Sometimes I think they sort too early

I believe there is a reason depictions of the Devil often show him carrying a fork. Likely there are a skew of reasons, but the one that occurs to me is how forks in the road we travel can sometimes place us on a path we did not intend.

As a long time fan of the Arizona State Sun Devils, I am familiar with the cheer 'Fork 'em Devils'.  How appropriate for me, I have had a lot of forks in my travels through life, and some of my decisions upon reaching those forks have not always been the best choices.  My brothers were asking me the other day....what year did you graduate from ASU....and I am almost sure they were shocked at my answer....I did not graduate.  What brilliant fork decision could have led me to that status? Was I 'forked' over?

I live with my decisions, I own them...for better or worse.  Any forks I chose which would have led me to any other path besides the one that led me to be husband to my wife or father to my daughters, and later to being a patriarch for my grandchildren could not arrive with any significant regrets, could they?  Upon my honor, I think not.

Yet, it was not, is not, has not been an easy path.  The stress I placed upon my family with some of my decisions could be measured if it was put under a microscope. But this blog entry is not about putting my decisions under a microscope. Not at this point.

I wanted to ask you which decisions in life are irreversible? Certainly, my decisions that led me to not have a University degree are certainly reversible. Indeed, I have the power to overcome that if I choose.  So, which ones are irreversible I ask a second time?  Marriage decisions? The decisions to have children? Lifestyle decisions? Life and death decisions?

I think there are some irreversible decisions that we can make.  But I also think there are traps we can put ourselves in that we might think are irreversible, but perhaps we 'sort too early' sometimes.

I'm still being too general, I know.

So, let me be more specific.  This, from my youth...

I remember a very sad day from my youth.  A hard day at home led me to think my only option was to run away. I had no job, no where to go, no one to turn to. So I thought I would just run away.  I had wanted to know how I could support myself, and one thought I had was to turn to a life of crime. That day, I experimented around with doing some pretty significant shop-lifting to see how good I could support myself through a life of crime.  I turned out to be pretty good.  I was able to successfully lift several items over a day in time, and I felt that perhaps I could get away with this if I needed to. Items included food stuffs, clothes, and other essentials.

After a day in this mode, my temper cooled and my loneliness flared and I ended up going back home. My decision to lead a life of crime to support myself had come to a temporary end.

I had entertained my criminal side for the better part of a day. But, was I now a 'criminal'?  I showed that I was good at it, even though I had also shown I was not too good at living a criminal lifestyle. If that 'crime spree' defined me for a day, did it define me for all of my life?

Believe it or not, I have other examples. I can give some examples of several other vices that I embraced during my difficult youth. You may be surprised.

But which of those vices marked me for life? Which ones define me now?

For any youth reading this blog, today.... I want to ask you the same question.  What single act, or even series of act defines you?  Will you chose to let these acts define you forever. Do your paths converge and become one-way lanes...or can you back up to the fork? Can you hop on another road?

I have another story to tell.

My travelling buddy and I wanted to travel to Utah from San Francisco to see a buddy that lived in Provo.  We decided to hop on a freight train to get us from point A to point B. Asking around, we determined that the Oakland Freight Yard had some trains scheduled to go East.  Checking around the yard, we met a lineman who told us what train was headed toward Salt Lake City. He even offered to let us crash in his camper until the train was ready to depart.  That night, he knocked on the camper door and pointed us to the right freight train.

The trip, though a little grimy, ended up being spectacular. The train traveled through the Sierras and through the Lake Tahoe area. It meandered along the Great Salt lake and we were able to see beautiful country that we otherwise would have missed. Once we arrived in the Ogden, Utah yard...we were caught by yard security and tossed from the yard. We did not quite make it to Provo, but our thumb took us there.

Later on the trip, I happened to stay with some cousins in Ft. Branch Indiana. They asked about my trip and I told them stories, like the story above. They looked at me in awe, and said...you were pretty much a 'bum' then.  I thought about that then, as I do now. Was I a 'bum', a 'hobo', 'homeless'?  I suppose each of those adjectives did describe me. The definition fit.  But did that one label define who I was. 

Does the label you have chosen, or the label that chose you define you? At what point does the label become the truth of who you are? 

