May You Live In Interesting Times (No. 2)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?                   

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

Dear Gentlereaders, 

I've written a few columns, three to be exact (1,2,3), titled The State of the Zeitgeist. This was supposed to be an ongoing thing, but it hasn't been. Well, it's back (tell your friends) and it's now called May You Live In Interesting Times.

               "Pleasure in the job puts perfection in the work." -Aristotle


Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

A local version of Ron Burgundy (Geezer reference: Ted Baxter) is on the air.

"American Motors announced today that due to declining sales of the locally produced Neo-Gremlin, the third shift at the Zenith plant will be temporarily suspended and approximately 1,100 employees will be laid off.

Archie Sternberger, president of the Zenith chamber of commerce, estimates that a total of roughly 3,900 local jobs will be affected to one degree or another because they are economically tied to the plant."


Click

So, what do we do now?

Well, we adjust, we downsize... it's not like we've got a choice.

You gonna look for a new job or ride it out and hope you get called back?

Yes (GRIN).

I don't...

Sure ya do, I'll do both. I'll never find anything that pays as well, but I might not get called back. Sales are way down and if gas stays cheap they'll stay down. Besides, your brother's living proof that my theory's correct. Might be best if I don't go back.

You mean...

Yup. Work the line long enough and brain death is virtually inevitable. I wonder if I could get a grant from somebody to conduct a study...

She Gibbs-slaps him while simultaneously suppressing a laugh. Hey! if it wasn't for him you wouldn't have a good job to be laid off from.

Define good.

Any job that pays close to what that one pays regardless of the risk of brain death.

Point taken... good thing I'm married to a nurse. Hey, once you get your masters will you make enough to support me? I've always wanted to be a househusband.

Don't hold your breath... and what about the kids? The kids...

...Like us, have to deal. We spin it as a reality check, a life lesson, which it is.

Mmm, I get all tingly when you channel Ward Cleaver. But what about Disney World? That's the first thing they're going to ask.

Tell 'em the ways and means committee has authorized a temporary subcommittee to study the matter and file a report ASAP.

Oh, OK, I feel much better now.

They toss rueful grins at each other.

Why an Honors Student Wants to Skip College and Go to Trade School

[Gentlereaders, the headline above appeared in the Wall Street Journal on 3/6/18. If you would like to read the article I've shared it on my Facebook page (twice). The WSJ has a heavily fortified paywall but permits sharing via Facebook.] 

The article caught my eye for two reasons. The very first Sticky (Dude) is confronting career choices even as I write and his next youngest sibling (Abbagirl) is not far behind; Bug and Duuude still have a minute. 

Also, the honors student featured in the WSJ article attends a high school in a suburb of my hometown, Pittsburgh, Pa. That's Pittsburgh wit an h yinz guys. 

Most likely, by the time my grandstickies read this, it will be ancient history to them, the process of career choice having already begun. The advice I'm giving them in real time is to think about what they would enjoy doing but not neglecting consideration of how much the world might be willing to pay them to do it.


The article in question is built around the fact that one Raelee Nicholson and an older cousin rebuilt a car when Raelee was 14. "...when we got it running it was the best feeling in the world. I really like working with my hands." Ms. Nicholson is an honors student who finished in the 88th percentile on her college boards.

She's currently rebuilding an '87 Trans Am. Rather than go to college she wants to go to a tech school and become a diesel mechanic.

The absurd price of college/student loan indenture, the fact a college degree ain't what it used to be, the unpredictability of the job market of the future and parents who went (or wish they had) to college — is the actual subject/point of the article.

The comments on the article tell the real story. There's — screw college and the likely accumulation of significant debt partizans. There's the — even a liberal arts degree and an impractical major is worth it crowd. There's a — follow your bliss club. Etcetera.

What all the commenters have in common, though most don't acknowledge it, is that predicting what will provide job/career security in the Dizzinformation Age is like whistling in a hurricane. Interesting times. Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2018 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to comment, or react (way cooler than liking) — please scroll down. 
  

Life's a Bitch & Then You Die (Pt. 2)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

"Truth is everybody is going to hurt you: you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for." —Bob Marley 

Dear (eventual) Stickies & Great-grandstickies,

"I got a question. If I'm a bad guy and I know it, maybe even like it, ain't choosing to do the wrong thing the right thing?" -Iggy

This was the question asked by your imaginary representative a letter or two ago that I'm just getting around to directly answering. Sorry, you know how I get.

Hello, my name is Mark, and I'm a blatherskite.
Hi Mark.

Blatherskite or nay, I do strive to be logical. Let me begin by stating that if you are suffering from antisocial personality disorder (APD, diagnosed or not), what follows will be a waste of your time. APD, incidentally, is the official name of what's wrong with you if you're a sociopath or a psychopath.

Surprisingly, to me at least, from what I can tell neither sociopathy or psychopathy is a recognized diagnosis. It would seem that I've been ill-informed by TV and the movies. Huh! WebMD has an interesting article as to the difference betwixt soc and psych.


