In response to a question asked elsewhere, I wrote the following:
This is a key issue for me, not in the usual sense but in the sense that it has been battled at so furiously from all sides that my own position has had to be evaluated and re-evaluated numerous times. I've been on both sides of the debate and have believed both sides to be "the correct" one. Which is to say that my article here will be more of a discussion of reflections rather than an attempt to say "what is right." As if there were such a thing. As to what *I* believe? It will become more clear as you read on.
Individual choice in the matter is paramount. This ties in very closely with the idea that we can't or rather, shouldn't legislate morality. What is right for one person or even the majority in such an issue is irrelevant to the focal point of the matter, that focal point being, of course, the choice and option of the individual pregnant woman. Moral legislation such as this is founded almost entirely in emotion. But even that isn't a sufficient argument to keep this issue out of congressional debates and out of our courtrooms. Most laws are based on morals, for example, we aren't allowed to kill, we aren't allowed to cut of a man's hand when he steals an orange from the supermarket. The difference here is that abortion is a crime only because it is defined as such, not because there is a secondary harm to society, ie., no victim.
"Aha!" some may say. "The unborn child is a victim of MURDER!" That statement forces the argument of whether or not the embryo/fetus is a viable life form. Even scientists are at odds about this so I doubt that we as mere mortals can make the call. Personally, I think the embryo/fetus is a parasite to the mother and lives, not even symbiotically, but feeds entirely off the mother's body, relying wholly upon it for it's survival, beyond the womb, even. That's an exclusively biological view and leads to the conclusion that while it may be alive, it is only by the grace and permission of the mother. Even the hormonal changes forced on the mother leading to an emotional attachment to the unborn child are geared toward ensuring that the mother takes care of said unborn child. Still, it is a parasite.
Before you flame me, recall that such a statement of the status of the embryo/fetus is an emotionally detached biological statement, not one which is arguable in the least. It's simply an unemotional statement of what nature has done to propogate life in mammals.
Having said all of that, a pregnant woman can genuinely feel the life inside her quite early on in the pregnancy. But not immediately. The only immediate effects are the quiet realization that something is changing in her body. After a few weeks, movement can be felt and the mother's attachment to the unborn begins to solidify quite well.
At what point, though, is it a life? Even a parasite is alive so you can't even use the argument that a child which cannot survive outside the womb is not a life. Yet, I don't believe you can call it a human life immediately upon conception. It is not even recognizable as human unless you jump into the DNA itself. The few cells which make up my gall bladder are alive and have human DNA but they are not a viable human life. That the embryo can eventually become human is not an argument that at the moment, it IS human.
So when does life begin? Not at conception. Certainly before birth. When the heart starts pumping? When brainwave activity is apparent? When does life begin? All of the above is to present the argument that abortion BEFORE the start of life should be a non-issue. Yet, we have not come to an agreement about when life begins and therefore, we have to admit that by having this argument, we don't even agree on what life, over all, really is.
I'm opposed to late-term and partial birth abortions. In my pea brain, I believe there is no doubt that at that point, the fetus is viable, human, and a sustainable life, regardless of the fact that it's still living parasitically off the mother host. Partial-birth abortions are not, in fact, abortions, they are killings, pure and simple. I also find it truly amazing that a woman could go through her entire pregnancy of nine-months and decide at the last minute that she doesn't want the child. There isn't any difference between this method of baby-disposal and the dumping of a newborn into a nearby garbage dumpster. My opinion, of course.
As a birth control method, I'm opposed to abortion. There are far more effective ways to prevent the birth of a child. I'll agree, however, that sometimes other methods can fail and allow an unwanted pregnancy to occur. At that point, I think abortion is pretty much paramount, however, it needs to be effected right away in order to accomplish it before life truly begins. The sooner the better, of course. Women who are on birth control and have a failure of that birth control method should have an easy decision ahead of them. I'm always confused, therefore, about why people get in a sweat about abortion when they've been doing other things to prevent pregnancy in the first place. The other method failed, jump on this other last-ditch option and don't debate about it. Ahh, but the reality is, the emotional ties a woman has with the new embryo are part of biology's attempt to protect the child. Hence the change of heart when a woman gets pregnant "accidentally."
People are generally very irresponsible with their sexual behavior. If a person is going to have sex, they should decide up front if they want to have a baby or not. It isn't just about having a baby after 9 months, it's about having a child under your care for the next 9 months, PLUS eighteen or more years. All planning and thought and care should be given to this and it should be a conscientious decision, well in advance of the conception. A good financial backing, a good marital relationship, a strong support structure, etc. etc. Having kids willy-nilly is abhorrent. Yet I'm sure that the huge majority of all children are born without a thought from their parents about the future care. If a person doesn't want to have a baby, they need to be sure they take steps to make sure their sexual activity does not lead to an unwanted pregnancy or unwanted child. It's one reason I'm all but completely convinced that the huge majority of "accidental" conceptions are intentional.
Here's one which makes me laugh uproariously and painfully. I've heard this countless times when abortion is suggested as a way to undo one of these "accidental" pregnancies.
"But it's contrary to the laws of god."
"Waitaminnit. You're a believer in god's will? Christian, I presume?"
"Yeah."
"And it's against Christian beliefs to have an abortion?"
"Yeah!" And I refuse to participate in a practice which is against god's law!"
"Are you married?"
"Er, no."
"Then why are you having sex? Isn't THAT against god's law?"
"Ummmm, errr, uhhhh, well, gee."
"That's what I thought."
These are the same people who are the purveyors of unwanted children in our society. "No, we don't want abortions to ever happen," they say, but they also give woefully underenthusiastic support of helping unwanted children have a decent chance or opportunity in this life. Unwanted kids become the predators of our society and they lose out on the good things we have available, particularly in the devoped nations. Adoptions? Only perfect newborn infants get adopted with regularity and frankly, most mothers will keep their kids until they are just old enough to become unadoptable before they start to have second thoughts. At that point, while they aren't crowding around to drop the kids off at the orphanages, they do abandon them emotionally and for all intents and purpose, drop them off their radar and don't do what it takes to make sure those kids are viable members of society. Remember, the commitment to a child goes well beyond the womb.
The biggest double-whammy of these moralists is that they frequently are the same people who advocate little or no sex eduction for young teens who are starting to experiment with sex. They don't want sex ed in the classrooms because they believe that sex ed is the reponsibility of the parents. Ironically, that statement is absolutely correct, however, they fail miserably in its execution. Their failure, however, isn't enough to convince them that they should at least give the schools a chance to fix that problem, however inept the schools may be. Thus, hypocrisy is heaped up on hypocricy and once again, the end-all and be-all of solutions to society's problems becomes the cause and the exacerbator of those very same problems. I'm appalled, to say the least.
Ultimately, however, the woman put the baby there, she should be able to do with it as she pleases. She should be able give birth and keep the child 'til it's a productive adult member of society. She should be able to give birth and neglect the child or raise it badly as it grows older. She should be able to give birth and put the child up for adoption. OR she should be able to abort it.
Personally, I'm opposed to abortion as a primary form of birth control and I think that if abortion is to be used at all, it should be as a last-ditch, we-did-everything-else-and-it-failed approach to preventing pregnancy. Or it can be used when the life the the mother is genuinely threatened or there is rape or incest. Even then, it should be up to the discretion of the mother. Yeah, some of those are holdovers from my days as a Right-Winger but after a lot of thought, I think those are valid reasons to have an abortion. Ultimately, what I believe is that it is up to the mother entirely. In fact, it always has been up to the mother anyway so I'm still uncertain as to why we still have to bring it up as a political issue every time we have an election. The only thing the right-wingers will accomplish if they succeed in outlawing abortions is they will create an underground network of illicit abortion clinics wherein peoples lives are destroyed. Much as they have done with many others of society's ills.
"What's the candidate's/Party's stand on Abortion," is always a key question. Some people don't even vote unless this question is answered and it is the only issue for these voters. Psychotic. What's also psychotic are the people conducting violence against abortion or even in the name of abortion rights. They are NOT generating sympathy from me and they frequently do their cause a great deal of damage. The guy who murders abortion doctors because he claims he was told to by god has ensured that I and many many others want nothing to do with his god.
If people believe abortion is against the commandments of god, they should be letting god sort it all out after we all die. How arrogant are we to think we can legislate people into obeying god's will when all he has to do is solve the problem himself? This is, again, a victimless crime, more than less, and if god has a problem with it, let's allow him to solve it. Nobody is his agent here on earth to deal with this debate for him. We rarely or never legislate adultery as a crime any longer, why abortion?
--Wag--
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Friday, October 15, 2004
Masturbation + Mormonism + Guilt = Suicide
A new acquaintance asked me for this story. He is a Clinical Sexologist in Ogden, UT. If you need his name, e-mail me and I'll forward your e-mail to him.
Below is my e-mail to him.
-------------------------
Dear Mark,
You asked me to tell my story, the story about how Mormon-instilled taboos about masturbation led me to the point of attempted suicide. That I failed at killing myself is a good thing to truly understate the obvious!
Here's my story, as best as I can remember it. As I started to write it, it really brought back a flood of memories and it fleshed out with more detail than I originally thought it might. Feel free to use it any way you wish, and when you do, sign me or credit me as . . .
--Wag--
------------------------------
As an 18- or 19-year old Mormon man, I was getting ready to go on a mission. I was engaged in the regular and frequent practice of masturbation and felt guilty about it all the time. I had gotten started early at the age of seven. Of course, in Mormonism, masturbation is considered a major sin, major enough to keep people out of the temples and certainly off of a mission. In any case, while getting ready for my mission, I had confessed it to my bishop and he made the decision to keep me off my mission for a while until I could stop masturbating for a sufficient length of time.
At some point in there, I got truly despondent and took about three quarters of an economy-sized bottle of Tylenol, believing whole-heartedly that I would be dead within a couple of hours. Little did I know that it would have no effect on me and that it could have easily wiped out my kidneys. I didn't find that out until later that there are probably NO OTC meds which are potent enough to kill an adult human. I'm lucky in the sense of being alive and more lucky I didn't roast my internal organs in the process. I never told a soul about it at the time. I still genuinely believe that my intent in the attempt was two-sided. One, I was tired of life but Two, and more importantly to me at the time, was I wanted to cause pain to my parents. I really thought it would be highly embarrassing to them to have their oldest son commit suicide. I even thought that a couple of my siblings might follow in my footsteps and that pleased me even more. At some base mental level, I even thought my parents were depressive enough to follow my lead, too.
Bear in mind, however, that as I had grown up, I had been infused with a very low self-esteem and felt I was not worth the clothes on my back. I was never good enough, I was always guilty of something and never had I done something which deserved a compliment from anyone, particularly my parents from whom I should have had the most support in doing good things. I was ruled by fear and guilt levied thick upon me by my parents primarily, followed closely by the church and its representatives. Furthermore, as I was the oldest of ten children, I was supposed to be the example to the rest of my siblings and lo and behold, frequently, I was accused of being the cause of various of their delinquencies as well. A more complete mantle of guilt couldn't possibly have been conceived or executed.
There were many things which occurred during my life to destroy any sense of self-worth I might have had. Positive things were ignored at best, pushed down at worst The talent and potential I had was never recognized by my parents and therefore left unrealized. For example, when I was seven years old, I was in the third grade. My reading and comprehension was tested at a second-year university level and I was naturally reading at 1200 wpm. I'm not even sure I can still do that now! But I was never recognized for it and I never got any additional training to focus me on a path which would take advantage of those skills.
Another example is that when I was eight years old, my parents started me with piano lessons. For a while I enjoyed it, but soon I didn't want to practice any more, probably 'cause my buddies were teasing me about it. My parents forced me to continue because the piano teacher I had insisted I had talent. Actually, I just had brains and piano was not difficult to figure out. So, for about four or five years, I was forced to take piano lessons and threatened with whippings if I didn't perform well. Lo and behold, I started to get pretty good. Much to my surprise, I started to enjoy it. Then, my teacher moved and my parents ran me through a couple of other teachers but very soon, the became unavailable for some reason. I was content for a while to not have to practice any more.
But I surprised myself by actually beginning to enjoy playing, especially since I could play what I wanted to play. After a couple of years of guiding myself at the piano, I asked my parents for lessons again and they refused. That was the time when I could have really used lessons, too. I didn't make a big issue out of it and continued to play on my own and progressed to some degree. Very little, in retrospect but at the time, ignorance was bliss. I tell that as an example of how I was not given the support of my parents for the good things I was able to do and wasn't recognized for doing well. Years later, I took lessons from a concert pianist at my own initiative and made light years of progress in a very short time.
As a child, I generally got nearly perfect grades. That was because of the fear of getting my ass whipped by my old man. I was a smart kid, but it was because I didn't dare be otherwise. Indeed, as a near straigt-A student all through Junior High and High School, I can't remember once ever being told by either of my parents that I had done a great job. I do remember, however, a couple of times where I just screwed around in class and got a "D" or an "F" as a H.S. Freshman and all hell broke loose. I had gotten bored with how easy school was and it was no challenge for me, there was no motivation for me to do well. I had forgotten, however, the wrath of my old man.
That was the way it was for me as a child in my household. Keep your nose clean and never step outside the realm of perfection that my parents establish with the Mormon Church as their guide to it all. We were to be good little Mormon kids, never embarrass our parents and do everything right. Our opinions didn't matter and we were not allowed to speak outside the religious dogma that was thrust upon us. To do so was to risk the wrath of my parents, most especially my father.
My mother was a master of manipulating me through guilt me. I remember one particular occasion just after my father had lost his butt big time in his first business venture. I was about 15 and hadn't played the piano for quite a long time. My mother came to me one day and said, "Louis, your father finds a great deal of comfort when you play the piano and would very much like it if you would play once in a while." Hmmmmmm. I was a little taken aback and I said, "Okay," and moved on. However, my initial reaction inside, which I didn't dare show, was one of feeling empowered. I could finally pay back my old man! I had power, all of a sudden to cause him grief in return for the grief I had lived with all my short life. Internally, I refused to play. But in a matter of a few weeks, the drive to be accepted by my old man AND my mother, for that matter, and starving for compliments, I gave in and started playing again. And the guilt? Very much a part of my decision to play again. Never heard much more about it, though. Once in a while, I recall my father saying he liked a particular song but it was more about him controlling what I played than about giving me a compliment. He never did say that I played well.
I remember only two compliments I got from my father. There may have been more, but I don't remember them at all. Which means they were likely never given, quite frankly. One compliment was the only compliment I ever got on my grades. I had pulled straight A's on one report card and he patted me on the back and said, "Good job." That was it. The other time "I" got a "compliment" from my father was on a Monday night at Family Home Evening. He stood in front of all of us kids and said, with tears of happiness in his eyes, "Your mother and I really appreciate that you kids are well-behaved and you don't cause us any problems. We get complimented all the time by other people about how well you all behave when you're not at home." At the time, we were bubbling over about it and we felt the warm fuzzies etc. etc. Now, it just turns my stomach. My parents were saying that to them it was more important for us to keep from embarrassing them than anything else.
There are plenty of other stories to be told but I think the picture is rather clear, thus far. To automatically link the first of my suicide attempts directly to masturbation might be a little bit of a stretch. However, there can be no doubt that since the age of 12 when a bishop first asked me if I masturbated and told me it was a bad thing to do, it has been a factor. My father lectured me on it soon after that and told me it was a bad thing to do. When I was 17 or 18, my grandfather even told me it was a bad thing to do. I was 13 or 14 and was in attendance via satellite at the LDS Priesthood session when Mormon Apostle, Boyd K. Packer first delivered his infamous "Little Factory" speech. It was later printed in a little pamphlet called, "For Young Men Only." That way, I could carry the guilt around with me at all times, if I so desired. Even my younger brother once accused me of committing "adultery" though it was apparent he really didn't know what the term meant. *I* knew what he meant, however. In our home, all seven of us boys shared one bedroom and I suppose I wasn't quite as quiet as I had always thought.
So, adding the onslaught of all the masturbation guilt with a daily suppression of any positive reinforcement to my sense of self worth, I naturally became very depressed about life, felt very "unworthy" as defined by Mormonism, and as my mission approached and I battled the masturbation "problem," my depression grew exponentially in that last few months before my mission. I was told by my bishop that it was just Satan working to keep me off my mission. He even told me I should consider breaking up with my girlfriend just to make sure we didn't "do anything" to keep me off my mission.
I was successful at abstaining from masturbation for about seven or eight months before my mission. It was during the second or third month that I attempted suicide with the Tylenol. I wasn't happy in life, even as I started to succeed at suppressing my sexual urges and stopped masturbating. My bishop was pleased and I told him I was happy, just to make him more pleased. He gave me a hug and told me he was proud of me but I felt empty inside. Not because I couldn't masturbate and feel good about it, I don't think, but because I was at the bottom of a whirlpool of despondency.
So, the bishop sent in my papers for a mission and I waited for the call. I actually started to get a little excited about it. I hoped to finally get a testimony and was studying the scriptures obsessively, looking for a testimony in it's pages. I fasted and prayed often, knowing that a testimony from God would be forthcoming soon, possibly even before my mission call arrived. I had hopes of going to a foreign country. I had tested off the charts for language aptitude and I just knew I would be sent to Japan or some place equally challenging. I looked forward to it and genuinely started to get excited. Naturally, given my household environment, I didn't express my desire to go to a foreign country but kept it to myself.
