The Miracle of Turning Mourning Into Comfort

The Miracle of Turning Mourning Into Comfort

"Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted". Book of Matthew.

The Beatitudes are familiar platitudes that offer instruction and direction in the nature of righteousness and hope for the afflicted.

  

Taken at face value, the often interchangeable words Blessed and Happy are useful images of grace, but they fall short of reaching the full meaning of the original word "Blessed". In fact, it's not unreasonable to ask how things like meekness, woundedness, persecution and poverty can lead to happiness or a sense of being blessed. 

The mystical overtone of these promises defies common logic and leaves one wondering how it is possible to feel really good in bad situations. Some suggest that the back-loaded reward of each beatitude is not intended to be paid here and now but cashed in on that eternal day when all the crooked ways will be straight and the uneven places leveled. In truth the last beatitude suggests that those brave souls who are  persecuted for being righteous now will rejoice and be exceedingly glad because their reward in heaven will be great. 

It's easy to get into some trouble expecting that all the promises will accrue here on earth, yet there is some immediate reason for hope when reading "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness for they shall be filled" or "Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

That sounds like now to me.

cal review of each beatitude, I want to focus on the issue of mourning and comfort because there is an overwhelming need for comfort, just in my world.  

Mourning is not something anyone willingly seeks, but is something that comes at times of loss. I have learned that the more intimate the loss, the more intense the mourning experience will be. If I spill a cup of coffee, I have an easily remedied loss on my hands, and my mourning should be limited to a flash of gentle anger or a splash of mild self reproach. 

As the consequences and intimacy of one's loss increases, however, the duration and intensity of mourning increase proportionally. When we lose things we may mourn, but because  a reasonably accommodating solution is within our grasp, we forget and go on. 

But when we lose people, important people, or some other irreplaceable commodity, the loss is unspeakably painful and maddeningly persistent. 

Human loss, the most exquisite of losses, takes many forms such as divorce, breakups, abandonments, separations, and the most difficult of all, death. So, as long as there is a possibility for recovery, there is hope. But when death removes our hope of reunion, it's opposite, despair sets in. 

Some people of faith take comfort in the idea that there will be some sort of happy reunion in the hereafter, so the sting of death is removed, at least to a degree and St. Paul suggests that without hope, we are most miserable people. 

He was right. Clearly a loss of some hope leads to despair, but a
complete loss of hope leads to desperation. When we witness a desperate act, there is a hopeless person behind it. 

I understand that some forms of mourning pass quicker than others. When I lost my aging parents, five weeks apart, I grieved intensely several months. And while I continue to mourn now, the acute pain is gone, replaced by fond but fading memories.  

Last year my sister's husband died instantly, without warning. My brother and friend of fifty years was suddenly gone. I still can't believe it and feel a loss that isn't easily overcome - as if overcoming such a loss is the best way to handle such moments. While my mourning was great, my sister's was far greater, and is still acute, every hour of every day. 

Yes, there are things we learn from our losses, hopefully many things, great losses always occupy our frontal lobe. Even when we hear someone is "doing okay", we fool ourselves into thinking that everything is back to normal for them, and they have "gotten on". Truthfully, with great loss there is no more acceptable normal. 

One friend lost her husband four years ago, and when asked how she is doing, she says, "Life goes on but it's not fun anymore". Another couple lost their beloved adult daughter about the same time, and while they don't sit around crying all day, they do spend a great deal of time thinking, sometimes weeping and always lamenting their unthinkable loss. 

Stories abound in all our lives about tragic losses of one kind or another.  Fortunately, there are two dynamics relating to loss that we can address: mourning and comfort. When Jesus said those who mourn will be comforted, even atheists pay attention. 

I BEATITUDE

In the Ancient Hellenistic Greek world, in which may New Testament teachings germinated, the word Blessed took two meanings. 

One was Beatitude, meaning emotional or eternal wellness. It was used to suggest that the inner person can find strength in difficult situations. 

Later Jesus used the word Blessed to describe a spiritual wellness that counters unseemly things like mourning, poorness, suffering and meekness. Such promises are not merely impractical words, but rest on the buttresses of internal strength and emotional calm, which in most cases is enough to carry one through tough times. 

When an individual has inner strength, or the order that creates peace, there is not much they can not overcome. The word Beatitude is variously interpreted as Blessed and/or Happy. Robert Schuller's best selling book, The Be Happy Attitudes went a long way to popularize the inherent power of positive thinking when confronted by difficult situations. It is in the inner parts of our psyche where the biggest battles are won...or lost.

II FELICITY

The other word the Greeks used to describe Blessing is Felicity, or those things related to one's physical and external prosperity. People tend to look at health, wealth or human symbols of success as blessings, even though such things may be the results of hard work, and sometimes good luck. 

For the record, Bill Gates wasn't blessed when he created Microsoft. He paid the price of success and was smart enough, when presented with opportunities,  investing 10,000 lonely hours learning how to make computers hum. The same is true for great musicians, doctors, artists, athletes or teachers. (See Malcolm Gladwell's book, Outliers for more on this subject).

[SIDEBAR: Contrary to what some say, our beautiful house is not a Felicity, it's the result of hard work, saving, sacrificing, wise choices and then making monthly payments, none of which were given to us. Some like to argue that it came from God, but I think if he gave it to us, there would be no loose ends, like mortgage payments. His blessings are undeserved graces, not hard-won outcomes.

Further, if he is in the giving away houses to good people business, why are some mafia homes better than ours, or Mother Teresa types worse?  Does he love some more or less than others?  Or does God operate on a sliding scale that rewards Americans more than Africans? 

Certainly I am grateful for our home, grateful that we have the skills and opportunities to earn the money to pay for it, grateful that I don't live in Nigeria and grateful that we have the capacity to make good choices regarding our resource allocation.]

When I started thinking about the nature of blessing, and the promise of comfort for my mourning sister and others, I discovered what it is that transforms mourning into comfort. It isn't achieved accidentally or automatically, but is both a mystery and an equation. 

