Family Style

You can order your meal "family-style" at Dyer's BBQ in Pampa which simply means they bring out big portions for sharing. That might be a comfort or treat for some, but I've never cared for that type of meal service. For me, the comfort of a restaurant meal was having your own personally selected plate of food. The treat was simply eating out. The Cleaver's and Brady's made "family style" look good on TV, but our family dinner table always had its share of landmines and bear traps. Transporting all that to a restaurant for public display never seemed like a good idea. I've always been curious about what kind of people would see the "Family Style" on a restaurant sign and say, "That's the place for us!" Ward and June or Mike and Carol, I assume.

That's probably a little harsh. Big family meals are special occasions, one of my favorite things these days, and though the "Family Style" banner still won't make me flip the turn signal and hit the brakes, I do get it. Family is important. It's foundational. It shapes us in ways we never fully appreciate and in ways that would frighten us if we did. It's probably the "style" part that bothers me more than the "family" part. I have two brothers and four sisters. Though none of us have been to prison and we're all functioning, productive members of society, I think it's safe to say that each of us would have a unique opinion on our particular family's "style."

Part of that has to do with when we grew up and who we did it with. Though it was one big family, it always seemed like three separate sets of kids and parents. Jennifer and Billy had the youngest parents. Loretta and Nelda and I had the middle aged parents. Christina and Neil had the old parents. I don't remember much about growing up with Jennifer and Billy. They were grown and gone by the time I could understand much beyond myself. I'm sure that Christina and Neil felt the same about me, especially Neil. I was 13 when he was born and out of the house before he started school. I've always suspected that I left some damaged and worn out parents in my wake for my younger siblings to deal with, and I'm sure the family style changed as a consequence. I'm also sure all seven of us have a different set of take-aways from our formative years.

Neil, Billy, Jennifer, Loretta, Dexter
Christina, Dad, Mom, Nelda

Once upon a time I wrote a letter and mailed it to my parents and each of my siblings. Whether it was leaving college or Texas for a life of my own, or attempting to make peace over some stressful family situation, I do not recall why I wrote it, but it seemed important at the time. In it I tried to describe what I had learned from each of them, explaining in practical terms what they had done for me, how they had unknowingly shaped my growth, honed my skills, smoothed my path. The point was meant to be that they were all valuable to me and that I appreciated them. Looking back I suspect they all read it and thought "Thanks for including me in your therapy session."

The only specific feedback I recall from that letter was Mom's, and she was not pleased. In the letter I attributed my independence and perseverance to Mom and her comment was something along the lines of "That's it? That's all you learned from me? All my sacrifices, all that I gave you and that's all you got out of it?" At that exact moment my relationship with my mother changed. I knew that the effort and sacrifices she felt she had made for me had worked because I didn't get angry. I wasn't hurt. I knew that the things she taught me were the core of what inner strength I had. She couldn't see it, she didn't recognize it. I knew I had learned her lessons well ... hiding your strengths, deflecting instead of engaging, knowing where you stand before speaking, assessing the environment and choosing the best path before acting. The student had surpassed the teacher. I stopped trying to please my mother and started honoring her for what she had given me instead of lamenting about what she had not.

That too probably sounds harsh. I learned much more from Mom ... an artist's eye, the power of history, the necessity in sacrifice, the existence of God and the community of Christ's church ... but in that specific, memorable moment those skills on how to navigate and survive life were my take-away. Over time, with thanks to family and friends, I began using those seemingly harsh skills in a less defensive and more caring way. My life changed from being just a son, to becoming a spouse, a mate, a father, a friend, a follower. Throughout this constant "becoming" process we choose our path and tactics from the lessons and experiences of our past, but that does not mean we are bound by them. As our family grows beyond mom and dad and brothers and sisters we have the opportunity to see new family styles, new ways of becoming, new ways to use our strengths and shore up our weaknesses.

