Conservative Liberalism-

I have Internet friends (and even friends in real life) who are Conservatives. I have Internet friends (and even friends in real life) who are Liberals. Some are so clear and well defined in their beliefs that it seems they have gone to some kind of school where they learned the proper vocabulary and concepts. Perhaps some of them did.

I really don't know if there is a title for what I am. Sometimes I agree with what conservatives say. Sometimes I agree with what liberals say. Often I don't really agree with any of them. Generalities make creatures such as lawyers, real estate agents, cops and many others seem to be a bunch of bad guys. It is not a particularly good thing to work with generalities. The bad press and  tendency of people to speak critically about generalized entities makes knowing anything useful about them difficult.

I can't imagine that this country could run even as well as it does if all politicians were the crooked and self-seeking creatures I see in my mind when I hear the word "politician." Not all cops are corrupt, that I know. I was one of that clan, though only a lowly correctional officer. I knew a lot of cops. They were people, regular folk with a difficult job that most of them did as well as they could. A few were not the best of people, but hardly the corrupt monsters portrayed in story and film.

I know my own heart and mind. I don't like a lot of regulation. I think it is needlessly complex and expensive, and a good crook can easily find a niche in which to dwell in a needlessly complex system. Yet I also recognize that an unregulated society is dangerous and life in such society would be difficult. Where is the balance? Nobody can really agree. Everyone has their own preference for a balance point, and it is rarely the same as everyone else's.

Take taxes, for example. Taxes don't bother me. Not if they are used well to meet real needs. Some complain that taxes are too many, too much. I don't really think so. I think that the resources gathered by taxation are very poorly managed, however, and so in that sense the tax burden is great. What is taken from me as my fare share is wasted and abused. I would gladly contribute to a well managed system. As it is, I am robbed and the money is poorly distributed and badly used.

Maybe taxes do bother me.

In the country I call home, the United States, we have a two party system of government. Oh, there are other parties, but two parties dominate and vie for control in every election. I don't like either party. The seem to me to be two flavors of vanilla, and not a premium vanilla. Two bland and uninteresting flavors of vanilla. Swap one for another, and you still don't have much.

Is one party conservative, and the other liberal? Which, then, is better? Must I choose between them? What shall guide my choice? I am not conservative, at least not so in everything. I don't think I am liberal, at least not all of the time. Perhaps I practice Conservative Liberalism. Or maybe a Liberal Conservativism. How can I know?

I recently read an article (or most of an article) on a possible genetic factor in being liberal or conservative. That would certainly be easier. I could have a test of some kind done, which would tell me which camp I belong in. Then I could buy the right t-shirt, and learn to shout the proper slogans.

If it was like grade school, back in my day, we could all line up. The Liberals and the Conservatives could take turns picking us. Then I could have the same angst as a consequence of being picked last, and one team or another would get stuck with me. I suppose I am glad it isn't like that. I don't ever want to do that kind of thing again.

In those days I chose to not even line up at all. I would just go out to the far end of the field and stand under a big tree, gazing through the chain link fence and wondering what might be out there beyond the horizon. Part of me is still under that tree, gazing through the fence at the horizon.

What might be on the other side of that horizon? I wonder...

Leroy-

I knew a man named Leroy back in the days when I was working for Salz Tannery. We worked there together. I operated huge mixers used to remove the hair from cow hides. Leroy was a mechanic. I really liked Leroy.

Actually, everyone liked Leroy. He was one of those unique persons whom everyone liked. These people are rare. He seemed to exist in a bubble of good will, held in high esteem by both sides of various social factions without jealousy or general bad feelings. He didn't "suck up," and was not sucked up to by people seeking his favor. He was just inherently pleasant to be around.

I have known a few such people, whom I refer to in my thoughts as Leroys. Now, being of an analytical nature it would not be surprising to find out I have observed myself. I know I am not a Leroy. People are not automatically attracted to me. Neither are they universally repulsed. I have determined that this is partially due to my social defensive tactics. I tend to be charming and abrasive in equal measures, adjusting those qualities to keep people at a manageable emotional distance.

