P.O. Box 19734

Irvine, CA 92623-9734

Attn: Customer Assistance Center 

January 10, 2011

Dear Mazda-

My 1995 Mazda 626 (DX) just hit 300,000 miles and all I can say is, “Thank you for such a fantastic car!”

When I originally purchased this car in Lincoln, Nebraska, I had no idea what a dependable vehicle I was getting. At the time, all I knew was that the 626 looked good, drove good, and had that groovy “swing” feature for the central air vents. I remember thinking that those oscillating vents were the coolest feature I’d ever seen in a car, and the “swing” button was quite the conversation starter.

Now, well over a dozen years later and road trips across the country, this fantastic car has more than met my expectations for what a quality car should be. For the record, I am not a “car guy.” I don’t perform vehicle maintenance myself (though I do have some mechanical abilities). In fact, when it comes to regular servicing and such, I am pretty lackadaisical about following regular guidelines. I frequently would let the mileage go 5-7 thousand miles beyond the recommended time between  oil changes! But for all the driving and “abuse” that this car has seen, I couldn’t have asked for a more reliable vehicle.

I have had NO serious mechanical or performance issues with this vehicle-EVER! Sure, I’ve replaced the timing belt twice, put in a new radiator (some time ago), had the front axle replaced, and swapped out catalytic converters twice, but the motor and manual transmission are all original, as is pretty  much everything else except for filters, tires and brakes. From a mechanical perspective, this car has been unbeatable. (I should note that I have owned several vehicles to date, both foreign and domestic.)

The exterior paint is still original (Sahara Gold), though it is now fading badly in several areas, and the interior’s better days passed by several years ago, but all things considered, I’d keep driving this car for another 300,000 miles if I could. Sadly, these past few years (and tens of thousands of miles) have made it very difficult to continue to pass ever-tightening state emissions testing and I can’t continue to justify pouring hundreds of dollars (or more) to keep it on the road, since the resale value is next to zero. So from a financial stand point, it just makes sense to retire it now.

But I’m retiring it with much sadness. Where else could I find a new car that can so readily achieve 30+ MPG both in town, on the freeway, and stuck in rush hour traffic- even after all those miles? Where else could I find a car with such tight handling and smooth driving performance- even after all those miles? Where else will I ever find another “swing” feature???

I know that 300,000 miles isn’t any kind of vehicular longevity record, but it sure is for me, and considering that I’m still running with the original engine and transmission, I think this proves that somebody in your company knows how to make a car that will last. For this, I sincerely thank you all.

I’ll be taking over my wife’s ’02 Mitsubishi Lancer now, which is also a nice car, even with its 105,000+ mileage, but not nearly the performer that my good old 626 has been.

I have not yet decided just how I’ll retire this wonderful car of mine. I’ve been thinking of donating it to one of those charity outfits and taking the tax credit. I’ve been thinking of sending it off to the car graveyard (read-junkyard). I’ve been wondering if I could even sell it outright for a few hundred dollars to some needy person. No matter what I decide, I know this- I will surely miss this car a great deal…from its manual hand-crank windows to its non-power locks to its unreadable stock AM/FM/Cassette stereo system (by the way- these stock speakers really can put out the tunes!) to the very special “swing” feature. 

I even considered giving it back to you as a testament to its greatness-(when researching how to reach you to send this letter, I noticed that your corporate headquarters is just up the road from me in Irvine. I live in Oceanside, California.)-but doubt you’re actually interested in getting back an old 626. (If you are interested, drop me a line- we could work something out!)

In closing let me just say that the next time I’m in the market for another vehicle, I’ll be shopping the Mazda’s first, hoping to find something as reliable and affordable as this 1995 626 (DX) has been for me. I can only hope you folks will still be producing such great cars when that day comes.

Sincerely,

Ken Grandlund

One VERY Satisfied customer

PS- I’m enclosing a picture of the car and the odometer reading for you. Maybe you have a nice bulletin board like they have at the vet’s office that you can pin these up to.

Freedom, in the modern American teenager vernacular, came to me 20 years ago. By freedom I mean, of course, high school graduation. Finally, my own man…FOR REAL! Well, at least sort of. I can almost recall the elation at the prospects which lay before me. I had plans…and alternate plans too…one way or another, things were going to be great. 20 years ago….the world was my oyster.

But not just my oyster alone. My friends and classmates were also jumping into the world, each in their own fashion, each in their own direction. Some were headed to college, others to the military. Some, like myself, went right to work in an attempt to support myself while I figured which plan to follow. Looking back on 20 years, I’m sure very few of us kept to the path we so headily envisioned. Life has a way of keeping things interesting.

Almost immediately after attaining freedom things began to go awry. At 18 years old, aspiration and reality are almost always at odds, and reality, unfeeling as a stone in its never ceasing march forward, usually wins out in the end. I never did go to college in Arizona or marry my high school sweetheart or travel around the world. I ‘ve never owned a BMW and I didn’t make a million bucks by the age of 30. I’m not really sure if I ever actually had a path to follow…I sure can’t remember what it looked like if I did. The basic outline above was about as far as I’d figured things…as if envisioning the goal magically made it real. Sweet reality.

My actual journey has actual details, steps along the path from there to here. It is filled with places and things I would never have imagined in those days after receiving my high school diploma. It has been my own adventure through life and it’s been fun. I might have done a thing or two differently. We all would. But here I am, 20 years later, and life is pretty good.

I don’t spend a lot of time looking back. I prefer to live in today, with half an eye on tomorrow. Not that I don’t enjoy some mental reminiscing now and again. It’s just that I don’t spend much time reliving what was already lived. It’s taken me a bit by surprise then to realize that I’m looking forward to doing just that. I’m curious to rekindle some of those ancient friendships and strengthen those that have endured. It’s been 15 years since I was even back in town. Came close 2 years ago, but turned east on the edge of town and never turned back. I’ve seen several of the guys over the years, but many of them not for almost 10. I want to hear about the paths my friends have taken since achieving their freedom, and I want to laugh at the insanity of our shared youth. I want to raise a beer, swing a club, share a photo, eat a pizza….I want to grab a piece of yesterday and hold onto it for just a few hours. And I’m so surprised by this, really surprised.

