Lindbergh, Education and AT&T

This afternoon, I attempted to contact AT&T to cancel my aging father's Internet service that he quit using three months ago.  I needed to cancel it because payment is automatically deducted on his debit card.  While it might be simple to handle this on the AT&T site, my 89-year old father has difficulty remembering passwords, etc. and fails to write them down ... so I called AT&T after picking up a telephone number from the "contact us" page on their website.  After calling the number and selecting numerous options, I still had not spoken to a person after 15 non-productive minutes, nor had I come close to resolving the situation.  Remember, I'm calling AT&T, the source of all telephone communications since Ma Bell set up her first phone in Boston in 1877, and I can't even talk to a human being.  I ended up calling my trusted bank to resolve the issue, because AT&T clearly is not in the business of customer service and would not be bothered by a physical telephone call.

I held my boiling temper as I chatted with the young man at my dad's bank.  As I did, I recalled a statement by Charles Lindbergh who -- despairing at the effects of 'technological progress' that resulted from his solo, trans-Atlantic flight in 1927 -- reflected in 1964, "I realized if I had to choose, I would rather have birds than airplanes."  Wanting to at least make a point with this young man on AT&T's technological failure, I asked, "How old are you?"

"I'm 28," he answered.

"Do you know who Charles Lindbergh was?"

"I think he was a President of the United States," he answered.

I finished my business and left the young man to his ignorant illusions and misguided education.  Does this country even educate any longer?

The Vitruvian Man Project

If you've come across this, my personal blog, I invite you to visit a project I call The Vitruvian Man.

www.thevitruvianman.org

The Guardian Angel from Carmina Gadelica

“Let me briefly describe the 'ceilidh' [a literary entertainment where stories and tales, poems and ballads, are rehearsed and recited, and songs are sung, conundrums are put, proverbs are quoted, and many other literary matters are related and discussed] as I have seen it.

“In a crofting townland there are several story-tellers who recite the oral literature of their predecessors. The story-tellers of the Highlands are as varied in their subjects as are literary men and women elsewhere. One is a historian narrating events simply and concisely; another is a historian with a bias, colouring his narrative according to his leanings. One is an inventor, building fiction upon fact, mingling his materials, and investing the whole with the charm of novelty and the halo of romance. Another is a reciter of heroic poems and ballads, bringing the different characters before the mind as clearly as the sculptor brings the figure before the eye. One gives the songs of the chief poets, with interesting accounts of their authors, while another, generally a woman, sings, to weird airs, beautiful old songs, some of them Arthurian. There are various other narrators, singers, and speakers, but I have never heard aught that should not be said nor sung.”

Alexander Carmichael

I want to write ...

It has finally occurred to me that I need to post poll results ...

Last week's poll asked what you would rather be: an actor; a musician; an author; or a politician.  The results are in.  Not surprisingly -- at least to me -- no one wanted to be a politician.  I thought at least someone would have wanted to be a thespian, but alas, poor Yorick, no one did!  A meager 20% of respondents wanted to be a musician, and a full 80% would like to be an author.

Fear not, you 80%!  Just do it.  If you have the desire and the discipline, you CAN!

John Paul II

Two events of note took place over the weekend.  One, the killing of Osama bin Laden has and will capture the headlines and newsrooms for days, if not weeks to come.  The other, the beautification of John Paul II has passed in relative obscurity.  Many of you reading this don't know who John Paul II was.  You should.  It strikes me as typical of our human race that we will gladly accept the tsunami of reports regarding the death of one man who has had such a negative impact on the world, while the other who has set an example of godliness, love and kindness will pass by us unnoticed.  We will stare at our televisions and hang on our media devices for every detail surrounding bin Laden's demise, but we will change the channel when a passing word on John Paul's beautification interferes.  You don't have to be Catholic to understand, appreciate and revere the life of Karl Wojtyla, just like you don't have to be a Buddhist to understand, appreciate and revere the life of Siddhartha Gautama.  Look to the future through the eyes of a saint.

Bringing meaning to life ...

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about work, labor, toil, employment, job … whatever name you might use to describe what you are do in life for money.  As I move forward on my new novel, the concept comes to the forefront because I am dealing with slavery in America.  I pause now to reflect on the heart of The Olympian: A Tale of Ancient Hellas.  The worth of a man is not based on what he does for himself – was my premise – rather by what he does for others.  That exact sentiment is contained in this quote by clergyman and social reformer Henry Ward Beecher,

 “Greatness lies not on being strong, but in the right using of strength; and strength is not used rightyly when it serves only to carry a man above his felloss for his own solitary glory.  He is the greatest whose strength carries up the most harts by the attraction of his own.”

 And by John Ruskin, a poet, writer and social thinker in the 19^th century.

 “The highest reward for man’s toil is not what he gets for it, but what he becomes by it.”

 Work hard at whatever you do to lift the hearts of your fellows and inspire them by your own diligence.

Bearing the Cross

As the Christian world approaches its Holy Week, I am reminded of a piece I read one year ago and posted on this blog.  There are two things I know I will personally do every year at this special time:  I will watch Mel Gibson's film "The Passion;" and I will post this piece by Father Rosica in the hope that Hanna's poem reaches all men of good will.  Father Rosica writes ...

“While I was still Catholic Chaplain at the University of Toronto’s Newman Center, a wonderful, elderly Catholic woman confided to me one Good Friday the struggles that she and her family were having with the acceptance of the cross as the central symbol of the Christian life.  The woman wept as she expressed concern about her own daughter’s troubled faith, and she shared with me a poem that her daughter, Hanna had written about the cross.

“Far from describing a lack of faith, the poem reveals the raw faith and deep love that the mystery of Good Friday elicits from all Christians throughout the world on this day.  The poem reads: