"Don't be Cruel " ....Elvis

  Elvis has left the room !

            Or at least is well on his way out the door !

He sang "Don't be cruel to a heart that's true ...

   Don't want no other love; Baby, it's still you I'm thinking of."

Dictionary : "Cruel": "willfully causing pain or suffering to others and feeling no concern about it."  Some synonyms include; "harsh, merciless, bloodthirsty, hateful, inhumane,vicious and heartless."

  "Empathy" by contrast means "the ability to understand and share another person's feelings, thoughts, and experiences by imaginging oneself in their situation." It is foundational for the existence of commonwealth ... "a political community founded for the common good", including the less-healthy, less-wealthy and too often, the less-white.  It gives a resounding "YES" to the question "Am I my  brother [and sister's] keeper ?" But a society based on self-centeredness ... everyone for themselves and to hell with anyone else ... is, well, Cruel.

  Mr. Musk recently called empathy "the fundamental weakness of Western civilization". One news commentator observed that "Elon Musk seems to believe  that cruelty is the antidote to empathy." 

  The American historian, Hannah Arendt, who wrote The Origins of Totalitarianism, noted that "the death of human empathy  is one of the earliest and most telling signs of a culture about to fall into barbarism."  Surveying contemporary American

society and politics, David Brooks of the New York Times bluntly noted a "callous tolerance of cruelty."

  Recently, despite numerous polls showing opposition, Congress passed a bill that expresses CRUELTY toward large numbers of vulnerable Americans. 

 A minister friend wrote that the administration is "systematically strip[ping] away social  safety nets, 

gut[ting] programs meant to  care for the elderl

the disabled

the poor

the marginalized

the orphaned and the widow--

the ones God's heart beats fiercest for -- 

'while they passs a Big Beautiful Bill

that is only beautiful

if your bank account is already overflowing

And to keep you from noticing,

they light fires of distraction. " 

  

  Statistics can disguise the full magnitude of human suffering

unless we remember that those statistics represent impacted PEOPLE. .For example:

 ..To the estimated 85 million people already uninsured, another 17 million will lose health insurance coverage. "Let 'em get a job is frequently offered as a 'reason' to eliminate persons from Medicaid. A U.S. Congresswoman from South Carolina recently expressed that attitude in much coarser terms. 

    Medicaid "fraud" glosses over the fact that there are MANY reasons why some people cannot work and none imply

laziness 

...nursing homes receive approximately two-thirds (2/3) of their support from Medicaid.

...many rural and small town hospitals will be forced to close.  Our local hospital has been projected to be among the "likely".  Also, see a column in July 6, 2025, New York Times, " 'Tears My Heart to Pieces: North Carolina Braces for Medicaid Cuts" .

...Through no fault nor responsibility of theirs, millions of children will be deprived of nutritional sustenance

...Law-abiding, long-time U.S. residents will increasingly 'disappear' without their Constitional right to due process

being honored.  The bill provides for billions of dollars increase in ICE's budget. 

  Additional examples of cruelty abound: A concentration camp for detaining non-criminal people. And given the brazen name "Alligator Alcatraz", though some have suggested  that a more accurate name would be "Alligator Auschwitz". Then there are the not-humorous jokes about what will happen to anyone attempting escape.

     Likely, many of those incarcerated could update Elvis's words to "Don't be cruel to a heart that's true; Don't want no other homeland; USA, it's you I'm dreaming of".

    "Don't be Cruel !"

                              Satchel

    

   

             

   

   

                                      

    

'Good Night and Good Luck'

    Edward R. Murrow, a trusted mid-twentieth century journalist , typically ended his broadcasts with "Goodnight and Good Luck."  Currently a drama using that tag line dominates Broadway and was recently televised live.   So, what was there about this newsman that resonates many decades later ?

       As an undergrad in the late 1950's, I played his 78 rpm vinyl, "I Can Hear it Now",  so many times that  I almost had it memorized.  The actual voices and sounds of many historical  persons and events captivated me.  Murrow had earlier gained renown with his live broadcasts from London during the German bombing blitz.  (Both that recording and excerpts of  the London broadcasts are available onYouTube.)After the war, he became the 'face' of CBS  news, first on radio and ultimately on television.

