PARENTING IN AMERICA---INCREASING THE ODDS

PARENTING IN AMERICA---INCREASING THE ODDS

Worry over what is wrong with our kids is becoming a serious concern which cuts across ethnicities, age and income cohorts, and rural, suburban and urban classifications.

Be it, teenage, unwed mothers, heroin over-dose cases in affluent enclaves, random acts of unmanageably atrophies, or sky-rocketing rates of young adult suicides, the signs of the total collapse of family and community are everywhere.

Certainly, there is no shortage of remedies in the market place.

Take pills, eat healthy, exercise, live in a tree house, love your parents/hate your parents, go away to boarding school, be home schooled or get over it.

Child development experts, from Dr. Spock, to Dr. Brazelton and, now, Dr Phil have been more than ready to say what a normal child could be, if only, they were “appropriately” nurtured.


Even with our own children to learn from, our knowledge and perception of children has come, in no small part large part, from, surprise, TV!

A long line of “kid” shows have addressed themselves primarily to children. Beginning in the early fifties and with the growing access to in-home TV, popular kid shows featured “real” children. A fore-runner of the current rash of “Reality TV” shows, these shows would typically have a re-occurring group of kids chosen to represent real kids.

From Art Linkletter‘s kids who say the funniest (darnest? things“, to Mr. Rogers’ serene neighborhood; to learning with Big Bird & Barney; to having fun with Bill Cosby’s’ hey, hey, hey.

The kids on these shows were chosen for the talent and were given clever lines to deliver. Thus, our idealized children were bright, happy, knowing, loving and virtuous. As audiences grew up, new real families appeared: Ed McMurray in Father knows Best; Leave it to Beaver; The Donna Reed Show ; Ozzie & Harriet Nelson with sons, David and Ricky.

Ozzie Nelson took his show to the logical next step.

They acted like themselves would if they could.

(Ricky Nelson…good looking; rock star; women, both young and not so young, love him. This is the real Ricky, not the TV one. Marries the beautiful daughter of a foot-ball legend. Had three lovely children.)

“Heck, in my neighborhood, I was Ricky Nelson.”

But what about the real reality.

If the children you know are bright, happy, knowing, loving and virtuous, you bear witness to a miracle that should be treated as such. If you don’t know many kids that exhibit most of these positive traits, shouldn’t you wonder why.

A disconnect occurs when we try to reconcile this “model” child with all the real children that we know. A source of the disconnect is how few of our children are “appropriately” nurtured. While the details of “appropriately” would undoubtedly be debated, I believe a consensus exists for the broad elements of such nurturing.

The elements would include: safety, consistency, respect, affection, positive reinforcement, caring inter-action, play, talking, reading and holding. The providers of this nurturing can
be anyone who can “genuinely” offer such nurturing. The sad and troubling reality is that there are vastly fewer providers of “genuine” nurturing then there are children to be nurtured.

Little mention will be made of the obvious outcomes resulting so often from the absence of nurturing parenting. Generations of single moms (both young and those not so young), school drop-outs, bullies, and, in too many instances, non-feeling, loners that do monstrous deeds.

Far too few in our society ever develop an understanding of their own self -worth and therefore are unable to imbue others with it. Lacking a sense of something (anything) having value, it easily is concluded that all things (including lives) are value-less. And value-less things need no consideration, or compassion or other human emotion.

My focus, instead is on this question: “if parenting (or it’s absence) is so powerful in determining who we become, why do we leave it to chance.?”

One would expect that we would forget about everything else and concentrate our full attention on improving the chances (e.g. “increasing the odds”) that we end up with individuals who understand and respect the notion that all of our individual actions, good/and bad ones, come with some consequence attached like a shadow.

And, alas, that the individual gives a damn about that consequence.

Just Be Still and Quiet

There are times when it is good to stop moving, acting, thinking and just be still and quiet...soon your path will be revealed.

Neil Young - Rockin' In The Free World

MY Anthem Neil Young (move over U2, Bruce, Rolling Stones etc) is, by a sizable margin, my choice FOR THE VOICE OF ROCK n ROLL 1970 - 2011.

Constantly staying true to himself, constantly probing for new ways to express the foundational values of rock n roll, constantly confronting the posers, constantly not resting, constantly reaching for that which is time-less, constantly fear-less and constantly more than a singer/songwriter...a fully dimensional human being...

a son of a Father who sang everyday in the raw landscape of the plains of Ontario...the brother of the family that he remains connected; a sister provides back-up vocals on a large number of his songs...a husband and best friend to wives, who also provide back-up vocals...a Father to his children...always hands-on as a stay at home Dad...

a sponsor of his own Charity working to bring joy to children, like his own, who are learning challenged...a custodian of redwood cover land in northern California...a courageous man who will not be deterred by heart-break or loss. A unsought after title, a life worth emulating. May he continue to harvest.

gardenbookie (See profile | I'm a fan of gardenbookie)

Now we are engaged in a great (civil) war

, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure.

We are met on a great battle-field of that war. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here

dedicated to the great task remaining before us ?

that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion ?that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ?that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom ?and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. (in part - the Gettysburg Address)

It's time for less talk, more action. Nay.

It's past time. It's past time for the "united people" of the "united states" to "unite".

No partisanship. No right/left wing. No religious bias. No racial lines. No gender lines. Who wants to start?

TO : A person of color RE : Beware a “pale” face

Essay #4 TO : A person of color RE : Beware a “pale” face**

All “white” people look the same

. They come to teach, but not to learn; and to save but not to be saved.

In 1620, those with pale faces (mostly from western Europe and of those mostly from England and France) came to America and stayed. Their tenacity, as well as their sense of entitlement, can be seen in the presidential match-up of 2004, when both of the major party nominees John Kerry and George Bush the 2nd could trace direct lineage to these 1620 settlers.