First, look at what happens to mourning when three "Blessings" are removed from the equation:

 Mourning - Hope = Despair

 Mourning - Love =  Fear

 Mourning - Time =  Confusion/Turmoil

The absence of time, love and hope leave a mourner in a terrible state. Look at the three results above and see if that does not represent the early stages of mourning. If those three graces are not applied to the mourning soul, it lingers in a dark place.

Fortunately, there is another way of looking at mourning by adding the same three graces:

Mourning + Hope = Peace

Mourning + Love =  Trust

Mourning + Time =  Perspective/Calm

The transformational nature of grace is the secret behind the promise of comfort for the mourning. Grace comes, just as Beatitude does, first to the inner person via words of comfort, and second Felicitously to external issues through the loving and ongoing actions that practically demonstrate the positive power of love, hope and time. 

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted - by those who care. The miracle happens every time. 

Jack C. Getz

February 24, 2016

Sent from Jack's iPad

Satisfying Conversations

I don't like the way modern conversation has evolved. Actually, I suppose the problems with how we converse with one another are not new, but I must say I find most conversations today are more like contest centering on winning, not sharing.

Social media does  not help much because of the new shorthand that dominates communication. most Maybe that's because two fingered texting, has replaced ten fingered typing and the page is now a small box that matches our small attention spans. 

Sadly, LOL!, Good Stuff!, Cool! or Praying! are now considered appropriate responses to any of life's wide-ranging maladies, victories, tragedies, joys losses and even death. "My husband died" can be efficiently covered now to with a "Like", or writing "Praying" or adding a short comment and adding a smiling, frowning or crying emoticon. Think about the Golden Rule in your sharing.  If all you can muster when someone is hurting badly is "Praying", I have to wonder how much that promise plays out past the moment? 

Regardless of how we connect with others in cyber space, I think there ought to be some overarching principles that can assist with the creation of a far more satisfying verbal - or written converse. Here are six ideas taken from my own flawed experience that I get to post because I blog.

1) Listen more than you speak. Obviously if both parties practice this to a fault there, will be silence, something I almost never witness. Sometimes silence is the best way to communicate because it offers time to think and consider the moment.  Thoughtful people appreciate a few gaps of silence, but unfortunately, silence is uncomfortable for most so it's just fire away with all our verbal guns blazing.  If someone broaches a subject that is important enough for them to mention, go with it, don't change it to yours.

2) Don't assume your responses must all be anecdotal. There are people who can not listen to another's story, woes, joys or pain without interjecting their own story, often suffocating the spontaneity of the moment with not-so-clever musings. Usually the boss is the only one who can get away with being long winded and completely anecdotal with every utterance. Short and sweet beats long and boring every time.  

3) Don't try to top the other person's story.  If I am tickled because I found gas for a dollar a gallon, don't feel the need to say you found it for ninety eight cents.  If my wife's child labor lasted three hours, don't think that telling her yours lasted four hours will add anything to the moment. Just go with the original comment and don't assume everything ought to be overshadowed by your amazingness.

Once a fellow pastor assigned to a very small church called me to tell me they had reached thirty in attendance. I reacted immediately by saying "We had forty seven!" Almost every rule above was broken in that very short exchange. I deflated his joy and minimized his achievement in three short words. I have regretted that moment for many years and try to avoid doing it now. 

4) Rejoice, mourn or sympathize with the speaker before you think about how you are going to change the subject or overwhelm with your experience. Focus on this moment, not the next moment. We don't need our immediate feelings minimized, marginalized or monopolized by yours, we need your interest and support.  Steven Covey says it well: Seek to understand before seeking to be understood. 

One time we had friends visiting in the Fall, and I had spent the better part of two days raking leaves (before blowers were around). I bagged and placed about thirty bags by the curb, and when the guests arrived I pointed out the number of bags on the curb. one of them immediately responded with: "Oh, that's nothing! WE had fifty!" See the problem? I foolishly thought my labor was worth something, but in one instant, two days of awful work were tossed aside as being insignificant by six rashly spoken words.

5) Act interested, even surprised, when someone shares a thought or a feeling. Go with the moment for their sake and don't think about anything but them. 

6) Don't finish other people's sentences, or nod to get them to stop talking, unless they are breaking principle number one, or two, or three... Remember, we have two ears and one mouth for a reason. 

Some think the purpose of conversation is to bring the focus to themselves, so no one else really matters. I  have been that person far too many times, and I continue to be that way more than I like, but maybe writing (and reading?) this blog is my way of apologizing for past blunders and hopefully contributing a more civil discourse in the future.  

I'm learning.  

Jack

Greatest Loser Of All Time

The Greatest Loser of All Time

We have all been privy to losing quarterback Cam Newton's post Super Bowl press conference. He appeared on the podium slumped over, hiding inside a "hoodie",  giving one word, or very short, terse answers to questions about the game. He was justifiably upset with the outcome of the game, but his angry demeanor (or was it his woundedness or embarrassment?) generated a huge amount of negative press coverage in the following week.

Was he angry? It looked like it. Was he blaming his teammates? Some say he was. Was he childish? Many said yes, but some apologists suggested he was justified because he is such a great competitor, and all great competitors hate losing.

I am sure that losing irks every champion, and the higher the stakes, the greater the disappointment and frustration. Champions hate losing at anything, something Cam alluded to to at a later date. He suggested that anyone who was a champion at heart was not a very good loser.

Well, that's where I draw the line. I think Cam, at his young age, would do well to take a trip to Ohio and spend time with the greatest winner - and loser - of all time: Jack Nicklaus.  Mr. Nicklaus's is clearly a champion and a competitor, demonstrated by his incomparable golfing achievements, led by his eighteen major tournament victories, a record which will probably stand long after he is gone.

Okay, Nicklaus is clearly a great winner but I say he was an ever greater loser? Gary Player, the great South African golfing icon usually makes this point when reflecting on Jack's place as a god of golf. Player says that everyone knows how great a golfer and champion Jack is but, he was always more impressed by how gracious a loser he was.

