An Unforgettable Melancholic Tale of Ghetto Life

An Unforgettable Melancholic Tale of Ghetto Life:

I have seen my share of good outcomes in life, an even bigger share of tragedies, and at some point enough is enough. God's evolutionary process may be brilliant, but it leaves a path strewn with victims en route to progress. My career gave me a long standing front row seat to view the early productive years of a diverse population of young people. I recently stumbled across something I wrote decades ago. It is a tale unsettling and yet so typical of too much about life.  A lot of what happens to people in life has little, if anything, to do with good and evil, but fortunate and unfortunate. Reality is often too much in our face and too brutal to fully comprehend. It has been my nature to question my own fate had I been born in a different time, in a different place, to different parents, with different physical and mental characteristics. Thus I have always been intrigued with those mired from birth in more difficult circumstances, and how they escape or overcome such disadvantages. This is a real tale, perhaps interesting to others and maybe not. It interests me again because I need to see if decades later any better answers come to the surface. I could write dozens upon dozens of tales about young people which raise more questions than answers. And such tales involve young people from all kinds of background.  Delete if it is not your cup of tea. 

Ray was a tall lanky otherwise nondescript young adult. I first met him when he was sitting outside my office for like 2 hours, I thinking he was waiting to see someone else since he never claimed he was next to come in my office. So, gathering my things I prepared to leave when he awkwardly indicated he wanted to see me. When I  inquired why he sat there for two hours he simply explained he was not in any of my classes and so thought he had to wait until the others were done. "Ok, so what do you want?" I impatiently asked. Looking about as uncomfortable as any young person can, he told me a friend told him to come to see me if he needed a job.  I assumed he was a biology or chemistry major and wanted to be hired on a research grant. But, it turned out, he was a math major and so I told him his friend was just pulling a joke on him. He had the kind of face that mirrored his emotional state and it was clear this 'joke' was very unsettling---he just reeked with embarrassment. I walked out of the building with him, tried to make small talk, and failed, but I sensed he needed encouragement so I told him he should check with me once in a while, and if I heard of any jobs around, I would let him know. HIs eyes got real big and he stared at me with wonderment: "You will, really?

The next day, the students who worked for me were laughing because their friend Ray had been fooled and waited 2 hrs on a wild goose chase. I forgot the whole thing until several weeks later when I bumped into Ray on the campus and asked: "Hey, I thought you were going to check in with me about a job?" He told me he was too embarrassed to come back. I told him: "Look, if you really want to find a job on campus, you are going to have to learn to be a pest, a real persistent pest with people."  So he showed up again. I knew of no jobs (I hadn't really thought about it either), so felt a bit guilty and talked with him a bit, but he volunteered little information about himself, like I was prying and he didn't feel comfortable with it. So I asked the students who worked for me and found out Ray lived in a small apartment with his mother in the worst ghetto in Chicago. I responded that he didn't seem ghetto to me. They told me there is no one like Ray, that he didn't swear, didn't smoke, didn't lie, didn't drink, and lived in his own little restricted world. 

Anyway, I was in charge of the Animal care Facility at the University and we were looking for a Civil Service person to manage the Animal Room operation. I kept insisting to the Chairperson that we ought to let a responsible student run the facility, and this was holding the thing up. But I had a 'cool' Chairperson at the time and she finally said to me, "Reid, do it your way, this is your area,  but the Administration is not going to go along with this, and I am putting my opposition to this in writing and if it blows up in your face, you and you alone will have to take responsibility. You don't hire a student to manage an Animal Care Facility." Shortly after that Ray stopped by again still looking for work. For some reason, in the middle of our conversation, it struck me that maybe Ray could run the Animal Care Facility. So I told Ray I had a job for him after all, but he had to promise me that he would be absolutely responsible about it. He lit up like a Christmas tree, one big smile and two mammoth jubilant eyes. He quickly became incredulous that he was going to get a job and then became aghast: "There are animals in this building? What kind of animals? Rats? Are you kidding? I'm afraid of animals. How big are these rats? Will I have to touch them?"  I cut him off. "look Ray, you want a job, you want to make a decent salary, you got to toughen up and just do what you need to do to make a go of it.  If you really can't handle it I will fire you, but you need to at least try, and trust me not to give you something you can't handle." But he wouldn't , or I should say just couldn't budge, he was frightened to death. This was back in the 70's when the minimum wage was like $4.50/hr and the highest student pay level on campus was like $6/hr. A Civil Service employee would have cost like $20,000/yr. So I told Ray I would pay him $9/hr to do the job. His friends who worked for me and had pulled the 'trick' on him got like $5.50/hr. After two days of pushing him, he finally agreed to give it a try. I sensed he certainly would try. 

His friends from my lab came down all laughing, telling me that Ray was trying to get even with them for their 'joke', telling them that he was going to be in charge of the Animal Care Facility and that he was going to be paid $9/hr. Their laughter turned to shock when I reminded them that, in their own words, Ray doesn't lie. "How can he be in charge of the Animal Room, he is afraid of all animals. He isn't even a science major." So I leveled with them: "Look, he is your friend, you know his situation in life, so you help him, you get him not to be afraid of animals, build up his confidence. And by the way, he really is in charge of the Animal Care Facility, so if any of you give him any static or fail to meet any rules set up, you will be fired. So help your friend and protect your own ass and my neck here. You all told me there is no one else like Ray, so unless you have changed your mind, let's all of us make it work."   

The administrators balked at paying Ray $9/hr., some $3/hr higher than the highest student pay. Absolutely can't be done they claimed. At 25 hrs/wk his salary would come to $11,700, a more than $8000 saving over a Civil Service employee. Faced with having $8000 more dollars in their budget to squander away, or having me revert to accepting a Civil Service employee they gave in and of course found a way to pay Ray $9/hr. My lab assistants really did help him. Ray had trouble giving orders or enforcing rules but also understood he would get fired if he didn't, and he was so unassuming and naive that other students helped him along by teaching him how to say what he wanted done and be tough about it. The faculty fell in line quickly, a miracle in itself. Typical was one faculty member who told me: "That guy you have running the Animal Care facility is really a nice guy. I fussed at him about something the other day and then afterward felt real bad I had ever hollered at him. He held his ground but in such a way that he made me feel like a jerk for fussing. I went back and apologized and told him not to let any of us tell him how to run the facility. Everyone who works for me I have told to do whatever he says in regards to the animal room."

