Today in the News...

Though it doesn’t seem like that long ago, it’s been more than ten years since I was an avid reader of newspapers.  My preferred edition was the Detroit Free Press, a left-leaning daily that had a killer Sunday issue.  It landed with an audible thump on your porch and it would take hours to get through it all, even if you skipped the classifieds and the weekly magazines that were all part of this great big sloppy joe of a paper.  Even the comics took more than a few minutes to read.

The Joint Operating Agreement (approved by Reagan’s Secretary of State Edwin Meese in 1988), was supposed to save both the Free Press and Detroit’s other major daily, the News.  The two powers, along with several smaller news outlets, had brawled for decades for supremacy in print journalism, but ultimately couldn’t compete with the televised 24-hour news cycle being offered by numerous cable outlets.  Both are shadows of their former selves today, having long ago shed the expensive writers and syndicates in favor of reader polls and mommy blogs.  Where I was once able to pick up the Sunday Comment section and revel in the political rumblings of Mike Royko, George Will, Cal Thomas and Molly Ivins, I now see boiler plate sentiments and a desire to avoid offending or informing anyone.

When I quit taking a daily newspaper, I didn’t think I would miss much.  After all, there’s news on-line, right?  I figured, even if Huffington Post is left-leaning, I could still get a balanced slate of contributions on a platform like Yahoo! or MSN...I have been dissuaded from that notion.

 I’m embarrassed it took as long as it did, but they have clearly been feeding me what I wanted to see.  The more I clicked on liberal politics, the more liberal posts they sent me.  If I clicked on stories about an upcoming wrestling pay-per-view, I was rewarded with psychological analyses on the differences between Hulk Hogan and the Ultimate Warrior.  I could’ve blame the on-line community if I wanted to, but being a failed Pentecostal, I decided to blame myself.  Can I get an ‘Amen’?

The date is March 10, 2017.  In the first fifteen stories on my Yahoo feed, I have a reminder for daylight savings time (top story!), a political boast about some shit the current administration had NOTHING to do with, and a follow-up on the lurid murder of a child.  The sixteenth story was about how Dale Earnhardt, Jr. has begun riding a bicycle and doesn’t care for the spandex shorts.  In other words, a slow news day.  Right?

I bought a couple of newspapers and read them both.  Even the business sections, which I never did before.  While I was sleeping, this is what happened, what was reported, and what you and I might have missed otherwise…

-N.Y. Gov. Andrew Cuomo has announced a comprehensive $1.4 billion plan to attack the crime, unemployment and obesity in urban Brooklyn.  It is speculated that this is a baby step in the direction of seeking the presidency in 2020.

-A warm February like the one we are experiencing is about four times more likely than it would have been in 1900.

-Dolley Madison saved a portrait of George Washington before the White House was burned down in the War of 1812.

-Career fields with a majority of men pay 21% more than those with mostly women.

-Wild life continues to thrive in the area of the Fukushima nuclear disaster.  Wild boar, a delicacy in Japan, are being slaughtered by the hundreds, but are inedible because of radioactivity.  Though Japan hopes to move people back into Fukushima, the boars have apparently moved into houses and lost their fear of humans.  Chernobyl, in the aftermath of their nuclear accident in 1986, is overrun with moose, deer, brown bears, lynx and wolves.

-31 girls died in a fire at a home for abused children in Guatemala.  An investigation is underway.

-Because of repeated provocations by North Korea, South Korea is amping up their defense with U.S. weaponry.  Because China sees these weapons pointed in their direction, a wave of anti-South Korean sentiment has broken out among its citizenry.

-In Turkey, it is suspected that Fethullah Gulen, currently living in Pennsylvania, was the mastermind behind last July’s failed coup.  Turkish Justice Minister Bekir Bozdag,  stated, “I can can clearly say that whatever Osama bin Laden means for American citizens, Fethullah Gulen means for the Turkish people.”

-There is a new movement afoot, started in Texas of all places, against unfair bail for arrested persons.  It appears we are setting bail for people accused of misdemeanors according to an old formula regardless of their ability to pay, keeping them in jail for offenses that likely wouldn’t result in jail time.  Example: A man accused of illegally sleeping under a bridge is assessed a $5,000 bond.  

-Mothers of stillborns are being asked by doctors and scientists to allow their fetus to be autopsied.  Though there are no ‘cures’ per se, they would be able to counsel an expectant mother about tests she may want to take to determine the viability of her pregnancy.

-RE: American Health Care Act                                                                                                         “We’re on the hook this time.  This one counts.”  Dave Brat (R) Virginia

-David Brooks believes that the newly proposed health care act will result in “the end of what’s left of the Reagan-era party” because there are some problems that can’t be fixed by tax cuts.

-Facebook executives, when asked about sexualized images of children on their site, demanded examples from a BBC reporter.  When provided with them, they turned the images over to the police, causing the reporter, Angus Crawford, to be jailed.      