Some people have a longing to be liked and accepted, in the extreme. They want to be Leroys. Most of them are unpleasant to be around simply due to the aura of needy and complex emotions. A true Leroy does not need to be accepted, and by virtue of that are more often accepted and in more places. That centered-ness might be one of the features that makes a Leroy so attractive.

The social interactions of a Leroy aren't driven by fear, or avarice, or some complex complex of emotions that make people who they are. The Leroy has a balance of social needs, is not predatory in relationships, and has a genuine affection for people as people. The Leroy gives in reasonable measure, yet in giving does not invite the predation of emotional predators. The Leroy is comfortable enough in his (or her) own skin to interact honestly with people without presenting that honesty as a wall.

That observation regarding honesty used as a wall was revelatory to me regarding my own non-Leroy-ness. I am honest in the extreme. Until I made this observation I did not realize that I used my honesty as one of my tools to keep people at a safe distance. I already realized that my honesty was not just the consequence of values like integrity. I simply don't have the kind of memory necessary for successful dishonesty, don't care for the complications of dishonesty, and don't have the need for approval from other humans to drive me to be dishonest for social gain.

Leroys, then, don't have the need to keep people at a distance. They don't have a cloying need to draw people close. The have a phenomenal sense of social balance. They are genuinely like this, inherently like this. It is a natural nature, not contrived or assumed.

I now recall a friend who was pretty good at mimicking the Leroy. He had it down pretty well, unlike the cliche used-car-salesman personality that is patently not genuine.  I think he longed to be a Leroy, but wasn't quite. I must admit that I tested his Leroy armor from time to time, and on occasion found a chink and saw the conflicted and angry person hiding inside.

Much as I admire the Leroy, I have to wonder if the Leroy is simply a mythical beast, an artifact of the flaws in my observations? I never had the opportunity to observe the Leroy at home, in contact solely with his (or her) intimate associations. Is the Leroy a Leroy at home? Lacking a suitable blind from which to make the necessary observations, I really can't say.

Whether mythical or real, I find the Leroy useful as a foil against which to test my own concept of self. If the Leroy is the perfect balance at the center of the scale of human interactive personalities, where do I fall? What Leroy qualities, real or imagined, might I adopt to improve myself as a human?

Where are you, Leroy? I have some questions.

Superman? Superwoman? Super! -

I have known people who considered themselves to be intrinsically better than others. Not better in some particular way, such as running or balancing a checkbook. They actually believed themselves better. Superior. Entitled. Worthy of respect just by virtue of their superior existence.

Now, I have actually been better than some other people at some things. Sometimes. Not particularly often. I usually stop trying to advance my skills past adequate. Once you can do something well enough to get by and get on, I don't see much need to aspire to higher levels of performance. It is my adequatitude.

I drive perfectionists nuts. Authoritarians don't particularly like my adequatitude, either. But, hey, if I am doing a thing well, meeting reasonable expectations, how much better can it be done? Hmm? I digress.

What, then, would be the characteristics of a truly superior person? Would they be sexually appealing to just about everyone? Male? Female? Young? Old? They would all lust after this super being.

Perfect hair? Even teeth of exceptional whiteness? What color would their skin have? How heavy the muscles on that perfectly proportioned frame? What is the perfect shape for this man or woman?

How would they speak? The voice, of course, would be perfect in timbre and pitch. What about the content of their communication? What would a super being think and talk about? Could everyone everywhere be compelled to listen to the perfect voice speaking with perfect erudition? How could they not? And, they would understand every perfect word.

At first consideration this being should be quite appealing to be around. Yet, would you want to work next to such a person? They would be perfect, and superior to yourself. Looking better, speaking better. Being intrinsically superior they would always do things better than you can.

There would be one consolation. Since they will always be promoted over you (due to their perfection) they would have to be the perfect boss. After all, this person is perfect in every way!

I, for one, cannot recall ever meeting a superior person. I have been under the authority of persons referred to as my superiors, but I can't recall a one who was superior to myself. Oh, they sometimes had more particular knowledge or a better skills set than I did at the time, but none were truly superior. Not in any way I could see.

