Re: Service

Service can ‘be’ something and it can relate to ‘doing’ something. As a noun: Before I married my first wife it was de rigueur to register at a china shop so you had fancy plates and a proper tea service. A service starts a tennis rally. As a verb: My dad serviced aircraft while in the armed forces during WWII.

Recently I’ve been exposed to different levels of service from various workers who have been part of a renovation in my home. I was aggravated by a salesperson when purchasing a washer/dryer combo who wanted to push the sale of an extra service contract rather than attend to my need for a quality product. My wife and I chose a contractor for the job carefully. We wanted to forecast a high level of quality service to take away the anxiety that comes from a remodelling job. My opinion of tradespeople has always been high. Plumbing and electrical work takes knowledge, skill and care. Some workers at our reno provided service with a smile yet lacked attention to detail. Others have been so proud of their occupation that their service to their task and to their client has been exceptional.

I take my car in for regular servicing. I used to do oil changes and other upkeep stuff myself, but now I wouldn’t know how to do a good job with a modern vehicle. There is a maintenance schedule to follow and I stick to it in order to validate my warrantee. Before I bought the car I checked out their service department. I chose well. Every time I go in I feel like someone who owns Downton Abbey.

We live in a self-serve era yet we still depend on the service of others. Many service jobs are considered too menial. Some service jobs have been eliminated by computer robotics and others have shifted to higher tech. Where would most offices be these days without their IT department? Rarely do we see ‘full-service’ gas stations. As a kid I remember getting a free balloon every time I went with my dad to his favourite petrol pit stop.

Community service has always been important to me. We often hear the phrase, “I want to give back…” when someone feels grateful. I’m part of that club since I wish to pay it forward by volunteering or serving on committees. Many still have the weekly habit of attending a religious service. I used to spend a lot of time helping out at my community church. That was a case of serving at a service. I’m proud to say that sometimes others trusted me to such a degree that I conducted the entire service.

Some say that providing service to others is our highest calling. To be a servant need not suggest being below another. Perhaps the act of serving has more to do with taking the focus off ourselves and applying effort towards the greater whole. Even the powerful and mighty can learn this lesson. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVjE99phqYk

Re: Friend

‘A friend in need is a friend indeed’ is the first proverb that comes to mind when I think of the word Friend. It relates to my belief that friendship is important when a person can’t go it alone because of current circumstances. I admit to being a DIY person in the general sense: I get satisfaction from doing it (life) myself. I also recognize that being an individualist can make me appear unfriendly.

I had a best friend. Through grades 7&8 my mom described us as ‘thick as thieves’. I thought he was going to be my BFF but I moved to another city for high school and saw him rarely. We planned a trip to Europe for our gap year but he pulled out at the last minute. Later I reached out to him to be my best man at my first wedding and he declined. My sons still tease me about my lack of friends with, “Whatever happened to Horst?”.

I appreciate this song by James Taylor because it was on my playlist during my only summer romance. She was a friend from far away that got away, despite my willing her to be nearer. I used to sit in my used VW beetle to read her letters then go home and play my Tapestry album. The poignant lyric, “they’ll take your soul if you let them.” still haunts when I hear it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xEkIou3WFnM

The best advise I ever got was to be my own best friend. Friendship comes with expectations that others can’t necessarily fill. I can count on myself. I rarely have let myself down. I don’t say that because I feel superior. Friendship requires a lot of trust and effort. Alas, I am wary and lazy. My two beautiful wives have been my bestest of friends. I am an exclusive friend because it brings me security. Seems I haven’t got the energy that some have to spread their love around. I actually admire people who need people or can love the one they’re with. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XeTGln5XGTE

On film it appears as though women set the bar for friendliness. I tend to enjoy conversations with women over men because we are more likely to seek similarities than differences. To me the friendliest and most stimulating conversations are about ideas. The people I would call my friends value the positive in life. I recognized myself in the character Sandra Oh played on Grey’s Anatomy with this scene where she admits she needs someone.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9DN4Dw3tyLY

My niece recently reached out to me. She said someone told her she needed a ‘rock’. I was flattered, humbled and frightened at the same time. Could I fulfill her expectations? The request required the elements I consider part of friendship: empathy, kindness, discretion, availability, resources. You can deliver some of these qualities to an acquaintance, but a friend, a true blue friend, will need them in abundance. That can be exhausting.

