Tuesday, April 8, 2025

How I Roll

I noticed that the outer edge of the driver's side tire of my new old van has worn considerably. As such, the first chore of mine today will be to get a new tire. I figure it'll hit me for around a hundred and a half for an inexpensive one.

But Marty, that sort of wear shows alignment issues. Don't you care about that?

Well, no. What I care about is that I have a 2007 Dodge Town and Country with 231,000 miles on it (hence, 'new old van' compared to my newer older van which is a 1996 with 185 grand against it) that isn't worth perhaps two thousand in front end work.

But better gas mileage!

Enough to overcome a couple thousand bucks over what's left of the life of the van? I doubt it.

Safety, Marty, safety!

I honestly don't think that will be a problem. I hear no clunking or other odd sounds when I drive or when I turn. I ain't concerned.

You'll need another tire in a year.

Maybe. Maybe not. If so, I'll spend another $150 on a cheap new tire then. At that rate, I'll need to get at least ten years out of the old Dodge to have paid for the front end work. The van isn't going to last that long.

Does any of this make sense? I'm open to the idea that it does not, quite honestly. Yet it's what I intend to do, and I'll tell you this: me Grandpa Joe would be proud. And that thought delights me.

Monday, April 7, 2025

Dr. Haffner

Humility should, perhaps, prevent me from writing this. Yet it has been on my mind a lot lately and I want to talk about it, as it was one of the quickest yet most profound moments in my life. And I knew it at the time. So if you would kindly indulge me and ignore any hint of arrogance, I would appreciate it.

Dr. Haffner was my instructor in a college Education class called Reading in the Content Areas. My apologies but I do not remember his first name. I still don't actually know what the point of that class was either, but so be it.

We argued all semester, as our basic philosophies of education, our outlooks on life, were radically opposite. I won't bore you with details but it began with the fact that he taught that all things, all things, mind you, are relative and that there are no eternal, objective truths. As too many of you probably know by now, I firmly believe in objective truth. Life simply makes no sense without such a doctrine at the core of our actions.

Part of our grade rested on a 20 page term paper reviewing a book about education. I chose to write about The Abolition of Man, a spectacular little book by C. S. Lewis asserting that the doctrine of objective truth is at the center of any good and useful system of teaching. 

On the day of our final exams Dr. Haffner told us that he would give us back our reviews as we handed in our exams, and offer us a word or two on what he thought about them. The students who left before me, I had noticed, had a couple of minutes of quiet talk with him as they were given back their papers.

When I walked up he took my test and handed me my essay. But when I went to grab it he held on, so that we both stood there kind of staring at one other. It's melodramatic to say such things, but it felt as though a hush came over the room. Finally Dr. Haffner said to me, in a kind of quiet, thoughtful tone, "You really believe this, don't you?"

"Yes sir, I do," I answered in a subdued voice.

He released my term paper and offered me his right hand. "Good luck, Marty," he said with a great and deep sincerity. I simply said thank you, a very grateful thank you, and left.

I really feel, in that moment, we had truly understood each other and that we parted with an enduring mutual respect despite our adversarial stances. It was no more than half a minute, but maybe the most profound and sublime thirty seconds of my life. I actually choke up a bit when thinking about it.

I don't know where you are these days, Dr. Haffner. But I hope you are well.

Sunday, April 6, 2025

Blood Draw

I believe it was me Uncle Mike what it happened to, but, as they say, no need for facts to get in the way of a good story, so I'll say it was him.

When he was a young man and stationed in South Korea with the US Army, he struck up a conversation with a Republic of Korea, or ROK, soldier who was in his military finery. Uncle Mike was impressed by the man's sword which was part of his dress uniform. "Could I take a look at that?" Uncle asked.

The ROK handed it to him and Uncle dutifully admired it for a moment or two before handing it back. "May I see your hand?" the allied soldier then asked.

Confused, Uncle held out his right hand anyway. The ROK took it and nipped the barest bit from Uncle Mike's right pointer finger, just enough for a couple drops of blood to appear and cause just a bit of pain. "Why'd you do that?" he demanded.

"If I draw my sword I must draw blood," was the explanation.

"Coulda told me that before," Uncle Mike grumbled, understandably.

Saturday, April 5, 2025

The Unknown

The drug commercials: they're everywhere. And in virtually every one of them the list of cautions which the voice over artist reads is longer than a drug store receipt. We're told more about what could go wrong than how the drug can help what ails you. Then comes the kicker, the final caution which lands like a brick.

Don't take great new wonder drug if you're allergic to it.

Well, how do you know that before you take it?

I mean, seriously, how? Or is this just more Lawyerball?

Thursday, April 3, 2025

On A Friday Afternoon

Death on a Friday Afternoon by Fr. Richard John Neuhaus is the most recent book that I've read. I haven't read another book since, having finished it in January. I don't know that there's another book worth reading, quite frankly. Nothing that I've picked up since has held my attention. This is not hyperbole, nor overstatement. The bottom line fact of the matter is that I've never been so shaken or so profoundly upended by anything else I've read, seen, or heard.

I want very much to talk about it. Several times I've began to write about the book and the issues and ideas it explores but abandoned the attempt. Today I have resolved to try finally to put my impressions to words.

Until recently I thought I had a pretty clear understanding of Christianity in general and my own Catholicism in particular. Yet now, all that seems incredibly wrong. Not that I am no longer Catholic nor because I lack faith in religion or the Church, but because Neuhaus simply laid down arguments so compelling they leave my spirit in wonder. I'm almost ashamed of the childishness which passed for thought in me all these 65 years.