-Between 2008 and 2015, General Electric and Procter Gamble paid no taxes.  In fact, both received rebates.

-Sally Field is on Broadway, playing Amanda in ‘The Glass Menagerie’.  Though she got raves in 2004 playing the same role at the Kennedy Center, the new production is mired with a director that was determined to re-imagine the play and the outlook is poor.

-Researchers at Britain Library have posited the theory that Jane Austen, who died 200 years ago, was killed by arsenic.  It is isn’t necessarily a murder mystery, as arsenic was present during that era in water, medication and even wallpaper.

-The head of Flint’s water pipe project anticipates the work being done in 2019.

-Jesus Acosta, 17, of Tuscon, Arizona has been missing since September 1^st.    

I could have just gone with whatever popped up on my screen this morning.  There’s nothing easier than going with the flow, being one of the gang, going along to get along.  I’m not sure today is that time.  I have friends worried about their draft-aged children, others concerned about immigrant relatives.  I know folks concerned about going into ethnic neighborhoods and others worried about who uses their bathrooms.  I’m concerned about all of us marching towards an uncertain goal, not at all clear about what we’re after, or even where we’re headed. If we are searching for the answers in on-line news, I believe we will be disappointed and only half-informed, if that. 

It was a slow news day today…but I’m not sure I’ll sleep tonight.

The Shadows On A Starry Night

Have you ever known of someone who is afraid of the dark?

Well, some are afraid of shadows, and one of them was Mark.

Whenever Mark would lay down, to try to sleep at night

He’d close his eyes immediately, and keep them closed up tight.

For he knew if he opened them, he would likely see

A shadow move across his room, and what could THAT THING BE?

He’d lay awake at night and he’d hear every noise

The sun would never set, if Mark had had his choice.

One night Mark was outside, just before bed

He wished on the first star, and this is what he said

“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight

I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight”

The star awakened then, and without a single sound

It opened up its eyes as stardust hit to the ground

Your wish will be granted, you shall ask and re-ceive

But you must me ask quickly, for very soon I leave

Mark didn’t have to wait, for he already knew

Just exactly what he wished this wishing star to do.

“Get rid of the shadows!” He shouted to the sky

“Get rid of them forever!” But then the star asked Mark, “Why?”

“They scare me at night when I’m lying in bed,

They scare me a lot, so I thought instead…

…Perhaps I could live for the rest of my years

In the brightness of midday and have no more fears!”

The star didn’t answer, least not right away

It struggled to find the correct words to say

But finally, the star’s eyes lit up like sparks

And it asked the young boy, ‘Are you sure ‘bout this, Mark?

Shadows outside your bedroom, that give you knocking knees

Are tree branches carrying, the cool evening breeze

The light through your window that sweeps down the wall

Is a police car that drives by, protecting us all.

That monstrous shadow at the end of your bed

Is only the outline of your Teddy Bear, Fred.

And that giant shadow, outside your bedroom door?

The one that approaches, and makes creaks on the floor?

That shadow that makes you go rigid with fright

Is your Mom or Dad checking if you’re tucked in for the night.

The only reason why you can see me at night

Is because the earth is in shadow, ‘cause I’m not that bright.

I’ll take away shadows, if that is your wish”

But Mark said, “Hold on…I gotta think about this.”

“I don’t guess I want shadows to all go away

So my wish is for you star…I hope you have a nice day.”

When Mark went to bed, the shadows did creep…

Then he smiled and rolled over…and went right to sleep.

My Brother's A Keeper

“…see some old friends, good for the soul…”

-Bob Seger, “Hollywood Nights”

I ran into an old friend this past week in Orlando.  When I say I ran into him, I mean he was waiting for me at the airport.  My wife pointed in the direction of a guy I’d never seen before.  It turned out I was looking at the wrong guy and didn’t see my brother, Eric, until I damn near bumped into him.

Though we were born to the same parents and lived in the same house for sixteen years, we’ve seen each other only sporadically since.  I was off to college and then he was off to college out-of-state, and then I was married and raising kids and then he was married and raising hell and…if you’re my age, you probably know what I’m talking about.  Both of us loved theatre arts and our chosen career paths took us in opposite directions.  My path was writing for the stage while he was still accepting the audience’s applause as a musical theatre performer.  His choice took him around the world and placed him in front of tens of thousands of people.  My choice led to the dining room, where I wrote words I hoped an actor would one day speak.

We saw each other when I visited him in Findlay, Ohio once or twice, Cincinnati a couple of times, Key West once.  Between jobs he dropped into Michigan to visit our parents and at various times met my wife, my first child, and later my second child.  It sounds ludicrous, but somehow, twenty years go by, then twenty-five. 

