Just Thinking...

Here are some topics I've been pondering lately:

Why isn't more money being spent on alternative fuel research and development?

Why did it have to take a former Republican to stand up on the Democrats' behalf?

If the terrorists want to destroy our way of life and we decide to change our way of life to combat them, haven't they already won?

Is it me or are the best two pundits on television on Comedy Central?

Is January 20, 2009, too late?

With all these marquis names running for office (Obama, Clinton, McCain, Giuliani), is there any chance that a "B" level candidate can come out of nowhere and sweep the nation, as what happened in 1992?

Is there any American more hateful than Ann Coulter?

Why do people care about celebrity lives?

If stem cell research equates to murder, what is war?

Do you think we'd have to live in a world where terrorists were out to destroy us and whole nations despised us if our government had just behaved itself?

At the end of the day, isn't it true that the only people in your life you can trust are members of your family, and maybe a select few group of friends?

Video Game Violence

We've all heard, watched or read about the ill effects that violent video games have on our youth. Supposedly, they desensitize children's inhibitions regarding violence, as well as provide lessons on how to commit violent acts. Psychologists have even pointed to this lesson or that as some sort of proof.

I'm going to ask a simple question here: if video games cause violent behavior in children, then why is violent crime lower now than in the days before video games?

Something is inconsistent here. The Grand Theft Auto Series, The Godfather game, and others are best-selling games that contain graphic violence. I owned Grand Theft Auto III (since traded it in) and currently own The Godfather. I've played both and I know how violent they are. My son never saw Grand Theft Auto, but I did show him bits of The Godfather. He also plays Street Fighter and Marvel Ultimate Alliance -- two equally violent games that are a bit less graphic -- no blood.

And what has this done to Jonathan? Nothing. Except that he can speak with his friends about games that they play.

Jonathan lives in a world where crime is as low as it was in the early sixties. He has no knowledge of the very real dangers that was life in the seventies and eighties. Among all of his friends, there have been maybe seven or eight instances where some sort of fight ever broke out. By the time I was Jonathan's age, I think I alone had seven or eight fights with my best friend and my cousin. I witnessed more violence in Kintergarten than Jonathan did his whole life.

My point is, if these games are so harmful, and millions of kids are playing them, why is the United States safer now than they were in the seventies and early eighties before these games were invented.

Personally, I see attacks on video games as really no different than attacks on music back in the late eighties. The PMRC, Tipper Gore's baby, launched an assault on sexually and violently explicit lyrics in popular music. Targets ranged from Twisted Sister to Ozzy Osbourne to Sheena Easton. Yet even most of us "lost souls" of Generation X managed to survive the evils of popular music and become productive members of society.

I bet our kids won't be too damaged by PlayStation.

All In The Family

Last night we celebrated a first in our family. Claudia joined Jonathan and I as a martial artist. I can now say I am the proud husband of a Tae Kwon Do student.

My wife is one of the most courageous and heroic people I know. She, as I have mentioned before, has answered the call as a teacher. She spent several years teaching in the Bronx, both as a classroom teacher and as an ESL teacher. She now teaches in our adopted hometown in Connecticut.

I've seen her handle so many situations with fortitude and grace. There are times when she shows courage even when I am afraid. She is one of those rare people who are as strong as they are gentle.

So it was with a bit of wonder last night that I witnessed, for the first time, my wife blushing. She was uncomfortable, seemingly unsure of herself.

This is the power of martial arts. In your first class, everything is so large, so unattainable. Claudia is a former athlete, yet the new moves she was learning were like words of a language she'd never before heard (which in itself would be hard to find -- she speaks English, German, Spanish and can understand Greek). She struggled and was self-conscious.

It'd been a long time since my first class in the martial arts -- 1980 to be exact. I was just as unsure, just as self-conscious, just as overwhelmed.

However, I was nine. My son, who is now within a year and a half from his black belt, was even younger. To begin as an adult takes even more courage. I am so proud of her. So is our son.

Knowing my wife, she will use the feelings of her first class to her advantage. She will continue, and with each class she will gain a little more confidence in her abilities. In a short time, she will shine as a star in our school. She will see it to its completion, and I look forward to watching as the masters some day place a black belt around her waist, as they soon will my son's.

