Being an old, ND male, I do not understand how we got here.
I turned 74 in July. I was raised in a secular, Republican, household. Both of my parents worked. Dad was an accountant; Mom was his bookkeeper and someone to yell at. The last phrase is unkind. Dad yelled a lot. I grew up not wanting to copy that. When my wife and I started having children, yelling came too easily. It is the same with our grandchildren, which I normally see once a week. I have difficulty with brats of all ages. The previous sentence is unkind.
I was raised in an environment heavily filled with the American Legion. I vaguely remember sleeping on steel folding chairs at the back of the Hall. The number of chairs increased as I grew. At my Mom’s memorial at our church of that time, I kept encountering three groups of people: those she knew at the church, those she had known in the Legion groups [including the VA Hospital], and those in the Lions’ club. It was sort of like traveling through time…
I stopped doing church during the Convicted Felon’s first term. I had known that it was a Republican congregation. I had one friend who thought the way I do. One was enough. Until the early days of MAGA.
We occasionally attend a Lutheran church near our middle kid and his family. However, I consider Nadia to be in the role of my pastor.
On the recent death of her father:
“I think it may be one of the last things he taught me: that you can lose your able-bodiedness, your status, your ability to do things you’ve always enjoyed doing, you can lose all the things the world had admired you for– in other words, all the vain things that charm you most –
and still not lose what matters most.”
Nadia Bolz-Weber
I started writing these Chronicles several years ago because I thought I had things to say that had value. Hopefully for more than myself. I have been stuck here at 300 for several weeks. I continually ask myself, ‘how did we get here?’ I knew Senator Ron Wyden in my third year of college. He lived down the hall from me. Being a Grad Student, I did not see him very often. As I prepared to reach my 18th birthday, I realized that I would either get drafted or I would buy a stereo system to take to college. My draft number was over 240. Stereo System. At my second year at Oregon State, I lived in a Freshman dorm because I had fallen victim to a marketing scam. Toward the end of my first year, there was a fire in the dorm across the street. We were told that it would become the best dormitory on campus; totally redesigned. Not so much. New paint, some new carpeting, telephones that would not arrive until the following October.
The height of the Vietnam War. There was a dorm lottery. The one with the lowest draft number would win donated money. Since my Republican parents were paying for my college career, I did not participate in the protests. Maybe. That second year, the Freshman dorm was one of 4 L-shaped dorms grouped in a square, a park in the center. 24-hours per day, protest music played at some room/rooms with open windows. Great acoustics.
No one could fail to understand what was happening on campus. The American Legion Convention was scheduled to occur in Portland. Oregon’s Governor decided to throw a Woodstock-inspired concert outside of Portland. Portland’s convention was largely peaceful.
Senator Wyden is now in his 70s. Did history skip a generation? The Convicted Felon occupying the White House did not go to Vietnam. Bone spurs. My cousin went to Vietnam and returned, not in a box.
Since I haven’t had much to say in a philosophic sense, this one is different.
A few weeks ago, I had the idea of providing assistance to email users to help avoid falling for a scam. I have set aside illustrations from my junk email; I keep forgetting to file them properly.
From a month ago:
One way to avoid scams:
Check the ‘From’ line in the email
The ‘From’ should match the supposed entity sending the email:
Check the ‘From’ line in the email
The name after the @ should match the name of the sender.
Have I ever been scammed from an email contact? Yes. More than I like to remember.
Another scam:
“I’m a hacker who a few months ago gained access to your device, including your browser history and webcam.”
The implication is that the reader was involved in embarrassing actions.
- If you have a webcam, does it operate all the time, or does it only operate when you activate it?
- The only time I am on my desktop or laptop is here in my office. I do not use my cellphone as an additional ‘computer’. I use the mobile for short conversations with people I know; and for using the cellphone’s number to send code. I realize that I am a dinosaur, out of touch with communication needs of this age. If someone can steal your information while in a crowd, hide your cellphone. Or anticipate you will be scammed or worse.
- Use virus prevention software. I use iolo System Mechanic in conjunction with Malwarebytes\Anti-Malware.
My wife and I recently celebrated our 50th Anniversary. I have never found dates on a calendar requiring ‘celebration’—however, when Star Trek was first broadcast on September 8, 1966, while I was in high school, I began understanding how my life differed from most of the people I knew: I was actually a Vulcan who had been left on Earth by mistake. Perhaps I was found repellent with my non-pointed ears, and red blood cells. Vulcans are not emotionless; they have powerful emotions that normally are controlled.
In the first of the Chris Pine Star Trek movies, Spock asks his father why he married a human. His father’s reply was that being stationed on Earth, it was only logical that he should marry a human. Near the end of the movie Sarek is more honest. He married a human because he loved her.
I have always found emotions awkward. I no longer carry the fantasy that I was abandoned on Earth. In recent years I have accepted the fact that I am Neurodivergent. On top of which is a progressive, degenerative, neurological disorder of unknown origin. Sort of like Parkinson‘s, but it isn’t Parkinson’s. I do not believe the two statements are connected except by coinciding.
For years I told my children, “Life is Hard. Then you die.” [While You Were Sleeping]
All three of my children are experiencing the Hard part. Fortunately, not the other part. This life of mine continues to do the Hard part, worsening over time. And yet I believe in Grace. The definition of the word is, “unmerited favor”. The events of our life happen; the good parts are a gift. Perhaps the bad stuff as well. I learn more about myself during the hard parts. I don’t always like the results.
We were driving today, erranding. We past a building that was flying an American Flag at half-staff. When we got home I looked for an answer to ‘who died?’
Dolly Parton
Truly a Grace Gift to the world
