How Evolution Screwed Us

HOW EVOLUTION HAS SCREWED US

For those of you isolated from the main stream, Tim Tebow, last week was extraordinary. He took a team of no great distinction and made it win, and with heroic style. The game was exciting and worth the time spent watching it. Swell. It is important to know that he is an extremely devout young man who does marvelous works of charity. Swell.

But, the city went somewhat bonkers about the event. Of course, not all people, but a significant number cheered, carried on and remained in the stadium well after the game ended. And, you can bet the vast bulk of Denverites eagerly looked forward to this morning’s paper to read all the details about the victory. After six futile years, winning a playoff game is a triumph that has already become part of Broncos lore. Decades from now, old men will boast to their grandchildren that they had seen the pass that won the game. (I cribbed this from Shakespeare, but it surely is apt.)

Since writing the above, the Broncos collapsed, with Tebow showing little distinction. I mean, it was a BIG loss with nothing to redeem it. What have the fan(atics) done? Why, they persist in extolling the Broncos and the future success of Tebow. I mean, you really have to be a believer to accuse the coach and Elway of the loss.

All this over a game that is fun, exciting, and violent just this side of brutality? No, not at all, no way, impossible. A truth about us is that we are an extremely territorial animal that bonds with our group all of whom extol our common virtues. Denver is better than Pittsburgh not only in football; winning is only the marker that exemplifies our superiority. Why are we so? Evolution.

In the good old caveman/woman days, well before football, banding together to own a particular hunting ground or a particular piece of land meant personal survival. Of course, there were independent souls who preferred isolation but few of them survived. Alone, they became the prey of other humans and animals. They could not hunt as successfully nor could they farm well; human existence depended on intense bonding with the group to ensure that all would protect one and one would protect all. Outliers did not reproduce because they died. Thus, we became herd animals defending our turf against all comers.

My late wife, at a Broncos game for the fun of provocation began to cheer for the NY Giants. Pretty quickly, Broncos fans began to insult her and there appeared a sense of potential violence; I had to shut her down lest I get beaten up for her idiocy. What crime? She had evoked the ancient rule that the group which, attacked, had to respond in kind because she threatened its survival. Well, not really, but evolution has not caught up with civilized reality.

During the Civil war, when everyone knew the South had not a chance they boasted that one southerner could lick five Yankees. What fun for them, but what blindness it exemplified and they could hardly believe they had lost. So, they established the KKK, a kind of guerrilla army to continue to fight for their values. There are still Southerners who espouse the old slogan: “Save your Confederate money boys, the South will rise again.”

Around the world, territoriality rules the day. Many Muslims recall fondly hundreds of years ago when their armies swept away all opposition and anticipate the day when the whole world will bow to their faith. Until recently, Europe had a series of wars over who owned which parcel of land. Only now, with the European Union is there peace but you can bet that many long for the good old days of total sovereignty. In spite of the union, Great Britain remains somewhat aloof in maintaining its own currency. Consider that when Communist Russia, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, failed, those so called republics reverted to their original status of individual countries, reestablishing their territory. Perhaps Europe faces the same fate.

I'm not sure, but I think the United States is alone in successfully unifying disparate states. When the Articles of Confederation failed, the genius of our forefathers created the Constitution; all the states were part of the whole and the issue was decided when the South wanted to split and started a bloody war. That war bound us all together though reminiscences of the old days still flutter with arguments about states’ rights.

But, no more wars between us, never, and that is the hope for humanity. If we can give up territoriality (except for football fluff), we have a chance.

Whether summer or winter snow

Our hero is now Tim Tebow.

He makes us feel proud

We shout it out loud

But, remember its only for show.

When to fight.

When to fight.

If it means physical battle, fight only in desperate circumstances. To get a black eye or a bloody nose over differences of opinion or a word seems absurd so, run like hell even when you think you can win. I'll discuss the issue in terms of refusing to accept the indignities of life that are thrust upon us by the variety of functionaries we encounter.

