Common Sense: The Eulogy

On My Soapbox

The headline in the Saturday, August 22, 2009 Ft. Worth Star-Telegram read: “New Texas law seeks common sense instead of ‘zero tolerance’ in punishment of students.”

Here’s the definition of common sense according to my ancient Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary: Common Sense n : 1 : sound and prudent but often unsophisticated judgment 2 : the unreflective opinions of ordinary men. Wow! No wonder so few of us display it. Webster makes common sense almost sounds like a bad thing.

Also, according to Webster, if your opinions are reflective, they’re “thoughtful and deliberate.” Does this mean that if you practice common sense, you’re deliberately not thoughtful? I think I need a new dictionary!

“Common sense is not so common.” Voltaire

There are good reasons for Zero Tolerance: consuming alcohol under the legal age, illegal drugs, driving under the influence of alcohol, violence and weapons at school. Then what happens to peoples’ brains that make them suspend a student for a baseball bat in his car when baseball is a school sponsored activity? Was it because that student was not on the school’s baseball team? Actually he was on the school’s junior varsity team.

This really happened to Cory Henson, a 16-year old sophomore at a Texas high school, in 2004. The so-called bat was no more than eight inches long and it had broken off a trophy. What's even sillier is that there was a full-sized aluminum bat, along with other baseball equipment, in the trunk of Henson’s car. “Sgt. Daniel Garcia of the Fort Worth Police Department School Initiative Unit said he was not aware of the full-sized bat in the car. ‘If the student plays baseball at the school, then common sense would prevail in the situation,’ he said.” There’s that phrase again.

“You can’t legislate intelligence and common sense into people.” Will Rogers

Since Zero Tolerance was enacted, there are countless stories like Cory Henson’s all over the nation; and, dear unreflective reader, many are even more ridiculous. Students have been expelled for having a legal, non-prescription Advil on their person. Elementary students have been expelled for pointing pencils and saying "pow," and for drawing pictures of soldiers. In Texas an eight-year old student was expelled for bringing a butter knife to school to help with the preparation of his lunch. Wouldn’t it have been less traumatic for the child and better for all concerned if the teacher had taken the knife, helped him spread the peanut butter and jelly, then called the parent and said, “please come get your knife; we don’t allow them in school?” As for drawing pictures of soldiers? Come on!!

“It is common sense to take a method and try it. If it fails, admit it frankly and try another. But above all, try something.” Franklin D. Roosevelt

This is not an attempt to diminish the value of strong disciplinary policies in our schools. There are real problems in schools. I gotta think school administrators are just so overwhelmed nowadays that handing children over to the police for shooting a rubber band at someone makes some kind of weird sense to them. To their credit, many Texas school districts have changed their conduct policies since state lawmakers gave school administrators the option of “considering mitigating factors when deciding punishment.” Isn’t that what our judicial system supposedly guarantees our citizens? And shouldn’t the punishment fit the crime? School children have been denied this right since Zero Tolerance came to be, and school has become a circus of paranoia.

Frankly, I’m afraid that even mandating common sense wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of working. If there was really more common sense, would people leave babies and pets in cars in the summer—or anytime for that matter? We have to have laws about these things so people will use their heads.

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing." (Edmund Burke)

Does it make sense to suspend a third grader for drawing a picture of his big brother, who was serving in the Army in Afghanistan, because the figure in the drawing had a gun? Does tossing a paper clip on a teacher’s desk constitute assault? Think about how being taken out of class by the police might affect a third grader and his classmates. Surely common sense tells us this kind of discipline is overboard.

So let’s revive poor old “common sense.” Mr. Webster may say it’s unsophisticated and ordinary, but surely it’s worth the effort. And good for Texas lawmakers! Let’s keep them aware of our feelings on these and other issues. Most of my readers no longer have children in primary and secondary schools, but we do have grandchildren, nieces and nephews in them. We are an enormous voting bloc with knowledge and experience and yes—common sense. Let’s share it!

