The Forces of Change

In spite of not being the most social person in the world, I still enjoy watching people.  This week has been no exception.

As many of you know I’ve been getting up each morning long before the sun comes up and going for a bike ride.  I do at least 20 miles a day, five days a week.  Since I’ve been riding I have decided that I should do it with a goal in mind.  Recently I mentioned on Facebook that I was going to do a 50-mile bike ride.  Since then I’ve upped the mileage of that ride to 120 miles.  Now I am calling my morning bike rides training regimens.  I know that a 120-mile bike ride over a three day period may not seem like much for some folks, but it is a major goal for me and I am really looking forward to it.

I recently took the bike in to a bicycle shop to have it serviced.  The servicing didn’t turn out so good and I’ve taken it back to get it fixed.  That is an entirely different story and depending upon how it all pans out there may be another story to share about a major sporting goods chain.  Anyway, the bike is in the shop and will be for a few days, so instead of riding the bike at four-thirty in the morning Monday I got up and walked the same trail that I normally ride.

Since I was doing something out of my normal routine I decided to try a little social science experiment.  I had a pretty good idea where the experiment would go before I did it since I had previously experienced the results of what I was going to do Monday.  Let me explain what happened before my morning experiment.

Susan and I normally walk the rail trail together in the mornings.  We are generally on the trail around seven-thirty in the morning.  As can be expected we pretty much see the same people every morning and exchange greetings.  There are two brothers in particular that we have come to know.  We always say hello to each other and it is not at all unusual for us to stop and chat for a few minutes then continue on our way, generally in opposite directions.  One morning toward the end of my bike ride, which coincided with the beginning of the brothers’ walk, I greeted them as I rode past them.  They had absolutely no idea who I was.

That is what led up to my little social science experiment on Monday.  Keep in mind that my bike is in the shop and that I walked this morning instead of ride the bike (the bike that I can’t ride because the shop didn’t fix it right in the first place and now I’m without a bike at the height of my training regimen – end of rant).

I’m always wearing a helmet, knee-high shorts, a T-shirt, my glasses, and I ride with lights on my bike when I’m riding.  Remember that I’m riding long before the sun comes up.  As I walked this morning I wore blue jeans, a T-shirt, a baseball cap, and I carried a flashlight (which I didn’t use).  You may remember a few weeks ago that I did a Friday Friends essay on the people I meet and have come to know each morning as I ride.  This morning’s experiment involved them.  My prediction was that they would not recognize me as we passed.  Of course you knew that already.

As I neared the halfway point of my walk I first met Phil, the 80 year-old Marine.  As we passed he nodded and said hello and kept on walking.  I said, “Good morning, Phil.”  He immediately stopped and turned around and looked at me.  “Greg?” he asked.  “I didn’t recognize you.  You are always on your bike and I know when you are coming because of the light on your bike.  You hadn’t passed me yet and I thought maybe you weren’t coming today.”

As we talked I saw Olga running toward us.  She said hello to Phil and rather than stop and join the conversation like she normally would, she kept on running.  (I loved it!)  I said, “Good morning, Olga.”  Just like Phil, she stopped dead in her tracks and turned around and came back and said, “Is that you Greg?  Where’s your bike?  I didn’t realize that it was you.”

In their defense it was still dark when we passed each other, but there was enough ambient light that we all could make out each other’s faces.

As I walked out I met the older couple from Florida that I had mentioned in my Friday Friends comments.  It was about a quarter after six in the morning when we passed and though the sun was not up there was enough light that that they could see who I was.  We passed and I said hello to them and we each kept walking in opposite directions.  We had maybe 20 feet between us when I heard a voice say, “Hey, aren’t you the bike guy?”  I just had to smile.  We stopped and visited and I explained why I was walking instead of riding.

The same thing happened on Tuesday when I met Mary on the trail.  I wished her a good morning as we passed going in opposite directions.  She muttered something in response and kept walking.  That was totally unlike her.  By the time we met a second time on our return trips on the trail she had figured out who I was.

I previously mentioned that we seek for affiliation and pointed to Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.  The need for affiliation, belonging, and friendship falls immediately above our safety, security, and social stability needs, which is above those basic human physiological needs.  In many respects, what I experienced these two days was evidence of that second tier of needs, that of safety and security.

