Unless you wandered here by mistake, (which is cool, welcome!) you may have read my posts before.
If you have I'd like to ask a favor.......give a little feedback. You can either add a comment or send an email to the address in my profile. Make a statement, ask a question, or share an idea you would like me to comment on. I promise to be gentle, well maybe.......hell you pay your money you take your chances!
If you happen to like my blog, please feel free to share it.
Take care of each other.
Larry
Monday, December 17, 2012
MID-LIFE not necessary a crisis, more like a glitch.
I used to spend most of my free time playing computer games. Over the last couple of weeks that has changed. I still play games, (I've annoyed most of my FB friends with one request or another) but not as much as I used to. AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! In large part anyway. On the downhill slide of life I'm finally doing what I dreamed of as a youth.
Like many young men I wanted to be in a rock and roll band. I never had the time nor talent. I wanted to be a singer, but as a church choir trained bass, well lets say that Mick Jagger has nothing to fear. I never felt that I had the drive to master an instrument. A few months ago a friend gave me a wonderful birthday present. A conga drum, with it came an invitation to join his band. Over the months my collection of drums grew a bit. Each new acquisition beginning with a conversation with my wife. (me) Honey, I love you. (her) you found a new drum. (me) yes, but it's got a great tone........(her, with raised eyebrows) well let's give it a listen.....
You can see my wife is an indulgent angel.
The other major thing I wanted to do growing up is to write (wasn't that a shocker) but again felt that I didn't have the drive or necessary talent. Good thing for me that mid-life came along. About ten years ago I met a man who had just turned fifty and (according to him) was sick of never acting on his dreams. He got a divorce, a Jeep, a Harley, several tattoos, nipple piercings, and an industrial sized box of Viagra. Evidently his dream was to be fourteen years old again but this time have a lot of money and no parents.
You hear all the time about men reaching a certain age, and suddenly becoming complete jerks. Your average solid citizen becoming egotistical and selfish. Thing is, I'm not sure they weren't egotistical and selfish before. I had plenty of stupidity bouncing around between my ears as a teenager, I certainly didn't want to go through that hell again. Now this wasn't a conscious decision by any means, and it didn't happen overnight. I sort of well......grew into it.
Experts say that a boy learns how to be a man from his father, and I guess that's true as far as it goes. However I couldn't look to my father for information on how to do the mid-life thing. He was fifty-one when I was born! While having a child at that age could constitute a crisis, by the time I became aware of him he had moved into being OLD! Fortunately for me I had three older brothers (and when I say older I mean it, they are twelve, thirteen and eighteen years older than I) so in a way I got to see them take the journey.
My eldest brother handled it with style and aplomb. He and his wife moved to Oregon. He bought a folding boat (I don't know, don't ask) joined a choir, and a hiking club. Once a month or so they get a group of friends together and read Shakespeare's plays, aloud and in character.
The youngest brother got divorced, married the same woman again, bought a Harley, and (wait for it) a firetruck.
My middle brother I'm not sure about, but I think he did something really crazy, like read a novel written after 1985.
I have to mention that I have two sisters as well. I'm not saying that they're older but they do fall between me and the brother with the firetruck. (Dot & Lane I love you!) I have to be nice or they will get even! at least they always have.
When I reached my middle forties, I took a job 1200 miles away from home that caused me to be gone the better part of a year. I grew my hair out, (something I had never been able to do since the army) joined a band, and now I'm writing a blog. If this is a crisis, I'll take it.
Take care of each other
Larry
Like many young men I wanted to be in a rock and roll band. I never had the time nor talent. I wanted to be a singer, but as a church choir trained bass, well lets say that Mick Jagger has nothing to fear. I never felt that I had the drive to master an instrument. A few months ago a friend gave me a wonderful birthday present. A conga drum, with it came an invitation to join his band. Over the months my collection of drums grew a bit. Each new acquisition beginning with a conversation with my wife. (me) Honey, I love you. (her) you found a new drum. (me) yes, but it's got a great tone........(her, with raised eyebrows) well let's give it a listen.....
You can see my wife is an indulgent angel.
The other major thing I wanted to do growing up is to write (wasn't that a shocker) but again felt that I didn't have the drive or necessary talent. Good thing for me that mid-life came along. About ten years ago I met a man who had just turned fifty and (according to him) was sick of never acting on his dreams. He got a divorce, a Jeep, a Harley, several tattoos, nipple piercings, and an industrial sized box of Viagra. Evidently his dream was to be fourteen years old again but this time have a lot of money and no parents.