Next came the battle over a key to the building so he could get in at any time. Not even faculty were given keys to the building, you had to call security at odd hours. It took a letter from NIH dictating that the person in charge of the Animal Care facility must have a key to the building before the administration would give him one. Over time one learns who will jump for who and why. At some point someone found out Ray sometimes slept overnight in one of the animal room prep rooms. Ray explained to me that his work up in Animal Care often kept him up there late and his mom didn't want him on the city buses and trains and streets late at night. Fortunately security had come to know Ray well and took a united stand that having Ray in the building all night actually gave the Biology Building more security than any other building. All the Department Chairs in the building had endorsed giving Ray a key. I got the usual letter of pompous condemnation for creating the stir. Fair enough. 

Soon Ray was a fixture around the building even though he wasn't a science major. I can't recall ever having to discipline or even fuss at him about anything. He was perfect for the job. The students working on a research project with me were scheduled to fly to New Orleans to give research reports, and this venture left Ray green with envy. Most kids in a ghetto rarely stray more than a few blocks from home, if I can use the term loosely. I never have really understood that. One day I asked Ray, "You want to go to New Orleans?" He had never been outside Chicago in  his life, never been anywhere period. I put him on the travel list and the administration reacted as expected. I got a note stating since Ray was not giving any report he could not go and it was non negotiable. Well (smile), every grant brought into the University brings with it 10% overhead to the University. So, I told them fine, but if he stays, I will not reapply for the grant. I noted that Ray was just as much a member of the group as anyone else and he had earned the right to go---he was saving the University thousands of dollars, was doing an excellent job, had little going for him in his home life, and deserved a little perk now and then. Speaking of perks, I reminded the administration, the cost of Ray to go was little more than the cost to provide a catered lunch at a meeting of the Deans. I got the student newspaper to run a poll over whether Ray should go and the Deans bring their own lunch for the next meeting. Ray went, and I am sure the Deans had their usual catered lunch. Win, win I guess that is called. 

A legitimate question is certainly why I was repeatedly willing to clash with University administrators in order to secure the welfare of Ray. I think the answer is that Ray sort of intrigued the hell out of me. List all the qualities we tend to say are noble in human nature----honesty, responsibility, humility, unselfishness, cooperativeness, diligence, loyalty, tolerance, politeness, etc. and there it all seemed to be in Ray---a young person raised by a single parent in the worse area of an urban ghetto with not a pot to piss in.  As I told the Chairperson, "We are all busy gouging our pockets from the pot of money available to run the University, so what is wrong with letting a kid like Ray get a small handful of it? And who works harder for the little bit of money we let Ray grab? Everybody wins here, including the damn administrators and yet they try to make out there is a problem going on here."  The Chairperson in this case was cool. She was a character in her own right. In her office one day, while I was there, the phone rang and it was one of the Vice-Presidents. Her response to the call went something like this: "Oh, for Christ's sake, haven't you got something better to do? The Animal Care Facility is being run fine, probably one of the cleanest in the country, and we are saving money. No, I am not going to tell Dr. James anything, he won't listen anyway, and I am quite happy with the Animal Room. You can try to remove him from control but it will bring NIH out here and you will lose. Leave it all alone. What do you guys know about running an Animal Care Facility? It is mostly cleaning up shit, why are you so concerned who cleans up shit?" Anyway she was a cool person in my book. If we  want to do a good job our own way, we need be very careful about the kind of boss we have. 

One day a new EKG instrument arrived and I wanted to test it out. Ray was around with the rest of the students so I asked him to sit and let us hook him up to the machine. Ray would not do it no matter how hard I pushed, insisting that it was not part of his job description. So later I called him into the office and asked him what that was all about. He hemmed, he hawed, he fidgeted around and finally told me one time in high school he tried out for basketball and in some sort of physical a doctor told him he needed to get this heart checked out and wouldn't pass Ray on the physical. But Ray was afraid of doctors and had no health insurance. For many weeks I leaned on him not to ignore the situation, that he had to get some medical tests. But he was adamant, he felt fine, he couldn't afford it, and was scared. Finally I called the University of Chicago Hospital, identified myself as a physiologist  and asked to speak to one of their cardiac specialists. I did, and after some coaxing he agreed to examine Ray free of charge. But the problem was Ray would not agree to go in, and was upset I was causing him stress over all this. Finally he agreed to go in if I and the Chairperson would go with him. So off the three of us went, and the Chairperson and I sat around the Hospital all morning. Finally the doctor came out all irritated, telling me "Look, I was under the impression there was going to be nothing wrong with this kid, that he needed assurance----well there is something wrong and it needs to be addressed. Ray had several more appointments with the doctor. Ray went back on his own, the doctor gave him some medication, and I let it go.

There are countless stories about Ray, like the time he came in and told me not to get mad, but sometimes late at night. he let this dog, some wild dog, stay up in the animal room with him. Ray met the dog on his walks across a wooded area of the campus to get to the University. He began to feed the dog and students who worked in the cafeteria saved scraps for the dog to give to Ray. Then, when real cold weather came Ray started to bring the dog into the building. I asked if the security guards knew he was doing this. He said yes, but they just pretended they didn't see the dog. Nights when Ray was not staying over the guards would get the scraps from the refrigerator for the dog and feed the dog outside the Animal Care Facility door. The dog would lay outside the door the whole night waiting for Ray. In the morning the security guards would let the dog out. I told Ray it was a security matter and not my business. It is difficult to deal with the 'Rays' of the world and abide by all the rules. The rules are not bad, they sometimes just don't fit. 

After several months working for me, I was talking about something with Ray in the office and I felt he was kind of staring at me. "What are you staring at me for, is there something on your mind?" Ray replied, " I was just thinking, I didn't know you could talk to a white person the way we talk. It just seemed different talking to a white person. I can't explain it, but you seem different, like I can talk to you about anything." I told him, "Good, that will make it easier for you to get through life as soon as you feel comfortable talking to all sorts of people." Actually, I should not have been so perplexed. I grew up in town where maybe 25% of the population was black. I never had a black teacher, there was only one black in my whole neighborhood and I don't know that he had any close friends, all the students (as far as I can recall) who were in my 'college prep' classes were white, my church members were all white, etc. So, I suppose at Ray's age I could have said the same thing to a black Professor. I don't recall any real hostility or anything, blacks were just invisible. Until I went out for sports there just was no real contact. Back then the 60's were yet to come. 

