Choices

There are not many excuses in life but there are plenty of mitigating circumstances.  A good friend of mine posted a link to the above morality maxim on her Facebook page.  Not wanting to embroil myself in an internet kerfuffle, I made one reductio ad absurdum comment and I then backed off when her reply had at least one word typed out in emphatic CAPS.  My comment-repeated here only for purposes of clarification-was "What about Sophie's Choice?  Was she alone to blame?" My point, of course, was not well received, or more appropriately stated, not fully appreciated.

The main point of the aphorism is actually quite valid and I agree with the sentiment in principle.  I am, by nature, a determinist and for every calamity that seems to befall some hapless people, I believe there lies an imprudent decision somewhere in their past.  And if some maladjusted misanthrope pulls the trigger on an ill advised caper, then he alone has chosen to do so and he must suffer the consequences agreed upon by twelve reasonable people.  Even if that reprobate was raised by five different foster families and Mom is a prostitute and Dad was killed in a drug deal gone bad.

So what then, is so objectionable about the missive that it shouts a right wing, fundamentalist sentimentality?  Simple, it's the final word; Period.  And not only does this graphic close the door on any and all discussion, but the person who originally posted it (not my friend) added a comment along with the graphic; PERIOD.  Just to make sure, I assume, we don't try to read in any ambiguities.  And yes, it was typed in CAPS.  She is shouting at us and we haven't even begun the debate!  And apparently she feels that there is no debate.  But it is not this inability to acknowledge the gray areas in life that troubles me.  It is the seeming lack of empathy that interests me about this post.  Was it about a specific incident?  Like the Travon Martin case?  I don't know.  It really seems to be just a generalized statement on the condition of man, or a man's life, since it was a stand alone Facebook post.

I deem the persons who post these kinds of missives to be normally kind and good hearted people.  At least the people I friend and know on Facebook who might agree with this maxim are kind and earnest human beings.  But to emphatically post such a missive, without an explanation about a specific incident toward which it is directed seems un-empathetic at best and condescending at worst.  Here is the delicate point upon which I tread:  I have noticed that many of the people who agree with the sentiment expressed in this platitude consider themselves devout Christians.   It seems incongruous to me for people of faith to disagree that this sentiment, as it stands in an isolated Facebook post, demonstrates a certain lack of empathy.  But I would like to discuss an observation that may lead to some understanding.

Another debate, this one with a live person, gave me some insight.  I was having a discussion with an acquaintance, who shall remain nameless, about his work with incarcerated women in a state prison.  He is teaching them so that they may earn their GED.  I expressed my admiration for his work and how both rewarding and difficult it must be.  We started to discuss the nature of the women in prison, and being the conservative libertarian that he is, he expressed little sympathy for the women as they only have themselves to blame for their situation. But he did feel it was his duty to help them.  I averred that not everyone is born with equal abilities and with the same opportunities in life (we are all born with equal rights) so we should take that into consideration when judging these women-not to excuse them-but just to understand their situation.  That way, we may better help them to make good choices.  His response shocked me into silence, a vary rare occurrence indeed.  He said "What, are you Hitler?  That is akin to believing in eugenics".  I should note, as it pertains to the current discussion, that at the outset of our conversation he acknowledged that his world view flows form The Bible and God, as opposed to mine, I suppose, which originates from the natural rights of Man a' la Rousseau and Spinoza.  Thus implying we would never come to agree.

Which I suppose is true since, I can only assume, he thinks all secular humanists who believe in a natural order theorize like Hitler (who was raised a Catholic BTW) and I believe him to be quite unempathetic for a religious man.  But it is this idea that he believes (I can only guess) that all human beings are endowed by their Creator with an immaculate free will to choose good versus evil, that interests me.  For I think this is the root of what I consider to be a right wing, Christian fundamentalist view of human behavior.  Our souls are perfect as God has created us and it is only in this corporeal life that we choose mischief.  If circumstances are not going our way, we can choose to put it in God's hands, and if we do not, we have only ourselves to blame.  Even the most wretched and downtrodden among us have chosen to look away from God.  When looked at from this point of view it is easy to see why someone who professes a life based on The Bible can seem un-empathetic.  They do sincerely want to help someone who might find themselves in an untenable situation. But they believe that  this person only has himself to blame since God has given everyone the same free will to choose between good and evil.

