Goodbye, June 2016

June 30, 2016

All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves. —Robert Browning

With the year half over, leaving June is like setting a marker, daring the rest of the year to improve

June 30. The year is half over. While the month has had its happy moments, such as the wedding of two dear friends, June has also seen a lot of death, a lot of turmoil, and an incredible amount of global stupidity. We’ve suffered the largest mass shooting ever in the US. We’ve laughed about secret sex parties. We’ve mourned the death of a real champion. We even tossed Kat in the water. For a mere 30 days, a lot happened. Our world has changed dramatically from where we were at the end of May.

To some extent, today puts a half-way marker on the year. We look back and see all we’ve lost, all that happened, and we dare the rest of the year to be better. We’ve had enough suffering. We don’t want more bad news. We don’t need more nonsense. We need new champions rising to the cause. We need faith restored in our governments. We need to feel that the entire planet is not hurtling out of control.

Of course, none of us can predict the future, and I’m not sure we want that ability. What we might see there could be too frightening to imagine. We’re also too early to start writing obituaries for the year. We can’t yet give up hope when so many good and wonderful things could yet happen.

Pictures You Might Have Missed

Midst all the activity of this month, chances are you might have missed a picture or two along the way. In fact, we’re pretty sure you did because we know which articles received the least amount of attention. So, before we totally close out this month of June and proceed forward with our year, we want to give you a chance to catch up on the pictures. There were some new ones this month, which is surprising given how busy we’ve been. So take a moment, enjoy the view and we’ll look forward to July.

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Current Issues / PotD / Social Commentary

No, You Do Not Understand

June 29, 2016

True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us. —Socrates

charles i. letbetter - no you don't understand

A recent survey illustrates how wide the gap is between how whites and blacks perceive racism

What we understand about any given topic is generally a lot less than what we like to think. Even after thirty-plus years, you won’t catch me claiming to know everything about photography. Knowing the limits of what we understand on any topic is important. Being open to different perspectives and various sources of information helps us to learn and grow.

What we understand, or don’t understand, about race, though, is critical. What we think we know shapes our attitudes and perceptions not only about the topic of race, but about the people whose appearance is different than our own. The tone of our voice, the vocabulary we use, even our physical mannerisms change based on what we think we understand about people of different ethnicities and backgrounds.

There are gaps of perception between people of any two races, but the strongest and perhaps widest gap, particularly on the topic of race and equality, may lie between the two most broadly identified groups: blacks and whites. A new survey released Monday by the Pew Research Center highlights just how incredibly wide that gap is. For all the advancements we like to think we’ve made, what we understand about each other isn’t much at all.

Starting With An Open Mind

I feel, to some degree, that I’m coming into this conversation with a perspective that may leave me disadvantaged. I don’t identify as either white or black. Both Cherokee and Choctaw ancestry exists in our family makeup, along with a hodgepodge of European strains. I choose to identify with native peoples because I feel that ethnicity more closely relates to who I am. Interestingly enough, when my hair is long people tend to respond to me in the context of a person of native heritage. When my hair is short, though, as it is now, I am treated more like an old white guy.

I also have the ability to observe how Kat’s children are treated. While their biological paternity is black, they are both relatively light skinned. Little Man even has light blue eyes. Tipster is the darker of the two, but rarely has anyone, including teachers, identified them as being of mixed race. Their exposure to black people and black culture is limited to classmates and neighbors.

What we understand, the nature of our experience, is changed by how we racially identify. Our perceptions are based upon what we perceive in comparison to our own experience. Therefore, we must come into any conversation about race with our minds open to the fact that what we actually understand is very limited.

Understand We Have A Problem

Racial inequality in the United States is a problem. Denying the severity of that problem makes it worse. We see inequality in the justice system. We see inequality in the policing of black and white communities. We see inequality in education. We see inequality in legislative representation. If we genuinely want to understand each other more and improve the situation, we must first acknowledge that the problem is real. Unfortunately, not everyone seems able to do that.

While whites generally recognize that blacks are treated less fairly in legal matters, especially those involving police, their perception of inequality in more normal, everyday activities, such as applying for a loan or mortgage, at work, or when shopping or dining out
is skewed. Blacks understand the inequality of those situations because they experience the inequality of those situations. Whites, on the other hand, are blissfully unaware of the struggle blacks face simply trying to do the same things everyone else does.

Perception does not necessarily equate with reality, but the sizable gaps in those perceptions illustrate the severity of the problem. White people, as a group, don’t understand just how much inequality black people experience. Perhaps, as that awareness increases, the perspective can change. Helping people become aware of the problem is the first step toward solving it.

Politics Blur Our Vision

One major factor in how whites perceive racial inequality is political party affiliation. Generally speaking, Republicans understand far less the reality of racism and are often quite annoyed when the topic is even raised. They mistakenly think they have a good understanding when the reality is they don’t have a clue.

For example, on the question of how much attention is paid to race, 41% of whites say that too much attention is paid to the topic. By contrast, 58% of blacks say we discuss race too little. Break that down by political party, though, and the picture gets more interesting. Among White Republicans, 59% say too much attention is given to matters of race, among Independents, 42% agree, but only 21% of Democrats hold that belief. 49% of white democrats believe that too little attention is paid to racial inequality.

Some numbers we see played out in real life. 78% of white Democrats say the country needs to continue making changes addressing racial inequalities. By contrast, only 36% of Republicans agree and 54% of Republicans believe things are just fine the way they are. If you were wondering how a racist, bigoted xenophobe could become the presidential candidate of the Republican party, you now have your answer.

Understand We Must Move Forward

One place where both blacks and whites agree is that individual discrimination is a greater issue than institutional discrimination. How we treat each other, one person at a time, makes a tremendous difference. Improving our personal relationships with each other inevitably trickles up into how corporations and institutions treat people. We each make a conscious decision when we meet someone how we are going to treat them and that has to improve.

Legislative representation at every level of lawmaking has to improve as well. This is challenging so long as political gerrymandering of voting districts is legal. Especially in the South, there are too many districts whose lines are so impossible distorted that it is impossible for black people to elect a black representative. At the federal level, there are only 43 black members of the House of Representatives and, quite shamefully, only one in the Senate. Being woefully under-represented is criminal. We need more black representatives in Congress.

Finally, we need to accept that white people don’t understand the challenges of the black community nearly as much as they think. Whites must take a new look at the tremendous advantage their race affords them. The playing field is nowhere close to level and white people, in overwhelming numbers must commit to changing that situation.

Sure, you have a black friend or two, and maybe you even work with black people, but if you think you really understand the challenge of being black in America, you’re wrong. Open your eyes. Open your mind. Let’s change this country.

Advertising / Fashion

Banning Photos Of Thin Models

June 27, 2016

charles i. letbetter - banning photos of skinny models

It is stupid on my part to think of banning the media. —Shah Rukh Khan

Banning a photograph because a model appears too skinny is making a dangerous judgement call

Banning photography for any reason is never a good idea. When we ban things such as art, photography, books, movies, and other means of expression, we are closing off an avenue of expression, a means of learning, and perhaps even a path to enlightenment and understanding for other people. Banning the arts in any form, even those distantly related such as advertising, is wrong.

So, in what seems to be a trend, the Brits have fucked it up again. This time, it’s specifically the Mayor of London, Sadiq Khan, who has banned ads on public transit that might challenge a woman’s body image. The mayor’s action responds to an ad that ran earlier this year asking whether one’s body was “bikini ready.” Many people found the ad offensive, even foolishly started a petition on change.org, and as a result made the ad more famous and seen in more places than it ever would have on its own.

The UK is already a bit of an anomaly in the advertising world in that its Advertising Standards Board has the ability to order the removal of any ad it doesn’t like for pretty much any reason. The board has been challenged frequently for banning ads in Britain that wouldn’t have been a problem elsewhere.

Body Image As A Matter Of Perspective

Body shaming is unquestionably a problem and body image, especially among teenage girls, is a critical issue that affects other decisions that women make. Body image determines what one chooses to eat, what one chooses to wear, and even who one chooses to date. As a result, things we used to say often, such as, “Is your body bikini ready?” are no longer publicly acceptable. We find those statements offensive because we presume they promote an unsafe body image.

But what about the image accompanying that ad? While I’m not inclined to re-publish the ad again here (it’s had more press than it deserves), I can tell you that the hourglass figure of the model would not be considered too skinny by a lot of people. If the same image had run with different copy, would Mr. Khan still be so upset? Would people still be offended?

Consider the picture I chose to go with this article. Do you consider the model too thin? Does her body shape offend you? If so, why? I can promise you that the model involved is quite healthy. She certainly does not consider her body too thin and her physician would likely agree. In banning a picture of her body, are they not body shaming and affecting her body image as well?

Body Image As A Matter Of Health

Both advertising and the fashion industry have for several years been challenged with the body image they present. Paris and Milan passed laws protecting models from being forced to maintain unhealthy weights. Such laws are good and necessary. No one should be asked to do things that put them in danger simply for the sake of a photograph. I have no problems with that.

However, laws banning photographs, such as this one in London, fail to actually show concern for the health of the model. There’s no requirement for a doctor’s note, such as there is in the Paris law. There are no means in which the model’s health is even considered. Rather, a judgement call is being made by an autonomous board (the members of which have yet to be selected) without any specific guidelines for what is and isn’t acceptable.

If we’re going to be concerned about body image, shouldn’t the health, both physical and emotional, of the model be considered first? If one is banning an ad because the image is considered unhealthy, is that not also telling the model that she is unhealthy as well?

I can tell you that I’ve worked with hundreds of models who are quite frustrated at people telling them they look too thin or unhealthy. How is this type of action any different than fat shaming?

Body Image As A Form Of Judgement

Vaness Friedman, a fashion editor for the New York Times, wrote an opinion piece on the matter of photographs of skinny models yesterday. In the article, she states:

Though often conflated with the movement to protect models, which resulted in legislation in France in 2015 requiring models to produce a doctor’s note attesting to their health, and digital alteration of photographs to be disclosed, banning is a separate issue. It doesn’t involve working conditions (which can and should be legislated), but subjective, and ultimately regressive, assumptions about what constitutes a positive female image.

Banning pictures of skinny women unfairly judges them. What right does someone else have to say that a skinny body is wrong any more than an overweight body is wrong based merely upon a photograph? Can you look at a set of photographs and know, based on the model’s size and shape, which one just found out she has breast cancer, or Crone’s disease, or diabetes, or a thyroid condition? Of course you can’t! One might guess, but a large portion of the time that guess would be wrong. The judgement is unfair and unreasonable.

Banning isn’t the answer

There’s no question that body image is an important issue. Everyone should be encouraged to embrace the fullness of who and what they are without any judgement. There is no right body type for every person. We all get to be unique.

In embracing that point of view, however, we must include women who are thinner. Their body image counts just as much as that of the woman who can’t keep her weight below 350 pounds.

We also have to start trusting women to make their own decisions about their body and stop trying to do it for them. While some women may look at a Gucci ad and find the models too thin, someone else may look at the same ad and be encouraged to eat better, exercise, or consult their doctor about losing weight. We must allow room for a difference of opinion regarding any photograph.

Censorship, in any form, is wrong. Banning pictures of skinny women is a huge mistake. If Britons get a chance to re-vote on the Brexit, perhaps Mr. Khan should also consider shelving his new law. Neither do the good for which they are advertised.

Current Issues / Mythology / PotD

Peace Eludes Us For A Reason

June 27, 2016

Each one has to find his peace from within. And peace to be real must be unaffected by outside circumstances. —Mahatma Gandhi

charels i. letbetter - peace eludes us for a reason

Our desire for peace is stymied by the road blocks we forcefully push into the path.

Peace is possible. I have no problems with that concept. We can live in harmony with one another, be happy together, and live more fruitful lives. We’ve known this my entire life and we know exactly how to get there. So why does peace elude us? Why do we seem to careen from one conflict to the next?

For billions of people, the path to peace lies within their religion, their belief system, and that should work. With as many people who believe on some level, one might expect that peace would be inevitable. Unfortunately, in too many cases, it is the leaders of those religions who toss up roadblocks. When religious leaders spew hate, when pastors stand on pulpits (literally) and claim that their deity should strike dead all LGBT people, or support a bigoted, xenophobic, homophobic candidate for president, they put hate in the way of our path to peace.

Not that we need their help. We provide enough roadblocks on our own. Our continued quest for power and dominance over other people, or even our own lives, creates canyons that become impossible for us to cross. Our inability to give up our desire for things, our desire for external pleasures, our insistence on being the best at any and all costs, make finding peace impossible.

Some Get It Right

Not everyone is quite so removed from peace. There are a couple of people who stepped forward over the weekend and offered, once again, to illuminate the path to peace for us. Interestingly enough, both are the top religious figures within their extended belief systems. They differ on a great number of details, but they both know the way to find peace.

Pope Francis was aboard a flight to Rome from Armenia, talking with reporters, when he made a statement that shocked many but lit a candle of awareness for many more believers. He said:

I believe that the Church not only should apologize to the person who is gay whom it has offended but has to apologize to the poor, to exploited women, to children exploited for labor; it has to ask forgiveness for having blessed many weapons. The Church must say it is sorry for not having behaved as it should many times, many times — when I say ‘the Church,’ I mean we Christians because the Church is holy; we are the sinners. We Christians must say we are sorry.

The Catholic church has traditionally been slow to apologize for anything. What Pope Francis instructs believers to do, however, is cleansing. Making amends for wrongs of the past clears away many of the roadblocks that prevent us from moving forward. He sets an example for people to follow not only in asking forgiveness but effectually stating that actions the church has taken toward LGBT people, the poor, women, exploited children, and its stance on weapons are wrong.

Reaching Even Deeper

While the pope’s comments are welcome and refreshing to the ears, they alone are not enough to drive us toward peace. Apologies and asking forgiveness are a good start, but there are more personal issues with which we need to content.

Probably the best use of my time this weekend was watching and listening to His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibetan Buddhism during his visit t o Indianapolis. That over 6,400 people were in attendance speaks to how many people are struggling along a path toward ultimate peace and tranquility. The Dalai Lama’s words were often mixed with humor, but his instructions were strong.

“We are all brothers/sisters,” the Dalai Lama said frequently in an address focusing on compassion. He related compassion as the most human of emotions. “Now scientists even say, basic human nature is compassionate. The compassionate feeling toward your enemy, the trouble maker … only we human beings can do that.” He referred to the love a mother has for her child and a child for its mother, instructing that such love breeds compassion that is the source of peace for the world.

Getting There From Here

The Dalai Lama offered many ways we can remove the roadblocks holding us back from achieving peace, both personally and corporately. Among them, were:

Stop linking religion to violence and fanaticism. “There is no such thing as Muslim terrorist or Buddhist terrorist,” he said. “There is just terrorists. … Those who commit such acts of violence are insincere in their religion.”
Education of the current generation is key. Multiple times the Dalai Lama emphasized that compassion must be part of the curriculum and an emphasis in how we teach children if there is to be any hope of change. He said that it was “too late” to change the hearts and minds of older people, but that the education of children in how to be compassionate could bring a more peaceful world.
Everyone has the potential for love and compassion within them. The Dalai Lama spoke often of a “seed” of love within everyone that holds the potential for compassion and that we must first focus on growing that seed before attempting to take on the world.
Action, not prayers, changes the world. The Dalai Lama brushed off the concept that prayers and “releasing pigeons” had anything to do with world peace. Rather, he said, “We created this violence, so we can reduce this violence.”
Accept that we are all the same. Again, referring to the world’s population as brothers/sisters, he said, “Sometimes there is too much discrimination on color, on class — rich and poor. This actually (is a) man-made distinction.” He emphasized that we call come from one source. We are all the same.

