You are currently browsing the archives for April, 2009.
A couple of days ago, a woman in New York reportedly kicked her two daughters out of her car and told them to walk home. The 12-year old eluded capture, but the 10-year old managed to get picked up by the authorities. The mother was later charged with endangering the welfare of a child. As you might suspect, I have a few thoughts on this:
Is walking such a dangerous act that pre-teens are no longer able to perform it without direct parental supervision? Are we really requiring this degree of shelter for our children? Don’t let them out of your sight for a minute! Something bad might happen and then you could be incarcerated.
This reminds me of modern helmet laws for children on bicycles. I submit to you my extensive experience with bicycles. I rode bicycles through elementary and high schools and never had a helmet until I was an adult. None of my friends had helmets, either. I don’t think anyone even made bicycle helmets in those days, and if they did, we would not have been caught dead wearing them.
So the youngsters in our reading audience are wondering how we all survived with our brains intact, and all the people of a certain age are remembering similar childhoods. None of us wore helmets, and you know what? I never had a single childhood friend suffer a major head injury from this omission! But they are a legal requirement in many areas.
Back to the walkers… I have experience there, too. When I was in the sixth grade, my parents and I decided I would go to the city school in our town. This required busing past the school nearest to my house. I actually had to change buses at the school I was zoned to attend and then ride another to the local high school. That was the end of the bus line, but not the end of my trip. I had to make it another mile or so on foot.
I ran that distance most mornings during my sixth, seventh and eighth grade years. I usually only had around 10 minutes, so I’d run it pretty hard or risk being late for class. And you know what, I don’t think anyone knew or cared to know. People walked to school in those days and I was just “walking” to school. It never occurred to me that this was child abuse, but now that I think of it, it was uphill…both ways.
‘But, Mister Hippo, the times, they was so much safer back in them days.’
Were we safer or were we just less scared? I’m sure someone will bust open his head riding a bike any minute now, and I’m sure someone else will get abducted for walking beside a road. I was almost abducted while walking beside a road in Guam, but I was an adult, and that is a story for another day.
But, honestly, are all our precautions really necessary? And how much are we willing to pay for safety? Should we hock our parental rights and let the authorities tell us how to make a point? Should we wrap our kids in bubble wrap to protect them from danger? Should we tell our kids to lie down and crawl so they don’t get hurt? Bubble Boy was miserable in his plastic bubble!
The host on the radio this afternoon suggested they threaten the mother with charges “but just to scare her.” I think they should leave her alone. If she wants to make those snot-nosed kids walk home, I think it is her place to do so. How will parents retain any authority if the state inserts itself in matters where a child is not endangered?
A lot of people say that parents should be responsible for raising their kids and teaching them right from wrong. How can that happen if the state usurps that role?
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
What is up with people delaying their entertainment via TiVo, DVR, VHS, Betamax, or whatever?!
I personally record things on DVR for my convenience, so I understand the appeal of the technology. My schedule pretty much makes recordings a necessity if I’m going to catch any prime time television, but I accept the fact that the rest of the world will be talking about last night’s game or episode today. If I don’t watch it with everyone else, I run the risk of finding out about it, second hand, before I am able to watch it for myself.
I think everyone understands that much and pretty much agrees to this point. Here is where we diverge:
Some people (and perhaps you count yourself in this number) actually expect the rest of us to avoid talking about sporting events, television shows, and movies because they have decided to wait and watch them days, weeks or months after the rest of us. What?! This is an imposition!
If you find that your program-watching procrastination sometimes results in berating your friends about their revealing entertainment conversations, you have issues. There, now I’ve said it, and I hope you’re not too mad at me, but it had to be said.
I just watched House. Even though it aired 3 days ago, this is where I’m supposed to say “SPOILER” so you’ll know not to keep reading if you haven’t watched this week’s episode. Anyway, I was shocked by the death of Dr. Kutner. He was a popular doctor on the show, and while I’m sure he has better opportunities elsewhere, I hated to see him leave the cast. Call me names if you want, but I thought I’d search the web to see if I could get any perspective on what was up with the casting move.