I am not criticizing nor condoning this world view.  I am just trying to understand what I, and other like minded liberals, perceive to be a lack of empathy by some right leaning Christians. And let me be clear that by lack of empathy I in no way mean they don't care.  I believe they do care very much about helping others.  They might have sympathy, but they do not have empathy.

This Is Only Funny Because I Didn't Break My Neck

I have been cautiously working on a blog post that has the potential to ruffle a few feathers but in the meantime I had an accident this past weekend.  The accident was aided and abetted by an improvident decision on the part of a very close associate of mine so it might have been premeditated.  Though malice aforethought seems highly unlikely as this associate is my loving and beloved wife-who is emotionally, psychologically, and physiologically incapable of even looking at a dead mouse caught in one of the various mousetraps set about in our cabin.  And so bewitched is she with the needs of the various animals in our chalet that my cat might actually be the primary cause of this mishap.  Of course, the cat wasn't supposed to even be up at the cabin this weekend since it was my sister-in-law's turn to enjoy the pastoral setting of Woodland Valley and she is uneasy around cats ever since she was bit by one during a vet visit gone awry.  But being the delightfully easy going person that she is, she agreed to allow Grayson, the cat, to accompany us on the three and one half hour car ride up to the Catskills.  Thus, it is actually her fault that I fell in the hole.

For some atavistic reason having to do with caves and lairs, my cat is fascinated with all things dank and dark such as basements and crawl spaces.  And so it wasn't very long after we bought our cabin that Grayson became obsessed by the mysterious trap door in the floor of our furnace room.  I am convinced he could smell the musty air permeating up through the gaps at the edges of the six square foot panel in the floor.  Either that or he saw me disappear down it one day when I had to check on the water pump.  In any case, if we happened to leave the furnace room door open he would meow and paw at the trap door until we shooed him away. One day we finally relented and opened the trap door for him to curiously peer into the abyss in that cross-eyed way that cats have of staring at a new circumstance in their otherwise selfish life.  And so it became routine for him to meow his way into forcing us to open the trap door for him.  We even left the ladder in the hole for him to climb back up to the surface when he was done exploring his "cave".

Being the prudent man that I am, I was sure to leave the light on in the furnace room and the door propped open with a brightly colored broom handle laying across the entrance so no one could mistakenly walk in and abruptly fall five feet down to their catastrophic misfortune.  Even with these precautions in place, I always felt a vague sense of unease about leaving the trap door open for the cat.  At least it was only Tammy and I in the cabin and we both knew when the other had left the door open for Grayson.  Or so I assumed.

Now, the cabin being what it is, a cabin, one must maximize storage space for all of the toys that go along with living in the woods.  Snow shoes, skis (downhill and cross country), boots (hiking and skiing), various poles for stabilizing oneself while engaging in either walking or schussing downhill, footwear for stream ambling, foot wear for bicycling, and of course a different helmet for each of the aforementioned endeavors.  A furnace room happens to be the perfect location for these toys since my wife won't let me hang my hiking poles on the bear hook in the foyer (mouse click here).  Heaven forbid if a guest should find out I hike in the woods by spying my gear out in the open.  But I digress.  Needless to say, this room is well traveled by me.

On most Friday evenings when we arrive at the cabin, Tammy, myself, and the cat immediately engross ourselves in the various chores that have become our routine.  Tammy disappears outside to check her garden, I set about replugging in the various small appliances that might have started a fire while we were away, and Grayson begins his vigil at the door of the furnace room meowing and whining until we relent and open that door, and then the trap door.  On this particular Friday, as I have mentioned, we had company.  So when Tammy wanted to open the trap door for Grayson, I felt an immediate sense of unease.  "Someone", I prophetically proclaimed, "is going to fall into this hole".  But as is usually the case in feline populated households, the needs of the cat come first. So we warned our guests and we left the light on in the furnace room and the crawl space and propped the broom handle as a sort of caution tape in the doorway.  Everyone, I assured myself, is aware of the peril in traveling freely about the cabin.  Once the cat had satisfied himself that a family of racoons had not moved into his cave, which usually takes about thirty minutes, he came back up the ladder and with a sigh of relief I closed the trap door.  Thus restoring a contiguous hard surface for plummet free walking about the cabin.

