Thanksgiving Thoughts

---

"God only knows that we can do,
No more or less than he'll allow.
Well God only knows that we mean well
And God knows that we just don't know how."

Joe Henry

---

Thursday was Thanksgiving, a holiday that has always been special to me.

I suppose that is because I actually was born on Thanksgiving. When one is born on a holiday, I guess that holiday always holds a unique significance.

(On at least one occasion, an old friend of mine who died a few months ago was asked her favorite number. She said her favorite number was 16, the number of her birth date.

(She said it is hard not to like the number of the day you were born, and I guess that's true. I never really thought of it that way before.

(Using similar logic, I guess, it's hard not to feel partial to a holiday on which one is born. And, while I have never discussed this with my brother, my guess is that he feels the same way. He was born the day after New Year's Day.)

Well, my situation is unusual, I suppose. It wasn't Thanksgiving where I was born. You see, my parents were Methodist missionaries in Africa at the time of my birth. They were always American citizens, though, and back in America, my grandparents were observing the Thanksgiving holiday, probably with their friends.

I don't know if my parents had planned to observe the holiday with their American friends (I don't even know if traditional Thanksgiving foods were available at that time in that part of the world). I don't think I was due for another two or three weeks so it's possible that they had plans, but, if they did, I disrupted them. Clearly, my mother was in the hospital that day, and I guess my father was sitting in the waiting room.

No one ever told me the story of how that day unfolded, but I think it is safe to assume that neither of my parents ate any turkey and stuffing that Thanksgiving.

In spite of the fact that I was born on Thanksgiving, I've always had mixed feelings about it. I like the concept of being grateful for what you have, but that begs the question of "Grateful to whom? Grateful to what?"

I mean, does the very act of setting aside a day to express gratitude for what you have necessarily imply faith in a higher power?

For some, I suppose the answer is "yes" — albeit an indirect confirmation. As Meister Eckhart, a theologian from the Middle Ages, said, "If the only prayer we ever said was 'Thank you,' that would be sufficient."

For such people, the very act of being thankful is an acknowledgment of faith.

But doesn't that suggest that you are being rewarded for doing the things you are expected to do? And, if that is true, then the whole God–man relationship, from early times to the present day, is founded in a kind of performance–based agreement, kind of like the incentive bonuses that some pro athletes have written into their contracts.

It's the kind of thing I can equate to my own life.

As a child, I was always eager to please my elders so I tried to do the things they wanted me to do. I took certain classes because they were recommended to me. I participated in certain activities because they were recommended to me.

I went to college and graduate school for much the same reason, I suppose. There was more to it, of course, but it definitely played a role. When I look back on it now, I wonder if I did so with certain expectations of the outcome, that each of the "right" things that I did made the ultimate payoff more secure.

I guess I'm not so different from most people, even if I was born on Thanksgiving. I'm a seeker, a questioner, a doubter, a skeptic. That may be part of the reason I gravitated to journalism.

Then, again, it was hard not to be a seeker, a questioner, a doubter, a skeptic if you grew up when I did. It always seemed like those who were in charge were lying to the rest of us — Lyndon Johnson lied about Vietnam, Richard Nixon lied about Watergate and so on.

It was hard to know who or what to believe so I turned to my elders. I put my trust in them, and they told me to trust God.

I was brought up to believe in God, to believe in Jesus, to believe the Bible. But, in my experience, most of the people who were brought up that way went through their moments of doubt and pain as well.

Some of the people I knew when I was growing up lost their faith along the way. I still want to believe the things I was told when I was young are true. But many of the things I have seen contradict that, especially lately.

This isn't a new crisis for me. It wasn't brought on by Phyllis' death. Phyllis' death merely contributed to a pre–existing condition. She always seemed to understand things I don't understand.

Phyllis never lost her faith in God, and she suffered in her last years, which came far too early. There are many things about that experience that I don't understand. What was the purpose behind it?

When I was a child, I was told there was a purpose behind everything, a reason for every life. But I struggle when I look for the purpose.

Several friends have died this year. I expect that, of course. But the last few years have been brutal — this year in particular. Before Phyllis died, two of my friends killed themselves, and others (of varying ages) died of other causes.

And I have been without full–time employment for more than two years. I am doing some part–time teaching at the local community college, and I guess I am thankful for that this Thanksgiving. But it doesn't pay much.

