What’s the matter?! My friend Gary talks about leaving SF because all the people rolling in with money flying out of their pockets buying $11 burritos.
I like this ORs response highlighted in this article from the Dyrt
What’s the matter?! My friend Gary talks about leaving SF because all the people rolling in with money flying out of their pockets buying $11 burritos.
I like this ORs response highlighted in this article from the Dyrt
I had just finished jogging around College Hill when I heard screaming that didn’t seem too far away. I walked toward the screaming / Hamilton Ave. to make sure everyone was o.k.?!
As I got closer to Hamilton I could see a young couple screaming at each other near the bus stop. Is this any of my business? Can I help? ahhh, I’ll try…. I walked over to see if I could help.
Upon approaching, the couple got a little more quiet… I asked them, “If they needed any help, is everyone o.k.?” My strategy was to listen and let the storm run its course.
The emphatic young man then proceeded to tell me he’s trying as hard as he can, he’s homeless, tired, pissed, and feeling like giving up… His girlfriend was quiet and not saying much — she was quietly ripping apart a McDonalds’ cup and listening. I finally was able to get her talking a bit. She told me about the boyfriend breaking a window and getting the two of them kicked out and they’re both homeless. The young man told me he was doing the best for the baby in his girl’s belly. I was caught up in all the emotions flying around that I didn’t notice the young woman was pregnant. My heart sank thinking these “kids” aren’t going to get far together and could use a little help. We kept talking and the two of them were finally able to talk.
I asked them if they needed a ride instead of taking the bus. They gladly accepted. I went to my house and grabbed my car and a few dollars. Neither of them had asked for any money. I just wanted to give 2 ‘nice’ homeless kids a little boost.
As I was driving the young man was really thankful and apologized for his actions. He said both of them were just tired and hot after a day of walking around. I proceeded to give them unsolicited “dad” advice. Most importantly that working together with their new child will be exponentially easier together than going it alone.
I pulled out the money I grabbed and gave it to them. In my rear view mirror, I could see them looking at each other in disbelief. They hugged each other and started crying — which quickly turned into me tearing up.
We could all use a little outside boost. Best of luck Chris and Quayla!
#weareallinthistogether #love #bethechange 🙂
“Peace is not merely a distant goal we seek, but a means by which we arrive at that goal.”
– Martin Luther King Jr
“Peace is the only battle worth waging.”
– Albert Camus
“Peace cannot be kept by force, it can only be achieved by understanding.”
– Albert Einstein
“Peace is a fulltime job. It’s protecting civilians, overseeing elections, and disarming ex-combatants. Peace, like war, must be waged.”
– George Clooney
“Hatred ever kills, love never dies. Such is the vast difference between the two… The duty of a human being is to diminish hatred and to promote love.” ~Mahatma Gandhi
“It isn’t enough to talk about peace. One must believe in it. And it isn’t enough to believe in it. One must work at it.”
– Eleanor Roosevelt
“If someone thinks that love and peace is a cliché that must have been left behind in the Sixties, that’s his problem. Love and peace are eternal.”
– John Lennon
“You have heard that it was said, “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But I say to you, if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also… Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you so that you may be children of your Father in heaven.” ~Jesus
“Love courses through everything. No, love is everything. How can you say, there is no love, when nothing but love exists? All that you see has appeared because of love. All shines from love, All pulses from love, All flows from love– No, once again, All is love!” ~Fakhruddin ‘Iraqi
“When we see God in each other we will be able to live in peace.” ~Mother Teresa
“If you want peace, you don’t talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.”
– Archbishop Tutu
“In this world, hate never dispelled hate. Only love dispels hate. This is the law, ancient and inexhaustible.” ~The Buddha
“Courageous people do not fear forgiving for the sake of peace.”
– Nelson Mandela
“You cannot shake hands with a clenched fist.”
– Mahatma Gandhi
“The more we sweat in peace, the less we bleed in war.”
– Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit
“The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides and gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on that day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have discovered fire.” ~Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
“Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one. I hope someday you’ll join us, and the world will be as One.” ~John Lennon
“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as if everything is.” ~Albert Einstein
“Every blade of grass has its angel that bends over it and whispers, ‘Grow, grow.’ ” ~The Talmud
“See simplicity in the complicated, seek greatness in small things. In the Universe, the difficult things are done ss if they were easy.” ~Lao Tsu
“Peace is always beautiful.”
