Music Corner World

I am sitting in DFW in the middle of Bush land where the pilot unflinchingly says "guideman" with no note of guilt in his voice, wondering at the demise of the once proud airport to the north, STL . That airport is just a thin veneer of its former self. So I'm wondering what was responsible for the tumbling of TWA and the cathedral walls? What has created the ghost-like quality of the walk down the deserted concourses of the once swarmingly ant hill-like airport?

American Airlines.

Their acquisition of the proud employee-owned airline and the subsequent gutting of its operations in St. Louis have not only rendered a monument to modern transportation (have you seen the clam-like design of Lambert Airport?) into a quaint conversation piece, but they have also taken a model of self governing capitalism and reordered it Texas-style (sound familiar?) as well. And now AA is laying off their own long-time employees.

Perhaps none of that could have been avoided, but as I walk wall-to-wall among the thousands of hub-dwellers here in Dallas, I am thinking - - couldn't some of these people be going north?

We are so afraid. Current theme? Drugs. Just take a look.

In moments of national pride we like to say that this country was founded on principles of freedom and that we have been prosecuting our ideals ever since. Ed Cone's brilliant analysis of the preamble to the constitution aside, it's my theory that what has motivated us throughout our history are not the noble ideals as articulated by Thomas Paine or Thomas Jefferson, but reactionary fears that have continually festered under the surface of our collective skin.

So, what kinds of fear-inspired pustules are there? Racism, there's a good one. Cultural paranoia, not bad. Isolationism, still in vogue with many. Fundamentalism, no comment required on that one. Elitism, I know a few for whom that's a religion. Non-elitism, ditto. The rage of political correctness on university campuses or the rage against political correctness by the radical right. And it goes on and on.

Without doing the professional research some of our colleague bloggers would do on the subject, it's still not hard to calculate where the federal government spends most of its money - the Department of Defense. Institutionalized fear defense. If you have thought of being afraid of it, they have a program to cover it. Of course, they also have a weapon to cause it.

Maybe we could change the name and make two departments: the Department of Fear and Department of Safe Harbor (although I kind of like Department of Propitiation of Fears).

Is it just us or is everybody else in the world as afraid as we are? Does everyone else have their head under a box hiding from WMDs?

I would try to find out, but I'm afraid to ask.

Eventually I work up the nerve and walk into the imaginary Department of Safe Harbor (DSH) , stand in line and tell the motherly-looking government clerk, "The WMD's and those bad Drugs are making me afraid."

"I'm so sorry, why don't you come around the corner, son and put your head on my shoulder."

I do so dutifully.

"S-h-h-h-h-h-h. Everything will be alright." She says patting my shoulder.

She's been well trained.

A Hill of Beans quotes this ironic story from CBS coming out of blue state Oregon which will make greenies turn red with anger. The idea of taxing fuel efficient cars by the mile rather than by the gallon in order to maintain state highways is so convoluted, you need a mobius strip to extricate yourself from thinking about it.

Check out Patrick Eakes' summary of BloggerCon. I was sorry to miss it.

As a realtive newbie, I'm discovering that Blogging requires a certain amount of faith that others actually are reading what you write and the virtual creation in the writer's mind of a surreal community lurking behind the words on the screen.

The BloggerCon makes everything real.

Today I received a note from friends I have not spoken to in many weeks. It was an intimate and comforting message about my father.

The love that rose up from their message surrounded me like a warm glove.

It's impossible to understand how that happens - - how people with whom your connection has been tenuous nevertheless continue to give the gift of love with unfettered grace.

I have been on the receiving end of many examples of unencumbered love since my father died. Such love is so naturally restorative I cannot deny it's purposeful place in the grieving process.

I only hope that I will learn to return the favor ten-fold.

Today Ed Cone points out that Hamilton College has canceled Churchill's speech. I, of course, got excited momentarily because I thought it was an historic lecture from a member of the staid Conservative's family lecturing on how the old gentleman saved the Western World.

But alas, Ward Churchill would probably shame his namesake with his view of the world, and rightfully so. To compare the practitioners of capitalism with the enforcers of Nazi anti-Jewish policies is not only absurd, it's criminal and strikingly similar to the arguments the Arab apologists made when justifying the 9/11 attacks.

Nevertheless, the reason we should listen to Mr. Churchill is not to give credence to his dumb (!) points of view or even to 'nobly' stand for freedom of speech (Battle Hymn of the Republic in the background); rather, we should listen to him because his craziness is the same nonsense as that which is coming from so many others in the world. Take this dispatch from Turkey on the genetic predispositions of the American psyche.

When will we realize that we have done very little to change or influence this negative image? Ever?

Perhaps our only real genetic predisposition is lack of humility.