denniscoleman.net

Following hurricane Katrina, I wrote a newspaper piece that was rejected by my editor as being “too edgy.” When I pressed her for a further explanation, she said that she did not want to publish something that appeared to be “insensitive to the flood victims.” I guess I didn’t make my point too well.

My basic point was this. It is not the responsible of government to solve the problems of individuals. I still think that I’m right about this, and as a proof source, go read the Constitution. If you can find it in there, let me know.

The greater point that I was trying to make is this. We have a responsibility as people to help each other in a time of great need. My proof source on this was my mother, and the Bible.

I disagreed with the people that felt it was not their responsibility to help, saying, “after all, I pay taxes.”

And I still feel that way.

I cannot bring forward in mind the ability to truly comprehend what it is like to have everything shattered in a moment. It’s not just their homes that collapsed, it was entire cities collapsing on their homes, and on them, and on everyone around them. I cannot begin to imagine the struggle that survivors must have to try to reconcile themselves to the fact that this has happened to them through absolutely no fault of their own.

Generally in life when the Shiite pours down upon your hat, you can find a way to blame either yourself, or better yet, somebody else.

What is it like, I wonder, to worry if God, or nature, or the forces of evil are out to get you.

What is it like to be suddenly orphaned, or suddenly a widow, and suddenly alone in the middle of a rubble pile.

I know that lots of people are doing their best to help in some small way. I do not want to minimize that for a moment. I have been looking for my own way to do a little something, and I was pleased when an opportunity came my way.

A friend recently began organizing a group of musicians to perform as a way to raise money. Her efforts to put on a night of music, where the proceeds for a $15 ticket would go to help the Haitian’s in need, seems like a great idea. I am delighted to make my teeny, tiny contribution, and hoped that others would immediately climb onto ticket sales so that they could help out also.

The initial interest and support has been a bit less than I had hoped for.

So, I begin to rationalize it by saying to myself that times are tough, and everyone is watching their wallet. Of course, having trouble making the cable bill is not to be compared to the struggles in Haiti.

Maybe, I wonder, they don’t think the music will be worth the $15. That is hardly the point. The idea is to give away the 15 frickin’ dollars, and the musicians give away their music.

I was wondering what more I can do to make this event successful, when I heard something disturbing on the radio this morning.

Apparently, people have been lining up all night for a chance to get a copy of Ozzy Osbourne’s new “book,” and to meet the “author.” All this for a mere $50.

Is it just me?

Okay, I get it, and here is my pledge. If we can sell just 100 tickets to our little effort, I’ll bite the head off of anything you want me to. I’ll take enough drugs to become absolutely unintelligible.

But you have to provide them, I’m out of the loop on narcotics and live meat.

http://www.chaplinsthemusiccafe.com/worldhelpforhaitiorg-concert/1002032.html

1. I want a 7:00 movie to start at 7:00. I don’t need any more Coca-Cola commercials. I know what Coke is by now, and I know that it should not cost 4 dollars. Also, previews for movies that are coming out in 8 months doesn’t help me. Do you really think I take notes or something?

2. I want all of these radio talk show types to give us a break. It’s just too hateful to listen to, and by the way, we think you’re stupid if you expect us to believe that one party is always right, and the other one is always wrong.

3. You know those lines at the supermarket that are for self check out? If you don’t know how they work… stay out of them. If you don’t know what PLU means, get out. It’s irritating when you ask for help with every item. Go back to the remedial lane where you can bitch about the way they put the Comet cleanser in the same bag as the hot dogs all that you want to.

4. I want a special driving lane that is marked “Asians Only“. Lets give them a place to drive at 17 miles per hour, with their nose pressed up against the windshield to their hearts delight.

5. I am calling for an international ban on both rap music, and white people that try to dress like black people. You’re not fooling anybody, we still know that you’re white. P.S. You sound absurd when you try to talk like you’re black.

6. I want I.Q. tests taken at the bar. Everyone loses 30 points when they drink, and that’s O.K. But when you start with an I.Q. of 80, you are three drinks away from pissing off everybody. This particularly applies to young males that believe that drinking Jaegermeister and Dr. Pepper makes them cool.

7. Stop showing me pictures of your dog. I have no idea how to react to this. What is wrong with you people?

8. Facebook has become a very cool place to connect, and to find old friends. I really don’t think it’s that interesting to write stuff like “Having Meat Loaf tonight,” followed by “Meat loaf was really good,” and then, “Going to bed after I fix a meat loaf sandwich for lunch tomorrow.” Nobody gives a crap.