We are now a family of martial artists.

Thank you , Claudia, for joining us.

The Man

He's exactly the person Democrats had hoped John Kerry would have been back in 2004. He is a strong voice in opposition to the President and his administration. He has the history and experience to back up his view. He has just enough personal family involvement in the situation in Iraq that he becomes endearing to every mother and father whose child is or may one day be asked to go to war. And, most importantly, he is confident enough in his own convictions to stand tall against the cowboy president that Democrats have cowered from since 2001.

Yes, Senator Jim Webb of Virginia is that man.

It is no wonder that the Democrats chose him to respond to George W. Bush last night. Just looking at the tale of the tape between the two men and you quickly realize Bush is not anywhere near Webb's caliber.

• While both of their fathers fought bravely in World War II, only Webb went to Vietnam as a Marine where he earned the Navy Cross, the Silver Star, two Bronze Stars and two Purple Hearts. Bush got a pass and went to the Texas Air National Guard.
• Bush went to Yale University as a legacy, a son of an alum. Webb graduated from the Naval Academy in Annapolis.
• Webb wrote his first book while attending Georgetown University Law School. At around the same time Bush was having stubstance abuse issues, having once been arrested for DUI and had his driver's license suspended, before getting an MBA from Harvard.
• Webb served as Secretary of the Navy under Ronald Reagan. Bush made money in oil and briefly owned the Texas Rangers (and subsequently traded Sammy Sosa to the Chicago White Sox).
• As a father, Webb's son is serving honorably as a Marine in Iraq. Bush's daughters have had run-ins with the law for alcohol-related charges, and have been frequently photographed for tabloids.

As expected, Senator Webb gave a coherent and assertive response to George W. Bush's State of the Union address. For a transcript, please read here.

Senator Webb is the real thing.

The State of the President

George W. Bush began his State of the Union address last night in one of the most difficult situations any president has had to address the Congress and the Nation. That he brought it on himself is irrelevant to the point that I don't think any one of us envied his role last night.

A funny thing has happened over the course of Bush's presidency. I realized this last night. On September 11, 2001, and the initial weeks that followed, I thought he was a terrific president. I believed he was the right man for the job. He spoke and seemed tough in the face of the enemy. He showed resolve. He looked like the one president Osama and company should never have crossed.

By the time we invaded Iraq, I believed he was still a strong president. However, he was a bit of a cowboy. His toughness was getting in the way of good strategic thinking. And while I believed at the time that there was a threat in Iraq (hey, I'll admit when I was wrong), I secretly worried that we were going to lose friends.

By the time the invasion ended and we had found Saddam Hussein but no WMD's, George Bush looked still more different. People began to question the purpose of the war by this time. And the cowboy in him turned against those who shared a different viewpoint from him. Unfortunately, there were no Jim Webb's in the Senate at the time. The Democrats were cowering. Bush was beginning to look like a bully.

In November, Bush looked like the same bully, only he had just taken a wallop from the smaller kid he'd been picking on for years. He seemed more conciliatory, more accepting of alternate views.

All of this brings me to last night.

I will consider the issues in a future rant, but I want to mention that I realized last night that all this time it wasn't the President who had changed, it was me. Bush was, is, and seemingly always will be the same person that he is today. He was that way on 9/11, and all the other moments I mentioned. I see him differently today because, after having seen, heard and learned about him over the years, I've come to finally realize who he is.

George W. Bush made what to me seemed like a final stand last night. He showed his conciliatory side in the inital few moments of his speech. He did not bully the Democrats. He couldn't, they already had defeated him. But he chose, instead, to use the latter part of his speech to bully the members of his own party. He used words like "victory" and noted that they didn't vote for the war to lose.

I believe he failed.

He continues to lose the support of his own party. He is at an all-time low. And he could not save himself last night from the one person who will ultimately destroy his legacy.

He couldn't save himself from himself.

A Necessary Evil

As any long time reader will know, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder a few years ago. Bipolar disorder, also known as manic depression, affects a person's moods. Unlike the normal highs and lows of "healthy" people, those like me experience extreme swings in moods that can range from euphoric highs to the blackest of depressions. Suicide is not uncommon among individuals suffering from BPD.

