Thoughts during my Saturday morning bike ride

I got in a 23 mile before-breakfast bike ride up Angeles Crest Highway yesterday morning.  Saturday morning is the one time during the week I can go for a long ride, during my wife's areobics class.  It has become my Saturday morning break-away.

So: Early morning ride, before breakfast, before coffee, didn't have time to make and drink my morning coffee first, but wanted my caffeine fix.  Solution:  Cold coffee in my water bottle.  Not bad, actually, compared to the city water lately.

The ride up Angeles Crest is a climb.  Just up, and up, and up.  About 2000 feet of climbing this morning, though there's lots more up, up there when I have time.  I ran out of time yesterday just short of 12 miles and had to turn around. And then, of course, 2000 feet of adrenalin rush descent.  The caffeine is only necessary for the first half.  The second half provides its own stimulant.

I love riding up into the mountain highways.  There is the challenge of pushing my limits going up, the views are great, there's the rush coming down, and the fact that most of the hard work is done in the first half of the route.  The second half is, literally and figuratively, all down hill.

I can tell that keeping up with that pair of guys ahead is going to be tough when they have shaved legs -  that's a dead giveway that they are serious cyclists.

I wasn't sure about the hand signals that guy was giving me behind his seat. Was he warning me of hazards ahead, making sure I wasn't going to bump his wheel, or just dispersing passed wind?

Just because the cyclist in front of me is wearing pink socks does not mean she is going to be easy to overtake.  Never did catch up.  I did rationalize this by noting that she had the calf muscles of a male athlete.  And yes, I think she had shaved legs too, but I never got close enough to tell for sure.

I did pass a number of other riders (queue Rocky theme music). The trouble with passing someone is that then pride requires that I stay ahead, so I have to make sure I can permanently drop them before I pass them.

Firing snot rockets during a 35 mph descent is risky.  The rocket must be launched with maximum force or it may get caught in the nose-tip wind vortex and blown back in my face. 

Wonder what they do about nose blowing in the professional peloton?  A couple of weeks ago, the guy who had quietly come up behind my left shoulder about to pass me was lucky I heard him shifting cogs at just the right time.

These "new" so-called "clip-less" pedals (the ones with cleats on the bottom of the shoe that clip into the pedals) are a HUGE improvement over the old toe clips and straps.  I wasn't sure I'd like them and it sounded scary to have my feet trapped in the pedals, but I got a used pair of clipless pedals and they are SO much easier to use than the old toe clips and make pedaling hugely more efficient.  I say "new" in quotes because they are new to me, but have been around for a decade or two.  I was just out of active cycling for most of  that time.

Cycling has really caught on since I used to commute on my bike over 25 years ago.  Back then, the few times I rode up Angeles Crest Highway, I had it all to myself.  Now there is a steady stream of cyclists on a Saturday morning.  Maybe it's the Lance Armstrong effect.  Whatever the reason, I think it's great.  It's nice that I'm no longer the only crazy person climbing that mountain. 

It's also nice that I can still pass a lot of much younger cyclists.  It's a little funny though when I notice that almost ALL of the others on the mountain are much younger.  I don't feel old.  I wonder if I look it.

Replacing my old Bell Biker helmet probably helps to disguise my age a little.  That old helmet, left over from the '70s, was certainly a giveaway of my age.

Lance Armstrong has in fact ridden (down) that same road, in the Tour of Califonia.  The T of C used the route across Angeles Forest Highway and down Angeles Crest Highway, and then on down to the Rose Bowl (where I went last week), several times.  Hard to imagine racing down that road.  Going down it alone is one thing, but racing down it in a group is hard to imagine, even though I watched them do it.

I keep trying to use the mapping app on my iphone to track my rides, but it rarely works right.  Today, it did map the route, sort of, but it thought I had gone twice as far as I actually did.  Last week, it clocked me at 52 mph on a flat ride, which was probably also double the reality.  The idea in using it was so my wife could tell where I was and be reaassured that I was OK.  Glad she didn't see that reading of 52 mph live or she would not have felt at all reassured.  The fact that the phone crashes so much makes it useless at reassuring her that I have not crashed.