    In that latter position, he helped end one of our country's darkest eras. Joe McCarthy, Wisconsin's Junior Senator, sowed fear and ended many careers with his "Communist Witch Hunt".  Murrow was one of few who dared confront McCarthy's lies and intimidations. Several of  these broadcasts are also  readily available on YouTube by simply searching his name. President Lyndon B. Johnson awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1964, calling him a "gallant fighter" in the search for truth as a newsman and public official.  According to one website , "Murrow was especially known for his1954 expose on Senator Joseph McCarthy who made sensational but unproven charges of communist infiltration in the U.S. government. With this and other reporting, Murrow became known for his commitment to truth and objectivity."

     Speaking truth to power requires courage and integrity, especially when fear is rampant and distortions and lies abound. Some Murrow quotes that continue to have relevance:

  ."We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty."

  ."We cannot defend freedom abroad by deserting it at home."

   ."A nation of sheep will begat a government of wolves."

   ."I simply cannot accept that there are on every story two equal and logical sides to an argument."

    ."We will not walk in fear."

             Satchel

     

        

    

'TIL THE 'FUZZ' WEARS OFF

 

       "She thought that some fuzzy ducklings would provide happiness and fun" he complained.  "Ducklings become  ducks and ducks don't just smell bad, they stink", he continued.  Then came his forecast that "she will enjoy them 'til the fuzz wears off" and then the responsibility/work/committment will not always be "fun".

     While his bewilderment focused on actual ducks, I sensed that he had created a metaphor for much of 'life'.  Whether acquired for "fun", diversion, or a perception of 'necessity',  eventually the 'new' wears off and 'now what ?'

   I still remember the delight that I felt in 2004 when I was handed the keys to a new Toyota Camry, the first new car that I had bought in  decades. It gleamed. smelled fresh, and had more 'bells and whistles' than any automobie I had ever owned. (Well, ownership came 3 years later with the final monthly payment.)  For many years I drove it a minimum of 350-400 miles in my work.   Now that I work from home and seldom drive that car, it sets rather forlornly on the side street ---with its 250,000+ miles, broken mirror, faded luster, crippled CD player, and lots of additional "fuzz" gone. However, having the nearby dealership provide regular service and maintenance, I still get 30 miles per gallon in dependable transportation.

    Something akin to that process happens to humans. A young boy's "peach fuzz" gives way either to the near daily ritual of shaving or growing 'facial foliage'.  A collector related his pleasure and pride in obtaining a painting by a renown artist. In the first few months, he delighted in having friends visit to admire his acquisition. Soon he was daily walking past it without even turning his head.

    "Fuzz" can provide much needed bright spots to the routine, to the  ordinary, to the responsibilities of life. Without being cynical (like the man who disparaged the ducklings) maybe there is a balance to be found in having "Ducklings and Ducks".

     Satchel

The eighteenth of April in Seventy-five

                                                           "The British Are Coming !"

 "Listen, my children, and you shall hear

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.

On the eighteenth of April in Seventy-five

Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year." 

         Henry W. Longfellow

Longfellow wrote this poem in 1860 ; published it the following year in The Atlantic Monthly Magazine.  There on the eve of the Civil War, the poet was attempting to rally Union sentiment by venerating a hero of the American Revolution who had alerted colonial patriots of impemding suppression by British troops marching from Boston towards Lexington and Concord.  It was then that the first shots were fired in the American Revolution and the long struggle  to establish a new independent nation. In time, Thomas Jefferson and others declared that "all men are created equal" and eventually a Constitution ratified as  the Supreme law of the nation.

   All this because of several people (Revere was not the only messenger) alerted the colonial militia of the King's army en route to further diminish their freedoms ? While there is a much more complex 'back story', this overview is accurate. Scholars have demonstrated that although Longfellow somewhat embellished details, Revere's ride and the aftermath signaled 'turning points' for Americans.

   It is afternoon of April 18, 2025, as I write this--- 250 years since that celebrated date.  Fifty years ago today, my former seminary roommate and I happened to be in Boston at the same time--- he and his wife accompanying a youth group from their church in New York state and I  attending a History conference.  We arranged to meet at the  Observation Room atop the John Hancock building.  Looking North,with a full panorama of Boston below us as dusk approached, we heard on the self-paced guided tour words to the  effect that at a particular location we could see the  Old North Church where Revere and ally arranged lantern signals at dusk to indicate British troop movements . . . 200 years exactly since that date. We both immediately caught the fact and had goosebumps !