"Life's a bitch, then you die." —Tony Daniels

"I teach suffering, it's origin, cessation, and path." —the Buddha

"The human system is cursed with pain because it is a self-conscious system." —Thaddeus Golas

"Life is full of misery, loneliness, and suffering — and it's all over much too soon." —Woody Allen

Before proceeding, I must acknowledge a debt to Jordan Peterson. Hopefully, by the time you read this, he will have gone mainstream. The world will be better for it. What follows is something I've been thinking about and refining for literally decades. Dr. Peterson's utterances, however, have provided much-needed clarification.

Regardless of whether you believe that when life ends, an afterlife begins, or, that's that, or, you're keeping your options open — inevitably, yer outta here. (Yes, Mike, I acknowledge that the technological singularity may, eventually, be a thing, but in the meantime...).

While you're waiting for your deletion, life, even if you have Kim Kardashianish Karma, will regularly sink its teeth into your big, round, biography.

Ain't it great? We the people polarized do all have something in common.


The question is, what's the best way to amuse oneself while waiting for the inevitable? If you're an after-lifer odds are whatever tradition you've chosen will include a set of Rules&Regs — problem solved.

If you're a that's-thater, or you're keeping your options open, there are choices to be made. I am of the opinion that while there are many choices, all fall under one of two categories. Up or Down, Alleviate or Aggravate (my prefered names), _______ or _______ — label them as you will.

If suffering is a given, you can choose to alleviate it or aggravate it.

Aggravate

"If I'm a bad guy and I know it, maybe even like it, ain't choosing to do the wrong thing the right thing?" There are infinite variations of this question generated by infinite states of mind that range from having a bad day to having a bad life to being a full-blown psychopath.

Bottom line? You make things worse, you aggravate suffering, often including your own.

Alleviate

Alternatively, you can choose to "do the right thing" — if possible, and if you know what it is. The devil, as always, lives in a comfy, beachfront condo in the details and he's laughing at you while presiding over a world-class cookout. 

Bottom line? You might make things better, you might relieve suffering, you...

[Wait-wait-wait. Sometimes, often, choosing to do the wrong thing feels damn good and...]

Absabalutely, Dana. But victimizing someone else brings more suffering into the world. So, ultimately, does victimizing yourself. Assuming you're not an addict of some sort, occasionally getting loaded, be it via chocolate or alcohol, is harmless. Getting drunk or overeating every day is gonna get ugly, and fast, and likely to affect the kids you share the playground with. 

[OK, but if choosing to do the right thing only might make things better...]

It will almost always make you feel better about you, that is to say, alleviate your suffering.

[Wait-wait-wait, it can't be that simple. What about...]

Maybe it can. Poppa loves you. 

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2018 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to comment — or react (way cooler than liking) — please scroll down. 










   

Life's a Bitch & Then You Die (Pt. 1)

If you're new here, this is a weekly column consisting of letters written to my grandchildren (who exist) and my great-grandchildren (who aren't here yet) — the Stickies — to haunt them after they become grups and/or I'm dead.

                                   THE AGE OF UNLIGHTENMENT?

[Blogaramians: Blogarama renders the links in my columns useless. Please click on View Original to solve this problem and access lotsa columns.]

Irregularly Appearing Imaginary Guest Stars

Marie-Louise -- My beautiful muse and back scratcher 

Iggy -- My designated Sticky

Dana -- My designated gentlereader

Dear Gentlereaders,
I've written a few columns, three to be exact (1,2,3), titled The State of the Zeitgeist. This was supposed to be an ongoing thing, but it hasn't been. Well, it's back (tell your friends) and it's now called May You Live In Interesting Times. M.Y.L.I.I.T. (2) will appear in a few weeks.

Also, going forward, you'll find that I will be (well, trying to) limiting my columns to 755 wpc (HT: Gloria A.). Till now, the (theoretical) limit was 1,000 wpc (words per column) but I've often gone over that, occasionally waaay over that.

While the primary purpose of my feeble scribbles is to leave a written legacy for my grandstickies & great-grandstickies, I confess I wouldn't mind generating a buck or three for my efforts, "No man but a blockhead ever wrote, except for money." -Samuel Johnson

Most writers don't make much money, if any money, to speak of; the competition is fierce, competitors numerous. But I confess that my No. 1 fantasy (I am getting old after all; my fantasies ain't what they used to be) is to generate a few bucks for my efforts.

However, the market has spoken. Being a wild-eyed free marketeer I semi-gracefully accept it's verdict. I've managed to secure exactly one Patron who supports my efforts to the tune of $5/month. But I'm a patron of four others, all of whom deserve donations more than I, which costs me $6/month, I've written roughly 140+ columns and my cash flow is: (-)$1/month.