I recall taking different types of personality inventories and being asked questions about how I related to change.  I never really liked that question because I’ve always heard that people do not like change and I rather like it.  I enjoy seeing new places and I have been somewhat of a change agent in my careers.  However, just like we come to know and accept certain rhythms in life, those rhythms become familiar to us.  When we break those rhythms, or when they become broken for us, then our environment becomes unfamiliar and unstable.  We don’t really know what to expect.  We may not feel in danger, but the need for knowing where we fit into our environment becomes obvious.  This need is as much about familiarity as it is the need for employment, good health, and property.

Consider the following examples.  When you have taken a class where there is no assigned seating, where do you sit on the second and subsequent class meetings?  When you go to church, do you migrate to the family pew?  When you return to an area where you have visited sometime in the past, do you look for familiar landmarks?  Do you sometimes marvel at how things have changed?  Are you satisfied with yourself that you are in the right area when you see a familiar sight?  How do you feel, what passes through your mind when somebody else is sitting in the family pew?  How do you react when you don’t find those familiar landmarks?  How are you in large airport terminals that you have never been to before?  What do you do when you go to a conference or convention in a distant city and there is nobody there that you know and then off in the distance you see a familiar face?

It isn’t so much change that we dislike as it is the lack of familiar surroundings and circumstances.  It is the unknown that brings us discomfort.  Just like our mental and emotional comfort zones we also have our temporal comfort zones as well.  Those temporal comfort zones, those familiar places and circumstances help us to feel safe and secure.  They provide the framework for social and emotional comfort. 

Return with me to my little experiment.  My friends who are accustomed to seeing me in the dark hours of the morning, riding a bicycle, and wearing a bicycle helmet, essentially avoided me until they recognized me.  They only recognized me once I had spoken to them.  Admittedly, my appearance had changed, which goes further to prove the point.  They were not familiar with the person whose appearance was altered.  (I really want to say something cute like they didn’t recognize me with my clothes off, but that doesn’t seem quite right.)  Once they recognized me they stopped and engaged in conversation with me.  I am familiar to them.  They were now comfortable in visiting with the person that they knew, not the stranger they had never seen before.

So, is it change that we are uncomfortable with or do we seek familiar anchors to help us feel safe in our environment?  Would you rather go alone to a foreign land that you have never been to before and where there are different customs and languages or would you rather go with your spouse or close friend who has also never been there?  Perhaps it’s the anchor of familiar surroundings and circumstances that we prefer as opposed to change that we avoid.  Perhaps more of us would willingly embrace change if there was the promise of familiarity attached to it.

Music

Music

Rick Daniel reminded me recently of the role that music plays in my life.  It seems like ever since high school music was never more than a foot-tap away.

I recall taking a music aptitude test in sixth or seventh grade.  “They” would play notes side by side and ask if the second note was higher or lower than the first note.  I didn’t have a clue what that meant.  Nonetheless, thanks to my good friends Richard Miller and Jerry Smith I found myself signed up for band.  The band director put us in a practice room and told us to come out and join the band when we felt we were ready.  That was pretty much the extent of my first and only music lesson on the cornet.  After a few weeks of practice we were feeling pretty sure of ourselves so we made the mistake of coming out of the practice room.  The first piece of music we attempted to play was the William Tell Overture.  I don’t recall if we finished before or after everyone else, but we headed back to the practice room.

Time passed and we eventually did make our way into the last seats of our respective sections.  Jerry played the tenor saxophone and Richard and I played cornets.  While Richard excelled I floundered.  I think that is why the band director switched me to French horn where I could focus on playing after-beats and not do anything else more complicated than that.  He also let me swing the baton around and conduct music once in a while.  I think both band directors we had in high school felt that they had to give me something that I could handle.

Rick Daniel, Jerry Smith, and Richard Miller and I formed a part of a Dixieland Band.  The other founding members were Mike Shaddy (clarinet), and Gary Bruce (baritone saxophone).  I understand that Mike has since passed away.  Rick played a wicked trombone.  Since there was nothing left to play I picked up some drumsticks and beat on an old drum (trap) set.  We called ourselves a couple of different names.  Because we all wore glasses except for Gary Bruce we first settled on The Four-eyed Five Plus Two.  Then Gary found a pair of cheap reading glasses or non-prescription glasses and wore them with the rest of us.  That’s when we called ourselves the Foresights.  I must admit that we were pretty good.  We played a few gigs that kept us feeling important and even got our picture in the local newspaper.  However, it was playing Dixieland music that got me to learn to love that style of music.  Al Hirt, Louis Satchmo  Armstrong, and Bent Fabric (yes, that’s what he called himself) became my musical heroes.  I remember feeling like I had died and gone to heaven when Richard and I met Louis Armstrong.  He had a gold mouthpiece for his trumpet and seriously calloused lips.