– Walt Whitman
Plants can produce sounds and make music. A special device measures the electrical resistance of vegetable tissues and turn it into a MIDI signal.
I’ve been lucky. but also devoted to interests. Good genes. Good ordinary health maintenance. No cigarettes. No coffee. Ordinary exercise. Boil it down: have a good, serious goal to believe in, and work to it. That’s the key, I think: a set of values bigger than I, to conform to and to work for. Those values are not the whole story of life—just the backbone. You’ve heard details from everyone. My theme: find something bigger than yourself or your future to believe in, to serve, to be guided by. For me it was medicine, the demands of surgery, and finally in later years, faith in the power of love to make things whole.
just the backbone for life
IamA 93 Year Old Retired Surgeon, US Marine Corps Battalion Surgeon late in the Korean War, Playwright, and Author. I just finished my third novel; it’s about the crazy early days of transplant surgery. Ask me Anything! AMA! from IAmA
I’ve been lucky. but also devoted to interests. Good genes. Good ordinary health maintenance. No cigarettes. No coffee. Ordinary exercise. Boil it down: have a good, serious goal to believe in, and work to it. That’s the key, I think: a set of values bigger than I, to conform to and to work for. Those values are not the whole story of life—just the backbone. You’ve heard details from everyone. My theme: find something bigger than yourself or your future to believe in, to serve, to be guided by. For me it was medicine, the demands of surgery, and finally in later years, faith in the power of love to make things whole.just the backbone for life
The Highest Quality Supplements and Protein and the Lowest Prices
Source: True Nutrition
“You might not care if Donald Trump says Muslims should register with their government, because you’re not one and you might not care if Donald Trump says he’s going to round up all the Hispanic immigrants, because you’re not one. And you might not care if Donald Trump says it’s okay to rough up black protesters, because you’re not one. And you might not care if Donald Trump wants to suppress journalists, because you’re not one. But think about this: If he keeps going, and he actually becomes president, he might just get around to you. And you better hope there’s someone left to help you.”
-Retired Air Force Col. Tom Moe (Republican)
More Facebook Memories:
Something *really* cool that happened today: Ian asked me how God knows if one should be a boy or a girl. I told him, “Well, I was thinking that before you are born into your body, you might decide what lessons are really important for you to learn in life. You might then decide if you would be more likely to learn those lessons as a boy or a girl, as someone who lives in America or Germany, as someone with a brain injury or someone without.” Emmett was sitting next to us, and popped up and started yelling “Yeah!!!!” over and over again, looking directly into my eyes and smiling. It was an incredible moment.
good ol carnism… 🙁
A little reality bump. If anyone is interested in the day-to-day stresses and joys of a parent with a severely brian injured child and trying to keep hold of some semblance of reality – here ya go.
Sometimes I’m challenged mentally and physically to the edge of my limits as a dad and for some reason I continue these challenges on my bike. The hardest race I’ve completed is a 100 mile MTB race with 17,500′ of climbing with my *always* inspiring friend Jason, that took us 16 hours to complete. That race was incredibly challenging, but in some ways felt like a walk in the park and doesn’t even compare to some of my ‘harder’ days as a parent of a brain injured child. These parenting stressors help build me to a new level of strength while simultaneously ripping me apart and breaking me to tears. Primarily because I have no choice but to continue moving forward regardless of the current painful struggle. Dara and I do a pretty amazing job of balancing life with the difficulties and continuous curve balls that get thrown our way. We have nurtured a relationship unlike anything I could’ve imagined prior to kids. Love for our family, friends and life is at the highest level. Dara is so good for me spiritually. I think one reason I became a vegan is the awareness that life is a precious gift for every living and breathing animal and I don’t want to take a day in the sun or rain away from them.
