How To Listen

(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)

“What’d you say?” he asked.  Realizing he couldn’t remember crossing the bridge she created–the bridge over which her words matured into tears–he felt a great shame settle over him.  Leo Tolstoy wrote, “The tears seemed to be the proper lubricant without which the machine of mutual communion between the two sisters could not work successfully.”  Similarly, her tears contained the power to recapture his attention.  The tears also had the effect of making him want to listen.  He briefly wondered how anyone found his way without Tolstoy.

Hours later, he made it a point to determine if he’d always had difficulty listening.  At first, his ego caused him to deny such a charge and pointed out that he was an excellent student.  He also recalled how he excelled in a professional environment.  Both required the ability to listen.  Reluctantly, he opened the door Doubt was moments away from breaking down.  He didn’t have very many close friends.  He certainly hadn’t made any new friends in years.  Swallowing his just-a-bit-too-large-a-bite-of-food-which-chokes-but-doesn’t-kill pride, he finally admitted the truth.  He objectified people.

This was the only way he could make sense of it.  If the person he was with couldn’t help him in some way, his mind found better things to do.  Even before this revelation solidified, he had difficulty believing this was a deficient quality.  That difficulty became an uncommon resolve which he used to summit his problem.  At last he stood atop his terrifying realization.  This never-before-seen perspective decisively gave him the vantage point necessary for change.

Instructions for How To Listen:

Step 1 – Stop talking.

Step 2 – Stop objectifying people.

How To Respect

(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)

He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed there was at least a correlation between the two.  He thought it was more likely cause and effect than correlation though.  But he knew it didn’t have to be.  He knew that laziness was the real culprit.

Of course, he couldn’t blame anyone in particular.  It certainly wasn’t the aggregators fault; they were just amassing the information.  Likewise, it wasn’t the people who provided the information’s fault.  All they did was volunteer knowledge–itself a pretty harmless action at worst.

There seemed to be no other option.  It had to be the individual.  Was the individual person the guilty party?  Yes.  He was sure of it.  He knew it all along.  He tried to pretend the responsibility didn’t fall on a single person’s shoulders, but it was clear now.  As much as he wanted to shrug off the burden, a singular sensation passing through his body signaled that he was right.  Everyone was accountable for the lack of respect permeating the culture.

In an instant, his mood changed.  He felt cheery and seemed to see the world in a different light.  If the problem had been identified, there could now be a solution.  Of all people, he should have seen this bright conclusion earlier.   It mattered not.  He wouldn’t allow these thoughts to dampen his mood.

Up until recently, there did seem to be a direct relationship between how much information a person knew, and how wise they were.  Naturally, the information age has saturated mankind with data.  As a result, everyone acted on the belief that there were answers to life’s problems.  People thought that information was wisdom.  The mistake is forgivable.  Nonetheless, it must be addressed.  The starting place, is re-learning how to respect another person.  He knew this point was tricky, as not every person behaves in a way that deserves respect.  He also knew that people rise to the occasion, and in this country every person has the same inherent right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.  In this manner, at least, all people deserve respect.

So how does one give respect?  See below.

Instructions for How To Respect:

Step 1 – Listen.

Step 2 – Ask, “What are you going to do?”

A Letter to the Editor

The NSA conducts surveillance.  The New York Times commits treason.  Which is worse?

In publishing what can only be described as a paid advertisement–Leonard H. Schrank and Juan C. Zarate’s, “Data Mining, Without Big Brother,”–the Times dragged itself through the gutter just to sell papers.

In their July 2, 2013 editorial, Schrank and Zarate abused the responsibility the national spotlight demands.  Their piece informed us that they worked on a program—Swift—that has no practical correlation to the NSA’s surveillance program beyond the quite obvious fact that they both work with big data.  To a hammer, everything looks like a nail.  The Times should be ashamed for printing this.

Schrank and Zarate conclude, “Ultimately, the Obama administration needs to demonstrate that the programs are not only valuable and legal, but also that the government’s use of that data can be constrained and verified.”  In other words, they conclude that the Obama administration must prove a negative.  With all their schooling, professional accomplishment, and first-hand experience deterring terrorism, their big conclusion is a logical fallacy?  Not even President Obama’s rhetorical abilities can overcome their logical error and prove someone is not doing something.

