Sunday, July 27, 2014

Awesome? An understatement...

“The tragedy of man is that he has developed
an intelligence eager to uncover mysteries,
but not strong enough to penetrate them.”
Hans Zinsser – Rats, Lice and History

Quickly…first impressions only:

       1.     What is the smallest thing you can imagine?
       2.     What is the largest thing you can conceive? 
       3.     Who is the oldest person on you know?
       4.     What does your best friend look like?
       5.     Where were the stove and refrigerator in the kitchen of your            home when you a teenager?

How long did it take you to ‘see’ the answer to each of these questions?  It doesn’t matter how old you are, I suspect the images came pretty rapidly to your mind…possibly as you finished reading the question.

A lot of things could be said about this, but the point here is the astonishing capacity our brains have to bring ideas…reflections really…of things ‘imagined’giving them as much credibility as though they were actually right in front of us.  Maybe the smallest thing you imagined was a grain of sand, an atom or a quark – which by the way is ONLY imaginable.  As an aside, a quark is so tiny that compared to an atom it would be a magnitude difference of the earth (atom) compared to a clenched fist (quark)! 

Maybe the largest thing was the Earth, Sun, Milky Way or Universe – which like the quark, can also ONLY be imagined!  You might have taken a moment regarding the appearance of your best friend, but were probably a bit surprised how almost instantly you were able to see the kitchen in your mind’s eye.

This little exercise happened so quickly and naturally, that you didn’t even think about what an astonishingly complex thing you just performed.  Considering you used 3-pound ‘computer’ residing inside a 7 to 8 pound box – including skin, eyes, muscles, teeth, tongue and ears – it is mind blowing!

The building blocks for this intricate system began when we were babies with ideas or impressions entering our sensory system – touch, taste, smell, sight, sound – from the outside, like sand in an hourglass, slipping in one ‘grain’ or notion at a time.

Initially, these ideas seemed isolated and disconnected, but like seeds planted in the ground, a lot was going on ‘under the surface’ – an unconscious germination, weaving together small patchworks of concepts that quietly interacted…taking on life…growing together in an ever increasing body of information. 

In the early cultivation process, it was not so clear what any of this ‘incidental’ educational programming meant, but as we began to mature, we learned to control the direction of that informational body’s growth finding ourselves attracted to different ideas, that became the world in which we now live…a world where we can imagine the smallest of elements and the largest of constructs by simply redirecting our thoughts.

When you take a moment to consider that from a fertilized egg combining our parent’s genetic code, the bodies that we inhabit were created.  Our minds matured into a few billion neurons (an estimate) interconnected in the liquid chemistry of our brains, generating electrical current, in enough of a coordinated way, to capture and retain ideas, sounds, tastes, touches and smells – accessed pretty much at will.  How does one find any vocabulary to describe the magnitude of this creation??!!  Amazing would be an understatement of the greatest degree.


A little perspective…

As astonishing as our bodies and minds are, look at this picture taken in 1990 from the Voyager 1 space probe as it was leaving our solar system.  It is a picture of the earth from a distance of 3.7 billion miles (6 billion km).  The image is called ‘The Pale Blue Dot’, and as you will note, without the arrow and inset, it would be almost impossible to see (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pale_Blue_Dot). 

The late Carl Sagan said,
       “Look…at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, 
            everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being 
            who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, 
            thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every 
            hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of 
            civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every 
            mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every 
            teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every 
            "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species 
            lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam."

Today, as you go about your daily life, note the things around you – your car and roads upon which you drive…the buildings in your town…the airplanes that fly overhead…the computer you are using…your phone…your house or apartment. 
  

All of it…every single bit of it began as a thought in someone’s mind, which found a way to gather the resources from the earth (directly or indirectly) to then create it…not doubt impressive.

And yet…as incredible and intricately interacting our system of life is…we and the minds we have been given are little more than a tiny spot of moisture, on a infinitesimally small life supporting dot in a universe inconceivably complex.

When I think about this, my brain hurts and I find no words.  Maybe the Psalmest sums it up the best for me:

“When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers,
the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;
What is man, that thou art mindful of him?
and the son of man, that thou visitest him?”
- Psalm 8:3,4

How does one then find their place?  Maybe the words of Sri Nisargadatta provide a workable sense of meaning:

“Wisdom says I am nothing
Love says I am everything. 
Between these two, my life flows.”

- ted

Sunday, July 20, 2014

WAJR Morgantown...

If music be the food of love, play on;
- William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

6 PM:  Network news.

6:05: Two 30-second spots for local furniture store and Bank.

