"A Nation Furious at Injustice"

Joe Biden implores "a nation furious with injustice" over the George Floyd killing to restrain ourselves. I am not furious with injustice. I would bet that 90% of the population is not furious with injustice. Based on what I saw the cop used excessive force. He has been arrested and charged with murder. In a nation of laws this is called justice. What Biden's statement is intended to do is to get the black vote by showing his outrage at a black being murdered.

There is a percentage of our population that defines justice as the opportunity to give rise to their animal nature; to use the George Floyd incidents to burn businesses and public property and to steal whatever they can get their hands on. And when they've crawled back into whatever hole they came from after setting fire to a police car, and admiring the televisions and microwaves and what ever else they've looted, do you think they will discuss how they have fairly meted out justice? How they have righted the wrong done to George Floyd? No...the discussion will be how to convert their loot to cash. And maybe hoping that there will be more riots of indignation tonight so that more looting and destruction of property can be done.

Will the nation be furious with injustice tonight when hundreds of blacks shoot each other over gang wars, or drug deals gone bad, or mess'n with someone else's girl? Will the black leaders like Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson shout indignantly that "...this has got to stop?" They will if a white guy was the shooter. But you won't hear a word from them if it was just blacks involved. What  hypocrisy...what ignorance.

Cops in this country have a thankless task. They deal with the dregs of society every day and night. It must take superhuman restraint to do their job impassively in the face of the atrocities they see. Occasionally some can't exercise that restraint, resulting in a George Floyd or Rodney King incident. A case could be made that the cop was just as much a victim as Floyd was; a victim of decades of years trying to enforce laws among a population that has no regard for laws or decency.

What remains of the 'American culture' still has a place for those willing to assimilate, to abide by laws, to contribute to society, to respect and display human decency. Sadly, I am no longer naive enough to believe that will happen.  

Déjà Vu

For nine years, up to July 2017 Maribel and I split our time between Peru and the US. We had a charity in Peru named Promesa Peru Chiclayo. For the purpose of this post there is no need to get into the details of the charity but the link is live in case anyone is interested. Actually I don't know what the purpose of this post is or where it's going so I guess we'll find out together as it unfolds.

It dawns on me that I'm taking liberties with the phrase "we'll find out" because I really don't know if there is anyone outside of a couple of friends reading this blog. My old blog about our activities in Peru had hundreds of regular readers from 144 countries. There was an eastern university that asked permission to use the blog as source material and did so for a couple of years. Photos from that blog showed up in a British journal. I regularly received email requests for advice and information. The blog had a lot of traffic because there were and I believe still are lots of folks interested in Peru. 

By contrast probably only a handful of people know that this blog exists. It doesn't show up on any search engines. If you Google Twilight in Northwest Georgia you'll get nada, unless you put quotes around it. Don't misunderstand. I'm not complaining. I like to write and sometimes like to put my thoughts on paper. I honestly don't know why I'm doing it on a public forum. Maybe I see it as some sort of legacy...maybe a hundred years from now a descendant of mine will become interested in genealogy and discover who his great, great, great uncle Tom was and what he thought. Okay, back to wherever this thing is going.  

Twice each year we'd return to the states for a couple of months for what we half-jokingly referred to as 'back to civilization time'.  We'd visit different parts of the country and visit any people we knew in the area. One thing we always did toward the end of the trip was shopping. It was usually me following Maribel from store to store as she looked for presents to take back to friends and family in Chiclayo. And as I followed her I would always have the same thoughts...feeling good about returning to Peru but at the same time feeling sad about leaving the familiar stores, customs and English speaking people. Also on my mind was the impending hassle of packing, checking out of the hotel, returning the rental car, and all of the headaches associated with airports and flying.

