charles i. letbetter

Current Issues  /  PotD
Orlando Is Our Own Fault
June 18, 2016
charles i. letbetter - orlando is our own fault

If it’s never our fault, we can’t take responsibility for it. If we can’t take responsibility for it, we’ll always be its victim. —Richard Bach

 

charles i. letbetter - orlando is our own fult

We cannot blame others for the problems we ourselves have chosen to ignore. If there is a fault in the world, it is our own.

The revolution may be televised, but the next mass shooting will likely be live streamed. Much has been made the past couple of days about the death of a Chicago man who was gunned down while he was live streaming on Facebook. Everyone rush to look. Last I checked, the captured video was still available on Slate.

Now, how did you react to that paragraph? Were you sad? Were you angry? Were you disgusted? Or did you dismiss the whole thing because it happened in Chicago, the murder capitol of the U.S.? Did you roll your eyes and make the assumption regarding the victim’s race? Did you make a moral judgement?

How you responded determines how much at fault you are for the very condition that allowed the event to take place. None of us are innocent. We are all part of this country together and it is what we do together, corporately, how we act, how we react, that determines whether we, as a society, are progressive or destructive and if we’re totally honest with ourselves for a moment, we’re being incredibly destructive.

Dodging Blame

When a shooting happens such as the one in Orlando a week ago, everyone is quick to point fingers. It was the shooter’s fault. It was the shooter’s parents’ fault. It was the shooter’s wife’s fault. It was the president’s fault. It was the fault of Congress. It was the NRA’s fault.

While I am not the least bit dismissive of the responsibility of the shooter and his family, after all, he made the decision to do what he did, no one else, I am not ignorant of the fact that we, you and I, helped shape the conditions that seeded the thought in his head, fostered the hatred that grew in his heart, and made sure his purchase of a semi-automatic assault rifle as the appropriate ammunition was as easy as possible. You and I did that. We aided a murderer.

Orlando is our fault.

We Are The Media

Why do we have so many mass murders in our country, far more than any other developed country in the Western world? The answer is that we make it a popular thing to do. While this is easy enough to blame on the media, the reality is that you and I are the media. More people get their news and opinions from social media than anywhere else, and it’s not traditional news sources they’re reading. Instead, we are more likely to read a story that a friend has shared. That makes you and I part of the media. We are participating in the dissemination of news.

So, every time we share a picture of the Orlando shooter and/or his family, you are telling the next mass shooter that this is an easy way to become famous.

Every time we mention the shooter’s name, you tell the next mass shooter that this is a good way to get people’s attention.

Every time we marginalize a person online because of their race, the tone of their skin, their heritage, their gender, their sexual preferences, their height, their weight, or their religion, you’re telling the next mass shooter that it’s okay to hate those people.

Every time we pass over a hateful comment without correcting the person, we might as well be placing a gun in the shooter’s hands because we’re telling them it is just fine with us if they spread their hate everywhere. If we ignore hateful words, we’ll ignore hateful bullets as well.

We Are The Government

All this bullshit about blaming the president or blaming Congress needs to stop. Not because they failed to pass any form of legislation that would make it more difficult for people to buy the weapons used in mass shootings, but because we are responsible for who is sitting in Congress and the White House. Remember when the Democrats filibustered the Senate for gun control legislation this week? While they were yammering on and on, 48 more people were shot! Here’s how that mapped out:

Orlando is our own fault

Image from Vox

We have spent the past 12 years complaining about a do-nothing Congress. What an incredibly stupid thing for us to do. Why? Because the entire House of Representatives and a third of the Senate, enough to shift the balance of power, is up for re-election every two years. So, if Congress continues to not do anything about violence, if our elected officials  from the White House on down continue to do nothing about gun control, if Congress continues to do nothing but stand there and waste tax payers’ dollars, IT’S OUR OWN FAULT!  We had the opportunity to remove every damn one of those lazy jackasses from office more than once and we have failed to do so. Remember Mr. Lincoln’s line about this being a government for the people and BY THE PEOPLE? That puts the responsibility squarely on our own backs.

Congress has two years to act. If they don’t, it is our responsibility to remove them. Yet, when we keep voting for the same idiots because of a party affiliation or because of tradition, we are only making the problem worse. We are responsible for who sits in Congress and we are responsible for removing them when they sit there doing dumb shit rather than protecting our country.

We Can Fix This

We created this mess, this society that fosters mass shootings. We can clean it up. We have to clean it up. Change doesn’t come from a President. Change comes from people like you and me who start making a stand, who stop being quiet when someone says something stupid on social media (friend count be damned), who changes their own behavior to reflect their values rather than ignoring everything that passes by. There are some very specific steps we can take.

  • Pay attention to incidents of hate and violence at an early age. The Orlando shooter’s classmates are talking about how violent he was while in school. The problem is not that the incidents went unnoticed, but rather that no one did anything to intervene and actually address the issues of anger. We cannot ignore the impact of negative social behavior at an early age.
  • Shut down anyone who talks pro-terror and pro-hate online. We have previously been far too tolerant of hate speech online. We have always been of the opinion that everyone has a right to their own opinion. We’re too willing to agree to disagree. Yet, those negative statements are how Daesh recruits and inspires people to kill others. Shutting down those hateful comments and statements may well help reduce the amount of terroristic influence Daesh and other groups have.
  • Vote. Not just at the federal level, but at the local and state levels as well. There is more hate being spewed by state legislatures than our federal government could ever conceive. Find those who are purveyors and creators of hate and remove every last one of the jackasses from office. This is an election year. There’s no reason to not make it an electoral blood bath.
  • Don’t be quiet. I know a lot of people don’t like to get political in their speech and especially in what they say online. Being adamant about a political opinion can make some relationships awkward and difficult. Fuck awkward and difficult. Fuck friend and follower counts. Silence infers that you agree with the stupidity. Take on the bullshit that is the presumptive nominee for the Republican candidate for president. Speak up!
  • Walk the talk. Check yourself.  Not just online, but in life. Who are we marginalizing? Who are we demonizing unfairly? How are we treating the people who are around us every day? We have to improve. What we do, what we say, how we respond to every challenge we face makes a difference.

Call To Action

We created this monster. We are part of this society that fosters and breeds mass hatred that results in mass shootings. There is no one to blame but ourselves and we have to stand up and take responsibility for dismantling the monster we’ve created. We cannot be a people of peace if we tolerate and perpetuate hate through our action.

Right now, somewhere in the United States, someone is thinking about creating an event that would make Orlando look like a cake walk. If we, you and I, do nothing but blame the media and Congress and guns and the NRA, that person may well succeed. Stop blaming and take some responsibility.

Orlando was our own fault. Don’t let it happen again.

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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.

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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.

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Current Issues  /  Personal  /  Social Commentary
Domestic Violence Intervention
June 15, 2016

This is not love. It is a crime, … You can’t look the other way just because you have not experienced domestic violence with your own flesh. — Salma Hayek

 

charles i. letbetter - domestic violence intervention

When Kat witnessed domestic violence taking place, she stepped in to stop it. Not every response was so helpful.

One thing I’ve learned having US Marines in my life is that they are not passive. When they see a situation that requires immediate attention, they act; it’s in their nature, a part of their training that never leaves.

That response kicked in yesterday while Kat was on her way home. Coming up to the intersection at 30th and Kessler, on the West side of Indianapolis, she found a small car sitting a couple of spaces back from the traffic light, not moving. As she watched, she saw the male passenger grab the female driver by the hair, pull her across to his side of the car, and bang her head against the window. That was all she needed to see.

Kat pulled around in front of the car so it could not easily leave and rescued the woman who was being beaten, removing her from the car to a position of safety outside. As they were calling 911 for help, the male passenger moved to the driver’s seat and stole the car, swerving around Kat and speeding away, leaving the woman stranded.

IMPD was there almost immediately, two female officers well equipped to handle the situation. They took statements from both Kat and the victim. As part of standard procedure, the officers warned Kat that what she did was dangerous, that she should have called 911 rather than stopping. We’ve both heard that line before. The risks are real, but the immediate risk to the woman’s life was greater.

