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BFTP: The Man In Black

Photo by Heinrich Klaffs

10 years ago this month I was taking a Rhetorical Theory class and I had to write a sample eulogy as an assignment. Since he was on my short list of personal heroes, I decided to write my assignment about Johnny Cash.

Here it is, with out any touchups or changes. The last paragraph isn't part of the eulogy, but a brief explanation I left in.

Shane Rice September 24, 2003 Thought Piece #4 A Eulogy for the Fallen

Everyone knows the life of the Man in Black. He lived his life before the masses, watched by the eye of all who would see. His ancestors came to this land long ago, from a land long forgotten, replaced with a love for their new mother. Common folk, their names have been forgotten. Coming to this country, they found themselves aliens in this new land; they went and did the work no one else would. Finally they could escape the memory of who they were and find the place for their future. Their memory is carried by their descendants, wondered at by every generation. Instruction is handed down, given to each new child, a birthright of which to be proud. A hard life only draws out the nobility in the blood of the common man. The work of their hand doesn’t callus their hearts. A neighbor in need has that need met. A stranger has a meal. Their land was their solace. For so long they had been denied the bounty of its fruit, that to be separated from their own land was a nightmare from the old world. The men were trained to get what they needed from the land. They built their homes with their own two hands. They were beholden to no one, and wouldn’t dream of holding another man down. The man before us was like these men, but different in a way. His struggle wasn’t against the land, the rising river or the shackles of a forgotten world. His demons were his own and he fought them the only way he knew how, tooth and nail. With the help of the Lord, he conquered those strongholds and resisted temptation. His legacy will be the music he made, that reminds us of harder times. Reminds us that we can beat back whatever trouble comes down our road. The Man in Black, honor his memory by remembering his life.

The style of eulogy recited by Socrates seems very foreign to the modern mind. When we mourn our dead today we focus on their individual accomplishments. The Greeks were concerned with the deeds of their ancestors. The greatness of their city-state seems to be paramount in their remembrance. The sacrifice made by those from the present added to the sacrifice of the past and credited to their children. The bloodlines of the dead ensure the standing of the living. In our culture we value individual purpose and achievement much more than we value the ties of association. In writing this, I placed value on things that the Greeks found abhorrent. No Greek would take pride in being an immigrant, but we are a nation of immigrants. To mimic their style, I had to be sure to place value on those things that we pride in America. Even more so, I felt the need to value those things I feel like the person remembered would value. As we remember, we strive to capture the life of the person making one more lasting memory.

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Saying Yes

In The Beatles Anthology documentary there was a moment where John Lennon talked about going to an art show by Yoko. They hadn't met at this point, and when John entered one room where there was a staircase in the middle of everything. He stepped up to the top of the stair case, and there was a magnifying glass hanging from the ceiling. He noticed a tiny printed word on the ceiling, and when he held up the magnifying glass it read "Yes." He then said if the word had been no, or some rude response he would have left and never meet Yoko.

If you're anything like me, you're not a huge fan of Yoko or her role in the breakup of the greatest band of the 20th century. The great thing about that story is that many years ago it made me consider the power of just saying yes.

We often forget what a difference it can make.

On Thursday I was on my way to LessConf and a call came through on my phone from an Oakland, CA number. It was Anna from LessConf wondering if I'd be willing to share my room for the weekend. Instinct kicked in and before I really realized what I was saying, I said yes. As soon as I had I worried I had made a huge mistake. 

As I drove, I pictured my new imaginary roomie as he dried his clothes over my bed or used my toothbrush to clean his fingernails. Then the rational part of my brain took over and backed my imagination away from the urge to call back and just ask for my own room. Reason said, "Hey you have a chance to make a new friend and spend more time with them than any body else at the conference. This could be really cool."

And it totally was.

My roommate was Ryan. He's awesome, and he gave a kick-ass presentation the first day of LessConf. The first night we stayed up and talked about our companies, what we did there, what technology we love today, and what is on the horizon that makes us excited. We immediately hit it off.