Now I know where I'm going with this post. Wherever we were in the states we made it a point to check out the local Kohls and J C Penny stores. Maribel almost always found suitable gifts at those stores. There is a J C Penny store in the Hamilton Place Mall in Chattanooga, not far from our house. What I'm about to write will seem strange, but here goes. There is a particular spot on the first floor of that store where I experience deja vu...the thought that soon our visit will end and we will be returning to Peru. It only lasts for a second or two and then I realize that I'm not returning to Peru. It's like a Twilight Zone thing; it happens every time in that same location. I can't explain it.

Like every other business in the mall, Penny's closed because of the corona virus. But with Penny's financial problems I'm betting that the store will never open again. It was announced recently that Penny's will be closing 242 stores this year. I have no doubt that the Hamilton Mall store will be one of them. There will probably be a going out of business sale so I may have the opportunity to stand in that location again. I wonder if I will still have the same sensation? Somehow I don't think so. 

The Taurus G2c - parte dos

It occurs to me that I may have been a bit hasty in my conclusion a couple of posts ago about the Taurus G2c, though I still say it should have worked perfectly out of the box. Maribel and I were at the shooting range today for two reasons. One was to familiarize Maribel with the gun and secondly to see if it would shoot without jamming. But before I get into that, let me comment about the cost of a shooting session at the gun range I've been shooting at. Previously I've gone with my neighbor who has a membership. The cost for me was nothing. This time it was just Maribel and me.

Upon entering the shop I told the attendant we wanted to use the range for 30 minutes. I would have liked to have stayed longer but this was Maribel's first time at a range and with this gun and I didn't know how comfortable she would feel. The man said that for 30 minutes the cost was $40. I thought about saying that I didn't want to buy the range, just use it for 30 minutes. Instead I said that we would be sharing one lane. He replied that the cost was $20 per shooter, not based on the number of lanes. 

In northern Wisconsin there are thousands of acres of Federal, State and County forests. You can shoot anywhere that you would like in those forests. Our property bordered a forest. All I had to do was step outside, nail a target to a tree and fire away. I need to find out if there are similar situations near our house. $40 for 30 minutes of shooting is exorbitant.  

Anyway, we put on our hearing and eye protection, entered the range, hung our target and loaded the gun. Maribel watched me fire the first 12-round magazine. Then she fired about 20 rounds before saying she had had enough. I fired off two more magazines and then our 30 minute time limit was up. I am happy to say that the gun functioned perfectly. Accuracy wise at 7 yards the elevation is dead on. It is shooting about an inch and one-half to the left. When I am able to save up enough money for another session at the range I will take a screwdriver with me to correct the windage. 

So the gun shot flawlessly, the magazine release worked smoothly, but I forgot to try the slide catch, which I don't need anyway so I don't care if it never works. The gun is shooting, feels good in my hands, and will do the job I bought it for...home protection. I'll settle for that. 

A Day in the Life....

I saw what follows hanging on a wall of a Rome, Georgia restaurant last June. I've been thinking a lot about its message lately.

The message had an impact on me. Was what I did yesterday a waste or was it good? What will I do with today, and tomorrow? And how do I decide what is waste and what is good? I suppose I could label every single activity I do as either waste or good, assign each of them a point value and at the end of the day add up both columns to see whether waste or good had the highest score. But that wouldn't work. A wasted or good day can't be determined numerically. It's determined by a feeling. Somehow, by some mechanism unknown to me I know at the end of the day whether it was a wasted or good day. And because we are all unique individuals, what may have been a wasted day for me was a good day for someone else, and vice-versa. But there's more to it then that.

I think that deciding on whether a day was good or wasted has as much or maybe even more to do with how many days you have, or hope to have remaining. When you're in your 20s it's okay to blow the day off. You've got lots of tomorrows. But as your tomorrows bank account diminishes each day takes on a greater importance. And, at least for me, the definition of a good or wasted day changes. A day doesn't have to be filled with activity to be good. All that is necessary for me is, at the end of the day, to feel peaceful and content about whatever I did. And when going to bed giving a little thought to what I might like to do with tomorrow. Whatever I do, I'd like it to be worthwhile. I'll be exchanging a day of my life for it. 