You hear all the time about men reaching a certain age, and suddenly becoming complete jerks. Your average solid citizen becoming egotistical and selfish. Thing is, I'm not sure they weren't egotistical and selfish before. I had plenty of stupidity bouncing around between my ears as a teenager, I certainly didn't want to go through that hell again. Now this wasn't a conscious decision by any means, and it didn't happen overnight. I sort of well......grew into it.
Experts say that a boy learns how to be a man from his father, and I guess that's true as far as it goes. However I couldn't look to my father for information on how to do the mid-life thing. He was fifty-one when I was born! While having a child at that age could constitute a crisis, by the time I became aware of him he had moved into being OLD! Fortunately for me I had three older brothers (and when I say older I mean it, they are twelve, thirteen and eighteen years older than I) so in a way I got to see them take the journey.
My eldest brother handled it with style and aplomb. He and his wife moved to Oregon. He bought a folding boat (I don't know, don't ask) joined a choir, and a hiking club. Once a month or so they get a group of friends together and read Shakespeare's plays, aloud and in character.
The youngest brother got divorced, married the same woman again, bought a Harley, and (wait for it) a firetruck.
My middle brother I'm not sure about, but I think he did something really crazy, like read a novel written after 1985.
I have to mention that I have two sisters as well. I'm not saying that they're older but they do fall between me and the brother with the firetruck. (Dot & Lane I love you!) I have to be nice or they will get even! at least they always have.
When I reached my middle forties, I took a job 1200 miles away from home that caused me to be gone the better part of a year. I grew my hair out, (something I had never been able to do since the army) joined a band, and now I'm writing a blog. If this is a crisis, I'll take it.
Take care of each other
Larry
Saturday, December 15, 2012
The Green Knight
Why is it that I get inspired to write late in the evening? I got home from a wonderful dinner where we celebrated the birthday of our housemate. Like normal I checked out Face Book and checked on my blog. On face book there was an essay attributed to Morgan Freeman, where he decries the media attention yesterdays monster is getting, and suggests we all turn off the news.
I really agree with the statement. We only remember the monsters, not the knights in shinning armor. (To all my friends in the SCA, the D&D players and the history buffs. yes I know the feudal system was oppressive and the "knight-errant" never existed. Pick your favorite rude gesture and assume I'm showing it you) But then it struck me. On the way to dinner tonight, I did remember a knight. A knight in armor of John Deer green.
Because of the "media circus" we seem to live in, we assume that it takes something spectacular to be remembered after we're gone. That's not right, and fortunately it's not true. All it takes is one media outlet of some kind to make us remember a hero. Granted I'm not much of a media outlet, but this blog is what I've got and I'll be damned if I'll let us remember only monsters.
I've lost a lot of friends over the years, and I don't remember them very often, at least not most of them. Friends, family and lovers flit in and out of our lives on a fairly regular basis and a lot of time it takes something big to make us remember them. But not always. When we remember someone it is usually just a few things about them that we remember. Something they said or did. Something specific. That is not always the case.
I lost a dear friend last spring. He was young, healthy, and married less than three years. He went to sleep one afternoon and never woke up. There are days I don't remember Brett, but those days few and far between. His loss is still new, so that is one reason I remember him so much. However I doubt that I'll ever forget him. I won't remember him for anything he said, or anything he did in particular. I'll remember him for who and what he was. Brett was one of the few truly "good" beings I have ever encountered, and the only one I knew well enough to call friend.
There was nothing about him that you could put your finger on and say "That, is why he is a good man" There was nothing remarkable about him in the conventional sense. He didn't devote his life to feeding the poor. He didn't rush into burning buildings to save old ladies, children, and kittens. He didn't give away millions of dollars to people on the street. BUT! I could see him doing any of those things. Generous of spirit doesn't even begin to describe Brett. For me, he showed me there was good in the world along side evil. If anyone around Brett needed anything, and he could supply it, he did. Notice, I didn't say "he would" I said HE DID! He gave of himself, his caring spirit, his joy in simple things, and his passion. His passion for life, beauty and most of all his wife.
In a lot of ways he embodied what it is to be, not just male, but a man. He knew anger, pain and sadness. we all do. But those things didn't control or influence him. Brett's motivations were love, joy, and a delight at every new day. He was almost young enough to be my son. But honestly I want to grow up to be just like him. He was a knight, in somewhat dusty armor of John Deer Green.
So for the next few days, let's take the advise of Mr. Freeman and turn off the news. Instead look around you and find your own knights. They may not be on this mortal plane anymore, but they're still championing all that is good, and just and right. If only in our hearts and souls. Let's put the monsters in the dungeons and forget them, and always, always remember the knights.