Which is why I'm going to spend less time on my column so that I can spend more time working on my version of the great not too shabby American novel. Easy peasy, right? I'll be rolling in the big bucks in no time.

Oh, and for the record, the "four others" are Jordan B. Peterson, Dave Rubin, Crash Course, and Quillette. And now, on with the show.

"The aim of education is the knowledge, not of facts, but of values."
                                                                                 -William S. Burroughs

Dear (eventual) Grandstickies & Great-Grandstickies,

Last weeks letter, It's Not What You Know, was about two different ways of applying that maxim (ha'maxim?) in the world. First, for lack of a better word, to secular phenomena, i.e., financial/occupational. For these sorts of cases I completed the maxim with the well-known suffix it's who you know.

Being a  man of the real world (more or less) I also mentioned that, um, who you suck up to, is a valid way to complete the ha'maxim under discussion.

The second way was about the application of the maxim in question to psychological/emotional/ethical conundrums. "It's not what you know, it's the relentless pursuit of who you might like to be." This is the official, authorized and licensed version of The Flyoverland Crank, LLC, ABC, M.O.U.S.E., inc.

As to the second, I told Iggy that the primary point of the relentless pursuit of who you might like to be was to cultivate one's virtue. I also mentioned that when I was in school in the Black and White ages I was taught virtue cultivation by Sister Mary McGillicuddy and her colleagues.

"The idea is to develop a given kids character by teaching them to be virtuous so that they don't need to memorize 1,001 rules, so they'll likely know the right thing to do in a given situation." -me

"That's that Seven Virtues thing you talked about, right? I got a question. If I'm a bad guy and I know it, maybe even like it, ain't choosing to do the wrong thing the right thing?" -Iggy

Hmm. That, as they say, is a damn good question.


When I was but a fresh-faced callowyute several thousand days ago in the Black and White ages, Iggy's question would have never occurred to me. Good guys were, good guys. Bad guys were, bad guys. In any given fictional conflict between good guys and bad guys, in any given media, the good guys invariably triumphed.

Yes, I was quite naive. The real world was as full of bad guys then as it is now. Contrary to the plots of the movies I watched every Saturday afternoon at the Arcade Theatre — two movies and a cartoon, 35¢ — bad guys often win.

But why did/does the good guy v. bad guy, good guy wins (GGvBG-GGW) narrative feel so... right?

Propaganda? Brainwashing? After all, not only were all those movies I watched at the Arcade based on the triumph of good over evil, so was TV at the time. I confess I was raised in the glow of the talking lamp. When you're the fifth of seven kids a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.

But I don't think that propaganda, or even the carrot Toll House cookies or the stick school of parenting that was in vogue at the time, now politically incorrect, explains GGvBG-GGW. They reinforce it, but they don't create it.

We're born that way

There's been a good deal of research done and the current consensus is that the factory default settings for H. sapiens include empathy, compassion, justice — and GGvBG-GGW. This video from a Sixty Minutes broadcast nicely, and succinctly, explains the science. Good. 

The bad news is that Us v. Them is also one of our default settings, we arrive prewired to prefer those who are most like ourselves in major as well as trivial ways. Sheesh... that explains a lot. Not so good.

However, as far as I'm concerned this reinforces the value of virtues-based education. Live and let live might be a good virtue to cultivate first. Learning to share a playground makes more sense that having to build and maintain multiple playgrounds.


[Thats swell Sparky, but I note you haven't actually addressed Iggy's question, which I'd reframe as — fuggiden, why not just embrace the/your dark side? particularly if you believe that when life ends it just ends, or you've been kicked in the face one too many times?]

Your more perceptive than I look, Dana. However, I do have a specific answer to Iggy's question which I'd reframe as — given that any grup on the planet Earth understands the significance of the title of this weeks missive, why keep getting out of bed in the morning?

However, till I wrote, rewrote and thought about the above a time or ten I didn't have an answer I was satisfied with. I now do, but since I'm at, excuse me a sec'... 754 words, it's gonna have to wait till next week, rules are rules. Poppa loves you.

Have an OK day.


[P.S. Gentlereaders, for 25¢ a week, no, seriously, for 25¢ a week you can become a Patron of this weekly column and help to prevent an old crank from running the streets at night in search of cheap thrills and ill-gotten gains.

If there are some readers out there that think my shtuff is worth a buck or three a month, color me honored, and grateful. Regardless, if you like it, could you please share it? There are buttons at the end of every column.]


©2017 Mark Mehlmauer   (The Flyoverland Crank)

If you're reading this on my website (where there are tons of older columns, a glossary, and other goodies) and if you wish to react (way cooler than liking) — please scroll down. 

As to comments...Patrons can click on the community button of my Patreon page and post any comment they would like (be gentle with me). They are also given an email address for the exclusive use of Patrons (again, be gentle) when they sign up.  

Everyone else is welcome to go to my Facebook page. Scroll down to the relevant posting (I post new column announcements every Sunday morning) and have at me.