Recently we've had a debate in our family. After viewing "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" staring Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, I theorized that this indeed was the perfect marriage. Rough in the beginning. O.K. very rough. And then in the end it is just perfect ballet.
My middle daughter, who wishes to remain anonymous, objected strenuously. She is a psychology major and I inquired whether the textbooks describe the marital bond as similar to that of Brad and Angelina. "Heavens no, dad. Are you saying that marriage is like the elevator scene where she nearly kills Brad?"
"Yes," I replied. "That is so real." "The only part that seems too long is the scene at the end where they move in perfect harmony with the machine guns killing all the enemy. Without even a nick or scratch from flying fragments. I am still waiting for that in real life.
Recently "Fred" has written about what he learned about the "open meeting" law at a recent municipal conference for new aldermen. He says:
"One thing I'm learning is that the requirements of open-ness and transparency in local government gives rise to a general slowness in getting things done. For example, alders can almost never have private conversations among themselves about issues. The monthly meetings, held in the public eye, are where we must discuss things before coming to decisions. That's to protect us from accusations of "secret deals" etc, and to ensure that you the citizens have access to the decision-making process."
So, as a matter of debate, I would propose that meetings in our fair city should resemble the relationship of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie during most of the movie----with wild differences of thought that are aired---but rather in public not in private.
If one ever sees orchestrated movement in perfect harmony we will know that something is wrong--terribly wrong. It is only an absolute miracle if all alders could agree in the normal happening of things on anything, and then probably only if they had chatted in private before the meeting or something. Heaven forbid.
So there it is. "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" the movie and the politics. If we ever see perfect harmony, perfect lawyering, perfect grant proposals, perfect public works and perfect dancing with machine guns----or perfect harmony in voting---we will know.
Now. Who is the Brad Pitt? O.K. you all can fight about it.
That's how I see it. You heard it on The Evansville Observer
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
OpEd: Reflection: I Do NOT know best
One of the emotions of the newly engaged couple is that surely their love is like no other. And as a natural byproduct....any product of that love must be like no other. Indeed...every young parent believes, and I insist must believe, that it has been ordained from all time for them to raise the perfect child, a child like no other, a child that may have to change the world, since indeed....the parent has not had an opportunity to effect that revolution yet.
It is required that a young parent be so enthused. So confident. so entirely religious in devotion to that first born. As the parent of the first born, one is convinced that imparting every wisdom of the ages will give that youngster a headstart---the cutting edge to the life of unlimited success.
Somewhere along the way....maybe after the third child......for some parents this never occurs......
One comes to the conclusion that one does not indeed know best. That this child is a mystery to itself and one's parents..... and a wonderful mystery indeed. And that behold even without the wonderful wisdom of the parent...it is going to be and do just fine. One begins to have confidence that this first born can deal with the NEW just fine. That the OLD is not relevant. Call it an OBAMA moment.
The OBAMA moment will come for Evansville tomorrow as folks convene for the Economic Summit.
Stay tuned.
It is required that a young parent be so enthused. So confident. so entirely religious in devotion to that first born. As the parent of the first born, one is convinced that imparting every wisdom of the ages will give that youngster a headstart---the cutting edge to the life of unlimited success.
Somewhere along the way....maybe after the third child......for some parents this never occurs......
One comes to the conclusion that one does not indeed know best. That this child is a mystery to itself and one's parents..... and a wonderful mystery indeed. And that behold even without the wonderful wisdom of the parent...it is going to be and do just fine. One begins to have confidence that this first born can deal with the NEW just fine. That the OLD is not relevant. Call it an OBAMA moment.
The OBAMA moment will come for Evansville tomorrow as folks convene for the Economic Summit.
Stay tuned.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
"The Case of the "Farsighted" Pundits
It is a curious matter that when one reviews pundits, on political, finance, sports or whatever it appears that most of the visionary talk is about politicians a long distance away--2000 miles or so is best.
It seems that though most Americans have "nearsightedness" and have their vision corrected routinely with eyeglasses, the fact is that few Americans have the problem of "farsightedness" where the vision is poor longer range but great short range.
Thus the irony----- pundits always act as though they are "farsighted"------mostly though, whether it is the local news, or local issues, it is rather that folks find it inconvenient to even admit differences in the nearsighted range. In the all consuming effort to please, like a little child being good for an ice cream cone, the pundits act ......blind......and look thousands of miles away.
It seems that though most Americans have "nearsightedness" and have their vision corrected routinely with eyeglasses, the fact is that few Americans have the problem of "farsightedness" where the vision is poor longer range but great short range.