Donna

Fear Mongers

I am so thrilled to share this wonderful story with you. A friend of mine wrote this and gave me permission to share it. Her name is Karen, and she was one of the good guys in one of my camping tales. Karen is a professional artist and a substitute teacher, working with special needs kids. This story made me smile right out loud.

Donna

Friday, May 08, 2009
Fear Mongers

I went into a class yesterday morning to pull out a couple of special needs kids; the class is Hispanic, but all the kids speak English very well. These are some of the kids that I adore. I subbed for that teacher for a week and brought home all kinds of handmade and hand-picked flowers, rocks, and paper dolls, given as gifts to me. That'll rock your world. These are some of the kids that mob-hug me. I was subbing in PE and 12 of them rushed me. Thank God they were all around me or they'd have taken me down! About 600 pounds of kid smacking into me yelling, "Ms. D!!!" I love it, of course.

Anyway, as I was in the class about 4 of them ran up to hug me, and the teacher pulled me aside and told me that the folks that run a not-to-be named organization from the local hotel behemoth come into the classrooms to conduct little seminars for the kids. She said they asked the teacher if, before they came, she could tell the kids not to hug them. You know...Hispanic kids, swine flu, etc. The teacher said, "How was I supposed to tell these kids not to hug? What should I say?" I asked, "What DID you do?" She laughed and said she gathered the kids around and told them, "Class, the nice ladies that come to school today are from a hotel. Sometimes, since there are all kinds of people from all over in hotels, they could be carrying certain viruses or 'bugs.' I don't want you to get sick, so when they come, it's probably better not to hug them!" She said the kids all got wide-eyed and said, "OK!"

HA HA!! When the ladies came, the kids sat at their seats and waved sweetly. When they left, they waved sweetly good-bye. And the "ladies" never knew that THEY were the verboten ones!

Karen


Note: You're smiling, too, aren't you? I know we have to be careful when it comes to swine flu, but it feels good to know the "Innocents" were not damaged by our fears.

Donna

Egad! “The Boss” is 60

My first reaction to the cover of my September/October AARP magazine was “what’s he doing on it?” Then I read the title: “The Boss Turns 60.” Bruce Springsteen is almost as old as I am. Holy Cow! Born in Long Branch, New Jersey, on September 23, 1949, he’ll turn 60 next month. I certainly never thought of him as a fellow baby boomer.

I didn't sign on for this. . .

In 1985, soon after his marriage to his first wife, Julianne, he and his new bride were passengers on one of my flights. What a circus it was. They were escorted onboard directly from the tarmac. There was no dashing through the terminal for them; they would have been mobbed by hysterical fans. When they were brought onboard, as First Flight Attendant, I was met by their aide and given my instructions: protect Mr. Springsteen from his fans during the flight. He was tired and needed some rest and I was not to let anyone bother him.

This happened during the “Born in the USA” tour at the height of Springsteen’s popularity. I told the rest of the flight attendants we were to try to keep other passengers from bothering the Springsteen’s; and we really did try. His beautiful young bride was the sweetest little bodyguard that night. She was very patient with the fans that were able to slip past the cabin crew and approach the dozing megastar. It was a constant but losing battle trying to keep people away from him. Springsteen was tired, a little grumpy, but never impolite to anyone, even when they pestered him.

Jim and I enjoyed the music of Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band when the Born in the USA album was released. I did aerobics to “I’m on Fire,” “Glory Days,” and “Dancing in the Dark,” in our family room. His music videos on MTV were always fun—yes I really did watch MTV at one time. The track “Born in the USA” on the album was my least favorite. I didn’t like Springsteen’s angry, shouted lyrics, nor did I enjoy the ugly, depressed scenes of America in the music video.

