Fissiparous

Okay, I'll admit it. I have a new "Word-Of-The-Day" calendar that I've just been dying to try out. I bought it a couple of months ago in preparation for two-thousand and ten - or twenty-ten or whatever...the new year, anyway and whatever you may choose to call it.

I thought this new calendar ideal for writers and wanna-be writers. Since I probably fit in there somewhere, I saw the word calendar as a great tool whereby I might also add to my perceived word-smith abilities. So far, the words for the first few days have if nothing else taken up some time as I read through the longer explanations of them.

Of course, whenever it comes to writing anything, I am reminded that the writer should never be trying to impress, but rather to simply reach the reader. Using big dollar words usually will do neither. But please bear with me. I do indeed have something in mind about today's word of the day.

The word "fissiparous"; when it entered the conversation sometime in the 19th century, had then essentially to do with reproduction. You'll probably associate this word with fission or with a dividing of something into separate parts which then each become a single unique organism. Bacteria might be a good example.

As time went on, though, the word began to be used to describe things that break into parts or cause something else to break into parts. And that's where this particular word began to hold some meaning for me.

So I will use the word in this latest way and let it go at that. I'm sure you can probably think of your own examples as well. At any rate, here is what amounts to a collective New Year's Resolution for America.

"May we as Americans resolve in this new year to try our very best to always speak publicly in such a manner that we hold out our unity rather than what it may be that divides us, for if we follow the same, tiring, unfortunate patterns of bickering and pointless arguing as we did in the past year, we may that find our arguments will have a FISSIPAROUS effect on not only us, but on the world at large."

Practice unity and not divisiveness, simply put. Perhaps the greatest weapon in our arsenal...

I Love the Hike, but --

Seems like these days, there's always a "well, yes, but" involved in whatever subject it is that may be under discussion. I'm told that my four-year-old grandson, while hiking up a mountain in California recently told his dad this little gem: "You know, I really love this hiking thing, but I really hate the walking".

I think that could be a statement that's not very hard to relate to these days. A lot of "for instances" quickly come to my mind. We could probably make all kinds of analogous comparisons in support of this "yes, but" idea. President Obama might say "I really love my job and giving speeches on a regular basis, but I hate all the criticism and the work that must come after all the talking". Tiger Woods might nod in agreement and say that "yes, I love the celebrity and the fame, but I hate the spotlight and all the prying into my private life; at least I sure do right now".

And even though my grandson was just being honest, as young kids are often prone to do at this early age, I think he probably hit upon something rather profound with his observation. And that is just this: We've become unable to enjoy the really great parts of life because we cannot seem to get over what it takes to actually first get there - and then to remain there long enough to enjoy our success.

We're always looking over our shoulder; unable to enjoy even the most fleeting moment of success. We're too worried about how much work it will probably take - and who may criticize us - or who might be looking over our shoulder, cramping our style and stealing our supposed privacy.

Our expectations for experiencing the enjoyment of the good things life has to offer us may have become unreasonably high. We seem to be capable of seeing things only in a very short-sighted way. We're looking for the easy way that doesn't require much from us. The bigger picture involved can often completely elude us. Or maybe we see it, alright - right squarely in front of us, but we're simply afraid to acknowledge what's actually involved in order to achieve it. Most of the time, of course, the underlying message is that success can mean more work than we're willing to invest.

Our thankfulness can thus only be with qualifications of a sort at best. There's little room to really see the success in a single moment because we fear we didn't do the work required of us to get there. Is this just a recent generational thing? Have we become spoiled to having achieved success without much or even any work being involved? Or have we always really been this way? Has life become so easy - or maybe so boring - we simply no longer care?

I'm not sure what the answers to these questions may be. What I do know is that I'm looking forward to the day that I actually may again hear a grown-up say they appreciate not only the arrival, but the hard trip it took to get there as well. For my young grandson, that could understandably take awhile. Clearly, he has some growing up to experience. But for everyone else who should know better by this point in their lives, the idea of expressing a love for both the hike and the walk as well is one that I believe is long overdue.