Thus the irony----- pundits always act as though they are "farsighted"------mostly though, whether it is the local news, or local issues, it is rather that folks find it inconvenient to even admit differences in the nearsighted range. In the all consuming effort to please, like a little child being good for an ice cream cone, the pundits act ......blind......and look thousands of miles away.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
"The mystery of Lot and Little"---the poem
(Ed.note: I found these words on a scrap of paper in a book in the local library. I have republished them without editing.)
A
lot of
a
little
is a
little
A
little of
a
lot
is
ALOT
A
lot of
a
little
is a
little
A
little of
a
lot
is
ALOT
Monday, January 7, 2008
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Tis the Season----the poem
(Ed. note: I found this short poem scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper and stuffed into the mesh bag on the back of a motorized wheel chair carelessly parked near the bridge that crosses Allen Creek. After extensive analysis, I have discovered the words and have faithfully reprinted it without any editing.)
To Everything
Turn
Turn
Turn
That was the chant
or was
it the
rant
Tis the Season
To
Remember
or Season to
Forget
Which
is Best
I
cannot recall....
Time to
Build
or
Time
to
Flood
Which it
was
I
forget or
was it
pump
Time to
Love
or
Time to
Hate
Which it
Was
I
Forget.....
or was it
Regret
Time to
Pray
or was it
Lie
So hard
to know
the reason
why
Time to
MAP
or Time
to
lie and
then
map
Tis the
Season
To Everything
Turn
Turn
Turn
That was the chant
or was
it the
rant
Tis the Season
To
Remember
or Season to
Forget
Which
is Best
I
cannot recall....
Time to
Build
or
Time
to
Flood
Which it
was
I
forget or
was it
pump
Time to
Love
or
Time to
Hate
Which it
Was
I
Forget.....
or was it
Regret
Time to
Pray
or was it
Lie
So hard
to know
the reason
why
Time to
MAP
or Time
to
lie and
then
map
Tis the
Season
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sermon: Fr. Kevin Dooley 12-23-2007
"The Trust and Faith of Joseph"---sermon of Fr. Kevin Dooley of St. Paul's Church on 12-23-2007
MP3 File
MP3 File
Sunday, December 23, 2007
"The Observer Prayer"
Thursday, September 01, 2005
The Observer Prayer
Lord
When I was young
I had answers,
Now, I have only
questions
Teach me when I think I have the truth,
to pause and just ask
Questions,
and then shut up and
Listen
Teach me where there is
strident certainty
to look for
fear
and where there is difference
to look for
unity
When I face those who
think they are
self made and independent
Lord, remind me that all that is
beautiful and strong
You created in abundance for
free
Finally, Lord,
In the midst of a battle
Remind me to just wear
My Observer hat and
Observe
The Observer Prayer
Lord
When I was young
I had answers,
Now, I have only
questions
Teach me when I think I have the truth,
to pause and just ask
Questions,
and then shut up and
Listen
Teach me where there is
strident certainty
to look for
fear
and where there is difference
to look for
unity
When I face those who
think they are
self made and independent
Lord, remind me that all that is
beautiful and strong
You created in abundance for
free
Finally, Lord,
In the midst of a battle
Remind me to just wear
My Observer hat and
Observe
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
"The Grinch that Stole Christmas"---or the power of positive accounting
This morning, Morgan Stanley, the distinguished financial services firm on Wall Street, announced that their earning loss for the quarter was ten times larger than they expected----no problem though, they had secured a large investment of cash from some foreign company.
One always looks to these revered financial firms as role models----the problem of course is that the average homeowner or retired American cannot have an oil shiek help with a cash infusion in a time of financial pinch. I have the ability to call on Skype. but just do not have the correct numbers.. The telephone numbers as well as the collateral.....
It has been years, and maybe a generation since folks have had to look at the accounting of things on a cash basis----it has become only a faint memory. In the Visa commercial, where everyone is in line, and the customers are speeding through the checkoutline with fabulous precision, the one grinch that snarls up the works is the person with "cash." What a foreign concept. Actually paying in current time for products is a very weird concept. Especially weird at Christmas, where I bet over 95 % of all sales are on credit cards.
Recessions mark a time of change in accounting psychology, and we are seeing it right now---although the power of denial is very strong in many folks. In every mind, there is the split accounting system---the power of positive accounting system that folks have been living with over the past 20 years or so----- and then the CASH basis accounting, which is NOT welcome, and has become the "Grinch" of Christmas.
So---What's in your wallet? What is in your Heart?