Neuhaus emphasizes the last words of Christ while on the Cross and what they might - almost what they must, but we have to be careful about putting our meaning into Our Lord's words, as even he concedes - and why they're so important. He urges the reader to spend some time on Good Friday at the foot of the Cross with Jesus, and not to rush to Easter so quickly, especially so that we consider His words as He was nailed to a tree.

Christ had to die, you know. That's something we tend to ignore, or at least brush past. The imagery is too disturbing. But He had to die to make right all the wrongs in the world. We can't do it, we humans. At our poor level of understanding we can't fully comprehend evil and as such can't fix things. "Father, forgive them, they know not what they do," Jesus begs on our behalf as He hangs there dying. Someone who knows completely what must be done has to do the job of atonement - at-one-ment, Neuhaus says - because things must be made right. It's simple justice.

But I do not do the book justice. So many things Neuhaus says are simply gems of theology which never occurred to me before. Some are more compelling in the human sense. To give an example, we generally see the Cross as very tall and intimidating. Yet Neuhaus asserts that it was about seven foot high; His Mother Mary and St. John the Apostle were almost at eye level with Him at the foot of the Cross. When Jesus says, "Woman, behold thy son...Son, behold thy mother," He was speaking directly to them in every sense.

Neuhaus comes dangerously close to supporting universalism, the idea that everyone will eventually be saved. I would never have given universalism the time of day before reading this book. I am still skeptical about it. But Neuhaus never says that universalism must be true, only pointing out that God works in whatever way God wants to work, and that we should be careful about assigning imperatives to Him. As such, and despite my philosophic doubts (I think it is fair to ask why we're put through any trials at all if we're to end up in the same place, though I do think that there may be a proper response to that), I am open to the idea that we may live in the hope that all find Heaven. That's a thought I would never have entertained not that long ago.

At times I had to stop reading because I was too teary-eyed to continue. We tend to think of evil as murder and theft and all those things covered by the Ten Commandments, but that isn't the whole of it. The young child who dies of leukemia - that's an evil. It must be made right. We can't take on the depth of that evil. Yet God can, by making it possible for that child to be reborn in the Great Glory of Heaven. Christ had to die because someone had to bear the stain of all evil. All evil.

And He gave himself up so willingly. Why didn't He call legions of angels to save Him from human clutches? Because it wouldn't have served justice. It would not save that child from illness, nor make up for it. It would have only brought glory to the god-man. But what good is there really in a god saving himself? Such a being would be above the world, not in it, and thus looking out for himself, not us. The Christian God insists He's here for us.

What may have hit me hardest reading Death on a Friday Afternoon was a quote Neuhaus used late in the book. It was from a hymn I sang in high school choir, the words of which always have stuck with me:

Those dear tokens of His Passion,
Still His dazzling body bear!
Cause of endless exaltation,
to His ransomed worshippers!
With what rapture, with, what rapture!
Gaze we on those glorious scars!

I can still sing it, though that would definitely not serve justice nor your ears. But the tune has stayed with me for fifty years now. It has run through my mind countlessly over those five decades. Those wounds, those scars of Christ, are the price of evil. And Christ paid it, making possible for each one of us the attainment of a greater good. 

I still fail to say how deeply this book has shook me. But I think I get it now, the big, final It, the real Truth, even as doubts linger. I am in awe, I am humbled; I find a strange, exciting calm in me about what the future brings. I feel I have discovered a great truth which is nearly beyond imagination, nearly unfathomable. 

I don't know what to think. And yet I find a clarity of thought I never imagined possible.

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Hey Presto

I'm sure I've said this before and I'm equally sure that every one of you out there are incredulous at the prospect. I'll go so far as to say that you probably don't believe it. Hell, I don't blame you. With my track record I don't believe I believe it myself. But it's true: I can be taught. And self taught no less.

In trying to get my writing career, such as it is, off the ground, I've resurrected a manuscript which I hadn't touched in about 15 years. When I decided to work on it I first had to find it. You know how computers are: everything's right there on your monitor or on your hard drive. If, and this is a big if, you remember how and where and under what title and form you saved it. That's when we discover HOW COMPUTERS ARE. They are literal. Very, precisely literal. Maddeningly, frightfully, disgustingly literal. A capital letter which should be small and, hey presto, your friendly Dell has no idea what the hell you're talking about.

Still, I managed to find the document. And it was blank, blanker than a Democrat's mind (insert Republican if it makes you feel better and I'm very sorry I offended you please don't cancel me) even though the word count function insisted there were more than 62,000 of them. What to do, what to do.

I selected 'copy' for the entire document, copied it, opened a new text document window and, hey presto, it appears, visible words and all, in the new window. Only rather than quote marks at the start and ending of someone speaking there were vertical lines. Again, who to do etc.

I select copy all again, copied the entire document again, pasted into an open text window of a different writing program and, wait for it... wait for it...hey presto! The entire manuscript was there, and with quote marks around spoken words and phrases.

So I can be taught. Inspiration, where do you come from? And now I get to begin submitting what will hopefully soon be another book, one of them novels we hear so much about. Hey presto, it could happen.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Happy Day

Uh, Happy New Year!

No, that's not right. Merry Christmas?

Happy Independence Day! Hmm; not that either.

Arbor Day! Yes, Arbor Day. Have a great Arbor Day. Go plant a tree.

Oh. Not Arbor Day. Thanksgiving? Don't eat too much Turkey!

Opening Day for baseball? No; off by about a week.

Not that? Then, then storm the Bastille! Remember the Maine and the Alamo! Fly the old Stars and Stripes for Flag Day! Remember your grandparents this Grandparents Day. Or Mom, yeah, Mom on Mother's Day! Treat her right!

Still not it? But I just know something's in the air today. Yet what?