Thoughts.com

I was walking along in late February during my somewhat irregular attempt to include exercise in my life, and I came upon a pile of dog dirt. This is not uncommon during my jaunts.  I cannot help but wonder at the audacity of others to leave their pet's dirt for others to step around. Others, that is, except me. I kicked yesterday's Alpo off the path.

Before you get grossed out, I always wear a pair of boots or shoes specifically for walking - these are not brought indoors. I have no aversion to dog dirt, spent what seemed to be the better part of my youth picking up Fritzi's from my back yard, and figure that even if I get some on my footwear, the continuation of my stroll will cleanse my sole.

Howie Mandel and others like him may label me insane, but I don't believe in labels and generally disregard those placed upon me when I know that which I do to be the right thing. (I also discount those labels that are against my character in general!) In this particular idiosyncrasy, I consider walking with one of my daughters, as unlikely as that would be - now that as adults, they cannot be forced on a hike with me.  Would I want them to inattentively stumble onto a land mine?  Knowing the miniscule possibility that my daughters will tread anywhere close to my footsteps, I transfer this logic to your daughter.

You're welcome, and yeah...I'm a saint.

As a matter of fact, now that my tongue no longer in my cheek, when I kicked the dirt aside, I immediately looked up and around for my reward.  Where is that deer? If I listen carefully & squint, can I hear or see cranes flying overhead?  A lurking coyote or circling hawk or better yet eagle would do just fine, thank you!

Then I laugh at myself, breaking the silence of a solitary walk and feeling only a bit foolish, as there were no witnesses to my outburst.  How quickly we transition from saint to sinner.  I didn't relocate the pile for a reward or for recognition from man or nature, but as soon as the deed is done, don't I deserve something? Where is mine?

The quick and obvious answer is, "No."

(Are you ready to ramble? I remember the word "obvious" from my youth.  It was the single word I remember distinctly discussing with my mother, requesting a definition when she would say to me, "Don't state the obvious!"  I remember it so well because I just couldn't grasp its concept and repeated my query many times over the years.  Right now, if you don't mind, I'd like to focus on my memory of this word rather than my lack of learning skills or failure to heed my mother's repeated request! Enough of the rambling...back to "business"...)

People, myself included, shouldn't and most do not do something nice in order to gain something in return.  Why, then, would I automatically search for a prize? My only explanation would be that 1) the prize either wouldn't be given by someone, so it's not really a reward, or 2) if there is a spiritual guide or force or God, then maybe He/She/It saw what a nice thing I did and would send some small token my way.  It's not like I'm looking for a headline or a million bucks!

Then I laugh at myself again. I don't believe in God.  I don't believe against God either. Faith is a funny thing, and a strength for billions of people. How can I deny the possibility? My belief is I will probably never know until after death. Until then, I try to live by common sense, not according to a religion. But if He/She/It does exist, why would he waste time watching me walk along a path?

So I kept walking and laughing, alternating kicks of dirt (sadly, there were multiple mines that day) and searches of the tree line and sky and dashes of self-deprecation for my greed and talking to myself about the absurdity of my concept for rewards.

A few moments later, the first bluebird of the year flew across my path. One never knows!

    I've often thought that rare is the individual who cannot be named "Prejudicial".  I probably act in prejudicial manners every day.  Do you?

    When I see someone exceeding the speed limit by 15 mph or more, my first thought is that they are an inconsiderate or even dangerous driver.  When I see children running around without concern for bumping into, going underneath or entangling others in the area, I deem them obnoxious.  If their parents are watching this scene silently, they are labeled lax in their duties.  If a separate family group stands by in amazement at this unruly spectacle, I would think them well-behaved and honorable.