For the record, Mr. Nicklaus won his amazing aforementioned eighteen major tournaments, but possibly even more amazing, he finished second nineteen times, in the top five fifty-six times. and in the top twenty five almost one hundred times.   So what you say?  Well, I say that finishing second in a major golf tournament may be even harder on someone than losing a super bowl.

Why? A golf tournament begins on Thursday and ends on Sunday, not even taking into account the practice rounds on Tuesday or Wednesday. That's four days of tournament hard work, requiring unending, intense focus, and mind numbing pressure, often taking place in inclement, hot or cold weather...walking all the way. There is no break for a golfer while while the defense takes the field. It's all about every shot, every decision, every crazy fan yelling "You the man!", and every gust of wind that alters all of one's careful calculations. 

One of Jack's British Open tournaments where he had yet another win, "in the bag" he watched asTom Watson chipped one in from an awful lie off the green to win, or witness Lee Trevino sinking a thirty footer to snatch victory on the last shot of another important tournament. Jack often won tournaments by breaking another competitor’s heart so he kept a balanced demeanor, win or lose.

To lead a golf major tournament may be among the most pressurized situations an athlete can experience. And finishing second, close enough to smell the roses, must be crushing. Golf fans see something like this happen almost every week, cringing or exalting when a competitor misses a four foot putt to lose or drains a forty footer to win a tournament. In virtually every case Jack Nicklaus, or virtually any other golfer agrees to answer questions, not sit, sulk or storm out of an interview.

Nineteen times in major tournaments he finished in second place, and each time, Jack sought out the winner, shook his hand and said something positive and encouraging to him. In retrospect, that example may have been as important to the champion of the trophy.

Yes, winning may build a resume, but losing builds a reputation. Jack's resume and reputation are without blemish and while Cam's resume is amazing, he would be wise to learn how to lose with a little more grace, from the greatest loser of all time, Jack Nicklaus.

The year was 1172...this time.

Maimomedes, the great Rabbi of the Middle Ages, wrote of the latest of centuries of abuse around
Europe and the Middle East, by both Christians and Arab. This was referring to the latest pogrom, this time in the once Jewish region called Yemen...that's right, Yemen.

Nothing changes, except now Israel can defend itself. For those centuries, they were as lambs to the slaughter.

the Epistle,

on account of the vast number of our sins, God has thrown us into the midst of this people, the Arabs, who have persecuted us severely and passed baneful humiliating legislation against us . . . never did a nation molest, degrade, debase and hate us as much as they . . . We have borne their humiliations and falsehoods and the absurdities that are beyond the powers of humans to bear . . . we have trained ourselves young and old to endure this humiliation as Isaiah decreed ‘I offered my back to those who flogged it and my cheeks to those who tore out my hair’ and still we do not escape their constant outbursts. We prefer peace with them yet they prefer strife and war.⁹

Lessons From Weakness - Part Two

My previous blog may have looked like a pity party, but it was supposed to be a lighthearted account of why my blog went dormant for a year. I was virtually blind in one eye for a year, and then I was given a second chance at seeing again and I am compelled to wax.

See the photo journey above. I promised I would ruminate on the lessons of that process, so here are two things I learned from being visually disabled:

1) I used to laugh at old men who said, "If you have your health you have everything". That's simplistic for sure, but the spirit of it is right. When we skip through life with good health, and then start losing it, we are drawn to philosophical and spiritual reflection.

After we have worn out out loved ones with complaints, we find ourselves alone, with something/someone we call God. Simple maladies, much less major issues, transform people into pray-ers. Adversity has a way of making us pray, often for immediate or long term wellness. Unfortunately, when we are well, we forget to express gratitude for good health in equal proportion to our cursing, crying and begging God for relief when we have the flu.

My book (listed above for sale) gets into the fervent nature of our praying when things are bad, and also suggests we migrate away from prayer when all is well. I hate to be crass, but my dad used to tell me when he was getting old that he thanked God every time he had a good bowel movement. He knew how miserable he was when his digestive system shut down, so he wasn't trying to be funny at all. Sure, there are many other things to thank God for that are less distasteful, but his point was well taken: when you have your health, you have everything!

When we aren't working well, nothing else has the capacity to shift our focus from our misery and discomfort.  Some get a really bad draw in life and develop terminal illnesses far too early. Possibly some deaths are brought on by poor living habits, but sometimes joggers drop dead without explanation as well.

Exercise your gratitude every day, and when you need an infusion of power when you feel weak, it will be there for you. If you are well, stay well and if you are not, do everything you can to get well!
That goes for your body, soul and spirit. (I write about the considerable differences between those three things in my book for sale above.)  

Note: In a future blog I will write about the difference between gratitude and thanksgiving.

2) Another old saying leads me to my second lesson: Make hay while the sun shines. We have no guarantee that we will have the tomorrows we hope for. All of us have loved ones who have left us far too soon, and when we understand our mortality, we are wise to reflect on our legacy.

This thought speaks directly to the footprints we leave behind. I left some seriously creepy footprints from one part of my life,  so I purposefully chose to leave my children and grandchildren better imprints, something positive, other than money or quickly fading memories.

One of my greatest achievements in life is that I really wrote and published "my book" (listed above for sale).  It's an audacious thing to do, but I did it anyway. It's a lasting memory of who I am, or who I was at that time. I toy with writing another someday, just to show the changing nature of my ongoing journey, but it took three years of daily, backbreaking writing to finish it, so the thought of doing another one scares me. Maybe that's why I blog.

In the Dedication I tell everyone I was motivated to do the heavy lifting by Barbara, my wife, and my children. I left them something amazing they can have and hold long after I'm gone.  The memories of our good and bad times will wane, so I really love knowing that when I am ashes, they have something tangible that will be there as long as the Library of Congress lasts.

I was here and I can prove it with something more accessible than my neglected tombstone. I don't know if I have more hay to bail, but if I don't get any more put in the barn, I did this one very good harvest. Sadly as I age, there are far too many cloudy days where the sun is not as bright as it used to be for making hay.

Keep looking for your positive lasting legacy, and don't let the clouds keep you from achieving it.