The small matter that they were not the first persons to live on this land would be over looked because it was their “destiny”.

A person of color gets no solace from the fact that pale faces can just as easily turn against other pale faces. Religious differences would be sufficient reason to slaughter one another. It would seem that all pale faces had been born into this world with this “sickness” already in them. The “sickness” being that of believing some persons are better than others. Of course, when looking for a scapegoat it is easier to point at some other “group” rather than the behavior of persons within the group. For instance, has not the same “sickness” shown up within persons of color. A closer look would reveal hideous treatment among and within groups of color. From Asia, across the Middle East, to Central America, South America…one can observe the same “sickness”.

Perhaps the “sickness” arises where ever persons are not treated as individuals.

I am a first generation paleface. My father arrived in America in the mid-twenties when he was five. He arrived with two older brothers (ages 9 and 7) and a very sick mother. My Dad’s mom would die shortly after their arrival to the north beach area of San Francisco.

My Dad’s family was in the Supper Club business. My paternal Grandfather, Pierre. P. Servelle was a chef at the Fairmount Hotel in the City, and my Paternal Grandmother ruled over a booming Super Club, 25 miles south of the City (near the city of San Mateo). This was during the period of the roaring 20s; of “speak-easies”, prohibition, Al Capone, boot-leg booze, foot-loose and fancy free.

With memories of WW I shadowing them, they were determined to ride this fast-moving train to the promise land.

Being the youngest, my Dad was assigned duties that nobody else wanted to do but had to be done. I don’t believe he was an under age hit man…but I never really asked him…and he never mentioned it either. Did my Dad get rich? Some prospered after the Crash of Oct. 1929. I will say, my inheritance consisted of great storied. Oh, and the nurturing of two loving parents. But that is another story. ** “Stupid White Men” by Michael Moore But let’s not worry about Mother Earth- she’s lasted through much worse. Let the tree-huggers lose their sleep over it- we’re too damn busy trying to make money! Ah, money. The sweet stench of success. A couple years ago I was talking to a guy in a bar who happened to be a stockbroker. He asked me about my “investments.” I told him I didn’t have any, that I don’t own a single share of stock. He was stunned. “You mean you don’t have a portfolio where you keep your money?” ********************************************************* “Crash this train” by Joshua James I hope you find what you are looking for… It ain’t hard to see this country ain’t free… So God if you can hear me, Crash this Train ********************************************************* “Living in America” by Neil Diamond Free…Only want to be Free Only want to come to America

a 1,000 mi road trip spread over the past 72 hours

9pm 10/29/10

a 1,000 mi road trip spread over the past 72 hours

For reasons not entirely clear, it became clear to me that I had to be in SF for Wednesday’s opening game of this year’s World Series between the SF Giants and the team from Texas.

Now, it is true that the Giants have not WON a world series since coming from NY in 1958. As a 15 year old, at the time, I saw them play in the old Seal Stadium downtown on 16th and Bryant across from the old Hamm’s brewery. And then I ended up living in SF while attending SF State. During that time I saw many Giants gamed in Candlestick Park and happened to be there when Willie McCovey had his 1st major league at bat. A left-handed batter he was large but his bat looked twice the size of what others were using. His swing was like a golf swing. He hit the ball so far over the right field fence it disappeared out of sight.

But as much as I liked the City by the Bay, I had to move on.

By the ‘70s I no longer paid any attention. Even though they made it into the series four times over the years I never really gave them much thought. I saw them on TV this year and I got caught up in the fever. I have never even seen their new stadium with McCovey’s cove. I definitely got hooked as they worked themselves up through the play off.

And the City itself was calling me, too. I have no money but I had to go SF. My friend Don agreed to ride shot gun; a third friend has a home near the and although he wasn’t going to be in town, he said we could stay there. So Tuesday morning we headed north; 500 mi and 12 hours later we’re there. The whole town was in a frenzy. Wednesday was game one.

We couldn’t afford tickets ($400 to stand; $1,800 to have a seat.) But what a scene! We caught the Muni in the 4th and went home to watch the last innings. Unbelievable. But something even stronger was going on. The City seduced me with memories.

I let it take me back; all the way make to the best single year of my entire life. And I have had a life time of blessing: present at the births of all four of my children; loving and supportive parents; siblings; relatives, wonderful friends and an adventured filled life.

That best year ever began in the spring of ’64 and was a story tale through the spring of ’65. The beginning and end points are easy: Spring of ’64 I turned 21 and went all over the City all night. Spring of ’65 I earned by BA from SF State. But it was the time in between that was unbelievably magical. I waited 21 years to fine my life’s love and in the fall of ’64 it happened…love at it’s blooming and all consuming played out in what I believe to be the most romantic city of all. The City of Seven Hills.

Exquisite in its intimacy and subtle in its ambiance. And fun and playfulness: Cable Cars and endless variety of places to explore; and little eaters on every corner and Sour Dough bread; and the fog rolling in to draw you together in a way that you become one.

4 ME EVERY DAY IS FATHER'S DAY

4 ME EVERY DAY IS FATHER'S DAY

some people want children and cant have them, and some that can dont want them." i have spoken these words before don't know where, Angela. Think i added, We (my ex & me), were too old (ex 37; me 51) to be getting pregnant (still 8 mo. BEFORE our son was born) and yet, who were we to argue since "we prayed to be blessed with children and gave our word to GOD that we would be ever grateful and with HIS blessing we would care for & look out for them as HE did for us. Both me & my ex have & will continue forever to keep our promise to GOD, to Gavin & to Kelly. ON this Father's Day, i gladly bend down, lower my head & praise GOD for these beautiful children that i had been entrusted with.