That Saturday dawned sunny and a predicted  break in the heat wave gave us all a buoyant outlook for the weekend.  So over breakfast it was decided that Tammy would accompany her sister and brother-in-law on a walk down Woodland Valley Rd to enjoy the serenity and I would would go on a bicycle ride to suffer on the various steep mountain roads that ascend throughout our valley. When I returned hot, sweaty and tired two hours later I was looking forward to a relaxing lunch of a couple of beers and whatever discommodious vegetarian summer salad Tammy had found on eatlikearabbit_feelgreat.com.  But first I had to put away my bicycling shoes and change into my flip flops.  If you scored well on the reading comprehension portion of the SATs you will immediately realize where I keep my bicycling shoes.  In the furnace room. Why "someone" left the trap door open, with the light turned off, and the door only slightly ajar, with no warning broom stick laid at an angle across the doorway, I have no idea.  And why this was done while I was away from the house and not forewarned, I have no idea.  And why the damn cat had to go into the crawl space at twelve o'clock on a sunny Saturday morning I also have no idea.  I do now have an idea, however, of what it is like to fall into a mountain crevasse and live to tell the story.  At least there's that.

One of multiple contusions.

I Am Pissed Off Again! And It Feels GGGGrrrrreeeeaaaat!!!!

Another assault on liberal thinking has just been launched from, of all places, Narberth, Pennsylvania.  Again.  Regular readers of my ersatz (one of my most favorite words) column will recall my opinion piece of June 21, 2013 in which I responded to a resident of this small Pennsylvanian hamlet over her misguided views on how liberals think and what they believe.  What are the odds that I would be pissed off  twice in one week from the same small town in Pennsylvania?  To be fair, this volley was not a direct hit on progressive political thinking.  It was directed more at the cafeteria monotheists among us.  You know who you are.  You like to pick and choose among the various dogmas, doctrines, and sacraments, to best suit your current spiritual state.  Yet you still believe in the one God.  Perhaps you are just confused about all the dictums-which are mostly enforced by ersatz (see?  A great word) clerics.  But it is usually liberals (and right of center thinkers) who choose to see the world, even the divine one, in various shades of gray.

Here is the letter (it was in response to an article on the proliferation of yoga studios in Philly):

Uneasy over the lotus position

Yoga is more than a system of physical exercises. There is a spiritual component that may or may not be emphasized ("Going to the mat," June 23). Most yoga teachers are probably nice people, and yoga participants may seek to participate in a benign exercise program. Indeed, people testify to physical benefits such as greater flexibility or easing and healing of certain maladies. But I don't believe that yoga is benign. It has been practiced for thousands of years and is tied directly to Eastern religions, mainly Hindu gods.

People who open themselves to those gods or spirits, even in a church, synagogue, or YMCA setting, are inviting in and engaging with other gods. Jews, Christians, and Muslims agree that there is one God, with differences. In each of those faiths, God is divine. To practice yoga is to integrate parts of Eastern religion and mysticism into people's lives, perhaps unknowingly, or in the belief that it won't matter. But people can become confused, and their priorities may become rearranged. There may be outright distancing from God. So I'm sorry to hear that Philadelphia has the distinction of ranking third in the country for yoga.

Margie Nathanson, Narberth, PA

Here is the link to the original so you don't think I made this up:
Yoga is the devils workshop.

And in case you are wondering why I am allowing myself to get so bent out of shape over what one person, whom I am sure is very lovely,  thinks, click on this link (the lawsuit was brought by Stephen and Jennifer Sedlock):
Breathe deep the gathering gloom.