    Compared with many nations, the United States is a relative newcomer.  While the fulfillment of our Principles has often been erratic and incomplete, commitment to human dignity, common good, and the rule of Law must not be abandoned nor relinquished.  And though the 'British Redcoats' are no longer the instruments of tyranny and suppression, they have contemporary counterparts.

   Longfellow's poem remains a call to action, reminding us of  the courage of our ancestors: "So through the night rode Paul Revere,

And so through the night went his cry of alarm . . .

A cry of defiance and not of fear . . . And a word that shall echo forevermore !  For borne of the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last.'

In the hour of darkness and peril and need

The people will waken and listen to hear

The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere." 

     Satchel

 alerting

A NEW HIP

 

     

                                        "Never doubt  the healing quality of cold surgical steel."

                                      M.D. Wachs, MD     Retired Orthopedic Surgeon    Ca 1975

                                                       

                                                   

       

"What is the difference in 'Major' surgery  and 'Minor' surgery ?''

   The answer, often heard,  "If you have it, it's Minor surgery.

        If I have it, it's Major surgery !"

   My left hip had been increasingly bothersome for a couple of years and my college friend, Dr. Ben Zambrana, assured me that I would know beyond doubt when surgery was indicated.  Both my younger brothers, each a veteran of several orthopedic surgeries, had expressed their incredulence that I had not joined the club, though I have had several non-orthopedic procedures.

   Dr. Z was right and 'my time' arrived. My physician assured me that my being 87 years old was not a deterrent, so plans proceeded for the 'grand opening'.  Somethings remain unchanged ----'dignity' quickly vanishes when the 'gown' complete with open derriere becomes the official uniform. On previous occasions, I received general anesthesia but  my surgeon  recommended the spinal option with a 'counsciousness suppressant'.  A logical but unanticipated result was my total paralysis below the waist.  Willing my legs to move became a futility, and increased my empathy with those for whom this is a permanent realtity.

   Lewis Grizzard once commented that "surgery will change your attitude towards narcotics". Beyond whatever pain-control meds may have been administered during the operation, I have had no narcotic  meds nor significant pain.  The anterior approach to the joint has significantly reduced post-op concerns.  Same day hospital discharge occurs frequently. By contrast, my brother, a retired orthopedic surgeon, remembered that 50 years ago when he began doing hip replacement surgery using the  posterior approach, patients stayed in the hospital for  a week.  Thereafter, they had to use a triangular pillow

between their legs when in bed for a month post op. 

   The title of a 1970's pop psychology book, I Ain't Well but  I Sure am Better, aptly describes my post op experience.  The first few days definitely are not 'do it yourself' challenges. Along with my wife, our son took vacation days and came in from L.A. to assist in the numerous necessary (and sometimes unpleasant) tasks.  Being alone in the immediate aftermath of hip surgery is a  HUGE no-no.

   If this procedure is in your future and you are near the Greensboro, North Carolina area, I give an unequivocable recomendation for Dr. Brian Swinteck of EmergeOrtho and for the staff at Wesley Long Hospital (of the Cone Health System.)

  Maybe the 'Cone' part was a  playful pun on the blanket a friend gave me : 

 

                                                                     4 days post op

    Someone asked "What does that surgery cost?"  While I do not yet have a final accounting, the benefit will be greater  than a monetary price tag ---as important as that reality may be.  Because of my age, Medicare and Medicare supplemental insurance likely will significantly reduce my personal responsibility.  HOWEVER, the future of that program as well as Medicaid apparently is facing strong political headwinds that could possibly mean that basic medical care as well as life-saving surgical procedures will be beyond the financial ability of many people. . . and that would be a MAJOR catastrophe !

