Occupy Oakland, and Other Random Thoughts

                Occupy Oakland?  Why would anyone want to occupy Oakland?  If these folks want to get more people involved with their cause, they need to choose their cities more carefully.  They need to invite people to occupy Monterrey, California, Vail, Colorado, or Grafton, Vermont, not Oakland, California.

                Why are the French so disliked by so many?  I had a couple of brief encounters with the French recently, the first time since 1978, and I was reminded why I had such a low opinion of them.  They are rude.  A line means nothing to them.  If they want something, they just squeeze in and take it.  No apology.  No, “Excuse me.”  Even the flight attendants on the Air France plane were cold, though not quite rude.  While watching British television recently, I noted that several comedians made fun of the French.  American comedians used to make jokes about the French, but seem to have lost interest in the past few years.  But making fun of the “frogs” is still fun for the British.  I asked a British tour guide if the general British dislike of the French was why they had fish and chips instead of fish and french fries.  She just smiled.

                Why do I find listening to little children speak with an accent different from mine cute or funny?  I was in London watching the one event all tourists are required to watch, the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace, when I heard a little English boy behind me ask his father, “Does this belong to the queen?”  He was referring to a statue on which he was sitting.  If an American child had asked that same question, I might not have even taken notice.  But, because it was said with a British accent, I can’t get it out of my mind.  Now that I think of it, I have never heard anyone remark about how my accent is cute, funny or even interesting.  How does an American accent (not southern, Brooklyn, New Jersery, or any of those other extreme ones) sound to people from other countries?  It is a strange question to ponder.

                Ever notice how people will overuse or misuse a particular event when trying to make a comparison to a current incident?  For instance, people will often compare something to what they imagine a war zone looks like, or what they think an atom bomb may have done when dropped on Japan.  Or, we will hear Hitler compared to just about any politician people don’t like.  When I hear these comparisons, I immediately dismiss the person and the severity of the incident they are concerned about, because I know it must be an overstatement.  I also get a little offended because I know that comparison is trivializing the actual event.  For example, people who were directly affected by Adolf Hitler’s actions by being confined to a concentration camp, are being compared to, for instance, affluent American people who are being slightly inconvenienced by some piece of legislation.  Well, I heard another one this morning that riled me.  I heard Jack Hanna, the well-known animal expert, compare the recent killing of 49 exotic animals in Ohio to the attacks on 9-11-01.  “To me, this is the 9/11 of the animal world.”  Really?  He’s comparing the killing of 49 animals by police, an action he believes was necessary, to the killing of 2,977 human beings in a cowardly act of terrorism?  What is the point of his comparison?  The number of dead?  The killers’ profiles?  The mechanism of death?  I don’t get it, and I’m offended by his use of this comparison.

           While traveling recently, I took some pictures of signs I thought were interesting, thought provoking or funny.   

England: International sign "No strange men with black hands"?

Brighton, England: We're supposed to meet at that little dot 12' up?

Penrith, England: Motorcycles may only jump over cars Mon-Sat.

Bath, England: "The Old Post Office" etched in stone.  How did they know it would be the "old" one when they built it?

London, England: I've always known Texans think they're special.  

 

But their own embassy in London?

Korca, Albania: Albanians get to decide if they want to yield or stop?  Now that I think about it, they pretty much do.

              

People Protest Wall Street Greed

    Greed.  Now, there’s a word that’s been getting a great deal of attention these past few weeks.  People in the U.S., Great Britain and other countries are demonstrating (or protesting) corporate greed on Wall Street and large financial institutions around the world.  I saw a Facebook post, “Listen, I am not against capitalism, I am against corporate greed.  There is a difference.”  I am not sure the folks protesting in cities across the United States and the rest of the world see the difference.  In fact, I am not sure the people involved in these protests know why they are protesting.

    I recently combed through the Occupy Wall Street web site trying to find out exactly what they are trying to accomplish.  I found that one goal was to “gather 20,000 people to Wall street, in New York, NY on September 17, 2011, beginning a popular occupation of that space for two months and more.”  I guess they reached that goal.  The rest of my search turned up nothing that even came close to a clear, attainable goal.  These people are against “greed” on Wall Street.  They believe this greed has caused the economic crises in the U.S., Greece and around the world.  They apparently want the greed to stop, though this is not articulated in any succinct statement.

