Drinking the Kool-Aid Again

Naivete – well less be honest,  rationale stupidity

We drank the kool aid in the 1960’s when newly minted automobiles broke down before 50,000 miles.  Housing roofs leaked at the 1st major storm. Refrigerators shutdown and defrosted while under warranty.  American quality control was an international joke. The Japanese and Germans flooded the auto market with cars which didn’t creak, had air tight windows, and engines which ran and ran and ran.

The trade unions pledged a quality revolution.. more training of employees. Uncle Sam installed quality standards. Contractors created warranties.” We stand behind our products” became the refrain”.  Oh yes, new, customer friendly return policies… bring it back to the store- no questions asked ( but make sure you have a receipt).

We drank the Kool Aide … agreeing to a home contractor’s pledge of a pre purchase inspection… a day before settlement.  Smiles, handshakes all around.

How long is the list?? How much reading time to you have: Here’s a few: a door missing – yes a door missing!  a nonoperative garage door! non functioning air conditioning! shower heads not installed! misrepresentation of financial terms! incomplete banking arrangements!  etc etc etc.

Accepted practices- apparently.  the buying public generally says -mediocre quality is ok. Fix the problems when you have time ( a recipe for ongoing deadlines which are not met). And so it goes with cars, appliances, customer service from bankers, hospitals who are driven by profit rather than patient care.

Why? Why do we tolerate 2nd rate  performance?.  Perhaps we should look in the mirror. Do we, as individuals care enough to do our very best. Or just enough to collect a pay check?  Can we look our friends  in the eye and  proclaim today’s work effort meets with the gold seal of approval?  Be honest.

When did we begin handing our “participation awards” given to teens for merely showing up – not winning or excelling? Mediocrity begins here.  How about ‘perfect attendance awards”?- if you can breathe and walk you get an award . Never mind your excellence of effort and participation?

Reflect- if our fore fathers did just enough when building log houses? Winter time death on their door step.  Cutting corners – not an option.  Only the best (and luckiest survived)

 

 

 

SCHINDLER’S LIST REVISITED

Warm, pleasant fall breezes waft through restored Old Town Warsaw.  Soothing the revisited city where World War II encircled and destroyed the Warsaw Ghetto. Listen closely and the pounding of jack knifed boots resound; tank tracks remain in a church wall, stone pavements speak.

American expatriates we pay our zlotys and visit the Russian era cinema. Cement block walls. Chairs  sturdily bolted to the floor. Monochrome interior. Crowd control was paramount.

Schindler’s list. Americans knew the story, the plot, the angst. Poles – a history lesson heretofore not shown on the big screen. Decades since the holocaust.

What is the Polish audience expecting.

Many families lived through denial that the holocaust happened. Fiction. Not possible in Poland.

The cinematic tale rolls on. Couples hold onto each other. Eyes frozen. Buildings so familiar flash on the screen. The girl in the little red dress – sniffles.  Poles turning on Poles helping the Germans. Neighbors killed. Denial..

Two hours of a constant knife turning. Public horror. National humiliation.

The End.

The movie house shakes with weeping. No one looks at their neighbor. Weeping. Yes, the building literally shakes. Exit. Heads bowed. More tears. Walking into the dark street of this proud city. Silence.  I weep as I write this many years later.As a Catholic I remain stunned by how we turned our back on the weakest of the weak.

” Schindler’s List’ was mentioned at a gathering here in the USA last week. Touching discussion about the holocaust and the War.  Very academic. Faces and eyes reflect compassion, a historic understanding.

And..those who died in the Warsaw Ghetto and its environs were not our neighbors, our friends, those who we denied. History must not repeat itself. And yet there is Rwanda.

Let us be careful how we analyze history.  The phrase ” Never Again” is alive.

 

 

 

 

 

QUIETUDE,SILENCE

Known by all; recognized by no one

Black hat, black shirts/pants. black shoes

An aura of indigo surrounds ,indeed envelopes

 

Quietude, silence, nary a sound

Emanates from the black soled sneakers

Sneakers, hmm. does the purveyor of the future walk?

Glide? Fly?

Enveloped in a heretofore undescribed mist?

 

The grim reaper? A life guardian in disguise?

A harbinger of the future

Appears in dreams, rainbow clouds at sunset

during our meditational reflections.

 

What do we hear? Soft blowing winds

See? Perhaps reflections of our self

Smell? Fragrant scents of life?

 

Sometimes tactile, as hands caressing our arms

Blood pressure reacts –  rushing waters

Reality or imaginary? We are in control of our mind’s eye

 

Our reactions? Hope, energizing, fear? Combination thereof.

 

When does the reaper 1^st appear?

Events of physical prowess

All parts functioning.  Gleeful physical freedom

Telling us of the future to be enjoyed, cherished

Encouraging forward thrusts.

 

Or when we can’t quite grasp words

Memory lapses

Legs ache, hearing strains

The beginning ot the end

The message – cherish remaining days

Or fear the inevitable?

 

Listen, The Great I am will lead.

 

 

 

 

HOME AGAIN

 

 

Testing beliefs. Questioning traditions.

 

Exploring long held tenants

 

Reflections in life’s mirrors – accurate?