Cheers, nca

October 1 In Las Vegas

My heart does go out to the victims and loved ones of the tragedy in Las Vegas on October 1.  These destruction crazy lunatics just keep on breaking our hearts. I somehow think of the quote 'Bury my heart at Wounded Knee', another tragedy from another time.  That I have authored or participated on other blogs on this very subject speaks about these times in which I now journal. Whatever unfathomable notions that drive these hurtful actions to be contemplated by human beings stumps my brain beyond belief.

Republicans and the NRA have just recently both come out supportive about putting restrictions on 'bump fire stocks'.  As I mentioned in a previous blog, I think there needs to be more conversations about what controls can be added without upsetting the die-hard 2 Amendment supporters.  I can't help feeling that more can be done if we all really put our thinking caps on.

I read an article recently about Caleb Keeter of the Josh Abbott Band. His band performed at the tragic  Route 91 Harvest festival in Las Vegas on 10/01/2017, so he was a witness to the senseless violence.  Quoting Mr. Keeter, "“I’ve been a proponent of the 2nd amendment my entire life...Until the events of last night. I cannot express how wrong I was.” Several articles go on to discuss the NRA and it's supporting role in Country Music. 

A danger of course, is the NRA has very powerful influence across America.  The NRA speaks for a large number of Americans who are highly guarded against limiting any vestige of firearm limitations.  Conservative leadership is very careful to avoid crossing the NRA and the gun lobby, and that is understandable.  The freedom to bear arms is woven into our culture along with our other inalienable rights. I understand that. The fact that the NRA took a stand against bump fire stocks tells me that intelligent discussions can be had; this is a very positive sign for me.  But I do think much more can be done if we put our minds to it.

I have mentioned before that I have had some training on firearms, I even have a fondness for these items. But I have chosen to not have any firearms in my house to this date.  I raised my daughters and protected my family without the benefit of lethal weapons. I pray daily for the safety of my loved ones, and I feel that my prayers have been heard. For now, that has been enough protection for me. My thoughts about owning firearms for protection are tempered by a small voice that tells me that I don't want to ever use a weapon against another human, and that I know I could not live with one of my loved ones accidentally using my weapon to hurt another of my loved ones.  That would be beyond any pain that I could possibly endure. I hear people say 'if I raise my children to respect guns, they would never use it inappropriately', and I just don't buy into that particular notion. I was a boy, I think a very typical boy, and I know that s*** happens.  The temptation is just too big for some children that I would not want to bet their precious lives on 'teaching them to respect' a weapon that can do such heart-breaking damage.

It is interesting to me that one family member of mine has had two weapons stolen out of his vehicles. That is two lethal weapons out on the street available to inflict even more pain.  And he is probably one of the most responsible of my family members when it comes to firearms. Even his diligence and training has not prevented odd items of  unforeseeable consequence from occurring. The randomness of that alone tells me that our world needs a few more controls to protect us from our own foibles. And our world needs quite a bit more common sense advocated.

I guess I am asking each of you, dear readers, to have an open mind when it comes to discussing sensible, doable, gun control rules.  Do considerable contemplation on what controls can be achievable and make sense.  Think about locking up your guns, keeping ammunition separated as much as you can and still provide you the safety you feel that you need.  And, remember that prayers are very much stronger than bullets. I truly believe that.

Let's use this example of the 'bump fire stocks' to stoke more conversations about controls that do make sense. Limitations of magazine size? Limitations on various extremely lethal ammunition or weapon types? Locking down gun sales at gun shows?  I am not an expert on this discussion, but I know some of you are, I just know that more can be done if we put our minds (and prayers) toward a common goal...seeking sensible ways to reduce the damage these insane and destructive ne'er-do-wells can inflict upon those people we love.

Cheers---nca

How Firm A Foundation II

I remember a dear colleague of mine, many years back describing herself as a 'Recovering Catholic'. I remember laughing with her and agreeing that I too, was a 'Recovering Catholic'.  It was an easy concept to laugh at.  There were definitive aspects of our shared upbringing as Parochial School Catholics that we could instantly relate to.

