Out from The Wild - Political Ambiguity

I didn't have a camera when this story took place, but I still have my tent (pictured).  I'm sure my Mom remembers when I showed up at a wedding and camped out in the park across the street from the hotel where everyone else was staying.  On another note, I was amazed going through our pictures on how many of them there were with Laura holding our dog Sam.
 

It was late October in Northern Colorado and I was squatting in my tent up Poudre Canyon, near Ft Collins Colorado.   The nights were getting colder and I wasn’t sleeping well.  One part of me wanted to go to sleep, but another part of me was afraid of what might happen if I did.  I knew that I had to move indoors or head south if I wanted to continue waking up in the morning.

These days my wrinkled, bifocaled eyes see things a little better.  I actually had more options than moving indoors or heading south.  The options were actually all indoors, but ones I hadn’t considered.  I could’ve shown up at the door of family or friends (don’t be surprised when it happens next summer J ) I could’ve also gone home, but I didn’t want to even consider it.  I just couldn’t bear to show my Dad that I couldn’t make it on my own.   Today, I understand better why he was so hard on all of us (except Carol who turned out fine anyway).  His purpose for demanding high standards was to best prepare us for a tough world.

I remember standing at the front door of Columbine Products in the early morning darkness. I was shuffling my duct-taped tennis shoes back and forth to keep warm as the owner, Mr. Charles “Charley” Warren, arrived to start his day.    Charley was the second shrewdest businessman I’ve ever encountered.   He never wasted anything, never missed an opportunity, and would fight to the death over a penny.  I don’t think a week ever passed where I didn’t hear him complain about government regulation, particularly OSHA and the minimum wage.  For all his complaining, I’m convinced he was following the letter of the law and sincerely cared about the safety of his employees.  If it wasn’t for his honesty and compassion, I’m certain he could’ve easily been the shrewdest.
 

At the time, I didn’t care much for Charley and I don’t think he thought much of me.   For the previous few weeks, I’d been gathering pine cones and selling them to his factory to make Christmas wreaths.   Our negotiations didn’t have a friendly tone and it’s difficult to present a positive personal image when you’re living outdoors.  Since Charley already had all the pine cones needed for the season, I was there looking for a job.

Before he even opened the factory door, Charley told me that he’d try me out for two weeks and keep me employed through the middle of December if I worked out.  He told me to show up at the same time the next day in work boots and even offered to advance me the cost.  I politely declined his offer.  I had a few dollars put away.  Regardless, I’d have gone hungry before taking his money.

At the time, I held political beliefs that’d make Ron Paul look like a liberal.  I was certain that laziness and/or stupidity were the only reasons people fail in life.  I’d never applied for financial assistance to help out with school or made an unemployment claim when I was laid off numerous times from construction jobs.  I was strongly against “welfare” and I included both of these programs in my definition.  In retrospect, I know I wasn’t lazy.  However, stubbornness can easily approach the boundary of stupidity.

I wasn’t worried about keeping the job.  From an early age, I’d been trained very well to quickly do what I was told, to do what needed done without being told, and to always accomplish the job exactly the way the boss wanted  it done, regardless of whether I agreed.

That day, I purchased a pair of steel-toed boots from the Salvation Army and put a sizeable portion of my remaining cash down on a place to live.  I got a very good deal sharing an apartment with two mental patients.  I’ll eventually get around to sharing that experience, but today I’ll repress my natural inclination to chase rabbits and get back to the story.

Whenever lunch or break time rolled around, Charlie always invited me over to his workbench.  After the first few days, I caught on to what he was doing.  Almost all of our planning and coordination took place while I was off the clock or otherwise not productive.  The first week he hired another warehouse man (all the factory workers were women) and fired him the first day when he caught him smoking in the pine-bough-filled warehouse.  After that, he decided to work me more hours instead of hiring someone else.  The overtime hours actually approached a reasonable wage and being the only trained warehouseman gave me a greater sense of job security.  Even after the Christmas rush, Charlie kept me on part time until Memorial Day when the factory shut down for several months.  I’d made enough money to pay for a few night classes, cover my rent, and even had a little left over for a social life.  After I learned to see past Charley’s crusty exterior, we became good friends.

Just like those who are quick to judge those going through hard times, there are others who are just as quick to judge those in business.  Low paying jobs involving hard work are a magnet for criticism.  While Charley could only pay the minimum wage, he was liked and trusted by those he worked with.  Half his employees had been with him for 20 years or longer.  There were also a number of mothers and daughters working together.  While it wasn’t enough to make a living, I’m certain the seasonal work he provided paid for many Christmas presents and summer vacations.

Fresh out of World War II, Charley started a marginally viable business and kept it going for thirty five years.  Just as the Civil War was a defining event regarding America’s unity and individual equality, the sacrifices of Charley’s generation are responsible for the freedom and prosperity we share today.  World War II also defined Charley.  My first task of the day was to raise the American flag and the last was to take it down.   He was always there watching.   He deserved a portion of the American Dream.

