Archive for the ‘Non-Fiction Writing’ Category

Weathering the Storm

April 27, 2011


“Approaching Storm Over Deerfield Beach” © R.L. Herron

I seem to spend a lot of time lately listening to political rhetoric. Not because I want to. It permeates the airwaves every day and, like an approaching storm, is sometimes difficult to avoid.

But avoiding it is exactly what I wish I could do.

I’ve never been a particularly political animal. Oh sure, I have preferences and often wish they were better shared by others, but would rather not – in most instances – get into an argument with friends over them. It’s too easy to lose friends that way.

There are a few people who have known me to get uptight about certain issues, but only a few. I always regret letting off steam that way.

I’ve never been able to change anyone’s mind by giving them an unwanted dose of mine.

I do let my elected representatives know how I feel about issues, both when I agree with them and when I don’t. That’s only fair. To represent me, they need to know how I feel.

But friends I would rather just keep as friends.

So I try to bite my tongue over things that go against my personal opinions. There are many contrary positions and I hope I’m always open to listen to facts that will change my mind.

However, I’ve often wished it was possible to designate where my particular tax dollars are actually spent. Not in the directions any political party designates, but by my actual personal choices.

I know the first thing I would vote to continue would be programs that help the less fortunate among us. What better use of my tax dollar than to help someone in need?

I would vote to remove any elected official who is discovered telling blatant lies to further his/her own political agenda. Why would I trust someone like that to do right for my country?

I would vote to keep our troops out of harm’s way unless we are actually under attack.

It has nothing to do with politics. It’s a personal opinion. I don’t think we have a responsibility to police the world and I will never be a fan of war. Ever.

I would vote to recall any representative who tried to disallow collective bargaining.

I’ve never belonged to a union, but our history as a country is one that ultimately demands fairness and compromise. Why shouldn’t a person be able to bargain as part of a group to receive fair compensation for their work, provide for their families and have their voices heard?

I would vote to remove any representative who acted to eliminate restrictions on the dumping of pollutants into our air and water. Do you know anyone who wants the environment to be less safe for their grandchildren?

I would vote to remove any representative who would try to restrict measures put in place to make workplaces safer. Isn’t the safety of another human being something that should be paramount in our thinking?

Do we need another Triangle Shirtwaist Factory disaster to remind us of things like that?

All this sounds political, I know, but I don’t think about the politics involved. I’m not a member of any political party. I’m a humanist.

I think about my children and my grandchildren and our future generations. It has nothing to do with politics.

But that’s just me, right?

God, I certainly hope not.

 

Déjà Vu

March 3, 2011


“The Ride” © R.L. Herron

I came across this image today while looking through photos stored on my computer. It brought a smile to my face.

It shows my eldest son driving his grandfather’s tractor with his son on his lap. My grandson was so excited at the ride through a field overgrown with weeds and wildflowers.

I recalled the day I took it, and how careful I had been to use a large aperture to minimize depth of field. I wanted the foreground and background, while remaining identifiable, to be out-of-focus and incidental to the two of them.

That was captured pretty much as I intended. There’s also something else captured there, which you can’t see and I didn’t realize myself until I saw it again.

A sense of déjà vu.

We all know déjà vu is the experience of feeling certain one has already witnessed or experienced a situation. The firm sense the experience has genuinely happened in the past.

In this case, it almost did.

Thirty-four years ago, probably about the same time of year, that same tractor was going through the same spot in that same field.

Only the driver was me and the passenger was my son.

I can recall that day with utter clarity. I’m certain if I searched I could find a grainy snapshot of the two of us, taken at almost the identical spot. It’s a very emotional feeling.

It’s somehow comforting to know my son has been able to experience the same gratification I felt at sharing that moment with him. There are four generations in that photo. My father-in-law (94 now), me, my son and my grandson. All linked by that tractor and that field.

Déjà vu.

It’s a good memory I wish more people could share. Come to think of it, now they have.

 

Reflections

March 1, 2011


“Little Swimmer” © R.L. Herron

As young as they are, my grandchildren are very capable swimmers.

There is no need for intense observation and concern regarding their actions. They are very much at ease in the water. Watching them is actually relaxing and relatively stress-free.

If only life in general could be more like that.

Unfortunately, humanity is a very fickle, ill-mannered species. It often seems the whole earth is in need of a disciplinary “time-out” — but there is no cosmic planet-sitter.

Even if there were a planetary pre-school, it would likely not be capable of preventing much of the mischief homo sapiens can create.

The cries of “Mine!” — “No, mine!” echo around the planet. Sadly, we are a species well known for letting our childish behavior, tribal differences, political disagreements or ethnic arguments erupt into violence.

Yet war is such a savage way for human beings to behave. No one who has ever been involved in war — even remotely — would disagree. There are no winners in war.

Such conflict is so universally repugnant a prohibition against it is built into one of our most accepted agreements on global behavior — the United Nations charter. The only exception to war’s illegality is for self-defense.

That exception is also a damning indication of our sorry, brutal nature.

Despite our best intentions we anticipate the need to retaliate at some point, so we make a provision for it. War is such a widespread, common occurrence the idea of a period without it seems almost quaint.

I worry now for my grandchildren as I did for my sons.

I hope there is a period of “quaintness” in their future. A long one. A period without strife. Without hatred. Without violence. Without war.

A period that — like watching my grandchildren swim — does not require constant, intense vigilance to ensure their safety.

That probably makes me an old-fashioned idealist, but I don’t care. For the sake of my grandchildren I can at least hope.

I have seen war and know you need hope to foster all those quaint ideas like friendship, trust, harmony and peace. For the sake of all the grandchildren in the world I can do my part to make this a better place, and I can hope.

If enough of us do that we just might have a chance.