I love my mother. She made me who I am, a bunch of the good and her share of the bad. She smoothed my path, but that doesn't mean she didn't toss a few boulders along the way. It took me a while but I learned not to pick those up and carry them with me; that it was better to push them out of the way or find another path. Often the alternative paths had already been blazed by my siblings, or my expanding family would show me a different perspective that I had not considered before.

My mother loved me, too. I forgave her long ago for whatever obstacles she may have put in my way when I chose to see them as mistakes instead of malice. I have to see it that way because now I have a son and it's the only way to forgive myself for the many mistakes I've made.

Fundamentally my real problem with the concept of "Family Style" is that it is just too rigid. To me it says, "this is how families eat," and frankly, I don't want to get stuck with eating the plain pinto beans because they are the least objectionable to everyone else when there are jalapeno beans on the menu. I realize there is some comfort and security in sticking with "this is how we do it" and "this is what we always eat," but as much as I enjoy home cooking, I don't go to a restaurant to replicate home. I go to restaurants to see how someone else prepares the meal, to see their menu options, to try something new. I learned that from Mom, too.

30

In the summer of 1982 I moved to Atlanta, Georgia. With all of my worldly belongings (including a live cockatiel but excluding my awesome stereo which I shipped separately via UPS) packed into an all black 1973 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, equipped with a rented U-Haul car topper, I drove all night from Garland, TX to my new apartment on New Bedford Way, inside the loop in Northeast Atlanta. At 5AM I parked the Monte Carlo in a Kroger parking lot near the apartment and slept for a couple of hours, since the leasing office wasn't open yet. The apartment was an affordable, unfurnished one bedroom with green shag carpeting that I had settled on during a quick two day interview/logistics planning trip the month before. The agenda for the day was quite simple. Get the keys. Buy a bed.


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Fortunately, water beds were cheap, at least in comparison to real mattresses, and even though that first night in an unheated water bed was pretty miserable, it still remains one of the better purchase-under-pressure decisions I've ever made. This story, however, is not about the waterbed or bachelor apartments or my first naive experience in corporate America, which had prompted this move. No, strangely enough, this story is about love.

Prior to moving I worked at Kraft Foods in Garland, TX. I started work there in 1981, fresh out of college, as an Accounting Supervisor intern. Not long after starting work at Kraft my boss, Quinn Hunter, decided it would be a good idea to sit me next to someone a little more outgoing. Apparently he thought I was too shy and quiet. Little did he (or me or she!) know, that one day I would marry his outgoing accounting clerk.

Before I moved to Atlanta there was an obligatory going away party, thrown by "the gals" in the office. This was immediately followed by a trip to Pampa, sort of a "I'm moving far away and don't know when I'll get back this way" trip home. By 'immediately' I mean the morning after the going away party. I had arranged for my previously assigned outgoing co-worker to drive me to the airport that morning. She pounded on the door of my apartment at some hour that I was not prepared for and proceeded to wake me up, get me packed and deliver me to the airport in time for my flight. At some point on the trip between the apartment and the airport, despite my massive hangover, the trepidation of a family visit and the uncertainty of my future, I realized that I needed this woman in my life. At the ticket counter, as she was getting my baggage checked and making sure I had my ticket and boarding pass, I asked her to marry me.

Her response, if I recall correctly, was to laugh. Not just a "ha-ha aren't you cute" laugh, or a nervous "are you serious?" laugh, but a grown woman "are you effing kidding me?" laugh. Fortunately, as it turned out, I was in too much physical discomfort to let it seriously discourage me.

So I moved to Atlanta, and my love stayed in Dallas. We spent way too much time on the phone (because in those days, long distance was expensive!) and when I wasn't talking to her on the phone, I was writing letters, the old fashioned kind. Pen. Paper. Envelopes. Stamps. My regular routine would be to come home from work, whip up something cheap and quick to eat, stroll across the street to pick up a six pack of Stroh's if necessary (you couldn't get Coors in Atlanta back then ... see Smokey and the Bandit for reference) and spend the evening doodling and writing letters on a legal pad. Sometimes I would write Eddie, or Linda, or even my Mom, but I always wrote to Cindy, even if I didn't always mail them. The point is there was a lot of time to think, and my thoughts always ended up with her. When she came to visit on Labor Day I asked her to marry me again, and this time, she did not laugh.