Consider this. I was waiting to be approached by a sales person in a local Sears. I stood examining stoves while perhaps 10 feet away four employees were engaged in some sort of discussion. Perhaps they were deciding foreign policy, or the president's plans for health care, but they surely were indifferent to me, insignificant me. In the good old days, I would hate them, fume in silence and passively stand in service of their greater need to solve the problems of the world, but some years ago, I decided against. I walked up to the group and said in authoritative tones, “Have any of you seen a sales person on the floor?” Of course, they wore Sears’s shirts and wore nametags; my sarcastic question was designed to shock them and it did. They stared at me, then one of them stammered, “How can I, how can I help you, sir?” All went well after that.

Or the time I told a waiter what food I wanted. His attention was immediately distracted by another waiter who wanted to know if he had heard the score of a football game. After a brief discussion, my waiter turned to me and said, “Ready to order, sir?” I asked him if his memory problem interfered with the rest of his life. Of course, I smiled disarmingly to take the sting out and to demonstrate I had no hard feelings but he also suddenly remembered what I wanted.

Why do I act this way? I know that when people receive assertiveness training, some of their friends dislike their new behavior and fade away and that has been called a problem. Is it? I knew a man whose friend was often irritable with him and sometimes never contacted him (or responded to calls) for weeks. The man never challenged his friend except to tepidly mention the behavior. His friend responded about how busy he was and that ended the discussion

The man, at my suggestion, entered an assertiveness training program and finally confronted his friend who became very distressed and wanted to know why they weren't friends anymore. The friendship ended and the man understood that such a relationship was not a friendship at all and he was well rid of it. He felt some loss, but he also felt proud of himself.

Perhaps some of you might think the above examples are harsh but if so I disagree. People's disregard (often rudeness) can exist only because we are willing to put up with it. If never challenged they continue their indifference to you and me. Sometimes, albeit it, rarely, the friends truly apologize and work on changing their behavior. Don’t hold your breath.

Lest you think that I am an unregenerate curmudgeon, let me assure you that I always start out with charm. Long ago, “How to Win Friends and Influence People” taught me to find something to praise about people and it gives me great pleasure to do so . . . and I am quite sincere about it. While I read about it far in the past it was only about ten years ago that I began to challenge rudeness and knew it was best to lead with friendship.

Of course, there are occasions when nothing will work. Government officials are tough. Police doing their job are tough unless you can figure a way to get past their professionalism. My cousin was stopped for speeding. The officer said, “Do you know you were ten miles above the limit?” My cousin smiled and said “Yes. I thought in this deserted part of town it might not get me stopped. Obviously I was wrong.” The officer laughed and said he was the first person whoever admitted speeding and accepted the responsibility, and sent my cousin on his way. I look forward to getting stopped so I can use my cousin's tactic.

I almost forgot about when to fight. When you or loved ones, friends, passers bye are in physical danger. But, run if you can.

Winter Solstice.

WINTER SOLSTICE – Bah! Humbug!

In a message to some readers, I stated that the Christmas season made me somewhat gloomy. OK, gloomy is a bit strong, but as a card-carrying cynic, I do not buy the Christmas message. Not a Christian, I can only glean my understanding from carols, messages, a multitude of newspaper articles and most people who babble (yes, I mean that word) without thinking at all about what it is they celebrate. While the message is “peace,” simple observation suggests otherwise.

I don’t remember how old I was when I realized that I was not a member of the club. A little girl reminded me of that when she came home one day and said she wanted to be “regular,” no longer Jewish. You get the picture; it’s the same reaction most kids get when they realize they are not full-fledged, rootin tootin members of the dominant society. No doubt, Christian kids have the same reaction if born into a Hindu society or a Muslim society. But, not being a member of the club meant that Santa would not come down my chimney. (I didn’t have a chimney, but you get the idea.) Of course, I received Chanukah presents, i.e. underwear and socks with a few handkerchiefs thrown in and once, I think, even a piece of Chanukah gelt. That’s gold foil wrapped a piece of chocolate impersonating money. My sister, four years older than me violated the family custom of dull gifts by buying me books.

