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Now let me preface this by saying I am not proposing any form of socialism as a solution. With all its flaws, the free market/capitalist system is, to paraphrase another comparison, the worst system of economics except for all the rest.
But with that said, here’s a bit of a quandary.
According to OXFAM.org, the 10 wealthiest people in the world, all men, increased their net worth from $700 billion pre-pandemic to $1.5 trillion in 2022.
To put those numbers into a meaningful perspective. If these gentlemen liquidated their assets into cash intending to spend it all, it might look like this. To do this, we must agree this is just a thought experiment and ignore that doing such a thing may not be as easy as it sounds.
Let’s say they decide to spend 100 million dollars per day. Please check my math on this but,
$1,500,000,000,000 divided by $100,000,000 equals 15000 days or 41 years.
Forty-one years at 100 million dollars a day to spend the 1.5 trillion dollars in net worth.
When you consider the number of humans living below the poverty level, or worse, the idea the 10 men control enough money that it would take decades at 100 million dollars a day to spend it all should give you pause.
Think about that next time you hear how the country is in debt. We cannot afford to house the homeless, solve the drug problem, or eliminate any other issues facing us today.
While I don’t think socialism is the answer, there should be some limit to the amount of wealth concentrated in the bank accounts of such few people.
There should be some way to apply a limit to the percentage of wealth concentrated within such a small percentage of the population.
In Newport, Rhode Island, there are testimonies to avarice and greed used to fund monstrous houses. The “Newport Mansions” were built at enormous cost, primarily from the profits from 1890 railroad magnates and other successful businessmen. Businesses that exploited the common laborers that made the businesses possible.
For example, one of these homes cost $12 million to build at the time. This is equal to $300 million in today’s dollars. And these were summer residences, some never used more than a week or two by the families who built them.
While one might argue that the carpenters, masons, electricians, plumbers, cooks, house staff, and caretakers benefitted from the construction, does that justify such an enormous expense that served no other purpose but as a symbol of extraordinary wealth?
Trickle-down economics sound plausible and beneficial, but the reality is entirely different.
Perhaps the structure of the tax laws needs to reflect a shared percentage of one’s wealth. Then everyone would pay the same portion of their earnings and assets. It is fundamentally unfair for someone with significant financial assets to take advantage of tax laws intended to offer incentives to people taking risks and starting businesses and turning them into vehicles to forego paying their fair share.
I don’t have the answer to the issue. But that doesn’t mean it is not appropriate to raise it for discussion. I just can’t help intuitively believing that something is fundamentally unfair in a world where it would take ten men forty-one years to spend all their wealth at one hundred million dollars a day.
We have only ourselves to blame for letting our political system be dominated by those who can afford to run for office or are willing to be paid to do so by those with a vested interest in maintaining the status quo.
And if you believe flawed individuals hold positions of power, that is on you. To quote Mahatma Gandhi,
“If there is an idiot in power, it is because those who elected him are well represented.”
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
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There are books and words some demand we hide from those who are the most receptive to learn understanding, compassion, and reject hate. Not because these books are demonstrably wrong or prejudicial but because they clash with many Americans’ concept of the past and the reality in the country today. So history repeats itself because we allow the books about it to be burned and banned out of ignorance.
What’s this? You haven’t heard of this issue in, wait for it, Florida? The media, of course, got some facts wrong, but they got the gist of the story.
We've braved the belly of the beast. We've learned that quiet isn't always peace, And the norms and notions of what "just is" Isn't always justice.
And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it. Somehow, we do it. Somehow, we've weathered and witnessed A nation that isn't broken, but simply unfinished. Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb”
A parent complained about a specific poem, The Hill We Climb, by Amanda Gorman. The poem read at the inauguration of President Joe Biden. The reason on the complaint form was (and I quote verbatim.)
“Is not educational and have indirectly hate messages,”
But don’t take my word for it. I’ve included an image of the actual complaint in this piece. The parent, Daily Salinas, and others also complained about several other books.