My response:
Dear Margie,
cc; Stephen and Jennifer, Encinitas CA

You know what?  I actually agree with you.  Fundamental yoga practice is inconsistent with fundamental Western religious thought.  And there is that thing about worshiping false idols.  But how do you know what is in the hearts and minds of other people?  That's where you lose me. If Christians, Jews, and Muslims can agree to disagree, why can't Hindus, and Buddhists be a part of the detente?  Or secular yogi practitioners?  Aren't we all looking for the same thing, like you said, but with differences?

Perhaps I am being intellectually rigid, but if you believe Mohammad was a false prophet and John Smith was a false prophet, then you should be just as upset over a Mormon tabernacle or an Islamic mosque being built in Philadelphia as you are about a yoga studio.  And that would be just downright bigoted. 

A Snake in the Grass

A young man was walking along in the woods one chilly spring day when he suddenly came upon a snake laying motionless in the middle of the dirt path.  He gently prodded it with his hiking staff to see if he could coax it to slither aside.  "Please, young sir", implored the snake, "I am but a cold blooded animal and I cannot gather the strength on this cool day to crawl back to my nest to guard my young.  If you would but pick me up and warm me for a few minutes I could summon the energy to wriggle home and check my brood".
The young man was taken aback by the snakes odd request.  "What kind of fool do you take me for?" he asked the snake.  "You would most assuredly bite me".
"Oh, no.  I am way to weak to even think such a thing.  I am only interested in my young.  Please, please.  I beg of you.  My children may themselves be killed by a hungry mammal if I am not there to protect them".
"I don't know", replied the man, obviously beginning to soften to the snakes pitiful circumstance.  "Do you promise not to bite me if I help you?"
"Of course, of course.  I would never bite the hand that helped me".

So, perhaps against the young man's gut sense, he knelt down and extended his hand for the snake to crawl onto his arm to be warmed.  And just as he opened his palm, the snake struck out and sank his fangs deep into the soft flesh of his hand.  "Ouch!" he cried out in pain and astonished disbelief.  " Why did you do that?  You gave me your word".
"You knew what I was when you reached out to hold me", hissed the snake as he slithered away.  "You should not have expected me to be something I am not".

I Asked For It

Careful what you ask for.  I asked to be pissed off and boy did Connie Waterman of Narberth, PA oblige.  She is a fellow letter to the Editor writer at the Philadelphia Inquirer.  Here is the link to her letter. I will paste it here as well, in case the link is ever broken.  I don't ever want to forget it.

Here is the link to the letter: Thou shalt not hate. Scroll down to "Threat to Military Readiness"


I have pasted the letter here as well:

Threat to military readiness

I do not claim that there is no sexual misconduct in the U.S. military. However, I believe Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (D., N.Y.) and other Democrats are encouraging any misconduct claim from women in order to destroy the military accomplishments of men ("For U.S. military, an enemy within," June 13). Since the 1960s, liberals have loathed the military. Liberals destroyed the institution of marriage, Judeo-Christian values, the family unit, work ethics, personal responsibility, and respect for life in the womb. The military is next.

Connie Waterman, Narberth, PA
______________________________________________________________________
My response:
Dear Connie,

I am very disappointed in your letter.  The military isn't next.  It's already dead.  The day they allowed a gay Marine to defend his country is the day the military died.  It is already too late for our brave men in uniform.  No, the next American institution the liberals are going to destroy is healthcare.  Our sacred right to spend 80% of our precious healthcare dollars on the last five years of our life is in jeopardy.  Liberals want equal access to healthcare regardless of ability to pay. Preposterous!  How dare the social misanthropes who call themselves liberals allow someone with a preexisting heart condition to get affordable healthcare. Those chronically ill malingerers have no one to blame but themselves what with all that cigarette smoking and Big Mac eating. And what about their 25 year old kids? Why do they deserve to leech off society? No one gave me health insurance when I was a young adult. If I was careless with a knife and accidentally sliced my finger off, my mother sewed it back on. Out here on the prairie we take care of our own.