Let’s switch gears for a moment.  What is the problem in this whole Snowden story?  The problem is that an NSA employee couldn’t keep a secret.  Are we or are we not a country who understands the value of secrecy when it comes to security?  If Americans want to keep “winning”, we need to be sure our enemies do not know our capabilities.  Thanks to Edward Snowden, they just became more aware.  We should be asking, “What was he thinking?”

The elementary lesson Snowden somehow missed, the truth that the New York Times allowed itself to be distracted from, is that for secrets to work they must be kept secret.  A secret’s power is derived from the requirement that it remains secret.

The Times, in running this editorial, demonstrated either that it never took an undergraduate course in logic, or that like Snowden, it too has committed an act of treason.

When Jeffrey Wigand revealed that Brown and Williamson knowingly included carcinogenic additives to boost the nicotine in cigarettes, it was a clear case of acting in good faith to better inform the public about a commercial product.  On the other hand, revealing one method an agency charged with national security uses to accomplish its mission is a clear case of treachery.  Since not everyone is able to immediately discern the distinction, an established publication such as The New York Times decidedly has the responsibility to publish writers who can.

Rather than publish a distracting paid advertisement for Swift, the Times should publish a case study on Edward Snowden.  Publish the study because in every failure there is a lesson.  We need to learn the events of his life which led him to the conclusion that revealing national security secrets is somehow in the best interest of national security.  Our freedom depends on it.

The Secret to Avoiding Danger

To begin, I learned that an email containing my last blog Special Fourth of July Interview with A Mugwump was not sent.  Read it.

For today, read on to reveal the secret.

Censorship is murder.  To be a human, as opposed to all other known life forms, requires an unfettered ability to communicate one’s value (in the form of words, images, or music) to other humans.  And an external restriction of a person’s expression of value is the same as telling them they have no value.  In other words, to censor is a malicious attempt to end the censored’s life.

Defining censorship in this way is meant to cause careful consideration of censorship.  Exploring censorship at its most basic level is the only way to get to the root of the issue, by definition.

The fairly recent article, “The Ed Sullivan Show and the (Censored) Sounds of the Sixties”* is the case study in question.  In it, Ian Inglis discusses the widely popular Ed Sullivan Show and its unique experiences with censorship.  That television show showcased up and coming performers every Sunday night.  Popular wisdom states that if a performer appeared on the show, he/she would achieve great material success.  The article discusses three now well-known performers and their experiences with Ed Sullivan’s censorship.

First, after being selected to appear on the show, Bob Dylan was asked to perform a totally different song than the one he had planned to perform on the show.  Second, the Rolling Stones were asked to change a lyric; they did.  Third, The Doors were asked to change a line from one of their songs.  They paid lip-service to the request, but when live, they did not change it.  Inglis concludes, “Ironically, one consequence of the censorship suffered by all three performers was that their positions were unequivocally enhanced (Inglis 571).”

Inglis rather wordily describes the simple fact that censorship is murder.  Each instance demonstrates this perfectly.  First look at what happened to the Rolling Stones.  Mick Jagger and Keith Richards wrote the song in question, “Let’s Spend the Night Together.”  Before their performance, an outside entity changed the lyrics.  Logically, though subtlety, this means that while the performers looked similar to the Rolling Stones, they were in fact some other band, some new band.  By allowing their lyrics to be changed, in effect, the Rolling Stones murdered themselves for that night.  Next, take Bob Dylan.  He wouldn’t concede to the censor, so he didn’t perform on the show.  It is now clear that The Ed Sullivan show never wanted Bob Dylan to perform.  They wanted someone who looked, acted, and sounded like Bob Dylan to perform.  When they couldn’t get what they wanted, they murdered him.  Finally, take the Doors.  Long live the Doors.  They played the game, they fooled the “man”, and they played their song, uncensored.  The only performers who remained unscathed, then, were the Doors.

