Week from hell

Sorry but please allow me to vent...from my bench in the Tampa airport...where I'll probably spend the night.

I should have been hitting Louisville on I-65 in the next hour. Instead, it would appear I've headed the wrong direction. Let me backup to Thursday of last week to give you the full picture of how Karma's working against me.

The brakes on my Volvo went totally AWOL after picking my girls up from school. I managed to turn a potentially dangerous accident into a laughable fender bender. In fact, my girls and I laughed at our dumb luck. We were not harmed and their safety is my utmost priority. My car needed rear brakes last November, but short on the $500 needed I put it off. Now, I'm faced with a $1,000+ repair bill which is near what the car is worth. It is sitting at Vol-Car awaiting those repairs.

I didn't really have time to worry about the Volvo since my mom had major surgery scheduled and I was planning to go up and support dad this week. My car was definitely secondary. Mom made it through surgery and a partial day in ICU, but the wait on Tuesday was killing me...and I hated that I was not there. But I also knew that two of my sisters were there for her and dad.

My trip was planned for today so that I could help dad with his move to a smaller, more manageable house for him and mom as she navigates the effects of terminal illness. I really wanted to be there tonight. As you know from my intro, that's not happening.

Stuck in Tampa for the night, I only have funds to get back to Tallahassee tomorrow. Very bummed. Majorly disappointed.

I went round and round with Dollar Car Rental from Monday til this morning...always an issue with their debit card policy. I found a great round trip airfare from Tampa for less than the drive up ther in a rental, so I called a cab to get me from Tallahassee airport to the waiting RedCoach that brought me to Tampa. Bus fare was about equal to a tank of gas so that was cool. What wasn't so cool was RedCoaches' bus breaking down during a stop at USF, one half hour short of my airport destination. Split an Uber fare with another stranded passenger and finally made it to TPA just before 5pm. Problem is the Expedia fare that led me down here--which I could not book online due to traveling with cash in hand--was MUCH less than what I could actually fly to Indy on using cash at the counter. They wanted $350+ just to get me there. So travel plans now scrapped, I'm blogging from the arrivals area of Tampa International reflecting on this week from hell.

I'm very thankful that all the people I love most in this world are safe. That's the main thing. Mom is recovering and my girls are safe at home. I just hate the cruel tricks and curveballs Karma has thrown my way...and not sure what I did to deserve it. It's been an uber stressful week and I just wanna sleep in my own bed tonight.

---UPDATE 05/28/15---
Come to find out that part of my debit card troubles stem from a Hotwire reservation that I cancelled and even received email confirmation stating that my card wouldn't be charged. It was. What's more, the hotel that declined my card last night put a pre-authorization hold on my card that neither they or the credit union are willing to do anything about. I had both parties on the same call just now, each pointing the finger at the other. SO FRUSTRATING! I've run into problems every time I've tried to use my debit card this week. Good thing I carried some cash with me. So over this trip and this stressful week.

SMDH, Hoosier State! GEEZ!!!

I'm going to post a parable of sorts. You know parables...the Bible is full of them.

Well, in this parable a 500-lb man goes to church/synagogue/temple/gathering everyday that they assemble. And after every assembly, this man drives his oversized vehicle to the oversized buffet at his favorite restaurant. While gorging himself on unhealthy foods, sending his blood pressure through the roof due to clogs in his arteries, he forgets that the plate which passed before him at assembly was largely empty. When it was passed, the assembly he attends was raising funds for starving children in East Africa. And though, he had a wad of cash in his front pocket, he let the plate pass by without giving it a second thought. While he consumed massive amounts of fried food at the buffet trough, another kid in Africa starved to death.

In this parable, you might say that the 500-lb man is a glutton. You might also note that there are plenty of Scriptures about gluttony. I haven't researched it on BibleGateway.com, yet, but I'd bet there are AT LEAST AS MANY references to gluttony as there are to, say, homosexuality. Yet, I've never seen one buffet, one church or one segment of the population picketed, singled out, ridiculed or "exposed" for their sinfulness because of gluttony.

Recently, the Hoosier State, that I'm sometimes ashamed to call home, passed a law allowing businesses to discriminate. And it's not gluttons they are targeting, but homosexuals. They aren't telling the world's greatest hypocrites to take their business elsewhere. Fornicators? WELCOME! Adulterers? Come and spend your hard-earned cash. But "the gays" better just keep on walking. Apparently, that sin trumps all others. And the guy in our parable is welcomed at church and the buffet line with OPEN ARMS.

Hoosier lawmakers, I'm ashamed of you. I really am. Why must you thrust our state back into the 1950's? What gives religious people--business owners or otherwise--the right to discriminate based on ANYTHING? And if you're going to call a spade a spade, well then let's get all the fornicators, adulterers, liars and gluttons lined up and labelled, as well. I hear the Germans still have a few of those yellow stars laying around, somewhere!

Guns

Let me just say that I'm not a gun rights advocate. I've never owned weapons of any kind, unless you count the rustic bow and arrow I made in Indian Guides. I can count on one hand the number of times I've actually fired a gun.

That said, I find some humor in memes like the one below that was recently posted to social media by an old acquaintance of mine.

I mean, just the image itself is comical. It's 2015 and you're posting pictures of our very first President from some 230+ years ago and what he said about bearing arms. Do you really think George Washington could foresee some disgruntled Montanan with an arsenal that would make some third world countries salivate? He wasn't advocating the individual rights of citizens to stockpile grenade launchers, automatic rifles or weapons of mass destruction. That's simply ludicrous.

I know there are some gun rights nutjobs that foresee a looming zombie apocalypse and so they have to be prepared, but for the sane among us, we trust our government and our military to protect us from national threats, and our law enforcement and National Guard to protect us locally. We have no real reason to suspect that zombies, or any other threat, will be travelling neighborhood-to-neighborhood or door-to-door wreaking havoc.

We don't live in 1776 among tyrants with their own militias. We don't have towns waging mini-scale wars against each other. Nor are we going to devolve into some third world country controlled by nomadic warlords anytime soon.

And how long has it been since we settled our individual disputes with guns anyway. Even people from Oklahoma to California don't draw weapons in the street to settle disputes anymore. Well, maybe if you live in Compton, but that's another culture altogether. This isn't the Wild Wild West, people. We settle disputes through our court system, not through vigilante justice.

So why do we blindly defend the 2nd Amendment, written in a different era by men who were forging a new government, as if it means every Joe Blow in 'Merica should own 20 guns?

Author Michael Waldman has studied the 2nd Amendment and has a keen perspective on what the original framers were aiming for. "But when you actually go back and look at the debate that went into drafting of the amendment, you can squint and look really hard, but there's simply no evidence of it being about individual gun ownership for self-protection or for hunting. Emphatically, the focus was on the militias." (His full interview with Mother Jones is here).

