As the presidential race narrowed to two Democratic candidates, there was some speculation about a Clinton / Obama ticket, but now with the changing political fortunes of Hillary Clinton, the speculation of an Obama /Clinton ticket is rising. Would Hillary accept the second spot on the ticket, if she should lose the Democratic nomination? Would Barack even offer it to her?
Either way, we sit on the edge of one of those moments in history when a black man and a white woman dare to crash through years of prejudice and tradition where one of them may just become the most powerful leader in the free world. Would Hillary Clinton still see the number two spot as a historic advancement for women if it were offered to her?
I think the momentum shifted to Obama after McCain practically wrapped up the Republican nomination for president. Many Democrats worry that Hillary might just unite the republican factions that detest McCain for not being a true conservative. Democrats see Obama as a new face with no divisive “baggage” to weigh him down in a close and contentious presidential race where the Republicans have everything to lose and very little to gain. Would Obama see Hillary in the number two spot as a historic opportunity or a liability against the “old maverick” McCain?
Another thing for Hillary to consider, if she seeks only the power of the presidency, is that Vice-President Cheney has done very well over the last seven years. He has turned the number two spot into a very powerful position indeed. It will be hard for any future Vice-President to sit in a closet and twiddle his thumbs, after Dick Cheney’s time in office.
Don’t you just love politics?
FOOD for THOUGHT...
Monday, February 25, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Extraordinary Measures
Another member of our Alamo family passed away this week. It has been a rough few weeks at my workplace. A well liked, long time employee went to see his doctor only a few months ago for a shoulder problem. An MRI revealed tumors in his shoulder and a full body scan discovered that cancer had spread to other parts of his body including his spine and brain.
He opted for surgery to remove at least one of the tumors. While he was in the hospital, he suffered a stroke. He lost so much weight that the doctors had to force-feed him to bring his weight back up so that they could start him on a course of chemotherapy and radiation. It was too late and the treatments did not help. Last week, unable to breathe, he was placed on a ventilator and this Sunday his family pulled the plug and allowed him to pass away. The cancer took him so quickly and we mourn his loss.
There is no way I could second guess his mindset or his doctor’s, having been diagnosed with such a devastating illness moving at such a rapid pace. Modern medicine can work miracles and many kinds of cancer can be treated very successfully. People survive their cancer and go on to live healthy, productive lives. However, seeing all the extraordinary efforts that he was put through, it made me think what I would choose to do, if I were in his place. It is a sobering thought. Would I choose a very slim hope at best, knowing that my life would be hell, or would I surrender to the overwhelming odds and try to pass from this world as peacefully and pain free as possible?
There is a lot to be said for modern medicine and fighting the good fight right up to the very end for any kind of a hope, but where does quality of life and dignity come into the equation? The cynic in me wonders if such measures would even have been considered if the patient had no insurance and no family. When do heroic measures to save a life become too much? When do they cross over that line and violate a physician’s Hippocratic Oath of “first, do no harm?”
What a treacherous tightrope we ask our modern medicine men and women to walk these days. In olden days, there were no such options and choices for treatment other than making the patient as comfortable as possible. Once, a patient could expect to pass peacefully in his own bed, surrounded by his friends and family, if he was so blessed. Today’s medical protocols dictate that patients be poked, prodded, poisoned and radiated almost to the point of death in the hope of saving their lives. Today, they often pass away in sterile hospital rooms surrounded by beeping equipment and overworked hospital staff. I wonder if someday future medical schools will look upon our chemotherapy and radiation treatments the way they now view bleeding a patient of his “bad humor” in the 1800’s.
At what point do we begin to treat the patient...instead of his disease?
We will miss you Bruce. Blessings to you, my friend, for a peaceful passing.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
He opted for surgery to remove at least one of the tumors. While he was in the hospital, he suffered a stroke. He lost so much weight that the doctors had to force-feed him to bring his weight back up so that they could start him on a course of chemotherapy and radiation. It was too late and the treatments did not help. Last week, unable to breathe, he was placed on a ventilator and this Sunday his family pulled the plug and allowed him to pass away. The cancer took him so quickly and we mourn his loss.
There is no way I could second guess his mindset or his doctor’s, having been diagnosed with such a devastating illness moving at such a rapid pace. Modern medicine can work miracles and many kinds of cancer can be treated very successfully. People survive their cancer and go on to live healthy, productive lives. However, seeing all the extraordinary efforts that he was put through, it made me think what I would choose to do, if I were in his place. It is a sobering thought. Would I choose a very slim hope at best, knowing that my life would be hell, or would I surrender to the overwhelming odds and try to pass from this world as peacefully and pain free as possible?
There is a lot to be said for modern medicine and fighting the good fight right up to the very end for any kind of a hope, but where does quality of life and dignity come into the equation? The cynic in me wonders if such measures would even have been considered if the patient had no insurance and no family. When do heroic measures to save a life become too much? When do they cross over that line and violate a physician’s Hippocratic Oath of “first, do no harm?”
