Tag Archives: Thanksgiving

Time to suspend politics

political-debate

The business card I have been handing out for some time now talks about High Plains Blogger’s intent, which is to comment on “politics, current events and life experience.”

Well, dear reader, I’ve made a command decision regarding this blog.

I am suspending the “politics” part of this blog’s mission effective on Thanksgiving Day. My intention is to stay out of the political dialogue through Christmas. Heck, I might be inclined to wait until New Year’s Day before re-entering the fray.

Why the change?

I am weary of the anger and the nonsense that’s coming out of the mouths of all the presidential candidates … in both major political parties. What’s more — and this is even more to the point — I am weary of the back-and-forth that has ensued, not just among the candidates but also among their legions of supporters and opponents.

I’ve at times entered the fray with my own commentary, only to be sniped at by those who disagree with me. I don’t mind the disagreement. I’ve merely had it up to here with the anger that such commentary — not just from me — has engendered in partisans on both side of the aisle.

So, High Plains Blogger is going to take a breather from all of that.

Will this blog comment on current events as they occur? Certainly. It will not, though, engage in the political discourse that emanates from those events. And by all means the blog will comment on life experience, both personal and of things the author — that would be me — observes on his journey.

Rest assured on this point: I am not giving up totally on politics cold turkey. I will continue to comment on politics through my Twitter and Facebook feeds.

I do not intend to use this blog as a forum to state my own political bias. The way I figure it, Twitter only gives me 140 characters to make a statement. That’s efficient and doesn’t require too much emotional energy on my part; plus, my tweets are posted automatically to my Facebook feed, so — pow! just like that — I’m able to perform a two-fer.

But I’m also thinking of scaling back significantly the political commentary on those two social media outlets. Nor am I going to argue any point.

So, those of you who spend a lot of time engaging others in political debate and name-calling on social media are welcome to knock yourselves out; I will not join you in that exercise in futility.

Here’s my final thought on all of this.

Thanksgiving is a time to give thanks for all that we have. I am grateful beyond measure for the many blessings in my life. Christmas? Well, that is the time we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. What more can I say about that?

In keeping with the Christmas spirit, I hereby refuse to be dragged into the emotional gutter by politicians whose mission is to distort the other guys’ world view.

Thanksgiving is almost here. High Plains Blogger will stay in the game for a little while longer.

After that? I’ll see you on the other side.

 

Time for ‘kinder, gentler’ America

myrna

Myrna Raffkind writes frequently for the Amarillo Globe-News.

Her most recent opinion column appeared in today’s paper. I don’t subscribe to the paper; thus, I don’t see its online edition.

A Facebook friend posted Myrna’ column on his news feed. I picked it up and want to share it here.

If you have a moment, take some time read it. Myrna is one of the more thoughtful and, yes, “kinder and gentler” people I’ve ever known.

***

“An eye for an eye ends up making the whole world blind.”
— Mahatma Gandhi

After Dylann Roof’s mass shooting at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in June in South Carolina, the major focus of media attention was on the display/removal of the Confederate flag and the controversy surrounding this issue. Scarcely noticed was another incident following the shooting; this incident being the reaction of the victim’s families when they were allowed to address Roof at the bond hearing. Over and over, the victim’s family members sent the same response — “We forgive him.”

Forgiveness, the willingness to suppress the urge to retaliate, is a concept that seems foreign and almost nonexistent in today’s society.
An “I’ll get you back” mentality seems to permeate the minds and hearts of many Americans. Interestingly, it seems that those who have suffered the most from genocide and abuse are often willing to forgive.

I often think of the words of Elie Weisel, a Holocaust survivor, a man who watched all of his family tortured and killed, a man who speaks for six million Jews who were killed in the Holocaust. Weisel’s words of wisdom were that we should “forgive but not forget.”

Forgive, but not forget. This is the concept echoed by the greatest leaders of our times — Martin Luther King Jr., Mahatma Gandhi, Nelson Mandela and Pope Francis. All of these men are speaking on behalf of a minority group that has been abused and mistreated for generation after generation. And yet, they saw the power of forgiveness and the futility of resentment. Their own words send a powerful message.

MLK said, “We must develop the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love.”

Gandhi’s words were, “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.”
Speaking on resentment, Mandela said, “Resentment is like a glass of poison that a man drinks; then he sits down and waits for his enemy to die.”

And more recently, Pope Francis stunned the Catholic world and aroused controversy when he declared forgiveness for women who have had abortions.