That reminds me of a story. Old men always have a story.

A woman of some wealth, and the belief that said wealth demanded others to give way, was shopping in a store. She was growing frustrated with the clerk in the store, as he insisted in meeting her as an equal for whom he was performing a service.

"I demand to see your superior!" the woman finally shouted in exasperation.

"Madam, I have no superiors." replied the clerk, calmly. "And damned few equals."

Bada-bum!

I don't know about you, but I prefer a world of varied and interesting people, with diverse skills and interests. I also prefer to meet them as equals, in a place where we perform services for one another from time to time. A world where people assume authority with responsibility, not to compensate for their own inadequacies but with the purpose of serving their diverse and interesting equals. A world where people submit to authority for the purpose of working together better, not out of fear or by the compulsion of some inflated ego.

It ain't gonna happen, but wouldn't that be just about perfect? We could all be supermen and superwomen. Equally superior!

Super!

Perspective-

When I was growing up images like this one appeared in news reels, movies and other film formats to serve as icons of progress and prosperity. By the time I completed high school images like this represented the rape of the Earth and destruction of the environment.

That is not a huge span of time. Two decades, perhaps a bit less. The period of industrialization was much longer, of course. I just happened to come into being around the time of transition. I have the benefit of experiencing two different states of being. Two different ways of thinking.

I had the benefit of seeing things from two different perspectives.

I have also had the opportunity to see the coming of what might be called the digital era. I recall a time when electronic computers were just coming into being. Computing machines had existed a bit longer, but the computer as we know it (more or less) came into being about the same time I did.

In high school we had a very early computer to experiment with. The available memory was measured in bits, not bytes. We fed in our programs and data with switches or paper tapes on a teletype machine. Additionally, we had access to a remote data processing machine. We attached the phone to cups on the modem, and fed our programs and data into the remote machine by using punch cards.

My cell phone is smarter than any of those machines.

I recall seeing a central processor made of wires and little magnetic rings. It was as big as a Volkswagen van. It weighed as much as a Volkswagen van. It was noisy when it operated, those thousands of little metal rings flipping and flopping between states.

I sit here, communicating with the whole world using my personal computer. I have two, a desk top and a netbook. I have a home network sharing the Internet and other resources between six computers. I have over a terabyte of storage. I take it for granted and at the same time live in constant amazement.

We are probably on the dividing line between major world views right now. Perhaps the transition from fossil fuels to (?). I suspect that (?) will prove to by hydrogen, but I may not live long enough to see the full transition. Lots of other things are going on. Change often appears to be the only constant.

My grandfather, Carl Laatz, was for many years a television repair man. Yep. In ancient days they actually fixed those things. They didn't just throw them out (and recycle, of course). He was there in the era of radio, when enthusiasts were really into that technology. He saw television come into being. Grandpa Laatz had his own shop, and fixing radios and televisions was a decent way to make a living. He saw television go main stream.

I grew up always having a television. Oh, I saw changes. However, I did not experience the transition. I have only one perspective with regard to television, though I have a lot of different opinions about it as a medium.

These are just examples of how our perspective impacts not only the way we think about things, but what we think about. The limits of perspective can often influence our judgement regarding other people in other places and other times. We can sometimes draw false conclusions due to our perspective, and as a consequence never really understand other people and other eras.

In mathematics there exists "perspectives," or frameworks of reference. There are mathematical tools to allow for transforming mathematical perspectives. To transform our perspectives relative to other people and other times we have to use another set of tools. The art of research and more importantly imagination.

I have known people who cherished their own perspectives so greatly as to never allow for any other. I am sure they have their reasons, but I have preferred to expand my learning and apply my imagination for the sake of better understanding people, places and times. Most of the time it has simply been an enrichment of my own life. I live with the hope, however, that on occasion it has made a real difference to someone, somewhere, sometime.

Perspective. It is all in how you look at it.

Happiness-

Some time back I watched a television program in which the idea of happiness was examined. There was some argument for an inherited aptitude for happiness in humans. It was an interesting idea, somewhat supported by my own experiences in an impromptu laboratory. I have been in jail for almost twenty years now, an officer with the opportunity to observe.