I ended up in the House community forum where everyone said the same thing over and over: “I can’t believe it!” Then, I ended up Googling an article about it, which was published the next day. There were actually comments from people who were mad about the article that I was glad to find!
One guy was upset because it came up in his Google feed. Do you realize what this means? This guy has set up keywords to bring in House related articles automatically, and then he gets mad when one of those articles actually talks about the show. What does he hope to find in those articles? Perhaps all entertainment articles should share a common headline: “SPOILER!” Maybe that would solve this poor guy’s problem.
Another person is DVRing the entire season and plans to watch it all later. He is also upset at the SPOILER. Why, then, is he reading about the season? Does he think the entire fan base for the show is going to avoid talking about the show until he gets around to viewing it? He is weeks/months behind! And when he does watch his collection of back episodes, will he also search on Google keyword “SPOILER” to find articles on everything someone doesn’t know. Wow! That would put a whole new spin on boolean queries: If SPOILER AND NOT SPOILER…
Newsflash: Non hermits actually talk to one another and a major topic of conversation is television. Trying to mute everyone you encounter is just wrong. How are we to enjoy talking about the show when you can’t be bothered to playback your recording in a timely manner?
This SPOILER business is ruining entertainment reporting, blogs, forums, and water cooler conversations everywhere. It really has to stop.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
The decline of television programming will not be solved by a simple change of the channel. As Springsteen once sang, “there’s 57 channels and nothin’ on,” and don’t we know it! Many complain about the lack of quality programming on television, but how many realize that our own behaviors contribute to the problem. Our response to advertisements, our buying habits and even our voyeuristic tendencies are all partially to blame.
Let’s look at advertisements. Television programs are funded by ads. When you support the advertisers that pay to produce your favorite shows, you help make those shows marketable. If no one responds to an ad, it is discontinued, and a show without a sponsor cannot last for long. Even a very popular show will not last without advertisers.
I’ve noticed that older people tend to buy less. We just don’t want as much. Teens and twenty-somethings, on the other hand, are big purchasers. Is it any wonder, then, that so many shows appeal to that age group? If television seems predominantly immature to those in middle age and beyond, it is probably because sponsors are targeting that big group of buyers while avoiding those of us who don’t spend.
Another factor contributing to the decline of quality TV programming is the digital video recorder. It is so easy to record a show and fast forward through the commercials that no one even knows who paid for the shows they watch. Honestly, if it were not for the omnipresent channel logos, I would rarely even know what channel I was watching. I just tell the machine what I like to watch and it figures out all the details. I do pay for a service to make it all work, but I’m pretty sure those people don’t give any of my money to the people who actually produce the show. If my fancy machine finds less and less of what I like to watch, I guess I have no reason to complain.
When I mentioned “voyeuristic tendencies” earlier perhaps I misled you. Please allow me to clarify. Americans have begun to watch life rather than live it. Besides organized sports—which often unite the community, instill a sense of pride, and provide support to schools—there are many spectator events that have no such upside.
In recent years, we’ve recoiled and marveled as people ate bugs, raced around the globe, and struggled to “survive” on an island. Personally, I’d rather eat a bug than watch non-scripted non-actors having conspiratorial conversations about “survival.” But despite the frequently negative tone on these shows, they remain popular. Nowadays, you can watch someone learn to dance or attempt to sing for Simon. Some of the good ones are worth watching, but honestly, wouldn’t you rather dance or sing than watch it on television? Programmers know your answer, which is why we have so many of these shows instead of scripted stories with plots and actors. As long as we continue to live vicariously through our television sets, programmers will keep dreaming up ways to keep us on the couch.
Maybe we should all hold out for shows with a plot and real actors. If we find one we like, we could actually support the advertisers and see what happens. Wouldn’t that be something? Otherwise, we will get more of the same, and we’ll have no one to blame but ourselves.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
“Let us make a name for ourselves.” (Genesis 11:4)
The book of Genesis recounts a story about a tower called Babel. The name means gate to God, which is appropriate given the intent of the builders to climb up and meet God face-to-face. A couple of ideas are prominent in the story.