The Taurus G2c - a gun review

Tennessee and Georgia traditionally have some of the highest crime rates in the country, and when people started losing their jobs because of the corona virus I speculated that muggings and home break-ins could become a problem. That in itself seemed like a good enough reason to finally buy that gun that I'd been thinking about for awhile. There were other reasons. For one, I'm still surprised by the number of men who carry concealed guns in this part of the country. It's almost like a religion to some. Another reason to own a gun goes back six years to a hotel in Clearwater Beach.

It was 4:30 AM when I heard a gentle knocking on our door. I opened the curtain a bit and saw the father of all biker dudes. He was huge. He had the bandanna, white tee shirt and leather vest and the boots. When I asked him what he wanted he said he had rode in from Miami and was there to meet his woman, who had given him the name of the hotel and room number. I told him there was a mistake; that my wife and I had rented the room for the past 3 days and didn't know anything about his woman. He kept showing me a slip of paper with our room number on it and insisted that she must be in the room. About this time Maribel got up to go to the bathroom and the dude saw her. He shouted out, "That's her!" and started banging on the door. This was starting to get serious so I did what any red-blooded American male would do...I picked up the phone and called the front desk. In less than a minute a middle-aged woman arrived and threatened to call the police. The man left without arguing. If he had made it into our room I don't know what would have happened. He was far too big and young for me to handle. A gun in my hand would have felt comforting.

My neighbors gun, a 9mm Taurus G2c felt comfortable in my hand at a shooting range last week. Not only was it comfortable but I was shooting the hell out of the bullseye, which surprised me after not shooting in over 15 years. I made up my mind then and there that I was going to get that gun. Local gun shops were out of stock for that gun so after calling around Maribel and me drove to Bass Pro Shop in Lawrenceville, GA near Atlanta. They had seven of the guns in stock.  

The first gun I handled didn't feel right; not like my neighbor's gun. It was difficult to rack the slide, the slide catch didn't seem to work at all, and the magazine release was inconsistent. Sometimes the mag would pop out as it should, other times I had to pull it out. But the gun still felt comfortable in my hand, so I asked the clerk to get a different boxed gun for me, opened the box to see that the gun and all the parts were there, bought it and drove home.

Later at home that night I was getting a bad feeling about that gun. The slide didn't rack easily, the magazine release didn't always work, and the slide release didn't work at all, just like the gun I rejected in the store. I showed the gun to my neighbor the next day. He disassembled and oiled it but the issues remained. Despite the problems he told me not to worry, that the gun would be okay after shooting it for awhile. That it had to be worked in like a new pair of boots. I wasn't so sure.

The next day I bought ammunition, loaded the gun and placed it in a safe yet convenient place. Maribel and me both agreed that we felt a bit more secure knowing we could defend ourselves and our home if necessary. 

A few days later I was at a shooting range with my neighbor, ready to put the new gun through its paces. I racked the slide, released the safety and fired. I could not fire again because the gun had jammed. My neighbor cleared the jam and returned the gun to me. I fired and again it jammed. This happened repeatedly despite all the adjustments my neighbor was attempting, including different magazines and ammo. Now, I'm not a patient man and was about to tell my neighbor to put the gun down, that my next stop was back to Bass Pro Shop when he fired three consecutive shots without jamming. He handed the gun to me; I shot off the rest of the mag, loaded another of 12 rounds and fired them all without a jam. For the next 30 minutes until we left that gun fired flawlessly. And the magazine release worked. The slide catch still doesn't work but it's not really needed to fire and reload the gun so I can do without it, though my neighbor still holds out the hope that with a few more sessions at the range it too will work. The accuracy of the gun was acceptable but not outstanding, but that was probably my fault. I was just hoping the gun would fire and was not concentrating on where. The groups did get tighter toward the end of the session.