We call them our volunteer National Guard now. They are the only militia we need. That is, unless you are some coked-out conspiracy theorist who believes our government--by the people, for the people--is so corrupt that it's out to kill us off one-by-one. Our government is NOT some other-worldly synod made up of cyborgs and Sith lords. They are just plain old citizens like you and me. Likewise, our "militia" is made up of mom's and dad's who sign up to be weekend warriors and stand ready to defend us.

Again, this isn't 1776, so for someone to post the meme above to Facebook is truly laughable to me. I'm really not scared that the British are coming. Nor am I worried that Blountstown is going to get so disgruntled with the way Tallahassee is running this state that they are going to take up arms and march down Highway 20 to bombard our city. At no time now or in the future will I have the need to take up arms against my brother over some land dispute. No, we will not be choosing weapons and marching any number of paces. I may choose to slap him with a pair of white gloves, but then it'll most likely just end in us rolling around on the ground, slapping and yelling profanities at each other. Ah, the good ol' days...but I digress.

We are a civilized nation. We've invested trillions into our national defense. And at the local level, we have armed security called Guardspeople and law enforcement officers. They are well equipped to defend us. So unless you live in Compton, do you really need that AK47?

Grandma Jesus and you

Since writing about Hashbrown Jesus last week, I've gotten a lot of positive response about that post. My family especially liked it. I went back the next evening for a late night snack and to see if I could catch HJ's real name (it's Gary, btw), but he wasn't working. My waitress, however, was there and she verified his story--his name, how he lives, how long he stays and works the grill at Waffle House every year.

As I reflected on that today, I remembered meeting Jesus on Christmas Day last year. Yes, just one month and one day ago. She walks the Earth, known to her contemporaries as Ms. Annie, but she lives and serves in a part of town known by locals as Frenchtown. I'm going to call her Grandma Jesus because that's what she has been to hungry people at the holidays for seventeen years.

And just like HJ, you'll find her among the downtrodden, the outcast, the poor and the marginalized because she, but for the grace of God, is one of them. We are ALL one of them. But we don't realize that in stooping down to serve, we get more out of the encounter than those we mean to serve. And do you know why? Because THOSE people are Jesus!

Did He not say that when you give your coat to warm a homeless person, you are in fact helping Him? I take those holy texts very literally. I know that when I fill a cup with water at the homeless shelter, I'm not doing it for nameless vagrant with the smelly clothes, the mussed hair and the dirty fingernails. I'm doing it because I look into that person's eyes and I see the face of the Divine.

If we will go hang with the homeless, the destitute, the prostitute, the marginalized in our society, we will see Jesus. Why are so many waiting for trumpets and a second coming? He's here, already, and He told us to be on the lookout. He's not carrying any cross this time, except the one we label Him with--homeless, beggar, queer, freak...(insert any label you want, here). He'd certainly appreciate a dollar, a warm meal, a friendly smile or someone to wash His dirty feet.

Will that someone be you?

Evaluating Birdman

I was captivated by this movie from the opening scenes, the witty dialogue between actors Keaton and Galifianakis and the drum-centric soundtrack (note: the drummer makes a few cameos throughout the film). In fact, I'm going to have to say that this is my most favorite movie soundtrack EVER! The jazz drum soloing seemed to fit the movie perfectly, but more importantly it suited my tastes to a "T."

But it was more than witty banter and cool drums. This movie struck a chord with me that is still resonating in my innermost self. I likened it today to the way the movie "Dead Poets Society" stuck with me at age 21. This was the middle-aged version of that movie.

Obviously, it's resonated with many movie-goers and cinema critics, alike. Which in itself is quite funny, since the movie takes a scathing look at snobby, theater critics. It also seemed to this movie-goer to be an autobiography of Keaton's real-life career. It's not a stretch to see his Birdman persona as the Batman he portrayed, ironically, the same year that "Dead Poets Society" was released (1989).

But it was more than autobiographic. It was emotionally stirring and hit WAY TOO CLOSE to home. A middle-aged man struggles with the path his life has taken. You know, us 40-somethings love to take stock at the supposed midpoint of our lives (as if we're all going to live to the ripe old age of our mid-80's). He's frustrated with his career path and attempts to reinvent himself, pouring himself completely into what he sees as a more worthwhile pursuit. Aren't we all taking stock and trying to gauge what exactly our legacy will be?

More importantly, he reassesses his relationship with his estranged wife/significant other, his daughter and his current female friend/co-star. His daughter, played by a personal fave, Emma Stone (those eyes! those cheekbones! that wicked smile!!!), is a complete mess, thanks in part to her father's absence in her life. You know, girls need their daddy's quality time. He's pretty much cut to the quick by her in one scene. The look on Stone's face is priceless after she realizes what she's done to him with her sharp tongue. It's quintessential Stone. She's a great actress, just by her facial expressions.

And this is where I'll note what a stellar job the casting director did. Not only did the casting director do her absolute best, she chose some of my favorite actors, including Stone (as noted above) and Edward Norton. I have loved his innocent-yet-devious, childish mug ever since I first saw "Primal Fear," in which he played an angelic-demonic altar (alter) boy. Zach Galifianakis has to be my absolute favorite comedic actor of the millennial era. His muted antics are a perfect fit for the film, much like the kick-ass soundtrack. As I said, his reparte' with the lead man in the first 10 minutes had me laughing out loud. He's just a funny guy and his timing is spot-on! I'd love to see the outtake reel of he and Keaton, who is very funny in his own right (I submit "Mr. Mom" as Exhibit A).

So casting, music, storyline...everything was right with this picture! I didn't even mind the quirky ending, which was reminiscent of "Big Fish" (2003, Ewan McGregor). No, I left the cheap theater very pleased and entertained. Introspective, but in a good way. Seeing much of myself in Keaton's exterior character, Riggan Thomas, and "Birdman," the low-tenored voice inside him. The war he raged with himself, the demons he fought, were all too real to me (more than I'd care to admit, but I think I just heard a cat let loose).

I'd recommend this movie to any guy my age. I'll bet any of you 40-somethings who were once moved by Dead Poets will be equally entranced, moved and amused at this movie. I'll probably own it on DVD one day, but who knows. I don't own a copy of Poets. Maybe it was just the right movie at the right time. Still, go and see for yourself. I promise you, if you are a drummer, you will dig the soundtrack!

I met Jesus today...

...He was flipping orders of scattered, smothered, covered hash browns at the local Waffle House. Didn't catch his human name, but he's the graveyard shift grill cook there.

We struck up a conversation over my plate of browns, topped with scrambled eggs and thick, warm sausage gravy. I found out he has a "real life" down in south-central Florida where he runs a number of fresh produce stands. But six-months out of the year, Hashbrown Jesus lives in Tallahassee...in the woods...amongst the homeless.

I came to this divine revelation simply by asking about and old, homeless lady I had the honor of sharing breakfast with at that same counter only a month ago. It was Christmas morning and I found the only seat at the service counter, next to her. Wondering how this frail, little widow survived the cold nights of early 2015, I asked Hashbrown Jesus how she was doing.