Take care of each other.
Larry
I really agree with the statement. We only remember the monsters, not the knights in shinning armor. (To all my friends in the SCA, the D&D players and the history buffs. yes I know the feudal system was oppressive and the "knight-errant" never existed. Pick your favorite rude gesture and assume I'm showing it you) But then it struck me. On the way to dinner tonight, I did remember a knight. A knight in armor of John Deer green.
Because of the "media circus" we seem to live in, we assume that it takes something spectacular to be remembered after we're gone. That's not right, and fortunately it's not true. All it takes is one media outlet of some kind to make us remember a hero. Granted I'm not much of a media outlet, but this blog is what I've got and I'll be damned if I'll let us remember only monsters.
I've lost a lot of friends over the years, and I don't remember them very often, at least not most of them. Friends, family and lovers flit in and out of our lives on a fairly regular basis and a lot of time it takes something big to make us remember them. But not always. When we remember someone it is usually just a few things about them that we remember. Something they said or did. Something specific. That is not always the case.
I lost a dear friend last spring. He was young, healthy, and married less than three years. He went to sleep one afternoon and never woke up. There are days I don't remember Brett, but those days few and far between. His loss is still new, so that is one reason I remember him so much. However I doubt that I'll ever forget him. I won't remember him for anything he said, or anything he did in particular. I'll remember him for who and what he was. Brett was one of the few truly "good" beings I have ever encountered, and the only one I knew well enough to call friend.
There was nothing about him that you could put your finger on and say "That, is why he is a good man" There was nothing remarkable about him in the conventional sense. He didn't devote his life to feeding the poor. He didn't rush into burning buildings to save old ladies, children, and kittens. He didn't give away millions of dollars to people on the street. BUT! I could see him doing any of those things. Generous of spirit doesn't even begin to describe Brett. For me, he showed me there was good in the world along side evil. If anyone around Brett needed anything, and he could supply it, he did. Notice, I didn't say "he would" I said HE DID! He gave of himself, his caring spirit, his joy in simple things, and his passion. His passion for life, beauty and most of all his wife.
In a lot of ways he embodied what it is to be, not just male, but a man. He knew anger, pain and sadness. we all do. But those things didn't control or influence him. Brett's motivations were love, joy, and a delight at every new day. He was almost young enough to be my son. But honestly I want to grow up to be just like him. He was a knight, in somewhat dusty armor of John Deer Green.
So for the next few days, let's take the advise of Mr. Freeman and turn off the news. Instead look around you and find your own knights. They may not be on this mortal plane anymore, but they're still championing all that is good, and just and right. If only in our hearts and souls. Let's put the monsters in the dungeons and forget them, and always, always remember the knights.
Take care of each other.
Larry
Friday, December 14, 2012
being remembered
What is it about this country's fascination with celebrity that drives us to horrific extremes? It seems that every-other day we are bombarded with images and information about the latest mass murder. What drives our young men (and it mostly is young men) to these acts of extreme gut-wrenching violence?
I really wish I had an answer. I don't, and I'm not sure anyone does.
I'm writing this blog late in the evening. Something happened today, something of such heart stopping evil that I'm sure most of us will have nightmares about it. I'm not going to explain what it was. If you live in the U.S. you already know. every media outlet, and two-bit pundit has already screamed the gory details in your ear. I don't want to do that. I don't want to glorify this heinous act any further. Everyone else has already done that, and I think that may be part of the problem.
There is an old curse attributed to the people of China, which translates roughly as; "May you live in interesting times." As a young child I couldn't understand why adults thought this was a curse. It seemed like a blessing to me. After all interesting was the opposite of boring and had to be better, right? What the adults around me knew, and what took me years to realize. Was while interesting could be the opposite of boring, it was also the opposite of peaceful.
Ask anyone who makes their living keeping others safe, ( Fire Fighters, Law Enforcement, Security Professionals, etc.) how their shift was and the words "quiet" or "dull" will bring a smile to the faces of their coworkers. However the words "busy" or "interesting" will cause those deep creases right between the eyebrows. Interesting is dangerous.
Instant communication brings the world to our fingertips. It also isolates us in a disturbing way. We don't interact on personal, face to face, intimate levels anymore. Our friends are "on line".even our celebrities are different than they were twenty years ago. There are people who are famous for being famous! The public can follow their every move on twitter or face book. We've gone from a culture where every child could grow up to be president, to one where every child wants to be Paris Hilton. This is insane!