But then …

As the officers were sending Kat on her way, one rather wryly made the statement, “Don’t worry, it’s just drugs and prostitution.”

Kat’s anger seethed. She knew better than to confront the officer right there and came on home. Nothing she could say at that particular moment would help the situation. She knew, though, that the woman wasn’t likely to get the help she needed.

Women across the country were outraged last week when a California judge let a former Stanford swimmer get off on a rape charge with only a six-month sentence, of which he’ll only likely serve three months. The story illustrates just how deeply ingrained the rape and abuse cultures have become in our society. Despite numerous ad campaigns attempting to draw attention to the issue, and even mandatory classes on many college campuses addressing date rape and matters of consent, the justice system itself, and even some in law enforcement still holds to the demeaning and outdated concept that someone’s actions, gender, style of dress, state of sobriety, or occupation naturally leaves them open to and even deserving of domestic violence, abuse, and even workplace violence.

Too often, and for too many years, our society has tolerated the lame excuse, “She was asking for it.” I cannot imagine the mind of any intelligent and critically reasoning person ever believing such a horrendous statement. Who asks to be abused? What person asks to have their hair pulled, their body dragged across a car and their head ferociously beaten against a window? In what insane universe could those actions of violence ever be justified?

Look at the numbers

Domestic violence is one of the most serious issues facing our country, but one which very few want to discuss, and even fewer of us are willing to get involved. Take a look at these statistics:

  • Every 9 seconds in the US a woman is assaulted or beaten.
  • Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women—more than car accidents, muggings, and rapes combined.
  • Studies suggest that up to 10 million children witness some form of domestic violence annually.
  • Nearly 1 in 5 teenage girls who have been in a relationship said a boyfriend threatened violence or self-harm if presented with a breakup.
  • Every day in the US, more than three women are murdered by their husbands or boyfriends.
  • Ninety-two percent of women surveyed listed reducing domestic violence and sexual assault as their top concern.
  • Domestic violence victims lose nearly 8 million days of paid work per year in the US alone—the equivalent of 32,000 full-time jobs.
  • The costs of intimate partner violence in the US alone exceed $5.8 billion per year: $4.1 billion are for direct medical and health care services, while productivity losses account for nearly $1.8 billion.
  • Men who as children witnessed their parents’ domestic violence were twice as likely to abuse their own wives than sons of nonviolent parents.

The rate of incidents is appalling and in a country that is serious about stopping the ever-increasing rate of crimes such as mass shootings we should be looking at those with a history of witnessing or being involved in domestic violence as the primary source. If we want a safer America, we first have to start with safer homes, safer relationships, and a justice system that punishes the perpetrator, not the victim.

A little respect, please

As disappointing as the officer’s statement was yesterday, such a lack of respect is not unusual. Kat listened in on the 911 conversation and found the operator dismissive and condescending, as though she didn’t feel the need to take the crime seriously. Others have reported similar 911 experiences where operators either delayed in sending help, or downplayed the severity of the situation.

Let’s get this straight right now: NO ONE DESERVES TO BE ABUSED! Prostitutes are not asking for it. Drug addicts are not asking for it. Drunks are not asking for it. Women who dress in short skirts, high heels, or low-cut dresses are not asking for it. Strippers are not asking for it. Female bartenders are not asking for it. Housewives who burn dinner are not asking for it. Children who are loud and noisy are not asking for it. Homeless people are not asking for it. Mentally or emotionally incapacitated people are not asking for it. Elderly people are not asking for it. Those who disagree with you are not asking for it. Those who challenge a presidential candidate are not asking for it.

NO ONE IS ASKING FOR IT!

The woman Kat helped yesterday was almost certainly involved with some form of controlled substance. That does not exclude her, however, from the protection and respect that every human being deserves! Even if the woman is a prostitute, she still does not deserve to be beaten. She deserves respect, she deserves the same help you would want for your own wife or daughter.

We must end this culture where we think that anyone deserves to be treated with violence of any kind. What people deserve is compassion, sympathy, and love.

One More Thing

Before I end, let me say that we know domestic violence takes many forms and that getting away from that violence is often not easy. If you live in Indiana and need help, there is someone you can call:

800.332.7385

The members of the Indiana Coalition Against Domestic Violence (icdavinc.org) will do their best to help you change your situation and find safety. As always, if you feel your life is in immediate danger, call 911.

What Kat did yesterday involves a high level of risk and is not the type of intervention I recommend for most people. Kat is a highly trained and experienced United States Marine. The action she took may have saved a life. We don’t question the quality of that life or judge the woman in any way. She deserves to live free of violence just as much as you or I. We hope she gets all the help she needs.

And thank you, Kat, for being brave enough to intervene. I love you.

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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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Current Issues  /  Social Commentary
Intentionally Teaching Love
June 14, 2016
charles i. letbetter - intentionally teaching love

People who add value to others do so intentionally. I say that because to add value, leaders must give of themselves, and that rarely occurs by accident. —John C. Maxwell

 

charles i. letbetter - intentionally teaching love

Children learn from many sources that don’t always value others. Teaching them to love must be intentional.

Teachable moments are everywhere. Sometimes that’s a good thing; we have the ability to reinforce values and support positive action. Others, not so much; lessons learned at the hands of others doesn’t necessarily reflect the values we think are important. Most adults don’t set out to provide examples of hate, but it happens. Hate is everywhere and the best way I know to combat that is to intentionally, and aggressively teach love. Consider the following scenarios, all of which actually happened.

Scenario 1.

We moved the kids to a different school in February of this year because they weren’t responding well to the environment of their previous school. While the move was a positive one academically, one of the things we began no notice was the frequency with which one child would say to the other, usually in a fit of frustration, “I hate you.” Sometimes those words were directed at us, as well. Where was this coming from? We certainly never used that language at home and would not tolerate anyone else using those words around them. Turns out, they were hearing it from other children, not necessarily directed at them, but toward others and toward toys as they play.

Scenario 2.

Our neighbor across the street is a really cool guy. We like him a lot. One of his biggest challenges, though, is with relationships. He goes through girlfriends like I go through cheaply made shoes; it’s rare one lasts six months. His most recent flame had two little girls, ages nine and three. The nine-year-old was pleasant enough, always polite, active, and respectful of those around her. The three-year-old, however, was the antithesis of her sister. Not only was the little one a trash talking queen, she stole the tricycle from under our carport on multiple occasions, and stomped through our garden, crushing plants.  We eventually had to ban her from playing with our little ones and soon after they moved.

Scenario 3.

One of our favorite couples is biracial. He has two children from a previous relationship. They make a lovely family and within their household there is a continuous emphasis on love and acceptance. So, it really hurt yesterday when she went to pick up her step-son from day camp and was told that one of the other campers had called her step-son a “F***ing n****r.” To their credit, the camp immediately addressed the situation and took appropriate action. Still, both the young man and his parents were shocked, hurt, and appalled that a child would even use such language against another child.

Sadly, I could continue, but I’m sure that’s enough to make my point. No matter how carefully we guard the environment in which our children are in, there is always a chance for hate to slip in and do its dirty work. When even small children as young as three are spewing hate toward each other, we have a serious problem. We have seen too many examples where what started as mere words from a child grew up to become a young person so consumed by hate that they pick up a gun and start shooting. If we want our children to learn love, if we want our children to become people who respond to others with love, we have to intentionally teach love at every opportunity.

There is a video circulating, which I will neither post nor link, showing the father of the Orlando shooter being very aggressive in his hate toward the LGBT community. One doesn’t have to delve too strongly into abnormal behavior to understand that at least part of the father’s anger and hate rubbed off onto his son. What if that father had been equally as vocal about love? What if he had intentionally made videos about the importance of loving those who are different from us? Could that have made a difference?

This is new territory. Always before, parents have been able to reasonably assume that if they showed love to their children, if they set a loving example of how to treat other people, if they corrected inappropriate behavior in their children as it happened, that they, too would grow up to be people who love. That’s not what has happened, nor what is currently happening. Passive love is not enough. Setting a good example is not enough. If we are not intentionally addressing matters of love, preemptively discussing how to respond to situations before they happen, creating moments for the specific purpose of teaching love, then we are leaving our children vulnerable.