The envelope came. My mother called me at work to tell me it was waiting for me at home and completely ruined the rest of my day. I was virtually useless to my employer up to quitting time. When I got home, it was late at night, my mother had gone to bed and hadn't told me where she had put the letter and I couldn't find it in any of the usual places. I didn't dare wake her up. And I didn't sleep for a very long time, naturally. I just knew I was being sent on a mission to Japan. The next morning, I finally fell asleep and slept past all my siblings leaving for school and my father leaving for work and I didn't wake up until nearly noon that day. I went looking for my mother and couldn't find her and so I started looking in the daylight for the mission call. I saw it right off on the kitchen table where we never kept mail. Oh, well, I was still excited and I opened the letter. I didn't even read it, I just scanned it quickly to see where I was going to go. Arcadia, California. Where the heck is Arcadia, CA? I dug out an atlas and found it on a map next to Pasadena. I was highly disappointed. I took the time to read the letter through and didn't learn anything really important except that I was going to be speaking English on my mission. Double whammy. I wouldn't even be learning another language.
(I should mention, in retrospect, that nearly all of the missionaries I know who went to foreign countries had really lousy experiences so from that standpoint, I'm glad I went stateside. It was bad enough as it was.)
I was somewhat depressed by the "call" and getting more depressed by the moment. My mother came in at some point in there and asked me, rather excited, where I was going to go.
"Arcadia, CA, Mom."
"Where's Arcadia, CA?"
"Right by Pasadena."
"Oh, I know where that is."
She perused my letter for a moment and went about her day without further comment. My dad held a special family home evening that night to gather all the kids around and everyone revered my mission call. I was very disappointed and over the next couple of weeks, I nearly pulled the plug on my mission. To this day, I wish I had done exactly that. Well, utlimately, I did meet my wife on my mission so that was a good thing but still, I should have been true to my self and stayed off my mission. Why did I go then? I was still feeling the pressure, generated from within and founded on years of brainwashing, the pressure of being the oldest son and having a responsibility of setting an example for my siblings. THAT was why I went on a mission in the first place, that was why I didn't pull the plug when I found out I was going on a stateside mission.
I went on my mission and through the MTC, still abstaining from masturbation. I got out into the field and made some new friends and had a rather enjoyable time. A month into my mission, however, I woke up from a wet dream one morning, with a raging erection. I suspected that the least little touch to it would bring me to orgasm. I couldn't even pee so I jumped in the shower and finally managed to pee as the warm water relaxed me just enough to do so, but it did nothing to eliminate the "problem" I had between my legs. Add to that, the fact that the images from my very erotic and hard-core sex dream were still rolling through my mind.
I tried Packer's suggestion and was singing just about every church song I knew, all at once, and rehearsing scripture after scripture in my mind.
Nothing. I still had a raging erection which demanded attention. I continued soaping myself up avoiding my penis for the moment because I knew what was next if I grabbed it to lather it up. I actually felt fear of it, as I recall. But I finished with the rest of me and it was all that was left. Still as hard as iron. I grabbed hold to lather up quickly and at that point, I think my body just took over and I automatically began masturbating. I was a couple of strokes into it before I orgasmed in the shower for the first time in over 8 months. It felt really super good but immediately, the programming of the Mormon Church and the brainwashing of it started to do its job. Guilt set in right away, followed very closely by depression. What I remember now, but didn't notice then, was the extreme relief my body felt at having gotten that out of my system. I should have been relieved and glad but noooo. I was going to have a spiralling depression about it.
I called my mom on the phone that same morning which was a big no-no for missionaries but at the time I didn't care. I was calling to tell her I was coming home because I felt like a complete and utter failure. She didn't understand why I wanted to "quit." (Her word, with all it's implications to my character. Mom was the master of guilt.) I still hadn't told her why at this point but during the course of our conversation over the next few minutes, I told her what was up. It was embarrassing to talk to my mother about my masturbation "problem" though in a "normal" mother-son relationship, I see no reason why it should be. At the time, I was mortified but I was doing things to prove that I had a reason to leave my mission. She didn't know what to say and she was just as embarrassed as I was. Her words of encouragement consisted of telling me to keep fasting and praying and God would help me so I could stay on my mission.
I hung up the phone and plodded through my day. The self-imposed trauma of it all was enough to keep me from masturbating for a couple of weeks and I started to feel confident again, like the fasting and praying was working. I didn't talk to my mission president about it at the time and thought I had the tempation pretty well conquered. I went about another four months without masturbating.
I was in a different area and again, same scenario: Wet dream, shower, masturbation. Only this time I was completely devastated by it, moreso than before, if that's possible. I really thought there was something wrong with me. I really believed I was the only man my age that was masturbating, in or out of the Mormon Church. I genuinely didn't think other guys did it and I was feeling very dirty, very worthless, very useless. I really believed God couldn't possibly love me and I for sure didn't love myself. The next morning, I jumped in the shower with a razor blade and slashed my wrists. I waited. And waited. They bled for a while and stopped. It hurt, so I didn't do it again right away. A couple of days later, I did it again, same result. The day after that, I did it again and again, same result. I couldn't even kill myself right. I found out later I had done it wrong but I won't belabor that here. In hindsight, I'm VERY glad I failed at it.
For whatever reason, in my letter to the mission president that week, I told him about it to some degree. Not in great detail because I never believed he was reading my letters first. I always figured the AP's read everything first if my letter got read at all. Somehow though, he read it and I got a call from his secretary requesting that I come in for an interview. He sent me to a psychologist who didn't have the brains of a mechanical pencil but at least she realized she wasn't adequately equipped to do anything for me. So she sent me to a psychiatrist who was able to prescribe an anti-depressant to me. He was also the first person who I told about the Tylenol attempt on my life and he was the one who told me of the potential damage it could have done to my kidneys.
He explained things really well. He said that sometimes the body gets in the habit of being depressed and the brain gets in the mode of producing "depressive" chemistry too frequently. The brain just doesn't know any better after a while and "forgets" how to make the upbeat chemistry. The anti-depressant drugs are focused on kicking the brain back into gear and into producing normal chemistry again.
I had told him about the masturbation "problem" but he never discussed it with me even though we was a Mormon psychiatrist, paid by the Mormon church. I wonder, sometimes, if he believed the depression was causing masturbation, not the other way around and that if he could cure the depression, he would cure the masturbation "problem" as a result. If so, he never told me that. In any case, about three months later, I was dutifully taking my Merital and was feeling pretty good about life. Wasn't masturbating, few or no wet dreams, nothing I couldn't dismiss in any case. In about the fourth month, the makers of Merital pulled it from the market because it was causing some kind of fatal anemia in some patients and so I didn't have my drug anymore. But I felt fine and I've never looked back, never had to get on another anti-depressant. The psychiatrist and his Merital had done the trick.
A few months later, I started masturbating again, finally, but the guilt I felt about it was very mild. I was no longer seeking a strong testimony and I was content to merely move along through my mission without worrying about it.
Looking back, I have in the past, greatly resented Mormonism and my parents for having imposed that guilt on me so traumatically and so thoroughly. According to Mormonism, the "Natural Man" is an enemy to God and I was that natural man. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I had made the connection and, being unable to overcome that natural man within me, I was an enemy to God and therefore, not worth the ground I walked on.
In retrospect, I can look back without any further anger. I'm making up for lost time now and thanks to a psychiatrist who prescribed a medical solution to a medical problem and didn't blame me for being the cause of the problem, I was able to become exactly what I am: A Natural Man, with natural and good desires and drives. There are no longer any restraints falsely posing as guides, no longer any cages falsely posing as places of serenity. No longer any guilt, no longer any pain. Nothing but freedom remains for me and my loving wife.
The only good thing that ever came out of Mormonism for me was my wife. I met her and her family while I was on my mission and while I never had an interest in her then, a time came after my misison when I went to visit them and fell in love with that same girl. She was an angel then and she is more of an angel now.
And depression? For me, it is a thing of the past. Masturbation? A thing of the present and never again the two shall meet.
Below is my e-mail to him.
-------------------------
Dear Mark,
You asked me to tell my story, the story about how Mormon-instilled taboos about masturbation led me to the point of attempted suicide. That I failed at killing myself is a good thing to truly understate the obvious!
Here's my story, as best as I can remember it. As I started to write it, it really brought back a flood of memories and it fleshed out with more detail than I originally thought it might. Feel free to use it any way you wish, and when you do, sign me or credit me as . . .
--Wag--
------------------------------
As an 18- or 19-year old Mormon man, I was getting ready to go on a mission. I was engaged in the regular and frequent practice of masturbation and felt guilty about it all the time. I had gotten started early at the age of seven. Of course, in Mormonism, masturbation is considered a major sin, major enough to keep people out of the temples and certainly off of a mission. In any case, while getting ready for my mission, I had confessed it to my bishop and he made the decision to keep me off my mission for a while until I could stop masturbating for a sufficient length of time.
At some point in there, I got truly despondent and took about three quarters of an economy-sized bottle of Tylenol, believing whole-heartedly that I would be dead within a couple of hours. Little did I know that it would have no effect on me and that it could have easily wiped out my kidneys. I didn't find that out until later that there are probably NO OTC meds which are potent enough to kill an adult human. I'm lucky in the sense of being alive and more lucky I didn't roast my internal organs in the process. I never told a soul about it at the time. I still genuinely believe that my intent in the attempt was two-sided. One, I was tired of life but Two, and more importantly to me at the time, was I wanted to cause pain to my parents. I really thought it would be highly embarrassing to them to have their oldest son commit suicide. I even thought that a couple of my siblings might follow in my footsteps and that pleased me even more. At some base mental level, I even thought my parents were depressive enough to follow my lead, too.
Bear in mind, however, that as I had grown up, I had been infused with a very low self-esteem and felt I was not worth the clothes on my back. I was never good enough, I was always guilty of something and never had I done something which deserved a compliment from anyone, particularly my parents from whom I should have had the most support in doing good things. I was ruled by fear and guilt levied thick upon me by my parents primarily, followed closely by the church and its representatives. Furthermore, as I was the oldest of ten children, I was supposed to be the example to the rest of my siblings and lo and behold, frequently, I was accused of being the cause of various of their delinquencies as well. A more complete mantle of guilt couldn't possibly have been conceived or executed.
There were many things which occurred during my life to destroy any sense of self-worth I might have had. Positive things were ignored at best, pushed down at worst The talent and potential I had was never recognized by my parents and therefore left unrealized. For example, when I was seven years old, I was in the third grade. My reading and comprehension was tested at a second-year university level and I was naturally reading at 1200 wpm. I'm not even sure I can still do that now! But I was never recognized for it and I never got any additional training to focus me on a path which would take advantage of those skills.
Another example is that when I was eight years old, my parents started me with piano lessons. For a while I enjoyed it, but soon I didn't want to practice any more, probably 'cause my buddies were teasing me about it. My parents forced me to continue because the piano teacher I had insisted I had talent. Actually, I just had brains and piano was not difficult to figure out. So, for about four or five years, I was forced to take piano lessons and threatened with whippings if I didn't perform well. Lo and behold, I started to get pretty good. Much to my surprise, I started to enjoy it. Then, my teacher moved and my parents ran me through a couple of other teachers but very soon, the became unavailable for some reason. I was content for a while to not have to practice any more.
But I surprised myself by actually beginning to enjoy playing, especially since I could play what I wanted to play. After a couple of years of guiding myself at the piano, I asked my parents for lessons again and they refused. That was the time when I could have really used lessons, too. I didn't make a big issue out of it and continued to play on my own and progressed to some degree. Very little, in retrospect but at the time, ignorance was bliss. I tell that as an example of how I was not given the support of my parents for the good things I was able to do and wasn't recognized for doing well. Years later, I took lessons from a concert pianist at my own initiative and made light years of progress in a very short time.
As a child, I generally got nearly perfect grades. That was because of the fear of getting my ass whipped by my old man. I was a smart kid, but it was because I didn't dare be otherwise. Indeed, as a near straigt-A student all through Junior High and High School, I can't remember once ever being told by either of my parents that I had done a great job. I do remember, however, a couple of times where I just screwed around in class and got a "D" or an "F" as a H.S. Freshman and all hell broke loose. I had gotten bored with how easy school was and it was no challenge for me, there was no motivation for me to do well. I had forgotten, however, the wrath of my old man.
That was the way it was for me as a child in my household. Keep your nose clean and never step outside the realm of perfection that my parents establish with the Mormon Church as their guide to it all. We were to be good little Mormon kids, never embarrass our parents and do everything right. Our opinions didn't matter and we were not allowed to speak outside the religious dogma that was thrust upon us. To do so was to risk the wrath of my parents, most especially my father.
My mother was a master of manipulating me through guilt me. I remember one particular occasion just after my father had lost his butt big time in his first business venture. I was about 15 and hadn't played the piano for quite a long time. My mother came to me one day and said, "Louis, your father finds a great deal of comfort when you play the piano and would very much like it if you would play once in a while." Hmmmmmm. I was a little taken aback and I said, "Okay," and moved on. However, my initial reaction inside, which I didn't dare show, was one of feeling empowered. I could finally pay back my old man! I had power, all of a sudden to cause him grief in return for the grief I had lived with all my short life. Internally, I refused to play. But in a matter of a few weeks, the drive to be accepted by my old man AND my mother, for that matter, and starving for compliments, I gave in and started playing again. And the guilt? Very much a part of my decision to play again. Never heard much more about it, though. Once in a while, I recall my father saying he liked a particular song but it was more about him controlling what I played than about giving me a compliment. He never did say that I played well.
I remember only two compliments I got from my father. There may have been more, but I don't remember them at all. Which means they were likely never given, quite frankly. One compliment was the only compliment I ever got on my grades. I had pulled straight A's on one report card and he patted me on the back and said, "Good job." That was it. The other time "I" got a "compliment" from my father was on a Monday night at Family Home Evening. He stood in front of all of us kids and said, with tears of happiness in his eyes, "Your mother and I really appreciate that you kids are well-behaved and you don't cause us any problems. We get complimented all the time by other people about how well you all behave when you're not at home." At the time, we were bubbling over about it and we felt the warm fuzzies etc. etc. Now, it just turns my stomach. My parents were saying that to them it was more important for us to keep from embarrassing them than anything else.
There are plenty of other stories to be told but I think the picture is rather clear, thus far. To automatically link the first of my suicide attempts directly to masturbation might be a little bit of a stretch. However, there can be no doubt that since the age of 12 when a bishop first asked me if I masturbated and told me it was a bad thing to do, it has been a factor. My father lectured me on it soon after that and told me it was a bad thing to do. When I was 17 or 18, my grandfather even told me it was a bad thing to do. I was 13 or 14 and was in attendance via satellite at the LDS Priesthood session when Mormon Apostle, Boyd K. Packer first delivered his infamous "Little Factory" speech. It was later printed in a little pamphlet called, "For Young Men Only." That way, I could carry the guilt around with me at all times, if I so desired. Even my younger brother once accused me of committing "adultery" though it was apparent he really didn't know what the term meant. *I* knew what he meant, however. In our home, all seven of us boys shared one bedroom and I suppose I wasn't quite as quiet as I had always thought.
So, adding the onslaught of all the masturbation guilt with a daily suppression of any positive reinforcement to my sense of self worth, I naturally became very depressed about life, felt very "unworthy" as defined by Mormonism, and as my mission approached and I battled the masturbation "problem," my depression grew exponentially in that last few months before my mission. I was told by my bishop that it was just Satan working to keep me off my mission. He even told me I should consider breaking up with my girlfriend just to make sure we didn't "do anything" to keep me off my mission.
I was successful at abstaining from masturbation for about seven or eight months before my mission. It was during the second or third month that I attempted suicide with the Tylenol. I wasn't happy in life, even as I started to succeed at suppressing my sexual urges and stopped masturbating. My bishop was pleased and I told him I was happy, just to make him more pleased. He gave me a hug and told me he was proud of me but I felt empty inside. Not because I couldn't masturbate and feel good about it, I don't think, but because I was at the bottom of a whirlpool of despondency.
So, the bishop sent in my papers for a mission and I waited for the call. I actually started to get a little excited about it. I hoped to finally get a testimony and was studying the scriptures obsessively, looking for a testimony in it's pages. I fasted and prayed often, knowing that a testimony from God would be forthcoming soon, possibly even before my mission call arrived. I had hopes of going to a foreign country. I had tested off the charts for language aptitude and I just knew I would be sent to Japan or some place equally challenging. I looked forward to it and genuinely started to get excited. Naturally, given my household environment, I didn't express my desire to go to a foreign country but kept it to myself.
The envelope came. My mother called me at work to tell me it was waiting for me at home and completely ruined the rest of my day. I was virtually useless to my employer up to quitting time. When I got home, it was late at night, my mother had gone to bed and hadn't told me where she had put the letter and I couldn't find it in any of the usual places. I didn't dare wake her up. And I didn't sleep for a very long time, naturally. I just knew I was being sent on a mission to Japan. The next morning, I finally fell asleep and slept past all my siblings leaving for school and my father leaving for work and I didn't wake up until nearly noon that day. I went looking for my mother and couldn't find her and so I started looking in the daylight for the mission call. I saw it right off on the kitchen table where we never kept mail. Oh, well, I was still excited and I opened the letter. I didn't even read it, I just scanned it quickly to see where I was going to go. Arcadia, California. Where the heck is Arcadia, CA? I dug out an atlas and found it on a map next to Pasadena. I was highly disappointed. I took the time to read the letter through and didn't learn anything really important except that I was going to be speaking English on my mission. Double whammy. I wouldn't even be learning another language.