So off I go, like a time traveler, to a time 20 years removed and a place that holds so much of who I am today. The combination of 20 year old memories paired with 20 years older faces will be interesting, I’m sure. And while we can’t ever really relive our youth, I think that this might be close enough. Because really…who wants to it all over again anyhow?

If a perfect storm refers to the simultaneous occurrence of weather events which, taken individually, would be far less powerful than the storm resulting of their chance combination. Such occurrences are rare by their very nature, so that even a slight change in any one event contributing to the perfect storm would lessen its overall impact. Taken out of a weather context, our modern world is as close as ever to seeing a perfect storm of social, political, and economic upheaval that all but guarantees that life as we know it will be no more. The combination of resource scarcity, over-population, climate change, and globalized economics has put our modern world in a precarious position.

The rise in standards of living, scientific advancement, and population explosion can almost all be attributed to one primary resource-oil. Since its discovery as a source of fuel, the world has enjoyed an unprecedented era of cheap global travel and exchange of goods, an increase in agricultural productivity and economic growth, and a formidable advance in scientific knowledge and application. Cheap and plentiful oil made crops grow faster and more bountiful, allowing for the ability to increase populations around the world. Cheap and plentiful oil created and sustained global tourism, increasing our interdependence on each other as whole economies became based on catering to visitors from abroad. Oil drove manufacturing capabilities to previously unknown levels, creating entire industries devoted to creating modern amenities to make our lives easier and more entertaining. Very nearly everything we have or relate to modern society is derived upon the notion of cheap and plentiful oil.

Yet our dependence on and enslavement to cheap and plentiful oil has also helped to create a natural world on the brink of radical change. Pollution, whether directly from oil-related emissions or as a by-product of oil created consumer goods has spoiled our air and soils and water around the world. Changes to our atmosphere caused by unremitting releases of carbon based emissions are combining with naturally occuring forces to dramatically shift our weather patterns and yearly climate conditions. Cheap oil has led governments to expand their societies and strive for continual economic growth, which in turn has led to mass deforestation and land degradation as we search for precious metals and raw materials to sustain the unsustainable growth explosion. And as we continue to encroach upon the natural world to sustain our own, whole species have become extinct, thus changing the local ecologies of entire regions, which in turn create more changes to the environment at large.

And our love affair with oil has blinded or eyes (as love affairs so often do) to the reality of a globalized economy that is suited not to make the lives of everyone more equal and fulfilling, but rather to help enrich more modern societies at the expense of less modernized ones. But by obscuring this reality, most all societies have taken steps to become as modernized as the next, and whole populations have increased with the expectation that our modern world will find a way to not only sustain an ever growing influx of new people, but will indeed lift them up from poverty and create a level playing field the world over.

And despite occasional warnings from forward thinking people throughout the decades, by and large, we’ve been witnessing this great expansion of human prosperity with the impression that the end would never come, that human ingenuity would supplant the more rational notion that says a finite source will eventually run out. We’ve been playing Nero’s fiddle en masse.

I try to be optimistic about things when I can, but I’m primarily a realist. For many though, realism is synonymous to pessimism, meaning that to point out the obvious, especially when the obvious predicts bad times ahead, makes one a doomsayer at best. Yet at the risk of being labeled such, I’m putting my own fiddle down. Because regardless of the ultimate level of devolution modern society is facing, the facts remain clear- the way we are living now can not be sustained indefinitely, and in fact is on the brink of radical change.

The end of cheap and plentiful oil is upon us. Whether or not we have reached the point of peak oil production is still being debated by a few, but most oil industry experts agree that if we have not already reached this point, it will be upon us in mere years. We are seeing and feeling the effects now. As oil and oil derivatives become even more expensive, economies may well stop growing altogether and begin to seriously contract if not collapse. Governments will have to decide what is the more valuable use of oil-transportation or the chemical derivatives from oil that supply things like plastics and petrochemicals and petroleum based fertilizers. If transportation gets the nod, say goodbye to whole industries that depend on oil byproducts for their livelihood. Say goodbye to medical advances and higher yield crops. Say goodbye to ubiquitous electricity too.

Even as we make small strides to shift off of an oil-dependent economy (a near impossibility now, but let’s pretend for a moment), the state of our natural world is becoming overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of humans living on the planet. Potable water resources are not infinite either. Nor is the ability to produce enough food to feed each person. And without oil for transportation or electric generation, large scale water purification and food sharing become near impossibilities. Coupled with our overpopulation problem is the real fact of global climate shifts that are changing local weather patterns and decreasing the likelihood of future increases in food production. Starvation that we’ve grown accustomed to seeing from afar may soon be at a city near you.

I’ve never put much stock in “end times” philosophies, largely because they are predominantly based on religious mythology and doctrine. To assume that an omnipotent being has preordained the time and path of humanity seems more than a little absurd to me. But “end times” are a human reality and have been over and over throughout the eras of human history. Yet where religious “end times” focus on a final battle between good and evil for the souls of mankind, in reality most “end times” come to societies because of the faults of human beings themselves, and are usually fomented by over-population of a particular region, over-extension of governmental dictates, or a lack of natural resources to sustain a society. Large nations become over-reaching in their desires and expectations and collapse under the weight of their inefficient bureaucracies. Societies degrade and lose cohesion. Unlike religious based “end times” where all mankind ultimately perishes to the lakes of hell or the promises of heaven, most real-life “end times” represent little more than drastic change from what came before them. “End times” signify a passing of the guard, as it were, from one type of human condition to another.

And so as we approach another potential “end time” in human history, I can’t help but wonder how people will react when it becomes only too obvious to the majority that their fiddles can’t play fast enough or loud enough to drown out the reality of the situation.