I couldn't even guess what I wrote in all those letters, and given the grumpy old bastard I've turned out to be if they ever showed up in public I'd have to deny I wrote them. But whatever I wrote about love and life and a life together in those letters, well, it couldn't be nearly as perfect as the last thirty years have turned out to be.

Today is our 30th wedding anniversary. Wow. Thirty years. I wish I could take credit for it, but thirty year relationships are not an individual accomplishment. I could say "this is the secret" or "don't do this" or "it's all unicorns and puppies and rose petals!" but the truth is that I have no explanation or answer or secret. I love my wife. There's work and fun, pleasure and pain, heartache and joy but there is no explanation, no secret, no formula. We are two individuals who love each other, are committed to each other, respect each other and somehow, in this miraculous, God-created world, we live as one flesh. I do not want to imagine life without her. She is not just my right arm. She is me, we are one. I completely understand how people, who haven't lived life alongside us, can look at us and say "what an odd couple", but then, they haven't been down our path, have they? People who believe in the mystery of love, however, get it. They know.

I could tell you how wonderful my wife is, from taking care of me at the airport to standing beside me when a loved one dies, from forgiving my flaws to encouraging my strengths, from loving my family as her own to growing our "family" beyond the bounds of blood, but I assume you already know she's a saint for marrying and putting up with me. I could tell you a thousand funny, insightful, poignant, meaningful stories about these last thirty years, but I'm sure you have your own. All I can truly say is that I would not be the man I am today without her, and I would not want to be any other man.

Love you more, Cinderella. You up for thirty more?

Let's Be Reasonable

My last post was 6 months ago, but that doesn't mean I haven't been arguing with the proverbial fence post. Most of my political writings have been directed toward commenting on facebook posts, though I realize it's even less productive than this blog. Since the election I've tried to be Switzerland, but sometimes I slip. It happened last week, and yes, it was about gun control. I feel that the "conversation" requires a more extensive comment which would not be well suited to a facebook format, so I'm putting it here.

The Cliff's Notes version of the facebook conversation goes like this:

1. Known conservative and therefore dangerous Oklahoman Shane (who is also known to be armed) posts link to an article regarding Joe Biden's "executive order" comment on gun control options.
2. Shane is condescendingly chided and implied to be over reacting by known liberal and therefore intelligent Californian, DL. Shane graciously ignores the implication.
3. Wild card John posts a link from infamously biased crooksandliars blog attempting to portray gun owners as crazed and angry. John also poo-poos the idea that the administration can do anything on their own.
4. Unreasonable, known trouble maker and erstwhile Texan blogger, Dexter, posts relatively short diatribe attempting to show that yes, the government is quite capable of violating the constitution to serve their own purposes. Another dangerous Oklahoman, too smart to get involved, simply "likes" Dexter's comment.
5. blah, blah, blah ... time goes by
6. DL again scolds and implies that other commenters are ignorant by suggesting they all believe Obama is a tyrant.*
7. Dexter tries to deny he is unreasonable.
8. DL is having none of that and immediately positions himself again as the adult in the room.

If you're interested, the full conversation is below (if you can read the bad screen shot), and after that is my final, extensive, exhaustive and incredibly unreasonable comment on this little, representative slice of facebook political discussion.

Despite what the media portrays as pervasive public outrage over our gun-loving society, DL is absolutely correct. No one is going to propose a ban on all guns. It would be political suicide. Suggesting that a gun ban is the long term goal, however, will get you labeled a nut or worse, even though there is plenty of historical evidence to show that governments like to disarm their citizens. History, of course, doesn't apply to us. It's not just us; any current society is always so much more advanced, intelligent and worldly than their forebears that they need not rely on history, which leads them directly to their destiny ... repeating history.

