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Current Issues  /  PotD  /  Social Commentary
In Others’ Words
July 8, 2016
charles i. letbetter - in others' words

No matter what people tell you, words and ideas can change the world. —Robin Williams

 

charles i. letbetter - in others' words

I no longer have words to express all the emotions over events of this week. Perhaps others can communicate more clearly.

Words are insufficient.

If anything, talking seems meaningless at this point. As I’m typing, police operations are still ongoing in Dallas. Five police officers are dead. Five others and one civilian are injured. The attack was planned, calculated, and carried out by people with experience. There may still be bombs planted in a parking garage. Downtown Dallas remains on lockdown.

There is much we still don’t know, but there are a few things that seem certain at this juncture:

  • The #BlackLiveMatter protest was peaceful and even friendly up to this point
  • The murders of Alton Sterling and Philandro Castile influenced but do not justify this event
  • Hate gained a foothold that will not easily knock loose.

I am angry. I am heartbroken. I am distressed. I have never been more ashamed of the United States than I am at this moment. 130 years after the end of the Civil War, we should be past this, but we’re not. In the aftermath of that war, we allowed hate to persist. Across the whole 19th century, we allowed hate to affect how laws were drafted, how social rules were established, and how voting lines were drawn. We could have stopped it all, but we didn’t. Now, we reap the horrible consequences.

So Many Words

In the past 24 hours, the Internet has exploded with words, memes, and pictures. Among the moist poignant was a child holding a sign outside the school where Philandro Castile worked as a food service supervisor. The sign related how “Phil” helped this special needs child make sure he had time to  eat and make it to class on time. Another picture showed a child holding a sign relating how “Phil” helped him make good food choices. Yet, this same man was shot by police in cold blood.

Someone pointed out on Twitter that after the Orlando shooting gun advocates said those in the club should have carried guns. Yet, Alton Sterling was shot because he was carrying a gun. I’m curious to see if those same gun advocates will support the right of the Dallas snipers to possess what had to have been some form of high-powered rifle.

None of the people who have died this week deserved that fate. Not Alton Sterling. Not Philandro Castile. None of the Dallas police officers. Yet, for whom will justice be served? Anyone?

Other Voices

I can no longer wrap my head around what is happening. I’m leaving for a few days. We had already planned a camping trip for this weekend and unless there are intervening circumstances in the next few hours, we’re still going. We need a break from the insanity sweeping across the United States. I will post articles both days, but they won’t be related to this horrible mess. I just don’t have the words, or the heart, to continue this conversation.

So, I’m giving you the words of people who better express their reactions to this week. Please note that all these comments were made prior to the shooting in Dallas, but that does not mitigate their importance at all. Some are the words of leaders. Others are the words of friends. And while I know you generally don’t like clicking links you find here, where you see a “More” link, please click it and continue reading. The words are important.

Don’t offer prayers because you’ve been praying my entire life and look what good it’s done. Don’t offer your thoughts, either.  Offer action based not on anger, but on compassion. I am convinced that is the only way we survive.

Update: 11:00 AM EDT- President Obama’s remarks on Dallas have been added.

President Obama

Congressman John Lewis

Earlier yesterday, Congressman Lewis posted his mug shot from Parchman Penitentiary after being arrested in Jackson, Mississippi for using a so-called “white” restroom. Of all the members of Congress, Mr. Lewis has a unique perspective of what it is like to stand up to brutality and injustice. His words carry weight white Congress members can never lift.

Congressman André Carson

Mr. Carson’s perspective is also unique. Not only is he black, he is also Muslim and a former police officer.  Click through and read all his words.

Mark Zuckerberg

The immediate aftermath of the shooting of Philandro Castile was broadcast live on Facebook. His words demonstrate how technology is a tool against injustice.

Abdul-Shaheed Aaron

Mr. Aaron is a colleague here in Indianapolis. A few years ago, he was attacked while walking back to his car after a shoot. All his gear was stolen and he was gravely injured. He understands the fear. Listen to his words.

 

Syretta Bell

Syretta may be my all-time favorite makeup artist. The work she does is exquisite. Her words as a black woman are worth heeding.

Jubilation Lee

She’s a single mom who works hard to take care of her kids and raise them to be respectable people. The parallel she draws is a kick to the gut. Yeah, we’re at a point where such a reference is legitimate.