We struggle with ‘family’ things to do because it’s so labor intensive to take Emmett anywhere. Just taking him out to the van is work. With a simple shift I view this as exercise to keep me healthy and try not to view it as work anymore – bring it! We have to plan his, water, food, meds, diaper changes, parking and the BIG mystery is we don’t know what mood he’ll be in when we travel yet alone get to our destination. We’ve made many attempts to include him in as much stuff as we can but this often fails or backfires and makes good intentions feel like shit. We’ve made attempts to do family vacations with Emmett but the activities and things that Ian and Kenzie are interested in Emmett could care less about and or physically can’t do them. This year we even tried to organize a small family trip without Emmett but we couldn’t get enough back to back nursing and aid staff to stay with Emmett 24/7. Finding the family balance is hard. Traveling is very limited or a crap ton of work and highly stressful for us. I’ve tried to create as awesome of a home space for Ian and Kenzie to play.
I think I’m writing this as my own personal therapy. If anyone is still reading, thanks! Yesterday I ‘raced’ in the Hyde Park Blast. I knew I couldn’t take everyone to the race for obvious reason mentioned above so I asked Ian if he wanted to come. Kenzie didn’t like this idea and she wanted to come too which turned into Dara really wanting to bring the entire family. Which turned into stress… which made my pains come to the surface that my family can’t do things together and can’t even come to watch me ride my bike around which I knew they all really wanted to. These feelings happen often and my conscience keeps me with my family and I can’t make it through the door for a ride, race or simply going somewhere with friends. I have to sense that my family is at a calm and safe place before I leave. Is Dara in a good space that she can manage Emmett. Emmett not having a good day pretty much dictates my sense of freedom.
After much hemhaw’n I finally left with Ian for the race and my stressed out feeling started to surface on my drive over to the race. I felt that I should share them with anyone that wants to read ’em and it’d be good for me to get them out. I got to the race in less than adequate time to get my number and I got a warning from the volunteer for showing up late. I had zero warm up and barely got my number pinned on. I didn’t do a good job and CJ helped me re-pin. Luckily, Nick Petrov was kind enough to tell me I still had my shorts on over my bibs. Getting to the race and seeing smiling friends / racers was awesome. As the race started I quickly remembered that I haven’t done crit racing in a long time. My intentions were to keep the rubber side down and finish the race. Let’s be honest, I wouldn’t mind wining, but that clearly wasn’t going to happen with my 2 year hiatus from any road racing.
I could here John Gatch making fun of me for my Darth Vader helmet and still having my saddle bag on. Scot didn’t use every moment to pick on me like Gatch. Still, I love both those dudes and the flavor they bring to racing is great. They’re high-quality humans and really fast! It’s really fun to be cheered around the course by people yelling your name! You begin looking forward to certain cheering sections. Especially when you’re at that point in a race questioning your sanity.
Somehow I manage to slide out on the tight 180 and find myself sliding across the ground into the Element Cycles tent and Kevin Severs. Kevin gives me encouraging words (which I can’t remember due to lack of oxygen) and I get up and roll over to Corey asking for a ‘crash’ lap. Corey is another incredible person that I love seeing at bike ‘races.’ He helps build the community that is so fostering to personal development – primarily kids cycling. I get back in the mix and try to say hi to Ian hanging out at the fastest part of the course and the bottom of the hill. I could never see him because I was dealing with people feathering their brakes going down the hill. Maybe my fat butt kept me accelerating by them at the bottom or they just didn’t know how to turn?! The race definitely invigorated all sorts of feelings and emotions that I’m alive. Combined with the challenge of keeping it all together. I did have one small victory of finishing the race without being pulled..
After the race I was walking with Ian and he asked me, “What happened? You were doing really good dad and then you weren’t? So, I started to pray for you…” This gave me such a wonderful feeling knowing that my family and friends are awesome.
I went home with a hop in my step. With a grateful attitude and a positive mindset, completing a race will elevate you even if you’re mid-packing.
In so many ways riding a bike parallels life. You find that balance that allows you to float like magic over roads, gravel, mud, dirt, etc… When met with challenges you summon the strength to push on through. Here’s to a bike and racing community that helps drive people towards physical and mental health. Here’s to friends and family that help all of us move forward and feel alive!
(Facebook repost from June 30th 2014)
To My Old Master
In August of 1865, a Colonel P.H. Anderson of Big Spring, Tennessee, wrote to his former slave, Jourdon Anderson, and requested that he come back to work on his farm. Jourdon — who, since being emancipated, had moved to Ohio, found paid work, and was now supporting his family — responded spectacularly by way of the letter seen below (a letter which, according to newspapers at the time, he dictated).