Once I figured out things, I did not mind my non-eligibility for the club. Well, of course, I was but I would have to give up everything important in my life; my parents would have tossed me out on my head for such a transformation. Besides, what did I have to say to non-Jews? Did they know about gefilte fish or schmaltz herring or bialies or whitefish and I didn’t know they ate cream cheese until I became somewhat older.

But, the above is mere persiflage (fancy word to justify my expensive education) and now forward to more serious stuff. I never thought much about Christmas (or Chanukah, for that matter) until during the season I listened to a religious ceremony, which concluded in “peace on earth and good will to men.” In those days, women’s personhood was a nice figment of a few really radical ladies. And, then I heard another ceremony, which concluded, “peace on earth to men of good will.”

They were different in a significant way even though both emanated from Christian speakers. Whassup? I wondered which way God wanted it.

So, I looked into Christmas and discovered that scholars think that Jesus was born I think sometime in April, not December 25. That date was originally chosen for the Zoroastrian god Mithra; it was asserted that was when he was born, clearly precedent to Jesus. The Druids provided the Yule log and Christmas tree until Christian expansionists co-opted such add-ons to their story. Roman soldiers liked Mithra and celebrated the Saturnalia. The Greeks had their own holiday, Brumialia. Including Chanukah, they all fell on the winter solstice.

Winter is a gloomy time during which days become shorter. That surely distressed our ancients who noticed that at a certain time the days became longer; and that awareness provided a vast sense of relief, relief so great that the occasion had to be marked down. People, growing gloomy in the lengthy dark could look forward to what the Romans called the “unconquered sun.” Don’t give up hope, the light will return. Even now, many people suffer from winter slump, sometimes so distressing they need treatment and surprise, the treatment consists of sitting in front of a bank of very bright lights. Like the ancients, the shortening days get me feeling uncomfortable, but I know December 21 is on the way and I keep myself relaxed with that knowledge. Hell, we are ancient man and woman.

So, we really celebrate the lengthening of days but gussy it up with religious fol-de-rol and cheering ourselves up with gifting. Longing for peace became attached to the celebration and that’s why, like a card-carrying cynic I’m sort of gloomy. Even though some red-hot thinkers, i.e. Pinker, say that violence around the world is dissipating and offers some evidence to make his point, I don’t buy it. We evolved in an environment which required fight or flight, either we do battle or run like hell. We haven’t changed, we are still the same animal and evolution moves too damned slowly to make a difference.

Still, with the love of a good woman I don’t retain the gloom for too long.

ARE YOU WORTH ANYTHING?

ARE YOU WORTH ANYTHING?

There are two possible answers: Yes or no. And, whatever your answer there is the ugly, “How do you know?” Keep in mind that a great deal seems to depend on your answer. I suppose the bottom line determines whether or not you will go to heaven or the other place.

Kids are desperate to know their value because they have an inborn fear of being deserted by their parents. If they get the message that they are worthless that's the end, or at least until they can figure out a way to become worthwhile again. While at the bottom is survival, the less stringent penalties for worthlessness are punishments and loss of the goodies of life. I remember accidentally hearing my father say, “That damned kid.” Well, I was the only kid around and I was stabbed by his cruel rejection of me. I returned a pencil he had given me and made the usually whiny noises produced by distressed kids and dogs. My parents were horrified but clarified by explaining he had meant a young man at work. Still, it took a while for the would to heal.

Obviously, if you are worth something you are at the top of your world. Friends want you on their teams, teachers smile when you walk into the classroom and when you get older, girls or boys (depending on your proclivities) hover around. A worthwhile person, kid or adult is a joy to be and a joy to have around.

If you conclude the opposite, that you are worth little or nothing, well, you've all been there. There is nothing but gloom in your life, you have failed the basic test of being and there is no pleasure. It often becomes a rather desperate situation and sometimes leads to substance abuse, promiscuity, passivity in relationships and very often failure. Everybody in has at one time or another concluded that he/she is worthless or worth little in the grand scheme of things. Self-esteem is low and verbal self-abuse abounds.