Beyoncè

The singer posted this message on her website yesterday. The words are stirring.

At the end of it all, we have some decisions to make. What happens over the course of the next three days could change the United States forever. We can choose compassion or we can choose hate. We’ve had enough words. We need change.

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PotD  /  Social Commentary
Freedom To Chill
July 4, 2016
charles i. letbetter - freedom to chill

People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use. —Soren Kierkegaard

 

charles i. letbetter

Eschewing all the seriousness afforded this day, let’s celebrate the fact our lives are not horrid

Happy Independence Day, United States! My, but we do love our 4th of July celebrations. Fireworks, parades, bands, families, and cookouts are all part of the tradition. We also have a tendency to wax philosophical on this day. Look around the Internet and you’ll find dozens of essays on freedom. Some quote the Declaration of Independence: “When in the course of human events …” Others quote the preamble to the Constitution: “We the people, of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union …” Plenty discuss responsibility and many honor the sacrifice of those who have fallen.

All of those topics are well and appropriate for the day. I have no problem with the topics themselves, but at this point in my life, I’ve heard those topics run into the ground. One would have to be masterfully eloquent to keep my attention very long.

I understand the responsibilities of being an American. I appreciate the sacrifice of those who served and are serving (we’ll be talking with our Marine later this morning). The part of being an American I have difficulty doing is what many of you seem to do so well: sit back and relax. I can sit and try to watch a movie, but it is difficult to not have my phone in my hand. There’s also the matter of keeping the kids and the animals from destroying the house. One does not just sit and chill in this house without some effort. Where is that freedom thing, again?

Freedom To Not Work All The Time

Please note the qualifier in that heading. I’m not saying there is a freedom to be a lazy bum that sponges off society. Few people in our society actually milk us for our generosity. A majority of people who receive some form of federal assistance are employed, but still earn less than the $1000 a month income cap on assistance. But everyone who works needs a break. We look forward to our weekends, our vacations, and our federal holidays. While we may work hard, the US still has a party mentality that celebrates those moments when we’re not working.

Except, I can’t do it. You’re reading the results. Despite the fact that it’s a holiday, I’m sitting here in the wee hours of the morning doing research and writing. Kat always suggests that I just rerun a previous article on days like today. Certainly, I have the freedom to do that and give myself the day off. I can’t bring myself to do it, though. I have to get up to walk the dog, anyway, and as tired as I am, I feel obligated to sit down and create at least one new article every day.

Keeping busy is a point of anxiety for me. I need to be doing something all the time. Even things that should be relaxing, such as grilling out or entertaining friends becomes work for me. Still, I think of the garment workers in Bangladesh who work 80+ hours a week, live in cramped dorms provided by their employers, and rarely see their families. They do not have the freedom to not work. They have no choice. No matter how busy I make my life, I am still better off because I have the freedom to stop if/when I wish.

Freedom To Improve

We are all far from perfect. There is a lot we don’t know, even though there are books written on almost every topic imaginable. Fortunately, we have the freedom to improve. We can read. We can take specialized classes. We can even go back to school and get a degree completely different from anything we’ve done before. While perfection may always elude us, we have the freedom to make ourselves a little less imperfect.

An important part of that improvement is the freedom to read anything we want. I read with interest this week how what we read matters in our brain development, even as adults. Those who involve themselves with “deep reading,” such as academic journals, non-fiction, poetry, and literary fiction, hold advantages over those who only read online or mass-market fiction. Deep reading synchronizes the communication areas of our brain. As a result, we speak better, write better, and are more articulate in our conversation with others.

I remember hearing in school how children in the former Soviet Union were given tests at an early age that determined  their eventual occupation. They were trained to a level of proficiency in that occupation and that was it. Improvement was limited and opportunities were few. I am thankful we have the freedom to make ourselves better.

Freedom To Love

We’ve had to fight for this one and there are still many places across the US where loving whomever you choose to love is challenging. The freedom to love, though, has grown tremendously over the past two years and shows no sign of letting up. Part of that whole being able to chill and relax thing is dependent, at least in part, on being with people you love. This is why families get together on holidays such as this.