So now the gun is apparently working. But what I can't forget is what would have happened if during the first night I had loaded the gun and some intruders had entered our house? I would have had one shot and then the gun would have jammed. Maribel and I could have been killed.

And even though it fired without a malfunction the last 30 minutes at the range I still am not confident with it. Like my neighbor, many shooters will say that a new gun will be 'tight' and needs "a few hundred rounds through it" to loosen it up. I'll need to fire at least another 300 rounds through it without a malfunction before I trust it. And that shouldn't be.

When you buy a car, toaster, bicycle, electric drill, lawn mower, blender, drone, camera, microwave or any other piece of machinery you expect it to work from the get go. You wouldn't buy or accept something that didn't work until you broke it in. We call something like that a lemon. An auto-loading pistol is a simple piece of machinery with maybe three moving parts. Shouldn't it be expected to work right out of the box? Why should gun makers get a free pass on poor quality? And that's what it is. The fact that the gun I rejected in the store and the one I bought had identical problems tells me that either machine tolerances or fine-finishing during the manufacturing process are not being monitored, or worse, are within acceptable standards for the manufacturer. 

I'll be taking Maribel to the shooting range in a few days to familiarize her with the gun. If that gun so much as hiccups it's going back to the store. I'll be stuck with the ammo, magazine loader, hearing and eye protection and holster I bought. But at least I didn't shell out the $82 for a concealed carry permit. 

Even before the gun problems I was wondering if I really need a concealed weapon permit. I can't see myself saying to Maribel that, "I'm going to Walmart or Walgreen's or the Waffle House and I'm carrying the gun." I mean come on...it's not like I'm riding off to the OK Corral to join the Earps in a shoot out. Still...in the not too distant past people have been shot in or on the parking lots of Walmart, Walgreen's and the Waffle House restaurant. Maybe some citizen with a gun could have saved the situation. 

I guess I'll decide on any future gun issues after the next shooting range visit to see if the gun shoots properly and how well Maribel handles it. Oh...and my opinion on the Taurus G2c? Save up your money and buy a good revolver like the Smith & Wesson 626 or Ruger SP101 in 357 magnum. Revolvers don't have a slide to rack, or a slide catch or a magazine release. And when you pull the trigger they fire every time. They don't jam. No break in period required.

For the Last Time

It seems to me that there should be something special about the last time. By special I don't mean a party or celebration, parade, or a gala event with keynote speakers. Those things would only detract from and even soil what should be the specialness of the last time. The last time should be marked by a final glance and then thanked and sent on it's way with a quiet, dignified poignancy. And maybe that's what we would do if we knew it was the last time, but mostly we don't. And that's sad. Something that has existed for maybe decades or perhaps only momentarily has disappeared unacknowledged and forgotten.

Do you remember your best friend? Do you remember the last time you saw him or her? Do you remember how you parted? It was probably one of those "see ya" or "call me" partings, fully expecting to be with them again. But sometimes life takes funny turns, and things get in the way and our circumstances change and before you know it you've lost track of your best friend. If you had known that that was the last time you would see him or her would you have acted differently?

For many years I deer hunted in a particular section of woods near the Peshtigo River in Wisconsin.  I knew that stretch of forest like the back of my hand. I had a couple of favorite oak trees I would sit against that overlooked well used deer trails. And through the trees I could see glimpses of the river. It was so peaceful and beautiful, especially toward sunset. But like I said, things change and a few years had slipped away without my being in that woods. One fall afternoon I drove 'up north' dressed in camo hunting clothing with my bow hunting gear looking forward to again sitting against one of my favorite trees if I could find them, and maybe getting some venison for the freezer. When I arrived there was no woods for me to walk into. Instead there were paved roads and yuppie houses with flower gardens and mailboxes. It took awhile for my brain to process what I was seeing. I remember my mind refusing to believe what was in front of me. I kept repeating, "this can't be." 