In my own life, an even more appalling proof that censorship is murder took place when I was young.  My mom censored my sister from the New Kids On The Block “Step By Step” album.  To the uninformed, this may not seem like murder.  But those of us who are close to the situation know that the New Kids On The Block died after releasing that album.  The New Kids On The Block never released another original studio album after “Step By Step.”  The five men who made up that group did eventually release more original songs, but under the name NKOTB instead.  How can this be explained except to say that censorship is murder?

The question remaining is why did Ed Sullivan and my mom choose to murder these performers?  To discover the answer, we must turn inward.  Violence is often committed against those who we find threatening.  Murder is the fullest expression of violence and is resorted to when all other attempts fail.  Time and time again we see that if humans feel they are in danger, they remove the danger.  If necessary, they remove the danger through violence.  What danger can possibly exist in the form of words, music, and/or images?  In and of themselves, they are unable to physically harm a person.  Therefore, the danger in question must be regarding the mind.  A short story can help explain the deficiencies in this way of thinking.

Aircraft pilots are people who professionally deal with avoiding death on a daily basis.  To draw the metaphor, we could say they professionally deal with avoiding danger of any sort.  This is very different than most other professions.  But it is common knowledge within the aviation community that at the end of the day a pilot really just wants to have successfully completed the same number of landings as takeoffs.  The point being that a pilot counts success as being alive at the end of each daring flight, not whether or not some particular mission was accomplished.

Pilots avoid danger.  Censors believe they protect people from danger.  It should prove very instructive, then, to learn how pilots avoid danger.  Pilots avoid danger, not by actively avoiding danger.  Over time, the community of pilots discovered that if they attempted to avoid danger, they only compounded the danger already inherent to human flight.  Instead, they fly correctly.  They focus their energy on learning the right way to fly.  Naturally, this matches the safest way, but it is important to note that pilots think in ‘correct vs. incorrect’ not ‘safe vs. dangerous’ terms.

Regarding words/music/images, the same principle should be applied.  Artist’s (people) should not be censored because their art may cause harm.  They should be encouraged to achieve their fullest potential.  Regardless of whether the work is appropriate or inappropriate, it may have value.  The only way to measure the value is to determine its quality.  Ancient wisdom would have us believe that there is a time and place for everything.  Rather than focus on the–as demonstrated by pilots–ineffective idea that danger can be avoided if it is censored, how much better informed could a population be if it only cared about quality?

Returning to the thesis then, we need to remind ourselves that what we’re really discussing is freedom and value.  If Ed Sullivan would have simply acknowledged those three performers had value and the public wanted to see them, not look-a-likes, the results would have been untainted.  As it stands, the saying, “there’s no such thing as bad publicity” rues the day.  Would those three performers have had such success if no censorship attempt was made?  Probably.  So the fool, then, is Ed Sullivan.  The fool, then, is the censor.  Humans require the freedom to communicate their value.  Inherent to the act of censorship is the death of this freedom to communicate.  Furthermore, we have seen that censorship does not—cannot—deter any coming danger.

*INGLIS, I. (2006), The Ed Sullivan Show and the (Censored) Sounds of the Sixties. The Journal of Popular Culture, 39: 558–575. doi: 10.1111/j.1540-5931.2006.00279.x

Special Fourth of July Interview with A Mugwump

I’m excited to tell you all that I had an opportunity to interview A Mugwump this morning.  I thought it was a fascinating conversation, but you judge for yourself.

Captain’s Log – How many ways can we spend money?

A Mugwump – Just two.  The two ways we can spend our money are by choice or by compulsion.

CL – What is money?

AM – The dictionaries are wrong on this one.  Big time.  It’s not complicated.  Money is a language.  Unlike say, English which can communicate the breadth of the human experience, money can only communicate one thing.  Money can only communicate value.  Money is a language that communicates one thing.  Money communicates value.  That’s it.  All the talk about recessions, depressions, inflation, the 99%, the 1%, Wall Street, Main Street, all of that is meaningless.  Money is a language that communicates value.

CL – Are you saying that people with money are more valuable than people without money?

AM – No.  This point is tricky, so pay attention.  Money is only money when it is in motion.  A dollar in my pocket is not a dollar.  It is a piece of paper that looks like a dollar.  When I take it out to purchase something, as I hand it to the seller, it transforms into money.  It transforms into a communication of value.  Whether we have a lot of money or no money has nothing to do with our value.  When we choose to spend money, we communicate to others what we value.  As I said, money in motion is the language we use to express value.