Loving is important and understanding why we love the ways we do deepens and enhances our ability to love. At least, I think it does. There is a book by Skye Cleary called Existentialism and Romantic Love  that I highly recommend. In the book, Cleary considers all the various webs of relationships into which we’re born. She explores the complexities of loving and being with others and how that affects our place in the world. After reading the book, I’m fairly sure there are even more areas of love we have yet to explore.

Not everyone is so fortunate, though. There are still too many places where LGBT relationships carry a death sentence. There are too many places where young women are not allowed to choose their own mate. The freedom to love is a relatively new concept for the entire world. We should celebrate that we are here to appreciate and take advantage of the progress.

Freedom To Be Entertained

I don’t watch a lot of television, but it’s there when I choose it.  We don’t go out to a lot of movies or shows, but they’re there when we want them. We have more entertainment options than we have time. There are even places you can download or stream movies legally.  We are inundated with the freedom to escape reality for as long as we need.

Entertainment is a critical part of our lifestyle and our ability to chill on weekends such as this. Whether we’re taking in live music or binging on Netflix, our entertainment choices give us the opportunity to set aside all the worry and stress that threatens to kill us. Some of us are good with an hour or so a day. Others need a bit more. Plenty of people even sleep with their televisions blaring away at them. While a danger of slothfulness is worth watching, that we have such freedom is exceptional to this time and place in history.

I plan to try very, very hard to chill the rest of the day. I want to enjoy that freedom, maybe take a nap, sing songs with my 18-year-old, or enjoy a cup of coffee with Kat. Thousands of men and women died for this freedom, after all. Even the lesser freedoms are worth celebrating. So light up a cigar if you’re so inclined, fill a glass of scotch if you have it, and let’s enjoy the day.

Happy Birthday, America. Thank you for the gift of that freedom to chill.

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Mythology  /  PotD  /  studio nudes
Everything Is Temporary
July 3, 2016

One can have many regrets in life, but they are temporary. There are lessons to learn from every mistake. —Jeev Milkha Singh

 

charles i. letbetter - everything is temporary

Everything that exists has a beginning and an end. Nothing lasts forever.

When I looked out the window a moment ago, the sky in the East was a dark, brilliant pink. Now, it is just gray. Rain is coming and while it might be problematic for those with outdoor plans it’s nature is to pass over us and be gone. My youngest son is here but only for a month.  As much as I would like him to stay, his visit is temporary. He must return home in time for school.

At the center of most every major belief system is the concept that everything that exists, has existed, or will exist on this planet and throughout the universe is temporary. Things are planted, grow, and then wither. People are born, live their lives, and then die. Stars in the sky burst into being, burn bright, then implode upon themselves. Everything is temporary.

Not that everything reaches its demise within the same time frame. The 1971 James Bond movie Diamonds Are Forever works on the premise that diamonds are valuable because of their strength and permanence. However, while the erosion of a diamond may not be something observable within the span of a human lifetime, even they do eventually dissolve like Jill St. John’s career.

Being Temporary Is Good

Permanence is overrated. Some people want to live forever, but if life is not temporary then neither is the pain and suffering that accompanies it. Some people want great buildings of architectural importance preserved in perpetuity. Yet, with the crumbling or demolition of the old comes the opportunity to create new, perhaps better and more functional buildings.

When  we regard something as permanent, we immediately devalue that object or idea because we assume that it will always be there. Many times, when I was younger, I stood by the grave of a deceased parent as their adult children mourned that they did not spend more time with them. “I thought they would always be there,” is the cry of many who were neglectful because they did not appreciate the temporary nature of life. We think towns and cities last forever, but they don’t. Mountains and oceans are temporary, even as they’re always changing and adapting.

The temporal nature of the universe is important because it allows us to appreciate what is here now.  While we might miss certain items and aspects and people from the past, knowing that our life here is temporary provides us with some motivation. We focus our attention on those things we might lose. As we realize that everything is temporary, we appreciate more of what is around us. Even our lives earn greater respect as we consider our temporary nature.

Appreciating Life

While we inherently know that life is temporary, we don’t always realize just how short it might be. Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department (IMPD) posted the account of a tragic shooting that occurred yesterday. A large extended family had gathered to celebrate the life of a deceased loved one. As family members were standing outside a home, an apparently unrelated person walked up and started shooting. There was no apparent provocation. At this point, there’s no evidence that the shooter knew anyone in the family. He shot three people. One died on the scene. One died a couple of hours later at the hospital. A three-year-old remains in critical but stable condition from being shot in the hand. Life is just that temporary.