I drove away from there as quickly as I could. During the days I hunted there I never thought to take pictures of those trees I sat against, or the river through the trees. I've tried to remember the last time I hunted there but can't do it. I wonder, if I had known that last day I hunted there that I would never be back what I would have thought or done. Maybe carved my initials in a tree, or took a limb to carve something out of it as a souvenir. I don't know, but I would have done something to mark that last time. Now it's lost. 

Shortly after high school graduation my best friend moved with his family to a different city. There were still frequent phone calls and regular visits but after time the visits became less frequent, instead becoming intentions and the phone calls followed the same path. It wasn't until my 50th high school reunion that I learned that he had taken his own life at age 26. I don't remember anything about the last time I saw or spoke with him. I still regret not having made an effort to locate him.

When Maribel and me lived in Wisconsin there was a lake within ten minutes of our house. We both like to eat fish, especially fresh caught fish and we could always count on that lake to produce several meals for us. Usually it was Maribel who suggested that we hook up the boat and get some fish. Perch, bluegill and crappie were our favorite eating fish. Casting 1/16 oz Beetle Spins with ultra-light gear would fill our fish bag quickly. That lake is the one thing we miss most living here in Georgia. We often talk about it, but never once did we think to take a camera in the boat, and neither of us can remember the last time we fished there. We took photos of some of our catches after returning home but never on the lake.

When we learned that I needed open heart surgery we told most of our friends and family members, not making a big deal out of it. There is one friend I have living in Miami who, for reasons I don't need to get into, I have a stronger bond with than others. As the day of my surgery approached he sent an email, encouraging me and talking about our next get-together when I was healed. I wrote back, saying that I had a great cardiologist, surgeon and hospital so was confident everything would turn out okay. Then on an impulse I added that if anything went wrong I wanted him to know that I really enjoyed our friendship over the years and was glad that our paths had crossed. Within minutes he responded with, "Tom, just like everything else you've faced, YOU GOT THIS! I felt good. If this were to be the last time we communicated, I had marked it as special and had closure. 

I think that this post is actually an extension of my last post, having to do with an aspect of living life. It's probably not possible for anyone to think that it may be the last time they are seeing someone or something, or doing something for the last time or being someplace for the last time. But we do know those people places and things we enjoy most at the moment and maybe if we kept in mind that this may be the last time, years later it would make our memories even more enjoyable and complete.

Age Does Not Imply Wisdom

I wrote a memoir. I worked on it off and on for years, deleting, adding, rewriting, sometimes putting it in a drawer for months after pronouncing it crap, then retrieving it, deciding it wasn't so bad and continuing on. It took about eight years to finish it. Well, I don't know if anyone ever finishes a memoir. I think you reach a point where you've removed or at least understated all the bad stuff you did that you'd rather not dwell on, embellished the good stuff, mixed in a few little white lies and finally write THE END. A few years later after moving back to the States I added a really short final chapter briefly talking about the how, why and when of our relocation from Peru to Georgia. I wanted the memoir to finish in the location where I assume I am going to finish.

I was working on the memoir when I reached my 75th birthday. These days being 75 is nothing remarkable. There are lots of 80 and 85 year-olds running around. But still, 75 is a big number and the thought occurred to me that maybe I should add a final chapter to the memoir titled "What I Have Learned." Now, I'm not talking about things I've learned like 1+1 =2. I'm talking about life...what it means and how to live it. I started with a blank sheet, intending to bullet-point the things I've learned and fleshing them out later. That sheet stayed blank for a long time. Try it sometime. Try listing what you think you've learned/know about life. I never did add that chapter.

There were some among the early philosophers who said that we could not know anything, knowledge was unattainable...that we could not even know for certain that we exist. This contention is what prompted Rene Descartes to postulate, "I think, therefore I am." Had I been there, just to play devil's advocate I would have replied, "Rene, it may be that you only think that you think, therefore it's possible you may exist, but maybe not."