As our perfect storm of resource scarcity, continued population growth, and interdependent economies based on cheap and plentiful oil converge, how will humanity fare? Will those who remain rise from the ashes of our near past to replicate the errors, taking advantage of a smaller population to extend the fragile resources left today? Will we devolve into another Dark Age period, ruled by superstitious and supercilious religious leaders?

In the possible (and perhaps even probable) face of such looming societal breakdown, it sometimes becomes hard to focus on the minutiae of current political desires or societal problems. In the face of potential societal collapse, how important really are the political problems of the day? Yet we can’t completely give up either, because we are human. And the human condition is one of hopefulness, creativity, and reactionism. Even when we can see intellectually that things are going sideways fast, we resist the temptation to throw in the towel and hide our heads in the sand. We infuse ourselves with the notion that our ingenuity will save us, despite some evidence to the contrary. And even with such troubling times ahead, even with great changes in lifestyle all but guaranteed, we continue to collectively play our fiddles. But not because we don’t actually care about what is happening. Rather, we play in the face of what is happening, because we see no ready solution to the end of cheap and plentiful oil and no interconnection between how we drive and what we eat. As a whole, we not only don’t believe the end is near, we deny that it can ever come. And so we continue to live as if things will all work out fine. Because if we let ourselves believe otherwise, we’d have a lot of scared, crazy people to deal with on top of the rest. But ignoring the problem doesn’t make it go away.

To the absolute deniers, I may be just another crock in the crazy world of internet doomsayers. But in all truth, I continue to play my fiddle too, albeit with less vigor than before and with only one eye on the sheet music. You see, I want society to figure things out. I want humanity to continue to exist, to improve, and to realize that as a species, we are not only intimately connected to each other, but to our planet as well. But I’m also taking small steps to prepare for economic collapse, making contingency plans, and looking at the evidence with eyes wide open. If really bad times do come to pass I don’t want to be caught completely uneprepared. And I don’t want you to be either.

I’m not trying to drive unsubstiantiated fear into your heart , dear reader. I’m not a Republican. I’m just calling it like it looks. And I’ve honestly never wanted to be more wrong about anything like I want to be wrong about this. So I continue to live from day to day, acting in one sense as if not much will really change. But I also am trying to make a plan because I just don’t see a way around it. And I don’t want the blinders on any more.

So go ahead and tell me I’m crazy-just give me the evidence to back it up. Like I said, I’d really like to be wrong.

(cross posted at Bring It On!)

No, I haven’t been on a self-imposed sabbatical or a long overdue vacation to somewhere sparkly and bright. The complete opposite in fact. You see, on August 30th, my father died, and in the short span of time that a simple telephone conversation takes my whole world shifted a bit on its axis.

The thing you’ve got to realize though is that this wasn’t the first time that my father had died. He was 58 years old. Since his first open heart surgery in the early 1970’s to the last one he had in December 2005, my father has beaten back death time and time again. In fact, he’d been technically dead at least three times in his past, each time being brought back to life by the skill of some wonderful doctors and medical professionals. I wrote about these events after his last operation, and you can read about it here.

Living with a frequently dying father has the effect of preparing you (intellectually at least) for the eventual day when he will actually die for good. At the same time though, it instills a sense that this was a man who would never really die, since he had beaten the odds so many times before. It was through that lens of his medical history that I had to accept the fact that this time there would be no return from death’s door. This time it was permanent. This time it was for real.

My dad was on vacation in Eastern Washington when he died. He went there every year to enjoy his high school reunions, visit with old friends, and family too. This visit he spent most of his time helping move my grandmother (his ex-mother-in-law) from her home of 30 years into her final residence, a retirement home. Not much of a vacation really, but that’s the kind of man he was. He was a helper, and he rarely took “no” for an answer. He’d actually gotten pretty much everything finished up- she was in her new place, the old place was nearly empty- but apparently when he went back for the last few things his heart finally gave out. He was alone in an empty house when his heart failed him.

It’s impossible for me to know what his last thoughts might have been. Does our last moment of consciousness become flooded with the images of our loved ones, of our life? Is it filled with thoughts of things undone? I won’t know until my turn comes. But I do know that I don’t think I want it to be alone.

We all traveled up to Washington to have the service. It was a small affair, but at least 15-20 of his old high school friends attended, in addition to the 20 or so family members present. Afterwards we took my father’s cremated remains to a beautiful promontory on the Oregon Coast and scattered them in a place where you can see the forest, the flowers, the ocean, and hear the sea lions barking their never-ending chorus of life. It was a 3 mile hike each way out to that spot and I know he never could have made it on his own, but I never felt so proud to carry anyone in my life. For a final resting place, I can’t think of a more peaceful place.

My father was not a religious man (and neither am I) but he was a spiritual man. At an early age, his own mother succumbed to cancer, and he and one of his brothers were adopted together. Their adopted mother was never a loving woman towards them, and once he came of adult age, he sought out and discovered his natural family. Yet even knowing who and where they were couldn’t fill the void that losing his mother left in his life. He tried to fill that hole by giving his love so freely to his own children, by making sure we got from him what he never could get for himself. In that, he succeeded brilliantly. I’d like to think that now that he has passed from this world he may finally get a chance to meet his real mother and feel from her the love he so freely gave. It’s a nice thought, even if at an intellectual level I don’t think it is true.

The experience of losing my dad has exposed the dichotomy of death to me that only previously could I grasp from afar. I don’t believe in heaven or hell or any of the religiously charged afterlife theories at all. I doubt I ever will. But losing a parent sure makes me wish I did, if only just for a minute. Because if I did believe in the afterlife, then I could also believe that my father wasn’t really dead at all, but only waiting for the rest of us to join him. It’s a nice thought, and I can understand why so many people choose to grasp at this kind of dream.

Instead, I have a different take. As a non-religious person, it is still possible for me to believe in an afterlife of sorts, just not in the same way. To me, the way one achieves a sort of immortality is through the memories of the living. So long as there are stories to be told and pictures to share, a person continues to live on. If I remember to remind my daughter of who her grandfather was, of what he taught me and her, then she will carry him with her throughout her life. And if she has children and shares her memories with them, my dad will continue to live on, much as my great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents live on in my memory from the stories and pictures I have heard. That is the afterlife, and it is as good as any other I can think of.