At the same time, though, Nobel Peace Prize winner Elie Wiesel was 87 when he died this week. While he outlived most his peers, he understood the temporary nature of life. His mother, his father, and his younger sister all died at Auschwitz. The temporal reality of their lives and others he knew motivated him to write his award-winning biography Night. That book brought the horrors of the holocaust to life and emphasized the value of all life.

Without death constantly lurking, would we appreciate the lives we have? Almost inevitably, we would take greater risks, indulge in things that are harmful, and worry less about the danger our actions might bring to others. If we had no fear of death, would we have any compassion for others at all? That life is temporary keeps us focused. Knowing our days are numbered pushes us to do things now rather than later. Our actions are kept in check and we have greater compassion for others because life is temporal.

Government Comes To An End

Earlier  this morning, I was reading an article by David Van Reybrouck on “Why Elections Are Bad For Democracy.” He makes the argument that the concept of one person/one vote is flawed because not every voter is intelligent or necessarily thoughtful in the way we vote. Such a deficiency leads to harmful results, such as the Brexit, because it is falsely assumed that Britain leaving the European Union was the will of the people. He argues for something called Sortition, selecting legislators by well-managed lottery. The advantage would presumably be that those who are inherently unqualified would not be elected.

Others are willing to consider even changing our very form of government. In a Gallup survey done last year, 47% of Americans said they would consider voting for a socialist. Stil,l others would happily vote for a totalitarian who would provide hard-line consistency in government over a prolonged period.

As we celebrate our independence from British rule this weekend, now is a good time to consider that democracy as we know it is temporary. As our current system becomes increasingly dysfunctional, dramatic changes to that system become inevitable. What we celebrate now may not exist 20 years in the future.

Awareness And Contemplation

If all that exists is temporary, then how are we to respond? Do we live in fear of our inevitable demise or do we seize each day and look to make it count? Do we consider how our actions might make existence even more temporary for other lives, other economies, or other cultures? Do we contemplate anything at all?

As we become more aware of our temporal nature, we realize we must do the most with what we have. There is no time worth wasting. If we are to create, we must create now. If we  are to show compassion, we must show compassion now. If we are to revel in the love of another, we must love that person now.

My late mother endured many turbulent periods during her life and not all of them were handled well. She was fond of saying, though, that, “this, too, shall pass.” She understood that nothing, even the bad days and bad circumstances were going to last forever. She embraced that which is temporary. Perhaps we should do more of the same.

Let us dance in the rain. Let us love unconditionally. Let us live the fullest of lives now.

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Music  /  PotD  /  video
Music You Can’t Share With Kids
July 2, 2016
charles i. letbetter - music you can't share with the kids

I feel happy to terrify kids. —R. L. Stine

 

charles i. letbetter- don't let the kids watch

The law says you have to protect your kids from porn, but it doesn’t say anything about music videos

For most kids, their first taste of music comes from their parents. They hear what we play on the radio or our phones. We casually fire up our playlists while we do work around the house and don’t give a second thought to what our children are hearing.

Kids love music. Any music. They don’t care what  the words mean. Last year, Little Man’s kindergarten class learned the Jackson Five’s ABC for their graduation program. You think that’s going to be cute until you hear the words coming out of your six-year-old kid’s mouth:

Shake it, shake it, baby, come on now!
Shake it, shake it, baby, ooh ooh!
Shake it shake it, baby, huh!
One, two, three, baby, ooh ooh!
ABC, baby, nah nah!
Do re mi, baby, huh!
That’s how easy love can be.

And then their little booty starts shaking and you damn near fall out of your seat from laughing so hard. You know the kids don’t have a clue that they’re singing about sex. Right now, it’s cute and funny. But then you hear them using the same language with each other. When little boys start demanding that little girls stand up and “shake it” for them, it’s time for some lessons in how to talk to people.

So, we took a look at some of the newest music videos released this week. All are bound to be chart toppers. Take a look, though, and think: is this something you can share with your kids?