He informed me that "Martha" (we'll call her Martha for this article), was doing fine and had been accepted into a home for women. At Christmas time, it had rained for days and Martha had complained to me that her tent had sprung a leak, so I dug up some dry things to give her to keep her warm. Well, come to find out, HJ was now the proud occupant of her tent and he'd secured it with a new tarp over the top.

He's one of the homeless who live in the woods near I-10 and US 27 here in Tallahassee. I don't know the precise location of the woods, but I suspect there are a good number of transient residents therein. I know of one other elderly lady whom he looks after while he's in town.

"I live as a homeless person, by choice," he tells me at my early morning breakfast. That way, he says, he can identify their needs, help them and relate to them better. If that's not being Jesus in the most real of ways, then I don't know what is.

And come to think of it, it's no surprise to me that we'd find Jesus out there in those woods amongst the homeless in modern times. We might also spy him frequenting a bar, a synagogue or the solitude of the trails around Lake Lafayette. Needless to say, he wouldn't have a home. He's not of this world.

Neither is Hashbrown Jesus. Who leaves the comfort of home for six months out of the year to live in the woods of north Florida where the December-January temps often dip into the 20's overnight??? "I keep warm with a small Coleman cooker. You know the kind with the green propane bottle?" I could just picture HJ huddled over a small fire, warming his nail-scarred hands over the blue flames on those wintery unFlorida-like nights. I imagine he has those ladies closeby him, sharing the warmth.

That conversation with HJ will stick with me for a long time. I am a better person for having met him this morning. I was both humbled and blessed by the encounter.

#kickcancersass

Trying to get traction for the new hashtag:

#kickcancersass

Use it liberally and be sure to like my new page on Facebook.

HEL-LO 2015!!!

When I posted twice on Christmas Day about my day of volunteer service, I wasn't attempting to blow my own horn. It was just a very meaningful day for me and one of the best Christmases I've had since 2011, so I just wanted to express my joy on that day.

After blogging about the bittersweet taste of 2014, I determined to make 2015 mean something beautiful and powerful. On a sleepless night a few weeks before Christmas, an idea came to me that might just make that happen. I got a vision for a public awareness campaign that marries my love and passion for music with the fight against breast cancer. I'm going to call it Kick Cancer's Ass (sm). I plan to launch a cause and begin promoting it on social media very soon.

It's nothing earth-shatteringly new, but it is a way for me to honor my mother, who is dying of cancer, and the loved ones I've lost to the disease--my maternal grandmother, an aunt and a cousin who was a couple of years my junior and the mother of three children.

I began putting my new focus into practice on Christmas Day helping a homeless woman I met at breakfast and continuing it from that day forward. Again, I'm not drawing attention to my acts of service, but to my new energy and focus. I want to leave a mark on my community, wherever I am, and create a legacy for my daughters to be proud of and footsteps in which, hopefully, they will follow. My girls have ALWAYS been an inspiration to me, never allowing me to pass a homeless person in any of the places we've lived--Tallahassee, Indianapolis and Fort Myers Beach--without giving them something, even the change out of the ashtray in the car.

What do I hope to gain by launching a non-profit? It's not a get-rich scheme or anything like that (some people do get rich running non-profits). I just want to have a purpose greater than myself. I want to devote myself to something that will enrich my life. Yes, I have my daughters and being their Daddy is the most satisfying and life-enriching challenge I've ever faced. It gives me all the meaning I need for my life, but I also want to be about DOING something. I've always known there's more than 8-to-5 punching a timeclock everyday. There has to be! And while I will continue to be gainfully employed somewhere, I will be busy doing good, as well.

So for 2015, I've vowed to be more purposeful, more positive and more proactive. I just came up with that...three P's. That mission will guide my decisions and my actions for the coming years. It sparked with an idea in mid-December, turned into forward motion on Christmas Day and will continue as long as I have breath in my lungs.

Yes, 2014 was a challenge like none other I've faced. I am certain 2015 will bring even more difficult challenges, but my attitude is what will make the biggest difference. I am launching headlong into this year with a positive, self-affirming, more purposeful attitude. Thank you 2014 for reminding me about what's truly important. And HEL-LO 2015! Let's go and do good!

(Editor's note: As I began writing this, a stranger approached me at the McDonald's in Tallahassee where I find myself writing today, and asked me to move my car so she could have someone give her vehicle a jump. I gladly told her I'd help, as I have a long, heavy-duty set of cables in my trunk. I do believe in Karma.)

The bittersweet taste of 2014

As much as the years 2001 and 2004 were all about my girls, so to was the year 2014.

Major decisions were reached with them in mind. Foremost was my decision to move back to Tallahassee, a place I swore I’d never live again. As the old saying goes, “Never say never.” Not only did I move back there, I moved in with my girls. My ex needing to spend nine months in Colorado for work, this became a win-win-win. That’s to say a win for me, for my girls and for Tracy. To say that I cherished that time with them, fulfilling the role of full-time, stay-at-home dad from mid-February through early November, is a huge understatement. I loved it, the highs and the lows. I think the girls did, too. I watched Kenna thrive like she did under my guidance in 2006, when I was home for three months and potty trained her. She didn’t learn any “new tricks,” per se, but her sweet little disposition did just as much for me as it does for her. I managed a major school change for Merikathryn. She seems to be doing well in her new educational environs.

Needless to say, it was a year of transition and change for me. I ended a year-long romance with a woman to whom I was ill-matched. I’ll just say, its one thing to watch someone’s trainwreck life on TV. It’s quite another to live a trainwreck with someone. That’s what I was doing on Fort Myers Beach, so I’m glad I moved on from that situation. That said, I do still miss my beach and great friends there.

I navigated the treacherous waters of unemployment, found a free place to stay and made two trips to Indiana, all with the help of family and friends.

I’m still dealing with the earth-shattering news I received in late May that my mother is dying of cancer.

I’ll let that statement stand alone. It changed a lot of things for me, namely my perspective. There was nothing that was going to keep me from spending a good portion of my summer up there with her and Dad. My girls had gone to Colorado to stay with their mom for six weeks, so I hit the road in June and spent the better part of two months in Noblesville, Indiana. Memories were made with Mom that I will always remember and cherish, like conversations we had in her basement and on her back porch. I also got the chance to make some memories with my siblings, nieces and nephews. A highlight of that trip was visiting Holiday World Theme Park in August before returning home with the girls.

A disturbing vision by my sister, Keely, made me determined to get back up there for Thanksgiving, so the girls and I hit the road for Indiana, together this time. It was a very long drive, harder than most of the dozens of times I’ve driven that route up I-65. We enjoyed four full days in Indiana, capped off by a visit to Princeton with Mom and Dad where I finally got to meet my cousin, Shawn’s, adopted daughter. She’s already 2 years old and quite a beauty. The time I spent on the road was just another opportunity to bond with my own daughters. Again, time cherished and not easily forgotten.