    These are all prejudicial and reactive thoughts, uncontrolled to an extent, and oftentimes inaccurate to the extreme.  Perhaps the driver is on his/her way to the hospital with an injured or violently ill family member in the rear seat.  It is possible that the kids are "rambunctious" due to the recent release of their parent from the ICU.  Could it be that the parents are allowing a bit of wildness to be demonstrated by their children because one of them has an incurable disease?  As for the stoic family, the chance exists that the good behavior may be the result of severe corporal punishment, discipline or even abuse in order to keep the children in check.

    Certainly, some of these may be extreme, but they are all possible in their own way...and the conclusions drawn equally uncertain, unnecessary and potentially inaccurate.

    Definition #1 per Dictionary.com:  "opinion formed beforehand or without knowledge".  Guilty as charged...all of us.  I can't help but jump to some sort of opinion without the facts - it is a part of our perceptive nature, need-to-know instinct.  Perhaps it stems from our ancestors' prehistoric roots when the need to judge a situation or person might be the difference between life and death.

    Similarly, I also notice things about others, especially those who differ from myself.  I notice a man's skin - dark, yellow, forever bronzed, permanently creased.  If a woman is cloaked in a dress covering her from head to toe, including most of her face, I note this fact.  I see kids with pants whose crotch is at their knees and their underwear is above their belt loops; girls whose shorts are very short or who show cleavage at both top & bottom; the elderly, too bent to walk straight or fast; obese people, tall people, short people; groups of juveniles hanging out in the street, or on the corner, or at the park; long hair, short hair, no hair, nose hair; earring(s), nose rings, tongue rings, lip rings, brow rings; tattoos....

    As unobservant as I am about the color of rooms in my own home, if I pass someone on the street, unless fogged in deep reflective thought, I usually notice certain qualities about them...I can't help it, and when I notice that a man is African-American or a woman a Latina or a person is apparently of Muslim faith, I can't help but be concerned if the very act of noting this feature of another individual is prejudicial.  I have worried about this, actually, for I believe everyone is equal and ultimately we are all human beings.  From my perspective and based on the definition above, I am not prejudicial.

    However, from the viewpoint of the person, would they feel minimized or belittled because I notice these things.  Do they think that they are seen as a Black or a Hispanic or a Muslim first before seen as a person?  I can't argue with this viewpoint because it is not mine, but my stance is that these particular observations are just that - observations, nothing more & nothing less.  It is how I perceive a person after acknowledging the initial observations that determine whether I am prejudiced by the second definition:  "unreasonable, hostile attitudes regarding a group"

    I have no ill will toward anyone because of their race, religion or any other arbitrary or fictitious classification society tends to use for separation.  Observing a person's color or garb is not the same as judging them based on this fact.  Nor is the fact that those of color see me as white, or those of youth see me as senile, a sign that they have prejudged me.

    I like to think that we can judge each other on our actions rather than physical attributes and beliefs.  I may not be happy with one of my Hispanic co-workers, but I don't want to be labeled prejudiced due to my displeasure.  I also do not want simple observations to be construed as or criteria from which I draw conclusions.

    I wait for proof before labeling someone a jerk - then I try to tolerate him.  Only after I see specific signs of disrespect do I consider an adolescent as somewhat of a punk - and then I try to give him time to grow up and gain maturity.  I do try to assume the best and when evidence gathers to the contrary, still try to sustain an outlook that is as positive as possible.

    I still jump to conclusions and react to certain buttons pushed...I'm no saint!  But it's never due to a simple difference between cultures or skin colors or sexual/political/religious orientations.  Social separation and racial/religious intolerance is among us, so much so that perhaps it is envisioned even where it is not.  Our sensitivity to receiving negative opinions, as well as trying not to show any, may actually create animosity where it did not exist before. 

    I cannot pretend to know what it feels like to be prejudiced against.  I don't know what it is like to be refused common courtesy because I am different.  I sincerely hope that while I'm walking down the street, you don't think that my looking at you is my way of categorizing or labeling you; I hope you don't feel that I feel superior in any way.  I am just observing what I see in front of me, and will save any judgement on who you are once I get to know you better.  Until then, hold your head high and pass on the respect to someone you pass who might be slightly different, and every once-in-a-while, give someone different a little nod of your head.  To two passers-by, is there any greater respect than that?