(I should mention, in retrospect, that nearly all of the missionaries I know who went to foreign countries had really lousy experiences so from that standpoint, I'm glad I went stateside. It was bad enough as it was.)
I was somewhat depressed by the "call" and getting more depressed by the moment. My mother came in at some point in there and asked me, rather excited, where I was going to go.
"Arcadia, CA, Mom."
"Where's Arcadia, CA?"
"Right by Pasadena."
"Oh, I know where that is."
She perused my letter for a moment and went about her day without further comment. My dad held a special family home evening that night to gather all the kids around and everyone revered my mission call. I was very disappointed and over the next couple of weeks, I nearly pulled the plug on my mission. To this day, I wish I had done exactly that. Well, utlimately, I did meet my wife on my mission so that was a good thing but still, I should have been true to my self and stayed off my mission. Why did I go then? I was still feeling the pressure, generated from within and founded on years of brainwashing, the pressure of being the oldest son and having a responsibility of setting an example for my siblings. THAT was why I went on a mission in the first place, that was why I didn't pull the plug when I found out I was going on a stateside mission.
I went on my mission and through the MTC, still abstaining from masturbation. I got out into the field and made some new friends and had a rather enjoyable time. A month into my mission, however, I woke up from a wet dream one morning, with a raging erection. I suspected that the least little touch to it would bring me to orgasm. I couldn't even pee so I jumped in the shower and finally managed to pee as the warm water relaxed me just enough to do so, but it did nothing to eliminate the "problem" I had between my legs. Add to that, the fact that the images from my very erotic and hard-core sex dream were still rolling through my mind.
I tried Packer's suggestion and was singing just about every church song I knew, all at once, and rehearsing scripture after scripture in my mind.
Nothing. I still had a raging erection which demanded attention. I continued soaping myself up avoiding my penis for the moment because I knew what was next if I grabbed it to lather it up. I actually felt fear of it, as I recall. But I finished with the rest of me and it was all that was left. Still as hard as iron. I grabbed hold to lather up quickly and at that point, I think my body just took over and I automatically began masturbating. I was a couple of strokes into it before I orgasmed in the shower for the first time in over 8 months. It felt really super good but immediately, the programming of the Mormon Church and the brainwashing of it started to do its job. Guilt set in right away, followed very closely by depression. What I remember now, but didn't notice then, was the extreme relief my body felt at having gotten that out of my system. I should have been relieved and glad but noooo. I was going to have a spiralling depression about it.
I called my mom on the phone that same morning which was a big no-no for missionaries but at the time I didn't care. I was calling to tell her I was coming home because I felt like a complete and utter failure. She didn't understand why I wanted to "quit." (Her word, with all it's implications to my character. Mom was the master of guilt.) I still hadn't told her why at this point but during the course of our conversation over the next few minutes, I told her what was up. It was embarrassing to talk to my mother about my masturbation "problem" though in a "normal" mother-son relationship, I see no reason why it should be. At the time, I was mortified but I was doing things to prove that I had a reason to leave my mission. She didn't know what to say and she was just as embarrassed as I was. Her words of encouragement consisted of telling me to keep fasting and praying and God would help me so I could stay on my mission.
I hung up the phone and plodded through my day. The self-imposed trauma of it all was enough to keep me from masturbating for a couple of weeks and I started to feel confident again, like the fasting and praying was working. I didn't talk to my mission president about it at the time and thought I had the tempation pretty well conquered. I went about another four months without masturbating.
I was in a different area and again, same scenario: Wet dream, shower, masturbation. Only this time I was completely devastated by it, moreso than before, if that's possible. I really thought there was something wrong with me. I really believed I was the only man my age that was masturbating, in or out of the Mormon Church. I genuinely didn't think other guys did it and I was feeling very dirty, very worthless, very useless. I really believed God couldn't possibly love me and I for sure didn't love myself. The next morning, I jumped in the shower with a razor blade and slashed my wrists. I waited. And waited. They bled for a while and stopped. It hurt, so I didn't do it again right away. A couple of days later, I did it again, same result. The day after that, I did it again and again, same result. I couldn't even kill myself right. I found out later I had done it wrong but I won't belabor that here. In hindsight, I'm VERY glad I failed at it.
For whatever reason, in my letter to the mission president that week, I told him about it to some degree. Not in great detail because I never believed he was reading my letters first. I always figured the AP's read everything first if my letter got read at all. Somehow though, he read it and I got a call from his secretary requesting that I come in for an interview. He sent me to a psychologist who didn't have the brains of a mechanical pencil but at least she realized she wasn't adequately equipped to do anything for me. So she sent me to a psychiatrist who was able to prescribe an anti-depressant to me. He was also the first person who I told about the Tylenol attempt on my life and he was the one who told me of the potential damage it could have done to my kidneys.
He explained things really well. He said that sometimes the body gets in the habit of being depressed and the brain gets in the mode of producing "depressive" chemistry too frequently. The brain just doesn't know any better after a while and "forgets" how to make the upbeat chemistry. The anti-depressant drugs are focused on kicking the brain back into gear and into producing normal chemistry again.
I had told him about the masturbation "problem" but he never discussed it with me even though we was a Mormon psychiatrist, paid by the Mormon church. I wonder, sometimes, if he believed the depression was causing masturbation, not the other way around and that if he could cure the depression, he would cure the masturbation "problem" as a result. If so, he never told me that. In any case, about three months later, I was dutifully taking my Merital and was feeling pretty good about life. Wasn't masturbating, few or no wet dreams, nothing I couldn't dismiss in any case. In about the fourth month, the makers of Merital pulled it from the market because it was causing some kind of fatal anemia in some patients and so I didn't have my drug anymore. But I felt fine and I've never looked back, never had to get on another anti-depressant. The psychiatrist and his Merital had done the trick.
A few months later, I started masturbating again, finally, but the guilt I felt about it was very mild. I was no longer seeking a strong testimony and I was content to merely move along through my mission without worrying about it.
Looking back, I have in the past, greatly resented Mormonism and my parents for having imposed that guilt on me so traumatically and so thoroughly. According to Mormonism, the "Natural Man" is an enemy to God and I was that natural man. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I had made the connection and, being unable to overcome that natural man within me, I was an enemy to God and therefore, not worth the ground I walked on.
In retrospect, I can look back without any further anger. I'm making up for lost time now and thanks to a psychiatrist who prescribed a medical solution to a medical problem and didn't blame me for being the cause of the problem, I was able to become exactly what I am: A Natural Man, with natural and good desires and drives. There are no longer any restraints falsely posing as guides, no longer any cages falsely posing as places of serenity. No longer any guilt, no longer any pain. Nothing but freedom remains for me and my loving wife.
The only good thing that ever came out of Mormonism for me was my wife. I met her and her family while I was on my mission and while I never had an interest in her then, a time came after my misison when I went to visit them and fell in love with that same girl. She was an angel then and she is more of an angel now.
And depression? For me, it is a thing of the past. Masturbation? A thing of the present and never again the two shall meet.
Monday, October 04, 2004
Driving Test, Part III
Okay, so I failed the damn DMV Motorcycle Driving skills test a month ago. Last weekend, I took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation http://www.msf-usa.org/ Basic Safety Course. For California locations, look here: http://www.ca-msp.org/ And no, I don't represent these guys, just saying what I did. FWIW, however, I took the course with U-Ride in Costa Mesa and while I don't represent them either, I WILL recommend them as being right on top of things. Kip was a great range instructor and I can't for the life of me, remember the name of the classroom instructors. They did a great job too.
That was all last weekend. I had my DL-389 skills test waiver by Wednesday, went and got my license endorsement on Friday last week and put 400+ miles on the bike over the weekend! Ahhhhhhh. Feels good!
--Wag--
That was all last weekend. I had my DL-389 skills test waiver by Wednesday, went and got my license endorsement on Friday last week and put 400+ miles on the bike over the weekend! Ahhhhhhh. Feels good!
--Wag--
Evil T.V. Beautiful Books
As a small child, younger than five, I'm sure, I recall my father getting pissed off about something he saw on television and yanking it from the wall, marching it out to the curb and dropping it in the trash can. I was later told it was because of some filth or other he had seen on there.
Bear in mind, this was before 1970.
It made a huge impression on me. From that point on, until I left home at 17, Mom and Dad were at least conscientious about keeping books in the home for us. Bought encyclopedias for us, read to us at night before bed, the works. We had a very good collection of books for as long as I can remember. My grandparents, being professional eductors also contributed to our library and it was rather substantial and of rather high quality and diversity. Their efforts instilled a love of reading within me at a very young age. I suspect that part of it was a desire to escape the misery of the real world in a Louis L'Amour book, but that's beyond the scope of this text. There are only a very few things which my parents gave to me which are of value and this is probably the biggest and the best favor they ever did for me.
As I grew up and got good at reading, I spent a majority of my time in the library at school, reading everything I could get my hands on. At 7 years old while I was in 2nd grade, I was testing for reading and comprehension ability. As the test was evaluated, I was told I was at a second year university level on both counts. Can we say, "high potential?" I was reading 1,200 wpm which, I've been told, is pretty good. I've never tested for these traits since that time.
NOT having a T.V. was a stigma to us growing up. All of our friends thought we were weird or that our parents were. The latter had pity on us and we took frequent occasion to ask to spend Friday nights at these various friends' homes so we could watch cartoons on Saturday mornings. Summer afternoons were often wasted away watching T.V. shows like "Star Trek" and "Lost in Space." None of these shows really appealed to me since they couldn't compete with the visualizations I created while reading. It was too tough to suspend disbelief with visual effects that, well, sucked. That is, until Star Wars came out. But, since that was only a movie, I couldn't very well watch it every day, either.
Reading seems to have been a positive influence on me in several ways. Back then, I read a lot of fiction which was probably not as good for me as one might think. However, it was a good way for me to learn to spell rather well, to read fast, read well and comprehend readily. I also learned to write fairly well, though I couldn't begin to tell you what a dangling participle is or any other grammatical structure beyond nouns and verbs! Basically, I imitate other people and go with what sounds good. Here, I have to give very high credit to my grandfather who taught me more about writing in one year than most people learn in a lifetime.
By reading mostly fiction and fantasy, however, I missed out on a lot of the classics of literature. To this day, I haven't read Moby Dick, Shakespeare, etc. etc. The classics people normally speak of still have no part of my reading history. I did start to read Harper Lee's, "To Kill a Mockingbird," but it got really boring so maybe I'm just not quite smart enough for the "classics."
Back to television, to round this off, I find that it's a prime waste of time. There was a time early in our marriage when my wife and I bought a T.V. Granted, there are things like the news which have SOME redeeming qualities, SOMEtimes. I loved things like the History Channel, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, etc. etc. Very good programming most of the time. But even now, I just find that I'd rather put in some time reading a good book or working at the piano. T.V. is a total distraction and unnecessary at that.
When we did have a T.V., I was appalled one day to notice I was scheduling my life around the programming. "No, we won't be able to make it to your party on Friday because we have other plans." The plans were, laughably, watching "Cheers" among other things. How pathetic is that?!! Well, maybe it was just us. But at some point, when we realized we were addicted to it and were doing nothing else productive in our lives, we got rid of the T.V. and to this day, we still don't have T.V. in the home. Well, that is to say, no cable, no antennae, no signal. We do watch a lot of DVD's at home on a decent T.V. but no programming.
The evils of T.V.? Well, for one thing, I think T.V. causes or at least exacerbates ADD/ADHD. Think about it: T.V. has about 6 minutes of a "show" during which the scenes change, probably every 30 seconds or so. Then you have 5 or 6 minutes of commercials where the commercial itself changes every 30 to 60 seconds and within those short time slots, the scenes change in rapid-fire style. Then, another 6 or 8 minutes of T.V. program, more commercials and on and on for as long as you're sitting there watching the show. If you get a T.V. movie, the first block and the last block are sometimes 20 or 30 minutes but they definitely make up for the lost time by using longer commercial breaks for the remainder of the movie.
So picture a kid there watching all this crap and having to tune in to an idea for an instant, then tune into something else for another instant, then something else, then something else, then something else, etc. etc. Is it any wonder that it's difficult for a kid to learn to focus on any one thing for very long?
Of course, there is the complete lack of physical activity, the loss of time which could be spent learning to play the piano or build airplanes or just ride bikes or something else which is actually productive. The "passiveness" of T.V. is simply destructive. Rest assured, there are plenty of kids who, if school weren't "required," would spend their entire days in front of the damn thing and probably do during summer breaks. Parents too, for that matter.
And parents. They make a sad case for T.V. when they frequently say, "But it's such a good babysitter!" Well, okay, I can see using it on occasion when you need a break or need to get some work done without kid distractions. But often enough, it seems parents are using it more as a crutch day by day rather than as an aid from time to time. I don't know. I don't have kids but it seems there HAS to be a better way to discharge your responsibility as a parent as opposed to letting the kids watch T.V. so much and taking the risk of ruining their mental and physical health in the process.
T.V. has provided for the pacification of people in many ways. I think a great many people are plenty content to be happy as long as they have "Sports Center," "CNN" or "General Hospital" available whenever they want it. Who gives a rat's ass about politics when you can be titillated by the MUCH more exciting "Apprentice?!" Why bother writing to a senator or other representative about your opinion when your opinion is being dictated to you by a nameless source on T.V.?
People have been squashed by it. Not to be a dire predictor of doom, but it seems we have allowed T.V. to become our new god, in spite of whatever religion we may profess to believe in. "I heard it on T.V." will become the 11th commandment if it hasn't already!
--Wag--
Bear in mind, this was before 1970.
It made a huge impression on me. From that point on, until I left home at 17, Mom and Dad were at least conscientious about keeping books in the home for us. Bought encyclopedias for us, read to us at night before bed, the works. We had a very good collection of books for as long as I can remember. My grandparents, being professional eductors also contributed to our library and it was rather substantial and of rather high quality and diversity. Their efforts instilled a love of reading within me at a very young age. I suspect that part of it was a desire to escape the misery of the real world in a Louis L'Amour book, but that's beyond the scope of this text. There are only a very few things which my parents gave to me which are of value and this is probably the biggest and the best favor they ever did for me.
As I grew up and got good at reading, I spent a majority of my time in the library at school, reading everything I could get my hands on. At 7 years old while I was in 2nd grade, I was testing for reading and comprehension ability. As the test was evaluated, I was told I was at a second year university level on both counts. Can we say, "high potential?" I was reading 1,200 wpm which, I've been told, is pretty good. I've never tested for these traits since that time.
NOT having a T.V. was a stigma to us growing up. All of our friends thought we were weird or that our parents were. The latter had pity on us and we took frequent occasion to ask to spend Friday nights at these various friends' homes so we could watch cartoons on Saturday mornings. Summer afternoons were often wasted away watching T.V. shows like "Star Trek" and "Lost in Space." None of these shows really appealed to me since they couldn't compete with the visualizations I created while reading. It was too tough to suspend disbelief with visual effects that, well, sucked. That is, until Star Wars came out. But, since that was only a movie, I couldn't very well watch it every day, either.
Reading seems to have been a positive influence on me in several ways. Back then, I read a lot of fiction which was probably not as good for me as one might think. However, it was a good way for me to learn to spell rather well, to read fast, read well and comprehend readily. I also learned to write fairly well, though I couldn't begin to tell you what a dangling participle is or any other grammatical structure beyond nouns and verbs! Basically, I imitate other people and go with what sounds good. Here, I have to give very high credit to my grandfather who taught me more about writing in one year than most people learn in a lifetime.
By reading mostly fiction and fantasy, however, I missed out on a lot of the classics of literature. To this day, I haven't read Moby Dick, Shakespeare, etc. etc. The classics people normally speak of still have no part of my reading history. I did start to read Harper Lee's, "To Kill a Mockingbird," but it got really boring so maybe I'm just not quite smart enough for the "classics."
Back to television, to round this off, I find that it's a prime waste of time. There was a time early in our marriage when my wife and I bought a T.V. Granted, there are things like the news which have SOME redeeming qualities, SOMEtimes. I loved things like the History Channel, Discovery Channel, Animal Planet, etc. etc. Very good programming most of the time. But even now, I just find that I'd rather put in some time reading a good book or working at the piano. T.V. is a total distraction and unnecessary at that.
When we did have a T.V., I was appalled one day to notice I was scheduling my life around the programming. "No, we won't be able to make it to your party on Friday because we have other plans." The plans were, laughably, watching "Cheers" among other things. How pathetic is that?!! Well, maybe it was just us. But at some point, when we realized we were addicted to it and were doing nothing else productive in our lives, we got rid of the T.V. and to this day, we still don't have T.V. in the home. Well, that is to say, no cable, no antennae, no signal. We do watch a lot of DVD's at home on a decent T.V. but no programming.