We’re not quite to the end of this monumental year, but looking back I have SO MUCH for which to be thankful. Not the least of which is the time I got with my Mom and with my daughters. I’m still learning to practice gratitude and to radiate positivity. I’ve come quite a long way. Having more time with the girls and them at the center of my life, again, is the best thing that has happened in my life since I adopted both of them in 2001 and 2004.

Yes, 2014, you’ve been quite the banner year. Bittersweet. One that I surely won’t ever forget.

HELP A SON TO SEE HIS DYING MOTHER

As you may already know, my mother is dying of cancer.  By the time it was detected this past May, it was already in three areas of her body and she decided to forego treatment. My sister had a premonition a short time later that Mom would NOT be around for the Christmas holiday. About that same time, my daughter’s told me they really wanted to go to “Grammy’s” for Thanksgiving. I told them that come hell or high water, I’d make that happen for them.

With Thanksgiving now just a week away, my needing time off work to travel, the car needing brakes, an oil change and gas, I’m left to the goodwill of my brothers and sisters to make this trip happen for me and my daughters. Also, the cold weather this week has caused my place of employment to close for two days, cutting my weekly pay in half.

If you can help in any way—monetarily, with a gas card, offering to replace brake pads or provide an oil change—it would be greatly appreciated and we would certainly pay it forward. I can send you a request through PayPal if you will contact me privately--doyle_cm@yahoo.com. Thank you.

All we like sheep

All we like sheep have gone astray...

I've already been seeing ads for "Black Friday" like the ones that promise all the great holiday deals NOW! Nice try, Madison Ave. It's not enough that you have people camping out to get the best "doorbuster deals" of the season. It's also not enough that your Christmas displays go up in August, retail America. No, we need our best Black Friday deals and we need them in like October!!!

I just read an account of a couple of Best Buy patrons in Texas who claimed their spot on the sidewalk LAST WEDNESDAY!!! We're talking November 5th for deals that don't start for at least 21 days! Is anything really worth that sort of a wait? So you're first in line...to spend your hard-earned money on something that will probably be obsolete, or on clearance, by early next year. KUDOS, idiots!!!

The doorbuster deals you get on a flatscreen tv this week will go for that same price every day of the week in about 6-10 months. Mark my words! But you have to have it NOW! Why? Because Madison Avenue and the American consumeristic mindset told you that it is this year's must-have. Stupid sheep!

WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!

There is no reason to camp out for three weeks for ANYTHING! I camped out 10 hours in the cold, once, for Rush concert tickets. I was 15 and the Internet wasn't even someone's fantasy yet. Now, that I have to work hard for every penny I earn and I respect the value of a dollar, I don't HAVE to have anything right now, except a warm meal and a place to sleep. Those are the real must-haves.

All we like sheep...are led around by the nose by Wall Street, telling us we have to have MORE and we have to have it NOW! Buy. Consume. Rinse. Repeat!

It saddens me, really. The fall holidays are supposed to be a time for families, sharing good times, comfort foods and happy memories. How did it ever come to this? People planning their Thanksgiving meals or cutting them short based on the sale ads from places like Wal-Mart and Best Buy. It's a sad statement on American culture.

My fondest childhood memories are of visiting my great-aunt's house in Vincennes or spending Christmases at grandma's house in Princeton. There was no getting up in the wee hours to stand in line in the cold while local news cameras capture our shivering and the cold stare of consumerism in our eyes. There were no news stories on the day after Thanksgiving of people being stabbed or crushed to death at the local department store. I'm not simply pining for the "good old days" I'm just saying look where we've come. It's not a better place...at all.

Can we?

With a sinking approval rating in the low 40's, American political candidates of the Democratic persuasion are asking that the President NOT campaign for them in their local elections. I don't know how unprecedented that is, but I'm sure that in my lifetime there were probably those who also said "Thanks, but no thanks" to support from lame duck presidents, like Jimmy Carter. But I digress.

Conservative hacks are saying that Obama could go down in the annals of U.S. History as possibly the worst president to date. And while I don't know if that is true, his popularity in the waning years of his presidency is wilting. And are we surprised?

I, for one, am not.

Now, before you start labeling me, you must know that I affix no party affiliation to my person. I am an independent thinker. Like many Americans, I am sickened by the greed and corruption of our government. I am distrustful of most politicians. And I agree that change is sorely needed.

That's what Obama promised back in 2008, remember?

But what clout did he really carry to bring about such radical change? How was this one-term Senator from the Midwest going to shake-up the beltway establishment and spark a revolution? I said it all throughout his campaign, though I was mostly talking to the dog and to my girls, "he's got no real political muscle, no clout to get this done."

He ran (and won, I might add) on a bunch of empty promises. So we have a highly disputed national health care. Has it really helped anyone? I'm still uninsured. But again, I digress.

We're still embroiled in the Middle East mess with no real sign of ever getting untangled and bringing our battle-weary troops home.

And now we're faced with a possible worldwide epidemic...a multinational plague called Ebola. And the powers that be in Washington can't put some common-sense travel restrictions in place. How about we ban inbound flights from the affected countries? Not saying, "don't send workers," but how about we quarantine them on a remote island for 20 days until they are deemed "all clear?" Heck, the DC incompetence cannot even protect health workers by disseminating quick and accurate FAQ's...just ask Texas Presbyterian Hospital.

No wonder the president's approval rating is at it's all-time low. He doesn't seem to stand for anything, certainly not the radical change he promised. Heck, he can't even use some common-sense judgment to protect our borders.

I'm glad that he finally burst through the glass ceiling for Black Americans. I am. We have our first black president. It's now in the history books. Let's move on.

Can we return some common sense to DC? Can we maybe get a middle-of-the-road candidate who is neither Democrat or Republican, but has some political clout to push through a common-sense agenda? Is that a pie-in-the-sky dream? Or is this country going to devolve into a second-world nation bent on revolution/civil war. I'm not being melodramatic, either. The two-party system has polarized this country to a degree where degenerates on both sides are hurling vitriolic word bombs at each other and nearly coming to blows. If this keeps up, don't be surprised when State's start succession debates in their legislative chambers. Heck, we have states now, like Florida and California, who want to split apart at the seams.

All I'm asking is that we don't get swept up in some media frenzy next time. Keep your wits about you and don't buy the hype. Elect someone with some real substance; someone who can get something accomplished other than the stalemate we usually get from Capitol Hill. I guess what I'm saying is, "Wake up, America!" and "Let's go!" *rah, rah, sis-boom-bah*

Jameis Lynched in the Media

I thought I was done arguing about the validity of the claims against FSU Quarterback Jameis Winston, but the media has the public worked up into such a frenzy that no amount of “justice” is going to satisfy the lynchmob.

Articles that have run in the New York Times and USA Today, with all of their “investigative integrity” and shameless editorializing, are keeping this story in the national headlines. My own family is now turning against me believing that I’ve been so tainted by my allegiance to Florida State that I can’t see the obvious and egregious nature of Jameis’ crimes.

