Monday, August 31, 2009

Who is sitting around your table?

There are certainly ties of blood that bind us. There are certainly ties of friendship that bind us. There are certainly ties of love that bind us. Who is to say which is stronger?

I've been extremely blessed over the course of my life to encounter wonderful people with whom I've had familial relationships. The first I can remember is Grandma Berry. I had Grandma Farnsworth (paternal), Grandma Triplett (maternal) and Grandma Berry. It's just how the world was. Grandma Berry had a huge berry farm (there's a story behind how she got the name), and we'd go see her a few times a year. She's my mom's best high school friend's mom.

When I was 12, my brother moved from Cheney, WA, to Canby. I didn't know it at the time, of course. We became brothers when we were 15, probably. More on Sean later. About that same time, I gained another set of parents, Paul and Carol Hawkins.

After Katrina and I married (how similar is this to a true, deep, and love-filled friendship?) I gained another set of parents and a brother through her. Then I gained a daughter, and then we found yet another grandma after we moved to California. Even though we've been gone for more years than we lived there, Grandma Joyce comes up for births and baptisms, and I meet with her whenever I can when I'm in the Bay Area for business.

Now that Aria is entering 4th grade, she has friends who come over often. They sit with our family for dinner, do scripture study with us, go to church with us, help clean the house when we're all cleaning the house. This is life at the Farnsworth's: if you are in our home, you're family. We love you, we'll take care of you, and you're always welcome.

What brought this line of thought on is a magical moment in our camping trip last weekend. Sean and his 2 boys, Aria, Christian, and I hiked a few miles into Marion Lake. Just as it was when we were teens, Sean and I rarely have anything to figure out. When we're together, our kids are shared, food is shared, frisbees, equipment, time, everything is shared. It's so natural and easy that I don't have to even think about stepping on toes. The kids understand and catch it. On our way home, we stopped at Al's for dinner (Mill City - highly recommended). There were 6 chairs around the table. Clockwise, it was me, Sean, Aria, Djeryd, Christian, Eric. Our families were perfectly blended, every other person a Hawkins or a Farnsworth. Everyone was happy, making jokes and being together.

And nobody even noticed that it might be odd. This is who we were: a loving family. I'd do anything for those kids. And Sean would, too. And they'd all help each other equally.

Who is at your table? And how are they joined to you? Blood? Love? Friendship? Can you decide which are more important?

That Government Bureaucrat is Not Some Zany Villain - She's My Mom

When Republicans get on the media to talk about healthcare reform these days, they always take pains to insult my mother. Yes, my very own mommy. For she is the person they have cast into the role of death-deciding villain.

My mother works for the State of Oregon in the Department of Senior and Disabled Services. She has a degree as a Medical Assistant, which she uses every day as she helps people who are elderly and/or disabled to get the assistance they need to survive. She is a government bureaucrat. She is not a nameless, faceless villain who tries her best to deny people the help they need to survive. Admittedly, she is disappointed by how often the system is exploited. But she is also gratified that she can help as many people as she can.

Have you met people who live on welfare? I have. I have relatives who have abused the system their whole lives. I have other relatives who really really tried to make it, but needed the stopgap to get back up on their feet and become self-sufficient. Will any social-good system be exploited? Certainly. There are certainly people who receive charity from churches and nonprofits who could make it on their if they cared to.

Does that mean that we should stop these programs? I say no. There are too many examples I know of people really need help. My church teaches that when someone is in need, we shouldn't blame the needy person. We should give if we can. And if we can't, we should be able to honestly tell ourselves, "I can't help this person, but I would if I could."

For instance, I know someone very well who has serious health issues. She was unable to keep a stable job, and of course unable to afford health insurance. The situation wasn't one she chose, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Thankfully, she has been able to pull through it, and now is glad to contribute her tax dollars to helping others in the same situation. Another family member paid into these programs her whole life, and never expected to be on the receiving end. Through a terrible chain of events that tore her life apart, she depends on help from the government to survive.

No matter the program, there will be a pool of money, people who want the money, and people who decide how the money gets distributed. Some people who want the money won't deserve it. Some people who distribute the money will make bad choices. But that's what we got, because we aren't omniscient. We can leave someone with lupus to die on the street, or we can help them. It certainly isn't any individual's choice to become sick.

So don't blame the bureaucrats. They're not the bad guys here. The bad guys in the health care debate are those who refuse to be the Good Samaritan. Wasn't the guy who made up that story a Christian? Somebody named Jesus?

Monday, August 24, 2009

Movie Review: The Message

As part of my ongoing study of Islam, I was loaned a copy of "The Message". I started it 2 months ago, and got back to finish it yesterday. It's not a typical film, so I'll start with some context for how the film was made.

