MAY FAVORITE PHOTOS OF MINE – PARIS! 6e AND 5e!

Today, I will treat you to some of my favorite photos that I have taken during the last two weeks of lockdown .  I am going to miss the empty streets without a lot of people and clear skies with birds chirping.  Yesterday, I went into some new streets in 5e and encountered some unpleasant people.  So, the tension is out there.  It is time for all of us to be careful.  Nerves are on edge.  Just sayin…….  Give it a week or two (or more) to calm down.  (Hopefully.) This is all exhausting.  And, during lockdown, I took a break from wine.  Not because of a reason other than I was too cheap to stock up on it and did not want to go to the grocery store.  So, my nerves could use a good glass of wine or two about now.  On Monday, the shops will open, but not the restaurants and cafes.  So, life will be a little different.  (A LOT)    Already, the rudeness is prevalent.  So, all the consideration that I got for a brief moment in time is gone.  (sigh.)  Meanwhile…….  the favorite photos.  You may have seen some of these before.  I think most of them are new. Sorry I cannot identify all of them.  I will try.

My neighborhood florist’s window.  Stanislas Draber, 19 rue Racine – 6e

unnamed-2

The Panteon.     5e up the street from me.

unnamed-3

I bought a bouquet of gorgeous tulips for Easter at Stanislas Draber.  He took a risk selling them to me (on the street).

unnamed-19

I was walking down a back street in 5e (avoiding people) and saw this building.  Frankly, I don’t think a lot of buildings are pretty.  But, this one caught my eye.  I wish I had gotten the top of it with more sky.  But, I like the photo, anyway.  I don’t know what the name of the street is.  For me, it is a “cut-through” .   But it goes by the Sorbonne and will be crowded once the students are back in class.  ???

unnamed

This is Odeon Square near my apartment.  I like photos of the sky and this shot is a “sky” picture.

unnamed-16

This is the University of Paris Philosophy Library of the Sorbonne.  I sometimes sit on the fountain in the area in front of this building and drink my fresh orange juice that I got a Carrefour for my walk.  It probably has another name, but I don’t know what it is.

unnamed-4

This is Church of Saint-Sulpice  I was looking for somewhere to light May candles for my family but everything was closed.

unnamed-12

Jardin of Luxembourg.  Up the street.  Gates are closed and locked.  This shot is from outside the iron gates.

unnamed-1

This is a statue of Auguste Compte, a French philosopher.  It is in the square where I drink my orange juice by a fountain.

unnamed-15

This is a church in 5e.  I just liked the shot.  Closed with a garden behind gates.

unnamed-9

The Seine down the street.  Petit Pont Bridge to the other side.  Paris 5e.

unnamed-10

The Odeon   Closed.  Gorgeous inside.  6e.  Down the street from me.  (sigh)

unnamed-20

It is not that easy to find flowers on my walks.  As I walked down Saint Germain in 6e, I saw these geraniums.

unnamed-18

I just like this shot of the Luxembourg Garden trees.  So, I will close with this one.

unnamed-6

So, you see, I am just walking for an hour, more “wandering” with my camera.  The shots are interesting to me and I enjoy the time spent outside.  I am hoping to go further once the cafes and restaurants open and I can sit and rest, get a coffee, and go to the rest room.  But, for now, I am staying 1 kilometre from home (rules of lockdown).  So, that is just a taste of Paris in May.  Springtime in Paris.  (sigh).  And, I am lucky that my friend is allowing me to rent her 6e Studio apartment for a year.  Stay tuned……

If you will,

Support Jayspeak

Donations

$50.00

Best, Jay

unnamed-11

MEET LILLIAN! – Revised!

I have fleshed out this post and want to reblog it for those who are interested. Thanks. Jay

jjaywmac's avatarJAYSPEAK

MEET LILLIAN. Who?  Why?

Lillian is on my mind this week.   She was my aunt.  My mother’s sister.  I wrote about her over last weekend, but that post was too long, and Lillian “got lost in the shuffle.”  So, now, Lillian has a post of her own!  She matters because she mattered.  A woman before her time.  She never talked about it.  She just DID it.  I learned early in life to “stop talking about it. DO it.”  So, I did.  I have. And, I am.  But I digress……

LILLIAN DOROUGH MORGAN.  (1904 – 1990)

unnamed-1 copy

Lillian was born in 1904.  During those days, girls were raised to get married.  And, if they could not find a man to take care of them, or be a teacher, or be a dutiful secretary, something that was “acceptable for a woman to do, it was difficult.  No woman dared to try to compete…

View original post 2,137 more words

THINK ABOUT IT!!! (Revised Edition)

jjaywmac's avatarJAYSPEAK

I have revised this post because I want to flesh it out some more.  As I said before, this week, I am beginning to think ahead, as I reflect.  From where I am sitting, I have a lot of questions. This one may require another cup of coffee.  Settle in.  The lockdown is still outside my  window in Paris.  SO, if you want/need to go to the beach or the bowling alley, this one is not for you. It is one from my heart and as political as I have gotten to date.  Sorry.  We both knew it was coming.  I just was not sure WHEN. 

Our first reopening (in France) happens on Monday, May 11 – one week from tomorrow.  I was able to buy my first mask at the Pharmacie yesterday.  (long story).   What is next?  I don’t know.  “I hesitate to speculate.” 

I am discouraged to…

View original post 2,833 more words

MEET LILLIAN! – Revised!

MEET LILLIAN. Who?  Why?

Lillian is on my mind this week.   She was my aunt.  My mother’s sister.  I wrote about her over last weekend, but that post was too long, and Lillian “got lost in the shuffle.”  So, now, Lillian has a post of her own!  She matters because she mattered.  A woman before her time.  She never talked about it.  She just DID it.  I learned early in life to “stop talking about it. DO it.”  So, I did.  I have. And, I am.  But I digress……

LILLIAN DOROUGH MORGAN.  (1904 – 1990)

unnamed-1 copy

Lillian was born in 1904.  During those days, girls were raised to get married.  And, if they could not find a man to take care of them, or be a teacher, or be a dutiful secretary, something that was “acceptable for a woman to do, it was difficult.  No woman dared to try to compete in a man’s world.  Lillian did.  She went against the grain and and got work in a man’s world.  I am not sure how she made her choices.  She just did it – in a quiet, unobtrusive way.

I never realized all that she accomplished before. Let’s take a moment to go back in time to the early 1900’s.  Think of what was going in the world and in society in the USA during those years.  As I said before, in so many words, women were “chattel.” (a personal possession). Men ruled the Universe. And, during her lifetime, there were pandemics, two World Wars, the Great Depression, and more.  NOTE:  If you don’t value history and don’t care about what happened before your time, now is your time to stop reading this post.