My father’s views on politics are were very close to my own. He was a prolific writer of Letters to the Editor of his local paper, and frequently was published there. (I am toying with giving those a re-print here. A tribute of sorts perhaps, if you will.) He would be disappointed if I didn’t get back in the saddle to continue the fight against corrupt politics, stupid politicians, and a general lack of common sense. I guess it’s time to return.

The hard, numbing part of putting my father to his final rest and going through his papers and belongings has been completed, for the most part, and it’s time for me to rise from the ashes of loss and mourning. The world looks a bit different to me now, but that’s not always a bad thing.

(cross posted at Bring It On!)

What is it that reminded me of that which I instinctually knew all along? Believe it or not, it was baseball. I’m not what you could call a sports fan. Although I’ve always enjoyed participating in various sports related activities, I’ve never been one to follow the fortunes or failures of any particular team or sport. So it is a rare occasion for me to actually go to see a professional sporting event in person. But as the father of a seven year old who is becoming interested in the game of baseball, when I was offered free tickets to see our home town team in action, I knew this would be a fun way to spend some time together. It turns out that I got more than I bargained for, because along with the fabulous day with my daughter, I was reminded that life is more than just political wrangling, bill paying, and nine-to-five toil. Life, like a baseball game, is an ongoing series of events. Some of those events work in your favor, some of them don’t.

Strike One: I decided to make the day more of an adventure by taking the train into town instead of driving to the stadium. Several factors contributed to this decision- the fact that I make that hour-long drive twice daily, the price of gas and parking, and the numerous times we’d talked of taking the train “one of these days” all played into it. But mostly it was because I wanted to do something different. And my daughter was clearly excited by this choice of transportation. We’d never taken the train before though, and upon arrival at the depot, found that purchasing our tickets was not a simple matter. In this age of automation, Amtrak has installed ‘self-service’ ticket machines, but as with many things supposed to make life simpler, the ticket machines were so complex as to require transit employees to actually complete your transactions for you. The result is a longer line than necessary, breeding frustration among would-be patrons. In fact, the ineptitude of this system resulted in nearly 40 people still waiting to purchase their tickets when the train arrived. Scrambling to get people through the line as fast as possible wasn’t working and it seemed that most of us would not make the train. As this train was a special added on the weekend specifically for people going to the baseball game, missing the train would also mean missing a big chunk of the game. But then a ray of hope- the transit employee/proxy ticket agent turned to everyone still in line and told us to get on the train and pay on the other end. It seemed that the human spirit trumped corporate inefficiency once again. Base hit, next batter.

Strike Two: Upon arrival at the train depot downtown, the plan was to hit the trolley for the rest of the trip to the stadium. We now had about 10 minutes until the beginning of the game, plenty of time it would seem, since the trolley ride would take but a few minutes. But surprise of surprises, the trolley ticket system was similar to that of the train, only more confusing because of the more numerous routes it took. Frustrated, I told my daughter we would just walk over from the train station and maybe miss the first few minutes of the game. To her, this was just another part of the adventure, making our way through downtown on foot, on the way to the big game. And though I knew the general location of the stadium, I didn’t realize we were at least 12 blocks away, as the crow flies that is. Finally, after navigating several busy streets we hopped into a bicycle cab for the rest of the trip. Our driver was a charming young man, recently immigrated from Bulgaria. As we rode the remaining 6 blocks to the stadium, I couldn’t help but be cheered up by his infectious smile and upbeat attitude as he told of how much he loved living here. Pop-fly double, next batter up.

The new stadium in town is big, and it was my first time there. Our tickets put us in the upper most level of the ballpark, and it was quite a hike to get there. As we made our way through, I was twice asked by stadium employees if I needed help finding the seats, and their directions always came with a smile. It took us about five minutes to get to our section, which turned out to be directly behind home plate, albeit up a few hundred feet. But we could see all the action clearly, and the fans around us ran the gamut of the American melting pot, from fathers and sons to groups of teenage girls to elderly couples. All colors, shapes, and sizes. All gathered together to enjoy America’s pastime. We watched as the teams battled it out on the field, and paid the high costs of ballpark hotdogs and French fries. The game was fun, but the crowd was better. As I sat there with my daughter, I watched the joy in her eyes, saw the smile on her face as the antics of the fans played out around us. She was having a great time, and as a consequence, so was I. The game ended with our team losing by one run, but clearly I’d hit a home run with my kid.

Strike Three: The trip back home was nearly identical to the one earlier that day. I paid another bicycle cab to get us back to the train depot, because the trolley situation was even more crowded and confused than before. Our driver this time was a Rastafarian looking musician (who played soul music with his band) who had nothing but a smile and laughter as we discussed music back to the train station. I tipped him half the fare price because he’d gotten us back just in time to make the train, which was getting ready to leave as we got there. Sadly, this time, the ticket attendant (the person, not the machine) couldn’t get people moving through quickly enough, and the train pulled out just as we began to get our tickets. The next train wouldn’t arrive for two hours, and though frustrated, we sat down to wait. And as we waited, we met and conversed with several people. A father and his two young sons, coming back from the ballgame. A single mother with her daughter and infant son coming home from a day at the zoo. A zoo employee heading home. An elderly couple going who knows where. All of us waiting for the train to return. All of us just happy to be.

We ended the day with a quick fast food dinner (it was after 8pm when we got home), and a goodnight hug. It was, all in all, a great day and one that I hope my daughter will remember for some time. For her, it was an adventure with dad, a train ride and a ball game. For me, it was a reminder that it is people who make life worth living.

Transferred into political terms, what I learned, or rather, what I was reminded of by this adventure with my daughter, is that for most people, politics are not the means to happiness. For most people, politics are so far removed from their daily lives as to be little more than a distraction at the water cooler. Most people don’t extrapolate the effects of political decisions to their daily lives. They just go on living as best they can. And in this country, despite all the corruption and waste and fraud and downright abuse of the law perpetrated by corporations and politicians and disingenuous figureheads, we’ve got it better than so many others in the world.

