Thursday, January 23, 2003

What about Mike?

The strangest things can take you back, can’t they. A couple of weeks ago I was watching Boyer Valley get beaten by the West Harrison Hawkeyes and something sent me back to L.A.

I was doing my best to ignore the perennial emotional melodramas that cheerleaders seem to have to go through. It was just to hard to concentrate to much on the game since we were down by twenty points. So of all things I started noticing the back of some kid’s head.

Mind you, I’m not in the habit of looking at the backs of kids’ heads. It was a basketball player with a shaved head. It reminded me of Mike’s head.

Mike Merrill was an incredibly tall kid with a shaved head like this West Harrison kid, only taller. He had an Adam’s apple and a bit of a slouch so that he kind of reminded you of one of those cartoon vultures in Disney movies. In spite of that, he wasn’t a scrawny kid. Mike was pre-enlisted to become a Marine.

Mike’s Dad was in the Corps. Mike’s Grandpa served in Korea. Nobody could remember his first name, he was known only as “Sarge.” Sarge came to all of Mike’s Football games . We didn’t have a regulation length field, so we played our games on Saturday afternoons at the Baptist high school. Sarge sat in the hot California sun in his lawn chair with a beach umbrella to protect his white flat-top.

Sarge came to junior high games too since Mike’s little sister was a cheerleader. Friday evenings when the wind blew through the foothills it could make you shiver. Sarge would remind us that we didn’t know real cold if we didn’t fight in Korea. I knew as a history teacher that he knew what he was talking about. Each winter campaign from 1950-53 rivaled WWII’s Battle of the Bulge for the brutal cold and grueling storms.

My Dad was fortunate. When he was in the Marines during the Korean War, he was stationed on an air craft carrier in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. His dad was too old for active service during WWII, so he worked in the aircraft factories outside of Detroit. My Mom’s Dad served in the Navy in the Aleutian Islands. I, thank God was born during Vietnam, rather than 17 years earlier.

Military service never really occurred to me. Most of my generation was expected to go from high school to college, even if it was a two year college, it was an unspoken rule, an assumed expectation. No doubt just as military service, at least was National Guard service was an unspoken expectation of the generations before mine.

I’d seen several student enter the Army or Marine Corps before Mike Merrill. Usually they came back to Homecoming different, more respectful, more responsible, more poised, men. Andrew Beyang was a Malaysian-American student who became a Ranger in the First Airborne. He came back to my U.S. History class with a recruiting sergeant to talk about basic training. They actually showed video footage of soldiers throwing up after a poison gas endurance test. What a way to win over volunteers.

Last summer I received an email from a college classmate in Nebraska. Tom was joining the reserves. He said that after 9/11 he felt like he had to do something. He had always been into Civil War reenactment, so I figured he was in good enough shape to hack it. The last time I’d seen him he was working on his Master’s and he was an inspiring teacher , so I figure they’ll make him an officer. Still, it seemed odd to me.

“You’re 32 years old,” I thought, “you have two little kids at home. Are you nuts? A weekend-a-month, a month-a-year? Aren’t you spread thin enough between Church and school and coaching and reenactments? Besides, we’re at war, sort of, with these weird terrorists, you could, well, die.”

But I didn’t tell him that. I told him I admired him. I thanked him for service and sacrifice and I meant it, but I can’t help paying closer attention to the news when the latest troop mobilizations are announced. He’s a dear friend. How can I not worry.

The last I’d heard Mike Merrill was stationed in Okinawa, Japan. But where are Justin, Andrew, Rick, and any of the other kids I’ve taught over the years? Who says Okinawa is safe, just because it’s not in the Persian Gulf? It’s probably less than 600 miles from Soul, Korea.

When Tom and I were in elementary school we were scared to death of a nuclear war. I thought that fear had died along with the Soviet Union. Now, it seems that North Korea may have missiles capable of targeting the western United States.

As a high school student in the eighties I naively longed for the controversy of the sixties and seventies, but by college I was glad that I wasn’t faced with having to fight or take a stand in opposition to the Vietnam War. I’m still amazed at what good friends my uncles are. One who was a medic in Vietnam and one who fled to Canada.

