by Al Van Dyk | Jul 21, 2020 | Light and Fluffy
Essentially, Non-Essential
All animals are equal. Some are more equal than others.
G. Orwell, Animal Farm; 1944
Who is keeping you out? Who is it that told you that you were non-essential? Was it an ineffective supervisor, an ego-centric bureaucrat, or maybe even a braggadocios family member? If it feels like it’s a slam, it is. It’s a twist on an age-old problem. How efficiently and effectively can one group of people influence public opinion in a way that makes the others look and feel sub-human? We are free to get a second opinion, are we not? Doesn’t everyone deserve a chance to be included in the in-group?
It really isn’t an exclusive club, we can self-designate. We can simply declare ourselves to be essential, and wha-la, we are. Of course, there is a form that the state will require, a DNA sample to collect and a fee that they will need to pry from our hands. But to the best of my knowledge, there are no entrance exams, no jack-booted thugs checking credentials, no stooges tracking our movements. My apologies if I offended any thugs or stooges, whether they are jack-booted or are sporting the latest in thong footwear. I suppose that even thugs and stooges need affirmation now and then.
If it seems too easy to join, maybe because it is. In George Orwell’s classic book Animal Farm, words, phrases, and their meaning are frequently changed by those in power to keep firmly them ensconced in their roles. It still happens today.
Undeniably, Big Brother and the thought leaders of our day, who with their lofty titles clamored that they were essential, got everything wrong. From the simple arithmetic used in their forecasting models to the belief that we middle-class peasants would heed their advice and ready ourselves for the next self-inflicted wound; they were wrong. Now proven to be demonstrably inept and blatantly deceitful, they lack the moral clarity to deliver just the facts in a manner that’s believable and actionable. Yet they still hold office or are given an audience to those who do. Meanwhile, their groupies in the media are off to the public relations quagmire so they remain essential.
In the information age, those that control the dialog will control the agenda. Now is the time solidify the definition of the word essential by speaking truth into non-sense by providing concrete examples that will silence that feckless supervisor, ego-centric bureaucrat, or braggadocios family member once and for all. Here are a few things to consider if you need validation that you are in fact essential.
- If you get up every day and strive for self-sufficiency, work to feed your family, educate, and ground them in your faith…you are essential.
- If a member of the elite, ask you to do something not for the public good but for their self-interests that is in violation of an edict, and you refuse…you are essential.
- If you are helping someone file an unemployment claim, and because of your tenacity, you were able to reach a human…you are essential.
- If your job is to perform to sign language, translating to hearing-impaired the idiosyncrasies of your states’ latest Shelter in Place directives, but feel compelled to allow your hands and fingers to go rogue and communicate a message of their own… you are essential.
- If you hold a job at an essential retailer, a dispensary, you open before noon for those who prefer to spend their waking hours in a chemically induced fog as a coping mechanism to dull the pain from just about everything…you are essential.
- If you have held a job or owned a business and have been able to balance a checkbook since you had a paper route, your business acumen exceeds that of the ruling class…you are essential.
- If you think that there is an absence of civil discourse…you are essential.
- If you disagree with the conventional wisdom, that moving about in an open and free society is a sure-fire way to get you an audience with the Grim Reaper…you are essential.
- If you learned that there are times that you need to turn off the TV so the mindless blather stops…you are essential.
- If you only buy the amount of toilet paper that you can reasonably consume during the next decade…you are essential.
Thanks for your patience. I know I ran a little long. Occasionally, we all need the affirmation that we are relevant, capable, and yes, even essential.
—<>—
Thanks for reading, liking and sharing,
We will have to give Ivy a break on this one. She got stymied by the first sentence. As a therapy dog, she sees herself as a first responder of sorts.
Al and his faithful, but ever-vigilant sidekick, Ivy the Wonder Pup
I don’t think snakes will ever be equal to a retriever, Ivy. They are just raw material for a new pair of boots.
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by Al Van Dyk | Jun 30, 2020 | Attitude is Everything
” I understand that you have a problem.
The Caretaker
I do, do I? And what exactly is my problem, I thought. Couldn’t he see the elephant— it was right there in front of him — standing between him and I. Briefly, I stopped what I was doing, vacuuming my pool on a scorching summer day, to see who made such an unexpected statement.
A gift
It was an older gentleman, older than I, employed by a neighboring condominium community to tend to their property. I could see he was sincere, and he meant well but maybe was unsure how to bridge the subject. “I have a secret,” I thought. “Is that the problem that you are referring to?”
He didn’t really need me to tell him about my problem, or my secret. In his own way, he was telling me that he knew. I could have blurted out an answer to make him go away, after all, I had matters under control. Had I not entertained his statement, I would have missed out on the why behind his desire too freely give. He wanted to be a blessing to honor someone close to him for reasons he would soon share. If I had responded with anything but sincere gratitude, I would have missed the rest of the story.
