Thoughts along the way...

Author: Eric (Page 1 of 5)

271 Words

Eight score and a pair of years ago today, in the midst of a bloody civil war, our nation dedicated a national cemetery on the grounds where the Battle of Gettysburg took place a few months earlier. It was a cool autumn day, and in attendance was the President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. 

But Lincoln was not the main orator for the event; that honor was accorded to Edward Everett, who prepared a 13,607 word address that lasted two hours. When he was done, Lincoln rose to make some concluding remarks. 

He spoke for about two minutes; he used only 271 words. Everett afterward said, “I should be glad, if I could flatter myself that I came as near to the central idea of the occasion, in two hours, as you did in two minutes.”

As much as he was honoring the dead of Gettysburg, Lincoln was speaking to the future of our nation. Once again, we find ourselves engaged in a great civil war of sorts, testing whether this nation, conceived and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal, can long endure. Lincoln said:

The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

We find ourselves at a strange juncture; our Union is at arguably the greatest risk it’s seen since Lincoln’s time. We’re not fighting in open fields with canon, cavalry, muskets and bayonets, which makes these far more insidious circumstances. Without the physical carnage of bloody bodies, it is not as easy to see the attacks made upon our rule of law by the folks in control, who, in terrible irony, refer to their caucus as the party of Lincoln.

It is for us to honor all who gave the last full measure of devotion that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom.

Amen

Independence Day

My father’s parents were born in what was considered part of Russia; in their youth they saw the independent nation of Latvia come into being on this date in 1918. 

Sadly, the revolution that led to independent status of a number of territories, including the Baltic states of Latvia, Lithuania, and Estonia, gave way to a more evil empire, with whom we were allies in the second world war, during which time the independence of these states was stripped away. My father’s family fled from the oppression as refugees, with a harrowing flight into Germany to get to the other allied lines before the Soviet tanks claimed territory, and prisoners, en route to Berlin. (Spoiler alert: they made it…)

Occupied Latvia was given its own Soviet Socialist Republic in 1944 (You’re one of us now. You’re welcome. Good luck finding food.) but in 1987, as perestroika took hold under Gorbachev, the thaw began. After the fall of the Berlin wall, things accelerated, and by August, 1991, after a few years of de facto semi-independence, Latvia again achieved full, autonomous independence as a nation, which has lasted now longer than the first time.

In response to the question at the end of the Constitutional Convention in 1787, “Well, Doctor, what have we got, a republic or a monarchy?” Ben Franklin was said to have replied, “A republic, if you can keep it.” Little Latvia, along with its Baltic sister states, and especially Ukraine, stand in testament to that sentiment. Despite the depredations of authoritarians, beginning with Stalin, who lied and broke their promises, the spirit and light of independence in a people is difficult to extinguish.

All the same, it’s better to keep it lit all along, rather than let it grow dim or expire.

Oh, to be young again…

Yeah, I know – it’s been waaaaay too long. To many things happening too fast to be able to take the time and create meaningful content for my dear readers. So I’ll take a cheap shortcut to a thousand word essay about the latest thing to happen in our lives: meet (Cosmic) Charlie.

Head-on, looking up from ground level, wide-angle portrait of a happy puppy with a toy in her mouth.

Not sure who’s rescued whom. This six-month pile of puppy energy has turned the household topsy-turvy, from toys to timing. First up, last to bed, and in need of lots of attention, especially tug-of-war attention.

As to who’s doing the rescuing, it’s been fascinating, and rewarding, to see our older pooch, who has been almost the opposite as far as energy and play, slowly coming out of her lethargy and doing things because Charlie’s doing it.

This will have to do for now. More to come…sooner, I promise!

(Here are the two of them pondering damage to a garden stake:)

Two dongs playing on the grass with a garden stake.

It’s a small step, but if everyone takes it…

Back in 2013 I joined a website then called “twitter.” I was not an early adopter (I rarely am) but I new I would be traveling and many of the folks with whom I wanted to be in touch were almost exclusively (anti)social-media-only communicators.

Folks I knew had fancy-schmancy pocket computers from Apple and Samsung that had built-in cellular telephone capabilities, but never used them as phones. Their mode was all-text, all-the time. Preferably on one of the two major (anti)social media sites: Facething or the Twits.

Some time ago I left the former, as it was simply, too much. I was never too much of a user of the latter site, for which I kept my account alive primarily to be able to access posts of others – some can only be seen from within that particular sphere. In the intervening years the site was purchased by a very wealthy megalomaniac and transformed into the service of another, far less wealthy megalomaniac, arguably playing a role in getting the latter re-elected to the highest office in the land.

