When the fictions overwhelm the truth, bad things can happen

A blogger I follow posted something yesterday that makes me think about how life can pretty much chug along for most people, despite the dysfunction of the national government, the ravings of the King, and an undefined ongoing war in the Middle East.

The post was about how people can improve in almost every way by overcoming what he calls "the crisis of human energy." He is referring to the fact that many of us complain about being tired and listless despite all the modern conveniences of life.

When asked if they get the recommended amount of exercise each week, 62 percent claimed they did. When their weekly exercise was more objectively measured, however, by a wearable device, it turns out that only 9.4 percent were actually doing what they claimed.

This should not be a big surprise, I suppose. We constantly lie to ourselves about so many things. We almost certainly don't make efficent use of our available time, for instance. We publicly claim to be eating healthy while in private we certainly do not. 

I know a woman who shares all sorts of things about her personal goals while claiming she is doing it as a form of "being accountable." She really just wants to talk about herself and has invented this "accountability" angle to force people around her to just sit and listen (and, I assume, congratulate her on her talents and willpower and all-around greatness). 

A minor fib of mine is that I just can't find the time and energy for completing a church history I am writing along with a readers theater script that I have volunteered to write while teaching three online writing classes this semester. 

I know it's a fib because I somehow can find loads of time for watching multiple TV shows each day, a couple while we have lunch and a couple more after dinner. I could argue that those hours are for me to recharge, but if I'm being honest, they are mostly mindless entertainment. That's OK, of course, but I certainly COULD swap a show for doing some additional writing or research.

Most Americans are well aware that a deluded, unintelligent, and possibly demented man is keeping the country and the world in swirling chaos each day, but we soldier on with some vague hope that "this too shall pass." It probably will, but what happens while it passes could be very ugly for many people.

What happens when you find yourself living in a country where a small majority of voters made a choice that we all have to live with for nearly three more years? 

The cult members lie to themselves, of course. FOX News lies gleefully, of course. So many pundits lie and hunt for explanations for the unexplainable. But I vaguely understand that I am lying to myself on a daily basis about the nation I live in and just paid a large tax bill to. 

I cling, almost at a DNA level, to the idea that America is a good and decent place, and that we are, overall, a country to emulate and that deserves its influence.

Now THAT is a whopper. 

It's time for the story to be told

Among the ongoing news of various scandals and missteps and outright immoral acts of our current administration, this week brought news of how the Pentagon spent hundreds of millions in September. Unspoken was the annual truth that underlies this revelation: it happens each year.

Whether it is some official rule or not, the practice has been for many decades that the military must spend all its allocation of funding by the end of the fiscal year (Oct. 1). To spend less is to send a message that funding might be reduced in the future. 

And, crucially, unspent funds cannot be rolled over into future budgets.

So, the system flips what most would call common sense -- that being budget-conscious is to be valued -- and forces each piece of the giant military establishment to spend, spend, spend.

How do I know this has been ongoing for decades, you ask? Turns out I contributed to just such an effort to spend allocated funds in my renowned tenure as base funds manager at RAF Lakenheath. It was September of 1972, and young Airman First Class Kennedy had been elevated to the funds manager role after the Master Sergeant who had occupied the position retired.

The base was between aircraft deployments (our F100s had been shipped to Turkey and the F4s were not yet coming to us from Vietnam), which likely has something to do with the supply company just telling me I was in charge of ordering basic supplies and equipment for the base. And, after all, it's not like I didn't have numerous officers sending me orders, all approved by the colonel in charge.

I was, essentially, an office drone. 

Back to a mid-September morning when I was called to the company commander and told to scour inventories and find whatever means was necessary to spend what I recall as at least $500,000 in allocated funds, and to do it within two weeks.

Unlike what happened last September, I did not consider ordering millions of dollars of fancy food for military mess halls -- that sort of choice likely required Hegseth-level approval. But after buying as many office supplies and annual needs as I could find figures for (essentially covering the 1972-73 fiscal year's major expenses that did not involve actual fighter jets and fuel, etc.), I finally came up with a somewhat audacious plan.