I’m not good at this. I was raised with passive love. I used passive love with my boys. Intentionally teaching love is different; it’s work. But when we do it correctly, it changes the attitudes of our children, and those around us, from tolerance of hate to an expectation of love.

Scenario 4.

While walking along Mass. Ave. this past Saturday, on our way to get coffee before the parade, we came across a very colorful burlesque performer who goes by the name Honey Bourbon. Her dress was like a rainbow of satin and Miss Tippy grew very excited when she saw it. “Her dress is so pretty!,” Tippy said to Kat.

“Why don’t you tell her that?” Kat encouraged.

She did. Loudly. “Your dress is beautiful!” Tippy exclaimed, the excitement ready to burst out of her.

Miss Bourbon thanked her and we both kept walking. The exchange was quick. Simple. Maybe even forgettable for some people. Yet, that is exactly what I mean by intentionally teaching love. Someone else might have responded by telling Tippy to be quiet, or even putting space between the child and the stranger. Those actions only teach fear, though, and fear leads to hate. Instead, Kat encouraged Tippy to show her appreciation, to be kind, and not be afraid. Those are actions of love that we hope Tippy remembers and carries with her.

At Sunday night’s Tony Awards, Lin-Manuel Miranda, creator of the smash hit Hamilton, accepted the award for best score with a sonnet. I played the video for the kids yesterday and will play it for them again today. We’ve not discussed the horrible event of Orlando with them. We don’t watch broadcast news so that is one piece of sadness that has not entered their lives. What Lin has to say, though, puts the emphasis on love. Love is love is love is love. That is the lesson we want our children to learn. That is the lesson we want the whole world to learn. Love cannot be left to chance or to accident. Teaching love must be intentional and we must start now.

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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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Music
Songs We Need For Today
June 13, 2016
charles i. letbetter - songs you need right now

If I knew where the good songs came from, I’d go there more often. —Leonard Cohen

 

charles i. letbetter - songs you need for today

Certain songs just resonate at certain times in our lives, keeping us moving, reminding us to not give up, that the prize is worth the struggle

Mondays are difficult days under any circumstances, but this one is especially difficult. We’re hurting as we remember the victims from Sunday morning’s senseless attack on the LGBT community in Orlando. The continued diatribe and nonsense from politicians is maddening because we’ve been here before, heard the same words before, and watched them do absolutely nothing. We cannot rely upon our political leaders to do what it takes to change this situation. We must make the change ourselves.

Change does not come by hating those who hate, though. Change comes through the increase of love, through encouragement, through kind words, through being there not only for friends but for strangers who are struggling. Change comes in how we respond to each other, day in and day out.

I firmly believe that music helps. Songs often say what we cannot with a passion we ourselves might be afraid to show. Songs can be there for a friend when circumstances keep us away. Songs linger in the minds of those who hear them, providing instruction and inspiration long after the music fades away. Songs deliver us from the pain we feel and remind us that a better world lies ahead. Songs help us share love when we can’t seem to form the words in our own mouths.

After watching last night’s Tony Awards, I’m convinced that some of the most inspirational songs for moments like this are found in the musicals of Broadway. So, I’ve chosen five that I find appropriate to what I’m feeling, what I assume others are feeling. I hope these will provide you with strength, motivation, and inspiration as you go through today and the rest of this week. And may you always remember that no matter what anyone says, no matter what anyone does, no matter how anyone acts, Love wins.

Always. Love wins.

https://youtu.be/AfN9AIqeYxU

https://youtu.be/ei1jsFOO3CQ

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Current Issues  /  Photography  /  PotD
Love Is Still Alive
June 13, 2016
charles i. letbetter - love is still alive

When you arise in the morning, think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive – to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love. —Marcus Aurelius

 

charles i. letbetter - PRIDE is still alive

What happened in Orlando Sunday morning causes everyone who is LGBT and LGBT Allies to hurt. But PRIDE is still alive and will continue to be proud

We woke up Saturday morning excited about the parade. We drove downtown early to find a parking spot, walked down Mass. Ave. to get our coffee on, then walked back to claim our favorite spot from which to shoot the parade. Sure, it was warm and humid, but that was okay. We were prepared for that. Kat carried water and snacks in her purse. She and the kids sat in the shade and waited and even made some new friends.

We came home, exhausted but happy. The kids faces were red from the sun but they were more excited about the excessively large amount of candy they had received (which will be distributed among more responsible people). I downloaded the pictures, marked the ones that I liked, and enjoyed a nap. It was a good day.

Then, we woke up Sunday to bad news that just kept getting worse. By noon, we were wondering what the fuck was wrong with our country. We felt what all our friends were feeling: hurt, anger, and disbelief when the body count went to 50. How could this happen? Why would this happen?

Next came the realization that the day could have been worse. Los Angeles police received a tip that allowed them to stop someone that, at the time, seemed bent on disrupting the LA Pride parade. With the number of weapons and explosive making materials confiscated, considerable harm might have been done, though the young man’s motives remain unclear.

I offer no explanation nor excuses for to do so is folly. Hate is the bottom line and we can make all the excuses and place the blame a dozen different places but at the end of the day if we don’t address the hate we leave the door open for the same thing to happen again.

How do we address the hate? By showing more love. The LGBT community and their allies are hurting, but Love did not die on the floor at Pulse. LOVE is still alive. Love is not going anywhere. We will take a moment to reflect, to mourn, and to honor the fallen. Then, we will return to the clubs, to the streets, to the parades and we will show everyone that Love is still alive. We are embracing, still armed with acceptance, still ready to celebrate the individuality of every person, no matter how they identify with life.

We who are alive respect those whose lives were lost this weekend by bit letting these events weaken our resolve. Everyone has the right to be who they choose to be and no one has the right to take your personhood away, not with a gun, not with their speech, not with a stupid law about where to pee. We are alive and we are PROUD of those who stand in support of those who are different from themselves. We are PROUD that Indianapolis mayor Joe Hogsett and his wife were front and center at Saturday’s parade. We are PROUD that Democratic gubernatorial candidate John Gregg walked alongside LGBT supporters. We are PROUD that this year’s parade grew even larger and that more businesses stepped out of the shadows to show their support.

So, today we share our photos from Saturday, when we were happy, when we didn’t even think that someone might target such an event with hate, when we took PRIDE in being alive and sharing a moment with our LGBT friends. You’ll see the mayor, Cadillac Barbie, Mr. Gregg, and many more. You’ll see the drone that hovered above the parade route and a young man who looks angry but actually had just run out of bananas to give away. You’ll see bubbles and bodies and rainbows but more than anything you’ll see people happy to be alive and being free to be themselves.

Kat sent me a video this morning that I also want you to see. The scene is from a PRIDE event in South Korea. Parents of LGBT children stand in the street and give hugs to anyone, to everyone, to show that they are loved. I cannot help but wonder if this isn’t the attitude we need to take as well. What kind of message would it send if thousands of LGBT allies stood on the circle and gave hugs and messages of support not only to our LGBT friends, but to anyone who needs that moment of love and affirmation? I’ll put the video after the photos.

I never wear any color but black, but this morning there is a button on my shirt. It is round, bordered by a rainbow and says, “ALLY.” My plan is to wear that button everywhere I go, every day, for as long as I can keep up with the magnetic back, so that everyone I see will know that this weekend’s tragedy has not weakened our resolve. We are alive, determined to support our LGBT friends, and determined, more than ever, to love.

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Personal  /  PotD
She Calls Me Daddy
June 12, 2016
charles i. letbetter - She Calls Me Daddy

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

 

charles i. letbetter - she calls me daddy

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.

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PotD  /  Social Commentary
Pride Justified
June 11, 2016
charles i. letbetter - pride justified

What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars. —William Wordsworth

 

charles i. letbetter - pride justified

LGBT Pride Month may not be popular with conservatives but as long as hate remains, the love is justified.

