I was researching information for a blog post, and got sidetracked by something that I read on Twitter.

There’s only one of me.  How many of you are there?

HowManyOfMe.com

There are 1 or fewer people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

We’ve all seen the guys wandering the beach or the street with numerous birds hanging off of them.  A parrot on the shoulder, another one on the arm, and still another one hanging off some piece of equipment.  They’ll pose with you for a small fee.

Unless you’re really drunk, or really need a photo to commemorate your vacation, just say “no thanks” and keep on walking.

This past week, while attending the opening night Pow-Wow party, they had parrots galore to pose with us – and for no charge.  So I seized the moment.

Occasionally, everyone needs a parrot on their shoulder.

The power of music to make us stop and take a look at the world around us.  We’re more alike than we are different, and we have more in common than separates us.

This is Socrates.  I also call him Socks.  He was born on December 31st, 2008, and came to live with me in late February. 

The decision to get him wasn’t an easy one.  I had lost a dear pet who had called my home “his” for about 16 years.  You can never replace a pet, but after some grieving time, you realized that your heart can expand a little bit more to include someone new.  Besides, Misha (the other 4-legged household resident) was starting to get a little cranky without a playmate.

So Socks arrived.  And he crept into my life, my heart, and even my bed. 

I don’t usually blog about my pets, but I just sort of felt the urge.  I came home after a trip, and this little guy curled up in my lap and spent the afternoon purring.  If I got up, he’s wait patiently for my return and then pick his spot once again.

Life is good, and my world a better place, because of the adorable little 4-footed friend.  It’s also hard to get writer’s block when you’ve got someone purring you on to creativity.

Anyone else blog with their pets?

Photo:  personal collection

I read the book The Reader LONG before a movie was in the making. 

CAUTION:  Spoiler Alert.  If you haven’t seen the movie or read the book, you may not want to know the details I’m going to talk about.  Just click away!

I remember being shocked when I found out, at the same time Michael did, that Hanna was illiterate.  She had done unspeakable things in the Nazi camps, but the shame of her illiteracy was far greater than the shame for her participation in the killing of Jews.

Shame is a theme that permeates the entire movie, and it shapes the choices the characters make.

Hanna has shame that she cannot read, and goes to great length to conceal it.  She winds up works for the SS because she quits a job rather than take a promotion and be ashamed when illiteracy is discovered.  She “admits” to planning a strategy to exterminate Jews in the concentration camps,rather than providing a writing sample and being subjected to the shame of illiteracy.  And finally, it is true shame, for her behavior in the camps, that leads her to suicide.

Michael also has his share of shame, beginning with his affair with Hanna at the age of 15.  He then experiences shame that he knows a Nazi war criminal, shame at the things she did in the camp, and finally shame that she seems to feel little remorse for her actions.  His shame (that he did not intervene and provide information that would have helped her at trial) is assuaged by his reading and send her tapes of books.  He feels less like he has abandoned her this way.  After Hanna’s suicide, his shame is greater as he realizes how much more he could have done for her.

Any therapist worth their salt would tell clients that shame is a negative and unhealthy emotion to operate with.  It is insidious in its destruction, and little good can ever come of it.  If you had any doubt of that principle, this movie drives it home.

I think most people have had bouts with shame, to some degree or another.  Far better to come to terms with our actions and process them, than to live with a shame death sentence hanging over us.

Let’s all leave shame behind us.

Photo credit:  Amazon

I’m still catching up on movies from this past Academy Award season, and most recently I watches Doubt, starring Meryl Streep, Phillip Seymour Hoffman, and Amy Adams.

The story is set in 1964, at a Catholic school that has accepted it first African-American student.  This young boy serves as an altar boy to the friendly, and religiously progressive, Father Flynn. 

After noticing that Father Flynn appears to be paying a great deal of attention to the boy, young Sister James mentions it to the tough-as-nails school principal, Sister Aloysius.  If you were raised Catholic during this time frame, you probably knew a version of Sister Aloysius.