In Simon Weisenthal’s classic book, “The Sunflower,” he examines the possibilities and limitations of forgiveness. Wiesenthal, while a prisoner in a Nazi concentration camp, was taken to visit a dying member of the SS. The German soldier asked Wiesenthal for forgiveness, and Wiesenthal’s response was one of silence. For the rest of his life, Wiesenthal wondered if he had taken the correct action. He asks 53 distinguished theologians, human rights activists, political leaders and writers what they would have done had they been in Wiesenthal’s situation. Their responses are thought-provoking as well as insightful.

Several said that forgiveness was possible, but only if it is accompanied by justice. Those who have committed atrocious acts must be punished so that we will never forget.

Other respondents, thinking of the many Germans who hid Jews in their homes or helped them escape, said that those who have a sense of collective guilt for the crimes that their leaders had engaged in could be forgiven, but never their leaders or those who perpetrated acts of genocide.

Another often-given response was that it made little difference what course of action Weisenthal took; ultimately the only one with the power to forgive was God.

Interestingly, none of the respondents advocated revenge. They note retaliation only hurts. Those consumed by anger lose their capacity for love.

It was not that long ago that President George Herbert Bush argued for a kinder, gentler America — an America that exemplified compassion and respect.

As I listen to the Republican presidential candidates, I wonder what has happened to Bush’s advice. It seems to me that the major tone of most politicians, regardless of political party, is one of anger and retribution. In the debates, there is so much bickering that little time is left for discussion of constructive and workable solutions to our nation’s pressing issues. Perhaps this is just “politics as usual,” but I cannot help but wonder if the time could have been spent more productively.

Would our country not be better off if we followed the example set by the Charleston families — of Weisel, Mandela, Gandhi and Pope Francis? If we opened our minds and hearts to forgiveness?

As Thanksgiving approaches, we reflect on our many blessings, some of which are the freedom to think for ourselves, to express ourselves and to recognize the greatness of our country rather than its shortcomings. Let us bear this in mind as we say our Thanksgiving prayers, and as we strive for a kinder, gentler America.

Welcome to Black Friday

One of the many nice aspects of my part-time job at Street Toyota/Scion is the interaction I have with interesting customers.

Two of them came to our service department this morning. They are foreign-born. I asked them, “Where do you come from?”

“The Philippines,” the wife said.

We chatted a few moments. I asked them where they live; they reside in a small town north of Amarillo. She’s a medical professional, he is a contractor.

I asked them about the service we were doing for their vehicle. The gentleman told me they brought their truck in for a recall and some other maintenance. “Oh, do you think it will take some time?” I asked. He said “Yes, I think so.”

I told them we could transport them wherever they want to go if they didn’t want to wait.

Then the conversation got rather entertaining.

Husband: “Well, we were thinking about going to the mall, but it’s closed today, correct”?

Me: “Ohhh, no! It’s open. It’s been open for some time. Probably before the sun came up this morning.”

Husband: “Really? I thought today was a holiday.”

Me: “No, no, no. Yesterday was the holiday. We celebrate Thanksgiving every year at this time. Today is the start of the Christmas shopping season. (Westgate Mall) is quite crowded today.”

Husband: “Oh, OK. Well, I didn’t remember that.”

I then sought to explain to his wife the meaning of Black Friday. I believe she understood how I explained that businesses look to make a sizable profit today from sales of items. She asked if there would be “lots of price cuts.” I said, “Quite possibly, yes.”

With that, they walked across the street to a sporting goods store to do some shopping. They returned about an hour later, informed me that “It wasn’t too crowded over there,” then said they wanted to go to the mall.

I flagged down one of our drivers, Mark, and told him where they wanted to go. “Don’t tell me the mall,” Mark said, laughing loudly.

The couple stood up, walked out with the driver and the wife turned, smiling broadly, and waved good bye.

“What’d I tell ya?” I said. “Good luck.”

Welcome to Black Friday.

 

A Thanksgiving to remember … in Vietnam

Thanksgiving is a day we express gratitude for all that we have.

It’s a uniquely American holiday and my friends overseas often are kind enough to extend wishes to my family and me at this time of year.

It also is a time to remember. And today I am remembering a particularly exciting Thanksgiving holiday.

I spent it far from home. I didn’t talk to my family that day. I was traveling in what once was a war zone and the site of one of the 20th century’s most infamous episodes of genocide.

Thanksgiving Day 1989 was spent traveling with fellow editorial writers and editors from Phnom Penh, Cambodia to Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam. The day ended in grand fashion, for which we all gave thanks at the end of a harrowing overland travel experience.

The day began in Cambodia, where our group of about 20 journalists had toured several chilling locations, including killing fields, the infamous Tuol Sleng prison and where we met with survivors of the Pol Pot’s murderous reign of terror that ended nearly a decade earlier when Vietnam invaded Cambodia and ousted the dictator’s Khmer Rouge regime.