I don’t doubt that Saddam Hussein is a genuine threat and I certainly don’t approve of dictatorships, but I’m not convinced that some of our current President’s rhetoric hasn’t been reckless. I think that positive, proactive engagement is always more productive than broad threats and angry assertions. And we may not be hypocritical imperialists like so many pacifists accused us of being during Vietnam, but I can sure see how half the Arab world might see us that way, while we support one nation’s dictator while staging a “pre-emptive” war to oust another.

So here we are, U.N. weapons inspector Hans Blix reports to the U.N. Security Council this Monday, Jan. 27. Many analysts, pundits, and experts expect that to be when President Bush makes the decision of Mike Merrill’s life. At least 60 to 250,000 American troops, Men, Women, boys and girls may be about to go to war. The first Gulf War took place in February too.

I think we should support our troops and pray for them like we did during the first Gulf War. Vietnam Vets didn’t deserve all of the hatred and anger unleashed on them upon their return home. But war isn’t something we should be enthusiastic about and we shouldn’t support our political leaders blindly.

All I know is, I wish all that Mike Merrill had to worry about was still where to take his cheerleader girlfriend for a date after the game.

Thursday, January 16, 2003

As I was saying

As I was saying... (say, that would’ve been a good title for the column. “Ted’s Column” is so plain. I thought about “Mallory’s Mind,” but I decided that was to pretentious.)

As I was saying... sex, politics, and religion are difficult to talk about without offending people, but I think they’re the most important things to write about. Last month, one of my students wrote an editorial for our school newspaper. His opinion was that student’s should think twice before becoming too sexually active as teens. He cited an article in Newsweek that noted that sexually transmitted diseases are a huge risk, even if you don’t “score,” but are only getting to “third base.” The student author, without making any religious or moral judgment, shared his opinion that sex should NOT be considered just another leisure activity.

You would not BELIEVE how many students were outraged that we’d print such a thing. One even threatened to drag me before the school board unless I told her the name of the student who wrote it.

She said to me “Well, how would you feel about it if someone wrote something against God or something?”

I was thinking to myself, “so sex is YOUR god?” What I said was something more along the lines of...

“There are more than 6.5 Billion people on the planet right now, I doubt that more than a third of those are Christian, so what? So no one should publish anything if SOMEONE somewhere might be offended by it?”

What followed was an invigorating discussion about the first amendment. That’s an opportunity I hadn’t had since I taught U.S. History, so I relished it.

My point is, I hope I haven’t offended too many of you with my column, and I hope I don’t in the weeks to come. Chances are, I already have and I probably will. Please write in and tell us. Challenge my thinking, express yourself. This is YOUR community newspaper, you ought to participate in it. I know Mike Lyon, our publisher will enjoy it if you do. We love to print letters to the editor.

As I was saying... or was just about to say last week. Ellie wasn’t sure what to make of the holidays. It seemed like the celebrating would never end. But why don’t I let her tell it:

Holiday Hullabaloo By Ellen Mallory

First of all, what’s the deal with my big people dressing me up in a bee suit so that I can hardly move and hauling me around from neighbor to neighbor so my big sister, Gracie could collect candy? The whole thing bored me, I fell asleep after the second neighbor.

Thanxgetting was fun. I grew two more teeth and learned how to crawl down stairs. All the big people did was eat and sleep and watch other people play games on TV. I don’t know what they were all eating. I ate cat food. Mommy and Aunt Brenda didn’t want me to eat cat food. I don’t know what the big deal was. I saw kitty eat lots of big people food.

Then my Greatest-Pappa Adolph’s turned something called “eighty.” He didn’t look like he turned anything. I got to dance with my because-ins in the doorway of a rest n’ rant.

Then we all stood in line for a long time to see this scary old man called Sanity Claws. He already knew my name even though I’d never had met him afore. And he was all dressed in red and wanted to put me on his lap. Excuse me? I don’t think so. Daddy laughed and said I must be Claus-traphobic. I still don’t get it.