Freely Given
At times, it feels like there are invisible hands that find me, that help with me with tasks that are more difficult for me than they once were. Other times, it’s as if those hands are there just to cheer me on. I don’t always know where they come from or how they learned of my need; after all, I too am good at keeping secrets. Maybe not knowing all the details is the very thing that makes them so special and so cherished.
But hands don’t get places on their own, they need feet to take them where they need to be. In those instances where the hands are unseen, footsteps can be heard. Maybe it’s the sound of a power tool emanating from my garage that draws out the Tim Taylor in many of us. What prompts so many to selflessly give to one so undeserving?
The Caretaker wanted to honor someone on the maintenance crew, who also had Parkinson’s. His friend lost his battle. As we spoke, he shared more about his co-worker. The longer we talked, the more connections we discovered. As it turned out, when I was in early elementary, we lived on the same street. I had gone to grade school and probably played kickball, tag, or hide and seek with his son. We attended the same church. That brief afternoon, my world and his were connected, and simultaneously both grew bigger and seemed smaller.
Undeserving
I will be the first to admit that, in the past, I have not always been a compassionate spouse or an engaged father; and as far as the rest, I will only plead the Fifth. But now I am the recipient of random acts of kindness that few have the privilege to experience. Since there is no place in my world-view for karma, I cannot expect reciprocity should I choose to pay it forward. That leaves me to conclude that it is grace that I am experiencing — grace in action.
Blessing
The days that I could climb on a roof to help a neighbor repair a leak are in my review mirror, as are most things that require an appliance dolly or random explosive devices. However, that only includes a few activities, and it does not give me a pass to be a blessing to others.
I am told by a person from my past that I have a story that others might want to hear, even find it uplifting, and dare I say be a blessing. Heady stuff from someone I shared a locker with all through high school, isn’t it? Now it’s time to use the gift that I have been given to bless others. I am out of excuses; the virus, the rioting, the political unrest. I could go on, but I think you get the point. There are risks to everything. There are ample excuses not to do what I should do out of fear that my secrets will be told.
Time is Now
About a year ago, a mentor baited me with this question and taunted me to act on it. “What are you running from?” He continued, “The story of your life is not a secret to hold but a story to be told.” His words, not mine. I tried to replace your, a singular pronoun with our a plural, but he would not authorize it.
I’m still not sure that the world is ready for my story, from someone who struggled to get a “D+” in Art and Physical Education and would eventually graduate with a Master’s degree with high honors from one of the most prestigious universities in the country. My eclectic experiences ranged from a career that included self-employment, a stint at a big–4 accounting firm, from highway construction to three distinctly different not-for-profits.
Who could have imagined that someone self-protective and introverted would be invited to share his story in 40 plus cities spanning coast to coast? Who would have thought that one could do so little with so much, or so much with so little?
Get ready. It has all the makings to be a white knuckle ride.
Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing.
Ivy wants to come along. Three months of self-quarantine didn’t serve her well; probably too many trips to the refrigerator.
Al and his faithful, but socialite sidekick, Ivy the wonder pup.
I think we can convert social distancing to something that a dog can relate to. How about an orbit that is 3-pi? I know how much you love pie.
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by Al Van Dyk | Jun 4, 2020 | Attitude is Everything
All Skate
A nameless roller-rink D.J.
“Are you ready? Are you ready to seize the day?” Or will you let an opportunity pass you by as if it were that popular girl whose attention you were trying to get at a middle school skating party? Sure there was the risk that your wheels might get caught sending one of you to the E.R. with a broken arm, but wasn’t that was a risk that every kid is willing to take?
Are you ready to fail? These are words that are sure to open a wound or two, especially for those of us who have long forgotten the details of our formative years. I vaguely remember keeping those memories locked up in my gym bag, and throwing it in the dumpster at the close of the school year. Still, I must admit there were ample learning opportunities that I might have missed, even some defining moments.
Now?
A life-altering event is rarely announced. It will just occur. The opportunist will recognize it as such; the rest will see it as an intrusion, or even a distraction, from their routine and pray that it will go away. Now back to the question, “Are you ready to seize the day?”