There is still much uncertainty, a lot more than I ever dreamed there would be back when I thought I was doing all the right things to make my future a bright one.

I'm probably not the only one who has thought that, if there is a God and he really does have a master plan, this would be a good time for him to let me in on it — or at least let me in on enough of it to know things are moving in the right direction.

Things have been a bit chaotic for me in recent years.

Thanksgiving Travel

I've been teaching a news writing class at the community college here in Dallas this fall.

It's been an interesting and challenging semester for me. I've been away from the classroom for several years, and I've been away from the newsroom for several years as well, and a lot of things have changed.

It is not my intention to recite all those differences here in some kind of "those were the days" rant. I expected things to be different. That's the nature of things. Nothing remains static.

Certainly, the relative health of the newspaper business hasn't remained static. As the economy has worsened, many newspaper subscribers have stopped subscribing in an effort to save a little money. That means that circulation numbers have dropped at most newspapers. And, as circulation has dropped, advertisers have been more reluctant to invest money in advertising that (presumably) fewer people will see.

Newspapers, in turn, are forced to take certain steps to save money because, as I have said here before, advertising revenue is the life blood of a newspaper.

It's a vicious circle.

I guess it always has been volatile, always vulnerable to economic downturns and technological shifts. Computers and the internet play roles today that my colleagues and I never could have imagined when I was on the copy desk or the last time I was in the classroom.

To say the least, it has been an educational autumn for me. But it has also reinforced my belief in certain things, one of which is that, no matter what kind of news delivery system comes along in the future, people will be needed who can exercise news judgment and apply it to that news delivery system in some way.

Not everyone can resolve technical issues. Many of the journalists I have known in my life probably couldn't balance their checkbooks, much less fix software problems. But most journalists can write, and if they know basic HTML or SEO stuff, they can apply it to their work and help prepare it for use on the internet as well as the publication for which they work.

Admittedly, HTML and SEO are mostly technical. But the skills I learned in college, polished in my work for newspapers and now hope to pass on to my students can, with modification, be put to practical use outside of newspapers. And such modification these days tends to involve adjustments that

I tell my students that the way to enhance their value as modern journalists is to be community–oriented. They should focus, I tell them, on giving their readers what they cannot get anywhere else

In hindsight, I guess, I have always felt that way, but the internet has made that even more relevant to the survival of journalism. And, in spite of its current problems, I do believe journalism will survive as long as it focuses primarily on the needs of its local readers.

I am guided in this by the knowledge that the New York Times is planning to start charging for access to its website. The Times tried this a few years ago, and it didn't work so it made its content available at no charge again. The poor economy apparently has prompted the Times to revisit that policy.

As tempted as I am to remind you of what Albert Einstein said about the definition of insanity, I will resist.

Instead, I simply want to point out that the Times' experience confirms what I believe — that newspapers (print publications of all kinds, really) were far too slow to recognize the role that computers and the internet would play in the dissemination of news.

By the time the owners of traditional newspapers realized that the internet was the wave of the future and, more importantly, there was money to be made in it, the public had grown accustomed to the idea that there were many free news sources out there.

Consumers like myself, who read the Times online, are not likely to pay for access to its content unless they live in New York and are looking for information they can't get anywhere else.

I do not live in New York, and I can find articles on just about any national or international news event on many other sites — so, when the Times starts charging for its content, I will simply stop visiting the site (unless I hear that, once again, it is making its content freely accessible).

Anyway, back to my news writing class ...

Earlier this semester, I concocted some scenarios and acted like a public information officer. In these scenarios, the students took on the roles of reporters and had to ask me questions to get important details. Then they had to write their stories based on the information they had gathered.

As the semester progressed, I wanted to combine some of the more routine tasks I often had to perform when I worked for daily newspapers with the internet environment and the work of internet research in our in–class simulations — so a few weeks ago, I cast my students in the roles of writers for a locally based internet site that emphasizes local news.

I asked them to use the internet to gather information for their articles and provide a list of their sources so I could check on them. Their first such assignment was an article that would be "posted" all week, reminding visitors to the site to adjust their clocks when daylight saving time ended the following weekend.

A couple of weeks later, I asked them to write a similar story reminding readers that the annual Great American Smokeout was coming up.