6:06: Cue Intro <Background sound of a jet airplane taking off><music up with jet sounds fading (Herb Alpert Casino Royale: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vT4_ZVxKjEc)><Music background quieter for voice over>

“Hey there boys and girls in radio land…welcome to Night Flight, your top 40 source of music right here in Morgantown West Virginia.  This is Ted Dreisinger and I’ll be playing music and taking requests from now until 11 o’clock tonight.  So all you guys and gals out there that have a request for that someone special, or you just want to call in and say hi, I’ll be here spinning the discs just for you!”

<Theme music up for five seconds and fade for first record of the night:  “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terell: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xz-UvQYAmbg>

The next five hours top 40 music…

11:05 PM (after the news) Format changes to “after hours”…music for lovers.

12:00PM Sign-off

Memory trigger…
Clint Eastwood’s bio-pic adaptation of the Broadway Musical Jersey Boys, a chronicle of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, was about half way through when for some reason, I found my mind wandering back to WAJR, a radio studio where I spent three years playing music during college.  It was a part-time job that afforded a little extra cash for rent and an occasional night out on the town.   In those days $2.25 an hour was pretty good money for a someone “…working my way back to you babe…” er I mean, working their way through school.

The late 60s…
For context, in 1967 the Beatles were in full swing, among so many others like the Beach Boys, Gary Pucket and the Union Gap, Dianah Ross, the Stones, Spanky and our Gang, AND Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons.  The lyrics were simple, the tunes catchy and the feelings were generally pretty upbeat – find the girl/guy…love the girl/guy…defend the girl/guy, through which one would find eternal teenage bliss! 

The Beatles were the only mainstream group thoughtfully mind stretching with music from ‘Rubber Soul’ and ‘Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Heart’s club Band,’ but for the most part the music was light and airy…for the most part.

A brief haitus…
In the fall of 1968, I found myself out of school and off the air.  Not a particularly good student, I did not have the grades to stay in.  Leaving school caused me to depart Morgantown ending two years of radio work, leading my local draft board to issue an induction notice ‘join’ the U.S. Army (an acronym for Uncle Sam Ain’t Released Me Yet).   It would be three years and a tour in Vietnam, before I found myself back in a radio studio, playing much different music with the ‘on air’ name of Tom Edwards.

When I returned from the social isolation of Southeast Asia, music had taken a decidedly different turn.  I was in the war when Woodstock (1969) took place bringing people like Richie Havens, and groups such as Country Joe and the Fish, War, Chicago, Blood Sweat and Tears, and Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young – to mention just a few.  The shootings at Kent State University had happened (1970) and the country was ill at ease.  Harry Chapin and Cat Stevens were story-tellers who found their voices through song along with folk like Jim Croce.

Much of the music brought with it a grittier reality – not a lot of “…find the girl/guy…love the girl/guy…defend the girl/guy, through which one would find eternal teenage bliss!”  This transition was not as rapid as it appeared to me, but in the 13 months I was gone, the world I had left was put on static hold in my mind…the country was not, and when I returned it was like landing on a different planet.  The music seemed more open…less shallow…poetic, sometimes harsh,  reflecting sea changes in the fabric of the social conscience of American youth.

On the air again…
Nearly a year after leaving the military, I was back in school on the GI bill, working as a janitor for the college to ‘make ends meet,’ when I got an unexpected call from the program manager of WAJR asking if I would be interested in going back on the air.  It was basically the same shift with alternate Saturday nights and Sunday mornings from 6AM until 10AM.  By now, the station had moved to a new building with new ‘on air’ and ‘production’ studios…like getting a new house.

There are few things more powerful than music to return one to another place and another time.  Those years behind the microphone, playing that music, in that studio was one of the more enjoyable things I had done to that point in my life.  It was the first really independent thing I had done…something I had gotten on my own. 

That music, those artists, regardless of what went on in their personal lives, chasing the elusive golden ring of fame and fortune, in a way were my family…a kinship with the rhythm and lyrics that drove them.

Jersey Boys is a film worth seeing, regardless of getting a lukewarm reception from the critics.  If you are in my age bracket, it is more than music – it is a snapshot of a different place and a different time.  Like opening a scrapbook and seeing what you ‘looked like then.’  If you missed that era and want to simply hear music that will make you feel like stepping into the aisle and dancing a little…it is a must.

In the darkened theater as the cast performed this classic music, I found myself quietly singing along to familiar lyrics and seeing in my minds eye flashes of the people and places this music represented.

