Viva Madiba!

There are times in my life where I realize that what I thought, or was led to believe, was off target. I recently went to see the movie "Invictus" with Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon. It is a story of Nelson Mandela during the first year of his Presidency in South Africa. I recommend the film highly. It is one of the best dramatizations of the power of forgiveness that I have seen in recent years.

I was so impressed by the portrayal of President Mandela's character, I went to my local library and checked out his autobiography, "The Long Walk to Freedom". My first awareness of South Africa's struggle was in the late 60's and 70's when the quest for freedom in that country was coming to a head. I did not know that that conflict had been going on since the 1920's and that Nelson Mandela had been a leader in that effort since the 1940's. Much of what I heard through the media, as it turns out, was biased and often false.

I came away from the book (a 635 page odyssey) with a sense of remorse that in a civilized world that the subjugation of a people would be tolerated as it was for over a century. I was humbled by the patience and longsuffering of the African people under the iron fist of the National Party. Through it all, Mr. Mandela fought for the rights of people under the rule of law, even in prison. When he became president, he fought for the rights of his former oppressors against the popular mood that they should be punished.

Some books changes the reader. Old paradigms sometimes melt like an icicle on an eave, and sometimes they shatter as it turns loose and hits the sidewalk. This book did a little of both for me. The abuse of one people by another for economic, political or prejudicial reasons will be a force in our world as long as there are people, I suppose. Our people are just as guilty of the same offenses over the years. That does not make it right. "The Long Walk to Freedom" has helped me to view these situations differently. (Madiba is a term of respect for Nelson Mandela attributed to his tribal royal lineage)

What happens in Vegas Part II: Ears to Hear

Ginger and I had a couple of hours before our rendezvous with the Cirque so we decided to stroll over to Caesars Palace and see the 50,000 gallon salt water aquarium. We got there at feeding time as the diver hand fed the stingray. Very cool.

As we were leaving a very cheesy display ala Disney animated characters spouting atlantis mythology, we noticed that the three men in front of us wore kilts. This did not strike us as that unusual. Upon closer examination, I saw that one of them carried a bagpipe.

I walked up to him and asked, "Will you be piping tonight?"

His reply, "I'll pipe any time for anyone!"

I responded, "How about now?"

"You don't think they will chuck me out, do you?" he asked.

"Of course not!", was my confident rejoinder.

Then in the middle of the Forum Shops at Caesars Palace, Grace appeared.





I ran into him later and learned that his name is Andrew and is from Edinborough. He was in town for a rugby match. I can't remember having more fun walking through a mall in my entire life.

What happens in Vegas Part I: Eyes to see

Sometimes the shortest distance between two points is not a straight line. Sandwiched between a business meeting in Orange County and time in our AZ winter home, we found ourselves with a few days to spend. As much as we love New Hampshire, we decided that going back for four days to more snow was not our first choice. Ergo, a few days in Las Vegas seemed just the ticket.

This is my first visit and my impression is that it is like a Disneyland for adults--thousands of people walking around looking for something that will make them happy. I am not a gambler. Ever since I lost my weekly grocery money in a card game back in college I have had a subconscious fear of hanging around in a cafeteria bumming food.

Our chosen form of entertainment tends toward shows and people watching. Vegas is an excellent venue for both. We were searching for people who looked happy. There could have been a lot of happy people there but it was difficult to tell by their faces. Our observation was that there were more Japanese happy people than Caucasian happy people during our time there. Especially the Japanese people for whom we snapped pictures in front of the fountains. We sat next two four Japanese girls at a buffet where we had lunch. They would retrieve food, take pictures of the food, then taste it. At one point they had a dozen desserts in the center of the table to photograph them, then they each sampled every dessert. They were having a lot of fun. So were we. (that would be six happy people)

Money is the dominant force in Vegas. People want it, spend it, lose it, make it. I read that the backbone of the gaming economy is the slot machine. Most slot machines cost 1 to 25 cents per play. On the backs of the 1-25 cent decisions spectacular temples rise out of the desert as a testimony to people's regard for and desire for money.

I have long believed that money is an amplifier. It makes a person more of what they already are. For instance, if a person is generous, more money will make them more generous. If a person is a greedy, they will become more greedy. Which brings me to my story today. Ginger and I were filling the time between our lunch and the 7:30 presentation of Cirque de Soliel's "O". We went outside and stationed ourselves front and center in front of the Bellagio. Every hour on the hour, the fountain erupts into an aquatic dance of light and droplets orchestrated by who knows how much hydraulic horsepower under the surface of the man made pond. As the street was filled with beautiful music, I was mesmerized by the creativity and the magnitude of the palette on which the artist displayed their vision. A Sample:




I was overwhelmed with the beauty and creativity on display. It would be easy to say that this multi-million dollar extravaganza is a waste of money. I prefer to say that this money has amplified the creativity of talented people to extract beauty from pumps and water, light and music. It was a moment to appreciate the seeds of the Creator sprouting in the middle of the desert.