During the theatrical period of my life I remember being on a stage and delivering the line, "Wisdom doesn't come with age, wisdom comes with wisdom. I'm 65 years old and I don't know shit!" I think that line pretty much sums up what I know about life. I don't like to generalize, but I believe there are a whole lot of people who don't know what they think they know, going through life guided by beliefs, values and principles, but not knowledge. If someone today were to ask me what I know about life I would probably respond that I don't know anything. Nothing. If I were asked what I have come to believe about life, I could answer because in the absence of knowledge all we have is beliefs. Some of my beliefs would be unpopular with others, but they are my beliefs and they helped to form my values and they work for me. 

I think that any discussion about life and living probably has to begin with how and why we got here. I don't know how we got here. I believe it was through some type of chemical process. I don't give credence to the question of why we are here, because the question implies purpose. I don't believe in creation or a creator so don't believe there is a collective meaning or purpose to our existence. I believe that every person, if they choose to, can assign their own personal meaning and purpose to their individual lives. The same goes for success and failure

I believe that every person has the right to adopt their own personal beliefs and values. It is my opinion that most of the conflict between people and nations is the result of people or nations attempting to impose their beliefs and values on others. If the beliefs and values of others were respected, so long as they don't impose on others, this would be a different world. 

In that same vein, I believe it is a good idea, for the purpose of mental well being to avoid those people who regularly offer unsolicited advice, usually in the form of what you should or shouldn't do. They too are trying to force their beliefs and values on you. And they are people who are generally just plain obnoxious. 

Also in the interest of preserving peace of mind, I believe it is wise to avoid people who have what I call 'camp director' personalities. Their nature is to take charge in any and all situations. Those whose nature is not to be taken charge of must exercise 'heightened situational awareness' to avoid potential unpleasant conflict when in the presence of such personalities. And they are people who are generally just plain obnoxious.

I believe that most people are honest and 'good' (whatever that means), but there are far too many dishonest people to justify automatic trust in anyone not known.

I believe that the Golden Rule is a pretty good guide to keep in mind.

I believe that the "absolutes" so often referred to regarding human conduct are merely unwritten rules of society that spell out the should's and shouldn'ts of activity as we go through life. These absolutes change over time and in different cultures. Many people believe that absolutes, in the context I am using the word, exist independent of humans and are natural or are dictates from a god, such as the ten commandments.

I believe that as a species we've made great strides in technology, but in general in terms of our behavior and intelligence we're not far from the caves. That's not condemnation; just observation.

I've got lots of other beliefs but I think I've listed the most substantive, at least to me. No need in rambling on, but there is one final belief I'd like to write about. I've talked about my view that the individual determines what for them is life's meaning, purpose, success and failure, but there is one thing that we all seem to have in common, and that is to be happy.

As you might suppose I believe that the individual determines what makes them happy. If there is a general rule to achieving happiness, to me it would be that the little things and the memories of those little things constitute happiness. I've had my moments of fame, glory and triumph (they made it into my memoir). A couple of times I've been so deep in the pit that I couldn't see a way out (didn't make the memoir). But now, months away from 80, it's not the triumphs or tragedies that I think about or remember. It's a walk in the woods, visiting a small town, finishing a good book, relaxing in the backyard and listening to the birds, having lunch with friends, hours of good discussion, grilling outside over a wood fire, frequenting antique shops, and most of all, anything done with my wife Maribel. Those are the things that upon reflection bring a smile to my face. We're still doing those things...still enjoying the moment and creating new memories that we're putting into the bank to be savored later.

During the course of our lives we're constantly subjected to outside influences...from our parents, relatives, friends, church, organizations, employers and so on. Some of those influences are mandatory. Laws make it possible for us to live collectively in a semi-civilized manner. Other influences may be traditional, cultural, or in the form of absolutes mentioned earlier. It is my belief that the individual who recognizes that most influences are not mandatory, and who seriously examines each one, adopting those that for him/her feel right and discarding those that don't, has the best chance to achieve happiness.