The only visit of any length we had during that period was when the entire family, including my parents and children, cruised on a ship where Eric was the entertainment director.  He had found his calling, it seemed.  His job was making sure everybody that crossed his path was having a good time.  From my personal experience, he was very good at it.  If he was going to be at an event on the ship, we made sure to be there.  If it was Karaoke, we attended and sang our (off-key) hearts out.  If it was doing the Macarena on the back deck, we stumbled through that, too.  Eric was always the funniest of us all, the first name you would put on the list of party invitees. 

When we stepped on the cruise ship, Eric’s marriage had just ended.  He was seeing a lovely young lady named Renee whom we liked instinctively, yet…when a relationship is brand new, and you’re worried that your children might get attached to a person you DON’T REALLY KNOW, you don’t go all in.  We hoped for the best, for both of them.

This is how you bump into your brother in an airport and don’t immediately know who he is.  I’m not saying that’s right.  That’s just how it was.

Life had taken a swerve for Eric and Renee.  The cruise ship regimen lasted for a few years, but constantly being on the water, unable to get away from the hard-partying vacationers, the grind ultimately took its toll.  After a period of years, the now-married couple settled in Orlando, with Eric finding work as an entertainment director on land, where he got to go home every night.  Renee followed her muse and developed a following in dance instruction.  While they were driving stakes into the ground in the Sunshine State, my children were growing up and leaving the house.  An unexpected burst of creativity lifted me back onto the stage as a writer and a performer. We were certainly aware of what was happening in the other’s life, but had precious little time to appreciate it.  There was a period of time where only one of us was on top of the world at any given moment.  If something cool was happening for him, I was scrambling for money in Michigan.  If I had my picture in the paper in Ann Arbor, he was moving from one rental to another.  It was a brutal cycle.

Last week, after we met at the airport, Eric and Renee took us to the land-locked resort where he holds court.  The respect and friendship I saw on the faces of the people he works with was palpable.  Kath and I cruised through his fiefdom treated, not like the King and Queen perhaps, but certainly a Lord and Lady.  For a couple still putting one kid through college, it was a royal reception.  We ate dinner at one of the restaurants on the property and on Sunday morning Eric and I made breakfast side-by-side in the suite he put us up in.  We had talked late into the night about where we had been and what we had seen.  I searched his face for clues of who he had become, wondering if this is the same guy I took baths with more than forty-five years ago.  Even the sound of his voice was somewhat strange to me.

Again, I know I sound ridiculous.  He’s my brother, of course I know him!  Yeah, but not really.  I’m not the same person I was five years ago. Even the last year has changed me irrevocably. I am now at a point in my life where I have cohabitated with my wife long than any other person.  So, Eric and I patty-caked through the weekend, loath to somehow offend the other, talking about everything and nothing, with the sound and fury of the Florida attractions serving as white noise.

We’ve both slowed down a bit.  I’ve passed fifty and Eric stands on the welcome mat.  We’ve both had some minor health issues in the last year and we each take a handful of pills in the morning.  When we went to the amusement park on Monday, we did not arrive before it opened with a plan to stay until the gates closed.  We used sunblock and re-applied throughout the day.  We wore hats on our bald heads.  We found out which rides each person wanted to experience and when we’d accomplished that, we left, eating a nice dinner outside the park.  It was barely sunset when we got back to their place.

We were given a hero’s welcome at the door by Eric and Renee’s three lap dogs.  After the loss of Flash this fall (see: http://cuttingadeadmanstoenails.blogspot.com/2016/08/day-one-august-18-2016.html), for Kath and I it was a balm for our souls to have some animals to play with.  The pooch that seemed to take to us most was a Chihuahua mix named Phoebe, who was so butch in her manner I took to calling her ‘Bruiser’.  Of course, I called her by this macho nickname while cuddling her in my lap.

As I am an anthropomorphist from way back, at some point I began using the dog as my puppet, speaking for her in a menacing Mexican accent, asserting her dominance over the other dogs.  Eric responded in kind, pledging mayhem from the other side of the room, both of us using the dogs as surrogates, creating characters and scenarios on the fly.  This went on for (maybe) five minutes, but when it was over, the distance between my brother and I was gone, too.  It was just like the old days.  By Wednesday, I had returned to my former role of instigator-in-chief (also known as senior shit stirrer), goading the others into turning the final presidential debate into a drinking game.  Eric gamely joined me and later regretted it…again, just like the old days.

But as I laid in bed on Monday night, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself.  I thought of the child psychologists that use dolls or puppets to help their young charges express things that are difficult to talk about.  In a manner of speaking, a pair of Totos had revealed the men behind the curtain.  Neither of us had managed to become the Great and Powerful Oz, but with the amount of smoke and mirrors, we certainly had some folks fooled…and some, for a long time.

By the end of the week, we were talking in concrete terms about when and how we would get together again.  We were also wielding the needle in that way siblings have, finding and exploiting weak spots to maximum advantage.  I can say shitty things about my brother, but I wouldn’t recommend you trying it.

I just might sic Bruiser on you.