9. I want a Wawa inside of every Wal-Mart. There is almost nothing that I need outside of those two places. In the future, I will lobby to have a bar inside of the Wawa.

10. I want to get rid of the House of Representatives, since I don’t what they do, and apparently, neither do they. While we’re at it, lets change the way that we pick candidates to run for President. The last 10 years seems to suggest that we can do better.

11. You can take down the No Smoking signs. Everybody knows.

With all of the mixed and confusing messages that we send out about Christmas, this is what I fear we have taught our children.

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of ipods and Playstations danced in their heads.

And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

(This was in separate room’s however, due to all of the recent fighting about money).

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

It was just the neighbor, who came home screaming about the mall traffic.

Anyway, in those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.

Not everybody liked that idea, so they

tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow

Gave the luster of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But Joseph, who went up from Nazareth, to Bethlehem. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child.

I guess they “had” to get married.

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Kwanza and Vixen!

On, Three Wise Men! On, Cupid! On Oprah and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

There were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night.

I guess they had to stay there because sheep don’t fly as well as reindeer.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof

The prancing and pawing of baby Jesus, because while they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

So, down the chimney, baby Jesus came with a bound.

The weight of the world he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

Then, an angel of the Lord appeared to them.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! He was chubby and plump, a right jolly little elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!

The glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

So, the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,

And his clothes all tarnished with ashes and soot.

That’s probably why they had to get those swaddling clothes.

He spoke no more words, but went straight to his work,

And filled all the stockings, but then the shepherds came, so he ate the cookies and up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like a clown with a whistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,

" Glory to God in the highest,

and on earth peace and good will to all of the people like us! And Happy New Year"

And remember the true secret of Christmas is this:

No returns without a receipt., you could shoot your eye out.

Amen.

Annual Christmas Letter

Well, it’s Christmas time. Like a lot of families, I try to send out the once-a-year update to let everyone know how it’s going in the family.

Once again, we got the shaft.

It seems that corporate America as well as the justice system is conspiring to keep us down.

First, my law suit was called “ridiculous,” or some fancy legal term like that. I had the idea a long time ago to give out gifts of blankets with holes worn in them, I just never thought of a jazzy name like “Snuggy”. I even had pictures of my wife sleeping one off in a blanket with holes in it. The judge got all hung up on “evidence,” and “proof,” and something about “patents” and he even pointed and laughed at me when I came into court wearing a “Holy Blanket.” (That was the name when I invented it.) To make things worse, they smelled alcohol on some of us, and found flasks on a few others, and so it was back to the pokey for most of the family. One good thing though, they put out a nice Thanksgiving spread, over at County.

We had to take the bus home when they finally turned us loose, as Pennsylvania now seems to require a car inspection every year. How was I to know? That 1981 Chevy van was inspected when I bought it.

My son in the military was doing good, but now he is back to buck private. He says he never got no pamphlet explaining the finer points of “don’t ask, just take,” or something like that. 7 years down the drain for him.

On top of that, they are still fighting my disability check over the Carpet Tunnel thing, so my wife had to take a third job. It sure can wear a man out scouring them want ads all day, but she’s a good girl and you know me, I help out wherever I can.

We was all set to have a vacation, and a really nice one this year, but I had invested the whole $150 vacation fund in a new computer game idea I had where you try to guess people’s Social Security Numbers. Them government boys tried to say that was wrong, but they never said that when I was the “Guess Your Weight,” guy at the carnival.

That Obama guy don’t seem to be changing nothing worthwhile, which makes me mad. I would voted for him if I knew where they done that.

I hope that by next years letter that I will be able to say, "Hey, did you see our picture on the People of Wal-Mart website."

Of course, it ain’t all bad. Two of the girls are expecting, and thank God it ain’t with the same guys as last year, as they were what are called “hit and run,” types. Bless them girls though for being so generous, like their mother.

It will probably pretty be stark under the tree this year, if you catch my meaning, and so I am making sure to get this letter out early enough so that anybody that wants to help out has time. I even set up a PayPal just for the occasion. My wife says that’s begging, but I reminded her that people have it in their heart to help others at Christmas, and so why shouldn’t we got our own fair share, especially after Obama never got us on any bailout list.

I should have gone into banking, but it’s probably too late for that.

My one boy almost got a deer this year, but he got all nervous and blasted away at his kneecap. Unless we get some luck along the roadside, we won’t be having our Christmas venison.

I guess that’s it for this year and like I always say “Cheer up, things could be worse.” I always chuckle when the wife chimes in with “I don’t see how.”