And speaking of the prairie, those damn liberals are systematically destroying the farmers way of life. They especially hate, hate, chicken farmers. What did Frank Perdue or John Tyson ever do to harm a chicken? Those men were church going saints. They do those chickens a favor by squashing them in like invertebrate sardines and providing free hormones and antibiotics. Chickens can't fly anyway. The liberals want to create an entire generation of entitled chickens by messing with the Farm Bill. Liberals care more about chickens than they do another woman's womb.  Pure evil.

Evil?   I'll tell you what's evil. The woods. Absolutely no good can come from allowing trees to proliferate any where in America. The forest is the devil's home. Where do you think Satan tempted Eve?  In the woods, that's where.  A snake in a tree.  The liberals want to preserve our forests! They just hate mankind that much. Imagine favoring trees over strip malls. There are no snakes in the Kohl's parking lot. I can assure you of that.

I agree that liberals have destroyed the sanctity of marriage.  Have you ever heard of a God fearing Christian cheating on his wife?  Only a self centered, lazy atheist would split up his family over another woman.  I can't think of a single hard working atheist that ever did a single thing for this country.  Well, except for Thomas Jefferson.  He might have been Agnostic, though.  I'm not sure.  He was so busy providing for the slaves on his farm, especially that Mrs. Sally Hemings, that I don't know how he had time to rewrite the entire Bible leaving out all the metaphysical passages.

Speaking of Thomas Jefferson, I don't think there is a single liberal that knows the first thing about our founding fathers.  Men like John Adams, George Washington, John Jay, Alexander Hamilton and James Madison.  They weren't a bunch of wealthy intellectual elitists.  No, they were just like you and me.  Hard working, God fearing, blue collar laborers.  If it wasn't for those nice slaves keeping the plantations running, those selfless men never would have had the time to meet in Philadelphia.  Now that I think about it, it was a bunch of liberal abolitionists that wanted the slaves freed in the first place.  The plantation masters were certainly conservative church going men.  Where do these liberals get their crazy ideas?

One more thing.  The American family was way better off before we had; The Family Leave Act, a minimum wage, The Americans with Disablities Act, Medicare, Social Security, The Clean Air Act,  unemployment benefits, and work place safety rules.  Liberal ideas, every last one.  How dare anyone believe we are all responsible for each other whether they worship in our church or not.

Dear Woody

The team here at "Cabin in the Catskills" is always looking to provide additional value added services to our loyal followers.  So we are pleased to announce a new interactive feature entitled "Ask Woody".  An advice and help column dedicated to the proposition that all people have equal access to get themselves lost or seriously disabled in our public wild lands.

Herewith the first column.  The names have been changed to protect the hapless:


Hi Woody

Tanya, my wife, and I plan to go camping/backpacking this week.

Do you routinely carry a tarp?  What kind?  (How big/where did you get it...) and what length of rope/how many pieces of rope do you carry?

If it is easier to talk over the phone, I will be free most of the day tomorrow.

Thanks.

Darren




Dear Darren,

1.  I do not use a tarp.  I like to sleep in a full tent with four walls and a rain fly.  That way I feel a little more protected from the axe murderers roaming about in the woods. The idea that they will have to first hack their way through two layers of nylon makes me feel that I will have at least a few more seconds to grab the 12" Bowie knife-that I definitely do carry no matter the weight-to defend myself.

View of axe murderer through tent door. 

2.  I do routinely carry fifty feet of standard parachute cord, preferably camo green.  This is available in every outdoor store across America.  It is used primarily to fabricate a trip wire perimeter around your tent to further delay said axe wielding psychopath.  But if you plan on climbing a few cliffs, then pack 60 meters of 10mm dynamic climbing rope for sure.

Regards,

Woody

P.S.  Unfortunately due to the high volume of letters we are not able to reply personally by telephone. 

The More Things Change......