     Satchel

Jocko, Pinko and other professor characters

 

                                                "Jocko"  with  award  from  Elon University

        What is your first thought when you hear the words "college professor"? . . . stick in the mud ?; too serious and unapproachable? ; absent-minded ?; or . . .?  Being a History Prof from 1968-1983, I knew that no one description fit the wide variety of my colleagues' personalities. Some were sure enough stodgy, others bright and witty, etc.  Then there were several that were fun to be with and to call friends.  Many, no, most are now deceased.  First comes the tennis coach, very much  alive  Tom Parham.  While he knew my name, he always greeted me with "Pinko"

  It all started in 1968 when someone in our apartments offered tickets to a Hubert Humphrey Political rally in Charlotte.  When I expressed interest, the person told my new friend Tom that the bearded History professor must be a  Communist.  Tom thought that was  a hoot and began good-naturately calling me  "Pinko".  His being a Phys Ed teacher and the Varsity tennis coach, I  thought an appropriate  moniker for him would be "Jocko".  And so, over the years those were our greetings to each other.

   While my career as a History professor ended in 1983, Tom coached tennis at Atlantic Christian College (now Barton College) and Elon University for 19 years at each  school. Along the way, his teams won three NAIA National Championships and he was named "Coach of the Year" on four occasions.  He has been elected to eight (8 !) Halls of Fame.

   Over the years, our contacts have been infrequent; still I have good memories and great appreciation for that friendship from the past.  All this came to mind recently while doing an internet search for a different matter and happened to spot a referencee to some of his post-retirement writings. Jocko knows how to tell a good story, as attested by the  inscription on the plaque above.   It was a pleasure reconnecting last week.

     Our correspondence brought to mind some of the other interesting and colorful colleagues from that era.  Allow me  to introduce a few: Ed outwardly portrayed a curmudgeonly old batchelor. Behind his sardonic New England wit was a very kind man.  At the beginning of every Friday class, he would unfurl his small TGIF flag; Dr. Mildred Hartsock, the venerable Chair of the English Department, endured many graduation ceremonies by drawing an outline of the U.S. on her bulletin and filling in the state borders; Norbert was a 'colorful' (pun intended) Art professor. At a faculty picnic, he achieved the nearly impossible feat of throwing a double ringer ahead of me. Imagine our surprise when I topped his ringers with two of my own, thereby negating his miracle; Tom M. drove the Humane Society's Animalance, a converted hearse. As running buddies, we often noted the irony of two middle-age men jogging through the streets of a cemetery in pursuit of health; Bill and Roger taught in the Religion Department. Bill later became a Seminary Dean and Roger was  a member of the translation team for the Good News for Modern Man Bible version; "Doc" Sanford once played first base for the Washington Senators; Eddie claimed to have been a German soldier in World War Two. Dr. Marshall questioned him about his unit and being something of a history buff recognized the group as  part of the destruction of the Czech town of Lidice. The conversation topic change abruptly.

    Then there were others. Maybe for a later time. For the most part, "thanks for the memories".

     Did you have any interesting teachers/professors

         Satchel

     

WHO WAS 'THAT' ?

   

        

                       Just prior to their deaths in 1951                            Wedding picture

                  My maternal grand-parents

"Mom has closets full of old pictures, without any identifiers. Old relatives and friends long since forgotten" my acquaintence told me.  She plannned a 'great throwing away party'. I offered an alternative idea: sell them to an antique dealer. 

  Just a few days before, we were in a local antique shop and  there they were . . . baskets of pictures of people in all kinds of attire, ceremonies, everyday life events. All of these with no or minimal identifications. Apparently, the items sell.

   Still, there is something sad about this. My parents' albums contained images that others wondered 'who was that?' The above  pictures of my grand-parents are an exception . . . for now. Hollie McKay in a recent Substack article about the losses in the California wildfire noted that "  things" are more than possesssions; they are the tangible connections to  loved ones, past chapters, and a sense of self. The family photographs aren't just pieces of paper --they are fragments of time, capturing moments you'll never get back."  She continued "Even the most minor, most mundane items .  . . are imbued with meaning."

  Back to those images in antiques stores:  I find it easy to conjure stories about those forgotten folks--- were they healthy, did they live rewarding lives, what were the occasions captured in those 'pieces of paper',etc.  

  It will take a biti of time but I plan to write identifiers on most of my important photographs so that some time in the s future, no one will need ask  "Who was    that?"  Here are a few of those needing attention:

 

 Can you identify all the folks in your collection ?

Satchel   

 

Strength for Today and 'Hope' for Tomorrow

                                                                   Despite the Odds                                                           

   "Well, I have to go back now to the Eighteenth Century where I live." That was a prominent academic historian saying his good-bye to a colleague. The past can sometimes be an interesting place to visit.  However, escapism provides neither a good nor healthy place to live for extended periods.  For  many persons hurtful  experiences and memories of the past continue to  intrude on their 'right now' and make envisioning a better future difficult. Even so, ignorance of the past (whether willful or otherwise) often creates messy scenarios for present and the future. 