Religion often is based on threats of hell or hopes of paradise so shape up, act right and you'll earn your wings. Some argue that God don't create no junk, but the fear is that God don't want no junk in heaven; only Satan is for the worthless sorts because they deserve punishment.

Well, you probably have figured out that the above is all humbug, that striving for self-worth is a foolish task that slips and slides depending on mood and circumstance. If you get an A and are thus worthwhile, what are you worth if you get an F? And, how can you be worthwhile? So much of it depends on the people around you. All of them have idiosyncratic ideas about such things so how can you get any basis for knowing about your worth. You get an F. One teacher tells you how disappointed he is. The other tells you he knows how hard you tried. Both want you to do better but how do you react?

If the chase for worth is like searching for fools gold, what is left? The real gold is in shifting one's focus. Instead of straining for fools gold, work on self-acceptance. Quote Albert Ellis: “I am a fucked up fallible human being who will screw things up royally. That is unavoidable, that is human nature. Instead of rating myself I'll see if I can figure out how to do better. If I can, swell. If not, maybe I should change my goal.”

There is a wonderful outcome to this: You stop punishing yourself or others and do your best to improve things. And, to accept the reality, “That’s life.”

Self worth is quite a mirage

To give it up takes a bit of courage.

But if you remember to say

I don't need to be okay

Self acceptance is a tasty frommage.

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

AUGUST 1, 2011

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

Are they strange bed fellows or antagonists? Shall humanists accommodate to religious culture as Sagan suggested or shall they challenge the core tenets of religious belief. This is an argument currently playing out in humanist circles, with advocates of both positions maneuvering for primacy.

The Jewish and Christian bibles (henceforth I will speak of the bible), not so long ago spoke with the conviction of truth. Wise men explained the bible's meanings to their flocks (that's how sermons started) because the people could not be trusted to get their understandings right. The bible came to us from god.

In the late 1800s German scholars began to examine the bible and discovered that what had been thought to be a seamless exposition was written by four different people or groups (possibly one a woman) and odd peculiarities cropped up. They applied literary techniques and wondered why there are two genesis stories and began to understand that at least in part different oral traditions had to have their say.

But, well before those events, scientists began to nibble away at biblical descriptions of reality. Bruno was burned alive because he spoke about the possibility of alternate universes ( a current red-hot topic). Galileo was condemned because he pushed the notion that the earth rotated about the sun. There are still people who believe in Noah's ark and there are those who believe that the earth and its apparent history came into being about six thousand years ago. When doctors wanted to do autopsies, religious leaders would not permit such because we are created in god's image and blah, blah, blah. Surgery became possible because wounded soldiers had to be treated.

Sometime in our history, people lost faith in biblical veracity because wise men could see that reality did not fit the bible. At first religionists loved geology because sea-creature fossils were found everywhere but as geologists further investigated and understood the disappearance of  the ancient seas religionists could not accept the disproof of their beliefs. There are still places in this country where the flood is taught as the truth.

Still, not accommodating to religion, i.e., attacking it needs consider the value it has to huge numbers of people. It provides solace in the face of disaster, it seems to provide purpose in life and is a comfort to those whose lives seem empty. Why not let it alone, accommodate to its idiosyncrasies and only challenge those attitudes which might cause problems. Can you think of any? There is hostility to abortion which absurdly require that a fetus is really a tiny child. There is creationism and its pseudo-sophisticated child, intelligent design. There is the refusal to accept stem cell research; who cares if people have to suffer and die in order to preserve the rights of babies in the womb?

And, the best for last: how did religion become the progenitor of morality? They swirl around the conflict between discovered and received wisdom. Science struggles to discover new information and weave it into better understandings of reality. Of course, it sometimes takes wrong paths but science has self-correction built in. Science is public so that anyone can challenge its findings. Remember the flap about cold fusion? Remember Velikovski?