Spinning class is good exercise, but it really doesn't compare to actually climbing a mountain.

Funny thing though:  I have estimated that Angeles Crest would rank as several category 2 climbs in professional cycling, but actually the toughest climb on the whole route is the first couple of miles in town, just getting from my house up to Foothill Blvd.  Nothing after that is as steep.

Take Me The Way I Am

A popular song that is one of my favorites right now is Ingrid Michaelson's

"The Way I Am"

If you were falling, then I would catch you.

You need a light, I'd find a match.

Cause I love the way you say good morning.

And you take me the way I am. 

If you are chilly, here take my sweater.

Your head is aching, I'll make it better. 

Cause I love the way you call me baby.

And you take me the way I am. 

I'd buy you Rogaine when you start losing all your hair.

Sew on patches to all you tear. 

Cause I love you more than I could ever promise.

And you take me the way I am.

You take me the way I am.

You take me the way I am.

The words strike a chord with me:  The concept of love being two people who take each other the way they are.  We want acceptance in spite of, or better yet because of, our faults.

The quirky line in that song, expressing the strangeness of modern romance:  "I'd buy you Rogaine . . . " shows that while we want to be accepted for what we are, part of the reason is that we actually aren't all that happy with how we are.  We don't truly accept ourselves The Way We Are.  We want to be different; and better (with more hair, at the very least).  We want someone who will love us, even when we don't quite like just how we are.  The only reason we would long for someone to accept us as we are, with all our faults, is that we recognize that we are far from perfect, and think we are perhaps difficult to love.

If I felt that being the way I am is perfectly OK, I would feel no need for acceptance of my faults.  It is because I myself do not accept myself the way I am that I wish for someone else who would accept those things about me that I don't like but have been unable to change.

Introspective people spend a lot of time looking at their own faults and trying to change them, almost always unsuccessfully. Changing personality or character is almost impossible.  We are what we are.  We may struggle with trying to improve in various ways, but most of us make little progress at it.  I lost a lot of weight, but the factors in my personality that caused me to gain weight in the first place are still there, struggling to put it back on.  I may have changed my body, but changing my mind and behavior is something else entirely.  I don't think I am now an inherently thin person.  I still am what I was - what I am.  Perhaps a "recovering" heavy person.

But if someone else could accept and love me with my faults, then it could make me feel better about those faults.  If they can accept those faults, then maybe so should I?  Which might relieve some of the guilt over my lack of success at self-improvement.

Can we change?  Is change impossible, or just very, very difficult?  Little changes are perhaps only a little difficult, but big changes may be so difficult as to be, for practical purposes, impossible.  Changing enough to be able to accept ourselves the way we are may be too much to ask.

Much of what makes Christianity both appealing, and unappealing, is its promise of acceptance, but also its promise to change us, and its demand that we change.  We long to be changed, because changing ourselves, well, we've tried.  Lord knows we've tried.  Must we change ourselves in order to be changed?  Lord, take me the way I am.  Will you really?  Because, if I need to have more faith, well, I have what I have.  If I need to be a better person to be saved, then well, I am what I am.  Is God alone allowed to refer to Himself by that title (I am what I am)?  Does God take us the way we are?  Did God in fact make us the way we are?  Does God demand that we change? Yes, Yes, and Yes.  The Bible seems conflicted about that.  Dear Lord, take me the way I am. And then change me.  But please don't ask me to change myself, because, well, that's just the way I am.  (At this point, please avoid digressing into theology, or argument about faith vs works).

Yet even as we wish for acceptance, we may try to hide the very things we wish could be accepted.  We want to be accepted for what we are but we dare not totally reveal it, because we don't accept it, and we don't think it can be accepted by anyone else either.  I won't tell you about those flaws I wish you could accept, because I think you would judge them, not accept them.  But I wish you could magically perceive throught the eyes of love the unlovable person I know I am, and yet love me and love my faults.