So, I better sign off. Some guy just came out of the bathroom here at Starbucks and is claiming that this is his computer. I thought it worked like over at the liberry. They should put up a sign or something.

Merry Christmas.

10. If your kids are mooching dinner off you again this year, make them rake leaves. Every once in a while, holler out the window that when you were a kid there were no fancy tools, like rakes.

9. Do not shave. After all, it’s a Holiday.

8. Holler into the kitchen a few times, saying, “Keep the racket down in there, I can’t hear the football game.”

7. Watch “Christmas Vacation.” Imitate Eddie for the rest of the day.

6. Rig the Pollyanna so that everyone gets you.

5. If the little kids insist on watching the parade, tell them that parades are stupid, and that Santa isn’t real.

4. Nap on the couch. Snore violently.

3. If you find yourself feeling gassy, let fly and blame the dog. After all, it’s a holiday.

2. Start telling everyone in the family that Christmas will be a little “thin” this year, unless your lawsuit settles.

1. At some point during the day, it is imperative that you loosen your pants, and scratch your belly as way of showing pleasure for the meal. Daughters love this.

When it became time to go to my high school graduation, I didn?t bother.

While my classmates were donning caps and gowns and doing whatever else it is that you do at graduations, I was in Boston, playing music.

I like music, you see?but I hated high school. I hated it so much that two teachers had to carry me to get my senior picture taken, and I refused to take part in anything that I felt that I could avoid. I hated being locked up in that place.

Or did I?

A few days ago, I went to my 40th high school reunion. It was something that I looked forward to as a chance to see some old friends, some of which I hadn?t seen in 15 years; some I hadn?t seen in 40.

Many of the classmates that I still see regularly didn?t bother to go. I can?t say why.

What is it about high school that on one hand, I truly despised, and on the other, I remember with great fondness? Why would I be so eager to re-live an experience that I abhorred?

Maybe it?s the chance to see some of the people that I have known since first grade. Those people know you the best, and are the most dear to you.

Maybe it is the chance to reconnect, or the chance to make a new connection with someone you knew a little bit, a very long time ago.

One thing I know is this. I didn?t ?fit? in high school. I wasn?t academically inspired, except on the rare occasions in English class when the topic was literature. So, I messed around, laughed, and did my best to under-achieve. And I endured the constant reminder that I wasn?t working up to my potential.

Or maybe I was. At that time, I had the potential to create mischief, and play music with my friends, which I did achieve, quite nicely.

Nevertheless, the question remains. Why was I so eager to reconnect with people that seemed, at best, to be fellow inmates of the asylum?

I see it pretty clearly now. I wonder if others see it the same way. Is it the same for me as it was for the cheerleaders, and the jocks, and the shop kids, and the pretty girls, the cool guys, and the smart kids, and the goofs like me?

The way I see it, it?s rather related to what some African cultures refer to as Ubuntu. We are, because of where our parents chose to raise us, a community. Within that community, we have connection and responsibility to each other. And it is a closed community. No one else gets to join?it is ours and ours alone. The history between us gets longer, and perhaps a bit more faded, but it is our history. So, when I look at Jacqui and Joyce, I see them as they are today, and as they were when we were 6 years old. That was more than 50 years ago. I see others as 12, 14, or 16?and I see them today. And it is an undeniable fact that we know each other, and share a connection that no one else has. Moreover, I can?t get kicked out of this group. I am a lifetime member whether anyone likes it or not. As we all are.

So, I went to my high school reunion, and reconnected with the members of my community, and I had a blast. There are some that I hope to reconnect with more closely, and perhaps they do too.

Now that I know why I went, and why I had so much fun, I feel sorry for those who didn?t, or couldn?t, make the trip. It is truly a loss for them, and a loss for all of the rest of us.

After all, we belong together.

Maybe I learned something from high school after all.

When it became time to go to my high school graduation, I didn't bother.

While my classmates were donning caps and gowns and doing whatever else it is that you do at graduations, I was in Boston, playing music.

I like music, you see, but I hated high school. I hated it so much that two teachers had to carry me to get my senior picture taken, and I refused to take part in anything that I felt that I could avoid. I hated being locked up in that place.

Or did I?

A few days ago, I went to my 40th high school reunion. It was something that I looked forward to as a chance to see some old friends, some of which I hadn't seen in 15 years; some I hadn't seen in 40.

Many of the classmates that I still see regularly didn't bother to go. I can't say why.

What is it about high school that on one hand, I truly despised, and on the other, I remember with great fondness? Why would I be so eager to re-live an experience that I abhorred?

