Month: August 2018

Somehow it seems appropriate to repost this blog on this day. 

I grew up on a rather heavy diet of reading, and my first forays into the written word were fairytales followed by stories of the lives of the saints. I admittedly felt that perhaps those icons of religion were more superhuman than I thought possible, and so the ones like St. Theresa and St. Augustine who were flawed like I was became my favorites. Eventually I developed an addiction to biographies of famous people in which I learned of the human frailties of some of my heroes who nonetheless impressed me with their courage. In those critical moments when the world needed them to overcome their weaknesses, they rose to the occasion. Profiles In Courage was like a kind of historical Bible to me that outlined some of the finest stories of humans who were willing to risk everything to do what they believed was right. I suppose that I learned much about character from the many volumes that I devoured, and in the process I began to believe that there are special people among us who have the same imperfections that we all possess but also a moral foundation and strength that separates them from the pack. The list of my heroes is long and eclectic but one of the traits that all of them shared was a willingness to admit to wrongs. They understood their own imperfections and fought internally to eliminate them, but in their humanness they sometimes lost those battles. Mostly though they were able to follow a path of righteousness no matter how difficult it sometimes became. People like Mother Theresa, Martin Luther King, Jr., Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln, and Gandhi have sometimes been picked apart by people who have concentrated more on their mistakes than on the totality of their dedication to justice and compassion. I prefer instead to view them from an assessment of their willingness to make difficult and even dangerous decisions in order to do what they believed to be right. Sometimes it seems as though we have a dearth of heroes in today’s world. I admire Pope Francis for his loving candor and I think that Jimmy Carter is one of the kindest people on the planet, but in general there is far too much tribalism and anger. Those who apologize for their missteps are often deemed to be weak or wishy washy. Instead we seem to prefer people who barrel ahead with bravado even when it is obvious that they are wrong. We mistake anger for courage, bullying behaviors for strength. From out of the crowd of puppets and posers a true American hero has emerged, and his name is John McCain. John McCain is an interesting fellow. He’s from a military family who expected him to serve his country, something that he initially did willingly but with little enthusiasm. It was not until he became a prisoner of war during the Vietnam War that he began to truly understand what it means to be a patriot. His injuries were so extensive that to this very day he is unable to lift his arms to comb his own hair. When offered the opportunity to be freed simply because he was the son of an important military figure, he insisted on following the tradition of going in proper order. After much torture he broke at one point, a fact that haunts him to this day, but on the whole he demonstrated a kind of bravery that few of us would have been able to muster. Upon his return to a normal life after the war was ended he struggled to know what to do with his life. His marriage foundered, another flaw for which he takes full credit. When he finally found himself he knew that he wanted to be a public servant and began a decades long career as a Senator from Arizona. His military background led him to believe in the necessity of working with his colleagues rather than fighting them. He often disagreed with their ideas, but was willing to find ways to allow everyone to win for the sake of the country. He was admired by his fellow lawmakers regardless of party affiliation and created lasting friendships along the way. He was a principled man who believed that it was indeed possible to stand for certain ideals without ignoring differing points of view and finding common ground. Twice John McCain decided to make a run for President of the United States. In 2000 he lost his party’s nomination to George W. Bush, but came out on top in 2008. He had wanted to choose Joe Lieberman as his running mate but was talked out of that idea by his handlers, a moment that he still regrets. His campaign never really got off of the ground because he lacked the charisma of his opponent Barrack Obama, and his own party viewed him as being weak, lacking the kind of fighting spirit for which they were searching. He instead gave them fairness even to the point of defending Obama against false accusations. The fact that he was a good man seemed to have little appeal to the electorate. John McCain has continued to be his own person, even as his party has taken a direction so unlike him. He votes according to his conscience, a trait that is all but lost in the present political arena. He voices his beliefs even when they are unpopular. He refuses to be beholden to the pressures of a base or the leader of any party, and while I may not always agree with his ideas, I am in awe of his conviction. Now he is dying and in his last moments on this earth he continues to show us how we should live. He is truly among the greats in my estimation and I hope that other politicians are taking note of his character because men and women like him are all too lacking. I would like to think that the madness that is present day Washington D.C. is temporary, and that one day we will come to our senses as a nation and insist that our country be run by men and women who understand the necessity of working together for the welfare of all of us. I would like to believe that collegiality and respect will return. John McCain has demonstrated how to do that throughout his lifetime. Notwithstanding comments from our current president, he is indeed a hero.