In contrast, received wisdom comes from God. That being hands it to us in the bible and religious leaders cannot be wrong in their understanding of god's will. “God wants you to . . .”, is a favorite line and brooks no dispute. “Do not eat non-kosher food,” “An abortion will send you to hell.” All such commands are presented true and faithful renditions of god's desires, --- or so they say.

Accomodationists argue that there is no way to get people to think differently about their beliefs. There is the notion that the harder the push, the more resistance so that pointing out the problems will only create enemies. Yet, think of the great transformations in our country. There was anti-slavery sentiment from the git-go; decent minded people persisted in advancing their ideas until the South started a war to preserve what they called their “peculiar institution.” And finally, finally African-Americans are slowly receiving parity. Or consider in my life time (and of many of the people reading this) LGBT people have become somewhat acceptable and can even marry, what a shock to religionists who see life through received wisdom rather than looking at reality. It is important to speak up when religion intrudes as it must because God has told them so.

I never heard of a religion

That could fly as straight as a pigeon

Its knowledge is received

But, don't be deceived.

Of truth they have hardly a smidgen.

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

SCIENCE AND RELIGION

Are they strange bed fellows or antagonists? Shall humanists accommodate to religious culture as Sagan suggested or shall they challenge the core tenets of religious belief. This is an argument currently playing out in humanist circles, with advocates of both positions maneuvering for primacy.

The Jewish and Christian bibles (henceforth I will speak of the bible), not so long ago spoke with the conviction of truth. Wise men explained the bible's meanings to their flocks (that's how sermons started) because the people could not be trusted to get their understandings right. The bible came to us from god.

In the late 1800s German scholars began to examine the bible and discovered that what had been thought to be a seamless exposition was written by four different people or groups (possibly one a woman) and odd peculiarities cropped up. They applied literary techniques and wondered why there are two genesis stories and began to understand that at least in part different oral traditions had to have their say.

But, well before those events, scientists began to nibble away at biblical descriptions of reality. Bruno was burned alive because he spoke about the possibility of alternate universes ( a current red-hot topic). Galileo was condemned because he pushed the notion that the earth rotated about the sun. There are still people who believe in Noah's ark and there are those who believe that the earth and its apparent history came into being about six thousand years ago. When doctors wanted to do autopsies, religious leaders would not permit such because we are created in god's image and blah, blah, blah. Surgery became possible because wounded soldiers had to be treated.

Sometime in our history, people lost faith in biblical veracity because wise men could see that reality did not fit the bible. At first religionists loved geology because sea-creature fossils were found everywhere but as geologists further investigated and understood the disappearance of  the ancient seas religionists could not accept the disproof of their beliefs. There are still places in this country where the flood is taught as the truth.

Still, not accommodating to religion, i.e., attacking it needs consider the value it has to huge numbers of people. It provides solace in the face of disaster, it seems to provide purpose in life and is a comfort to those whose lives seem empty. Why not let it alone, accommodate to its idiosyncrasies and only challenge those attitudes which might cause problems. Can you think of any? There is hostility to abortion which absurdly require that a fetus is really a tiny child. There is creationism and its pseudo-sophisticated child, intelligent design. There is the refusal to accept stem cell research; who cares if people have to suffer and die in order to preserve the rights of babies in the womb?

And, the best for last: how did religion become the progenitor of morality? They swirl around the conflict between discovered and received wisdom. Science struggles to discover new information and weave it into better understandings of reality. Of course, it sometimes takes wrong paths but science has self-correction built in. Science is public so that anyone can challenge its findings. Remember the flap about cold fusion? Remember Velikovski?

In contrast, received wisdom comes from God. That being hands it to us in the bible and religious leaders cannot be wrong in their understanding of god's will. “God wants you to . . .”, is a favorite line and brooks no dispute. “Do not eat non-kosher food,” “An abortion will send you to hell.” All such commands are presented true and faithful renditions of god's desires, --- or so they say.