Often, I would like to say to someone:  "I do accept you the way you are, I just wish you could believe that and not be so defensive all the time!"  They don't think they are lovable that way, even if I do love them.  And I don't quite totally believe they could accept all of the flaws in me either, so I can understand.

Could it be that we are not merely the person we are, but also, to some degree, we are the person we wish we were?  The fact that we have higher ideals than we are actually able to live up to, doesn't just having the ideals count for a great deal?  Perhaps I'm not really just "the way I am".  Perhaps, maybe, I am partly the ideals I admire, whether or not I manage to live that way.  I hope so.  Because I'm afraid you just have to take me the way I am.

Cheating and whining

9 a.m. to 12 a.m. is only 3 hours, isn't it?

I suppose nearly everyone who gets a traffic citation thinks their ticket was unfair in some way. At least, I do.  Don't you?  It's just human nature to rationalize and excuse one's own misbehavior.  I was thinking about the irony last night of sort of semi-cheating on the on-line Traffic School course I was taking to make up for
"sort of semi-cheating" on a minor traffic nit-pick citation (or at least, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it).

Actually, the "cheating" on the traffic school was just a matter of printing out each chapter, letting it run in the background until the required study time was up, and then using the print-out to take the exams "open book."  Nothing says that's illegal.  Besides, the questions are really nit-picky and tricky.  They purposely ask things you'd never be able to figure out without directly reading the sentence from the course text.  Do I feel guilty?  No.  I don't feel guilty about the citation either.  Mad, yes.  Guilty, no.  That's likely just my self-excusing, but that's the truth.  I'm not upset about doing the crime, just about getting caught.

The citation was from one of those stupid and corrupt red-light camera robotic thieving automatic citation machines.  Yes, I know, rationalizing and excusing myself.  But really, those things should be illegal.  This particular one was especially bad.  I didn't get the ticket for running the red light.  I got it for failing to come to a full stop on a red arrow before turning right in a dedicated right-turn lane.  It wasn't illegal to turn right on red.  It was just illegal to do it without coming to a stop first.  That's not really what those cameras are supposed to be catching.  The accidents caused by that behavior are not nearly as serious as those from people actually going straight through an intersection on red light.  But as it turns out, the right turn tickets are where they make almost all of their money.  And make no mistake, it's all about making money.  They only put them up at intersections where they can make money.  And they don't work.  They can't work.  If the cameras actually stop people from running red lights then they don't make money, and if they don't make money, they take them down.  So they only operate the cameras at intersections where they are pretty sure people will get caught unawares.  They are, as far as I'm concerned, cheating.  They justify the cameras based on the straight ahead red light running accidents, but then most of the tickets they give out are for something much less serious.  The system is a lie and a cheat.  And they know it.  If they really wanted to cut down on accidents, the simple and free way to do it is to introduce a time lag between when the light turns red in one direction and when the light then turns green in the other direction.  That works really well.  It just doesn't make any money.

The thing is, I actually have no way of knowing whether I actually ran the red light or not.  I was totally unaware of it at the time.  I did not knowingly run the light.  A month or so later I got the ticket mailed to me.  I was totally dumbfounded.  Did I really run the light, or is their equipment just set to make it look that way?  I have no way of knowing.  If I believe their equipment, then I did it.  Should I believe their equipment?  I don't know.  I know that law enforcement is often corrupt.  I know that machines often malfunction.  I know they would likely not admit it if they knew it was malfunctioning.  I know they have no scruples.  Did I really run the light?  I really don't know.  I'm not in the habit of doing it on purpose.  I go through that intersection every day, and they have had the equipment there for several years, so apparently I have never run that light before.  I may have done it that one time, but I can't really say one way or the other.