Maybe it's the chance to see some of the people that I have known since first grade. Those people know you the best, and are the most dear to you.

Maybe it is the chance to reconnect, or the chance to make a new connection with someone you knew a little bit, a very long time ago.

One thing I know is this. I didn't "fit" in high school. I wasn't academically inspired, except on the rare occasions in English class when the topic was literature. So, I messed around, laughed, and did my best to under-achieve. And I endured the constant reminder that I wasn't working up to my potential.

Or maybe I was. At that time, I had the potential to create mischief, and play music with my friends, which I did achieve, quite nicely.

Nevertheless, the question remains. Why was I so eager to reconnect with people that seemed, at best, to be fellow inmates of the asylum?

I see it pretty clearly now. I wonder if others see it the same way. Is it the same for me as it was for the cheerleaders, and the jocks, and the shop kids, and the pretty girls, the cool guys, and the smart kids, and the goofs like me?

The way I see it, it's rather related to what some African cultures refer to as Ubuntu. We are, because of where our parents chose to raise us, a community. Within that community, we have connection and responsibility to each other. And it is a closed community. No one else gets to join?it is ours and ours alone. The history between us gets longer, and perhaps a bit more faded, but it is our history. So, when I look at Jacqui and Joyce, I see them as they are today, and I see them as they were when we were 6 years old. That was more than 50 years ago. I see others as 12, 14, or 16, and I see them today. And it is an undeniable fact that we know each other, and share a connection that no one else has. Moreover, I can't get kicked out of this group. I am a lifetime member whether anyone likes it or not. As we all are.

So, I went to my high school reunion, and reconnected with the members of my community, and I had a blast. There are some that I hope to reconnect with more closely, and perhaps they do too.

Now that I know why I went, and why I had so much fun, I feel sorry for those who didn't, or couldn't, make the trip. It is truly a loss for them, and a loss for all of the rest of us.

After all, we belong together.

Maybe I learned something from high school after all.

I had plans for this summer, big plans. Now that summer is over, it seems that I didn't follow through too well. Here are the top ten things I didn't get done.

10. Harvest tomatoes. I was going to grow enough so that I could actually do some canning, including putting that wax on the top of a mason jar like my mom used to. I did manage to save two half green tomatoes, before the slugs got to them.

9. Get Buff. My workout regimen fell apart, on Tuesday of the first week. I did buy some expensive equipment though, so now I have a place to hang sweaters.

8. Read War and Peace. It looked too fat, so I didn't bother.

7. Hike the mountains. It seemed like a good idea in March, so I bought a backpack. You want it? I never opened it. I did drive near a big hill once, though.,

6. Make the lawn look like a golf course. I did have a little success here. My lawn looks like the part of the golf course where they test the effects of insecticide on grass.

5. Get a tattoo. That was a bad idea anyway. I shouldn't put things on here that I thought of when I was drunk.

4. Write a Concerto. There were two parts to this one. First, I was supposed to find out what a Concerto is, but I never did.

3. Buy a Speedo. I did actually try one on though. Some ideas are just scary, once you put them in motion.

2. Take the kids on a fabulous vacation to Europe, all at my expense. I have to admit that I kind of "settled," on this one. I chose to invite them over to watch the Chevy Chase movie European Vacation, instead. The good part was that none of them showed up.

1. Have a summer love. Lots of effort, no takers. Maybe I should have left my wife home when I was out trolling. I'll keep that in mind for next year.

I like progress, I really do. I like it when things get better over time, and through technology.

For instance, I think that MP3 players are magnificent. If I wanted to have all of my music with me wherever I went when I was a lad, it would have required a wheelbarrow and a very long extension cord. MP3 players are great, so are movies on DVD, and cars are way better than they were 40 years ago.

That said, I do have a bit of nostalgia about the things that were great from my youth that have either disappeared or been ?improved? to the point of ruination.

This is not only about stuff, it?s about traditions, mores, and fads.

To properly place myself, I was a teenager at the time when teenaged girls wore girdles. What this means is this: A girl really had to be committed to allowing any progress. Of course, by the time I was 18, it was '69 and I believe that underwear in all of its forms had become passé.

It seems that so much of our youth, and many of our memories seem to hinge around sex, music, and popularity.

I?m not really sure if we have made progress in these areas or not. Certainly, the dating ritual has fallen the way of girdles, Volkswagen buses, and drive-in theaters.

(For those who came after drive-ins, it was a great place to take your date. The movie was inconsequential; I preferred to listen to Marvin Gaye on the eight-track player.)

