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Blog Entries with Personal Content

Photo 1 (upper left); Me taking a break along the South Fork of the Kings River, Kings Canyon National Park, California, October 2007;

Photo 2 (upper right): Eunice with a large Rock Bass she caught at Indian Lake in upstate New York, August, 2007;

Photo 3 (lower): A French Canadian tourist took this photo of us at Lake George in upstate New York, August, 2007.

July 7

IHOP University

You probably didn't know that the International House of Pancakes has its own university. Actually, I do not, either, although I wish they did. IHOP University actually stands for International House of Prayer University, and Isabella has gone there to study at the branch of IHOP University in San Francisco. The puzzling part of this scenario is that Isabella, Eunice's daughter, just graduated with her Masters degree in Business Administration (MBA) on June 13. I suppose that it's a good thing that Isabella likes learning and continuing education, but at some point, enough is enough. Furthermore, I have to question just how much of a true education a person can receive by going to a religious institution.

Educators have an obligation to impart to others, information which to their knowledge is the best and truest available. When people impart information to others which contradicts evidence, such as religious belief systems, this becomes propaganda and brainwashing. In a religious institution, it is likely that the so-called educators believe what they teach, but to me, that brings their efforts into the realm of willful ignorance, which does not give them an excuse for disseminating misinformation. It still amounts to propaganda and brainwashing. True educators have an obligation to honestly seek the truth before trying to impart it to others. Thus, I have issues with Isabella's decision to attend a religious institution, but feel I must respect her choice. Eventually, I pray (carefully chosen word) that Isabella will catch on to the misleading tactics which pastors and religious instructors have plied her with over the years. Perhaps then, she will stop praying for me and others, as though there is something inherently wrong with us because we disagree with her religious viewpoint. Of course, the problem of propaganda and brainwashing efforts masquerading as education is not unique to religion. It also abounds in politics. The true defenders of freedom, in my view, are those who seek and teach truth, counteracting misinformation processes.

The question with regard to Isabella's educational quest, however, is why does she need to go away to continue her education? My feeling regarding Isabella, from a psychological point of view is that she has had a continuing problem defining herself and her role in life. This is a sort of identity crisis as defined by Erik Erikson. Erikson, however, thought that the identity crisis only applies to adolescence. Isabella is no adolescent. She is already 32 years old. On the other hand, research about identity crises and adult personality development has repeatedly found that it is not unusual for adults to have an identity crisis. Furthermore, being stuck in a state of continuous identity crisis has been found to be fairly common in women. Perhaps because women's identities are often defined by their marriages and relationships with men, or perhaps because society has changed in such a way that women have become confused about their role, women often have difficulty defining their own identities. I suspect that has happened with Isabella. Perhaps her transition from Taiwan to the United States has contributed to her insecurity as well.

Watching Isabella's struggles has been frustrating for me and her mother, because we care so much about her. We would like to see her get married, and hopefully get a good job (again, since she lost her old one last September). Isabella's behavior is personally very virtuous, generous and conscientious. She is a truly nice and beautiful young woman. Her mother says, and I agree, that she is a perfectionist, to the point of being rigid in her attitudes. As a psychologist, I can see that conscientious effort and persistence is a virtue resulting in good performance and improvement, but irrational perfectionism is a bane to mental health, leading to anxiety and depression. Both the good and the bad side of perfectionism can be seen in Isabella.

Before Isabella left for San Francisco, Eunice started a project to renovate Isabella's house. She has been going there during the week, to supervise the project, and coming home on weekends. That means, since Eunice does not drive, and we only have 1 car, that I have to repeatedly drive Eunice back and forth to La Puente, where Isabella's house is. This is something which has gone on periodically for years. This time, though, Eunice is thinking of selling the house, which would make me very happy since I would no longer have to deal with the hassles of caring for another house in addition to my own, plus, we might enjoy in influx of money if the house sells. The idea is that after a few months, when Isabella is finished going to IHOP University, she can move closer to here and get a job. Eunice can use the money from selling the current house to buy a smaller house, she says. If she does not sell the current house, she can rent it out. Anyway, we shall see what happens in the coming months.

I am not sure why I wrote this post, except for a need to update and discuss Isabella's current situation and how it affects us. The most important thing is for Isabella to find a sense of purpose, psychological security and long-term identity stability in life, one that is not imparted to her by others who have a vested interest in influencing her, as I feel her church leaders have.

May 16 2009

Digital Conversion, But to What?

Lacking cable or digital television, in other words, being members of society's throngs of thrifty, unwealthy peons, we needed to get converter boxes for the transition to digitial television. Yesterday, we bought two converter boxes for our television sets. They cost $10.86 each after using the coupons. This morning, I spent the entire morning installing them, which was pretty much what I had expected, especially being uninclined toward such equipment as I am. The end result was that our newer, flat screen television which we do not watch very much works fine with the converter box, but the usual television did not.

Whenever it was time to use the remote control that came with the converter box, the first television was completely unresponsive. I was supposed to simply click "okay" to indicate that I was using English language, but nothing happened. I tried unconnecting and reconnecting various wires, and changing the batteries in the remote control, always with the same result. Finally, I set up the second television the same way, and the remote control worked, much to my relief. Eventually, I discovered that the problem was that I was aiming the remote control at the television, when I needed to aim it at the converter box. I did not see anything about that in the instructions. Silly me! Now, both televisions work on digital television. There are many new public stations, including various Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese and Japanese stations. The Chinese stations in particular make Eunice happy. She is watching one of her new Chinese stations at this moment, in fact. However, due to our location, we have trouble with reception for many of the stations. In fact, the later in the day, the worse the signal becomes, quite noticeably. We had some trouble with reception before, but the problem is even worse now. Some of the stations are very clear, but some look like a pile of digitized tiles strewn on the floor.

All of this trouble leads me to some larger issues. I know that the conversion to digital television has already taken place in many nations, but I suspect the motives behind the conversion, or the way it is used to make profits, may be different in the United States compared to elsewhere.

1. Is the television industry trying to provide essentially free and easy conversion to digital, or is it really hoping to convert the televison owners to digital television owners by making them go out to buy new, digital televisions which do not need converter boxes? While the converter boxes were inexpensive, as noted above, they were not free, and the brunt of this conversion is being borne by the less wealthy among us. On the issue of easy conversion, the fact that I spent something like three and one half hours working on it, before getting both televisions to work, is rather discouraging

2. How is the freed-up bandwidth going to be used? This is a crucially important resource -- too important for private industry to get a stranglehold on with their greedy little hands; but that is what I am afraid is going to happen. It is my hope that this resource will be used for the public good. According to Do I really need a digital converter box for my TV? the freed up bandwidth can be used for "police, fire and other public safety communications. The remaining portion of the broadcast signal will be available to consumers of wireless services." For example, much of the new bandwidth could also be used for increasing broadband internet access, which is probably the most important public use of the newly opened up bandwidth. This will also presumably benefit internet providers. I have a personal stake in this issue, since we do not have cable at this house, yet, DSL is basically unavailable where we live, due to its location near some mountains and away from telephone stations. (The signal gets weaker as it travels away from the station.) DSL, which means Digital Subscriber Lines, uses telephone lines as does dial-up, but in such a way that it transmits information much faster by using higher frequencies than regular telephones do. I am caught in the dilemma of getting cable (and paying an extra monthly fee) just in order to have high speed internet, or waiting for other forms of highspeed internet access to become available here. So far, I continue to wait for DSL or some form of broadband internet access, and continue to use a dial-up connection to the internet. An internet search reveals that there are many possible forms of internet access, as described in the Wikipedia article Broadband Internet Access. I am not very familiar with these, but it is clear that there are numerous possibilities for internet access, some of which will be facilitated by the conversion of television to an all-digital format. Thus, I am hopeful that with the digital conversion, highspeed internet access without cable will be coming here soon, but not particularly optimistic about it. It is my fear that the internet conversion will result in primarily private business taking over the new bandwidth for its own uses, or selling it to the highest bidders. I also did an internet search on this topic, and the only relevant information that I could find was at the website Chicago Media Action. This article focuses on television, not other communication uses of this bandwidth, such as computers. The most interesting part of this article is when it mentions that commercial broadcasters are hoarding the many new digital television stations, which in the view of the author, as well as my view, should mostly be reassigned to public interest groups or initiatives.

May 13

Oh My God! My Family's Socialist Agenda

It all started a few weeks ago when we were breaking into my stepdaughter's home. I used my key to get in, and went to turn off the alarm, but for some reason, the alarm went off anyway. Silly me -- I had no idea that Isabella had changed the security code, and thus, had neglected to ask her. For about the next half hour, we were serenaded by the alarming sounds of the burgler alarm. I must admit that I pounded on it a few times in frustration, but fortunately, being a wimpy progressive male, I lack the strength to damage these ironclad devices. Sometimes, the alarm sound would stop for a few seconds, so my wife and I were hopeful that the sound barrage had stopped, but a few seconds later, it was on again. Eventually, I went outside to await the police. I waited and waited, but they never came. Hmm, what use is a home security device, when authorities never respond to it? Apparently none, as Isabella was robbed a couple weeks later, for the second time in two years. Her computer, watches, jewelry, television and ipod were stolen. Her watches were found later in a stolen car, but the rest are still missing.

