We oldsters sometimes wonder whether changes we’ve seen have been good or bad for society. Many have been good, contributing to our wellbeing, e.g.:
· Houses and work places are more comfortable, food selections are greater and of higher quality, transportation is faster and safer, and growth of the total body of knowledge has mushroomed.
· Workplace changes have benefited both employers and employees; automated manufacturing and record-keeping devices have eased workers’ tasks and increased their productivity. (My working career predated personal computers, but exposure thereto since retirement enables me to appreciate what PCs can do for data management.)
· At home, I have enjoyed improvements in both quality and selection of entertainment equipment options. Color television is no longer considered a luxury. Even more important to me has been the growth in sound options; Arlette and I have audio equipment playing much of the time, providing quality of sound undreamed of when I was young.
Unfortunately, some developments are harmful to society, particularly those in movies and television; the moral quality of both audio and video content has declined steadily, and I think that decline has contributed to (not just reflected) the cultural decay of the latter third of the 20th century. While coarse entertainment fare contributes to cultural decay, I acknowledge that the entertainment industry didn’t start the downward slide; I think the culture started crumbling when educators (as a result of the influence of secular humanists such as John Dewey, known as the father of progressive education) succumbed to outside control mechanisms and ceased affirming (1) independent, rugged individualism and (2) moral and spiritual precepts.
Humanist Manifesto I (one of whose thirty-four
signers was John Dewey), issued in 1933, stated, among other things, that “…existing
acquisitive and profit motivated society has shown itself to be inadequate…A
socialized and cooperative economic order must be established…” (Small wonder many university faculties are
riddled with socialists!) Humanist Manifesto
II, issued forty years later, declared, “As nontheists, we begin with humans
not God, nature not deity…No deity will save us, we must save ourselves…Ethics
is autonomous and situational.”
Great universities originally established to educate men of faith now deride the principles upon which they were founded. Public schools, because of judicial activism, don’t always affirm moral absolutes (as they once did) for fear of violating someone’s concept of separation of church and state. Relative morality and situational ethics have supplanted moral absolutes in much of our culture, with consequent deleterious results.
I’ve attempted to help effect substantive changes (or prevent unwanted developments) in a few areas, through writing letters to editors and governmental officials, e.g.:
·
I think I had a part in causing Reader’s Digest to discontinue advertising alcoholic
beverages. That magazine, as a matter
of principle and out of concern for public health, never accepted tobacco ads
and didn’t accept liquor ads for some years after it started including
advertisements in its pages. After they
began accepting ads from producers of alcoholic beverages, I wrote a letter
commending them for their long-term crusade against cigarettes and concomitant
policy of refusing to accept cigarette ads, then suggested their policy
regarding ads of equally harmful alcoholic beverages wasn’t consistent. I received a letter defending their policy,
saying that moderate alcohol consumption was socially acceptable; I replied
that such was indeed the case, that smoking had also been socially acceptable
until the latter part of the twentieth century, but the facts are that both
smoking and drinking, whether or not socially acceptable, are practices that
often result in significant harm to health and life. I heard no more from Reader’s Digest, but the ads soon
ceased; other readers must have offered viewpoints similar to mine, resulting
in a decision that the magazine should be as principled about one product as
another.
·
I wrote letters opposing proposed repeal of Section 14(b)
of the Taft-Hartley Act during the ‘70s when defenders of individual states’
rights to enact “right-to-work” laws (as permitted by
the Act) feared those rights might be taken away.
Twenty
states have right-to-work laws preventing closed shops (i.e., union membership
required for all employees). In other
states one can’t work for union-organized employers without joining the union representing
its employees (or paying fees in lieu of union dues).
Presidential
candidate Jimmy Carter said (during the 1976 campaign) he would sign a bill
repealing Section 14(b) of the Taft Hartley Act if one reached his desk. A Democratic congress, generally sympathetic
with labor unions promoting repeal of 14(b), made passage of such a bill a
likely occurrence, so I joined thousands of other concerned citizens in writing
congressional representatives in opposition to repeal. I also contributed regularly to the National
Right-to-Work Committee, which lobbied Congress. Mr. Carter became president, but a bill repealing 14(b) was never
passed. I don’t have any idea how much effect
citizens’ letters or R-T-W Committee lobbying had on Congress, but the thing we
feared didn’t happen.
◊◊◊
If I had the power to do so, I would undo or remedy some of the changes I’ve seen over more than seven decades:
·
I would eliminate coarseness from books, magazines, movies,
radio, and television. I don’t see any
“redeeming social value” in profane/filthy language and behavior or gratuitous
violence. I don’t think I was deprived
by not having those things as a youngster.
·
I would cause organizations such as the American Civil Liberties Union and People for the American
Way to limit their activities to things implied by their names. Both have done good things at times, but I
believe their humanistic/atheistic agendas of modern times have been bad for our nation.