The evils of T.V.? Well, for one thing, I think T.V. causes or at least exacerbates ADD/ADHD. Think about it: T.V. has about 6 minutes of a "show" during which the scenes change, probably every 30 seconds or so. Then you have 5 or 6 minutes of commercials where the commercial itself changes every 30 to 60 seconds and within those short time slots, the scenes change in rapid-fire style. Then, another 6 or 8 minutes of T.V. program, more commercials and on and on for as long as you're sitting there watching the show. If you get a T.V. movie, the first block and the last block are sometimes 20 or 30 minutes but they definitely make up for the lost time by using longer commercial breaks for the remainder of the movie.
So picture a kid there watching all this crap and having to tune in to an idea for an instant, then tune into something else for another instant, then something else, then something else, then something else, etc. etc. Is it any wonder that it's difficult for a kid to learn to focus on any one thing for very long?
Of course, there is the complete lack of physical activity, the loss of time which could be spent learning to play the piano or build airplanes or just ride bikes or something else which is actually productive. The "passiveness" of T.V. is simply destructive. Rest assured, there are plenty of kids who, if school weren't "required," would spend their entire days in front of the damn thing and probably do during summer breaks. Parents too, for that matter.
And parents. They make a sad case for T.V. when they frequently say, "But it's such a good babysitter!" Well, okay, I can see using it on occasion when you need a break or need to get some work done without kid distractions. But often enough, it seems parents are using it more as a crutch day by day rather than as an aid from time to time. I don't know. I don't have kids but it seems there HAS to be a better way to discharge your responsibility as a parent as opposed to letting the kids watch T.V. so much and taking the risk of ruining their mental and physical health in the process.
T.V. has provided for the pacification of people in many ways. I think a great many people are plenty content to be happy as long as they have "Sports Center," "CNN" or "General Hospital" available whenever they want it. Who gives a rat's ass about politics when you can be titillated by the MUCH more exciting "Apprentice?!" Why bother writing to a senator or other representative about your opinion when your opinion is being dictated to you by a nameless source on T.V.?
People have been squashed by it. Not to be a dire predictor of doom, but it seems we have allowed T.V. to become our new god, in spite of whatever religion we may profess to believe in. "I heard it on T.V." will become the 11th commandment if it hasn't already!
--Wag--
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
The Men's Bathroom.
Okay, if you've never been to a men's room before, this is how it is.
When you walk in the door, you'll notice how quiet it is. Sounds are heard in descending order, thusly: Zippers flying up and down (if you can hear really well). Less frequently, flushing urinals and toilets. Less often yet, the sound of water running into a sink. Most rare of all, a paper towel being ripped from a holder on the wall. Notice what's missing? Conversation. Nobody is allowed to talk in a men's room.
That isn't to say it never happens. If two guys go into a men's room while they're in the middle of a conversation, they will pause, both will automatically assess whether or not there are other people in the bathroom and if they are the only two men in the bathroom, the conversation will resume. But only if they are really good friends. Rest assured, if someone else walks in while they are talking, the conversation will be put on hold instantly, to be continued outside the room. No man will ever strike up a conversation with a stranger in the bathroom and most assuredly will not do so at the urinal.
Absolutely under no circumstances, however, is a conversation ever going to be held if one or both go in to use the commode. That wall between the bowls is there for a reason and it ain't just to hold the paper rolls, either. No conversation is allowed through the doors or walls of the stalls!
This is why a man will never ask another man in the stall next to him for paper. He would rather whip out his pocket knife, cut his underwear off and wipe with those than ask for paper from another man in the next stall. He won't make a sound, either. The knife will be deadly silent in it's operation. Or if he can't keep it quiet, ie., he has to tear them off because he forgot his knife, he'll wait until there is nobody else anywhere in the bathroom so he can rip them off his body without anyone hearing him. If he's lucky, he's seated in such a way as to be able to still reach the toilet seat covers and use one of them. Who cares if it scratches the hell out of his asshole. Better that than be reduced to begging for paper. Most of the time, however, guys will check the roll before they walk in so it's really a rather rare problem.
On occasion, however, someone will be in a hurry because he's cramping up or something stupid and misses that crucial step along the way. He's going commando and there are no seat covers. What he does behind that door at that point is between him and whatever god he prays to and then he'll wash his hands but you won't see him do it.
The only exception to the no talking rules is if a man brings his young son into the restroom and the kid is talking 'cause the old man hasn't properly trained him yet. Of course, the father will be highly embarrassed and that is why a man prefers to have his wife take the little kid to the bathroom with her instead. If he brings his little daughter in, it's even worse because they HAVE to use the stalls and they invariably have to talk in there to complete the job successfully and the poor father is double-whammied, having to talk in the men's room AND talking behind the door of the stall.
Guys are not allowed to make physical contact with another man in the bathroom. Even by accident. If a man inadvertendly bumps into another man while in the bathroom, both will look the other way and pretend it never happened. Which means it never did happen. Only girlie-men make any kind of physical contact while in a bathroom.
A man is not allowed to use a urinal next to another man unless there is absolutely NO other urinal to be used. If a man goes into a restroom and he is the only one in there, he is obligated to take one of the end of the row because if some other man walks in, he is required by law to take the urinal the farthest possible distance from the previous man. Yeah, it's written law. Go look it up.
If there are two men pissing at opposite ends of the row when a third man walks in, said third man is to take the urinal which is exactly between the other two men, thus maximizing the distance between all men involved. Ideally, if a man walks into a bathroom and there are men at every other urinal (every other urinal is not being used at the moment), he is to check the stalls first before using a urinal which would require him to stand next to two other peeing men. Either that or wait until someone leaves. And yes, since you're thinking it, all men's rooms are required to have an odd number of urinals. Whenever you see a men's room with an even number of urinals, you can bet it was designed that way by a woman who hates men.
At no time is a man to make eye contact with another man in a bathroom. This is especially true if they are at the urinal holding their peckers in their hands. You're not allowed to look at another man if you have your dick in your hands, nor are you to look at another man while he's holding his dick. If you're both standing there, dick in hand, you are both to look straight at the wall in front of you and pretend the other guy isn't even there. Never, never, never sneak a glance at another man's package, even if you are curious about whether or not his dick is bigger than yours.
Jokes about guys having any kind of conversation in the bathroom aren't funny because they are completely in the realm of fantasy. There are very few such jokes anyway.
The advent of automatic flushers has made a very important rule a problem. The rule is, when you walk up to a urinal, you're supposed to flush it before you start to piss. I'm sure that's to prevent splashback. Indeed, if the water stops running down the back of the urinal before you're done peeing, you're supposed to reach up and flush again. The idea is the keep the water going until you're done. Then zip up your fly and give it one more flush before you go.
Automatic flushers, however, have really fucked this up and men have begun to be pussified because of it. I've tried various ways to fake out the auto flush devices but have failed miserably. Besides, even if you can get the first preliminary flush going, it never lasts long enough. Stopping your flow, stepping back to get another flush and then stepping back up to the plate, bat in hand, is just not practical. Especially if there are other men in the room. Real men are becoming rather frustrated at a primal level because of this invention. You might be able to anticipate that men will someday march in the streets protesting this some day but there are still enough older urinals out there with manual flushers. A man can frequently find one just often enough to still his disquiet over this problem and make himself feel like a man once again.
And you never whip out your dick and wave it around so people can see it. Bad things can happen in your karma if you do. That's if bad things don't happen to your nuts because 6 guys thrashed you for exposing yourself and showing them your package.
Guys are not supposed to wash their hands after using the bathroom. The ones who do are pussified and you always know they have a wife or girlfriend outside the john, waiting to see if their hands smell like soap. If they don't smell of soap, the bitch leaves the guy standing there at the theater, wishing he'd washed his hands and looking very sad, like he's going to cry. These are the same wanna-be's you see holding purses outside the ladies dressing rooms at the clothing store. Real men don't wash their hands and their tough bitch women don't ask 'cause they know what answer they're going to get: "I didn't wash my hands because I didn't piss on my hands. What the fuck are you worried about?!!!"
And that's what it's like in a Men's Room!
--Wag--
When you walk in the door, you'll notice how quiet it is. Sounds are heard in descending order, thusly: Zippers flying up and down (if you can hear really well). Less frequently, flushing urinals and toilets. Less often yet, the sound of water running into a sink. Most rare of all, a paper towel being ripped from a holder on the wall. Notice what's missing? Conversation. Nobody is allowed to talk in a men's room.
That isn't to say it never happens. If two guys go into a men's room while they're in the middle of a conversation, they will pause, both will automatically assess whether or not there are other people in the bathroom and if they are the only two men in the bathroom, the conversation will resume. But only if they are really good friends. Rest assured, if someone else walks in while they are talking, the conversation will be put on hold instantly, to be continued outside the room. No man will ever strike up a conversation with a stranger in the bathroom and most assuredly will not do so at the urinal.
Absolutely under no circumstances, however, is a conversation ever going to be held if one or both go in to use the commode. That wall between the bowls is there for a reason and it ain't just to hold the paper rolls, either. No conversation is allowed through the doors or walls of the stalls!
This is why a man will never ask another man in the stall next to him for paper. He would rather whip out his pocket knife, cut his underwear off and wipe with those than ask for paper from another man in the next stall. He won't make a sound, either. The knife will be deadly silent in it's operation. Or if he can't keep it quiet, ie., he has to tear them off because he forgot his knife, he'll wait until there is nobody else anywhere in the bathroom so he can rip them off his body without anyone hearing him. If he's lucky, he's seated in such a way as to be able to still reach the toilet seat covers and use one of them. Who cares if it scratches the hell out of his asshole. Better that than be reduced to begging for paper. Most of the time, however, guys will check the roll before they walk in so it's really a rather rare problem.
On occasion, however, someone will be in a hurry because he's cramping up or something stupid and misses that crucial step along the way. He's going commando and there are no seat covers. What he does behind that door at that point is between him and whatever god he prays to and then he'll wash his hands but you won't see him do it.
The only exception to the no talking rules is if a man brings his young son into the restroom and the kid is talking 'cause the old man hasn't properly trained him yet. Of course, the father will be highly embarrassed and that is why a man prefers to have his wife take the little kid to the bathroom with her instead. If he brings his little daughter in, it's even worse because they HAVE to use the stalls and they invariably have to talk in there to complete the job successfully and the poor father is double-whammied, having to talk in the men's room AND talking behind the door of the stall.
Guys are not allowed to make physical contact with another man in the bathroom. Even by accident. If a man inadvertendly bumps into another man while in the bathroom, both will look the other way and pretend it never happened. Which means it never did happen. Only girlie-men make any kind of physical contact while in a bathroom.
A man is not allowed to use a urinal next to another man unless there is absolutely NO other urinal to be used. If a man goes into a restroom and he is the only one in there, he is obligated to take one of the end of the row because if some other man walks in, he is required by law to take the urinal the farthest possible distance from the previous man. Yeah, it's written law. Go look it up.
If there are two men pissing at opposite ends of the row when a third man walks in, said third man is to take the urinal which is exactly between the other two men, thus maximizing the distance between all men involved. Ideally, if a man walks into a bathroom and there are men at every other urinal (every other urinal is not being used at the moment), he is to check the stalls first before using a urinal which would require him to stand next to two other peeing men. Either that or wait until someone leaves. And yes, since you're thinking it, all men's rooms are required to have an odd number of urinals. Whenever you see a men's room with an even number of urinals, you can bet it was designed that way by a woman who hates men.
At no time is a man to make eye contact with another man in a bathroom. This is especially true if they are at the urinal holding their peckers in their hands. You're not allowed to look at another man if you have your dick in your hands, nor are you to look at another man while he's holding his dick. If you're both standing there, dick in hand, you are both to look straight at the wall in front of you and pretend the other guy isn't even there. Never, never, never sneak a glance at another man's package, even if you are curious about whether or not his dick is bigger than yours.
Jokes about guys having any kind of conversation in the bathroom aren't funny because they are completely in the realm of fantasy. There are very few such jokes anyway.
The advent of automatic flushers has made a very important rule a problem. The rule is, when you walk up to a urinal, you're supposed to flush it before you start to piss. I'm sure that's to prevent splashback. Indeed, if the water stops running down the back of the urinal before you're done peeing, you're supposed to reach up and flush again. The idea is the keep the water going until you're done. Then zip up your fly and give it one more flush before you go.
Automatic flushers, however, have really fucked this up and men have begun to be pussified because of it. I've tried various ways to fake out the auto flush devices but have failed miserably. Besides, even if you can get the first preliminary flush going, it never lasts long enough. Stopping your flow, stepping back to get another flush and then stepping back up to the plate, bat in hand, is just not practical. Especially if there are other men in the room. Real men are becoming rather frustrated at a primal level because of this invention. You might be able to anticipate that men will someday march in the streets protesting this some day but there are still enough older urinals out there with manual flushers. A man can frequently find one just often enough to still his disquiet over this problem and make himself feel like a man once again.
And you never whip out your dick and wave it around so people can see it. Bad things can happen in your karma if you do. That's if bad things don't happen to your nuts because 6 guys thrashed you for exposing yourself and showing them your package.
Guys are not supposed to wash their hands after using the bathroom. The ones who do are pussified and you always know they have a wife or girlfriend outside the john, waiting to see if their hands smell like soap. If they don't smell of soap, the bitch leaves the guy standing there at the theater, wishing he'd washed his hands and looking very sad, like he's going to cry. These are the same wanna-be's you see holding purses outside the ladies dressing rooms at the clothing store. Real men don't wash their hands and their tough bitch women don't ask 'cause they know what answer they're going to get: "I didn't wash my hands because I didn't piss on my hands. What the fuck are you worried about?!!!"
And that's what it's like in a Men's Room!
--Wag--
Friday, September 10, 2004
Wedding advice
For those of you about to get married, here are some suggestions. I sent this off to another individual elsewhere who is about to get married. He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders and that's a good thing. The idea here is to get people thinking and talking to each other. You'd be amazed at how often people rush into marriage without considering the whole proposition ( pun intended! ;) ) with some intelligence. I'm constantly amazed at how many couples are getting naked together or planning to get naked together but they can't seem to disucss important issues with each other.
Here you go!
Congrats, Bud! I've been married 15 years, myself. Here's how we did it:
Start off on the right foot. Talk about and plan EVERYTHING with her before you actually tie the knot. Here's the short list:
-Kids. Will you or won't you and how many? Will one of you stay home and raise 'em while the other works? Why or why not? If one of you wants kids and the other doesn't, don't do it! Especially if she wants 'em and you don't. We don't have kids but that's a long story. Bottom line is, to have kids requires you to change your lifestyle drastically. How do ALL of the below topics et al relate to having kids?
-Sex. How often? How kinky? What fantasies have you not fulfilled? Is she rockin' your world? Are you rockin' hers? Will she do the ol' bait-and-switch on you and cut you off after the wedding cake is cut up? Ask her, brother! Make sure those things are fixed BEFORE you tie the knot! Decide in advance what kinds of things are off limits to each of you and decide how to experiment with each other.
-Money. Joint accounts? Separate accounts? Who will pay the bills? Which ones go to which of you for payment? Do you have a problem with her making more money than you? Does she? Will she lose respect for you if you're not making enough money? Are you both responsible or spendy? Can you save? Do you actually do it? Bottom line here is, you have to live within your means and you have to figure out how to do it. And if either of you have wealthy parents, remember, taking handouts from them can have a tendency to damage your self-respect. Tread carefully with money throughout your marriage. Also, talk about debt and what kinds of debt are tolerable to you both, if any.
-School. If either of you are not done with school, are you going to try to finish after you're married? Before? Are both of you willing to endure the crap involved in supporting the other in the meantime? I sweartagawd, finish school before you have kids at least. Preferably before you get married but . . . .
-Career. Can have an effect on where you live, mostly. In other words, is the career of one of you going to interfere with the ability of the other to pursue a different career. But if one of you is in a dangerous career, ie. Cop, Firefighter, Crossing Guard (j/k!) will that cause a problem with the other of you?
-Friends. Do you like each other's friends? Are you planning to hang out with each other's friends? Will she start bad-mouthing your buds? You hers? Always remember who's side you're on if you get into an argument about your friends or hers.
-Family. When you marry her, you marry her whole family, usually. Even if you don't like 'em. That's okay, just make sure you both realize there could be differences. Again, remember who's side you're on if disagreements occur. Also, how close to them are you willing to live? If yours and hers are across the state or country, which family will you live close to, hers or yers? Or neither?
-Living (Where?) Southern California is great! I highly recommend it! ;-) Seriously, talk about this, too.
-Housekeeping. Are either of you slobs? Who gets to clean house? If the one of you who stays home with the kids is a messy house keeper, is that going to be a huge problem for the other? Sounds like a stupid question but when you come home to a sink full of dishes, and it really pisses you off, it makes it tough to get past other things that come up. Remember, a maid can save your marriage! ;-)
-Pre-marital counselling. Go get it. You need to know how to effectively communicate with each other. We didn't do this until we had been married about two years and it nearly cost us a great marriage. 'nuff said about that.
-Prenup. Someone suggested this before and if you have significant assets at this point, it is well worth it to get one. But if you're both dirt poor like we were when we married don't waste your $$$. It won't help you in any way. Bear in mind, ANYTHING can go into a prenup including all the stuff above.
-Live together first. I usually suggest that people live together for five years first. But do what you think is best. You'll know the time in any case!