Everyone wants to stop the tragedies. We want to get out from under this curse. Well we should. But we can't do it with a quick fix. We can't do it with gun control. We can't do it with mandatory mental health evaluations. We can't do it by locking away "those people", because we are those people! The internet has made the entire world one village. We gossip over the back fence with millions of people every night. Maybe we need to stop that.
Before the internet, before cable news , cell phones, and instant messaging. We lived in small towns, villages, and neighborhoods. Our celebrities were the local DJ, the basket ball center, and the grocer who could do magic tricks. And any one of us could be a celebrity in our neighbor hood, just by being us. But now we are ghosts. faceless fingers tapping out words in a big chunk of ....nothing. we aren't real to each other any more, we aren't even real to ourselves. I wonder if that's not what is happening to us. If in our desperate attempts to get noticed, we're turning to acts of outrageous horror.
Being a decent person doesn't get us noticed. And that, may indeed, be part of the reason behind these tragedies. Perhaps in the minds of these deluded individuals, it doesn't matter that they won't be remembered with love. Just that they will be remembered. Perhaps if we didn't feel the need to know everything about everyone everywhere these .....creatures, would realize that they are doomed to obscurity like most of us, they would find a different path to fame. A less "interesting" path.
Larry
Thursday, December 6, 2012
BANG BANG (my baby shot me down)
Once again, due to a high profile tragedy and a television personality using his talk show as a bully-pulpit, everyone is getting up in arms (pun intended) about the second amendment and proposed gun control. I find myself in a peculiar place.
You see, due to my upbringing, training and the way I was taught at home and in school, I try to see both sides of every issue. This often makes me a bit uncomfortable. Whether it is because my instincts say one thing and my mind another. OR I flat can't see the logic behind one side. (sometimes both) In those cases I usually try to go with my mind, using critical thinking and not letting my emotions rule the day. It seems to me that the general population of this country is very emotionally biased in it thinking. We tend to react at a gut level in response to anger, fear, or what we think is injustice. Worst of all we think emotionally when someone with something to gain pulls our emotional triggers.
Guns.
What it is about this tool that people get so wound up about? I'm not sure; but let's do a little exploring. The reason I find this issue troubling is that, frankly, I'm a bit of a gun nut. I like guns. the skill it takes to use them, the knowledge to build them, the power....they...give.....hmmmm. Okay we'll table that one for a moment.
So I like guns. Funny thing is I don't have one in the house. Why? Because I have no use for one, I'm out of the army, I don't hunt anymore, and my job doesn't require it. Other than those reasons why would I have one? Home protection you say? Eh, not really. Statics have shown for years that most weapons bought for self protection were used on members of the household or other innocents. Yes the vast majority were accidents. But that doesn't change the facts that guns for home protection aren't very effective Let's look at it; there are two basic ways to store a firearm. Loaded and unloaded. simple so far. If you want to use it for defense it must be loaded. However that can lead to accidents, if the kids or grand kids start playing with it, if half asleep the "burglar" you shoot happens to be your teenager sneaking in or out of the house. or the most tragic the aforementioned teenager uses gun on self. It happens all the time people. often enough that it isn't news worthy on a national level anymore.
So keeping a loaded firearm in easy access isn't the best idea. What about gun safes and trigger locks? In my opinion trigger locks and safes are a great idea! for all guns not just loaded ones. The big benefit to locks and safes are that they work. IF you restrict access to the keys it eliminates the kids playing cops and robbers and killing their friends. Having the extra time getting the gun also tends to cut down the use of a firearm in a domestic violence situation. However it also means a delay when a potential burglar is in the house, and while you're opening the safe, said burglar sneaks up behind you and now HE has your gun.
I have noticed that most people that keep a gun for self protection only, don't have much (or any) experience handling firearms and they are scared. This is not a good combination folks. So some gun restrictions might be a good idea IN DISTINCT CASES!! For example you should have to have a license in New York City or Washington D.C. in order to have a firearm. However in Burns WY if you have a deer rifle, a couple of shotguns and a revolver loaded with bird-shot for snakes. as long as you handle and store them safely, who cares?
Okay that's one thing settled in my mind, A citizen should be able to own a firearm with a few common sense restrictions. (licensure in large urban areas, no felons etc.) no license for open carry but permit for concealed would be a good idea in most states.
Going back to the power issue. Guns do represent power only a fool would think otherwise. And with power comes responsibility. Remember there are irresponsible idiots on both sides of the issue. I wish there was a test that could weed out anyone who was unstable, foolish, or just plain stupid. I would also like this test applied to almost every aspect of life including but not limited to: Holding public office, teaching, access to public media and procreation. However I'm doomed to be disappointed We don't have such a test and never will. And that my friends is a good thing. Because it takes all kinds of people, just to make life worth living.