It wasn’t just Dixieland music that moved me.  Word got out at church that I could lead music and as a result I found myself frequently substituting for our church chorister.  Later in my adult life I was our congregation’s chorister and choir director.  The highlight of my church music career was to lead our congregation’s choir “at the Civic”.  (That would be our small community’s high school civic auditorium, but it was still “the Civic”.)  I am still called upon from time to time to fill in for a chorister.  While I enjoy swinging my arm around – directing music – I must admit that I find it embarrassing that I cannot sing and therefore find it very difficult to pick a starting note for singing when we lack a pianist or organist.

Rick reminded me of the music of the 60s and 70s.  Those were the days when you could understand the words to the popular music of the time.  Those were the days of the Beatles, Beach Boys, Dave Clark Five, The Kinks, The Byrds, Fleetwood Mac, Peter and Gordon, The Buckinghams, Gary Lewis and the Playboys, and the Detroit Sound (The Four Tops, Supremes, The Spinners, etc.). 

Speaking of the Detroit Sound, every music center had its own sound and you could tell if a song was recorded in Detroit or Memphis or Los Angeles or New York just by listening.  Then there was Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound.  I remember hearing that for the first time and thinking to myself that music had entered a whole new era.  Anyway, my friends and I could sing along with all of them, pretty much like kids can do today.  But, there was other music besides the rock ‘n roll.

There was this thing called folk music.  I’m not sure that it was so much folk music as it was ballads that were being played.  We’re talking about groups like the Kingston Trio, The New Christie Minstrels, Peter, Paul, and Mary.  We’re talking about Tom Dooley hanging his head down and Peter, Paul and Mary asking where all the flowers had gone.  Was it Puff the Magic Dragon that took the flowers?  I don’t think so.  Those were the days of the Hootenanny.  Those were the days when it was first acceptable to sit cross-legged on the grass and sway back and forth to the music and to sing along.  You see, there was this little war going on in Vietnam and there were a lot of protests against the war and much of the music of the time was anti-war music.  It was a perfect combination.  We were a bunch of idealistic and impressionable teenagers caught up in the music and lyrics of the day.  And yet, there we were – a bunch of young teenagers from middle class America in its heartland, one of the most conservative states in the Union at the time.

I’ve never strayed far from music.  I am not like some of my friends, like Clarice Snyder (aka Jane Engleman during those school days) who is over-the-top musically talented, but I do tap my toe when I hear a tune that I like or that brings back memories.  Sometimes I tap my toe when I’m the only one who can hear the music.  And I like just about all genre of music (opera excepted – well, light opera is acceptable). 

I was never really proficient at playing any musical instrument and I certainly have not done anything to improve that situation.  To my credit, I encourage my grandchildren to take an instrument in school and to stick with it.  All five of our children played in their high school band at least for a while.  And, I’ve been plucking on a guitar and ukulele, thanks to Roger Wickers from about 40 years ago and Holly Baxter most recently.  Roger, if you are reading this you will be pleased to learn that I have callouses on my fingertips.  I still am not any good on barre chords and I am beginning to learn how to get into an F-minor and B-flat.  Or is that a B7?  I don’t know, but I really like the sound it makes.  The rest of the B chords are beyond me. (Roger, FYI –  I’m trying to learn how to stretch my fingers apart.  It’s hard.)  Regardless, I’m getting to the point where I can play a handful of songs without looking at the fingers on my left hand.  Not bad for an old guy.  Susan mentioned a 12-string the other day.

Just to show you how warped I am and the influence music has had on my life let me share a simple example with you.  While teaching at the college every now and then a phrase would come out of my mouth that would be the same as a few words in a tune I heard years ago. With little or no notice to my students I would break out into song in class in spite of the fact that I cannot carry a tune in a…well, you know.  I loved the looks I got from befuddled students sitting in front of me, but what were they going to do?  They were a captive audience and had little recourse but to sit and take it.