Then came graduation time and Ray was all excited about getting his degree. So I suggested to the Chairperson that we throw a party for Ray. She said ok, we could do it in one of the labs. But I resisted, felt we should make a big deal, do something special in a fancy setting. She replied "Reid, I can never predict exactly what you are about to make a big deal about, but fine, you line up this fancy setting and get it paid for, and I will help organize the rest." Well, I thought about it--especially how Ray had more than repaid me for the faith I placed in him not to mess up his responsibilities----and decided to think big, make this 'nobody' from no man's land be treated like royalty. So I went to the John Hancock Building (then the tallest building in Chicago), the top of which had a famous observation deck for the city, an exquisite restaurant, and a special events lounge. I talked to the manager of the facility and explained I wanted to throw a graduation party for Ray in the special events room with it's panoramic view of the city. How much would it cost? He laughed, "Well, a hell of a lot more than you will ever be able to pay, don't be ridiculous". I asked if it was booked every night. There were very few nights when something was not going on there he explained. So, I queried him, "What is wrong with letting this kid have his graduation party there on one of those nights, does the room always have to be used only for the affluent? To up the ante I told him the Mayor of Chicago would be invited, newspaper columnists, etc. Much of life is luck and he just threw up his hands and said "Ok, you can have the room, no charge, but you have to supply any food and all I will provide is an open bar at normal bar prices, not the price in the cocktail lounge." Of course I did invite the Mayor and several newspaper columnists, but they naturally were not expected to show. 

The invitations made it clear that this was a surprise party and no one was to say anything to Ray. And they were to bring something to eat, a pot luck sort of affair. I told Ray that myself and another Professor were going to take him, his girlfriend, and his mother out to dinner to celebrate his graduation. Ray was delighted---except he refused to bring his mother. "Why not I asked?" He never really gave me a good answer, just said he didn't think it would be a good idea. I got the impression that he felt she would be uncomfortable or an embarrassment to him or whatever. For all the attachment he had to his mother, he didn't want her out in public with him, at least not with a professorial crowd. Their relationship was very private. I still laugh at the disgust of one of the more distinguished Professors who cringed at the idea of him carrying up a dish of food to the top of the Hancock Building. Perhaps it was the only time food was brought up to the Special Events Room in that fashion. 

The real tribute to Ray lied in the fact that no other student who worked for me, or any of his friends, or any of the faculty, were in any way jealous of the special treatment given here to him. Everyone eagerly attended, and of course Ray was simply stunned. Another Professor met with Ray and his girlfriend and told them they would meet me at the restaurant. Everything in life just seemed to make Ray wide eyed, even a math problem he could finally figure out. In the elevator I was told he was wide eyed about how far up the elevator was going. When he entered the darkened special events room he rushed to a window and started wowing at the sight of the city. His amazement started everyone laughing, the lights went on and Ray and his girlfriend were simply overwhelmed and bewildered. They tried to make him give a little speech, but he just stood there with tears streaming down his cheeks asking "Is this for me?" So we all felt good, those who didn't tear up felt like it, all of us realizing that probably for the first time in his life a party was set up for him, and that it was the ultimate in elegance. For one night Ray---the nobody----was literally on top of the city, a real somebody. The manager pulled me aside, "I know you pulled a fast one here, but no party up here has ever had such genuine good feelings or filled with such appreciation. Half my staff was in tears.  You got me reprimanded, but I am glad we did this. Just don't ask to do it again."

Like almost all students, once they graduate you lose track of them.  Maybe 10 years later, late one afternoon, Ray walked into my office----drunk. I was stunned---this was not the Ray I knew. Like drunks tend to do, he babbled on about how good I had been to him, about how much he enjoyed working in the Dept, etc. But none of it was anything but a real irritant to me, coming as it was, in a drunken stupor.  So I gave him hell about his drinking and told him if he wanted to chat with me he had to come back sometime when he was sober. Ray was currently teaching math at an inner city high school. The Dept secretary was retiring and a big retirement dinner was being held for her. She had been like a second mother to Ray and so I asked him to come to the dinner. He said he would. He did not. 

Months later Ray appeared at my office door again. Inebriated again too. He told me he thought he was dying, he had gone to the hospital, they had been rude to him, and security had thrown him out. He wanted me to raise hell with them for him. My response was pure disgust, annoyance, disappointment. It all seemed surreal. I told him to come back again when he was sober. I dismissed his claim of dying as nonsense, that his problem was his drinking, and shoed him away. He told me he might try to find that doctor I took him to years ago. 

Not too long after that, maybe a couple of months, I got a call at home telling me that Ray was dead---rushed to the hospital with a heart problem and he died the next morning. Finally I understood the picture, he obviously had not followed through on his heart problem, it finally got caught up with him, and he had come back for help, but got pushed away with disgust. If I go to hell it will be for stuff like this. Ray was not the first or the last person who has come to me for help, depended on me to help, and I failed them. The reasons always varied, were logical enough, but failure is failure and no amount of regret corrects failure. 

I was back East visiting my parents when the funeral occurred. The former Dept Secretary went to the funeral and told me all the persons could not fit in the Church, that there was so much loud wailing she couldn't hear all that was said and the whole thing made her cry. Well, clearly Ray wasn't always drunk and sorry-assed. I thought about the administrators at the University and what they would say (of course administrators come and go and were no longer at the University). They would sneer and say, "Well Reid, your man Ray turned out to be a pathetic drunk. I guess he wasn't so special after all. It was a figment of your imagination. Without you pulling strings for him where did he go? Right down the tube."  I suppose in some sense they are right, but then again when they or I die I doubt the Church will overflow and the wailing drown out the speakers. Perspective is everything. I called Ray's mother when I got back from the East Coast and talked to her. She said yes, she knew exactly who I was, that Ray had had talked about me to her all the time. She seemed a simple plain woman, no hysteria, no anger, no blame, a woman well adjusted to her fate in life. I wondered what would happen to her and felt Ray would want me to keep an eye on her. But again, I just couldn't pull the trigger. Ray had a twin brother who I met but once, and Ray had a wife. Let them watch over the mother. I wouldn't even dare visit the mother, not in that neighborhood, park my car and wander up into some dilapidated building. If Ray was an interesting study, so would be the mother and the twin brother. He stopped by my office one time as I was leaving for class. He looked exactly like Ray, I thought it was Ray and told him I had to get to class, couldn't talk. Now I wish I had chatted with him a bit. I am sure Ray must of told me something about his brother but I can't remember any of the details. 