11:59PM Cue intro: <fade theme music up for 10 seconds><Music fade down for voice over…>

“And so we bring to a close our _____ continuous day of broadcasting….This is Tom Edwards for WAJR 1440 on your radio dial.  Good night.”


<Music up for 10 seconds and fade to silence…>

- ted

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

“(Fame) I'm gonna live forever
Baby, remember my name…”
Lyrics Jacques Levy –
Musical Fame

The electric shaver hummed as I moved it to the left side of my face, when I glanced up and first noticed.

In fact it was a bit startling, not just because it was so apparent, but also because it had eluded me, unseen for so long – my whole life in fact.  There is no other way to say this, but this morning when I looked in the mirror, my father was staring back at me!

My dad!!  What the heck was he doing there?!

In that moment, it seemed odd that I hadn’t seen it before.  I mean, in reality I have performed this ritual thousands of times.  Maybe I hadn’t taken notice, because shaving is one of those oft repeated, thoughtless habits one performs…you know, routine activities – wandering minds.

Little doubt, however, for those brief moments, ‘he’ had my attention.

This event brought to mind what I have heard said for decades by folk in their goldenthoughtfulmatureseniorless relevant hmmm, I know, “we have survived and are still on the planet” years – yeah, that’s it! 

You have heard it too:

“When I looked in the mirror today, I wondered who that old man/woman was staring back at me.  I know I’m _____ (fill in the blank), but I don’t feel like I’m that old!”

Not much thought given…
I am not often reminded the years are slipping by with the increasing velocity of a brakeless, runaway freight train, maybe because there is still plenty to occupy my mind…places to go…people to see, OR maybe because if there is nothing to do, I make an effort to manufacture projects to occupy my time.

This morning there was none of that, and for the briefest of moments I saw my father as a 67-year-old man…a tired looking 67-year-old man…staring at me with equal curiosity.

Older people I know, talk about the depressingly unrelenting markers in their lives.  Decade birthdays, are a common example:

“Man,” they say, “I just turned 30.  My life is over!” or

“People tell me, life begins at 40, but it seems to me this is a long way from a beginning!”

For me, those decade markers slipped by like any other day – no feelings of passing milestones…no moments of reflective melancholy…no sense that youth or middle age were gone forever.

Nope!  If anything reminds me that time has slipped by it is an old high school classmate telling me they are grandparents, or by now great grandparents!  There are a few others that have drawn my attention to the current period I occupy in life’s expedition – but not many.

The thing is - the ‘I’ – the little creature/soul/life energy who lives inside of me doesn’t feel any age at all…I simply am!  If I were to try and express it, as I look out the windows of the ‘organic mud house’ in which I live, I do not feel any different now than I did when I was 5 or 10 or 40 or 60! 

Of course, my body is older…it’s batteries slowly running down in spite of a daily – or rather nightly – recharge.  Regardless of all the rejuvenating activity that occurs when we sleep, it seems that even the best ‘genetic rechargeables,’ imperceptibly reduce their capacity to fully refill, and over time physical capacity diminishes.

It is also true that I have learned a lot more stuff since I was a youngster, and little doubt the things I have put in my mind influence the things that I do, or do not do.

BUT in the context of life in this world, I truly see myself as a timeless passenger sitting in the control room of a piece of living protoplasm identified as ‘Ted,’ pushing buttons, pulling levers and filling the hard drives with information that provides my ‘space suit’ nourishment, protection from the elements and built in routines, many of which run on automatic pilot (e.g. breathing, heartbeat, digestion, injury repair, disease destruction, among so many others), permitting ‘me’ to focus on other things…you know like shaving!

Seeing my ‘father’ in the mirror was startling, because regardless of the unrelenting effects of time and gravity, I still face life with the same optimism and excitement I always have.   Maybe the ‘garment’ I have worn for so many decades is dog-eared and a little thin around the edges…BUT a garment nonetheless – nothing more than the address where I have spent my life. 

It won’t be too awfully long now, when I will be looking for a new residence…a fresh place to live…a home where I can peek out through a another set of windows to see what lies just outside…a place where I will fill the hard drives with new and interesting information.

I wonder if there will be mirrors?


- ted

Sunday, July 6, 2014

Hamburgers, hotdogs and sacrifice...

Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction.
We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream.
It must be fought for, protected, and handed
on for them to do the same.
–Ronald Regan
40th President of the U.S.


The temperature was in the mid 80s (29C) on its way to 107 (41.6C) the morning before this 4th of July long weekend.

“Have a great day honey.” She kissed the little girl and was off to her day.