I have an acquaintance, (we don't have enough shared interests to be friends) who is opposite from me in a lot of beliefs and ideas. However we do get along. If he has a gun (and I'm certain he has several) I don't care. He is fairly level-headed and responsible. We will never agree on politics but if the manure hits the air impeller, I've no doubt he and I will be shoulder to shoulder protecting our families.
So in closing I just have a couple more things to say.
To the pro gun folks. A gun doesn't make you who you are. It's not a symbol, It's just a tool. Like a band-saw, use it wisely and everything's fine. Screw-up and it's going to be bad..
To the anti-gun folks. Yes guns kill people, so do knives, cars, drugs, and chop sticks. It's just a tool.
Take care of each other, & be well
Larry
You see, due to my upbringing, training and the way I was taught at home and in school, I try to see both sides of every issue. This often makes me a bit uncomfortable. Whether it is because my instincts say one thing and my mind another. OR I flat can't see the logic behind one side. (sometimes both) In those cases I usually try to go with my mind, using critical thinking and not letting my emotions rule the day. It seems to me that the general population of this country is very emotionally biased in it thinking. We tend to react at a gut level in response to anger, fear, or what we think is injustice. Worst of all we think emotionally when someone with something to gain pulls our emotional triggers.
Guns.
What it is about this tool that people get so wound up about? I'm not sure; but let's do a little exploring. The reason I find this issue troubling is that, frankly, I'm a bit of a gun nut. I like guns. the skill it takes to use them, the knowledge to build them, the power....they...give.....hmmmm. Okay we'll table that one for a moment.
So I like guns. Funny thing is I don't have one in the house. Why? Because I have no use for one, I'm out of the army, I don't hunt anymore, and my job doesn't require it. Other than those reasons why would I have one? Home protection you say? Eh, not really. Statics have shown for years that most weapons bought for self protection were used on members of the household or other innocents. Yes the vast majority were accidents. But that doesn't change the facts that guns for home protection aren't very effective Let's look at it; there are two basic ways to store a firearm. Loaded and unloaded. simple so far. If you want to use it for defense it must be loaded. However that can lead to accidents, if the kids or grand kids start playing with it, if half asleep the "burglar" you shoot happens to be your teenager sneaking in or out of the house. or the most tragic the aforementioned teenager uses gun on self. It happens all the time people. often enough that it isn't news worthy on a national level anymore.
So keeping a loaded firearm in easy access isn't the best idea. What about gun safes and trigger locks? In my opinion trigger locks and safes are a great idea! for all guns not just loaded ones. The big benefit to locks and safes are that they work. IF you restrict access to the keys it eliminates the kids playing cops and robbers and killing their friends. Having the extra time getting the gun also tends to cut down the use of a firearm in a domestic violence situation. However it also means a delay when a potential burglar is in the house, and while you're opening the safe, said burglar sneaks up behind you and now HE has your gun.
I have noticed that most people that keep a gun for self protection only, don't have much (or any) experience handling firearms and they are scared. This is not a good combination folks. So some gun restrictions might be a good idea IN DISTINCT CASES!! For example you should have to have a license in New York City or Washington D.C. in order to have a firearm. However in Burns WY if you have a deer rifle, a couple of shotguns and a revolver loaded with bird-shot for snakes. as long as you handle and store them safely, who cares?
Okay that's one thing settled in my mind, A citizen should be able to own a firearm with a few common sense restrictions. (licensure in large urban areas, no felons etc.) no license for open carry but permit for concealed would be a good idea in most states.
Going back to the power issue. Guns do represent power only a fool would think otherwise. And with power comes responsibility. Remember there are irresponsible idiots on both sides of the issue. I wish there was a test that could weed out anyone who was unstable, foolish, or just plain stupid. I would also like this test applied to almost every aspect of life including but not limited to: Holding public office, teaching, access to public media and procreation. However I'm doomed to be disappointed We don't have such a test and never will. And that my friends is a good thing. Because it takes all kinds of people, just to make life worth living.
I have an acquaintance, (we don't have enough shared interests to be friends) who is opposite from me in a lot of beliefs and ideas. However we do get along. If he has a gun (and I'm certain he has several) I don't care. He is fairly level-headed and responsible. We will never agree on politics but if the manure hits the air impeller, I've no doubt he and I will be shoulder to shoulder protecting our families.
So in closing I just have a couple more things to say.
To the pro gun folks. A gun doesn't make you who you are. It's not a symbol, It's just a tool. Like a band-saw, use it wisely and everything's fine. Screw-up and it's going to be bad..