While there is no known cure for BPD, there is medical treatment that can ease the symptoms -- keep the mood swings to a normal level. I take two different kinds of medication to help me with this.

Buproprion is the medication I take as an anti-depressant. This medicine keeps the bottom from falling out. I credit buproprion for helping me climb out of the blackness I was in a couple of years ago. Side effects include increased risk of seizure, insomnia, potential liver and pancreatic issues.

Valproic acid is an anti-convulsant that also acts as a mood stabilizer. This serves to keep my mood swings at a normal level. Side effects include weight gain (trust me, it's true), fatigue, dizziness and potentially impaired liver function.

For about twenty years, I unknowingly controlled my BPD through self-medication. Nicotine can act as a mood stabilizer. I was doing far more harm than good, of course. Shortly after I had quit smoking, the bottom fell out. Now I take medications that help me remain an emotionally stable human being. However, instead of risking lung cancer or emphysema I am risking liver disease, among other things.

I have a dream that someday I will hold my great grandson or great grand daughter. There is a very real chance that, because of my meds, that dream will not happen.

Someone recently asked me if they should take medication. She feels she needs help coping with the stress in her life. I told her to be very careful.

If there is a better way, find it.

It's an uncomfortable feeling knowing that what is saving my life may also be killing me.

Hitting Back

A friend called me this morning to get my assessment on a situation that had happened at his boy's school bus stop. His son, a friend of my boy's, is basically a gentle kid who, like my son, studies Tae Kwon Do. In fact, they train -- and often spar -- together.

A neighborhood boy has taken a liking to pushing my friend's son. Jonathan's friend -- let's call him Jason -- has always just taken it. This morning was different. The neighborhood boy, bigger and stronger than Jason, pushed him a little harder this mornign at the bus stop. It knocked Jason's book bag right off him. Jason didn't take it this time. He immediately went into his fighting stance and proceeded to give his bully a beating.

I believe my friend had called for assurance for how he felt. This is more or less what I told him:

Jason did the right thing.

It is hardly ever a good idea to use your martial arts training to hurt another person. That goes against what students are taught. However, there are moments when it is necessary to fight. And when you are younger than a teenager, standing up to a bully is about as best a time as any to do this.

The outcome is threefold in this particular situation:

On the street where they live, there is bound to be tensions between the two families. It's only natural. It also is likely that it will fade with time. No one got really hurt. The only thing that happened was the bully received an injured pride -- and a great lesson.

Jason also learned a valuable lesson. He learned that he doesn't need to take the abuse a bully can give. He learned to stand up for himself. He learned that, if necessary, he can defend himself. What a boost of confidence!

The trifecta is that he may not have to defend himself again -- at least not with school bullies. The kid he just fought certainly won't do it again. And neither will anyone else. Word of incidents like this spreads in schools as quickly as colds and coughs. Any other students thinking about pushing around a little boy will thinking twice before pushing Jason.

I must point out that I do not condone violence. Violence is almost always unnecessary. In adults, it is abhorrant behavior. In teens it is terrifyingly tragic all to often. And it is not behavior we should encourage in children either.

That said, Jason's stand this morning -- if discussed properly with him -- can go a long way to shaping his self-esteem in the future.

And for that I am proud of him.

Art Buchwald

As a blogger, I often tease myself into thinking that my work here has great impact. Or at least that someday it can. We live in an era when the world of communication is changing. Newspapers, once the most powerful form of communication, are dying and rapidly being replaced by alternate forms. One such medium of communication is the internet, more specifically, the weblog.

Bloggers are not unlike the columnists of the newspaper era. Sure, we only answer to ourselves and we are able to set our own deadlines -- and write about more or less anything we wish -- but the concept is the same. We are using a popular form of communication to express our own thoughts, our own ideas, on a particular subject.

Art Buchwald was a columnist for the Washington Post. Fellow bloggers should know who he was -- he remains one of the standards for how to express yourself in the written language. He is a forefather of sorts of whatever it is we do.