Pretty soon my big people said it was my turn to turn something. They said I turned something called “won.” I must have won because all of my because-ins brought me prizes. I liked the ribbons and bows, but I wasn’t very interested in unwrapping them.

So then my big people put this big huge colorful thing in front of me. “Now what?” I thought. Eventually I figured out you could eat it AND paint with it too. That was great. My big people took lots of pictures of me eating my big colorful thing. That was after all my because-ins sang at me. Plus I got a big ball that floats up to the ceiling. It stayed by the ceiling for a long time.

After my Gracie and my because-ins and me played with a baby sitter. I didn’t see her sit on any babies, she just played with us. I guess my Grammy and Pappa have a really old wedding or something because they had a partly to celebrate their four teeth Annie first story.

Daddy said it was neat because somebody said, “Well, I guess we’ve run around together and our folks ran around together and their folks ran around together for near a hundred years.” Daddy said that’s one of the things that’s so neat about this town.

Anyway everybody there must have turned won because Grammy gave them all a prize. The flu, only first she got it first. I got it too and that wasn’t any fun. Mommy and Daddy thought I was getting more teeth onna count of how my bottom turned red. I got to drink this stuff called Petey-light instead of formula. It was purple.

Uncle Mark says its funny how our famlee always gets flu on Christmas time.

Before that though my because-in Nolan turned something too. Something called five. He got cool prizes like toy tractors. I like to play with his green tractors. I make them say Shhhhpppzzzzzzzfg. Our Greatest Grandma Cuddles thinks everybody at a party should get prizes. Daddy thought only Nolan should have gots prizes at Nolans party. Daddy says its no use cause you can’t tell an old German anyting.

Then Mommy and Daddy stopped going away in the morning. I liked that. One day we all went to Grammy and Pappa’s farm and all our because-ins were there too. Everybody got lots and lots of prizes and ate lots and lots too.

Then HE came. That Sanity Claws again. He came to my Grammy and Pappa’s farm! How did he know where they live? He’s scary.

He gave people prizes and they laughed and Pappa wanted me to go see Sanity Claws again. I struggled as much as I could to get away. I arched my back to try to break free. Now Pappa likes to call me “Archie” since I arched my back.

One of the best things about Christmas is that they grow a whole tree right in your house. Overnight. You wake up one morning and there it is. I like to pick the shiny fruit off of our inside tree. But you can’t eat it. In fact Mommy and Daddy take it away from you every time and put it back on the tree only higher so you can’t reach it.

I think I heard Daddy singing about it, “The first Noel-en, No!.”

Only I fixed them. One day when daddy was reading and Gracie was playing with one of her prizes, I grabbed onto a branch and pulled the inside tree down so I could reach the shiny fruit on top. Most of them broke. Daddy made me sit in a big chair while he picked up all the broken shiny fruit. He said something about a “time-out.”

Anyway, I know I didn’t hurt it too bad, because When I woke up the next morning, it had grown lots and lots of prizes under it! But a day later it was gone.

My Grandma Mallory says when Uncle Bart was my age he beat their inside-tree up with a broom because he was so scared of it. I heard Gracie say that the prizes under the tree came from Sanity Claws, so I think Uncle Bart was right to be so ascared. Anyway, we haven’t had a tree inside our house since the day after Christmas.

The End.

Thursday, January 09, 2003

Sex, Politics, and Religion

A few people have asked me, “how do you decide what to write about?” Last week it was by turning on the news in the morning and hearing the startling claim that humans had been cloned.

Most weeks I would have to answer with the old English teacher’s question; “why do writers write?” Ideas just come and I need to get them out. I either write about it, or bore my students I suppose.

A compliment was passed on to me about the column recently. Someone had mentioned that they thought it was good to have someone writing about religion and politics “and things like that” in our newspaper- Thus this week’s headline.

They’re the three things we aren’t supposed to talk about in polite company, but if you don’t what else is there to talk about? In high school, things like cars, stereos, bands, and sports facts didn’t stick in my mind long enough or well enough to be able to carry on a conversation very well with most of my peers. I watched CNN like other guys watched ESPN.