While the whole world speculates about the FSU cover-up and the media hypocritically blames the University of a greed-fueled sell-out, I decided I’d weigh in and play the “what if” game, too.

WHAT IF…

…the video from Potbelly’s showed a drunken, underage woman leaving their establishment under her own volition and entering a cab with three football players?

…the Chris Casher video, now deleted from his iPhone, in fact, showed a horny college co-ed giving oral pleasure to the college qb of her own freewill?

…a hasty and thorough investigation of this alleged incident brought to light that the victim was indeed not a victim at all, but a regretful, hungover college co-ed who decided to cry “Rape!” after the consensual act?

…that investigation led FSU to forego a Title IX inquiry and also led the State Attorney to the same conclusion as was reached in 2013?

But no one wants to err on the side of a "repeat (repeat, repeat)" offender, right? I mean, after all, he DID steal $34 worth of crab legs!

No one seems to care that while the alleged victim’s name is blotted out of released legal reports and omitted from daily news stories, Mr. Winston’s name is smeared from here to China. No one wants to err on the side of the Heisman-winning, two-sport athlete and student. No one is speculating that he is innocent.

Because this is such a high profile athlete at a premier university, there MUST BE a cover-up.

And EVEN IF there was a botched investigation, that only damns the cops who botched it. Their ineptitude doesn’t immediately spell cover-up, nor does it prove the alleged perp got away with anything. Last I checked, the Law still presumes innocence until proven guilt. But not the Almighty American Media…because if it sells papers and increases readership, then morality and legality be damned!

Yet, those same “moralistic” media outlets would be crying foul from the steps of the U.S. Supreme Court if THEIR rights were infringed in any way. And just how hypocritical do you have to be Gannett News Service, to accuse a government institution of higher learning (i.e. non-profit) that they are blinded by greed, when that’s what fuels your entire, for-profit industry?

Journalistic integrity, as well as objectivity, flew the coop a LONG TIME AGO! Any monkey flipping between CNN and Fox News can see that. The news media now panders to public opinion like Pavlov’s Dog. “Look it’s trending on social media…IT’S DEFINITELY NEWS!!!!”

As I said, my own family, and many in Nole Nation, has been suckered in by all the media hype surrounding this story. No new facts have emerged, but Winston is guilty as EVER and the university obviously put football revenue above student safety and its own integrity. Why? Because the New York Times and USA Today say so!

My sister alluded to her daughter who is now in college and asked how I would feel if one of my daughters was in this situation. Let me just say, as a dad and an uncle, I’d be ready to do physical harm to ANY guy that laid a hand on ANY of my girls—daughters or nieces! I’d want to thrash them into an unrecognizable form, no doubt. But I asked her, in response, what if it was her son and she were 200% sure of his innocence?

Jameis Winston has a family back in Alabama who I’m sure cringe every time they turn on ESPN or go online. And like his family back home, his Tallahassee family is just as sure of his innocence. Why? Because we see him interact with fans and the public all the time. We see him on the baseball diamond ham it up behind unwitting reporters. We see him on the sidelines of Doak Campbell playing cheerleader to his backup who started during Winston’s suspension. He was suspended from the baseball team for the crab leg incident, by the way. We also see him stop for photos with young kids, go to class and practice every day undaunted by the media firestorm around him.

All the rest of the world sees is the strawman strung up in the public square by an overzealous media. The South is no stranger to public lynchings, I might add.

Which brings me to the race issue that no one is talking about…how many black men in the South get away with raping white college coeds? I would argue that there are a lot more prison cells inhabited by wrongly accused African-Americans than there are white men. Back in the not-so-distant past, this would have been grounds for a real-life lynching in Tallahassee.

But the media would have us all believe that the white establishment is rising to defend a black student accused of raping a white girl in a town with deeply Southern roots. The number of black men who have hung from the moss-draped trees in the rolling hills of North Florida is too nauseating to count. And don’t believe that the good-ol-boy system of justice doesn’t still prevail down here. It does. It permeates every level of the justice system, from college police departments to State Attorneys offices. So to report that this kid was shown favoritism in a small Southern town just because he plays football is beyond ludicrous. But what would a white reporter from a New York paper know about that?

Furthermore, there is the issue of character, to which my brother-in-law alluded earlier today. Why on Earth would FSU Coach Jimbo Fisher put his neck out there, placing his own multi-million dollar job on the line? Because he’s convinced that the kid is innocent. He knows more of the facts probably than most of us do. There’s no skeletons in Fishers closet, either. He’s as clean as they come. And he knows his kids. To accuse him of being part of this city-wide conspiracy is to call his character into question, as a coach, a man and a father. I happen to believe he knows more about this kid than I do. I also happen to respect him, so I’m gonna err on the side of the facts that I see before me. I'm not blinded by allegiance to my alma mater, I just believe in due process and vetting all the facts.

The media lynchmob will be onto another subject once a real crime is committed and covered up, but there’s no smoking gun in Tallahassee. It’s simply a case of he said-she said and we should leave it in the hands of the courts before we go stringing anyone up or ruining their future. Since when do we get to lynch a person based on popular opinion and media bias? All those high-horse media hacks, including ESPN’s Finebaum, need to get over themselves and quit their ridiculous hypocrisy. This has gotten SO OLD!

Finding the REAL Jesus

It seems to me that Christianity has been molding it's God, and likewise Savior, into a mere reflection of human beings for centuries. The more we can give Him human foibles and mortal characteristics, the easier it is for us to relate, to even visualize the Divine as something more casual, tangible and familiar. We've all but removed any of the mystery surrounding the Supreme Being.

That's why I was so particularly intrigued by the article "What Did Jesus Do?" published in the May 2010 edition of The New Yorker (and recently shared by a friend on Facebook). It focuses a lot on Mark's gospel, long held the oldest original source material for the New Testament. In Mark's narrative, whoever the author, a very human Jesus emerges. But his story, told in retrospect some 30-odd years after Jesus' death, was told in light of the Pauline teachings that had spread throughout the Greco-Roman world. And let's not forget that the canon itself wasn't formalized until sometime in the fourth century. That is, there was no Bible being shared or read amongst the earliest Christ followers. It is also imperative to remember the times in which those earliest Christians were living. Their world had just fallen apart. The Roman war had decimated the Jewish Temple, causing the first great diaspora. Jesus warnings about the end being near and the Temple being destroyed were fully realized for them.

Adam Gopnik, who penned The New Yorker article, reminds us:

So the long history of the early Church councils that tried to make the tales into a theology is, in a way, a history of coming out of the movie confused, and turning to someone else to ask what just happened. This is the subject of Philip Jenkins’s “Jesus Wars: How Four Patriarchs, Three Queens, and Two Emperors Decided What Christians Would Believe for the Next 1,500 Years” (HarperOne; $26.99). Jenkins explains what was at stake in the seemingly wacky wars over the Arian heresy—the question of whether Jesus the Son shared an essence with God the Father or merely a substance—which consumed the Western world through the second and third centuries...People argued that way because they were part of social institutions—cities, schools, clans, networks—in which words are banners and pennants: who pledged to whom was inseparable from who said what in what words.