To the anti-gun folks. Yes guns kill people, so do knives, cars, drugs, and chop sticks. It's just a tool.
Take care of each other, & be well
Larry
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Perceptions aka Does this view point make me look fat-headed.
This isn't the first time I've written about perceptions. Some folks would use the word misperception,but I really don't agree with that. What I'm talking about is the way we perceive. what filters we mentally place that color, and distort our perceptions. Misperception means that we've seen, or perceived something incorrectly. A fine word, the problem I have with it is that "perception" does not mean that we have seen something correct. That what we perceive is truth.
I manage security teams for a living, and the reports my staff prepare are endless. I insist that the reports be as detailed and accurate as possible. I need to know exactly what that staff member perceived. I also know that no matter how well trained, conscientious, and dedicated my people are, what they write down will not be the "truth". You see, there is no need for the word misperception, because perceptions are flawed at the outset.
Years ago I was in a class on investigation. We were learning how to dig through all the chaff to find that precious kernel of fact. This particular class was on eye witness accounts, and in the middle of it masked bandits broke into the room and kidnapped the instructor. Of course this was staged and in our infinite wisdom my classmates and I knew we had it nailed. we were just starting to tell each other what had happened when the instructor returned and called us to attention. (yes this was in the military police) He then had us write a report including descriptions of the kidnappers with out speaking to our classmates.
We were then dismissed for lunch and when we returned we had to write yet another report on the incident, this time we could talk with each other. While we were at lunch the instructors had taken our original reports and broke down the description of the subjects. the only thing that everyone in the class agreed on was that the subjects wore dark clothing and some kind of full head mask like a ski-mask or balaclava. We couldn't agree even on the color. The instructors then went over the second report. Strangely enough these reports almost matched perfectly. There were fifty students in the class and close to ninety percent agreed that the subjects were: six in number, wore black jeans, sweaters, and ski-masks. They were all male and were all caucasian. So far so good, we thought.
The next four hours of the class were dedicated to the instructors going over the original reports and using them to get a full picture of what had happened. According to their analysis, the subjects: Were eight in number possibly six males and two females. Wore dark (navy blue or black) long sleeved tops and dark work pants. All wore dark gloves, and masks. One of the males had dark olive skin and spoke with a "Hispanic" accent.
Now that was something we could work on. The next day the instructors proceeded to teach us how to conduct an interview, to winnow out the chaff. We were also introduced to the subjects (all upperclassmen), who turned out to be six men, three women, (we missed one standing in the back) five were caucasian, three were African-American, and one man's ancestors came from Japan. That last man was the spokesman for the group and used a really bad fake Mexican accent stolen right from a Taco Bell commercial. He was also the only one not wearing a balaclava, but instead wore a stocking cap and a Zorro mask. Not only did that class teach us that eye witness testimony isn't accurate, but that everyone, everywhere filters their perceptions, no matter how exacting and professional they are, and that most importantly we allow others to alter our perceptions just in case we're not "right".
Truth is the most elusive concept we have. It is a bright jewel that hangs just out of reach and we can't see it. We know it's there, and sometimes we even brush it. But as soon as we're sure we have a good grip it slips away.
Human beings want to be correct, no not just correct. They want to be right! We never really are. We are flawed. We allow our misguided filtered perceptions to convince us that we know the truth, when maybe we have just brushed it. In some cases we aren't even in the same room. In other cases we have it in our hands and refuse to see it.
I joke that I'm suspicious by nature and paranoid by profession. To a great extent that's true. Frankly I have to be that way. People rely on me to find out what happened. Since I know my perceptions are flawed I am very cautious about what I consider to be the "truth". If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck and swims like a duck. I still want DNA evidence and three sworn affidavits from experts.
In other words I do the best I can. That is all any of us can do and I find it helps to realize my own faults. If something really hits my preconceptions, just makes my emotions go off the chart, that is the time to step back and be suspicious. Our sense of outrage can and will make us crazy. Unfortunately we don't keep it to ourselves. We grab our neighbors and friends (sometimes metaphorically sometimes not) and shout. "Can you believe this? Isn't it horrible? Something must be done!!!" We cause a great stir, get everyone worked up and soon this flawed perception has a life of it's own like a Frankenstein monster. Lets all remember that monsters like this can cause injury and death. Sometimes metaphorically, and sometimes not.
We find it easy to be critical of others, we also find it easy to be critical of ourselves. What we should be critical of is perceptions. Or I should say what other people tell us are "true" perceptions. Think thing through, check the facts, disregard the things that make you want to turn the monster loose, and most of all trust your instincts. Most of us have good ones and they get better when we continually back them up with facts. The great part about being human is that you can learn if you're not afraid to.
