Category Archives: COMMENTARY

Earth Day 2015 -SPECIAL EDITION.

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By Chris Warren.

Happy Earth Day 2015!

Energy/environment/ecology is a favorite topic on Twenty First Summer. While TFS finds the energy policy of both conservatives and liberals to be at best a mixed bag with something to love and hate from both sides, I do fully support the higher purpose of working towards a cleaner planet even if there is disagreement on how to get there.

Below is a compilation of my environment-themed articles going all the way back to the beginning. If you have time to read only one, please choose “Earth Day Has No Reason To Exist.” It is a personal favorite and one of my best articles. I have also noted a few runners-up.

No matter what your politics or beliefs are, remember that no one can do everything, but everyone can do something. Please make every day Earth Day by seeking changes  in your own daily life to help make our planet a cleaner, less toxic place to live.

Peace be with you!

Earth Day Should Not Have A Reason To Exist  –#1 RECOMMENDED.

Solar Energy Gives Us The Power To Feel Good.

The Linguistics Of Climate Change.  -RECOMMENDED

Getting The LED Out. 

The Climate Change Circus Comes To Town.  -RECOMMENDED

An Old Yankee Fades Away. 

When Energy Is Stolen, There Are No Victims. 

A Drought of Wisdom. 

Earth Day2

 

 

 

Graduation’s Greatest Hits?

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By Chris Warren.

In the next month or two, high school and college seniors will be graduating and moving forward with their lives. The well intended commencement speeches typically include a list of pithy if not outright condescending advice for the graduates. It’s not too late for those who have been asked to give these speeches to carefully edit themselves and avoid patronizing clichés. The list could go on for pages and pages, but here are a few of the “greatest hits” to be avoided for all time:

Do what you love and the money will follow. This is at the top of my list as the biggest heap o’graduation shit that has ever been spoken. Any activity you are passionate about but can’t support yourself with is called a hobby. There is no cosmic law that states anyone can make money doing anything if only they love doing it enough. Since life is not a one way street, those who insist on believing this ridiculous idealism must also accept with it the equally foolish converse argument: One cannot earn a living doing something they hate. I’m going to settle this nonsense with some easily quantifiable earthly reality: There are tens of millions more people toiling away at barely tolerable but reasonably well paying occupations than there are making a decent buck at their dream job. Acceptable alternative advice: If you love something that much, the money (or lack of it) won’t matter.redstone

Be yourself. I don’t get this one. How can you not “be yourself?” Taken to its ultimate conclusion, this lame pop psychology narcissism is just another excuse for every individual to think the world must form around them. But the world is full of uncomfortable circumstances where you might have to be polite when you don’t mean it, be supportive when inside you don’t agree, or be cooperative with people you think are incompetent. Those who are dishonest or fake about who they are are being themselves. Cheerfully going along with something you don’t like for diplomatic reasons or to attain a legitimate goal is not the same as willfully involving oneself in objectionable, immoral, or illegal activities. Acceptable alternative advice: Acting is an important life skill; learn to adapt your outward behavior to any situation even if it means being insincere.

Think outside the box. This tiresome business buzzword has leaked into academia and is the only point on the list that sort-of comes close to being useful wisdom. Unfortunately, it has evolved into a catch all vindication for dumb ideas and dead end personal goals. Thinking outside the box works best for older people who have learned from prior successes and failures and have enough restraint to know how far they can go. Less discerning young people are inclined to be different just for the sake of being different with no clear end game other than to clash with tradition. The “box” existed as long as it has for a reason. Some things just plain work and do not need to be challenged. Acceptable alternative advice: Thinking outside the box is fine, but only if the method used is better than what is already in the box.

By time young people reach graduation, they have spent many years exposed to a wide range of viewpoints from the internet and are far more adept at spotting a recycled idea than us older types were at their age. They are too smart to fall for dusted off hollow maxims that are accurate to a limited degree but have no mass appeal to today’s graduates and do not work for 99% of the people who try them. The opportunity to effect the lives of young people is very fleeting; commencement speakers should not waste the few minutes they have spreading unrelatable one-liners that at best are poorly chosen, and at worst full blown lies.