Accomodationists argue that there is no way to get people to think differently about their beliefs. There is the notion that the harder the push, the more resistance so that pointing out the problems will only create enemies. Yet, think of the great transformations in our country. There was anti-slavery sentiment from the git-go; decent minded people persisted in advancing their ideas until the South started a war to preserve what they called their “peculiar institution.” And finally, finally African-Americans are slowly receiving parity. Or consider in my life time (and of many of the people reading this) LGBT people have become somewhat acceptable and can even marry, what a shock to religionists who see life through received wisdom rather than looking at reality. It is important to speak up when religion intrudes as it must because God has told them so.

I never heard of a religion

That could fly as straight as a pigeon

Its knowledge is received

But, don't be deceived.

Of truth they have hardly a smidgen.

NAPS

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy

NAPS

11-28-11

Many years ago, when I was a neophyte, green, untested and not at all wise I wondered why people took naps. My father was a perpetual motion man keeping us in cornflakes with two jobs and running out at night to lodge meetings and whatever. Naps were not part of his life. My mother, contrary-wise was a pretty lazy person. She was insufficiently interested in preparing anything to eat more than the most rudimentary meals with pan fried meats and mushy string beans; and, with casual house cleaning, that was it. Her time was spent chatting with friends, of which she had many and lying in bed, smoking and reading. In those days you could buy a single cigarette for 2 cents and I was the courier. What did I know, I thought all mommas were like that.

Across the street, my aunt Rose was much more busy cooking, but candy and honey cake were specialties which friendly persuasion might elicit from her. But, she was a teacher and had a lot to say about how terrible the Department of Ed. Always made the wrong decisions. No naps for her. She impressed me, but not so much that I thought her a model for momma-hood.

As I grew older, I wondered how people could spend their time doing nothing. I thought napping is doing nothing; you lie there, eyes closed and sleep. After a while you wake up sometimes a bit refreshed but pretty much unchanged. And the universe was out there (universes if you accept the multiverse formulation) for you to engage in whatever way suited your fancy. Aside from school, always a detestable place, I built model airplanes, smoked a pipe, went to movies, sometimes twice a day and generally preferred not to waste my time. Because the theaters showed double headers, going twice a day was sort of a Herculean task. I mean, gee, four movies left the mind a blur. My mother, busy chatting with friends or lying about smoking and reading never noticed how I spent my time. Remember, I had been a sickly child so if I were well she didn't have to pay much attention. At least, that's my adult assessment.

As a young man, I refused to nap even though I might be tired. Perhaps, though, I wasn't tired enough. I rapidly learned in the army that given a 5 minute break, that time spent dozing would make a difference in later-in-the-day military pursuits. Aside from that, napping or dozing was simply not part of my life scheme.

It's not that I never received contrary advice from newspaper articles about living the good life and surely friends and relatives, except friend wife, would tell me how miserable I looked and urged naps upon me. I resisted all such; somehow my toughness was at stake and I would be tough. Little did I know that it was all pert of the rejection of momma and the identification with poppa and aunt Rose.

Even now, when I have admitted that naps are a good idea, I resist. Friend wife napped all the time I(Is there something to this bit about marrying your mother?). There are times when watching TV or reading, when my eyes start to close that I will consider the desirability of a nap. But, I always tell myself to wait until the next commercial or to finish the chapter. It's a clever plan because there is always more story when the ad is finished and always another chapter. So, I stay away from naps as much as I can knowing with certainty that I would feel more alert if I sleep. Yet, absurd as it is, I grudgingly admit that napping is nice. Off with the shoes, kick the cat out of the bedroom, snuggle under the bed clothes and disappear. Wonderful and I plan to nap this afternoon, but like a new year's resolution my plan will go poof because the universe is always there, beckoning, enticing, luring me to engage with it. When I get too draggy, I drink caffeinated coffee. Take that, mom. I'm tough!

Whenever I start to feel dozy

And my eyes begin to get closey.

Thoughts of naps then emerge

But, I fight off the urge

Though alas, I hardly feel rosy