We have Sirius XM Radio in one of our cars.  It is tuned in to 60s on 6.  I enjoy listening to Phlash Phelps and Cousin Bruce and Pat St. John.  (I can’t stand Peter Noone on the weekends.)  I enjoy traveling down the highway singing along with whoever is singing at the time.  When I’m in the pickup, which doesn’t have the XM radio, I have it tuned in to a 50s and 60s station.  Most of the time Susan is not with me in the pickup so it is not unusual for me to sing a touch louder.  The nice thing about it though is that when I pull up to a red light I see others either singing along to their radios or bobbing their heads in time with the music.  It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one who has a thing about music.

Where was I going with all this?  Oh, yeah, I remember now.  Music.  It has been a part, a big part of my life since my early teen years.  I cannot imagine life without music today.  It reflects so much of life, so much of the feelings and experiences at different times in life. 

Karen and Richard Carpenter sang a song that describes what I’m talking about.

When I was young I'd listen to the radio
Waitin' for my favorite songs
When they played I'd sing along, it made me smile

Those were such happy times and not so long ago
How I wondered where they'd gone
But they're back again just like a long lost friend
All the songs I loved so well

Lookin' back on how it was in years gone by
And the good times that I had
Makes today seem rather sad, so much has changed.

It was songs of love that I would sing to then
And I'd memorize each word
Those old melodies still sound so good to me
As they melt the years away

Every sha-la-la-la
Every wo-o-wo-o, still shines
Every shing-a-ling-a-ling, that they're startin' to sing's, so fine

When they get to the part
Where he's breakin' her heart
It can really make me cry, just like before
It's yesterday once more

Songwriters: JOHN BETTIS, RICHARD LYNN CARPENTER
© Universal Music Publishing Group

You see, there is music for every emotion, for every person, and for every event in life.  Whether it’s on the Eve of Destruction, or the Last Date, there’s a song for that.  If your sweetheart has Lost that Lovin’ Feeling or if you and your date fell asleep at the drive-in movie and you are in trouble deep, there is music go help you get through it.  Should it be the Little Old Lady from Pasadena or if you are Getting Around in your Little Deuce Coupe, you can rev up your engines to the beat of the west coast sound.  When you are trying to tell Michelle, Mary Lou, Peggy Sue, or Oh, Denise that you love her true, there are words and melodies to see you through.  When you experience those tender moments when you are in wonder of How Great God is (How Great Thou Art) or you want to send God’s blessings with a friend Till we Meet Again, someone felt inspired to put those feelings into words and music.  You can always Catch a Falling Star and Put it in your Pocket or Listen to the Rhythm of the Falling Rain to music.  If you are looking for an Octopus’s Garden or want to help Rocky Raccoon, you’ll find Lennon, McCartney, Harrison, and Starr (Starkey) to sing you through it.  If there is any doubt in your mind, I still Dig Rock ‘n Roll Music, but I still like Butterfly Kisses and I see Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain all the time.

Music still makes me want to say “What a Wonderful World”. 

Oh, yeah (or Yeah, Yeah, Yeah, Yea-a-a-a-a-h).

Why I Cannot Vote for Hillary Clinton for President

Not long ago a Facebook friend suggested that I explain why I would not vote for Hillary Clinton for President of the United States. I would like to take that challenge on now.

Before I begin I should explain the two-pronged test I use to determine who I rely upon to provide services to me.  Failure to meet either part of the test will disqualify a person, business, or candidate from consideration.  The two-pronged test is quite simple: Character and Competence.

A person who is competent but lacks character cannot be trusted to provide what is needed to deliver a required service. Though that person may do exceptional work, that person may deliver more than what you need, do shoddy work, or deliver a product or service that is sub-standard or pocket the reward.  This person cannot be trusted to give you an honest answer or honest work.

A person who can be trusted, who has good moral character may not necessarily be capable of delivering the needed service. However, this person will at least tell you if he or she can provide what is needed.

What I look for is a person who has good moral character (honest) AND who is capable. With that as a prelude, let me explain why I cannot support Hillary Clinton for President.