That's enough for now. I would love your comments and stories of your legacies, but I fear the settings on this blog mitigate against that. I'll check.

Jack

I Can See Clearly Now!

December 4, 2015

Fourteen months ago I started noticing strange technicolor floaters in my right eye. These were rainbow monsters with four serrated edges, like a saw, not like of those little translucent islands that most of us have bumping around in our eyes. They usually didn't linger more than a few minutes, but even that was enough for motivate a quick visit to my optometrist. After a careful examination, she made an urgent call to an ophthalmologist (surgeon) to get me an appointment ASAP.

It took a couple of weeks to get a opening in the schedule, and that led to other appointments with optical specialists located on opposite sides of the Atlanta metroplex. But, in a mere two months (sarcasm), I was scheduled for surgical procedure to repair a macular hole in my right eye. Thus the rainbow saws, I guess.

A normal healthy macula

Holey macula Batman! (Mine) 

Before I sound like one of those tedious prayer meeting medical report/requests, suffice it to say I had the surgery (which was nothing compared to the recovery: 24/7 face down to allow the gas bubble they injected to float up, holding the macula secure so it could heal.) and all went well.    

The Thrill of Macular Healing

Never mind asking how that recovery went. It was as awful as you can imagine. Maybe worse. But I did it, and in six weeks at least one of the holes in my head healed perfectly. Good as new, right? (That process only took 6 months too!) Not really. For months I had one good eye and one very blurry eye. so, to compensate for reading, driving and watching TV, I donned a pirate patch and impatiently awaiting the next shoe to drop. Which it did. 

Months of choosing between scary or blind

About three months after the surgery, as the macular specialist warned, my mostly dormant cataract began growing.  You see, the gas bubble that healed the macular hole fertilized the cataract. So, all the good healing juices left behind by the gas bubble, turned my sleepy cataract into a school bully who caused trouble for three more months while I waiting for all the presurgical appointments  to be scheduled and completed. (Sounds like our vaunted new European style healthcare system is working as planned?) 

  

                                                              

                                                                            My Post Cataract Surgical Puss

Happily, the surgery was both routine and successful, and the six weeks since have been occupied by tedious eye drop routines, and more waiting for my final post surgical exam, with new prescription. Then, after another week of waiting for my new lense, viola!! I can see again.

Contemplating the bloggable lessons of a year with bad sight - with new glasses

To be continued...

Jack

   

Thinking about Truth - Quotes to ponder and discuss with good friends.

I have been writing on a book for more than a decade. The reason I don't proceed with is twofold:

1) I have changed dramatically over the past decade and things I believed earlier in my life make little sense to me now. The reason for that is that I am on a truth-seeking quest that takes me to disappointing, if not dangerous places that require courage to openly embrace. 

My mandate is that my ultimate truth must be mine alone, not someone else's.  

2) The chapter on truth has consequently undergone at least a dozen versions, not revisions, versions. The original was designed to demonstrate how much I know, and how much I studied. It was about 95 pages long, and no one - not even my dear mother - could endure that self-seeking blather. Others are shorter, some more clever, and some are scientific, sterile and snooze worthy. I can't get a grip on how to write a chapter worthy of the subject, without sounding overly complicated, or worse, trite. 

I am still contemplating another run at it but my eye surgery and subsequent cataract (still to be removed) keep my writing to a minimum.  

Truth is the most enigmatic subject I have come across. And while brevity is my goal, it's not in my nature, so to honor truth, here are a few thoughts of others that stir my juices and come closes to making my elusive chapter a reality. Note especially the first and the last. 

Enjoy. No, maybe it's better that you be troubled by what you read. 

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It isn't until you come to a spiritual understanding of who you are, that you can begin to take control of yourself. As you learn to control yourself, you will get control of your life. If you want to move the world, you must first learn to move yourself.  

Dieter F. Uchtdorf  On The Wings of Eagles. Self Mastery

Harsh reality is always better than false hope. 

Downton Abbey. Dr. 

The contrary of a truth can never be demonstrated. 

Thomas Aquinas

He that has light within his own clear breast may sit in the center, and enjoy bright day: But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts Benighted walks under the mid-day sun; Himself his own dungeon.  

John Milton (1608-1674)

God is truth and light his shadow. Wikipedia:shadow Psychology

Plato (427 BC-347 BC)

All truth is profound.

Herman Melville (1819-1891)

Truth is what stands the test of experience. 

Albert Einstein

Familiarity breeds contempt. How accurate that is. The reason we hold truth in such respect is because we have so little opportunity to get familiar with it.

Mark Twain (1835-1910)

How dreadful knowledge of the truth can be when there's no help in the truth.

Sophocles (496 BC-406 BC)

A man should look for what is and not for what he thinks should be. 

Albert Einstein

Great spirits are always opposed by mediocre minds. 

Albert Einstein

All great truths begin as blasphemies. 

George Bernard Shaw

All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident. 

Arthur Schopenhauer

Truth bridges the gap between the empirical and the ethereal. 

Jack Getz

Bondages

Quote of the Day

Freedom is not the right to live as we please, but the right to find how we ought to live in order to fulfill our potential.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)


We must, at any cost, find our personal freedom before we can find our individual purpose. Each of us has a unique bondage experience that must be defeated lest we waste a lifetime fruitlessly struggling to find our greatest contribution.

Our bondages include anything that cause us to choose a lesser path than our unique truth demands. Sometimes they look like respectable careers, other times like accepted dogma or even right speech.

Mostly, however, we choose to lock our bondages deep in our souls, fearing their release would force changes in us that we are not willing to face.

These hidden - but never dormant - dark realities always require more of us than we are willing to give, and they are almost always only released by personal crises.

Freedom by an unsolicited crisis is painful and often humiliating, but any who have discovered their individual truth via crisis understands the truth of this musing. As Brennan Manning says, Grace alone allows us to understand that "the worst thing that ever happened to us is the best thing that ever happened to us".