We parted ways this morning as fast friends, and I'm not sure we'd have the same connection if I had said no to Anna when she called.

It's true that many of us need to practice saying no. No to things that add stress to our lives, pull us away from the people we love, or are otherwise detrimental to us. But saying yes to new friends, and a chance to create stronger friendships is something we should choose to do.

Always.

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Non-Violence is the answer

A few weeks ago, Shane Claiborne answered some questions from Rachel Held Evans' readers. I've loved reading Shane's work since I picked up a copy of Irresistible Revolution in 2005, and can say it is has had a bigger impact on my life than any other non-fiction book.

One of the big questions I've wrestled with since reading that book has been about how I can integrate non-violence into my life. Many friends and family have asked hypothetical questions about how I would respond in certain situations. All of his answers were really interesting, but this passage stuck out to me:

Christians of all people should be the most suspicious of violence. We should be the whistleblowers against violence, not the drum-beaters for it! We should be the last people calling for the death penalty because we have a God who died on a cross to save us from death! So one thing we have to be careful of is finding the hardest cases for non-violence and then using them to justify violence across the board. We have an entire culture that is infected with violence—we’re talking 10,000 homicides a year in America, $20,000 a second spent on war. So maybe not all of us come out saying we’re pacifists; maybe some of us simply make more deliberate moves toward non-violence.  (For example, we have a great partnership with Hunters Against Gun Violence. These are folks who say, “we want to hunt, but we don’t want guns that can shoot a hundred rounds a minute in the streets.”)

So let’s be the champions of non-violence even when we find it difficult to know exactly what we would do in specific situations.

Are Christians suspicious of violence? Maybe we are, but I think there is  plenty of room for us to increase our willingness to shine a light on our shared humanity by refusing to repay an eye for an eye.

Shane is one of the most thoughtful voices for radical Christianity and you can find more of his writing online at Red Letter Christians.

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Everything looks crisper with a new pair of specs

About a month ago I was driving home and for some reason decided to conduct an impromptu eye test while on my way. I closed my left eye and for the noticed that the letters and numbers on every road sign were blurry until I was right on top of them.

The next day I called an optometrist and setup an appointment later that week. My roadside diagnosis was confirmed and I was given a prescription for my first set of glasses.

About a year ago I learned about Warby Parker during a conversation at a conference I attended, so I knew that I could get a nice pair of glasses there for under $100. After my appointment I sat down and picked out a pair of frames, and they added up to almost double a pair from Warby Parker. That alone convinced me to try on a few pairs from Warby Parker.

A side note, saying Warby Parker at home turned into my very own "rural juror" moment with the wife. If you're not a 30 Rock fan, here's the bit:

Before you order from Warby Parker they let you try on 5 different frames, and they cover shipping both ways. As soon as I got home from my appointment, I sat down and picked out some frames to try on. An email confirmation told me I could expect them to arrive in 5 business days.

Two business days later the frames were on my doorstep waiting for me when I got home.

After trying on each pair with my wife and kids, I picked out a pair, uploaded my prescription, and placed my order. After I placed my order, Warby Parker estimated it could take up to 10 business days for my specs to arrive. 

6 business days later my glasses arrived.

I've only been wearing these glasses for the last couple of days, but it has made a huge difference in how well I see. The other cool thing is that I would have paid around $180 for the glasses I liked at the doctor's office WITH my insurance co-pay coverage. I paid $95 for my glasses from Warby Parker and submitted my receipt to be reimbursed by my vision insurance.

I couldn't be happier with my experience with Warby Parker, and if you are looking for a new pair of glasses I would definitely recommend checking them out. They have a big selection of frames, and when you buy from them they also give a pair of prescription glasses to someone in need of them around the globe.

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I feel like I some how missed Mr. Rogers as a kid, at least the intense fanhood that many people my age seem to share, but over the last couple of days have read so many inspiring stories. This is a great collection of 35 facts about Mr. Rogers from one of my favorite magazines, Mental Floss. Hope you enjoy it.