We had several empty aircraft hangers on base, just aching to be filled. I suggested to the company commander that toilet paper and other various paper products had very long shelf lives, so to speak, and that we could store large quantities on the base for, well, some time... at least until planes arrived from southeast Asia. 

In retrospect, it all seems short-sighted. The planes really would arrive, though not until after I rotated back to the States a year later, and those hangers would be operational again. The next fiscal year's budget would not be stocking up on toilet paper, so that next budget would need to find a new solution to any excess funds. But, orders are orders, and the captain in charge mostly just wanted to report that our excess money had been spent.

Bottom line: I placed a mammoth order for paper products, mostly TP, and some grunts from base supply really did fill a hanger with those essential products. In fact, they were flown in by a military transport plane to nearby RAF Mildenhall. 

That was my first, and pretty much ONLY experience, spending a whole lot of money that was not mine. It was like a game. 

I assume that the September, 2025, purchases felt like a game to today's supply specialists. I felt like a winner in 1972. I had done my job and everyone seemed pleased. 

Also pleased were at least four years of Air Force personnel, blessed with a seemingly endless supply of generic toilet paper. What, you thought I could order Charmin?

'No one ever went broke underestimating the ignorance of the American public'

I am a citizen of a nation whose military, under the direction of a self-styled king, has murdered over a hundred young girls who were attending a school a bit too close to a military installation in Iran. The king and his abhorant and blood-thristy minion (Hegseth) appear to just shrug and pass it off as inadvertant consequences during a war.

I guess the only recourse for anyone who, like me, believes we are in the hands of rabid madmen whose thirst for money and power knows no bounds, is to patiently wait for the midterm elections to exhultantly cast our votes for anyone not a Republican.

But that is less than satisfying. After all, we are left to watch in dismay as the country continues to summarily kill and execute and kidnap people both within and without the country's borders. 

We are now a rogue state but it seems clear that our fellow citizens can't quite wrap their heads around that fact. We were taught for so many years that we were the good guys that our current state of affairs seems unreal and (we assure ourselves) temporary.

I fear that things will not "snap back" with equal force.

One reason why is a report that Kathleen viewed on CBS that claimed many Americans apparently were not aware of the war on Iran at all, despite all the media coverage, UNTIL they noticed gas prices rising dramatically. 

Think of the level of disconnection it takes to live your life blithely, ignorant of even news about the nation going to war. Talk about "battening down the hatches."

Perhaps those ignorant souls are simply guarding their own mental health. Perhaps life really is so demanding and overwhelming that they have no more intellectual capacity.

I know politicians need to function on multiple levels, from the culture wars to international affairs to matters of constitutional importance, but if Democrats don't pay attention to that simple fact... that millions simply don't pay attention to the news from ANY source, they will disappoint.

The only thing that matters to the American zeitgeist right now is money... What's in it for them? What can they afford or not afford. What's the price of gas?

Bill Clinton and his team had it right. It really is the economy, stupid. 

And the "stupid" are a vast number of Americans, I'm afraid.

Trump won two elections by leveraging that vast expanse of stupidity. We can moan about it and shake our heads in wonder.

But Democrats need to tap into that same strategy.

Oh, and the Epstein files, of course.

Friday night, cozy at home after the storm

It's been snowing all day... must be at least eight inches of very wet snow, though much of it is compressing from its own weight. 

I only mention this because I can't remember the last time it snowed around here, much less snowed more than an inch. The snow will likely be melted by end of the day Sunday since temps will be back in the 60s with sun.

The roads are messy and there's enough snow to get the plows out, but Kathleen and I really don't care. We have our Friday pizza from Papa Murphy's, plenty of beer and wine, an Iowa women's game to watch at 4:30 (they are playing in the Big Ten Tournament), and a wide choice of movies for our Friday night pizza and a movie tradition.

For the past month or so, we have been alternating choosing movie musicals. We own about three dozen DVDs, so there's a lot to choose from, but it's my night and I may go with "Grease 2," which was written about last week in the New York Times.