Knowing Where To Start

Looking across what seems like a minefield of obstruction, one might feel overwhelmed by all that must happen before we can change the world. The starting place should be obvious: start with yourself. There is nothing we do, nothing we say, that is not an extension of who we are and how we feel about ourselves. We must change ourselves before we can change the things outside ourselves.

Maybe, just maybe, religion might work for some. The Dalai Lama said, “All religions carry the same message — love, compassion, things like that. That’s the basis of our harmony.” Understanding, of course, he is referring to the core tenets of religious belief, not the various bastardizations found in the majority of worship centers.

Others may find that path through meditation, yoga, deliberate focus, conscious awareness of the temporal nature of all things, finding happiness in being.

There is more than one way to get there, but each of those starts with you and I finding that seed of love within us, building that into an immense compassion, and then teaching that first to our children and then to others.

We can achieve the peace that eludes us but we cannot expect it to come from anyone other than ourselves.

Fashion / Photography / PotD

Street Style Loses Its Icon

June 26, 2016

The best fashion show is definitely on the street. Always has been, and always will be. —Bill Cunningham

New York Street Style has only one icon, and now he’s gone

Street style is a big thing in the fashion world. So big, that photographers from all over the world flock to the fashion capitals just to stand outside fashion shows and take pictures of the guests arriving. All over New York, London, Milan, and Paris, there are people claiming to be street style photographers for this online magazine or another. They’re quick to ask your name then shove their card in your hand before moving to the next victim, er, subject. None of them matter.

Only one street style photographer really mattered, and that was Bill Cunningham. Bill died yesterday afternoon at the age of 84.

There are only two or three photographers remaining for whom I would care to write a remembrance. For some, I can write about the experience of meeting them, of talking with them, and maybe even being friends. Not Bill. I have to write about Bill from a place of admiration and respect because he didn’t let anyone get any closer than that. He lived alone. He didn’t “hang out” with “the guys.” Try addressing him on the street and he waved you off. He wouldn’t go out for a drink. He wouldn’t just sit and talk. He was singularly focused on one thing: taking pictures.

A Dislike For Celebrity

Anyone who has wandered around Manhattan much at all has likely seen Bill. He rode a bicycle everywhere. The Times says he had over 30 of them over the years and that number doesn’t surprise me. Riding a bike in Manhattan can be challenging, but even as late as this past March he was still out there. He always wore the same blue worker’s coat, khaki pants, and white tennis shoes. He wore his camera slung around his neck, not too low, always at the ready. You couldn’t miss him.

One of the best quotes about Bill being used today is from Vogue‘s Anna Wintour: “Everyone dresses for Bill.” And they did. Modeling agencies would send up and coming models to walk the streets near where Bill was found most often in hopes of them being photographed. Celebrities pushing a new movie or desperately wanting some recognition would do the same. Yet, Bill didn’t care about celebrity. He didn’t need them in front of his camera. On more than one occasion he said:

I don’t pay attention to celebrities. I don’t photograph them. They don’t dress so… interestingly. They have stylists. I prefer real women who have their own taste.

Even at parties where the rich and famous were practically dripping from the chandeliers, one never saw Bill mixing and mingling. He’d be standing off to the side, watching, snapping away, fading into the decorations so as to not draw attention to himself.

An Obsession With Fashion

Street style didn’t start with Bill Cunningham and it won’t end with his passing. What we will miss, though, is an obsession with fashion that was particularly unique and original. Unlike most street style photographers who are simply looking for any way to get their work published, Bill was on the street taking pictures out of passion. Bill loved fashion. More specifically, Bill loved what people did with fashion and how they created their own style.

In turn, fashion loved Bill right back. There was a level of unspoken endorsement when Bill showed up to photograph a fashion show. He wouldn’t go to just any runway he happened across. He was more comfortable on the street and wasn’t shy about letting designers and editors know that. When he did shoot a fashion show, though, he didn’t stand with all the other photographers in the “pit.” Instead, he had a front row seat, almost always on a corner where he could catch models as they turned. He could get the front and back of an ensemble by just swiveling in his seat.

Fashion honored Bill with plenty of awards as well, but he never mentioned them, never made a big deal about them. Instead, he’d leave the ceremony where he had been honored and hit the street, taking pictures. He didn’t care about accolades, he cared only about fashion.

A Unique Photography

Bill never considered himself a good photographer. He thought he was too shy and not nearly aggressive enough. He never gave himself much credit.

For the bulk of his career, he shot on an inexpensive 35mm camera using Kodak T-Max film. When the Times made the switch to digital cameras, he was initially upset. He didn’t care for all the bells and whistles that got in the way of him taking a picture. What brought him around was the ability to turn off or dampen the sound of the shutter click. The extra quietness allowed him to take pictures without people noticing, catching them in more “real” poses.

He kept all his negatives from the early days. I’ve no idea to whom his estate might fall, but I am hopeful that perhaps someone will curate all those hundreds of thousands of frames and create a book of Bill’s photography. He wouldn’t have wanted the attention during his life, but he certainly deserves it.

Not Here For The Money

One of the most interesting aspects of Bill’s life is that he didn’t chase a paycheck. He worked totally freelance until 1990. After being hit by a truck and hurt rather badly, he finally accepted an offer from the New York Times for the insurance.

The money wasn’t a big thing to Bill, though. More important was the freedom to photograph what he wanted, where he wanted, and how he wanted. He didn’t want or need any editor telling him what to do. Bill was fiercely independent and would tear up advance checks from magazine editors who tried to get him to do a specific editorial for them.

As a result, Bill didn’t live a luxurious lifestyle. He slept on a cot. He wore simple clothes. He ate simple meals. And then, he took pictures.

Leaving A Legacy

If I’m having trouble keeping the tears from my eyes now, it’s likely to be worse come September. I never watched a fashion show but what I was always looking for Bill. Hitting New York this fall, the street is going to feel a bit empty. I’m going to look at whoever is sitting on that front row corner and think, “You don’t belong there. That’s Bill’s seat.”

I’m going to open the Style section of the Times now and it’s going to be a little less exciting. I’m sure they’ll find street style pictures from someone, perhaps a young freelancer, but it won’t be the same. Young photographers have ambition, but Bill had passion and the difference is noticeable.

We will miss you, Bill Cunningham. Know that your work and your life will always be remembered.

Art / Current Issues / Fashion / Mythology / PotD

Protest Naked: 10 Illustrated Reasons

June 23, 2016

What is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life? —Aldous Huxley

charles i. letbetter - protest naked: 10 illustrated reasons you should

There is much wrong in the world, but only a few things arousing the passion necessary to protest.

Yesterday was amazing. Following the lead of legendary civil rights icon Rep. John Lewis (D-GA), Democratic members of the House of Representatives decided to protest that chamber’s lack of a bill on gun control by holding a sit-in. Mr. Lewis understands the power of a sit-in protest. During his work with Dr. Martin Luthing King, Jr., Mr. Lewis was involved in many such protests, including a rather famous one at a Woolworth’s lunch counter. As a result, the House of Representatives came to a grinding halt and House Speaker Paul Ryan managed to look like a fool in opposing them.

Staging a protest can be a powerful weapon when it is done at the right time, by the right people, in the right way. The sit-in worked because the time was right. After the events in Orlando, a majority of Americans, some polls say as much as 90 percent, favor some form of gun control. The fact that GOP leadership refuses to even consider such a bill gives Democrats incredibly clout with public opinion swaying in their favor.

There are other things, though, that are worth protesting. We think the strongest form of protest is not only holding a sit-in, but doing so naked. Showing up for something without clothes demonstrates a deeper level of purpose, passion, and commitment to the cause, whatever it may be. Nudity in protest represents honesty, transparency, and truthfulness. When faced with a sea of naked bodies, a lot can get done. So, here’s our list.

Gun Control

The protest has already started. Now, we should take it to the next level and get everyone naked. Okay, maybe not everyone. Older members are good leaving on their skivvies. Still, with all the passion and attention that yesterday’s protest raised, now would be a good time to go all in and make Republicans think twice before trying another procedural stunt like last night’s vote. There is absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t have extended background checks and registration, and require insurance. We do the same for cars and that doesn’t impede on anyone’s right to drive a car. Guns are more dangerous. We shouldn’t hand one out to every idiot in the village.

The UK Brexit Nonsense

The issue being voted upon in the UK today is whether or not the country should leave the European Union alliance, aka, the Brexit. Smarmy conservative Brits, rather on par with the intellectual absence of our own Tea Party, have convinced a large number of Britons that they need to separate themselves and go back to being independent. While, on the surface, that might sound attractive, what every major economist, every major bank, and every political ally have tried to warn these fools is that removing one link causes the whole fucking chain to fail. Every major industry that does any business outside Britain is going to be hurt. This isn’t the 16th century, folks. Britain is part of a global economy. You don’t just get to walk out. So yeah, this is worth staging a nude protest.

Wall Street and Big Banking

Eight years ago, the cheating and stealing ways of Wall Street and big investment banks caused our economy to collapse. Millions of people lost their retirement funds, their college education funds, and other investments. At the end of the day, though, no one was really punished sufficiently to result in any change. Now, all signs point to yet another collapse within the next three years, one potentially made worse depending upon who becomes president. Remember the Occupy Wall Street movement? We think it’s time to bring that back. Naked.

Fur

People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) is already using nude protest methods in their “I’d Rather Go Naked” campaign. Cara Delevigne, Alicia Silverstone, Pink, four Miss USA winners, and a host of others have already stripped for the sometimes racy and often banned ad campaign. Yet, the use of fur in fashion hasn’t let up a bit. While some European designers are beginning to substitute synthetic furs, which are longer lasting and often softer, Italian design houses especially, many of which began as furriers, have been resistant to change. One of the worst offenders, though, is American designer Dennis Basso. Each season he sends dozens of furs down his runway, even for summer. This is nonsense. Raising and harvesting furs for fashion is cruel. Perhaps we should all just go naked.

Religion In Politics

On Tuesday, the presumption Republican nominee for president announced an “executive council of evangelical advisors.” If anything should have your ready to protest in the buff, this should. No one does more to harm civil rights, women’s reproductive rights, and LGBT rights than do evangelicals. That a presidential candidate would embrace such hate and allow them to give him advice on policy should frighten every American. Why these people think they have any right to stick their nose into anyone else’s business defies reason. Our Constitution dictates separation of Church and State for a damn good reason. Don’t talk to me about imaginary second amendment rights when first amendment rights are taking a greater beating.

Freedom of the Press

Yes, journalism and the distribution of information, in general, has some issues. However, for all their faults, we still need these news producers to keep us informed at an introductory level. We may have to dig to find the truth of a story, but we wouldn’t know about the story at all without them. We’ve already talked about this to some degree, and watching how a billionaire is gleefully sending Gawker into bankruptcy extends our concern even more. The presumption GOP nominee for president has also banned several media sources from his events because he doesn’t like their criticism. Freedom of the Press is a critical element to our democracy. Getting naked to protest infringement upon that freedom should be a no-brainer.

Global Warming & Science Denial

Maybe we can stage this protest outside; just be sure to bring plenty of sunscreen. The ongoing denial of science in general, and specifically the matter of global warming, is both worrisome and dangerous. Global warming itself is not something that changes based upon how many people believe. The effects of the problem, the consequences of our inaction, are going to happen whether we pay them any attention or not. Do we wait until we’re neck-deep in water or our children are sunburned while waiting on the school bus before we begin a large-scale protest? This is another topic that seems natural for nudity as well. If we don’t do something, we’ll all need thermal shields.

Rape Culture

One of the most disturbing things I’ve read today is the account of a German model who was raped and then, adding insult to injury, fined because the judge doesn’t think she was actually raped. This is, of course, complete and utter bullshit and warrants a protest of thousands of naked women marching through the streets. Why naked? Because there is no better way to emphasize that a women, alone, is in control of her body. Her being naked does not justify rape. Her wearing short skirts or high-heeled shoes is not inviting rape. Being drunk or high is not a license for rape. It’s time to put this rape culture to an end.

Costs of College Education

I was special and took five years to finish college. Paying for it was a challenge and when I finished the amount of debt felt like a horrible burden around my neck. However, my debt over 30 years ago was less than $20,000. Today, students pay that much or more per year. Have classes improved that much? No. Have non-athletic facilities improved that much? No. Has the value of a college degree improved that much? Hell no. Yet, if anyone wants a job, even an easy one requiring no skill, the preference is for college graduates. Naked bodies lying all across the quad at homecoming sounds like an honorable protest to me.

Restrictions On The Human Body

Why aren’t we seeing any nude protests? Largely because, in most places, they are illegal. Or, we think they are. The Supreme Court has already ruled that being naked is a viable form of protest and political expression. We are still stymied, though, by so-called decency laws that confusing to read and legally fraught with error. Police see a naked person, or a group of naked people, and assume they must be doing something wrong. We must fight for our right to use our bodies, unclothed and unencumbered, as a means of expression and protest. There’s no logical way this protest cannot be naked.

I’m sure there are more things that might benefit from naked protest. I’ll leave you to decide what those might be. What’s clear, though, is that when large enough groups of voters become passionate enough about an issue, legislators listen. I cannot think of a more important issue than our bodies. I cannot think of a stronger means of protest. If I start, will you follow?

Music / Nature

Music For Today’s Storms

June 22, 2016

The ship of democracy, which has weathered all storms, may sink through the mutiny of those on board. —Grover Cleveland

Storms are coming today, especially if you live in Indiana. A little music should help ease the stress

This morning’s weather forecast made it clear: we’re in for storms. Not just a small line of them this time, but a whole mass that hits once during the day and then again this evening into tomorrow morning. For my friends in Oklahoma, Kansas, and Texas, this is nothing new. Up here, though, storms this heavy don’t come along quite as regularly. I heard one meteorologist even mention the threat of tornadoes. I don’t like tornadoes up here because I can’t stand outside and see them coming. I don’t like any storms I can’t watch roll in.

I find it interesting how the weather is used as metaphor for many things. The storms of life. Stormy relationships. Situations get stormy, too, and I’ve even known a few people whose personality could best be described as stormy. The tumultuous, often violent weather is a destructive force over which we have no control. While we may see them coming, we’ve no idea how much damage they’ll wreak until they actually arrive.

Storms scare some and soothe others. There is a sense of cleansing that comes with storms, but there is also real danger with falling limbs and downed power lines. Those of us with arthritis would just as soon skip them.

A Relationship With Music

Storms have a sense of the poetic, which is why there is a link between the violent weather and music. Every genre I’ve encountered, including classical and polyethnic, has its storm music. The one that comes to mind most frequently is a gospel song by Alfred Tinley, Stand By Me:

When the storms of life are raging,
Stand by me (stand by me);
When the storms of life are raging,
Stand by me (stand by me);
When the world is tossing me
Like a ship upon the sea
Thou Who rulest wind and water,
Stand by me (stand by me).