After a full day yesterday, we will be dragging the kids from bed in a few minutes, painting their nails, tossing something resembling food in their mouths, then heading downtown for the Cadillac Barbie Indiana Pride Parade. This is a regular thing for us. We’ve done it every year Kat and I have been together. More than any other event in town, this is the one we feel obligated to get up and attend.

Sure, the parade is always a lot of fun. The people involved go out of their way to make it fun. And for the moment, the biggest concern the kids have is, “will there be candy?” because, you know, in their minds that’s what parades are all about.

There are important reasons, though, for attending the Pride parade, even if the kids don’t understand just yet what those reasons are. I’m much happier taking the little ones to a parade rather than a protest, which is the only choice my parents had back in the 1960s. I can promise you there was no candy back then. While they may not understand now, one day they’ll look back and realize how important this time is both for us as a country and as a civilization.

Conservatives erupted with howls of hate when President Obama declared June LGBT Pride Month. The religious extremists among us screamed with fury. We’ve seen this kind of reaction before. They did the same thing with Civil Rights in the 60s and Women’s Rights in the 1920s. Every positive step forward we’ve made has been met with opposition by the same groups of people. They are unable to accept the natural progression and change that comes as we develop more fully as a civilization. They spew their hate and, if allowed to have their way, keep us thinking like Neanderthals.

With all the hate we’ve seen this year directed toward transgender people (the T in the LGBT acronym, in case you didn’t know), attending this year’s parade and supporting Pride is as important as ever. While the little ones may not even fully understand the concept of sexuality yet, it is important to know that there is no room for hate, no room for exception, no room for discrimination because of any  difference, no matter what that difference might be.

Ideally, that should be enough, but I know some people that I’ve known since my own childhood are not yet convinced. So, here are a few reasons why Pride is justified:

  • LGBT people are human. Just like anyone else, one’s sexuality does not take away their human card. Being human endows one with unalienable rights, not the least among those being life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. You know where that phrase originates. If we are not supporting human rights for everyone we are not supporting human rights at all. I will go even further in saying that any candidate, for any office that does not fully support human rights for everyone, without exception, cannot legitimately be a true representative of the people.
  • Ignorance kills. Too many people who have grown up accepting who they are have been bullied, beaten, and even killed because of the ignorance of others. That such behavior continues is beyond shameful. The only way to stop these acts of hate and violence is to address the ignorance behind them. LGBT people are your brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and all any of them want is love.
  • For those who didn’t make it. When I was in high school, being out as being gay wasn’t cool. Everyone who now can stand proudly with their same gender spouse was firmly in the closet back then. While most made it out and are living beautiful lives, not everyone did. AIDS claimed the lives of a number of people who had been forced to stay in that closet during the 70s and early 80s. Even if help had been available, finding it in rural Oklahoma would have been impossible. As we think of those lost lives we must be committed to making sure that environment of fear never exists again.
  • For those who did make it. I had to smile this week as I scrolled through my Facebook feed and saw a picture of one of my favorite high school friends standing with his husband next to the Democratic nominee for president. Again, we all grew up in an extremely closeted environment unwelcoming of anyone who was different. The number of friends from high school and college who are now out and either married or in happy long-term relationships is joyous. Even more are those who are out and choose for their own reasons to remain single. They are all incredible people who have struggled with acceptance and both social and legal limitations. They all deserve to be celebrated.
  • Because love wins. If there is an ultimate lesson for the little ones to learn, it is this: love wins. Love, in all its glorious and fabulous forms, is not confining. Love does not tell you that you must behave one way or another. Love does not limit who you are or who you can become. Love accepts everyone. Love takes you to the top. Love conquers even the most vile and orange hate.

Everyone loves a parade and this one today will be louder, prouder, and more fabulous than any other to hit the streets of Indianapolis. We’re excited to attend and will be equally excited to post pictures in two or three days. But lest anyone think this a mere frivolity, be quite certain, this Pride is justified. Do not deny. We’ve told you why. No time to cry. We’re gonna fly.

Bye.

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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

 

charles i. letbetter - feeling the heat

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.

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PotD  /  Social Commentary
The Sexy Party Is Real
June 9, 2016
charles i. letbetter - the sexy party is real

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

 

charles i. letbetter - the sexy party is real

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.

 

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Fashion  /  PotD
An Ethical Wardrobe
June 8, 2016

A man is truly ethical only when he obeys the compulsion to help all life which he is able to assist, and shrinks from injuring anything that lives. —Albert Schweitzer

 

charles i. letbetter - an ethical wardrobe

We need clothes. We want clothes. But must each purchase we make hurt someone else? Can one have an ethical wardrobe?

I had a wardrobe crisis occur a couple of weeks ago. I looked down at my shoes, the one pair of black, slip-resistant shoes I’ve worn every day for over a year and a half, and saw a hole. I knew what was coming next. Because of the unbalanced nature of my walk, the right shoe always wears a hole in the same place: the inside seam where the upper meets the sole. Every time. The hole starts small enough but expands quickly and is not repairable. I was going to have to buy new shoes.

I hate having to buy clothes. I especially dislike having to buy new clothes as long as there is a reasonable and ethical alternative. Shoes, however, are the one thing I’ve learned to buy new, and to spend a little money. Sure, I could go to a discount shoe place and get a pair for$20, but I’m lucky if those last six months. I want a pair of shoes that lasts at least a year, longer if I don’t wear them every day. Shoes are a justifiable expense. Sort of. I still look for sales and ended up actually purchasing two pair so that neither wears out quite so quickly. I shouldn’t have to buy shoes again for at least three-four years.

That logic doesn’t apply to everything in my wardrobe, though. There is very little in my wardrobe that is less than five years old.  I have a couple of sweaters that I’ve retired after 15 years of wearing and washing. About half the black shirts I wear every day are over ten years old. When I do occasionally need to replace one, thrift stores make more sense than do department or fast fashion stores. By shopping for previously worn clothes, I’m keeping something out of a landfill, which is often as much as 30% discarded clothing. It’s an ethical thing for me, not really a standard to which I hold anyone else.

If you’ve seen me, you know my personal style is not exactly on-trend. I soon could be, perhaps. Marc Jacobs has officially declared 1980s retro back in style. The problem with that, on a personal level, is that I’m about 436 sizes larger now than I was in the 80s. Even if I still had all those stylish (cough-cough) threads from back then, there’s no way that I would still be able to fit my ample dad body into clothes that did a good job of making my butt look almost attractive (something that was much more a concern then than it is now). Does that mean I can ethically justify buying new clothes that look like the clothes I wore 30 years ago? Probably not.

Having an ethical wardrobe is more important to me than having a stylish ensemble for every day. There are multiple reasons for holding that view, but fundamental to that reasoning is that I don’t want to get dressed every morning knowing that what I’m wearing was assembled by a child in Bangladesh who is thrilled to be making $73 a month and is using all that to help support his/her family. Yes, I really do think about those things in the dark at 4:00 AM. I’m also not a fan of adding to Amancio Ortega’s $57 billion empire (he own’s Zara, among other fashion-related things). I’m especially not a fan of ripping off designers, which is what fast fashion retailers do on a daily basis.

The ethical implications of what I have in my closet are significant. I’m not ignorant of the ethical challenges that occur in the fashion world.  I know that what I buy individually, while it may seem small and insignificant on one level, becomes part of a greater whole. When I make a purchase, no matter where or what it is, I am aligning myself with a larger group of people making like-minded decisions and it is in the rise and fall of those groups from which trends are set. If I want to encourage a trend away from cheaply-sourced materials, then I have to refrain from buying cheaply sourced materials. Likewise, buying clothes manufactured in New York’s garment district, for example, encourages domestic production in an environment where workers are more likely to be treated fairly.

Still, if the 80s are indeed coming back … how do I not get in on some of that action? I felt good about my fashion choices back then. I had multiple pairs of Levi’s 501 jeans back then, and they were still being made in Northern California at the time. Levi’s has moved production south of the border though and I’m not sure one can even find 501 jeans in the store anymore. Shopping directly from Marc Jacob’s isn’t a financial option, either. How do I enjoy this momentary global lapse of stylish sanity while still holding to the ethical standards I’ve set for my wardrobe?