I need time to evaluate several  aspects of this tale. Decades of observing young people of all sorts from varied backgrounds has given me a lot of input, but the data is tricky to interpret. God's evolutionary process, however we want to define it, works---BUT human understanding is limited. It is easier to trace past footprints than to comprehend where it is all heading, what our individual role is in the process, and how something could ever come from nothing. The latter question is the $64,000 question (remember that TV show?). It is reasonable enough to say God created the process or products, but then where did God come from? Human reasoning demands that the beginning of anything starts with something. Yet something obviously came from nothing, and that is just too far out for current human intelligence. Well, at least mine. 70+ years of  wandering, observing, and pondering---all very humbling, but so much is still elusive, vague, and dimly lit.  

Opportunities in Old Age (The Terminational Years)

Opportunities in Old Age (The Terminational Years)

I suppose most people dread the terminational years (defined here as the years after retirement or after 65 years of age). There are ample things to fear in this post ‘rat race’ portion of our lives. Death is not one of them. Death came with the package of birth and is non negotiable. The fear of what we might be forced to go through during the dying process is a different matter. It probably won’t be too far off when we can all legally exercise our own right to control our own dying process without any government or religious organization dictating how we must die. With modern medical advances, current dying can be a long torturous process with some of our cells kept alive for years and decades, and thus we remain clinically alive. Maybe we don’t really need so many cemeteries any more, just some glass containers where we can view Grandpa’s still remaining functioning cells. I suppose this would cut down on funeral expenses (after twenty years since Grandpa had any coherent thoughts who would still be around to go to any funeral?  The other glass containers would have no way to get to the funeral). 

This musing starts with two premises: we need decent health in our terminational years, and we need be able to comfortably feed and house ourselves.  Maybe personal security could be added here. 

Change is one of the few constants in all our lives. Change, change, change—to the extent if we don’t die from something else, we might die from dizziness. All our lives we either have to change or suffer potential consequences.  Our terminational years are no different. Some of us are determined not to change and often pay the consequences. We may have been running the family for years, and although the children are adults now, we may choose to be a major player in their lives. We will live for them, whether they want us to or not.  And if they want us to be very involved, that is a sad sign. They are still not independent—financially, socially, or lifestyle-wise.  They prefer the comfort of old safe cocoon parental oversight. No one ever seems to become overly happy with that situation.  Not that some elderly grandparents don’t try: they buy their adult kids endless meals, trot over endlessly with gifts for the grandchildren, take the grandchildren and adult children on trips, give/loan them money, and of course, hold out the carrot of an inheritance.  And in the end, most times, the elderly parents feel their kids and grandchildren (once they hit their teens) just don’t really appreciate all the time, money, and effort the elderly parents have expended on the whole scene. And the adult offspring often wonder what life would be like if the the parents weren’t alway hovering about. Most of the time, “distance leads enchantment to the view”, thus making the relationship even more meaningful.

The closeness of parent to child need never change. That is what holidays and special occasion are for, to renew the closeness of yesterdays and reassure that the specialness of the relationship is still intact. Texting multiple times a day sort of eliminates any special relationship and reduces it to drollness. The terminational years are not about still trying to be a parent, or holding on to power over others, at home or anywhere else. The terminational years are not about piling ‘stuff’ higher and higher past  basic needs.   The terminational years are not about leading any causes, no matter how worthy. At best we are followers. The terminational years are not about exercising our manipulative skills to outsmart anyone. The terminational years are not about doing endless things you really don’t want to do. The terminational years are not about putting ourselves in stressful situations or doing endless things just to please others. On the other hand, the terminational years are also not about others being obligated to entertain, amuse, or hover over us as in some sort of ‘death watch’. 

If freedom ever really comes our way, it usually will be in our terminational years. The race of our productive years is over---for better or worse, we have crossed the finish line, and we do not get a second chance to run the race over, starting with our youth. The next generation is in charge now, and that is a really a good and appropriate thing. We are in the grandstands and the world is all theatre now. 

The goal for most of the elderly is to be able, each day, to do that day whatever we have the will and means to do. It is our last chance for a clean slate. Health problems will come soon enough, and our choices for each day become more limited. What any of us will choose to do with ourselves for amusement or enrichment will vary. Lurking around us as a danger, what with all the gadgets available to us, is that we will become the old fashioned couch potato, now more a gadget potato. Not much satisfaction is ever achieved by doing essentially nothing all day but lie around and be bombarded with TV shows, inane telephone chatter or tweeting, and so on. 

Many older people become slaves of their homes, acreage, or adult offspring. Every day becomes filled with repairs, yard work, entertaining, and endless other tasks that once were challenging and motivational, but over time become daily drudgery That happened to me, and I just sold the place and moved into a condo building where every day is basically free for me to do things other than maintenance chores around the house or place. There is little doubt that many parents really do enjoy being very involved grandparents. It is difficult to predict how many find it as much frustrating as rewarding. The stress involved can be measurable, and over time draining and disappointing, especially when the kids become teenagers and dread having doting grandparents. If we like feeling out of it, becoming a hovering grandparent, wedging ourselves into every offspring family decision, will do the trick. 

The healthiest thing mentally for most people in their terminational years is to accept and really understand that those in their productive years need space and time to live their own lives, let them have the opportunity to achieve things on their own—that is, after all, the whole goal of parenting, not to have a second goal of parenting all over again with grandchildren. The best environment for most children is not one in which the whole interaction with others is a ‘family values’, circle the wagons sort of mentality. For most kids to end up doing well in life they need to learn how to relate to diverse others of all sorts. 

However much of the above is true, and much of it may not, let us focus here on how to enjoy our terminational years to the maximum. It probably starts with a clear understanding of our own nature. That is where it starts. Next we need understand that ‘enough is enough’ of just about everything. If we do not actively guard against addictions, which are really compulsive behaviors, we will just end up being a compulsive something or other rather than a contented terminationalist. Since health is required for this period, proper eating and exercise must fit into the equation. Pay attention to calories, saturated fats, trans fats, cholesterol, and fiber for a basic start. Once you attain a healthy weight, cut back on calories as soon as you gain 3 pounds. Never let the body ‘fat thermostat’ get reset or you will have a hard time losing the gained weight. There may be all sorts of nebulous digestive tract motility and digestive quirks, so try to solve them, and first without spending a fortune on anecdotal medicine pushers.  They are all over the place and most could not pass a basic physiology test, let alone treat pathophysiological conditions. Fortunately they rarely hurt anyone, just waste patients time while making money off them. I guess that is ok.  We need jobs for people badly. 