Dating was good. The boys had to humble themselves and ask for a date, with the great fear of being turned down, you had to go to the house, let the little sisters giggle at you, get dressed nice, and have a plan that included spending some money. I see this as far superior to "hooking up."

Back then boys had girlfriends. You held hands with them, and they sat right next to you in the car. That would probably be illegal today, and the last couple I saw holding hands were in their seventies, and it made my wife say, "ahhhh, that's sweet."

Sex, of course, is timeless. At least the quest is. But not too long ago there was a sort of pace to it, a timeline of sorts. Certain activities were saved for going steady, or by the number of dates.

And there were bases, milestones to achieve, with gaps of time and sweat and frustration between them. I don?t think that there are bases any more. From what I understand, it?s kind of like playing baseball, but using a golf ball. It?s a homerun every time, so the thrill is just not there.

Maybe the lack of dating ritual explains why the music, in general, sucks. There doesn't seem to be many love songs, and slow songs are unimportant because if you never have a girlfriend to break up with, you don?t need songs that reflect that end of the world feeling. I had a friend who locked himself in his room and listened to "What Becomes of the Broken Hearted," over and over, for an entire weekend. We don't need those songs any more, so kids just listen to crap like "Boom Boom Pow."

I can see why we have accepted things like cell phones, email, and cable over rabbit ears.

But why did we have to leave the romance of dating behind?

Is it just me?

We seem to stand at a time politically, when individuals make a lifetime commitment to a political party, and make all of their decisions from this shaky foundation.

We hear this language in a variety of ways, but generally, people are willing to define themselves as either republicans or democrats. I don?t mean to exclude those that define themselves as independents, or libertarians. Only their number excludes them; they are a minority. By far, the definition we make for ourselves is either Republican or Democrat. Parents even raise their children by saying things like, ?We are Republicans.?

It is these people, who falsely believe that America is a democracy, that are killing the ideals that the Constitution lays out for us. 

They call themselves by the polite definition of either Republican, or Democrat. This stiff definition actually means that they are Partisans, at best.

There is not a thing wrong with being partisan. By its definition, it means that you have a fervent belief in something. That?s great. Strong belief makes for change.

However, consider the actual behavior of so many partisans. When their candidate is elected, they stand behind him or her without question. When the candidate of the opposition is elected, they do everything that they can to block the movement of their desire for change, and the laws that they propose. To most Democrats, Republicans are evil folks that must be stopped by political force, and vice versa.

They are intolerant of the opposing point of view. And that, by definition, makes them bigots. What do we know of bigots? We know that they are hateful, and that they are intolerant.

In fact, many of these Democrats and Republicans would freely concede that those who express their bigotry and hate through matters of race, are stupid. They are willing to label them, at minimum, stupid on the issue of intolerance of another person because of their race, or their religion.

Democrats and Republicans alike would do well to consider that this bigotry, this intolerance of the other side, is just plain stupid.

Sometimes stupid is irritating, sometimes it is dangerous. Political bigotry is dangerous to the republic.

The Constitution makes no allowance for democracy. The founding fathers were wise enough to know that democracy, as it gathers the strength first of partisanship, then bigotry, leads to the potential mob rule of democracy. Consider this, only as an example, from our recent history. Some Republicans do not support the current war in the Middle East. However, they cannot speak against it, because it is the work of their party. Why can?t they? Because of the belief that if they do, the opposing party will gain rule, and they are intolerant of the other side.

Therefore, they support something that they do not believe in, for the sake of political power. Can this be wise?

Be mindful that this comment has nothing to do with war; it has to do with politics. This same position can be amplified more strongly by the people that accept that American government has condoned torture, but refuse to speak against it, because they are Republicans.

Certainly, they are equally powerful examples of Democrats that refuse to be guided by their conscience, rather than their politics.

To continue in this behavior moves us further away from being a Republic, toward a Democracy, and finally an Oligarchy. If you don?t believe me, you can look it up. Try reading about the fall of the Roman Empire.

The Roman Empire flourished initially, because it was a Republic. The Romans had seen the mistakes, and the demise of the Greek democratic system. It was the shift in Roman government, politically motivated, that sought power in the majority rule, which ultimately led to Oligarchy, and the Caesar?s.

Do we have a way out? Perhaps.

We would all have to remember that America is a Republic, and therefore, a nation ruled by laws, not power.

Ultimately, it means that we have to make our decisions based on right and wrong, without giving a damn what side of the aisle we sit in.