Originally I was  amazed at the number of Catholics in my chosen profession. I have long since stopped being surprised when I am introduced to a new 'Cobol' Developer that had roots in Catholicism, there is something about the structure, logic, and precision of Cobol working with Relational Databases that attracts the Parochial trained mind.  Someday I may write a blog studying this more.

Regardless of the cause, my Parochial upbringing was a very powerful and direct influence upon me, lifelong. Though, it has been decades since I have considered myself Catholic, the aspects of Catholicism that continue to effect my life are countless.

What I learned about Mathematics and Algebra, I learned in Elementary School, St. Thomas the Apostle Catholic School in Phoenix Arizona provided me a firm foundation in those two key tools. Mathematics and being a Cobol developer go hand in hand. My mind is geared toward pretty and precise If-Then logic. For my mind, there is an algorithmic solution for every technical or business problem. That I try to instill this formula for problem solving in my personal life may not always be as successful, but I never fail to try to apply it.  I know that my Parochial upbringing was a big part of me being able to support myself and my family for all these years. And from the number of Catholics in my profession, I don't think this was unique for me.

There is more Catholic in my makeup than just the logic I use in my occupation.  'Catholic Guilt' courses through my veins as one of my chief moral drivers. I am a living breathing example of 'Catholic Guilt'.  I am loyal to my Children and wife, I am loyal to my siblings, any personal challenge to that loyalty triggers the 'Guilt' gene in my like an ignition switch. My 'Recovering' friend would laugh at this part of me if she were to read this now, like this 'guilt' is some type of curse.  I guess I have learned to come to grips with this part of myself.  At this later stage in my life, I start to look back at the precept of  'Catholic Guilt' as a productive guiding part of me. I am proud to be dedicated to the institution of family, the preservation of that institution to me is a noble endeavor. When I look at some of the countries where Catholicism is prevalent, like south of our border, or Italy...I see that institution of family has been put on a pedestal. Grandparents, the elderly, are treated with respect and kindness. Children are protected and cherished. Large, close knit families are not mocked and abused, rather they are admired and cherished.   I fail to see this as a negative outcome of 'Catholic' Guilt. That my moral compass is influenced from the Catholic upbringing can not be denied, and I would not want it to be denied.

I believe my parents raised me as best they could. They chose to raise me within the boundaries of their faith. My father was raised a Catholic, and my Mom adopted Catholicism as a married adult.  At times when I choose to view my parents through my 20/20 hindsight, all their mistakes and blemishes are so very clear and obvious. It becomes so easy for me to itemize all their faults.  But they did not have the luxury of 20/20 hindsight as they were fostering us through out our lives, putting their parenthood skills to the test.  That they turned to the Catholic Church for help in building my moral character means that they did have faith in the family unit, enough faith to entrust me and my siblings to the teachings that they understood to be the best for us as a family. It also meant they had faith in Our Father in Heaven, and in his begotten Son,  such faith that they chose to add those helping hands into our lives. This is no small thing. It took a great deal of sacrifice of their time, their Sundays, and their budget to educate and indoctrinate my siblings and myself.  If I look at my seven living brothers and sisters, I see that miracles did happen. That each of us were able to raise ourselves up out of poverty and to build our own families with moral character and with faith. This is no small accomplishment from such humble beginnings.

Occasionally I hear a judgment  passed upon organized Religion concerning raising children within the loving arms of faith.  The judgement is some variation of 'I prefer to let my children learn religion at their own pace, as they are ready for it, and without my guidance or leanings'.  I believe I understand that concept, and I see some value in it.  But, as I look at how I was raised, and how I raised my daughters, and how my grandchildren are being raised, I am not sure that is the only way to raise children. Yes, it may be fine for others, it is not for me to judge. But for me, and mine, I feel that a parent wishing to add faith to the mix when raising children is perfectly within his rights as a parent.  I believe that faith is a virtue, and that sharing faith can be an act of love passed parent to child.  I believe Children may choose to reject that Faith, move on to other Faiths, or perhaps even adopt that Faith in their lives as they move to their own adulthood. But the foundation of Faith provided and taught by the parents, when it is done with respect and love for the child, is also of great value.

For my parents, for their choices and for all the work they did in raising my siblings and myself...I have the greatest love and am gaining greater understanding, day by day. Thanks Mom and Dan. :)

Cheers, nca