My Maternal Grandparents

My maternal grandfather grew up in a large family of hardworking farmers who struggled to eke out a living from the rocky infertile soil of central Minnesota. Though never talked about, the tenuous life his family lived then was remembered later in life when sitting down to dinner often inspired the light-hearted but perhaps meaningful comment: ‘if you don’t like taters dinner’s over.’
The skills and knowledge required to sustain a farming existence led the brothers to develop an iron casting business that produced iron tools for cutting and polishing the granite quarried from the local mines. My grandfather served as foreman to the men who earned their pay as heavy laborers, casting the molten iron into earthen molds. These men required the intense no-nonsense leader that my grandfather became, moving as he did about the days’ activities, a cigar in his cheek providing a visual exclamation to his hard-working persona.
In stark contrast at home G was quiet and subservient to his small soft-spoken wife whose deep evangelical belief drew grandfather into the Baptist church although I wonder about the depth of his faith.
It’s hard for me not to appreciate the boot-strap-lifting, the will it took to succeed that produced the comfortable existence his family realized. Born to relative comfort myself I wonder if I would have had the will to succeed as my grandfather did.

How to Live Authentically

Some twentieth century thinkers spent considerable time trying to understand what, exactly, one can know about the world. They thought that the fundamental basis upon which our knowledge of the world rests is suspect, based, as it is, on imagined truths originating from cultural orientations that define reality in terms of conceptual dualisms. Human inclination was to seek a secure ground of being in God or, perhaps, science that could provide reliable answers in dark times of stress and desperation. Such grounding led to unverifiable premises that produced false assumptions about the nature of the world.
A number of these deep thinkers dismissed the reliance on the eternal and infinite as being outside the realm of finite human understanding. All that can be known for certain, they thought, are the facts that exist in this world. These guys thought a primordial ground of being as disclosed through conventional world views was not to be found. An honest search would instead reveal an abyss, a nothingness beneath the cultural veneer. To live an authentic life, they believed, one must man-up, face uncertainty, tempt fate and step away from the safety of familiarity.
Other philosophers of the time thought a subjective ground of being could be found. Realizing the freedom to do what one chose depended upon a spiritual component to lift such a person beyond causal necessity. This ground of being will be personal and dependent on a belief in an existence beyond factual knowledge.
I have to say I admire these great thinkers living as they did through difficult times, unstable finances and psychological angst, who spend so much time and energy pursing ideas that provide us all the opportunity to at least contemplate how we can live our lives authentically.

The Uncommon Man

I’ve been reading, lately, about the common man, the 99% of the population that make up the social milieu and wondering what exactly common men have in common. I’m guessing these folks (well, us folks) are mostly of middle-of-the-road social and economic status, probably have limited educational accomplishment, likely adhere to some sort of religious beliefs and most certainly rely on a social network of other individuals of more-or less like mind. We’re the everyday working stiffs who execute our often-uninteresting daily toils in the hope there lies ahead a future of personal economic progress which will provide and secure leisurely retirement.
The uncommon man on the other hand is the intellectual or man of action who drives the public narrative. Maintaining his superior status in a democratic society requires he keep a finger on the pulse of the populace. When the common man begins to lose his sense of hope in a favorable future the uncommon man, in order to maintain his status, must placate the masses by providing a positive vision that a favorable future lies in wait. To maintain societal stability, keep the masses striving for more and better, the uncommon man paints a picture of prosperity near at hand, the good life awaiting those who sustain the necessary drive to be successful.
The philosopher Eric Hoffer thought an uneasy, socially and economically threatened populace of common men who, perhaps, had lost the dream of upward mobility have the potential to produce mass movements that have in the past and will likely in the future dramatically affect the course of history.
Given the state of our world, these days, it seems to me, what we need to do is seek out an uncommon man of superior artistic ability.

Is Professional Tennis a Healthy Endeavor?

Lately I’ve been viewing a series of programs about the lives of professional tennis players. The athletes that achieve elite status in the tennis world have usually been recognized as prodigies at an early age, as having unique hand to eye skills and an exceptionally strong drive to excel. In the interest of improving, competing with the best, the sport for these folks becomes of singular importance often taking them on an emotional roller coaster as their successes and failures on the court mount up.


Since in each tournament, sometimes involving nearly 100 players to begin, everyone other than the eventual winner will lose, the psychological impact of losing can be devastating for these hard-working athletes causing them to question whether they belong, hence the need for an entourage of supporters encouraging, reassuring them to continue that they have the potential to rebound from defeat. Most will experience the highs of winning but the emotional and physical intensity will eventually take its toll. Few players are able to maintain a career at the elite level for more than a few years.


