Look Again! Not them. YOU!!

 "The one who needs to look again...and again, is YOU!"

~Matthew Leatherwood~ 

About 18 months ago, my wife and I went on a leisurely ride atop our beautiful, red, 2001 Harley Davidson Electraglide Classic - Firefighter Edition.  We love to ride. It was a gorgeous day and all went without a hitch...until we got to our driveway. As I slowed to make a slow right-hand u-turn in our driveway, the 850 pound motorcycle (with another 300 ish pounds on top) started to get away from me. If you're a rider, you know what I'm talking about. I put my leg out to catch us, but I just couldn't hold it. In slow motion, we toppled over and dumped it on the ground. My wife is smart and experienced, so kept her feet on the pegs and a broken leg was avoided. But it took us both to set the bike upright.

I'm nearing 64 years old now. I'm a former athlete and firefighter. I've always had plenty of strength, but on that day I didn't. To be honest, I was a little rattled. No real harm was done, but my ability to handle a bike of that size at low speeds came into question.  I was immediately less confident and we rode less and less. We collectively made the decision to sell our bike. I haven't missed it since. Riding a motorcycle, especially while carrying a passenger, let alone a passenger you love with all your heart, is a HUGE responsibility. 

But that isn't the true heart of this story. A man very much my age and much, much larger brought his wife from Kansas to look at Gladys (the Harley). He was instantly in love with her and wanted to take her for a short spin. He showed me his current motorcycle operator's endorsement and took her for a short jaunt down the block and back. He went and returned without incident, but I could tell he was nervous when he got back. It was then he told me that, while licensed, he hadn't ridden in 30 years. 

"This is an awfully big bike to get back in the game with," I protested. "It weighs over 800 pounds before gear and rider." Unshaken, he assured me he'd take it easy for awhile and get back in the game slowly. He was convincing enough, yet I had a nagging gut feeling about his ability to handle the bike. But, cash talks and he and his wife proudly loaded up the bike and towed her back to Kansas. Chapter over. Or was it?

While working in the yard, some 6 months later, I received a message from the buyer's wife. Seems she and her husband were on a ride in August and a vehicle pulled out in front of them on a two-lane highway. Her husband was killed and she spent 3 weeks in an ICU recovering from her injuries. Now, I'm not sure why she felt the need to share that information with me, but it makes me nauseous even now as I write this. Riding a bike is an enormous responsibility.

And that brings me to the real point of this blog entry and it's about something that bugs the hell out of me each spring as bikes begin to come out from a long Nebraska winter. The yard signs, facebook posts, and other propaganda are everywhere promoting the slogan "Look Again." Don't get me wrong. It's a good slogan and it's never a bad idea to remind drivers to keep an extra eye out for motorcycles. Why? Because a large percentage of bikers are inexperienced, stupid, distracted, or all the above.  

In all my years of riding (and I've been on two wheels of something since I was in elementary school), I have never had a close call with any motorcycle I've owned, on any road I was on. Why do you suppose that is? It's simple. It's because I looked again. And again. And again. When you're on your motorcycle, it is YOUR responsibility 100% of the time to expect the worst from other drivers. You are hard to see and they aren't paying attention. If you get in a battle of metal with a 4-wheeler, you'll lose every, single, time.

When I worked for the fire department, we had two classifications of accidents. At-fault and Preventable. The latter means, that while legally, an accident may not have been your fault, it was reasonably preventable. In my opinion, same goes with motorcycles. 

Look, I don't know who's fault the accident was where the man in this story was killed, but I can assure you, for an experienced rider, it was very likely preventable. Every single time you approach an intersection, you prepare to slow down. Cover the clutch, hands/feet on both brakes, prepare to downshift, and ASSUME they're about to pull out in front of you. Same goes for the number one killer of bikers, which is a vehicle making a left-hand turn in front of you. Just assume they're going to do it, and prepare. The rule is simple. Assume every driver on the road with you is going to do the wrong thing and prepare accordingly. It'll save your life and the passenger on board.

For gods sake, wear appropriate clothing, including long sleeves, long pants, leather, boots, and a HELMET! (And yes, I hate helmets, too).  Take a motorcycle safety class. I don't care how long you've been riding, you'll learn things in that course that will build confidence and could save your life. 

Spring is upon us. Motorcycles will be everywhere, and sure, it's a good idea for people to be aware. But if you're the operator of that motorcycle, for the sake of you, your passenger, and your loved ones, it is 100% YOUR responsibility to heed your own advice.