CL – Okay then, let’s return to the two ways we can spend our money, what is communicated when we choose to spend our money?

AM – When we spend our money by our own choice, we come to an agreement with the seller of the goods as to the value of the product or service.  In short, when we choose to spend our money we communicate how much we value the product or service.  If we think a particular TV is worth $300 and the person with the TV thinks it is worth $300, we hand over the $300 dollars and the seller hands us the TV.  The money transferred communicates the agreed upon value of the TV.

CL – And what about when we are compelled?

AM – It is not the same when we talk about being compelled to spend our money.  When we are compelled to spend our money, that money does not communicate the value of a product or service.  Instead, when we are compelled to spend our money, the money communicates how much we think we’re worth as an individual.  The money that an armed-robber forces us to give him was freely given to us in exchange for the value of a specific application of our time, skill, and/or energy.  The armed-robber is giving us nothing of value in return for our money. Therefore, when we pay the armed-robber everything we have to stay alive, we’ve just communicated that we think our time, skill, and energy, in other words, our life, has no value.  And the act of paying everything–our time, our skill, and our energy (our life)–to stay alive is another way to define slavery.

CL – Slavery, huh?  It sounds like you may be describing the government as an armed-robber.  What do you think a government is?

AM – No, you misunderstand.  The government is not an armed-robber.  It does offer certain valuable things, which a private market cannot, in exchange for our money.  What do I think a government is?  To my mind, a description that fits all governments that have ever existed, in all time periods, for all cultures, for all nations, would have to be, “Other people making some of our decisions for us.”  That is what a government is.  A government is nothing more than another person or group of people making some of our decisions for us.  I say “some” of our decisions because that’s what this is all about.  How many of our decisions should a government make for us?  That’s what we are constantly deciding in this life.  To me, less is better.  But I can see how others might not want the responsibility of decision-making, so they might want others to make the decisions for them.

CL – Of all days, why agree to this interview today?

AM – Today, July 4th, 2013, is a fitting day to remind people of the nature of things.  America is the only group we’re all apart of today.  And if your readers are anything like me, they know they have value.  As a matter of fact, even if they’re nothing like me, I believe they have value.  I believe this, not because I have any special knowledge, but because in order to secure my freedom, I must believe and act on the idea that everyone has value.  I must act on the idea that no matter who we are, no matter what our background, no matter what mistakes we’ve made, we have value.  It’s Independence Day.  A holiday helping us remember that our country was founded because citizens disagreed with how/how much of their money they were compelled to spend.  In other words, they believed they should be making more decisions than their government let them.  It was founded because people believed they were worth more than their government thought.  If we want to spend our money as we please, if we want the amount of money we’re compelled to spend to be as little as possible, we need to be reminded that we all have value.  Everyone has value.

A Letter To My Friend (That I Hope To Write)

To My Friend,

We’ve known each other for some time now.  We’ve seen how we each live, how we each make decisions, how we each handle problems.  More than most, you’ve seen my relationships with women unfold.

I’m writing to you now because a new day has dawned.  People like us, we’re different.  Our brains maintain a tighter grip on information than most.  We have been given all the tools necessary to accomplish great things in this life, you and I.  That’s just a fact.  We also know that leading a family must be one of those things.  It is a timeless tradition that must be honored by all men aspiring to greatness.  There is no escaping this feeling.  We’re surrounded by weak men holding their hands out, expecting help.  They’ve got it wrong.  We’re the ones who give help, not receive help.

The point is, we made it this far, and owe it to everyone, literally everyone, to use the rest of our time to be an example.

Some maladjusted part within us wants us to believe that if a woman would have us, then she could be the one.  First hand experience however, tells us that nothing could be further from the truth.  First hand experience also tells us that that’s not enough.  That’s why I’m writing this letter.  We need to help each other stay focused on the goal.  Alone, the future is bleak.  Together, we can lead a revival.