Just A Simple "Thanks"

Maybe I'm just getting into the spirit of Thanksgiving a little early. Then again, maybe I've just simply lost all track of time. But this post is just to say "thanks". After all, I think it doesn't really have to be a once-a-year thing. We've somehow made it into that, I think, and sometimes I wonder why.

Anyway, thanks to my followers on this blog; all three of them - as of today. I appreciate the fact that you actually take the time to read what I'm sure can be some very tedious stuff I put out here on occasion.

And a big thanks to my fans out on allvoices.com. And to the 140,000 plus readers on allvoices that I've picked up in more than 156 countries all over the world over about the last four months. I love getting both your good comments (of course) and your bad ones. I take them all very seriously and appreciate that it takes a real commitment to read anything and to think about it a bit.

I appreciate the 320,000 readers of some of my now dated poetry on lovepoetry.com. Thanks for me being able to somehow stumble across that poetry site ten years after I'd posted some of my work. It was just one of those readers who took the time to tell me what something I wrote meant to her. And what she had to say to me paid me handsomely for my efforts.

Thanks to my sweetie, too. Forty-four years of anything is really something, but when that's forty-four years of having to put up with yours truly, well, that's truly an amazing feat. Thanks to my super-kids and my even super-er grand kids. Wondering why I have been so fortunate to know and love these one-of-a-kind very special people sometimes keeps me up at night thinking about it. But that's something worth losing a little sleep over.

Thanks to allvoices and to all the other "writerly-type" websites that allow me a forum to say exactly what I want to say. I am a little bit fearful that somewhere on down the road we may not necessarily be able to take that precious freedom for granted as we do now. And to me, that's a very scary prospect indeed.

Finally, I would like to thank my last boss who shall here, remain nameless. If he had been anything more than what he was, I wouldn't be sitting here typing this post right now. All of the experiences of working for him helped me to be able to open my eyes and to get busy observing life and writing about what I see out there.

I am the ultimate dichotomy; I'm both super-rich and dirt-poor. I am rich in the precious time I now have to reflect on the past sixty three years and to truly think about what it all means as I never have before. I'm also poor in terms of financial and material resources, which I have decided, after all, can never really be one's first priority in the first place. A footnote: I can sometimes be a very slow learner.

I love writing. I love all of my relationships; with fans, friends and family. I love life. Now, I ask you - how many people are in such a position as to be able to be so very thankful for what they truly enjoy at this very moment in their lives?

On Writing About Religion

One of the subjects I normally avoid whenever I write is religion. I've been at it for awhile now, though, and in spite of a lot of criticism, perhaps warranted or otherwise for the content of a few of my articles on allvoices.com, I seem to be no worse for wear.

Like a lot of people, my attitudes about religion in general have changed over the years. I'm sure that for some, that's a somewhat troublesome fact. It's been my experience that change is something that doesn't sit well when you're talking about religion.

Even so, the more I read, and write, the more concerned I've become over elements of religion and their interaction with politics and government. And yes, I know there are a number of different religions that embrace the idea of religion and government being able to co-exist.

I happen not to be one who does, however. Of course, I've always thought that church and state are supposed to be two separate things, but in recent years I've seen more of a blurring of those lines of demarcation. Some are not bothered much by that; I am.

The danger as I see it in writing about religion, of course, is that you may offend someone. Yet more and more I see what I term as "religious" folks not too similarly concerned about offending anyone in particular.

More than anything else, it is the radical views that rub me the wrong way. And no, I'm not talking about "those" who happen not to inhabit the mainstream churches. In fact, it is precisely those to whom I've directed my recent (today, October 15) article on allvoices.com.

But most of my readers around the world will probably take what I've said better than those in major and mainstream churches. I think it could be because they are likely to have a very different perception of the world than most Americans.

So I guess I've broken one of my own "commandments" in that I had decided early on I would avoid the subject of religion. I actually feel pretty good about what I said. I tried to be very fair and honest in every word I wrote in the article. Yet I am quite sure I will offend some one's better sensibilities to the contrary.