I wore a tie to the office today.  It had an eagle on it, some red, white and blue, and the words, "We The People...."  In the past, I would only wear ties for holidays, but I changed my habits almost ten years ago.

One hundred nineteen long months ago, my country came under attack like never before.  Our innocence, our naivety stolen before our eyes, in front of the entire world.  In a few short hours, our way of life came to a halt, normalcy was no longer accepted, and we entered a new age filled with an assorted combination of fear and rage as well as cooperation.  Barriers were broken, supposedly never to be erected again, our differences were ignored as hand-in-hand, we combated a common enemy, mourned a mutual loss, rejoiced in a unified spirit.  Stories of personal sacrifice, of heroic endeavors, of attempts to help those in need after the fact...we came alive as a people, recognized our own apathy and vowed to move forward together into a new age, out of our social hibernation, promising a changed attitude toward our compatriots.

Fast forward to the last five years and what do you find?  Drivers are honking in our city streets again.  Crime is regularly reported in the daily news.  Except for holiday weekends, our neighborhoods lie undecorated, our nation's flag virtually undetected.  Republicans and Democrats are bickering, disagreeing over everything, second-guessing each other and themselves.  We are fed a steady course of something new to be afraid of every day.

These circumstances don't seem unusual, certainly nothing about which we should be concerned, except we know different; we experienced a better way of living together - almost ten years ago.

We heard the silence of the streets, felt the patience of other drivers who were previously afflicted with road-rage syndrome.  We read headlines of heroism, patriotism, selfless behavior throughout our nation.  Flags were everywhere, lining our streets, adorning our lapels and collars, necks, heads and torsos.  Politicians set aside their differences in a mutual effort to accomplish something - an unusual feat for certain, but we all saw that it was not impossible.

Now, it seems that our vow to each other made in 2001 has been broken.  The commitment of our leaders has been redirected away from the harmony that was the new norm back then.  Our spirit is sagging as low as it has ever been.

We all try to make a difference in some way...we all try to find meaning in our own life.  Personally, I don't know what my purpose in life is, but I do know that I will not find a cure for AIDS or cancer or the common cold.  I will not discover new lands.  I will not save the rainforests from destruction or the oceans from future oil spills.  My name will not be attached to a future-altering piece of legislation or a Supreme Court decision.  I will not do any of the following:  resolve world hunger or shelter all of the homeless; make "illiterate" an obsolete term; win the Nobel Peace Prize; end the continuing prejudice toward race, creed or gender that just won't go away completely; win the National League Home Run title, becoming a superstar adored and idolized by millions.  I also realize that, barring a major miracle, I will not perform or provide any historically significant act or become a household name. 

So...what do I do with my life?  Am I supposed to make an impact, and if so, how?  Ten years ago, my youngest daughter and I sat on our front step just talking and thinking about the tragedy.  Silently and without knowing, she provided the answer, as children so often do:  I am here to do what I can for those who rely on my presence every day.  Nothing more...nothing less...just be there whenever possible to help those who happen to be within or venture near my personal circle of life.

9-11 lives in our minds as if it happened yesterday, but the lessons may not be quite that fresh.  Even ten years later, I remember sitting with my daughter, watching my neighbors across the street scream and yell and curse at one another...again.  (They're still at it, by the way!)  I remember asking Samantha, "Don't they know what happened?  Don't they recognize what's important?"

Look around you - at your children, your spouse, your parents, your friends, your co-workers.  We all make a huge difference in their lives, just as they do in ours.  We all make a difference every single day because we make a choice.

Today, I chose to spend some time typing this message because recognizing the 11th is important to me.  Reminding people by wearing a tie or sending a note every once-in-a-while is my small way of keeping alive the spirit we all began to feel on September 12, 2001.  This is my way of staying out of hibernation.