Known as the "Wit of Washington", he spent the better part of his career satirizing the Washington Establishment. His talent, and his weapon, was humor. And he did it as well, if not better, than anyone else.

Art Buchwald died yesterday at 81 years of age.

A Bad Feeling

At around seven-thirty this morning I was on my normal train headed to Grand Central Terminal. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Rarely is anything out of the ordinary on a commuter train. They're either late or on time, that's about the extent of it.

Today was different.

A woman in her mid-thirties, seated just a few rows from me, passed out and fell to the floor. She was out cold for a few minutes, during which the train conductors called out on the speaker for anyone with medical training to come to our car.

Sure enough, there was a doctor on the train and he quickly took over the scene. The woman came to, and was taken off the train by a pair of police officers once we reached 125th Street. Everything was over as soon as it had begun, and again the ride was nothing out of the ordinary.

Except for this feeling I had inside of me. It was a terrible feeling, one I have felt before and one I hate to feel more than others.

It was the feeling of helplessness.

Knowing that something was wrong and not being able to do anything about it is rough for me. There was nothing I could have done, and I was just a few feet from her. I despise that feeling.

Of course, I've felt helpless before. The most obvious moment was 9/11 when, just seven blocks away, there was nothing I could have done. There was my period of blackness, when nothing I did could shake me from my depression. But there are also several other moments in my life, moments like this one on the morning train, where if I had the knowledge to do something I would have been able to act.

I recognize that there will always be moments of helplessness in my life. But I have also decided that I can do something about the moments like this morning, moments where I could have helped if I had the knowledge to help.

I have recently discussed the possibility of taking the EMT course. While I do not wish to become an EMT, I would like the training. I would like to know how to help people in need.

Because you never know when something out of the ordinary happens. And it is better to know what to do so you can help.

Setting Priorities

The first true criticism -- at least the first one that isn't laden with political bias -- of the changing of the Congressional guard has come from an unlikely source. I read this article on CNN.com yesterday, written by none other than Lance Armstrong.

Actually, it wasn't so much a criticism of the new Congress as it was a declaration of priorities.

We have spent more than $357 billion on the war in Iraq and while our troops over there certainly deserve the support, I question why we have never spent nearly as much on finding a cure for cancer.

Two of my friends have had young children diagnosed with leukemia. Cancer took family members and friends' family members at a young age. And only three days ago I discovered that a friend from the neighborhood where I grew up, has an advanced stage of leukemia.

My friends are not alone. 1.3 million Americans are diagnosed with some form of cancer each year.

Yet in the last year our government -- obviously strapped for cash to support their war fix -- had cut funding on cancer research.

I know that we as Americans do a tremendous amount of fund-raising for cancer research. The charity events, the LiveStrong bands, and other ways we support the cause is laudable. But why isn't our government making it the priority it should be?

We are a nation -- a country with borders and citizens. What happens outside our borders is less important than what happens inside of it. And cancer affects the home.

Let's remind our delegates in Congress and the Senate what should be a priority.

Turning Tables

It's amazing what 400 years can do to a family.

Last night there was a show about Galileo Galilei on the History Channel. I was excited to watch it because the story of Galileo is linked to my family.

In case you aren't aware, Galileo is considered by many to be the father of modern sciences. He was a true man of his age, an age of Renaissance and of Reformation. It was an age when people dared to question authority, when people challenged convention wisdom in favor of new (and often correct) ideas.

As with all eras of such radical change, it was an age of fear and violence. The establishment, in this case the Roman Church, used whatever means necessary to maintain the status quo. This included false accusations, torture, and death.

It was a single theory of Galileo's -- rather his support for the theory of mathematician and astronomer Nicolaus Copernicus -- that gave the opportunity for my family to be forever linked with this crucial point in scientific history. It was the theory of heliocentrism.

Heliocentrism is the idea that the sun is the center of the solar system. This went against the false theory of geocentrism -- that the earth was the center of the universe. The Bible, and therefore the Church, was geocentrist. Galileo's theory posed a considerable threat to the Church at this time.