Those of us who dive head first into the political realm, whether through active participation or on-line punditry, must recognize this simple truth: politics is only one path to change. Connecting with people…enjoying time together…these are the things that make life worth living. And by connecting with each other, we often realize that we all seek the same things- a little security, a lot of freedom, and the chance to take our kids to a ballgame now and then.

In securing these things for ourselves and for each other, we make our world a better place. When we seek to share these ideals with others, we seek to make the world a little better too. And while eventually it is politics that make the conditions for happiness possible, it is up to each of us to make our little piece of the world a happy, hopeful, helpful place, not by finding things that divide us, but by enjoying the things that connect us.

So while I’ll continue to hammer away at the injustices of the world and the corruption in the halls of power, I’ll always try to remember the lessons I learned from a simple trip to a baseball game. It isn’t just politics that make the world go around.

(cross posted on Bring It On!)

Through my own comments to their posts, and in essays of my own, I have stood firmly behind these women and their right to have dominion over their own bodies. I have done so because I believe firmly in their freedom as much as I value my own. But in all honesty, there is more to it than that. Abortion, as a medical procedure will never affect me as a man. But it has played a role in my own life, and were it not for the availability of legal abortions, my life would not be as it is today.

She was my first real love, and we’d been going out together for over a year. The relationship was the kind that every first young love is, full of passion and entanglement and silly arguments that grew into volcanoes. It was a time of infatuation with each other, of learning how to be more than just a date, but a partner with another person in ways that went beyond a quick hop in the sack. But of course, there was plenty of that too.

Like many teen lovers, sex was an exciting part of our relationship. With the abandon known only to young lovers, we would find time for sex several times a week. But though we were young and horny and full of passion, we were also intelligent kids who knew all about the dangers of sexual intercourse. We knew about disease, but that was not an issue as we both had had only one other sexual encounter before. Pregnancy was the thing to avoid, and we took the precautions available to us. First, she tried the pill, but as is the case for many women, especially younger women, the pill made her feel sick and why take something that makes you feel sick? Next option, condoms. Easy to use, no side effects, everyone’s happy. So that’s what we went with, and we were smart enough to always have one handy. Well, always except that one time. And it really was only that one time.

It is ironic that two people can take precautions against pregnancy every time they have sexual relations, but on the single occasion that they do not, they wind up with a pregnancy anyhow. This is an even more cruel twist of fate when even on that one time, best efforts were made to prevent a commingling of sperm and ova by using the time honored ‘early withdrawal’ method. But there it was. Strike one, you’re out. And there we were, two kids, aged 16 and 17, faced with a life altering decision.
Instinctually, I knew that my opinion would carry some weight, but that ultimately, the decision about what to do about this pregnancy would not be mine. I have never been the type of man who needed to dominate his female companions, to force my will to become theirs. Whether that is an unusual trait or not is of no relevance to me, it is who I am. I had no familial religious followings to guide me in my actions. I had no other person’s morality floating through my head. My concerns were focused on my girlfriend first, our own futures second, and the possible future of the baby, if it were to become one, third. No doubt these were the same thoughts as hers, albeit from a completely different perspective.

So we talked. And I told her that the most important thing for her to know was that I would stand by any decision she wanted to make. I would support her and the baby to the best of my ability if she wanted to continue the pregnancy and try to make a go of things. I would support her if she chose to carry the baby to term and then place it for adoption. I would support her if she chose to end the pregnancy with an abortion. I would not judge her decision or try to make her change her mind. Whatever she chose would be the way it would be.

Neither of us wanted to be parents. We had neither the experience nor the financial ability to offer a child a decent life. Hell, we still hadn’t finished high school. We talked about how choosing to keep the baby would not only put severe restrictions on the future life of a child, it would effectively end our own growth and progress towards adulthood before it had even begun. Instead of creating a new life, we would be destroying three.

At the same point, my girlfriend was terrified of the prospect of being a 16 year old pregnant schoolgirl. Not just because of the social stigma she would be branded with, or because of the eventual ire of her parents, but because she knew that her own body was not ready for the kind of havoc pregnancy and delivery brings to woman’s body. She was still growing and maturing and not ready for this kind of thing either physically or mentally. In realizing this, she knew that she could not carry the baby to term and then give it up for adoption.

That left us with the final choice. In our small town, there were no abortion clinics, but there was a very good, very discreet, women’s health clinic. My girlfriend went there for advice. We were directed to a clinic in the large city, some 2 ½ hours away. I had a job and could afford the costs. I had a car and could get us there. We could handle this on our own. She made the appointment, we made our necessary alibis without giving away our real plan, and we waited for the day to arrive.

The sun was shining, the summer was coming, and we were making the first real adult decision of our lives. It was a terrible day, all the way around. A small amount of melancholy cheer arrived in the form of her sister and one of my good friends, who happened to be dating her at the time. My girlfriend had told her sister, who was my age; she needed someone else to talk to. They were going to meet us up in the city before the abortion, and stay with us until the end. It was what we both needed, because even though I was there for her, and she knew it, I wouldn’t be able to go in the clinic with her. Her sister could, and we were happy she would not be alone. As a consequence, now neither would I, although even with my friend outside to keep my company, I felt as if I was in another world, such was my concern for my girlfriend. I knew she would be uncomfortable, scared, and alone with strangers when the time came.

In the end, as we drove back home alone that evening, we spoke few words. Each of us was thinking our own thoughts about the events of the day, and how we handled them. We knew that the right choice had been made. For her, for us, for the baby whose time had not come. I can’t tell you how she ultimately felt that night, but I don’t think it was good. I know it wasn’t for me. She had just gone through something no one wishes on another person, no one wants to have happen to them. But I think she also felt a great sense of relief in knowing that she had been able to have the chance to make that decision, the best decision in a bad situation.