Visions of Things to Come

This past weekend we enjoyed a visit with our son and helped with an early start of the celebration of Reese's fourth birthday. Watching our childrens' children is a favorite activity. Sometimes you can get to see characteristics in them that you recognize in their parents and others that are uniquely theirs.

On returning from lunch, there was the odor of an overheated electrical motor in the kitchen. The adults set about sniffing and searching for the culprit. Reese, however, immediately went to the playroom and donned her fireman's helmet. She didn't say much, just stood in the kitchen with a concerned look on her face while we sorted out the source of the problem. In her mind there was obviously only one thing to do when you smell smoke! She was calm and collected, and obviously prepared. I am sure there are very few emergencies that a 4 year old with a fireman's hat and a "Hello Kitty" tee shirt cannot handle.

As Adam evaluated the situation he decided that the smell was coming from the refrigerator. He removed some plates and cleaned out around the coils. Obviously this is too big a job for one man. Hudson was more than willing to assist. You can see in the picture to the left that the project goes much smoother with a capable supervisor on location. It is important that inexperienced repairmen have the proper tools with which to work. Hudson was able to select the right implement and instruct the laborer on its proper use.



It is comforting to know that my son and daughter-in-law are in such good hands. I can rest well knowing that the fireman and repairman are on call.

Favorites

I wrote an essay one time entitled, what "I Have Learned about God from my Granddaughter". It seems that the lesson continues, but the title needs to be changed to, "What I Have Learned about God from My Grandchildren."

When Reese was my only grandchild, I always told her she was my favorite. Hudson came along and I decided that he is my favorite too. And then Gwendolyn arrived and there is no doubt that she is my favorite. I have learned that I can have as many favorites as my kids decide to have grandchildren.

I have always told Sara that she is my favorite daughter. She grouses, "I am your only daughter!". To which I reply, "So what?" I also have two favorite sons.

In the book The Shack the character that represents God speaks of people who are not quite the picture of righteous living by saying "I am particularly fond of that boy!" That story helped me to understand that God has just over six billion favorites. Each of us is the absolute apple of his eye.

I am not putting myself on the same level as Him, but I learned that if He can have that many favorites then I can handle quite a few myself. I have lots of favorite nieces and nephews, favorite coworkers, and one very favorite wife.

Try it. When you look at your son, daughter, husband, wife,_______(fill in the blank) say to yourself, or tell them, this one is my favorite. It can only do good.

Rescued

I don't know how it works. Sometimes you just get a hunch--a feeling that something is not right and you need to stop. Where does that come from? Is it a subliminal mental activity? Is it a spiritual interaction? I don't know.

Last week I was doing my job. My team and I had been working on a very complex project and had received instructions on how to make the transactions. We finally got all the pieces lined up and I authorized my operations manager to proceed. As soon as she walked out of my office, I had a start. I was uncomfortable with the instruction. I called another advisor working on the project with us and asked for clarification on the tax impact of the transaction. I discovered that if we proceeded it would result in just under a hundred thousand dollars in taxes that we were trying to avoid.

I walked into the other room and had the transaction stopped. All of this took place in the space of about 30 minutes. We had been working on the project for weeks. Why then? Why did I think of the possible issue then?

My client told me I must have a little angel watching over me. I replied, "In my work, I need several really big angels to keep us out of trouble."

Winners and Winners.

One of my favorite things to do is to play games with my family. This week we were blessed to have Sara, Emrys and Gwendolyn with us to enjoy the holidays. We played cards, we played liars dice, and we played board games. I lost every game. I am not complaining, not whining although I was falsely accused of such. I told the kids when they left that they know where they can come to win games. I am the winner as long as they keep coming.

I remember when Sara and my Dad would team up to play cards they seemed to be unbeatable. When we played cards with Mom and Dad, Dad would annoy my mother by counting out the cards she dealt to him, deliberately and methodically--one at a time--and she would let him know of her displeasure.

I remember the time when cousin Vicki was losing badly at a board game. She took the board and flipped it over ending the game--a move known in the annals of our family as "Pulling a Vicki". (Vicki to this day denies the incident in spite of numerous eye witnesses.)

I remember watching TV while playing Skip-Bo with my sister and the crew. I would be focused on a football game and would only look back to the game when my turn came. Sis would whine profusely when I would win without paying attention--much to my delight.

When I was a boy, I remember my father and his brothers sitting around the dinette set in Uncle Ed's house playing dominos, smoking cigarettes, talking and laughing, the cloud of tobacco smoke forming a haze near the ceiling of the kitchen. It was a different time.

My brother and I and our friends would go to the fire station late at night with our friends and play dominoes until time to go home. The night life in Fort Cobb, Oklahoma was spectacular.

When family and friends gather around a table to eat, to play there are only winners.