Never miss a chance to walk more.  Walking and more walking is one of the best exercises for older people. Power walks and weight lifting, long runs, etc are not really the best exercises for terminationalists.  And don’t overdo stressing your joints. No need to rush joint replacements.  

There are mental adjustments to be made also. If you finished the race and are in good financial and physical health there is only gratitude to serve as your basic emotional outlook on further life. Be ever grateful for such good luck and then let your ethical nature be directed toward those less fortunate in life. Ethics is essentially a duty, an inherent part of human nature, and is best described by the Golden Rule. Don’t get too wrapped up in yourself or some inherited religion. There is only one way for the least advantaged in life to reach some contentment and that is when others, more fortunate, both individually and collectively, help level the playing field for these people. For many practical reasons it is natural for all of us to spend a great deal of time on our own careers and family.  Name one prophet of any major religion who spent time, as an adult, in any self serving ‘family values’ environment. Once retired we certainly have the time and/or money to help the least fortunate. As a rule a thumb, for every dollar we spend on ourselves past basic needs, we ought to spend an equal dollar (or time) on the least fortunate. With this simple little priority we can at the end of each day have enjoyed, in a selfish way, things we like to do, and feel proud that we helped the least fortunate. Duty done is contentment gained.

Contentment does not arise to any real extent from always being a taker in life, some sort of Donald Trump extraordinaire. It is always best to understand that others count as much as ourselves and act accordingly, and the others here are always the less fortunate, not some sort of genetic cabal. Almost all the conflicts across the globe are precisely because people are too wrapped up in their own selves and their own families, actually believing through some sort of faith based inherited religion that they and their offspring are special to a God they created in their own image. That is pretty self serving and with no basis whatsoever. It is perfectly ok to be selfish in old age as long as others less fortunate receive equal attention via money or time. 

There is a practical aspect to being so independent in old age, and not being dependent on others to amuse us. Many of these others, including spouses, friends, former co-workers, and so on, are going to die along the way unless we die first. If we haven’t learned to amuse ourselves, and care for ourselves then we are likely to be left helpless as these others die. What we will have left is bitterness, loneliness, and boredom. And our offspring, especially these days, are likely to be spread around the country or globe. You can, of course tag along, sitting in a strange and distant corner, interjecting mumble-jumble now and then to prove you are still alive. It is always sad to see some older person dutifully following their offspring around like some sort of ball and chain, to varying degrees out of it, whatever the scene might be. 

Don’t try to be the life of the party, we are not. Don’t try to offer endless suggestions about anything, no one is interested. Don’t try to make things go our way a lot, we will learn just how powerless we really are. Don’t try to look or act young and fashionable, we are not. We can dress young and fashionable but we will achieve only a weird wax-museum-like caricature of silliness. Limit our group appearances to situations where our presence will be valued. That will certainly leave plenty of time to amuse ourselves.  After all, how many times do we need be reminded that we are old? 

Spend time on leisurely nature walks or city neighborhood walks (with appropriate discretion), and you will begin, in the quietude of nature and the bustle of a city neighborhood, to see the forest of life instead of the individual trees. You will gain an appreciation for the vastness of it all, a better appreciation for just how long this evolutionary process has been going on, the amazing diversity, the complexity and interrelationships with which God’s laws (wherever there is a gift there is a gift giver) keep progress going—not on Human Time but on Evolutionary Time. We like to say Time flies, but the reality is that Time stays—WE go. In all this surreal quietude, with the many memories of so many people and experiences that meant so much to us, we can attain a less shallow, more meaningful grasp of the life and times we have lived. There is no need to fade away in loneliness, fear of death, cranky, bitter, endlessly trying to swim back upstream in our lives. It is best to go gently down the stream, cocooned in gratitude that we lived well, long, and found ways to help those less fortunate. All in all, we have no bitch. “A million million spermatozoa, / All of them alive: / Out of their cataclysm but one poor Noah / Dare hope to survive. / And among that billion minus one / Might have chanced to be / Shakespeare, another Newton, a new Donne -/ But the One was Me.” We hit the jackpot a long time ago.

Applicable Quotations:

“It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time.” Samuel Johnson (British Lexicographer)

“No one can walk backward into the future.” Hoseph Hergesheimer (American writer)

“The wise man looks at death with honesty, dignity and calm, recognizing that the tragedy it brings is inherent in the great gift of life.” Corless Lamont (American philosopher)

“A man who is good for anything ought not to calculate the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider whether in doing anything he is doing right or wrong--acting the part of a good man or a bad....for the fear of death is indeed the pretense of wisdom, and not real wisdom, but a pretense of knowing the unknown; and no one knows whether death, which men in their fear apprehend to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good.” Socrates (Greek general, philosopher)

“I wouldn’t live forever,
I wouldn’t if I could;
But I needn’t fret about it.
For I couldn’t if I would.” Unknown

“Man’s life’s a vapor,
And full of woes;
He cuts a caper,
And down he goes.” Unknown

“Once I wasn’t
Then I was
Now I ain’t again” Unknown

“The principles now implanted in thy bosom will grow, and one day reach maturity; and in that maturity thou wilt find thy Heaven or thy Hell.” D. Thomas (American Agricultural writer)

“I have to live with myself, and so
I want to be fit for myself to know;
I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself straight in the eye.” Edgar A. Guest (English born American poet)

“He does not possess wealth; it possesses him.” Benjamin Franklin (American author, printer, politician, scientist)

“Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing: Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness:
So on the oceans of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.” Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (U.S.poet)

“You can’t go back home to your family---
to a young man’s dream of fame and glory
to the country cottage away from strife and conflict
to the father you have lost
to the old forms and systems of things which seemed everlasting but are changing at the time.”
Thomas Wolfe (American novelist)

The way to be happy is to make others so.” Robert G. Ingersoll (Civil War Veteran, political leader and orator)

“God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.” J.M. Barrie (Scottish author and dramatist)