The music slowly rising and falling infers the growing swells of the waves on an ocean with an emotional impact. When sung well in a baritone voice, One can almost feel the motion.

A Short Playlist

Violent weather seldom lasts long. They move through quickly and they’re gone. While today’s forecast calls for multiple rounds, we also know there will be periods of calm and peace. So, what I’ve assembled are five songs to get you through the loud, thundery parts of the day. They’re not going to out shout the storm, but hopefully, will give you something a bit distracting so perhaps you won’t feel quite so gloomy. Enjoy.

PotD / science / Social Commentary

Smart or Stupid, Is That A Question?

June 19, 2016

charles i. letbetter - smart or stupid, is this a choice?

I’m not the smartest fellow in the world, but I can sure pick smart colleagues. —Franklin D. Roosevelt

charles i. letbetter - smart or stupid, is that a question

Is there a problem with being smart or are we trying to justify stupid?

Americans, apparently more than any other country, have an obsession with being smart. We heap praises on those who demonstrate intelligence beyond the norm and we get upset when we realize that our educational system is producing graduates who can only read at a fifth-grade level. Even our television viewing skews toward characters we perceive as smart. Programs such as Scorpion and Elementary (based on the character of Sherlock Holmes), consistently generate high ratings. We even like our comedy smart. The highest rated sitcom, for multiple seasons, is The Big Bang Theory, where we watch allegedly intelligent scientist bumble their way through life. One of the reasons we like that show is because it delivers lines like these:

Leonard: Sheldon! We have to do this!

Sheldon: No, we don’t. We have to take in nourishment, expel waste, and inhale enough oxygen to keep ourselves from dying. Everything else is optional!

The bluntness of the exchange makes us laugh, but at the same time, we recognize the intelligence of Sheldon’s response and consider ourselves smart when we use that line on someone else the next day. We like being smart. Although, perhaps more correctly, we like thinking that we’re smart. Many of us are lacking in cognitive skills. The intelligence of television characters doesn’t rub off and make us smarter. Some people are stupid.

We Have A Problem

Once upon a time, the rate of acceleration in IQ among high school graduates was pretty impressive. Psychologist James Flynn found that from 1932 to 1978, IQ scores in the US increased by 13.8 percent. Putting that in other terms, a score that was average in 1932 would be in the bottom 20% in 1978. Yay us! I’m in that 1978 group. We’re smart!

Unfortunately, that trend failed to continue. Just because we give allegiance to intelligence doesn’t mean we’re all doing well in the brain category. Measurements are tough to come by and even more difficult to verify, but that are glimpses of where we stand. Consider that the College Board, the entity that administers the SAT, considers a score of 500 as a benchmark for who will do well in college. Not everyone takes the SAT, but if we look at states where the test is free and participation over 90 percent, we find that only 33 to 40 percent scored above that benchmark.

An article published this month in The Atlantic, while trying very hard to convince us that there is an unfair war on stupidity, admits that:

… less intelligent people are more likely to suffer from some types of mental illness, become obese, develop heart disease, experience permanent brain damage from a traumatic injury, and end up in prison, where they are more likely than other inmates to be drawn to violence. They’re also likely to die sooner.

Being Smart Isn’t Easy

I was amused by Jeffrey Zacks’ essay published on aeon disproving brain-training games and exploring how difficult it is to expand our level of intelligence. His list of things that are marketed as improving our intelligence, such as programs offered by Lumosity, which rocketed to a high of 50 million users, and PositScience, which isn’t quite as popular but uses a similar methodology, is long. He makes a very good case against brain-training, especially.

One of the general issues with many of the concepts that are supposed to help us improve our brains is that they only focus on one particular segment, usually related to memory. For example, does anyone else remember those little plastic games with the tiles that moved around to create a picture, or put numbers in order? Those little devils actually help advance our cognitive ability, but only in the area of recognizing patterns. Likewise, those tricks for helping remember people’s names do improve some memory skills, but only in terms of memorizing lists. The effects are not transferable.

While we think of Adderall and Ritalin as being primarily used with children who have attention deficit issues, there is evidence of them improving the cognitive ability in normal adults as well. This area of study might actually be promising accept for the fact that the effects are short term. They give a momentary boost of cognitive enhancement, but then it stops as the drug wears off and over time the “crash” goes below the starting baseline. Users are trading a moment of lessened ability for a moment of enhanced performance. Oh, and the drug that works best? Nicotine. Go figure.

Solutions Are Available

Strip away the biases of both articles, and what we find are solutions that can make us all smarter and reduce the rate of stupidity (yes, I’m using the word) that seems to be prevalent over a frightening number of people. We simply cannot excuse the growing trend among those whose cognitive abilities are diminished to demonize those who are smart. Atul Gawande, in his commencement address to the California Institute of Technology, made an interesting conclusion after talking about the growing distrust of science:

Even more than what you think, how you think matters. The stakes for understanding this could not be higher than they are today, because we are not just battling for what it means to be scientists. We are battling for what it means to be citizens.

Indeed, we need to be smart and that means we need to do the things that not only make us smarter, but put us back on track toward making our children and grandchildren smarter as well. Top priorities must be decreasing poverty and improving the quality and availability of early childhood education. One of our most stupid moves comes when we oppose funding that can solve both those problems. At the same time, nutrition and exercise, especially cardiovascular activities such as swimming, biking, and walking, are among the best ways to not only increase cognitive ability but prevent its decline as we get older. We have options.

Is This Really A Choice?

One thing for certain is that I’m not going to stop calling out those actions that are stupid. Perhaps we do need to be more careful in clarifying that, generally speaking, it is one’s actions and not the specific individual who is stupid. At the same time, though, we must realize that we are not nearly as smart as we like to think. We could be much smarter, even if we’re older and out of school. Our future depends on increasing our country’s overall intelligence so that we don’t do something incredibly stupid like nominating a bigoted, racist, homophobic, xenophobic, reality television host for president.

Oops, it may already be too late.

Music / Mythology / PotD

Looking For A Happy Place

June 17, 2016

Happy is the man who finds a true friend, and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife. —Franz Schubert

charles i. letbetter - finding a happy place

Sometimes finding a happy place that is void of angst is more difficult than it should be

I knew the moment I stepped out the back door this morning that today was going to be a struggle: I stumbled over the threshold as the dog pulled on his leash. This was one of those mornings where nothing felt quite right. The skies were cloudy and a brisk breeze was blowing. Our neighborhood is normally fairly well lit with a majority of people leaving their front porch lights on all night. Not this morning, though. Several lights that are normally on were off. Instead of keeping his nose to the ground, as he normally does on our morning walks, the dog was sniffing the air. He pulled at his leash more than usual and occasionally would stop dead to smell. He wasn’t happy. Something felt off.

The problem is, I keep having days like this. Granted, they don’t all start out quite as creepy as this morning’s walk, but finding the happy has been a struggle. Trying to be positive and reaffirming has been much more of a challenge than it should be. I’m having more negative experiences than I am positive. I know I’m not alone, either. I see your posts on Facebook and Twitter. You’re trying. You want to be happy, but when you think you’ve found a smile someone comes along and slaps it off your face.

Let’s try something different

I recently started reading the book Mindfulness: a Practical Guide To Awakening by Joseph Goldstein. Don’t let the ethnic sound of the author’s name fool you. This book is 100% unapologetically Buddhist. However, there is a fair amount of crossover between Buddhism and Dudeism, so I’m guessing there might be some things I can apply. Any help is appreciated.

I’ve not gotten too far into the book, though, because I have this habit of not necessarily taking people at their word. The Internet has reinforced that habit and this political season isn’t helping at all. So, just getting through the preface and introduction of the book took some time as I felt compelled to check the references. After four days, I’m just starting the second chapter. I’m not gleaning a lot just yet.

One thing that has struck a chord, though, is the concept of impermanence. Goldstein goes into some detail and even quotes an absolutely beautiful poem that drives the concept home. Ultimately, though, the whole thing can be summed up in a simple statement: none of us are getting out of this alive. There’s no point is getting all worked up about things when, in the end, every last bit of it is temporary. The beauty, the occupation, the money, the glamor, the reputation, and prestige all die. They gain us nothing that actually impacts our long term happiness.

Creating a starting point

If everything is temporal, then is there anything that actually can make us happy? There is a sign on the wall of our living room that reads: Happiness is not a destination, it is a way of life. I’m not sure who originated that thought, but it seems to fit in with where I think Goldstein is taking his readers. And if happiness is a way of life, then perhaps we might start by meditating on the elements of life that make us happy and consider why we have attached happiness to those pieces of our lives.

For example, the first cup of coffee in the morning makes me happy, not in the smile-on-my-face sort of way but more of an internal feeling that I’m now ready to handle the day. Why does that make me happy? Perhaps the answer is partly because that is the moment where all my senses begin to feel awake. Prior to that point, half of me is still asleep. I’m not fully aware until I’ve had that first cup of coffee.

There’s a problem with coffee being a happy point, though, according to Goldstein and the whole Buddhist mindset: coffee is a thing. True happiness is not found in things, they say.

Let’s try this again

Another thing that makes me happy is snuggling with Kat. We don’t get to do this as often as we’d like. We’re both busy and, quite honestly, we’re both the type of people who frequently prefer to be left alone. We are sitting here this morning enjoying each other’s company, but neither of us speaking or even sitting close together. So, when we do actually have time to connect on any physical level, even if it’s just leaning on each other before we drag our weary bodies to bed, I feel happy.

Again, the question has to be asked: why? What is it about sitting next to, touching another person, that generates feelings of happiness? Is it just Kat that generates that feeling? No, connecting with the kids in a gentle manner, sitting next to one of my boys, or even nuzzling with the dog generates a very similar, though not identical emotion.

I’m guessing it’s more the act of connecting with someone, or something, outside myself that generates the positive feelings we recognize as happiness. I’m fairly sure there’s psychological research to back up that premise as well, though I’m not going to take up the time to go looking at this exact moment. Reaching outside ourselves is a positive thing. Maybe that’s what makes us happy.

Or maybe it’s something else

Happiness can come from more than once source, though, and many of those don’t involve actually connecting with another person. For example, this young lady’s performance did a very good job of putting a smile on my face. Take a look:

Why does that little girl’s stand up comedy make me happy? Skipping the analysis, I’m going to guess the answer is because it reaffirms, or is at least sympathetic to my own sense of values and opinions. Like any good comedy, she leaves me feeling good about the fact that not everything going on in our lives makes a lick of sense.

In the end, however …

I’m still not there. I’m not finding that happy place this morning. Knowing that I’m going to have to deal with issues and attitudes I’d just as soon avoid negates the meditation. I’m sure Goldstein addresses that issue later in the book, but I’m likely several pages away from that revelation. Instead, I have Schubert’s Erlkönig running through my mind. Even if I didn’t know the translation of the lyrics, which are gruesome enough on their own, the music fits the sense of maddening futility I feel for the day. Running, constantly running, only to fail in the end.

I think I really need to be taking more pictures, don’t you? Maybe you should pose for them. Maybe one of us could find our happy place.

Current Issues / PotD

Half Full Or Half Empty

June 16, 2016

I have a simple philosophy: Fill what’s empty. Empty what’s full. Scratch where it itches. —Alice Roosevelt Longworth

charles i. letbetter - half full or half empty

There are days when one has to choose whether the glass is half full or half empty and proceed from there.

I almost didn’t write anything today. I feel empty. Immense pain fills my shoulders and elbows and fingers. Keeping my eyes open is a challenge despite the strong coffee. I had to push myself to make anything happen.

From where I’m sitting the glass seems half empty. After two days of severe storms, my muscles want to contract, my joints don’t want to move, and any pressure on my knees feels extreme. Having to keep children inside for the better part of two days was exhausting, leaving me with little energy to deal with them today. The lawn needs cutting but there’s still water standing across the yard so that’s not likely to happen. I’m aching to try out some different angles on a set of figure studies, but not only do I not have time, I’m not even sure who I would ask to pose.

Looking outside myself doesn’t help much, either. A new documentary, Living Wage Now!, chronicles the real world challenges, difficulties, and dangers of the Asian garment industry. The picture of forced sex, violence, and even workers being shot at goes beyond the horrors we’ve previously imagined. At the same time, fast fashion giant Uniqlo is positioning itself to become the largest apparel maker in the world. Given that fast fashion is much of the motivation behind garment factory horrors, it would seem that there is little chance of reform.

As we still pick apart the details of Sunday’s shooting in Orlando, I find myself angered by the fact that the shooter’s wife actually went with him to buy ammo knowing exactly what he was planning to do with it. How does a person know that someone is planning such a horrendous act and not say something to someone? I understand that she was a battered wife, but once he left the house she could have called someone. A grand jury decides later this month whether she’ll be charged as an accessory to murder.

Then, there’s the news of the two-year-old being dragged into a lagoon by an alligator at a Disney resort. That’s just one of those things a parent never expects, especially from a Disney property. As a nation, we’re captivated by the story because we cannot imagine experiencing such a horror ourselves.

All that and more leaves us with a glass that is struggling to be only half empty. If that were my only exposure to the world this morning, I would consider the glass completely empty, toss Pop Tarts at the kids, turn on Netflix for them, and go back to bed. That sounds like a very tempting scenario at the moment.

Yet, there are things that combat that empty perspective.

First, we didn’t get the brunt of the storms the past two days. There are thousands of people across the region who lost power, have large trees down in their yard, and are still dealing with serious flooding this morning. Kat had to dodge downed power lines and high water on her way home last night, but she did make it home safely.

Justice may finally come for the 1,400 garment workers who died in the 2013 building collapse and fire at Rana Plaza. A Dhaka court framed charges against 18 people yesterday for knowingly violating building codes. While the speed of movement, in this case, has been painfully slow, at least they’re making progress.

At least one politician has changed his attitude following Sunday’s shooting. Utah’s Lieutenant Governor, Spencer Cox, apologized to the LGBT community in a speech he made on Monday. He not only apologized for his own attitude, but he challenged other straight people as well:

How did you feel when you heard that 49 people had been gunned down by a self-proclaimed terrorist? That’s the easy question. Here is the hard one: Did that feeling change when you found out the shooting was at a gay bar at 2 am in the morning? If that feeling changed, then we are doing something wrong.

As always, whenever another mass shooting takes place, the talking heads made the rounds on news shows making the same arguments for and against gun control that they’ve been making the past 30 years. Yesterday, someone finally took decisive action. Senator Chris Murphy of Connecticut filibustered an appropriations bill with demands for tighter gun control legislation. It was a gutsy move, but quickly enough he was joined by 37 other senators and the filibustered continued until GOP leadership finally backed down and agreed to consider new gun control legislation. Is this a solution? No, but it is the first decisive step we’ve seen toward one.

So, there’s some full to balance out the empty.

Still, I’m having problems finding that positive attitude this morning. There have been so many negative things happen this week that I’m not sure it’s reasonable to expect the week to end balanced. Perhaps this is one of those times we have to accept that the glass really is half empty.

And be thankful we still have a glass.