A couple of years ago, a Canadian artist, Sarah Lazarovic, wrote a book, A Bunch Of Pretty Things I Did Not Buy. This very interesting young woman went a full year without buying any new clothes. None. I know a lot of people who would begin to hyperventilate at the thought of going more than a week without making a new purchase of some kind. The book is quite interesting and, while everything she has to say may not align with someone else’s specific situation, she did come up with this interesting pyramid she calls the “buyerarchy of needs” to help one make a bit more sense of their fashion purchases. While she is not preaching a strict ethical behavior, the implications and applications are there. Take a look:

charles i. letbetter - an ethical wardrobe

The Buyerarchy of Needs. Copyright Sarah Lazarovic

The concept is pretty straight forward. Buying something new should be the last option. Using what you have, perhaps even repurposing what you have, should be where we all start. There’s no good reason why we should be completely turning over our wardrobes every few months. If you’re looking at a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing, consider borrowing from someone who’s already been there. Kat and her friends swap clothes back and forth, both adult and children’s. Thrift, and I would add Vintage, shopping are my personal preference (though, I would warn, not everything in a vintage shop is necessarily original from that period). Making things yourself is one of those things that varies from person to person. I’m useless in that department.

Does that mean that I still don’t watch labels for where garments are made? No, not at all. Even when I’m thrift or vintage shopping I still look at labels and avoid those I know are unethically sourced. But, following the precepts of this pyramid brings us a lot closer to having an ethical wardrobe than we might achieve on our own.

Again, the standards I set for myself are not necessarily applicable to anyone else. You have to decide for yourself whether an ethical approach to shopping is even a concern. But for me, whether I’m buying a new pair of shoes or a t-shirt to replace the one that just disintegrated in the wash, how I shop matters. A lot.

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Advertising  /  Music  /  Photography  /  PotD  /  video
Smiles And Sadness
June 7, 2016

Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been. —Mark Twain

 

charles i. letbetter - smiles and sadness

There are moments of sadness we cannot miss and there are opportunities for smiles we should not ignore

The dog just let out a sigh of frustration. One of the cats is noisily clawing the hell out of a scratching pad. This is one of today’s smiles because I know that while the dog does nothing now but sigh and return to sleep on top of the clean clothes I just pulled from the dryer, he’s planning on revenge when said cat is wanting to sun itself in the window later.

I am feeling emotional this morning and apologize for the disjointedness that emotion creates. I’m already planning for tomorrow’s article as the Tipster graduates kindergarten. I’ll have to start writing that one today or it won’t get done. There are plenty of smiles in that one, but also a sense of sadness as well.

That mix of smiles and sadness is running heavily across a lot of things on my mind this morning. When I first heard of photographer David Gilkey’s death in Afghanistan on Sunday, I tried to ignore it. I didn’t know David. I’m not aware of any time we might have crossed paths. So, I assumed I would be able to disconnect from the fact another colleague has given his life in pursuit of a story that no one else is telling.  There are too many of these deaths each year and with every one of them, I find myself drawn to a dark place where I wonder why I’m not taking those same risks.  I’ve not been able to put Gilkey’s death out of my mind, though. Every time I’ve turned on NPR the past two days there has been some mention of this loss of an incredible photographer. NPR has a wonderfully touching remembrance with several of David’s wonderful photographs. You would do well to click the link and take a look.

I’m also feeling mixed about a new video from 360 Google, the experimental VR arm of the giant tech company. Yeah, sure, on one hand it’s a somewhat rough sketch of what the new technology is capable of producing. Investors are show videos like this as proof of concept more than anything. But the story they’ve chosen to illustrate is one that tugs more on the heart strings than an investor’s pocketbook. “Pearl” takes us on a journey of a young man, a would-be musician, choosing to live out of his car. Life moves quickly in the first few scenes. There’s a woman, then a little girl, and we don’t know where the woman’s gone but she’s no longer in the picture. It’s just Pearl and her dad, moving from place to place in that car. She grows up, inherits the car and more. The end, in true story-book fashion, has you smiling through tears. There are a lot of feels in this video, and a lot of smiles, and some important statements about life. You’ll forget this was supposed to be about technology.

After that, I need a distraction or else I’m going to be nothing more than a bundle of emotion all day and that’s never productive. I’ll end up sitting on the couch with the dog watching Netflix and eating those godawful chips I should never have bought in the first place. Another pot of coffee is on. The dog is off the laundry and back in his bed. We can continue.

Advertising has delivered a couple of smiles already this week. The first came with the release of a new ad from cellular carrier Sprint. Normally, it would take a lot for anything in this sector to make me smile. There is so much fraud and disinformation in this whole sector that I usually just roll my eyes. But what makes this fun is that Sprint has stolen Verizon’s long-time spokesperson, Paul “Can-you-hear-me-now” Marcarelli. This doesn’t happen often because non-competes are usually iron-clad and indefinite. Apparently, Paul’s wasn’t indefinite. Here’s the result:

I’m sure someone’s learning a very valuable lesson about talent contracts about now.

Then, there’s the new LG ad for vacuums. Yeah, I didn’t know they made vacuums, either. What they did was pull off an incredible stunt that likely would have never gotten approval in the US. They went to Korea and asked Extreme Rock Climbing Medalist Sierra Blair-Coyle to climb a freakin’ skyscraper using nothing more than a couple of household dirt suckers. The climb took her 30 minutes with the vacuums attached to her back. Now, I don’t know if anyone’s carpet really needs that much sucking power, but it’s a pretty impressive stunt. I’m going to attempt to embed the video, but if it doesn’t work on your device you can also find it here.

 

Then, there was the announcement yesterday that Buzzfeed is canceling its advertising contract with the GOP. This is both huge and unprecedented. Buzzfeed is one of the top five information websites on the Internet. Millions of people are influenced by what they see there. Not being able to place ads on Buzzfeed is a significant blow to what is already a difficult task in supporting the GOP’s choice for president. I’m sure Buzzfeed could have used the $1.5 million as well. But CEO John Peretti decided the company needed to take a stand. He wrote, in part:

“We certainly don’t like to turn away revenue that funds all the important work we do across the company. However, in some cases we must make business exceptions: we don’t run cigarette ads because they are hazardous to our health, and we won’t accept Trump ads for the exact same reason.”

What will be interesting now is whether other Internet media will make similar moves in either direction. In one way, it might be seen as a way of making a political donation to the opposition without infringing upon donation limits or having to work through a super Pac. At the same time, this demonstrates how dependent campaigns are on all forms of media coverage. Should this move be replicated by other companies, the GOP effort could be substantially hindered.

One source of about 9,000 smiles this week came from funny man John Oliver. Since it’s debut last year, Oliver’s show, Last Week Tonight, has gotten a lot of attention for the clever way he brings attention to important but often overlooked subjects. He completely outdid himself this past Sunday, though. The goal was to demonstrate how easy it is for quite literally anyone to buy and collect delinquent debt. What he ended up actually doing, though, was performing the largest giveaway in television history by forgiving the nearly $15 million in debt he had bought. This seriously raises the bar in a couple of ways. First, anyone serious about being generous is going to have to cough up some serious cash. This is double anything Oprah ever did. Secondly, is challenges other so-called news organizations to do more than just talk about a news story, but to actually get involved. Is this good journalism, not exactly, but then, Oliver isn’t a journalist and this isn’t a real news show. The clip runs 20 minutes, so feel free to bookmark it and come back later to watch.

One more set of smiles and then we all need to get on about our day. I’m sure we both have more important things to do, even if we’re not especially inclined to do them. James Corden, host of CBS’ Late, Late Show, used his popular carpool karaoke segment to advertise the fact that he’s hosting Sunday’s Tony Awards. This may be the best carpool yet. Enjoy the smiles then enjoy your day.

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Advertising  /  Fashion  /  Original Style  /  PotD
Beauty Becomes A Battlefield
June 6, 2016

Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. —Edgar Allan Poe

 

charles i. letbetter - beauty becomes a battlefield.