“Bring me all your flowers now
I would rather have a single rose From the garden of a friend
Than have the choicest flowers, When my stay on Earth must end.
I would rather have the kindest words Which may now be said to me,
Than flattered when my heart is still--- And this life has ceased to be.
I would rather have a loving smile From the friends I know are true, 

Than tears shed round my casket,
When this world I’ve bade adieu!
Bring me all your flowers,
Whether pink, or white or red.
I’d rather have one blossom now
Than a truckload when I’m dead.” R. D. Richards (poet)

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” Ralph Waldo Emerson (American essayist and poet)

“About all you can do in life is be who you are. Some people will love your you. Most will love you for what you can do for them,and some won’t like you at all.” Rita Mae Brown (American writer)

“It’s not that I am afraid to die. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” Woody Allen (U.S. film producer and actor)

“Thus that which is the most awful of evils, death, is nothing to us, since when we exist there is no death, and when there is death we do not exist.” Epictetus (Greek philosopher)

“Those who believe strongly that death must come without physician assistance are free to follow that creed, be they doctors or patients. They are not free, however, to force their views, their religious convictions, or their philosophies on all the other mem- bers of democratic society, and to compel those whose values differ with theirs to die painful, protracted, and agonizing deaths.” Justice Stephen Reinhardt. (American judge)

“Resolve to be thyself: and know, that he
Who finds himself, loses his misery.” Matthew Arnold (British poet and critic)

“Sit down before a fact as a little child, be prepared to give up every preconceived notion. Follow humbly wherever and to what- ever abysses nature leads, or you shall learn nothing.” Thomas Henry Huxley (British Biologist, writer)

“Don’t compromise yourself. You’re all you’ve got.” Janis Joplin (American singer)

“Nothing can bring you peace but yourself. Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles.” Ralph Waldo Emerson (American essayist and poet)

“There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots; the other wings.” Hodding Carter (American journalist and author)

“I would as soon leave my son a curse as the almighty dollar.” Andrew Carnegie (Scottish-American Industrialist)

Politics Out of Control

Politics Out of Control

Bernie Sanders, an older interesting politician wrote this:

“Poll after poll shows that the American people are united in their anger and frustration with the status quo. They sense, correctly, that the deck is stacked against them. While millions of people are working longer hours for lower wages, almost all new income is going to the top 1 percent. While people in the middle class pay their fair share of taxes, multi-national corporations avoid their tax responsibility by running abroad or taking advantage of loop-holes. While young people study hard to get a college education, many of them leave school with crippling debts that severely impact their futures.

Over and over again the “pundits” and the media tell us how politically divided the American people are, and how we are drifting further and further apart into red and blue states. Frankly, I don’t believe it. Yes. There are significant divisions on a number of issues, but on many of the most important challenges facing the middle class, progressives, moderates and conservatives are surprisingly united. We should build on that unity, and not allow powerful special interests to divide us.

Despite the media’s insistence that the country is irreparably divided, let me give you just a few examples of where the American people are largely united, not divided.

The overwhelming majority of Americans believe that our democracy is being undermined when billionaires can spend unlimited amounts of money to influence elections. Despite Supreme Court rulings to the contrary, people across the political spectrum understand that buying elections is not "freedom of speech," and that there should be strong limits on campaign spending. 

The overwhelming majority of Americans believe that the middle class of this country is disappearing and that real unemployment is much too high. They very much want the federal government to play a strong role in creating decent paying jobs by rebuilding our crumbling infrastructure (roads, bridges, rail, water systems, waste water plants, airports, etc.) and by making higher education much more affordable.

The overwhelming majority of Americans believe that the growing wealth and income inequality we are seeing poses a serious threat to the future of our country. They are deeply concerned that 95 percent of all new income generated in recent years has gone to the top 1 percent, and that the United States has, by far, the most unequal distribution of wealth and income of any major country. They very much support tax reform which asks the wealthy to start paying their fair share of taxes, and which eliminates huge tax loopholes enabling one out of four corporations to pay nothing in federal income taxes.

The overwhelming majority of Americans believe that the social safety net that has been established in this country over the last 80 years is vital to the well-being of working families, the elderly, the children, the sick and the poor. At a time when more Americans are living in poverty than ever before, they strongly oppose proposed cuts in Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, veterans' benefits and federal aid to education. In fact, they support expanding Social Security benefits.

A strong majority of Americans believe that global warming is real and poses a serious threat to our country and planet. They want the federal government to limit carbon emissions and to move forward aggressively in such areas as energy efficiency and sustainable energy.

Let’s be clear. Elections have real consequences in terms of whether we create decent paying jobs, have pay equity for women, provide health care for all and address the planetary crisis of global warming – among many other issues.

The billionaire class fully understands the importance of politics and governmental decisions. That’s why a handful of them are pouring hundreds of millions of dollars into the current elections. Their goal is simple: they want policies which make the rich even richer at the expense of everyone else. 

We can’t let them get away with that. Let’s stand together. Let’s create a government which works for ALL Americans, and not just the wealthy few.”

My comments:

The above seems logical enough. But puzzling. I always use the term 1-5%ers instead of 1%ers since it is hard to imagine that 95% of all income generated in recent years goes to 1% of our population. Whatever the real figure, it is quite remarkable that the Republicans can control any branch of Congress. Republicans are the primary ones who create the laws which make this possible, and then create the laws which protect this vast wealth from taxation. Why would so many people vote against their own economic interests?  I assume it must be the relatively minor hot-button issues which drives their votes. 

On all the issues above I think the majority of people, asked about these individual issues, would respond as Bernie Sanders says they would. Of course a high percentage of citizens don’t even vote. Bernie Sanders did a good job about the issues he brings up, BUT——there are other questions and issues which he omits that are important issues.  For examples:

Do most people really believe the earth’s human population can safely double again like it has in my lifetime? I assume most everyone would say, “No, that would be bad”. There is, after all, no logic to assume our species is not subject to the same consequences any other species suffers if it overpopulates it’s environment.  Yet what politician ever campaigns to pass responsible reproduction laws?  When is this problem ever mentioned in Presidential Debates?  Is this, in the last analysis, our Achilles heel? 