Ms. Salinas felt the need to file a complaint because the poem contained material that had no educational value and would indoctrinate those who read it to a certain political philosophy. She also claimed the poem was written by Oprah Winfrey—another understandable, if not entirely unexpected mistake since, well, you know those people all look alike—although it was actually written by Harvard graduate Amanda Gorman, (who knew such people went to Harvard,)
Words like this offended her,
“We close the divide because we know, to put our future first, we must first put our differences aside. We lay down our arms so we can reach out our arms to one another. We seek harm to none and harmony for all. Let the globe, if nothing else, say this is true: That even as we grieved, we grew; that even as we hurt, we hoped; that even as we tired, we tried; that we’ll forever be tied together, victorious, not because we will never again know defeat but because we will never again sow division. Scripture tells us to envision that everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid. If we’re to live up to our own time then victory won’t lie in the blade but in all the bridges we’ve made. That is the promise to glade, the hill we climb if only we dare it, because being American is more than a pride we inherit —…”
Amanda Gorman “The Hill We Climb”
Well, I can certainly understand how these words can cause confusion and indoctrinate children. This obviously requires nay indoctrinates one to accept critical race theory, and it is eminently clear the complainant, Daily Salinas, is justified in her concern.
In her complaint she refers specifically to the passage that opened this piece,
We've braved the belly of the beast. We've learned that quiet isn't always peace, And the norms and notions of what "just is" Isn't always justice.
And yet the dawn is ours before we knew it. Somehow, we do it. Somehow, we've weathered and witnessed A nation that isn't broken, but simply unfinished. Amanda Gorman, “The Hill We Climb”
Now the media claimed the books were “banned” from the school, which is not the case. Instead, they were removed from the elementary school level and sequestered at the middle school level.
One might argue that if there are kids in the school system competent enough to read that poem at the elementary school level, it reflects well on the system. Yet isolating specific material to age-appropriate access is the responsibility of the school administration.
But I suspect the reason used to justify the move is all smoke and mirrors. First, look at the complaint itself. It says the poem will “cause confusion and indoctrinate students.”
While parents should be involved in the school curriculum, it doesn’t mean they can demand that a confirmation of their own ignorance be part of theprogram.
Joe Broadmeadow
There is no mention of age appropriateness. So either the administration didn’t bother reviewing the books before they were on the shelves or they needed a convenient excuse to remove them and came up with the perfect cover story of age appropriate.
The poem and the related books discuss and illustrate the long-existing discrimination still rampant within the country. Something many would prefer to ignore as just a vestige of history and not relevant to public discourse today. And since prejudice and bigotry is a learned trait, isn’t confronting it as early as possible a better solution?
While parents should be involved in the school curriculum, it doesn’t mean they can demand that a confirmation of their own ignorance be part of the program.
If a parent were to demand all references to the Holocaust be removed from the school because they believe it never happened, would we comply? If a parent demanded the helio-centric theory of the solar system be banned because their religious tradition puts the earth at the center of the universe, would we allow it? If a parent demanded their female child only be taught practical domestic skills because they believe only a man should make all decisions within a family, would we ban all references to equality between men and women?
I think not.
There is also the fear—based primarily on willful ignorance—of “Critical Race Theory” (CRT), which has existed since the 1960s.
CRT gave rise to Critical Legal Studies (CLT), which claim that since legislation such as the Civil Rights Act of 1965, new laws have been devised to maintain the status quo within society and codify the biases against marginalized groups. Think of restrictive voting regulations and the watering down of anti-discrimination statutes.
Thus the convenient limiting of certain books and the rising trend of banning and restricting access.
I am sure there is also an element of laziness associated with this. Using an automated checkout device in a school library is much less costly or labor intensive than having a librarian monitor the material being checked out.
But this same technology could flag material based on the library id of the student and require an adult to allow the book’s checkout. Much like a 19-year-old grocery clerk asking me for my date of birth when I try to check out a bottle of wine at the supermarket.
