EPIPHANY OF THE DAY

EDUCATION

 It always amazes me when a cult member in one breath denounces education and in the next claims various politicians warrant emulation and support because they graduated from Ivy League law schools. It is as if the ability to hold and act upon diametrically opposing thoughts is a prerequisite for cult membership.

Further observation leads to some assumptions. For the cult member:

-          Education that leads to social acceptance is bad.

-          Education that builds or upholds power is good.

-          Education that improves life is a blessing bestowed by a deity.

-          Education that explains the universe is evil when not in strict compliance with holy books.

We are left with the necessity to form our own decisions regarding our feelings toward education. This leads to some troublesome crossroads:

-          Educated research and analysis may conflict with long held beliefs.

-          Education may teach us to be more adept at doing evil.

-          Picking and choosing the results of education can bolster our reverence for the ridiculous.

-          Stated by the powerful and respected, with enough repetition, education can be twisted to induce regrettable results in a populace moved by fear, not logic.

When used intelligently, education can be good:

-          People in America live free from many historic diseases because of education.

-          We understand so much of our world, from geology to evolution, because of education.

-          We understand the confounding complexities of trying to understand history because of education.

-          Education can help free us from primal fears, many caused by being raised in a cult.

-          And so forth.

The trick is not to conflate education and the wisdom that guides our lives. Two of the wisest, and most competent men who have guided my life each garnered an eighth-grade education. One carried the mental scars of being called “A dirty Hun” in his youth. The other carried physical scars that justified his Purple Heart Medal.

Each could have built a complete house without resorting to a single written note.

Education comes from many sources, some good, some bad. Intelligence growing from education can be used, as can a surgeons’ scalpel, for good or evil. Wisdom born of learning and doing, and dedicated to the common good is, as Shakespeare once wrote, “a consummation devoutly to be wished.”

Wake Up Call

“My Sainted Mother used to wake us up with a loud shrill, “Wake up Jacob! Day’s a’breaking,” It was one of the few occasions during which I thought ill of her. I’m sure she learned the practice deep in the woods of Cleveland County, Arkansas. It was particularly annoying of a Monday morning. Indeed, on a school day it produced thoughts of revenge. I would envision informing the world about the package of Kool cigarettes that she kept hidden in a jacket in her closet, accessible when we kids were all away.

My father had a less annoying but even more efficacious manner of getting us up and moving. “I ain’t sayin’ it again.” That caused three sets of feet to hit the cold floor.

These days our foster puppy, Daisy the Demon Dog, communicates her wakeup announcement telepathically, something along the lines of, “You can’t begin to imagine what a mess I can make if you don’t get in here and get some din-din ready.” It works. After morning ablutions, she loves to initiate the entertainment portion of the day with a game she calls, “Tug on the fat man’s robe.” That often results in incarceration, a punishment devoutly deplored.

A careful reader can see why I have put so much thought into how to awaken my sleeping spouse of a morning. Here’s what I try.

First, I make sure that she does not cradle her little friend, “Mr, Louisville,” but, rather, it is safely out of reach under the bed.

Next, I approach softly, still out of reach of harm’s way. “Missy,” I start. “All the other pretty little girls are up already.” 

This generally brings forth a series of oaths that would have made Captain Lucky Jack Aubrey take notes.

Then I try, “I think Matthew McConaughey has dropped by to see you. He brought the guys from ZZ Top with him.” That brings only a smile.

Then it is decision time. If I see a hand reach down and under the bed, I initiate a strategic withdrawal. Same-same if there is a hard cover book within her reach.

As I reach the bedroom door, my courage generally returns. I’ll wheel with the resolute courage of a young Audie Murphy, and emit my next invite.

“I think maybe it’s time for you to think about getting up. The light over yon horizon is breaking.” Like mother, like son.

Thereupon I flee. That final exoneration has produced flying objects weighing in excess of ten pounds. I close the bedroom door softly with a final challenge, “There’s a good, hot, fresh pot of coffee waiting for you when you get up.”

That’s how you stay married for 47 years, young fellers.

Early on, I learned
to avoid this look.

Don't Get Me Started: December 1, 2017

Sometimes I want to teach how to run a small business. How does this relate to the fact that my trophy wife spent yesterday on top of a pump house? All day. With me steppin’ and fetchin’ tools and cutting up roofing shingles?

It’s like this. Out where our farm is located, you can’t hire anyone to do small jobs. I’m not even sure you can hire anyone to do big ones that easily. Oh, let me revise my premise. You might find someone if you are willing to ignore multiple stays in prison, severe meth addiction, and the stickiest fingers this side of Las Vegas, in the hiring.

We’re a little choosy.

Oh, we asked around and were referred to a man who “just loved” to do small jobs. He actually made it out to the farm to look at the job on the second try at an appointed time. He said he would check some material prices and get back with us. That was nearly three months ago.

So, we finally “backed our ears,” as Sainted Mother would say, and did it ourselves, my wife and I. We succeeded, she serving as “La Jefa” and me as “Jimmie Gofetch.” It’s done now and we can move on. To hell with the local contractor.

Honestly, I don’t know how people expect a business to succeed like that. I could have understood it if the man had said, “that’s not really my can of beer.” Disappearing, though, strikes him off the list for any future work or referrals. Consider too, that between my wife and her family, they know practically everyone in the county. It doesn’t take long for failure to overtake a person. Ask the former politician who lost an election by a dozen or so votes after she was rude to the Lady Hazel, my mother-in-law.

I think about small business success sometimes when I’m travelling the back roads of the state and come across an abandoned diner or retail shop on a road that maybe handles 100 vehicles on a good day in an area with a population of one person per square mile.

What has gotten into people? Has the act of contemplating reality disappeared from our national psyche? Never mind. Don’t answer that.

On the other hand, someone very close to me asked me once about going into business for himself. He was highly skilled, honest, dependable, hard-working, and well-liked, so we could avoid the initial threshold requirements. Also, the market was there. My advice?

- First: retain an accountant and pay attention

- Next: Pay your taxes,

- Pay your subcontractors,

- Pay your employees,

- Pay you creditors,

- Pay yourself last, and

- Do what you agreed to do, maybe a bit more.

It’s fairly simple. Long story short: He’s working on his second or third million now. I’m not sure which. He still lives in the same house he and his wife bought when they first married, when he was working on salary. Sometimes in my envy, I wonder if my advice was too good, or whether he just had a knack for it. I do know that he’s done two jobs for me at a bit more than two-thirds the figure the competition quoted and his crews arrived a bit early (from an hour and a half away) and finished before the estimated time.

I have people stop and ask me if we are related. Guess.

Too bad he doesn’t fix roofs. Maybe we wouldn’t have had to spend all day yesterday fixing one, and at our age at that.

Sure