For the last 50 years, with the most advanced and astounding weapons of mass destruction, we have yet to win any war outside of Grenada and the Balkans. We kill millions in those countries we invade, while they kill a few thousand of us, but we eventually tire of it all, declare some kind of ‘victory’ and withdraw—leaving behind an infrastructure of rubble, and a country controlled by ‘thugs’ and terrorists to their own people. All we ever get is lost wars paid for by going into debt, and crazed terrorists dedicated to killing Americans anywhere they can, in revenge for all the people we killed or made homeless. And yet the Republicans and some Democrats claim a top priority is to build more weapons of mass destruction as our defense. These undeveloped countries are no longer so helpless——they can, through shear numbers and perseverance, terrorize us with increasing success.  So why do we support those politicians who never miss a chance to invade some country and side with certain factions in a civil war?  Now many politicians claim if Obama had armed certain factions in Syria, there would be no terrorists in Iraq today?  Really, when have we ever stopped terrorism by invading a country the last 50 years?  We just make more survivors filled with revenge to make us pay for the millions of deaths and refugees. 

We forget that wars stimulate our economy, not so much that of the average worker, but for the Dick Chenyes’ of our country. These 1%ers can not fill their lust for endless money by taking it from the poor, the poor don’t have any more money to give. And taking more from the middle class just pushes more of them into poverty. So they make their money off of wars fought by borrowing the money. Guess who the money borrowed ends up going to? And who is really paying for all this?  Yep, the next generation. 

If we were to ask people whether a person working at entry level positions, like the food service industry, should have the same buying power as those same workers in the fifties, no doubt most would say, “sure inflation should be taken into account”.  If we were to ask the same people whether senior citizens should get a cost of living increase when applicable, they would say, “yes these people need to be able to buy food, etc”. But before we ask them these two questions, if we ask them whether the minimum wage should be raised to $10, most will say no. If you ask them why, they begin the endless ordeal of watching them turn themselves into a pretzel: If we pay them more employers will not hire them, or be forced to go out of business, and that these were not meant to be well paying jobs, and the cost of hamburgers would go up and hurt everyone, and these are just temporary jobs, and so on it goes. Well, if the buying power of these workers was to match the buying power of workers back in the 50’s, the minimum wage would be $22.00. No one back then thought they were overpaid.  All of us are surprised at this answer. Why do older people need to retain buying power and the youngest workers not? Part of our current recession is because so many people have so little buying power that they don’t buy much of anything. And this hurts everyone. Those states with the highest minimum wages are the richest states in terms of personal income, quality of education, infrastructure care, least crime, and so on. So while the electorate understands the issues if worded properly, many vote to continue the policies which have caused all these problems. 

Why do so many people not vote, and if they do, vote to make matters worse than they are now? It is not just an ‘honest difference of opinion’ at all. Isolating the issues, they give the logically correct answer. Perhaps it is a combination of things: they feel helpless so why bother, they can only see the individual trees, not the forest; they vote with their emotions, not their brains.  They often do care emotionally very much about abortion, gay marriage, less taxes, patriotic pride in any foreign adventures, ‘freedom’, too many immigrants, property taxes, drug users, police over criminals, gun rights, prayers in schools, crime, and so on. These are the issues, upon which, the 1%er’s can control so many votes. Social issues make ripe propaganda issues and can be used to blind voters on all the other issues listed prior to this paragraph. 

There are serious priorities and frivolous priorities. We are all awash in a virtual environment of gadgets. We spend so much time involved with our gadgets that their is little time for anything serious, and if we were to make time, there is so little we can individually do about these serious matters. We are so busy being amused around the clock by gadgets, that there is little time for original thought. Our conversations are at best banal and shallow-witted. In an age of overwhelming scientific advancement we function mostly via faith based notions on serious matters. Our ethics has been twisted into some sort of warped ‘family values’ that has no support from any of the prophets of major religions. So in this sense we have become like pioneers in a gadgetary environment, circling the wagons around ‘family’, vaguely realizing that we have so little salvation from so many problems of huge proportions, bearing down on us from every direction. We are so many now on the planet, but individually so helpless, so technically bright and ethically bankrupt, so busy, busy, busy, and yet so terribly alone and isolated from social humanity, so rich in comforts and yet so unfulfilled emotionally, so living life on the fast track and yet heading nowhere.  Whoa, stop the world we need to get off here.  

Robin Williams

Robin Williams

I am not going to claim I was a big fan of Robin Williams. I didn’t rush to the TV if he was on. I guess he was a bit too energetically zany for me, albeit I did enjoy a few of his films of a more serious nature. Entertainment has improved a lot since I was young—so much so that I have grown somewhat immune to good movies, good political speeches, good orchestras, good plays, and so on. Perhaps this is just an age when ‘enough is enough’ everywhere we turn. My nature walks might just reflect how refreshing it is to just get away and wallow in the solitude of nature, to be alone with one’s thoughts, let one’s mind contemplate what life is, once was, but now become, and will soon cease to be, just like we always knew it would cease to be. 

Robin Williams died, but it did seem so many had so much to say about the man. There must have been something about him that meant more to those whose path he directly crossed, than his performances. Maybe it was the way he died that made it such a big deal. Like if he could have just died from a plain ole heart attack or cancer, etc., it would be less of a big deal. Then again we live in an age where, for example, more American soldiers in Afghanistan died from suicide than from any battle deaths.  What kind of wars have we gotten ourselves into?  Well, not really ourselves, because there is no longer any draft, so not to worry ourselves. Is this good that we ‘use’ mercenaries to fight our current wars and the next generation to pay for them?  Everywhere we turn, as I was saying, it seems enough is enough. I guess Robin Williams had enough of enough, even though he had plenty enough by any normal measure.  

I stumbled on the following poem. Even though I am culturally retarded when it comes to poetry, something about this poem seems to stand out. While it is specifically about Robin Williams, it seems to apply to so many deaths we have grieved over in our past, including pets. When we tell someone our pet has died they cannot feel our grief without it having been their pet. The grief so many of those who knew Robin Williams well, was a grief that those of us who simply saw him perform, could not feel. Pets give us unremitting love, it doesn’t come in spurts depending on the moment, but just is always there, no matter how much of a jerk we might be at the moment. I guess many people felt that kind of love, concern, support, or whatever, from being around Robin Williams. 

I recall a quote from Mario Cuomo: “Men and women rise to the top of their professions after years of struggling.  But despite their apparent success, they are driven nearly mad by a frantic search for diversions, new mates, games, new experiences—anything to fill the diminishing interval between their existence and eternity—the way to serve yourself is to serve others; and that Aristotle was right, before them, when he said the only way to assure yourself happiness is to learn to give happiness.”