A Drought of Wisdom.

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By: Chris Warren.

In California they are facing a drought the likes of which make it seem like something from a science fiction movie. Governor Jerry Brown has the thoughtful wisdom to mandate everyone cut their water consumption by 25% on top of already aggressive conservation measures. Being the regulatory labyrinth that it is, California even has a state law that prohibits restaurants from serving water unless the guest specifically asks for it.

It seems lost on the governor that this epic hot mess is caused in no small part by liberal politics and rabid environmentalism that, in deference to wildlife, spent decades successfully halting plans to build aqueducts and dams. Jerry is going to dehydrate human Californians one glass of water at a time while tens of millions of gallons of perfectly drinkable water is flushed out to sea in order to protect a two inch long fish. By the way, would someone please ask the governor how much water all those illegal aliens in California’s sanctuary cities use every day?

The day is not too far off when the completely predictable results of bizarro activism and legislation come to fruition. The drought will be most acute in southern California. On full display will be the pathos of stuffing nearly ten million people into a region that gets only 15 inches (38cm) of rain per year.

Very few of those ten million people will honestly be able to say they had no idea this was coming but they will undoubtedly act surprised and demand quick action. California politics has conditioned its population to an ethic of nanny state dependence and a belief that all problems can be solved with more laws and tax dollars.

No matter how far one may be from the California drought either in geography or personal interest, what happens out there matters to all of us. The reasons are almost too many to count: Environmental policy that treats humans as an invasive species. Urban planning that squeezes tens of millions of people into an area without enough resources to support them. And if you still don’t care, here’s the biggest reason why you should: California’s artificial irrigation-intensive farming methods.

A lot of what America eats comes from California, and it’s going to be more expensive and harder to find. Billions in tax dollars have been spent on schemes to fix these problems with almost no return on the investment.

When the well finally goes dry, the price of lettuce will be very far from the concerns of Los Angeles residents. They will face the hard truth of living in a place where the water that comes from hundreds of miles away…stops. Some will leave town; most will stick around and cling to their blue-state default group think of trusting that the government will save them. Social unrest and violence will reach every corner of a city that is a rough place even on a normal day.

It’s human nature to protect oneself from a problem by pretending it doesn’t exist. The issue is compounded because once it can no longer be ignored, it’s usually too late to do anything. If you knew your water was going to be switched off, say, on some random date in the next two years or so, what would you do right now? For Californians, and pretty much every American, the answer is obvious: Go about your normal business and be confident that the government has a drought plan B.

One of the incidental benefits of writing about preparation/survival topics is that there are so many real world examples to draw from as well as the assurance that almost everyone will shake their head yes in agreement with me but take no action to prepare themselves. Drought has been an underlying reason behind many conflicts, and always happens to someone else. That is why my message is accepted in the cognitive sense and rejected in the practical sense. To put it another way, everyone likes the idea of being prepared, but only as an idea. 

So once again, the rest of us have a golden opportunity to mitigate the effects of disaster in our own lives by paying attention to others’ poor judgement and taking the lesson to heart. It may come to your world in the form of a drought, flood, terrorism, or economic collapse. When fill-in-the-blank calamity arrives at your door, there will be other people watching from a safe distance reassuring themselves that kind of stuff happens to someone else.

(Graphic courtesy businessinsider.com)

The Diverging Paths: Heroes or Hitler?

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By Chris Warren

A Twenty First Summer article from December 13, 2014 was about men who started life as ordinary citizens but when duty called they stood up to defend the United States in World War II, rightfully earning the title of “hero” and a place of high honor in history. At the other end of the scale are those who have committed ghastly war crimes and not only are they never punished, they aren’t the least bit remorseful. Two divergent paths: One ending with the pride and thanks of a grateful nation, the other ending in complete defeat of the genocidal megalomania of Adolph Hitler, a historical figure so profoundly offensive that seven decades after his death it’s still creepy to see his name in print.

