Tag Archives: Rambling Ruminations

The Profundity of Two Words

17 Nov

We were having dinner when my stepdaughter, out of nowhere, said something that I thought of as profound and true. It was only two words, but it was something that I agreed with. We went on to discuss why she said it and delved deeper into the issue.

What were those two words?

Mortality sucks.

It has been said many different ways.

The only guarantees in life are death and taxes.

None of us are getting out of this alive.

Those are cute ways of saying that each of us will eventually face our demise. We are all different, but that similarity unites everyone. It is nature. It is how the world works. However, that does not mean we have to like it.

I am not one of those people who thinks about death. In fact, it hardly ever enters my mind. However, it is my job to talk about it. As a historian, I talk mostly about people who are no longer alive. From presidents to prostitutes, they are all part of the story, but they are also all part of the past. Their time has come and gone, and they have gone with it.

There are times when I think of the people I talk about and wonder what they would think about the world that has come after them. What would Thomas Jefferson think about the country that started with his Declaration of Independence?Thomas Jefferson

What would the woman who lived in Lebanon, Tennessee in 1842 think about her descendants? Did her family turn out like she hoped it would?

In my mind, that is one of the worst things about death. We miss out on all of the stuff that happens after. I want to see as much of the future as possible. I want to know what technologies will be invented.  I want to know who all the presidents will be. I want to know who is going to win all of the Super Bowls. However, it will be impossible because mortality exists, and mortality sucks.

There is something else about mortality that I find interesting. Our religions tell us that there is something better in the afterlife. It is a paradise where no troubles exist. This imperfect world will be replaced with a perfect one.

What is interesting about that? No matter how much we believe about the wonders of the afterlife, we fight like crazy not to get there. Exercise. Medicine. Healthy food. We have created all kinds of ways to prolong life in this imperfect world and not have to go to that perfect world.

I am not sure where this post is heading, but here are some things that I think.

I think Thomas Jefferson wanted to know what happened with this experiment that he and the other founders put into motion.

I think people of the past wondered what the future would look like.

I think we wonder the same thing.

I think we come up with ways to prolong life because we want to be part of the story for as long as possible.

I think the world of the future will be better than the world of the past.

I think mortality sucks.

 

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About Time

11 Nov

A few posts ago, I mentioned that this semester has flown by. My timing has been completely off, and it will be difficult to cover everything that I need to go over. One of my colleagues said that he is facing the same thing. It is as if the semester has been shorten. He also thought that previous semesters may have been longer, and this semester is the way it is supposed to be.

On top of all that, I saw Interstellar and its time warping plot. I will not spoil it for anyone, but it made me wish that I could slow down time. At least, I could get caught up on my lectures.

Between the feeling that time is flying and the viewing of the movie, time has been on my mind. Obviously that led me to all of the things that are related to time. You know, things like TIME magazine. Heck, it has time written all over it. Then, there is the Allman Brothers song, “Ain’t Wastin’ No More Time”. Better than that, who could forget the Isaac Hayes rendition of “By the Time I Get to Phoenix”? It is only 18 minutes long.

In the movie world, there is Fast Times at Ridgemont High with Phoebe Cates sending every young male into a testosterone-fueled frenzy.Phoebe

Fast times. Man, that is the truth. I always heard that time goes by faster as you get older. I did not believe it, but I should have.

Maybe I could become a time bandit. You remember that movie, right? Time Bandits hit the screens the year before Phoebe Cates hit the hearts of all those young males. It starred Sean Connery, who was still trying to get away from his James Bond persona. Time finally allowed him to escape the clutches of 007.

It is a good thing that Charles Bronson was not after him because no one could escape the Man With the Harmonica in Once Upon a Time in the West. I wrote a post about Henry Fonda playing one of the baddest dudes in movie history, but he could not escape Bronson any better than the other people in that movie.Fonda

Of course, if you want to get serious about time, then you should read A Brief History of Time by Stephen Hawking. Doctors once told him that his time was running out due to ALS. He fooled them.

Before I fool myself by thinking that something can be done to slow down time, I am going to stop writing and figure out how I am going to get all of this history covered before time runs out on the semester. Yep, “I Ain’t Wastin’ No More Time.”

 

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The Problem With Big Ass Vehicles

7 Nov

There used to be a television commercial about a guy who wanted to be a truck driver. When he asked for a job, the guy in charge pointed at a map and said that he had no doubt the new guy could drive from here to there. Then, he pointed outside and asked if he could get that truck from there to here. Simply, could the new guy back that truck into a tight space.