As the spotlight dims, I guess the considerable monetary payback most of these players have realized will help them ease into a more conventional life, but I wonder how difficult it might be to find fulfillment after living such a high intensity reality.

Remembrances

When I was seven years old my family moved from a small house in town near the railroad tracks to another small house in the country, notable for its proliferation of mouse droppings and cold winter drafts. Though a bit strapped financially, my father, always thinking of family first, acquired a small black and white television set. Undeterred by the fuzzy picture my siblings and I sat mesmerized as Pinky Lee, an androgenous little man in suit and bowler hat thrilled us with his antics and old cartoons.

I became friends at this time with Keith, a year younger, who lived on the neighboring farm. We spent happy hours in the farms’ large barn swinging from ropes into the loose hay in the hayloft. Keith’s mother, the very model of maternal care, would make us small afternoon lunches that we would take up onto one or another of the farm’s outbuildings to enjoy. Other days were spent on the shore of the lake just beyond the cow pasture, building forts from downed tree limbs, enacting various imagined scenarios.

All of the adults in our lives were caring and dependable, assuring these times were carefree and allowing us the freedom to enjoy our youthful naivete. One wonders, now, if the rich imaginative life we enjoyed then makes up in any way for our delayed ability to assume responsibility.

Children

I’ve been thinking lately about what it means to produce children, why one would choose, in the first place, to assume the responsibility for creating one. I guess the animal instinct to procreate is a compelling motive (more so for some than others) and a need for the imagined stability of family must be a strong driver.

Once the child begins to grow, responsible parents will do what they can to instill moral and spiritual values as they understand them; will do their best to shelter their progeny from negative peer influences and impose rules they feel will lead to responsible behavior. The child, however, subject to myriad peer influences will respond as any fit animal would weighing options and quickly learning where maximal benefit lies. The parents will soon find themselves on the sidelines, no longer raising and directing, but watching and hoping for the best.

As the child develops into an independent entity, parents will see in it little resemblance to the being they imagined they birthed.

Mental Changes

Experiencing, as I am, the mental changes of aging, I’m finding certain positives occurring. Although being unable to remember what I had for dinner two hours after eating can be annoying, the advantages of ‘forgetting’ an unappealing event or appointment, accepted as excusable, has its advantages. On the downside, along with the short-term memory loss comes the inability to keep up with conversational topic switches, as when talk of a fishing trip abruptly segues to local politics.

All in all, I guess one must cheerfully accept the inevitable decline aging presents and stay upbeat. One’s longevity likely depends on it.

Playing it Safe

I’ve been thinking lately how one might exercise a desire to build a safe and insular world for oneself. By cultivating relationships one can dominate and carefully avoiding social interactions one might suppose would threaten discomfort, one might find an ideal peacefulness. One would suppose such an organized life to be an anxiety free one where there is no need for any sort of stoic discipline to ward off unpredictable negatives. I’m sure there are those who would say such a construct would be devoid of richness, of the thrills and excitement that uncertainty promises, but a well-grounded, intelligent and thoughtful individual would surely realize a contentment that supersedes adventurism.

The pitfalls of playing it safe.

When You Die You WILL Meet God

Driving down the highway the other day I saw a billboard that informed me that when I die, I will meet God.

I got to thinking about just how that conversation might go. I suppose the gist of it would concern how deserving I was; whether I was of sufficient character to join the heavenly host, whether my behaviors during my biological existence made me eligible for other-worldly benefits.

Would I be asked, I wonder, if my behaviors were reasonably upstanding, my thoughts of a benevolent if not pristine nature. Of course God, I assume, would have the answers to those questions and was playing a bit of a game with me to determine how I might spin the narrative, but, in honesty I would have to respond that in my opinion my good behaviors at least balanced the bad, evaluated on the basis of intent to contribute, on the one hand, or exploit, on the other, my fellow man.

So, if God scores on a curve, I guess my odds of reaching the great beyond aren’t too bad.

Mortality

Having recently experienced deaths of a number of people close to me, I can’t help thinking about mortality and what may come next. Humankind has, of course conceived existence of some sort after death for as long as self-consciousness has been realized, and although the physical presence of those deceased will no longer be with us, they do live on in our memories even as we realize an emptiness in their absence.

Whether wishful thinking or a transcendental awareness, after life existence will never disappear as a concept, as widespread religious practice, dependent on such belief, affirms. Even the non-religious must harbor the notion of some sort of post-biological consciousness.

In any case, a healthy perspective will depend on reveling in the wonder of a fleeting daily existence.