My wife Euince tried calling Isabella on her cell phone, but Isabella, being in class, did not answer. Finally, after about 1/2 hour, although it seemed longer, Isabella answered and give Eunice the new "security code." The sound was finally off, and we were able to break into Isabella's house, not to take anything, but rather to deliver various goods such as needed food.

This is something we have been doing for years, helping Isabella out taking things to her house and giving them to her. We even gave her my digital camera, for instance, then bought a new one. This need for giving has become more urgent since last September, though, since Isabella lost her job. Somehow, this situation triggered in me the realization that I am a member of a vehemently socialist family. In fact, my parents continue to provide support for their children and grandchildren. When I was in graduate school, in fact, I actually lived at home with my parents, who helped support me even though I was technically an adult. This redistribution of goods is blatantly socialist. I refer to the definition of socialism from Webster's Dictionary, which reads: "Public collective ownership or control of the basic means of production, distribution, and exchange, with the avowed aim of operating for use rather than for profit, and of assuring to each member of society an equitable share of goods, services and welfare benefits." The definition goes on to describe different forms of socialism, including Utopian, Christian, Guild, British Labor Party, Marxist-Leninist State, and Creeping Socialism. What the Webster Dictionary writers forgot to mention is that the most basic social unit of our lives, the family is a socialist system -- not just mine, but any loving, nurturing family. Oh the horror, the horror! "Free enterprise," privatization loving capitalists must be having a hissy fit by now, and their stomachs must be doing summersaults.

Think about it: redistributing goods, collective ownership, working together with the avowed aim of use rather than profit, attempts to equitably distribute goods, services and welfare benefits -- all of these are functions of families. Every time we grow fruit and vegetables in the yard, we are engaging in dreaded acts of socialism, especially when we share these goods with other family members. In fact, we may even share these goods freely with non-family members. How anti-capitalist! We are taking money out of the pockets of corporate agribusiness when we do so. The next time my wife wants to pick oranges from my parents' yard, were I not the wussified liberal that I am, I would inform my wife that such activities would be wrong, being anticapitalist by failing to monetarily compensate the owners of said oranges, and failing to respect the privacy of their property. Fishing or hunting for food is similiarly afflicted with the socialist agenda, when the captured items are shared with others. And the list of socialist activities goes on and on. Just think of all that unpaid labor we willingly do for each other. You know the capitalist entreaty to properly socialize youngsters, stating, "be a good boy/girl, and don't share your private property." In my family, however, we were told to share our toys. In fact, we were told to share our things by our teachers in school, except for our answers during exams. The schools in Riverside, California must be operated by socialists. But that is no surprise. After all, this is California, the land of the socialists. We pledged allegiance to the United Nations, our national anthem was "Kumbayah," and our school song was "Last Night I had the Srangest Dream," -- you know, the song where the singer dreams that war is finally outlawed and banned. I imagine it would be a whole different story in Texas, for instance. Of course, families produce many things together, such as fun by playing games, love by caring for each other, understanding by teaching each other, socialization by acting as role models, harmony through collective cooperation, intellectual stimulation and moral instruction by conversing with each other, or just good meals by collective food preparation efforts. Just think about it -- fun, love, understanding, socialization, peace, harmony, learning, and more, all done in a socialist manner -- families are like a virtual smorgasbord of socialism.

What is a good "free market" capitalist to do? I would recommend that they realize that we all are socialists. Of course, advocates of capitalism would argue that the "free market" is fair, but clearly, it is not. Being allowed to take advantage of others in order to increase one's personal profit is never fair; rather, it is that epitomy of selfishness. Also, American conservatives who advocate "free market" capitalism argue that it is the opposite of communism, and that it leads to democracy. In fact, the opposite is true here, as well. Unregulated capitalism is similar to communism. In fact, the most capitalist nation in the world is probably mainland China. The only substantive difference between unregulated capitalism in a democracy, and communism, is that the communist party has an a priori monopoly on power, whereas, in the unregulated "democracy," large corporations vie for power, with the winners -- the largest, most monopolistic ones -- being able to exert political and social power through the use of money. The capitalist myths do not end there. There is the myth of the "free market," which really isn't about people's freedom, but rather, about freely making money. Whoever controls the market sets the price, and the rest of us have to pay the price. Another myth is that competition always works for the betterment of society. Life is difficult enough, and there is enough competition built into life, that we do not need to artificially create competitive situations for our own betterment. Competition is important, and always plays a role in life, but cooperation plays the greatest role. A final myth is that of the "self-made man" or woman. Nothing could be further from the truth. Even the richest, most famous, and most successful among us owe all of our benefits to parents, teachers, friends, customers, fans and others who made it possible. Wealthy business people regularly and freely take advantage of the benefits of their culture's generous socialist practices and the knowledge and infrastructure that it provides, yet few seem to acknowledge their good fortune in this regard.

In order to counteract these destructive capitalist trends, we need to recognize that social cooperation and a sense of fairness are required to create a society in which the greater good of the many outweighs the wealth of the few. Cooperation and fairness, in turn, lead to socialism and the regulation of capitalism. Even the most basic unit of social organization, the family, is socialist in nature. Socialism at a societal level seems to me to represent an extension of family values to the larger society. Treating each other as we would family, then, is the true nature of socialism. Imagine how much better a place the world would be if we all did so. And indeed, in a larger sense, we are all members of the human family.

In a political sense, much of the world is moving toward Democratic Socialism. The United States, as a whole, continues to cling to an economic model emphasizing private ownership and allowing money to be used to influence politicians (through donations and lobbyists) and the public (through advertising and propaganda). It is clear to me that this model has gone much too far in the direction of privitization, and I hope that is equally clear to the majority of the electorate, as well, who elected Barack Obama last fall, in part, to provide much needed government regulation of capitalist activities, and an increase in government involvement in the economy. There is a role in society for private ownership and business, a well-regulated one, but still, family comes first, and after all, we are all family, and having a fair and cooperative society benefits us all. If it takes a village to raise a child, it must take a truly caring society, not one with an "every man for himself" attitude, to raise all of humanity.

December 25

Christmas for Eunice

Frankly, I am not particularly into Holidays, including Christmas. Neither is Eunice, strictly speaking, but she is into giving. Eunice says we don't really know what day of the year Jesus was born. Personally, I do not think we particularly need a Holiday for Jesus, as anyone who knows of my spiritual views could probably guess. Anyway, having an official Christmas Holiday seems like a violation of the separation of Church and State, a complaint that strangely enough, I have never heard anyone else make. Since many cultures seem to have a traditional Holiday around the time of winter solstice, it is my guess that people have long found a need to have something to celebrate around the coldest and darkest time of year, a sort of rite of renewal, at least in northern climes.

Being a giver with no job, Eunice does a mighty good job of spreading out what little wealth we have around Christmas time. When my brother Bruce was at my parents house in nearby Riverside, with his wife and two youngest daughters, Eunice made sure to get lots of presents to the girls. Mostly, Eunice gave them candy and other treats to eat, and some toys. When my eldest brother Craig was staying with my parents with his two daughters this past week, Eunice managed to give the girls shoes, socks, sweaters, blankets, and candy.

I may have mentioned in a previous post that Eunice donates to around 40 charities per month, plus we sponsor four children in other nations -- China, Ethiopia, Mexico and the Philipines-- and two children in Virginia. To be sure, the amounts she gives are small, but so is the amount of spare money we have available. Of course, Eunice has to make sure she puts her donations in the mail in time for Christmas, which is unfortunate, since buying this computer has depleted my bank account more than usual already. She also has a neighborliness program. She regularly gives fruit we or my parents grow to the neighbors at various times of the year, but for Christmas, she also gives them cards and gifts in addition to fruit. This year, the gift is small plants such as Colanchoes in cute containers resembling sleighs, or plants in pretty hand-woven baskets. She gave gifts to our Japanese (plus Ben, the White husband) neighbors, our Peruvian neighbors, our Filipino neighbors, and even found time to give a gift to our new American neighbors. I asked Eunice whether she wanted to give something to our Argentinian neighbors, Sabrina and her mother, but she said they were too far down the street and she didn't know the mom. Such is life on Bald Eagle Lane, where most of the people seem to originate from another country. Interestingly, none of the men that I have seen living on our street are bald. All of us seem to have full heads of hair, including myself. Maybe its some sort of Karma, or something in the air here.

All of this giving makes Eunice happy and gives her a sense of fulfillment. It makes me happy, too, as long as we do not run out of money. Recent research on giving indicates that it does indeed make the giver happier. In fact, research also shows that happiness tends to spread from person to person. In terms of brain chemistry, I believe that it has even been shown in recent research that charity enables our "feel good" neural circuits, ones which use neurotransmitters such as dopamine and serotonin, which promote a sense of well being. Giving also probably promotes the use of oxytocin, a neurotransmitter and hormone which seems to promote feelings of love and bonding. Falling in love was recently found to promote oxytocin levels, for both genders, and staying in love keeps oxytocin levels high permanently, so lets give a cheer for oxytocin. Eunice and I must have high levels of oxytocin running around in our bodies.

