Story Time

This all happened 35-40 years ago, and most of it is second or third hand, and kids don't always understand what's going on in the adult world. So I don't claim that what I remember is exactly what happened. However, my perceptions of it made a big difference in how I see the world and the people in it, and that's what really matters.

I was probably four years old (which would make it 1972 or so) when my parents invited a man to come over for dinner at our home in Pittsburgh. I remember that he was big (a lot bigger than my dad, who was roughly average-size) and black and rather intimidating to a little kid. Based But he was friendly and after a bit I got used to him, and decided he was okay after all. Pretty typical kid reaction to a stranger in the house. I don't think I ever saw him again.

About a year later, we had moved to Connecticut, bought a house in the suburbs and survived the great ice storm of '73. One day my mom said dad was going to be out of town for a few days, which wasn't that unusual an occurrence, since he traveled a lot on business. She asked if I remembered that man who had come over for dinner, and I did. Well, apparently he was having some trouble with something, and dad was helping him out. Okay.

I don't remember when it came up exactly, or why, but at some point mom filled me in on the story. I was older, but still a kid. Maybe about ten or so. Apparently, dad had spent some time going to prisons and counseling inmates as part of a church outreach program. Now, dad's religious beliefs have careened from atheist to born-again christian and back again over the course of his adult life, with stops along the way for Lutheranism, Catholicism, Judaism, and Anglicanism. Probably some other stuff in there too. I'm not sure where exactly he was in this colorful journey when he was visiting prisons, but I think in the early 70s it would have been more about social justice and less about saving eternal souls. Anyway, that's where he met this man, and he had just gotten out when my parents had him over for dinner. The trouble he was having a couple years later was about as serious as it gets - he'd been charged with murder. My dad had taken time off from work, traveled to another state, and testified as a character witness. Apparently having Dr. T. A. Cruse, PhD, a white upper-middle class engineer speaking on behalf of a poor ex-con black man impressed the hell out of the jury, and he was found not guilty.

Demographically, I'm about as privileged as it gets in this country. White, male, educated, intelligent, heterosexual, two parents who loved me and each other, the list goes on and on. But I learned a valuable lesson, watching my dad as I grew up. Having been dealt all the goods cards doesn't make you better than other people, it just means you were luckier. And sometimes, to be a man means doing right by other people - even if you have to step out of your comfort zone and stick your neck out a bit. I've been thinking about this story a lot this past week, with the BlizzCon kerfluffle. In addition to raising my voice on my blog I took a few steps I don't usually take to try to influence the president of a multi-billion dollar company. I have no idea if anything I did had the slightest impact on how it all ultimately played out, but it never occurred to me not to try. I was not targeted by that hateful video in any way, and I could easily have done nothing. But I know I did right by my fellow gamers, and I sleep pretty good at night knowing I did. Would I still have done it, had I not seen dad's examples - this story and a number of other times, big and small that dad did the right thing. I don't know. Quite possibly not. So thank you dad, for showing me how to be a grown-up, even when it's not convenient.

Too Old To Rock& Roll, Too Young To Die

Julie (singing): I.... want to rock and roll all night!
Me (quasi-singing): And part of every day!
Julie: Um, you know, the line is supposed to be "and party every day"
Me: Yeah, well, I'm too old to do it full-time anymore, if I want to rock and roll all night. So I'm just going part-time.
Julie: Michael, you were born too old to party every day.

What Are You Thinking About?

Next time someone asks me that, I'm just going to point them to this comic. Because, yeah, that's pretty much what's going on in my brain at any given moment...

Does You Need Me To Kill You Dead?

Does you need me to kill you dead?
Why would I need that?
I dunno. I just asking.
Well, that was thoughtful of you.
Yah, I'm a nice person.

Does you need me to kill you dead?
No! Of course not!
Yes you do. Why you lie to me?

Does you need me to kill you dead?
I don't think so. Why would I?
Why wouldn't you?
Well, if you did, I wouldn't be happy.
How would you know? You'd be dead.
Okay, I guess that's hard to argue with.

Does you need me to kill you dead?
If you did, who would give you rubs?
Well, yes, that would be a problem. But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make for the greater good.
That's very noble of you.
Yah, I know. It's my nature.

(Just a few conversations we've had over the past few days. I'm guessing not too many people have conversations that would sound this terrible if taken out of context.)

Time For A Darth Vader Pic

'Cause, well, it's been a while. I have no other explanation.

Stolen from here.