In the photo, I had the sun-visor down, because the sun was shining directly in my face.  I was coming down a hill and around a corner facing into the sun.  The red arrow is obscured by an overgrown tree at the bend until you get around the corner.  I had only a very brief time to see the red arrow, and there are lots of other things to be paying attention to:  Watching the car in front of me; Watching for pedestrians; Watching for cars coming from the left. 

The risk was nil.  The risks all had to do with the things I actually was watching for, not with the red arrow I apparently didn't see.

I seriously thought about fighting the ticket.  The code section cited on the ticket was somewhat dubious.  The tree obsuring the view of the light may have been a justification.  But in the end, I figured the traffic court commissioner has heard all the excuses a thousand times and isn't likely to be sympathetic.  They have a well-oiled system of extracting money from drivers, and that system pays their salaries.  They aren't going to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs.  In the end, my whining would get me no where.  Their view would be that regardless of all that, it's my responsibility as the driver to find the light and obey it - end of story.

So, I paid the exhorbitant roughly $600 for the fine and traffic school, and did my time (or most of it).

I was counting up all the traffic tickets I have ever received.  It's more than I would have guessed.  I think I've gotten 6 tickets in 46 years of driving.  Oh, yeah, I also got one riding my bicycle back before I had a driver's license - riding my bike on the wrong side of the street - that was really nit-picking.  And then there was a jay-walking ticket.  Some of the auto tickets were legitimate (one speeding, one actual red light I didn't see).  Most were at best nit-picky (two red-light cameras - this one and one for being a fraction of a second late; one for being in the wrong lane with a trailer).  At least one was out and out corrupt on the part of the cop (a supposed failure to yield right-of-way that never actually happened).  On the other hand, I have probably gotten away with far worse things.

The reality is that most drivers could be cited for something nearly every time they get behind the wheel.  A defensive driving instructor in one class made that very point.  If a cop followed you around constantly, you could get a ticket every day.  It's kind of a strange system in which everyone is guilty, most of us quite frequently, but we get caught rarely, and when we do, it is often for minor nit-picks rather than for the probably far more serious things we should have gotten caught for.  Does that system end up producing safer traffic?  Not sure.  It's more like God and the prevalence of sin.  We are all guilty and live only on grace.  Should we whine when our guilt finally catches up to us?  Probably not, but we do anyway.

e-books (or are they now ebooks?)

With my new "Bob's Big Boy" library card hot in hand, and my new pin # ready to give me access to that great big wonderful world of public library e-books, I ventured over the digital divide into the great unknown vastness of the unexplored e-book world. 

So far, I am, of course, Bemused.

I quickly discovered several things:

A)  Why I quit going to the public library and went on Amazon instead:  It's because Amazon actually has what I want, when I want it (well, with only a few days wait for delivery).  The public library has what they have, which is not all that much to start with, and the books I really want are wanted by everyone else too, and so are already checked out and on a waiting list.  Get in line and take a number.

B)  What I didn't count on is that e-books get "checked out" just like paper ones.  Weird.  It's just a file on a server somewhere.  That file is still on the server.  Why can't I read it whenever I want to?  Oh, yeah, it's that copyright thing.  The library only owns the right to one copy, so only one person at a time is allowed to read it.  So, all the books I really want have waiting lists.

C) That I tend to write in lists.  I'm never going to become a novelist writing in lists.  Computer programmer, maybe, but novelist, not so much.

D) That reading a novel on my i-phone (or is that iphone) is not nearly as pleasant as reading a real book.  Among other things, it's a lot like trying to read a novel written by a kindergartner on that paper with the big wide lines:  You get about ten words on a page, and have to keep turning pages constantly.

OK, forget the list format.  Let's talk (or write).

The really funny thing is that after going through the few novels the public library site had available, looking for one that was not checked out that I actually want to read, the one I ended up with is "Innocent" by Scott Turow, from his (wait for it) . . .   "Kindle County" series.  e-book. Kindle County. Get it? 

