Archive for November, 2009

The truth about cats and dogs…please

Monday, November 23rd, 2009

Over the weekend I rented the movie “Marley and Me.” It was pretty cute, well done, not particularly original, and definitely not a “kids’ movie.”

But it touched upon an issue that pushes a button for me. Now, I don’t want to give anything away in case you haven’t seen it, but since the story covers a number of years, it goes without saying that Marley grows older. Near the end of the movie, the family is concerned about the dog’s health. One of the kids says that his friend says that dogs sometimes just go away to die alone when the time comes. That’s what the friend’s beagle did, the kid says.

No, says the mom, maybe beagles do that, but “not labs like Marley.”

Hello? Why do parents insist upon lying to their kids about something as important as death? Parents offer all kinds of stories to explain the loss of a pet: It ran away. We left him at the vet. With little pets, they can sometimes pull off putting a new one in the cage or bowl while the kids aren’t looking.

Death offers one thing that none of these fabrications do, however: closure.

Everybody dies! Not just dogs and cats and hamsters and goldfish, but people too! And if kids are lucky, they will experience the death of at least one pet before that of a person—grandparent, parent, or—God forbid—a sibling or classmate. Going through the grieving process over a pet is like “practice” for when it happens with a person. Take away the little lesson, and the big lesson is harder.

Letting the kids be “in on it” as much as possible is the best strategy. Okay, if your pet was hit by a car and mangled, that might be too disturbing for younger kids to see. But if you’re having him put to sleep, if the pet dies at home, or even if the pet is hit and killed but not mutilated, let the kids see what death looks like.

Lying to them to “protect” them is an oxymoron. The truth, please.

Why must people scream?

Wednesday, November 18th, 2009

Last night I attended a concert. The performers were local students from elementary through high school; there must have been a couple hundred total.

The venue was the fairly new theater at one of the area’s high schools—quite a nice place, actually. But one phenomenon that really bugs me was violently pounded into my ears last night—the tendency of people to scream as a supplement to applause. Why do people do that?

The audience was mostly parents—some grandparents and siblings and other assorted relatives and friends mixed in, but primarily adults. Each time a featured performer was introduced, as well as at the end of each performance, applause blended with screaming shook the place. While I was trying to figure out how (and why) these grown people were doing so much screaming, I realized that the performers themselves were doing much of the screaming, from the stage.

But the result was that I couldn’t applaud. Having very sensitive hearing, I had to cover my ears and therefore didn’t have my hands free for clapping. People may have thought me rude, but the performers weren’t hurting for affirmation, and the long-term result will probably be that I can hear better than my peers when I am old.

But I just don’t get it. What psychological process creates the need for screaming at a performance?

Happy Veterans Day

Wednesday, November 11th, 2009

It may sound like a cliché. We attach “happy” to whatever holiday or special day it is, often without much thought. While no holiday is guaranteed to be happy, Veterans Day has a special burden of mixed emotions attached to it. After all, we are honoring our Veterans—and a veteran is by definition someone who returned from combat. Many others did not return. Others did return, but with scars of many kinds.

A lot of people are just happy because they get the day off work or school.

Let me offer you three very good reasons to be happy:

1. You are alive, and you’re well enough to read this blog.

2. You can read. In countless times and places throughout history, people haven’t had the chance to learn to read. If they are female, they may live in a country that doesn’t believe in educating females; if they have a learning disorder, they may have fallen through the cracks of the educational system.

3. You are free to get news from the Internet. Many places in the world, news is filtered, censored, and edited.

I would also add that you are presumably reading this in English. So, while you may not be thrilled about having to learn the most complicated and wordy language on the planet, the fact is that someone fought and died for you to speak English. More than once, English-speaking people groups were threatened by conquerors speaking other languages.

So be thankful that someone was willing to fight and die for you. I am. Happy Veterans Day!

Clothing and weather: just an observation

Monday, November 9th, 2009

As the weather gets cooler, it’s interesting to watch how people adjust their mode of dress.

Some people habitually wear as little clothing as possible, and continue to wear shorts and tank tops well into fall. Personally, I like to wear as much clothing as possible, because a) I like cooler weather, and b) I like the aesthetically pleasing effect of layers, with all the different color, pattern, and texture combinations.

So on any given fall day, you might see the whole range, from shorts and tank tops to jackets and furry boots. The other thing I notice, however, is that people tend to respond more to clouds vs. sun than to high vs. low temperature. It could be cold and sunny, and you see a tendency toward less clothing. Warm and overcast, however, and you see more clothing.

I have a feeling that this is more psychological than an actual sensation of being hot or cold.

Just an interesting observation.

Second chance

Friday, November 6th, 2009

I saw the young homeless guy again. I’m sure it was the same guy, although I was on the far southern end of town, whereas I was on the far northern end when I saw him two days ago. (It’s a small town.) This time I was able to make a couple right turns and get back to where he was.

I still had the ten-dollar bill. I gave it to him and said “God bless you.” It sounded so lame, under the circumstances. We exchanged names and I offered to pray for him. What else can you do? I wish I had a job or a home for him, or both…but I don’t. Maybe I’ll continue to see him and will eventually learn what happened—how he got to be homeless.

I can’t help wondering, doesn’t this kid have parents? Who knows…maybe they live far away, maybe they’re dysfunctional, maybe they’re deceased, maybe they’re just jerks. Maybe the kid screwed up and got kicked out—a prodigal son sort of thing.

Who knows. But one of my goals is to carry a stack of gift cards to Subway, Starbucks, the grocery store…places where a person could go and get something nice and feel normal. And where he couldn’t spend it on a “substance,” if he were so inclined. It might make being homeless feel a tiny bit less horrible.

Missed opportunity

Wednesday, November 4th, 2009

Today I stopped at my local Grocery Outlet to pick up a few things. I usually go there once a week to see what bargains I can bag, then get the remainder of my list at the regular grocery store.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a guy standing in one of the planted areas holding a sign, which I slowed down to read. I may not have seen the entire message, but I did catch the word “homeless.”

I used to not pay too much attention to homeless people, thinking that a lot of them are probably substance abusers and too scary to approach. But these days, it seems there are so many of them. This young man looked about the age of my kids; in fact, I thought for a moment that I recognized him. I think I was mistaken about that.

After finding a space, I looked in my wallet. I had only a single ten-dollar bill. Not wanting to give him everything I had, I figured I’d come up with a plan while in the store. In the end, I came up with the simple solution of getting another ten-dollar bill at checkout.

When I came out, the young man was gone. Sadly, with the ten-dollar bill on the passenger seat, I drove around the parking lot; perhaps he’d relocated to another corner. No luck—he was simply gone. I drove home, wanting to cry. This guy could’ve eaten some decent food for ten dollars, especially if he shopped at Grocery Outlet!

Then I realized my stupidity. I could have simply given him the original ten-dollar bill, and gotten a new one for myself. I can only hope he found something better. Or that I’ll see him again. Or, best of all, that his fortune changes.

It’s never too late!

Monday, November 2nd, 2009

I wanted to post one of my favorite quotes and went to search for the exact wording. On a site called geonius[dot]com, I found this:

“The following quote is widely attributed to George Eliot, but it was actually written by Dinah Maria (Mulock) Craik (1826-1887).”

All of these variations are listed there:

“It is never too late to be the person you could have been.
It is never too late to be what you might have become.
It is never too late to be what you might have been.
It is never too late to be what we might have been.
It is never too late to be who you might have been.
It is never too late to become what you might have been.
It is never too late to become who you might have been.
It’s never too late to be what you might have been.”

Aren’t they all equally inspiring?