Re: Phobia

The word Phobia is actually a suffix that has morphed into a word through common usage. You might say someone is phobic if they are demonstrating anxiety. A person may tell you they have a phobia to something. Both Phobia and Phobic can be words used to exaggerate the fear that someone feels. Lucy tries to explain phobias in this scene from A Charlie Brown Christmas. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8SDztycKwY

I don’t like to admit I’m fearful. That’s like showing your hand in a card game. My fears don’t tend to limit me in the pursuit of a fulfilling life. I believe that’s where phobias come in: When your fears direct you to stop normal functions. I’ll admit to feeling discomfort over certain things that, in the extreme, might be phobias. For example: I don’t enjoy crowds (enochlophobia), I like to be inside before dark (noctiphobia), I avoid tight spaces (claustrophobia). The latter fear I can trace back to a bizarre game my mom and dad used to inflict on me when I was very young. When I asked to jump into their bed on a weekend morning they would wedge me with their elbows between their bodies so I couldn’t escape. Tough to know why I would ever come back for more of that but to this day it’s a challenge for me to stand in a packed subway car.

We have hired someone to renovate our bathroom. The workers’ first day on the job was a highly anxious time for me. Despite being confident about the decision to go ahead with this project, the noise and numbers of people involved produced a fear of the future reaction. What will they find behind the walls? Will they break anything important? Is it going to cost me more than budgeted? I know I’m not alone when it comes to Chronophobia, especially in the Anthropocene Age. It seems hard to look positively to the coming days in our current climate, political or otherwise.

The politics of fear cannot help us make good decisions yet this is the currency used by many to buy our vote. Xenophobia is a word that is being used to legitimize racist statements and activities. Our cave dwelling relatives had reason to fear others. In our modern world we need others, we need the collective, we need diversity, if we are to continue to survive as a species.

The antonym of Phobic is Phile. I’d rather promote the latter as a way to describe my positive nature. I love books, so I am a Bibliophile. I appreciate the artistry in clocks, so I am a Chronometrophile. I thoroughly enjoy film so I call myself a Cinephile. I’m proud of my heritage despite its flaws so I am an Anglophile.

There are just as many Phobias as there are Philes. Two sides of the same coin so to speak. We must find balance yet when our fears dominate let’s hope there is someone to watch over us. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y92LxyuNFZ0

Re: Rule

The first time I played Scrabble with my future mother-in-law I told her about our modified house rules. She said, “Hmm, I’ll stick to the original ones.” Changing the rules for playing a game brings me pleasure. I’m not a ‘Rules are Meant to be Broken’ advocate yet I think they are meant to be tested. How else do you know it’s a good rule?

On a visit to the Tate Modern Gallery in London, England I was closely watched by the security team after I had been reminded by an official to not touch a statue. I had ignored the sign; ‘Please do not touch the works of art on display. Even clean hands can damage surfaces.’ I felt compelled by the sensuous curve of the metal and stone fabrication. Shame on me.

Making your own set of rules and keeping them consistently can be a difficult proposition. Self imposed rules are hard to make and hard to keep. We all have some personal rules that we keep sacred; like never lie, never cheat etc. I try to keep the special set of rules which I live by in order to feel I can be trusted by others. It is important for me to be dependable so my opinion can have a high level of credibility. A set of rules can enhance my personal authority. But what is authority anyway?

Cultural rules can change quickly. It didn’t take long for cigarette smoking to turn from ‘anywhere, anytime’ to a strictly regulated behaviour. We still use the expression ‘Rule of Thumb’ when we talk about a baseline for behaviour yet the origin of that phrase came from the thickness of wooden rod a husband could legally use to beat his wife. I remember Sadie Hawkins events when I went to high school; making a ceremony out of women choosing who they might date while restricting the amount of female participation in the game of love. Now we have relevant discussions about consent within a #metoo focus.