    Quoted more often that practiced, George Santayana's warning still stands: Those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it.  Seems to make sense that the better we understand the past ---our own and society's -- the greater the possibility that we can live in the now and look forward to the future. 

     An ancient prayer implored, "From ghoulies and ghosties, long-leggitie beasties and things that go Bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!".  Few persons today believe in literal 'ghoulies and ghosties', nontheless they have things from their past going Bump in the night, detracting from  their sense of well-being.  Do you remember the cartoon Calvin and Hobbes ? Calvin often heard things 'bumping' under his bed until his dad brought a flashlight. We, likewise, look for a light to bring our 'Monsters' into perspective so that we don't fall into despair that life is 'going to hell in a handbasket', despite an abundance of examples to the contrary at the moment.  You want specific names for those 'monsters' ?  Check most any day's newsfeed, now or even years ago.  For my birthday a friend once gave me a book made up of the front page of the New York Times for that day and month going 'way back'.  Some of those looked pretty current, scary and bump-in-the nightish.

   Many years ago, Dr. Harry Emerson Fosdick, a then prominent minister, preached a sermon that he called "No [one] Need Stay the Way They Are".  In effect he was saying that there is a 'Yet to Come' as well as a 'Back There' and a 'Right Now' and that life can be better. Another word for that is HOPE, hardly the same thing as Pollyanna or 'Wishful thinking' ---the kind of Hope that kept Dr. Viktor Frankl alive in a Nazi concentration camp. (see his book Man's Search for Meaning). 

   Albert Camus writing in the aftermath of World War II contended that all was "Absurd" and without purpose or meaning.  On the other hand, One  dictionary sugests that having HOPE is being able to forsee a path to a better future.  Dr.Martin Luther King, Jr. maintained that "the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends  toward justice". The late psychiatrist, Dr. Gordon Livingston in Too Soon Old, Too Late Smart: Thirty True Things You Need to Know pointed out that many persons find their Hope from within their religious beliefs and practices. My all-time favorite professor said that he once considered Hope to be icing on the cake of Life but more recently he believed that Hope was the very cake itself, keeping us Alive even in the presence of all that indicates otherwise.  That is congruent with the words of Hymn of Promise. (Google it, if interested) Livingston also indicated that others find their Hope in different places.

   There is a lot of Despair floating around these days.  Is it naive to look for Hope without some idealizing the 'Good Old Days' (which were often Horrible)?

    Where are you looking for/ finding Hope ?

        Satchel

   

"Damn Yankees"

             

    After last night's 4-2 win, the L.A. Dodgers have a 3 game advantage over the New York Yankees in the baseball World Series.  I don't know when or how I came to dislike the Yankees. It even predates my occasional interest in the (often) hapless Boston Red Sox.

   In 1949, the season came down to the final game between the Red Sox and the Yankees. NY center fielder, Joe DiMaggio, told his younger brother, Dom, the Red Sox center fielder, that he was going to win the game for his team. Whereupon Dom replied, "I'll be in that game too".  The Yankees won.

Now long-suffering Boston fans still relish memories of the 2004 playoff when the Red Sox  overcame a 3 game deficit to win the next 4 games from NY. Then they defeated the Cardinals  in   4 straight games.

   Dad's influence made me a St. Louis Cardinal (and Stan Musial) fan. But the dominant team in the 1950's was the "D.Y's".  I remember watching many black and white televised games where Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle, Vic Raschi, Allie Reynolds,Phil Rizzuto et.al. won with numbing repetitiveness.  And in the mix was Don Larson's no-hitter in '56.  It was during that decade that the book The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant  was published . And the  following year (1955) the Broadway musical Damn Yankees opened.

     The team that moved from Brooklyn to L.A. has fielded MANY outstanding Players over the years.(See Roger Angell's The Boys of Summer).  The Dodgers and Yankees have faced each other in more Series than any other two teams ---12 times since 1941 (including this year) with New York winning 8. The Dodgers finally won in 1955 and then with the pitching of Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale in 1965, they swept the Series 4-0.