He argues that it was more about who would run the Church than it was about setting the historical record straight. Gopnik goes on to remind us further:

If one thing seems clear from all the scholarship, though, it’s that Paul’s divine Christ came first, and Jesus the wise rabbi came later. 

That's a point that seems to be lost on many literalist Christians who take every word of the Bible as, well, gospel. Even the early church's understanding of what Mark wrote about Jesus was colored by the radical teachings of Paul already becoming well-known in the Greco-Roman world. And it was the Roman Empire that eventually codified Christian theology and spread it across the known world.

The point is, what do we really know about Jesus, the actual first century mystic who lived like a homeless person amongst his small band of followers? Funny to me the backlash over a movie producer who wants to portray a very Middle Eastern-looking Jesus in an upcoming film. Why? Because we want a very Anglo Jesus, even a laid back, surfer looking dude like my mom had proudly displayed on our living room wall. Because that's easier for us to digest. Easier to relate to as mere mortals. Let's paint this Messiah in OUR image, so we can take ownership of Him.

I believe that's what the earliest Christians did. I believe that's what the Roman Church did. And we still do it today. Call it human nature, I guess. But the REAL Jesus is somewhere in between the pages of the Gospels. He's hidden in the mystery that is God, behind a shroud of darkness that cannot be unveiled by mere scholarship, intuition or finite understanding. Why can't we just embrace the mystery of his being and choose to all get along? If we cling to His reported message, "Love others as yourself," we can't go wrong.

I encourage you to read the entire article (here) with an open mind.

Radio is a JOKE!

Radio stations in the U.S. are a joke! Following the stale formulas of the 1950's, radio is holding on by a thread in this country. They are competing with iPods, internet radio and a whole host of other means by which fans enjoy their favorite music artists. Radio conglomerates don't seem to care. You'll have to pry those daypart clocks, rotation formulas and also-ran morning shows from their cold, dead fingers!!

I had the radio on in the car this morning for a full TWO minutes before I turned it off in disgust.

The most disturbing part is the clock that they all adhere to, going to a 5-minute commercial break (or longer) at the same exact time, every hour...ALL of them! It's worse than watching late night cable tv, what with their formulaic infomercials playing every 12 minutes at the same time on nearly every station. This morning, I happened to tune in just as they were all going to commercial break. You know, because the radio gods in the 1950's decided that listeners would remain tuned in if you took commercial breaks at A, B, C and D every hour like clockwork. We are all trained monkeys, aren't we? So, I turned from one preset station to the next only to be yelled at by an obnoxious local car dealer, promo'd out the wazoo and generally over-saturated with over-hyped pitchmen on every stop along the dial. Would it kill them to maybe stagger their commercial breaks? Especially when one conglomerate owns 80% of the local market share?!

The second most disturbing part about American radio--and this goes back to the trained monkeys that they believe us all to be--is the "play it over-and-over-and-over" mentality of the 15 program directors that run 100% of stations in this country (and 15 may be an inflated number, but I'm just guessing...there may be as few as 4). The rotation formula has irritated me since I was a kid and my sister's couldn't get enough Madonna or Whitney or Michael, so the stations decided to play the same 5 songs every 20 minutes. It's maddening. And that formula, which has been around since before the Beatles or Rolling Stones, is still being employed today! I cannot tell you how sick I got of hearing Pharell's "Happy" earlier this year, as the teeny-bopper stations played it in heavy rotation. And just like the yelling car salesman, I'd hear his voice on 2 or 3 stations at a time if I scanned my radio dial. If kids want to hear Pharell 15 times in an hour, let them put on some headphones and cue up their iPod or Pandora!!!

And in the morning time, when I'm on my first cup of coffee, fighting traffic to get my kids to school, and totally irritated with idiot drivers, the last thing I want to hear is incessant chatter. How about some damn music? I mean, this whole medium came about to keep folks entertained. It morphed into a 24-hour juke box, but now it's just a joke. Morning shows are the worst!!! Even the guys I grew up on, Bob & Tom out of Indianapolis, are still on the morning radio dial all over the country. And their show has devolved into them laughing at their own stupid jokes, talking over each other and basically following the same rough outline they started with in the early 80's! I don't want to hear old guys snorting, laughing and trying to out-gag each other. I just wanna hear music...and not the same 5 songs every 20 minutes, interrupted only by yelling car salesmen and endless promos. Is that too much to ask?

No wonder people are tuning out in droves. My only option is the CD player in my car so I've reverted to burning CDs from my MP3 archives on my computer. I keep a stash of the homemade compilations (like my old mix-tapes) in the car at ALL times! I hate what radio is today and how little it has changed in my lifetime. I'm shocked that advertisers still throw money at this dying medium. People have tuned out. And even when they are listening, trained monkeys that they are, it has become the background music to their lives. They aren't really paying attention anymore. It's like Muzak on the elevator to them. So do advertisers really think they are getting any bang for their buck? I don't think so. But radio seems to never want to change. They don't want to really compete in the changing landscape of electronic entertainment. Radio in this country is a joke.

The Beatles, the Summer of Love and Me

I was conceived sometime near the end of 1967 after the infamous "summer of love" and the release of two preeminent Beatles albums.

Two of their best albums, musically and artistically, in my humble opinion.

The release of Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, arguably one of the bands brightest and most creative LP's, kicked off the summer of love on June 1, 1967, followed by the worldwide, satellite premier of "All You Need Is Love." That song became my sister's favorite Beatles song while we lived on Race Street in Princeton, Indiana. In fact, some of my earliest memories from that house so long ago are of sitting in the front living room near the stereo, listening to Dad's copy of Magical Mystery Tour, my favorite Beatles album of all-time, and the Sesame Street collection on 45. The former was released as a double-EP soundtrack in London to accompany the Beatles movie of the same title at the end of '67. I was yet a zygote in my mother's belly.

My father was completing his first semester at Indiana State University in Terre Haute. Mom was in beauty school, preparing to embark on a short-lived career as a hairdresser. My arrival in 1968, brought their aspirations and whatever career goals they had in mind to an abrupt halt. They married in March of that year and embarked on family life, Dad joining the National Guard on the very day his draft number was called. Bullet dodged.

Was I a lingering effect of the summer of love? I don't know, but that hippie subculture was certainly prevalent in the era to which I was born. And the Beatles were the official soundtrack to that era, my Dad owning several of their Capital releases on vinyl, including Meet the Beatles, Rubber Soul and Magical Mystery Tour. Needless to say, my sister and I about wore out the grooves on those old LP's, which were lost somewhere between Tallahassee and Indianapolis in the late 1980's. Sadly.

Ironically enough, the Beatles graced the cover
of LIFE Magazine the day after I was born.