Obviously, you don't have to talk about all this stuff in one big jam session but over the course of your engagement, hash all of this crap out. It made a HUGE difference in our marriage.
And what others have said before is very true: The first year will be tough. Actually, for us, the first year was pretty good, the second was pure hell and after we finally got the counselling we should have gotten before our marriage, we have done better and better since. I've noticed that the majority of the divorces I know of personally happened in about the third or fourth year.
Get advice from people. If you think the above is bunk I won't be the least offended 'cause it's just my opinion, of course, but find someone you DO trust to give you the advice you think you need.
Lastly, I WHOLEHEARTEDLY second the motion of eloping. Take the money you would have paid for a wedding reception and run off the Vegas or Atlantic City and get hitched with a couple of close friends in tow. The smaller the better. We were married in a pastor's office at 10:30pm on a Tuesday night with 6 family members in attendance. Perfect!
--Wag--
Here you go!
Congrats, Bud! I've been married 15 years, myself. Here's how we did it:
Start off on the right foot. Talk about and plan EVERYTHING with her before you actually tie the knot. Here's the short list:
-Kids. Will you or won't you and how many? Will one of you stay home and raise 'em while the other works? Why or why not? If one of you wants kids and the other doesn't, don't do it! Especially if she wants 'em and you don't. We don't have kids but that's a long story. Bottom line is, to have kids requires you to change your lifestyle drastically. How do ALL of the below topics et al relate to having kids?
-Sex. How often? How kinky? What fantasies have you not fulfilled? Is she rockin' your world? Are you rockin' hers? Will she do the ol' bait-and-switch on you and cut you off after the wedding cake is cut up? Ask her, brother! Make sure those things are fixed BEFORE you tie the knot! Decide in advance what kinds of things are off limits to each of you and decide how to experiment with each other.
-Money. Joint accounts? Separate accounts? Who will pay the bills? Which ones go to which of you for payment? Do you have a problem with her making more money than you? Does she? Will she lose respect for you if you're not making enough money? Are you both responsible or spendy? Can you save? Do you actually do it? Bottom line here is, you have to live within your means and you have to figure out how to do it. And if either of you have wealthy parents, remember, taking handouts from them can have a tendency to damage your self-respect. Tread carefully with money throughout your marriage. Also, talk about debt and what kinds of debt are tolerable to you both, if any.
-School. If either of you are not done with school, are you going to try to finish after you're married? Before? Are both of you willing to endure the crap involved in supporting the other in the meantime? I sweartagawd, finish school before you have kids at least. Preferably before you get married but . . . .
-Career. Can have an effect on where you live, mostly. In other words, is the career of one of you going to interfere with the ability of the other to pursue a different career. But if one of you is in a dangerous career, ie. Cop, Firefighter, Crossing Guard (j/k!) will that cause a problem with the other of you?
-Friends. Do you like each other's friends? Are you planning to hang out with each other's friends? Will she start bad-mouthing your buds? You hers? Always remember who's side you're on if you get into an argument about your friends or hers.
-Family. When you marry her, you marry her whole family, usually. Even if you don't like 'em. That's okay, just make sure you both realize there could be differences. Again, remember who's side you're on if disagreements occur. Also, how close to them are you willing to live? If yours and hers are across the state or country, which family will you live close to, hers or yers? Or neither?
-Living (Where?) Southern California is great! I highly recommend it! ;-) Seriously, talk about this, too.
-Housekeeping. Are either of you slobs? Who gets to clean house? If the one of you who stays home with the kids is a messy house keeper, is that going to be a huge problem for the other? Sounds like a stupid question but when you come home to a sink full of dishes, and it really pisses you off, it makes it tough to get past other things that come up. Remember, a maid can save your marriage! ;-)
-Pre-marital counselling. Go get it. You need to know how to effectively communicate with each other. We didn't do this until we had been married about two years and it nearly cost us a great marriage. 'nuff said about that.
-Prenup. Someone suggested this before and if you have significant assets at this point, it is well worth it to get one. But if you're both dirt poor like we were when we married don't waste your $$$. It won't help you in any way. Bear in mind, ANYTHING can go into a prenup including all the stuff above.
-Live together first. I usually suggest that people live together for five years first. But do what you think is best. You'll know the time in any case!
Obviously, you don't have to talk about all this stuff in one big jam session but over the course of your engagement, hash all of this crap out. It made a HUGE difference in our marriage.
And what others have said before is very true: The first year will be tough. Actually, for us, the first year was pretty good, the second was pure hell and after we finally got the counselling we should have gotten before our marriage, we have done better and better since. I've noticed that the majority of the divorces I know of personally happened in about the third or fourth year.
Get advice from people. If you think the above is bunk I won't be the least offended 'cause it's just my opinion, of course, but find someone you DO trust to give you the advice you think you need.
Lastly, I WHOLEHEARTEDLY second the motion of eloping. Take the money you would have paid for a wedding reception and run off the Vegas or Atlantic City and get hitched with a couple of close friends in tow. The smaller the better. We were married in a pastor's office at 10:30pm on a Tuesday night with 6 family members in attendance. Perfect!
--Wag--
Thursday, September 09, 2004
Driving Test
Today is the day. CA DMV requires a driving test before they issue a motorcycle license. So, I'm going out at noon to do that test.
Apparently, you have to drive around some cones, etc. etc. Just demonstrating that you can handle your motorcycle. Problem is, the cone test allegedly has the cones placed pretty close together and according to everyone I've talked to, it can't be done on the bigger bikes, such as the one I bought recently. (See my "Dang" post below.)
But, since I didn't locate a smaller bike for rent anywhere, I'm pretty much stuck with my 'Busa and the little bit of parking lot practice I engaged in over the past couple of weeks with my learner's permit.
Wish me luck!
--Wag--
Apparently, you have to drive around some cones, etc. etc. Just demonstrating that you can handle your motorcycle. Problem is, the cone test allegedly has the cones placed pretty close together and according to everyone I've talked to, it can't be done on the bigger bikes, such as the one I bought recently. (See my "Dang" post below.)
But, since I didn't locate a smaller bike for rent anywhere, I'm pretty much stuck with my 'Busa and the little bit of parking lot practice I engaged in over the past couple of weeks with my learner's permit.
Wish me luck!
--Wag--
Monday, August 30, 2004
Dang
Been a long damn time since I posted anything.
Update: Passed the Calculus class with an 'A.' Kudos to me. Whatta relief the class is over.
Come to think of it, regarding education, it seems to be going downhill fast. Frankly, that Calculus 'A' is the first grade I've had to actually WORK for in a great many years. And believe you me, I'm no rocket scientist brainiac. But school has certainly been no challenge to me, rest assured. Any of you think school is difficult these days?
Eh. Who am I to complain? I feel for parents, however. The people with smart kids have to deal with bored smart kids. That's a dangerous combination, to be sure. A smart kid who's bored. I can't even imagine what kinds of evil such a child could come up with. Scary, isn't it?
Update: Going up to Salt Lake City in October for the Exmormon Conference. Should be good. Last year was very good.
Update: Bought a Hayabusa two weeks ago. VERY cool! Here's a picture: http://www.orangecountysuzuki.com/new_vehicle_detail.asp?sid=5529422E-02X8K30K2004J1I29I35JPMQ1331R0&veh=6005&pov=116791
Let me know what you think! Wanna go riding in So. CA? Drop me a line.
--Wag--
Update: Passed the Calculus class with an 'A.' Kudos to me. Whatta relief the class is over.
Come to think of it, regarding education, it seems to be going downhill fast. Frankly, that Calculus 'A' is the first grade I've had to actually WORK for in a great many years. And believe you me, I'm no rocket scientist brainiac. But school has certainly been no challenge to me, rest assured. Any of you think school is difficult these days?
Eh. Who am I to complain? I feel for parents, however. The people with smart kids have to deal with bored smart kids. That's a dangerous combination, to be sure. A smart kid who's bored. I can't even imagine what kinds of evil such a child could come up with. Scary, isn't it?
Update: Going up to Salt Lake City in October for the Exmormon Conference. Should be good. Last year was very good.
Update: Bought a Hayabusa two weeks ago. VERY cool! Here's a picture: http://www.orangecountysuzuki.com/new_vehicle_detail.asp?sid=5529422E-02X8K30K2004J1I29I35JPMQ1331R0&veh=6005&pov=116791
Let me know what you think! Wanna go riding in So. CA? Drop me a line.
--Wag--
Friday, July 23, 2004
Sex Education
I posted the following elsewhere in response to another person's post. Although it was started in response to her post, I think you'll get the gist if you start in the middle of our discussion here.
--------------------------------------
It isn't a liberal vs. conservative debate though judging from the viewpoints of the participants it could be seen as such. The misperception of the real problem is what gets people thinking about this issue dogmatically and myopically and therefore debating about it from a very weak position. They simply don't wish to give the other side the credibility they deserve. And that's just plain stupid.
To wit, the "conservatives" rightly claim through much of their diatribe that the responsibility for educating kids about sex lies with the parents. And they decry those who would usurp their ability or right to do so. I wholly agree with that premise. The problem is, most parents, especially conservatives, don't or won't teach their kids about sex. If they talk about it at all, it's very frequently on a minimus level and it's couched as an embarrassing topic, if not in the words chosen during discussions, then definitely by the tone of voice and the body language of the parent squirming like a bug stuck on a pin. It's a supreme form of hypocrisy. So, to qualify the credit given a second ago, I agree with the thought and the principle of parents teaching their kids about sex and their responsibility to do so but the reality is, most parents . . . . Okay, I'm repeating myself.
Which demands, by the necessity created by chicken-shit parents, public sex education. Here's where the "liberals" get it right. Kids are going to have sex as soon as they learn about it or the moment they hit puberty, whichever comes first. Who's going to stop them? Parents aren't home most of the time and kids have a lot of unsupervised time, more than ever and earlier and earlier in their lives. To wit, it used to be that kids didn't have sex until they could drive a car, now they have a key to the house at age 11 for when they come home from school for three hours of alone time before momma comes home from work. Hell, kids have been having sex throughout all history even when they WERE being watched every minute of every day by their parents. Does anyone think they're going to stop now when by comparison, they have very little supervision?
Not a chance.
So, if we know they're going to have sex, let's teach them how to do it right. No, I'm not talking about breaking out the Kama Sutra for their ultimate pleasure though it could easily be debated that such is a good thing, especially for kids new at sex. What I'm talking about is teaching kids how NOT to fuck up their lives with sex. (Now there's a double-take!) Because you're not going to stop kids from having sex.
At least teach them how to prevent pregnancy and WHY preventing pregnancy at their age is a good thing. Teach them how to minimize their chances of disease so they don't go around spreading it if they have it or getting it if they don't have it. It's very simple: you're not going to stop kids from having sex.
I'm not a proponent of abortion as birth control, necessarily but I am a proponent of birth control as abortion prevention. This is the only territory where it becomes a legitimate liberal vs. conservative argument. But one of the many ways in which conservatives kick themselves in the nuts is they forget that abortions are primarily caused by irresponsible sex. Read that: Uneducated irresponsible sexual practices. Kids who get pregnant "by mistake" did it because they didn't know about any form of birth-control because their shy, embarrassed (selfish) parents didn't teach them about it. But the same people who are against abortion aren't doing their jobs to prevent it, ie., teaching their kids how not to get pregnane when they have sex because dammit, As much as you might like to, you're not going to stop them from having sex.
Why do I say selfish? Because the parents are more interested in preserving their so-called dignity or privacy or whatever they don't even consider the harm which could be caused by their kids not learning about sexual responsibility. But they don't want anyone else teaching their kids about it either. Utterly insane.
As I alluded to at the beginning of this post, it shouldn't be about politics. It's a life debate. And the prevention of one of life's disasters. Or more importantly, about taking one of life's greatest pleasures and keeping it from becoming one of life's greatest disasters. Here is an issue which should be the MOST non-political of them all and yet, it tends to be one of the most political. All the more reason to believe both sides are badly weakened by their own dogma on this issue.
So, all you antagonists of Sex Ed, bring on ANY objection which can be raised about prevention of sex education, public or private, and I'll blast you with my keyboard bazooka over it.
'Cause prevention of Sex Ed at any level is the prevention of life itself.
--Wag--
P.S. I should mention that I, myself, do not have kids, originally not by choice but as time has passed, we're actually glad we don't. Having said that, one might ask, "How the hell does he know anything about what it's like to have to teach a kid about sex?" Look, stupid, I was a kid once and dang. Wouldn't you know it? I was screwed up by my own anal retentive parents and it would sure be nice if I knew that someone else were being spared that fate.
--------------------------------------
It isn't a liberal vs. conservative debate though judging from the viewpoints of the participants it could be seen as such. The misperception of the real problem is what gets people thinking about this issue dogmatically and myopically and therefore debating about it from a very weak position. They simply don't wish to give the other side the credibility they deserve. And that's just plain stupid.
To wit, the "conservatives" rightly claim through much of their diatribe that the responsibility for educating kids about sex lies with the parents. And they decry those who would usurp their ability or right to do so. I wholly agree with that premise. The problem is, most parents, especially conservatives, don't or won't teach their kids about sex. If they talk about it at all, it's very frequently on a minimus level and it's couched as an embarrassing topic, if not in the words chosen during discussions, then definitely by the tone of voice and the body language of the parent squirming like a bug stuck on a pin. It's a supreme form of hypocrisy. So, to qualify the credit given a second ago, I agree with the thought and the principle of parents teaching their kids about sex and their responsibility to do so but the reality is, most parents . . . . Okay, I'm repeating myself.
Which demands, by the necessity created by chicken-shit parents, public sex education. Here's where the "liberals" get it right. Kids are going to have sex as soon as they learn about it or the moment they hit puberty, whichever comes first. Who's going to stop them? Parents aren't home most of the time and kids have a lot of unsupervised time, more than ever and earlier and earlier in their lives. To wit, it used to be that kids didn't have sex until they could drive a car, now they have a key to the house at age 11 for when they come home from school for three hours of alone time before momma comes home from work. Hell, kids have been having sex throughout all history even when they WERE being watched every minute of every day by their parents. Does anyone think they're going to stop now when by comparison, they have very little supervision?
Not a chance.
So, if we know they're going to have sex, let's teach them how to do it right. No, I'm not talking about breaking out the Kama Sutra for their ultimate pleasure though it could easily be debated that such is a good thing, especially for kids new at sex. What I'm talking about is teaching kids how NOT to fuck up their lives with sex. (Now there's a double-take!) Because you're not going to stop kids from having sex.
At least teach them how to prevent pregnancy and WHY preventing pregnancy at their age is a good thing. Teach them how to minimize their chances of disease so they don't go around spreading it if they have it or getting it if they don't have it. It's very simple: you're not going to stop kids from having sex.
I'm not a proponent of abortion as birth control, necessarily but I am a proponent of birth control as abortion prevention. This is the only territory where it becomes a legitimate liberal vs. conservative argument. But one of the many ways in which conservatives kick themselves in the nuts is they forget that abortions are primarily caused by irresponsible sex. Read that: Uneducated irresponsible sexual practices. Kids who get pregnant "by mistake" did it because they didn't know about any form of birth-control because their shy, embarrassed (selfish) parents didn't teach them about it. But the same people who are against abortion aren't doing their jobs to prevent it, ie., teaching their kids how not to get pregnane when they have sex because dammit, As much as you might like to, you're not going to stop them from having sex.
Why do I say selfish? Because the parents are more interested in preserving their so-called dignity or privacy or whatever they don't even consider the harm which could be caused by their kids not learning about sexual responsibility. But they don't want anyone else teaching their kids about it either. Utterly insane.
As I alluded to at the beginning of this post, it shouldn't be about politics. It's a life debate. And the prevention of one of life's disasters. Or more importantly, about taking one of life's greatest pleasures and keeping it from becoming one of life's greatest disasters. Here is an issue which should be the MOST non-political of them all and yet, it tends to be one of the most political. All the more reason to believe both sides are badly weakened by their own dogma on this issue.
So, all you antagonists of Sex Ed, bring on ANY objection which can be raised about prevention of sex education, public or private, and I'll blast you with my keyboard bazooka over it.
'Cause prevention of Sex Ed at any level is the prevention of life itself.
--Wag--
P.S. I should mention that I, myself, do not have kids, originally not by choice but as time has passed, we're actually glad we don't. Having said that, one might ask, "How the hell does he know anything about what it's like to have to teach a kid about sex?" Look, stupid, I was a kid once and dang. Wouldn't you know it? I was screwed up by my own anal retentive parents and it would sure be nice if I knew that someone else were being spared that fate.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Calculus Update
I should update my progress in my Calculus Class. This has been a geek's adventure, I assure you. Tonight begins my fourth week of the eight-week summer course. Normally, it's 16-weeks which is to say I'm really bustin' my hump to learn this shit in a maniacally fast, compressed course. Do you think the instructor will cut us any slack as to how much material we cover? Nope. The entire textbook is listed on on syllabus and she's right on track with all of it so far.
Yeesh. (And if you think the word "yeesh" is outdated and old-fashioned, you're right. Who cares?)
Last week's experience was an eye-opener: We had our first big exam but before I tell you how I did, you have to listen to this story first. Unless you hate my stories, then skip to the bottom and find the score. And on your way down there, blow me.