Only because of you am I confident to share the news.  You reminded me of something I once knew; something that over the last several years I repressed, hid, denied, and pretended to forget.  You reminded me that I, too, believe ideal women exist.  I, too,  believe in women of such high quality that they seem unearthly.  I’m talking about a quality so rare that it is only whispered about.  I believe in ideal women who possess so much more than the ability to attract.  My friend, we’ve always hoped we were right.  Now I am certain we were, because I found mine.  I hope this letter brings you good fortune, and motivates you to stay the course.

Your Friend,

A Mugwump

An Apology to LinkedIn Connections

Dear LinkedIn Connections,

I wouldn’t have “Liked” me either.  Hurt doesn’t begin to describe how I felt every passing day, every passing week.  My fervent efforts appeared to fall short in the eyes of even my first degree connections.  Molded by your advice, there I was pursuing my passion.  And even those sage connections didn’t “Like” my work.  Few canyons reach the depth to which my professional depression dove.

“Joy!  Bright spark of divinity!”  In a moment that can only be described by Beethoven’s Ninth, I saw the light.  Consequently, I owe you an apology.

Whether you felt my anger or not, I’m sorry for ever doubting you.  I’m sorry for being upset with you.  It’s difficult, you know?  I’m new to this, and I was only thinking about me.  Until recently, I wasn’t able to look at the problem from your perspective, but I see the truth now.

I realized that LinkedIn is a professional website!  How did I ever miss this fact?!  This means that supervisors, co-workers, and any of your other professional connections are going to see that you “Liked” my blog.  If they’re worth their salt, they’d surely trust your integrity and assume that you actually read my post before “Liking” it.  Why is this a problem?  Because if they know that you’re reading my blog, guess what they know you’re not doing?  Work!

I am so sorry for ever doubting you.  All this time I thought you didn’t actually enjoy my writing.  Now it is clear that you do, but you just aren’t ready to go public yet.  That’s cool.  I’m O.K. with that, as long as we understand each other.

In closing, let me just say one more time that I’m sorry.  Know that I never stopped liking you, even when I thought you didn’t “Like” me.  As time passes it seems like saying I was “angry” might have been too strong; it was more a general feeling of confusion.  Okay, I think your boss is beginning to suspect something, so you’d better get going.  Thank you for your time.  (For real, go!  Don’t worry about me.  From now on, I’ll just assume you “Like” every single post.)

Very Respectfully,

A Mugwump

Grandparents Wanted

“Now that we know who is doing what, it’s time for the prepared speeches portion of the meeting.  Each of our speakers today has prepared what I’m sure will be marvelous speeches.  First up, giving her ‘Ice Breaker’ speech, is Debbie Hinkletoe.  She has spoken many times in the past, but this is her first speech with us.  It appears we are making her feel as nervous as Anne Frank practicing tuba, so let’s be sure to give her all the support we can muster,” joked the old man lovingly attempting ease Debbie’s visible nerves.

It was unclear whether the old man knew that the joke would, to put it mildly, step on a few toes.  The few audience members cursed with the inability to resist a joke’s cue-to-laugh recognized their loneliness and quickly adopted silence.

Concluding the awkward moment, a respectable old woman declared, “Not funny.”

“Okay, meetings over.  Thanks for nothing, you inconsiderate asshole!” seemed the words the audience expected to hear next.  However, following General Waverly’s (White Christmas) advice, “If there’s one thing the army taught me, it was to be positive… …especially when you don’t know what you’re talking about,” the old man made the correct decision to let the moment pass and continue the meeting.

He couldn’t help but smile.  He just witnessed an event only found in books:  An old man putting to use his well-deserved ability to “not care”, and an old woman responding in kind.  Oh, the subtleties of that moment.  As if the back-and-forth had caused the air to congeal, a stillness overtook the room for but an instant.  Neither mortal would yield.  Neither should have.  They both behaved perfectly.  They both…were grandparents.

He always liked “grandparents” as a group, but he was never quite able to put his finger on why; until that exact moment.

But first, while it may seem obvious, the reader must learn what he believed a grandparent to be.  A grandparent is not simply someone whose children have had children.  By his thinking, to be a grandparent, one’s children must be (or have) raising their own children.  Biological grandparents fulfilling the role of primary parent are not grandparents to him, then.  This is a necessary qualification.