The larger point here is, that both Eunice and I feel that giving is a year around process. Charity means helping people, not just with gifts, but with time, knowledge effort, and euducation, as well as gifts. Phlanthropy is a Humanistic philosophy which transcends Christmas or any other Holiday. We may pay more attention to giving at Christmas, and may have some time off from work for Christmas, but people need help at other times of year just as much as they do during Christmas. The moral thing to do is to provide help as we are able to. Don't forget that.

September 17

Greetings! So many events are happening that it would be difficult to touch upon them all. I just wanted to briefly exclaim that I put my money where my mouth is today, and donated $50 to Barack Obama's campaign a short time ago. In addition to that, I joined his website community and posted a blog which I transferred from this blog's June 4 entry "The Kind of President I Want." I also linked from there to this website. I hope some Obamites find their way here. This was the first time that I have donated to any political campaign, and I am feeling really good about it. At least, it gives me a feeling of Karma -- in addition to the strong feeling I had back in February that Obama would be our next President. Still, I am worried about what might happen in this election, so I want to do what I can to help it have a favorable outcome for Obama and well, the whole world, really. My donation today also accomplishes one of two things that have been nagging me. The second is the creation of a message board. I got a tip about a type of message board from a fellow named Pete I met from Thom Hartmann's message board, which I plan to check out. It should be either Pete's type of message board, or the Aimoo one which I have already created but not linked to. I was wanting to have a message board incorporated into this homepage, but ultimately decided that would be difficult, cost money, and make the homepage too "busy" looking, so I am planning to have something which this page can link to.

There are many topics and events to write about, but they will need to wait for other times.

September 14

Well, my parents on on vacation visiting my two elder brothers and their families in northern California, so meanwhile, I have to go over there everyday and feed their cat, birds and fish, collect their mail, etc. They have a dog, too, a miniature Schnauser, as they always do, but this time, they put the dog in a kennel. That is because, last year when they were on vacation, I went to do my duties at their house one day, and their dog, Oliver, who was rather old and couldn't see well, had apparently fallen into the pool overnight and had drowned. I found Oliver behind some boards, wet, stiff, and still. The pool guy had gotten there before me and found Oliver. I dug a large hole in the planter and buried him, where now, an overgrowth of blooming Nasturiums resides. I have to conclude that vacations are hard on pets. Back in June, I wrote about how our Siamese male cat, Kona, succumbed to Feline Infectious Anemia while Eunice and I were on vacation.

Eunice has accompanied me on several of my trips to my parent's house in Riverside, as well, which has lengthened the trips while Eunice scours the yard for fruit, Alabama Jumper worms (for fishing), and unwanted baby plants to take home. School has also been a hassle. I am teaching General Psychology with a new textbook, and wound up with 3 CDs for the Developmental Psychology book before I finally got the one I needed this week to help me make tests. Another factor in my absence of posts is that these posts take quite a while, especially with my slow speed computer, preparing, and logging onto my website provider, etc. Actually, I have been doing some brief, mostly humorous posts on MySpace, since that is generally much easier to do, and I get as many as 15 people viewing them in quick order, which is a much better response than I have been able to get so far on this site. If a site is relatively unknown, it is hard to find even with appropriate searches, unless the exact name is used, certainly on Google, and I think on other search engines as well. The search engines basically use a popularity contest approach, which makes it difficult for new sites from relatively unknown people to get established, no matter how good they are. I think it is a terrible system, and needs to be changed. Now that I have already written two paragraphs, I will try to make today's main topic brief. I have come across some more information about Ronald Reagan's family.

September 3

Downsizing, Relocating, and Consolidating

I have another post about my step-daughter Isabella, with some bad news. Her company downsized recently, and relocated to another city, but her job as accountant remained intact. However, now her company is merging with another company, and her job was eliminated, so now she is without a job. (She already stopped working.) Isabella used to complain about her co-workers, but I was glad that she had a steady job that paid well. I am afraid this is another sign of our economy going downhill. As I have alluded to before, many of these processes are all part of a pattern of growing corporate control, not only over our economy, but over people's everyday lives, as well. Meanwhile, Isabella is looking for another job, but also talking about going to Kansas where some of her evangelical acquaintances live in order to pray more, or back to Taiwan where she is originally from, for a visit and to have some medical work done. That is because, medical treatments are practically free in Taiwan, rather than costing the "arm and a leg" that they do here (how ironic), and meanwhile, her medical insurance has run out.

We saw Isabella monday evening in a Chinese shopping center not far from where she lives in eastern Los Angeles county. All of the stores there are Chinese, including a large supermarket of the 99 Ranch chain which is common in urban areas of California, except for one Japanese Restaurant. After shopping in the 99 Ranch supermarket, Eunice and I met Isabella to have dinner, and she and Eunice decided to go to a Taiwanese restaurant called Room 302. (By the way, please do not confuse Taiwan with Thailand; Taiwan is the renegade Chinese province which has been governing itself for many years.) This is an interesting restaurant, and certainly something authentic, straight out of Taiwanese culture. All of the chairs and tables are imported from the classroom in Taiwan where the owners went to school as children. They are hard, little wooden chairs and tables which are rather small for a big boy such as myself, so it is not a very comfortable restaurant, but it has plenty of atmosphere. I think everyone else there aside from myself, was Chinese, but I am used to that. I noticed that there was an indentation on the right side of each desk, which I subsequently realized was a place to put a pencil or pen, oriented in favor of right-handers. This seems another example of subtle right-handed bias. I did notice that one of the waiters was left-handed, though. The young watresses and waiters wore Taiwanese school outfits. Actually, with the mini-skirts the waitresses had on, it was somewhat "Hooters" like. I just hope no pedophile stumbles into that restaurant. I think the choice of employee uniforms was meant in an innocent way; it just seemed like the waitresses uniforms were coincidentally the type of thing which would interest a potential child molester, and the super-cute waitresses did appear to be of high school age. The restaurant also had posters from Taiwan inside, including one from a place called "Love Canal" in Eunice and Isabella's hometown of Kaohsiung. I do not know why the canal is named "Love Canal" but I guess it's a famous romantic spot in Kaohsiung.

This time, Steve did not accompany Isabella. I do not know whether that is significant or not. I am hoping that Steve can comfort Isabella and help her out, so I was dissapointed that he was not there. Even more dissappointing are Isabella's potential travel plans, which will put her far away from us and Steve, although I do not know for how long. The topic of Isabella's unemployment did not come up while we were with her, at least not for me. There were three reasons for that. One is that Eunice and Isabella were talking in Chinese the entire time. Another is that I was reluctant to bring it up, since it might be a sensitive topic. And the third reason is that Isabella did not bring it up to me. She did not seem upset, so she seems to be taking the situation well. Knowing her, though, she probably is crying quite a lot in private and praying a great deal. I think Isabella wanted a new job which suited her better eventually, but did not want to lose her old job this way. I suppose Isabella views this as an opportunity to find a new job, to grow spiritually, and to do some things that she has not had a chance to do. At least I hope that is her attitude, which seems like the healthiest response to the situation. In any case, we all need to face the reality of this growingly corporate society in which we live. Prayer alone is not going to do anything to stop it, no matter how much we pray; changing this nation's course will take reasoned and passionate action. A little prayer now and then wouldn't hurt, though, as long as our prayers translate into action. If we do not change the course of the United States, we may all need to downsize our dreams, relocate our predicted futures, and consolidate our dwindling resources.

August 26

I know that the Democratic National Convention is going on now. In fact, I am watching it at the moment. However, before I get back to political and other issues, I have at least one more personal blog entry to complete. Anyway, I here that hundreds of bloggers are covering the convention, and I am not one who gravitates toward doing what so many other people are doing. I will leave that job to them for now. But I definitely will get back to politics soon.

On the issue of the two neighbors who suddenly vacated their homes this summer, another neighbor who is a real estate agent confirmed that both houses have been foreclosed on and are now owned by banks -- definitely not a good situation. Now, in her usual eccentric way, Eunice is talking about buying one of them, if the price goes low enough. But however low the price goes, I cannot afford to buy another house, and I am very wary of the prospect of buying another house, anyway, so Eunice will have to find her own money supply, and find a way to manage the house that won't involve turning the house's maintenance and renovation into another sweatshop project for Robert. I am already too busy for that, anyway.