I am 53 years old and riding my carbon fiber bicycle with racing geometry and a stiff frame is like going a couple of loops on the Cyclone.  The adrenaline rush is great but the numb hands, neck, and shoulders?  Not so much.  So, I just bought a new touring/cyclocross/city bike with a relaxed frame geometry for a more comfortable ride.  I feel like a kid on this bike and I have already begun to dork it out just like the old days:  contrasting red reflective tape (because it is all black), rear rat trap carrier (ok, so it's not an original Pletscher but I still call my sneakers, tennis shoes), a front light (no, it does not have a generator that is activated by a gear rubbing on the front wheel) and a rear tail light for extra safety. It even came with a bell. Here are a few pictures:

Headlight, bell, odometer, reflective tape.

Rat trap, bungee cord, tail light, saddlebag, reflective tape.

Here is a photo Tammy took of me with my new bicycle:

Black Beauty II (The bike, not me).

After Tammy said, "It looks like your old bike," I found this picture, taken exactly 35 years ago in June of 1978 with the bicycle I built from scratch in 1977:

The Original Black Beauty.  Complete with reflector tape and rat trap.

You can't make this stuff up.  The only thing that has changed in all this time?  The size of my bank account and bicycle technology. Which brings me to the point of this blog.  People don't change.  Only resources and technology change.  Who do you think is buying all those Chargers, Challengers, Corvettes, and Camaros?  Sixty-five year old men trying to relive their youth that's who.  When is the last time you saw someone under the age of forty riding a Harley?  The biker bar full of Hell's Angels drinking shots of Old Grand Dad has been replaced by a bar full of old granddads drinking Blue Angels.  (That doesn't really prove my point but it seems like a great line).

Sure, some forty year old will wake up one day and decide to do a thru hike of the Appalachian Trail even though they never backpacked or even camped before.  But I'll bet you a hundred dollars that they are the type of person who was always intense in whatever activity they were engaged.  They probably spent a year at an ashram in India staring at their belly button.  I hope they never find whatever it is they are looking for, by the way, because for them, the pursuit is the product.

Lucky for me, I have always been fond of bicycles, backpacks, and bonhomie.  OK.  So one thing has changed.

Somebody, Please, Piss Me Off.

Yo, very sorry.  I haven't been inspired by much lately.  That either means I am uncharacteristically content or pathologically apathetic but here is something; I just had my third letter to the editor published by the Philadelphia Inquirer.  I guess I got pissed off enough to come out of my writer's block to fire off a letter.  I am pretty psyched they accepted it.  Here is the link to the article I chided:  Democracy's Challenge by EJ Dionne.

And here is the link to my letter; Heat Can Shed Light in DC.  Scroll down to the letter with that title.  The Inquirer came up with the title, not me.

On a different note, it was suggested that I blog about a recent medical procedure/test I underwent this past Monday.  Unfortunately for me it went very smoothly so I can't come up with an angle.  I hate when that happens.  Perhaps next time, the gastroenterologist will accidentally leave a gauze pad up there and then I'll have something to bitch about that will amuse you.  If everything in the world went smoothly there would be no great writing. 

The Sports Have It

In yet another blow to the fragile egos of high school nerds everywhere, the US Department of Education has recently specified new rules regarding the inclusion of disabled students in scholastic sports.  Arne Duncan, Obama's Secretary of Education,  has likened the new equal rights regulation to the ground breaking Title IX ruling which opened the door of extra and intramural sports to differently gendered persons of the female persuasion.  It occurred to the brain surgeons over at the Dept of Ed that disabled students have been denied equal participation in the character building, teamwork promoting, milieu of school based sports programs. 

I have news for Arne and Barack.  There are far more physically and mentally "normal" kids who have been denied access to the team and character building province of school sports teams simply because they suck at sports.  I know for a fact that there is no way in hell that a kid who can't do a mile in under 8 minutes is going to make the cross country team.  And if he or she is neither in a wheel chair nor a single limb amputee, they ain't making the "para" team either.  Some kids will always flinch when a line drive ball comes barreling toward them at second base.  Are they disabled?   Is a kid who will never be good at hitting a ball over a net with a racket disabled?  Is a kid who just can't seem to kick a ball around a swifter footed 15 year old disabled?  There are plenty of kids, I am certain, who would love the chance to be involved in high school sports, but for the simple fact that they just aren't coordinated enough, they will never get the chance to be a part of the team.  Sports don't discriminate against the overtly disabled.  Sports discriminate against the subtly spastic.