Art / Photography / PotD

Tossing Kat In The Water

June 15, 2016

Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. —Lao Tzu

charles i. letbetter - tossing Kat in the water

Cats don’t normally like water and Kat isn’t especially fond of it either, but modeling’s supposed to be fun, isn’t it?

I think I mentioned something yesterday about going to McCormick’s Creek State Park and playing in the water. We showed you pictures of the waterfalls, the kids frolicking, and one very cool old man. I know most of you missed those pictures, so you can look at those later by clicking here.

What we showed yesterday wasn’t the only set of pictures we took, though. I was looking through the files last week and noticed that Kat hadn’t been in front of the camera at all this year. Here we are in June and not once have we managed to get her to sit even for a light test. What photographer doesn’t take pictures of his own fiancè? We needed to fix this problem quickly.

So, as we were packing clothes for the kids, I tossed a swimsuit at Kat and suggested, “Why don’t you toss this under your clothes and we can get some pictures of you in the water while we’re there?”

She laughed.

Okay, so maybe the swimsuit was just a little inappropriate and revealing to wear in a place likely populated by children other than our own. Our kids don’t even notice when Kat is looking hot; they’re rather used to that. Other people’s kids, though, might have wondered where the rest of her swimsuit was.

Kat knows how much it means for me to have pictures of her, though. She found an acceptable substitute and off we went.

Most anyone who has shot outdoors with me knows that I typically carry two non-camera related items in my camera bag: duct tape and petroleum jelly. Uses for the duct tape are innumerable; one never knows when they might need to fix something, fasten something, or patch a hole. The petroleum jelly is a bit more specific, though. I use it not only because it causes water to bead on the skin, but because it acts as an insulator against the cold. For some stupid reason, I left the petroleum jelly sitting on my desk.

Have you ever tried standing in cold water? Have you ever tried looking any way other than horrified as hundreds of gallons of cold water came crashing down onto your head? Have you ever tried to sit on a rock while your entire body is trembling from the cold and attempt to look sexy?

Those are the things I asked Kat to do. The task wouldn’t have been nearly as daunting if I’d brought the petroleum jelly. Kat would have barely noticed the temperature of the water at all. I left the petroleum jelly sitting on my desk, though. There was no protection from the cold. She did the whole shoot anyway. She gave me a mean look more than a few times but she did them and the resulting pictures are perhaps the strongest set she’s done since we first met.

One of the challenges of shooting in the water like this is that in order to get that silky look to the waterfall, I need a slow shutter speed. A slow shutter speed with a model means that she has to take a pose and not move. Go ahead and try to not move while standing in cold water, especially after your body is completely wet. Oh, and add a nice breeze on top of that. A bit of wind feels good when you’re warm and dry, not as much when you’re wet and cold. Kat had to call on the discipline instilled by her Marine Corp training to keep getting in that water and holding poses for several seconds at a time, not flinching, until I got the picture I needed.

Have I mentioned that I have an awesome fiancé who loves me very much?

Did you know that waterproof mascara doesn’t necessarily hold when being assaulted by hundreds of gallons of water?

The challenges to this shoot were considerable. Not only was the water cold, but Kat still had to keep an eye on the kids and keep an eye out for anyone who might cause problems and help me avoid falling on the slick rocks. I’ve not even tried standing in water to shoot for the past three years. We had to exercise much more caution than was previously normal.

What ultimately matters, though, are the pictures and I think we captured some great ones, despite the cold water. I like having Kat in front of the camera. Next time, though, I’m bringing the petroleum jelly.

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Nature / Photography / pop culture

Waterfalls And Sunshine

June 14, 2016

Many a calm river begins as a turbulent waterfalls, yet none hurtles and foams all the way to the sea. —Mikhail Lermontov

charles i. letbetter - waterfalls and sunshine

We returned last week to one of my favorite places in Indiana and found it glorious.

For eleven years these waterfalls have haunted my memories.

When I first moved to Indiana and was looking for places to shoot, McCormick’s Creek State Park was one of the first places recommended. I wasn’t expecting too much in the way of excitement because, after all, this is Indiana; the state’s not exactly well-known for its dramatic topographical variances. When I first experienced the waterfall, though, I was hooked. I bought an annual pass and made the trek down there two, sometimes three times a week. I would arrive at 7:00 AM, right as the gate opened, shoot through the early morning sunlight making its way down the canyon, and be eating breakfast in Bloomington before 10.

Some of the pictures we took here that summer are still among my favorites. Not only are the waterfalls beautiful, but the creek itself meanders softly through the canyon giving home to incredible amounts of wildlife, if one take a moment to explore. Small snails cling to the rocks. Minnows dart back and forth in the shallow waters. Uniquely colored birds fly through the trees. As a photographer, the choices of scenery and background are never-ending. One could shoot here for innumerable days without capturing the same scene twice.

Sadly, after that first summer, my circumstances took a severe change and I wasn’t able to go back. Even when I did have access to a vehicle and sufficient time, I knew I didn’t dare make the trip alone anymore. I’m not as sure-footed at clambering over the rocks as I once was. Excuses were easy enough to find.

Until this past week, that is, when I decided to put excuses aside and take the family on a day trip. We don’t get many chances to wander now that Kat’s in school full-time, but we had an opening and took advantage of it. Even as we packed the water and snacks we would need for the trip, though, I wondered if everything would still be the way I remembered it. Would the stairs down to the waterfalls still be steep? Would the waterfalls still be as broad or would natural erosion have taken a toll? Would the pool below the waterfalls be too deep or too crowded for the kids to enjoy? Would the creek itself be as I remember?

The drive to McCormick’s Creek is only about an hour South of Indianapolis. There are three different totally reasonable routes to take, but I suggest using state highway 67 South through Mooresville, Friendswood, and Paragon. The drive is much more quiet and serene, void of the traffic on Interstate 70 and without the maddening construction on state highway 37. Note: You’ll want to use Google Maps, not Bing, for directions. Bing won’t give you highway 67 as an option.

Since we were taking the kids, we didn’t arrive as early as I might have wanted for my own purposes. Putting kids in the car at 6:00 AM would have created challenges we didn’t need. So, we didn’t arrive until nearly 11:30. The sun was high, which normally makes for horrendous photographs, except that the canyon prevents much direct sunlight from getting through. As the light bounces off the bare limestone, the light is diffused so that there is almost always a good angle for taking pictures.

The kids, of course, loved the waterfalls and were thrilled that we actually let them get into the water (Kat tends to be a bit cautious). Little man tried climbing the falls while Tippy enjoyed sliding down the rocks. While there, we met an old hippy with dreadlocks in both his hair and his beard, a couple with a six-month-old great dane puppy, and plenty of other families out exploring. I have always been pleased that McCormick’s Creek is not one of those places where a constant presence of park rangers is necessary to prevent trouble. People who come here do so to relax, not act like assholes.

Of course, I have pictures and what we’re showing you today is just the first set. I made Kat take a swimsuit and do the model thing, but we’ll save those pictures for tomorrow. These focus more on the kids and the natural surroundings of the waterfalls. Peaceful. Quiet. I processed most in black and white because I feel the look is more dramatic, but I did keep a couple of images in color; one because Kat requested such, and the other because the bright orange of Little Man’s shirt against the dark rock of the waterfalls was too powerful to mute.

We’ll be returning to McCormick’s Creek a couple of times in the next few weeks. One will be with a friend I’ve not seen in a while, and the other will be to camp for the weekend with extended family. Both will give us ample opportunity to explore even more and capture additional pictures and different times of the day.

For now, we hope you enjoy these and that they’ll encourage you to get out, stop making excuses, and resuscitate your imagination with waterfalls and sunshine.

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Personal / PotD

She Calls Me Daddy

June 12, 2016

The father of a daughter is nothing but a high-class hostage. A father turns a stony face to his sons, berates them, shakes his antlers, paws the ground, snorts, runs them off into the underbrush, but when his daughter puts her arm over his shoulder and says, ‘Daddy, I need to ask you something,’ he is a pat of butter in a hot frying pan. —Garrison Keillor

The universe gave me a daughter and none of us, Daddy, daughter, nor the universe are going to be the same

Father’s Day can sometimes be a bit rough. I have three boys but haven’t lived with any of them for the past 11 years. I hold a lot of well-deserved guilt for not being there at times they really needed me, when the decisions were hard, when the circumstances were impossible to understand. There have been times they challenged whether I loved them. My record is far from perfect but I’m still proud of the young men they’ve become.

But then, I have two more. Biologically, I had absolutely nothing to do with their appearance on the planet. I thought I was done having kids 18 years ago. The universe intervened, however. Now, Kat regularly looks over at me, usually with one or the other of them in my lap, and reminds me, “They’re yours.”

Being a parent of young ones at an age where my peers are having grandchildren is challenging. I can’t run races or get down in the floor and wrestle like I did with my boys. They’re getting the well-used version of a Daddy and I sometimes wonder if that’s not cheating them a bit. Kat is quick to remind me, though, they chose me. The decision to call me Daddy was totally theirs.

Actually, the whole “Daddy” thing was a point of great concern. Tippy was two and Little Man had just turned four when I met Kat. They saw their bio-dad for what may be the last time shortly after Tippy turned three, and that wasn’t an especially pleasant visit. Tipster has no memory of the trip at all. The portion Little Man remembers is not positive. We were very concerned, though, that the decision of what to call me be theirs and no one else’s.

This took some time. Calling me by my name was easy. I was just another friend except that I never went away. Ever. There were times that made discipline difficult. Little Man would come back with “You’re not my Dad,” and I’d have to agree with him. More than once he asked when they were going to take me back home. But that hole was there in their lives and slowly, quietly, despite all the yelling and slammed doors, they’ve let me fill that space.

Getting along with Little Man has been one thing, but learning to deal with a little girl is a whole new experience. I’ve not had one of these before, and she is definitely a very different personality from her brother. Her imagination is off the charts. She sings herself to sleep at night. The more tired she is, the more she giggles. She loves to be tickled, loves having books read to her, and more than anything, she loves sitting in my lap.

She is the spitting image of her Mommy. Put pictures of her, Kat, and her grandmother next to each other and you can only tell the difference by the age of the photos. She’s like her mother in other ways, too, that don’t necessarily work when one is six. She’s stubborn. She wants to do things her own way. She’s confident and doesn’t need you to tell her what to do. She can be defiant in the face of authority and she’s not taking crap off of anyone, especially her brother. Those will all eventually become admirable traits as she becomes a young woman but right now, and especially at bedtime, we often wish she were a little more compliant.

It took a while for Tippy to get used to me. When I first moved in, she was still sleeping in her crib at night and needed help getting out of the morning. Several months passed before she would let anyone but Mommy be that morning person. She didn’t want to hold my hand. She clung tightly to Mommy, which might have been endearing except for those moments when Mommy’s hands were already full. She regarded me with caution for the first year and more. That was okay. We knew that both kids would have to adjust at their own pace.

When we noticed her changing, though, was when both she and Kat started school last fall. At school, they would talk about families and other kids had a Daddy. Then, when she came home from school, I was the only one here. Mommy usually wouldn’t get home until well after she was in bed for the night. I helped with her homework, made sure she had clean clothes, let her take long baths with her toys, and tucked her in for the night. Slowly, she would occasionally call me Daddy, but usually, it was quiet. You could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

After the kids changed schools, we noticed a difference. She was more confident in how she referred to me, not only around her peers, but anywhere, with anyone. If someone would ask her who I was, she would grin mischievously and say, “Oh, that’s just my Daddy.”

The biggest confirmation came just this past week. Kindergarten graduation. The event was held mid-morning, when a lot of parents couldn’t be there, including Tippy’s Mommy. The Tipster was incredibly excited, though. She woke up bouncing with anticipation that morning. As I put her on the school bus, I reminded her I would be there. I wasn’t sure how she would respond. During the event, she would flash me an occasional smile, but was being very careful to follow the instructions her teacher had given. When they called her name, I was the only one who yelled for her, and she looked more perturbed than pleased.

After the event, I went to her room fully expecting to have to remind her that Mommy was at school. All the other kids seemed to have their entire extended families there, some with balloons and stuffed animals. How could I possibly compete with that? Then, as I walk into the classroom, Tippy looks up, her face brightens, and she screams, “DADDY!!!” at the top of her lungs and she runs into my arms. The hugs were big. She kissed all over my face. She showed me her diploma then had to show me her entire classroom.

If there was any question remaining, that moment cleared up the doubt. I have a daughter. We call her Tippy. She calls me Daddy.

Happy Fathers Day.

Current Issues / Nature / PotD

Feeling The Heat

June 10, 2016

I don’t always wear underwear. When I’m in the heat, especially, I can’t wear it. Like, if I’m wearing a flower dress, why do I have to wear underwear? —Naomi Campbell

The heat is on. The argument for wearing clothes is strained. Caution is advised

My alarm went off, as always, at 4:00 AM this morning. I groaned quietly, kissed the back of Kat’s neck and got out of bed, dressing in the dark so as to not bother anyone.

The dog was waiting, as always. He hears the alarm, too, and is anxious for me to put on my shoes and snap the leash to his harness. He’s been here a month, but our morning walks are already a matter of ritual. He shakes himself and we’re ready to go.

I check the weather forecast, as always. 70 degrees. 30% chance of isolated thunderstorms after 7 this morning. Shit. I have 120 pounds of concrete mix sitting in the yard. I’ll have to move that when we get back.

We start our walk with Belvedere’s nose to the ground, as always. The neighbor’s security light pops on as we pass but the dog doesn’t flinch. He’s more interested in the scent of a feral cat that roams the area each night. The cat can’t be too big; we see its muddy paw prints on the car each morning. In the distant, lightening flashes. We probably won’t actually get any rain at our house. Most weather goes around us.

This is summer, and, as always, we’re beginning to feel the heat. 92 is the forecasted high today, and as someone who grew up in Oklahoma, my instinctive reaction is to think, “Aw, that ain’t nothing but good swimming weather.” But 92 when I was a kid wasn’t the same as 92 is now. The only air pollution we had to worry about then was the fragrance that came from the feedlot when the wind was out of the South. Heat and humidity were a thing, but rarely did they actually kill anyone.

Things are different now. Heat is the enemy. Now, the National Weather Service issues air quality warnings. I saw the orange band across the top of the forecast early and knew what it had to be. Here’s this morning’s statement (the caps are normal for NWS statements; they’re not actually shouting at you):

INZ047-110000-
MARION-
INCLUDING THE CITY OF...INDIANAPOLIS
256 PM EDT THU JUN 9 2016

...A KNOZONE ACTION DAY HAS BEEN DECLARED...

THE OFFICIALS AT THE OFFICE OF SUSTAINABILITY FOR THE CITY OF
INDIANAPOLIS HAVE CALLED FOR A KNOZONE ACTION DAY ON FRIDAY...JUNE
10...FOR THE FOLLOWING INDIANA COUNTIES...

MARION.

A KNOZONE ACTION DAY MEANS THAT A COMBINATION OF THE HIGH
TEMPERATURES...LIGHT WINDS AND OTHER FACTORS ARE EXPECTED TO
PRODUCE CONDITIONS WHERE HIGH LEVELS OF OZONE EMISSIONS MAY
EXCEED FEDERALLY MANDATED STANDARDS.

