THE MORE THINGS CHANGE - PART II

In junior high school, as a relatively naive, middle-class white kid, I remember asking why blacks drove such fancy, upscale cars and lived in squalor in the urban ghetto areas. I learned they simply were not welcome in most suburban areas. I am not sure today is much different in many areas.

Flash forward a few years to the mid-to-late 1960's, I recall sitting in a movie theater with my girlfriend at the time. It was an ordinary night until it wasn't. 

As best I can remember sometime during the movie, ushers began walking down the aisles announcing, "Any members of the Mass. National Guard have been ordered to report to your armories immediately." We got up and left. I had to take her home and then make the trip back to Boston. I never made it to the street, but times then were tense. Many major cities were facing race riots. 

The next year, I was at Emerson College in Boston. I was between classed walking down the street one day when a student ran up to me and said, "You're an athlete, aren't you?" (please don't roll your eyes). Back then, I was - I played ice hockey for my school. When I replied yes, he said to get down to the college president's office right away - they needed people because there was a threat that black students were going to storm his office and take over the building.

I went in and saw other athletes standing there at the tops of the marble staircases leading up to the office areas. I joined them, and we nervously stood there waiting. Soon, a group of blacks entered the building and were met by university personnel. They spent some time talking, and eventually, the situation had defused, and it was all over.

I couldn't imaging fighting with classmates and was glad I didn't have to. What could have been.

One more - during those college years, I was also serving my time in the Guard. Vietnam had been going on for a while, and demonstrations were increasing across the country. It must have been 1968 or the next year, but a Boston tradition was its Veterans Day parade on November 11th.

As it happened the parade route took me and fellow troops right past my college. The sidewalks were filled with my fellow students, and as we marched by, they were yelling and swearing at us. "Effing baby killers!" "Effing pigs!" etc. It was awkward to say the least. I wanted to break ranks and yell back, "Hey, it's me, guys," but decorum and the sea of dress made that difficult.

That was then; this is now. Today, the military is pretty much respected and revered. That's as it should be. 

As for others, we have a long way to go.

SHAME ON YOU!

So many of my views on Life were shaped and formed by everything along the way, but many were more sharply defined, clarified and solidified by the works I taught in school.

One such work I taught, called the original French short story, was written in 1829 by Prosper Merimee. The title is 'Mateo Falcone' (you can read it here: https://wwwclassicshorts.com/stories/mfalcone.htlm ). It is a disturbing, unforgettable story. I don't believe in spoilers, so let me just say the story absolutely stunned me!

The story's themes include: dishonor, betrayal, morality, custom, and justice.

***

There was a time when a family's name (character and reputation) once meant something. Whether or not it worked in practice, the contemporary wisdom was that a person's name and character carried a lot of weight and helped define an individual for better or for worse. 

I remember when I showed up for my first teacher day 47 years ago, some of the veterans asked to see my class lists. As they saw each name, they would say things like: "Oh, you will love this one," "This one will work well for you," and This one is from a bad family; watch out for him (or her)."

When I grew up (as much as I did), my family's name was everything. It was clear that if I ever did anything bad, it would reflect on the family name. No matter what I did, there was always the concept of not bringing shame to the family. That was important!

Merriam-Webster defines shame as a 'painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety... a condition of humiliating disgrace or disrepute.

Shame is a feeling of self-hate, regret, and dishonor. People are wonderful today at shaming people except the people aren't shamed. In many (most) cases, they don't care. The expression "Shame on you!" used to result in embarrassment and head hanging. Today, there is no shame. People have been empowered to be stupid (not ignorant) and proud of it and attack intelligence because they really don't know better...

...but I do, so while some will understand and others never will, I will still say it - "Shame on you!"

I DREAM OF JEANS

I don't know if it ended that way or not, but  pop artist Andy Warhol said, "I want to die with my blue jeans on."

I am thinking the same thing. I did some rough calculations and learned that if I am up and about and dressed during the day I am in jeans approximately 94.246575342466% of the time, so the odds are pretty good.

I love jeans. They are casual, comfortable, take a beating, and are relatively timeless (although through the years, there have been numerous variations on the theme [bell bottoms relaxed, classic, tight, stretch, pre-shrunk, ripped, distressed, shotgun blasted, and, sometimes, even ridiculously  expensive]). If you were wondering how expensive, Secret Circus Jeans Company (an under-the-radar company, which may or may not still exist) offered jeans, which actually come in a number of patterns and prices. In short, certain pairs of these jeans have patterns sewn onto their back pockets, which are formed using numerous diamonds of high quality. Something that explains much about their price tag of $1.3 million. Careful where and how you sit. (I consider anything over $25 expensive!) 