    A vignette that captures the antipathy that many hold for the Yankees occurred in 1960. Along with many colleagues at Boston University School of Theology, I crowded into the 5th floor tv lounge  to watch the 7th game between the  Pirates and Yankees.  And the place  erupted with cheers when Bill Mazeroski hit his walk off homerun. Five floors down, Professor Booth on hearing the cheering  and clapping told the few students in the classroom, "The  Pirates must have won the World Series. There are not that many Yankee fans around here to make that kind of noise. "

    The Red Sox / Yankee rivalry is probably the most intense among major league teams.  Yet, there have been many 'defectors' over the years. The first (and most famous) was Babe Ruth. Then came Red Ruffin in the 1930's and more recently Wade Boggs, Roger Clemens, Johnny Damon, Jacoby Ellsworth and others that I don't know.

    While my mother admonished me against using 4-letter words, that musical still has a title that resonates.

   Satchel

PS.... "Some of my Best Friends are Yankee fans !"

WINDSHIELDS AND REAR-VIEW MIRRORS

      "I'm going to pay attention to the view through the windshield and not be looking in the rear view mirror."  A client was reflecting on his intended response to his former wife's desertion and decision to divorce.  He used this automobile metaphor to describe how he planned to approach his future ... by looking ahead without undue preoccupation with their past.

     Acknowleding his need for a 'clean windshield' , he further decided that he could not navigate life relying primarily on the mirror of the past.  As a therapist, I think it's necessary to ask whether we can learn from 'what's back there' while avoiding 'living in the past'.  A former church member learned to drive when in her 80's. At her funeral, I said that her always avoiding the reverse gear was the perfect description for how she had lived.

   The Danish theologian, Soren Kierkegaard, claimed that life could be understood only by looking backwards but had to be lived looking ahead.  Maybe that is a good approach. Avoiding 'learning from the past' risks head-on collisions in the present. Car mirrors do warn us that "OBJECTS IN THE MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR". Too much nostalgia, a homesickness for the past, can blur and distort reality of the 'right now'.  Having once been an academic historian, I have observed many instances when a longing for 'the good old days' led to disastrous conseqences, for individuals and for entire nations.  Often for their own benefit, individuals and groups deliberately misrepresent matters from the past.  Examples abound in partisan politics, especially around election times.

    Maybe the 'meaning' of windshields and rear-view mirrors has to do with balance --- an honest appraisal of the past and a clear view  of what is ahead of us.

      Satchel

"Maybe it is time you started acting your age"

                   "Maybe it is time you started acting your age"

     Jay's doctor "half jokingly" told him that as he treated the onset of sciatica. Jay has barely passed the age to receive Social Security benefits if he chose to do so. Telling someone to 'act their age' or to speak of 'age appropriate behavior' constitute forms of Ageism: "discrimination where people are mistreated based on their age." (An online definition).  For me, it echoes 'how old is old ?' and if you have seen one old person, you have seen ONE OLD person'. While there seems to be no 'cure' for getting older ('beats the alternative' is the usual quip), stereotyping and condescending words and actions based on age are insulting.  

    'Time to start acting your age' or 'what do you expect at your age ' might mean that it is time to get a new doctor or a new fill in the blank  who shows respect despite the number of birthdays one has celebrated.  

   Yep, I have had 86 birthdays and so has my Orthopedist and we each have skills and abilities that have diminished with years.  Yet, we each continue to practice our professions with a high level of competency.  The same is true for many older persons. Skills that are used tend to remain sharp.

    In her book This Chair Rocks: A Manifesto Against Ageism, Ashton Applewhite wrote of  Global Wrinkling and its many implications. There is an unacknowledged anxiety abroad about getting older that finds 'scapegoats' in order to lessen the reality of one's own eventual mortality.  Bravado, bluster and botox do not long hide the reality of passing time.In an earlier post, I wrote that "old age is not a definite  biological stage. The chronological age designated as old varies culturally and historically."

   Getting older does not mean ageism is acceptable.

          Satchel

Gus

 

                                                             "THAT'S   MY  DAD"

      By now you have probably seen the picture. And, likely are aware  of the mockery that has erupted on social media in response to Gus Walz's expression of  love for his dad.

    One's political affiliation or opinions melt into irrelevance in the face of derision and bullying.  As it happened, he was responding to his father's address at the recent Democratic National Convention.