I live and have the temerity to speak openly of these things because of grace. JG

Lessons From The Chicago Little League Cheating Scandal

If you have not heard, a Little League team from Chicago had their international championship stripped away and given to the runner up team today because the coaches and administrators of the team lied and cheated in the registration process. (My cynical side immediately asked why anyone would be surprised by cheating in Illinois - and Chicago - but that's another topic.)

The details are not important at this point so please don't get hung up correcting detail, look at the big picture issues.  This was not - as so many are wont to say when they get caught - a "Mistake". It was deliberate cheating and misleading families and kids into believing everything was done right. Those responsible have been fired, so that's that for now.

I want to say I heard the headline and basic facts on ESPC (some call it ESPN but since they are the most PC group in the media I changed their call letters). I will hear their spin later, but for now this is all mine!

First, I feel awful for the kids. I believe they played great baseball but they won their games on an unlevel field...at least until another team is exposed for the same crime.

Next, this was the first all African American team to achieve what they did. And, I fear these kids will become pawns for the race baiters who crawl out from under their rocks at such times.
My concern for those kids is that they will draw the right conclusions from this tragedy. They will be exposed, I a certain, to leaders who want to make this a race issue. You know the old, "If this were a white team from the suburbs this would not be happening" speeches.

The vipers who hiss the loudest are the racists in my view. They will no doubt do their best to turn this into a victim issue, "us against them" kind of thing like they did in Ferguson and New York earlier this year. They are happiest when rage replaces reason, and they gain speaker's fees for inciting innocent people to "get even".

So what are the lessons these kids should learn? That's not an easy task but here are three big ones:

1) You were robbed by people you trusted. That does not mean you can never trust leaders again, but you need to learn who you can trust. People who talk big, promise everything for nothing and care less about you than themselves are people to avoid.  Parents should be the first line of trust, but unfortunately, not all parents are trustworthy. Jesus said it well: Be harmless as a dove yet wise as a serpent.

Part of maturing is mastering the art of learning who you can trust and who you can't. Trust is not something you should give away all at once. It is built a brick at a time. Making and keeping small promises, as Stephen Covey says, is how we build trust.

Even good people will occasionally stop building well, or even knock a  few bricks down, but watch out for anyone who promises the world when it is not theirs to give. Trust is a valuable commodity we need in our lives...lest we become paranoid and reclusive.

2) This is not about you. If you played according to the rules with personal integrity you are not to blame. You are not required to relinquish your memories or your pride in what you achieved. Don't let anyone turn you into a victim by making you feel you got treated unfairly, especially because of your race. Cling to your feelings of joy that come from being part of something good, not a false shame that isn't your property.

3) When you have a chance to be a leader, at any level, be trustworthy at all times, even when you are out of sight. Partner with people who have integrity and a proven record of being trustworthy. Accountability and transparency are critical tools for every leader. Accept your responsibility and carry the trust of others with care. If you slip, be honest and start from there to rebuild trust as Covey suggests above.  Remember, each of us has the ability to help or hurt, build or destroy each day by our behavior and decisions. Our choices do matter.

Those are a few ideas of how to turn disappointment into something valuable. That may be the most important skill anyone can learn in life, because disappointments comes at us all with great regularity. If these kids can learn that at their age, they have a leg up on life.

There are more lessons I'm sure, but it's time to quit.  

Jack
February 11, 2015

The Dying Art of Satisfying Conversation

I chafe from the way the art of human conversation has evolved. Actually, I suppose the problems I have with the way we talk are not new, but they are becoming far more dominant and far less civil.
In short, I find that most conversations today are far more about winning the point than they are about sharing the moment.

(I am not only referring to verbal communications, but also to cyber conversations.  Regardless of how we connect with others, I think there ought to be some guidelines that will assist with the creation of far more satisfying converse.)

Here are a few suggestions toward a more civil state of communication that clearly dominate my psyche:

1) Listen more than you speak. Obviously, if both parties practice this to a fault there will be mostly silence, but I suspect that two polite people will even appreciate large gaps of silence. If someone broaches a subject that is important enough to mention, go with their flow, not yours.

2) Don't assume your responses must all be anecdotal. Everyone enjoys a good story, but some folks I know have nothing to contribute if it isn't about themselves. Yes there are plenty of folks who can not listen to another's story, sympathize with their woes or embrace their pain without interjecting their own anecdote, often trampling the other person's need at that moment.

3) Don't try to top the other person's story. This one irritates me the most. If I say I found gas for a dollar a gallon, don't respond with the fact that you found it for ninety nine cents. Just go with the original comment and don't assume that everything must be overshadowed by your amazingness.


4) Rejoice, mourn or sympathize with the speaker before you think about your own examples. We don't need to have our feeling minimized, marginalized or monopolized by yours. Steven Covey says it well; Seek to understand before you seek to be understood.


Here are a few quick examples that happen to me in my life that have remained unhealed wounds. In some I was the offender. Others, the offended.


Once years ago a fellow pastor assigned to a very small church called me to tell me they had reached thirty in attendance. I reacted immediately by saying "We had 47!" Almost every rule above was broken in that very short exchange. I deflated the joy of my friend and minimized his achievement in three words. I have regretted that for many years and he knew then what kind of a person I was. I have since apologized.

One time we had friends visiting in the Fall, and I had spent the better part of two days raking leaves (before blowers were around). I bagged and placed about thirty bags by the curb, and when the guests arrived I mentioned that fact. The wife immediately responded with, "That's nothing! WE had almost fifty!" See the problem? I foolishly thought my labor was worth something, but in one instant, two days of awful work were tossed aside as insignificant by six words.

I once shared that I had undergone a surgery that was healing well. Without even a reference to my statement, I immediately heard them shift to a completely different subject never mentioning my original statement. They needed to talk about themselves at any cost.

Or my favorite relates to labor pain or golf stories. The first person to speak does so at their own risk.
"I was in labor for twelve hours" is often greeted by, "Boy you are one lucky lady/ I was in labor for sixteen hours." Or, "I shot a 78 today." Answer: "I never took two puts on the back nine." I sometimes say the first liar doesn't have a chance.