Enter Cardinal Robert Bellarmine. Cardinal Bellarmine was at the time one of the Church's most gifted scholars. He questioned Galileo's theories and stated that, since it was merely theory and not fact, it could not be stated as such. Cardinal Bellarmine expressed to Galileo that such questioning of the Bible and of Church teachings would pose a considerable threat to the Church and its myriad other beliefs.

Cardinal Bellarmine was later asked by the Inquisition to warn Galileo not to teach heliocentrism or be subject to trials of heresy. Such trials at the time led to being burned at the stake.

One thing Cardinal Bellarmine stated was, in fact true. Galileo, along with the Protestant Reformation, did have a profound effect on how Western Civilization viewed what had been conventional wisdom and often Church doctrine for centuries.

Now here's the kicker. Cardinal Robert Bellarmine -- later Saint Robert Bellarmine -- is an ancestor of mine. He the nephew of Pope Marcellus II (Marcelo Cervini). The Cervini family continued its lineage, and eventually a Francesca Cervini married a Pietro Calamari in northern Italy. They had several children, one of which -- Delena -- was my great grandmother.

While the Church has not evolved much over the centuries (although they have done away with sanctioned torture and burning at the stake), I'd certainly say that my family has. The family who produced a pope and the man who warned Galileo not to question the teachings of the Church produced, centuries later, someone who spends a little time each day seeking the truth, regardless of contemporary wisdom.

The Sports Pedestal

The sports industry is such a beast. There are the games themselves. There are the televised and radio broadcasting of those games. Then there are the advertisements attached to the broadcasting. Each top athlete seems also to have his or her own agent, brand of a product (cologne, sneakers, sports drink), charity of choice, and bobblehead doll. Teams are allowed x number of players, but employee in the thousands in marketing and sales and general management.

Then there is sports journalism. Each radio market has at least one AM station devoted to sports talk radio. There are so many sports websites it would be futile to count. Each newspaper and network devotes sections and times to sports. Then there are the GM and Ford of sports journalism: ESPN and Sports Illustrated.

And what happens? We as a society place these athletes onto a pedestal. They are sometimes given carte blanche to do what they wish and to say and act as children. And we allow it.

Sometimes, we encourage it.

Take tomorrow's announcement for example. Tomorrow the 2007 class of the Baseball Hall of Fame will be announced. Likely only two candidates will make it (Cal Ripken, Jr. and Tony Gwynn). What we will also see, however, is how many writers have voted for Mark McGwire.

Yes, that Mark McGwire. The excuses to vote for him are already written. Two ESPN writers, Jim Caple and Bill Simmons, have stated their cases here. I've narrowed the excuses to vote for McGwire -- and other steroid users -- down to three.

1) He played in the steroid era when other players did it. In that context, look at how he performed. In the case of McGwire, 583 home runs, including the first player to 70 in 1998, a Rookie-of-the-Year award, a gold glove, 4 HR titles, 1 RBI title and that awesome summer in 1998.

2) He was never found guilty of anything. Unlike Rafael Palmeiro, who was caught, McGwire never admitted to nor tested positive for anything. In a society where our courts say innocent until proven guilty, he should be treated as such.

3) Other individuals already in the Hall of Fame had done as bad, if not worse, to baseball. Ty Cobb, for instance, was racist, extremely violent and was once suspended for throwing a ballgame. Gaylord Perry admittedly threw illegal pitches. If they are in Cooperstown, McGwire belongs as well.

Now, here are my answers to these excuses:

1) Mark McGwire, by taking steroids, cheated. He gave himself and unfair -- and illegal -- edge that not only puts a damper on that marvelous season (McGwire, by the way, was not the only story of that year. I recall Sammy Sosa being an equal part of that HR chase. There was also that incredible Yankee team that went 125-50 with no players hitting more than 28 home runs.) but also puts a black mark on one of the game's greatest records. And in an era where, for whatever reason, balls fly out of ball parks with alarming regularity, his home run totals are not nearly as impressive, especially considering he wasn't a contact hitter or stolen base threat or anything else.

2) Mark McGwire was never put on trial for anything. This isn't judicial court here, it's the court of public opinion. And we know that what happens in court isn't necessarily what really happened (see OJ Simpson). Mark McGwire cheated. We learned this when he spoke in front of the Senate. Read this article from Tom Verducci in Sports Illustrated. Do you really believe he isn't guilty?