Eventually, the years of hard labor took their toll and Charley had to retire.   His life’s work left him with little more (financially) than what he’d started out with.  He wasn’t able to sell the business. Everyone who looked at it couldn’t make the numbers work.  The man who took over did his best, but the business went under and a lot of good people lost their jobs.  The line between success and failure is often fine.

America’s success has led many to believe (previously myself) that common sense, hard work and a little luck are the only keys to a successful life.   They are, if you live in a society where widespread opportunity exists.  I’m positive a short visit to Sudan, Somalia, Haiti, or any country ending in “stan” would convince you that where, when, and the family you’re born into plays a much greater role.  Our individual success is predicated on the success of the society we live in.  John F. Kennedy used the phrase, “A rising tide raises all boats” many times to illustrate the individual benefits of societal progress.   America needs President Kennedy's vision.  On 21 Jul 1969, my Dad called me in from outside to watch Neil Armstrong take man's first step on the moon. I was ten years old and my Dad told me I'd always remember what we witnessed that day.  Sadly, it's been a long time since America last left footprints on the moon

I think many still believe that America’s freedom and prosperity is eternal.  Ronald Reagan said, "Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free."  I've seen several of President Reagan's movies and he wasn't much of an actor.  In real life, I saw a man of true conviction and unquestionable sincerity.  If I was fooled, please don't tell me.  I'd break my heart.

From my tiny perch thousands of miles away in Korea, I see political division, selfish greed, and lack of vision eroding America’s economic foundation. A falling tide lowers all boats and a luxury yacht is of little use stranded on the rocks.  In just a few months we'll have a say in our future.  Without regards to political philosophy, I'd vote for anyone remotely possessing the leadership of President Kennedy or President Reagan.  Choose wisely, the line between success and failure is often fine.

The Kitchen Sink - Unveiling of a Sarcasm Font

The weather in Korea is bitterly cold today and I’ve cancelled my customary Saturday morning hike in the woods.   While Hyesuk has made me promise to go to the gym tonight, I’m free to do as I please for now.  I could take care of the dirty dishes in the kitchen, but I’ve instead succumbed to the temptation of sitting down at the computer with a hot cup of coffee.  Besides, I’m certain the dishes will mysteriously take care of themselves and I wouldn’t want to disturb the dreams of my dog Sam, who is curled up and sleeping at my feet.  I’ve noted the time and will let you know when the kitchen is clean.

Since I’ve been avoiding the computer and writing for the last month, my head is fairly full of thoughts and ideas I’d like to share.   No update yet on the dishes, but I now hear the sound of the washing machine in the background.

 

Sarcasm Font -   The idea for establishing a sarcasm font isn’t new.  The online community has long recognized a need to bridge the gapping divide between verbal and written understanding.  Painstaking efforts have even been made to create numerous sarcasm fonts from scratch.  All these well-meaning efforts have failed for one simple reason.  It’s nearly impossible to get everyone in the world to download and install the fonts on their computers.

Having lived in Asian countries for a good many years, I’ve witnessed their talent for taking a good idea and finding a way of putting a finished product into almost every American home.  I’m certain this cultural exposure was a significant factor in a flash of inspiration I experienced late last year.   Why don’t we just take a font that is already loaded on everyone’s computer and designate it as the “sarcasm font?”

Certain that worldwide designation and implementation of a sarcasm font was well beyond the capabilities of a single individual, I consulted extensively with a panel of experienced Information Technology professionals and leading sarcasm experts.   The overwhelming consensus pointed to Microsoft Word’s “Comic Sans” font as the ideal candidate.  Even without designation, sarcasm already seems to leap from the page whenever it is used.  To enhance the visual experience and provide an even greater level of granularity, the panel recommended using variations of green to further clarify meaning.  A lighter shade of green is intended to convey a light-hearted, friendly jab while the darker shades evoke cutting, even cruel, intentions.

 

While my daughter was visiting over Christmas vacation, I proudly informed her of my achievement.  Laura’s response was unexpected;

“Do you realize you’ve ruined sarcasm?  Now even the idiots will know when it’s being used.”

Ouch!  I now better understand Robert Oppenheimer’s reservations over developing the nuclear bomb.   Maybe, we’ve gone too far.

Kitchen Update- Sam is still sleeping and our dishes remain soaking in the kitchen sink. Noise from the washing machine, dryer, and vacuum cleaner is making it hard to concentrate, but I don’t see any benefit in opening my mouth.  Since it now appears to be taking a prominent role in today’s blog, I slipped over and took a picture of the dirty dishes.  It’s probably a crime in Hyesuk’s mind.  If necessary, I’ll ask for a pardon later.

A Belated Apology – When our parents would leave us “Home Alone” for a few days, they’d often ask my Uncle Chub and Aunt Doris to keep an eye on us.   On one particular occasion, Gary and I were thoroughly enjoying our vacation from parental authority.   However, enjoyment was quickly replaced with apprehension when our cousin Pam flagged us down on Main Street to let us know we were in a predicament.