I cannot remember what product the commercial was trying to sell, but I think about that whenever I see a big ass vehicle that is terribly parked. When I say big ass vehicle, I am talking about this.Truck Park

And, I am talking about this.SUV 2

Many times, I have said that people should have to prove that they can part a big ass vehicle before they are allowed to drive it, and I am not kidding. It is ridiculous to drive something that you do not have the skill to park. However, that is not my only problem with big ass vehicles. I really do not see the point in their existence.

Let us first examine the super-sized pickup trucks. I have heard that some people need them for their jobs, and I am sure that is true. There are people who have to pull trailers and haul stuff. When I see someone using a truck for work, I think to myself, “Man, they really need a truck for work.”

However, I see a lot of these big ass vehicles that are not being used for anything except to make a spectacle. The engines are made to be as loud as possible. The headlights could light up a football field. Smoke is coming out of the pipes. Metallic testicles are hanging from the trailer hitch. It makes me wonder if the metal ones are making up for the lack of real ones.

Then, there are the extra long SUV’s. I have heard that these are needed to haul around kids and the stuff that comes with hauling around kids, and I am sure that is true. After all, kids, their friends, and all of their stuff take up a lot of room. However, people were hauling kids around town before these things were introduced onto the roads. On top of that, I see a lot of them rolling through town with only one person in them, and that person looks like their kids are long gone.

I think many of these big ass vehicles are meant to be symbols of success. Look at me, I drive an expensive SUV. Look at me, I live on a golf course. Look at me, I am somebody.

This is a free country, and people can drive whatever they want. I just have one piece of advice. Do not drive a vehicle because it makes you look tough. Do not drive a vehicle because it makes you look successful. Drive a vehicle that you can actually handle. If you can handle a big ass vehicle, then more power to you. Go for it. I just think that many people currently driving them cannot do it. Heck, George Patton basically invented tank warfare, and I am not sure he could park one them.

Oh, there is one more thing about George Patton. He was a tough bastard and was the wealthiest officer in the United States Army. I bet he did not need a big ass vehicle to prove either one.

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The Great Shirt Debate

3 Nov

During America’s Industrial Revolution, various industries became proficient in producing whatever it was they were trying to produce. In fact, they became good enough at producing that they were at the point where they could produce more than the market could consume. Of course, the ability to produce more was a waste if consumers could not purchase at the same rate of growth. This condition was no way to maximize profits. If there was something the industrialists loved more than anything, then it was maximizing profits.

Into this situation walked someone who had a grand idea about how to increase production and convince consumers to increase their purchasing. The idea was called product diversification. When I talk about the Industrial Revolution in class, I use flour mills as examples. I am not sure where they fit into the Industrial Revolution, but it is easy.Flour

In the old days, people went to the store and bought bags of flour. When they got home, the flour would be used to make cakes, cookies, biscuits, pies and all sorts of delicious things. Knowing that their product was used for various things, the leaders of the flour industry diversified. When consumers went to the store, they saw bags of flour. However, they also saw bags of cake mix, cookie mix, biscuit mix, pie mix and all sort of delicious things.

I can see the consumer walking down the aisle. I need flour. Wait, I want to make cookies. I had better get some cookie mix. Hold on, there is the cake mix, I had better get that, too. Oh yeah, I need to make that pie. Instead of purchasing one bag, the consumer purchases several bags. Therein lies the trick of product diversification.

All of this came to mind while my wife and I were shopping for clothes. I needed some new stuff, and today was a good day to get it done. We walked into a store, and I found a shirt that I liked. The resulting conversation went something like this.

“I like this shirt.”

“That’s a summer shirt.”

“Ok.”

“You can’t buy a summer shirt.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not summer.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“You can’t buy it because you can’t wear it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not summer.”

“We will have another summer. It’s not like we have seen the last one. Besides, why can’t I wear the shirt anytime I want?”

I stopped because I could tell that she was getting upset, but I still did not understand why I could not buy a shirt and wear it whenever I wanted. Then, it hit me.

Product diversification.

Decades ago, someone in Paris or New York came up with a brilliant idea to increase sales. I cannot remember the last time I listened to what someone in Paris or New York had to say, but that is not the point. The point is that the idea has sunk in. It went something like this.

What if we convince people that they need to wear different shirts for every season. Then, our sales will increase every three months. At some point, this will become the style, and people will be afraid to break it because of peer pressure. If they wear the wrong thing, then other people will think they are not out of fashion.