After reading the article in AARP, I decided to do a little digging and learn more about “The Boss.” As it turns out, I wasn’t supposed to feel warm and fuzzy about the “Born in the USA” track. Duh. It was meant to make me think and feel bad. It was about the Vietnam War and the treatment of the returning Vets. But I wasn’t the only one who didn’t get his message. Ronald Reagan thought it was an upbeat, patriotic little ditty and wanted to use it in his campaign. Springsteen said “no.” He also turned down millions of dollars from Chrysler Corporation for the use of the song in a car commercial.

Helping Others

I have a newfound respect for Bruce Springsteen. Not only does he have convictions, he is a very pro-active supporter of our nation’s food banks. At his concerts everywhere, he asks his fans to “remember your neighbors,” and then food-bank reps pass through the crowd looking for donations. According to AARP, if you would like to help one of his favorite charities, go to feedingamerica.org, a network of more than 200 food banks. AARP magazine also says “...America needs Bruce Springsteen now more than ever.” I believe I like him now more than ever.

Donna

Peace, Love, and Rock and Roll

Forty years ago this past weekend, the greatest rock music festival in the history of the world took place. It was in every sense, “a happening.” Of course I’m referring to the 1969 Woodstock Music and Arts Fair, the ultimate musical tribute to peace, love, and rock and roll. Memorabilia and retrospectives are out and still coming out in every media, including some very expensive books and CD’s. Ironically, it was only eighteen dollars if you bought a three-day ticket in advance to see and hear some of the biggest names in pop, rock and folk music.

“We were half a million strong.” Joni Mitchell

In case you weren’t around at the time, it happened on Max Yasgur’s 600-acre farm in a muddy pasture in Bethel, N.Y., about 43 miles northeast of Woodstock, New York. When there were no more tickets, people just kept showing up, until more than four hundred thousand people had gathered there from all over the United States. Woodstock was an under-staffed, under-stocked, under-financed phenomenon that took on a life of its own. It was an orgy of epic proportions; the pinnacle of sex, drugs, and rock and roll—with no violent crimes. And it was also a mess of rain, mud, and bad acid trips.

Coffee, Tea or Me?

What was I doing between August 15th and August 17th in 1969? I was probably on an airplane, prancing around in white plastic go-go boots and a red, white, or blue mini dress. I would no more have showed up for a Hippie love-in than I would have attended a witch burning. I knew absolutely nothing about Woodstock until it was history. And of course, it was history in the literal and figurative sense.

This excerpt by Elliott Tiber, from a 1994 Times Herald-Record piece, sums up the event: “The last bedraggled fan sloshed out of Max Yasgur's muddy pasture more than 25 years ago. That's when the debate began about Woodstock's historical significance. True believers still call Woodstock the capstone of an era devoted to human advancement. Cynics say it was a fitting, ridiculous end to an era of naiveté. Then there are those who say it was just a hell of a party.”

“Talkin’ bout my generation.” The Who

If it was indeed the end to an era of naiveté, then I guess I was still very naïve. I wasn’t burning draft cards, bras, or illegal drugs. I was bringing bodies home in caskets in the bellies of airplanes for families to meet on the tarmac; and still the tragedy of the Vietnam war had not yet sunk into my small town, middle-America, middle-class psyche. Peace and Love was not my mantra—Eat and Pay the Rent was. I had no connection whatsoever with those young people. The me I was back then would have been shocked and horrified to witness the Woodstock spectacle.

My friend Trish was there. I didn’t know her then and I never would have understood her interest in going to Woodstock. She seems to have come through it all none the worse for it. She’s a successful professional, drives a Lexus, and her grown children are college graduates, (not that these things alone make a person a success). Trish was also there when the demonstrators were beaten by the police at the 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Talking to her about her youth is like rereading Michener’s The Drifters.

“Every life is a march from innocence . . .” Lyman Abbott

Even though I would not have enjoyed Woodstock, I recognize its momentous effect on our society. Like the old man who gratefully escaped war because of health issues or the sheer luck of timing, but looks back with regret for not being there, I now feel a sense of pride about Woodstock. Did it have an effect on human advancement as Elliott Tiber wrote? Did it herald the end of our naiveté? I’m sure it did both of these, plus it musta been a helluva party. There have been attempts to recreate Woodstock, to do it again, but I’m afraid the innocence that made it possible may be over the hill.