Anyhow, over the past several years, I have stayed with Wrangler, which offers basic jeans at under $20. I like the fit of Levi's better, but they run $40 - $50. I have rarely been into brand names as a deciding factor, but there have been a few things along the way. I am thinking that if someone doesn't like me, it won't be because of the brand I wear.

A bit of education: the blue jeans we know today were patented in 1873 by Levi Strauss and Jacob Davis. They are named after Genoa, Italy, where cotton corduroy, called either 'jean' or 'jeane,' was manufactured. There's lots more history, so if you are interested, you can look it up.

A few facts of interest (I have not fact checked these): (1) Blue jeans are illegal in North Korea, (2) One pair of Levi's 501's requires 37 separate sewing operations, (3) Japan sells jeans through vending machines, (4) In the 50's, jeans were not allowed in schools and other places because they were a symbol of rebellion, (6) One bale of cotton yields around 325 pairs of jeans, and (7) women's jeans used to have zippers on the side instead of in the front.

"Confidence is what makes that simple white tee and jeans look good." Ciara.

p.s. I had to look up who Ciara is. She's an American singer.

p.p.s She's probably wondering who Mr. B is 

p.p.p.s No, she's not.

THE MORE THINGS CHANGE....

So here we are. 

I had hoped to be more regular in my blog, but I am finding myself consumed with what's happening in the U.S. and the world. Unless really Big News happened, access to information back then was limited. There was news in the morning, at noon, and around dinnertime and late night. Although there were various updated editions along the way, the newspapers came out in the morning and late afternoon. 

Today, we have a month's worth of news happening every hour.

Having grown up (sort of) in the 60's, each day is feeling less and less like anything has changed. My perception back then was that (painting with a broad brush) the South was openly racist while the North, for the most part, wasn't (it was, but it was better hidden.) I don't believe a lot of people now remember the incidents that provided the material for the movie "Mississippi Burning." I remember showing it in class, and students actually gasped at the opening scene. The real-life resolution didn't quite happen as portrayed, but overall viewers got a good look at how things were (and maybe still are).

The 'social unrest' we are seeing today following the knee-on-the-neck killing of George Floyd hearkens back to the demonstrations and riots of the 60's. I did my six-year stint in the Massachusetts National Guard back then (when it was still the National Guard), and was activated twice for incidents in Boston.

1967 was called 'the long hot summer' and saw 159 race riots across the country. 1968 saw the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert Kennedy, the growing Vietnam war, and the Republican Convention, which was called a 'police riot.' Inside the convention, it was business as usual, but outside, it was pandemonium. As police beat protesters, the chant "The whole world's watching" (You can too, but the film doesn't do it justice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7_9OJnRnZjU )

All too much for any more now.

I close with a couple of Langston Hughes poem.

***

"What happens to a dream deferred?" by Langston Hughes.

"Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?"

***

Warning!

By Langston Hughes

"Negroes,

Sweet and docile,

Meek, humble, and kind:

Beware the day

They change their mind.

Wind

In the cotton fields,

Gentle Breeze:

Beware the hour

It uproots trees!"

THE THIN YELLOW LINE

"Laws are like cobwebs, which may catch small flies, but let wasps and hornets break through."

JONATHAN SWIFT

I don't think it's really that complicated: there are single and double yellow lines on roads as well as broken yellow lines sometimes on either side of a solid line. There are white lines as well, but to keep things simple, I will skip them here - the point will be the same. (And, as an aside, other countries have blue, red, and green lines)

Yellow lines came into being in the 1950's, when they designated parking, waiting, and loading areas. In general, they indicated restrictions of one sort or another. 

Today, many road markings are not paint but are actually thermoplastic which is put in place while hot. The material is more durable than paint, and won't fade as much from being driven over for several years. 

Cutting to the chase, whatever the material, the lines are there to set a standard of behavior; they are 'rules of the road' that people are expected to follow to maintain order and safety. I know now and then, there is a time when someone will ignore the lines and, for whatever reason, scoff at the law to pass someone, etc., but  there are also people who may be selectively blind and don't pay attention to or heed the lines at all. They are of the 'the laws are for other people' ilk.