Lillian was my mother’s younger sister and her best friend. My mother’s name was Anna Louise (called “Anna Lou”) (1902-2001). They were two of the five children of LILLIE WESTMORELAND (1880-1992) and TRAVIS GLENN DOROUGH (1875-1940).   (The other three girls were Ruth, Edna (died from peritonitis in 1929), and Rose). (I have a picture of Mother somewhere like this one. This is Lillian.)

unnamed-2

When Lillian and Anna Lou were very young, 1918 (ages 14 and 16), there was a bad pandemic. People were getting sick and dying.  (Like today.)  The world was frantically trying to find a vaccine.  (Like today.) The 1918 influenza pandemic was caused by an H1N1 virus with genes of avian origin (similar to today’s “bat”). Although there is not universal consensus regarding where the virus originated (unlike today), it spread worldwide during 1918-1919 and lasted for approximately two years.

In the United States, it was first identified in military personnel in spring 1918. It is estimated that about 500 million people or one-third of the world’s population became infected with this virus. The number of deaths was estimated to be at least 50 million worldwide with about 675,000 ( In the current pandemic, the U.S. is currently registering 76,000 deaths, as of May 7, 2020, and approximately 50 million worldwide). Mortality was high in people younger than 5 years old (unlike today), 20-40 years old (unlike today), and 65 years and older (like today – ME and most of my friends!!).

The high mortality in healthy people, including those in the 20-40 year age group, was a unique feature of the 1918 pandemic with no vaccine to protect against influenza infection and no antibiotics to treat secondary bacterial infections that can be associated with influenza infections.  Control efforts worldwide were limited to isolation, quarantine, good personal hygiene, use of disinfectants, and limitations of public gatherings, which were applied unevenly.  (Sound familiar????) So, Lillie, Glenn, and the girls stayed home and tried not to get sick!! (Sound familiar?)  And, to you healthy young people who want to go to the beaches and get a tattoo, “buyer beware”!  Germ warfare is on your home turf, turning neighbor against neighbor.  (Sound familiar?)  Read about World War II in Germany and France and Italy!!

So, all of Lillie’s girls were teenagers in 1918, except for Rose.  Susceptible.  And, Lillie and Glenn were 38 and 43.  Susceptible.  It lasted for TWO YEARS.  (Today, we are at 3-5 months, sorta, with a long time to go).  Can you imagine how scared they must have been?  Without radio, television, or social media to give them information. Newspapers, word of mouth.  Amidst that pandemic, Mother and Lillian grew up, went to college, and taught school.  I doubt they wanted to go to the beach or get a tattoo, or bowl or go to a music concert.  I DOUBT THEY WERE TOLD TO DRINK BLEACH!!!!

By 1920, the family had moved to Athens, GA.  And, Anna Lou and Lillian were at Maryville College.  I don’t know about the other girls.  In Athens, the girls all attended a private high school – the Lucy Cobb Institute in Athens, but they did not graduate from there because of financial considerations and moved back to their hometown of Royston, Georgia, eventually moving to Toccoa, GA.

Anna Lou-classmates-lillian 1920

(In this photo above, Lillian is #1 and Mother is #3).  As I said, Anna Lou and Lillian both attended and graduated from Maryville College (co-ed) in Maryville, TN, and Lillian graduated in 1927 with a B.A. degree.  She was a member and officer of Theta Epsilon, a literary society for female students.  She played on the “Girls Basketball Squad” and lettered during her senior year in college.  (She was a good athlete.) After college, Lillian moved to La Follette, TN where she taught high school.

Before Lillian got married, she participated with Mother and my aunt on my father’s side of the family and another woman I don’t know in a Terripin Derby staged in the Gainesville City Park, as part of the WWI centennial and the American Legion, part of “Georgia Images.”

Lillian and others - turtle race

At some point, she met and married a salesman – Ralph Morgan.  (Remind you of Linda in “Death of a Salesman”, written in 1948). She worked while she was married – worked as a “project” supervisor in government work in the Atlanta area.  The family gossip was that Ralph Morgan was a “compulsive liar.”

unnamed

At a time when women did NOT divorce, no matter what, and stayed home, no matter what, Lillian was working for the government, and, by 1944, Lillian and Ralph were divorced.  WOW. I don’t know the details.  In those days, people did not talk about “family matters).

On Nov. 9, 1944 she enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps for the duration of the war, plus 6 months. I was informed by my cousin Edna that her brother Preston (my first cousins, children of Ruth) was in the War as a pilot. And, Lillian wanted to show her support for her nephew Preston by joining up.

unnamed-5

 The war was over September 2, 1945.  (On the enlistment document her marital status is “divorced,” and it says she has dependents.  Since she never had any children, the dependents probably are her mother Lillie and possibly her youngest sister, Rose, and Rose’s young daughter Joan.  (In 1944, Rose was a widow with a teenage daughter.)

(What I know about Women and World War II:  The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. Desperate for personnel, the Army created the Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAACS) in 1942, but the idea of women in the army was too new for many Americans to stomach. People turned against the women who were taking desk jobs and thus seemed to be freeing up people’s sons and husbands to be killed on the battlefields.   Rumors spread that WAACs were simply man-crazy; they were “khaki-wacky” and prone to getting pregnant. Recruiting fell off, but with a European invasion on the horizon, the country needed women in uniform more than ever. Army leaders recognized that they needed more WAACs than they could get, and also that the army could not use women in dangerous locations unless they received regular army benefits and protection in case they were captured.  So, in 1943, Congress created the Women’s Army Corps, and Lillian joined upon November 9, 1944. She was 40.)  Lillian’s decision of November 9, 1944, along with a similar decision by sixteen million other anonymous Americans– including the 350,000 other American women who also joined one of the other service branches—helped to defeat fascism. That decision that Lillian made to help America defend American democracy, still echoes amidst all of the existing chaos.

In 1949, Lillian’s name appears on a departing passenger list on the ship Queen of Bermuda, leaving from New York and going to Bermuda.  I don’t know anything or remember anything about any of this.  In 1949, I was 12.

 

My niece Debby remembers that Lillian obtained a master’s degree (in psychiatry, I think) at some point, and she worked for many years as a psychiatric social worker for the Veterans Administration. I remember that she also worked at the Federal Penitentiary – as a psychiatric social worker) for years.

She took care of Lillie for many, many years and was active in the Altrusa Club in Atlanta.  She loved genealogy and gardening.  I have her trowel.

In later life, Lillian and Lillie were quite entrepreneurial.  They had to support each other, and they also help out other members of the family who needed help (when they could).  And, I know that Mother helped them (when she could).  They lived in a large house on Peachtree Circle in Atlanta, GA and rented out an apartment in the basement and all rooms upstairs.  And, they also rented out a two-story concrete block building at the back of the property in which there were at least two apartments.