It might just be that to get the answer "JOY" for the second question, you will need to answer CASH in the first.
One always looks to these revered financial firms as role models----the problem of course is that the average homeowner or retired American cannot have an oil shiek help with a cash infusion in a time of financial pinch. I have the ability to call on Skype. but just do not have the correct numbers.. The telephone numbers as well as the collateral.....
It has been years, and maybe a generation since folks have had to look at the accounting of things on a cash basis----it has become only a faint memory. In the Visa commercial, where everyone is in line, and the customers are speeding through the checkoutline with fabulous precision, the one grinch that snarls up the works is the person with "cash." What a foreign concept. Actually paying in current time for products is a very weird concept. Especially weird at Christmas, where I bet over 95 % of all sales are on credit cards.
Recessions mark a time of change in accounting psychology, and we are seeing it right now---although the power of denial is very strong in many folks. In every mind, there is the split accounting system---the power of positive accounting system that folks have been living with over the past 20 years or so----- and then the CASH basis accounting, which is NOT welcome, and has become the "Grinch" of Christmas.
So---What's in your wallet? What is in your Heart?
It might just be that to get the answer "JOY" for the second question, you will need to answer CASH in the first.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
St. Paul's; December 16, 2007
Third Sunday in Advent: "Rejoice"---on the meaning of rejoice, on the entrance hymn for Easter Vigil, sung by Fr. Kevin Dooley
Thursday, December 13, 2007
"It is More than the Bricks that you Seek".....
Recently our town restored the brick street downtown, in an effort to revitalize the downtown business district.
On the way back from the ceremony of dedication, I happened to bump into a local historian and we chatted for a while. She asked me how I liked bricks. I mentioned that while I was a history major and indeed had specialized in the period of 1900 to 1930, and loved the homes, and indeed lived in one built in 1912 just identical to the one my grandpa had built himself in 1912, with the hardwood floors and such, I still felt that folks were really being nostalgic for something larger.
"What?" she asked.
"Well," I went on, in the days before World War I, there was a connectedness of small communities-----yes there is a size factor------and when folks remember the time of the bricked streets, it is really that close community that they miss. It was a real time once-----and only the bricks remain of it now.
Memories of Paul Hawthorne---
Years ago when I was in grade school, 8th grade, I sat on the isle next to the windows, and just to the right of the unabridged Wester dictionary. Yes. It has been a while since that dictionary was the total resource for learning beyond books. Right behind me sat one of my best friends---Paul Hawthorne.
We served at Mass together and played hockey down at the old Wildwood park area as you come into Mahtomedi. In the 1920's it had been where the ferris wheel was located, and as we skated, we could still see the pillars below the ice that had supported the giant ferris wheel---or at least we thought so.
Paul was often absent from school in those days. Mostly I remember how quiet and friendly he was. Sister Bernadine, our teacher, once said that Paul was having some health issues, and that we should all pray for him.
Then in March, I got the call. His sisters were having a special birthday party for Paul. He was turning 13. I offered to bring my short course golf flags and make a couple of holes to try out our skill. The sisters were going to have bowling downstairs in a makeshift bowling lane. And there was also ping pong. And there would be lots to eat. Saturday could not come soon enough.
The party started at 10am. Everyone from my class was there. It was the greatest party I had ever been to. Golf....bowling...ping pong....laughs...and everybody seemed to get along...and we all wished the party could go on forever.
Finally at 6PM, I headed home. Totally exhausted.
Two weeks later Sister Bernadine began class and quietly told us that Paul Hawthorne had died last night. From Hogskins Disease. It seemed it was a type of leukemia. Sister said that we would keep his desk empty the rest of the year in his memory.
Years ago, at the class reunion of 1996, a woman approached me and introduced herself. She said " Do you remember the party for Paul Hawthorne? I am his little sister."
"I sure do remember," I said. "And the courage and quiet strength of Paul during those days is something that has given me strength in difficult times. I will never forget."
We served at Mass together and played hockey down at the old Wildwood park area as you come into Mahtomedi. In the 1920's it had been where the ferris wheel was located, and as we skated, we could still see the pillars below the ice that had supported the giant ferris wheel---or at least we thought so.
Paul was often absent from school in those days. Mostly I remember how quiet and friendly he was. Sister Bernadine, our teacher, once said that Paul was having some health issues, and that we should all pray for him.
Then in March, I got the call. His sisters were having a special birthday party for Paul. He was turning 13. I offered to bring my short course golf flags and make a couple of holes to try out our skill. The sisters were going to have bowling downstairs in a makeshift bowling lane. And there was also ping pong. And there would be lots to eat. Saturday could not come soon enough.