So let’s not kid ourselves here. I’m willing to bet if a middle school student at that school tried to find the book, it would not be an easy task.
The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but covert actions of a more nefarious sort paint the lane markings.
Ms. Salinas and those who cheered the cause of banning that which they do not or will not understand got it wrong because they missed the poem’s best part.
And the real point here is the insidious and continuing spread of this vile and patently bigoted propaganda of indoctrination and “recruitment” of children.
Ms. Salinas is just another blind sheep following the Siren’s call of racism dressed up as conservative educational policy.
While educational material should always be age appropriate, it should not be compromised by those who refuse to accept there are different views of the world and different paths through life.
Given the choice, I would wager Ms. Salinas and those who agree with her would have all this material banned from all grades because it contradicts their view of history and reality. The administration is to be commended for keeping the material at an appropriate level, but I would keep a wary eye on just how supportive they really are of utilizing a wide spectrum of material to offer a well-rounded education.
Given the current trend in Florida, and the potential for one of the chief architects of these restrictive policies to become President, we must be vigilant in recognizing bigotry and hatred no matter how benign it may seem on the surface.
There are no better words to describe the situation in this country than those of Amanda Gorman herself…
A nation that isn't broken, but simply unfinished... Amanda Gorman “The Hill We Climb”
In case you’ve never read the poem, here it is. Read it, I promise you will not be assimilated into the Borg.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
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“Hi, my name is Joe and I am an addict.”
This is so hard for me to say, but it is time I admitted it and faced the problem. I am a bookaholic. I have books everywhere. When we travel, I hide them in suitcases in case my Kindle dies.
I cannot walk by a bookstore without looking.
My Kindle is close to capacity with over 3000 books.
My addiction is enabled by the proximity of my thumb to the “buy now” button on my Kindle device.
There is no such thing as a book I won’t read. I read the Book of Mormon. I’ve read Mein Kampf. I’ve read the Iliad and the Odyssey (twice), and Beowulf. The Bible, The Qur’an, Judaic Texts, Nordic Myths. Books about Zoroastrianism, Hinduism, Buddhism. I’ve read L. Frank Baum’s Wizard of Oz (all the books), The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and the Foundation Trilogy. I’ve read almost everything from Stephen Hawkins, Lawrence Krauss, Neil deGrasse Tyson, Michio Kaku, and Brian Greene, even though my understanding of cosmology is basic at best.
I’ve read books by heroes, villains, saints, sinners, old, young, intellectual, moronic, and everything in between.
I am reading all of the books I haven’t read on these idiotic banned book lists. So far, no desire for a dickectomy or, in the event I changed my mind, went ahead with it, then regretted it, an addadicktomy. Not one indication of any improvement to my fashion sense either.
And one book at a time is not enough. I am always reading more than one at the same time. Right now it is “Gideon’s Trumpet (rereading), “The Knowledge Illusion,” and “The Dutch House.” Just last night, before I realized I must admit to the problem, I read a chapter in two books and a chapter and a half in another.
Then, since one book was a nonfiction with references and footnotes, I bought two more books.
I just can’t stop myself. As a kid, in what can only be described as a prelude to this future addiction, I read the Encylopedia from “A to Anno” to “Z to Zyzomys.” Weird doesn’t even come close.
And, as if that is not enough, I reread books all the time. I’ve read Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Universe at least three times, Carlos Castenda’s books twice, and I can’t even number the times I’ve read Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels and a Modest Proposal.
I’ve lost count on those.
Even if I were to read 3 books a week—which I have been known to do and surpass—it would take me 20 years just to finish the ones I already have. But I know there’ll be links to new books by authors I’ve read before and new authors I have yet to discover.
Kindle ads are a Siren’s Song to me. NY Times Best-Seller lists are irresistible.
That 20 years will stretch on forever. Maybe, this is the key to immortality? Just keep reading.
Nirvana or how I would imagine Heaven
In considering what point in my life, and under what circumstance I might find myself, where I would no longer want extraordinary measures to keep me alive, the ability to read is a major consideration.