That just can't be coincidence, can it?  Was the Amazon Kindle named after his novels?  Did he promise to publish his books digitally if Amazon named their Kindle after his series?  Did he publish his books on the competing e-pub format for revenge because they stole his word?  A brief googling of that subject did not turn up the answer.

Getting back to the main subject, the other irritating thing about reading a book in digital format, which became particularly evident with this particular novel, is trying to flip back and forth to check something earlier in the book.  The first chapter starts off with a date, which is not very memorable.  When each future chapter starts with other dates, I need to check back on the date on the previous chapters to understand the sequence of events.  Paging back and forth, one page at a time, is painful. 

On the other hand, it is certainly handy to have a novel in my pocket any time I have my cell phone on me and a little time to kill (was that a Grisham novel?  No, not quite).

And as for this new e-dict (oops edict) by some style manual, that e-mail is now spelled email, I'm not so sure that's a good ide-a.  More likely it should be "e mail" (two words).  Or at least e'mail, like a contraction.  Is the old slow paper alternative to email now spelled "smail"?

I have long noticed that reading anything on a computer screen longer than what fits on one page is not pleasant.  In fact, I notice that any e-mail longer than one page just doesn't get read.  I start it, then set it aside to finish later, and never do.  I think it has something to do with TV induced attention deficit disorder.  Except, it's not nearly as true of things printed on paper.  There's something about a digital screen that makes it hard to turn the page.  To read a longer e-mail, I print it out, then I can read it - just not on the screen.

Maybe if I had an actual Kindle instead of an i-phone, reading an e-book might be more pleasant, but I'm thinking that so far, I still prefer hard copy books.  Maybe books aren't yet obsolete after all.

And by the way, those notes at the bottom of e-mails saying to consider the environment before printing the message:  I don't buy the theory that printing it out is more harmful to the environment than the energy wasted running your computer when you could have turned it off and read it on paper instead.  And paper is actually a "sequestered" form of carbon.  Trees take carbon out of the atmosphere to make cellulose.  The tree gets turned into paper, and the paper gets stored (on my desk) for decades.  To save the earth, print out this blog and turn off your computer.  Oops, too late, you already read it on screen.

Checking out the Library

My New Library Card

I went to the Library last night.

That sentence wouldn't used to have been worth writing.  I used to spend lots and lots of time at libraries.  I remember a junior high school English class essay assignment I had to write on the subject of "My Favorite Teacher."  I dodged the delicate question of whether to insult or suck up to that English teacher by writing an essay saying that my favorite teacher was the Library.  That was probably true, too.  I was then and am still a voracious book reader.  Going to the library was truly a favorite thing to do, and I have learned more from reading library books than from any other teacher.

We used to go there as a family with the kids when they were young, and come home with great huge stacks of books.

But I haven't been to the Library in so many years that my card with no expiration date had finally expired anyway.  I knew that only because I tried to log onto the library website and was denied access.  My card was literally disintegrating.  I just haven't gone to the library in many years, even though it's less than a mile straight down my own street.

So last night, I finally managed to get there and got a new library card.  They offered me my choice of picture cards.  I got the one with the photo of Bob's Big Boy on it.  Actually, it's a photo of Glendale's 2002 Rose Parade Float that had a giant Big Boy statue, almost like the Statue of Liberty, except holding up not the torch of Liberty but the Hamburger of Obesity.  In Glendale times have changed only somewhat - the library is going digital, but the photo on the card looks back to the previous century.  Us oldies remember cruising Bob's drive-in on Friday nights, but those drive-ins have all gone now, replaced by drive-thrus.

I think what most bemused me though is thinking about why I have been away from the library so long (and, oh, by the way, they said I have 80 cents in overdue fines that have been on my account for many years).  Why did I quit going to the library?

Sadly, one reason is that with all the government fiscal problems over the last 30 years, they have kept cutting back on hours until it is rarely open when I am around.  I did try to go there a few times, but every time I tried, it was closed.  It is open 'til 8 only a few nights a week.  Most nights, it closes before I get home from work.