Conclusion:


The examples of rude conversation  are rife, at least in my life.  I do my best to emulate the people who make me feel good when we make contact. They are interested in what I say, they ask good questions or respond with understanding, even humor, not lectures or amazing anecdotes about themselves.

My wife is such a person, and I don't know anyone who doesn't like to be with her. I know others too who are seriously interested in what others have to say more than themselves. Clearly they are secure in themselves, even humble, so much that they don't think it's important to turn every spotlight on themselves. In fact, getting them to talk about their lives is more difficult than lighting a match in the wind.

I need to stop, but if all I have done is make you aware of the need to listen more and win less, my efforts are worthwhile.  Yes, I still do it wrong more than I like, but fortunately I still chafe every time. It's a journey folks.

The Geezer Corps –

Reasonable Accommodations To Military Service For The Aging

Jack C. Getz

November 11, 2014

The nonexistence of America’s war on terror bothers me. Not because I oppose killing our avowed enemies, for in fact, I don’t, but because it stirs up some long-active guilt inside me,  stemming back to my sins of military omission 50 years ago. Although my feelings are irrational, guilt climbs out of its foxhole when I meet soldiers or attend Veteran’s Day celebrations, especially when the music encourages each brand of service the opportunity stand whether fight song is played. Watching the pride on the faces of the vets who often find it difficult to stand either on time, or for too long,  and seeing the universal admiration of friends, families and strangers, creates a lump of regret/envy in my stomach, that usually travels unexpectedly to my throat, and out my eyes as tears.    

Moral opposition to the Viet Nam War was not part of my teenage DNA back then. My creative draft-dodging activities was about one thing and one thing only, my desire to stay alive and whole.  Back then I was actually in favor of the war, until it got too close. In 1965, I was one of probably thirteen college students in the United States who thought the “Viet Nam Policing Action” was a good idea. In fact, I suspect all thirteen of us in the United States believed that keeping Communists from spreading throughout the Far East was in America’s best interests, not to mention the millions facing the horrors of being gobbled up by Chairman Mao’s brand of social reform. 

Watching the Huntley-Brinkley reports of body counts each night, and even losing a couple of friends over there didn’t help. In fact, both of those awful realities steeled my resolve to become a domestic hero at home, protecting college girls and adding another solid C student to my university.   

When things were really hot over there, every you man in America was glued to their black-and-white televisions as the newly-instituted Selective Services lottery ping pong balls popped up, one after another, each bearing either huge relief or debilitating disappointment for millions. When my birthday-ball popped up at #147 I believed someone was already licking the stamp for President Johnson’s personal letter to me, “congratulating” me on my forthcoming tour of duty in the United States Army.  My worst fear then was hearing from dear, sweet, Esther Lockwood, Kansas City’s draft board secretary. 

Now that I am pushing 70, I see things with a little more perspective, mostly because I survived the draft,  avoiding the war completely, except for its residuals of lost friends for seemingly little reason.  

Funny, now that I can’t serve in the military, I wish I could redeem those years. You know, make up for the choices I made back then. Don’t think too badly of me, I became a public school teacher,  later becoming a member of the cloth, giving some pretty good service that way. But my military service vacuum still creates those lumps and tears every once-in-awhile, but no amount of other kinds of service to society diminish those feelings.

I must be a soldier to release myself from that feeling.  

But clearly I am far too old to do military make-ups and and every November 11 I regret that I am not part of that revered group of Americans who served in the military at some time.  I wish there was something I could do now to render front-line help, not just paying taxes and voting. This is not about celebrating myself, as cool as that is, but about contributing more than I have here-to-fore, like putting my life on the line to defend the things I value most about being and American and preserving them for my grandsons.   

In 2006 Congress made a leap of faith, recognizing the military value of older Americans and raised the maximum age for induction into the service from thirty four to forty two. (The lower threshold is still seventeen - with parental permission. 1)  Unfortunately, only the U.S. Army and Army Reserve jumped on that opportunity to add maturity to their ranks, while the party-pooping Air Force and Coast Guard decided twenty seven was a maximum age that could trust someone to play nicely with their jets and boats. 

I take the position that now is the time for America to eliminate all upper-age enlistment discrimination and see who shows up. To cling to arbitrary age standards places millions of valuable older citizens in the same category as children. In the eyes of the military, neither has anything to contribute to their mission.  Sure, a few geriatric soldiers may occasionally forget to turn off their tank’s turn signal, like they do in Florida, but isn’t slightly-flawed aged service better than someone driving a Hummer under fire who needed their Mom’s approval to enlist? 

To help make sense of all of this I spent a day with my neighbor, Colonel Jerry Johns ®, U.S. Army Rangers combat commander and Purple Heart recipient. “It’s different now, Jack. Technology has changed everything.” he said. In WW II and later masses of soldiers and sailors were needed to fight Hitler’s racists and later Stalin’s and Mao’s disguised disposable millions - all of whom transported about in huge planes, slow choppers and gigantic ships. Back then, they thought night-vision binoculars were really cutting-edge technology because they were.   

Speaking of World War II record suggest that in the United States alone, over 16 million citizens served…a out of a population of about 130 million b — nearly one-eighth of the population. With 290 million Americans today c, the current combined size of the armed forces and National Guard is about 2 million d,e. The proportion of service people to the general population was 17 times larger during World War II.” 2  (According to eHow.com on October 12, 2014, the current estimates reduce the size of the military to about 1.43 million.)

The American people today wouldn’t stand for having 49 million soldiers at arms; besides, it would bankrupt our economy just to feed them. In The Future Of War, George and Meredith Friedman say that to feed a typical armored division today takes in excess of 3,000 tons of food per day.3  Based on my highly questionable homespun estimates of what it costs my wife and me to keep the pantry full, it could take about $15 million a day to feed a division of 10,000 - 20,000 soldiers. 4  Oddly, that that may explain why the U.S. military enlistment standards say there is no maximum weight limit to join the United States Military.5

Usually, if my army is bigger than yours is, I will usually win. But as Colonel Jerry says, things have changed. “It’s all about technology now. Six guys can do what a company used to do in Viet Nam because of modern weapons. Heck, they can launch a missile in Arizona that will hit a target in Iraq.” Strangely, even Jerry’s West Point education, 30 years of military leadership, Master’s and law degrees and a Purple Heart don’t keep him from being what the military considers senile. “I wouldn’t know where to begin any more. It’s all changed so much.” 