The beauty industry has played for years to women wanting to look beautiful, but today women don’t want their help.

Beauty is big business. In the United States alone, cosmetics companies rake in over $60 billion a year. Proctor & Gamble and L’Oréal alone have a combined global revenue in excess of $115 billion. That’s not even starting to figure in on what is spent at salons and spas. People want to look better because, more than anything, it helps them to feel better about themselves. Perhaps it is a little vain, but as long as the individual is doing it for themselves, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to spruce up one’s image a bit.

Unfortunately, there are plenty of people running around who think we all should look better than we do.

No, scratch that, they think women should look better than they do. Just try to find an employee handbook that tells men they need to come to work with makeup. I’d offer to wait but I already know you’re not going to find anything. Beauty is sexist because society is sexist and the biases and attitudes that were encoded in the 1950s have never really gone away, no matter how advanced we like to think we have become. Women are still expected to wear makeup, to make themselves “look better” than they naturally do, and an entire industry depends on women buying into that concept that they just don’t look good enough.

Men have never been taught that they need to do anything to their appearance beyond,  depending upon social trends, maybe shave occasionally. You don’t see ads for men’s wrinkle cream. You don’t see ads telling men they need longer lashes. You don’t see men telling them they need to look “flawless.” Yet, women are bombarded with those very instructions every day and if they don’t succumb to those expectations, they can sometimes lose their jobs.

The battle between women and society over makeup is not a new one, but it may be reaching a fervor. Last year, actress Demi Lavato started a trend using the hashtag #NoMakeupMonday. About the same time, the hashtag #Iwokeuplikethis began appearing. By the end of the year, the two hashtags had appeared on Instagram over 10 million times. The craze caught on and big name models and stars such as Taylor Swift, Cindy Crawford, and Gwenyth Paltrow have all posted bare-faced photos of themselves. Of course, they then went immediately and put on makeup.

The latest volley from the #nomakup side came last week when singer Alicia Keys announced that she’s not wearing makeup. Ever. In her article for the magazine Lenny, the singer says:

In one song I wrote, called “When a Girl Can’t Be Herself,” it says,

In the morning from the minute that I wake up  / What if I don’t want to put on all that makeup  / Who says I must conceal what I’m made of  / Maybe all this Maybelline is covering my self-esteem

No disrespect to Maybelline, the word just worked after the maybe. But the truth is … I was really starting to feel like that — that, as I am, I was not good enough for the world to see.

This started manifesting on many levels, and it was not healthy.

Every time I left the house, I would be worried if I didn’t put on makeup: What if someone wanted a picture?? What if they POSTED it??? These were the insecure, superficial, but honest thoughts I was thinking. And all of it, one way or another, was based too much on what other people thought of me.

The cover art for her new album is a picture of Ms. Keys, straight from the gym, no makeup, no styling, nothing. Of course, she’s beautiful.

But is that all it takes to undo decades of chauvinistic attitudes toward beauty? And, isn’t this expectation that everyone needs to be running around sans makeup just as bad as one that says everyone needs makeup? If someone else is setting the standard, isn’t one just as bad as the other?

Back in December of last year, Flare magazine published an open letter to Demi Levato that addresses that very situation. In that article, they raise the issue that there cannot be just one standard of beauty that magically fits all the women around the world. About halfway through the article, they make this statement:

It’s not the tyranny of makeup that women need to fight back against, but the tyranny of appearance. And when we post #nomakeup selfies, we’re replacing one beauty standard with another. Scratch that—we’re actually upholding an almost identical beauty standard. We’re just making it a lot harder to achieve by telling the women of the world that not only are they supposed to look like Goop or Rih-Rih or the ethereal goddess running across a field in your J.Crew catalogue—now they’re supposed to do it without the assistance of makeup.

And here women find themselves feeling as though they can’t please anyone. If they wear makeup, that’s feeding a negative stereotype. If they don’t wear makeup, they’re still feeding a negative bias that says they have to look a certain way. When does a woman get to choose how she looks because that’s how she wants to look?

Last April comedienne Amy Schumer took on the issue by parodying One Direction’s “What Makes You Beautiful” and in doing so makes the point that pushing a #nomakeup standard is just as superficial as insisting that a woman must wear makeup every day for every occasion. Both are wrong. Both need to stop. The video is hilarious, so of course, I had to share:

Whether one likes makeup or not, what ultimately matters is that you look the way you want to look. Society has no business defining what is best, or preferable, or even professional. We haven’t even touched on the topic of modifications such as piercings and dermals. The only person who can define your beauty is you and if that includes makeup, that’s fine. No one has any room to criticize what makes you feel like the best and most beautiful you.

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Art  /  Current Issues  /  Experimental  /  Original Style  /  PotD
Naked Thoughts While Walking The Dog
June 5, 2016
charles i. letbetter - naked thoughts while walking the dog

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

 

charles i. letbetter - naked thoughts while walking the dog

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.

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Art  /  Current Issues  /  Mythology  /  PotD
The Challenge Of Remembering Muhammad Ali
June 4, 2016
charles i. letbetter - the challenge of remembering Muhammad Ali

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

 

charles i. letbetter - the challenge of remembering 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.

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Art  /  PotD  /  science
Only The Artists Survive
June 3, 2016

The modern artist must live by craft and violence. His gods are violent gods. Those artists, so called, whose work does not show this strife, are uninteresting. —Ezra Pound

 

charles i. letbetter - only the artists survive

When Artificial Intelligence takes all the jobs, what’s left for us to do but make art?

All the career advice sites are wrong. There is only one group that grows through all the coming economic and political upheavals and they’re not computer engineers, stock market gurus, or the incredibly brainy astrophysicists; they are artists. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it, that after all these centuries of struggling that it would be artists that ultimately survive? But that may very well be what the future has in store.

First, though, here’s the bad news: Computers are going to take your jobs. Artificial Intelligence (AI) is growing rapidly and even though AI is still years from matching humans on every level, they are incrementally improving every day. There isn’t likely to be one giant robotic takeover. Instead, they’ll simply take a few jobs here, a few there,  and a few more later until they have them all. We will wake up one morning and realize that no one is hiring because all the jobs are automated.

Robotic arms have been a reality on manufacturing floors for several years. There hasn’t been a new car roll off an assembly line in 20 years that hasn’t been touched at some point by a robot. Just last month, fast-food chain Wendy’s announced that they are beginning to test self-serve kiosks operated by robots in response to rising operational costs. McDonald’s has already expressed interest in similar technology. Eventually, there will be no need for either manufacturing line workers or food service employees at any level of operation.

Financial services don’t get off any better. Earlier this week BMO Harris Bank announced it is laying off four percent of its workforce due to a decline in branch transaction. Why the decline? Automation. As cash becomes less of a necessity, we don’t need branch bank employees to handle checks or withdrawals. Almost every branch transaction can be done on a smartphone, including deposits. Stock exchange operations have also been largely computer controlled for over 30 years and are at a point now where floor traders are already obsolete, but the industry just can’t imagine giving them up. The entire sector will eventually dissolve into digital and AI operations.

The picture doesn’t get any better. Almost anywhere one looks, AI is slowly taking over. Slowly. First, they start with the tasks no one likes doing, the little things that are easy, things that are repetitive, jobs that seem to take more effort than they’re worth. We buy into the concept that they are saving us time and money. Over time, we continue giving them more tasks, the programming develops to the point they gain “intelligence.” Then, someone realizes it is more efficient to just let the computers and robots and digital devices do everything. At that point, you’re out of a job.

What do we do if there are no jobs? Well, maybe a flat rate income from the government is the answer. Silicon Valley start-up incubator Y Combinator is looking at that possibility. Earlier this year, they began a five-year study to examine the impact of giving everyone, without exception, a flat, standard living wage. The prospects are monumental and the results could reach every aspect of society as we now know it.

Not everyone is waiting for the research. Citizens of Switzerland are voting on a referendum this Sunday that would give every person a guaranteed income of 30,000 Swiss francs, equivalent to just over $32,000 in US dollars. The move has plenty of critics, to be sure. Yet, it is a real-world experiment that every other country on the planet will be watching should it pass.