The party started at 10am. Everyone from my class was there. It was the greatest party I had ever been to. Golf....bowling...ping pong....laughs...and everybody seemed to get along...and we all wished the party could go on forever.
Finally at 6PM, I headed home. Totally exhausted.
Two weeks later Sister Bernadine began class and quietly told us that Paul Hawthorne had died last night. From Hogskins Disease. It seemed it was a type of leukemia. Sister said that we would keep his desk empty the rest of the year in his memory.
Years ago, at the class reunion of 1996, a woman approached me and introduced herself. She said " Do you remember the party for Paul Hawthorne? I am his little sister."
"I sure do remember," I said. "And the courage and quiet strength of Paul during those days is something that has given me strength in difficult times. I will never forget."
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Wild West-----
There is a notion...and it has been pretty doggone persistent over a few hundred years, that back in them there pioneer days, there was just the natural ways...just the wild and free livin of truly lawless and unrestrained individuals-----
There is also the further notion, that if we could just somehow get back to those good old days of wild livin, free of a strong central government....and in fact free of all regulation and inhibition of any kind, that ....well.....we would be perfectly happy....and if one was a business owner....rich....which is the same thing.
As a young boy, I had the freedom to read all the stories of Wyatt Erpe. I know that there was a lot more law in them there parts than some folks remember. I know that the lawmen did their job. Many gun toting hombres were driven from town. Back when the frontier was the frontier. When saloons were saloons. When bricks were bricks. When good was good....and bad was just bad....and not bad to the bone.
There is also the further notion, that if we could just somehow get back to those good old days of wild livin, free of a strong central government....and in fact free of all regulation and inhibition of any kind, that ....well.....we would be perfectly happy....and if one was a business owner....rich....which is the same thing.
As a young boy, I had the freedom to read all the stories of Wyatt Erpe. I know that there was a lot more law in them there parts than some folks remember. I know that the lawmen did their job. Many gun toting hombres were driven from town. Back when the frontier was the frontier. When saloons were saloons. When bricks were bricks. When good was good....and bad was just bad....and not bad to the bone.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Sermon of the Week: Fr. Kevin: 12-9-2007
The Dream: What Peace and Justice might look like--Something to think of as we approach Christmas.
"Boy Scout Sunday"
Last Sunday something unusual happened. It was December 2, and the First Sunday of Advent. Christmas shoppers took off a little time on Sunday morn to attend Church. As I entered one local church here in our fair city, I smelled natural gas. My nose has been finely tuned to the smell, and I went to the lower level and the smell got stronger. Others had noticed and had called the proper authorities to inspect.
The side doors to the Church were opened, and the service began. There was a slight interruption when the sirens stopped right outside the Church as the sermon began---and the sermon began with the text reminding folks to "Be Prepared" for the end of times. And noting that even at the time of the big flood, with Noah building the ark and all, the neighbors went about their business with the normal festivities, weddings and carousing of the time. They saw Noah, but just figured it was some guy that was on the edge.
When the pastor began the sermon, he noted that this Sunday was pretty simple----the message was "Be Prepared." This is the time for preparation and not the shopping frenzy.
I liked the sermon. I even got the "Be Prepared" message without the natural gas smell. I have always loved shopping at the last minute anyway, or better yet with gift cards so the person receiving gets those great after Christmas bargains. It seems the way this season is going, all of America is on board for the after Christmas bargains.
Finally----the spirit of Be Prepared and the secular bargain thang are in perfect synch.
So---prepare----wait-----there is plenty of time to shop. Later.
The side doors to the Church were opened, and the service began. There was a slight interruption when the sirens stopped right outside the Church as the sermon began---and the sermon began with the text reminding folks to "Be Prepared" for the end of times. And noting that even at the time of the big flood, with Noah building the ark and all, the neighbors went about their business with the normal festivities, weddings and carousing of the time. They saw Noah, but just figured it was some guy that was on the edge.
When the pastor began the sermon, he noted that this Sunday was pretty simple----the message was "Be Prepared." This is the time for preparation and not the shopping frenzy.
I liked the sermon. I even got the "Be Prepared" message without the natural gas smell. I have always loved shopping at the last minute anyway, or better yet with gift cards so the person receiving gets those great after Christmas bargains. It seems the way this season is going, all of America is on board for the after Christmas bargains.
Finally----the spirit of Be Prepared and the secular bargain thang are in perfect synch.
So---prepare----wait-----there is plenty of time to shop. Later.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
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