·
I would restore the language of intergenerational respect; people should address those old enough to be their
parents by their titles or as “Miss,”
“Mr.,” or “Mrs.”
·
I would have folks address each other in accordance with
their positions. A patient should
address his physician as “Doctor,” no matter how young that doctor might be,
unless the patient knew the doctor before he/she became one. Parishioners shouldn’t call their minister
by his given name, unless that name is preceded by a title (e.g., “Brother,”
“Doctor,” “Pastor”). Similarly, the
names of the president and others of high elective offices should be preceded
by their titles, out of respect for their offices, if not for their persons.
·
Hearing “sir” and “ma’am” more often would be pleasing.
I’ve never spent much time wondering about the deep
mysteries of life – e.g., who
am I, why am I here, what’s life all about?
I’ve been satisfied with the theological premise that all men are
created in God’s image, and that our highest purpose, with greatest sense of
fulfillment, is to fellowship with, serve, and glorify Him. Nevertheless, I wonder about a few things of
a less profound nature, though some, I feel, are serious; the following listing
moves from less consequential items to those more serious:
One is often asked
if he would do anything differently if he could live his life over. I’m sure I should have done many things differently, but will name a couple
of areas wherein I know I
would hope to improve my performance if given another chance:
·
I would try to concentrate more on names and faces when
introduced to people; I can never remember a name, but I always forget a face.
·
I would try
to manage money matters better. (Of
course, I now have the benefit of hindsight, something I didn’t have in real
time, so I clearly see the mistakes I made.)
- For many years Arlette and I didn’t have
money to invest, but, when our house in Abilene finally sold in late 1972 (more
than eight years after we’d moved to Little Rock) we netted about $10,000; we
bought government bonds.
- We still didn’t diversify when we became able
to save substantial parts of our salaries as the kids completed their
schooling, settling instead for fixed-return investments.
- Our first major investment in common stocks
was the purchase of two hundred shares of Wal-Mart stock in 1991; then, in the mid-‘90s we
started rolling some of our fixed-return investments into common stock mutual funds.
- I managed to goof up the Wal-Mart
venture. After owning the stock for six
years, during which its market value changed very little, we sold it to obtain
cash with which to purchase a new car.
Beginning almost immediately, as if triggered by our action, Wal-Mart
stock started a runup during which its price more than quadrupled. (Instead of flagellating myself for lack of
prescience in the Wal-Mart goofup, I’ll admit that I would probably have
unloaded the stock by the time it traded for as much as 25% above the price we
had paid for it – but even that would have made us about $2,500 for our
six-year investment of nearly $10,000, a lot better than the nominal gain
actually realized.)
Although
I made some mistakes in investment selections, I console myself with the fact
that Arlette and I at least disciplined ourselves to save, and wound up better
off financially than either of us could have expected when we were a young
couple with three children, struggling to come up with money for down payments
on a house or replacement of an old car.
I’m not going to cry over what might have been had we handled things
differently.
◊◊◊
In addition to the “what might have been” wishes
just noted, I have three wishes in the “what could not have been” category:
[I tell folks they can tell I’m on the level, because the
bubble’s in the middle!]
My
daughter Terry once suggested I purchase larger trousers. I told her that would worsen the problem,
for I could already remove my trousers without unbuckling my belt or
unbuttoning the waist. She “laughed me
to scorn,” so I slipped into a bedroom, put a swimsuit on under my jeans,
returned and said, “Watch this.”
Without unbuckling my belt, unbuttoning, or unzipping, I quickly pulled
my jeans down over hips, thighs, and knees.
Terry gasped and exclaimed, “Dad!” before noticing the swimsuit I had
donned.
My limited
playing ability developed neither early nor quickly. I memorized the fingering of parts of a few songs in my late
teens and early twenties (the only song I could play through completely was
“Jesus, Lover of My Soul”), but I didn’t know the names of either the notes or
the chords I played. Then, after
Arlette and I bought a piano (in Waco), we took several lessons before moving
to Fort Worth; during those lessons I learned “Melody of Love,” playing the
melody (in octaves) with my right hand and accompaniment (root/chord/chord)
with my left. Little further learning occurred
until after we purchased an electronic organ from Gerald Neal Piano and Organ
Company in 1967 and I attended several free evening classes conducted by Mrs.
B.J. Dunn, where she (1) gave attendees sheets showing the scales in all keys,
(2) gave “formulas” for chord structures, and (3) provided us simple sheet
music with chord names noted. Along
about that same time I ordered a 52-week Leroy Abernathy gospel piano course, from which I absorbed
little except the fact that major chords based on the first, fourth, and fifth
notes of the scale appear repetitively throughout most songs. From Terry I learned to add a 7th
when transitioning from the “five” chord back to the “one” chord. Based on that limited knowledge, I stumble
through familiar songs using only the I, IV, V, and V7 chords; my
ear sometimes tells me a minor or diminished chord might sound good at a
certain spot.