Lillian was frugal.  She saved her money.  And she was very “business-like”.  She really helped me and my sister Patricia (with private loans) when we needed help. She charged us interest, but it was low and fair.  We always paid her back.  She died of cancer before Lillie.  So Lillie had to be moved to a rest home where she died two years later.  Two amazing women.

She and Mother remained good friends throughout. All of the family were full of love and made all of us grandkids and great grandkids feel loved.  That was because they really loved all of us.  No “just being nice”.  How fortunate we all were.

unnamed-1Mama Dorough & LillianAS A WRAP, I am sorry that I did not value Lillian during her lifetime.   I didn’t.  I thought she was “bossy”.  I did not like her influence on Mother.  I thought Mother was “weak”, and I did not like her.  I was into myself, what I though, what I wanted, my ambitions, my dreams.  I liked Daddy.  It was ALL about him.  I wanted to be like him.  How little about our parents that we really know.  How little about Lillian and Lillie and Anna Lou and Jesse that I really knew or know.  And, I KNOW that my children do not know much about Janet and less about Darrell (their father).  C’est la vie.  “Oh, earth, you’re too wonderful for ‘anybody to realize you!”

“Cat’s In The Cradle”
My child arrived just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talkin’ ‘fore I knew it, and as he grew
He’d say “I’m gonna be like you, Dad
You know I’m gonna be like you”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home, Dad
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then

My son turned ten just the other day
He said, “Thanks for the ball, Dad, come on let’s play
Can you teach me to throw”, I said “Not today
I got a lot to do”, he said, “That’s ok”
And he walked away but his smile never dimmed
And said, “I’m gonna be like him, yeah
You know I’m gonna be like him”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home, Dad
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then
You know we’ll have a good time then

Well, he came from college just the other day
So much like a man I just had to say
“Son, I’m proud of you, can you sit for a while”
He shook his head and said with a smile
“What I’d really like, Dad, is to borrow the car keys
See you later, can I have them please”

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man on the moon
When you comin’ home son
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, Dad
You know we’ll have a good time then

I’ve long since retired, my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day
I said, “I’d like to see you if you don’t mind”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I can find the time
You see my new job’s a hassle and the kids have the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad
It’s been sure nice talking to you”

And as I hung up the phone it occurred to me
He’d grown up just like me
My boy was just like me

And the cat’s in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
When you comin’ home son
I don’t know when, but we’ll get together then, Dad
We’re gonna have a good time then.

–   Songwriters – Sandy and Harry Chapin

Best, Jay

Please help.  Thanks in advance.

 

Support Jayspeak

Donations

$50.00

109+

 

THINK ABOUT IT!!! (Revised Edition)

I have revised this post because I want to flesh it out some more.  As I said before, this week, I am beginning to think ahead, as I reflect.  From where I am sitting, I have a lot of questions. This one may require another cup of coffee.  Settle in.  The lockdown is still outside my  window in Paris.  SO, if you want/need to go to the beach or the bowling alley, this one is not for you. It is one from my heart and as political as I have gotten to date.  Sorry.  We both knew it was coming.  I just was not sure WHEN. 

Our first reopening (in France) happens on Monday, May 11 – one week from tomorrow.  I was able to buy my first mask at the Pharmacie yesterday.  (long story).   What is next?  I don’t know.  “I hesitate to speculate.” 

I am discouraged to see and hear and read about what is happening in my home country. – the USA.  It is easier (and feels safer, for now) to see what is happening from over here in Paris.  I am subject to the beat of another drummer, here in France.  AND, I am outside looking in re: the USA   As such, I hear international commentary as well as commentary in the USA. First of all, it is obvious that EVERYONE wants someone to blame. Social media is the worst.

“You may make mistakes, but you are not a failure until you start blaming someone else.”        – John Wooden

Even if it were possible to find the source actually responsible for this pandemic, it would not eliminate the pandemic.  That is factual data, not “fake news” (everyone’s go-to target).  Not everything is fake.  A “fake” faker.  A lot of it can be verified.  Like what?? 

Antietam, bloodiest day of Civil War: 2100 Americans dead; 1918 Pandemic: 675,000 Americans dead; Battle of the Bulge, the bloodiest single battle the US fought in WWII: 19,000 Americans dead; Vietnam War: 58,000 Americans dead; September 11: 2,977 Americans dead.

Coronavirus Pandemic on May 1, 2020:  65,000 Americans dead.

When I watch the news each night, I am amazed that in France and in the USA (plus, the world, in general) , I hear warnings about a  “second wave” that may peak in the fall during the flu season. In France, we are just getting better from the first wave.  In the USA, the first wave is still peaking.   A lot of people are dying but no one knows how many because most states are not counting.  They have NOT successfully lived through the worst part of the pandemic.  On the contrary, states are reopening because of the economy.   Not because anyone is dying.  Not important.  WHAT????????

In fact, all of these deaths are helping the economy.   WHAT??????   A member of a planning commission from the San Francisco area (I have been informed by an attorney colleague that the member of the planning commission is not from San Francisco city of county.  He is a planning commissioner in the small city of Antioch, an East Bay city in Contra Costa County, north of Oakland.)  and he took to Facebook to suggest we should just let coronavirus take its course. Lots of people would die, he wrote, primarily old and sick people, but that would take the pressure off Social Security and lower health care costs. There would be more jobs and housing available. And as for homeless people, when they died it would “fix what is a significant burden on our society….” WHAT????????   African Americans and Native Americans are badly susceptible to Covid-19.  Some groups are celebrating these deaths, and calling for their supporters to infect minorities with the virus. WHAT???????   Germ Warfare?????   Americans killing Americans?   Is America doing what Germany did?  1/3 of Americans are killing 1/3 of Americans while 1/3 of Americans watch?  Have we learned NOTHING from history?   WHAT??????????????

Many people I know are demanding society to open up again even though it will disproportionately kill some Americans at higher rates than others. Do people now believe that some people matter more than others?  Do older Americans (ME!!), Black Americans, Brown Americans, sick Americans, all matter less than healthy white Americans?  Today, they do, according to the narrative I am hearing and reading and observing.   I am a potential sacrifice.  Any one of us is a potential sacrifice if we disagree with what “the leader” says – whoever he/she is. 

Otherwise, it is tyranny. “Quarantine is when you restrict the movement of sick people; Tyranny is when you restrict the movement of healthy people”.    WHAT?????   Hello!!!  DO you know anything about tyranny – “a state under cruel and oppressive government?  Is it cruel and oppressive not to open beaches, not to be able to get your hair done, not to be able to get your nails done, not be able to bowl or get a tattoo, or not be able to go back to work?  READ HISTORY!!!  