We went on to enjoy another wonderful year and a half together after that night, but as things tend to go, we eventually broke up and moved on. Teen love seldom lasts a lifetime, although it is often one of the strongest kind of love we know. We went through our own individual ups and downs through our 20’s keeping in contact and staying friends, though rarely ‘hanging out.’ Ev
entually, we didn’t even live in the same town anymore. Today, we are both married and living life on our own terms. Had she made a different choice all those years ago, we would be in a very different place.

Men talk about not having a choice when it comes to abortion, that a woman has all the power and why can’t men have their say in the matter. Well brothers, that isn’t true. You do have a choice. Your choice is to stand behind your woman no matter what she decides. You can choose to be a man or to be a tyrant, forcing your will, your needs on her. You can choose to recognize that your role beyond being a sperm donor is limited to that of support staff until or if a baby is actually born. You can choose to honor the rights you demand for yourself when your woman asserts them for herself. You have a choice. And that choice is important. Your can choose to support her. But brothers, you do not have a right to a woman’s body. You do not have a right to her mind. And you do not have a right to a mass of cells, growing in her body, using her nutrients, and changing her life.

I said earlier that I stand behind a woman’s right to choose. Behind, instead of beside, because they have the uterus and the matter affects them directly and not me. Behind so that I can beat back those who break through the front line, who manage to tear a hole in the wall that women have created to protect their rights. Behind, because that is where support is needed.

Every tale about abortion is personal, and I have never really talked about this part of my life in this detail. I don’t really think about it often, although the recent furor over abortion has forced this back to my mind, especially the current discussion here at this site. But when I do think about what happened all those years ago, I know that the choice we made, that she made, was the best choice at that time. Instead of ending one life, she saved three. And she was able to do so because the law said she could. It is a law to preserve the life of the living. It touches the foundations of freedom. And men, we should all fall in line behind our women and fight to make sure it remains that way.

(Cross posted at Bring It On)

Yet in an increasingly expensive society, where trips to the museum or sporting event or theme park can set families back a hundred bucks or more, movies, television, music, and video games are becoming the cheapest source of entertainment for many families. And with parents most likely spending more time working than with their kids, children are increasingly being nurtured by the glowing boxes in our living rooms and bedrooms. We are easily into our second, if not our third television generation, and the effects on our society could only be described as dismal. Children become desensitized to violence before they even know what violence really is. They become entranced with physical appearance and relationships before they can even properly bathe themselves without help. They become obsessively materialistic before they can appreciate the value of money. And they have a difficult time differentiating between reality and fantasy. Today’s children grow up in a world full of promise and technological advancement, yet all we seem to be offering them is the same kind of entertainment enjoyed by ancient civilizations: gladiator-like violence, rapacious sexual play acting, and extreme caricatures acting in stereotypical, but unrealistic, manners.

Art, they say, is just a reflection of life. But what happens when the reflection is turned back upon itself? What then? Entertainment executives, when pressed about “family entertainment” often exclaim that there are plenty of options for parents and kids, and that no one is forcing people to watch, listen, or play with their products. And to some degree they are exactly right. But they also say that they only give the public what the public wants, and this is where their disingenuousness shows through clearly. In reality, the public gets what they executives think will get them the most return on their investment, either through commercial advertising, merchandising efforts, or direct sales. And the public, for the most part, reinforces this perception by continuing to consume all that they have to offer. But, again, if all that is offered is of the same ilk, what real choice does a consumer have?

Unlike most denouncements of the entertainment industry though, this is not a call for government regulation or censorship. This is a call for Common Sense. And it is a call to parents and entertainment executives alike. For though it is hard to evidence with hard facts, it seems obvious that there must be a direct correlation between the attitudes and actions of our society and the things we see or do for entertainment. It is easiest to perceive in children, and unchecked or unseen, the things we learn as kids shape who we become as adults. Children are mimickers, it is how they learn what is and what is not acceptable. They see someone act a certain way and they emulate that behavior. They have no innate concept of right or wrong until we teach them. Yet the insidiousness of today’s mass entertainment is that it reinforces socially negative behavior through its subtleties. Seemingly innocuous programs for kids often depict parents and adults as aloof providers who offer little real guidance and nary a scrap of discipline while the kids are know-it-all super heroes, capable of solving any problem in just under 30 minutes. After weeks and weeks of ingesting this kind of fantasy, children unconsciously adopt the behaviors of their television role models, creating havoc in the home and school and disrespecting their parents and teachers. And these are the least harmful attitudes they adopt.

So what should be done? After all, we don’t want entertainment to be exactly like reality since the whole point of entertainment is to forget for a while our own complicated lives. And certainly, we shouldn’t prevent adults from viewing or enjoying violent or sexy cinema if that is their choice. In truth, I enjoy a good war film, suspense mystery, or lusty love story from time to time. I listen to rock and roll music as well as love songs. But as an adult, I have both the life experience to understand what I am seeing or hearing and the established sense of behavior to know the difference between acceptable and unacceptable actions. As a parent, I have to recognize that my child does not have these same attributes, yet, and it is my job, not mass media’s, to teach them.

I am a big proponent in turning off the television. As parents, we need to engage our kids more often than our busy lives sometimes seem to allow. If there needs to be censorship of modern mass media, it is first and foremost our jobs to be the censors for our families. Parents need to remember that children will not raise themselves, at least not in a socially responsible manner, and that the decision to become a parent means that life does not carry on as before. Sacrifice of our own personal desires are a necessary element of raising children, which sometimes means missing our favorite sit-com and reading to our kids. Or playing a board game. Or taking walks around the neighborhood. Or staring up at the stars. If you don’t feel comfortable listening to sex jokes and fart noises with a four year old, turn off the TV and do something else. If you don’t want your ten-year-old thinking that girls must be thin, blond, and sexy to be beautiful, turn off the TV and talk to your kids about individual self worth. If your 13 year old seems obsessed with war and weaponry, don’t buy the newest shoot-em up video game and then leave him in his room for all hours to master the skills of street killing. Use some Common Sense.