Another reason is that combination hero/villain of the book world, Amazon.  Buying a novel didn't used to seem like a reasonable thing.  Why buy a book I was only likely to read once and then have no use for?  Still true, but it's just easier to order and have it arrive magically a couple days later, and really, I LIKE owning books.  And besides, looking at books on Amazon is surprisingly fun and convenient.  No, this is not a plug for Amazon.  I was really sad that two bookstores in Westwood went out of business in the last three months, mostly due to internet competition.  But I have admit that I buy more books on line than I ever did in stores, and for more reasons than just price.

Which gets back around to the irony of what actually got me to the library this time:  To get a pin # so I could download e-books from the public library website.  In other words:  I went to the library so won't have to go to the library any more.  I went there only to get free access to the ephemeral digital replacement for books.  We got our daughter a Kindle for her birthday - even Amazon is putting itself out of the book business.  I'm still clinging to paper books, but I think their days are fading.

I get the feeling the library, and the books it stores, are about to go the way of the Bob's Big Boy on my library card - nostalgic memories. I heard someone say recently that owning shelves of books used to make one look educated; now it just makes you look old.

I will lament the demise of the library even though I hadn't gone in years. My grandchildren know what a library is. My grandson said going to the school library was one his best days ever. Their children may see libraries only as museums for those antique paper things.  Should we feel sad about that, or happy?  In the end, isn't progress is about gain, not about loss?  Aren't we happy that technology progresses, from carvings on clay, to handwriting on scrolls, to manual printing presses, to automated presses that mass produce easily affordable books; from typewriters to word processors, from handwritten snail mail to internet blogs;  from the shelf of Encyclopedia Brittanica, to the limitless expanse of the Internet, instantly updated?  We may recall with fondness things we used to enjoy, but that doesn't mean we really want to go back to them.  I have this nagging sense of something extremely valuable being lost, but I think the reality is that it is going away only because it has been replaced by something much better.

Thoughts at a funeral

Some thoughts at a funeral today:

Wise King Solomon wrote:

A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one’s birth. It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart. Sorrow is better than laughter: for by the sadness of the countenance the heart is made better. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth. (Ecclesiastes 7:1-4)

But we seemed to have managed to combine the house of mourning with the houses of feasting and mirth, all in the same occasion.  I guess doing all three at the same time should be pretty good too.

Maybe having 1000 wives and concubines, as Solomon did, would make any man wish for the day of his death.

The wise man of baseball, Yogi Berra, said:

 "Always go to other people's funerals; otherwise, they won't go to yours" 

I don't think I'll care if anyone goes to mine, though.

Another baseball manager, Chuck Tanner, who coincidentally died Friday said:

"You can have money piled to the ceiling but the size of your funeral is still going to depend on the weather.”  

Not actually sure that's true.  He lived in New Castle, Pennsylvania, so I expect the weather will not be good for his funeral.  Lots of people will probably go anyway.

After the congregation stumbled and mumbled torturously through the four long verses of a very long hymn, sung in a variety of keys, to an organ accompaniment too soft to be heard despite the hesitant singing, except at the beginning of each verse where we could hear just enough of the organ to prove that we were off key, and it was impossible to find the bass part anywhere, the first two words of the opening prayer expressed my sentiments exactly:  "Merciful God!"

I never cease to be amazed at how much I learn about a person, who I have known all my life, at their funeral: all the things I never knew about them until they died.  Seems a shame.  All those things I'd have talked to them about if I knew it before.  Wouldn't it be better if you all posted your funeral notes someplace like your Facebook Wall well ahead of time, so I wouldn't have to wait for your funeral to learn all that interesting stuff about you?

For instance:  I had no idea she collected tea cups, like my wife.  The family brought her collection to the dinner after the funeral and used them as table decorations (with chocolate kisses in them).