Now, we have summer shirts, winter shirts, spring shirts and fall shirts. Product diversification was an art form. Then, it became fashionable.

 

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Blue Chair Bonanza

31 Oct

For a long time, a set of blue chairs has been sitting outside of my office. They look a little worse for ware, but they have become a fixture in this part of the building. They have become a gathering place for students waiting for class; for faculty looking for a place to meet outside of their offices; for History majors to sit around and complain about the books that we assign to them. In fact, the History Department, both students and faculty, have come to think that the chairs are our territory.image-17

One semester, we returned to school to find the blue chairs missing. I sent our students on a mission to find them and return them to their rightful place. How dare someone attempt to redecorate without consulting us. It too a few days, but the chairs found their way back.

Since the chairs are outside of my office, I get the full effect. As students filter through, they have all spent time in the chairs. They have gone on to different paths, but they all have one thing in common. The blue chairs. Our current students sit in the chairs and talk about all kinds of things, and they do not realize that there have been generations of students before them who have sat in those same chairs and talked about the same things.

From my office, I have heard enough information to fill volumes. Relationships. Parties. What happened last night. Complaints about teachers. Complaints about me. The list goes on and on. However, I recently heard a conversation that shocked me. I sat stunned as the conversation progressed. Are they really talking about that? Did I hear what I thought I heard? I stopped what I was doing to make sure my ears were not playing tricks on me.

I have heard things from the blue chairs that would make your ears bleed, but, until this week, I was never this surprised.

Our students were talking about Bonanza. Yep, they were talking about Ben, Little Joe and Hoss. Heck, they were even talking about Adam, who left the show in its early days. They had the entire Cartwright gang pegged. On top of that, it was not that they had heard the name of the show and the characters in some far off conversation with their grandparents. They knew that each son had a different mother. They also thought Little Joe was cute.

As a person who specializes in the history of the American West and a mental collector of trivial popular culture, I could not have been prouder. Our students are going into the world with the knowledge that they need. I know that people worry about the time when the younger generation will take over. There is no need to worry. The world is in good hands, and the Cartwright’s will live on for another generation.

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Saturday Morning Ramble

25 Oct

I was going to write about our trip to Hilton Head, but, frankly, I am not ready to write about that. The post needs to be as fun as the trip, and that feeling is still working its way through my mind.

Everyone has left the house, which means that the only sounds are the keys of the laptop and the neighbor cutting the grass. Most of the lights are off, which means all of the light is filtering through the windows. My desk is a disaster, which means that I need to, once again, straighten it up. It is amazing how much stuff can collect on top of desk.

One of the things that cannot get thrown away is an answer sheet for an assignment that I assigned. It will be coming back to me in a few days, and the trusty purple pen will be put back to work. It was put to great use when we returned from Hilton Head. As soon as we got home, I was heading to campus to grab a stack of tests.

Speaking of tests, my nephew is taking the SAT this morning. I am certain that he will do well, but it must be tense to take a test that higher academics takes that seriously. When I was in school, it was not that big of a deal. They told us that we would be taking a test in a couple of weeks. When the day arrived, the put us in the cafeteria and let us work. It turned out that we were taking the ACT.

These days, kids are put into courses to prepare them for the test, and they also take it several times. My stepdaughter is taking it in December, and she is in the seventh grade. I know that we must have some measurement for college acceptance, but, to me, this seems to be a lot of stress at a young age. They will have enough stress in their lives. Do they really need this?Stress

Speaking of stress, I will have plenty of the self-made kind by the end of the day. In a few hours, we are driving to Knoxville to watch the University of Tennessee play football against the University of Alabama. I have already written about this rivalry, but, honestly, it is not much of a rivalry at this time. My team, Tennessee, is going through one of the worst times in its history. Alabama is going through one of its best. That does not make for a good game or a good rivalry. It may be crazy, but watching my team struggle stresses me out. However, it is not just me. I know a lot of people who cannot wait for better days.

Writing about stress makes me think about our trip to Hilton Head, a time of relaxation. Now that I am getting the inspiration to write about that, the next post will be about our South Carolina adventures.

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The Future Preacher and the Bomb Threat

15 Oct

This weekend, we went to a wedding, and, as we made our way through the celebration, a blog post worked its way through my mind. It was about how women love weddings and get excited about every aspect of them, but men would just as soon be somewhere else. It was going to continue with the idea that weddings are to women like football games are to men.

For example, I have never understood why someone would get married in the Fall because it is in the middle of football season. Even if it is on a weekend when your team is not playing, your team might be playing on a future anniversary. Why cause that future conflict when there are tons of other weekends to get married on?