As long as people acknowledge those lines, things are relatively fine, which gets me to the main point here. There are people who ignore the rules and legalities of things and don't care about much except themselves.

My family members and I are basically rule followers, so, in theory, we don't need any laws. I have said during my teaching years of school and society, there should be only one rule: 'Be appropriate.' Of course, the 'What is appropriate?" becomes the problem. Some people are raised to scoff at the law while others feel they are above any laws because the laws are for the little people.

Bottom line, society is held together by a thin line (blue, yellow, etc), As we are seeing in the news, that line is getting thinner and thinner being stretched almost to a breaking point. As soon as laws no longer matter, we are done. We're getting close.

***

A lawyer (or politician) with his briefcase can steal more than a hundred men with guns." 

MARIO PUZO

A COUPLE OF SNAPSHOTS

Probably 47 years ago, I was teaching in a small private school class when a student strode up to me. He said, "Mr. Berman, is ten thousand a large number?" 

Because I have trouble with simple unqualified answers, I responded, "It depends on the context. If you're talking money to a poor person, it's a small fortune. If you're asking a millionaire, it's not much at all. If you are talking stars, it's a tiny drop in the bucket. What are you asking exactly?"

This student was already one of the entitled class, well on his way to removing himself from 'the little people' as soon as he could. His reply to my question was, "Well, my father works for IBM and he has 10,000 people under him."

Okay. 

That got me thinking. Why did he want me to know that? What was he trying to say? Was it to boost his self esteem? Was it to let me know my station in life? 

I have no idea where he is today, but I tried to use Google to see if I could see what he's up to. I was not successful, but I am sure he is. 

(By the way, is 145,923 a large number?)

I like pretty much everyone until they give me a reason not to. There was another student who lied as easily as I breathe. I learned very quickly not to believe anything he told me. (If I previously shared this next part, forgive me.) He told me he had returned from a stint in the military. I asked him what his MOS was (Military Occupational Specialty). He didn't know what I was talking about; that didn't take long. Although I was in the National Guard when it was, in fact, the National Guard and never federally activated (twice by the state), I was an 11B10 (Light Weapons Infantryman). That's something one does not forget even after 48 years.

Again, why did he have to lie about everything? I have my thoughts, but there is no need to share them here.

Stand on your own. Be the best you can be. Don't lie.



Final thought here: "If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything." Mark Twain.

So, if I tell you I ate Chinese food with Led Zeppelin, believe me. 

JOHNNY LOST HIS WHAT?

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one.” George R.R. Martin

I no longer read as much as I used to; I do read every day, however. My normal reading time is twenty minutes to an hour in bed before going to sleep. If I read during my waking hours, I'd never do anything (back in the day, I once read five books in a weekend, but that was then, and this is now).

My reading of choice is fiction - thrillers, suspense, mysteries, horror, and the like. I am not much on non-fiction; I never have been.

A friend recently let me borrow a copy of Tough as they Come by SSG Travis Mills. It is a biographical memoir. He became one of only five soldiers from the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq to survive a quadruple amputation. The story showed who he was, who he became, and how he got to who he now is. The book can be summarized by a paragraph near the end: "To live in freedom. To go forward. To love your family. To make something of your life. To never give up. To never quit.That's success." Actually, never give up, and never quit are even more to the point. 

The book was incredibly moving and awesomely inspirational! I even got a little misty in a few parts. I think if I met him, I'd probably just break down in tears and hug him. What a success story - I doubt many others in the same boat could endure, grow, and succeed the way he did.   Salute!

The book reminded me of another book I used to teach - Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo. I have often maintained it is one of the greatest horror novels ever written. "This is no ordinary novel. This is a novel that never takes the easy way out: it is shocking, violent, terrifying, horrible, uncompromising, brutal, remorseless and gruesome... but so is war." (Goodreads). It's a tough book to read on many levels - it all takes place in the mind of the main character.

In this story, a young man makes his way back to consciousness to find he has no arms, no legs, no face, no eyes, no hearing, etc., but his mind is fine. He's basically a thinking piece of meat. The book is a worst-case scenario, but it's how it turns out that will make people think twice (or a dozen times) about going to war too easily.

Both books are well worth the read. The first will leave you hopeful; the latter, angry.