So, when all the jobs are gone and everyone is living on a fixed government-provided wage, what’s left? Who still has the ability to generate revenue on their own?

Artists.

Probably not all artists, mind you. There are already computers doing impressive work composing music. And there’s a software in development that creates abstract digital art. Not everyone is going to succeed.

Still, artists are going to have a much better advantage than are those in more traditional fields of employment because what artists do is more difficult to interpret digitally. Artists don’t follow a specific set of rules or steps or procedures to produce a predictable and quantifiable outcome. Artists start from nothing, sometimes without even a clear idea, and create something from that nothing. All that abstract creative and emotional thinking is something AI is least likely to achieve.

Those in the practical arts, such as cosmetologists, estheticians, glassworks, fashion design, and the advanced elements of woodworking and ceramics, are not only going to survive this cataclysmic shift but they are best positioned to survive. The combination of creative artistry with the ability to fulfill a current and on-going demand puts these artists at the very top of the food chain. People who are not working are going to have more time to care about the aesthetics around them and are likely to invest more in looking good.

Fine artists aren’t left out of the equation, though. As the supply of all things AI-manufactured begins to grow, the demand for original, one-of-a-kind pieces is almost certain to grow as well. While AI may take away our jobs and our income, they won’t take away that basic human fallacy of wanting to have something that no one else has. In an economic society where everyone is paid exactly the same, social differentiation takes place along the lines of how one spends that money. Those who invest their money in things no one else has, or can have, become the new “upper class” in this aesthetically driven society.

Visual artists, those creating works that can be touched and possessed are likely to find high demand for their work. We are, after all, creatures of greed. That greed, for better or worse, has driven societies for over two millennia and isn’t going to stop just because the basic income is the same for everyone. Writers are likely to do very well, also, as the ability of AI to capture deep emotions through words is an aspect that may be impossible to duplicate. Actors are likely to do well, though they may find working with robots on the technical aspects of lighting and stage construction rather irritating.

Artificial Intelligence is coming. Combine that with the Internet of Things that looms on the very near horizon and the need for humans to do ordinary, everyday things diminishes dramatically. 2020 seems to be a year many are forecasting to be the first major turning point as driverless cars and fully automated services should be online and functional. Slowly, but surely, the day is coming when employment as we know it now no longer exists.

Unless you’re an artist. For the future, artists rule.

It’s about time.

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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.

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Respect For Being Human
June 1, 2016
charles i. letbetter - respect for being human

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

 

charles i. letbetter - respect for being human

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.

 

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Just For Fun  /  Mythology  /  PotD
A Non-Traditional Wedding
May 31, 2016
charles i. letbetter - a non-traditional wedding

The most dangerous food is wedding cake. —James Thurber

 

charles i. letbetter - a non-traditional wedding

Nothing about a wedding should be traditional. The marriage is new so everything about it should be also.

Tomorrow is June, the official wedding month. Yay. Whoopee. Yawn.

Anyone who knows me understands that I don’t like weddings all that much. I’ll attend them for really close friends, but I don’t like shooting them at all and generally find them to be a giant waste of cash. All a wedding does is reinforce a centuries-old concept of patriarchal society in which women were considered nothing more than property.

That whole walking down the aisle thing? Comes from an ancient tradition of sealing a contract. The seller would walk with whatever was being purchased between the two halves of slaughtered cattle as a symbol that should the seller not be honest and the goods not live up to their promise, the seller would become like the cattle: split in two. If a daughter was being sold, which often happened, she would be walked by her father between the pieces of dead animals. Talk about a bloody wedding! Why in the world would we want to perpetuate that imagery?

Weddings do have a legal advantage, of course, which makes them necessary in more cases than not. That may well change in the future, but for the moment such a reality is in place and even has Kat and I planning a wedding somewhere in the future. While government may demand we legalize our union in order to receive increasingly questionable benefits, we might as well make it a party.

There is no need to keep with the traditional concept of a wedding, though, which is why I have taken the drastic step of becoming a member of the clergy. I kid you not. Here is a copy of my official ordination certificate:

charles i. letbetter - a non-traditional wedding

For those of my older friends who might be confused, yes, I was once-upon-a-time licensed (not ordained) by a Southern Baptist church in Oklahoma, but I’m pretty sure they’ve long since rescinded that particular piece of paper.

The nice thing about being a Dudeist priest is that I can pretty much make shit up as I go. There’s no orthodoxy, no traditions, no commandments, nor any regulations to follow. The ordination is legal in all 50 states, so I can officially perform weddings anywhere and make them as original and non-conformists as is appropriate to the situation. If you want a wedding that defies convention, I’m your man. That’ll be $50 plus airfare and accommodations. Photos are extra; a lot extra.

I understand you may still be skeptical. I would be. So, to help calm your fears (or stoke them even more) here is a copy of the wedding ceremony that I’ve written. That means it’s copyrighted, jerks, so don’t try stealing it. We are gender neutral at the Church of the Latter-Day Dude, so we’re using the terms Spouse A and Spouse B rather than bridge and groom. We really don’t care who takes which role. Here’s the ceremony:

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here with friends, family, and a couple of people no one likes but the couple felt obligated to invite anyway, to unite these crazy love birds, Spouse A and Spouse B, in legal matrimony. If you were looking for Holy matrimony, you hired the wrong Dude.

Spouse A and Spouse B have decided to join their lives and a portion of their worldly possessions together not only for the tax and spousal benefits but because they believe in this crazy little thing called love and were looking for a good excuse to throw a party. It is their hope that this expression of love and sappy sentiment will ignite in each of you a passion for something other than crappy macramè and cheap bottles of wine. 

While marriage itself is a long-standing representation of male domination, both Spouse A and Spouse B are vanilla and kindly ask that you save your rope and ball gags until after the cake has been served. 

Spouse A and Spouse B, you stand here together as a symbol of your acquiescence to social morès and traditions established by people who could not have anticipated the degree of fabulousness you share. In entering this union, the coolness between you also joins, then splits violently like a hydrogen atom creating a romantic energy that will brighten your darkest days, the fallout from which will cause the disenfranchised to wretch slightly at the sight of your public displays of affection. With such incredible power between you, this marriage may well inspire others to write books, or love poems, or at least a documentary for Netflix.

Marriage is not an easy road and many have fallen into the potholes and never been seen nor heard from again because heaven forbid this stupid state spend a dime on infrastructure. You will face many challenges, from trying to remember the date of this auspicious event to trying to not commit murder when you find out Spouse A’s cousin voted for the downfall of the free world. You have to power between you to overcome these challenges. Remember to update your calendar daily and compare family notes before holidays.

The vows you exchange today are not legally binding and are not meant to enslave or unreasonably obligate the other. They are an expression of your commitment to each other at least through the end of the reception. So, will you please join hands and, Spouse A, please repeat after me.

I, Spouse A,
Do take you, Spouse B,
to be my lawfully wedded other
to hold and to snuggle but not too tight
to cherish on the good days
and tolerate on the bad;
when you’re healthy and
when you’re puking;
to listen when you’re correct
and not tease you more than three days when you’re wrong again;
from this day forward until one of us becomes intolerable
or is convicted of a Class A felony.

Spouse B, here’s your equal time. Please repeat after me, loud enough for you mother to hear because she never thought she’d live to see this day.

I, Spouse B,
do take you, Spouse A,
to be my lawfully wedded other
to embrace and to fondle
to celebrate your achievements
and quietly dismiss your failures
not matter how frequent and public they may be;
to remind you to take your meds
and to scream at the insurance rep
when the pharmacist says they’re not covered under our new plan;
from this day forward
until one of us is deported
or becomes mentally incapacitated
and becomes a ward of the state.

That  wasn’t so bad, was it? Now, may I have the fiery brands of ownership, er, I mean, the rings, please? [Receives rings from Best Dude and holds them above his head because no one has ever actually seen rings before.]