So, I am here to say I am a bookaholic. I am uncertain if the last book I will ever read is already on my Kindle or in my bookcase or yet to be written. But this is one addiction I choose to embrace and share with others, given the chance.
Someone once told me everything you want to know can be found in a book, the joy comes from looking for it.
This is going to be an exciting year for me. Stay tuned for two new books by me coming soon! Title and cover reveal this summer!
And if you ever wonder what to get me for a special occasion, or just because, check my Amazon book wish list. There are hundreds there as well. Don’t consider it enabling, consider it an example of your empathy and humanity.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated.Thanks.
A recent posting on a site related to the East Providence Police Department, where I served for 20 years, brought back many memories. A police clerk with the department, Alyssa Cadoret, did a magnificent job of memorializing department members—many of whom I worked with—who have since passed away.
Courtesy of Alyssa Cadoret, East Providence Police Department
This got me thinking about how our lives often take routes one would never imagine, and how I went from Cumberland, RI, to become an officer with the East Providence Police Department.
For most people, there is always a place you consider home even if you no longer live there. For me, that place is Cumberland.
Of the 66, soon to be 67, years I’ve lived on this planet, it seems strange to me that the place I’ve lived just 12 of those years is the place I still think of as home. It is the automatic answer—one I have to catch and correct myself—to the question; where are you from? I haven’t been “from” there in a very long time.
It wasn’t the place of my birth. That was Pawtucket, RI. Home from the moment of birth until I was 5.
It wasn’t the place I’d lived the longest. That was Seekonk, MA, for 18 years. Yet it is Cumberland that still seems like the foundation of what I consider home.
The Cumberland connection played the most significant part in setting the course of my life. But this life-altering effect needed a few things; a Latin class, a hernia, and a blizzard.
Upon starting the transitional year of 8th grade—the bridge between grammar school and high school—I would meet a few people who would have a lifelong impact on my life. This story concerns just one of them. And it is the serendipitous happenstance of that friendship which, when one reviews all the elements, seems so remarkable considering the lack of connectedness between some aspects.
In that Introduction to Latin class, the teacher assigned me the Herculean task of raising the dismal grade of one Ralph Ezovski. While I am uncertain if my efforts paid off or if the kindly Gregorian Chant-loving teacher, John Needham, just took pity on both of us, we both survived the class.
Ralph passed the class, and a lifelong friendship began.
The Cumberland connection played the most significant part in setting the course of my life. But this life-altering effect needed a few things; a Latin class, a hernia, and a blizzard.
Joe Broadmeadow
Here’s where it gets strange.
Upon graduation from high school, Ralph enlisted in the Army. I went to PC. These career choices didn’t pan out for reasons that remain a mystery. Me for lack of discipline in the free world of class attendance, Ralph, because of a pre-existing but undetected hernia.
The Army gave Ralph a choice: get an operation to correct the condition and recycle back to week one of basic training or simply be honorably discharged. In a preview of Ralph’s later brilliance as a police officer and union negotiator, Ralph opted to return home. The Army was all the poorer for it. For me, it altered my destiny.
In the meantime, I decided the United States Air Force, through the Rhode Island Air National Guard, seemed an excellent way to change my bad habits.
Fast forward to 1978. Ralph is now a Police Officer in East Providence, RI, and I am awaiting the beginning of the interview process for the Rhode Island State Police. All seems right with the world.
Then, the storm of the century hit Rhode Island—the Blizzard of ’78—and they canceled the interviews. Then, after the state dug out of the mountains of snow, the State Police postponed the planned academy.
Now what?
Once again, my Latin buddy connection rose to the occasion. “Apply for East Providence PD,” he said. Of course, being the typical Rhode Islander, I said, “I’m not even sure where East Providence is.”
So Ralph got the application, tracked me down to sign it, and submitted it on my behalf. And this led to a most enjoyable and exciting twenty-year career with EPPD.