HERE ARE SOME RECOMMENDED ACTIONS THAT THE PUBLIC CAN TAKE TO REDUCE
OZONE FORMING EMISSIONS.

RIDE THE BUS INSTEAD OF TAKING YOUR CAR.
CAR-POOL WITH A FRIEND OR CO-WORKER.
REDUCE THE AMOUNT OF TIME SPENT IN DRIVE THRU LANES.
POSTPONE FILLING OR TOPPING OFF YOUR GAS TANK UNTIL AFTER DARK.
PUT OFF MOWING YOUR LAWN UNTIL AFTER 600 PM.

All this because of a little heat. What wasn’t a big deal 40 or 50 years ago is monumental now. When we were kids, we could go out and play all day, every day, and the only time our parents worried about the weather affecting us adversely was when there were tornadoes in the area. Today, however, we’ll be taking specific action to protect the kids from harm: we’re leaving the county and heading for a quiet state park. They’ll be able to play outside without having to worry about breathing bad air.

Tomorrow is a different story, though. The anticipated high temperature for tomorrow is 96°F which means NWS will almost certainly release another air quality warning, but tomorrow is the annual Pride parade. We can’t miss that, for a number of reasons. That means we’ll have to make some adjustments to make sure the experience is safe and enjoyable for the kids. Come to think of it, you would probably do well to follow some of the same suggestions for yourself.

When feeling the heat, here are some do’s and don’ts for staying alive:

DO drink plenty of water. We’ll be carrying 8 oz bottles of the stuff to keep everyone hydrated. Hydration is always an issue in the heat, but under these conditions it is critical.
DON’T drink only soda, coffee or alcohol, all of which dehydrate the body. Sure, they’re tasty, but they’ll leave you panting along the side of the road.
DO wear clothing that is light textured if you’re in a place where clothing is required. This is a great time to show off your swimsuit.
DON’T forget the sunscreen. Please. Always. Skin cancer is no joke and incidents have risen dramatically in the past 20 years. The shine makes your body look good, anyway.
DO eat a lot of fresh fruit. Strawberries, peaches, apples, and bananas are what we’re having for breakfast.
DON’T eat a lot of processed sugars. That stuff is bad for you any day, but in the heat, they zap your strength and can make you violently ill. Stay away.
DO plan activities at either end of the day. Before 10 AM and after 6 PM are best.
DON’T expose you or anyone else (including pets) to extreme heat conditions any longer than absolutely necessary.
DO take your pets out for short, limited walks.
DON’T leave your pets tethered outside, even if they have shelter and water. The heat affects them even more than it does us.

I’m not one to jump on an alarmist bandwagon, but this heat is serious business. Already, the Best Protected Great Barrier Reef Corals Are Now Dead, and there’s a ’99 Percent Chance’ 2016 Will Be Hottest Year on record. The easy-going summers of the past, where we could just sit in the shade and drink lemonade without a care in the world are, unfortunately, non-existent for anyone who lives in a city of any size. I’m not sure those out in the country are as safe as they once were.

Summer is here. We’re going to feel some heat and, like it or not, we can’t just run around naked all over the place. Take some precautions. Use some common sense. There’s still plenty of fun to be had, we just have to be careful about when and how we do it.

PotD / Social Commentary

The Sexy Party Is Real

June 9, 2016

Warning: Explicit Content

In life, you have people that love to party. That’s me. People that love God. That’s me. People that love sex. That’s me. People that love people. That’s me. And people that make mistakes. That’s me also. —R. Kelly

The sexy party you dreamed about is real, but chances are you’re not invited

Update: The response to our application took a bit more than the 48 hours advertised, but late last evening the email finally came through:

VETTING APPROVED

Congratulations, (Username). Your account has been successfully vetted!

Your subscription has been updated, and you can log in by going to http://litterbox.killingkittens.com/(deleted for privacy)

We are quite surprised! We’re definitely not members of high society and if they were checking our bank balance they were almost certainly disappointed. This makes us wonder exactly what their criteria for membership are? If we can get approved I wouldn’t expect the bar to be set too terribly high. Although, at the same time, it may simply be that they don’t have many members from this part of the country and are looking to grow. That would rather make sense to some degree, I suppose.

What I do know is that there were several hits on this website (particularly this story) from London and New York shortly after it was published. I’m guessing that they looked at our photography page as well, though both of our personal pages are locked down and private. Did they talk to our friends? Did they confirm employment? Did they do any kind of background check? If so, no one has told us.

So, we’ll continue and see what happens. Should we find out more, we will most certainly let you know!

Here’s the original story:

Yes, that’s really explicit.

No, it’s not who you think it is.

No, it’s not them, either (whoever “them” may be). Just stop trying to guess. Identity is irrelevant in this situation. The picture is an illustration, an attempt to get your attention, as if the term “sexy party” didn’t have it already. The picture also defines the level of party we’re talking about. This gets deep so hold on and try to enjoy the ride.

Back in 1990, before many of you were even old enough to think of such things, Stanley Kubrick captured the world’s attention when he set the movie Eyes Wide Shut around an underground community of sensual desire involving luscious and lavish masked sex parties. That theme has been used and re-used hundreds if not thousands of times since then for masked, sexy parties, especially at night clubs in large cities where women wearing lingerie out for the night isn’t really all that big a deal.

If you tell me that you’ve not thought at least once about what it would be like to attend such a party, I’ll call you a liar. We all have. And I’ve even heard tell of a few instances where someone tried to re-create that masked party theme, but they were never as lavish (a warehouse as the location? C’mon …) and never quite as sexy (is there anyone here not using Viagra?) as one might imagine. Sexy parties the magnitude of those seen in Kubrick’s movie are so rare, so difficult to produce, that we’ve often wondered if they actually exist at all.

Apparently, they do. We just live in the wrong place to be invited to the party.

In the deluge of articles being thrown at me, I came across this one a couple of weeks ago with the intriguing headline: The Roving Sexy Party Coming To The Hamptons This Summer. Okay, a headline like that is going to get my attention every time. Although, there is a bit of immediate disappointment in that it mentions the Hamptons, that lovely summer homestead of the super-rich to which we mere mortals are not allowed access. Everything is gated. Everything is by invitation only. The Hamptons are not for we mortals. I’m not sure even Bernie Sanders can get in here.

What’s happening, though, is a coming to America of a British sex party concept that apparently has been working quite well across the pond. We’ve always suspected that those uptight Brits were a bit more cheeky than they let on and it would seem now that we have the proof.

The sponsoring organization has a rather morbid name, though, Killing Kittens certainly doesn’t sound sexy, and if it’s a party it doesn’t sound like the kind that is legal in the United States. But then, perhaps that’s part of the cover. Who would think to go looking for an underground event with a name that invokes feline homicide? The actual events, though, do not involve the harming of any animals, except for maybe your boyfriend.

When I went searching for more information about these parties (because, you know, journalistic curiosity and all that) I found the explanation on their Facebook page (yeah, that’s really underground) more helpful than anything on their website. It reads, in part:

Killing Kittens was launched in 2005 to both address and grow the demand from young, attractive, charismatic couples and single girls for decadent, hedonistic, female focused parties.

Killing Kittens parties create an environment for people, especially girls, to explore their sexuality in a daring yet safe and controlled environment without the seediness associated with the traditional ‘scene’. The parties are held at intriguing and glamorous international locations; from a New York penthouse to a yacht in St. Tropez. They have attracted the rich and famous and generated immense media excitement as being at the centre of the world’s newest and coolest underground party scene. Marie Claire declared that Killing Kittens has now become synonymous with the world’s ‘sexual elite’.

Again, I’m not so convinced about this whole “underground” thing if Out, The Cut, and Marie Claire all know about it. Those are not exactly low-circulation rags, there, ya’ know? If everyone knows about the parties, are they still “underground?”

What’s interesting, and likely most attractive about the Killing Kittens parties is that they are female-focused. In fact, the whole company is owned by one Emma Sayle, a British socialite who just happened to go to the same school as the Duchess of Cambridge. This gives the parties a very different edge from the pictures Kubrick planted in our minds. With the women in control, the party isn’t as likely to be as much of a sausage-fest, but it is also likely to be a bit more lively as women, especially those in the Hamptons, are still enamored with the S&M flurry started with Fifty Shades of Grey and now continued, so I’m told, with the HBO series Billionaire (I understand the 12th episode is where things get spicy). The parties are apparently popular among “pussy whisperers,” that is, women who have same gender flings just for the summer.

Yeah, let’s make that phrase go viral. Go ahead.

My curiosity not yet satiated (is it ever?), I visited the Killing Kittens website to see just how filthy rich one had to be to even join their little club. Turns out, it’s not all that expensive, at least not up front. Their basic membership is $15 (US) a month. They do have a free option, but that doesn’t include party invitations and without the party invitations what’s the point? They also offer a special designation for those over 45, if one wishes to make that disclosure. That doesn’t seem all that exclusive, does it?

So, I went ahead and signed us up for a couples membership just to see what would happen. The first step was rather straight-forward personal information like one would find on any dating site: age, height, body type, religious preference, drinking, smoking, etc. They encourage uploading pictures for the vetting process and promise that those pictures will be kept private. Nothing unusual, nothing overtly erotic, and nothing expressly limiting that would have me bailing out and running in fear of my life. Yet.

I’m betting that the vetting process will somehow eliminate us from consideration. Hell, this article is likely to eliminate us from consideration; it’s not like I’m hiding what I write. Still, the more insight we can get into this allegedly underground playground for the super-rich, the more we can stoke our own dreams of perhaps one day being elite enough to attend one of these oh-so-exclusive parties.

Not that we would know what to do once we got there. Nope, not us. Not a clue. Totally innocent here. Totally. This is just journalistic curiosity. I promise.

Or maybe we just have our own party. I have ice cream. Vanilla.

Art / Current Issues / Experimental / Original Style / PotD

Naked Thoughts While Walking The Dog

June 5, 2016

I have no trouble with my enemies. I can take care of my enemies in a fight. But my friends, my goddamned friends, they’re the ones who keep me walking the floor at nights! —Warren G. Harding

Walking the dog of the morning gives some time for quiet contemplation before life is cluttered by the day

Random. Thoughts I have while walking the dog each morning are just that: random. Naked. I don’t look at any news or check any headlines before we head out the door. I do put on pants, just in case I’m not the only lunatic up at 4:00 in the morning (and I’m not), but other than that I’m unencumbered; just the dog and I out for a stroll. He’s interested in finding a fire hydrant where he can pee (he has a favorite). I’m interested in sorting through my dreams and the thoughts that linger from the previous day.

Sunday morning is a great time for that manner of contemplation. None of the thoughts are necessarily huge or impressive in any way. Just thoughts that are worth thinking for a moment, and then we let them slip back into the quiet places of our brain until we might actually need them in conversation. These are the moments where we work out for ourselves exactly how we feel about a topic, the hows and the whys and the justifications. Walking the dog is good for the brain that way.

Having a dog to walk is important, though. When people see someone, especially a man dressed in dark clothes, out walking by himself in the middle of the night they tend to make negative assumptions. One evening, a couple of weeks after I graduated from college, I was walking through my neighborhood at dusk and a man comes rushing out of his house wanting to know what I was stalking him and his wife. I wasn’t, of course. But to claim otherwise was apparently calling his wife a liar. I could have used a dog right then. No one questions what you’re doing when you are walking a dog.

One of the things that popped into my mind this morning was a couple of pictures posted by a friend who now lives in California. She grew up here in Indy, was quite a free spirit, and posed for me on a few occasions. The pictures were of her and her mate, a British chap, out frolicking about in the California forests completely naked. The pictures posted, of course, managed to meet social media requirements, covering up nipples and such. I’m sure there are more revealing photos, though. On one hand, I’m proud of the two of them for taking those pictures. They didn’t hide their faces or do anything to deny that it was them in the photos. They owned their nudity and were happy in a way I wish everyone could be happy. At the same time, I was a little jealous that I wasn’t the one taking those pictures. I couldn’t be. I’m not in California. There aren’t enough people in Indiana who feel that free. They’ve all moved out West, or so it seems.

We went to a wedding last night. We took the kids along. The couple was beautiful. The mix of religious cultures was beautiful. The ceremony appropriately reflected who they are. Just before the ceremony was about to start, though, it rained. Stormed, actually, and quite seriously at that. The ceremony was held under a tent and most guests had already taken their seats. The tents didn’t have sides. My seat was along the edge. I spent the evening with my right pants leg completely soaked by the rain. I find the experience amusing. The rest of me was quite dry and the dampness did not impede my ability to enjoy the ceremony. The storm helped keep the kids in check, too. There was just this awkward sloshing sound as I was walking across the lawn. It’s a uniqueness that will help me remember the event.

I miss the days when people would just randomly stop by for a few pictures. Maybe they had a new outfit. Maybe they were just bored. Maybe they were feeling adventurous and enjoyed getting naked in front of the camera. All of those were true at various times with different people. No one does that now, though. Speedway isn’t as popular as Broad Ripple. No one comes over here then stops and grabs a burger or pizza on their way home. No one can park at our house then walk down the street to meet friends and go out for the night. I’m not convenient anymore. But then, none of those friends who once dropped by do the Broad Ripple scene anymore. They’ve grown up. Some have kids. Several moved away. We get older and we stay home. We don’t drop by and visit anyone. We do Netflix and nap.

The lawn needs mowing again, but I won’t do it today. I’m not inclined to spend an hour walking back and forth across the yard. Maybe we’ll get started on the fence, though; get some holes dug.

The dog’s choices of places to pee is rather random. Sure, there’s the fire hydrant, but as his nose is sniffing along the ground there is apparently some randomly occurring fragrance that triggers his bladder, forcing him to stop and pee right now. Why does he choose to pee where he does? I suppose I could ask that same question about humans, though. I’ve actively avoided wading into that whole bathroom argument because I consider the very concept to be among the most ludicrous notions ever concocted. Talk about finding a solution for which there was no problem, North Carolina’s HB2 did just that. There wasn’t a problem. Now, everyone’s talking about where to go pee and that’s just about the most stupid waste of time I’ve ever seen. If you’re caught up in stopping people from peeing in certain places, you’re dumber than my hound dog.

However, I did discover this video last night. The music is incredible. My only problem is that I’ve never seen Harvey Fierstein without facial hair. I wasn’t prepared for that specific form of nakedness. His bare chin threw me for a loop. Mr. Fierstein wrote on his Facebook page:

So, you don’t like transgender people? Have the balls to honestly say it. Today’s bathroom controversy is fueled by the same bigots that sought to ban gay and lesbian teachers forty years ago. All these years later they’re still hiding behind the claim that they’re only protecting their children.

These discussions are great opportunities to educate and strengthen the bonds that make us all one human family. But when I see discussions on social media proposing a Men’s Room for adult males, a Ladies’ Room for adult females, a Little Girls’s Room for little girls, a little Boy’s Room for little boys and then another pair of bathrooms for Little Boys with a parent and Little Girls with a parent… Well, it’s time to take a step back and laugh at our own absurdity.

Hmmmm, is that Wayne Brady in drag as Lola? I’m never quite sure.

Enough walking for this morning. My legs hurt and the dog’s ready to eat. Enjoy your Sunday.