The politics of gun control are well understood by everyone. What few people understand, or admit, is the intellectual dishonesty of gun control supporters. As Ben Shapiro so ably demonstrated in a debate with Piers Morgan, if the pro gun control crowd was sincerely interested in stopping children from being shot, they would advocate a hand gun ban, not an assault weapon ban. They would own up to their long term goal, the ban on all guns (the one they won't propose). Some might say they are just being smart politicians, but they are truly just cowards, afraid that their idea will lose in any honest debate. They are content to nibble around the edges, putting the camel's nose in the tent, taking that inch like they have on every entitlement, tax, regulation and socially destructive initiative for 100+ years. Of course, that's much easier to do when you take the long view and have no qualms about being dishonest in the present to achieve future goals.

The one critical judgement to make on any politician is this question of intellectual honesty. Do they do what they say? Do they openly articulate principles you agree with, and act on those principles? Are they "a leader doing what supporters asked" or an "ideologue with an agenda?" The difference is easily recognized. One is a leader and the other is a politician. Barack Obama, and the vast majority of our elected "leaders," are politicians, and very few have the intellectual honesty, and the character that supports it, to lead effectively.

A leader would propose the constructive ideas we need. Obama doesn't do that. It's not politically feasible  He farmed out healthcare to Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid, financial reform to Chris Dodd and Barney Frank and now gun control to Joe Biden. He bangs the drum about "asking the wealthiest Americans to pay a little bit more" and then exempts his ultra-wealthy supporters (whose primary income is capital gains) by raising taxes only on income earners. He leverages his faith and church membership until it becomes a political liability and then, poof, it no longer reflects his views. One would think that in order to follow a leader you would have to know what they stand for, but Obama is impossible to pin down. It makes him a good politician, one that presents himself as having character, but demonstrates none. Obviously, you can be elected to lead without character, but you will never lead effectively.

What, exactly, is Barack Obama's position on gun control? In campaigns he says he supports the Second Amendment. In practice his justice department executes Fast & Furious to implicate the gun industry in Mexican drug lord violence to create a gun crisis. ("Never let a crisis go to waste.") He says "I have no intention of taking away folks' guns", but supports local gun bans as in DC, Chicago, NYC which do exactly that. He is dismissive of "bitter clingers," effectively letting people with faith and/or guns know that he considers them ignorant, yet somehow expects** them to accept his leadership on this issue. He voted against every concealed carry law while a State Senator, except the one that allowed retired police officers to carry. Unsurprisingly, he was working on acquiring political support from the Fraternal Order of Police at the time. As always with politicians, getting elected trumps principle.

The gun debate*** that the media and the administration (and DL) are demanding after Newtown is, quite simply, another manufactured crisis for the federal government to insert itself in ... like healthcare, like finance reform, like the unending 'fiscal cliff' and 'debt limit' crises. Obama is not interested in proposing any constructive ideas to stop gun violence in our schools because he knows it won't and can't be solved by a policy or legislation. Obamacare didn't "fix" our healthcare problem ... it simply pushed us in the direction of socialized medicine. Finance reform didn't "fix" the financial markets, it simply gave the government more control. Raising the marginal tax rates solved nothing for either the debt, the deficit or the budget; it only gave the appearance of 'action' and provides the false political cover of "protecting the middle class." An assault weapon ban or other gun control law won't "fix" school shootings ... it will simply push us in the direction of being an unarmed, and therefore vulnerable and dependent, society.

You cannot have a constructive debate on gun policy if one side lies about their position. If we are honest the debate question is, which is better, an armed society or an unarmed one? It really is that simple and we can have that debate. And once gun control nuts**** are honest about that, they should take one more bold step and admit they are fundamentally, irrevocably and principally interested in empowering the state to control the citizen. That is the path of gun control. That is why it is expressly forbidden in the constitution. That is why gun control nuts lie to themselves and everyone else. They cannot accept or admit to the basic truth of the question at hand.