Rihanna

Let’s start with the mildest video of the set. Rihanna’s Sledgehammer, which just dropped a couple of days ago, is part of the soundtrack for the next Star Trek movie, which I assume is due later this fall. Kids can probably watch this one and be okay. All the sensuality is muted and preserved in the subtleties of the video. In fact, this  is probably the most dressed Rihanna has been for a video in quite a while. The lyrics are what will get you, though. Take a look.

Where to Watch Music Videos | Vevo Originals

Vevo is the world’s leading music video network. Watch music videos on your favorite apps, streaming services, and devices, including YouTube, Apple TV, Roku, Samsung TV Plus, Fire TV, and more.

Fifth Harmony, ft. Fetty Wap

Five attractive young women, in swimwear, on a beach. Both the song and the video are sexy from top to bottom. However, while the sensuality is aggressive and the video frequently gets in the way of the music, it’s still at a level that most kids are likely to ignore the sexy and get more into the rhythm of the music and the bright colors. That is, until Fetty Wap chimes in. Say some of those words around the wrong person and you’ll be picking your little ass up off the floor. Some are already touting this as the song of the summer, though. Best get familiar with it now.

Where to Watch Music Videos | Vevo Originals

Vevo is the world’s leading music video network. Watch music videos on your favorite apps, streaming services, and devices, including YouTube, Apple TV, Roku, Samsung TV Plus, Fire TV, and more.

Nick Jonas

Your kids are going to listen to this song and, hopefully, not have a clue what Nick means by the phrase, “under you.” There are also subtleties to the video that seem to infer a level of domestic violence. The imagery in this one could be rough for kids whose parents fight a lot. For adults, it’s just another breakup song, though, if his only regret is that he didn’t get to have sex with the girl then it’s probably a good thing they broke up. For kids, though, there is a lot here that might require some explanation when they start repeating it back to you.

Where to Watch Music Videos | Vevo Originals

Vevo is the world’s leading music video network. Watch music videos on your favorite apps, streaming services, and devices, including YouTube, Apple TV, Roku, Samsung TV Plus, Fire TV, and more.

Niykee Heaton ft. Migos

I really hesitated about including this one. There is a form of implied violence throughout this video that reflects the same kind of violence we see too often among inner-city teens. Toss in Niykee’s good looks dressed in little more than a swimsuit, and one can understand why forecasts for this song are pretty strong. There is a particular audience with which this song is going to resonate well. However, the video is not for  kids. We can excuse much of the song as it talks around the topics rather than directly at them. When the first image one sees, though, is an automatic weapon, and gunshots are among the final sounds, one has to question whether this video is unnecessarily promoting a culture of violence that our country doesn’t need.  Proceed with caution on this one.

Where to Watch Music Videos | Vevo Originals

Vevo is the world’s leading music video network. Watch music videos on your favorite apps, streaming services, and devices, including YouTube, Apple TV, Roku, Samsung TV Plus, Fire TV, and more.

Fergie

We saved the sexiest for last. Fergie’s latest solo release will hit number one on the charts. Fortunately, there’s a radio edit and if your kids hear the song that’s the version that’s likely to tickle their ears. However, Fergie’s never been a shy one and she drops enough f-bombs to recapture every remaining Daesh stronghold in Syria. Why is it that kids pick up the word “fuck” so easily and quickly? It doesn’t even matter if they never hear a parent say the word. Fuck is part of the first-grade vocabulary whether anyone likes it or not. This song is not going to help that matter at all.

I must say that I love a lot of the pin-up style costuming used in the video. The bright colors and over-the-top styling are quite artistic. Much of the look here reminds me of Christina Aguilera’s Candy Man video. This is much hotter than Xtina’s take on the era. If one is concerned about a child’s body image, this may not be a video they need to  see. Adults will love it, but kids are going to ask a lot of questions. Be prepared

Where to Watch Music Videos | Vevo Originals

Vevo is the world’s leading music video network. Watch music videos on your favorite apps, streaming services, and devices, including YouTube, Apple TV, Roku, Samsung TV Plus, Fire TV, and more.

Your Call

I’m certainly not one to make valid parenting suggestions. From an adult perspective, all these videos are about as sexy as they can get without turning to porn. They’re a pleasure to watch and to hear. I know we have trouble keeping adult words and phrases out of the mouths of our kids, and I’m guessing ours aren’t much different than yours. How you deal with the music and the videos are your business. You know what’s best for your family. Exercise caution as you see fit.