It came out in 1982 and has been a favorite in our family for many years. Lesley and Sara and Phil can quote numerous lines from the film as well as break out and sing many of the songs from the show. 

I can't hear someone say the word "reproduction" without wanting to break out into the Grease 2 song of that name. I want a rider that's cool. The show offers a song in praise of bowling, for heaven's sake. One of the great parodies of school talent shows is "Girl for All Seasons." 

Just rereading that list cements my choice for tonight, and I see it's available on Paramount+ so...

I am actually shocked that "Grease 2" is not in our DVD collection. That collection is getting smaller as we cull and edit and make decisions about whether we are likely to ever want to watch "Shrek" on a Friday night again. The answer was no, particularly after Sara and boys said they would take our collection of all three Shrek movies a month ago or so. 

We aren't being nutty about it, but we are occasionally donating or tossing some DVDs and books that are just accumulating dust. We should do much more but it's a heavy task, at least for us.

When you are 75, there are moments when you begin realizing that, for instance, replacing the carpet in the house is not as long-term a "fix" as it might have been when we were 50. Two weeks ago, we finally had a water softener installed to help with our fixtures, plumbing, etc., and the guy mentioned that it came with a ten-year warranty.

Sounds awesome, but when I'm 85... well, IF I'm 85, investing in the future seems less likely to pay off. Still, it's clearly a good idea to plan to live to 100, just in case. 

I just hope our BluRay players holds up.

Just another week wondering what the heck I'm doing with an online class

The spring semester reached the six-week mark a few days ago... so, 6 of 15, or 40 percent through. 

You might think that by this point, most students have adapted to the weekly assignment schedule. For my Metro "Composing Arguments" class, that deadline is each Tuesday night by midnight, and most weeks include 2-3 assignments which can be uploaded any time prior to the deadline. They are a mix of short of more demanding.

Long story short: you would be wrong thinking those deadlines have become routine. 

I was shocked, honestly (and I should know better, perhaps), to find Wednesday morning that fully HALF of my 22 students had failed to submit what I call the "next draft" of an essay that they submitted two weeks ago. The original assignment was to write a descriptive essay that made a significant event or moment or scene come alive. 

The "next draft" asked first for a self-reflection (based on their own analysis after some time away from the essay, plus consideration of the comments I shared with them) and then a second draft.

Of course, I do have three students who never submitted the first draft and that certainly presents a challenge. But I did email each of them inviting them to at least submit that missing draft so they would not end up with zero out of 100 possible points (60 for the first draft and another 40 for the second). It's Friday and none of the three have responded or submitted the first draft. 

I hope my assignments and deadlines don't sound overly complicated. My hope is that students can practice re-writing as an important skill. Many experts argue that ALL writing is re-writing at some level. The real work comes after we get the basic ideas on the screen or page, as we find more focus and see holes in the narrative or the need for more context or description.

So, what is their instructor to think when so many students reject the opportunity to revisit their work?

One thought I have is that they are completely surprised at the very idea of revisiting a piece of writing and become paralyzed. "But didn't I already DO that assignment?"

A second thought is that I might not have given the sort of feedback that many students need to dig back into a personal essay. That is a tough one to evaluate, but there is quite a range of sample texts and my own commentary to draw upon. There is no guarantee that students actually read most of the material I give them, though.

Several times per semester, I give an online quiz on what I feel is an important writing sample... just a desparate way to force students to read (or at least browse) what I find compelling and instructive. 

In a sense, requiring a one-page reflection on that first draft is the same thing: the best reflections respond in some way to at least some of my comments, making me feel less useless in the overall exercise. 

I may need to create even more "quick quizzes" for Metro students, though you would think college students would not need the same "tricks" routinely used on middle school or high school students. 

At some point, we all need to determine for ourselves whether we need to "do the reading." The truth is that many colleges students haven't gotten to that point. 

A third, more depressing thought, is that some students find writing to be so onerous, such a chore, and so debilitating, that the very thought of returning to a disdained piece of writing leads them to avoidance and risking wasting their tuition money. 

