress; she’s on several medications for symptoms that would go away if she exerted herself, even if only walking. But the wrath of a woman who simply won’t be cowed erupts every time it is mentioned. So it goes.

Father's Day

This is Father’s day. It is only mentioned because it gives a sort of qualification to the day, set’s it apart from other days. Every day should be a celebration and made special, apart from any other day, memorable because it is an event in this lifetime. Most days are like this and, for me anyway, worthy of recording their occurrence in a log.

I listen to a lot of erudite stuff; Great Courses, classical literature, poems, essays and the like and I am becoming more and more aware of my own insignificance in the grand scheme of things and admit that I am envious of the fame and notoriety that some have achieved in our history; and yet relieved that when I go about the city I am not set upon by others. I want to be famous but at the same time want to be anonymous. It is plain to see that fame is a double edged sword.

The population seems to have an insatiable appetite for stories about those whom we know, even if only from afar. The tabloid press industry has developed to satisfy this appetite. This phenomenon exists because of curiosity and unfulfilled personal relationships. Why would anyone want to enter this Roman forum? Oscar Wilde quipped: “The two biggest disappointments in life are not getting what you wanted and getting it.” Thus he recognized that dissatisfaction is a basic to human nature; of course it is.

A good friend of mine wended his way around his elbow to finally introduce the main speaker after dinner recently. The speaker, a contemporary of my friend and likewise a scholar, thanked him for for the hyperbolic introduction. For some reason I didn’t think this was all that complementary. I see that I too am hyperbolic. Most of my writing, as evidenced by the many notebooks that I have filled, is just that; hyperbolic. Often I start on one subject and wend my way around my elbow to reach a whole ‘nother subject by the time my 1000 words are writ.

If this is a criticism, I say so what. Somewhere in here there is an issue with which I am dealing and the only way to get it out is to start clicking away. Eventually it surfaces and gets full shrift. I bring this up because my last entry started one way and wound up talking about hierarchies.

At least that’s how I recall it and I am not in the habit of reading past entries immediately before writing current. The reasoning for all of this, the hyperbole, the ignoring of previous entries for the present, and even this explanation, is to recognize that these pages are more for me than for anyone else. They are my counselor, my analyst. Just as when one goes to see his analyst he starts in one place and winds up in another, so do I on these pages. It harkens back to my basic tenet that one must start from where he is.

This begs the question, where am I? I am in sloth. In the work, there are several states in which one may find himself: sloth, tramp, lunatic, fool and probably some others; all the while seeking to be a Good Householder. Sloth is one where I find myself often and it can be defined as not doing.

For me doing and not doing is related more to the social source content of personae than any other aspect. I know from experience that if contact is to be made, things to be done, things to be followed with enthusiasm by others who have some minor stake in the action; it is up to me to generate that enthusiasm, to keep the ball going from player to player as we attempt to score; yet I am like a newspaper thrown on the fire, i.e. not a log. I flare up with some bright ideas and then wind up in a pillar of smoke, having lost my spark.

The pattern repeats itself often enough and most recently in my term as president of the Rotary Club of East Louisville Sunrise. I am winding up my term of office and don’t feel that I did a very good job of keeping the club engaged. The meetings went well enough but my contacts between meetings, my prodding and urging, my follow-up with committees, fund raising and all the aspects of the club were mediocre; just enough to be able to say that we did s.t. and the result was second place in the district when the club had hopes of once again being first.

A lot of my retraction is due to my perception of others’ attitudes and my hypersensitivity to what I think is happening in their hearts and minds; and not just the club but people with whom I generally associate. I tend to read in the worst regarding motives and sentiments when others could care less. This misogynistic tendency of mine keeps cropping up like weeds in the lawn.

Others have similar tendencies and proclivities, which is why the principles for interacting with others as listed by Dale Carnegie are so important. I have a daily that says, “Internalizing the human relations principles, I am more likable.” And it is important to internalize them so that one doesn’t come across as a phony. This BTW is a common pitfall of those who are less than sincere. Another daily, “Being less cynical and judgmental, I am happier,” supports the first and avoids the phoniness that often creeps in.

This insecurity of mine is what comes out as sloth, inactivity where activity is not required. By saying it this way, I am recognizing the difference between handling problems, even those created by me for me, and addressing opportunities. It is one thing to throw the ball and another to catch it. It is when I have the ball and don’t put it into play that it is sloth and this is a major sin.