By working together, we believe we can accomplish great things and pull ourselves up to the level of God through our own effort. When we attempt to make a name for ourselves, however, our focus is completely on ourselves. This direction feels right to us: If I get what I want, I will be happy. If I am rich and accomplished, I will be happy. If I leave a legacy, I will be happy. In truth, that direction is all wrong.
Happiness does not come from any of these things. Our appetites for self-satisfaction far exceed our abilities to ever satisfy them. Surveys have shown that no matter what a person makes, he always wants just a little more. A favorite Pulitzer-Prize-winning author killed himself. These results suggest that satisfaction does not come from accomplishments, wealth, or legacy. You can’t buy true happiness, and as long as you focus internally, you’ll never find satisfaction.
When we are all on the same page, we often move in directions that are not in our best interests. The people building the tower of Babel believed they were making good progress even though their endeavor wasn’t in their best interests. We can never be equal with God! There was no voice of disagreement to be heard, however, and each reinforced the other as they toiled to make names for themselves.
I often think of the tower of Babel when I hear about efforts to come up with one world language, to develop a common currency, or to unite under a common world government banner like the United Nations. Is there value in all this agreement?
Many people suggest that if we could all just get along, we could make great strides toward progress. I suppose that is true, but we could also find that we’re just agreeing with one another and heading in the wrong direction. Frankly, that is what worries me, and I know I shouldn’t worry, but sometimes I still do.
The two-party system in America gets the blame for a lot of division, but in fact, it is the ideas we disagree on that divide us, not party labels. Of course, some people vote along party lines, appearing to have little enthusiasm for the actual issues, but most people seem to really believe in their positions. We vote for the people we feel can best advance our position, hoping for our version of progress.
In fact, progress is in the eye of the beholder. Much of what I would consider progress is actually retro. I’d have our government guide us back to an earlier time on some issues—that would be a time before “progress” changed things for the worse. But that is my opinion. About half of Americans disagree with me, (and some days I think I only know that half.)
But this is where the beauty of disagreement really starts to shine. Where there is opposition, progress is slow, and I prefer slow movement sometimes. When I believe we’re heading the wrong way, for example.
How fast would you want to drive if you knew you were heading away from your destination? Headed in the right direction? Full-speed ahead! Headed in the wrong direction? Brakes!
And brakes are my recommendation of the day. Let’s pray for the continued diversity of thoughts and ideas in our society. Let’s pray for slow movements. Let’s pray for those who would express ideas contrary to the prevailing opinion. And let’s pray for those who would ‘make a name for themselves.’
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
I have several pair of sunglasses that I leave on my motorcycle, so I always have a pair handy when needed. One pair distorts colors in an odd way, but they fit comfortably with my helmet, so I keep them. And for once-in-a-while wear, the effect is actually somewhat pleasing. On my ride to work on Friday, I marveled at various distorted shades of greens and browns blurring by at highway speeds. Spring is here, and I was happy to be alive and free and riding my bike.
A tractor-trailer rig was ahead of me on the road, and since they are dangerous to ride near, I decided to pass. After cresting a hill, however, the grade eased the load on the driver’s engine, and the truck began to accelerate. I don’t like to be passed when I am passing, so I sped up some more. In a quick moment, I found that familiar point of exhilaration, which always makes me stop to count my blessings. I was happy to be alive and out in front of that truck and on my bike.
On the way home, I rode by a dead raccoon, ugly and bloated on the roadside. I thought about the raccoon crossing the street hours earlier, fatally misjudging the traffic. I hoped he never knew what hit him. I hoped he appreciated the life he lived as he lived it. Usually, raccoons seem happy, but you can never tell. Despite the evidence of such an untimely passing, I thought, “I am really happy to be alive!” And I was glad I didn’t get raccoon guts on my bike.
Sometimes at night, I see a ‘possum near one of the houses in my neighborhood. I was thinking ahead, hoping to see him again. Often his beady little eyes are the first signs that he is near the street, so I was looking for reflections in my headlight. No such luck… But as I scanned for the ‘possum, I caught a glimpse of a rabbit running beside my bike. He was running right along side for just a second. It appeared that he was in the process of aborting a road crossing to avoid becoming road kill like the raccoon. I was glad he made it, I was glad to be alive, and I was glad that once again, I had avoided varmint guts on my bike.