 Look again!!!

 

Rule 39

There's no such thing as coincidence."

 

~ Leroy Jethro Gibbs, NCIS ~

 

"Your equipment will never fail you. You might make a mistake, but your equipment will never fail."

 

~ Brent W. ~ 

 

 

Easily one of our favorite crime series is NCIS. Thanks to streaming networks like Netflix and Hulu, we've watched every single episode of NCIS, in order...twice. And while we've loved the cast changes along the way, we love the early days with Leroy Jethro Gibbs the most (and Tony and Ziva, of course). 

 

If you've watched even a fraction of NCIS episodes starring Mark Harmon as Gibbs, you know Gibbs has rules. He has a lot of rules and they're all numbered. In fact, even in more recent years the characters reference the numbered rules of their fearless former leader, Jethro Gibbs. The most famous of all the rules is Rule 39: "There's no such thing as coincidence." And man, has that little rule ever solved a myriad of cases. But for us, Rule 39 may have easily saved a friend from serious injury, or even death.

 

A couple years ago, we ventured south to a state where I once lived to celebrate an anniversary of a department where I once worked. It was a wonderful event with vendors, wine, dancing, and catching up with friends. In the midst of that event, we ran across a man I had worked with on several occasions. He's famous in that department for his rope and climbing skills. In fact, I believe he has over 80 years of combined experience in rope rescue, climbing, etc. He's climbed numerous mountains and walls, rescued countless people with his rope skills, and teaches what he preaches on a regular basis. He's a pro. He's an expert. In a rescue situation, there is no person I'd rather have rigging the gear that was going to hoist me to safety. 

 

I hadn't seen this man in years, and to say we were close friends would be a stretch, but we definitely shared a mutual warm respect and admiration. It was fun catching up. In the midst of all this catching up over a micro brew and the telling of a famous mountain-climbing story, my wife happened to mention she had always wanted to try repelling.  Our friend's eyes lit up as he said, "I believe I can make that happen for you." To make a fairly long story short, he gave us coordinates to a place to meet him the following day, and we did as instructed.

 

The following morning, Gina beaming with nervousness and excitement, we met our friend who began to offer Gina instructions about the harness, the rope, the various hardware, how she'd be perfectly safe, etc, etc. I myself have done a little repelling and was a trained rope technician, so I just nodded my head in agreement as our friend set the stage for Gina to fulfill a dream.

 

While going through the instructions, our friend told Gina, "You have nothing to fear from your equipment. I've been teaching this stuff for years and I tell everyone the exact same thing. People make mistakes, but your gear will never fail you...ever." And with that, while standing on the ground, he hooked the rigging to his rescue belt and fell back to demonstrate to Gina how secure the entire system was. It failed. His rescue belt, while not rated for repelling, is perfectly capable of withstanding plenty of weight and tension. As he landed on his back (remember, only from standing), we thought he was joking, but seeing the color drain from his face at the reality of what had just happened made it clear this was no joke.

 

Upon examination, we determined that the mechanism on his rescue belt where you secured a carabiner for hanging or descending or whatever, had come completely apart. Seemingly a manufacturing issue, although he'd been using the same belt for a long time. No harm. No foul. Right? Wrong.

 

On a regular basis, while doing training exercises, our friend used this belt and rigging to hang off of bridges or buildings while inspecting trainee's riggings and safety measures. Hanging....by a belt...off a bridge. A failure in that situation would have clearly caused debilitating injury and probably death. See where I'm going with Rule 39?

 

Discovering the failure of his belt while doing an on-ground demonstration most likely saved his life, because the next time he used it would have likely been at a much greater altitude. And why did it happen like this and not while hanging from a 6-story building? 

Okay, so to be fair you can chase this rabbit down the hole all the way to "because I was born," but let's reel it in a little. It happened this way because Gina and I decided to take a trip to a cool event to see some friends. It happened this way because we just happened to be at said event at a certain place and time to run in to this friend. It happened because we told a great story which prompted Gina to ask about repelling, which led to an invitation to get to repel at the hands of a true expert. It happened this way because of thousands of small decisions and events on both sides which led us to be at that one place where a man discovered his equipment failed...on the ground... not in the air.

I'm not saying it's because of us his life may have been saved. I'm saying these circumstances, which can be traced back as far as you'd like, likely did. But it gets better. How many more lives have been saved or injuries prevented because this highly experienced man learned something important that day? I'll bet the speech about equipment failure isn't part of the repertoire any longer, and I'll bet everyone (expert and trainee alike) all check their gear just one more time. And that check includes looking for cracks or flaws...things you take for granted.