Yet, if John Needham had made a different choice for Latin Buddies. If Ralph hadn’t somehow suffered a hernia before joining the Army. If the blizzard of ’78 had never happened. Who knows what might have been?
And when I watched the video showing the faces of so many members of the East Providence Police Department with whom I worked, it reminded me how fortunate I was to be a member of that highly respected department.
A Latin teacher, a hernia, and a blizzard set me on a course I could never have imagined and wouldn’t change for the world.
Serendipity hardly comes close.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
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I had the unique opportunity to see the Wizard of Oz—my all-time favorite movie—on the big screen for the first time.
The novelty of the experience rivaled the first time I got to see the movie on a color TV. Before that moment, the entire experience was in black & white. (Yes, there was a time when TV was only black & white and you had to turn the volume up to drown out the sounds of the dinosaurs roaming in the yard.)
But this moment was just as magical. Seeing the performance once again, something I used to look forward to on an annual basis—when there was no such thing as “on demand”—gave me an opportunity to remember how special the whole story is.
Now, I’ve read the L. Frank Baum books about Oz, but I harbor no delusions of being a persuasive enough writer to inspire people to undertake such an adventure. Yet, I am certain I can get some to watch the movie again and consider the lessons it teaches.
If we want to raise generations of wise, kind, courageous, and curious humans, their education can be best served by merely showing them the Wizard of Oz. Maybe not as many times as I’ve seen it—my guess is at least fifty—but more than once so the wisdom can permeate their minds.
Keep in mind children are born selfish and without empathy. From the moment of their first breath, their only concern is themselves. They have no hesitation in making their demands even if their parents are exhausted, asleep, busy, ill, or otherwise unfocused on them. It is on us to teach them patience, empathy, compassion, tolerance, and self-reliance
Enter the Wizard of Oz. One can learn about all the elements of life within this production.
If you’ve seen the movie, and give it a minimal consideration, the lessons fairly jump out at you. But here’s a list in case you missed them.
A family sometimes doesn’t have a mom and dad. Sometimes, things happen and children are raised in an entirely different environment. An aunt and uncle and three caring farmhands who all contribute are as much a family as any other.
Authorities often cater to people who hold power over others, usually through wealth or property, and try to assert control over the weak. But even a tiny dog and a determined little girl can thwart such plans.
Bad things will happen. It’s how we react to these moments, not what happened, that matters. By caring for others as much as we care for ourselves, we show true humanity. And sometimes, a bit of misdirection by a kindly traveling man and his horse, Sylvester, can show a person the error of their ways.
In the face of disaster, some politicians will be nowhere to be seen. As soon as it is resolved, these absent stuffed shirts emerge to take credit and lay blame.
And right along with the politicians will be a few lawyers demanding “…but we have to verify it legally…”
Belief that someone or something has magical power over you can make a powerful prison. Until someone comes along and drops a house on the “magical” being and shows them not to be immortal. Fear of something can be a powerful jailer only if you allow it.
Whenever one needs to do something, start at the beginning. One step at a time and never give up.
Brains are overrated unless they are tempered by compassion.
And no better lesson about the joy of having a heart than the words of the Wizard himself….
“Remember, my sentimental friend, we are judged not by how much we love, but by how much we are loved by others.”
Wizard of Oz
Courage isn’t something shown by those who are unafraid but by those who act despite their fear.
When you reach a crossroads, you can often find help from the most unexpected places and the least expected people. Therefore, one should always be open to new possibilities.
If one is willing to deprive another of their life for your own selfish purpose you will suffer the unintended consequences of your greed.
Something pleasing to the eye is not always good for us.
Never be afraid to challenge someone, even if they command armies of flying monkeys. The simplest things often defeat the mighty.
And a corollary to the last item, never keep the source of your own destruction nearby.
Just because someone appears in your life as if by magic—or on a conveyance you have never seen before—is no reason to bestow a position of authority. Not even a Wizard Deluxe.