 

Aunt Doris had dropped by the house to check on us.  Thirsty, she went to the kitchen sink to pour a glass of water.  Earlier that day, I’d placed a rubber band over the spray hose’s handle and pointed it to where I expected my brother would be standing.  After wiping herself dry, Aunt Doris headed downstairs and barely missed being drenched by a bucket of water triggered to dispense at the opening of a door.  She wisely left the premises to avoid any remaining booby traps.

While we spent the next few days looking over our shoulders for Uncle Chub and had to deal with Mom when she got home, I don’t believe I’ve ever directly apologized.  Aunt Doris, I’m sorry about spraying you.  Gary will have to apologize for the bucket.  I’m just thankful you didn’t open the utility room closet or make a snack out of any of the leftovers in the refrigerator ;)

Kitchen Update 2 - Sam has left my side for the kitchen.  Whenever, one of us is in the kitchen, Sam makes a point of hanging around.  You never know when something good will fall to the floor.   From my perspective, the sound of clanking dishes is preferable to the vacuum cleaner.

Forgiveness - I’ve decided to forgive my sister Chris for driving to school by herself and making Gary and I find our way on foot in the bitter Eastern Colorado winter.  I’ve come to the realization that the potential embarrassment of being seen with us certainly outweighed the short-term misery of our trek.  (Laura’s point about using the sarcasm font is starting to sink in).  If Chris can forgive her son Josh for setting the trunk of his car on fire, I’m now convinced that I’m genetically capable of finally letting this one go.  Forgiveness isn’t about rationalizing real or perceived offenses, it’s about letting them go.   What the world really needs is a sincerity font ;)

I forgive my Uncle Ed for stealing my Aunt June away from me.  From the moment I met her, I had a deep crush on her.  I don’t remember her exact words, but when asked what she thought about Uncle Ed, she told me that she wasn’t all that impressed with him.  A little spark of hope was enough to convince me she’d wait until I grew up.   While I wasn’t happy at the wedding, I still understood my Uncle Ed.  We shared the same infatuation, he did find her first, and I wouldn’t have thought twice about throwing him under a bus if I’d been given the opportunity.

I’m also forgiving my Aunt Sandy for spanking Gary and me with a hair brush.  I’m certain the original disciplinary action was more than well deserved and at a level barely noticeable on the scale of what we were accustomed to receiving on a regular basis.  I’ve brought the incident up every time I’ve seen her over the last 40 years and level of brutality she inflicted has been progressively exaggerated with each telling.  To be honest, I don’t think it has ever really bothered me.  I just enjoy bringing it up.

 At the risk of reopening a can of worms, I forgive my sister Carol and her friend Cassa for attacking me with a broom over a heated dishwashing dispute. I also owe her an apology and a thank you.  The apology is for my instigation of the attack and the thank you is for not ratting me out.   I wouldn’t have mentioned it all if the aggravated employment of a broom in a housework dispute wasn’t such a great segue into my next paragraph.

 An Interruption -  Have you ever stepped away from the computer, for just a moment, only to find that you’ve lost the whole weekend?  While I was intently reopening a can of worms with my younger sister, I was rudely interrupted by the ringing of my cell phone.  Hyesuk called asking for a ride home.  I hadn’t even realized she left the house.  On such a cold day, I have no idea how she got so far away on foot or why she didn’t take the car in the first place.  On my way out, I took a picture of the kitchen sink before adding the dishes that somehow gathered around the computer.

 I picked Hyesuk up and we went out for lunch and some shopping.  Why is a brisk hike in the woods invigorating, but a slow meander behind a shopping cart so exhausting?  Washing the car, a trip to Seoul and a Super Bowl (Monday morning in Korea) later, my three-day weekend is left with only a few remaining hours.  Fortunately, Hyesuk is at work and I’ve left my cell in another room on vibrate.

Foregiveness resumes – I forgive my sweet wife for maliciously pursuing me through our home with a broom and forcing me to barricade myself in a bathroom in mortal fear for my life.  We’d been married for a little over a year and some good friends were coming over for dinner.  Time was running short and Hyesuk was asking me to help get the house ready.  My strategy to continue sitting on the couch watching TV and ignore her seemed to be working.  However, I didn’t like the tone of her fourth request, and responded with, “Why should I have to help?  You’re the one who invited them.”  A fierce shriek and a fiery-eyed, broom-waving terror coming at me from the kitchen brought me instantly to my feet and darting for the bathroom.  My heart beating fast from adrenalin, I planted myself firmly against the door as Hyesuk vented her rage.

After the initial turmoil subsided, I negotiated the terms of my surrender.   If she promised not to hit me, I’d come out and help.  To this day, she claims she never had any violent intention and was just trying to scare me.   If true, I think she missed her calling as an actress.   

A New Ending - My original plan for ending for this blog was to graciously display my mature domestic wisdom (and prevent Broom Attack II) by taking Hyesuk somewhere nice for lunch. Displaying a picture of the clean sink at the end would neatly conclude the housework thread and give everyone a heartwarming sense of closure.  However, that was two days ago. Today, I’m torn between cleaning up the mess I’ve made and taking a nap.  The nap idea seems to be winning.  Maybe I’ll wake up in time to clean the kitchen and make dinner.  In case I don’t, I’ll hide the broom.