I hope you found a bunch of reasons to appreciate your life on Friday. And I hope you find a bunch more today and every day. It is great to be alive! And it’s ridin’ weather!
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
There appears to have been little enthusiasm for my “brakes!” note of yesterday. Let’s see if anyone feels more strongly about eco-driving.
I just watched a video extolling the virtues of eco-driving, and I want to protest. For those who haven’t heard, eco-driving involves coasting up to lights to avoid a full stop. It involves very slow accelerations. It involves driving under the speed limit in some highway situations. And it involves making non eco-drivers very mad at you.
I am a non eco-driver. In fact, I consider myself a wanna-get-to-where-I’m-goi
ng driver. People who won’t pull up to the light jeopardize my chances of actually getting through the light. I try not to honk or gesture, but I have a hard time thinking peaceful thoughts in some of these encounters.
Around Knoxville it is not at all uncommon for the green light to be so short as to leave many cars stuck waiting for the next round. This has long had three root causes: 1) People not paying attention at the light and therefore snoozing through the first 10 seconds or so of the light, 2) People not closing up the gaps between cars, and 3) People failing to accelerate through the light to clear the way for others.
Eco driving appears to be a formal campaign to shore up the ranks of those who would participate in reasons 2 and 3, and anyone who drives slowly around town is already a number one violator. Is there no thought for the amount of gas I waste idling through another red light? Isn’t eco-driving really just another way of saying, “selfish driving?”
I’m surprised that formation driving isn’t listed as another obnoxious way to save gas. Certainly, it keeps others from going the speed limit every day. In a big picture sort of a way, formation driving would appear to hold promise for reduction of gas consumption. Except for the times when the formation driver has to really speed up or slow down to stay in formation.
In a related topic, I’ve been eyeing those big battering ram style front bumpers. Les Baney once encouraged me to get a giant steel bumper on the back of my truck, so if anyone hit me it would really tear up their car. The opposite of that idea seems to hold some promise for the front bumper.
Mrs. Hippo and I have a collection of old pillows that we no longer use. If I were to attach those to a new battering ram style bumper, could I not push people out of the way without damaging their cars?
If you are an eco-driver and a FOMHIP, please identify yourself and your car, so I will know to avoid pushing you to the side of the road if I end up behind you in traffic.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
In a recent article, Business Week talks about the need for both dreamers and “executors,” while citing Walt Disney and his brother Roy (www.businessweek.com, Are You a Walt Disney or a Roy Disney, G, Michael Maddock and Rapahael Louis Viton, April 14, 2009). Essentially, the article concludes that it take both kinds of people for success. I wonder how many of us remember that on a day-to-day basis.
Where I work, I’m fortunate to have many “executor” type personalities, working in “executor” type jobs. They get things done. Of these two choices, I’d have to say I’m more of a dreamer. I lean heavily on big picture perspectives, and for the most part, I feel like I provide an important function. I don’t think you’d want a ton of people like me around, but most days, I think one or two can be pretty helpful.
Here is where the challenge comes in, though. I sometimes feel that I need to be more of an executor, and I suspect many executors yearn for more of a big-idea role. Although we can be multi-faceted, we don’t do all things with equal enthusiasm. In fact, I am pretty good with details, but I don’t like them.
If we work in our strength/preference area, we tend to be much more productive and happy. Why must we feel the need to be all things to all people? Is it because our jobs require this? Is it because supervisors praise those who are an “inch deep and a mile wide” over those who specialize at one thing and do it very well (a mile deep and an inch wide)? Is it because we see others performing well in an area where we are weak, and we lose our confidence in ourselves?
While the first two may be true in some cases, I suspect that last reason accounts for most of this sentiment. How many of us put our sense of self worth into every encounter at work, with friends, or at home? There is no reason for this. Our self-worth need not be wagered on every single encounter!
There is a child-rearing tip that suggests we should praise children frequently to avoid an overabundance of criticism. We tell kids “no” for so many things, we need to also tell them positive things to offset all that (necessary) negativity. It may help us if exercise a similar behavior for our own sanity.