Do people know anything about history?  Or care?  Life will teach us all.  I don’t claim to know it all, but it is difficult to watch the carnage caused by stupidity and selfishness.  “Rights” and freedoms” don’t exist unless there is a Constitution.   

People want state governors to bend to political pressure and State Governors who don’t bend to political pressure are wrong for trying to save lives.  The ECONOMY is more important!!!!  What?????   People’s lives are not important????  Well, if you think people’s lives are not important, then you must be a healthy, white American and NOT a potential sacrifice. 

OK.  You think people’s lives are not worth the economy because you are healthy, white, American, and not a potential  sacrifice, and you are willing to take the risk because you think you are in good shape.  Well, congratulations!!  You are well-positioned.  As luck would have it, Trump is the “Vector-in -Chief”.  AND, if you want to kill yourself (because of stupidity), there are plenty of opportunities to do so. Indeed, in responding to the COVID-19 pandemic and the question of when and how the nation’s economy should be reopened, the USA seems to have tapped the U.S. Strategic Stupid Reserve. Read history books about pandemics and tyrannical governments.  See what happened.  Does what happened before your lifetime not matter?????  

I read an excellent article this morning that started out with some history. “On July 4, 1775, just his second day serving as commander-in-chief of the American revolutionary forces, George Washington issued strict orders to prevent the spread of infection among his soldiers: “No person is to be allowed to go to Fresh-water pond a fishing or any other occasion as there may be a danger of introducing the small pox into the army.” As he wrote later that month to the president of the Continental Congress, John Hancock, he was exercising “the utmost Vigilance against this most dangerous Enemy.”   What was happening 1775 that prompted George Washington and John Hancock to say this.  Do you know? 

Frankly, I don’t think my opinions will cause much change in my friends and family and colleagues and acquaintances.  And, most of the time, I keep my opinions to myself when I am out and about.  But, as I said before, I am angry and it is painful to watch the carnage that is and will be because of bad decisions and short-sightedness. 

Is there anything I can do about it?  Maybe.  I am looking for ways to serve in some capacity.  I am looking for ways.  I don’t have answers at this time. I think that (other than a Jayspeak “rant”) talking and complaining and accusing and fighting is not something I can do.  I am doing what I can to stay alive.  I am obviously dispensable. I am pretty good at blaming.  Haha.  Aren’t we all!!   The problem is I am an action-prone Pollyanna. 

I follow a writer – Heather Cox Richardson – and enjoy her daily posts from which I learn a lot while helping me to make sense of what I see and hear in the news.  I find her to have an objective viewpoint and want to share selections from her posts from yesterday and today.  I have cherry-picked what I want to include here.  I give up trying to persuade family members and good friends to think the way I do.   It is not going to happen.  But, I want to clarify my own thinking so that I enjoy whatever I can during these turbulent times.

Jeff Kowalsky’s photograph of the “American Patriot Rally” at the Michigan statehouse on April 30 shows a large, bearded man, leaning forward, mouth open, screaming. Positioned between two police officers who are staring blankly ahead above their masks, he is focused on something they are preventing him from reaching: the legislature. His fury is palpable.   The idea that such a man is an “American Patriot” is the perverted outcome of a generations of political rhetoric that has celebrated a cartoon version of “individualism.” That rhetoric has served a purpose: to convince voters that an active government that regulates business, provides a basic social safety net, and promotes infrastructure—things most Americans actually like—is socialism.

Americans embraced an active government in the 1930s and 1940s to combat the Depression and fight World War Two, and by 1945, that government was hugely popular among members of both parties, but not with the businessmen who resented government interference in their industries. To get voters to turn against a system they liked, in the 1950s, leaders eager to destroy business regulation linked their mission to racism.

After the Supreme Court, headed by former Republican Governor of California Earl Warren, unanimously ruled that school segregation was unconstitutional, reactionaries determined to undercut the New Deal government told voters that this is what they had warned about all along: an activist state would redistribute white people’s money to black people through taxes, levied to do things like provide schools, or the troops necessary to protect the black youngsters trying to enroll in them.

That rhetoric resonated with certain white Americans because it echoed that of Reconstruction, when Democrats opposed to black rights insisted that Republican policies to level the playing field between formerly enslaved people and their white former owners were simply a redistribution of wealth. Money for roads and schools and hospitals that would now be accessible to black Americans would have to be paid for by tax levies. Since most property owners in the immediate aftermath of the Civil War were white, this meant a transfer of wealth from hardworking white taxpayers to lazy African Americans. As one reporter put it: socialism had come to South Carolina.

In contrast to the East, with this crushing system, stood the postwar West, where Democrats admired the cowboy. The actual work of a western cowboy in the short period of the heyday of cattle ranging from 1866 to 1886 was dangerous, low-paid, and dirty; the industry depended heavily on government supported-railroads and military support; and a third of the cowboys were men of color. But people eager to criticize the Republicans’ social welfare policies insisted that the cowboy was the true American individualist. Almost always white in this myth, he wanted nothing from government but to work hard as he tamed the land and the “savages” on it, provide for the wife and children he someday hoped to have, and be left alone. The image of the cowboy became such a dominant myth during Reconstruction that it turned Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show into the nation’s first mass entertainment spectacle.

It was no wonder then, that in the 1950s and 1960s, those eager to destroy an active government tapped into the image of the American cowboy as their symbol. Gunsmoke debuted on the new-fangled television in 1955, and by 1959, there were 30 prime time Westerns on TV. These westerns portrayed the mythical cowboy much as he had been after the Civil War: an independent white man fighting the “savages” of the plains to provide for his eventual family. A man who wanted nothing of government but to be left alone.

Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater, with his square jaw and white Stetson, tapped into this mythology as the Republican presidential candidate in 1964. He assured white southerners that the adjustment of race relations was an unlawful assumption of power by the federal government. So, too, was business regulation. Goldwater lost the election, but turned five deep South states from the Democratic Party to the Republican Party, a pattern Ronald Reagan capitalized on in 1980. Swapping his usual English riding outfit for jeans and a western saddle, Reagan personified the mythological American cowboy. He assured Americans that “Government is not the solution to our problem, government is the problem,” then began the process of dismantling the New Deal state, slashing taxes and programs to restore to glory the American individualist.

Reagan’s election saw the first gender gap in American voting, as women hesitated to sign on to a program that was working against their ability to provide for their families. Lots of men weren’t so sure they wanted to slash workers’ protections and government regulation of business, either. So those eager to reinforce the image of the American individualist against a socialist government upped their game. In 1984, we got Red Dawn, the bloodiest movie made up to that point, featuring high school boys in the West standing against an invasion of communists after the town government sells everyone out.