If Sweat Were Paint

Sunday, after a week's respite from church, Eunice dragged me back to my least favorite church. The pastor at the Baptist Church this week was some guy named Gibbs from Florida. I mention his name because my full-time psychology professor colleague/boss at the school where I teach is Travis Gibbs, and I used to be Katie Gibbs' teaching assistant at UC Riverside. Katie was married to a Developmental Psychologist named Keith Widaman, and I used to see them and their children at the Universalist Unitarian Church in Riverside, along with their children, Josh, Sam, and Rachel, in that order, as I recall. Those were the days. I wish Travis or Katie Gibbs had given the sermon rather than this other Gibbs character, who managed to derogate education while making a mockery of science, truth, and even spirituality, in my humble opinion. But I guess that is to be expected with a Baptist Minister.

But here comes the real story of the day. After lunch, Eunice informed me that we would be going to Isabella's (Eunice's daughter's) house because we needed to use some extra bricks there to prop up some rickety stairs outside, and also paint some outside chairs and tables. Dutifully, I took Eunice to the Home Depot to buy some paint, and we headed to Isabella's house. Unfortunately, this was a really hot day, hotter than usual even for this region in August. My mother told me that it was 102 degrees in Riverside, which is probably about the temperature it was in La Puente, where Isabella lives. I sweat easily, much more easily than most oriental people, although I have a good oriental friend, Simon Yee, who sweats very easily. In any case, I am often sweating heavily when Eunice, Isabella, or others do not seem to be sweating at all. I suspect they do not really appreciate how miserable it really feels to sweat profusely as I often do. It was not long, carrying loads of bricks, and cramming them into small spaces under the stairs, before I was indeed sweating profusely. Sweat was dripping from my forehead onto the stairs, and covering my glasses, leaving a residue of salt. Meanwhile, my shirt was covered with mud, consisting of sweat mixed with dirt from the bricks. At one point, I complained that with two people living there (Isabella and her roomate, Alice), and with Steve (the guy who has been attempting to start a relationship with Isabella for years) being crazy about Isabella, why is it left for us to do this type of really hard work. Just on cue, Steve showed up and offered to help us with whatever needed to be done. Score one for Steve! Steve promptly began removing the old, peeling paint from the chairs and table, then began painting them. Eventually, when the stairs repair job was finished, I had to go back to Home Depot to buy more paint, then returned to do some painting (with spray cans) myself. The paint smelled really bad, so I wonder about the healthfulness of using spray paint cans. I guess it is not toxic such as the old varieties of paint were, though.

At one point, Eunice had me trim a palm tree, then chop off the pads of a really large beavertail cactus that were growing into Isabella's yard from a neighbor's yard. Then she gave me a large plastic bag, and had me collect all the fruit from the pads that I had cut off. This plant was really laden with fruit, so I wound up filling the entire bag with what I estimate to be around 20 pounds of cactus fruit, the "Tunas Rojo" found in Mexican markets. In the process, I got numerous cactus needles stuck in my fingers, and even in my abdomen, even though I was wearing gloves at the time. Some of the needles are still embedded in my fingers as I write this. The thought of having so much Tunas Rojo to eat was rather daunting Actually, I like this fruit quite a bit, but it is covered with small needles, just like the cactus pads, and contains plentiful, hard seeds which are difficult to eat, so this is a very troublesome fruit to eat. Meanwhile, I was still sweating profusely, even though it was getting dark -- just another day in Eunice's Sweatshop. I am accustomed to having days like this. I was thinking, that if sweat could be used as paint, all I would have to do in order to paint the chairs and the table would be to stand over them, and let my sweat fall down on them. Alas, such was not the case.

We worked until dark, then all 4 of us went to an interesting local Chinese restaurant called the Happy Crab Restaurant. There, I had a mostly liquid dinner, which was just about what I needed. They had cheap fruit drinks, such as Passion Fruit and Strawberry, plus Egg Flower soup, and even my main dish seemed to consist of mostly Mango juice with some scallops thrown in. Meanwhile, I noticed that Steve and Isabella were holding hands and nudging each other, something that I had never seen, even when Isabella had another boyfriend years earlier. I felt really happy that Isabella and Steve were getting along so well. Perhaps their relationship does have a future after all, despite Eunice consistently telling me that Isabella does not like Steve that much. Nonetheless, I feel that Isabella finally has a boyfriend, and it makes me really bouyantly happy for her and Steve, and relieved. After all, I think Steve is basically a nice guy, although he does not have a good job, and has not finished his college education. Meanwhile, Isabella is 32 years old, super-attractive like her mother, but always very fault-finding when it comes to other people, especially men. I wrote about Isabella's problems with men months ago on this blog. At that time, I did not know that Steve would be moving back into the picture.

Meanwhile, there were several televisions in the background, all tuned in to NBC. I had not realized that the Olympic competition in Beijing was over, but it seems the closing ceremonies were being shown on the television, and this time, unlike the opening ceremonies at our reception challenged television at home, were coming in loud and clear. It made the perfect background for one of the best resaurant dinners I have ever had.

On the way home, I told Eunice about the marked change I had observed in Isabella's behavior that day toward Steve, and that they seemed much closer, and asked Eunice what Isabella had told her about Steve. According to Eunice, Isabella still was not particularly fond of Steve, and not feeling like he was the man for her to marry, so I do not know what to think of the situation. But from what I saw, they seem to be moving in the direction of a serious relationship. YEAH!

July 10

Eunice's Rock Pile Project

Recently, I wrote about Euince's habit of collecting rocks, including on our trip to Colorado and Utah. During the past few days, Eunice has decided to make an "exercise area" in a place in the shade of our Silver Dollar Eucalyptus tree using various rocks we have collected over the years, plus ones which were indigenous to the property. I get the feeling that this is just the latest attempt by Eunice to drive me crazy. At least, it feels that way. Of course, it never quite works. Tommorow, she may very well decide to do something else with the rocks. But for now, we have filled what was our compost hole with rocks. It was about two feet deep, ten feet long, and five feet wide, but now, it is a rather interesting looking pile of rocks, piled up to about a half foot above the original ground level. Naturally, that means that I have been carrying many large, heavy rocks, too large for Eunice to carry. The problem is that some of them were nearly too large for me to carry, as well, but I managed to get them there. Eunice moved some of the smaller rocks, but nothing over a few pounds. The 50-100 pounders (at least they felt that heavy) were my responsibility. Well, I guess that's one way to get some exercise. Who needs weightrooms, when there are rocks to move? of course, since this project is not my idea nor my desire, it feels somewhat like working in a labor camp.

The next step is to cement the rocks in place, with there tops as flat as possible sticking just above the cement, as I understand it. Thus, I made an attempt to put the flat ones on top, and make them flat horizontally to the ground. Nonetheless, Eunice's rock garden is looking more like a rock-hopping practice area than a yoga exercise area. In fact, I can attest to that, since I have had to walk around in there, placing and adjusting rocks. Actually, before we cement the rocks in place, Eunice says we need to get some more of them. Some areas are not high enough. That gives us a reprieve, in a sense, since Eunice will have time to think her wonderful plan over, and perhaps, adjust some of her plans in the direction of reasonableness. One can always hope so. I did mention to Eunice, that, since she loves rocks so much, it seemed a pity to bury so many of them in cement. Perhaps that will sink in before too long. However, another force is Eunice's love of cement. (About half of our yard has already been cemented at one time or another.) Perhaps the idea of combining rocks and cement is just too much for Eunice to resist. My real worry, though, is that we will never be able to make the rocks adequately level for safe exercising, especially with Eunice's tiny size 4-5 feet. She has a tendency to fall down at times, and a couple of times, she sustained injuries after falling down (a broken wrist, and a sprained ankle). Interestingly enough, my father's father also had very small feet and often wore children's shoes, just as Eunice does. Maybe it's some sort of odd family resemblance between non-blood relatives.

As I understand it, the final touches on Eunice's project, include placing beautiful lava rocks and other favorite rocks around the edges of the exercise area, along with an outline of bricks. The exact details of that part are still a bit sketchy to me. Probably, that is because they are still sketchy to Eunice herself. I think Eunice's Rock Garden could be very attractive, with all of the nice rocks that we have, but it might be impractical to make the area a good spot for exercise of any other human activities. I can only hope that Eunice will manage to come up with some good use for all these rocks, that doesn't involve too much backbreaking work. I will keep the internet "posted" on Eunice's Rock Pile Project. Remember, this post is more of a tribute to Eunice's indefatigable and unique spirit than a critique of her planning skills. Eunice and I always manage to cooperate in order to come up with something good.

June 3

My Daily Routine

This morning was a vacuuming day. That was not a typical activity. However, I do have something of a daily routine, even though each day turns out differently. The first thing I do when I wake up is feed the cats. I call them by name and by whistling as I go around the "yard." (They are outside cats.) I put yard in quotes because most of our backyard has been cemented on Eunice's orders. Sometimes, I see all 4 cats, sometimes I don't see Smurfull (originally a stray cat); sometimes I don't see Kona; sometimes, I don't see either one. Both of them are males, so I guess males tend to roam more, even if fixed. I always see Gorjilina, Eunice's favorite. and almost always see Beautricia, both of whom are females. When I can't find a cat, I always worry. However, I know that Kona is usually next door in Ben and Doreen's yard, Smurfull is either back there with Kona or down the street if he's not in my yard, and Beatricia is almost always in our other next door neighbors' yard, or chimney, the Greenes' yard. Over time, I expect Smurfull to become more predictable, more a creature of habit. Humans have routines, cats have routines, virtually every living creature has a routine. That is one of the things that makes us distinctive, and also makes it hard for us to agree on many topics.