As we go through this week, let’s remind ourselves that we are not all things to all people for a reason. In truth, we don’t want to be, and there is no need for us to be. We need others and they need us. If we work well with others, we may never single handedly win all the glory, but we will increase our chances for contentment at work and at home.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
The silence of the FOMHIPs is irksome. Mrs. Hippo says people read but often don’t comment. I’m not so sure. I say people often don’t read at all or comment. I guess that is to be expected. Mrs. Hippo points out that a newspaper columnist doesn’t have any idea about readership either. I countered that with…well, here is how it went:
Mr. H. – I don’t think anyone is reading my notes page.
Mrs. H. – Nonsense. I read them all, but I just don’t always have anything to say.
Mr. H. – Okay. I don’t think anyone besides you is reading them, and frankly, I think many of the 93 members have forgotten how to navigate back to the site.
Mrs. H – I’m sure there is some of that, but I think many of the members do visit from time to time.
Mr. H. Many?
Mrs. H. – Okay. A few. How many do you need?
Mr. H. – I don’t “need“ any, but 100 daily visitors would be nice.
Mrs. H – That is not realistic. You only have 93 members and one of them is you.
Mr. H – I’d have 100 members if people visited the site and cared enough to invite others.
Mrs. H – Well, people are busy with other things, and not everyone likes to read as much as you like to write.
Mr. H – I could be busy with other things, too, I guess. I’ve got that new video game I could play…
Mrs. H – Why do you even have a notes page? Is it because you have things to say and you want to get them out? Or is it because you want people to read what you have to say?
Mr. H – I want people to read what I have to say, but I also want them to interact about the topics. I don’t like to just write and toss the stuff away without anyone ever seeing it, if that is what you mean. There is no inherent joy in churning out this gibberish day after day.
Mrs. H – Maybe people are so impressed with your analysis of a topic that they are speechless.
Mr. H – Have you looked at the member list? These people are not all speechless. Many of them have never been speechless a day in their lives.
Mrs. H – I think you should think happy thoughts. Assume the best.
Mr. H – I think I need a better site. This Facebook page doesn’t show traffic volume at all. Maybe I’ll get a blog.
Mrs. H –That would be a good idea, but how will you get people to visit that if they won’t visit this?
Mr. H – It won’t make any difference, but I could tell how many visitors I get on a better host, so I’d know if I was wasting my time or not.
Mrs. H – If you say so.
We usually wait 30 minutes or so before starting the conversation over. Maybe I will research other hosts in my spare time.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
(Note: FOMHIPs are Friends of Mister Hippo)
Would you water board a drug dealer?
Let’s say you have a child who walks to school, and you know there is a drug kingpin somewhere in your town. They’ve arrested a bunch of low-level dealers on the corner across from your kid’s school, but some unknown big Kahuna keeps sending new salesmen to move his products. Now, let’s further suppose that one your kid’s friends died recently from an overdose because of the drug problem in your neighborhood. Would you water board the low level pusher guys to get to the big wig behind the whole thing?
Let’s take a look at the process for water boarding someone. First you put them on a board with their head slightly lower than their body. Then, you pour water on their faces, ensuring you get liberal amounts down into their goozle. This results in the sensation of drowning, which I’m told is not very pleasant.
So let’s get back to our hypothetical situation. We take the scumbag drug dealer who preys on little kids, flip him upside down and pour water down his goozle. He begins to fear for his life. He begins to wonder if he is going to make it. He may even begin to consider giving up information about his boss. And then you walk in and see what is happening. You instantly realize this is about the drug problem in your neighborhood, you think about that poor dead child, and you say…Well, what do you say? Do you shout for them to stop the water boarding?
Would you take measures like these to stop the scourge of drug addiction from violently impacting your child’s life? How can you be so cruel? This is torture we’re talking about for goodness sake! Can any end justify these horrible means? Won’t this all go away if we simply agree to play nice-nice with one another?
A scene from a Stephen King movie comes to my mind. There is a guy who is trying to get back at his wife and who happens to have had a run in with a horrible curse. He gets the curse reversed, but it ends up in this nasty looking pie. He is told that someone has to eat that pie to complete his de-cursification, but whoever eats the cursed pie will die. Although he plans to give it to his wife, he is urged to eat his own pie and “die clean.”