It’s the fear of failure that separates the dreamers from the doers, the starters from the finishers, and dare I add, the skaters from the bench-sitters. It comes down to our willingness, or ability, to accurately assess risk if we want to learn to overcome fear. Analysis paralysis occurs when we analyze the crap out of what we wish to achieve, snatching defeat out of the jaws of victory. It’s that little voice inside of us that plays like an 8-track of Stevie Nix telling us lies, sweet little lies that only the worst outcome is possible and that any failure is terminal.
the odds are…
It takes more than a healthy level of self-esteem to think of ourselves as victors and conquerors. It takes a willingness to try, even faced with insurmountable odds, even if it means we will experience failure. Someone much wiser than I once said, “Failure isn’t defined by how far we fall, but by how high we bounce.” His words are inspiring, even if his name escapes me.
But learning is predicated on our willingness to fail just as experimentation is the foundation of personal growth. The future belongs to the curious and the inquisitive, the resourceful, and the resolute. For those whose comfort zone is defined by the number of boxes that they must check before they call it a day, I caution you, “Don’t try this at home.” Failure is a necessary and integral part of what it takes to become the person we are destined to be. Failure isn’t a destination, it need not be more than a push-pin on a map; a highway rest-stop that we may need to visit to check our bearings and relieve ourselves of that truck-stop mega-burrito that is causing so much discomfort.
Gaps Happen
If you are following my story, you may notice that there are gaps and deviations from the usual subject matter. For the record, I am managing my disease rather well, but living with it can make for a boring read. When compared to the pandemic, there are no daily White House briefings that report the number of new cases, no antagonists posing as journalists, or no newly minted bobble-heads strategically placed on a podium. Each day I do what I must to live with it. Tomorrow, I will adapt and adjust if needed, rinse, and repeat.
Any deviation stems from my desire to stay sharp, flexing my creative muscles, to remind me that I still can. For kicks, I drifted into a political sandbox and tried to apply real-world logic and thoughtful analysis to the abstract; edicts handed down by our current Governor, but that proved to be low-hanging fruit. After all, how many synonyms are there for power-drunk partisan hack.
I even considered documenting the impact of the virus on the nation’s gross domestic product (GDP) predicting how many decades it will take to flatten the curve and absorbing nearly 40 million non-essential workers. Unfortunately, that was far too depressing. If I am going to take a reader to the edge of a cliff, I don’t think that it should be a real one overlooking the abyss.
As of now, I am looking for something new, something to keep my fingers nimble and my mind sharp. If I fail at this new endeavor, I will learn from it, blaze a trail through the morass and emerge even stronger. World domination, hypothetically speaking, is still in my sights, unfortunately dominating something as simple as a slight radius in my driveway is proving to test my geographical footprint.
What opportunities are you missing, or are you not seeing, if any. If there is an upside to a global pandemic, I suspect that these days, weeks, months, or years, will be remembered as the “Great Equalizer” when the mighty fall and the upstarts, the nimble, the curious and the inquisitive rule the day.
So what are you waiting for? The music is still playing. Maybe she is still out there, skating or even waiting?
Carpe Diem ~ All Skate.
Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing.
Ivy is sitting on the bench trying to figure our which skates go on the front feet and which go on the back.
Al and his faithful, but overly analytical sidekick, Ivy the wonder pup.
It’s too late now, pup. The bus is here to take you back to school. That’s what happens when you spend all night in the snack bar. You miss a lot.
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by Al Van Dyk | Apr 6, 2020 | Light and Fluffy
Shelter In Place for Dummies
Maybe the President needs a PR firm to convince people that this silent storm, this pandemic, is the real deal. The messaging could be something catchy like “We need to fix the d#%m roads!” only include some light-and-fluffy verbiage that will make people feel safe.
I was unsure what to expect after the Governor’s crippling mandate considering her entire campaign can be summed up with a single talking point, It’s time to fix the d#%m roads. Now that the shelter in place order is in effect, whether the roads are pristine or in a state of disrepair, d#%med or otherwise, we lack the freedom to travel and to enjoy the places those roads can take us, and the ability to connect with those we care about. When we are told we must stay home and away from other people, in essence, we are told we must accept an unfamiliar definition of freedom.
Having spent the better part of my first week home and in place, I thought I would feel empty and unproductive. On the contrary, I decided to make the most of my sequester by embracing Ferris Bueller’s mindset. The weather was too nice to let my time go to waste. So what did I do? I took walks with my wife and son, and of course, the Wonder Pup, I haven’t seen much of my son these past few months with all of the long hours I have been putting in. The fact that he shaved his head is leading me to believe that either I am completely out of touch or he has too much time on his hands.
Nothing is as simple as it was even a month ago. A quick trip to the local Stuff Mart requires advanced planning to ensure we hit the trample-free hours of 8:00-9:00 AM — the hour that is reserved for the elderly and disabled. Hang-tags are optional, of course. I’m afraid that I would confuse my son if we were to hit the corner liquor store or the local dispensary and stock up on staples that the government identified as “essential.”