Art / Current Issues / Mythology / PotD

The Challenge Of Remembering Muhammad Ali

June 4, 2016

I know where I’m going and I know the truth, and I don’t have to be what you want me to be. I’m free to be what I want. —Muhammad Ali

Muhammad Ali was more than just a champ, he was The Greatest. Mere words are not enough.

On the off chance you missed it elsewhere, Muhammad Ali died last night. He was the headline on this morning’s New York Times. Again. You can read his obituary here; please do, someone worked hard to get it just right. There are obituaries is almost every publication available this morning. Ali was one of those people who transcended his sport. He wasn’t just a boxer. He wasn’t just the three-time champion. He wasn’t just the rebel. He was The Greatest, and that presents a problem right now.

Have you ever met a boxer? Not just someone who messes around in a local gym, but a real heavyweight? They’re unique individuals. I’ve met Evander Hollifield on a few occasions, even have pictures running around here of him at a Christmas party. He’s a big man, but he’s no Ali. I’ve literally run into Ken Norton (ouch, that hurt) once, but he’s definitely no Ali. I’ve seen George Foreman from across the room; he’s big and he’s mouthy, but he’s never been close to being Ali.

Are you beginning to see the problem? When Muhammad Ali first called himself The Greatest, it stuck not because it made good print copy, not because it was audacious, but because he was right, and everyone knew it whether they wanted to admit it or not. When one is The Greatest, it is difficult to write an obituary or memorial piece because there is no adequate comparison against which to judge him. No one did what he did, the way he did it, with the mouth, the rebellion, and the dominating force that was present both in and out of the ring. No one. How the hell can anyone encapsulate that into a single article?

The answer is: you can’t. Since the early 1960s, people have been trying to tell the story of this man born Cassius Marcellus Clay in Louisville, Kentucky. His filmography listing on IMDB is as long as anyone’s. The hundreds of thousands of newspaper articles are impossible to accurately index. Photos number in the millions. People have been trying to document the life of this man longer than I’ve been alive and no one has gotten a full, complete picture. It’s not going to happen because Ali was The Greatest and that’s just too much to every put into one box.

Much of what is written about Ali today is going to center around his boxing and the controversy surrounding both his unusual style and his public actions outside the ring. Those are the pieces most well-known in this very public life, and yes, they are important, but there’s so much more that is likely to be missed.

For example, did you know that Ali’s father was a painter? A damned good one, too. There are still a few places around Louisville where the work of Cassius Clay, Sr. can still be found. Had he come along some twenty or thirty years later, Clay, Sr. might have been a celebrated artist and his son might have taken a very different path through life. That wasn’t what the universe had planned, though. Clay, Sr. couldn’t even begin to get the attention of the established art world in the 1950s and that fueled an anger that influenced his son.

Ali was largely illiterate. The state of public education for blacks being what it was, he was never taught to read well and as a result, the rest of his academic experience was far from notable. Fortunately, he was extremely good at memorizing and would carefully re-write his speeches over and over and over until he had them cold. He could also be very spontaneous, even at a young age, with a wit that was sharp and biting, but often humorous as well. Again, had he come up at a different time, given a different educational experience, he might have been a great actor, but that didn’t happen either.

The champ took his religion seriously. When he converted from Christianity to Islam in 1964, a lot of people thought it was just a publicity stunt. Many others thought it was merely a dodge to avoid being drafted into the Vietnam situation. What few saw was that his conversion was real. While the path he took had some challenges and perhaps a misstep or two along the way, his was not merely an emotional conversion without any conscientious backing. He knew what he was doing. He sincerely believed the writings of the Quran and tried living according to its principles, even when the whole religion was under fire.

What may be most difficult to communicate, though, is that Muhammad Ali achieved all that he did, became what he was, triumphed over everything while being a black man in a white man’s world. Those of us who are not black, and perhaps even some who are, cannot begin to understand the enormity of the challenge that placed on Ali from the moment he was born. Even after winning the Olympic gold medal for boxing in 1960, there were still restaurants at which he couldn’t eat. Even in his hometown of Louisville, he was still referred to by that ugly n-word. Those of us who have never been in that situation, who have never endured racism at its most harsh and consistent and oppressive reality don’t have a clue what it takes to break away, to still climb to the very top, not just the top of boxing, but the top of American society and declare, “I am The Greatest.” Muhammad Ali did just that, though.

There have been a lot of famous people die already this year, many of them catching us by surprise. Ali’s death wasn’t a surprise, and it wasn’t something he feared. The announcement early yesterday afternoon that the champ was in the hospital on life support was a courteous way of letting media outlets know they needed to update their files and prepare their stories for publication. Ali didn’t have long, and less than 24 hours later he was gone. The challenge in writing about Ali’s death, though, isn’t that he was just famous. He didn’t just do that one thing way back in the 60s or 70s. Ali was more than just a 30-second memorial clip running on the morning news. Muhammad Ali was The Greatest. There’s never been anyone like him. There never will be ever again.

All the words, the pictures, and the videos are simply not enough. Muhammad Ali was larger-than-life in ways that can never be sufficiently captured or explained. The best we can do is try to tell our children and grandchildren that there once was a man who overcame everything the world could throw at him to become The Greatest.

His name was Muhammad Ali.

Current Issues / PotD

Protecting The Press

June 2, 2016

An able, disinterested, public-spirited press, with trained intelligence to know the right and courage to do it, can preserve that public virtue without which popular government is a sham and a mockery. —Joseph Pulitzer

charles i. letbetter - protecting the press

The power of the press to remain critical of a government and its leaders is the cornerstone of a free country

For the past several years, we’ve bemoaned the doom and gloom of a press that has seen its influence wane, its integrity challenged, and its profitability eroding. Critics rightly claim that what passes as journalism today is hardly a shadow of what it was a mere twenty years ago. Amidst the glut of twenty-four-hour cable and online streaming news, even the once powerful homes of Murrow, Cronkite, and Brinkley are now forced to battle for ratings. It is sad to see the Fourth Estate in such sad condition.

There is, however, an even worse situation on the horizon, one that’s been quietly building in smaller countries and now beginning to rear its ugly head at the top of powerful governments. While we as Americans have always honored the concept of a free press, we are seeing an increasing threat of violence against those who dare to report the truth.

I felt a chill yesterday morning when I read that Philippine president-elect Rodrigo Duterte said Tuesday that, “Just because you’re a journalist you are not exempted from assassination, if you’re a son of a bitch.” This comes after yet another reporter was shot dead in the streets of Manila last week. 174 journalists have been killed in the country over the past three decades. Duterte is one of those people who dislikes the press challenging him, which they have done often. His response is violent and unconscionable. Yet, he’s not alone.

Reporters Without Borders released their 2016 World Press Freedom Index a month ago and some of the numbers contained therein are extremely disconcerting:

Venezuela has had 16 journalists attacked, one editor imprisoned, and 22 media bosses are forbidden to leave the country.
In Russia, 70 journalists have been attacked, 81 arrested, and even social media users are being harassed.
Turkey prosecuted over 1000 people for “insulting the president,” arrested over 100 journalists, and have critical editors imprisoned.
Egypt has 23 journalists in prison where they are tortured and beaten on a regular basis.
Iran completely closed six media outlets and has 32 journalists in inhumane prisons.
China has over 100 journalists imprisoned, their families harassed, and many tortured.

We used to think, “that couldn’t happen here,” but it is. The foundations are being laid with the rhetoric of a major presidential candidate that is decidedly anti-press. The latest came Tuesday when he called ABC’s Tom Llamas, “a sleaze.” A few seconds later he sarcastically called CNN’s Jim Acosta, “a real beauty.” While the insults may seem harmless, they are indicative of a would-be leader who dislikes being criticized and considers himself above scrutiny. He has also booted Univision anchor Jorge Ramos from a press conference with a warning that he “holds grudges.” He’s called Fox News analyst Charles Krauthammer “totally overrated,” blasts reporters who challenge him on any issue, and perhaps most famously called Fox’s Megyn Kelly a “bimbo.”

While the temptation is to dismiss this nonsense as just that: nonsense, the fact is that such continual bashing of the press builds up a resentment toward all media that would attempt to investigate and report on the truth in any form other than what has been government-approved. This is no slippery slope. This is outright repression of the press and, should this horrible person actually be elected, we can only assume that press freedoms would further erode.

Former CBS News anchor Dan Rather, who himself took some pretty heavy criticism from the Nixon administration, took to Facebook last night and expressed what I think a lot of us are feeling. I don’t often quote large passages like this, but in this instance I feel his words are far superior to anything I might concoct, not to mention more authoritative. Here’s what he said:

I felt a shudder down my spine yesterday watching Donald Trump’s fusillade against the press. This is not a moment to be trifled with. It wasn’t his first tirade and it won’t be his last.

I was reminded of my college journalism professor, the late Hugh Cunningham, who would exhort his young charges in a thundering voice to “never let them scare you.” It was his most important lesson. One of Edward R. Murrow’s favorite words was “steady.” That also bears repeating today.

This is a dirty, nasty election. And it is only going to get worse. The reporters in the trenches need no lecture from me. They are walking through daily minefields, bracing themselves against winds of discontent whose effects no one can predict.

I know what it is like to sit in those seats and feel the scorn and even wrath of politicians of all political persuasions. Attacking the press for unfair coverage has long been a bipartisan pursuit. Sometimes it works. I am happy to say that more often it doesn’t. But Trump’s brand of vituperation is particularly personal and vicious. It carries with it the drumbeats of threatening violence. It cannot be left unanswered.

This is not about politics or policy. It’s about protecting our most cherished principles. The relationship between the press and the powerful they cover is by its very definition confrontational. That is how the Founding Fathers envisioned it, with noble clauses of protection enshrined in our Constitution.

Good journalism–the kind that matters–requires reporters who won’t back up, back down, back away or turn around when faced with efforts to intimidate them. It also requires owners and other bosses with guts, who stand by and for their reporters when the heat is on.

I still believe the pen is mightier than the sword. And in these conflicted and troubled times, we should reward the bravery of the men and women not afraid to ask the hard questions of everyone in power. Our nation’s future depends on it.

We, as citizens of a country that might best be described as tumultuous, are dependent upon the press. Despite the shortcomings of infotainment-based newscasts, we still need them to be our eyes and our ears within the halls of power. Governments that act secretly ultimately enslave their people. If we are to preserve our democracy, with must protect the freedom and sanctity of the press and all those who in any way participate in the reporting of the news.

Otherwise, we are every bit as bad as Russia, China, and the Philippines.

Update, June 5: The Republican candidate is ever more firm in his intent to destroy the rights of the press guaranteed by the first amendment. Should he win, anyone who says anything he doesn’t like would be a target. Don’t take my word for it. Watch the words come from his own filthy mouth.

Current Issues / PotD

Respect For Being Human

June 1, 2016

I’m not concerned with your liking or disliking me… All I ask is that you respect me as a human being. —Jackie Robinson

When it comes to listing one’s faults, those qualities that are the result of being human should never be among them

Humans are imperfect beings. One of the fears expressed in developing artificial intelligence is that as computers begin to realize just how inept and flawed we are they might consider us a blight on the planet that needs to be destroyed. There are days I tend to agree with the computers. We are selfish, mean, greedy, slothful, undependable, gluttonous, prideful, envious, disrespectful, racist, sexist, xenophobic, homophobic, thoughtless, and absolutely despicable.

Even worse, we attempt to mask our failings with false justifications such as, “I’m just keeping it real,” or, “He’s just speaking his mind,” or, “I’m only telling you for your own good,” and, “I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.” Each of those statements is designed to cover for the fact that preceding and/or following statements are likely to be rude, insensitive, inaccurate, distasteful, inappropriate and downright mean. We have conned ourselves into believing that if we label the trash coming out of our mouths as “truth” then no one can argue against it.

Bullshit.

One of the things that make being human respectable is that we can change. Once our flaws and weaknesses are pointed out to us, we have the ability to correct our actions, to make amends, and we even have the ability to apologize. Just because we make a mistake once doesn’t mean we have to continue making that error. We can learn and improve. It’s called progress.

Unfortunately, we too often fail to utilize that benefit. Instead of improving ourselves and working on our own flaws, we would rather pick on other people, attacking aspects of their humanity over which they have no control, such as body size, shape, skin color, gender, sexuality, language, nationality, and other hereditary factors which come with the package of being a unique being. Too often, we see what we don’t like in ourselves and project that dislike onto other people, saying and doing things that are totally unacceptable and, in some cases, even illegal.

The 14th amendment of the Constitution reads in part:

All persons born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the state wherein they reside. No state shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any state deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.

The most important, and frequently litigated, phrase from that section is “equal protection.” What this amendment ultimately means is that no citizen is to be discriminated against for any reason. There are no exceptions made, no allowances for differences of opinion. All citizens of the United States are to be treated equally. Period. While the amendment was adopted in 1868, though, we are still having an extreme amount of difficulty understanding that there are no exceptions to being equal.

One of the challenges is that many of the discriminatory and anti-human attitudes and activities that still persist are encoded in both tradition and the regulations we have made for ourselves. We have told ourselves that appearance matters, that certain traits are acceptable while others are not, and that some aspects of one’s personal being should be accentuated while others should be downplayed, hidden, and even surgically altered. In short, we fail to have respect for the fact that we are human.

We often refer to incidents of body-shaming. There have been plenty of such problems hitting the media lately. One of the most recent comes from actress Kate Beckinsale claiming that she was body-shamed by director Michael Bay while filming the 2001 movie Pearl Harbor. Ms. Beckinsale states:

I think he was baffled by me because my boobs weren’t bigger than my head, and I wasn’t blonde.

If we have made any improvements over the past 15 years, it may be that men, at least those who are in public on a regular basis, have been conditioned to, at the very least, keep their mouths shut when it comes to making statements about a woman’s physical appearance. When one does step out of line, the Internet, especially Twitter, is very quick to respond and call attention to any inappropriate statements.

Where we’ve not made such an improvement, however, is how women mistreat other women, and men actually seem to encourage their bad behavior. Catfights on reality television, which are considered ratings gold, only perpetuate a culture of disrespect and even physical violence between women and men do nothing but stand on the sidelines cheering them on! How do we not see how absolutely repulsive and repugnant our behavior is? Disparaging another person for aspects of simply being human is wrong on every conceivable level.

Some of you have been following our story from last week regarding the woman we named Lenore and the nipple shaming she had received from her employer. We then updated that story yesterday upon discovering that a second employee, whom we’ll call Julia, had received an even more harsh reprimand because of her Philippino accent. Never mind the fact that Julia has worked hard on her English and probably speaks better than 70% of the Americans who walk through the business doors. Because someone had complained, the owner of the business considered the accent a problem.

After we made that update, the owner of the business called Lenore and proceeded to thoroughly shame every aspect of her physical appearance, from her face to her footwear. Lenore was left in tears, totally humiliated for simply being human.

Earlier this morning, we received a message from Julia announcing that she was quitting her job. Lenore has not yet given official notice but plans to do the same later this morning.

We need to get it through our thick heads that we are all human and we need to show respect for those aspects of our humanity that are inherent to our being. We need to stop fat-shaming people who have thyroid and other physical conditions that make it impossible for them to safely lose weight. We need to stop beauty-shaming women who refuse to damage their skin by wearing an overabundance of makeup. We need to stop making fun of people’s language accents; at least they are bilingual, something the people doing the shaming can seldom say. We need to stop drawing attention to people’s body parts; whether breasts are big or small is totally irrelevant, as is their nipple size.