Donna

An Extraordinary Woman

Since beginning this blog in January, I spend more time remembering and thinking about things past than I probably have since graduating from high school in 1966. I joined Facebook in an attempt to connect with old friends and classmates and have been blessed with the recovery of some “lost treasures.” Barb is one of them.

There are two memories of my friend Barb that always come to mind when I think of her. First, I picture her in her maroon and white cheerleader uniform, leading cheers at the pep rallies in the high school gym. The other memory is of a moment in World Geography class. Some of the girls were participating in a “character assassination” of another cheerleader who happened to be absent that day. Barb turned away and refused to take part, leaving me with a most powerful memory for more than forty years.

We caught up with each other on Facebook in May, and she has graciously given me permission to share some of her writing. I have deleted some names and comments for her privacy.

Barb wrote: May 2, 2009

“I teach yoga classes a couple of nights a week and fitness classes at the Senior Center which is just a blast and very rewarding. My toughest challenge is that for the past five years I've been treated for ovarian cancer. There's good and not so good that comes with knowing and being treated for a chronic disease. I continue to live a full life, remaining fairly active and totally enjoying being grandma to my three year old granddaughter.”

I wrote that I have the most terrific kid on the planet.

Barb wrote: May 2, 2009

“Married 34 years this fall and I beg to differ. I have the most terrific kid on this planet. Christopher has given me the greatest gift of love and support in that he has never considered my slowing down with this insidious disease. We've skied up ski hills, cycled, hiked, rock climbed and watched hours of House and NCIS on TV together. Sounds like you have a similar bond with your son, extraordinary love and support.

My husband and I loved our visit to Austin a few years ago. The hill country is amazing. We made it out to the Enchanted Rock. What fun! I agree that Michigan is the most beautiful place on earth.”

I wrote that I hadn’t heard from her in a while.

Barb wrote: July 26, 2009

“I'm on a fairly rugged chemo schedule this summer. It goes like this. Fourteen days of chemo followed by fourteen days break to "recover." Actually I'm holding up well under the assault and have had some positive results.

If all goes as planned, next Saturday I will be participating in a triathlon teaming with my son Chris. He will do the swim and run. I will do the twenty-mile bike ride. It's a bit of a crazy plan but I would have it no other way. Me and my boy! I'm sure you get it.”

I wrote that I’m amazed she would compete in a triathlon with the chemo.

Barb wrote: July 27, 2009

“I no longer remember what it feels like to live without a bone deep exhaustion. For the past few weeks my bones have been sending out shooting pains a result of having to rebuild the red/white cells and platelets. Often this occurs in the larger hip and thigh bones, so it's fairly startling. Five years later, I confess, I continue to do battle with paralyzing despair. I'm just not ready to leave this special life of mine. I feel so blessed. This disease has slowly opened my heart, my self, my compassion to such extraordinary heights. I've acquired a treasure trove of wonderful rich memories. Would I have known enough to cherish these moments without the disease, certainly not on the scale that I do now. Exercise is my friend, from a peaceful yoga session or walk to testing myself on the bike or ski's or at the gym. I'm alive and kicking and I plan to remain that way until ‘the fat lady sings.’

Your friends confronted with a similar battle, I hold in my heart. We're all in this together.”

Barb sent me her “Bucket List” on July 29, ending with this thought:

“Now I have my hopes pinned on the 20 mile ride August first. It’s challenging to say the least when I’m working my way through another 14 days straight of chemo. It would be far easier to quit. Yet so boring! When my Lance Armstrong Live Strong Jersey arrives I plan to wear it every day if I have to, to keep my spirits up.”

Note:

I’m waiting to hear back from Barb about the triathlon. When I do, I’ll let you know how it went.

Donna