So, the weekend before last, July 2, to be precise, I spent all evening after work on Friday studying until 10:00pm. Then all day Saturday studying from 8:00am to 10:00pm. Then Sunday, I taught piano from 9am to 10:30am, then did bookkeeping work for a client until 2:00pm, then came home and studied from 2:30pm until 10:30pm. Monday, I had the day off from work and studied from 8:00am to 6:00pm and my brain finally said, "Fuck you, Wag. I'm not working on this any more." I told my brain, "Me either," and closed everything up and went to a movie with my woman. Spider Man 2, I think.
And after all that, I didn't feel any more competent with derivatives and differentiation than I had on Friday evening before I started that marathon. Damn.
Tuesday, I studied at lunch time and got nowhere. That evening, I asked the instructor a couple of questions and she cleared some things up. That night, I was able to make some headway, and I studied until 11:00pm. Next day, lunch, same thing; evening, instructor cleared some things up; evening study session, made a little more headway. Thursday, the day of the big exam came and at lunch, I was able to make things click. FINALLY!!! I went through the review with no troubles at all. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Whatta relief! I finally felt ready for the exam.
That evening, the instructor lectured for an hour on the next section of the class. Then a short break. Then the big moment! I was ready to shine. She hands me the test and I looked at the first question! Nothing. It was like looking at an essay about the ancient Egyptians, written in Ancient Sumerian. Crap. As I have on past tests, I read through the entire thing to see if I could at least do a couple of other questions and at least get SOMEthing right. Still nothing. The entire test was a mystery.
I turned back to page 1 and read the first problem about 500 times. Still nothing. Looked around the room at 45 other students, busily working away. Bastards. They knew what they were doing. I felt like an alien from another planet. Or at least from some other country. Damn. Now there are people getting up handing in their completed tests. Either they are 90% brains or they just gave up easier than I do. I nearly got up and surrendered myself.
What the hell. I looked at the first question again, sweat pouring from my brow. (Okay, the A/C was turned off and it was hot in there just on general principles but doesn't that sound cool? ". . . sweat pouring from my brow." Sometimes, I crack myself up!)
For whatever reason, a crack opened up on some remote part of my brain and a little pinpoint of light shone forth. "I think I understand this question all of a sudden and for no real reason at all." The answer made sense. I got excited and colored in the little box on my scantron. The next question popped out at me too and I colored that box in too! The third one as well! Hey, I'm starting to get this! (Later, I discovered that I got the third one wrong but that's the breaks.) I began working and the test was making more and more sense. I worked through everything and by the time I was done, I was one of three people left in the classroom and triumphantly handed in my test. Whew! I was done and I was confident I had actually done a good job! Well, I had.
The instructor gave me the answer key on the way out the door and I realized I had missed three questions, 9 points. I had gotten a 91. And the three I missed? One of them, I missed a minus sign. Another, I used the wrong bracket symbology. (Yes, there is a difference between "()" and "[]" if you ever take Calculus.) The third I just flat out got wrong and I suspect it was because in a long list of algebra, I missed a minus sign early on in that one too. But who knows for sure.
But a 91. Wow. I was suprised at myself, to be real frank about it. And pleased, to be sure.
And that's about as exciting and adventurous as I can make a post about Calculus. But since that's the only thing really going on in my sorry life at the moment, you'll have to take it or leave it. If you want something better, read the "Dental Times" post from May in the archive section. ;-)
--Wag--
Yeesh. (And if you think the word "yeesh" is outdated and old-fashioned, you're right. Who cares?)
Last week's experience was an eye-opener: We had our first big exam but before I tell you how I did, you have to listen to this story first. Unless you hate my stories, then skip to the bottom and find the score. And on your way down there, blow me.
So, the weekend before last, July 2, to be precise, I spent all evening after work on Friday studying until 10:00pm. Then all day Saturday studying from 8:00am to 10:00pm. Then Sunday, I taught piano from 9am to 10:30am, then did bookkeeping work for a client until 2:00pm, then came home and studied from 2:30pm until 10:30pm. Monday, I had the day off from work and studied from 8:00am to 6:00pm and my brain finally said, "Fuck you, Wag. I'm not working on this any more." I told my brain, "Me either," and closed everything up and went to a movie with my woman. Spider Man 2, I think.
And after all that, I didn't feel any more competent with derivatives and differentiation than I had on Friday evening before I started that marathon. Damn.
Tuesday, I studied at lunch time and got nowhere. That evening, I asked the instructor a couple of questions and she cleared some things up. That night, I was able to make some headway, and I studied until 11:00pm. Next day, lunch, same thing; evening, instructor cleared some things up; evening study session, made a little more headway. Thursday, the day of the big exam came and at lunch, I was able to make things click. FINALLY!!! I went through the review with no troubles at all. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Whatta relief! I finally felt ready for the exam.
That evening, the instructor lectured for an hour on the next section of the class. Then a short break. Then the big moment! I was ready to shine. She hands me the test and I looked at the first question! Nothing. It was like looking at an essay about the ancient Egyptians, written in Ancient Sumerian. Crap. As I have on past tests, I read through the entire thing to see if I could at least do a couple of other questions and at least get SOMEthing right. Still nothing. The entire test was a mystery.
I turned back to page 1 and read the first problem about 500 times. Still nothing. Looked around the room at 45 other students, busily working away. Bastards. They knew what they were doing. I felt like an alien from another planet. Or at least from some other country. Damn. Now there are people getting up handing in their completed tests. Either they are 90% brains or they just gave up easier than I do. I nearly got up and surrendered myself.
What the hell. I looked at the first question again, sweat pouring from my brow. (Okay, the A/C was turned off and it was hot in there just on general principles but doesn't that sound cool? ". . . sweat pouring from my brow." Sometimes, I crack myself up!)
For whatever reason, a crack opened up on some remote part of my brain and a little pinpoint of light shone forth. "I think I understand this question all of a sudden and for no real reason at all." The answer made sense. I got excited and colored in the little box on my scantron. The next question popped out at me too and I colored that box in too! The third one as well! Hey, I'm starting to get this! (Later, I discovered that I got the third one wrong but that's the breaks.) I began working and the test was making more and more sense. I worked through everything and by the time I was done, I was one of three people left in the classroom and triumphantly handed in my test. Whew! I was done and I was confident I had actually done a good job! Well, I had.
The instructor gave me the answer key on the way out the door and I realized I had missed three questions, 9 points. I had gotten a 91. And the three I missed? One of them, I missed a minus sign. Another, I used the wrong bracket symbology. (Yes, there is a difference between "()" and "[]" if you ever take Calculus.) The third I just flat out got wrong and I suspect it was because in a long list of algebra, I missed a minus sign early on in that one too. But who knows for sure.
But a 91. Wow. I was suprised at myself, to be real frank about it. And pleased, to be sure.
And that's about as exciting and adventurous as I can make a post about Calculus. But since that's the only thing really going on in my sorry life at the moment, you'll have to take it or leave it. If you want something better, read the "Dental Times" post from May in the archive section. ;-)
--Wag--
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
At least we had chainsaws.
While I lived in Missouri, Grandpa and I and my brothers and sometimes my deadbeat dad would go out into the forest every fall and start cutting firewood. The trick was, you had to cut it two years ahead of time in order for it to cure adequately for the stoves. We already had this year's wood stacked but we needed to get on with next year's supply. On the average, each tree would yield about a cord of wood. (Despite what people may say, it isn't physically possible to get a cord of stovewood into a standard 8' pickup truck. Sellers will sell a pickup truckload as a cord but believe you me, it ain't a cord.)
It took 23 cords for each of our families ours and grandpa's to stay warm through the winter, so we would cut a minimum of 50 trees every year, just to be sure we had enough plus a little extry. Needless to say, we only cut dead trees of which there always seemed to be plenty. Wood heat was the only heat we had for the winter, hence, the large amount of cutting we needed to do. Also needless to say is, wood heat is far more satisfying with which to warm up next to a Franklin style stove. Yet, I remember several occasions when I would wake up in the middle of the night due to the freezing cold because the fire had died out. A stack of six blankets made it possible to roll over and go back to sleep, however.
You may be familiar with the ferocity of Missouri winters in the Ozarks. One night, I jumped out of bed - and nearly right back in 'cause the floor was so cold - to find that the fire had gone completely out. Since I had to pee, I shivered my way downstairs to use the bathroom. Ever been so cold you could move around the house without walking? All you have to do is let your shivers vibrate you in the direction you're going.
Anyhow, I went over to restart the fire but the woodbox was empty. Dang. I went running back upstairs hoping the exertion would help warm me up a little. Glanced at the clock in my room as I put on a pair of pants: 2:34am. Sheesh. I stopped at the pants 'cause I figured the trip to the woodpile was going be relatively quick. I opened the door to the house and was confronted by a near-gale force wind. (Later the next morning, the weatherman announced that the temperature the prior night had dropped to -40F with a wind chill of -72F. I figure at 2:34, I hit my front door at the coldest possible part of that night.)
I nearly froze to death in the short, 100 feet to the woodpile, filling a wheelbarrow and bringing it back to the house. Remember I was only dressed in my Wranglers. No shirt, no shoes, no gloves, no coat. I barely was able to carry one armload into the house and fortunately, I had the presence of mind to bring some small pieces in with me to light a new fire. Lighting a match was a problem though. When your fingers no longer bend, you can't grip a little tiny match any more. I went to the kitchen with a tightly rolled newspaper and lit it at the stove. Dangerous, to be sure. I could've burned down the house along the way. But I didn't. Got the fire going and fortunately, it took on the first try.
An hour later, I was still warming myself by that fire. The cold was more than I'll ever be able to forget. Of course, the family was unaware of what I had done, not that it mattered. It did make me realize that over the course of the time we spent in Missouri, my father had basically kept that fire going every night for all that time and we never knew it, really. Except to complain every morning about having to refill the empty wood box and to notice we were warm and mostly toasty when we got up. When you're poor as church mice, having "free" wood heat was about as much as you could ask for.
--Wag--
It took 23 cords for each of our families ours and grandpa's to stay warm through the winter, so we would cut a minimum of 50 trees every year, just to be sure we had enough plus a little extry. Needless to say, we only cut dead trees of which there always seemed to be plenty. Wood heat was the only heat we had for the winter, hence, the large amount of cutting we needed to do. Also needless to say is, wood heat is far more satisfying with which to warm up next to a Franklin style stove. Yet, I remember several occasions when I would wake up in the middle of the night due to the freezing cold because the fire had died out. A stack of six blankets made it possible to roll over and go back to sleep, however.
You may be familiar with the ferocity of Missouri winters in the Ozarks. One night, I jumped out of bed - and nearly right back in 'cause the floor was so cold - to find that the fire had gone completely out. Since I had to pee, I shivered my way downstairs to use the bathroom. Ever been so cold you could move around the house without walking? All you have to do is let your shivers vibrate you in the direction you're going.
Anyhow, I went over to restart the fire but the woodbox was empty. Dang. I went running back upstairs hoping the exertion would help warm me up a little. Glanced at the clock in my room as I put on a pair of pants: 2:34am. Sheesh. I stopped at the pants 'cause I figured the trip to the woodpile was going be relatively quick. I opened the door to the house and was confronted by a near-gale force wind. (Later the next morning, the weatherman announced that the temperature the prior night had dropped to -40F with a wind chill of -72F. I figure at 2:34, I hit my front door at the coldest possible part of that night.)
I nearly froze to death in the short, 100 feet to the woodpile, filling a wheelbarrow and bringing it back to the house. Remember I was only dressed in my Wranglers. No shirt, no shoes, no gloves, no coat. I barely was able to carry one armload into the house and fortunately, I had the presence of mind to bring some small pieces in with me to light a new fire. Lighting a match was a problem though. When your fingers no longer bend, you can't grip a little tiny match any more. I went to the kitchen with a tightly rolled newspaper and lit it at the stove. Dangerous, to be sure. I could've burned down the house along the way. But I didn't. Got the fire going and fortunately, it took on the first try.
An hour later, I was still warming myself by that fire. The cold was more than I'll ever be able to forget. Of course, the family was unaware of what I had done, not that it mattered. It did make me realize that over the course of the time we spent in Missouri, my father had basically kept that fire going every night for all that time and we never knew it, really. Except to complain every morning about having to refill the empty wood box and to notice we were warm and mostly toasty when we got up. When you're poor as church mice, having "free" wood heat was about as much as you could ask for.
--Wag--
Wednesday, June 23, 2004
Classy Calculus
Last night, I started a Calculus Class. Bleah. I've been sweating it for about three weeks now but I need this class in order to get into the university in the fall.
Now, I'm no dummy. When I've wanted to learn something in the past, I've been able to damn well learn it and learn it well. But the fact that keeps sticking in my craw is that when I took College Algebra about 20 years ago, I pulled a very difficult "C." Add to that the fact that the first chapter of this Calculus textbook is a College Algebra review and while working through it, I discovered I really suck at it.
Still.
So, last night's class was rather an eye-opener. I followed it fairly well, however, the teacher is very fast and covered a lot of Algebraic material which I only barely caught a grip on. And this is the easy part of the class! Conceptually, I'm fine with the material. It's actually doing the work that seems to be causing me a lot of grief.
Sigh.
All in the name of making me a better person, I suppose. In some ways, this should be a fun class but now that I'm in it and spent an s-load of money getting into it, I'm going to ride it out and see if I can at least pull a "C" by the end of the class. I know, it's setting my sights low but at least I'll be able to use that to get into the University!
Wish me luck!
--Wag--
Now, I'm no dummy. When I've wanted to learn something in the past, I've been able to damn well learn it and learn it well. But the fact that keeps sticking in my craw is that when I took College Algebra about 20 years ago, I pulled a very difficult "C." Add to that the fact that the first chapter of this Calculus textbook is a College Algebra review and while working through it, I discovered I really suck at it.
Still.
So, last night's class was rather an eye-opener. I followed it fairly well, however, the teacher is very fast and covered a lot of Algebraic material which I only barely caught a grip on. And this is the easy part of the class! Conceptually, I'm fine with the material. It's actually doing the work that seems to be causing me a lot of grief.
Sigh.
All in the name of making me a better person, I suppose. In some ways, this should be a fun class but now that I'm in it and spent an s-load of money getting into it, I'm going to ride it out and see if I can at least pull a "C" by the end of the class. I know, it's setting my sights low but at least I'll be able to use that to get into the University!
Wish me luck!
--Wag--
Saturday, June 19, 2004
X1 Search Part Deaux
I suggest that it's only fair that since I ripped the X1 Search Software a minor new one (see below) I should also direct your attention to the minor rebuttal comment made by Josh. Please note his comment in response to my previous blog entry.
Regrettably, having little use for X1 Search, I have not tried it myself. (I rarely have past e-mail I have to find.)
I suggest, however, that giving your product away for free is no way to get someone to value it enough to actually install it and use it. I should add that in the software world, it is plain suspicious but I went through that already. Free products just don't merit any respect.
Ideally, Josh, my recommendation to you is to have you get some press releases out there in the hands Ziff-Davis, et. al. and have people pay for your product. Give them a discount, for cryin' out loud but don't give it away for free. I refer you back to my memory of 100's of AOL disks promising 1,000's of free hours from time to time in the past few years. Not ONCE have I ever used their product, even when free software only had to be checked for viruses.
One last thing, Josh. I did read a couple of reviews which indicate that there MAY BE spyware and adware in X1 Search. Particularly, quoting Jim Halloran from http://www.jimohalloran.com/archives/000302.html:
". . . the licence agreement . . . suggests that "adware" or "spyware" might be insalled along with X1. The relevant section of the licence agreement:
'4. Third Party Content. Your use of the Software may take you to web sites operated by third parties. We do not endorse (and those third party sites do not endorse us or the Software) nor are we affiliated with these third party web sites and we are not responsible for any content that appears on these sites.
... additional popups and redirections to third party web sites are classic symptoms of a machine with adware or spyware type programms installed. Later, the following appears in the licence...
YOU UNDERSTAND AND AGREE THAT YOU DOWNLOAD AND/OR USE THE SOFTWARE AND ALL THIRD PARTY SOFTWARE MADE AVAILABLE IN CONJUNCTION WITH OR THROUGH THE SOFTWARE AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION AND RISK'
Which suggests that third party software will be installed along with X1.
I don't know for sure whether spyware is packaged with X1 or not because I didn't install it, but the fact that the licence allows for it is enough to stop me from trying it out.
Of course most people don't read the licence, so they get away with it, but its amazing how many programs actually disclose the fact that they're installing spyware on your machine in the licence agreement."
Wag again, here:
Frankly, Josh, if there isn't any adware or spyware in X1 Search at this very moment, the license agreement leaves it wide open for future inclusion of spyware or adware, not to mention the evil, dare I say it? POPUPS!!! Woo hoo! Just what I need on my already over-burdened PC's and wideband connections!
Ergo, I won't soon be installing your software, even if you do send me another free one! Sorry. But good luck to you, nonetheless!
(Ed Foster, are you observing this one?!! heheheh)
--Wag--
Regrettably, having little use for X1 Search, I have not tried it myself. (I rarely have past e-mail I have to find.)