Die clean. There is a thought for today. What sort of measures will we take to protect ourselves. Wouldn’t it always be better to die clean than to live with a horrible sin on our conscience? And that thought, I think, lies at the heart of this water boarding question.
Good people believe it would be better to “die clean” than to preserve themselves if it means crossing certain lines, and water boarding is across one of those lines for them. They may believe torturing a drug dealer or a terrorist is a horrible sin, and they’d rather just die clean. Of course, a lot of people don’t really think anything will happen to them, so the thought process they employ is much less personal than the hypothetical situation we’ve been considering.
I’m not sure I can agree with the idea that we should always avoid measures like water boarding. When Jesus spoke of turning the other cheek, he was speaking to an audience that was well versed in the concept of an eye-for-an-eye. He didn’t need to tell them that there were times when a physical response was appropriate. They knew that. They were wearing that idea out!
Are we to always turn the other cheek as a matter of principle, or are there times when we may need to defend ourselves, our families, and our way of life?
Romans 13:4 suggests there is support to be found in the New Testament for the idea of authorities pursuing what is right through force: “But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid; for he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is a minister of God, an avenger for wrath to him that doeth evil.”
So would you water board a drug dealer? Let me know what you think.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
My father and I built a barn one summer for a little money and a lot of sweat. To save on lumber, we harvested oak trees on the mountain behind our house. We laid low those giants with our saws and axes. When they tangled with other trees, we climbed them and rode them to the ground. Our only safety gear was good balance and a strong instinct to stay alive.
I personally rode a few of those trees through falls of 50 feet or more. The thundering, shuddering stop at the bottom created good opportunities to wonder about my sanity as I inventoried vital body systems. Neither of us was ever hurt riding trees, which is remarkable given how many we rode. There must have been an angel watching over us on those hot summer days.
After trimming and loading the trees on our truck, we hauled them to the sawmill where they were transformed into posts and planks. When we brought them home, they were green and heavy with moisture. Those boards were nearly as hard as the nails we used. To drive a nail into one of them was to shower myself in sparks.
During sawmill delays, we prepared the site and poured the forms for the posts. We also bought a dilapidated old barn and began tearing it down for more lumber. Armed with gloves and crowbars and a dedication to barn destruction, we drove up to attack that aged structure. It took us a while, but we persevered and eventually transformed that barn into giant piles of boards, nails, and tin.
Dad worked nights and I went to school during the day, so he worked separately on the pile of recycled wood. He would hammer nails out of boards all morning, leaving them ready to be clawed out that afternoon when I returned home. I couldn’t stop clawing and scratching until I’d removed the nails dad banged back before he went to work. Dad did not take kindly to slackers.
In thinking back on that project, I could tell you I learned the value of hard work. I could tell you I learned to stick with a job until it’s done. I could tell you about the sense of accomplishment I had from finishing a project so big. In a way, all of things are true enough, but if I am honest with you, I’ll tell you a little something else, too.
What really sticks with me about those days spent swatting sweat bees and smashing thumbnails, is how much trouble my father went through to teach me a few simple life lessons.
Dad did not need a barn. That barn was built, so I could hang tobacco in it in the fall. We raised that barn against the clock because we needed to finish before the crop was ready for harvest. Dad bankrolled both projects and worked for free, while I took home all the profits. Dad’s only return on those investments was my education.
A lot of years have passed since those summer days of my youth, and the years have changed us. I spent this afternoon watching my father grasp his arthritic knee and doze in a hospital bed. In such a snapshot view, it can be difficult to discern the purpose of a life. You can’t look just at the end. An afternoon seated on a vinyl hospital chair provides a good opportunity to put things in perspective.
From time to time, it helps to look back on how things were “once upon a time.” So often fairy tale beginnings and happy endings provide brackets around a difficult middle. Dad’s story is no different. His happy times are gone and we’re still in the unpleasant middle part, but a happy ending is just ahead.
And that is enough looking back for one day, I guess.
Sincerely,
Mister Hippo