My account counts. Not much, but it’s a tick on the grand tally of accounts that allows the owner to say: “I’ve got so many accounts…”

So many minus one now, Bub. The flood of lies, disinformation, and misinformation that are the “X” content stream are not something I can in good conscience be a part of – even a passive one. So I am leaving, deactivating my account, and turning my back. I shall no longer be counted as one of the millions that make the site whatever the hell it has become.

It’s a small step, but if every like-minded person (and there are tens of millions of us out there, based on the Nov. 5 tallies) took the same small step, the collective leap would be impressive.

Meanwhile, it’s been a rough week. There is still a giant media channel to which I remain a member, and it is through them I can offer this needed distraction:

And if you like that, there’s more!

And for those looking for wallpaper, you can catch the boats in Portsmouth harbor here:

Peace – Eric

Despair is easy.

I’ve been quiet lately, as there has been plenty of noise this past several years of an election season. Today we have a pretty good idea of the results, and the landscape to follow, and, naturally, I have a few cents to offer.

You know the old saw: if it was easy, everyone would be doing it. Well, despair is easy, and after the election might feel quite natural. And as we go through this day, the next few weeks, and even years, that old saw will be proven right.

It is also easy to feel betrayed, swindled, let down, and any number of negative thoughts about current events and that, too, is natural.

What is not easy is hope. If the last year, or four, or decade(s) even, have been difficult, let me ask you this: was there still hope yesterday?

I went to bed Tuesday night clueless. Didn’t open the news sites, turn on the radio, watch TV – in fact, I fell asleep to Monty Python’s Flying Circus season 1 episode 8, Full Frontal Nudity. That’s the episode with the dead parrot sketch.

Wednesday morning, I woke up hopeful. Of course, those immediate hopes were dashed to the rocks quickly by the mellifluous tones from NPR’s voices. Perhaps I thought holding off, ripping the Band-Aid® as it were, would be better than 8 years ago. I’m not sure, but I think it was. I got a good night’s sleep, which meant that, as soon as my hopes were dashed, they started stirring again in my rested soul.

According to early results from our Secretary of State’s office, there were 3,077,779 registered voters in my state for the election, and as of Wednesday,  2,137,613 returned ballots. That’s a 69.4% turnout for the state. Not bad – not historically great, but not bad. That might go up a bit with postmarked ballots.

But locally? My own County has 62,063 voters and as of yesterday returned 49,970 ballots. That’s an 80.5% rate of participation (so far).

We did our job locally.

Hope requires something in which to grow, and I shall start there. I feel lucky to be where we live, in a community that, generally, steps up. The rest of the nation is a bitter pill to swallow, but we live here, and we have proven we can – at least – take care of our own. It might not be much, but it is something.

From here in my town, I know my state rep – the outgoing one, who will be our new state AG, and our incoming one, a friend since our kids were together in Kindergarten. I know our state Senator. Even on our city council, I know folks. We take care of ourselves locally, and if that’s all we can do, then at least we are doing what we can.

Which gives me hope.

Hope is hard, but it’s still better than the easy option.

Knights win

Knotted at three apiece going into the bottom of the 7th, two runs after the stretch gave the Knights all the edge they needed, along with a 1-2-3 8th and solid D in the 9th.

Sitting next to the field in my boss’ seats was almost like running low 3rd back in the olden times with crank zooms. Either way, no matter where you sit, it keeps proving to be true: never a bad day/night at the ballpark…

Under the lights and a darkening sky over Goss Stadium at Coleman Field, the Knights pitcher delivers the penultimate pitch in the July 26 5-3 win over the Pickles.

(Thanks, Brendan!)

A lovely sign

Yesterday I got some bad news, which led me to take a walk. Talking to the pooch on walks is a great way to process things. We really should walk more – she’s a great listener.

At any rate, it was a perfect day for a walk. Sunshine, cool temperature, and the blooms… We’re past peak for some things, but coming in to my favorites. And just in the last few days, they popped.

It was a special treat to see these in the neighborhoods…a taste scent from home.

Going Metric

After another 584,058,562 miles, it occurs to me the numbers would look less impressive if I go metric. So, now, with another 939,951,143.17 kilometers under the belt, it’s only a cumulative 54,517,407,850 km. Compared to last year at this time, the number is smaller, even if the distance is the same.

Here we go again…

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