Lest you think I am suggesting that Jerry is senile, understand that in military jargon “senility” describes anything that has outlived its intended and most effective use. You see, they measure senility by a theoretical ratio between the cost of keeping things against their effective use.   

“The United States today has far and away the most successful military in the world. It has both global capabilities and the ability to bring overwhelming force to bear” and despite logistical, economic and geographical challenges they are “capable of multiplying the power of relatively small numbers of men … rendering these problems obsolete.” 6   

This may be what fuels today’s terrorists when they attack modern senile Goliath's in big buildings, embassies, civilian airplanes and anchored ships. Remember it was a David-sized rubber raft that crippled the mighty USS Cole on October 12, 2000. Virtually every day we hear reports from somewhere of suicide bombers detonating their backpack- sized bombs, killing and maiming thousands.  That’s why we are forced into cattle-like pens at airports and forced to put our dreadfully dangerous open bottles of mouthwash and hand lotion in the protective custody of a zippered plastic sandwich bag.

Great, you say?  That’s all interesting but so what?  

Here’s what. I am considerably shy of being completely senile, despite leaving the water running in the sink from time to time, or venturing out in public with my fly open, so I get those practical concerns about putting me in charge of the red button. So to compensate for age deficiencies I developed a few reasonable Accommodations or helpful Observations that will make military service for the fast-approaching senile feasible.

The Geriatric Accommodation Plan – GAP 

1) Technology  

Accommodation: Enlist people by skill, fitness and experience, not by BFR (Body Fat Ratios) or arbitrary age limits. Allow supply and demand to rule, accepting any individual with skills concomitant to military needs. Or, if you can maintain an active and attractive  Facebook or Twitter account, you qualify. 

             

 2) Mental

Accommodation: Enlisting geezers would make the tough job of military drill instructor much easier. Face it, their goal is to train the body and break the human spirit, making “minds right,”—ala’ Cool Hand Luke’s warden. The Supreme Court case Goldman v Weinberger, (Remember old Cap Weinberger?) reads like a Drill instructor’s manual: “The military must insist upon a respect for duty and a discipline without counterpart in civilian life. The essence of the military service ‘is the subordination of the desires and interests of the individual to the needs of the service.’” 7 

In other words, for the typical geezer married man, the work of indoctrinating and humiliating to achieve obedience and compliance to authority is already accomplished. So, it makes sense and saves save time to recruit old married men.  

3) Basic Training

Accommodation: I suggest the implementation of my Age Adjusted Response Program (AARP) as the cornerstone of this plan. Fir example if eighteen year olds are required to do fifty push-ups and run a mile with a fifty pound pack, the AARP sliding scale says a sixty year old would do fifteen push-ups and run 584 yards with fifteen pound pack. *

*AARP formula: Divide the required task number by the participant’s age. So 100 push-ups divided by eighteen yields a 5.5 “age to task ratio.” (ATTR) Therefore, 100 push-ups divided by age 60 yields an ATTR of 1.66, or about 30% of requirement. The AARP assures that everyone can finish training activities. After all, isn’t that, as Martha Stewart would say, a “good thing?”  

4) Physical Health 

Accommodation: Anticipate health issues by requiring that all graduating Geezers install mandatory pace makers, undergo preventative hernia surgery, have all dentures secured with Crazy Glue and receive complete hip and knee replacements immediately upon enlistment.

5) Medications

Accommodation: All “K Rations” issued to the Geezer Corps should include a two month supply of basics: Blood thinners, glycerin pills, Bayer, Gas-Ex, Beano, Garlica, Preparation H, Tums/Rolaids, Ben Gay, Ace Bandages, Imodium, hearing aide batteries, hard boiled egg cups with timers, matches, decaf coffee pods, low -cal sweetener, Ex-Lax, Cialis (only for emergencies) and spearmint Tic Tacs. The kids can carry all the heavy high- tech weaponry. Geezers will be much more productive in the long run if allowed to carry their fifteen pounds in meds.  

6) Don’t Ask Don’t Tell

Observation: For the record, on no less than seven times the Supreme Court has ruled against hampering the military with the frivolous nature of Title VII or the Federal Civil Rights Law of 1964. 8  Everyone, except old people, are welcome in the military. We clearly need a ground swell of “gray panthers” to pressure Congress to gradually eliminate military age discrimination and eliminate all age-related question from soldiers. Unfortunately, time is something we don’t have enough of to burn.    

7) Life and Death

Observation: Some say that old age and treachery trump strength and youth. While controversial, it is undeniable that the more skill, experience and maturity one brings to the table,  the less age should matter. In fact, one wily Army veteran once told me, “I guarantee if a world-class surgeon wanted to join up today they’d make them a general tomorrow!” Aren’t most geezers at least as emotionally stable as the lady astronaut who drove across country in a diaper to shoot her romantic rival?

I am now prepared to die in battle if it means I go out in a blaze of glory with a few modern dozen terrorist infidels in tow. If you doubt that Geezers are disposable than the kids check out our new health care system. Clearly, many would proudly volunteer to be part of America’s first elite battalion of fifteen pound backpack, diaper-clad Geezers, especially when so little training is required.  

What now?

A few days ago in the mall, I spotted a gent who proudly wore his USS Donner cap. Here was a real World War II hero with a second opinion about my Geezer Corps idea.  Ron Huch (pronounced Huck), is a spry 82 year old, as tough as his name sounds.  Ron who told me he loses 1,200 WW II buddies each day, listened warily but soon smiled and said, “Yah. I suppose it could work…depending on the individual.” to which he added, “As long as they do their duty, keep up and not endanger anyone. Sure. Why not?” What else is needed? And authentic WW II hero endorsed my idea. 