Apparently Robin thrived by giving happiness to others—that was his mode of living. With his career in a natural state of decline via aging, his opportunity to maintain this mode was also in decline. Depression is a broad term, and few probably escape it to some degree or another. Why do we have to die? Practically speaking, if we did not, it would be some sort of same old, same old, same old until we all got depressed enough to pull the plug. I guess the goal should be to pull the curtain down at just the right time. No suggestions are being solicited here. 

https://www.yahoo.com/movies/aladdin-genie-voice-actor-performs-tribute-to-robin-95004397367.html

LeBrae

LeBrae

You won’t find LeBrae’s name on google. Not ever. LeBrae’s name probably means little to anyone still alive. In fact LeBrae’s name probably meant very little to anyone when he was alive.  Yet when I recently thought about some of the most impressive people I have known, up from my memery files came LeBrae. 

That is kind of strange, since I worked alongside LeBrae for several summers as part of a Grounds Crew on college summer breaks, and can’t remember if he was married, if he had any kids, exactly how old he was at the time, any hobbies, or simply much of anything about his personal life. He was always the first one to work, the last to leave, didn’t drive or own a car, never got in any arguments with anyone, and I suppose, on paper was the biggest nobody in town, some kind of total loser with fewer THINGS in his possession than most anyone else. I am guessing he rented a place to live but don’t really know that. 

He was an Italian immigrant but have no idea how long he had been in this country. When he worked he never really paused, maybe when someone was going for coffee break he would order an “Orraanch” soda, gulp it down while standing right where he was working and return to work. This was a grounds crew for a public school system that had maybe 7 schools to grounds keep. It was no profit making slave-driving enterprise in which any pause in work could lead to dismissal. It was difficult to get LeBrae to slow down or stop working—neither hot weather, rain, waiting for equipment or any other situation could cause him to stop. He always found something to do if he had no equipment or whatever the weather. 

His conversation was pretty much reduced to ‘Baccala’ towards someone who threw any comments his way. I didn’t know what the word meant until I just now looked it up on Google. It means smelly vagina in Italian. OK, that’s interesting. He appeared to know little English, but in retrospect I am not sure how true that really was since the foreman or anyone else trying to explain the work he needed to do had any problem with him following directions. I don’t recall him ever missing a day. He never complained about anything to anyone. He never appeared real excited about anything or upset about anything.  Others would horse around in various ways and he would never horse around in any way. He wasn’t hostile to others fooling around, just indifferent. 

He was never the subject of practical jokes or ridicule or taunts, or accused of anything wrong, LeBrae just kept working, impeccably and tirelessly, until it was time to go home and you practically had to pry whatever the working tool was, away from him. Everyone else practically ran to get to their car and go home while LeBrae would just slowly put his tools away and then walked the trek to home.I don’t recall anyone ever giving him a ride home. Or pick him up to get to work. I am sure they probably offered but I am just as sure he didn’t want to put up with the bother—the bother to him that is. LeBrae was not about to race around putting his implements away so he could be quickly in anyone’s car to go home and he would not likely risk being late to work by having someone else pick him up. 

Once in a while the crew would get together for a dinner somewhere and party out in the streets into the evening, but I don’t recall LeBrae ever being present. He didn’t care for boorish ‘foolishness’. I wish now I had pried more into his life and background, but then again I probably would have found out little. After the second question he probably would have said “buccala” and turned away. 

Strange, but retirement to me has been the absence of arguing with anyone about anything, entertaining myself for the most part, enjoying a simple daily routine that I find stress free, relaxing, peaceful, simple, and at whatever pace I feel like going. In short, I am becoming more and more like LeBrae except instead of ‘bacala’ I say ‘the hell with it’. It is rather blissful to be no longer a part of the ‘rat race’. Now I kind of realize LeBrae never joined the ‘rat race’. He was at peace with himself, set a low level for ‘enough is enough’, knew what each day would bring, was content with it, and stuck to his routine.  A simpler, more routine life in retirement has given me more contentment and peace, a much less contentious and stressful existence. 

Perhaps LeBrae was just smarter than I. He figured it out early in life, and I believe he lived to a ripe old age—a wise, productive, closed mouth mysterious figure whose secret for a tranquil life he never shared. I wonder what he did evenings and weekends?  Probably grew a nice vegetable garden and ate the healthy fresh produce. Maybe no “orraanch” soda then, but a cold brew of some sort and a weathered old rocking chair to rest his muscles and renew his spirit for the next day. 

It could have been LeBrae who said (but it wasn’t): “I am richer than E. H. Harriman.  I have all the money I want and he hasn’t.” (John Muir (American Naturalist)

“There are many persons of whom it may be said that they have no other possession in the world but their character, and yet they stand as firmly upon it as any crowned king.” Samuel Smiles (Scottish author).

“Voluntary loneliness, isolation from others, is the readiest safeguard against the unhappiness that may arise out of human relations,” Sigmund Freud (Austrian psychologist)

No stress related disorders, personal clashes with others, any remote feeling of "enough is never enough", no competing against others for anything, no meaningless chit-chat, and so on. Maybe he was a genius. 

Philosophical Humility (David Wilson)

Philosophical Humility (David Wilson)

http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/nfl-shutdown-corner/watch-david-wilson-say-a-tearful-and-heartfelt-goodbye-to-the-nfl-232828592.html

Every time we turn on the news we get hammered with some of the most spoiled, arrogant, obnoxious, self serving celebrity brats imaginable. The Biebers, the Kardusians, some young quarterback for the Browns, and many more of whom their names escape me, because I never pay it all much attention. These shallow minded ‘stars’ had everything handed to them in life and end up precisely being why there are more horse’s asses than horses. 

David Wilson also had everything handed to him in life from good parents, good schools, personal support from so many so often so strongly. And yet this individual clearly tried his best to repay the many kindnesses from so many. It is sad his career is abruptly ended, but his ability to use all this help from others to become a better person himself is going to pay this young man rewards that will enable him to lead a contented life. No one can give you contentment, wealthy parents often try to do that for their kids, money can't buy you contentment (ask Donald Trump), personal power cannot, etc. Contentment always comes from within, and David Wilson clearly understands that. 

Well, he gets his one day in the national spotlight, but not the last time to feel good about himself in life. We, however, are stuck with Bieber and the Kardusians (sp), Lady Gadiva (sp) etc. But fair is fair, and they are all stuck with themselves too.