   I am opposed to greed as well.  But what, exactly, is greed?  “A selfish and excessive desire for more of something than is needed,” according to Merriam-Webster.  That is a good discussion starter, but it does raise some other questions:  What constitutes excessive?  Who determines what is needed?  On what is this definition based?

    The Bible has a few things to say about greed, all bad.  The concept seems to be tied to the concept of contentment rather than a specific definition.  A one-size-fits-all definition of greed is probably not possible because greed is an individual, emotional, spiritual problem.  If we accept the Webster Dictionary definition of greed, a desire to have more than we need, then everyone I know is a greedy person.  I do not know a single person who doesn’t have more than is absolutely necessary for survival.  The most destitute people I have come in contact with have much more than some people I have seen surviving in other countries where there are no guarantees concerning even the most basic life necessities.  The people camped out on Wall Street have very nice tents and other camping equipment that would be extreme luxuries for many people in third world countries.  Dressed in their North Face down jackets and Nike shoes, they stop off at Starbuck’s to get their lattes before heading off to protest the greed of the corporate executives who make the existence of those products possible.  They have been joined by union members who live lives of comparative luxury while constantly negotiating for higher wages.  A recent survey of the Wall Street demonstrators found that most of them also support universal health care coverage.  Wouldn’t the children living off the dump piles outside of Manila love that! 

    Greed is not a problem of corporate executives alone.  If we would all take a step back and look at the big picture, we would see that the 99% also have a greed problem.  Recent interviews with some of the protesters in New York resulted in some interesting statements about individual protesters’ goals.  Many of them want a dramatic redistribution of wealth, a la Marx.  So, they want to take the money from the so-called 1%, who they deem “greedy,” but they don’t see themselves as greedy for wanting it.  Apparently, some people define greed on a sliding scale of wealth.  But, I haven’t heard anyone define the point at which “need” stops and “greed” begins.

    I have always been fascinated by God’s servant, Job.  He was a wealthy man by anyone’s definition, yet referred to as “righteous” by God himself.  After all was taken from him, he continued to be righteous.  At the end of the account of his sufferings, God blessed him with more possessions than he had before.  What?  The possession of material things can be a blessing from God?  What was the difference between Job’s situation and so much of what we see today?  Attitude.  What is it I am striving for, what will I do to get it, and what will I do with it once I have it?

    I admit I don’t understand the process by which a person looks at the current world financial crisis and concludes that 1% of the people in the United States are responsible for the problem.  The Greek people, fully understanding that their government is teetering on the brink of collapse, in great part due to the unrealistic commitments to socialistic programs like guaranteed pensions and universal health care, violently protest any efforts to reign in those expenditures because their comfort will be slightly diminished. They would rather have people from other countries bail them out.  Nor do I understand those who believe the so-called 1% are out to “enrich themselves by impoverishing humanity.”  Certainly, there are greedy CEOs, but do they really want to impoverish humanity?  Wouldn’t that ruin their businesses?  There are also greedy workers, greedy managers, greedy children, greedy welfare recipients and greedy protesters.

    So, I would like to suggest a new protest.  Let’s demonstrate against all greed!  There is a catch, though.  Only greedy people are really in positions to determine whether or not they are, indeed, greedy, since greed is an attitude.  The rest of us can observe what we think is greedy behavior, but we can’t really know with certainty.  So, I think maybe the only way to approach this problem is by changing individuals from the inside out.  Giving a person a new heart, one that loves above all else, is the only way this protest can be successful.  So, our protest will have to be conducted as individuals persuading individuals to give their lives away to God, who will lead them understanding their attitudes and actions.  And, we’ll have to begin that protest with ourselves.

Sink or Swim

 Having been without WIFI for almost a week, this post is late.  I hope you enjoy anyway.

  I have a vague memory of my father throwing me out of a rowboat in an effort to help me learn to swim.  I have no idea if this actually happened or it is a figment of my imagination.  Either way, it is a good lead-in to my thoughts for today: I just experienced driving in the United Kingdom…as the driver.