What a treacherous tightrope we ask our modern medicine men and women to walk these days. In olden days, there were no such options and choices for treatment other than making the patient as comfortable as possible. Once, a patient could expect to pass peacefully in his own bed, surrounded by his friends and family, if he was so blessed. Today’s medical protocols dictate that patients be poked, prodded, poisoned and radiated almost to the point of death in the hope of saving their lives. Today, they often pass away in sterile hospital rooms surrounded by beeping equipment and overworked hospital staff. I wonder if someday future medical schools will look upon our chemotherapy and radiation treatments the way they now view bleeding a patient of his “bad humor” in the 1800’s.
At what point do we begin to treat the patient...instead of his disease?
We will miss you Bruce. Blessings to you, my friend, for a peaceful passing.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
A Death in the Family
Last week there was a death in the family. As I arrived for work, I learned that a well-liked employee had died by his own hand the night before. Our Alamo family was rocked by the news. Our friend and fellow employee was an outgoing and upbeat man who greeted you with a smile and a handshake. “What’s up, man? How’re you doing, sir?” He always had a smile, joke or a funny story, but those of us who worked with him, also knew him as a caring, compassionate man, someone you could talk to.
Many of us were unaware of his personal problems and the pain he was experiencing. His cheerful exterior gave no hint of the dark place in which he had fallen. Many felt guilt that if only they had known, if only they could have talked to him...he might still be with us. Others expressed anger and outrage at his shortsighted selfishness. How could he do this to his kids? Didn’t he think about them?
Having survived the dark side of divorce, I know the kind of anger, pain and darkness that can settle in and blind someone to the truth: that this too shall pass. When our lives seem so empty, so devoid of hope, our mind can convince us that there is only one way to find relief from the suffering. But, it is a lie. Unseen because of pain, we fail to realize the promise of new beginnings, a clean slate, a blank page on which to write the next chapter of our lives. We fail to embrace our pain, acknowledge it, learn from it...and let it go. Instead, we feel stuck, unable to move.
I was fortunate. I caught a glimpse of the other side of my pain. I trusted in the promise that everything would be okay. I survived the darkness and the pain to find a truly remarkable beginning that was better than okay.
We will miss you, Daniel. Via con Dios, Amigo!
FOOD for THOUGHT...
Many of us were unaware of his personal problems and the pain he was experiencing. His cheerful exterior gave no hint of the dark place in which he had fallen. Many felt guilt that if only they had known, if only they could have talked to him...he might still be with us. Others expressed anger and outrage at his shortsighted selfishness. How could he do this to his kids? Didn’t he think about them?
Having survived the dark side of divorce, I know the kind of anger, pain and darkness that can settle in and blind someone to the truth: that this too shall pass. When our lives seem so empty, so devoid of hope, our mind can convince us that there is only one way to find relief from the suffering. But, it is a lie. Unseen because of pain, we fail to realize the promise of new beginnings, a clean slate, a blank page on which to write the next chapter of our lives. We fail to embrace our pain, acknowledge it, learn from it...and let it go. Instead, we feel stuck, unable to move.
I was fortunate. I caught a glimpse of the other side of my pain. I trusted in the promise that everything would be okay. I survived the darkness and the pain to find a truly remarkable beginning that was better than okay.
We will miss you, Daniel. Via con Dios, Amigo!
FOOD for THOUGHT...
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Reinventing My Life
How many of us are who we were even five years ago? Ten years ago? Twenty years ago? I suggest that most, if not all of us, have changed. We have reinvented our lives. Where we live, the jobs we work, the relationships we are in, change and will continue to change over time. If there is anything consistent about life...it is change. I find it remarkable to consider who I am now compared to who I was then.
In my life, I have lived over a restaurant, on a chicken farm and in an upper middle class, suburban house. I have lived in college dorm rooms, rented condos and small one-bedroom apartments. I have owned my own house. I have lived in a small town in Central Illinois, a beautiful home in Northern Illinois and a comfortable three-bedroom ranch in the sprawling suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. Today, I am in my own home, in a charming old neighborhood on the southeast side of San Antonio, Texas. I have traveled to Europe, Mexico, Canada and the Caribbean. There are more places that I would like to see and live before I leave this world, but each place has left its mark on me and helped to shape who I am now.
I have had a lot of careers, jobs and professions in my 56 years of life. Not counting 16 years as a student, I have worked on a chicken farm, raised Berkshire hogs, pumped gasoline at a service station and sold subscriptions to the Chicago Sun Times over the phone. I have been a customer service representative, an inside salesman and a purchasing agent. For 15 years, I worked in the corporate world as a buyer for Honeywell and a senior buyer for Motorola. I made some big bucks and I have lived from paycheck to paycheck. When I left the corporate world, I became a freelance writer and worked as a tour guide for a historic mansion. Today, I work as a historical interpreter at the Alamo Shrine in San Antonio, Texas. I am a published author. I wrote a book about the Alamo and I am considering my next new creative projects. I think it has finally dawned on me that who we are should not be defined by a job title. At best, it can only be a bookmarker in an endless volume of reinvented lives.