My favorite of those, opened with the anthemic title track, "ROOLLLL UUUPP!" and I was hooked. I loved the psychedelic flavor to tracks like "Strawberry Fields" and "I Am the Walrus." The haunting organ-bathed tune by Harrison, titled "Blue Jay Way" was one of my favorites. Throughout, I loved their use of orchestration, of horns and cellos especially. The album, as well as the movie booklet that accompanied it, had a dreamy feel to it and I was always intrigued to see the actual film (Note: I just watched it this month for the first time). I can sing along with every tune. "Your Mother Should Know" sort of harkens back to the big band tunes of Benny Goodman, leading his orchestra on clarinet (and is similar to McCartney's "When I'm 64"). I really liked that one and "Baby You're a Rich Man" because they were so different from the tunes on earlier Beatles albums. I should also note my Dad's 8-track copy of the Beatles early years, which we wore out in the old family truckster, so I was familiar with most of their early hits. Their 1967 albums were a serious departure from the bubble-gum pop/rock of the early 60's and I quite enjoyed it.

I've been on this Beatles kick, focusing a lot on George Harrison, my new favorite Beatle, for a couple of weeks now. Not exactly sure what prompted it, maybe just a sense of nostalgia and wanting to revel in some of my earliest childhood memories. We have some old home movies shot at that house on Race Street when I was 4 or 5. They are much of the reason I still remember so much about that old house, but music, almost as much as smell, triggers my memory bank, and the Beatles certainly take me back to a happy, simpler, more innocent period of my life.

To whatever degree I owe a debt of gratitude to the "summer of love," I am thankful for the music it spawned (or vice-versa) and for my existence in the world. I think George would be proud of me for my self-awareness and gratitude. :)

Catholic Guilt

My youngest siblings didn't grow up in the same way that I did. They didn't experience, or at least they don't remember, Mass, Holy Communion, Confession, Priests, Incense...well, you get the picture. My parents were pretty well done with the Catholic Church by the time my brother and sister came along in '78 and '79. So they didn't grow up with the idea of "original sin" being burnt into their subconscious by habit-wearing, prune-faced old ladies and men adorned in meekly-ornamented vestments.

I was thinking about this the other morning while listening to a classical music station on the radio. No need to delve into how my crazy mind works, but suffice to say my thoughts drifted to the Dark Ages and the control the Catholic Church held over the Western World.

At any rate, I was remembering how Catholic guilt was placed upon me at an early age. I didn't have a grasp of the Scriptures, I only knew the basic tenets of the Christian faith, as expressed to me in Sunday School and at Mass. I knew that because of my inherent badness, thanks to Adam and "original sin," I deserved to be punished. But my mere punishment wouldn't appease God at all. No, he had to send his Son to die. So, in effect, I KILLED GOD!

I was reminded of this constantly, through lectures, sermons, Scripture readings and icons. The constant icon in every Catholic Church I'd ever been in was the crucifix. In fact, every Catholic home in which I ate, played or visited had a crucifix proudly displayed somewhere. You couldn't get away from the constant reminder that YOU...YOU KILLED CHRIST!!!

Now, some believe that all Catholics are anti-Semites who firmly hold to the notion that Jews killed Jesus. This is not true. I, for one, knew that I ALONE was the reason for his death. I had the blood of the Savior on my hands.

Talk about guilt.

No wonder I had such a struggle with my conscience on a daily basis. That notion about Catholic guilt is more than just a nun's tale. It's real. I carried the haunting vision of that near naked man, cast in bronze, impaled on a wooden cross always. I couldn't escape it. Whether I was in the classroom at Immaculate Heart of Mary, in my friend's living room or at a Doyle family dinner, I was always sitting in view of the hallowed eyes cast down under the shadow of a thorny crown. And it was ALL MY FAULT!

I'm convinced nowadays that the church has effectively used that ploy to keep the masses under control for ages. It certainly worked on an adolescent boy in Indiana. And history has shown that it worked in the Dark Ages and still today. How many youth around the world carry that same albatross around their neck in the form of a rosary? How many of them walk under the shroud of Catholic guilt everyday, knowing that they aren't good enough, worthy enough or saintly enough?

And is that a good thing?

You be the judge.

Jameis Winston Fallout

I wrote yesterday on my Colts-Noles blog re: the Jameis Winston controversy. My seemingly unpopular opinion--if you look at ESPN.com and a few Nole-related FB pages--has only intensified since last night's knuckleheaded decision by the FSU Administration to extend Jameis' punishment.

In case you weren't watching or listening this week, Jameis' antics in the FSU Oglesby Student Union on Tuesday were tweeted about by fellow students. The next morning, the Heisman quarterback was making national headlines for repeating a vulgar phrase from a viral Internet video. It was a laughable "offense" that got many folks up in arms. It was college high jinks, captured on social media. There was no crime to be punished. There were no cries from students to have him removed from campus, the team OR the game, and yet, in recent NFL fashion, the powers that be decided his suspension from the Clemson game should be complete, reversing course on their earlier decision to only hold him out of the first two quarters.

Let me reiterate that THERE WAS NO CRIME committed. No one was hurt. The students who tweeted the incident were probably laughing at him. No authorities were involved--not the FSU Police Department, not the Tallahassee Police, not FDLE, not even a local crossing guard! So where is the punishment coming from? Perceptions? Do-gooders who have nothing better to complain about? An FSU Admin desperate to make themselves relevant?

So many have chimed in about Jameis Winston's character, his immaturity, his poor judgment and his lack of humility and sense. But let's really look at Jameis' decision-making. First, he CHOSE to come here. He put in brutal two-a-days, grueling workouts for TWO SPORTS (not just football) and has excelled at BOTH! He's brought plenty of attention, good and bad, to the University. The good has come with plenty of purse strings attached. Has the bad caused irreparable damage? Have we lost trophies, sponsorships or dollars from his actions? No. And I'm not saying it's all about those things, but to the Administration, those things should weigh pretty heavy. So in their rush to judgment, rush to appeal to the masses, to the media, to social pressure, did they even consider the fallout of a loss tonight? A loss of a potential championship game? The loss of a portion of their fanbase?

For this tried-and-true Nole, the REAL embarrassment is in A) how this whole situation was handled by the University; and B) in their reversing course like we've seen for two weeks in the NFL. Let's face it, they caved to outside pressures instead of handling this in-house with some tact and grace.

That was my problem from the beginning of this whole mess on Tuesday. Call Jameis in, handle the situation privately, in-house, and get in front of the media circus with a concise, consistent message. Don't let it spin out of control. (Sorry, I worked in PR for a number of years).

Because this stupid incident is in NO WAY RELATED to alleged sexual abuse, shoplifting or BB gun shooting, and yet they've let the media dredge all of that up, tie it in a bundle and submit it as Jameis' resume. Forget the fact that he's been a stellar student in the classroom, a crazy highlight reel phenom on the baseball and football fields and a funny, charismatic, engaging leader on campus. He's not some thug with a long rap sheet, as ESPN has been touting all week. He did his community service "time" for the crab leg theft. No other charges were ever brought against him. So how does cursing on a college campus rise to this level of ridiculous backlash?