I tend to have a significant degree of circumspection in my life. I examine it constantly, assessing and evaluating and contemplating. Perhaps even obsessively. While I can point to many periods and even more moments of contentment, I cannot point to extended periods of happiness. I can point to even fewer periods (and even moments) of ecstasy, but I don't think that very many of us expect to be ecstatic most of the time.

Having observed humans for quite some time, many of whom were going through some of the lower periods in their lives, I can informally conclude that happiness is an occasional experience, at best. This is not a bad thing. Those who framed the Constitution recognized that the pursuit of happiness framed our lives, not the realization. It is a state to which we aspire, and as a consequence of our efforts many good things happen.

Today I experienced happiness. I was shopping at Safeway, receiving periodic messages from the family visiting Disneyland. I observed a number of big, burly daddies with their daughters, and then stepped outside into the sunshine. I loaded my groceries into the truck, responded to a message on my phone, looked around, and realized that I was happy.

For some reason I was just happy. I cannot say why. I know I was not ecstatic. I know I was more than content. I was happy. I was happy that my family was having a good experience. I was happy to be alive. I was just happy. It was nice, and it has lasted through the afternoon. I am delighted by that.

I have reviewed some blogs, edited some photos and albums. I have been content, and even happy. I have realized (fortunately not for the first time) that I have a very good life. I also realized that, should my life end soon, it has been disproportionately good.

In the context of the world, I have been lucky. In the context of my Christian faith, I have been blessed. Perhaps other contexts might give me another word or two, but the essence of my observations today is that I am happy.

I cannot discount my recent decision to retire from Corrections. I get out of jail on February 5, 2010. This decision may well have opened my capacity for happiness. Jail is a hard place to live, and I can easily see forces contrary to happiness working there. Yes, that decision may well have liberated my psyche to be happy.

My hope is that my days may be long on the Earth. I am content in the belief that I have done some good in my life, and that I have executed my responsibilities with honor. I have known love and have loved others.

Today I declare that life is good, and that I have attained (at least for a time) a state of happiness. In this moment I can thank God and my fellow humans for all of the good I have known, and cast behind me all of the evil I have known.

Will this last? Of course not. Life and all of its elements are transient.

That is what makes moments like these precious.

People who need people-

In reading my book on getting a literary agent, I learned about writers networking. A big part of the publishing process is involvement in the writing community. It is building a network of people to aid in the writing process by reading and critiquing your work. It is doing the same for them. It is building contacts and making friends.

I find this a bit daunting. I am far from a social being, and this is very challenging. Perhaps even a bit frightening and distasteful. Frightening because it is not comfortable. Distasteful because I really do prefer a lot of solitude.

It is also a lot of work, in addition to my writing. I am having to assess the whole process, and where I might fit within it. Had I a natural need for people, a social nature, it would be easier. Perhaps even desirable. As it is, I find it troublesome.

The process of getting published through the traditional routes is long. That in itself is not the problem. Jumping into the whole culture so late in life is a big deal for me. Getting the book read, getting feedback, and rewriting. Getting it into the hands of an agent, which in itself is a large task. Getting feedback (if I am lucky) and rewriting.

The publish on demand prospect is appealing, if only because it requires less in the way of networking and such. However, it is not generally a good path for those seeking real exposure.

I would be challenged to build a website and promote my book, largely on my own. I might find some readers, but really could not expect to get the book "out there" as well as the established pipelines of publication.

Then again, publishing is changing, and these new avenues and methods are part of that change.

There is no hurry. I must remind myself that writing the book was a goal in itself. It was a tool to overcome depression. It was largely successful, and has aided me a great deal just for that reason.

To be quite honest I find the self-publishing and marketing process more interesting. Perhaps it is because I can do so much of that through the convenience of the Internet. Not to mention that I would not be compelled to face the challenge of interpersonal interaction.

Ultimately I will face the challenge of stepping out of the comfort zone of isolation. It would be better if I hungered for the fellowship, but I do not. I am concerned about investing myself in others, and having my resources committed to them.

Perhaps that is what I really need. People.