News, Notes, and Notions For 16Jun2024
Father's Day thoughts from the World's Greatest Dad (Regional Qualifier Runner-Up) plus latest episodes of Heard Tell and a busy week of writing all over the place
Father’s Day is one of those Hallmark Card holidays that hits differently for different folks. By default if you are alive somebody somewhere was technically your sire, but the emotional bonds and various levels of attachments, responsibilities, help, traumas, good traits, bad habits, and on and on have been debated by philosophy, religion, psychiatry, and more bad songs than we care to admit.
Most Father’s Day I make sure to call mine if not visit, and try to downplay whatever my own children tell me about myself, knowing I could have done better, been there more, a thousand things I would do differently now than I would do then that they are not even aware of. Such is the burden of striving to be a flawed human trying to raise less-flawed children into being better-than-you humans; the rabbit hole of am I good enough is endless, so one must do their best, hope for the best, and try not to screw it up too bad.
I will be very thankful this Father’s Day, however, above just the usual platitudes. On New Year's Day of this year I very nearly lost my father, who got 12 hours into 2024 before the year went sideways. A massive deep brain stem stroke struck him down, and besides the horror of the situation as a father I was proud of the quick thinking of my college-aged kid who was there and reacted swiftly to get my own father the lifesaving medical attention he needed.
Rushing to the hospital to see him, my worst fear was not so much death and losing him, but the fear that I would not be able to ever talk to him again. That fear was not unfounded; he had lost all speech and full right side function at onset and then again - more severely - during the ambulance ride from our local hospital up to WVU Ruby Memorial in Morgantown. So the relief when I walked into his room and he knew who I was, and tried to make some noises, was immense.
Over the next few months, I watched my father work nonstop on his rehab. Physical therapy, speech therapy, and occupational therapy became a routine even after the days in the hospital, weeks in the rehab facility. The man who thought retiring meant trimming down to working just one job never stopped working on something, even if it was just pushing his straw up and down his drink in his hospital bed, or doing rows with his walker sitting in his chair, or constantly stretching and exercising. While I practically moved back in to help him and mom out for the first part of this year, I was mostly chauffeur, fetcher, chief cook and bottle washer while he did all the hard work. And he did. His miraculous recovery was a miracle of very hard work, good medical science, and an indomitable spirit.
Those first few months of this year were precious moments spent with my father. It was good payback for the weeks he would spend sitting in my hospital room back in 2016 when I was inpatient in Duke hospital for 5 months, 4 major surgeries, weeks of rehab, and endless minor procedures. One of those things you learn with age is the most trying times become the most treasured memories of great love because nothing shows love like giving your time does.
Which is a great regret I have with my own children. That college-aged kid that saved my father’s life was 14 hours old by the time I flew from Germany to Womans & Childrens in Charleston, WV, her having arrived way early and having some issues to be sorted out before coming home. My youngest daughter was four months old the first time I held her after deplaning from my second deployment to Iraq, having watched her birth on a webcam from about as far away as you can be. Yet another of my children I not only was present, but got the full experience while holding a leg and being the first thing she saw as she entered the world, having arrived home from another Iraq deployment five days prior due to her sister having a medical emergency.
Such is life when you are on active duty. But I do regret the time lost even as I’m proud of my service. I have guilt over the time lost for working out of state for several years. The hindsight of knowing all the time lost doing hundreds of other things, both big and small in moments, hindsight causing me to bitterly regret letting anything come before those precious moments of time that come like a whisper and are gone just as quick. The cruel way time and maturity works is you just start figuring out this parenting thing right about the time they no longer need you to parent them and the work is mostly done for good, bad, or indifferent.
So for Father’s Day I plan on focusing on being better with the small moments, realizing in the small hours of life when the end comes you spend more time thinking on those precious moments than the big ticket items we spend too much of our lives worrying about. There is a reason I start every episode of Heard Tell by thanking you, the listener, for “giving us the most precious thing you have, your time” because it is true. And time with your father, with your children, with whoever you love and whoever loves you back, is far more precious than anything else.
Adjust the days we have remaining to us accordingly.
Heard Tell This Week:
Big Doings In Space, SpaceX Starship, Boeing Starliner, Future of NASA & more w/ our friend, writer, and spacecraft operator Dr. Michael Siegel
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Your Heard Tell Show is turning down the noise of the news cycle and getting to the information we need to discern our times by covering the latest news from outer space, or at least what man is doing to keep going up there. Our own resident space expert Dr. Michael Siegel returns to Heard Tell to talk about NASA and Boeing's Starliner finally getting a crew off the ground, Space X's Starship going up and coming back in (mostly) one piece, and the inevitable comparisons between the two. Plus, since both missions had issues, Michael discusses from his own experience being on the team that runs a spacecraft mission what it is like to problem solve and issue in space. Plus we talk about the evolution of rockets, the realities of moon and Mars colonization, and the future of space, NASA, and mankind's eternal quest to go to the stars.
Enough of the Doom & Gloom, Caitlin Clark Story is Breaking Folks, Misinformation Any Which Way You Want It, Partisanship Fail, & more with host Andrew Donaldson
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Your Heard Tell Show is turning down the noise of the news cycle and getting to the information we need to discern our times by talking about how big loud news events like Donald Trump's conviction, Hunter Biden's conviction, and even the disaster that was January 6th all bring wide sweeping reactions but actually show things are holding up pretty good, despite the doomsaying and hand wringing online. The Caitlin Clark story added another twist as she was left off the US Olympic team and the talking heads and social media accounts lost their everloving minds, even though the correct basketball decision wasn't the correct business decision. Host Andrew breaks down his recent writing on "misinformation" further and addresses some of the reaction and pushback. Plus, an example of how just following partisan politics can leave you missing the big picture and really important issues. We end on a good note, with Andrew's beloved West Virginia receiving one of the most prestigious awards in all of food to a very deserving chef.