The article, incidentally, is entitled "Changing Your World: Radical Religious Revolutionaries" if anyone cares to read it, and again you can find it on allvoices.com/users/vernoncrumrine. I'm ready for all the outrageous slings and arrows and "thumbs-downs" and inevitable sometimes rude and indignant comments I'm almost sure to receive.

Maybe that means that I've grown as a writer. I prefer to think it means I've grown as a person.

More Than Happy

"Oh, I'd be more than happy to do that". How can that be? Exactly what, after all, is "more than happy"? Yet George Carlin once observed that we regularly say things like this without really thinking. Carlin said that to him, it sounded like a very dangerous mental condition.

We may not need to do something quite so rash as put someone in restraints like Carlin suggested. But maybe we do need to think a bit more about what it is we're saying. Writing commentaries on allvoices.com on a daily basis, I tend to say a lot nowadays.

I "say" things through my writing. Although I tend to stoop to the easy "tried and true" turn of the phrase, I try hard to clarify my intentions whenever I write. Whenever I proof my articles and commentaries, I always try to read them from a very critical viewpoint.

That means that I may write something that sounds just fine in my head. But when I sit down and re-read it and think about what I've said, I often scrap the whole article. So maybe the question of the day doesn't necessarily focus on why we use popular, trite expressions.

The question may instead be: should we not say anything at all if we're unable to truly say precisely what we mean? If you happen to disagree with me on this, I'd be "more than happy" to rethink my position. It could be that we're just good with superlatives. Like the "thank you" and the "oh no - thank YOU".

One upmanship? Habit? The easy way out? The best we can do? Something to perhaps ponder on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday afternoon...

About Lemonade Stands and Grand Kids

There's perhaps nothing more apple-pie and American, for kids at least, than setting up shop with an impromptu lemonade stand in front of a willing adults home. When those kids happen to be five cousins, aged 4 to 9 years, you really can't honestly expect things to go off without a hitch. But you can expect to possibly encounter a couple of unexpected, yet pleasant surprises along the way.

Today, of course, was no exception. We all had our moments, myself included. But as the temperature approaches 104 degrees this afternoon, it's probably a very good thing the five kids split their modest profits a couple of hours ago and decided to call it a day. With a little help from the initial capital contributed by Papa and Nana, they managed to walk away with $2.08 each after a just couple of hours of work.

Yet it will be the memories they made today which will in time be priceless. Of course, they don't really know that yet, and they won't likely realize that for many more years to come. There were the usual worries about no one coming by, and the real possibility of just sitting there for nothing. Tyler, the oldest of the five cousins waited for all of a couple of minutes before expressing his opinion that they were probably just wasting their time.

Anika, the oldest of the two girls couldn't accept that idea though, and took off down the sidewalk on a streamer-bedecked scooter, with a lemonade sign attached to the front, trying to drum up a little business. Calleigh, a couple of years younger than her cousin, thought it would be a great idea to knock on a few doors, but I quickly discouraged that idea, it being still early on a Saturday morning.

Calleigh's brother Carson, the second oldest of the boys, seemed to tire of the whole idea rather quickly and retired to the air-conditioned comfort of our living room to play video games. He would pop out every now and then to check on things, but seemed to have the good sense to try to stay cool and just kind of supervise the operation from a distance.

Tanner, the youngest of the bunch was more than content to try just a little bit of just everything, but for the most part he busied himself with sampling the contents of the icy pitcher on the folding table. If we could have counted customers from the mounting pile of his discarded cups at the end of the day, they would've appeared to have done pretty well.

Our house is situated on a very quiet, short cross street, which probably didn't help to bring much traffic or to help the kid's cause all that much. Of course, as you might expect, I bought much more than my fair share of lemonade, as did two of our nearby neighbors, my wife, and relatively late in the game, the moms and dads of the five grand kids.

We also had a couple of strangers who insisted on significantly overpaying for the tart, pink brew. One guy seemed to somehow materialize out of nowhere and quickly downed a couple of cups. He handed over a dollar, and refused to even consider accepting any change. He was wearing an old straw hat and it hardly appeared to me that this guy could maybe have been an angel. But I did have to at least wonder when he managed to disappear as quickly as he had first appeared.