Rather than quote the numerous highlights in this letter, I’ll simply leave you to enjoy it. Do make sure you read to the end.
UPDATE: Head over to Kottke for a brief but lovely little update about the later years of Jourdon and family.
(Source: The Freedmen’s Book; Image: A group of escaped slaves in Virginia in 1862, courtesy of the Library of Congress.)
August 7, 1865
To My Old Master, Colonel P.H. Anderson, Big Spring, Tennessee
Sir: I got your letter, and was glad to find that you had not forgotten Jourdon, and that you wanted me to come back and live with you again, promising to do better for me than anybody else can. I have often felt uneasy about you. I thought the Yankees would have hung you long before this, for harboring Rebs they found at your house. I suppose they never heard about your going to Colonel Martin’s to kill the Union soldier that was left by his company in their stable. Although you shot at me twice before I left you, I did not want to hear of your being hurt, and am glad you are still living. It would do me good to go back to the dear old home again, and see Miss Mary and Miss Martha and Allen, Esther, Green, and Lee. Give my love to them all, and tell them I hope we will meet in the better world, if not in this. I would have gone back to see you all when I was working in the Nashville Hospital, but one of the neighbors told me that Henry intended to shoot me if he ever got a chance.
I want to know particularly what the good chance is you propose to give me. I am doing tolerably well here. I get twenty-five dollars a month, with victuals and clothing; have a comfortable home for Mandy,—the folks call her Mrs. Anderson,—and the children—Milly, Jane, and Grundy—go to school and are learning well. The teacher says Grundy has a head for a preacher. They go to Sunday school, and Mandy and me attend church regularly. We are kindly treated. Sometimes we overhear others saying, “Them colored people were slaves” down in Tennessee. The children feel hurt when they hear such remarks; but I tell them it was no disgrace in Tennessee to belong to Colonel Anderson. Many darkeys would have been proud, as I used to be, to call you master. Now if you will write and say what wages you will give me, I will be better able to decide whether it would be to my advantage to move back again.
As to my freedom, which you say I can have, there is nothing to be gained on that score, as I got my free papers in 1864 from the Provost-Marshal-General of the Department of Nashville. Mandy says she would be afraid to go back without some proof that you were disposed to treat us justly and kindly; and we have concluded to test your sincerity by asking you to send us our wages for the time we served you. This will make us forget and forgive old scores, and rely on your justice and friendship in the future. I served you faithfully for thirty-two years, and Mandy twenty years. At twenty-five dollars a month for me, and two dollars a week for Mandy, our earnings would amount to eleven thousand six hundred and eighty dollars. Add to this the interest for the time our wages have been kept back, and deduct what you paid for our clothing, and three doctor’s visits to me, and pulling a tooth for Mandy, and the balance will show what we are in justice entitled to. Please send the money by Adams’s Express, in care of V. Winters, Esq., Dayton, Ohio. If you fail to pay us for faithful labors in the past, we can have little faith in your promises in the future. We trust the good Maker has opened your eyes to the wrongs which you and your fathers have done to me and my fathers, in making us toil for you for generations without recompense. Here I draw my wages every Saturday night; but in Tennessee there was never any pay-day for the negroes any more than for the horses and cows. Surely there will be a day of reckoning for those who defraud the laborer of his hire.
In answering this letter, please state if there would be any safety for my Milly and Jane, who are now grown up, and both good-looking girls. You know how it was with poor Matilda and Catherine. I would rather stay here and starve—and die, if it come to that—than have my girls brought to shame by the violence and wickedness of their young masters. You will also please state if there has been any schools opened for the colored children in your neighborhood. The great desire of my life now is to give my children an education, and have them form virtuous habits.
Say howdy to George Carter, and thank him for taking the pistol from you when you were shooting at me.
From your old servant,
I had to leave my family and lots of friends all camping out at Winton Woods and take Emmett home so he could sleep. Bumming super hard because everyone was having a great time except Emmett. Emmett was crying — that sucked. Getting home and realizing everyone was back at the party / campground sucked. Is this my life? Is this what I do from now until the end of time?