Soren Kam, WW II era photo.
Soren Kam, WW II era photo.

Soren Kam could have taken his life in a different direction; now he is one of the reasons why we should keep Hitler’s name in circulation for the higher purpose of making sure the hate he preached doesn’t spread too far. Kam, who recently died at the age of 93, was a Danish citizen who joined the Nazi party during World War II. He is suspected of helping identify Danish jews so they could be deported to concentration camps, and at the time of his death remained one of the most wanted war criminals. He was also a highly decorated SS officer who murdered an anti-Nazi newspaper editor. And, like most Nazis, it’s almost a certainty that he is guilty of many other crimes that cannot be proven back to him.

A common argument floating around is that all the escaped Nazis are now in their 90’s and there is no practical reason to go after them. In a loose way, the argument holds up: A ninety-something year old man is typically not a danger to society. Spending considerable time and money to apprehend him and place him on trial just to prove a philosophical point seems like an unfruitful use of resources. The problem with this argument is it implies that justice means less the longer someone can run away from it and it tramples on the feelings of victims and their descendants. Giving evil men a pass, just forgetting about it, letting bygones be bygones –whatever trite label one wants to stick on it– benefits no one except the guilty.

What is particularly crude about Soren Kam is that he did not deny his involvement in the Nazi party and by many accounts was even proud of it right up to his death. He escaped to Germany after the war and exploited legal loopholes to avoid extradition back to Denmark. He lived a comfortable lifestyle as a free man for many decades and was never held accountable for his crimes. Knowing this adds greatly to the burden carried by the victims. There is already little solace for the aggrieved; no one should think that the passage of time makes them whole.

Decent people will wonder how someone who was involved in one of the most monstrous crimes in recorded history could so easily and openly get away with it. One of the faults of decent people is that in our hearts we so badly want to think life is fair when in our heads we know it isn’t. This conflict is never resolved. We spend more energy than we probably should being angry at the injustices we see, not because the anger isn’t warranted, but because no purpose is served by it.

The best we can get out of the barely-human filth that was Soren Kam is that it is his thought process, not ours, that is screwed up. There is a justice system not of this Earth which always makes the right call and ultimately gives everyone exactly what they deserve. Believing some version of karma will sentence people like Kam to the punishment they did not receive during their biological lifetimes doesn’t go very far to settle the hearts of the victims’ families in the here and now, but that, along with the empathy of decent people everywhere, is as close to a fair deal as they are going to get.

The Unfinished Business of Michael Franzese.

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By: Chris Warren.

The other night I was pulled in by a television biography about Michael Franzese, the son of an organized crime boss. Young Michael diverted from a promising career in medicine to work for his father in the “family business,” or cosa nostra as it is commonly called. It was a true story about a man’s life in the mafia, his repentance, and redemption. I am satisfied that Franzese’s criminal career is over; his life of redemption is an unfinished story that others should examine carefully and learn from.

Back in the 1980’s, Franzese had a conversion to Christianity and gave up his decades-long criminal career. This was quite a bit more complicated than simply cutting old ties, getting a straight job, and moving on. No one really “quits” the cosa nostra. In mafia culture, it’s a disloyalty punishable by death. It’s understandable to question Franzese’ sincerity about his new beliefs. Do these guys ever really change? That Franzese knew there was a very real chance his decision would get him killed suggests that he really meant it when he renounced the mafia and his high status in it.

Michael Franzese (photo courtesy mafiatoday.com)
Michael Franzese (photo courtesy mafiatoday.com)

Since then Michael Franzese has at least outwardly lived as an honest, law-abiding citizen, earning a legitimate paycheck as a Christian author and motivational speaker. It seems odd that a guy who made a career as a criminal now maintains a comfortable lifestyle writing books and talking about his time working in a criminal enterprise. His income, while completely legal, has a provenance in mob activity. In that regard, I guess there really is no getting away from the mob.