First of all, I dismiss much of the hyperbole we see floating around on social media and I find the reporting by the so-called network and cable "news" media inexcusable. The likes of CNN, FOX, ABC, MSNBC and so forth are no more interested in reporting facts than I am interested in attending a hula hoop exhibition. They merely take words and acts out of context and put their own spin on events and feed it to the public as fact.  Then there is the fringe element that puts forth various conspiracy theories, back their theories with faulty information and reasoning, and propose doomsday scenarios.  And now that we are in the post-convention phases of the campaigns with the candidates of the two major parties selected we will begin to see grainy, unflattering, and grotesque pictures of opposing candidates with even more non-contextual statements. It is only going to go downhill from here. Unfortunately, the print media is no better than the electronic media.  And, please don't get me started on celebrity endorsements.

However, there is an occasional silver lining to be found in the all-out mud fest. Every now and then honest journalism creeps through and the media let the candidates speak for themselves. I relish those opportunities. What I relish even more is firsthand information.

Before I can begin to evaluate proposed policy positions of the candidates I want to know if I can trust them. I apply the Martin Luther King "content of their character" litmus test to candidates. I am still working on Donald Trump, but I have already made up my mind on Clinton.

First, there is the Benghazi Event. Whether or not she stalled or stammered in addressing security concerns is not the issue.  Well, it is an issue as it deals with competence, but right now I am looking only at character. The issue with me is that she lied to the American public about what led up to the attack.

Secondly, there is the private email server. Whether or not she used a private email server or not is not the issue.  Well, again it is an issue as it deals with competence, but as I already said, right now I'm looking only at character. We all heard her testify before a Congressional committee that she did not send or receive email that was marked classified at the time. And whether or not a person in her position should recognize classified material even if it is not marked again is not the issue. (Well, it is as it goes to the competence test again, but I’m not going there right now.)  We all heard the FBI director say that documents marked as classified were found on her email server. The issue with me is that she lied to the American public.  We also heard her say that all her emails had been turned over for review. Now we recently learned that there have been another 13,000 - 15,000 discovered emails. She lied.

Third is her conduct behind closed doors. Let me preface this with a little background information.  In my law enforcement career I had the opportunity to be with several state and national political leaders. I've eaten meals with Congressman Manuel Lujan (R) and Senator Pete Domenici (R) (I always got personally signed Christmas cards from Pete). I knew Congressman/UN Ambassador Bill Richardson (D) before he was thrust onto the national and international stage.  I knew New Mexico Governor Bruce King (D), he knew me by name and he initiated personal correspondence to me.  I've walked and talked with foreign dignitaries and ambassadors.  (I also spent the better part of a day with President Bill Clinton, but that's another story.  Let’s just say that I washed my hands as quickly as I could after he left.)  Always, and I mean always what I saw in these politicians in private was the same demeanor, conduct, and language that I saw in public.

I am sorry to say that Hillary Clinton is a Jekyll and Hyde when it comes to her public persona and behind the scenes behavior. I have never seen such demeaning conduct toward aides as what she does to hers. I do not use the profanity by which she addresses her Secret Service detail. I have never seen a politician look down on others the way she looks down on others in private. I have known Secret Service agents assigned to work with her and they cannot wait to get away from her.  Her back room language is worse than that of a drunken sailor.  She is a coarse, profane, and abrasive prima donna.

And then there was the security assistance that my criminal justice students provided when she made a visit to our campus. It is traditional for a major politician to shake hands with the locals who provide service of one type or another during a visit. At the conclusion of her visit to our campus, the volunteers lined up ready to shake hands and exchange brief pleasantries. When she got to my students she looked down at their ID cards identifying them as Criminal Justice students, and said, "Humph. Criminal Justice students. I don't need you." She then walked past all my students and literally sneered at them.  Needless to say, I did not even get in line as I already knew where the meet and greet was going to go. I could not believe what I saw as students, once infatuated with her stood with their hands extended as she walked past them.  Do not ask me to tell you what she called them when my students were out of earshot.

Unlike many Americans I occasionally communicate with elected officials by mail. I have done so on a few occasions with then Senator Clinton. My brief requests for support of particular bills before the Senate were always rebuffed with multiple page responses telling me why my position was wrong. Obviously the responses were written by staffers and had been written well in advance of my letters. But summary dismissal of a constituent's position seemed so irresponsible.  Her responses were not even preceded with a “thank you for writing and sharing your view”.

So, there you have it. I applied the "content of character test" to Hillary Clinton and she failed. Even if her stated policies were perfect (if she had competence) for our nation I could not vote for her. I trust her as much as I trust a sunning rattlesnake.

I cannot in good conscience vote for Hillary Clinton.

(This does not mean that I will vote for Donald Trump.)