In 1992, the idea of a western individualist standing against an intrusive government got a real demonstration when government forces tried to arrest a former factory worker, Randy Weaver, who had failed to show up for a trial on a firearms charge, at Ruby Ridge, Idaho. An 11-day siege killed Weaver’s wife, fourteen-year-old son, and a deputy marshal. Far-right activists and neo-Nazis swarmed to Ruby Ridge to stop what they saw as the overreach of government as it attacked a man protecting his family.  The next year, government officers stormed the compound of a religious cult whose former members reported that their leader, David Koresh, was stockpiling weapons. A 51-day siege ended on April 19, 1993, in a gun battle and a fire that killed 76 people. Talk radio host Rush Limbaugh told his listeners that the government had invaded Waco to “murder” a citizen. The modern militia movement to protect individuals from government tyranny took off.

Now, having sown the wind, we are reaping the whirlwind. Anti-government cowboys are protesting the tyranny of government measures designed to protect citizens from dying. The right of governors and legislatures to protect health is well-established, of course, but that doesn’t matter to men steeped in the rhetoric of the past generation.  This now-famous image of the screaming “American Patriot” is a portrait of the failure of the individualist image. This is a man who punches down, not up, and who wants to have the power to decide whether his neighbors live or die. He is a bully and a coward. You know who’s brave? The doctors and nurses who get up every morning and go to their jobs. The bus drivers who have continued to work without either hazard pay or sufficient protection, at least 94 of whom we have lost to Covid-19. The janitors and housekeeping staff who combat the virus all day, every day. The meat cutters and fishermen, shippers, drivers and store clerks who are keeping us alive, some only because it is the only way they can feed their children, which makes it all the braver. The Navy sailors trying to contain the virus so they can complete their mission. The teachers who stay upbeat for the students they terribly miss. The parents who are so very tired as they try to work and teach and parent and shop, but who get up every morning and do it again. And, yes, the political leaders trying to legislate to protect us as a handful of screaming anti-government activists terrorize them… and the photographers who record it.  These true American Patriots– not a screaming bully whose “rights” require others to die– are the very good people Abraham Lincoln meant when he called for a government “of the people, by the people, for the people.”

LIncoln Statute

As a wrap, I was born in 1937.  My kids were born in the 1960’s. This narrative chronicles the times during which I lived. NOT MY KIDS.  I held hands with my boyfriend, watching Roy Rodgers and Gene Autry in westerns at the Ritz Theatre in Gainesville, Georgia.  Everyone I knew was a “Democrat”.  “Republican” was a dirty word.  I later acted in those westerns – Bonanza, Gunsmoke, and Centennial.  I was in school and a young actress and an attorney (fighting bullies) during all of those elections and presidents.  After I moved west, I voted for the person I liked – whatever party.   My children’s father was involved and possibly sacrificed for what he knew during Reagan years.  I remember Ruby Ridge and Waco.  This is up close and personal to me.  I will NEVER understand why young people think their “freedoms” come to them “by right”.  Don’t they still teach the Constitution in schools anymore?

I will close with some of Heather’s thoughts from yesterday for you to think about (if you are willing) and are still reading this post.  We are creating today’s history.  Will it be re-written?  Do we care?  Did the Romans care?  Did the Greeks?  Is the history we read accurate?  Did George Washington really say that? Is this really a “pandemic”?  Is it a hoax?  Is it a conspiracy?  We may never know.  Truth?   What is actually true?  Is what we see with our eyes and hear with our ears really true?  Is it what our leaders say is true? Is this classic gaslighting?  Do you know what that is?

“Where are the tax returns Trump promised to release? Where are the investigations of any of the literally dozens of accusations of rape and sexual assault made against Trump? Where is John Bolton’s book? Why is everyone who worked for Trump bound to secrecy? And key: where are the medical supplies the federal government has seized? Why is the use of Tara Reade’s accusation to controlling the political narrative?  Why is Biden to jumping through hoops and on the defensive?”

unnamed-2

Sorry for this insert, but, Hey, I can use/need the help.  

Support Jayspeak

Donations

$50.00

Best, Jay

 

unnamed

THE NEW NORMAL

On my mind this Sunday morning, as I sit in my Studio in the heart of Paris, I am reflecting and rambling (and defrosting the refrigerator at the same time haha).

Take a look at the photograph featured above.  I have used my very favorite shot as the “featured image photograph”.   What do you see?   I see  (in the foreground) a large garbage container, the Seine River, the reflection of church and sky in the river, a couple of trees, a cloud-filled light and dark sky, some sun, silver linings, and Notre Dame Cathedral, as it now exists.  Did I miss anything?    This is Paris 2020.  A gorgeous shot!!!   My shot.  And, I think this photograph represents the NOW – April 26, 2020. 

This is the beginning of the new normal.  We are living during the time of the Pandemic-2020. 

This morning, I read a commentary that I liked very much.  It said that “history repeats itself because no-one learns from it.”  I don’t agree.  I think that a lot of people choose to remain self-centered at the cost of the community.  And, dub this “socialism”.  Ugh.  In other words, I don’t agree that no-one learns from it.  I think there will always be people who want to remain ignorant “lest they be altered by education”. 

I will admit that people can lack education and still be intelligent.   However, intelligence by itself doesn’t cut it. A person also must have smarts to manage the intelligence – a process that ends at time of death.  Not before.  AND, my hope is that there are more intelligent people with “smarts” (who may or may not be educated) who hope to make a better world for our children.  The world is changing, but it is up to us to decide how and for whom we make those decisions. That said, in my photographs, I try to capture our changing NOW world.  The photograph NOTRE DAME (see below) – THAT WAS  A “THEN” PHOTO (2015 – with Steve)

Notre Dame THEN

NOTRE DAME NOW.  Five years later.   Look at the picture again.  What have I missed?  I think that – intuitively – this photo says it all.  I don’t know where I was standing in 2015.  Down the street.  I will find it.  Just sayin……

Favorite1

In my  NOW world photo, I have garbage, beautiful waters, lovely trees, clouds, skies, sun, silver linings.  And, I live in an all-inclusive world – Paris.  Yes, immigration is a problem.  Yes, there will always be immigrants. Yes, it is not easy. Yes, I am willing to compromise conveniences.  Yes, I want a better world for my children and grandchildren.  So, none of us knows what “the new normal” will be.  In other words, we KNOW that we don’t KNOW.  No one knows.  It has yet to be created.  Fingers crossed.

Now for some more of my NOW favorite photographs from my camera ((as you can see, I like to see the sky in my photographs.  It adds to the mood of the piece (for me)).

Favorite2Favorite3Favorite4Favorite5

Favorite

unnamed-12

unnamed

unnamed

I am writing more posts because I am in lockdown and writing more.  Period  Here, I have a good forum.  Sorta selective.  Life has good changes …  so far.  Haha.   Just sayin……. Stay tuned…….