This is the only effective means of getting mass media to change the menu of offerings. By turning off the television, by not buying the games, by going to the park instead of the movie theater, parents can send a more effective message to the entertainment industry. By not supporting what they have to offer, they will be forced to give us something else or go out of business. PBS is perhaps the last bastion of quality children’s television, yet the politicians and the corporate broadcasters want to kill it off. This should tell us something about their true motives, since PBS is also non-commercial and tax exempt.

The industry has proven to be ineffective at controlling themselves. Government has no role in legislating entertainment, except when it crosses the line into illegality. Therefore, it is up to us to call for change. It is not a push to eliminate the violence or sex from entertainment altogether. It is a call for industry movers and shakers to dedicate themselves to creating family movies and programs that are both fun and responsible. It is a call for parents to be more parental and more involved with their kid’s entertainment choices. And it is a call for families to spend more time doing things together and relying less on mass media to teach and entertain us.

Philanthropy is just a fancy word for giving without expecting something in return. Americans in general are a generous people. When natural disasters strike, we pull out our checkbooks to help our neighbors or strangers half way around the world. We donate hard goods by the truckload, devote our time to help others, and give blood so others can live. We give to our favorite charities to save the forests or feed shelter pets or fight cancer or give vaccinations. Most of the time we seek nothing in return, except maybe an occasional “thank you,” because the good feelings that charity generates are often reward enough.

Businesses and governments engage in philanthropy for entirely different reasons. Since they are not people they can’t feel, and thus get no actual fulfillment from their philanthropic efforts. Most often, donations of cash or goods from businesses to schools or hospitals (among others) are done for financial reasons, either to increase “charitable” tax deductions or to unload excess stock that can be written off the tax forms as well. The more they give the less they owe. But businesses get a fringe benefit when they engage in donations by way of consumer gratitude that may translate into consumer purchases, giving the donating company an increased profit margin on top of the lower tax liability. Clearly, although their donations are helping others, their motives aren’t as pure as those of private individuals who give because they care about people.

The role of philanthropy in government is one of diplomatic bargaining, and thus it becomes a stretch to call it philanthropy at all. Every “gift” a government offers comes with strings attached, in the form of strategic concessions or financial openings or secret deals. The bureaucracies designed to oversee the dispensing of this aid are bloated with waste and graft so that by the time the actual aid has made it to the people it was meant to help, only a fraction of the original amount remains. Some estimates put the figure at 40 cents of each dollar. Further government restrictions on aid (often ideological in nature) even keep approved aid resources away from the people who need help because of ego battles between government officials. It would seem then that government giving is the least altruistic of all the types of philanthropy.

Boiled down into simple terms, you might say that people give to help others, corporations give to increase profits, and governments give for political gain. Still, they are all giving, and to the extent that their gifts reach the intended recipients, they are all helping people who need it. As the richest country in the world today, the United States government, American companies, and individual American citizens could be considered the most philanthropic society in history, each sector giving hundreds of billions of dollars to charities and aid programs each year. But even though this outpouring of generosity is the key ingredient to philanthropic works, equally important is the level of gratitude from those who are receiving the help, and this often depends on the motives of the giver.

It would seem that our spirit of giving would bring us many friends and allies in the world, but too often that doesn’t seem to be the result of our efforts. American charity is tainted by the profit motives of companies who exploit the labor forces of poor countries under the guise of economic assistance. And our governmental aid policies are designed not so much to help actual people but to use as a carrot and stick approach to international dealings with other governments. To the people who need the assistance, these political games are often the difference between life and death, and with each unfulfilled promise of help because of minor ideological differences, their attitudes become ever more jaded. American generosity becomes not a welcome gift from friends, but a gift only the very desperate or very wary will accept. But private organizations funded with private donations from average Americans still enjoy some semblance of thanks, perhaps because they go more directly to the people with their help and not through the mazes of bureaucracy.

It has always been human nature to be envious of those who have a great deal more that you do. This is the position Americans find themselves in today. Billions envy our freedoms to speak and worship. They envy our material wealth. They envy our health and our homes and our opportunities. And even though we give out the most money in real dollars, the United States ranks near the end of the “wealthier” nations in percentage of gross national product that is given in aid. So not only is much of our aid given with strings attached, and our political desires pressed with vigor, we’re seen as miserly too.

Philanthropy is defined as the effort to increase the well being of humanity and promote human welfare by charitable aid or donations. But it does nothing to increase the welfare of humanity if it can’t also increase the compatibility of cultures. Giving aid to another should tighten the bonds between people, not drive them farther apart. After all, what good does it do to help save or improve the life of another if they only grow up despising you and wanting you dead? Our governments must work harder at getting food and medical aid to the people who need it by eliminating much of the red tape and egocentric negotiations. It’s time to stop looking the other way at regimes that take our aid dollars and keep it for themselves. It’s time to stop trying to convert cultures to our own in exchange for infrastructure investments or educational assistance. It’s time for businesses to extend the same working conditions we expect here to their foreign workforces, as well as increasing their own “no strings attached” monetary contributions.

Giving shouldn’t be about political gain or strategic advantage or increased brand loyalty. It shouldn’t be about personal recognition or individual profit. Giving should come from the heart, expecting nothing more than an honestly felt thank you and hoping for a chance to expand peace, freedom, and prosperity.

The Value of Education is one of the greatest concepts we can instill on our kids. Mankind’s ability to learn and be curious is the one gift that really sets us apart from the other animals on Earth. Our ability to pass on what we learn, to expand upon what we learn, is what has enabled us to move from the caves into our condos. But just because we are inherently curious, that is no guarantee that we will use our ability to its potential. As parents, we must show our kids that learning is fun and learning opens doors of opportunity. We must foster their natural inquisitiveness, while reminding them that learning isn’t always an easy process. Learning requires listening, studying, testing, and more listening. Parents can better help their children to embrace learning by answering their questions when they can and by insisting their children show respect for their teachers. Parents and teachers need to work together instead of as adversaries to ensure that kids learn to their best ability. Outside of structured school, parents can increase their children’s curiosity with trips to museums or sporting events or libraries or with experiences in nature. To help parents achieve these things, costs for event tickets shouldn’t be out of reach for anyone making less than six figures a year. Employers could embrace more flexible work schedules to allow for more family time and yearly vacations. Society in general could learn to demand less instantaneous satisfaction in favor of a saner pace of life.