Frankly, I try not to have too much of a daily routine. I suspect most people are like that. Things are more interesting when life is somewhat unpredictable, when there is variety and not too much routine. Today, for instance, represents a break in my "We People Versus Me People" routine. However, without a certain amount of routine and discipline, I find it hard to get everything done that I need to. I also suspect a great many people find themselves in that category, as well.

What comes next after feeding the cats? Well, I feed myself -- cereal with milk -- go outside, pull some weeds or check some plants, and pet whichever cats are there. Then I turn on the Thom Hartmann show on a.m. 1150, unless Eunice is still sleeping, and while listening to his show, turn on the computer and go to work, usually this blog, sometimes schoolwork, or occasionally my other website, Dolly-Verse, or the MySpace account which I have recently opened up to contact more people about my websites. The difficulty of a non-celebrity publicizing a website or websites is a topic for another day. I have had a few more people find both of my websites in recent days -- thank, well, thank whoever or whatever is responsible. When Eunice wakes up, she kisses me good morning, then starts blaming me for whatever is not up to her standards -- okay, I was just kidding about the blaming part, but it is not unusual for Eunice to "remind" me that I did something improperly. Eunice and I also have our different routines, perhaps even more so because we are from different cultures. Different routines are something that make it hard for husbands and wives, even, to agree on many topics, no matter how much they love each other.

Around noon, we have an oversize lunch. Eunice loves to feed me -- in fact, overfeed me. I used to have to put back much of the food over her protests, but now, she has mellowed out and usually lets me eat the amount I want to, so I guess my complaining and putting food back in the kitchen worked. Meanwhile, Eunice watches her Chinese noontime show on television. In the afternoon, Eunice usually drags me by the ear out to the car and demands that I take her shopping. I'm sure you realize that is an exaggeration, but it more or less reflects the truth. I really don't like shopping, unless it is for something I really like. (Grocery shopping is usually okay, for instance.) However, Eunice does not drive, so I am the one to take her shopping. Meanwhile, I ask her how much it is going to cost, or how much it will cost, and complain about how close to being broke we are, and what a "payingful" experience it is. Eunice assures me that she will not spend too much, and she will count every penny "(jin jin zhi jiao" in approximateChinese "spelling"). I am not sure my complaining does any good, but I feel compelled to, since money is usually rather tight for us. Yet, we always get by financially, because we really do keep a good account of all our money, and put it to good use. Some days, Eunice calls me out to the yard to do some considerable yard work, moving plants around, watering them, trimming them etc. This happens about once per week. Otherwise, I just pull weeds or pick fruit here and there during the day.

After shopping, it is time for dinner, which is also pretty large, but usually tasty. About then, it is time for Eunice to watch her Chinese evening show from 7 to 8, while I either go off to teach, or stay at home and watch T.V. with Eunice if it is not a teaching night, and maybe check things out on the internet and perhaps do some internet work. Mostly, Eunice and I play with each others' hands and feet while watching comedies on T.V. and relaxing. Often, Eunice also works on her donations, deciding which charities to donate to and how much, and writing encouraging Bible quotations or other notes all over the envelopes. My day ends with me going outside to say "goodnight" to the cats. I tell each of them to be careful, even if I cannot find them. It is a habit, and I feel that they can sense my concern for their safety. Then I get ready for bed, including putting in my $60 dollar glaucoma eyedrops, kiss Eunice goodnight. She says "Shangdi Baoyu Ni" which means "May God take care of you" in Chinese, and "Hao Meng" which means "sweet dreams." I reply with "Shangdi Bao Eunice" and "Hao Meng." Then I am off to bed for my nightly "hibernation" to prepare me for another day's routine, and hopefully, another truth-seeking missile of a blog or poem.

April 26

My Least Favorite Shopping Place

Did I mention I don't like shopping? I guess that is a typical male attitude. Unless I am shopping for something I really like, shopping holds no rewards for me, only the prospect of spending time and money that I can ill-afford to spend. Perhaps shopping for fishing equipment, books, vacation items, or food may perk my interest, but places and trips to places such as Macy's, J.C. Penney, Kohl's, Gottschalk's (or is it MayPenney-Kohlschalk's?), or Wal-Mart, K-mart, Walgreen's and Rite Aid (or is it KWalGreen-AidMart?), along with Michaels, Bed Bath and Beyond and many more just seem to meld together in my mind. In any event, in the relatively near future, Wal-Mart will probably own most of these stores, at least here in the U.S. Part of my problem is that Eunice is afraid to drive. so guess who gets to drive her and accompany her to all of her shopping trips? That would be me. Sometimes, Eunice just asks me to drop her off at a nearby store, then pick her up later. However, this is troublesome and problematic, as well, since I usually have a hard time finding her when I return. Yes, we are "fortunate" (at least she is) to live near a major and still growing shopping center which has many sales. There are so many stores around here, I often have a hard time even remembering where some of the stores are located, unlesss we have been there many times. I can tell you exactly where the good fishing spots are or sporting goods stores are. I know where most of the local supermarkets are, although I am sketchy on some. (She often asks me to go to 2 or 3 different ones on the same trip, so it tends to confuse my memory.) But department stores locations, when we went, and what we bought tends to escape me. I think it is a form of motivated forgetting. I really don't like to think about shopping, or spending money, especially when money is tight. I realize that there are things we need and items that are useful that we buy in department stores, clothing stores and so forth, but I am not crazy about the experience. (I guess I am more like "driven crazy" by the experience.)

There is one particular store, however, in which I have had many particularly traumatic shopping experiences. This recent spring break, it did it to me again, so this is my chance to tell the world about it and give the populace fair warning. The store I am referring to is The Home Depot. Yes, I know that men are supposed to like home improvement stores, and I know that sometimes they serve a useful purpose. Regarding the gender issue, I think that is for the most part a crock of nonsense, a stereotype perpetuated by home improvement store advertising. Paid home improvement workers, most of them men, go to these stores because they have to. Husbands also go to these stores because they are compelled to by their wives, I suspect, in most cases. I think it is the wives who enjoy making their husbands go there, not the husbands who enjoy going there. On the other hand, I probably am not a typical male; I admit that I am an intellectual, and when it comes to intellect, something of a "renaissance man." But I am certainly no "renaissance handyworker," although doing handywork helps me to understand about things in life that I would not otherwise have the chance to.

Frankly, I cannot remember specific traumatic instances in past trips to The Home Depot other than the one last week. I think it is more a matter of emotional conditioning, combined with my intentionally poor memory for these events. I just know that I get a bad feeling when I am around The Home Depot, as though someone were squeezing my bank account dry like a juicer squeezing sugar water out of a piece of sugarcane. Along with that, there is a sense of labor camp duty, hauling heavy objects around, using my less-than-Herculean muscles, and attempting to do things I have no experience doing and no aptitude for. And all of those little parts of hardware, plumbing or whatever they call it seem to meld together in my mind. It is hard to tell one from another, and inevitably, after every home improvement project, there seems to be leftover a pile of items either to be to returned to the store, or kept in storage in the garage, most likely never to be used.

Now it is time to get to last week's incident. Actually, it is rather complicated, and goes back several years. A few years ago, Eunice's Daughter's (Isabella) dishwasher was found not to be working. This was the original dishwasher that was in the house when Eunice bought it. (Eunice used to live there.) It is hard to say how long the original dishwasher had been nonfunctional, since both Eunice and Isabella are in the habit of doing dishes by hand. However, we decided that it was time to by a new dishwasher, especially since Isabella might be moving out of the house sometime and it would not do at all to try to sell a house with no working dishwasher. We went ahead and bought a new GE dishwasher at The Home Depot for $400 (well, 399, but that is part of the little game vendors play). A few months ago, we ate dinner over at Isabella's house, so we decided that would be a good opportunity to use the dishwasher. I had no idea that Isabella had never even tried using it before. When we turned the machine on, water spilled all over the floor, but no water went inside the dishwasher. This past week, we decided to call the General Electric repair department to check out what was wrong with the dishwasher, even though we knew that we would have to pay for the service on this never-used dishwasher. We we discovered was most interesting. The technician, Tony, found that the motor was missing from the dishwasher, and the wires connecting to the motor had been cut. The Home Depot had sold us a dishwasher with no motor! That was the only plausible explanation. It's ludicrous to think that someone would have broken into Isabella's house just to steal a dishwasher motor. The next day, we went back to The Home Depot to inquire about what they could do to remedy the situation. Following a long and most unpleasant discussion, all that their managers were willing to come up with was a 10% discount on a new dishwasher. I said definitively no deal. They were bascially making us waste the $400 I had spent fot the dishwasher, plus the $90 service fee I had paid to GE. Anyway, Tony was more accomodating; he had said something about not charging any further labor fee for installing the new motor, according to Eunice. (I was actually at The Home Depot buying some materials last Tuesday when Tony arrived.)