Here, I’m at even more of a conversational disadvantage. I don’t know much about agriculture and even after living here two years (and being married-into the community for 12) I still can’t remember everybody’s names, faces, families, jobs, spouses, kids illnesses and histories. How do you keep track of everybody?

So, should we just talk about the weather? Been nice. Got colder lately. Yep, Mm Hmm.

Mind you, one has to be CAREFUL how one discusses sex, politics, and religion.

I know a woman who lives in a mostly Catholic town, she drew up Methodist but she’s taking classes to become a Lutheran Pastor (ELCA, not LCMS.) Did I mention that she’s served as a Labor Union representative for contract negotiations? She is also the mother of triplets!

There. I talked about all three, sex, politics, AND religion, all in one paragraph. You may not like unions, you may not think women should be pastors, but the fact that I’m aquatinted with she and her husband shouldn’t offend you. Does it? Will you forgive me and continue to read this column? I sure hope so.

Thank you for reading. And thank you to those of you who have either said something to me in person or who’s comments or complements have gotten around to me second or third hand.

I’ve always wanted a chance to do this, so it means a lot to me if you enjoy it. I hope I’ve given you some chuckles, made you think about something in a new way, or maybe even tugged your heart string once in a while.

I also want to say thank you to all you expatriates. We have many, many readers outside of Ute and Charter Oak. Thank you Herb Neddermeyer for sending us your thank you a few weeks ago. Herb has been renewing his subscription for decades. How’s the weather in Fairfield, California Herb?

Herb, I was thinking about you while I watched the Rose Parade from Pasadena last week. That sapphire and cobalt blue sky must be due to all the rain you’ve been having. Then it started snowing during the bowl games and I remembered how beautiful our rolling hills are around here, like a painting most days. You really don’t know what you’re missing if you haven’t been back “home” lately, Herb.

There, now I’ve talked about the weather AND sports. All I needed was some practice. Hello to ALL the folks who no longer live in the area, but still read the NEWSpaper.

We have cousins, originally from Ricketts that live near Charter Oak, California. Then there are all you folks who moved away when you retired or when you went to college. Hello to you, and thanks for reading. On Tuesdays, when they stuff and fold and label these papers, it’s fun to think about the distant places they’re mailed to.

Hello to all you college kids. I’ve always felt that you’re not just graduates of COU, you’re alumni of the towns too. I hope you keep in touch and think of Charter Oak and Ute as places to come back to, not just places to get away from. When you dorove home for break this year, did you see the lights they put on the Ute sign on the east side of town? Cute huh? Hey, did you ever stop to think that you can’t even say “cute,” without saying “Ute?”

How can I forget to say hello to Aunt Marylin and Uncle Mike? She saves all her NEWSpapers and makes sure to pass them along so the whole family gets to read them.

You should know that I actually thought about naming this column “Sex, Politics, and Religion,” but I was afraid that might scare some people off. I was going to just call it “The Column,” but I thought that was too generic. By the way, thank you to the gentleman who wrote to “Ted Lyon.” Mike Lyon is the publisher, he’s much taller than I am.

One of my New Year’s resolutions was to try to make these columns shorter, they always end up being about one page typed. But many people make suggestions.

Jackie likes it when I write about my daily commute to Dunlap on L51. Of course, Boyer Valley has been on Christmas Break, same as COU, so I haven’t been able to drive it, let alone write about it.

My brother-in-law Mark was waiting to see my daughter Ellie show up in the column. But two things have just happened, I just got to the end of this page and she just woke up from her nap and has started dismantling the den.

You’ll just have to read about her Christmas misadventures next week.

Friday, January 03, 2003

Brave New World

Happy New Year, welcome to the future. No, you’re awake, you’re not dreaming and you’re not hung over from your New Year’s Eve celebrating. You’re really here, in the twenty-first century. Worst of all, there’s no going back in time. Like Buck Rogers, you’re stuck in the future, you have been for a couple years now.