I'm a "recovering smoker," I told my students, and there were many times when I heard the Smokeout was coming up and I made a mental note that I wanted to take part in it, but, when the time came, I was busy with my life and I forgot about it — so I went ahead with my daily routine, smoking while I got ready for work, smoking while I drove to work, smoking on my breaks — and I might not have heard that it was the Smokeout until the day was half over.

By then, it was too late for anything except maybe a symbolic gesture.

People need to be reminded of these things, I told my students, and smokers need to know if there will be any efforts locally to provide them with support while they try to go 24 hours without lighting up.

I reminded them that it isn't a matter of "willpower." It goes much deeper than that. Nicotine, we have long been told, is a tougher addiction to beat than heroin.

I was pleased that they found some noteworthy support services that were being offered locally but hadn't really gotten any publicity. I regretted that what my students had written had no website on which to be posted.

Then, this week, I decided to combine something that was coming up with something that has been in the news recently — the traditionally heavy travel that usually occurs on the day before Thanksgiving and the reports of overly intimate "patdowns" conducted by security personnel at airports and intimate X–ray images that were supposed to be destroyed when no longer needed but instead have ended up on the internet.

I told my students to write about anything that might influence a local reader's decision about any aspect of travel. DFW International Airport is one of the busiest airports in the country, but none of my students uncovered any recommendations from DFW's administrators that suggested that things might be easier for travelers if they came at particular times or took any other precautions.

At the time, I really thought there might be more problems than apparently there have been today.

Some things may yet surface, but right now — at least according to the Associated Press — things have been pretty smooth at the nation's airports.

Oh, there were some rumblings about a movement among disgruntled travelers to "opt out" of invasive procedures. And, apparently, there were some people who took that approach. But they didn't make a big show of it at the airports.

Most appeared to follow the recommendations of protest organizers and simply stayed home.

Indeed, inclement weather seems to be the most urgent concern for travelers right now.

If that's the worst thing that happens to the TSA this Thanksgiving, that should be something to be thankful for.

Another Year Older

---

---

Today is Thanksgiving Day, one that has made me wistful. You see, it is also my birthday, and I guess I should be thankful for that, but I don't really know what to feel. I've been out of work for more than a year, and, just yesterday, I learned that one of my high school classmates died of a heart attack a few days ago.

Anyway, today my thoughts have been, to borrow a description from Forrest Gump, floating along on a breeze, kind of accidental–like.

I've been remembering my birthdays during my childhood. I was born on Thanksgiving (I guess that means I've come full circle), and my birthday fell on Thanksgiving a couple of times when I was growing up. And of course there were other times when it was the day before Thanksgiving or the day after Thanksgiving.

Anyway, that always influenced my birthday parties. I don't think I ever had a birthday party on my actual birthday — well, there may have been an exception or two. It's funny now when I reflect on what an ordeal it was just to get some kids together for some ice cream and birthday cake. Mom always had to consult my friends' parents to avoid any conflicts with travel plans.

I guess it was almost a way of life for her when my brother and I were children. My brother was born the day after New Year's, another holiday that involved family travel plans. In fact, today I've been thinking about the day my brother was born. I was 3 years old, and my parents and I were visiting some friends on New Year's Day. My family didn't have a television at the time, and my father was eager to watch the bowl games.

That afternoon, as we were watching the football games, my mother came into the room to tell my father that she had gone into labor. "It's time to go to the hospital," she told him.

I will never forget his reply. It is my earliest memory. "Now? In the middle of the Rose Bowl?"

If there is a comparable story from my birth, no one ever told me. But, even though I was born on the American Thanksgiving, a story about my birth would not include televised football. My parents were missionaries in Africa when I was born, and November 26 was not Thanksgiving where they were. For that matter, I don't know where the nearest TV would have been.

I remember nothing about Africa because my parents and I returned to the United States when I was still very small. My father got a job in Arkansas, and that is where I grew up.

I've been trying to remember when I met my high school classmate who died earlier this week. We went to elementary school together. Perhaps we met in first grade. I know I was in school with his cousin through third grade.

His cousin, who was our age, had leukemia, as I recall. I remember that, when we were in third grade, his attendance was sporadic because of his frequent hospitalizations, and each time he came back he seemed to be doing worse. Once, he had a seizure in the middle of a school day; another time, he was in the bathroom and became so ill an ambulance had to be summoned.