The film's genesis was to make a movie in English about the prophet Muhammad (hat tip to Wikipedia). Islam, however, forbids visual and audio depictions of Muhammad or his immediate family. So you never see his face or hear his voice. The film had many muslims as advisors to ensure its accuracy. The film's initial Hollywood backers dropped out, and the film ended financed by Muamman al-Quadafi. Yes, that one. The film's release sparked protests, and even a huge hostage crisis in the US.

On to the film: it was released in 1976. Anthony Quinn plays Muhammad's uncle Hamza. The acting style is definitely melodramatic, so don't expect a "Shadowlands" kind of subtlety in the acting. The script is also stunted in the same way. It's too bad, really, that such a great story was taken over the top this way. So if you're looking for entertainment, I'd not recommend this movie.

The movie, however, is wonderful as a cultural and religious education. For starters, it is the only movie about Muhammad that Muslims are allowed to watch. That's quite an accomplishment in and of itself. It was filmed in Libya and Morocco, also important to give it authenticity. The film depicts very clearly the torture and execution of the early Muslims. Not too bloody, and the camera turns away as the spear goes into the victim's chest. But you hear it, and this stuff happened. Somebody actually died that way for their faith.

We learn that Islam's call that everyone be equal upset the social order: no more slaves, no more peasants. That Islam's requirement that all Muslims be brothers upset the tribal system of distributing justice. The guys in charge were very happy to stay that way, thank you very much. The idea that common people should learn to read aligned all of Mecca's powerful people against the Muslims, and very nearly stamped it out. We also learn that even at its beginnings, Islam was a religion of peace, the same as it is today.

It's not a popcorn movie - I'd consider it a real-time documentary of Islam's beginnings. It should be required viewing for all US voters, though. The value of some measure of understanding on Confucian, Buddhist, Hindu, and Muslim ways of thinking is invaluable. In this time in world history, we all owe it to each other to try to understand the world at large. The steps we take today and in the next 15 years will echo for the next century. Let's not waste it.

A Belated Trip Into English Literature: Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator

I have very fond memories of Mrs Brockart, my 2nd grade teacher, reading "James and the Giant Peach" to us. I was a Roald Dahl fan for life. Turns out I didn't read anything of his myself until last year, when I burned through "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". It was a winner, so I picked up a bunch of used paperbacks at Powell's. James and the Peach? Witches? Yep and yep.

Today's review is "Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator", predictably the sequel to the Chocolate Factory. It is a fanciful and entertaining read. It is also almost completely nonsensical. Not the "The Unconsoled" kind of nonsensical, but a "These are humans in this story, but nothing in here makes any sense whatsoever" kind of nonsensical. I liked it, once I got on for the ride.

The book is really a series of chronological vignettes, with no plot line, climax, or denouement. Remember the essential elements of a story from jr high? Forget them. The book is fun to read, but not engrossing, and easily forgotten. There are pieces (vicious Knids, Wonka-vite) that will stay with me. And Dahl's poetry is just wondrous. But there are no life-lessons to be learned here, no deeper meaning to ruminate on, and no characters that are complete enough to connect with.

My take-away: I hope that somedy I can write some poetry as uncluttered from reality as the gems in this book. It's worth the read just for that.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

A Belated Trip Into English Literature: Fahrenheit 451

Welcome to today, class! The pieces of Bradbury's classic are immediately available here and now: flat TVs that take up whole walls, TV programs filled with characters who really do, say, and are nobody in particular. Where children are taught to read, but nothing is ever printed. Where people who are wealthy prey on the poor and don't care about it even if they know about it.

Paper burns at 451 deg Fahrenheit. The protagonist's job is to burn books where he finds them, until he realizes that the current state of affairs is no way to live at all. He turns on the system by degrees, losing his entire way of life and gaining a new one.

Bradbury paints his verbal portraits in bold strokes - mixing words together to get his effect, grammar notwithstanding. At times it comes a bit too quickly - the most momentous moments in the book go by in a blur of a few sentences. He takes quite a bit longer to describe how a character feels at a single given moment.

I loved how he set up the book, and the first half is a really great read. It's intriguing, complicated, and has so many parallels to the media-marinated world Americans live in. The last half has a lot of physical action, and Bradbury leaves too much to the imagination in too many places. It's still cool. A predictable denouement, probably more so because of the post-Bradbury imitators than that Bradbury was predictable. I would have liked the book to be longer because the ending wasn't neat. It is one big loose end that needs attention.

The book isn't long, it goes by quickly, and it has a lot of lessons for us as we travel down the slippery slope of life lit by backlit screens. Read it, and especially make your teenagers read it.

Next: Ulysses (for real. Yeah. But give it a few months, ok? It's super-dense.)