No, no flying cars yet, maybe your kids are talking to their friends on their Visa-Phone though. They call it a “web-cam,” the technology hasn’t quite caught up to what we used to see on the Jetson’s or Star Trek, but it’s getting there. Hungry? Throw some pre-prepared, vitamin-fortified, chemically-preserved breakfast into your microwave; what would’ve taken your Grandma all morning can be done in two minutes.

I just checked the news on my personal home computing station. The 24 hour world news services are reporting that Bishop Boisselier of the Raelian church held a press conference to report that they have successfully cloned the first human. They call her “Eve.” I don’t know if that’s just ironic, in homage, or straight-out blasphemous.

Many was the time when I was bad when y folks would tell me, “you’re gonna have children some day, and I hope they behave just like you!” God help Clone-Eve’s Mommy, she really WILL be EXACTLY like her. Who knows, maybe when she gets older she’ll run off and join a cult that believes that all life on Earth was started by the bio-engineering of Extra-Terrestrials and get pregnant with their experiment too.

I guess the ultimate goal of the Raelians is to live forever. They want to continue their experiments till they can clone a fully matured adult body and transfer their brains from their old, worn out human body, into their new and improved clone body. But anyone who’s ever used a Xerox machine knows that a copy of a copy is never as crisp as the original.

Ethicists, philosophers, theologians, and Star Wars & Star Trek aficionados have all been wresting with this one for a while. Do clones have souls? Are clones monsters? Are they entitled to equal protection under the law? Fifty years from now, will a Senate Majority leader have to step down for having supported clone segregation? Does Roe v. Wade mean it’s legal to abort clones? Would that be a sin, though?

What if a clone’s parents get divorced, who gets custody? Is your clone your child or your twin? If your clone starts dating your spouse behind your back, will it get you on the Jerry Springer Show? If you disown your clone, does that mean you hate yourself? How many clones will end up in therapy? Who can they blame for their problems? Not their mother- their cell-donor?

When Clone-Eve is in High School, will she object if her literature teacher requires her to read ‘The Boys From Brazil?’ Can clones believe in God? If a clone wins the Powerball lottery, does she have to share it with herself- I mean , her donor.

Will Diane Sawyer and ABC News have a holiday follow-up show about Clone-Eve’s life every year like they do on the Dilly Sextuplets? Will Formula and Diaper companies donate a year’s supply of baby care needs for Eve and her donor?

It’s too much to ponder. Let’s think about the future instead. What will 2003 hold in store? I have some predictions!

I predict that we’ll go to war in Iraq by February. Gas prices will soar, but just like Osama Bin Ladden, I predict that Saddam Hussein will get away and be a bur in our saddle for years to come.

I predict that the North Koreans will try to get our goat, but that it will blow over. Best case scenario- their people get sick of staring and Korea reunites like Germany did. Worst case scenario- thirty more years of unresolved tension.

I predict that poor Powerball winner Andrew Jackson “Jack” Whittaker will have to deal with a helluva lotta phoe calls from friends he never knew he had.

I predict that racism and civil rights will become a serious issue again. We may even end up with as tense a time as in the 1960’s. Homelessness, joblessness and economic stratification may be serious problems too. Other problems to watch for will be internet porn and addictive video games, not to mention internet gambling.

I predict that the bugs are only going to be worse next summer if we don’t get some serious winter soon.

I predict that there will be tremendous partisan bickering in Des Moines over another budget crisis.

I resolve not to worry about any of it. In fact, one of my New Year’s resolutions was not to pay attention to media pundits like know-it-all columnists who try to predict things. I suggest you make that resolution too.

The Raelians are probably just trying to get attention. If and when someone clones a human, it probably won’t live long or well. I mean, what have you hear about that sheep “Dolly” lately? What was the line from the Godzilla movie theme song? “Nature has proved again and again the folly of men.”

Besides, here we are in the twenty-first century already, we haven’t been to Mars, we haven’t cured the common cold, we haven’t been back to the moon for thirty years, and where’s the flying cars? I KNEW back when I was watching the Jetson’s that by the time I grew up, I’d get to drive a flying car. Where’s MY flying car? Have you got yours?

Happy New Year, welcome to the future.