But keep in mind, even a humbug, a fraud, a wizard of smoke and mirrors, can be a good person just not a good wizard or any other manner of leader.
And most importantly, we all possess the power to go home, even if that home no longer exists. We can return to our roots and realize that what we most desire is often no further away than our own backyard. It may not be the same for all of us, yet that is the power of the story. Home is indeed where the heart is.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
Around the time of our grandson’s first birthday, I wrote a piece about what he might call me. Here’s a link to the original.
He has gone through several iterations of my title. Since his mimicking skills grow exponentially with each moment—more on that later—some of the have been quite funny.
He’s called me Joey, Buddy, and then settled on Fata (a shortened version of grandfather we assumed.)
But now he seems to prefer my title to be the full formal, Grandfather.
“Grandfather, go outside!”
“Grandfather, go to slide!”
“Grandfather, read books!”
His calling me grandfather gives the household a bit of a regal air. Like British aristocracy or other royal lineage.
He will occasionally slip back to the Joey when he hears my wife use the name, but he seems to be good with Grandfather for now.
“Come on, grandfather.”
“Let’s go, grandfather.”
“See you tomorrow, grandfather.”
As the normal course takes place, I assume the formality will fade and be replaced with a shortened version. But for now, I shall bear the burden of the Grandfather crown with great joy.
P.S. To get back to his mimicking skills, I fear he also has acquired the Broadmeadow sense of humor. One of his favorite sayings—which no one will lay claim to uttering in his presence—is holy shit. The funny part is, he almost always uses it in the appropriate context.
The other day we took him to Petco to look at the fish (Hey, it is a free aquarium!) He spotted his beloved trash truck and we had to watch the ceremonial dumping of a huge dumpster. The driver, as he was leaving, saw Levi waving and gave a good long blast on the horn.
“Holy Shit” Levi yelled, nearly jumping out of his skin. And don’t ever make the mistake of letting him see a smile in reaction. Holy shit turns into a full chorus repeated in between giggles for as long as he cares to.
He has another one that we are all certain he learned from his mother (don’t tell her I reported this) that relates to an incident where another driver cut off my daughter. Thus, every time someone hits the brakes we get a very clear, very understandable, “what the f&^%& are you doing?”
I can’t wait for the calls from school.
Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated.Thanks.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
For many years, we didn’t even own a TV. When the one we had started smoking (pre-digital age) we got rid of it and never looked back.
We had one for my daughter to watch videos, but we’d eliminated cable TV since she watched nothing that wasn’t on VHS or, later, CDs.
But at some point, when access to the internet required at least some form of cable or fiber optic connection, we acquired a TV. Not through direct purchase but through an incentive at a furniture store where we bought new furnishings for a recent move.
We’ve since used the TV primarily to watch British detective series or BBC shows. I only wish I could get Mrs. Brown’s Boys on a more regular basis. Now that is funny stuff. If you’ve never seen the “waxing” episode I will put the link here as long as you promise to watch it and then come back here, not go down the web-search rabbit’s hole..
Now, with our soon to be duplicated grandson, we have more opportunities to watch such things as Peppa Pig and Sesame Street. Hard to believe Sesame Street is fifty-four years old, yet the magic it weaves for children is, well, magical.
The other day, there was a musical segment called Measuring Your Robot with a Ruler. A couple of things jumped out at me. First, it sounded like the title of a science fiction novel or one of those book titles that bears almost no connection to the content of the book.
But there was another aspect to the segment I found confusing. This is a digital world. Schools no longer teach cursive writing. Laptops are required for lower grades. Printers are the tools of production. Even textbooks and required readings (but none of those books) are all Kindle or Nook based.
We were watching the show on a Kindle Fire device!
Yet the Sesame Street piece chose—along with the ruler—crayons, a straw, and, inexplicably, erasers to measure the robot.
Erasers are evolution’s fossil predecessor to the delete key. When was the last time you used one? I barely recognized them, although they brought back nightmares of when teachers could hum one of these with remarkable accuracy at an offending miscreant’s head and not worry about being shot, indicted, or held liable for the costs of trauma therapy.