When I say that, my wife looks at me like I am insane. How can anyone place a football game over a wedding? It is because women and men view things differently. Football only takes place on certain dates at a certain time of year. People can get married on any day.

Anyway, I decided not to write that post because it would probably be stereotypical, sexist, not funny and argument-inducing. Instead, I am going to write about the preacher at the wedding.

The preacher and I went to high school together, and, although he was a class or two behind me, we worked in the principal’s office together. During our free period, we hung out in the office to answer the phone, run errands and do whatever else needed doing.

One afternoon, the office was packed with people. Parents were there to get kids out of school. Students were there because they had gotten sent to the principal’s office for getting in trouble. The phone was ringing off the hook. The future preacher was working the counter, and I was answering the phone. That is when I heard a voice say:

Bomb threat.

What did you say?

Bomb threat.

Then, he hung up.Bomb

There was a protocol when something like this happened. First, we were not supposed to say anything in front of other people. That is especially true when there is an office full of them. Second, we are supposed to immediately tell the principal. However, there was a problem. The principal was in a high level meeting with his assistants and members of the school board. One assistant principal, who in another life would have been an evil witch queen, made it clear that they were not to be interrupted. This was my chance to interrupt them.

I went to the office and knocked on the door before opening it. The assistant principal glared at me and asked:

What are you doing in here?

I ignored her and spoke straight to the principal. I explained that there had been a bomb threat. He told me to go back out and that he would take care of it. I am certain his plan was to wait until near the end of the class period. That way less class time would be interrupted. This was in the days before bomb threats were deemed all that serious, and it was probably a student playing a prank.

I shut the door and walked back to the main office. That is when I saw the future preacher with the phone in his hand and a shocked look on his face. Before I could stop him, he blurted out:

Bomb threat.

Apparently, the guy called back. Everyone in the office started scurrying around. The parents were freaking out, and the students were joining in.

I just turned around and went back to the meeting. I knocked on the door and opened it. The assistant principal glared at me and asked:

What are you doing here?

I ignored her and spoke straight to the principal. I explained that there had been another call, and everyone in the main office knew about it. He rolled his eyes and got on the loud-speaker. A few minutes later, everyone in the school was walking to the football field.

The story had a happy ending. The school did not blow up. People were able to get out of class for a few minutes. I got the chance to bother the assistant principal. A lot of that was made possible by the future preacher who performed the wedding this weekend. That would be the same wedding that made a lot of women excited. You would have thought it was a football game or something.

 

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The Moon and the Moody Blues

9 Oct

Over the past few nights, the moon has been full and bright to the point that it causes slight shadows. A few times, I have gone out and just looked at it. I took out the trash and spent a few extra moments in the driveway. I also walked onto the deck just to stare at the sky. The moonlight was almost blinding, and, both nights, low clouds floated by to give it that haunted look.

The moon has always fascinated me, and I have often taken time to look at it. Of course, the face is there. However, it is more than that. It is the closest celestial body, and it stands guard over the night. There are times when it makes the night darker and more mysterious. There are times, like the past few nights, when it makes the night lighter and brings clarity to a time of hiding.

Each time I study the moon, the same words make their way through my mind. They are not words that I put together. They are not words from some dusty poetry book. They are words from an album that I first heard a long time ago. The Moody Blues created Days of Future Passed and included the following verses.Moody Blues

The album begins with:

Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight,
Red is gray and yellow white,
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?
Pinprick holes in a colourless sky,
Let insipid figures of light pass by,
The mighty light of ten thousand suns,
Challenges infinity and is soon gone.
Night time, to some a brief interlude,
To others the fear of solitude.
Brave Helios wake up your steeds,
Bring the warmth the countryside needs.

The album closes with:

Breathe deep the gathering gloom,
Watch lights fade from every room.
Bedsitter people look back and lament,
Another day’s useless energy spent.
Impassioned lovers wrestle as one,
Lonely man cries for love and has none.
New mother picks up and suckles her son,
Senior citizens wish they were young.
Cold hearted orb that rules the night,
Removes the colours from our sight.
Red is grey and yellow white.
But we decide which is right.
And which is an illusion?

I am not sure when I first heard the album, but these words have been with me since. There are other poems and songs about the moon, but that full and bright moon always brings these verses from the back of my mind. Like the night, the moon illuminates them and brings them from the hidden recesses of my memory.

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Is There a Place Like Home?