Here's my constructive idea. Require gun training in schools. Take away the ignorance and fear of guns and teach responsibility and respect. Teach them safety. Teach them control. Give them confidence. Undermine victim mentality. Show them the science and engineering involved. Provide another competitive arena, a practical activity, a tangible demonstration of how to be responsible. Teach them the history of guns, their influence on culture and that resonsible use differs from criminal use. Allow them to compare for themselves the un-reality of video games and movies to the true destructive power of weapons. Teach them that actions have consequences. Build a stronger society, not a weaker one.

It seems to me there are only two paths to take ... we either go down the "control" path with bans, restrictions, the shaming of gun owners and the elevation of the state, or we go down the path of "empowerment" where we raise our expectations of others, promote trust and respect of individuals and re-ignite the concept of self reliance in our society. Until we are willing to start the debate there, at the honest and fundamental conflict between the individual and the state that gun control argument represents, there will be no constructive debate. The right is honest about their position. They openly admit that this is about the citizen vs. the state and they are on the side of the citizen. The left (which includes squishy Republicans) can't afford to be honest. It might cost them an election, which they value more than principle.

* For the record, I think he's too stupid and gutless to be a good tyrant.

** That's not quite accurate. He doesn't 'expect' so much as 'demand'.

*** The debate is settled in The Bill of Rights. If you want to debate it your statement should not be  "let's talk about guns," it should be "let's repeal the Second Amendment."

**** have you ever noticed that if you are pro-gun you are a "gun nut," but if you are pro-gun-control you are an "advocate?"

Heretics and Tyranny

History draws me, not because of a "condemned to repeat it" fear but rather out of basic humility. Surely someone at some time has wrestled the questions with which I wrestle and there may be answers, or at least clues, in the past. Unfortunately, the "everybody knows" history we superficially apply to quick opinions is not well suited to important, big questions like "how did we get here?", "where are we going?" and "what do I believe?" Fortunately, we have Ross Douthat and Jonah Goldberg to help out.

I've recently completed Douthat's "Bad Religion: How We Became A Nation Of Heretics" and Goldberg's "The Tyranny of Cliches: How Liberals Cheat in the War of Ideas." (For the record, I didn't even have to slip a Vince Flynn or Terry Pratchett book in between them). I enjoyed both books for the writing, the education and the reflection. They are quite complementary and I recommend them both.

Douthat spends the first half of his book describing the post World War II history of Christianity in the United States. My personal reference points on Christianity began in the late 60's and early 70's when my mother was taking me to the Church of Christ, seemingly, as they say, every time the doors were open. For me, like many, leaving home also meant leaving the church and, predictably, returning to church when I became a father, though this time at a Presbyterian church. Douthat's history rang true for me; it fit with my experience and perceptions and there seemed to be no twists or contrivances to make the history fit a theory or to exaggerate a point.

From that historical foundation, Douthat proceeds to describe four critical steps on the path of American heresy. First, there is an effort to define Jesus in our own terms, converting him from God to human, making him a historical figure under our control. Through definition we confine Jesus to our perceptions and prejudices. We remove the mystery. We own the holiness. Second, there is the effort to redefine the Gospel to something more palatable, more populist. We wouldn't want to make faith too difficult or the potential parishioners too uncomfortable. And, if you want to build a megachurch empire, a 'name it and claim it' prosperity gospel is a market proven winner. Then there is the great god substitute that we all do. It is the idea that we are god, that we can save ourselves, through science, through reason, through 'self actualization' ... whatever that is. If we only had the time and resources to do the 'hard work' of self-discovery, we could answer those big questions, at least for ourselves, which is, of course, the most important thing. Finally, as the natural extension of this self worship, we strive to become god for everyone else, using our faith to justify our politics with the idea that the right policies with the most well-intentioned outcomes will convert the masses if not to our specific faith, then at least to our ideals. Douthat describes two aspects of this urge. Democrats employ the messianic approach ... "our policies will save you!" Republicans use the apocolyptic approach ... "Repent!" Douthat writes, at the conclusion of his explanation:

... There is no single Christian politics, and no movement can claim to have arrived at the perfect marriage of religious faith and political action. Christianity is too otherworldly for that, and the world too fallen.