It must be the idea that is still throwing me off; that I am not permitted to move about freely, even if it’s for my own safety and the safety of others. Keeping up with all the warnings is a full-time activity in its self. I am told that I am not in a high-risk group, but it’s difficult to know for certain. To adopt a mindset that the cardboard box that my Cocoa Puffs came in could kill me before the sugar and the preservatives in the cereal will, requires a new way of thinking, that in itself, could help me embrace my diet. Nonetheless, I am open to change and if this is what it means to shelter in place, I will certainly do my part.
It might help if I could feel safer. Perhaps I would feel differently if the plastic bubble I bought to protect my investment portfolio would have shown up a few months earlier. Maybe, if it was sourced from someplace other than the birthplace of the virus, and if it was shipped in something different from a virus encrusted container along with other virus-covered boxes, and hand-delivered by a virus exposed package delivery service.
It was Rohm Emanuel, an Obama hack, who offered this advice to those seeking public office, Never let a crisis go to waste! This past week, the lemmings did just that — politicizing their message to pit neighbor against neighbor and state against state. It was naive to think that a few trillion dollars of pork will buy unity and bipartisanship. Instead, the stage is set with the same shameless cast of characters, promising oversight, moral clarity, all cloaked in righteous indignation.
I wonder how differently people would heed the warnings if the political grandstanding were shelved, the t-shirts are put back in the dresser drawers, and a message of hope and comfort is extended to those that are hurting and feel helpless. The campaign slogans will keep for another year; as will the condition of the d#%m roads. If they haven’t gotten better during the past decade, I find it hard to believe that regurgitating a talking point will do the trick. If nothing else, maybe its time for a new generation of bean counters. They can start by peeling off a few billion dollars to fix the d#%m website so the recently unemployed can file a claim. Chances are, they’re working with their own idea of what’s essential.
Thanks for reading, liking, and sharing,
I apologize for the coarse language used by the Pup. She wanted to forcefully emphasize a point but is still a little fuzzy on the definition of essential.
Al and this faithful, but clemency-seeking sidekick, Ivy the Wonder Pup.
I can see why you’re confused, pup. The lines between essential and criminally prosecutable are fine; and blurry. No pun intended.
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by Al Van Dyk | Mar 28, 2020 | Through Ivy's Eyes
For the record, I’m not sure why every dog thinks they have all the right stuff to be a therapy dog. It takes more than looking the part or making a fashion statement. We are not accessories. For one, you’ll never catch me wearing a turtle neck sweater or hiding in someone’s handbag. Where is the dignity in that? How can a therapy dog spring into action if he or she has their legs tangled up in a rhinestone and sequin-covered leash?
A therapy dog needs the poise of a flight attendant, the patience of a Disney theme park character, and the tenacity of a Conservative on the View. I’ve read about a training program that certifies dogs. It was a good program, that is until the lawyers got involved, and miniature horses and lizards were allowed to join. Now it’s a free-for-all.
Don’t get me wrong, I like bearded dragons, some of my best friends are reptiles, but I wouldn’t put the safety of a room full of pre-schoolers in the care of a chameleon. When things get dicey, no one will be able to find it. Don’t get me started on the boa’s; they’re snakes. On some days, they are all hugs, and the next thing you know, they are lying on the floor trying to size you up. Never trust a snake.
Back to the question, what makes for a great therapy dog? It helps if you can identify the things that can harm your person and be able to act decisively to neutralize the threat. For example, I can hear a box of ice cream opening from three rooms away. If I don’t intervene, who will? I certainly can’t trust him to exercise moderation. If I leave it up to him, he will polish off that box of ice cream before sun-rise.
The same can goes for those juicy steaks. He doesn’t know when to say when. He even tried to buy a half of a cow and put it in the freezer. So what happens to the other half? I had to play hardball on that one. There isn’t room on the couch for the two of us.
It’s not just about depriving him of those things where he has a weakness or lacks self-control. First and foremost, my job is to make sure that he is taking care of himself. That means, exercise, taking his meds when he is supposed to and avoiding unnecessary stress. And when he can’t avoid it, my job is to absorb and deflect it. The best thing I can do for him is to make him scratch me behind my ears for at least ten minutes, three times a day. It may seem like a sacrifice, but it’s worth it.
What I gave you is just the shortlist; there is so much more. Soon enough, you’ll figure out what your person needs to help them cope with whatever ever life throws there way. Lucky you if it includes anything from the frozen dairy section; that’s where a lot of people lose their way.
Good luck, and stay clear of the sloths. You will spend all day just trying to get them to return a text message.
Thanks for reading,
Ivy the Wonder Pup — a friend to many, a sidekick to one.
Hey Daddio, Stay away from the freezer door. Don’t make me bring a spoon.
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