If you like to collect something, make sure at least one of your children appreciates them.

I always feel a little guilty going to someone's funeral when I haven't spoken to them for several years before that.  Seems like they might have preferred me taking the time to visit before they died instead of waiting 'til afterwards.  On the other hand, it is a lot less awkward - I don't have to figure out what to say to them.

The deceased's two sons in law eulogized her.  My mother in law asked if I was making notes for her funeral.  Cleo, there is just no way I will be able to get any words out at your funeral.  I will be too choked up.  I would say wonderful things about you if I could talk, but I'm sure I won't be able to.  I'll just have to tell you now instead that I love you too much to be able to say so at your funeral.

Walking around the cemetery, I saw some husband-and-wife combined headstones where one spouse was buried but the other still has a blank for the date of their yet future death.  Seems a bit morbid seeing the headstone just waiting to have the date of your death filled in.  I suppose though that it is reality:  Whether we have commissioned it yet or not, somewhere there is a piece of stone just waiting to have each of our dates of death engraved on it.  Puts things in perspective.  But still, I'd rather they waited 'til I was dead to have my headstone made up.

Actually, I'm thinking about donating my body to UCLA medical school.  I've already donated 14 gallons of my blood to them, so they might as well get the rest of me to go with it.  We did buy funeral plots once, about 35 years ago, when a salesman persuaded us it was just good planning.  But we cancelled the deal the next day when we came to our senses.  Don't think I want to buy any more funeral plots.  If I'm going to buy land, I want to be able to reside on it while I'm alive.

The last line on this headstone was pretty helpful - yep, those Seagoes.

There were a lot of other Seagoes lined up there too.  Without this one to identify them, I wouldn't have been sure it was the same family I know.  I guess the engravers charge by the letter.  Too bad.  It would be nice if more gravestones had more information on them about the person underneath, instead of just the dates of birth and death.  Come on, expand a bit on that hyphen in between.

Funny why the grave diggers nowadays wait for everyone to leave before they lower the coffin and fill in the grave.  I like it better when you can watch.  The idea of going off and leaving the coffin still sitting out there seems sort of, unfinished business.

Still haven't figured out what to do with the programs from funerals.  I find it hard to throw out the last memento of a person.  Some people collect them. Not sure I want to do that either.  Pretty sure my children won't appreciate the collection when I'm dead.  Pretty sure I won't care by then.



Indianappeals, IN

Strange.  I never would have imagined that events in Indianapolis would have any direct affect on my life.  But that's how it's turning out.  Two appeals of two quite different types were held in Indianapolis the last two months.  The outcome of USC's appeal at NCAA headquarters two weeks ago will have a huge effect on the football team I root for.  More directly, the Indiana Supreme Court in December heard oral arguments on a case that will decide whether we will continue to be allowed to rent out our house in Northwest Indiana, which would have a significant impact on our income. I found that Indianapolis had more appeal to me when I was there to see the museums and the zoo and when we ran in their half-marathon than it does as a venue for legal appeals.

Regarding USC's appeal to the NCAA, I have two words:  Fight On!

About the case in the Indiana Supreme Court, it is the only time I can recall any court case actually having a direct personal affect on me.  Like most people, my contact with the courts is generally limited to the occasional traffic citation and periodic calls for jury service.  Neither of those has ever inspired much trust in the court system.  I do not call it the "legal" system or the "justice" system, because law and justice seem to have little relevance to the outcomes.

Some people in the town where I own a vacation house decided they didn't like vacation rentals and got the town to sue another owner (Siwinski) who was renting out his house, despite the fact that vacation rentals have always been common there, the town ordinances make no mention of rentals of any sort, and there was no previous history of them ever attempting to enforce this interpretation.  In truth, it was really a feud between Siwinski and his neighbor, an attorney who has a law office in her house.  It was a personal feud that got out of hand and got blown all out of proportion; where the town took sides in what should have been a private dispute.  The town got lucky with an incompetent local judge.  That ruling was overturned in favor of Siwinski by the Indiana Appeals Court.  The town appealed to the Indiana Supreme Court, which should have refused to even hear the case, but accepted it for some incomprehensible reason.