The kid has made some poor choices, no doubt. What kid hasn't? And has social media REALLY raised the bar THAT high? That you have to maintain a level of sainthood in college to appease the rich, white establishment? I say let Jameis be Jameis, and allow this whole situation to fade into obscurity. But IF we lose to Clemson? Guess what, FSU leadership? This discussion is NOT going away and the end result will NOT be good for you...for us, as Nole Nation.

My frustration has now risen to the level of disgust. Interim President Stokes has lost my trust and respect. And for the team's sake, I hope she's ready to suit up...because we need her as 3rd string QB!

the REAL ALS Challenge

Now that ice buckets are turning over in dwindling numbers, the real challenge is for the ALS Foundation to prove that this financial windfall will amount to more than just a drop in the bucket. It is their chance to prove to the world that they can leverage this cash to make a real difference in the lives of those suffering with the debilitating disease once known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease. They have seen donations go up several hundred percent this year. Will they prove that they are worth their weight in gold, or cold, hard cash, in this case?

I used to work for a non-profit and I know how wasteful they can be. It doesn’t take long before expensive trade shows, fundraising galas, overhead and administrative costs eat a big chunk of the annual budget. Before you know it, there is very little to show for all the fundraising efforts.

If ALS Foundation is smart, they’ll be strategic and fiscally responsible to ensure that all the money raised through the once-in-a-lifetime, grassroots marketing campaign makes the biggest impact. And equally as important, they’ll tell their success story in such a compelling way as to generate an even bigger buzz over what was accomplished thanks to all the ice buckets being drained.

Otherwise, this will go down just as cynics and skeptics predict, as just another cute publicity stunt with no real or sustainable value. Once all the viral video stunts fade into obscurity, who will remember the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge or the millions of dollars it raised?

On a counterpoint, I wonder why Climb For Water, Clean WaterAction and other similar charities haven’t jumped on the anti-ice bucket bandwagon to raise awareness of their fight for sustainable water systems in underprivileged parts of the world. That seemed like a no-brainer, but the opportunity is passing them by quickly.

Time will tell. Count me among the skeptics.

Human being, first and foremost

Andrew W.K. writes an advice column, akin to Dear Abby, that runs regularly in the New York Village Voice. See his latest column here about love and humanity trumping stereotypes and opinions. In speaking about politics and labels, Andrew W.K. says, "Anything as infinitely complex as life, reality, and the human experience can never be summed up or organized in a definitive system, especially one based on "left or right," "A or B," "us or them." He also asserts, "The world officially ends when we let our beliefs conquer love," and then concludes, "if you do pick a side, pick the side of love." In his opinion column, I heard him speak about how humanity often gets lost in the fray of arguments over things like political ideologies. This sparked a flame in me because of the Netflix original series, "House of Cards," I have been watching. It features award-winning actors Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright (who has been a favorite of mine since portraying Princess Buttercup as a teen actress in "The Princess Bride"). But the husband and wife tandem--The Honorable and Mrs. Underwood--are anything but honorable in that show. In fact, they are downright deplorable.

I am 11 episodes into Season 1 and I just lamented to the friend that highly recommended the show, a former DC insider, that I cannot stomach another episode of the nausea-inducing, faux political drama. **SPOILER ALERT** In Episode 10, Congressman Underwood, kills off one of the other lead characters, a fellow politician from his own party, and makes it look like an alcohol and drug-induced suicide. Part of his devious plot to undercut his patsy, Congressman Russo, was to tempt him to fall off the wagon, which he did by hiring a former prostitute, now temptress in a slinky black dress. Once the temptress gets him drunk and high, the senior Congressman offers to drive a near comatose Russo home, where he does the dastardly deed. I was shocked, but not taken totally by surprise. After all, Spacey's character, a minority Whip in the U.S. Senate, is inhuman...a political robot...a Dark Sith, if you will, perched upon Capitol Hill.

In that same episode, his wife who has grown tired of being his pawn, his ally, and mutual admirer, comes back to him from her true love...as if pledging her support for his ruthless political ambitions, regardless of his means of getting there. Robin Wright plays the heartless and death-grip cold Congressman's wife with skill and credibility. It's a far cry from her role as the beautiful, idealistic princess. She's still outwardly beautiful, there's no doubt, but her insides are dark and hollow like a vacuous, bat-filled cavern.

I was no longer amused by the DC couple's sadistic and narcissistic games. In the show I watched last night, they crossed the line. Their characters became sub-human. Non-human, in fact. The writers, who had gone to great lengths to create depth in these two characters, ruined it all in one fell swoop! They made them paper cut-out caricatures reminiscent of old comic book villains, no longer real and tangible. Likewise, the show has now become for me indigestible. I'm choosing to skip the rest of the episodes and find something more real to watch. Big Cat Diaries comes to mind. Hell, Bar Rescue would even be better entertainment.

My point being, and I hope those characters are just evil caricatures of the real vultures on Capitol Hill, is that I'm already turned off enough by politics and politicians. I don't need to be reminded how heartless and ruthless the people in that line of work can be. I'd like to still hold out hope that those running our precious country are not evil-bots, but real human beings with beating hearts. The now dead character, Congressman Russo, was just that. And for that reason, the show's producers and writers had to off him. He was too human, too real, apparently, for their tastes. They should have been DC Comics writers, not writers of a real-life DC-based television series. Sorry Netflix, this one was a bomb. Nice try, though. It started out well enough, like a darker, edgier version of "The West Wing," an old NBC political drama.

When we lose our sense of humanity, especially our sense of our adversaries' humanity, in the name of "being right," whether that belief is based on religion, upbringing, politics or whatever, then we have lost a piece of our own being human. That became more apparent than ever upon my visit with family in Indiana over the summer. My mom, who is cancer-ridden and preparing for the end of her life, had some very deep and impact-full conversations with me. In the end, we decided to put aside our differences, focusing instead on our love for each other. Our human connection and our family connection comes first no matter what differences in belief come between us at times. We can always agree to disagree and then focus on the positive. Just like the advice columnist pointed out to the guy who had written in, "Love your dad because he's your father, because he made you, because he thinks for himself, and most of all because he is a person."

Those conversations with mom are what will carry me through the difficulty of losing her one day. I know mom's heart and she's heard mine for the first time in years. We are at peace and that is a great feeling. She'll always be mom and I'll always be her firstborn.

Don't let someone else's opinion overshadow the bigger picture. They share a place in humanity alongside you, family or foe. You may not like them. You may even despise their position on things. As a human being, you should appreciate that they have every right to their opinion. Unless their actions prove otherwise, they are deserving of honor and respect. Just keep that in mind the next time you get into a heated discussion with your brother or sister. That is all. Thanks for listening. Please comment if this meant something to you.