Best, Jay  (I am posting a photo that makes me feel good – with light hair and makeup!!  This is one I like!

Oh, by the way,

Support Jayspeak

Donations

$50.00

 

JayM2_1796

ON MY MIND THIS MORNING……

This morning I woke up upset, after hearing the news. I know better than to read news before bed.  (sigh)  I am writing this at this moment because I want to……  And, I have some pictures to post……       So what is going on?   (This post is not intended as a “feel good” post.   I apologize in advance to those who are offended.  …..whatever…..)  I was reminded last night of something that happened when I was much younger that I will never forget (forgive me while I go back into my past – which I seem to do a lot of these days. This is not a memory that I am very proud of.) 

As a lot of you know, I was into metaphysics for many years.  I went regularly to astrologers and psychics.  (I know, I know.  No comment.)  Anyway, one of the astrologers that I went to regularly was a woman who lived in Burbank.  Her name was Tish LeRoy (I think. It was a long time ago.)  I also went to a psychic who was good friends with Susan Strasberg (daughter of Lee).  And, all of them were very interested in Jim Jones.  As a result, I went with them, wanting to be included with all of these “celebrities” and “all-knowing” people, to hear him speak at some place (a church of some sort) in downtown Los Angeles. We sat in the balcony and watched as Jim Jones “healed” people downstairs.  (That was the day of Oral Roberts.  Ugh.) 

I must say that Jim Jones had the ability to convince people that he was really healing people.  And, they were doing what he said and suggested.  I was not convinced or otherwise.  I was going along with the crowd to be included.  At some point, I smelled foul and stopped going with the group to events.  I still wanted to be included, but, for some reason, I stopped going.  At that point, I was not thinking “cult” or “followers”. I only questioned the healing, the fake charades of crowd-pleasing and the gullibility of my new “friends”.  I did not believe ANY of it.  And, I wondered why they did.   Did they know something that I did not know? 

At some point, I knew that Tish and her daughters were moving to somewhere in Northern California outside of San Francisco to be near Jim Jones. What????  Why????  My concern was that I would need to find another good astrologer (for a couple of times a year). 

Then, one day I was sitting at home, on the sofa, reading the newspaper. I was shocked to read about Jonestown, the People’s Church, Kool Aid, and mass suicide of over 900.  I read the list of names and saw the names of Tish LeRoy and her two children.  I sat in disbelief.  It was in November 1978.  It really upset me that I had attended his Los Angeles meetings. I felt dirty.  Ashamed. And, gullible.  I did not want my family to know.  Ever.  And, for the record, this is the first time I have let myself think about it for a long time. (This is not a memory I am proud of.)

Last night, hearing the words of Donald Trump about drinking disinfectant to help the virus, I immediately thought of Jim Jones and the Kool Aid – on a grander scale???? And I knew there would be a lot of people like Tish LeRoy, willing to follow his advice or “suggestion”.    I often think of Tish’s two children.  Blind trust. Trusting their mother. I thought of my children.  And the responsibility of trust.  Truth goes out the window.  And, on my mind this morning are words that I read during the middle of the night, “You cannot escape the crazy in the White House.”  “A deep state is being created. ” “There is no transparency.”  Oh, dear me.  Thus, much worry during the night….  Plus, an upset wake-up.  

So, this morning, I got dressed and walked out the door.  That was a start.   These are photos that I am posting because I want to – in no particular order.  And, a meme or two that I want to include.  So, if you have stayed with me this far, thank you.  I did not feel like doing any of it.  But, I made myself do it anyway, and I feel better.  I care.  

unnamed

unnamed-4

unnamed-7 copyunnamed-11 copyunnamed-9 copyunnamed-4 copyunnamed-1unnamed-12unnamed-17unnamed-5 copyunnamed-2unnamed-14unnamed-6unnamed-1 copyunnamed-8

unnamed-14 copyunnamed-18

As you can see, I bought myself some yellow tulips (at the grocery store) and two plants that I have named “Felicia” and “John”, for no good reason.  (I read somewhere that a good thing to do is to buy living plants and give them a name….) Haha.  Just go with it……

Best, Jay   …. whatever……. 

Janet - posing……

 

 

 

 

“THAT WAS THEN; THIS IS NOW”

This is what is on my mind this morning.  Something happened this week that made me very angry.  And, hurt.  So, when I woke up, I wrote down some words that kept running through my mind – THAT WAS THEN. THIS IS NOW.  The “then” I once knew –  no longer exists.  This is NOW.  The new normal? I am hoping that this concept  may be something for your consideration in these times of confinement and attempts at moving on to whatever is next.  

Is there such a thing as “normal”?   Things feel different.  AND, there is no going back.  So, I went for a long walk and took lots of pictures.  Therapy.  Stopped at Paul’s and got a coffee and some fresh orange juice “for take-out”.  I also got a fresh pastry, a chicken salad, and a cookie for later.  It’s a new day! Then, I got upset at my getting upset.  Haha.  Why all of this “drama”?  

Janet - posing

I had a person who was once important to me “then”, say things to me in response to my “Stockdale Paradox” post that let me know that he is not to be a part of my “now”.   CLICK!   Ever.  CLICK AND BLOCK!   Yes, I heard the “click” (written about in former posts)!  That was a reality check for me.  SO, when I write “there is no past, there is only the present moment”, I must listen to my own voice.  Who is part of my NOW?  I don’t have or need a fan page.  I don’t need for everyone to “like” me.  Will I become angry and bitter and unlikeable?  Maybe.  I know a lot of people who are angry and bitter and unlikeable, and they don’t seem to care.  Rude and uncaring.  They are not my friends.  

Posting this blog does not give people license to tell me off.  I have often said that if you don’t like what I have to say, DON’T READ IT.  Go somewhere else.  I have a lot of people who don’t want to hear what I have to say.  They haven’t wanted to hear what I have to say FOR YEARS.  That is not new news.  Haha.  Leave. Go away.  And, now, with the “THAT WAS THEN; THIS IS NOW new normal (sigh), it is not that I can afford to lose my friends, my relatives, my whoever-will-take-me-in, I can’t!  But I also cannot live with myself otherwise. 

We are all having to make choices because of chaos.  Is it politics?  Not all of it.  But I must admit that politics and the virus are playing big roles in creating the chaos.  I definitely don’t choose politics over friends.  I never have.  However, I knew from 2016 that anyone who supports Trump is questionable as my friend.  And, if those people still think he is doing a good job, I question their intelligence, their morals, and/or their discernment.  I don’t think it is possible to “cherry-pick” things you like/support about Trump.  True, each person is entitled to his/her own opinion (until that entitlement is taken away).   BUT I question whether I will remain that person’s friend – not that that person cares.  Haha.   But, I like me, and she is the person I live with. And, I want to really like my friends.  As well as be a good friend.   And, I want Missy to like me.  That is why I feed her and talk to her a lot.  Haha.  