Michael Franzese is strange collection of conflicts: No matter how deep into sin you go, you can always repent and change your ways. Still,  given his background, it’s a stretch to take a guy like Franzese seriously. I respect him for his contrition even as I would be wary of him personally. Franzese is, after all, a convicted mobster. He’s never going to shake that, and forgiveness does not mean pretending that the wrongdoing never happened. All forgiveness means is that the aggrieved will no longer harbor anger. It is mainly for the benefit of the offended.

We who believe the Bible commands us to withhold judgement because we are all unworthy sinners find a difficult moral test in Michael Franzese: Both divine rule and human logic gives us more than enough reasons to cast him off as a wicked man; yet Christianity also says to accept a man’s remorse on the condition that going forward he obeys civil laws and lives an honorable life. The mafia is surprisingly similar to a church or religion: It’s a top-down organization that demands unequivocal devotion, has clear rules, and a penalty system for breaking the rules. Looking at it that way, it’s easy to see how Michael Franzese could easily make the jump to Christianity. Both the mafia and the Church have the same basic internal structure, but with very different end goals and means of achieving them.

As hard as it may be, I am obligated by faith to give Franzese the benefit of a doubt and show him the same respect I would give any fellow believer. It bothers me that he has probably committed crimes for which he was never punished, and the punishment he did receive for known crimes was in my opinion not harsh enough. Still, I am neither God nor the court system, so the decision of whether or not justice has been served is not mine to make. I never thought I’d be in the same “mafia” as Michael Franzese, yet here we are. There is a Power infinitely greater than any criminal organization working deals behind the scenes, transforming hearts and minds, and reminding me that I’m something of a conflict myself: No more worthy than the next guy, even when the the next guy is a wise guy.

Everyone Is Wanted At D’s House.

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By: Chris Warren.

Last week’s Twenty First Summer featured my thoughts about James, an impressive young man who has a heart and a brain and knows where he’s going. They must put something in the water in the midwestern USA. Or maybe they still teach kids about honor and respect and character. The evidence just keeps rolling in:

Today’s story of kindness that has exploded across the internet actually started a year ago: Three members of a middle school basketball team from Kenosha, Wisconsin walked off the court in the heat of the game to confront a fan of the opposing team who was heckling Desiree Andrews, one of their cheerleaders. Desiree, or D as she is called, has Down’s Syndrome. I’m not sure where the dividing line between ordinary sports event trash talking and cruel bullying is, but I am absolutely certain that mocking a Down’s Syndrome kid in front of a crowd of spectators is light years past that line.

Desiree-Andrews

The incident earned D three protective “big brothers.” She may not need them, though. Since the incident last year, she has won over the entire school in a way that indicates that the kids at Lincoln Middle School understand acceptance and inner beauty well above their grade level, so much so that they named the gym where this incident happened “D’s House,” after Desiree. It’s important to point out that this idea came from the student body, not the parents and administrators.

The cheerleading squad is a bitchy clique at most schools. Only the best looking, most popular girls make the cut, and they don’t let anyone forget what princesses they are. Is this a stereotype? Probably. But it’s not a completely unfair one. Let’s not fool ourselves: At many schools, D would not even be considered for a spot on the squad. Yet if one bothers to look past the superficiality that drives these decisions, giving her a chance makes complete sense. The real purpose of having cheerleaders is to stir up school spirit and create a positive vibe. Desiree has accomplished this goal almost singlehandedly. How on earth can anyone make an argument that she’s not a good cheerleader and role model for her school?

What is most beautiful about people like D is their authenticity. They don’t have a grasp on social conventions like the rest of us, so they are completely honest in everything they do and say. This can sometimes result in obnoxious behavior, but most of the time we get a person who is gentle and kind and childlike-innocent because that’s the way they really are. They are not capable of pretending to be anything else. People like D make terrible actors unless the part is to be themselves.

Probably without realizing it, D has forever changed many lives. The kids at Lincoln Middle School will go forward having seen for themselves the power of kindness and friendship and character. I’m going to be an optimist and say that kids today are mostly good. For every negative story about them that pops up in the media or on the internet, there are dozens of positive stories no one ever hears about. In that way, D is a cheerleader for her generation as much as she is for her team.