My Latest Writing:
I’ll be starting as a regular commentary writer for West Virginia Watch in August, but this is my debut piece for them. WV Watch is an excellent outlet full of really top-notch journalism and I’m thrilled to be included in the work they do going forward:
he weeks of questions, non-answers, conflicting stories, changing explanations, insistent reporting, and combative state officials marked the road from Boone County back to the Governor’s Reception Room press conference. Gov. Jim Justice was not present, despite his own comments, walk backs, and deflections having central roles in the events between Miller’s death and the gathering of press and political appointees to discuss it. Gov. Justice’s Chief of Staff Brian Abraham manned the podium to officiate what was supposed to be an answer session to questions about the state’s involvement in the Miller case before and after her body was discovered.
What the assembled press got instead was a guided meditation on exculpatory minutia, a relentless circle of legalities, technical details, curious coincidences, and blameless happenstances. The trooper should have called, not driven the 25 minutes to the county CPS office. Previous CPS visits to the home were not directly related to Miller’s death. An informal referral is not a formal referral. Mistakes were made but no one did anything wrong. There were “nuances” that could have been followed up on, but it is no one’s fault they weren’t.
Could’ve. Should’ve. Would’ve.
However, Abraham explained, the homeschool paperwork was not properly done, so focus on that and get the legislature to do something there. Enforcing homeschool rules will now become the focus of the folks that want to do something following the death of Kyneddi Miller. But focusing down on just one aspect of the Miller case will functionally result in the totality of the system that failed her so badly going unchanged, unchallenged, and unaffected.
Which is the problem when mistakes were made but no one is to blame; accountability and meaningful change become impossible. Abraham gives the game away by briefing on an investigation but offering no official report, while at the same time bristling at accusations the state is not forthcoming. Nothing on paper to be picked apart and dissected for more conflicting information, more gaps in responsibilities, more failures, “nuanced” or otherwise. No official document to feed a story that would just go away if the pesky press would stop focusing on it.
My latest column for The Fayette Tribune:
The partisan part of politics is loud, omnipresent, and dominant because that is where the media business models intersect with the passions and interests of the public. Harnessing those passions is how those seeking to gain or hold onto office achieve their goals. Political advertising and the talking head ecosystem are the supporting industries fueling the manufacturing of our political system at large. So, it is more important than ever to stop for a moment and understand that advertising isn’t running a government office, or legislating, or representing a city or county. Those things require real people doing real work, not just characters on the socio-political stage playing the role that they think will bring them fame and fortune.
As all-encompassing as the partisan part of politics is, the struggle between parties and ideologies is more intramural competition within the walls of our system than those blaring ads and talking heads want to really admit. The real struggle in politics is the power structures: Who has them, who can keep the powerful accountable, the funding and movements behind the quest for power, and the people our imperfect system relies on. Regardless of the party, once in office the elected have real power to make real decisions, and all too often that sort of power overrides everything else and gives way to human nature. The old saying doesn’t go “Absolute power creates absolute wonderful” for a reason. Power does corrupt, and given enough unfettered power, all the partisan posturing in the world won’t hold back human nature to use that power beyond confines.
Accountability is the hardest part of politics; it is far harder than going along with the current fad, big name charismatic candidate, reacting to that convincing ad, or being outraged because a talking head told you to be without checking the validity out for yourself. But accountability starts with something as simple as seeing those omnipresent political ads in a hotly contested election year, and deciding for yourself you don’t care to be talked to, talked at really, like that.
At Ordinary Times, I did some musing on congressional age limits after North Dakota passed a ballot measure to that end, even though it is all but assured to be struck down by legal precedent in the courts:
If you are curious as to the crack about the courts throwing this out, the Supreme Court ruling in Term Limits, Inc v Thornton has this pretty well covered, at least until a different version of the Supreme Court decides otherwise. In short, the legal aspect of this is pretty well set that adding requirements to federal office is not going to fly.
But the idea is a good one. While some will howl about ageism, the idea that we have mandatory retirement for the military but not for those tasked with funding and oversight for that same military should not be some taboo thing that cannot at least be discussed. All members of congress are mortal, all are – we think, at least – human beings, and all of them are going to grow old and die. Part of that growing old and dying process usually has a decline in abilities and faculties that go along with it. While putting some kind of statutory acknowledgement of this immutable fact of life would be reasonable politics, power and the perception of picking on the olds who hold a disproportionate amount of that power ensure such a thing isn’t going to happen anytime soon.
But reality doesn’t care about perceptions. And the reality is we’ve seen some frankly disturbing and embarrassing scenes in Congress and the US Senate of members clearly not able to do their duties yet wheeled around as if they are for… reasons. The reality is that we, as a people, are about to pick between a clearly declining current president who is 81 – and would be 82 on inauguration day if re-elected, and would be 86 at the end of that possible term – and a 77 year old former president who has pending criminal court cases, felony convictions pending appeals, and says even crazier things than the 81 year old – but that lunacy is somehow the key tenet to his brand.
What a sad testimony to the representative government we have decided best represents us. Political inertia is, apparently, one hell of an electoral drug.