Showing respect for human beings means taking a look at things such as dress codes and eliminating gender bias and unnecessary restrictions that do not have a direct correlation to the duties being performed. We need to move beyond the Disney-induced notion that the less attractive a person is the more evil and unacceptable they must be. Disparaging people simply for being human is not something a progressive society can allow to continue.

Unfortunately, in far too many cases, we seem to be moving in the opposite direction. We actually have a leading contender for the office of President who routinely shames and makes fun of other people. His comments about women and minorities have been absolutely deplorable and represent the absolute worst aspects of being human. There is no excuse. There is no way to justify such deplorable behavior on the part of anyone.

While you may have a right to say what you wish, you have a responsibility to know when to keep your fucking mouth shut. If what you are about to say shows disrespect and/or discrimination toward another person, shut the fuck up! The circumstances are irrelevant. The media is irrelevant. Even the actions of the other person are irrelevant. You have a responsibility to show respect to all people, regardless of physical appearance, gender, race, national origin, sexuality, mental acuity, emotional stability, medical ailment, or physical challenges. If you fail to live up to that responsibility in any way, shape, or form, then you are WRONG.

Humans can be absolutely horrible creatures and do well to fear the presence of a more objective and intelligent being that might consider our faults justification for our demise. The only thing that stands in our defense is that we have the ability to change and to move beyond our shortcomings.

We need to get busy and start changing. Show respect for being human. Learn when to keep your mouth shut and start supporting other people rather than looking for ways to tear them down.

Art / Photography

All About The Pictures

May 31, 2016

The world today doesn’t make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do? —Pablo Picasso

May Day gives us an option: we can either dance, or we can protest. Which is likely to do us the most good?

Why do you come here? Is it for the pictures or for the articles? Most of the time I assume you’re here for the pictures, but according to our stats for this past month, more of you have been reading the articles. At least, that’s what we assume since it takes you longer before leaving the page. We’re also keenly aware that not many of you visit every day. We don’t blame you. Few people have time or inclination to visit any website every day. So, it’s just natural that you’re going to miss something cool from time to time.

We decided, since it’s the last day of the month and I’m so freaking tired of talking around political topics without getting too horribly involved, that we would give you a chance to catch up on some of the pictures you’ve missed. The is a bit one-sided since I’m not linking you to the articles at the same time. I thought about that option, but that would mean leaving this page or opening a new tab/window, any of which could become very confusing. So, this one is for all the people who come here for the photos. We’re posting all the main images from this month’s articles; not the header images and none of the images contained in a slide show.

In case one of the photos strikes your curiosity and you want to see exactly what we were talking about, you can go to our blog page and scroll down. We began the month with Dance or Protest and continued through topics ranging from moms to using god as an excuse to the absence of free will to more talk about nipples. Oh, and a BUNCH of people got upset about this post, but nearly ignored this one and this one, either of which are more important. That just shows how different our priorities are.

This is for all our photography fans. Thank you for visiting. We hope to see you more often in June.

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Just For Fun / PotD

Cooling Off Periods

May 28, 2016

The accepted definition of a serial killer is a person who kills at least three times with a cooling off period in between his murders. —Pat Brown

charles i. letbetter - cooling off period

If the summer is going to be as hot as forecast, we need to plan some cooling off periods

Climatologists and meteorologists have been warning us since April that 2016 is going to be the warmest year ever. There were a few days earlier this month when I would have challenged that forecast. We went through roughly a week where we had to fight with the kids to get them to wear coats on their way to the bus stop of the morning.

“But, it’s summer,” they would complain.

“But it’s 38 degrees,” we would respond.

That blip was apparently just a cooling off period, though. This summer may be a serial killer in the same sense as 2012 with daily temps over 100 and prolonged periods with no rain. We’re going to need some cooling off periods and we may have to create them ourselves.

No one should be sweating at 4:30 in the morning, but I was today. I took the dog out for our normal walk at 4:00 and by the time we returned my back was damp. Mind you, we don’t run, though the pup probably wouldn’t mind. We take a slow, casual stroll around the block to give him a chance to do his business while I think about what I’m going to write when we return. There’s usually a light breeze and the quiet solitude of being the only one on the street except for the paper boy (yeah, we still have one of those, but he drives a minivan now with one front blinker out). This morning had a breeze and was blissfully quiet (except for the helicopter making a quick pass over the speedway), but it was 74 degrees and humid as hell, if hell has humidity issues. Belvedere took straight to his water bowl upon returning while I took straight to the coffee pot. Cooling off is different for each of us. I am worried, though, to need a break so early in the morning isn’t a good sign.

Being hot on Memorial Day weekend isn’t that unusual, of course. In fact, the Indianapolis 500 isn’t the same experience without the sun bearing down into the snake pit, making sure everyone wakes up the next morning both hung over and sunburned. Race fans think cooling off is something one finds in a can of beer (bottles are not allowed), even though all they’re doing is dehydrating, which makes the hangover worse. Not having grown up here and not being a huge fan of watching cars go in circles, I have difficulty understanding the attraction to such inherent misery but, for many people, it’s a tradition they wouldn’t dream of missing no matter how hot it might get.

The rest of the summer is the greater challenge, though. Mother Nature can become a serial killer in July and August most any year. If we look back at 2012, the severe heat started in June and that seems to be the way things are shaping up for this year. Will she give us any cooling off periods? Better to not count on it. I think the more prudent move is to plan our own cooling off activities. Here are some of the considerations we’re entertaining at the moment:

Adult party in the kiddie pool. Our next door neighbor has a really nice above ground pool with a great deck and everything. He has regular parties over there (including one tonight) that are always fun and a bit rambunctious. The challenge is that pool takes a lot of his time to keep clean and at a temperature that doesn’t induce hypothermia. I don’t have that kind of time or energy. Instead, we have a kiddie pool. The little ones love it, but I’m thinking it can be great for cooling off our adult friends as well and we’re less likely to need a lifeguard. We can sit along the perimeter with our bare feet in the water while enjoying ice-cold adult beverages. Add some cool, fresh fruit and hors d’oeuvres and we’re set.
Naked mud photoshoot. We’ve not done one in a while. The pictures above were taken in 2010 and I don’t think I’ve done anything in the mud since. Two of the three young women have moved away, so we have opportunities here for new people to participate. Actually, this particular shoot was in April and turned off colder than we expected, especially when it came time to clean up. Rolling around in the mud is great for your skin and is very cooling for your body (which is why pigs like the mud as well). The pictures are always fun, sexy, and make all your friends jealous (not kidding).
Cook dinner on the grill. Air conditioners have to work hard enough during summers like this without adding to the challenge by heating up the whole house just to prepare a meal. Almost all your favorite foods can be prepared on the grill if you are willing to take a bit of time. Grilling is a great summertime tradition, anyway, so why not experiment with more than just hot dogs, hamburgers, chicken, and ribs? I’m planning on grilling brats and a beef roast tomorrow and am considering possibly grilling a lamb roast within the next week or two. The flavors are great, the heat stays outside, and everyone loves the food.
Explore new places to eat. Summer is, in my opinion, the best time to try new and different dining experiences. Food is more likely to be fresh and their attention to creating a pleasing environment usually means it won’t be too warm, even if the experience is al fresco. The menus also tend to reflect dishes more appropriate for summer: lighter cuts of meat, fewer heavy sauces, and plenty of fresh herbs. We tend to look for restaurants within easy walking distance of other activities good for cooling off, such as visiting a bookstore, art galleries, or live music. Sometimes we can even get lucky and find it all in one place!
Camping. The logic here is elementary: cities hold heat. A great way of cooling off, both physically and emotionally, is to “get the hell out of Dodge,” so to speak and go camping. Indiana is blessed with some really incredible state parks, most of which have cooling canyons and ravines and water that is appropriate for either swimming, wading, or boating. Tall, old trees provide plenty of shade and a gentle breeze, the kids have plenty of opportunities to explore, and if you plan well you might just find yourself relaxing a little bit. Granted, there are a number of uncontrollable variables with this option, and a good trip can go South in a hurry through no one’s fault. Still, the benefits outweigh the risks in most cases.

There’s nothing I can do about how hot this summer might be. Mother Nature doesn’t pay any attention when I gripe, so it’s just easier to find cooling off options that work regardless of the weather. We’ll survive this hottest year, you and me, and we may even have some fun in the process. We just need plenty of cooling off periods.

PotD / Status

Frustrating Frustrations

May 25, 2016

Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. —Martin Luther King, Jr.

charles i. letbetter - frustrating frustrations

I’m not one prone to endure frustrating situations in silence. If there’s a problem, people need to know.

Starting the day in a bad mood is rarely a good thing. Typically, when that happens it is the result of a bad dream and I can shake it, to some degree, by the time everyone else is awake. This morning, though, Kat and I were greeted by a frustrating situation before either of us were really ready to get up. Walking the dog helped tamp down my temper, but even that was frustrating as this nosey hound dog flushed a cat from its hiding spot and attempted to take off after it, nearly jerking his leash from my hand. Coffee helped, but I’m feeling a bit frustrated by that now as I look over and my cup is almost empty. I’ll have to stop and make more.

Much of what I find frustrating is beyond my control. Weather, for example. The forecast for each of the next five days holds some chance of rain and/or thunderstorms. We both know it won’t actually rain all those days, but as long as the barometric pressure remains below 30.12 In. I’m stuck trying to pretend that every joint in my body doesn’t hurt when I move. Not a damn thing I can do, legally, short of moving to Colorado. Even that doesn’t solve the problem but makes it more bearable.

I’m frustrated by my own errors. I sit here typing and there are too many times when my fingers and my mind are not in agreement as to exactly which version of they’re/there/their should be used or how a word is spelled. Such errors are frustrating because my head knows the correct usage and spelling. Somehow, though, the wrong synapses fire and my fingers get the wrong message and as I look back over a sentence I’ve just typed I find ridiculous errors that only a child should make. I expect better of myself. Of course, then I read an article from a major news outlet and find similar mistakes and don’t feel quite so bad.

Politics are frustrating. Continuously. This morning, it is the protests outside a political rally last night in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I’m frustrated not only because the two presumptive nominees are both total pieces of crap who will do our country significant harm, but because I fear the protests may lead to something worse. The situation is not aided by the fact that already disenfranchised people are being further disenfranchised by the candidates. Every time one of the candidates speak, people are given a reason to hate them all that much more. The system isn’t working and that’s frustrating.

Global unrest is beyond frustrating and, again, not a damn thing I can do about it. Talking with my son stationed in Okinawa brings frightening clarity to news reports of China conducting extended naval drills in the South China Sea. These are more than the standard defense preparedness drills in which every military organization participates. Such drills imply that more aggressive actions are being considered, if not planned. Add that to all the absolute nonsense in the Middle East and frustration is just the tip of the emotional iceberg.

The fact that it’s #NationalWineDay and I’m totally out of anything good is very frustrating. By “anything good” I mean anything that costs more than $5 a bottle. I’m not especially picky, though I do have an abundance of fruit that needs to be eaten so something white is probably a good choice. Of course, the closest liquor store doesn’t carry much wine. This is more of a beer neighborhood. That would be yet another point of frustration.

You should be getting the picture by now that there are plenty of frustrating things in my world, and I’m pretty sure there are plenty of frustrating things in your world. I could easily continue. Fencing we ordered has yet to arrive. Meetings that needed to be scheduled before the kids get out of school for the summer haven’t been. We don’t know what we’re doing with the kids all summer and we don’t have money for endless camps. The little brat across the street keeps stealing the Tipster’s tricycle from under the carport. And on and on and on.

Dealing with so much frustration could be fatal. My blood pressure is already high and not being sure what I’m doing for dinner tonight doesn’t help. I could have a heart attack or a stroke if I can’t find a set of pictures that I need. So, what do we do to combat these frustrations? Here’s my plan:

More coffee. We’re on our second pot this morning. I anticipate at least two more before Kat leaves for school. It’s just one of those days. Coffee keeps me from throwing things.
Nap with the dog. He’s a good hound dog who likes to sleep right on top of me. He has a good sense for knowing exactly when to lick my face.
Keep food easy. No elaborate preparations for anything today. At the moment, I’m favoring some form of salad for dinner. The kids love salad.
Avoid answering any messages that I already know are going to be upsetting. They are not critical to anyone’s life or death, so they will wait until I can respond without ripping someone’s head off their shoulders.
Stay the fuck off Facebook. I’m fortunate in that I can post to my page there without having to actually be on Facebook. What I see in my newsfeed too often makes me prone to acts of violence, such as slapping some sense into someone’s head. I don’t need that kind of trouble, so we’ll just stay away.
Smooches. Lots and lots of smooches, even if they have to be digital. Something tells me Kat’s guests wouldn’t especially like it if I walked onto the floor and starting smooching her up while she’s trying to color someone’s hair. So, we’ll keep our smooches digital. That is better than nothing.
Chocolate. We keep a stash hidden just for days like this.

The one other thing that could help isn’t immediately available: shooting a new set of nudes. I didn’t have the foresight to schedule anyone. If you’re reading this and want to volunteer, you know how to contact me. Just do it before Belvedere and I take our nap. We both get frustrated when someone interrupts our nap . One of us is likely to bite. Not saying which one.

We’ll get past this frustrating day. We almost always do. Just don’t do anything stupid and we should be fine.

PotD / science

Intercourse No More

May 21, 2016

Love is something far more than desire for sexual intercourse; it is the principal means of escape from the loneliness which afflicts most men and women throughout the greater part of their lives. —Bertrand Russell

Sexual intercourse may not be required for the perpetuation of the species, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be fun

Intercourse, that aspect of sexual relations performed primarily for and to the end of creating more little people with which to overpopulate the planet, is a problem. There are, globally, too many of us for the planet to sustain. Yet, due to uneven distribution of that population we, as Americans, don’t see the effects that come from having an excessive amount of copulation. We don’t see the overcrowding. We don’t see the poverty. We don’t see the disease. There’s a tremendous problem and, for the most part, we’re keeping our eyes shut.

Our children and grandchildren, however, may not have to deal with many of the consequences that come from our insatiable desire for sex. Earlier this week, we discussed how that, given that free will is a myth, we might one day be able to map the chemicals and neuron combinations that lead to inappropriate behaviors, such as murder, rape, and threat, and turn those off. Imagine how much better the world will be when we turn off that inclination and desire to kill people and do them harm.

Then, I was reading last night an article concerning how close we are to taking the sex out of procreation. With advances in in-vitro fertilization (IVF), not only is it safer to procreate without intercourse, the world’s longevity may soon require that to be the only means through which children are born. We may not have a choice.

Here’s the thing: procreating the old-fashion way of picking a mate and shagging until you’re purple carries with it a load of dangers. Not only is there the threat of sexually transmitted diseases, there’s an even greater likelihood that both of you are passing along genetic traits and tendencies that lead to even worse outcomes. The intercourse with which we are most familiar allows us to pass on to our children the entire gene structure of our ancestors, including their inclination toward male-pattern baldness, Tay-Sachs disease, cystic fibrosis, Huntington’s disease, and over 250 other potentially fatal conditions that can already easily be eliminated with IVF.