D’s friends both old and new learned early in life that kindness is more affirming than cruelty, befriending an outsider carries more rewards than risks, and both loyalty and dishonor will come back to you in proportion to how you gave it to others. It was not a planned lesson, but the most meaningful and lasting lessons never are. Years and years from now, as new classes of kids cycle through Lincoln Middle School, they will be told how and why “D’s House” got its name. It seems Desiree Andrews, the Down’s Syndrome kid who just wanted to be a cheerleader like all the other girls, has instead been given a permanent teaching position.

Lunch With A Teen Lottery Prize.

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By: Chris Warren

I recently had the opportunity to meet up with my buddy, James. He happened to be in my area and I don’t get to see him that often, so when the last minute invite came in, I quickly rearranged my day to make it happen. I was excited. He’s one of my most favorite people, ever.

The first thing you’ll notice about James is how outwardly unnoticeable he is. He does not call attention to himself via a ridiculous wardrobe of saggy pants with his underwear and most of his ass hanging out. He is not carpeted with tattoos and piercings, at least none visible (for the record, I don’t have a problem with tats and piercings, except when they are overdone). He does not have a wild haircut. He’s a regular jeans & t-shirt type of guy. He speaks clearly and politely, in complete sentences, without profanity. The sentences sound like they had actual, meaningful consideration put into them. Only occasionally does he slip into wishy-washy teen mumble mode. James is a high school student.smartkid1

We nibbled on the free chips & salsa while waiting for our burritos. James has been taking college and honors-level courses for a while now. He talks of his plans to study science and math when he goes to university next year. He has opinions about politics and the world. It doesn’t matter if I agree with his views or not. What matters is that he is thoughtful and has a clue. James smiled and seemed embarrassed when I complimented him on how focused and together he was. This kid is so sincerely decent, likable, and intelligent that I wonder what alignment of the planets caused him to be here in the first place.

The answer is much closer to earth than cosmic good fortune. Guys like James are carefully nurtured by parents who put heart and soul into their kids. His mom & dad demanded the best from him and would not tolerate any less than full honest effort. They knew when to carry him and when to step back and purposely allow him to struggle on his own. All males, especially the young ones, live in fear of being dressed down by another male they respect. James’ dad sets a high standard and enforces accountability to it. The kid got the hint. He did whatever it took to avoid disappointing his old man.

As much as I may discount luck, I do like to tease James’ dad and remind him that he won the “kid lottery.” Like his son, he takes compliments humbly but inside he knows how hard he worked and how deeply he loved to produce the remarkable chip-munching teen sitting in front of me. The hardest work a parent does is the work no one ever sees. I know there are lots of kids from loving homes who grew up to be bums. And I know lots of kids turn out to be stellar even though their parents, if they have any, are the bums. Some parents have a winning ticket and throw it away.

James’ biggest challenge of his short life will begin this fall when he goes off to college where his parents will not be a daily presence pushing him along. He understands hard work is expected even when no one is watching; his parents’ admonishments buzzing in the in the back of his head will  keep him on task. The little kid who used to play video games with me and randomly hug me for no reason at all is now a mentally, physically, and morally strong young adult whom I am certain will one day find a cure for some horrible disease or come up with a solution to a very big problem. He knows how much he is loved (he’s still not too cool to hug me!) and proves every day that he’s been paying attention for the last eighteen years.

Fact Checking Kindness.

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By: Chris Warren.

The internet enables the average person to access more data from their smartphone than could be stored in an entire large university research library twenty years ago. Lost in the excitement of holding all civilized wisdom in one’s hand is the reality that the internet also provides a platform for dishonesty that, when mixed with just enough actual facts and spread around far enough, will sound completely plausible.

This week’s Twenty First Summer article started out as a thoughtful introspection about Glen Buratti, a six year old autistic boy who was cruelly snubbed on his birthday by his entire kindergarten class. During the process of reading up on the story and planning my article, I noticed a familiar plot shaping up: A victimized child, a mother openly wishing she could make it right, and an internet full of complete strangers coming to the rescue. Spoiler alert: It has a happy ending.