In democratic countries we elect our Rulers; those who we allow to have authority over us. Previous generations were instructed to have respect for the Ruling Class. To be loyal to their King and Country. ‘Rule Britannia’, as an example of colonialist fervour, was positive for only a few. ‘Make America Great Again’, as a slogan, can also be an expression of a rule of engagement that creates imbalance in the great wide and diverse world that we currently share. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=akbzRuZmqVM .

Often we don’t get a choice in politics. We may choose to believe that we collectively put our leaders on the metaphorical throne but in today’s world it is truer to acknowledge that others behind the scenes really control political outcomes. As a result of this interference with the rules of law, we find ourselves with rulers who may flout what many of us see as important rules of etiquette. Perhaps we collectively need to get better at who we select to be the boss of us.

Re: Stubborn

This word’s structure is smile worthy. Two syllables; stub and born. In a quick dictionary search I found the word is listed as having no origin. I take this to mean that someone blindly made it up during a swearing tirade after having born the pain of a stubbed toe. Anyways, that’s what I would go with, if it came up while playing Balderdash.

I’m a person who admires perseverance, the sweet cousin of stubbornness, even if I lack it in some situations. I once quit a Bronze Level Red Cross swimming program after the first session. I neither had the mental stick-to-it-ness nor the physical stamina required to be a life guard-in-training. An Olympic level athlete has to be gold medal stubborn. Just like striving for the podium however, an unbending position comes at a cost, or at least a consequence. I try to take my time developing an opinion. Once it is set in stone it’s more difficult to retract. Most often in a conflict of interest situation, when my idea isn’t part of the groupthink, I will retreat and find my own ship to captain. Passive/aggressive stubbornness?

The value of stubbornness and its costs is depicted well in the film, ‘Sometimes a Great Notion’. Here, a hard scrabble west coast family owns a logging operation during a state wide strike. In a gasping portrayal of our environmental times we see several scenes of the rape of the planet for profit. Lives are altered, even extinguished in the dogged quest to fulfill a contract. The family motto is; “Never Give a (sic) Inch”. There is added tension when the prodigal son, a hippy, returns home. We watch and wonder if he will bring change. Alas he joins the foolishness of exploitation. The final scene gives us a literal middle finger from the patriarchal arm raised as the family’s tugboat pulls logs to market. The human multitude, following on the banks of the river, only shout and wave their fists at the injustice. I saw a parallel to today’s industrial titans, continuing their wasteful and polluting ways in the name of profit, stubbornly never giving an inch.

Being bull headed or stubborn as a mule can make you as immovable as a rock. Yet a rock can be covered in Rock,Paper,Scissors. A rock can erode over time. A rock can even be sold as a pet. To some, stubbornness is a manly virtue, where you stand tall, face to the wind, unbending until you crack, never backing down. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nvlTJrNJ5lA

Being a stubborn force in the world can make you an oak, a rock, an island or a wall. There’s unfairness here in amongst the stubborn, foolish pride of going it alone. The barriers you put up may close in on you as readily as they keep others out. Paradoxically, in my own stubbornness, I feel the greatest need to touch and be touched. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JKlSVNxLB-A

Re: Style

Like everyone, I have a personal style that is hard to label. I am clean-shaven and my wife generously cuts my curly head of hair when it gets unruly. I have clothes from Mark’s Work Wearhouse in my closet (like blue jeans, some things never go out of style). I don’t wear a watch and I have two special rings on my hands. My lifestyle does not include regular exercise yet I choose to walk when practical. I eat to live and choose quickly heated processed foods when I feed myself. Unlike my father, I doubt anyone would call me stylish although I believe I have a certain captivating charm.