35 Facts About Mr. Fred Rogers

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Learning, Knowledge, & The Future of Education

Sugata Mitra shared his experience educating children in rural villages and urban slums with computers at TED. In his talk he looks at the roots of our modern educational system, and shares how his ideas on education have changed through his experience "teaching" mostly illiterate kids in India. 

In case you don't have time to watch the whole thing, Sugata has set up computers for children with no instructions. In one instance he loaded the computer with lessons and information about the replication of DNA, and he put this computer in a village in India. The operating system and data were in English, and the children only spoke Tamil. The kids in this village went from scoring 0% on a test about DNA replication to 30% in a matter of months.

This all made me think of the story from a few months ago of a Ethiopian village that received OLPC tablets. It's a great story, and if you haven't you should read it.

I'm concerned we aren't preparing our kids for the reality of what the world will look like in 20 years. Knowledge is getting smaller, and the barriers to knowledge transmission are shrinking. I think that means the best education will focus on understanding what you read, and specializing in one or two subjects. It is also going to jack up the college education industry.

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Chrittymitty tree at the Grand Floridian.

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One of our garage lights was out, found this when I replaced it. #ididntstartthefire

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One more time... Thought of @zackflavalowe and middle school quotes when I saw this.

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I think this idea on capital gains tax changes is fantastic, and could go a long way to changing the short-term profit mindset that dominates finance/business now.

Clayton M. Christensen in The New York Times:

It’s as if our leaders in Washington, all highly credentialed, are standing on a beach holding their fire hoses full open, pouring more capital into an ocean of capital. We are trying to solve the wrong problem.

Such a brilliant article. Read it. Then read it again.

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Humility Instead of Tolerance

Tolerance is a four letter word.

Think about it for a minute. For some tolerance is a matter of accepting all viewpoints, regardless of their personal conviction. On Facebook or Twitter I see someone pointing out how calls for tolerance are intolerant about once a week. I'm really tired of both conversations.

Tolerance really doesn't answer the question of how we can all get along.

We need humility. It fills in the gaps tolerance misses by helping us remember that none of us have got it all figured out.

I have friends on many sides of the current election process, and it certainly seems most of those friends are convinced they are right. That's awesome! If you have thought, read, reasoned, concluded, or prayed and reached a conclusion I'm so glad you have put thought into our collective future.

Now stop being mad at other people for disagreeing with you. Be humble enough to admit that while you are convinced your point-of-view is true, there is a chance that you're wrong. If you could be wrong, it means the other person could be right.

Humility will help us respect each other, while tolerance will frustrate us when other people disagree with us. If we all practiced humility we wouldn't have to worry about tolerance. 

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Remembering Bobbie Hensley: She Wasn't Perfect, But She Was Awesome

My Grandma, Bobbie Nell Hensley (Bucklew), died on Sunday September 30th. She was awesome, and even though we didn't always agree I always knew two things: what she thought and that she loved me.

I haven't made a big announcement about this before now because I know that this will be a slow-ache, something that I'll be reminded of when I don't expect it. Little things we shared will come up and I'll spend a few minutes thinking about the time we spent together. I wrote this earlier in the week after I learned she had passed.

If you spent much time at the kitchen table with my grandma I think there's one phrase she used often that sums up how I feel: 

Well, shit.

I told my daughter that she died not too long after my dad called to tell me. After explaining she had died, I asked how that made her feel. She told me it made her sad, but that she was happy for the memories she had made with her. Like the time when Grandma let her ride her scooter around the driveway, or when she helped her ride a Barbie bike at her house.

It made me think of a couple of my favorite memories of time I spent with Grandma. Like when she took me to the movies and lit a cigarette while the "Thank you for not smoking" trailer was rolling. I pointed it out like I was the only person in the theater that noticed the message. She leaned over as she continued to light her smoke and said, "It's ok. If they don't want me to smoke they'll send an usher to tell ask me to put it out."