Chalk was also a teacher-launched cruise missile, but only for the most dire of situations. The pinpoint accuracy of most teachers led me to believe one of the required courses for a teaching degree was Special Forces level marksmanship. Some of them had the range of a nuclear warhead.
It is just strange to me that Sesame would use such an archaic object to teach children alternative methods for measuring things.
It would make about as much sense for them to teach them things like using fathoms to figure out the depth of the pool. Although they could use the phrase “Full fathom five thy father lies” in the appropriate context.
Of course, I might make the argument that teaching Shakespeare is an equally wasteful effort. I mean, if you’re not going to bother learning how to write with a pen (or eraser equipped pencil if you like) how can you ever appreciate the effort by the Bard to compose such masterful prose and poetry?
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.
With all the useless skills I was required to learn in school, to borrow the words from Paul Simon’s Kodachrome “When I look back on all the crap I learned in high school…,” at least the skill of detecting and avoiding an incoming eraser served me well as a police officer.
One should never underestimate the benefit of having the ability to duck thrown objects. Maybe if Sesame Street had Oscar the Grouch throw erasers at Big Bird and Elmo to teach them to duck it might be a more practical life lesson.
Come to think of it, maybe this is the solution to school shootings. Pass a law permitting teachers to use erasers as a disciplinary measure on a regular basis thus preserving the skill. Then, equip them will special ballistic erasers that can incapacitate any would be shooter.
If kids go to school living in fear of the sting of a well-placed eraser maybe the nightmarish memory will be enough to make those who compensate for their inadequacies by acquiring guns choose another target. Not a perfect solution but a step in the right direction.
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JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
I came upon a car here in Arizona (I know, who’d have thunk it possible) proudly bearing a sticker on the rear window (an SUV, of course) like this.
I wondered what exactly this “regular” mom was trying to accomplish.
She obviously did not want her children to learn,
Critical thinking.
Forming one’s own opinion.
Logic and analysis.
Ability to envision both sides of any issue.
Tolerance.
Inclusiveness.
Confidence in one’s ability to grasp complex issues.
Rationality over emotion.
Compassion.
Respect for opposing views.
Bipartisanship.
Understanding of the meaning of compromise.
Broad perspectives.
Open and varied educational pursuits.
Contributing to progress rather than stasis and stagnation.
It struck me as both comical and tragic that someone would brag about being this close-minded and publicly announcing their intent to propagandize their children.
Isn’t a parent’s primary responsibility to instill a sense of both obligation to living a good life and an appreciation of the many perspectives held by others? To respect themselves as much as others? To earn respect and offer it to others?
I don’t think the intent announced by this bumper sticker counts as being a “regular” mom. It counts as being a propaganda machine for narrow-mindedness and intolerance. I only wish there were some way I could see into the future and read the bumper stickers on her children’s future cars…I bet they would be the unintended consequences of this “regular” mom’s best efforts.
Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated.Thanks.
A controversy has arisen over the distribution of graphic images on Twitter from the recent shooting at a Texas Mall. People were outraged at the insensitivity of those who used their cell phones to capture and post pictures of the victims and for Twitter allowing the images to be posted.
My first reaction to these video voyeurs is one of disgust. How someone can stand there and take pictures without trying to help the victims or stop the violence is beyond me. But, having been a police officer for 20 years, it is an innate reaction for me and those who were and are serving officers. When bad things happen, cops run toward the problem while everyone else runs away. I could never live with myself if I did such a thing, let alone stand there and take pictures.
But there may be an unintended benefit to what I—rightfully or wrongfully—consider cowardice.
Perhaps displaying these graphic images is precisely what we need to force us to act and do something about the violence plaguing this country.