And, while we later learned that he is "neurodivergent" with special needs, such ought not to have mattered. (According to Wikipedia,  neurodivergent refers to "the unique way that each person's brain develops.  That means it's not preventable, treatable or curable.")  The Rev. John Pavlovitz wrote that Gus Walz's conditions shouldn't matter and that"the mistreatment and bullying he has faced should still be  disgusting and unacceptable to decent people." Furthermoore, he wrote, "it should illicit outrage in human beings of empathy and intelligence." ( Gus Walz is America's Son . . .in The Beautiful Mess, August 23, 2024)

   The 17 year old was showing what real love  looks like. Maybe it's past time to display this kind of warmth and vulnerability, individually and as a nation.

   The worn-out adage that "big boys don't cry" continues to wreak havoc in the emotional well-being of males of all ages.   Toxic masculinity  is one manifestation.  Taboos against tenderness and vulnerability cost many their full range of being human.  As a psychotherapist, I see many of my male clients bravely seeking for healthy ways to be men without the bravado and chauvinism that has stiffled us for so long.  "John Wayne is dead. We need new models for male-ness in the 21st century" is a favorite invitation I use.

    A personal friend reflecting on the special needs of his grand-son said it well and succinctly: "Loving  kindness and  compassion  are what those with special needs desire and deserve."  I believe his observations could be extended to everyone.

     Satchel

    "Don't go near the water until you can swim ! "  Can you swim ? I cannot  --- unless a semi-dogpaddle or a short distance under water qualifies. On those rare occasions that I am in a pool, the shallow end is just fine, thanks.  And the ocean ? well, ankle deep is about the right depth. Was not always like that. As a youth, Sunday fun was going with friends to nearby Pullen Park in Raleigh. And when Mr. Schaub installed a pool at his residence, my brother and I were often invited for a Sunday afternoon swim. I donot have to search very far in the canyons of memories to locate this current (didn't mean to make the pun) aversion . . . I have almost drowned on three occasions, or thought that I might and those traumas were sufficient to keep me on dry land. 

   When I was just 3 or 4 years old, my dad took me with him to the 'municiple beach and swimming' pool in our mill village . . .a spot on the Haw River named the 'Hearn Hole'.  For reasons long forgotten, I  held dad's hand and went under water for just a moment.  And, now 80+ years later I remember opening my eyes and being slightly terrified.

    I have heard that when some folks believe they are dying they have their life flash before their eyes.  When you are just 12 years old, the movie is short. Our Scoutmaster organized a trip to the Raleigh YMCA.  Noting my reluctance to go  into the deep end, he and the Assistant Scoutmaster encouraged me to dive and that they would guarantee my safety.  I jumped and in the brief time before I felt safe, I think I had a 'roll call' of all sins, real and imagined, in my past.    As a college student I somehow passed a PE course in swimming.  In future years, from a short  distance from shore, I joined my children in riding waves on inflatable rafts.  But then . . .                     

    On a family beach trip to celebrate our parents' 50th Anniversary, I had ventured out maybe 50 yards and chest deep with a brother and our daughters. While walking back towards the beach, suddenly I was in water over my head. When I came up, I waved to my other brother for help only to have him wave back to me.  After a few more steps the  realization came that I had stepped into a narrow deep trough. My brother explained that he thought he was returning a friendly gesture.                        The 'Big Scare' occurred when suddenly I was caught in a rip tide. After telling my daughter and her friend not to come near, I asked a stranger for help. After sitting on the sand for a long time, I went briefly back into the surf at a safe depth.  That occurred approximately 40 years ago and since then I am content to sit and watch the sunrise over the Atlantic--- from a safe distance.

   Trying to understand why these thoughts recently came to the forefront, I remembered a scene from a movie we watched last week in which the male lead actor drowned attempting to rescue a person whose sailboat had capsized in a storm at sea. And then a couple of days ago, I was watching a continuing ed video on grief and observed a therapist assisting a father whose 19 year old daughter had drowned.

     The Summer  Olympics have begun and there will be lots of swim events. I will watch with admiration from the safety of my den.

    Perhaps it is fitting that for most of my life, I have been a United Methodist. Rather than total immersion in water, we believe that wetting just the top of the head is adequate.

      Be safe .

         Satchel