It’s hot out there, folks. The temperatures have been reaching one hundred degrees and I’ve been thinking of how I lived without air conditioning until I was almost twenty one years old. I’m neither bragging nor complaining. but just wondering how in the heck I was able to do that. Now I live like a virtual hermit in air conditioned comfort on really scorching days.

Not long ago the air conditioner in my car went out. I had to roll around town with the windows open. It was not fun, and my hair did not behave well with the wind blowing it around. I’ve become one hundred percent spoiled by the cooled autos and rooms that have become the norm in my city. I have unlearned the ability to survive well with open windows and fans as have most of my fellow Houstonians. Sometimes businesses and schools even shut down when the air needs repair. We break into sweats and have trouble breathing in environments that were once a way of life around here.

The local NPR station is featuring historical looks at previous hurricanes this week. When discussing hurricane Ike from 2008, they mentioned the massive power outage that came from the punishing winds. It still ranks as the largest in our state’s history. Of most concern was that people would die without air conditioning and such. It made me wonder if people died when there was no electricity at all? Were people tougher back in the day?

My husband’s ancestors settled just north of downtown Houston when Texas was still under the rule of Mexico. In the 1840s there was obviously no air conditioning or lighting or any of those things. People found ways to cope with the punishing heat of our summers, just as I did when I was young. I suppose that our bodies adapt to conditions after a time, but when does it become so bad that there really are people dying? What would we do if we had to sleep with our windows open. Would we be afraid for our lives? All kinds of questions come to mind.

It’s human nature to complain that there isn’t enough of this or that no matter how well off a person may be. For the very poor just having a roof, food to eat and a safe place to eat is a daily struggle. There are a growing numbers of homeless people in cities and towns across the country. As the price of rent get higher and higher there are those who cannot afford the most basic of necessities. I rant about heat, when there are some who would be happy just to have a place that allows them to escape the elements. Worldwide there are more individuals living in abject poverty than there are those who at least have the bare minimum. I have to admit to feeling a bit guilty for complaining that my truck is temporarily warm.

I try not to take things for granted, but I do more often than I would like. I forget that there are no doubt many who are suffering from the intense heat with no hope for a change on the horizon. I always knew that there were children in my classroom who enjoyed more food, cooler temperatures and more safety than at home in their own neighborhoods. (Not withstanding school shootings these days.) I tried to remember what it was like to live with temperatures soaring inside the house, and how it felt to open the refrigerator to see that the food supply was running low. My mom found ways to stretch what we had so that we never once missed a meal, and she had a way of keeping us grateful for what we did have rather than pining for more. Some of my students were not that lucky.

I’ve thought a great deal about how things once were and still are for some as I have read To Kill A Mockingbird with my grandson. I’ve had a number of discussions with him because I can tell that he is shocked by the portrait of the south when an innocent man was all too often found guilty of a crime that he did not commit. I’ve seen the cotton fields near my grandson’s school and thought of the enslaved people who worked under the searing sun picking the crops that made their masters rich. I’ve remembered how lucky I was even without air just because I happened to be born into a family of European descent. I’ve thought of all of the opportunities that allowed me to accumulate the trappings of the middle class.

My entire house is now donned with luxuries that I never even dreamed of owning when I was young, things that everyone seems to have these days. I rarely have to wash a dish by hand. I haven’t mowed a lawn in years, and even when I did I rode on a tractor. My refrigerator keeps me well stocked with ice. My air conditioner runs at an even seventy five degrees, fooling me into believing that it is cool even on the hottest days. My television has a screen as large as a picture window and the characters are all in living color. I carry a phone in my purse and I type my blog on a laptop that literally sits on my lap. I am able to download a book in seconds and begin reading right away. Such things have become so common place that I forget to be thankful for them.

My car will soon enough be repaired and the cool air will keep me happy and fresh as I go on my errands and to my appointments. I plan to remind myself how lucky I actually am instead of forgetting about the many people who have never even experienced such a lovely luxury. That is what it most truly is, a bountiful way of living that has become an expectation rather than a joy.

It’s hot out there and hopefully we will all stay cool until the fall comes to make the temperatures more bearable. In the meantime we would do well to be thankful for whatever we have.