I asked those tardy writers to get their "next drafts" in this weekend. I will not be holding my breath.

Speak on, your Majesty!

The state of the union? Chaotic, at best.

Anyone who chooses to watch what our King promises will be a very long State of the Union address (last year it ran 1 hour 40 minutes) is either a masochist, a pundit, or a Cult member. I honestly can't imagine spending one moment with it, though I assume I will see clips and read endless analysis in the days to come.

Just thinkingn about tonight's big event leads me to a famous scene from "Monty Python and Holy Grail" (we saw "Spamalot" last Sunday at Littonton Town Hall theater... fun stuff).

King Arthur is "riding" through the countryside on his quest when he happens upon some peasants toiling in a field next to the road... they are cutting sod, apparently. 

Arthur: Old Woman!
 
The peasant turns around, revealing that he is in fact a man.
 
Man:	Man!
Arthur: Man, sorry.... What knight lives in that castle over there?
Man:	I'm thirty-seven!
Arthur: (suprised) What?
Man:	I'm thirty-seven! I'm not old--
Arthur: Well I can't just call you "man"...
Man:	Well you could say "Dennis"--
Arthur: I didn't know you were called Dennis!
Man:	Well, you didn't bother to find out, did you?!
Arthur: I did say sorry about the "old woman", but from behind, you looked--
Man:	Well I object to your...you automatically treat me like an inferior!
Arthur: Well I *am* king...
Man:	Oh, king, eh, very nice. And 'ow'd you get that, eh?
	(he reaches his destination and stops, dropping the cart)
	By exploiting the workers! By 'angin' on to outdated imperialist dogma
	which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society.
	If there's ever going to be any progress,--
Woman:	Dennis! There's some lovely filth down 'ere!
	(noticing Arthur) Oh! 'Ow'd'ja do?
Arthur: How do you do, good lady. I am Arthur, king of the Britons. Whose
	castle is that?
Woman:	King of the 'oo?
Arthur: King of the Britons.
Woman:	'Oo are the Britons?
Arthur: Well we all are! We are all Britons! And I am your king.
Woman:	I didn't know we 'ad a king! I thought we were an autonomous collective.
Man:	(mad) You're fooling yourself! We're living in a dictatorship! A
	self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working classes--
Woman:	There you go, bringing class into it again...
Man:	That's what it's all about! If only people would--
Arthur: Please, *please*, good people, I am in haste! WHO lives in that
	castle?
Woman:	No one lives there.
Arthur: Then who is your lord?
Woman:	We don't have a lord!
Arthur: (surprised) What??
Man:	I *told* you! We're an anarcho-syndicalist commune! We're taking
	turns to act as a sort of executive-officer-for-the-week--
Arthur: (uninterested) Yes...
Man:	But all the decisions *of* that officer 'ave to be ratified at a
	special bi-weekly meeting--
Arthur: (perturbed) Yes I see!
Man:	By a simple majority, in the case of purely internal affairs--
Arthur: (mad) Be quiet!
Man:	But by a two-thirds majority, in the case of more major--
Arthur: (very angry) BE QUIET! I *order* you to be quiet!
Woman:	"Order", eh, 'oo does 'e think 'e is?
Arthur: I am your king!
Woman:	Well I didn't vote for you!
Arthur: You don't vote for kings!
Woman:	Well 'ow'd you become king then?
(holy music up)
Arthur: The Lady of the Lake--her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite,
	held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by
	divine providence that I, Arthur, was to carry Excalibur. THAT is why
	I am your king!
Man:	(laughingly) Listen: Strange women lying in ponds distributing swords
	is no basis for a system of government! Supreme executive power
	derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some... farcical
	aquatic ceremony!
Arthur: (yelling) BE QUIET!
Man:	You can't expect to wield supreme executive power just 'cause some
	watery tart threw a sword at you!!
Arthur: (coming forward and grabbing the man) Shut *UP*!
Man:	I mean, if I went 'round, saying I was an emperor, just because some
	moistened bit had lobbed a scimitar at me, they'd put me away!
Arthur: (throwing the man around) Shut up, will you, SHUT UP!
Man:	Aha! Now we see the violence inherent in the system!
Arthur: SHUT UP!
Man:	(yelling to all the other workers) Come and see the violence inherent
	in the system! HELP, HELP, I'M BEING REPRESSED!
Arthur: (letting go and walking away) Bloody PEASANT!
Man:	Oh, what a giveaway! Did'j'hear that, did'j'hear that, eh?  That's
	what I'm all about! Did you see 'im repressing me? You saw it, didn't you?! 