Now, don't for a moment think I do this on behalf of Congress or for the White House or because Democrats or Republicans say it should be done.  This is for us; for each other; for our children; for the men and women who have served and are still serving and protecting this country at home and abroad; for those who no longer serve; for those who lost their lives in an attempt to protect our freedom; for those whose innocence was lost ten years ago...forever.

One definition of hibernation is "the act of retiring into inactivity."  Yes, autumn is on its way with winter close behind on its heels, but we all have a choice to avoid the trap, avoid the seduction of hibernation.  It is so easy doing nothing.  It is safe letting others pick up the slack and cast their vote, voice their concerns.  It's accepted to sit back and read the paper, watch the news, listen to our politicians - all without participation.

I hope you'll all agree that a short walk outside to put up a flag could hardly be considered an effort.  I hope you'll all join with me in taking a few moments of your day to make a small difference.  And maybe, together, enough of us can change the current apathy permeating our society.  Tomorrow does not have to be like today, for the future is yet to be written.

I was driving in my neighborhood the other day, when I saw a few children with an adult waving at passing cars.  I didn't know them, so as they waved at me, I assumed they were just having fun to see how many cars would wave back.

We've all done something similar, whether it be waving from one boat to another, pumping our arm at a passing semi so the driver would blare its horn, waving out the window of a school bus to passing cars, etc.  It's a simple act, a game to occupy a few minutes.  To those of us on the receiving end, is it a distraction or an inconvenience?  Do we remember the joy an effortless response might provide?

Now let's transfer this to the "real" world - interactions with cashiers, wait-staff, ticket-takers, toll booth operators, or just someone walking past us on the walkway.  What does a pleasant smile generate in the other person?  Do you pick up someone's spirits with a sincere, "Thank you"?

Think of yourself as the recipient - how do you feel when someone has a pleasant greeting?  Before you say you'd rather be left alone or it creeps you out, think of the alternative, no greeting whatsoever, being passed by as if you didn't exist.  Then think of those unreturned childhood waves and the disappointment at the lack of response.  Now, I'd be the first to say that striking up a ten-minute conversation with a stranger on a path isn't my ideal use of time, but a pleasant "Hello" or "Nice day, isn't it?" can momentarily bring you up just a bit.

What if that spirit is generated through the course of the day...oh the joy it would bring to the world!  It doesn't take much, because we all remember waving at strangers and the excitement when someone waved back.  Let's all wave back...or better yet, let's wave first!

Inevitably, a parent says or does something which is remembered, revisited and embellished by his/her offspring as an example of their ineptitude or general goofiness.  Many have several, but oftentimes a single example stands head & shoulders above the others as a source of amusement.  This fleeting moment is of sufficient magnitude to be passed down through the generations.  I am no exception, much to my chagrin and my now-grown children's delight.

I'm old now, but to the best of my recollection and with an effort to be as truthful as possible without impacting the reality of the moment, this is what happened:

As I was driving along a highway in southwestern Wisconsin (going 55 mph, of course), an insect of gigantic proportions, or at least larger than a mosquito, flew into the car.  Having pre-teen children who were not enamored of creepy-crawly things, I donned my suit of armor, while maintaining control of the vehicle with both hands on the wheel, miraculously keeping the tires between the lines, then proceeded to grasp a napkin and the intruder in that order. 

Now the dilemma - what do I do with the prisoner?

I have no qualms about killing certain insects (ants and wasps indoors or mosquitoes, ticks and flies anywhere), but I do consciously avoid stepping on insects outside and try to maintain a "catch and release" policy for most other insects.  Perhaps this stems from a moment in time in 1981 when I was watching a spider's web as a dragonfly happened by.  I must have been bored and in the middle of a juvenile, "what's it going to hurt" moment when, with a gentle wave of a hand, I guided the dragonfly into the web and to its doom.  The spider pounced on the meal I had just provided and I turned away.  I couldn't watch the carnage that followed, intrigued as I was.  Though others may scoff at its apparent lack of significance, this was a truly life-altering moment for me...except it didn't change my lack of compassion for mosquitoes, ticks and flies.