The intersection of faith and politics has been a frequent, and often gloomy, topic  here. Our church is part of a mainline denomination suffering with declining membership. Our congregation struggles to survive. Both would do well to ponder the big questions like "why are we here?" and "where are we going?" while considering the history and analysis in this book. Finding an answer would require an uncomfortably honest self appraisal and acknowledging that sometimes, when you're on the wrong path, the best thing to do is stop and turn around.

The tricky bit, as they say, is the honest self appraisal. Deluding yourself when defining the problems and premises or obscuring the truth behind your arguments, for whatever reason ... ignorance, laziness, apathy, tradition ...  may not prevent you from finding an answer, but it probably won't be the answer you need. This is where Goldberg comes in. The Tyranny of Cliches is an easy and entertaining read, but underneath the flippancy ( "We are indebted to Napoleon for many things. My personal favorite is canned goods." ) and the attention getting snipes ( "There is a little discussed fact, well established in the social science literature. Young people tend to be stupid." ) Goldberg is dealing with one of the big questions, Honesty.

The subtitle, "How Liberals Cheat in the War of Ideas," lets you know that the point is to expose the dishonesty of leftist politics, but don't make the mistake of categorizing this book as simply an attack on liberals. This is not a response to Al Franken. It's really dealing with the bigger questions of the premises behind and the arguments supporting the modern liberal, progressive agenda. It's not "your policies suck and you lied about them anyway," it's more like Vizzini and Inigo in "The Princess Bride" ...

Vizzini: HE DIDN'T FALL? INCONCEIVABLE.
Inigo Montoya: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

... though Goldberg goes on to explain what the words mean, and more importantly, how the (intentional?) misrepresentation of meaning props up their arguments. When the cheating lies are exposed, you begin to see how easy it is to mislead in the marketplace of ideas. The "Let Them Eat Cake" chapter is especially eye-opening. It's INCONCEIVABLE that Marie Antoinette wasn't being an aristocratic elitist with the 'eat cake' comment ... or is it?

Golberg entertainingly explains the amorphous concept of social justice, the smug superiority of the spiritual-but-not-religious, the underlying push to conformity in the name of 'Diversity!' and many other liberal bumper stickerisms. But don't slot this book in the 817's because what he's really doing is undermining every major liberal "everybody knows" argument supporting their ideas. In the process he is also giving us pause to think about big questions like "how did we get here?" and "what do I believe?"

Stylistically these books couldn't be more different. Where Douthat slowly builds from history to a reasonable interpretation to a calm analysis, Goldberg has a brief introduction and then wades right in like it's Han Solo and Greedo at the cantina. Douthat makes you want to get on your knees and pray for divine guidance. Goldberg makes you want to bitch slap some unthinking, smug liberal with a Maya Angleou anthology in a sock. The point of both books, however, is identical. Honesty. Douthat wants Christians to be honest about their faith, the sacrifices it requires, the otherworldliness of its origin, its application in this world. Goldberg wants honest political debate, a mature, even scientific approach that segregates policies that work from those that are easily sold as good intentions.

We cry about money and influence in politics, about how big "something" is "buying" an election, while most vote based on soundbites and supposition instead of principle. Are they voting honestly? We witness the decay of our religious institutions not because they have no value, but because we cheapen them and make faith (or the more culturally hip lack thereof) a checkbox on our Facebook profile. Ninety percent of Americans say they believe in God. Only twenty percent go to church on Sunday. Do you think the missing seventy percent are at the synagogue and mosque? Honesty, in faith or politics, is required to find the answers to the big questions. These two books are helpful if you're interested in honestly reconciling your faith with your politics.

Afterburner with Bill Whittle: Follow the Ideology