Instead of the same tired images of Police Chiefs or Sheriffs holding press conferences to explain what they are doing after the fact and the bravado of how they promise to “hunt down and capture” any of the escaped perpetrators,
Instead of the usual polar opposite politicians screaming for more laws and banning guns or extolling how they are praying for the victims yet standing firmly in support of the Second Amendment,
Instead of repeating the same pattern of breaking news, tallying the number of victims, delving into the troubled lives of the shooters, tearful images from the resulting funerals, and talking heads debating ad nauseum over the same issues,
Maybe these graphic images of what bullets do to the human body—the splattered blood, the horrific exit wounds, the shattered skulls, the splayed viscera, the severed limbs, the missing faces, and the bits and pieces of what was once a living, breathing human should be shown every single moment until we find a way to end this.
And let’s not stop there. Let’s capture the audio sounds of the dead and dying, the horrific screams of a parent standing over the bullet-ridden body of their child, the agony of ripped and torn flesh, the painful wailing of children, one moment enjoying a day at the mall, then their lives shattered when pierced by bullets bearing our name under the banner of the Second Amendment.
Let’s put all the horror witnessed almost daily by first responders out there so everyone can share the nightmares haunting them.
During the Vietnam War, a similar controversy arose over the display of the picture of a young girl, all her clothes burned off her body from a napalm bombing near her village, running down a street with Army of the Republic of Viet Nam (ARVN) servicemen walking behind her.
The picture was taken by Nick Ut, Associated Press in 1972.
There was significant criticism about the publication of that image. Yet, perhaps this most horrific example of the horrors of war helped the United States come to terms with the errors of judgment in thrusting us into that war.
As was the publication of the open casket image of Emmett Till. Perhaps if more of those images had been published we’d have experienced less horror.
In times of incidents like the Texas Mall shooting, I hold those who, while capable of helping yet choosing to be voyeuristic spectators, as despicable and disgraceful. But I think trying to stop the distribution of such graphic images is merely another way to guarantee these incidents will happen again. And again. And Again!
Put every single victim on display for everyone to see. The more horrific, the more effective. If we had not cared enough to protect them before they were shot, perhaps their death and the horrors of their suffering might save others from becoming victims in the future.
Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated.Thanks.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
Having been a huge fan of fish & chips my entire life, building my palette early on with the delightful Frozen Fish Sticks of my youth (particularly the frozen tartar sauce garnish) I now have a well-researched secret to knowing if the fish & chips at any new restaurant will measure up.
The secret is in the Coleslaw (or as we originally knew it, colds lore.)
Not too heavy with the mayonnaise (never that German style.) Not too sweet, just a hint. And no fruit!
Whenever I try a new place for fish & chips, there is always the potential to be disappointed. But I have discovered a little-known link between the quality of the fish & chips and the quality of the coleslaw.
If the coleslaw is good, the fish & chips are almost always excellent. There are some exceptions. There is a seafood restaurant in Rhode Island I shall refrain from naming that has exceptional everything, including the fish & chips, but their coleslaw is a disaster.
But as a rule, enjoy the coleslaw, enjoy the fish & chips.
It’s hard for many places to compare with the original and pleasurable experience of the Friday night Frozen Fish Sticks of my youth, but a taste of well-made coleslaw in anticipation of equally well-prepared fish & chips comes very close.
One other thing I would add, and I must credit the Brits for this (although I suspect they stole it from the Irish.) Fish & Chips are most properly enjoyed not with a fork but by taking firm hold of the portion—well smothered in tartar sauce—and eating by hand.
It is the only civilized way. And there’s the bonus of all the disgusted looks from the heathens using forks.
Please take a moment to share my work on social media. Agree or disagree, the more who read this the bigger the opportunity to share with others and promote meaningful dialog. It would be greatly appreciated.Thanks.
JEBWizard Publishing (www.jebwizardpublishing.com) is a hybrid publishing company focusing on new and emerging authors. We offer a full range of customized publishing services.
Everyone has a story to tell, let us help you share it with the world. We turn publishing dreams into a reality. For more information and manuscript submission guidelines contact us at info@jebwizardpublishing.com or 401-533-3988.