I suggest, however, that giving your product away for free is no way to get someone to value it enough to actually install it and use it. I should add that in the software world, it is plain suspicious but I went through that already. Free products just don't merit any respect.
Ideally, Josh, my recommendation to you is to have you get some press releases out there in the hands Ziff-Davis, et. al. and have people pay for your product. Give them a discount, for cryin' out loud but don't give it away for free. I refer you back to my memory of 100's of AOL disks promising 1,000's of free hours from time to time in the past few years. Not ONCE have I ever used their product, even when free software only had to be checked for viruses.
One last thing, Josh. I did read a couple of reviews which indicate that there MAY BE spyware and adware in X1 Search. Particularly, quoting Jim Halloran from http://www.jimohalloran.com/archives/000302.html:
". . . the licence agreement . . . suggests that "adware" or "spyware" might be insalled along with X1. The relevant section of the licence agreement:
'4. Third Party Content. Your use of the Software may take you to web sites operated by third parties. We do not endorse (and those third party sites do not endorse us or the Software) nor are we affiliated with these third party web sites and we are not responsible for any content that appears on these sites.
... additional popups and redirections to third party web sites are classic symptoms of a machine with adware or spyware type programms installed. Later, the following appears in the licence...
YOU UNDERSTAND AND AGREE THAT YOU DOWNLOAD AND/OR USE THE SOFTWARE AND ALL THIRD PARTY SOFTWARE MADE AVAILABLE IN CONJUNCTION WITH OR THROUGH THE SOFTWARE AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION AND RISK'
Which suggests that third party software will be installed along with X1.
I don't know for sure whether spyware is packaged with X1 or not because I didn't install it, but the fact that the licence allows for it is enough to stop me from trying it out.
Of course most people don't read the licence, so they get away with it, but its amazing how many programs actually disclose the fact that they're installing spyware on your machine in the licence agreement."
Wag again, here:
Frankly, Josh, if there isn't any adware or spyware in X1 Search at this very moment, the license agreement leaves it wide open for future inclusion of spyware or adware, not to mention the evil, dare I say it? POPUPS!!! Woo hoo! Just what I need on my already over-burdened PC's and wideband connections!
Ergo, I won't soon be installing your software, even if you do send me another free one! Sorry. But good luck to you, nonetheless!
(Ed Foster, are you observing this one?!! heheheh)
--Wag--
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Marriage
My wedding anniversary is this Sunday. June 20th. I will have been married . . .
. . . 15 years.
Fifteen years. Never thought I'd say I'd done anything for 15 years. Just like I never could imagine myself saying something like, "15 years ago . . . ." Well, 15 years ago, I got married and have been with the same woman since then.
Here's where I start to sound like an old man. It's had its ups and downs. We've yelled and screamed at each other. We've been to marriage counselling together. Moved around together, lived in ratty apartments together, drove junky cars together, the works. More recently, we've bought a condo and a house together, lived in nice accommodations, mid- middle-class, drive decent cars which have no problems getting us from A to B. In the last 8 years or so, we've had a great life together.
The nice thing is, it seems to keep getting better and better. Sex gets progressively better, our conversations are more meaningful, we fall more in love with each other every day, and more and more we both forget what life was like before marriage.
We never had kids. My wife, regrettably, was unable to have children. And yet, looking back, we are actually glad we didn't. We think it would have been good in our lives and we would have truly loved kids in our home. Retrospectively, however, we feel very satisfied with our lives and with the things we're able to do simply because we don't have children in our home. It sounds materialistic, however, were we to be presented with the opportunity or responsibility of children at this point, we would take it on with no hesitation whatsoever. But we no longer seek children and we no longer regret the absence of children in our home.
Our marriage is a huge success. It's something we worked on and that effort is paying off in very large dividends.
Best of all, as I mentioned above, we're still in love. We fall more in love with each other every day. Her heart and mine are so entwined, we can't separate them any longer. We have mutual respect and admiration for each other and we treat each other as if we were the most important people in the universe.
We draw closer and closer every moment. Neither of us can wait 'til we see each other at the end of the day and if we had our preferences, we'd be together 24 hours a day. And never regret a moment of any of it. If I could go back, would I change anything, knowing what I know now? Absolutely. But the difference would be that we would have reached this pure elation many years ago instead of it taking as long as it did.
This is where we wish to be and how we wish to be. Nothing is more important to us than our life together and we really expect to keep making the most of it day by day.
The rose of our life is the sweetest of them all.
--Wag--
. . . 15 years.
Fifteen years. Never thought I'd say I'd done anything for 15 years. Just like I never could imagine myself saying something like, "15 years ago . . . ." Well, 15 years ago, I got married and have been with the same woman since then.
Here's where I start to sound like an old man. It's had its ups and downs. We've yelled and screamed at each other. We've been to marriage counselling together. Moved around together, lived in ratty apartments together, drove junky cars together, the works. More recently, we've bought a condo and a house together, lived in nice accommodations, mid- middle-class, drive decent cars which have no problems getting us from A to B. In the last 8 years or so, we've had a great life together.
The nice thing is, it seems to keep getting better and better. Sex gets progressively better, our conversations are more meaningful, we fall more in love with each other every day, and more and more we both forget what life was like before marriage.
We never had kids. My wife, regrettably, was unable to have children. And yet, looking back, we are actually glad we didn't. We think it would have been good in our lives and we would have truly loved kids in our home. Retrospectively, however, we feel very satisfied with our lives and with the things we're able to do simply because we don't have children in our home. It sounds materialistic, however, were we to be presented with the opportunity or responsibility of children at this point, we would take it on with no hesitation whatsoever. But we no longer seek children and we no longer regret the absence of children in our home.
Our marriage is a huge success. It's something we worked on and that effort is paying off in very large dividends.
Best of all, as I mentioned above, we're still in love. We fall more in love with each other every day. Her heart and mine are so entwined, we can't separate them any longer. We have mutual respect and admiration for each other and we treat each other as if we were the most important people in the universe.
We draw closer and closer every moment. Neither of us can wait 'til we see each other at the end of the day and if we had our preferences, we'd be together 24 hours a day. And never regret a moment of any of it. If I could go back, would I change anything, knowing what I know now? Absolutely. But the difference would be that we would have reached this pure elation many years ago instead of it taking as long as it did.
This is where we wish to be and how we wish to be. Nothing is more important to us than our life together and we really expect to keep making the most of it day by day.
The rose of our life is the sweetest of them all.
--Wag--
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Depression
A mini-essay I wrote some months ago in response to an individual who had a family member suffering from depression.
--------------------------
Regarding depression, I am a firm believer in a number of things about it. These beliefs have evolved over time and may evolve further. However, I can say that looking back on my own bout with manic depression and the subsequent bouts with uber severe depression I know how it worked on me. It is undoubtedly different in many respects for other people but some of my thoughts below may ring true for those who read them.
Over time, depressive thinking may actually cause the chemistry in the brain to get into the "habit" of functioning in depression mode all the time. It requires meds to get out of this mode and get the brain back into the "habit" of being 'postively' charged with 'positive' chemistry. By the way, that's an analogy not a statement of the good humors of quack medicine.
For me, a drug called nomifensine maleate (sold under the brand name Merital, and don't ask me why I remember any of those three words after all this time!) was what kicked me back into "positive" mode in 1986. It was withdrawn from the U.S. by the FDA because a major side-effect is anemia, among others. I took the drug for about three months and it really did do the trick. Got my brain chems back in order. Made it so I could start to think again.
I was also in counselling during that time and although the counselling itself didn't ring any big bells with me, it did keep me thinking about making improvements and focusing on "getting better." Regrettably, it was during my mission for a cult religion so there were several concepts about depression which because of that cult, I couldn't conceive of until many years later. Much of what I'm writing here is from hindsight into my own depressive dynamics and the things it took to heal me of it.
First off, I believe wholeheartedly that being a member of said cult was what caused my depression. In it, failure is on the menu of emotions every hour of every day. You can only fail so many times before you believe that NOTHING you do will ever amount to anything worthwhile. After suffering defeat after defeat at the tempting hands of an imaginary Satan, you finally realize life is not going to amount to anything for you, nothing you do is ever going to be good enough and you're NEVER going to make it to see god.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, you're not going to go see god but that's because he isn't there, not because you're a shithead or a fuck up! LMAO!
Of course, all of that leads to despair and depression and eventually, in my case, suicide or attempted suicide. How many times have you seen people attempt suicide when it appears, externally, that they have everything going for them? Health, intelligence, money, apparent happiness, apparent familial love and affection. The works. How could a guy with all of those things commit suicide? Those of us who are or have been depressed understand all too well.
How to overcome it? Well, the drugs are a must. The counselling is also a must during the course of the drugs and possibly afterwards. I will say this about counselling, however. It must be with a quality counsellor. Notice I didn't say "qualified." The degrees on the wall are meaningless, as far as I can tell. The term quality is used VERY deliberately. Someone who is going to make you take responsibility for your own depression and the cure of it. NOT someone who is going to just dope you up and exclusively rely on drugs to "cure" you. It takes effort on your part and an extreme sense of responsibility for yourself.
It also requires belief. Or more specifically, a change of belief. A necessary attitude change will come with deliberate effort and the proper use of anti-depressants. But changing beliefs is critical, in my opinion for overcoming depression.
For example, cult religions teach you you're a failure and you're worthless. I say, it is OKAY to have failures in life and that such failures are NOT what make you worthless. Everyone fails from time to time but the guys who stay in failure mode get depressed. OR, they were depressed to begin with and they can't deal with the failure in a normal, mature, adult fashion. Failure is a learning experience and dealing with it is a skill that can be learned. But having a failure is NOT a reason to stop living or to stop feeling good about oneself. Do you believe this? You should. It's true.
Small failings do not matter. Cults teach people that every little sin is a major enough sin to keep you out from god. That would destroy the hopes of anyone who took it seriously. It sure did for me. "What if I forget to repent of some little thing I did when I was 9 years old?" Gag me. It's a waste of effort and a waste of energy. And very depressing, to say the least. If you wake up in the morning and sit around watching DVD's or watching daytime T.V. all day, yeah it was a wasted day. So what? No reason not to get moving the next day and do some other productive things. You set goals as a way of planning and thinking ahead. Not so you can use a list of failed activities to beat yourself up later! I see people do it all the time. "I can't get anything done." "Nothing ever works out for me." So? That's life. You keep plugging and stop worrying about the little momentary losses of self-discipline. They don't matter all that much and what's in the past is in the past. Shut up to yourself about it.
You also have to believe it's okay for life to happen. In fact, if it isn't happening, that is something to be depressed about. Okay, that was too circular but you probably get my drift!
You have to believe it is okay to feel good about your successes. Cults teach you that if you had a success of some kind it was because of God, not because you're a good person or because you're smart or because you worked hard. "Pride goeth before a fall." That is a load of crap. If you accomplish some thing, take pride in it. It is okay. Believe me! It's true! You don't have to go boasting about it to everyone but if the opportunity arises to tell of your experiences, go ahead! There is nothing wrong with being a success. In fact, there is everything right about being a success. And remember, little successes are just as wonderful as big successes. Just because you didn't make a million bucks last year, doesn't mean your success at getting a good grade in a school class is NOT worth celebrating. Celebrate, goddammit! It is a good thing WORTH celebrating!
Those are some things that come to mind just brainstorming at the moment. There are plenty of other things I will likely think of and if I do, I'll bring them up also. The bottom line is, you have to make your own healing work. Depression is one of those things which has to be done with a lot of work. Some people can never get off the anti-depressants. That's okay too. Just keep taking them and let them do their job. If you can get off of them, fine but do so very carefully and WITH the advice of your counseller. Ultimately, however, drugs or not, you are going to have to take the bull by the horns to make your life work. It's your responsibility.
And within your reach.
--Wag--
--------------------------
Regarding depression, I am a firm believer in a number of things about it. These beliefs have evolved over time and may evolve further. However, I can say that looking back on my own bout with manic depression and the subsequent bouts with uber severe depression I know how it worked on me. It is undoubtedly different in many respects for other people but some of my thoughts below may ring true for those who read them.
Over time, depressive thinking may actually cause the chemistry in the brain to get into the "habit" of functioning in depression mode all the time. It requires meds to get out of this mode and get the brain back into the "habit" of being 'postively' charged with 'positive' chemistry. By the way, that's an analogy not a statement of the good humors of quack medicine.
For me, a drug called nomifensine maleate (sold under the brand name Merital, and don't ask me why I remember any of those three words after all this time!) was what kicked me back into "positive" mode in 1986. It was withdrawn from the U.S. by the FDA because a major side-effect is anemia, among others. I took the drug for about three months and it really did do the trick. Got my brain chems back in order. Made it so I could start to think again.
I was also in counselling during that time and although the counselling itself didn't ring any big bells with me, it did keep me thinking about making improvements and focusing on "getting better." Regrettably, it was during my mission for a cult religion so there were several concepts about depression which because of that cult, I couldn't conceive of until many years later. Much of what I'm writing here is from hindsight into my own depressive dynamics and the things it took to heal me of it.
First off, I believe wholeheartedly that being a member of said cult was what caused my depression. In it, failure is on the menu of emotions every hour of every day. You can only fail so many times before you believe that NOTHING you do will ever amount to anything worthwhile. After suffering defeat after defeat at the tempting hands of an imaginary Satan, you finally realize life is not going to amount to anything for you, nothing you do is ever going to be good enough and you're NEVER going to make it to see god.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Well, you're not going to go see god but that's because he isn't there, not because you're a shithead or a fuck up! LMAO!
Of course, all of that leads to despair and depression and eventually, in my case, suicide or attempted suicide. How many times have you seen people attempt suicide when it appears, externally, that they have everything going for them? Health, intelligence, money, apparent happiness, apparent familial love and affection. The works. How could a guy with all of those things commit suicide? Those of us who are or have been depressed understand all too well.
How to overcome it? Well, the drugs are a must. The counselling is also a must during the course of the drugs and possibly afterwards. I will say this about counselling, however. It must be with a quality counsellor. Notice I didn't say "qualified." The degrees on the wall are meaningless, as far as I can tell. The term quality is used VERY deliberately. Someone who is going to make you take responsibility for your own depression and the cure of it. NOT someone who is going to just dope you up and exclusively rely on drugs to "cure" you. It takes effort on your part and an extreme sense of responsibility for yourself.
It also requires belief. Or more specifically, a change of belief. A necessary attitude change will come with deliberate effort and the proper use of anti-depressants. But changing beliefs is critical, in my opinion for overcoming depression.
For example, cult religions teach you you're a failure and you're worthless. I say, it is OKAY to have failures in life and that such failures are NOT what make you worthless. Everyone fails from time to time but the guys who stay in failure mode get depressed. OR, they were depressed to begin with and they can't deal with the failure in a normal, mature, adult fashion. Failure is a learning experience and dealing with it is a skill that can be learned. But having a failure is NOT a reason to stop living or to stop feeling good about oneself. Do you believe this? You should. It's true.
Small failings do not matter. Cults teach people that every little sin is a major enough sin to keep you out from god. That would destroy the hopes of anyone who took it seriously. It sure did for me. "What if I forget to repent of some little thing I did when I was 9 years old?" Gag me. It's a waste of effort and a waste of energy. And very depressing, to say the least. If you wake up in the morning and sit around watching DVD's or watching daytime T.V. all day, yeah it was a wasted day. So what? No reason not to get moving the next day and do some other productive things. You set goals as a way of planning and thinking ahead. Not so you can use a list of failed activities to beat yourself up later! I see people do it all the time. "I can't get anything done." "Nothing ever works out for me." So? That's life. You keep plugging and stop worrying about the little momentary losses of self-discipline. They don't matter all that much and what's in the past is in the past. Shut up to yourself about it.
You also have to believe it's okay for life to happen. In fact, if it isn't happening, that is something to be depressed about. Okay, that was too circular but you probably get my drift!
You have to believe it is okay to feel good about your successes. Cults teach you that if you had a success of some kind it was because of God, not because you're a good person or because you're smart or because you worked hard. "Pride goeth before a fall." That is a load of crap. If you accomplish some thing, take pride in it. It is okay. Believe me! It's true! You don't have to go boasting about it to everyone but if the opportunity arises to tell of your experiences, go ahead! There is nothing wrong with being a success. In fact, there is everything right about being a success. And remember, little successes are just as wonderful as big successes. Just because you didn't make a million bucks last year, doesn't mean your success at getting a good grade in a school class is NOT worth celebrating. Celebrate, goddammit! It is a good thing WORTH celebrating!
Those are some things that come to mind just brainstorming at the moment. There are plenty of other things I will likely think of and if I do, I'll bring them up also. The bottom line is, you have to make your own healing work. Depression is one of those things which has to be done with a lot of work. Some people can never get off the anti-depressants. That's okay too. Just keep taking them and let them do their job. If you can get off of them, fine but do so very carefully and WITH the advice of your counseller. Ultimately, however, drugs or not, you are going to have to take the bull by the horns to make your life work. It's your responsibility.
And within your reach.
--Wag--
Monday, June 07, 2004
X1 Search
The fact that I got an X1 Search program CD for free in snail mail today tells me that there is very likely Adware or Spyware or both included with the product. Who spends money on a mass-mailing of their product without getting compensated in some way by somebody? Absurd to think that just out of the goodness of their heart they will just give you their product. Great as it may be, and there are good reviews of it out there, I'm instantly suspicious of "free" software.