As research continues, we may eventually be able to completely eradicate genetic disease and quite possibly build immunities against other forms of illness as well. Within four or five generations, we could have a population that is stronger and healthier than we have ever been. The downside to that, though, is that we won’t die off as fast, making the overpopulation problem even more critical than it already is.

Somewhere within the next one hundred years, overpopulation cannot help but become a front line issue that politicians and governments can no longer ignore. You think government interference in your sex life is bad now, it could get a lot worse. Requiring children to be conceived only through IVF or some similar method does two things that are important for the future. First, it makes our offspring healthier, wiser, and safer. If we drop genetic diseases and eliminate the chemicals and synaptic combinations that lead to crime, we have the healthiest and safest society ever. Second, by using only IVF, the rate of procreation can be controlled. We can effectively bring population numbers down in the most heavily populated areas of the world, and boost them in those regions where underpopulation is also a problem.

At this point, we no longer need intercourse. In fact, one has to wonder if, among all the other impulses we filter from human existence, we might not eventually elimination sexual desire altogether. After all, how many really good science fiction movies have you seen where the characters showed any inclination toward boinking each other? We might see a passionate kiss here and there because we can’t imagine expressing deep emotion any other way, but that’s about all we get in the future: a kiss. That prospect would be rather sad and disappointing.

However, if we don’t need intercourse but can still have intercourse, what that does is open the door toward exploring sex simply as an elevated means of physical pleasure. If we no longer have to worry about disease or accidental pregnancies, we are free to explore and allow our sexual lives to be more open. Proclivities we have hidden behind the term “kink” would more likely be brought out into the open, become more socially acceptable, and explore means of physical pleasure from which we currently shy away. Not using sex to have babies has the potential to be very freeing.

With such developments, we could also see a significant shift in power control as gay and lesbian individuals, whose sexual activities don’t produce children already, become the preferred leadership around the world. This would follow a line of reasoning wherein those who can still procreate naturally are seen as a threat to world security. Same-gender sex could very well become the dominant form of sex, which just might make the world a more fabulous place to live.

Of course, there’s a downside. Stolen genetic material might be manipulated in such a way as to create a race of super villains the like of which no one at Marvel or DC Comics has ever imagined. I assume the appropriate response from some future grandchild of Tony Stark would be to create a combative race of superheroes to keep the rest of us safe. The world would likely never be perfect, but it would definitely be interesting.

For better or worse, all of these possibilities still lie reasonably well into the future. I’m not expecting to walk into my doctor’s office one day and be told, “Hey, we can cure you of all that old-age grumpiness.” I’m not sure I would want that to happen. But if they can make intercourse better, then sign us all up! The future could be very pleasurable.

Current Issues / Social Commentary / video

Fitness And Sex

May 19, 2016

Our growing softness, our increasing lack of physical fitness, is a menace to our security. —John F. Kennedy

You know you need to exercise, fitness just hasn’t been any fun, until now

Look at the quote above and who made it and we realize that, for the most part, the current American citizenry has never been in the best of shape, and despite numerous fitness crazes we’ve only gotten fatter. This is especially true if one lives in the Midwest, and if one lives in Indianapolis specifically, we’re more out of shape than anyone.

No, I’m not kidding. The American Fitness Index report was released this week and of the 50 US cities surveyed, Indianapolis comes in dead last. This is really bad. Look at this list of areas where we are failing:

Improvement Priority Areas (worse than 20% of target goal): • Lower percent meeting CDC aerobic activity guidelines • Lower percent meeting both CDC aerobic and strength activity guidelines • Lower percent consuming 2+ fruits per day • Lower percent consuming 3+ vegetables per day • Higher percent currently smoking • Higher percent obese • Lower percent in excellent or very good health • Higher percent of days when physical health was not good during the past 30 days • Higher percent of days when mental health was not good during the past 30 days • Higher percent with asthma • Higher percent with angina or coronary heart disease • Higher percent with diabetes • Lower percent of city land area as parkland • Fewer acres of parkland per capita • Lower percent using public transportation to work • Lower percent bicycling or walking to work • Lower Walk Score® • Lower percent of population within a 10 minute walk to a park • Fewer ball diamonds per capita • Fewer dog parks per capita • Fewer park playgrounds per capita • Fewer park units per capita • Fewer recreation centers per capita • Fewer tennis courts per capita • Lower park-related expenditures per capita

Just the size of that list should be enough for us to realize that we have a lot of work to do if we’re going to improve our situation. There is one measure not on the list, though, and it may be the one that gives us a chance to redeem our fat selves: sex. You’re reading that correctly, we might very well be able to sex ourselves into good health. Or, if not good health, at least something less likely to end up in the cardiac ward of your neighborhood hospital.

How is this possible, you ask? The folks behind your favorite porn site, PornHub, have created a new program with you in mind: Bangfit. No, I’m still not kidding. We’re totally wearing our serious face here. This is a legitimate fitness program, or, at least, an attempt at one. Here, watch this surprisingly safe-for-work video that explains the whole thing:

https://youtu.be/DUFjNiusLEw

Okay, so that’s at least the way the thing is supposed to work. I wouldn’t be posting this if I hadn’t checked the thing out for myself and, uhm, … it’s not working. This may be due to the fact that dozens of online magazines and sources reported about the site yesterday and their servers are now totally overloaded; that’s what I’m guessing. When I first tried accessing the web page, it timed out. When I tried about five minutes later, I got the site, but none of the links worked. When I pull up the site on my phone, it asks for a specific code to sync my phone, which is supposed to track my “activity,” with the computer, which is supposed to provide “instruction.” That doesn’t always happen, though. When the sight finally DID work, the lag between clicking a link and seeing any result was rather slow.

In theory, the premise should be correct. Sexual activity should provide serious fitness advantages, especially when done on a regular basis. I’m seeing some problems with the reality of the concept, though.

For there to be any fitness advantage, the sex is going to have to last more than five minutes. C’mon guys, you know damn good and well how rarely that happens. You’re going to have to work on your stamina.
No one is that regular with their sex lives, at least, not if you’re using a partner. The program has the single-person option, of course, which is also likely to be the most popular. But the real fitness comes from the couples play and very few couples manage to make daily sex a reality.
The product is still in beta, so there are still some glitches and not all features are present. For example, only three settings are currently offered: single, couple, and threesome (in your dreams).
The scoring system relies on your phone being attached to your hip in some way and measures your movement accordingly. So, depending on the position, one person might get more of a workout than the other. I also found I was able to adjust my fitness score simply by shaking my phone.
Really cheezy porn from Brazzers plays on your computer while you’re “exercising.” Maybe you like cheezy porn. I’m sure someone does … somewhere.

I do encourage you to give it a try for yourself. Who knows, maybe we can start having group “fitness” parties! Of course, there are the necessary caveats. Check with your doctor to see if your heart is healthy enough for sex (mine always looks at me funny when I ask that question). Be sure to stretch, hydrate, and all that other pre-workout stuff fitness people do. Don’t forget to use appropriate safeguards such as condoms and birth control unless you really, really want an excuse for never working out again.

Sex fitness really isn’t a bad idea, and may be just the thing to help Indianapolis get off its unhealthy and flabby ass. I see a lot of people clicking on the single user option, though. Out of shape people aren’t going to find workout partners for this program too easily. So, good luck with that. Let me know how that works out for you.

Current Issues / Mythology / PotD

If Puritans Were Treated Like Muslims

May 16, 2016

All too many Muslims fail to grasp Islam, which teaches one to be lenient towards others and to understand their value systems, knowing that these are tolerated by Islam as a religion. —Abdurrahman Wahid

What if Native Tribes were as xenophobic toward Puritans as Americans today are toward Muslims?

xen·o·pho·bi·a

[ˌzenəˈfōbēə, ˌzēnəˈfōbēə]

NOUN

intense or irrational dislike or fear of people from other countries.

America, we have a problem. The name of that problem is xenophobia. We can no longer ignore our problem. We can no longer tolerate the blatant and distasteful exhibition of our problem. We need to address this matter head on and put it to an end. Muslims are not inherently bad. Immigrants are not inherently bad. Believing that they are is not American and is not acceptable in an intelligent and progressive society.

I realize that these are tough words to start on a Monday morning, but we need the focus and determination that Mondays provide. Xenophobia has gotten out of control and needs to be stopped.

A prime example of xenophobia was made public in court documents last Friday when it was revealed that a North Carolina man (why is it always the Carolinas?) on a Southwest Airlines flight decided he needed to rip the hijab off a Muslim woman and scream, “Take it off! This is America!” The man was convicted of a misdemeanor hate crime, but this is just one small symptom of a wider disease.

After reading of this account, I began to wonder: What would have happened if native tribespeople had been xenophobic toward the Puritan separatists that landed at Plymouth in 1620? We know the Powhatan tribe that initially encountered these strangely dressed white people were suspicious, and they had good cause to be. European-based diseases left behind by Columbus and his crew had already made their way up the East coast from Florida and were wiping out millions of native peoples. In fact, some have wondered that, had the tribes not been decimated by disease, they might not have been willing to tolerate the newcomers at all.

When we think about it a bit, one can see similarities between how the Powhatan might have viewed the Puritans compared to how many people today view Muslims.

The Puritan separatists who followed William Bradford were refugees. They were considered traitors in England and unwelcome rabble rousers most everywhere else in Europe. Only the very liberal Holland offered to take them in, and Bradford found the social structure there too “ungodly” for his brand of religious extremism. They had nowhere else to go. Many Muslims know exactly how that feels.
Puritan women dressed funny, at least in the eyes of the Powhatan. Puritans were very concerned about modesty and a woman could be imprisoned, whipped, and even killed for dressing immodestly. Puritan women wore no fewer than ten different pieces of clothing and having too few petticoats or not covering her head in public was considered scandalous. For native peoples looking on wearing little more than deer skin, such costuming certainly seemed ridiculous. Similarly, few Americans today understand why Muslim women dress so modestly.
Puritan women had no rights; they were considered the property of their husbands. They could not own property or speak in church, and they dare not challenge their husbands. Native peoples who respected and elevated women found this treatment quite strange, just as modern Americans find the different relationships of some (not all) Muslims to be unusual.
Puritans had a strange religion that native peoples did not understand. Native tribes were spiritual to be sure, but they saw their deities as benevolent whereas the god these Puritans worshiped was fearful and angry. Likewise, large numbers of Americans view Islam and any other non-Christian religion as “strange” and some would even deny Muslims the right to worship openly.
Puritans didn’t speak the native language. Communication was difficult and challenging. Muslims and other immigrants struggle with English now. Is there really any difference?

The similarities between the Puritan separatists we know as Pilgrims and modern Muslims immigrating to these same shores is striking. Both chased from the lands of their birth, neither understood, both disadvantaged, and both trying to hold true to their spiritual beliefs while surrounded by a people and culture that did not and does not understand them.

What if the response of the Powhatan had been to turn Bradford and his followers away? Certainly, there were more than a few opportunities to completely wipe out these pale settlers and be rid of them. What if the tribes had decided to build walls, fencing the pilgrims off and limiting their access to food and water? Perhaps the Powhatan might have forced the immigrants to learn their language. If so, we might all be speaking Algonquian languages now.

Had the Powhatan been as xenophobic as we’ve become, we would not be the country we are now. While speculating on how we might have developed is futile, the willingness of the tribes to tolerate those early religious refugees in the strange clothes, to the point of the tribes’ own doom, was critical in shaping what we have become.

In his commencement address at Rutgers University this past weekend, President Obama addressed the problem of xenophobia in our country.

Isolating or disparaging Muslims, suggesting that they should be treated differently when it comes to entering this country. That is not just a betrayal of our values. That’s not just a betrayal of who were are — it would alienate the communities at home and abroad who are our most important partners in the fight against violent extremism. Suggesting that we can build an endless a wall along our borders and blame our challenges on immigrants — that doesn’t just run counter to our history as the world’s melting pot. It contradicts the evidence that our growth and our innovation and our dynamism has always been driven by our ability to attract strivers from other parts of the globe. That’s how we became America — why would we want to stop it now?

[You can read the full text of President Obama’s address here or watch it here.]

If we are going to continue to be the America we think we are, if we are going to continue to be the land of the free and the home of the brave, if we are going to continue to be the world’s leaders in economics and innovation and science and discovery, then we cannot tolerate xenophobia within our ranks. We must challenge those who speak disparagingly against immigrants, against those who do not speak English, against those who think we must all be Christian, and against those who would turn people away and erect walls along our borders. We must embrace those who are fleeing from political and religious persecution. We must welcome those who come in search of hope. We must put our arms around those looking for the success we have already found.

We cannot live in fear, any fear, whether it is fear of Muslims or Jews or Hindu or Southern Baptists. We cannot live fearing people who arrive on our shores from Syria, Honduras, Mexico, or Guatemala. We cannot live in fear of change, of different cultures, languages, and styles of dress.

We are Americans, damnit. Fear has no place here. Stand up and welcome them to their new home, just like the Powhatan did for a bunch of sea-weary religious extremists in 1620.

black and white

All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves. —Robert Browning

Pictures You Might Have Missed

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True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us. —Socrates

Starting With An Open Mind

Understand We Have A Problem

Politics Blur Our Vision

Understand We Must Move Forward

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It is stupid on my part to think of banning the media. —Shah Rukh Khan

Body Image As A Matter Of Perspective

Body Image As A Matter Of Health

Body Image As A Form Of Judgement

Banning isn’t the answer

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Each one has to find his peace from within. And peace to be real must be unaffected by outside circumstances. —Mahatma Gandhi

Some Get It Right

Reaching Even Deeper

Getting There From Here

Knowing Where To Start

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The best fashion show is definitely on the street. Always has been, and always will be. —Bill Cunningham

A Dislike For Celebrity

An Obsession With Fashion

A Unique Photography

Not Here For The Money

Leaving A Legacy

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What is art, after all, but a protest against the horrible inclemency of life? —Aldous Huxley

Gun Control

The UK Brexit Nonsense

Wall Street and Big Banking

Fur

Religion In Politics

Freedom of the Press

Global Warming & Science Denial

Rape Culture

Costs of College Education

Restrictions On The Human Body

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The ship of democracy, which has weathered all storms, may sink through the mutiny of those on board. —Grover Cleveland

A Relationship With Music

A Short Playlist

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I’m not the smartest fellow in the world, but I can sure pick smart colleagues. —Franklin D. Roosevelt

We Have A Problem

Being Smart Isn’t Easy

Solutions Are Available

Is This Really A Choice?

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Happy is the man who finds a true friend, and far happier is he who finds that true friend in his wife. —Franz Schubert

Let’s try something different

Creating a starting point

Let’s try this again

Or maybe it’s something else

In the end, however …

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I have a simple philosophy: Fill what’s empty. Empty what’s full. Scratch where it itches. —Alice Roosevelt Longworth

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Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it. —Lao Tzu

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Many a calm river begins as a turbulent waterfalls, yet none hurtles and foams all the way to the sea. —Mikhail Lermontov

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I don’t always wear underwear. When I’m in the heat, especially, I can’t wear it. Like, if I’m wearing a flower dress, why do I have to wear underwear? —Naomi Campbell

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