I think people who criticize me personally think I am someone they used to know, not like I am today.  I have changed.  (Thank goodness)   We were – or might have been – friends “then”.   Not, NOW.  They want me to be who I was “then”.  They want me to agree with, to reflect, their position.  If they know me at all (most of my readers are not people I know),  They want me to be who they think I am……  

Wellllllll, that is not going to happen.  I hate bullies.  I hated bullies in grammar school, high school, college, and on and on.  I can name the high school bullies to this day.  I knew them then; I know them now.  I knew in 2016 and before, during the reality show and ‘”People” magazine, that is Trump was/is a bully. And a racist.  And, if you support, or overlook the fact that he is a bully and a racist (and a misogynist, xenophobe, liar, adulterer, narcissist, and more), you are no friend of mine.  Trump lashes out at elite organs of his own government — namely justice, intelligence officials and bureaucrats who trade in fact and traditional notions of US national interests. If there’s a rule, he will break it. If there’s a custom, he will infringe it to preserve his image as ultimate outsider and disruptor. Even when he is the ultimate authority.-And if you are willing to overlook all of that, you are the “intelligent” hypocrites I thought you were and are and will be. As we used to say in the South – “two-faced”.  That word doesn’t begin to say what I really think.  

So, for those who like my NOW, I want to post some photos.  For those who want to criticize me, go away.  We don’t need each other. Ever.

I am not taking the time to identify the photos. Just know that I am behind the camera.  I walked 1.7 miles.  During my therapy session this morning, as I was trying to calm myself down, I took over 50 photos in my passionate pursuit of peace.  Here are some of my favorites. The flowers are all in locked gardens.  So, you will have to go with the architecture and the trees and the sky.  I should know what something is and its significance, but I don’t.  Sorry, PARIS IN PROCESS…..Haha.  Or as I said at the beginning —   That was then; this is NOW.  

I passed a grammar school as I was walking down some street -not sure of the name but I think I was walking down Rue de St. Jacques toward the Seine.

unnamed-21

and this plaque was on the wall.  Translation:  “In memory of children, students of this school, deported from 1942 to 1944 because they were born Jewish, innocent victims of Nazi barbarism with the active complicity from the Vichy Government.  They were exterminated in the Death Camps.   Never forget them.  October 5, 2002.”  I am still reeling from that reality – of where I was standing.  The school is closed now for lockdown but still in operation.

unnamed-15

unnamed-3 copyunnamed-2unnamed-9 copy 2unnamed-7 copy

unnamed-9 copyunnamed-2 copy 3unnamed-8unnamed-1unnamed-12unnamed-13

unnamed copy 4unnamed-10 copy 2unnamed-22

Best, Jay   (I apologize for the ranting.  This was an important post for me to write.  I am NOT asking for agreement or argument.)

unnamed

 

 

 

THE STOCKDALE PARADOX

This is what is on my mind this morning…the “Stockdale Paradox”. Before I start, please know that I am not looking for agreement or argument.  I am thinking out loud in this post.  Contemplating this concept.  NOT A COMPARISON.  As a result, I often ramble.  And sometime, my point gets lost. My grammar get sloppy, my paragraphs get confusing.  But, I get impatient and want to publish.  Haha.  My apologies in advance……. Hey, just go with it!!

Have you ever heard of the Stockdale Paradox?  I heard of it this week by accident while browsing on the Internet.  I wanted to acknowledge the graduation class of 2020 by posting my picture at that wonderful time in my life. That is the best I can do. No insult.  Just a way of saying, I am thinking about all of you and your memorial experience, such as it is.  Thus, I was looking in my Yearbook for a graduation picture of me in 1955, and pow!  I remembered so many things. 

One thing that hit me like a ton of bricks – It all started early in my married life when I heard that a classmate of mine in high school, a guy named Douglas (Doug) Patterson, had killed himself.  What??????  Doug Patterson????  Yes! He took off all of his clothes, got into the bathtub, standing up, and shot himself in the head (not wanting to make a mess for his wife Nancy and family).  That was the story I was told.  I was horrified.  He was such a gentle, wonderful, likeable guy.  What happened????  Then, I got bits and pieces of the back story (as only people in the South can tell it – with dramatic everything.)  Who knows what was actually true!  Anyway, he had graduated from Med School, had become a practicing physician, had gone to Viet Nam as a doctor, had experienced terrible things, had never gotten beyond what happened to him in Viet Nam, and subsequently had killed himself because he could not live with his mental torment.  Not a lot of days go by that I don’t think of Doug Patterson, in one way or another.

unnamed

I can truly call Doug a “friend”.  I was always dating and concerned with boys, but Doug was just a good friend.  A buddy.  I didn’t have a lot of buddies.  And, he was special.  Always had a smile and an understanding comment of some kind. We were both usually class officers of one kind or another.  Our Senior year, we were voted “Best All Around” in the Yearbook. 

unnamed-2

So, we worked together on class committees.  Plus, we were in the same class from grammar school through High School graduation, after which I went off to the University of Wisconsin and he went to Med School.  Our pathways separated.  Then I heard the news. 

Now, let me add that I do not know a lot about the Viet Nam War.  During that time, my life was in a mess, so I did not pay attention.  My bad!   So, when I read Nelson DeMille’s book, “Up Country”, I could not put it down.   And, the whole time, I was there, alongside Doug Patterson.  I have always been concerned with John McCain’s story and Doug Patterson.  And, now, during this Pandemic, for some reason, Doug Patterson has been on my mind.  Then, this week, the Stockdale Paradox came across my path.   Let me explain…

James Bond Stockdale was born December 23, 1923. He was 14 when I was born.   During his lifetime, he was a United States Navy vice admiral and aviator.  He was awarded the Medal of Honor in the Vietnam War, during which he was a prisoner of war for over seven years in the Hanoi Hilton.  This is what happened. 

The Viet Nam War: Since there was no declaration of the war, exact dates are sketchy.  It was a conflict in Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia from 1 November 1955 to the fall of Saigon on 30 April 1975. North Vietnamese accepted a cease fire. But as U.S. troops departed Vietnam, Vietnamese military officials continued plotting to overtake South Vietnam.  How did the U.S. get involved?  President John F. Kennedy sent troops to defend South Vietnam. I don’t know what year.  Congress never declared war, but years later passed the Tonkin Resolution authorizing President Lyndon Johnson to use force against North Vietnam. 

For the U.S., it lasted until April 30, 1975, which is roughly 20 years, or 19 years, 180 days to be precise, when President Nixon signed the Paris Peace Accords, ending direct U.S. involvement in the Vietnam War.