And meanwhile, we’ll be over here dancing.

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Advertising  /  Social Commentary  /  video
Awareness You Can’t Escape
July 1, 2016
charles i. letbetter - awareness you can't escape

The ultimate value of life depends upon awareness and the power of contemplation rather than upon mere survival. —Aristotle

 

charles i. letbetter - awareness you can't escape

Awareness sometimes requires cultivation. Other times, one cannot escape it.

Awareness is a state of consciousness, the point at which we realize something exists and are able to understand that existence, at least, in part. Sometimes, awareness has to be carefully cultivated. Physics, for example, holds various levels of awareness, the deepest of which only come with intense learning. Other matters, however, are more straightforward, perhaps even blunt. All one needs to know in order to respond appropriately can be said in a matter of seconds. Fire, for example, is hot. Even a baby understands after the briefest experience that fire is hot.

Every day, we develop more awareness. Perhaps we see a new store or read a new book. Maybe we have a conversation with a friend. Everything we do has the potential to increase our awareness. Even watching commercials.

Each year, at Cannes, the best advertising campaigns are presented and given awards based upon the quality of work. Some do an amazing job of selling a product. Others blaze new trails in technological innovation. What always strikes the hardest, though, are those that create awareness. These are the ads that make you stop and think, and give you information that leads you to act, become involved, and begin conversations.

Of this year’s winners in the film and film craft categories, four gold winners did an amazing job at creating awareness. I want to share those with you. Watch each one and let them change you.

Make Love, Not Scars

Acid. The word immediately raises warnings of danger for most teens and adults. While there are many legitimate uses for acid, however, one of the most frequent is as a weapon of personal destruction. We don’t see as many acid attacks in the United States. Awareness is low because it is usually treated as a felony assault and handled through local justice systems. Elsewhere in the world, however, acid attacks are devastating. In countries were various forms of acid are sold openly and are easily obtainable, acid attacks are a common form of personal vendetta. Most of the victims are women. Many victims are under the age of 18.

Ogilvy & Mather Mumbai created the following piece to raise awareness of this horrible issue. Incidents involving acid attacks are growing, but governments are doing little to stop them. The piece is short. Please watch. If you are inclined to investigate further, please visit Acid Survivors Foundation.

 

Never Alone

For many gay people, coming out to one’s family and friends is one of the most frightening experiences of their lives. One can never be quite certain how people might respond. Will they be accepting? Will they be angry? Will this be the end of relationships?

If one is captain of the Wales national rugby team, that fear is overwhelming. Rugby is a tough sport, one of those games allegedly created for and played by only the manliest of men. Gareth Thomas faced that fear. What he discovered, however, was that he was part of a team that had his back, no matter what anyone said. With millions of fans, there were inevitably some who didn’t understand. Still, the team supported Gareth and they continued to win games.

Guinness sponsored the award-winning film piece developed by AMV BBDO London and produced by Stink London. There’s no mention of beer here, though. No one goes out and has a pint at the end. Instead, the emphasis is on the power of a team, supporting those whose lifestyles are often vilified and misunderstood. Everyone who comes out as gay, lesbian, bi, or transgender needs a team behind them. Be part of the team. The version that won the award is below. You can watch Gareth’s full story here.

https://youtu.be/rBOTKSQ89M8

Manboobs

Censorship on social media is severe. Most apps assume that anything on your computer or especially on your phone is accessible to minors. Argue all you want, I know all too well how difficult it is to keep sensitive materials away from little hands and prying eyes. Once children reach a certain age, the more one tries to deter them the more determined they are to see what’s there.

However, that censorship becomes a complete pain in the ass for organizations trying to raise awareness for things such as, oh, let’s say breast cancer. Talking about breast cancer becomes exceptionally difficult when one can’t show real breasts. How does an organization teach women how to check for lumps, an extremely important form of early detection, if they can’t show breasts?