These rings that I hold symbolize roundness because no one has ever had square fingers. Rings can be powerful. They can activate the Wonder Twins or grant wishes if inhabited by a genie. Both of these rings seem to be void of any supernatural presence, but they will give you a tan line so that strippers know to give you a fake cell number.

Spouse A, place the ring on Spouse B’s hand and repeat after me:

With this ring
I summon the power of the ancients
that they may bestow upon you
enough cash to pay for the honeymoon.

Spouse B, place the ring on Spouse A’s hand and repeat after me:

With this ring
I call upon the powers of the cosmos
that they may instill upon you
the knowledge to always know when to duck.

That’s it, you’re legally stuck with each other. By the power invested in me by the Church of the Latter-Day Dude and the state of abject horror, I now pronounce you married with all the rights, benefits, and depositions due you. What this Dude has joined together, let no jackass try to split.

Feel free to make out now.

See? Nice, easy, and a hell of a lot shorter than my first wedding. We are more than happy to provide this non-traditional wedding service to all our friends. All we ask is that you give us plenty of time to work out the details. Some states have some really strange laws that require a fair amount of hoop jumping.

You know, you’re not entitled to a copy of your partner’s death certificate if you’re not married. As stupid as that is, there are a number of reasons why you might want to have a non-traditional wedding. Sure, there’s that whole love thing, but even if you just barely tolerate each other you might want to consider giving it a go. Who knows what manner of horrors await us after this next election. You might as well flee the country together, married, just to be safe.

Book your 2017 wedding with us now. You’ll have a whole year to talk yourself out of it. Deposits non-refundable.

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Current Issues  /  PotD
Everyday Patriotism
May 30, 2016
charles i. letbetter - everyday patriotism

I saw courage both in the Vietnam War and in the struggle to stop it. I learned that patriotism includes protest, not just military service. —John F. Kerry

 

charles i. letbetter - everyday patriotism

Patriotism cannot be something limited to a few special days of the year

Budweiser is changing its name to America (though I’ve yet to see any of the new cans in stores). Coca-Cola is adopting new red, white, and blue cans.  Americans never want to be accused of not being patriotic. We take our patriotism seriously, which is why we have days like Memorial Day. We are ingrained from our earliest points of education to appreciate the sacrifices others have made to give us the freedoms we have, even though we abuse those freedoms far too regularly.

Patriotism in the United States isn’t all that different from patriotism in other countries. Nationalism has been a thing around the globe since the mid-19th century. People everywhere wear clothing with representations of their country’s flag on it. Clothes coming from Milan proudly bear the Made in Italy label, and that label actually stands for something. The French are proud not only of their champagne, but their language and its contribution to the global vocabulary. When a Brazillian driver takes the lead at the Indianapolis 500, big green and yellow flags suddenly appear in the infield in a display of nationalistic pride and camaraderie.

Patriotism in the United States, though, may be louder than it is anywhere else. Not only do we find ways to include the red, white, and blue in almost everything, we include patriotic moments in almost all our events, from the singing of the national anthem to color guards and military fly-overs (which are damned impressive). We sing, “God Bless the USA,” and “God Bless America,” with fervor. We respect our troops (most of the time) and thank them for serving. And on special days like Memorial Day, we go out of our way to make sure our patriotism is on display.

Yet, real patriotism is not a sometimes thing. Patriotism doesn’t wait for a holiday or a special event. Patriotism doesn’t require special bunting or a red, white, and blue dress code. Patriotism doesn’t require fireworks or that one even own an American flag. Loving our country is more of an everyday thing, discernable in everyday actions, the way we speak, and the things we do. Being an American is more than celebrating a holiday.

Being in American is being a neighbor and caring for the people around you.

Being a patriot is understanding that we are not just one idea or concept, but a melting pot of many ideas and cultures and concepts, and celebrating those differences.

Patriotism is paying attention to and participating in the political system, not because it works the way we want, but because it fails completely if we don’t.

Being American means standing up to bullies; not only on a national front, but individually against bigots and xenophobes who would harm our fellow citizens.

Patriots understand that just because one has the right to do something does not always make the exhibition of that right appropriate, kind, or just.

Patriotism is standing up and being loud in the face of sexism, gender inequality, homophobia, social inequality, racism, body shaming, and any attempt to put down a fellow American.

Real Americans recognize that our country is far from perfect, that we’ve made some pretty egregious errors in the past, but are committed to not letting those mistakes happen again.

Real patriots don’t allow their elected officials to do nothing, to take more days off then they work, and still retain office.

Patriotism is understanding the power of volunteering, for military service, to support those who serve, to support those who have served, to care for those who return from service with impairments, to assist the families of those who serve, and to make sure no one is left behind even when they can no longer wear a uniform.

Americans do their best to make sure those who serve are not embarrassed by the country they represent, for it is our own actions more than their own that cause them disrespect.

Patriots vote without making excuses.

Patriotism is giving a shit even when everything around you seems to be going to hell in a handbasket.

We’ll see a lot of red, white, and blue today. We’ll see flags waving and numerous displays of nationalistic pride.  But as we celebrate, may we never forget those who sacrificed in battle, those who continue to suffer after returning home, and those who fight, yell, scream, and argue to make sure the number of people who need to make that sacrifice grows smaller every year.

Patriotism is not a once-in-a-while thing. Patriotism is every day.

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Just For Fun  /  Photography
Outside the Indianapolis 500
May 29, 2016
Outside the Indianapolis 500

The Indianapolis 500 is a party that starts long before anyone gets to the actual race.

 

charles i. letbetter - outside the Indianapolis 500

Veteran race-goers know: reserve your parking space in advance, come early, and bring plenty of food.

Today is the 100th running of the greatest spectacle in motorsports: the Indianapolis 500 and we’re right smack in the middle of it. Actually, we’re not in the middle of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway, we’re just outside. If you’re familiar with IMS, you know there’s a 40-acre parking lot on the North side of the track: the North 40. Half-way up that lot, on the East side, is a gate. We are across the street from that gate.

Parking cars on the lawns in our neighborhood is a long-standing tradition. People who have been attending the Indianapolis 500 for years have strong relationships with homeowners around here and like to park in the same places each year. They have our phone numbers and call sometimes several weeks in advance to make sure that they can secure their favorite spot on our lawn. This year, demand has been especially high. It is just after 9:00 AM as I’m typing this and already every available space on our lawn is either full or reserved. The same holds true for most our neighbors.

Of course, when people get here this far ahead of the race, which isn’t scheduled to start this year until 12:19 PM, one looks for ways to pass the time. Many tailgate. Some reserve extra space so they can sit and chat with friends and family. Some play games. There is always plenty of activity outside the gates right up until roughly 30 minutes before the Indianapolis 500 gets underway.

All that activity makes for great people watching any year, but this year it is especially entertaining. So, we’re taking a few pictures during the day and posting them a few at a time. Understand, we don’t actually know any of these people. If you see someone you recognize and they were supposed to be somewhere else today, that’s not our fault.

The Indianapolis 500 is a unique race simply because of its size and spectacle. We can’t go in but we can show you all the fun happening outside.

Before The Race:

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AFTER THE RACE

Once the race is over, the rush is on to get to the car and get out as quickly as possible. Of course, “quickly” is a subjective term. Some do best to take their time and let the alcohol burn off a bit. Some have difficulty finding their party while others are pretty sure they are the party. Any way you look at it, though, the effects of being out in the sun are evident on everyone who passed. As you’re looking through the photos, be sure to check the faces in the background as well. Sometimes those we didn’t focus on were more entertaining. We avoided the worst, though. There were a few who, while they would have been easy prey for the camera, were so drunk and/or dehydrated that taking their picture would have been a bit cruel. I’m sure they’re suffering enough this morning without waking up and finding their drunken selves on the Internet. We also tossed in a few pictures of some of the mess people leave behind. The Coke lot always gets trashed the worse, but I didn’t want to walk all the way down there.

Again, if you see someone you know, tag them and let them know you found them being silly, or angry, or shoving a whole water bottle in their mouth (not kidding, it’s in there). It was an exciting race with a lot of interesting people.

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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.

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