Stockdale had led aerial attacks from the carrier USSTiconderoga (CVA-14) during the 1964 Gulf of Tonkin incident. Then, on his next deployment, while Commander of Carrier Air Wing Sixteen aboard the carrier USS Oriskany (CV-34), his A-4 Skyhawk jet was shot down in North Vietnam on September 9, 1965. He was 42 years old, at that time.  He survived.  And went on to serve as President of the Naval War College from October 1977 until he retired from the Navy in 1979.

As Vice Admiral, Stockdale became the President of The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina. We Southerners all are very proud of The Citadel.  Stockdale held this position from 1979 to 1980.  (For you political rookies) Stockdale was a candidate for Vice President of the United States in the 1992 presidential election, on Ross Perot’s independent ticket.

That is who he was.  Now, let me get to the reason for this Post. 

I am in a small Studio in Paris in “lockdown” during a Pandemic at the age of 83.  I have problems with both of my knees and walk with a cane. Otherwise, I am in good health.  My family of origin is dead, and my kids are elsewhere – physically and mentally.   I have wanted to move to France, especially Paris, since I was at the University of Wisconsin in 1955.  I don’t have time to lose. 

James Stockdale was definitely in a worse situation while he was being tortured in a Viet Nam prison camp during an unpopular “war”.  It is even ludicrous that I am comparing my situation to his.  But I do and I am.  How do I make the best of this?  I really hate this Studio.  Yet, I should be happy I am here.  I am not happy.  SO, I need a perspective that works for me.  This may be it!

I don’t want an “optimistic” prospective.  That is not working for me.  I am thinking a lot about the “Stockdale Paradox”.  The main gist of the idea is that I need to balance optimism with realism. Paradoxes are best understood through experience.  During the seven years that Stockdale was held prisoner, he was repeatedly tortured without a reason to believe he’d make it out alive. So, he found a way to stay alive by embracing the harshness of his situation with a balance of healthy optimism.  Well, that doesn’t sound so great.  It sounds like common sense.  NO.  On the contrary, it means that I can never afford to lose the most brutal facts of my current reality (whatever they may be). 

Stockdale explained this idea as the following: “You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end — which you can never afford to lose — with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.”  I am in a foreign country, foreign language, handicapped, elderly, in a pandemic/plague, female, caged, retired, financially dependent, etc.   That combined at the same time with “I will prevail in the end.” Thus, the paradox. The ability to acknowledge my situation and balance optimism with realism comes from an understanding of the Stockdale Paradox. This contradictory way of thinking was the strength that led James through those trying years. Such paradoxical thinking has been one of the defining philosophies for great leaders making it through hardship and reaching their goals.

Whether it’s weathering through a torturous imprisonment in a POW camp or going through my own trials and tribulations, the Stockdale Paradox has merit as a way of thinking and acting for any trying times in a person’s life.  I consider this a trying time in my life.  I am in a situation of my own making, and I did not prepare for the unexpected – a pandemic!!   Few of us did.  Expecting the best while preparing for the worst – even though the worst is worse than my worst!! 

So, I have asked and answered the question – what are my wildest dreams at this point in my life?  I know.  I want things to workout for myself.   I want to be successful, happy, and have achieved something no matter how trivial or personal it may be.  We all do.

I know enough about the human brain to know that it is important to visualize what I want.  But I am just skeptical enough to know that making that happen is not just going to come by positive visualization. That’s all well and good, and it makes me feel nice.  On the contrary, also confronting the entire brevity of my situation (my lifetime) is instrumental for success. There’s a bit of positive visualization in there, but it needs to be counterbalanced with the thought that I can utterly fail and to put it frankly – my current existence might be absolutely miserable and hopeless. But I must not lose faith, my wildest dreams just might come true. . . hence the paradox.It’s not about choosing which side to take, but instead learning to embrace both feelings in opposition to one another and realize they’re both necessary and interconnected. 

This duality helps to guard against the onslaught of disappointments that will hit me in the process. Optimism may drive innovation, but that needs to be put in check to help ensure that I am still on this plane of reality and not bumbling naively into something that can’t happen.  It helps me to keep myself grounded, but also entertain the idea of being incredibly successful in whatever pursuit I am after.  The Stockdale Paradox can help me assess a current situation and plan accordingly to tackle the challenges I will come across. It enforces both the idea that I can be positive and believe I will overcome all difficulties while at the same time I am confronting the most brutal facts of my current situation. The latter is what turns people off, because it can be misconstrued as negative or overly pessimistic.

In some strange way, this makes a lot of sense to me.  I realize that I have a lot of things that seem to be going wrong and I can walk out the door, get a disease, and die, like I watched Steve do, and yet, I may prevail and get a lovely home and have a loving companion and make money and walk and wear pretty shoes, and shop for Armani clothes, and speak fluent French and act in a film and whatever else exists in my wildest dreams.  So can you.  That thought makes me happy.  Stockdale died in 2005. He was 82 when he died. I just turned 83.  And, I am going to think about my wildest dreams while I confront this miserable plague in this tiny Studio that feels like a cage!!   What happened to those kids who were put in cages.  Are they still there?  The cruelty of those actions are beyond cruel.  And, I have a list of people to whom I want to say, “I told you so.” Ugh.  And, they still support their positions.  Double ugh.  The reality that they won’t face is very ugly.  But, meanwhile, back to my wildest dreams……..

Meanwhile, please support Jayspeak. I know, I know.  Why?  Why not?  Even a little helps.  Thanks in advance.

 

 

Support Jayspeak

Donations

$50.00

Best, Jay, 

Gainesville High School, Class of 1955, Gainesville, Georgia

unnamed-3

This post is dedicated to my friend, Dr. Douglas Patterson, Class of 1955, Gainesville High School, Gainesville, Georgia.
unnamed-1
POETRY

| WRITTEN BY KRAGE

Poetry Pop Poetry Blog

Put a pop of poetry in your day!

Rattle: Poetry

… without pretension since 1995.

Living Poetry

A group of poets and poetry readers.

Poetry Blog

I write poetry to express what's on my mind or how I feel

Poetry For Healing

Finding Your Words

New Zealand Poetry Society

Supporting and promoting poets and poetry in New Zealand

You And Poetry

Dear Stranger

Poetry Breakfast

Serving a little poetic nourishment Monday thru Friday and featuring a Short Play Saturday Matinee to read.

Poetry Academe

Your sole poetry school

Morning Star Poetry

Light shall shine out of darkness!

DAYS OF OUR LIVES

The days of our lives

JAYSPEAK

Welcome to My World!

WORDKET

-Chase the Stories

RL WEB

MAKING LIFE BETTER

Chris Rogers The Actor

SAG-AFTRA Actor, WordPress Presenter, & Public Speaker