But that’s not where I’m going with this. The familiar plot was a tipoff: These stories occasionally go the wrong way. Everyone has heard of someone running to the media or the internet with a heart-tugging tale. The tale goes viral, attracting huge levels of support and attention and money, only for it to turn out later that they lied about the whole thing. I’ve grown cynical in my internet old age. Even a cute little kid doesn’t get an automatic free pass out of me. I always turn to my old friend google to cross-check everything lest I too become just another sucker who got duped into propagating an endless chain of electronic fiction.

As hard as I tried, I could not bust the Glenn Buratti story. There were some odd aspects to it that didn’t quite line up, but no big gotcha! There wasn’t even a little gotcha! Part of me felt relieved this wasn’t a scam. It is one of those feel-good stories affirming my faith that humanity doesn’t totally suck after all. I wanted it to be true. Another part of me felt like a cad for questioning Glenn’s mother’s motives in the first place. Maybe I should have no reason to feel bad because being suspicious is part of modern life, or at least it should be.

pinocchio-how-to-make-yourself-into-a-human-lie-detectorSo that’s where I’m at: Validate everything, especially if I’m going to use it as the topic of a blog article. That old fashioned sense of giving everyone the benefit of a doubt doesn’t work the way it did in days past. I’m not naive enough to think dishonesty is new concept, nor will I be guilt-tripped because I checked my facts before I put my byline on something for the whole world to see. The internet has made it easy to confirm truth, it’s also made it easy to bury a lie. President Ronald Reagan’s maxim, “trust but verify” no longer applies only to nuclear disarmament agreements.

Beyond the obvious moral lesson that kindness always trumps the mean spirited, the Glenn Buratti story  also teaches that it’s not a wise policy to accept someone at their word. There are so many scams and flim-flams out there; it poisons the well for any honest person in need who wants to be taken seriously. At the other end of the transaction are generous people who want to help but are holding back on the possibility they are being played. I still believe in compassion, empathy, and humanity toward others. Since I hold all of mankind’s knowledge in the palm of my hand, I’m going to to make sure there is enough truth to warrant my good will before I invest any heart and soul into someone else’s tears.

Lessons From A Dixie Trip.

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By: Chris Warren

I’m on a layover at the Atlanta, Georgia airport (ATL), one short plane ride away from beautiful Florida where I’m headed to visit a guy I’ve been close friends with since we were teenagers. Where I’m from, the winters are long and rough. Florida is a welcome treat; I’ve been looking forward to this trip for months. I’ll be crashing at my friend’s house, so I don’t have to pay for a hotel or a rental car. Time off in a warm, comfortable place and it won’t even cost me much money…it’s as good of a deal as I’m going to get without packing up and moving there.

In addition to the excitement of seeing my friend, this trip will expose me to people different than what I’m used to at home. It’s easy to think that everyone all across the USA is mostly the same, but I’ve been to places that made me forget that I was still in my own country. There have been moments when I had to remind myself that I didn’t need a passport to get there and these people were just as American as myself. Even within my home state, there are areas a world apart from where I live.

Now in Pensacola, I am in a part of the state that is more “Southern” than “Florida” in the way outsiders imagine these things (the Alabama border is less than a twenty minute drive). This is Dixie in spirit if not geography. There is a real Civil War-era fort on the gulf shore just a few miles away. The customer lounge at Jiffy Lube has Bibles as reading material. The convenience stores sell fresh boiled peanuts. And I must, must, must, have breakfast at an ubiquitous culinary icon of the South: Waffle House (there are sixteen of them in the Pensacola area alone). If you order iced tea and and don’t specify sweet or unsweet, you out yourself as being from, well, not here. It’s ok, though. The locals will smile and gently guide you through the protocol. Southern congeniality…it’s not a stereotype when it’s actually true. These people are sincerely nice.