My god, There is an entire Olympics devoted to "special" athletes.  I bet every participant is actually a great athlete regardless of their IQ or extremities status.  So now what?  High schools and colleges will have to open up sports programs for overtly disabled kids?  Will they take money away from the drama and art clubs to pay for these special sports programs?   What about a child who just sucks at catching a ball?  Or sucks at running a mile?  How are they supposed to feel part of a school team?  There are no cheerleaders at a Science Fair or Mathletes meet.  I have never heard of a high school pep rally being held for an extramural debate team competition.  As a card carrying Democrat, I can't complain too much when the Feds engage in social engineering.  But I am afraid there are going to be way more kids who will still feel left out, maybe even more so, than who will benefit from this incompletely thought out regulation.

L'Affaire Lance

I remember standing near the finish line at the CoreStates Bicycle Race in Philadelphia in 1998 and saying to Tammy, "He's done.  That's a shame".  I was talking about Lance Armstrong's career.  He finished a disappointing 33rd after his 1996 fight with testicular cancer.  But at least George Hincapie, Lance's friend and USPS team mate, won the race.  Then several years later after reading Lance's autobiography I realized the error in my denouncement of his future career.  After battling advanced testicular cancer he viewed his 33rd place finish in this grueling one day bicycle race as an unbelievably positive accomplishment. And thus did Lance tip my always ambivalent feelings for him back into the positive column.  You see, I have been loosely following his career since he was a young, up and coming triathlete so the depth of his hubris and arrogance has never been a shock to me.  Disbelief and shock were not two of the emotions I felt watching him haltingly try to come clean about his behavior to Oprah.  Nor did I feel any sense of relief that finally he will reap what he has sown.  I only felt resignation and sadness at yet another example of the havoc and calamity that testosterone spews into our world.  Which in Lance's case, is truly ironic.

I am in no way justifying his behavior, I am only trying to shed light on why it should not be shocking.  If he is guilty of anything, it is taking alpha male ruthlessness to a new level of vindictiveness.  In my view, his behavior is only one extreme of that which has been exhibited by many alpha males before him.  The entire Penn State Football leadership team comes to mind.  As Lance stated in the confessional that is Oprah, protecting the kingdom rises above all other concerns.  Whether they be fellow athletes or ten year old boys their sacrifice is of no great concern if the empire is to be protected.  College football coaches, and petty despots alike have the ability to separate their actions from themselves.  There is a disconnect between the id and super ego in their minds (look it up).  While watching Lance try to answer Oprah's questions I was struck by his seeming inability to understand how his standing as team leader could cause the other cyclists to feel they had no choice but to dope if they wanted to remain on the team.  "I gave them no direct verbal order" he protested when pushed.

It would be nice to say it's only about a bunch of guys riding bicycles.  Or about a bunch of guys hitting a ball with a bat.  Who really cares if they cheat themselves and their fellow players?  That is indeed true, but especially in the case of Lance Armstrong, the repercussions of his behavior have reached far beyond his bicycle seat.  What he did was despicable yet he is the only athlete I ever truly admired and followed.  The reason for this is that I never deluded myself about him.  I always knew he at least used EPO.  I always knew he was an SOB to those who dare oppose him.  But there were other aspects to his story with which I identified.  He was a high school sports team outcast and he found solace on a bicycle.  His story is very complex and it goes beyond "can you believe this guy?"  I never give racketeers any slack for their crimes but in Lance's case I am more saddened than outraged.

We have Nothing to Fear But Fear Itself

Dear Wayne LaPierre and Fellow 2nd Amendment Fanatics,

I do not want to live in a country where there are armed guards in every school.  Period. 

I know how you feel though.  I, myself, am a 1st amendment fanatic.  But if everyone has a gun, my freedom of speech will surely be impeded. 

As Ben said: Those who would give up Essential Liberty to purchase a little Temporary Safety, deserve neither Liberty nor Safety.