It seemed to him that something magical happened when an old person was fully released from parental responsibilities.  The concern for ‘appropriate’ and ‘proper’ disappeared, rightfully so.  Grandparents, then, were the living proof that even the loftiest concepts needed to be knocked off their pedestals every now and again.  It was the exchange between these grandparents that  revealed this truth clearly.

This realization had a second effect.  It motivated him, for he was a parent.  Moreover, he now understood that to earn his status as grandparent he must aggressively embrace his parental responsibility.  Any wasted time or opportunity would only result in his missing out on the ability to someday be the salt of life, would result in his missing out on the near-sanctified duty to offend, provoke, insult, but also spoil, entertain, love.

More than that, he finally understood why, no matter what they did, he always felt loved by his own grandparents.  It was because they wouldn’t be his grandparents if his parents hadn’t loved him first.

How Long Until We Learn? 12 Years? 20 Years? Never?

“Does everyone understand?” the professor asked.  She just finished explaining a nuance regarding citations in academic writing.  “Once more then, common knowledge doesn’t need to be cited, but other than that, it’s best to cite the source of your material.  For example, that Pearl Harbor was attacked on December…9th..?”  Snickers from the class.  “…was it the 9th?” she begged for help.

“7th,” he spoke up.  “December 7th.”

“That’s right, thank you.  Now you all know that I don’t ‘do’ dates very well,” she joked.

“And that you don’t love your country,” he remarked half-joking, but seeking a status increase in his classmate’s eyes as well.

“Haha.  Yes, apparently that too,” she laughed, genuinely appreciating the comment.

His helmet on and secure, he slowly backed the motorcycle out of its parking spot as he prepared to head home from class.  Recognizing that a motorcyclist’s every movement is exposed, he concentrated on making his scan for obstacles look as cool as possible.

Finally, he was on the road.  Warm air, no seat belt; he was one with the machine.  “This will never get old,” he thought to himself.  Seeing brake lights in front of him he looked up to see yellow become red.  Downshifting, he slowed to a stop.  The car in front of him had a sticker that caught his attention.  It simply read, “9-11-01.”  He couldn’t place the date.  Adam and Eve themselves couldn’t describe the shame he felt as he realized his mistake.  How many times did it have to happen until he learned that pride comes before the fall?  Less than 10 minutes after enjoying a good laugh at the professors expense for not remembering the date Pearl Harbor was attacked, he didn’t recognize a sticker whose purpose was to help us never forget the events of September 11, 2001.

Frustrated he rode the rest of the way home analyzing how this could have happened.  Suddenly, an interesting thought: “Wow.  It has been 12 years.  I wonder how everyone felt in 1953 about Pearl Harbor, compared to how we feel now about 9/11.  I always hear about how great the 50s were…  Will people in 2073 look back and romanticize this decade too?”  It seemed unlikely.

**

Insecurity.  Individuals feel it, nations feel it.  In either case, it is a problem that should be stomped out as ferociously as possible.  The attack on 9/11 spoke to life’s uncertainty.  How long are we going to pretend that this was new information?  No living thing is free from a risk of dying.  Why are we still insecure?

Given the occasion to ‘get the jump’ on the yearly discussion, I don’t mind taking the first stab.  We’re still insecure because we don’t understand where security comes from.

Here’s the situation as I see it:  After taking until the mid-1980s to repress Vietnam’s memory, we built a military of overwhelming strength.  The end of the 80s saw the end of The Cold War.  Less than a few years later, we literally obliterated Iraq’s military during Gulf War One.  (Our pilots were shooting down Iraqi pilots before they could retract their landing gear on takeoff.)  This victory made it impossible to resist feeling invulnerable.

The trouble, however, was that the “we” that became invulnerable included the greatest generation.  By 9/11, “we” no longer included the greatest generation or their experience-based (vs secondhand) knowledge and wisdom.  What did they know that would have helped us?  What might we have learned from existing with them, rather than reading about them?  What information do we need to internalize so we can rid ourselves of the wasting disease called insecurity?

Security comes from within.