If you are curious or masochistic, you can see video of the oral arguments before the Indiana Supreme Court here:  https://mycourts.in.gov/arguments/default.aspx?view=detail&id=1139  Personally, I thought both attorneys and most of the Supreme Court justices appeared incompetent and ignorant both of the case and of relevant law.

I really never wanted to go to court, and now that a case there directly affects me, I am more convinced than ever that going to court is a baaaaad idea. My personal involvement was in trying to keep both parties out of court.  I pleaded with both sides to find a way to work together to solve the real problems rather than both wasting time and money in court.  Besides, I am convinced that is the only Christian thing to do.  I talked to Siwinski and other rental owners and I talked to the town council and several officials.  I told both sides that the only people who win in court are the attorneys and that there are better ways to work out differences.  Neither side would listen.  4 years and about $150,000 later, I think that point has been proven.  There will be no winners.  Any useful result could have been better achieved in a different way.

The biggest loser of all though is justice itself.  What I have learned is that the government can ruin you in court without having any legal basis.  Even if they lose (as they should) just making Siwinski defend himself has cost him more than the fine and the profits he was making.  If you are accused of a crime, simply the accusation alone can ruin you, even if you are completely innocent.  Being found "not guilty" (and innocence is no guarantee of that) will be a hollow victory after your finances and reputation have been ruined in the process of defending yourself.  In reality, it made no sense for Siwinski to defend himself in court. He could and should have settled.  The cost was more than it's worth.  The reason he is fighting seems to be that he can afford to and hates to lose to the neighbor.

What I find frightening and depressing is finding that although the law itself was very, very, clearly in Siwinski's favor, it gets interpreted by judges who might as well be flipping coins or examing their magic 8-balls when they make their decisions.  The outcome is virtually random.  Any connection between a court verdict and actual truth or justice is only slightly better than coincidence (maybe worse).  Worse yet, in Indiana, the local judge runs for election and has to curry favor with local voters, so a case between a local town and an owner from out of state is not going to get her unbiased judgment.

Defenders of American institutions would like to claim that the ability of the system to make corrections in the appeals system is proof that it works.  The Indiana Supreme Court hasn't yet ruled and might possibly even make the right decision.  But even if they do, justice that takes four years and $100,000 to defend against what is not even a misdemeanor is not justice at all.  The function of the courts in the American system is not merely to punish the guilty, but perhaps more importantly to protect the innocent against abuse by tyrannical governmernt (and all government tends to tyranny if it can get away with it).  The local judge totally failed in that duty in this case.  Seeing the court system up close and personal has been very disappointing and disillusioning. 
I guess, in a way, I should be glad that the "wheels of justice" have ground so slowly, because in the meantime, I have been able to continue renting my house for the last four years while the town fights with Siwinski.  Siwinski's neighbor obviously doesn't feel that way though.  And Siwinski has his house listed for sale and just wants out of the whole thing.

I try to maintain a philosphic or religious outlook on this.  It's only money.  My life is not about money.  If I put my trust in God, none of this matters at all.  It's a good lesson about not putting my trust in the material things of this world, which can be snatched away at any time on any whim of those in power.  The fact that I have two houses means I'm obviously not poverty stricken.  It seems pretty spoiled of me to worry about having two houses when most people would be happy to have just one to worry about.  I will not go broke either way.  And of course, it most definitely reinforced my basic religious viewpoint that going to law is not the Christian thing to do if there is any way to avoid it.  But still, I can't help but feel a gut wrenching churn of injustice being done.

Indy, I loved running your half-marathon, but right now, you are not on my happy list.

Oh, and USC:  Sorry, but your season ticket prices have gotten too high anyway.  You'll have to fight on without me.