Seeing the circumstances as an opportunity to push Father Flynn out of the parish and school, sister Aloysius sets out to destroy the priest.  Is her zeal justified as she fights fiercely to protect a student, or is she blinded to the truth by her refusal to change as the world changes around her?

Ultimately the viewer is left to wrestle with that question, and to decide which interpretation is beyond doubt.

What do you think?  Who do you believe, and why?  Do you have any doubts?

Photo credit:  Amazon

I just finished watching Slumdog Millionaire.  This was one of those movies that was both compelling and painful to watch. 

With all the awards that the movie received, I knew a little bit about what to expect.  Still, seeing the slums of Mumbai, even in a movie, is pretty depressing.  I haven’t yet decided if the movie filled me with despair or with hope, and it’s probably going to take awhile to sort that out in my mind.

I can see why it won Best Picture!

We are a nation of laws, and we honor contracts.

Yep, sure.  Most of the times.  And that appears to be the sole argument over why something hasn’t been done to prohibit or have returned the obscene sum of moneys given out to leaders of a miserably failing company.

That argument just doesn’t hold weight with me.

What about those private contracts for airline employees?  In bailing out that industry the government had no problem setting up a pension board that stripped money from retirees.  If that’s not re-writing a contract, what is?  Oh wait – that’s because the airline said that needed to do that to stay afloat.  Right. . . .

Well, what about when a individual files for bankruptcy protection?  Re-negotiation of contracts occurs, and sometimes, depending on timing and circumstances, contracts are declared voidable.  Isn’t that, in essence, a re-writing of the contract?

Why is it that the only contracts that can’t be re-written, or someone found voidable, are those in this failing financial industry.

I’m not an economist by any means, but it seems like all businesses and individuals in bail out or bankruptcy situations should have to face the same music.  And that means contracts are going to be scrutinized, and possible voided.

Why are we accepting anything less?

Photo:  SXC

There was a time in my life when I had never been to a funeral.  I knew what death was all about, but I’d only had to face it in the abstract.

First there was the period where it was my grandparent’s, then parent’s, generation that was the cause of all the funerals.  It was sad, often tragic, but it was a part of the understandable circle of life.  People get old and then die.  It’s the way things are supposed to work.

Then one day, death hit my generation.

All of a sudden it wasn’t about distant relatives or “old” people.  Death struck people I knew.  People that were only a few years older than me, and on some occasions, even younger.  It wasn’t right, and it wasn’t fair.  Death sucks!

I’m grieving right now for a friend who had a massive heart attack and left us suddenly.  He leaves behind a wonderfully charming and beautiful wife, along with a son and grandchild.  His sudden passing leaves a hole in a circle of friends that will never be quite the same again.

Unfortunately, I’m going to need to travel this path again – and I fear it will be in the near future.  Death has met my generation, and is apparently making really good friends with it.  No matter how I try, I can only keep it away temporarily.

I’m trying to be strong, to be a good friend, to be supportive, and to keep memories in a happy heart.  But death really sucks!

Image credit:  SXC

I’m currently reading Three Cups of Tea: One Man’s Mission to Promote Peace . . . One School at a Time, the story of Greg Mortenson’s unsuccessful attempt to climb K2, the world’s second tallest mountain.

Mortenson’s story reinforces my belief that out of every failure can come a success, and is part travel book and part inspirational story.

As he was finishing his unsuccessful attempt at K2, Mortenson fell quite ill, and was sheltered and cared for in Korphe, a small and rather primitive village in Pakistan.  After he recovered, he promised to return and build a school for the village.  The story of the struggles to make the school a reality is a fascinating story of life, politics, culture, and the personal stories of the people in rural Pakistan and Afghanistan.

The title of the book is based on a Baltistan proverb:

The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger.  The second time, you are an honored guest.  The third time you become family.

The school project has evolved into a foundation called the Central Asia Institute, responsible for 50 additional schools in the area. I’m only about half way through the book, and the first school hasn’t yet been built, so I’m looking forward to seeing how the story goes from here to there.

It’s a great read, and you can find it on Amazon in hardback, paperback, and in a Kindle edition.

Image credit:  Amazon