Not the least of which includes the 100 or so "free" AOL disks I've gotten over the years. Wish I'd kept all of those. I'd have quite the collection by now. I just use them as coasters and the X1 disk will have the same fate.
--Wag--
Not the least of which includes the 100 or so "free" AOL disks I've gotten over the years. Wish I'd kept all of those. I'd have quite the collection by now. I just use them as coasters and the X1 disk will have the same fate.
--Wag--
Relationships
A concept I have yet to encounter in my admittedly superficial and very amateur study of philosophy is the nature of relationships in regard to people who are givers and people who are takers.
It is frequently said, for example, that every marriage requires a lot of effort and work, that each partner must give 100% (or 110%, depending on who's math is considered!). And that's where the sage advice of the ages ends. You must give 100%. But is that realistic or even possible? I suggest that it is but with an additional elements to consider.
Essentially, my thought circles around the question that if you have a marriage relationship where both spouses are each trying to give 100%, who's doing the taking? Hopefully, both are also taking 100% because you simply cannot have a giver when there is no taker. Yet, just as there are often people who rarely give or who don't give enough, whatever "enough" is, there are also those who simply don't take enough.
Can you give 100% of the time AND take 100% of the time? Perhaps it ultimately becomes the same thing. Read on.
We speak of givers as being generous and kind and "altruistic" but we never speak of takers as being any of those. Yet, that is exactly what a taker really is if you consider the context of a healthy relationship. Indeed, many relationships which are NOT healthy or "normal" are generally a result of a disruption in the balance between giving and taking during the course of the relationship.
Nobody can always be a giver or always be a taker otherwise balance in the relationship is disrupted. The time frames for each role is not utterly critical unless they become excessively long. A caretaker spouse, for example, caring for an ill spouse year after year will eventually get completely used up unless there are other relationships in which that individual is able to become the taker. This brings up the idea that giving and taking cannot be limited to just a relationship between two people. It is in fact, a universally applied circle of reciprocation where the deficit of one is fulfilled by the gifts of another, a third party. In relationships where a jealous spouse will not allow the significant other to pursue outside interests is going to prevent the refills so necessary to the health of the relationship. The gas cap is locked and the key is thrown away.
The giver's reservoir of giving must be filled up from time to time. That need can be filled by the other party in the relationship, however, it is often times not enough. The giver frequently has to go to other sources to refill the reservoir. And the other person in the relationship must allow that to happen. If the giver never gets a chance to refill the tank, the individual starts to decay and a multitude of problems result, both for the person and for the relationship.
Imbalance in the relationship comes when one or the other is always or nearly always the giver and the other is nearly always or is always the taker. While this may seem like an ideal situation in theory (they are made for each other and all that), the reality is that the relationship is out of balance. In fact, both are being selfish, both are not considering the consequences of their actions and furthermore, each of the spouses is enabling the other to continue in their unhealthy pattern(s) of behavior.
People fluctuate between being a giver and a taker. On a given day, you may see a spouse in a marriage giving well over 100% while the other is taking it all in and giving back very little. Three days later or even 10 minutes later the roles may be reversed and you'll see the other spouse giving and the other taking. Regardless of who is doing the giving, there is active participation for both giver and taker. But people do not consider the taker in any virtuous sense. There is never a time when one or the other is a 100% giver or taker but over a long period of time, adding it all up should establish an evenness which indicates balance, overall, to the relationship.
Ideally, each person in the marriage will be constantly aware of the needs of their spouse and when that individual needs to give, the one should step up and take and when that individual needs to take, the other needs to give. A sensitivity and concern for the spouse is, of course mandatory in the course of a relationship. Being aware of the needs of a partner is essential to the discernment of whether or not it is time to be a taker or a giver. Many times, a giver desires to be a giver simply out of satisfaction at the pleasure or gratitude of the taker.
However, determining the needs of a lifemate is rather a delicate art. Certainly, if you offer a solution or a gift to satisy a perceived need and it is, in fact, flatly rejected, it's time to back off. You either got it wrong perceiving the actual need, or the individual does not need to be in the role you were thinking. Same thing, really. Time gives the experience needed to be able to consistently get it right. At times, when feeling the emptiness of not being able to fill one role or the other, it is even necessary to ask. Either way. Sometimes, you may need to ask your partner to take from you for a while as you be the giver. And it isn't even about role-playing at that point and it doesn't cheapen the efficacy of the giving. in fact, it can enhance it because then you know that your partner is willing to accommodate your needs.
Faking it is not *always* a bad idea but if you're an insincere taker, you cause the other person to receive a mixed message about what kinds of things are needed or necessary in the relationship. Overdone, it can easily cause mistrust. Feeling the need to fake it may indicate other problems in the relationship and at that point, it would be good to identify that problem and solve it for what it is. While it is a dishonesty to graciously take what is given when gratitude is not truly felt, it may make it more satisfying to the giver. An occasional "fake" may be just as healthy as genuine appreciation, either as giver or taker, however, as mentioned, overdoing it can be hazardous.
If one partner to a relationship never takes from the other, it can cause all kinds of trauma in the individual and ultimately, to the relationship. Can we say "rejection?" The giving person is never adequately fulfilled if, in fact, the individual's "gifts" cannot or will not be received by an effective and generous taker. If both are giving to and neither are taking from the other, they cannot be fulfilled and will nearly always feel a rejection of self. And yes, it can get personal. That such feelings are not expressed in a relationship is rather irrelevant. They are generally always there in such a circumstance.
There ARE relationships which allow BOTH parties to be takers. But these are nearly always relationships of a business nature wherein the buyer and the seller both take from a given transaction and receive value as a result of it. And they never or rarely change roles. Indeed, if the transaction doesn't go well it can be reversed so that both parties are restored to their original condition and once again, neither are givers or takers. This analogy is not a good one in the context of social science, however, because in this case, there is a tangible item of worth and a clear trade-off in regard to the fact that each has to take. In fact, the very introduction of a giving or a taking element into a business transaction can alter the dynamic rather drastically. Giving and taking can be a good thing here but it can be easily abused. Hurt people are a result and unnecessarily so.
Takers abuse givers but givers abuse takers as well. Givers frequently play the martyr or takers frequently take unrealistic advantage of the giver. Accusations fly and both parties begin to bring up harbored grudges and hurt feelings. In such a situation, it is important to realize that the giver is potentially the problem. That dynamic should be explored fully. Does the giver never become the taker? Is the giver monopolizing the give portion of the relationship? Is the taker never allowed to be the giver? And does that individual finally start rejecting the excessive giver as a form of passive resistance? In a long-term relationship, it would be easy for a taker to feel abused and never really know or understand what is going on. Yet, that person has the skill and agility needed to subconsciously push the buttons of the excessive giver and make life a difficulty. And never completely understand why.
Being an excessive giver is not necessarily a good thing. It is smothering and can be perceived as condescending and patronizing. It gets more and more difficult for a taker to be effectively gracious about the gifts and ultimately, passive-aggressive rejection begins to become patternistic and becomes the facilitator for damaging and destroying the health of the relationship.
Then there is the issue of keeping score. It is self-defeating. The score-keeper is not really interested in the relationship itself or the other person but is concerned primarily with his or her own merit as a partner in the relationship. Excessive givers are notorious for this but it isn't their exclusive domain. Excessive takers can easily get into the role of believing they are there to make the giver feel good about their "self" and proceed to make themselves constantly play the role of taker and even demand the gifts of the giver, erroneously believing they are truly doing their partner a favor at every turn.
Some people are more capable of giving and others more capable of taking. Money relationships are a good example of this. Two friends, one rich and the other poor but still friends on a level that supercedes their social status, will often encounter such a dynamic. The rich one pays for everything and the poor one goes along for the ride. In an psychologically warped relationship, the poor one always feels bad that he can't reciprocate and never realizes that it is his companionship, something about his personality or character that the rich person desires and hence, he does what he can to maintain that relationship. That the costs of going to dinner and a movie are borne by the rich individual is incidental and does not affect his desire to continue to do so. Of course, the poor individual can also abuse the relationship but then the merits of the relationship are compromised and it rapidly decays into a non-relationship.
The same is true of marital relationships. Some individuals are more capable of giving than taking. Others are more capable of taking than giving. But each should realize that it is to the benefit of both if they can turn the quarter over on occasion and switch roles. This is one of the areas where "work" is required. It generally means doing the difficult thing and stepping up to the plate as needed. Thus, the taker can be generous, considerate, compassionate, and willing to give up the role of taker and become the giver as it is needed. The giver, of course, can do so as well and become the taker in the relationship, even if only for a short time.
Which leads to the next comment, people who are 100% givers and never take, are, in reality, rather selfish in that they don't satisfy the need of the other person in the relationship wherein that individual's need to become a giver is not satisfied. On occasion, as frequently as needed, you must be a 100% taker so your partner can be a 100% giver. And vice-versa.
Balance is then attained and we find ourselves giving 100% of the time and taking 100% of the time.
The two then become one.
--Wag--
It is frequently said, for example, that every marriage requires a lot of effort and work, that each partner must give 100% (or 110%, depending on who's math is considered!). And that's where the sage advice of the ages ends. You must give 100%. But is that realistic or even possible? I suggest that it is but with an additional elements to consider.
Essentially, my thought circles around the question that if you have a marriage relationship where both spouses are each trying to give 100%, who's doing the taking? Hopefully, both are also taking 100% because you simply cannot have a giver when there is no taker. Yet, just as there are often people who rarely give or who don't give enough, whatever "enough" is, there are also those who simply don't take enough.
Can you give 100% of the time AND take 100% of the time? Perhaps it ultimately becomes the same thing. Read on.
We speak of givers as being generous and kind and "altruistic" but we never speak of takers as being any of those. Yet, that is exactly what a taker really is if you consider the context of a healthy relationship. Indeed, many relationships which are NOT healthy or "normal" are generally a result of a disruption in the balance between giving and taking during the course of the relationship.
Nobody can always be a giver or always be a taker otherwise balance in the relationship is disrupted. The time frames for each role is not utterly critical unless they become excessively long. A caretaker spouse, for example, caring for an ill spouse year after year will eventually get completely used up unless there are other relationships in which that individual is able to become the taker. This brings up the idea that giving and taking cannot be limited to just a relationship between two people. It is in fact, a universally applied circle of reciprocation where the deficit of one is fulfilled by the gifts of another, a third party. In relationships where a jealous spouse will not allow the significant other to pursue outside interests is going to prevent the refills so necessary to the health of the relationship. The gas cap is locked and the key is thrown away.
The giver's reservoir of giving must be filled up from time to time. That need can be filled by the other party in the relationship, however, it is often times not enough. The giver frequently has to go to other sources to refill the reservoir. And the other person in the relationship must allow that to happen. If the giver never gets a chance to refill the tank, the individual starts to decay and a multitude of problems result, both for the person and for the relationship.
Imbalance in the relationship comes when one or the other is always or nearly always the giver and the other is nearly always or is always the taker. While this may seem like an ideal situation in theory (they are made for each other and all that), the reality is that the relationship is out of balance. In fact, both are being selfish, both are not considering the consequences of their actions and furthermore, each of the spouses is enabling the other to continue in their unhealthy pattern(s) of behavior.
People fluctuate between being a giver and a taker. On a given day, you may see a spouse in a marriage giving well over 100% while the other is taking it all in and giving back very little. Three days later or even 10 minutes later the roles may be reversed and you'll see the other spouse giving and the other taking. Regardless of who is doing the giving, there is active participation for both giver and taker. But people do not consider the taker in any virtuous sense. There is never a time when one or the other is a 100% giver or taker but over a long period of time, adding it all up should establish an evenness which indicates balance, overall, to the relationship.
Ideally, each person in the marriage will be constantly aware of the needs of their spouse and when that individual needs to give, the one should step up and take and when that individual needs to take, the other needs to give. A sensitivity and concern for the spouse is, of course mandatory in the course of a relationship. Being aware of the needs of a partner is essential to the discernment of whether or not it is time to be a taker or a giver. Many times, a giver desires to be a giver simply out of satisfaction at the pleasure or gratitude of the taker.
However, determining the needs of a lifemate is rather a delicate art. Certainly, if you offer a solution or a gift to satisy a perceived need and it is, in fact, flatly rejected, it's time to back off. You either got it wrong perceiving the actual need, or the individual does not need to be in the role you were thinking. Same thing, really. Time gives the experience needed to be able to consistently get it right. At times, when feeling the emptiness of not being able to fill one role or the other, it is even necessary to ask. Either way. Sometimes, you may need to ask your partner to take from you for a while as you be the giver. And it isn't even about role-playing at that point and it doesn't cheapen the efficacy of the giving. in fact, it can enhance it because then you know that your partner is willing to accommodate your needs.
Faking it is not *always* a bad idea but if you're an insincere taker, you cause the other person to receive a mixed message about what kinds of things are needed or necessary in the relationship. Overdone, it can easily cause mistrust. Feeling the need to fake it may indicate other problems in the relationship and at that point, it would be good to identify that problem and solve it for what it is. While it is a dishonesty to graciously take what is given when gratitude is not truly felt, it may make it more satisfying to the giver. An occasional "fake" may be just as healthy as genuine appreciation, either as giver or taker, however, as mentioned, overdoing it can be hazardous.
If one partner to a relationship never takes from the other, it can cause all kinds of trauma in the individual and ultimately, to the relationship. Can we say "rejection?" The giving person is never adequately fulfilled if, in fact, the individual's "gifts" cannot or will not be received by an effective and generous taker. If both are giving to and neither are taking from the other, they cannot be fulfilled and will nearly always feel a rejection of self. And yes, it can get personal. That such feelings are not expressed in a relationship is rather irrelevant. They are generally always there in such a circumstance.
There ARE relationships which allow BOTH parties to be takers. But these are nearly always relationships of a business nature wherein the buyer and the seller both take from a given transaction and receive value as a result of it. And they never or rarely change roles. Indeed, if the transaction doesn't go well it can be reversed so that both parties are restored to their original condition and once again, neither are givers or takers. This analogy is not a good one in the context of social science, however, because in this case, there is a tangible item of worth and a clear trade-off in regard to the fact that each has to take. In fact, the very introduction of a giving or a taking element into a business transaction can alter the dynamic rather drastically. Giving and taking can be a good thing here but it can be easily abused. Hurt people are a result and unnecessarily so.
Takers abuse givers but givers abuse takers as well. Givers frequently play the martyr or takers frequently take unrealistic advantage of the giver. Accusations fly and both parties begin to bring up harbored grudges and hurt feelings. In such a situation, it is important to realize that the giver is potentially the problem. That dynamic should be explored fully. Does the giver never become the taker? Is the giver monopolizing the give portion of the relationship? Is the taker never allowed to be the giver? And does that individual finally start rejecting the excessive giver as a form of passive resistance? In a long-term relationship, it would be easy for a taker to feel abused and never really know or understand what is going on. Yet, that person has the skill and agility needed to subconsciously push the buttons of the excessive giver and make life a difficulty. And never completely understand why.
Being an excessive giver is not necessarily a good thing. It is smothering and can be perceived as condescending and patronizing. It gets more and more difficult for a taker to be effectively gracious about the gifts and ultimately, passive-aggressive rejection begins to become patternistic and becomes the facilitator for damaging and destroying the health of the relationship.
Then there is the issue of keeping score. It is self-defeating. The score-keeper is not really interested in the relationship itself or the other person but is concerned primarily with his or her own merit as a partner in the relationship. Excessive givers are notorious for this but it isn't their exclusive domain. Excessive takers can easily get into the role of believing they are there to make the giver feel good about their "self" and proceed to make themselves constantly play the role of taker and even demand the gifts of the giver, erroneously believing they are truly doing their partner a favor at every turn.
Some people are more capable of giving and others more capable of taking. Money relationships are a good example of this. Two friends, one rich and the other poor but still friends on a level that supercedes their social status, will often encounter such a dynamic. The rich one pays for everything and the poor one goes along for the ride. In an psychologically warped relationship, the poor one always feels bad that he can't reciprocate and never realizes that it is his companionship, something about his personality or character that the rich person desires and hence, he does what he can to maintain that relationship. That the costs of going to dinner and a movie are borne by the rich individual is incidental and does not affect his desire to continue to do so. Of course, the poor individual can also abuse the relationship but then the merits of the relationship are compromised and it rapidly decays into a non-relationship.
The same is true of marital relationships. Some individuals are more capable of giving than taking. Others are more capable of taking than giving. But each should realize that it is to the benefit of both if they can turn the quarter over on occasion and switch roles. This is one of the areas where "work" is required. It generally means doing the difficult thing and stepping up to the plate as needed. Thus, the taker can be generous, considerate, compassionate, and willing to give up the role of taker and become the giver as it is needed. The giver, of course, can do so as well and become the taker in the relationship, even if only for a short time.
Which leads to the next comment, people who are 100% givers and never take, are, in reality, rather selfish in that they don't satisfy the need of the other person in the relationship wherein that individual's need to become a giver is not satisfied. On occasion, as frequently as needed, you must be a 100% taker so your partner can be a 100% giver. And vice-versa.
Balance is then attained and we find ourselves giving 100% of the time and taking 100% of the time.
The two then become one.
--Wag--
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