It won’t come from Obama.  It wouldn’t have come from Romney.  It won’t come from Clinton or Christie.

Whether Hippocrates ever intended his paraphrased oath to be applied by everyone is inconsequential.  “Do no knowing harm.”  That goes for everyone.  All the time.  Whether at work or at play.  In your personal life, in your professional life.

Is life complicated?  Yes.  Has our government acted honorably all the time?  No.  Do people capitalize on every opportunity to take advantage of each other?  Yes.  These questions and answers do not paint a pretty picture.  So what.  Not one of them has any bearing on the decision you are about to make right now.

The only way to overcome this problem is to stop doing knowing harm.  Today.  No matter who is telling you, “It’s okay.”  Whatever consequence you fear will happen if you disobey, you must risk it.  Past mistakes are irrelevant.  The rest of the planet is longing for Americans to wisely use the power we hold.  You know what I’m talking about.  You can’t feign ignorance any longer.

I need your help.  The only way to get there is together.

How To Raise A Toddler

(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)

Okay, bedtime story complete; she’s down.  What the?  Why would they make something a toddler is supposed to put in her mouth out of cardboard?  It took less than two hours for her to flatten the red-party-favor-blower-thing with her brimming with saliva little mouth.  Gross.  Yep, I’m throwing it out.  I’ll just deal with her tomorrow.  She probably won’t even remember that it existed. (#1)

“Daddy!”

Yup.  She’s awake.  I’d guess that it’s probably around 8:00 am.  It’s got to be.  I already heard my housemate leave for work.  Let me just check my phone to see what time it is…  7:00 am!  Oh well.  I want waffles this morning anyhow, so I could use the extra time.

“Daddy?”

“What is it?”

“Where’s my red thing?”

“What red thing?”

“Daddy, can you turn on the light in your room?”

“Just eat.  When you’re done, you can turn on the light yourself.  You’re a big girl now.  You can reach all the light switches in the house.  Turn them on and off yourself as you please.”

“Daddy.  I’m done.  Peez I get off the table?”

“You’re done?!  You haven’t finished your waffles.  How are you going to have enough energy to make it to lunch?”  (#2)

“Daddy.  Peez I get off the table?”

“Fine.”

“Daddy.  Where’s my red thing?”

“I threw it… it probably got thrown away.  It was broken.”  (#3)

“Who breaked it?”

“It’s ‘broke’, not ‘breaked’, ‘broke’.  You did.  Don’t you remember?”  (#4)

“I breaked it?”

“‘Broke.’  Yep.  You sure did.  You should be more careful next time.  Okay, hurry, you have to go to school.”  (#5)

“But I didn’t break it.”

“The point is, it is gone.”

“Are we going to the mountains today?”

“No, you have school today.  We’ll go to the mountains on the weekend.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, let’s get moving.  I’ll get your clothes, time to go potty.”

Not quite making it to school (daycare) on the first trip, I was back in the driveway needing to grab the bathing suit I had told myself  not to forget.  Leaving her in the running car on the drive during the short trip into the house, I thought of all the morons who’ve car-jacked a car with a kid in the back.  Not even fully closing the front door for fear of locking myself out, I might as well have put out the bat-signal.

Feeling the front-door give a little as I twisted the just unlocked handle, I pushed further only to curse myself.  Apparently I didn’t remember to lock the deadbolt this morning before leaving like I told myself I would last night during a bout of all-too-common laziness.  Who invented deadbolts that require a key to lock it on the inside of the house anyhow?  Safe neighborhood, I’m sure.

Upon approaching the car, her child seat was empty.  More curious than concerned, I saw movement on the other side of the seat.  Good for her.  She finally knows how to unlock the seat-belt.  Finally, we made it to the ‘Early Learning Center’.

Crying , she wrapped my pinky and fore finger in her left and right hands which had acquired the grip of a python overnight.  I pried my fingers free and left her in the arms of some accented foreign lady who is her teacher.

This is probably not doing any long-term damage to her.  (#6)

Instructions for How To Raise A Toddler:

Step 1 – Lie as much as you can to the toddler and yourself.

Step 2 — Use the fact that all other parents are also lying as reassurance that you’re on the right track.