So remember if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, but you smell a rat. Check for a rodent covered in feathers.
Take care of each other and yourself.
Larry
I manage security teams for a living, and the reports my staff prepare are endless. I insist that the reports be as detailed and accurate as possible. I need to know exactly what that staff member perceived. I also know that no matter how well trained, conscientious, and dedicated my people are, what they write down will not be the "truth". You see, there is no need for the word misperception, because perceptions are flawed at the outset.
Years ago I was in a class on investigation. We were learning how to dig through all the chaff to find that precious kernel of fact. This particular class was on eye witness accounts, and in the middle of it masked bandits broke into the room and kidnapped the instructor. Of course this was staged and in our infinite wisdom my classmates and I knew we had it nailed. we were just starting to tell each other what had happened when the instructor returned and called us to attention. (yes this was in the military police) He then had us write a report including descriptions of the kidnappers with out speaking to our classmates.
We were then dismissed for lunch and when we returned we had to write yet another report on the incident, this time we could talk with each other. While we were at lunch the instructors had taken our original reports and broke down the description of the subjects. the only thing that everyone in the class agreed on was that the subjects wore dark clothing and some kind of full head mask like a ski-mask or balaclava. We couldn't agree even on the color. The instructors then went over the second report. Strangely enough these reports almost matched perfectly. There were fifty students in the class and close to ninety percent agreed that the subjects were: six in number, wore black jeans, sweaters, and ski-masks. They were all male and were all caucasian. So far so good, we thought.
The next four hours of the class were dedicated to the instructors going over the original reports and using them to get a full picture of what had happened. According to their analysis, the subjects: Were eight in number possibly six males and two females. Wore dark (navy blue or black) long sleeved tops and dark work pants. All wore dark gloves, and masks. One of the males had dark olive skin and spoke with a "Hispanic" accent.
Now that was something we could work on. The next day the instructors proceeded to teach us how to conduct an interview, to winnow out the chaff. We were also introduced to the subjects (all upperclassmen), who turned out to be six men, three women, (we missed one standing in the back) five were caucasian, three were African-American, and one man's ancestors came from Japan. That last man was the spokesman for the group and used a really bad fake Mexican accent stolen right from a Taco Bell commercial. He was also the only one not wearing a balaclava, but instead wore a stocking cap and a Zorro mask. Not only did that class teach us that eye witness testimony isn't accurate, but that everyone, everywhere filters their perceptions, no matter how exacting and professional they are, and that most importantly we allow others to alter our perceptions just in case we're not "right".
Truth is the most elusive concept we have. It is a bright jewel that hangs just out of reach and we can't see it. We know it's there, and sometimes we even brush it. But as soon as we're sure we have a good grip it slips away.
Human beings want to be correct, no not just correct. They want to be right! We never really are. We are flawed. We allow our misguided filtered perceptions to convince us that we know the truth, when maybe we have just brushed it. In some cases we aren't even in the same room. In other cases we have it in our hands and refuse to see it.
I joke that I'm suspicious by nature and paranoid by profession. To a great extent that's true. Frankly I have to be that way. People rely on me to find out what happened. Since I know my perceptions are flawed I am very cautious about what I consider to be the "truth". If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck and swims like a duck. I still want DNA evidence and three sworn affidavits from experts.
In other words I do the best I can. That is all any of us can do and I find it helps to realize my own faults. If something really hits my preconceptions, just makes my emotions go off the chart, that is the time to step back and be suspicious. Our sense of outrage can and will make us crazy. Unfortunately we don't keep it to ourselves. We grab our neighbors and friends (sometimes metaphorically sometimes not) and shout. "Can you believe this? Isn't it horrible? Something must be done!!!" We cause a great stir, get everyone worked up and soon this flawed perception has a life of it's own like a Frankenstein monster. Lets all remember that monsters like this can cause injury and death. Sometimes metaphorically, and sometimes not.
We find it easy to be critical of others, we also find it easy to be critical of ourselves. What we should be critical of is perceptions. Or I should say what other people tell us are "true" perceptions. Think thing through, check the facts, disregard the things that make you want to turn the monster loose, and most of all trust your instincts. Most of us have good ones and they get better when we continually back them up with facts. The great part about being human is that you can learn if you're not afraid to.
So remember if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, but you smell a rat. Check for a rodent covered in feathers.
Take care of each other and yourself.