I was going through old emails and found a few from Charles Warman and decided to do a search for him. Looks like he passed from this earth October of 2015.
I helped Charles make his web site, The Third Organon. He was filled with love, life and we would talk about philosophy.
Here’s some great emails he sent me in 2010:
Any child with the name of Emmitt Jameson O’Louglin
will surely triumph in this life.
The photographs are touching. How blessed you are
and how blessed you know yourself to be. I’m led to
believe that God chose you and your wife to be the
special persons that your children need because you
have risen to the challenge (as He knew you would).
In doing so, James, you hearten and inspire lesser
persons to do those lesser tasks He has assigned
them, knowing beforehand, of course that these
lesser challenges may be all they can handle.
I hope you do not think it is presumptuous of me
to say what I believe to be true. We will always
be good friends. At least I hope that you will see
me as a candidate for such a level of friendship.
Time will tell. I believe it will affirm my judgment.
My maternal grandmother came from County Cork,
and lived to be 92.
You will appreciate this about her.
She loved a small bucket of beer of an evening,
but my mother did not want her to do so, for
reasons she never disclosed.
Thus Grandman enlisted me in an ongoing
conspiracy to get beer for her from the bar
next door, without Mom knowing what the
hell was going on. Grandma lived on the
second floor of our home. When she wished
to engage me to get her bucket of beer filled
with suds, she’d summon me in a stage
whisper from the top of the stairs: CHARLES,
COME UPSTAIRS, I WANT TO SEE YOU.
She’d give me a dime, I’d descend the stairs
as quietly as a young chid/older child/
adolescent (this was a conspiracy that lasted
for maybe a decade and a half) could, open
the door to the side yard, and dash to Nieman’s
Cafe for a fill-up. The bucket filled, I’d ascend
the stairs as silently as I had descended them.
When I reached Grandma with her bucket of
beer, she’d happily pull on a lobe of my ear
and say these inscrutable words: Ah Charles,
you’re a bully boy with a glass eye!
So the ritual went for many years, from about
1932 to 1942.
I neglected to point out why I loved this duty,
When I reached the landing halfway to her
rooms, I volunteered (never was asked) to
be her beer-taster, faithfully quaffing a bit
of beer to make certain it was safe for her
Will be in touch, James.
Since you minored in philosophy at Miami, and
obviously are endowed with smarts, I hope that
you will share your thinking with me about materials
I send for the website.
I hope, too, that we can exchange views on
To initiate a discussion I’ll share some thoughts
about those philosophers I regard as the best or
the worst. (I recognize it may be some time before
you respond.) This will be my only reference to
philosophers. The next will be yours.
The best: Aristotle, the philosophical realist
extraordinaire. The best thinking that helped
me to prepare to be a teacher came from him.
The worst: (difficult to choose as there are so
many “worthy” candidates) David Hume. That
Hume could be named the greatest canglophone
philosopher merely serves as a datum of the
lowly state left in English philosophy after Hume
reviewed his own work in order to win attention
(His “proof” that miracles are impossible stands
as an indictment of his thinking. His premise is
his conclusion in slightly different dress. He thus gave
us one of the best-ever examples of circular
reasoning. But what else could we expect from a
celebrity-seeking, not truth-seeking, observer
or humanity and reality, to both of which he was
blinded by his atheism.)
After meeting you and discussing matters of mutual
interest, familial and intellectual, I am led to believe
that there are three children of the ‘loughlin clan
in these precincts who are blessed to have the
father they have.
You are kinder and more charitable than you can
realize. How forbearing you were yesterday to listen
to my interminable blather — and again today —
especially when you have tons of work to do. I hope
that you will forgive me for both intrusions of your time.
How difficult must be your task after your workday
has ended and your true labor of love begins. But
from what I have learned about the senior O-loughlin
he will be more than equal to the challenge — be-
cause he has character.
It troubles me greatly, James, that one of your
children has the disability you described. What
comes to my mind is the belief that God never
assigns challenges greater than our capacity
to handle them.
I hope that the Mind & the Brain may help you
better understand your child’s impairment.
Perhaps you will gain insights that you now
need and that have been beyond your reach
It was my pleasure to meet you. I look forward
to working with you on The Third Organon.com.
God bless you and yours.