Admittedly, there’s a long road ahead for this “win-win” campaign to be accepted, especially by another WW II vet.  And sadly, by then, I‘ll probably be too old to contribute much anyway.  

But maybe, just maybe, the next generation of Geezers will benefit from my campaign, and I can live with that. But right now, I maybe ought to go check out the military history channel and remember the sacrifice the real heroes made that make it possible for me to sit and ruminate about how I wish I was one of them. 

Thanks for your service. 

 1-  About.com:US Military website. (About.com/od/jointhemilitary/a/enliststandards.html)

  2- Darrellplant.com. http://www.darrelplant.com/blog_item.php?ItemRef=71. 

1 Universal Almanac (1994), p.126,
² Universal Almanac (1994), p.282,
³ U.S. Bureau of the Census Web home page
⁴ U.S. Department of Defense Directorate for Information Operations and Reports, Active Duty Military Strength by Fiscal Year - FR 1950 through FY2002.
⁵ Army National Guard web site, Financial Statements 2003

3- The Future Of War George and Meredith Freidman. Page 32  

4 -http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Military_division. 

5-About.com:US Military website. (About.com/od/jointhemilitary/a/enliststandards.html)

6 The Future Of War George and Meredith Freidman. Page 19 

7 About.com:US Military website. (About.com/od/jointhemilitary/a/enliststandards.html)  

8  Ibid.

Copyright 2014

Jack C. Getz

Tucker, Georgia

It's called Small Ball

Last night many of us witnessed one of the greatest games ever played in baseball history. I know it's the most exciting game I've seen in my sixty plus years of watching baseball. It had everything to keep us riveted for hours. Two great pitchers not used to losing. Power, speed and the x factor of a one game play-in to the post-season.  Each team had it's own compelling story this year,  making them both worthy objects of cheering.

For me, and some older folks, it was even more than all of that.  Both teams have a great place in Kansas City sports history.

The Kansas City A's called the old Metropolitan Stadium home, along with the upstart American Football League Chiefs, in the sixties. Charlie Finley owned the team and tried everything under the sun to get people to the park to see the A's play. Many called them the Yankees farm team since a good number of their best players ended up going to New York.  The old ballpark was amazing then. There was the first major league picnic area, a white mule named Charlie, a petting zoo, and a mechanical rabbit that came out of the ground behind the home plate umpire holding a basket of baseballs to replenish those lost during the game.

Finley was a marketing genius, probably driven by financial necessity and survival. I was present for a number of A's games, the most memorable two were Campy Campaneris Night, when the talented shortstop played all nine positions in one game. He rotated each inning to the next place and played ball, like we all used to do as kids.

The other night was, incredibly, a night when they gave the Negro League's super star, Satchel Paige, a one game contract to pitch for the A's in a real game. No one knew his age then, but reports were he was in his sixties. I thought the old codger might die, only to realize that I am now older than he was then. He did well and amazed everyone, causing us to wonder how great he was in his prime. I recall Findley did this to allow him to receive some benefit from being a major leaguer.  I will leave that memory fact to be checked by you, if you are interested!

But as pressing financial realities became more evident, Charlie Findley took his team to Oakland, where they continued to hold their place as the most innovative team in baseball, introducing white shoes, colorful uniforms, and a string of amazing teams that occupied the winner's circle for many years. Again, that's something worth researching if you don't remember it.

Meanwhile, back in Kansas City, we felt abused, betrayed and angry about losing our A's. It was humiliating and I do not exaggerate when I say the loss was palpable everywhere in town. We were a great city that felt like a bride left at the altar. Thankfully we had the Chiefs to keep us feeling like we mattered, at least a little. (They played in the first bi-league championship before it was called the Super Bowl in 1966. We lost to the Packer's, and  despite the score held our own most of the game. Research that too if you don't remember it.)

Then, a heroic man named Ewing Kauffman came along and restored our pride, purchasing a MLB franchise and naming them the Royals! Everything about that was refreshing and happy. The city went crazy for it's team, and especially adored it's first super star, George Brett. The Royals had done something right because a string a great players came to KC and set up a little dynasty of excellence: Freddy Patek, Willie Wilson, Bo Jackson, Dan Quisenberry, John Mayberry, Willie Wilson, Frank White, Lou Piniella, Clint Hurdle, Amos Otis, Cookie Rojas, Paul Splittorff, Dick Drago, Ted Abernathy, Moe Drabowsky, Steve Busby, Hal McRae...help, I can't stop!!!
Check out http://www.baseball-almanac.com for more.

SMALL BALL

Anyway, we learned to love the Royals because the played small ball. It differs from most of what we see today, which is driven by the huge contracts home run hitters get. So everyone swings for the fences so they can get mentioned on Sports Center and get a bigger contract next time. It's exciting when  it works, but it's no way to win. You win in the long run with good pitching, defense, timely hits, stolen bases and forced errors. The Royals last night reminded us of the glory days when Wilson, Otis, Patek and others would get on base, steal second, often then third and George Brett would double them in, followed by John Mayberry and others popped the occasional long ball to excite the fans.

We loved the game last night because it was the battle of David and Goliath all over again. The bombers and great pitchers of Oakland made it look like a four run lead was insurmountable. John Lester, the Oakland ace was something like 48 and 1 when he had a three run or larger lead. He had that lead last night but the pesky base-stealing singles-hitting Royals chipped away, and in the bottom of the twelfth, Salvador Perez, the guy who wildly swung and killed two winning efforts, spanked a hot liner past the third baseman into right, scoring the winning run. I admit, I gave up on them in the 6th inning but kept watching because they stirred something deep inside me, reminding me of the glory days.

Sure, the old A's fan in me smarted as I saw the looks on their faces after the game. What a horrible heart-break for them and their fans, but last night, at least, the old small ball philosophy of baseball made a comeback with the Royals. Maybe they can keep it going into the playoffs, maybe not, but I know I will be watching and pulling for them. It's the way baseball used to be played and I miss it.

Maybe my big-swing Cubs will watch how it's done?