Larry
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Starting over
As some of you may know I started a blog a couple years ago (which frankly, I got too lazy to continue) on a site called "The Well" started by a friend of mine. If I remember correctly the reason behind the name was that a village well throughout the centuries was a gathering place. A place where gossip, opinions, and ideas were shared. It's a nice idea, and I hope people will share thoughts and ideas with me. As for the other half of the title.....
I grew up in the sixties and seventies, at that time there was a t.v. show called "Laugh In" that did sketch comedy. I seem to remember a scene where a man climbs to the top of a tall mountain in order to consult with the guru at the top. The man approaches the guru and says. "Master, I have braved many dangers. I have traveled thousands of miles. I have consulted with wise men all over the world and they all say that you are the wisest. I have one question. In all your years spent on this mountain top, contemplating the mysteries of the universe, what have you learned?" "Ah my son." the guru replies. "I can tell you the one thing I have learned with absolut certainty." The guru paused then said. "Mountain tops are TOO *BLEEP* COLD!" (You couldn't use the word damn on t.v. in those days)
So you see, the reason behind "Mountain Top Well" is to mark a place where I can (and will) share my opinion, but to remind myself that if the air gets too rarefied, you can freeze your hooha off. After all, it's all about the hooha!
That said, this blog is a personal challenge to myself. My good friend Katherine Carol Ackerman started her own blog last Monday. Kathy and I met in third grade. I had just moved to town and since my fifth birthday fell on the last day you could be enrolled in the fall, I had always been the youngest kid in first and second grade. Until I met Kathy. Her birthday was even later in the year than mine, and as a result had attended kindergarten and first grade the year after I did. And then, the event that would change all of our lives........She SKIPPED SECOND GRADE!! Yes she was indeed a prodigy.
Now we attended a very small school, with somewhere between eight and twenty kids in each grade. Our student/teacher ratio was about four to one. Serious as a heart attack folks there just weren't that many of us. On the plus side there weren't enough kids to form too many clicks. one of the few clicks that did form was just Kathy and I. You see when they tested us for reading skill in either the third or fourth grade, most of the kids were just where they should be, reading at an appropriate level. Not us. Kathy may remember this clearer than I do, but I believe we tested as reading somewhere around the high school level. While everyone else was going through the "Uncle Wiggly" reading workbooks we had free range of the reading teacher's library. From that day on we were the school geeks.
So this is my challenge to myself and to Kathy. Let's keep these blogs going. It doesn't take much time and working together I think we can. (no little engine puns please). That's enough for now. Take care and have a good night.
Larry
I grew up in the sixties and seventies, at that time there was a t.v. show called "Laugh In" that did sketch comedy. I seem to remember a scene where a man climbs to the top of a tall mountain in order to consult with the guru at the top. The man approaches the guru and says. "Master, I have braved many dangers. I have traveled thousands of miles. I have consulted with wise men all over the world and they all say that you are the wisest. I have one question. In all your years spent on this mountain top, contemplating the mysteries of the universe, what have you learned?" "Ah my son." the guru replies. "I can tell you the one thing I have learned with absolut certainty." The guru paused then said. "Mountain tops are TOO *BLEEP* COLD!" (You couldn't use the word damn on t.v. in those days)
So you see, the reason behind "Mountain Top Well" is to mark a place where I can (and will) share my opinion, but to remind myself that if the air gets too rarefied, you can freeze your hooha off. After all, it's all about the hooha!
That said, this blog is a personal challenge to myself. My good friend Katherine Carol Ackerman started her own blog last Monday. Kathy and I met in third grade. I had just moved to town and since my fifth birthday fell on the last day you could be enrolled in the fall, I had always been the youngest kid in first and second grade. Until I met Kathy. Her birthday was even later in the year than mine, and as a result had attended kindergarten and first grade the year after I did. And then, the event that would change all of our lives........She SKIPPED SECOND GRADE!! Yes she was indeed a prodigy.
Now we attended a very small school, with somewhere between eight and twenty kids in each grade. Our student/teacher ratio was about four to one. Serious as a heart attack folks there just weren't that many of us. On the plus side there weren't enough kids to form too many clicks. one of the few clicks that did form was just Kathy and I. You see when they tested us for reading skill in either the third or fourth grade, most of the kids were just where they should be, reading at an appropriate level. Not us. Kathy may remember this clearer than I do, but I believe we tested as reading somewhere around the high school level. While everyone else was going through the "Uncle Wiggly" reading workbooks we had free range of the reading teacher's library. From that day on we were the school geeks.
So this is my challenge to myself and to Kathy. Let's keep these blogs going. It doesn't take much time and working together I think we can. (no little engine puns please). That's enough for now. Take care and have a good night.
Larry
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