The country had been decimated. Two million Cambodians had been exterminated. The country’s infrastructure was in shambles. The people — beautiful as they are — were still in shock. The capital city of Phnom Penh was virtually empty.

We set out that day in several vans full of people and luggage along a crowded bumpy road. Ho Chi Minh City would be our destination. But first we had to travel several hundred treacherous miles.

The “highlight” of our journey occurred when we reached the Mekong River. We boarded a “ferry,” which in reality was hardly more than a motorized raft. Aboard that so-called ferry we loaded our vans, along with Cambodians traveling with carts, animals, loads of fresh fruit. The river, as I recall, was running fairly swiftly and I began to fantasize about overturning in the middle of the Mekong. I read an imaginary headline in my mind: “U.S. journalists killed in Cambodia ferry disaster.”

We made it across the river and then continued on our way.

Finally, several hours later we arrived at the Cambodia-Vietnam border. The line of traffic getting through the militarized checkpoint was quite long. We had a young guide, who we called Vibol. As with most business in Cambodia, a lot of it is transacted underground, under the table. Vibol collected some cash from all of us and then greased some palms at the gate. Suddenly, without explanation, our party was moved to the head of the line.

We slid on through to the Vietnamese side of the border, where we noticed a vision in the form of the young Vietnamese guide who had escorted us through Vietnam at an earlier portion of the trip. Her name was Mai and she was, as one might say, a sight for sore eyes — if you know what I mean.

Mai then escorted us the rest of the way to Ho Chi Minh City — which, by the way, the locals still refer to as Saigon.

We reached the city. Got to our hotel, unpacked our vehicles and were informed that the hotel staff had prepared a special dinner for us that evening.

We got cleaned up and went down to eat later. Awaiting us in a very nice dining room was a meal of what one of my colleagues called “road kill duck,” mashed potatoes, peas, rolls and a cake for dessert.

Was it the kind of Thanksgiving meal to which we were accustomed? No. But it was served with all the love and good intentions imaginable. Our Vietnamese hosts wanted to recognize our special holiday.

For that we all were thankful beyond measure.

After the experience we had endured that day, and in the previous days in a country decimated by war and untold inhumanity, we felt almost at home in a faraway land.

Happy Thanksgiving.

 

Confiscate cell phones before giving thanks?

A conversation occurred this morning that has gotten my wheels to start spinning.

Some readers of this blog likely won’t endorse this idea, but a friend of ours told us of a possible plan to confiscate the cell phones of everyone who’s coming to her home for Thanksgiving dinner.

She’s planning to have a houseful over for a day of fellowship and food. So are we.

Should the fellowship include folks sitting throughout the house sending text messages to friends in other places? I think not.

Dare I set up a drop box or a wicker basket at the front door when everyone arrives for the Thanksgiving holiday? I’m not saying I’ll do so, but the idea does intrigue me.

Can I exercise my own self-control with my very own cellular telephone? My wife thinks I’m as guilty as the teenager who cannot put his or her device away.

As we were talking to our friend, my wife recalled our recent visit to Oklahoma City, where we attended a Friday night concert at a mega-church at the north end of the city. “It was a gospel concert,” my wife said to our friend, “so many of the folks there were our age — or older.” She noted how, during an intermission, she peered from the balcony where we were sitting and noticed “everyone” looking down at cell phones or texting devices. “You could tell because they were all lit up,” my wife said.

Is this the way to spend a Thanksgiving holiday with friends and family?

Probably not.

Will I demand that everyone turn in their cell phones when they arrive?

It’s highly doubtful. Heck, I’m not at all confident of being able to curb my own cell phone habit.

 

 

 

Clearing hurdles with new phone

I am going to suspend for a day or so any gripes, rants and raves and overall snarkiness about the state of politics and policy.

Hey, it’s Thanksgiving.

With that, I want to proclaim a minor victory today with operating my new smart phone.

I managed to send a blog item I had written for Panhandle PBS to my Twitter account. I tweeted it today — using my phone — to my network of friends and assorted contacts. And, because my Twitter account is linked electronically to my Facebook account, my 400-plus Facebook friends got to read it as well.

I had written about President Abraham Lincoln’s brief but poignant Gettysburg Address and noted how such a brief statement — it was just 269 words — wouldn’t be possible in the Internet/TV/Social Media Age. Today’s instantaneous communication makes it too tempting for pols to bloviate ad infinitum — not to mention ad nauseam. (OK, so I ranted just a little bit.)

The story for the day, though, is that I’m starting to get more comfortable with the myriad tasks this cellular telecommunications device can perform.

Do I have them all mastered yet? Pardon me while I laugh out loud.

Maybe I’ll become more proficient in all these tasks. I just hope that day arrives before one or both of my sons talks me into getting an upgrade. Then I’ll have to start over.