3) This is, to me, the most offensive of excuses. What happened in the past does not justify a decision in the present or the future. There are Hall members that aren't worthy because of their actions. For whatever reason, they were elected anyway. This was a bad decision. Justifying a vote for McGwire because of this is justifying bad decisions. Worse, it justifies bad behavior.

Sports writers have an opportunity with McGwire and others to make a statement that athlete's behavior is as important as their performance. Wherever writers may have failed before with this is irrelevant. Allowing a McGwire (or a Sosa, or a Canseco, or a Bonds) into the Hall of Fame is the same as saying that athletes are on a pedestal, that they are somehow impervious to the rules that govern the rest of us.

It's an irresponsible decision to vote for Mark McGwire.

The Second Best Lesson I Teach My Son

It should be obvious to everyone that the most important lesson we teach our children is the golden rule -- to treat others as we would like to be treated. It makes sense. While it is unfortunate how many parents fail to teach their children this, we must all strive towards that living standard, and instill it in our children.

The second best lesson I teach Jonathan is to finish what he has started.

I have said to him on several occasions, "You are an Anderson and Andersons do not quit." I've had to use it earlier in 2006 when Jonathan wasn't sure if he wanted to continue Tae Kwon Do. Needless to say, he has since not only continued with it, but has found enormous success.

What we teach our children is so crucial to their own roads to self-fulfillment that we must never forget the lessons we give them. That means that we cannot merely use our words to teach. We must use our actions.

Jonathan is learning never to quit by watching his parents. From simple actions like going to work every day to continuing -- as he does -- in Tae Kwon Do to completing projects he can see me do. Otherwise, they are empty words.

Finishing. It's so important to everything in life. It is what separates the successes from the excuses.

And it is the second most important thing I can teach him as a parent.

Why Should It Take Near-Death To Renew Life?

How many times have we heard the stories about the survivor of a near-death experience who discovers what is truly important in life? We've seen it in movies, like Regarding Henry. We read about it in real-life as well. Stories like the great Lance Armstrong, who not only beat cancer, but went on to become the face of what a cancer survivor can do, and inspired millions in the process to help his cause (I'm wearing the yellow LiveStrong band as I write).

Why? Why do life-changing events have to happen only when someone cheats death? Why must we wait?

Let's face it: most of us here in America live on the assembly line. We are the workers of a century ago who toiled in factories or in mines. Sure, our working and living conditions have significantly improved. Many of us even do well. But we are still on that line -- going in to work at some ridiculous hour in the morning and getting home after dark -- often too late to spend time with our loved ones.

Our free time -- the precious little we actually have -- is wasted on the couch in front of the television. And now, instead of watching the creative works of actors and writers and directors, we are watching the dumbing down of America through reality TV. We subscribe to magazines that gossip about unintelligent, untalented individuals who have made a name for themselves by being an heiress or by selling the tease. We complain that they shirk their responsibilities, snort cocaine and flash their body parts at every opportunity, yet we seemingly cannot get enough.

We have lost ourselves. We have lost our identity.

And what's worse, we know it and do nothing about it.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about an epiphany. I think this is a good week to discuss it, considering millions of people will be celebrating Epiphany in three days. I'll let mine out a little early.

I realized what is truly important to me. I don't just mean my family. While that is true, it's the easy -- and cowardly -- answer. Being a father and husband is the most important two things that I do. But it is only a piece of me. The rest I have filled with work, with adventure, and with a passion for such things as sport, cooking and the martial arts. Still, there is a void.

That night a couple of weeks ago, it wasn't only that I couldn't close my eyes. It was that they were finally opened.

The void in my life -- in everyone's life -- is that I must do more help others. I must use the talents I have been given to help people, to make their lives a little better. It is something we all must do.

I didn't almost die that night. Perhaps I was given the gift of this realization without having to go through the trauma that others have. I am lucky. But I have still come to this moment.

There is still much to sort out as to what exactly I am going to do. As I go through the process, I will share my thoughts here. Hopefully, it will inspire others to also do more. To help more.

Happy New Year to all. And may all your New Year wishes come true.