My relationships have grown, taken shape and blossomed since I was a child. Some have lasted and some have ended. People have come and gone during my time on this planet. I believe that each person has come into my life for a reason. Each person has had something to teach me. I have enjoyed knowing and have grieved the loss of my great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and even my own parents. I have lost friends and colleagues. I have been a son, a brother, an uncle, a father, a father-in-law and now... a grandpa. I have been engaged, married and divorced more than once. I have known love, joy and heartache. I have been in the depths of despair and now know the quiet, gentle love of my wife, Lisa, as we create our new lives here in Texas. Each relationship becomes a part of my history and who I am.
What I believe has also evolved over time. I was baptized as a Presbyterian when I was very young. I was confirmed in the United Church of Christ. I married a Catholic and attended a Jewish Marriage Encounter. I even served as an elder in a small Lutheran Church. I attended a small congregation of Universalist Unitarians or UU’s, as they tend to be called. Since moving to Texas, Lisa and I have attended a Quaker church, a Ba’Hi gathering, two UU churches and the Unity Church of San Antonio. You might say that my faith background is a mixed bag of beliefs. What I currently believe has been influenced and supplemented by New Age thinkers and writers like Dr. Wayne Dyer, Eckart Tolle, James Redfield, Gary Zukav and Deepak Chopra, to name but a few. The older I get, the more I realize that what I believe can no longer be contained by one religion, faith, ritual or tradition. My spiritual growth has only just begun and will be without end. I believe in the absolute power of LOVE and that every one of us is a part of the whole.
My life has been truly amazing. I have been so many different people at different times in my life. I have gone from being the carefree college student running up and down Warren Dunes on summer break to the father of two young girls living in suburbia, to the grandfather in San Antonio searching for pecans in the front yard with his granddaughter. My life has been one wonderful reinvention after another. And so it goes.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
In my life, I have lived over a restaurant, on a chicken farm and in an upper middle class, suburban house. I have lived in college dorm rooms, rented condos and small one-bedroom apartments. I have owned my own house. I have lived in a small town in Central Illinois, a beautiful home in Northern Illinois and a comfortable three-bedroom ranch in the sprawling suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. Today, I am in my own home, in a charming old neighborhood on the southeast side of San Antonio, Texas. I have traveled to Europe, Mexico, Canada and the Caribbean. There are more places that I would like to see and live before I leave this world, but each place has left its mark on me and helped to shape who I am now.
I have had a lot of careers, jobs and professions in my 56 years of life. Not counting 16 years as a student, I have worked on a chicken farm, raised Berkshire hogs, pumped gasoline at a service station and sold subscriptions to the Chicago Sun Times over the phone. I have been a customer service representative, an inside salesman and a purchasing agent. For 15 years, I worked in the corporate world as a buyer for Honeywell and a senior buyer for Motorola. I made some big bucks and I have lived from paycheck to paycheck. When I left the corporate world, I became a freelance writer and worked as a tour guide for a historic mansion. Today, I work as a historical interpreter at the Alamo Shrine in San Antonio, Texas. I am a published author. I wrote a book about the Alamo and I am considering my next new creative projects. I think it has finally dawned on me that who we are should not be defined by a job title. At best, it can only be a bookmarker in an endless volume of reinvented lives.
My relationships have grown, taken shape and blossomed since I was a child. Some have lasted and some have ended. People have come and gone during my time on this planet. I believe that each person has come into my life for a reason. Each person has had something to teach me. I have enjoyed knowing and have grieved the loss of my great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and even my own parents. I have lost friends and colleagues. I have been a son, a brother, an uncle, a father, a father-in-law and now... a grandpa. I have been engaged, married and divorced more than once. I have known love, joy and heartache. I have been in the depths of despair and now know the quiet, gentle love of my wife, Lisa, as we create our new lives here in Texas. Each relationship becomes a part of my history and who I am.
What I believe has also evolved over time. I was baptized as a Presbyterian when I was very young. I was confirmed in the United Church of Christ. I married a Catholic and attended a Jewish Marriage Encounter. I even served as an elder in a small Lutheran Church. I attended a small congregation of Universalist Unitarians or UU’s, as they tend to be called. Since moving to Texas, Lisa and I have attended a Quaker church, a Ba’Hi gathering, two UU churches and the Unity Church of San Antonio. You might say that my faith background is a mixed bag of beliefs. What I currently believe has been influenced and supplemented by New Age thinkers and writers like Dr. Wayne Dyer, Eckart Tolle, James Redfield, Gary Zukav and Deepak Chopra, to name but a few. The older I get, the more I realize that what I believe can no longer be contained by one religion, faith, ritual or tradition. My spiritual growth has only just begun and will be without end. I believe in the absolute power of LOVE and that every one of us is a part of the whole.
My life has been truly amazing. I have been so many different people at different times in my life. I have gone from being the carefree college student running up and down Warren Dunes on summer break to the father of two young girls living in suburbia, to the grandfather in San Antonio searching for pecans in the front yard with his granddaughter. My life has been one wonderful reinvention after another. And so it goes.
FOOD for THOUGHT...
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