This week we called General Electric again and scheduled to have a new motor installed in the dishwasher. While I was on the phone, the GE representative surprised me by spontaneously offering the new motor for free. Kudos to GE, and shame on The Home Depot! Perhaps The Home Depot has hit some hard econimic times, along with the rest of the United States, but still, selling a motorless dishwasher and then forcing the customer to pay for it is inexcusable. It is no wonder that The Home Depot has engendered a sickly feeling in me over the years, but basically our only home improvement store options in this area are The Home Depot and Lowe's. The new motor is scheduled to be installed this coming Wednesday, so we will see what happens. I will keep this blog "posted."

April 22

My car is in the repair shop now. The rattling turned out to be just some unimportant plastic which the mechanics cut off, but they also found the car needs new struts and "motor mounts" (never heard of those before), plus I decided to get all new tires, so it is going to cost about another $1,000 in addition to the $500 plus I spent last week. Staying on this car topic, my topic for today involves cars and the economy.

The Dented Car Syndrome

There is something interesting about the economy that I have noticed over the years about cars that I see as I drive around. It is not about how expensive the cars look, although I suppose that expensive cars do not sell as well when the economy is poor. I don't really know that much about the price of different cars, so I cannot comment very much on that. It is not about how new or old cars are, either, although I suppose people try to hold onto their cars longer when the economy is poor. What I am fairly certain of, though, is that the more dented cars I see driving around, whose owners do not bother to fix the dents, the worse the economy seems to be for the average driver. I have noticed lately an increase in dented cars once again, which seems to correspond with our current economic woes and probable recession. Of course, this is a different way to assess the economy than the way the goverrnment does, or investors do, or major corporations do, but I would argue that measures such as these, which look at the standard of living of ordinary people, are more valid indicators of the economy than other types of measures which are used.

Unfortunately, people who make it their business to assess the economy all too often look at corporate profits or the value of the stock market, rather than living wages or the value of a famiy's belongings. They all too often look at employment rates rather than the type of employment that people are finding. To these people, the economy is just faltering a bit, but nothing major. Corporate profits and the stock market are down a little. Perhaps employment rates are down a little as well. But this is purely a corporate perspective, and the economy is there to serve the people, rather than people being there to serve the corporations. It is the standard of living of the majority of citizens that is really crucial in assessing the economy. Imagine if the international news, for instance, were exclusively about the rich people of other nations -- the rich people of Sudan, for instance. Never mind that many people are starving there and a brutal civil war is going on. As long as there are some oil barons in Sudan, and some corporate moguls or filthy rich corrupt politicians, as long as Sudan's economy is "generating wealth," the corporatists would argue that Sudan's economy is not too bad. The corporatists would prefer to look at mean income (the mathematical average of all citizens, including the rich who skew the mean income upward), not the median income (the point at which half of the population has a greater income, and half, lower). But the median income tells us more about how the average person lives.Of course, raising the median income without changing the mean income would require that wealth be more evenly distributed among people, and that is what this economy really needs, but "heavens no" the CEO's of the world cry, "We can't take a pay cut. That's not the way our world works!" No, it is not, but it is the way the real world works, as opposed to the fantasy world these people have been constructing for the past 28 years.

As for me, I take my cues regarding the health of the economy from the condition of the cars people drive.

April 21

Spring "Brake"

I meant to put a "gone fishing" sign on this website several days ago, but we were too busy to even think about it. This past week was my "Spring Break" which means I try to do things which are difficult to accomplish when school is in session. Monday, I took my car to the repair shop "Auto Import Experts" which is the shop that saved my car from the scrap heap, according to my father, when my parents still owned the car. To backtrack in time, my parents bought this car as a new car quite some time ago. It is a 1992 Toyota Corolla, which my parents hardly ever drove, mainly because it kept having problems. The main problem, I believe, was that its battery constantly ran down. It was Auto Import Experts who fixed this problem and whatever other problems it may have had. When we needed a new car about 2 1/2 years ago, I had the idea of having my parents give this unused car to me, so we could save some money and the car would finally be put to proper use. Thus, it became my car. It turned out that it needed lots of new parts when I got it, but since then, it has done well. Recently, I noticed it felt rough when I was braking, a problem I was familiar with from my previous car, also a Toyota Corolla. I found that when that happened, it meaned the brake rotors were getting warped and needed to be replaced. It turned out I was right; my car needed new brake rotors, and also, an axle shaft or some such, which really surprised me. (They showed it to me and it was pretty large, but I am not familiar with many car parts. As anyone can tell, I am not enamored with car anatomy. I just want a safe car which gets me there, and more importantly, I believe we desperately need to develop affordable transprotation using alternative fuel sources, something which could have and should have been done long ago but has been stalled by the intrasigence of the auto manufacturers.) The mechanic also did a safety check and checked and rotated my tires, so my car seemed fit to go on our pending fishing trip.

Well, after Monday, Eunice and I turned out to have a very interesting and eventful Spring Break, which will be the topic of the next several posts, I believe.

The short version goes like this: Tuesday and Wednesday -- Helping Eunice's daughter Isabella with home repairs of several kinds and getting ripped off by The Home Depot (more to come), and I don't just mean by high prices;

Thursday-Sunday -- We went on a fishing trip to the lower Colorado River area, an area we went to last year during Spring Break and really liked. We did even better fishing-wise this year than last, and caught fish everywhere we tried. We caught numerous large specimens of our favorite "panfish" Redear Sunfish A.K.A. Redear Yumfish. They averaged around a pound, which is really large for a species such as this, and I caught the biggest one on a lure (plastic "jig"). We also caught many Bluegills which averaged around a half pound, good size for Bluegills, but small compared to the Redears. Plus we caught 6 Smallmouth and 4 Largemouth Bass. Now, Eunice is interested in catching more Smallmouth Bass; they are very beautiful and sporty fish. Most of the bass were under the size limit (minimum 13 inches long), so we released those. We kept the Redears and Bluegills which were all good-sized and good to eat (with no limits on these prolific species) except I gave two Bluegills away to a guy who wanted to use them for catfish bait. (Yes, it is legal to use Bluegills for bait on the Colorado River, but not most other places.) A catfish would have to be really big to eat a medium-size Bluegill such as those. Apparently, the area has lots of large catfish, but we did not see any of those, much less catch one. (I did catch a 6 1/2 pound Flathead Catfish in 1993 from the Colorado River while fishing for Bluegill with a bobber and worm and 4 pound test line, however.) Another interesting event was at the place where we had the best fishng, a place called Aha Quin resort. We noticed many good-sized bass swimming around, but they would not bite, although the Redears and Bluegills were being quite cooperative. After fishing there about 3 hours, we noticed a great deal of boat activity in the area. At that time, I took a break to drink some Powerade. On my way to the car, I noticed about 30-40 men, each with a large plastic bag. Each man, in turn, pulled bass out of his bag until the bag was empty and each bass was weighed. It was a bass tournament weigh-in. After weighing the fish, they were put back in the bag, then the fisherman went down to the shore about 20 feet away from the little dock where we were fishing, turn the bag upside down, and let all the still-healthy bass slide down into the water. At that point, it dawned on me why so many uncooperative bass were swimming around. They were probably "Sore-Mouthed Bass" as opposed to Smallmouth or Largemouth Bass, which were still in the area from the provious day's tournament. I would say the average tournament fisherman had an average of about 5 bass out of 6 possible which is the limit on the Colorado River. That's a lot of bass, around 150-200 according to my estimate, all over the size limit. Well, when I returned from watching the weigh-in, there was a large blond-haired man on the dock with my wife, and I noticed a couple of bass lying on the dock. Even though the tournament fishermen are required to used lures, sometimes a fish is hooked too deeply or in the wrong way (in the gills, perhaps) even with a lure, so the fish is unable to recover and will soon die. It turned out this fisherman had two such bass. One was a large Smallmouth (about 17 inches long and over 2 pounds); the other was a 13 inch Largemouth. The Smallmouth was already dead, and the Largemouth was barely alive, so the kindly gentleman offered them to my wife, which she gladly accepted. We just ate the Smallmouth for lunch today, and it was delicious.

By the way, regarding fishing, there are many fisherpeople who espouse a catch and release policy, especially when it comes to bass and trout, but I believe a policy of "selective harvest" makes the best use of fish as a resouce. We all hear about how good fish are for you, what a good food source they are, so in a world with a huge and still exponentially growing population, they should be utilized, but not overfished. If you think about it, fish such as these grow naturally, without human intervention, so they make a perfect supplement to a person's diet. I think of it in somewhat the same way I would think of picking wild berries, except we use fishing poles instead of hands. True, fish are animals, but their brains are so rudimentary that they probably have no awareness that they are even alive in the sense that we think of awareness, so I don't feel too badly about taking them (or crabs, crawfish or lobster) to eat -- just as long as a people aren't being "pigs" about it. And speaking of pigs, it is certainly more ethical to eat fish than eating a relatively intelligent animal such as a pig.