I had encouraged the kids to price their product fairly, and after much discussion on the subject, they had finally settled on a price of fifteen cents a cup. Tanner, though, in an apparent attempt to pump up their relatively meager profits a bit, tried to charge his mom twenty-nine dollars for a single cup when she asked about making a purchase. Everyone laughed at his supposed four-year-old naivete, but I firmly believe that the little guy probably knew what he was doing.

Probably the highlight of the day, though, at least for me, was the tale of the car that came back. This one car had already driven by our house, then braked slightly, turning down a nearby alleyway. A couple of minutes later the car had apparently circled back and reappeared, stopping at our front curb. Three smiling twenty-somethings emerged from the Chevy sedan; two young women and a young man.

They got out of their car, saying that they simply couldn't not come back. The young man said, "this has got to be the cutest thing I've ever seen." I believe that he meant it. Even if he'd said nothing, I could have read it in his face. The two women took their time getting acquainted with the little guys in the stand as they downed a cup or two apiece of the sweet stuff. When they had finished, the man offered the kids a five dollar bill in payment for three or four really tiny cups of lemonade, and simply would not take more than a dollar back in change.

We all hear the difficult stories about this tough economy; how people are watching every dime. We don't seem to want to take the time to slow down a little, at least most of us don't, not even for a moment or two, and stop to see for ourselves first-hand that the world is still really pretty much okay. We all seem to get too busy taking care of our own problems. And yet the small exchanges that I witnessed today proved to me that the same spirit that has always driven Americans in their inborn desire to fully express and reveal their humanity is alive and well.

I saw all of this on this very hot Saturday morning, and I saw it revealed in both the kids and in the adults as well. This very simple exchange managed to convince me that we will somehow emerge from what appear now to be our impossible problems stronger than ever before. In just a scant couple of minutes, all of my doubts about tomorrow were suddenly, very firmly, simply erased. I watched from my lawn chair and listened intently to this very ordinary, yet at the same time extraordinary event happening right in front of my eyes. I think I was able to reaffirm that we still do know how to talk to each other, after all; that we still do know how to gently encourage each other with little more than a smile; and perhaps most importantly of all, I saw that we still do care very much about each other's problems; even if those problems belong to someone we don't personally know.

I suppose that sometimes, it can take the openness and innocence of the very young to remind us of our own greatness and of our boundless capability to love our fellow man. Sometimes, it is the kids among us who have to quite literally grasp our stubborn heads in their two hands, look us in the eye and quietly tell us things are not really that bad; that we're going to be all right. Sometimes, we have to try very hard to simply remember what it was like being a kid, using our imagination to step back into another freer time, into those exhilarating, fun, but confusing and sometimes scary years -- if only for a vaporous fleeting moment.

Sometimes all we really need on a hot summer's day is just a lemonade stand...

Worth A Closer Read and a Closer Look

This one is for both the guys and the gals. I know that must make me sound very dated and politically incorrect, so maybe I should have said for the men and women, or gentlemen and ladies, or even the boys and girls.

Anyway, in the August 2009 issue of Esquire there is one incredibly well-written article by, of all people, Mary-Louise Parker. She wrote a kind of open letter to men, I suppose, entitled "A Thank-You Note to Men".

While the guys (or boys) are sure to appreciate the photo shoot of Mary-Louise busily baking a pie, they may have to be redirected to the actual words I'm talking about, but the gals (or girls), I feel sure, will express their fair share of "awwwwsss" when they read this one.

A very brief excerpt: ...(to) you who have promised to slay unfortunate interlopers and dragons with your Phillips head or Montblanc; ...

And one more:...to the ones who grew me, consumed me, gave me my heart back times ten;...

I always appreciated the woman's looks, I'll have to admit. But now, I can honesty say that I also appreciate her mind. This is truly some fine writing that only ladies and gentlemen (or women and men) can appreciate. I guarantee that you will like it.

If you happen not to have a subscription or are just too cheap to purchase the magazine, then email me and I'll see that you receive a copy of the letter in its entirety. How's that for curb-side service on a blog?

Bet you've never seen that before...