Some brilliant minds at the David agency in Buenos Aires came up with a creative way to address those problems for an Argentinian awareness and support organization, MACMA. The spot comes with a bit of humor but is also extremely informative. Viewers are then encouraged to make their own video. If you care to do so, let me know. We’ll be happy to help.

https://youtu.be/Ais88Os_CTg

Dear Daddy

Our final piece hits really, really close to home. Until I had a daughter of my own, I didn’t think much about the vocabulary I used and tolerated from others. I didn’t give as much thought to what might be harmful. In watching and helping Tippy grow, I’ve learned that even the most innocuous, unintentional things we do and say truly matter.

We are moderately aware to the sensitive nature of body image. However, this piece developed for Care, Norway, raises awareness to a whole new level by putting it in terms that are inescapable. Just imagine if your unborn daughter could write you a letter. This short film is one of the most moving pieces I’ve ever encountered.

Conceptual credit goes to ad agency Schjaerven Reklamebyrå and production company Tangrystan, both of Oslo. I dare you to watch this film and not be moved. If you’re a daddy, or about to become one, I dare you to not cry.

The majority of ads are not all that serious. The majority of ads aren’t worth our time. These four, though, hit us with an awareness we need. There is no escape. You have now been enlightened. Go, enlighten others.

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Advertising  /  Art  /  Fashion  /  Photography
Goodbye, June 2016
June 30, 2016
charles i. letbetter - goodbye June 2016

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

 

charles i. letbetter - goodbye june 2016

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

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

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

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

Pictures You Might Have Missed

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

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Current Issues  /  PotD  /  Social Commentary
No, You Do Not Understand
June 29, 2016
charles i. letbetter - no you do not understand

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

 

charles i. letbetter - no you don't understand

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

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

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

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

Starting With An Open Mind

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

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

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

Understand We Have A Problem

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

While whites generally recognize that blacks are treated less fairly in legal matters, especially those involving police, their perception of inequalitycharles i. letbetter - no you do not understand in more normal, everyday activities, such as applying for a loan or mortgage, at work, or when shopping or dining out
is skewed. Blacks understand the inequality of those situations because they experience the inequality of those situations. Whites, on the other hand, are blissfully unaware of the struggle blacks face simply trying to do the same things everyone else does.

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

Politics Blur Our Vision

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

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

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

Understand We Must Move Forward

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

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

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

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

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Music  /  pop culture  /  PotD
Unfriended, Bothered, and Bewildered
June 28, 2016
charles i. letbetter - unfriended, bothered and bewildered

You don’t need to have Asperger’s to feel bewildered in a culture that relies so heavily on inconsequential chit-chat to grease the wheels of day-to-day life. —Lynn Coady

 

charles i. letbetter - unfriended, bothered, and bewildered

We don’t like admitting that Facebook relationships matter, but being unfriended by a friend leaves one hurt and bewildered. Is this serious?

Wise at last
My eyes at last
Are cutting you down to your size at last
Bewitched, bothered and bewildered no more
—Lorenz Hart

Those words, which appear late in the familiar song, keep going through my head this morning as I look through my Facebook feed. I’ve always found it interesting how emotions and events move in waves across my friends list. If one gets sick, at least a dozen more will do the same, even though they are not only unacquainted but don’t even live in the same region of the planet. If one has a baby (or grandbaby, more frequently), then I’ll start seeing baby pics from twenty different people.

What leaves me bewildered a bit, though (and I’m using that word a lot today), is when mass unfriending happens. We seem to be riding that wave at the moment. I’ve seen seven people allude to either unfriending or being unfriended in the past twenty-four hours. Each one has two things in common: they were “breakups” with someone they’d known a long time, and the split was over socio-political issues. Emotions ranged between anger, sadness, and resignation. With each, though, they were bewildered that they could know someone for so long and just now hit a topic of such severe disagreement as to part ways.

Unfriend or Unlike

I’ll admit that I rarely unfriend someone. I might unfollow them so that their all-too-frequent posts don’t clog my newsfeed, but I reserve unfriending for either blocking the rare person who is a complete asshole or weeding the list of people with whom I share no interest or relationship. Few people ever argue with me on a topic, which I appreciate. My need to unfriend someone is quite rare.

Neither am I someone who feels a need to “collect” friends. I am bewildered by those who do. I don’t understand the so-called advantage to having 5,000 friends one doesn’t know. The way Facebook limits who sees your posts changes so frequently that the only sure way to communicate with  someone is through private message. On other social media platforms, one’s reach is more of a pure numbers game, so having high numbers of followers makes sense.  Facebook doesn’t work the same way, though.