That one scene manages to parody the very idea of a king and Divine Right while also poking fun at ultra-liberal politics and governmental processes that take forever and require endless debate.

BTW: how DID Trump become King?

Oh, thanks, Tim. I have to actually write something?

Tim, the fourth of the eight Kennedy siblings, has been writing memoirs and "life reports" on trips and family events for over a decade now. As a dogged blogger, I appreciate his efforts and admire his "voice" on the page. I have saved all 116 of his short essays (so far)... and honestly don't know what I will do with them. Perhaps a published volume for a special occasion. I have the storage on my desktop computer, so why not? And it's easy enough to publish a book with all the printers looking for work.

Today, he sent out a request through our sibling text chain asking for all of us to contribute a story about our father, to be compiled by Tim and published in conjunction with the anniversary of dad's passing, which is approaching. I love a good compilation and will certainly put something together. 

As with any memoir, it would be difficult to confirm most of my memories. They have been sorted and edited and filtered through my head over so many years that I honestly couldn't differentiate myth from reality... well, I would like to think I have the facts right, but who knows?

It occurred to me to use this blog to share some of those random stories from an increasingly distant past, for myself and any loyal readers. I will try to do so, when time permits.

But the timing of Tim's request is perfect as my Metro class is now working (well, they have the assignment) on a "next draft" of their Significant Moment essay which they wrote two weeks ago. The students were all over the place, with some understanding that a "moment" does not constitute weeks, months, and years, and some demonstrating that they read my samples of short memoirs and my own instructions and examples. 

The word count was about 800, just to give the students a ballpark as to the detail and depth they would need to do well. Some wrote fewer and many went over the limit. Interestingly, this is a classic case of writing MORE not necessarily leading to more success. For inexperienced writers, writing more is often just expanding the possibility of error or logic problems or simply wandering off and writing about stuff that might be true but has nothing to do with the point.

If I had a nickel for every student who begins a short memoir by describing getting up and driving to work or to a game or to school or to a date, usually making certain to emphasize that they had no idea something sad, happy, crazy, or tragic was about to happen... well, I would have quite a stack of nickels.

Not enough to offset the tariffs I have paid lately, but still. 

My standard advice is to think like a TV writer and drop readers into a dramatic or funny or provocative moment (in media res), hoping that first scene can be intriguing enough that viewers will return after the commercial break.

I don't ask for a "next draft" all the time, and the exercise is not a strong fit for an asynchronous online writing class, but at least some of them will read my many comments and think about my suggestions concerning recreating dialog or developing key characters or simply lmiting themselves to one morning in their life. 

I will use Tim's request to practice what I teach, so to speak. That is always a good practice for a writing teacher. I suspect that lots of teachers are fine creating assignments and fine assessing them, but actually writing the essay or poem or report? Not so much.

The first step for me will be to list some key moments and incidents and situations or teams, and also to consider varying time periods. That "gathering of material" is an important step in the writing process, of course, and I always emphasize to students that they should try to "write from abundance," as famous writing coach Donald Murray always said. 

The next step is to choose what portion of that abundance will become part of THIS assignment. I have often had to remind young writers that they don't need to try to change the world in one short essay. I hope I will pay attention to that advice. Choosing one key moment is the key, and it won't be easy.

The good news is that there is always a chance to write a "next" essay or memoir. Put enough together and you have an entire book.

Tim's ongoing saga is now at approximately 300 pages, a personal history that informs and entertains and analyzes. And now he is pushing his siblings to "sign on" to a shorter but related project.

Good for him, or as our dad would say, "Good go."