Style is really about how we define ourselves. It may be the most important part of our adolescence. We may not wish to be a fashion trend-setter, or even to be noticed at all but coming of age requires we have a definition, at least one that we can be satisfied with for the moment. I was a loner in high school. Most of the time I wore twill cotton white pants with five copies of the same shirt; a different colour for each day of the week. Oh boy!

I recently enjoyed the Amazon Prime television series called ‘The Collection’. It got me thinking about the reasons people choose to dress the way they do. In post WWII Paris, style was equated with beauty. If you had a stylish designer outfit you got noticed. Sometimes this attention was unwanted or even dangerous. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hsmJ5-LgiZ0

Perhaps we go for a certain style because we just want to belong, not to stand out. My late wife got a chance to have a classic ‘bob’ hairstyle back in the early 1970s by Vidal Sassoon himself. Being a modest person and certainly not flashy in her choices this surprised me at the time. I remember her saying that it was a brief opportunity for her to be part of the ‘In Crowd’.

When I was in my early 30s and still boyish looking I felt the need to grow a beard. I had the impression that a bearded man got more respect.
It didn’t work. It made me wonder if some get a tattoo to change how they are perceived. Do we adorn ourselves for another’s sake or for our own
amusement/security/satisfaction? Once a family member was noticed wearing two unmatched socks. When it was remarked on she said, “That’s my style.” Perhaps her response deflected unwanted attention or perhaps she was happy someone noticed.

That’s the thing about stylistic choices. How we decorate ourselves, what music we listen to, what food we eat is revealing, whether we like it or not. Our personal style gives others clues as to our identity. Unless we try to be anonymous, to fly under the radar or to keep a low profile, we will be noticed. It’s risky broadcasting who we are, but worth it. Be loud, proud and beautiful!
Go full Gangnam style. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMFt1yW7_wA

Re: Thought

Choosing a name for a newborn takes a lot of thought. You are considering family tradition, links to ancestors and meaning. You want the name to stand for something, maybe even be an influence on your child’s behaviour. I heard a story once that some North American indigenous tribes wait until their young ones have developed a personality before using that information to guide them to the best name.

I’ve often wondered if we grow into the name given us or does our name actually determine who we become. Chicken or egg? If I had a child now I think I would use Keagan (somewhat gender neutral). It is Irish for Thinker. If a name makes the person then I would like my son or daughter to be thoughtful. I would like them to aspire to grow up to be one of the world’s great thinkers: another Plato, Da Vinci, Galileo, Darwin, Einstein, Hawking. Philosophy, at its heart, is the science of thinking and I think the world is in need of more philosophers right now.

Ideology has been given a bad name. Ideologists are considered to be rigid and narrow minded. Ideology has merged with dogma or doctrine and in the minds of many the term suggests a political platform. Too bad really, because if philosophy is all about thinking then ideology is more rightfully described as the science of ideas. And what’s not to like about ideas?

My father loved ideas and one of the most fun things we would do together was play variations of “What if?”. Nothing was out of bounds in this game of suppose. My dad encouraged me to think for myself in an imaginative way. He loved reading to me excerpts from Plato’s Republic. Looking back, I imagine myself as Aristotle on my father’s Plato-like lap. He would often remind me by words and action of Socrates, the founder of Philosophy who suggested that; “The unexamined life is not worth living.”

Parallel to this thought based strategy of child rearing, my more practical mom would be forever watchful to see if I was using me noggin. One of the worst things I could do as a child, in my mom’s eyes, would be a result of a thoughtless action. “What were you thinking?” I can still hear her saying as she rained disappointment down on me. If she caught me in the process of carrying out something suspicious she might warn/advise/rebuke, “If that’s your plan, then you’ve got another think coming.” Building yet another layer of responsibility onto the skin of her son, my mom would insist that whatever I intended; “It must be the thought that counts.”

I maintain that erring on the side of sharing a thought is my best bet. Yet sometimes it is wise to keep a thought to myself at least until I’ve had those all important second thoughts. I believe thinking before an event creates well conceived plans. Sharing my thoughts with someone is the greatest gift I can give. Only listening ranks higher as an offering.