I had finished lifting weights and was waiting for Molly to end something called ‘Boot Camp’ - something to do with using a lot of different muscles in a variety of exercise activities.  I had taken a chair in the lobby of the YMCA and just started reading a book on my phone, when at table a few feet in front of me began registering children for the YMCA Day Camp.

It was a freezing winter’s night…Christmas Eve to be more correct that accounted for part of this weekend’s celebration.  It is hard to imagine during this time of year what it must have been like to be losing the war and feeling like there was no hope, because for those soldiers, on that night it must have felt like the last gasp of what appeared to be a losing cause.

They came in tee shirts and jeans and shorts and tennis shoes…some with socks and some without, all clutching a bag or backpack with the things they would need for the day.  Some clung closely to their parents, others stood a bit aloof, kind of like they were embarrassed to be with the adult member of their families.  Without exception, however, there was the conflicting look in their eyes of excitement and a bit of uncertainty for what was to come.

There were supposed to be 5,400 troops in the surprise attack of the heavily fortified city, but 3,000 missed arriving at the appointed time, leaving a group of 2,400 freezing cold soldiers who had crossed the half frozen river at 11PM and marched all night – poorly equipped, hungry and tired.

A few of the adults took the lead and moved their charges along in line.  For others, however, the child enthusiastically engaged their parent in a ‘hurry up…let’s get going’ dance.  Once hugs, pats on the head or quick kisses on the cheek were done, the adults turned to leave for the day as the kids headed down the hall. 

The attack began at 8AM, completely surprising the German forces that held the heavily fortified town.  Swiftly, Trenton was taken with the loss of only four Americans and the capture of nearly 1,000 enemy.

The parent’s expressions transformed immediately as they changed the channels of their internal hard drives and appeared to focus on the day ahead.  It felt like, “Okay, that’s off the list…next?!”  One could imagine as they left the building to get in their cars for the day, they were considering what they would do and where they might go on the long holiday weekend.

While from a strategic point of view, the victory at Trenton was not so important, winning that battle may have been a turning point for the morale of the Continental Army contributing to the ultimate American victory.   Winning against the British had never been guaranteed; in fact for many in the colonies, fighting the greatest power in the world was a fools errand.

The kids?  Without exception they had that contradictory look of excitement and a bit of uncertainty for what was to come.  There was little doubt, however, they were not changing channels.  The YMCA network was on their internal television screens and there it would stay until the end of the day.

The children had a structured day of play and the parents a chance to prepare for a weekend.  The next day began the 4th of July, in this country...a time to gather friends and family together, eat food, drink ice tea, soda pop, beer and watch some fireworks to top it all off.

While the declaration of Independence is celebrated on July 4th, the day it was approved by the Continental Congress, the document was not signed until August 22nd, with a number of signers adding their names at a later date...the formal treaty not signed until seven years later at the Treaty of Paris, September 3rd, 1783.

So this weekend we celebrate our freedom, living in a country that was born from an idea…no oligarchy…no tyrant…no powerful family, but an idea.  The idea that men and women should have the opportunity for self-determination, that children should be able to grow up safely and be educated, that each of us in our own way should have the freedom to pursue happiness.  This country, for its many faults, hypocrisies, violence, and self-indulgences, still, in the balance of world humanity, is a beacon of freedom and opportunity.

There is another thing about this country that draws people from all over the world, and that is the opportunity to imagine something and from that imagination bring to life an idea.  It is not that other people in other places do not have imagination, but the petri dish of the American experiment permits one to see what could be, and despite obstacles, bring it into being.  We are a country of forward-looking people, people of all races, nationalities, cultures and religions…

This could not have been better demonstrated than Washington’s taking of Trenton New Jersey on that Christmas Eve, when it appeared to most Americans that the British would win the war.  That Christmas Eve was December of 1776; months AFTER the declaration had been ratified (July 4th) and signed (August 22nd).  On paper, the war was lost…in the minds of Washington and others?  Not while they still had breath…not while the idea was still burning in their breasts!

We…our children…have much to be grateful this weekend holiday.  While the kids play and we watch the ‘safe bombshells’ of fireworks displays, others in other places are not so secure…the bombshells they see – not so safe. 


Let us be mindful that then as now, our freedom has come at a price - from the freezing cold of America’s birth and every other time and place we have found those so dedicated to the ‘ideas’ that birthed this great nation, they have been willing to sacrifice all.  So while we are a people of ‘forward lookers,’ let us look back for a moment to be thankful for cold winter nights and the strength of an idea.

- ted