To get back to the trip, yesterday, we had to drive back home through the Mohave Desert, which was fine, except the gasoline in Needles was too expensive, so we went to the next gasoline place, 35 miles down the road. The gasoline was even more expensive there, $5.29 per gallon, but I really needed gasoline, espeically since the next place was another 58 miles down the road, so I gritted my teeth and paid through the nose, $20 -- there was no way I would fill up the tank at that price. And the gas station owners keep telling us they are "victims" of high gasoline prices, too. They barely make any profit, so they say. They would not be so unethical as to gouge the public. Yeah, right! And Exxon is the world's largest charity, I suppose. But anyway, we had a good trip, so onward I drove, and things would have been alright, except we still hadn't made it to Barstow, the first real town of any consequence on our way home, and the low gas warning light was already on. But that would have been okay, except while 50 mph winds were whipping across the road, and Eunice was feeding me Fig Newtons (my entire dinner), a loud thumping noise appeared, and the car became very rough to drive. That could only mean one thing -- one of my recently checked and rotated tires had gone flat (and for no apparent reason). I moved over to the right, and eventually found a call box. Eventually, a nice man (I think his name was Ralph) from the tow truck company came by and installed the spare tire. (I am not good at things such as changing tires.) So things were sort of okay again, although delayed by a couple hours. I started the car and got ready to hit the road again, put the car in reverse, and -- was serenaded by the sound of grinding rubber, which apparently found tis way from my shredded tire into parts of the car where it does not belong. I asked "Ralph" (or whatever his name was) to check it out, and he said some rubber probably had gotten into the brake calipers and was rattling around. Ultimately, I decided to go on my way, as I noticed various thumping sounds as rubber left the car, followed by somewhat quieter driving than previously. Things were getting better; perhaps all of the rubber would work its way out without causing any damage of consequence. I was able to drive home with a tolerable, constant, light humming that isn't usually there. Unfortunately, something is still in there, so I will need to get it checked soon unless it gets better on its own. I hear it especially when I make a turn, so I think it may be somewhere other than the brakes. Either a trip to the place where I bought the tires (Goodyear), or Auto Import Experts, or both will be in order. I'll keep you "posted."

And that was the "short version" of "what I did on my Spring Break."

April 10, 2008

Site Update # 1

Yesterday I was preoccupied so did not write any entry for my blog. First, it was schoolwork, then Eunice and I went to Isabella's (her daughter's) house again to arrange for some work to be done on her house. It is remarkable how solicitous Eunice is of her daughter, and the lengths she goes to in order to help her. Of course, it always involves me, too, especially since Eunice does not drive. Nothing remarkable happened yesterday, although Eunice did bring lots of good food that she was planning to cook for the three of us, but Isabella came home while we were at a Chinese store called T and S Emporium, and Isabella cooked dinner for us -- how dissapointing that I did not get to eat Salmon tail and Miso soup and whatever else Eunice had planned for dinner! Oh well! It's not that Isabella is a bad cook; she actually cooks pretty well. I wish to God that Isabella would find some guy she was happy with and marry him, but she is never satisfied with any of the many guys who hover around her. She claims that God has to tell her which person to marry. (She is very religious and Christian). Personally, I feel that is just another major religious "cop-out" (excuse). But what can I do? She does not seem to take my opinions seriously (because I don't agree with her religious convictions). I may write about some of these issues another time, but I need to be carefull what I say, lest I get in trouble with my wife or Isabella.

I also wish to update people about this website. Here are my plans:

1. I plan to put the old blog entries into archives by topic.

2. I plan to add a message board or comment box of some sort. (I need help in doing this, so it is not a spontaneous thing for me to do.)

3. I plan to add a Myspace page which links to both of my sites because I know a great many people go to Myspace.

4. I plan to update my other site (Dolly-verse) as well when it gets more visitors; however, working on my blog has been preoccupying.

5. So far, most of my daily topics have been general and theoreitical in nature, laying the groundwork for other discussions. I plan to have a mixture of theoretical and applied topics with more detail in the future.

6. Future themes include: an enlightened view of the nature of war I call "The Myth of War," which is timely given the current state of occupation (not war) in which the United States is engaged; Observations concerning politics, especially since we seem to be in a politically crucial period of U.S. history, at least until the election this November; and my view of spirituality which I call "Rational Spirituality" or "Plurism," a topic which is relevant anytime.

Meanwhile, I am doing some research into my next particularly heretical topic: "This is the Way We Wash Our Brains (So Early in the Morning)"

April 7, 2008

Roberto, the Avocado Picker

Yesterday, Saturday, we went to the house of Eunice's daughter, Isabella, which is about a 45 minute drive from here. (We live in Moreno Valley; she lives in La Puente.) That is not an unusual event but I just wanted to write something about my ordinary life and chores. While there, I changed lightbulbs and clock times, vacuumed the rug (in addition to my home rug, acted as tax advisor, generally helped out Eunice and Isabella, and picked avocados. Apparently, I am some sort of expert when it comes to all of these chores, especially doing taxes and picking avocados. When I was an undergraduate college student, I took part in a summer research program at UCLA. I recall my friend Peter Mirkin who came with me from Ptizer college, along with some of our acquaintances from the research program, had some fun kidding me about an attractive student who was going to UC Riverside, which is in my hometown. As I recall, her name was Mardi and she was a premed major who had this boyfriend, who, it seems, picked avocados. Some of the other students suggested that I could become her avocado picker of the future, although I really had no interest in replacing her present avocado picker. At that time, I had no idea that someday, I would be climbing avocado trees to pick their fruit, and scouring the upper branches of avocado trees with a fruit picker (which I recognized as having come from my parents' house) for avocados from the higher branches. And I don't even like avocados. I ended up picking 69 of them, as near as I could tell. Maybe that is the "Roberto" in me coming out, but I doubt it; some of my classmates at Pitzer College used to call me Roberto even though I am not Spanish. I guess they thought I looked Spanish. On the other hand, my red-haired (what's left of it) brother Bruce goes with the French pronunciation, "Robair."

Doing these chores Saturday reminded me of a topic which I had intended to discuss on my blog; the overwrought and overvalued idea of specialization in today's society. It seems that more and more over the years, as new specialty careers emerge, we reward people for becoming highly specialized in their lives. This specialization can take over a person's life; the most devoted, hardest working individuals tend to wind up with most of the goodies i.e., money and recognition. In my opinion, this is an alarming trend, although to some degree, perhaps it is inevitable. People seem to admire those who "eat, drink and breathe" some specialty topic. That is how they "get to the top." But that is not how well-rounded and all-around good and moral persons are developed. I think there is another folk saying about "not being able to see the forest for the trees." That seems to apply to overly specialized people. In my own life, I have tried to avoid overspecialization. (In fact, this blog is an example of that; I try to avoid making it too specialized as well.) True, when asked to do chores I do not really want to do by family members, I may grumble a bit or whine a little, but it is good for our well-roundedness when we learn various skills and get to see life from a variety of perspectives. Some people with a good education may complain that helping out with menial chores or projects such as home improvement projects is beneath them, but I never use that excuse. If I complain, it is because I had some other actitivity in mind for that time period. Housework, yardwork, and home improvement chores are all part of a well-rounded life, as well as something we may owe to those we love. Hobbies which do not relate to work are also part of a well-rounded life, and something to share with those we love. Too many people in today's fast-paced, specialistic society lose sight of that, or perhaps only remember that during their annual, 2-week vacation. Being a total person is a year-around project, something that never ends.

April 2, 2008

Beware of Dogmatists

My Peruvian-born neighbors two houses away are really nice people. But when you look at the fence between their front yard and back yard, they have a sign that says "Beware of dogs." They have two dogs; one looks like a mongrel female with mottled coloring, around 50 pounds, while the other is a little terrrier type dog. One time, the mongrel came into our yard, and I was somewhat alarmed, especially since I knew that 2 of our cats, Kona and Gorjilina, were in the area, and we had suffered 2 of our cats being killed by dogs in recent years. As I rushed from the driveway into the front yard, I heard the neighbor's mongrel dog yelping in distress, then I saw her jump back over the little fence at the edge of our property. Nearby were Gorjilina and Kona, looking rather pleased with themselves. At that point, I realized that this particular dog was basically an oversized marshmallow that had been besieged by my cats, and that there was little to "Beware of."

In contrast to my neighbor's dogs, dogmatists represent something to truly beware of, in my view. Actually, I was already planning for this to be today's topic, when I turned on the radio to the Thom Hartmann show this morning, and he was interviewing a man named Sam Harris, a neurobiologist and ardent atheist who has written a book proposing that we rid soiceity of religion. Sam Harris makes many good points, but his ardent atheism is to the point of being dogmatic itself, a point which Hartmann made. (His show is actually more of a political show, but spiritual topics have a way of frequently making their way into his show.) Hartmann basically made the same point I was planning to make, but that is okay.I will make the point my own way. Dogmatists on any side of an issue are dangerous. People can be dogmatic about many things, really. Political dogmatism is something to beware of. Scientists can even be dogmatic. Sports fans can be dogmatic about their favorite teams. However, although most people who consider themselves to be religious are probably not particularly dogmatic, and may even question the veracity of many of their own religion's holy scriptures, it is religion which does the most to encourage dogmatic thinking, and it is among the religious where one finds most dogmatic individuals. (Hartmann today called himself a Christian Buddhist, somewhat jokingly, although he seems rather agnostic to me -- certainly not any sort of dogmatist. In fact, his open-mindedness is one of the things I like best about him.)