But I digress...back to my dilemma...

Napkin in hand, monstrously large insect in napkin, said intruder still within confines of vehicle, I had no pre-conception of what to do next.  I also had a not-so-slight fear of an escape, which would result in the creepy-crawler crawling up my arm!  I knew I had to act quickly, and I did.

In one fell swoop - or more accurately "push" - I thrust the napkin toward my open window, opened my fingers ever so slightly to free my captive and allow it to live another day, and promptly released the insect into the wild again.  Much to my disgust, I also released the napkin.

If I had kept my thoughts to myself, I doubt that anyone in the car would remember that moment, and the story would not have been told numerous times at family gatherings; the joy my daughters experience every time they remind me would be lost; perhaps they would currently be suffering from depression, if not for two words I uttered.

Aghast at the loss of the entire package out the window to become roadside litter, my next concern was for the car behind me.  I was not concerned that the napkin would damage or otherwise interfere with their driving; though the insect weighed only slightly less than a brick, the next car was too far back for it to fly through their windshield.  I was concerned, and voiced said concern, that they would see the flying debris and think of me as a "Litterbug Maniac".

I am not a neat freak - I dislike cleaning, though I do it when necessary, but to understand my statement, you have to know a little bit about me. 

I pick up litter...and I enjoy doing it.  When the girls were little, I would use their stroller as my garbage carrier, carefully inserting clean cans and bottles into various compartments.  I have volunteered for years with the local Forest Preserve District, "delittering" lakes from a kayak as well as walking the shoreline and paths.  I have walked through my neighborhood, bag in hand, picking up trash callously left behind by others along the way, and yes - I separate recyclables.  One year in early spring I spent parts of several Saturdays walking along a nearby road adjacent to a Forest Preserve and removed at least 17 bags of trash and recyclables.  (I was tired of driving past this stretch of road every day - the late winter melt exposed so much debris from months of wind blowing from the apartments across the street.)

I started a recycle program at work over 20 years ago and I pack up recyclables on vacation rather than throw them away.  Recently, I had my company join the Adopt-a-Highway program.  One of my favorite all time commercials is from the 60s/70s - the one with the Native American standing by a litter-strewn highway with a single tear running down his cheek.  It still chokes me up as much as a Hallmark commercial.

As you can guess, throwing a napkin out the window, voluntarily or not, is a big deal to me.  So is the fear of being labeled a Litterbug Maniac...it just goes against my nature!  Those two words changed my life as well as my family's. 

I've said other silly things ("You go girl" while substituting for our announcer at a swim meet, comes to mind) and I've perhaps even said some intelligent, inspirational words once or twice (none come to mind, and my daughters have not recalled any at family gatherings).  As I reflect on the importance of that single, silly moment, I wonder what truly would be different had I kept quiet.  Perhaps that moment helped temper other moments of discipline...maybe it allowed my daughters to see that it's ok to mis-speak...maybe it showed them the importance of accepting teasing.  Then again, it might be that this incident reinforced their previously-held belief that their father was/is an idiot and led to an increased rate of rebellion and disrespect that continues to this day.

I do try to watch (and, after that fateful day, limit) what I say.  I do have a reputation to protect for being precise, and as a manager and father, I am supposed to be right most of the time.  But I am not so full of myself to think I don't speak errantly every day.  I've learned to accept it, as well as the repercussions and ridicule in response to my words and actions.  That single moment in Wisconsin helped me in ways I could not have imagined at the time.  Hopefully others benefited as well.

PS - I've never discarded another piece of litter out of a car window since...repetition does a reputation make, after all!