Travel is not something I’m very interested in. I’ll seldom go somewhere just for the fun of going and if my friend did not live in Florida, I’d probably never come here. I may not be excited by the idea of boiled peanuts and oil change evangelism, but the value of wandering and witnessing firsthand how others live is not lost on me. Aside from my jealousy of the mild weather and being left speechless over what Southerners think is “good pizza,” things around here are not shockingly different than life in my own end of this great land. USA2EDIT

The buddy I’m here to visit knows a lot about acclimating to different people and customs: He originally came from Vietnam via Indonesia, lived in Illinois for many years, then went to Seattle, Washington for a short run, and is now a US citizen firmly planted in Pensacola. My learning curve was more straightforward: I’ve been on numerous treks stretched over a decade or so to see him, and once I stopped trying so hard to understand the South, the lightbulb went on in my head. If one looks for only differences, then understanding will never come. It’s like a Venn diagram where none of the circles overlap. I first had to seek out similarities and use that as a starting point to appreciate the differences.

As soon as I ended my preoccupation with being a stranger in these parts, the differences didn’t seem like all that big of a deal. We are America, after all. There may be many different color threads, but they are all part of the same piece of cloth. That is where the Venn diagram intersects. When someone from Dixie stops by my neighborhood, I’m going to offer them a slice of real pizza and hope they will see how much they are welcome in my part of the circle.

Health Club Head Games.

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By: Chris Warren.

I’m going to say it straight up: I never was much of a jock and do not enjoy going to the gym. Some people are into working out to the point that it’s a full time lifestyle. To me it’s something that needs to be done for my own good, like brushing my teeth. Not quite a drudgery, but not my idea of a great time either. And I don’t spend more time doing it than is absolutely necessary. I may not like working out, but I certainly like the results: It’s nice to be able to lug fifty pounds of cat litter up the stairs without huffing and puffing, or play basketball with my young nephew and easily keep up with him.2f9f5d0f7f07aa3f0f3212c962841122

Today I dutifully reported to the health club and stepped onto the elliptical runner for the first part of my set. With The Howard Stern Show streaming from my smartphone, I readied myself for a thirty minute uphill run. The machines are placed on an elevated platform that has a great view of rest of the facility. From there I can see most everything. Health clubs, especially one like mine that isn’t marketing itself to be trendy, tend to be gathering places for some rather odd people. For my own benign amusement, I’ve given funny names to some of the regulars: Weird Dancing Quarterback Lady, The Solar System, Cute Boy Crew, Colonel Flagg.

What is surprising –and inspiring– is the numerous older people (meaning retirement age and up) working out. They are there, day after day, and keep moving. There are a few who appear to be well into their seventies and are in amazing shape. Being around them makes me want to run faster up a steeper hill. It doesn’t make me enjoy it more, but looking at those old dudes I think to myself, “I want to be like that when I’m 70!” They motivate me without even knowing it.

There is also something to be learned from the people you don’t see. I know they are out there. They are the ghost clients who pay month after month but hardly ever make an appearance. There must be some psychology that convinces them as long as they maintain the membership and thus keep open the option of going, then they have the right to feel like they are doing something. Every single health club in the country would go out of business within a month if they were paid only when someone actually walked through the door.

Physical exercise brought on a new attitude I would not have if I spent that time doing something else. Because I had never been into sports as a kid and was not serious about staying in shape until I was well into adulthood, the feeling was a complete surprise. On the surface it doesn’t seem that running on a machine a few times a week would mess with your head (in a good way), but it does and there is quite a bit of science out there to support the concept. I leave the club refreshed and positive. I’ve never finished a set and left in a bad mood.

The attitude improvement came in many forms but the most notable was my new willingness to give the benefit of a doubt and avoid judging others. How do I know that 250 pound lady did not weigh 350 pounds a year ago? How do I know that guy struggling to stay barely above a walking pace on the treadmill didn’t just have heart surgery? It’s bad for my psyche to concern myself with these matters. I mind my own business and chuckle at Howard Stern. It’s not my place to try to figure out others’ motivations…or lack of them. We are all just a mass of sweaty souls, each at a different place on the path, but still equally on the path nonetheless.