There are two basic problems with dogmatism:

1. Their belief systems are virtually never true and are woven of the cloth of self-delusion. Even Harrris, the athiest, who presumably believes that all mental processes, including consciousness and spirituality, can be explained through the mechanics of neurobiology -- neurons, synapses and neurotransmitters -- would be hard-pressed to find evidence for this assertion. In fact, I would argue that if anything, consciousness and spirituality theselves are evidence that something more than a mechanical process involving chemicals and electricity is responsible for our exsitence; consciousness and spirituality themselves ultimately have a spiritual explanation. There is an intelligence and consciousness to the universe itself. On the other hand, to believe that certain people have, or had, the special privilege of direct knowledge about the origin and nature of the universe, is ludicrous, but this is what religious dogmatists generally believe.

2. The practical problem created by dogmatism is that they tend to lead to conflict, even war. "Wars fought in the name of religion" generally are perpetrated by the evangelicals, the "fundamentalists," the dogmatists. Even when dogmatism does not lead to such drastic consequences, the tension created by the interface of conflicting dogmas is palpable and the source of much prejudice and discrimination. (I recognize that religion can be a force for good, but it has limits, as the dogmatism topic illustrates.)

In my view, the solution to this problem involves making a conscious decision to be open-minded toward others and the world at large, and honest with ourselves. We need to really try to divest ourselves of self-delusion, which is a difficult thing to do, but to the extent that people can do so, we can start to see the world more as it really is, and each other, more as we really are, promoting true understanding. Sometimes the best solution is to admit uncertainty. I realize that many people are uncomfortable with the notion of uncertainty and agnotiscism, but just because a person admits to not knowing something, that does not make the person a bad or stupid person. In fact, the smartest and best people learn to ask fundamental and relevant questions. We live in a wonderful world, in a marvelous and amazing universe, and it is our questions which ultimately lead to learning and answers.

Postscript: When I told my wife, who is Chinese, about this post, she told me that Confucius said: "Da zhi ruo yu," which is variously interpreted as "A man of great wisdom often appears slow-witted;" "A master looks like a fool;" "An intelligent man man looks dull;" "Apparent ignorance is in fact informed;" "A wise man looks stupid;" or, "The wisest man is often stupid-looking." My literal word-by-word translation using my Chinese dictionary turns out to be "Big wisdom seems foolish."

April 1, 2008

Eunice the Decorator

Today I decided to take a break from my intellectual discourses, even though I have several additional topics in waiting. You might say it is for April fool's that I am doing this, but it is not a joke. Just so you know, I do not always sit around doing heavy duty thinking about psychology-related intellectual topics, although I do think a lot.

Today, however, I want to write about (I absent-mindedly wrote "talk about" since I often write as though I am have a conversation) my wife and me, and our lifestyle. First of all, I would like to dispell possible misconceptions about who might operate a website such as this.

I am not rich; in fact, our income is below the median and has been virtually all of my life, although my family including my parents have considerable money (but definitely not rich).

We do not live in a big house ; we live in an ordinary house which my wife Eunice bought with her savings in 1993.

We do not have a narrow-minded set of interests. In fact, both of us have broad interests rather than narrow ones. We are more generalists than specialists, which I think is a good thing. We go fishing, do yardwork, listen to music and talk shows, Eunice goes to church and drags me along, which winds up giving me more reasons not to be a religious person although I will always be a spiritual person. We go shopping together, etc. Of course we watch television, but we do not have cable. Eunice had an accident when she was learning how to drive, and ever since has been afraid to drive, which means I have to drive her when she wants to go somewhere.

We live very simply and are major spendthrifts. As I mentioned, we do not have cable. My computers (two of them) are not high-speed; they are dial-up, which makes it harder for me to use the internet. We would need cable, actually, in order to have high-speed internet access; this area does not get DSL. Apparently, we are too far out in the boondocks to get DSL. Eunice scrutinizes all the advertisements sent to us in the mail, looking for bargains on things we could use. Then we go out and buy them as long as they are cheap enough. As for me, a am a terrible consumer. I do not like to spend money, especially on myself. I find it a "payingful" (as in painful) experience. What money I spend on myself is mostly out of necessity, except what I spend on fishing. Even when I spend money on fishing, I try to be cost efficient, though. We both like to eat fish, and often bring home enough to make the venture financially worthwhile -- mostly "panfish" such as Bluegill, Redear Sunfish (A.K.A.) Redear Yumfish, and Crappie, which taste a lot better than they sound. We also catch lots of small fish which we let go, and make efforts to obey the rules, so we are not total fishing hogs. (In fact, this past Saturday, we went ocean fishing and I ended catching and releasing a 19 inch California Halibut, since they have to be at least 22 inches long in order to legally keep them here in California.) But fishing is a way to get outdoors, go adventuring, get some exercise, and catch some tasty, fresh, unpolluted, naturally and organically grown fish. With my money, I would rather spend it on others than myself. Being a member of society is about taking care of each other. I msut admit, in our consummate cheapskateness, Eunice and I have been known to do our Christmas shopping at the 99 cent store.

We love to grow fruit and veggies in our yard. This is another organic and fresh way to supplement our diet, and for the most part, it is cost-effective once again. Eunice works hard on the yard, and I help her. Our front yard is a rose garden, supplemented with other flowers, while most other areas are for growing fruit or vegetables with varying degrees of success. By the way, many of our plants came up from seed, including some fruit trees, or came from cuttings. Some of our fruit trees include Nectarine, Peach, Plum, Pineapple Guava, Pomegranite, Grapefuit, varous other citrus which usually die after about one year, a Sapote tree which has never bloomed, a Babaco Papaya which grows in a large pot and miraculously survived freezing last year after being "dead" for several months, then had about 100 or so baby trees come up from the roots in addition to the recovery of the upper part of the tree, and an Ein Shemer Apple tree which miraculously bears one crop in the summer, and another in the winter. Those are all of the fruit trees I can think of. We also have successful Dragon Fruit (a fruit-bearing cactus similar to an Easter Cactus), various type of Tomatoes (Yumatoes -- obviously one of our favorites), various types of Pepper plants, Eggplant, Blueberries and Raspberries (or "Blue-bellies and Razz-bellies"), Swiss Chard, Broccoli, Basil, Oregono, Rosemary etc. Many of these plants, as well as the Papaya, are being grown in the "Kitty Palace," a large shelter made of metal fencing which serves as a greenhouse of sorts as well as a cat shelter. It looks better than it sounds, by the way.

We both love cats, and have four outdoor cats, which are all very smart cats, 2 girls, Beautricia and Gorjilina, and 2 boys, Kona and our youngest Smurfull, who simply appeared about two years ago as a stray kitten. We have had all the other cats about 5 1/2 years, if I recall correctly. There are pictures and descriptions of the cats on our other website, Dolly-Verse.

Then there is my eccentric wife Eunice. She tends to overdo everything. But that is okay. Our love is about a 10 on the Richter scale of love. She loves to decorate, using whatever materials are available. She had an old purse, so she decorated it with small teddy bears and cloth insignias. Our old refrigeratot was leaking, so we got a new one a few months ago, which she immidiately decorated with magnets and stickers and teddybears, and I don't mean a few decorations; they virtually cover the entire refrigerator. Eunice donates to about 40 charities per month (using my money, since she does not have a job). She writes encouraging stuff and sayings from the Bible all over each letter. Our house is also decorated with toy animals of various kinds, especially her room (the master bedroom), probably numbering over 100. I sleep in another bedroom, by the way, because I "snort" i.e., snore, too much and apparently bounce around on the bed and rip the sheets out while sleeping. The preceding are some of the reasons I call her "You-Nice-doll." Obviously, I like to make up appropriate names for things. That is part fo who I am, and totally consistent with my training as a Social Psychologist. By the way, I plan to take pictures of some of Eunice's decorations in the near future and post them.

I got the idea for today's post while writing yesterday's post, while being interrupted to help Eunice plant some Cacti in pots, and answer tax questions from my step-daughter, Isabella. I thought "what a contrast from the way a reader would envision me!" Yet these interruptions were analogous to someone being interrupted during a dream, then immediately going back sleep to continue my dream. I was in a "zone" I get often into while I write, especially when I write about serious topics (not so much today), a sort of spiritual zone, akin to that of a Buddhist in a meditative trance, I would think. This is the place where I find my peace and my place, and my ideas, as a person of thought, regardless of what may be going on around me.