    We left Korçë about 9:00 A.M. yesterday morning.  The preferred means of travel over long distances in Albania is via fugon (foo-gone[like in bone]).  A fugon is a van dedicated to carrying people for hire from one town to another.  Our fugon was an eight passenger Ford Galaxy.  My recollection of a Ford Galaxy is a large sedan with bench seats and a huge trunk.  This model is a minivan.  With the rear seats in place there is room for only one large suitcase and several smaller items in the back.  So, three suitcases were tied on the luggage rack, the driver, my daughter and son-in-law, my two granddaughters, my wife and I climbed into seven of the seats and we were off to Tirana to catch a plane to London at 2:30 P.M.  The road to Tirana winds through many villages, a few small cities and over a couple of mountains.  It is never more than two lanes wide, and it’s often something of a gamble trying to figure out what vehicle is going to occupy a specific lane at any particular time.  The speed limit changes often, usually with no advance notice.  After three and a half hours of this winding, speed-up-slow-down, dodge the oncoming traffic ride, we entered the capital city of Tirana.  You have not experienced rush hour traffic until you have been on the streets of Tirana during the non-peak hours.  At about 1:15 P.M. we pulled into the Rine Airport flight departure lane.  After unloading our luggage and paying the driver about 7,000 leke ($70), we checked in, only to discover our flight was delayed by about 40 minutes; time enough for a cup of coffee and watching the 3-year-old run around.

    The flight to London-Gatwick was uneventful, landing us in England at about 5:15 P.M., local time (6:15 P.M. Albania time).  We walked quite a way to the immigration non-line, breezed through that process, and collected our luggage.  We picked up all but our red suitcase immediately.  That one seemed to be missing.  Then a man brought it back, after mistaking it for his own and almost leaving the airport with it.  Customs was a walk-through and we were out to the main lobby, the far end of which housed the Alamo Car Rental office.  We filled out the necessary paper work, then decided to sit down and eat dinner at an airport restaurant, since the little ones were quite hungry.   After a nice meal and a short discussion about what a biscuit is or isn’t and why the British don’t seem to know how to make one, we were off to pick up our rental cars.

    Remember the lead-in story about being thrown in the water and told to swim?  I have finally arrived at the application.  You see, we had been up for about 14 hours, spent 4 of those in a fugon, 3 more on an airplane, and the rest making sure a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old stayed out of trouble.   I was about to get behind the wheel of a VW I had never heard of (a Polo), located on the right hand side of the vehicle, with a 5-speed stick shift on the left, and drive out onto busy Gatwick roads, staying in the left lane, after dark, and possibly in the rain.  I very much felt like somebody had just thrown me out of the boat and told me to swim.  As it turned out, it wasn’t raining.  That came today.

    I had mentally prepared myself for that moment, pretending I was driving on the left side while travelling around Amador County, reminding myself that if I had been in England I would have turned into that other lane.  My amazing discovery was that staying in the left lane was the least of my concerns.  I kept looking to the right to utilize the rear view mirror that was to my left.  I kept running up on the curb on the left side and nearly hitting several vehicles, apparently compensating for my fear of driving on the right hand side.  I kept grinding the gears because I subconsciously rebelled against pulling the stick to each subsequent gear instead of pushing it over.  There are so many little habits that need to be retrained, and that takes conscious, deliberate thinking.  I have never been a great multi-tasker.  Then there were the roundabouts, but I’ll save that for another post.

    At the end of the day, we had made it from Gatwick to Penrith, safely and with our sanity in tack.  There were a few glitches concerning the proper way to interpret motorway signage, costing us quite a bit of time and petrol, but again, I will save that for another post.  I would have to conclude that I learned how to swim yesterday and today, evidenced by the fact that I am sitting here writing this without a scratch or bruise.  When I get really good at this, I believe I may swim back and tip over that boat.

POSTSCRIPT: Today I apparently ran a red light.  At least, that’s what the officer told me after he instructed me to get out of the car and take a seat in the back of his van.  I just don’t remember that light.  He let me go without incident, after informing me he knew that where I came from we can turn on some red lights, though he doesn’t really understand how that works.