I should
note that had I been talented musically and developed that talent, I would
probably have wanted to become a professional gospel musician. That would have required extensive travel,
thus maintaining a normal home life would have been difficult, if not
impossible. Besides, I probably
wouldn’t have met Arlette.
A comic
strip I read as a kid was entitled, “Born Thirty Years too Soon.” With
respect to personal computers I was either born thirty years too soon or they
came along thirty years too late; I hadn’t seen a personal computer when I
retired in 1982, thirty years after starting my first accounting-related job.
While
I’ve used my computers for serious purposes, I must admit I’ve also used them
for frivolous, thus less than best, purposes – most notably, playing FreeCell. FreeCell can be addictive, but I’ve tried to
keep it from preventing my doing more important tasks – although I have, over
the past several years, played and won over eight thousand of the thirty-two
thousand built-in games (I keep score on an EXCEL spreadsheet).
- About 40% of the games I’ve played were
selected randomly by the computer, so, from a probability standpoint, my
experience indicates a very high percentage of the 32,000 should be
winnable. [I should note that more than
one attempt was required before I won many of the games – I played game number
31465 dozens of times before winning, and have yet to win two others (#617 and
#1941), after many failed attempts.]
- A deck of playing cards can be shuffled
into billions of billions of different sequences, so the 32,000 built into the
FreeCell software barely puts a dent in the possibilities.
The first
few computers I had (all hand-me-downs) didn’t have FreeCell, so I didn’t begin
playing the game until about the time I completed the first draft of these
writings. I don’t think I would have
let addiction to the game prevent me from recording my memories, but editing,
revising, rearranging, and rewriting may have been put off from time to time
because I was “playing.”
In
fairness to myself, I should note that I’ve played FreeCell primarily while
listening to news/talk shows on cable TV – so, assuming that I’d have listened
to the TV shows whether or not I played FreeCell, I suppose I haven’t wasted as
much time “playing” as the above paragraphs might suggest.
Another enjoyable, but practical, use of
the personal computer is in connection with the Internet’s world wide web,
which provides (1) fingertip access to all sorts of information plus (2) the
ability to communicate with others via e-mail.
I’ve used the “web” numerous times during this writing.
The previous
segment bordered on (if it didn’t actually touch) negativity, so I’ll move back
to the positive side by listing my pleasures – the things that have added
flavor to life:
I suppose every event about which I’ve written could be considered a
highlight, but I think I should list those I consider most important; the list
includes one or two items I haven’t mentioned previously:
·
As a Christian, I believe the most important thing anyone can do is to
commit himself to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. I've never regretted making that commitment early in life; any
costs thereof have been far outweighed by the benefits.
·
My greatest source of pride is in having been a World War II era
military veteran, through service in the United States Navy - willingly, but in
a minor role and without distinction.
·
My most life-changing event occurred when I left my employment with Dun
& Bradstreet to return to school and work toward becoming a CPA.
·
The most fortunate event of my life occurred July 23, 1949, when I met
the young lady who was to become my wife and the mother of our three children.
·
The most important assignment I ever accepted was responsibility for a
wife and the three children we reared.
·
The July 20, 1969 landing of men on the moon was perhaps the most
significant event I've seen, both historically and scientifically - humans
accomplishing something thought impossible just a decade earlier.
·
Three events stand out as the most tragic I've observed as they
happened, one in person, two via television.
I've told of seeing a wing come off a plane in flight (while I was in
boot camp in early 1945), then that plane hit another on the ground, killing
eleven Navy personnel. I was watching
when the Challenger space shuttle exploded shortly after blast-off on January
28, 1986. Worst was "Plane Terror
Day," the September 11, 2001 horror in New York, when terrorists flew two
commercial airliners into the twin towers of the World Trade Center, the second
of which was caught on tape, and we watched live as the towers collapsed. (Equally tragic on "9/11," but not
seen on television, were the crashes of the other two hijacked planes; one was
flown into the Pentagon and the other would have hit a fourth strategic target
had heroic passengers not intervened and diverted their plane from the
hijackers' objective, causing it to crash in a Pennsylvania pasture instead.)
· The most memorable sports event I have seen (by television, not in person) was "The Big Shootout" on December 2, 1969 between the Texas Longhorns and the Arkansas Razorbacks; both were undefeated and ranked first and second in the nation. The outcome (15-14, just as close as their rankings) determined final rankings; President Richard M. Nixon presented a national collegiate football championship trophy to Coach Darrell Royal and the Longhorns in their postgame locker room.
The most crucial offensive
play of the game was a long pass completion, from James Street to Randy
Peschel, late in the fourth quarter on “fourth and four,” setting up the
winning score; that play and ecstatic “backflipping” of UT cheerleaders across
the wet astroturf at Razorback Stadium are as clear in my mind’s eye as if the
game had been played yesterday.