I guess someone — the teacher, perhaps, or the principal — had told the class that Billy was very sick and that it might kill him. I don't remember if anyone ever told us that. But, on the day the ambulance came to pick him up, I vividly remember wondering if we would ever see him again.

Someone had planted that seed in my brain.

Anyway, that summer, he died. My mother took me to the funeral. All the kids in my grade at school were there, and so were the teachers. Our third grade teacher, who always struck me as being very strict, was there, sobbing constantly, muttering about how courageous Billy had been.

There had been other deaths in my world prior to that, but when Billy died, it was the first time I really understood its permanence. Maybe that is because I watched it happen.

And now Johnnie is gone, too. I have a picture in my mind of Johnnie at his cousin's funeral in that long ago Arkansas summer. He was there for everyone else in the family — in hindsight, I can only marvel at the burden he took on when he was only 9 years old. I can remember filing past the open casket and gazing at Billy one last time. He was emaciated. His hair was gone. But he was dressed in a nice suit. That fact has remained with me all these years, for some reason. He was dressed in a suit he probably never wore in life. That seemed odd to me.

Strange, the things a child's mind retains.

That afternoon has defined the death experience for me. And now Johnnie is gone, too.

I don't know if there is a lesson in Johnnie's death for me at this particular time. Maybe there isn't one. Maybe it's just one of those coincidences in life.

I just don't know.

I thought age was supposed to bring wisdom. I guess I'm a little pissed off to realize it doesn't.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

---

---

Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that inevitably produces conflicting emotions. Wherever you are, you don't have to look far to find examples of people on opposite ends of the spectrum, people who are deliriously happy and people who are despondent.

I've often heard it said that, no matter how bad things are for you, there is always someone who is worse off. And that is true. But it doesn't mean your pain isn't genuine or that you aren't entitled to it.

On this Thanksgiving Eve, there may be much to be thankful for, but there still is a lot of pain in America. Those who are in charge insist on saying that, by traditional yardsticks, the recession is over — yet the unemployment rate is higher than it has been in more than a quarter of a century and many economists are saying it is likely to continue to go up in the first half of 2010. Last Thanksgiving, many Americans probably could not say that they knew anyone who was out of work. But, with more than 8 million jobs lost since the recession began, my guess is that far more are personally touched by joblessness this year.

I think I speak with a certain amount of authority when I say that most of the unemployed understand that the recession began nearly two years ago — and anyone who comprehends chronology knows that Barack Obama had not yet been elected president at that time.

Recently, I read an article in which the author said that (a) the recession was George W. Bush's fault and (b) it is too early to reach any conclusions about Obama. My response to that is (a) I don't dispute the fact that Bush was president in December 2007, but, even though I am not an economist, I am inclined to believe that a recession as severe as this one is the result of many decisions made by leaders from both parties, and (b) it may not seem fair to draw a conclusion about Obama, but that is the nature of the political calendar. Ready or not, the midterm election season is upon us and the economy is front and center.

I have been saying all year that job creation needed to be the focal point of the administration if it wanted to minimize its losses in the midterms, but Democrats preferred to blame Bush and devote their efforts to other matters. I cannot speak for everyone, of course, but recent public opinion surveys suggest to me that, however people may feel about who deserves the blame for the poor economy, a majority of Americans is running out of patience for the president to fix it. In their eyes, Obama has not done what he was elected to do, even if he thinks that calling for a "jobs summit" next month is (however belatedly) addressing the problem.

Take the stimulus package that was passed back in February. Congressional Democrats insisted, at the time, that it would create jobs almost immediately, but this week a Chicago Tribune editorial called that "a snow job."

I have to think that a newspaper that serves a city like Chicago knows something about snow. And the Tribune makes a valid point about claims of jobs that have been "created or saved" by the stimulus. Especially in places that don't exist — like the 15th House District in Arizona — except at the government's web site, Recovery.gov.

Well, when the national unemployment rate is in double digits, that's the kind of scrutiny the party in power must expect. Like it or not.

While many Obama supporters may dismiss opinions expressed in the Tribune as the rantings of a conservative paper, it is worth remembering that the Tribune endorsed Obama's candidacy last year, the first time it had endorsed a Democrat in 161 years.

And that's a verifiable number — unlike the claims of jobs that have been "created or saved" by the stimulus.

Well, whether you have been personally affected by the recession or not, have a happy Thanksgiving.

Here's hoping that, next year, there are verifiable job gains for which we can be truly thankful.