 

Challenging the premise-“ You can never go home again”

 

Or can I?

 

 

Decades old, well preserved Lane Trunk awaits.

 

Indexed boxes: USB drives, Kodak photo carousels,

 

bulky photo albums, Middle Eastern trinkets

 

all combine to paint a collage of an exceptional life.

 

Family secrets hidden between the pages.

 

Triumphs,

 

Tear stained memories.

 

Trophies

 

An international life.

 

Wanting to share with new neighbors

 

 

Foreign to most Americans

 

Cocktail parties

 

Gated community

 

Amish farm manure smells

 

Listening skills ;smile:

 

Common threads; search, affirm, smile:

 

Accept tales of grandchildren, politics, lore

 

Patient, commonalities rather than divisiveness.

 

Question, ask, explore.

 

Avoid talking about international cultures, places, experiences

 

Who cares?

 

Perhaps the couple in the same pew.

 

Smile

 

Assimilation defined – be patient. Smile

 

 

Suffering’s Blessing

Suffering is the end of the beginning

An entryway into the next life

Embraceble

Feared and accepted

Turbulent

Peaceful

The struggle to cross God’s threshold

Combining acceptance with strength

 

Our last look at family and friends

A first glance at God

Brussels Revisited

 

The Grand Place in Brussels

Stately Guild Houses, Godiva Chocolate

Trappist Beer on the veranda

A nation of two languages

Classic carpets in churches, museums

Culture, class, history

Monica Pis, puppet shows

Live nativity in the square

The EU, NATO

Once an admired city

 

Now overwhelmed, in flames

Discordant neighborhoods

Clashes of cultures

Muslim tribes creating a 3^rd nation

Judeo-Christian values receding

Fear replaces unanimity

Haute contour replaced by burkes

Rosary replaced by the minaret call to prayer

The decline and fall of Belgian civilization?

NON FUNCTIONING CUSTOMER SERVICE

Display patience

Slow to anger

Tolerate mediocrity

Everyone excels: no one fails.

 

Political correctness,

Acceptance of functional ignorance

America declines into the dark morass

 

Decision making which requires more than 1 step

Impossible

Write a check AND use a credit card at the cashier

Impossible

Takes up to 45 minutes – check your receipt.

 

Text messages from pharmacy central instructs

us to call a 1-877 number – customer service

Non sequester

Rep has no clue: tells us to call local store

Local store has no clue

Neither can stop unsolicited text messages.

 

The phrase “ Not my job” comes to mind

Translated : no accountability, no responsibility

 

Trained to be humanoid robots

Customer service reps begin by “ Can I help you”?

(when they know they will not help you)

End non productive conversations “ Have a nice day”.

(when I know they don’t care).

Bright side – tomorrow is another day

 

 

Ivy Leagues,Standford,Oxford

 

Full face smiles abound

A chatty hi from all

Energized oversized waves

Couples in lock step move on

Up the forest trails

 

All appear sincere, genuine

Greeting the new arrivals

Welcome to the 55+community

 

The mundane follows

Where are you from?

How long have you been here?

Like it?

Those with Midwestern roots posit

comments about the weather.

 

What makes this place different?

Why the unsolicited rave reviews?

Behind the waves is a universal effort

A desire to substantively chat

The drive to find common ground or

alternatively recognize differences

and move on.

Intellect, achievement, raison d’etre

are important.

A full day of not discussing the Packers

Or the weather.

 

Multisyllabic vocabularies

Refreshing.

Met 3 guys who have read C S Lewis.

Refreshing.

 

Coming Home

Fried Scrapple

Warm, soft chewy pretzels

Mennonite women with caps and long skirts

Catholic priests who laugh, pound the pulpit

Hug their flock

Much has changed in Pennsylvania Dutch Country

HOWEVER

Store keepers, teachers, role models

Here in the hinterlands

God’s country remains intact.

Born in the USA

 

 

 

 

GOODBYE DEAR FRIEND

The Lord is everywhere:

Steel gray clouds

Snow, Ice pellets in a crescendo

Crunching snow foretells our every step

The Lord has set the stage.

Oh yes, he knows our every move, every thought, every emotion.

HE knows we are coming.

The morose, gray atmosphere envelopes

the cemetery.

Silence, alone.

 

Fear heaving in our chest cavity.

Harold and Jean’s gravesite awaits

 

Somehow Harold knows we are coming.

Fifteen years gone by.. he knows we are coming.

He waited. As always patient and understanding.

He knew I had, yes had, to come and say goodbye.

Facing the pain of the moment.

 

The knees weaken

Tears flow

I grab for the tombstone

O Harold I cry, O Harold.

The father I never had,.that was Harold

A man of God

Harold knows.

We are together for a brief moment

God enables us to hold each other

God’s grace. Hold me Harold. I remember your hugs, your smiles

your words of wisdom, and your good works for the poor.

One last time.

The most difficult goodbye.

 

I turn to Al.. knowing I could not have

met with Harold without fear of collapsing

and having Al for support.

The Lord gives Al the grace to be a comforter

And so we silently walk

Chocking

Hoping to meet Harold in the afterlife.

May he rest in the arms of the Lord.