Sunday, August 17, 2008

Love beyond death...

This was found at an archaeological dig in Northern Niger. Analysts indicate that is is a women and two children (5 and 8) holding hands. Pollen was found covering them, suggesting that they were buried with flowers covering them. A mother's love for her children lasts beyond their deaths. A dichotomy so wonderful and tragic all in the same moment.

I was struck at how moved I was by this picture. It is all an outgrowth of my thoughts of late.

My son is a fan of the series "Boston Legal." So am I. The friendship between Denny Crane and Allan Shore is something for which I long. Yet this is off the point. IN one episode two lawyers from the firm are sitting in a bar listening to a song called, "Thanks Again." Essentially it is an adult child saying thanks to his/her lifelong friends... Mom and Dad.

I listened and was reminded of my wife's parents. They fit the song almost perfectly. My mind attempted, to no avail, to put my parents into the song. They just didn't fit. I am always surprised, as a child of divorce, how easily may parents failed at their most important role. Further, how long-lasting those effects have been. Hell, I am 42 years old, and I am still learning how to be a decent parent from other people's folks.

Will my wonderful children listen to such a song and wax rhapsodic about how hard I tried to serve them well? Will they ever understand how brilliant I was to con their mother into marrying me (evil grin)? Will they ever understand how much they were loved before they were even a twinkle in our eyes? Given their status as normally developing teenagers (that is to say abnormal in almost every way) there is no way they get it now. Oddly enough, after writing this I am off to my father's for our weekly Sunday dinner with shallow conversation, and tales of the latest neighbor being put into the bishopric. Thank Poseidon for work on Monday...

On the outrageous religious control front... There is a book you will never read entitled "The Jewel of Medina." It is about the 6-year-old girl named Aisha who was married to the Islamic pedophile, and prophet Mohammad. Random House Pulled the book from publication because of fear of offending the religious zealots in Islam. Of course you can read the tale of horrific immoral conduct in the Hadith and Koran, but heaven forbid that it receive scrutiny from rational folk.

As John Hari, of the British newspaper "The Independent" writes:
"Some people will instantly ask: why bother criticising religion if it causes so much hassle? The answer is: look back at our history. How did Christianity lose its ability to terrorise people with phantasms of sin and Hell? How did it stop spreading shame about natural urges – pre-marital sex, masturbation or homosexuality? Because critics pored over the religion's stories and found gaping holes of logic or morality in them. They asked questions. How could an angel inseminate a virgin? Why does the Old Testament God command his followers to commit genocide? How can a man survive inside a whale?"

Reminds me of an H.L. Mencken Quote (He had so many good ones):
The way to deal with superstition is not to be polite to it, but to tackle it with all arms, and so rout it, cripple it, and make it forever infamous and ridiculous. Is it, perchance, cherished by persons who should know better? Then their folly should be brought out into the light of day, and exhibited there in all its hideousness until they flee from it, hiding their heads in shame." - The Baltimore Evening Sun, (September 14, 1925)

My negativity abounds. So what good is there? Fall is on the way. The nights are starting to cool. The sun is setting earlier. The "smell" of the school year is in the air. My grass is green... flowers in full bloom... Trees are heavy with leaves... Nature provides such wonder and peace. Nice to be able to appreciate it.

My in-laws purchased a boat. We went with them to a local dam and spent some time on the water. The day was hot and the water was warm. MY son was the first to jump from the boat into the water. My 60-year-old father in law was next. I was last. We just floated around the boat. Now that is a perfect way to worship on a Utah Summer Sunday.

MY daughter is getting some length and shows physical signs of womanhood. That boys will be thinking of her the way I thought of girls at that age outrages me. Wish I could go back in time and kick my own ass. Instead I will project my emotion unconsciously onto her and be an overprotective bastard. Yeah, that's the ticket... Whimper.