The Need for Tolerance is another important trait to instill in our children, for without tolerance we can’t coexist with any sense of normalcy. The perpetuation of racism and prejudice creates much harm to the progress of civilization, wasting so much effort, resources, and lives, that their continued existence lacks all Common Sense. As people, we are each different from each other in some way, and for someone to decide to hate or deny equality to another because of race or religion or sexual preference is as illogical as one can be, for even if you were wronged by someone of a different race or religion or what have you, this is not evidence that all others in that generalized classification are bad too. As parents, we must not only teach this to our children with words, but with our actions as well. Children perceive the subtleties we think we reserve for adults, and though they may not understand them, they certainly adopt them and make them their own. As a society, we must stop painting portions of our country as evil or idiotic simply because they have different priorities in life. We must insist on an end to the political rhetoric that serves to divide rather than unite. And just to be clear, tolerance does not mean the acceptance of heinous criminals like murderers or rapists or condoning acts that harm others or ideas that deny others equality and freedom..

The Meaning of Respect is another invaluable tool to give to our children, one that is sadly missing from today’s world. From the loss of formal salutations and assumptions of respect for ones elders to an overriding sense of self-importance, showing respect for each other is becoming archaic, much to our detriment. But the breakdown starts in the home when parents don’t demand respect from their children, and instead attempt to be their own kids’ best friend. This attitude is not how one teaches respect, as it places children on the same plane as adults, when they are neither psychologically or intellectually ready to be there. Children need authority figures and disciplinarians, and they seek them first in their parents. When they find no firm authority in the home, they equate all adults with their parents and learn to respect only those they fear, which is not really respect at all. As they grow older, this lack of respect can only offer a lifetime of combativeness or separation, certainly not positions one finds success and happiness in. Respect has many levels. There is respect for a position like doctor or teacher or firefighter. We respect these people for what they do whether we know them personally or not. We extend a certain amount of respect to them collectively, in spite of bad actions that may arise by certain individuals. Another respect is based on our personal knowledge or admiration for someone or their actions. While the first is easier to teach, the second is just as important, for through it we can reinforce the other lessons we strive to teach by holding up the success and behavior of others who exhibited those traits. Respect doesn’t necessarily mean we have to like someone or even agree with them, but a good rule of thumb is to show respect to someone until they prove themselves unworthy through their actions or through their words. We need to move back, as a society, to addressing each other with respect, or at least insisting on it from children.

Teaching Honesty is among the harder values to instill in our children, especially when the prevalent mood of society is to spin the news towards one view or the other, starting in our halls of government and working down to the classrooms in our schools. We all want our kids to be honest with us, yet we lie to them each and every day. We promote propaganda regarding sexual behavior, the effects of drugs and alcohol, personal image, and other seemingly moralistic issues. We tell our children that there is only one truth when in fact there are often multiple facets to every truth. Does this mean that we should never tell our kids anything not provable by science or direct observation? Should we give up our fairy tales with their moral lessons simply because they are fiction? This is not what I mean when I speak of being honest with our kids, for there is also an element of magic associated with childhood, a time of naivety that is enriched through fantasy. But when we sense a child is asking a serious question, for the purpose of learning, let’s give them the unblemished truth, to the age-appropriate degree that they can understand, instead of perpetuating wives tales and repeated mantras. And governments and businesses must stop twisting the truth about their actions and start being honest with the public. The truth may sometimes hurt, but they say it also sets you free.

The Concept of Service is one that shows our children that a free society depends upon the participation of all the citizens, and that by volunteering our time to help others or to clean up our cities or to coach a little league team is time well spent. When one embraces the idea of giving back to their community, one feels more a part of that community and helps to keep that community safe and clean. As parents, we can teach the concept of service by making our kids he
lp out around the house, helping relatives and friends with bigger projects or daily needs, and not paying them in cash or rewarding them in kind for every act they perform. The concept of service implies that your efforts will be returned to you when you need help, and that sometimes it is more rewarding to lend a hand than to demand a dollar. Society depends upon people helping people, and the upshot is that with an increased sense of service, many of the more mundane or everyday tasks now performed by government agencies could be handled by you and me for less costs and with better results. We should remove many of the barriers that prevent people from helping out, including a propensity to sue each other over every minor slight or mishap.

Personal Responsibility is something all children must eventually learn if they are ever to earn the respect of others, care for themselves financially, and provide for their own families someday. Personal responsibility is the ability to pay one’s own bills, hold down a job, keep one’s word to others, provide for their family, and stay out of legal trouble. When parents make excuses for their own child’s bad behavior they are not teaching personal responsibility. When a parent does their child’s homework for them they are not teaching personal responsibility. When a parent buys kids everything they ask for, or when a parent ignores their child’s dishonesty or when a parent never demands their child pick up after themselves, they are not teaching personal responsibility. When there are no consequences to actions, there is no personal responsibility. The end result is an adult who can admit no wrong, who is never to blame, and who always knows the best way to do everything. As a society, we need to stop idolizing those figures that do not espouse the tenets of personal responsibility. We need to stop promoting behaviors that are based only on selfish motives. And we must each try to keep our word to each other and to our children.

Common Sense parenting isn’t as much about what practical skills you may teach your kids so much as it is about making sure they have the tools to learn those skills themselves and to put those skills to good use. It isn’t about following a particular path or walking the same road as everyone else as much as it is about treating each other in a similar way and expecting the same in return. Society has a stake in successful parenting, and should work together to help parents teach their kids. Business leaders should make time for families more valuable than they do now, for eventually, they will need to hire these kids, and they’ll want them to have some manners and social graces. And parents need to quit trying to be their kids’ best friend. It’s time to reinforce our social values together instead of indulging our own egos and perpetuating our own irrational prejudices at our kids (and society’s) expense.