7 Oct

This weekend, we were tailgating with some friends before the Tennessee Titans game, which turned out to be historic for all of the wrong reasons. Anyway, the conversation turned toward moving. One of them said that she would like to move somewhere else, but that her boyfriend would never leave town. My wife, who has lived in different parts of the country, said that she knew when we married that we would live here forever.

I said that I have been lucky enough to have traveled in every state and have spent time in most of the major cities. I love visiting them, but I have never seen anywhere that is a better place to live than right here in my hometown. They both looked at me funny and said that other places have culture, art and different lifestyles. That is when I said that is true, but they are missing one thing. They are not home.Tennessee

I understand that a lot of people have to move for jobs and other reasons. Some people move because they hate where they grew up. Heck, there are people from my graduating class who left the day after the ceremony and have never been back. However, I have always thought it important to have roots and contribute to the place that made us who we are. It is a place of family and old friends. Like I said, it is home.

All that being said, the conversation made me think of an assignment that my therapist had me complete. I had to list ten places, other than here, where I would like to live. I remember most of the list, and I know that it would be slightly different if I did it today. That is why I am going to do it today. If I was going to live somewhere else, then it would be, in no particular order, the following:

Santa Fe, New Mexico

Durango, Colorado

Sonoma, California

Asheville, North Carolina

Maryville, Tennessee

Austin, Texas

Prescott, Arizona

Waialua, Hawaii

What do those places have in common?

I have spent time in each one and thought they were worth more than a visit. They struck me as good places to live. Some of them have rich culture, and others are just good towns.

None of them are huge cities where the buildings block out the sun. They have that small town feel with a little extra thrown in.

They all have great things around them. It would not take long to find a good hike or a another cool place to visit.

Will we ever move? You never know what the future holds. However, if it was going to be one of these places, then it would make the decision somewhat easier.

 

 

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A Rock Star

30 Sep

He lies on the bed as the engines rumble beneath him. The constant noise takes his mind to a place of meditation. It is soothing to his tortured soul, and he knows that it will only last for a few more minutes. That is when he hears a knock at the door.

“It’s time.”

He sits up and feels his head spin from the whiskey and the pills. Hands rub his eyes, and he thinks to himself,

“Didn’t I do this last night?”

He lifts himself and walks to the mirror. His hair is long. His eyes are tired. He searches for what he needs and finds it on the counter. Rolling up a bill, he bends over and places it to his nose. He looks back into the mirror. His eyes are stronger, but they do not know who they are looking at. Who is this guy in the mirror? When this began, he was young and energetic. Now, his face is showing its age.

“That’s fine. Let your hair fall in your face, and they will never know the difference.”

He goes to the closet and rips through the clothes hanging within. What is it going to be tonight? They expect it to look a certain way, but any combination will do. He grabs what he needs, puts it on, and looks in the mirror. Only he could get away with this. Hell, if he was a normal person and walked down the street like this people would look at him like he was crazy. He is not a normal person, and he is not walking down the street.

He stares at himself in the mirror. Who is this guy? Where did I go? There is another knock on the door.

“You ready?”

He is not ready. He wants to close his eyes, but he cannot. They are waiting for him just like last night and the night before. He is tired, but he cannot rest. He takes another hit and opens the door. It is a small space, and a few people are crammed inside. There is a blonde here and a brunette there. Actually, he recognizes the brunette. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thinks she had been in his bed. He smiles at her in case she was. Some guy slaps him on the back as he walks past.

He steps down the stairs and feels the cold night air. It wakes him up, and he knows that it is close. People surround him as he walks across the pavement and into the building. They walk down a sterile corridor, and he knows what is waiting at the end. He can hear the sounds echo through the hallway. As they get closer, the sounds get louder.Backstage

People line the hallway. Some are wearing suits and ties. Others are like him – old people trying to look young. They take pictures. They yell his name. They reach out to touch him.

As he walks down the hall, he can feel his energy building. It is not the drugs. It is not memories of the brunette. It is the sound at the end of the hall. He knows what is waiting for him, and he knows it is what he needs. He can hear it more clearly. They are chanting his name. They are stomping their feet. They want him, and he needs them. He needs the chants. He needs the adoration.

Finally, he gets to the stairs. As he puts his foot on the first step, the music starts. It is loud. It is powerful. It drives the crowd insane. It energizes him. This is why he is here. This is why he exists. He runs up the stairs and into the bright lights. The crowd screams.

He is energized. He is young again. Before he hit the stage, he was a tired old man. Now, he is a god. He is a Rock Star.

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