At the beginning of 2015, I did something drastic. I culled my friends list by a thousand people and started a professional page. My hope was to direct more professional contacts, such as models, makeup artists, stylists, photographers, etc., to that location so that I could be more personal on my personal page. Plan backfired. Not everyone got the message about the professional page. Not everyone cared. Roughly 800 of those unfriended stayed that way. Bewildered? Yes, totally. I don’t “get” this whole unfriend and unlike scenario.

Oh, But There’s Science

After seeing all the talk about unfriending, I thought I’d check and see if there was anything close to real research about on the topic. I wouldn’t have been too surprised to find nothing. After all, the whole concept of unfriending someone, even the word, has only been in the global lexicon about seven years. Proper studies take time.

What I found was a couple of studies done at the University of Colorado that were published in 2014. Christopher Sibona, a doctoral student, was the research behind both studies. He looked at 1,700 cases and came up with some interesting results. First, there’s the matter of who we unfriend in the first place:

  • high school friends;
  • other;
  • friend of a friend;
  • work friends;
  • common interest friends.

Look at that very top result. High school friends. Why do we unfriend high school friends? Because our opinions have changed, matured, and become more deeply rooted. We are more likely to defend our positions after 10-20 years than we were back in high school. I’m starting to feel a little less bewildered by the whole thing.

How Does That Make You Feel

What may be the stronger study, though, is how one feels after being unfriended. You’re in a heated conversation with someone, and suddenly, they’re gone. You check, and you’ve been unfriended. Ouch! That hurts!

Or does it? Sibona’s study found four core factors for predicting someone’s response to being unfriended. You might respond negatively (sadness, disappointment, or anger) if the other person was a close friend, or if you monitor your friends list constantly. You might respond positively (relief, amusement) if differences were discussed both prior to and after the act of unfriending.

Equally interesting in this study is that the unfriending is more likely to occur with someone to whom one was once close. Those are the people with whom we are more comfortable engaging in deep conversation. Thus, we are more likely to find areas of severe difference.

More Unfriending To Come

One of the things we learned from the last presidential election is that as political tensions become more severe the number of severed social media relationships go up. There’s no reason to expect this year’s election season to be any different. The candidates themselves are about as polarizing as two people possibly can be. Political sentiment and a deep feeling of frustration have more people talking about the election and its related issues than ever before.

We have some decisions to make. Which is more important to you, maintaining a friendship with someone who is philosophically opposite of you, or holding firm to your position? I suppose, to some extent, that the exact issue on which one disagrees plays into that decision.

Perhaps we take old friendships too seriously. After all, one can’t expect people to stay the same forever. Should we really be surprised when someone 300 miles away decides the online connection is no longer worth the frustration?

At the same time, the answer may lie in being more compassionate with those who don’t see things the way we do. Even though we differ on very serious matters, are they not still our brothers and sisters in the universal sense? Maybe we can find that seed of love within us and share that rather than our differing opinions.

Don’t be bewildered by being unfriended. We are all different people with different experiences. Let each one go their own path. We’ll all have less stress for doing so.

 

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Peace Eludes Us For A Reason
June 27, 2016
charles i. letbetter - peace eludes us for a reason

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

 

charels i. letbetter - peace eludes us for a reason

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

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

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

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

Some Get It Right

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

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

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

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

Reaching Even Deeper

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

Probably the best use of my time this weekend was watching and listening to His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibetan Buddhism during his visit to Indianapolis. That over 6,400 people were in attendance speaks to how many people are struggling along a path toward ultimate peace and tranquility. The Dalai Lama’s words were often mixed with humor, but his instructions were strong.

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

Getting There From Here

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

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

Knowing Where To Start

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

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

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

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

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

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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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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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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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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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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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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  /  Photography
All About The Pictures
May 31, 2016
charles i. letbetter - dance or protest

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

 

charles i. letbetter - dance or protest

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

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

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

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

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

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Just For Fun  /  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  /  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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PotD  /  Status
Frustrating Frustrations
May 25, 2016

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

 

charles i. letbetter - frustrating frustrations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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