Or the week I spent at her house as a 13 year old. She made me lay down for nap at 12:30. Of course I didn't like that, and complained about it all morning. She told me to just lay there because the younger kids wouldn't sleep if I didn't lay down. So I had to lay on the floor and listening to all the dialogue from Bold and the Beautiful, and every time I'd move grandma would give me a good tap on the legs with a flyswatter she was keeping on her end table.

I could go on. Today as I remember Grandma, I want to remember those stories and many more that I half remember or have never known. In each memory she remains, with us until we are reunited to share them together again.

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If i haven't talked about it enough already, here's a reminder: you should be watching every Kid Prez video.

From the Kid President State of the Union. Watch here.

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The "Culture War" Is The New Cold War (& Why That Sucks)

The first time I remember watching the Olympics with any interest was in 1988 when the games were held in Seoul, South Korea. I don’t remember any of the specifics around any particular event, but I clearly remember rooting for Carl Lewis and hoping that the United States beat the USSR in the final medal count. I didn’t understand that the Olympic games had become became a cultural proxy for the Cold War or that they were analogs for communism versus capitalism. I only cared that it was “us” versus “them” and I wanted us to win.

I was reminded of this yesterday when someone posted an Instagram of an aged globe with the USSR still featured. The caption read, “I miss the good ole days.” Since the end of the Soviet Union, the only time I’ve heard a similar sentiment has coincided with the Olympics taking place. Something along the lines of, “I don’t miss the Cold War, but I miss being the underdog at the Olympics.” To se this phenomenon for yourself, just watch Team USA playing Olympic Hockey. You can’t make it through a single broadcast without a single reference to the Miracle on Ice, one of our finest moments in sports and a unique cultural touchstone we all share.

Every four years we all want to feel like we’re re-living Rocky IV.

At the end of the Cold War there was speculation on who would emerge as the next challenge to the United States on the global stage. Since then experts have told us that China or a combined Europe would present the expected challenge for worldwide preeminence, or that Radical Islam represents the greatest threat to our future.

In the last 20 years I think it’s safe to say that no one has joined us in the superpower club. During that time, however, I would argue that the “Culture War” has created an atmosphere very similar to the Cold War. I didn’t grow up during the height of that conflict, but I think there are parallels. It’s hard to define the sides of the Culture War, although most would probably draw Cultural Curtains around red or blue states. The most fervent fighters on both sides of this imaginary battle see themselves as defending everyone else from a mortal danger or protecting the future of our country. That the other side is evil, dangerous and maybe even sub-human to some people.

The Culture War is manufactured and it makes me socially tired. I spend a lot of time trying not to offend anyone, mainly because if we’re friends you matter to me and if we’re not friends I hope we can be friends. I haven’t always thought this way, and I know that I don’t always succeed. But it strikes me as a colossal waste of energy to treat fellow Americans as traitors based on how they vote in a municipal election.

With my failure and frustration in mind, here are a few thoughts on what I’m trying to embrace on a daily basis.

I want to trade spectacle and outrage for thoughtfulness and optimism. In a world where millions go hungry, without clean water, and basic education I don’t really care where you buy or don’t buy you’re fried chicken.

I won’t accept that idea that our disagreements set us against each other. Life is too short to be worried that losing every argument on policy will doom our country to failure. Our forefathers built the greatest country in the world while punching each other out on the floor of Congress. They could compromise after a fist fight and some of us lose sleep over what a creep says on a news show we don’t watch.

Speaking of compromise, it doesn’t make us weak. It’s hard to compromise when you don’t empathize with your opponents. Stop and think about why someone believes something, without irony or automatically dismissing their viewpoint.

I know I’ve just put my big toe into dangerous waters. I hope that even if you disagree that you’ll let me know what you think about all of this, and I trust you’ll be kind.

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My little toe decided to fight a chair last night. Chair totally won. #nofilter (Taken with Instagram)

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Got these at the Post Office today, best stamps I've seen in awhile. (Taken with Instagram)

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