Here's what we know and why this event was so important. Everything happens for a reason. Every single thing you do or think, every decision you make, hurls you toward something. And even the slightest change in plan, or a decision changed from Plan A to Plan B, changes the outcome. And the exciting part? We don't even know what that outcome might be. So really, don't overthink it. It's all happening randomly at a pace we can't comprehend, all leading to something that may be part of a plan. We can't be sure. But we can be sure about one thing.

Rule 39: There's no such thing as coincidence.

P.S. It should be noted that all equipment issues were resolved and Gina did get to repel that day...twice. It was a magical day full of dreams fulfilled and lessons learned.

 

 

The Table Has Turned

 

 

"A strong family has well-worn seats at the dinner table."

 

~Unknown~

 

"Sometimes, when you least expect it, tables turn and that scary feeling that has taken hold of you for so long somehow turns in to hope."

~David Archuleta~

 

 

Our beautiful mother, a staple in all our lives in one way or another, passed peacefully in to whatever is next on August 28, 2024. She was 91 years old. She'd been struggling for awhile, she was tired, and she was ready to be together with our dad. It was not unexpected. The immense feelings associated with the loss of the family matriarch, were indeed, unexpected.

Mom was loved by all, be they friend, family, or acquaintance. She always put other people first. In my opinion, sometimes to a fault and the last few months of seeing to all her medical requirements was eye-opening, puzzling...not something I recommend doing, yet it needed done. But this whole writing isn't about mom, exactly. You heard it all at her funeral or you've read the obituary. She was amazing. But this...this is about that table.

If you've ever been part of sorting things out with the death of a loved one, especially a parent, then you know, even when it's carefully planned, there is much to do. The funeral arrangements are the easy part. There are thousands of papers to look through, hundreds of items to donate, sell, or claim, wills enforced (with the help of an attorney) and the list goes on an on. Frankly, all the things that need done help to take your mind off the things you feel. And there are a million feels.

After every family member had laid claim to items they wanted in remembrance of our mother, we held an estate sale to move other items no one had room to store just for the sake of storing it. In other words, sometimes you just can't kick the can down the road to the next generation, who one day will have to go through your stuff. It's neither fair nor practical, and to quote several from the younger generation, "What are we going to do with that crap? We eat on paper plates." It's both sad and hilarious at the same time. Every generation is different.

I did pretty well throughout the sale, actually. I held it together as item after item that mom cherished went out the door for pennies on the dollar, off to a place to be cherished by someone else, or sold on eBay. As cold as it felt, it's just the way things are sometimes. As items disappeared from atop the table you see above, it finally hit. The last day of the sale I could hardly contain the tears (I didn't actually) as the realization that table was the anchor of our family my entire life came crashing down around me. 

For as long as I can remember, I've practiced a form of anthropomorphism. Cars, houses, animals, trees....have often taken on human characteristics for me (we're all made of energy, Bob) and this table began to talk in my brain. I could hardly let it go. The table seemed to share my sadness as it realized, after more than 60 years, it was going to a new home...a dark, non-child home and it felt as if we both were heartbroken.

Take a look at the pictures. The arms of the chairs are heavily worn from being pulled out and pushed in thousands upon thousands of times.  Every. Single. Important event at my childhood home happened around that table. The fine china was set for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I gagged on oyster stew for the first time one Christmas Eve at that table. There were birthday parties, family gatherings, discussions, Halloween Parties... hell, my dad who rarely laughed, laughed until he cried while sitting at that table while listening to a Justin Wilson LP. My parents played cards at that table, entertained friends at that table, and when I was 2 or 3 years old I napped under that table. That table was, inanimate though you may think, as much a part of our family as anyone breathing. 

Year after year after year after year, mom set things up for us to celebrate most everything around that table. And that table sat there silently and smiling, as we got up and moved to another room to open gifts, to do dishes, or watch TV. It held down the fort for long vacations and never complained as we grew older and moved away without even saying goodbye.  It even happily joined my parents as they moved to a smaller place in Lincoln where my mother continued to play cards and entertain friends around its warm embrace. 

As silly as it may seem to most, that table was a symbol of what it meant to be part of our family...of what it meant to be a Leatherwood. And now, that table is gone. And so is our mother, who went to join dad who moved on over 11 years ago. We have pictures and wonderful memories, but I never truly appreciated the importance of that table and chairs until it was going out the door for the last time. And yes, I said goodbye and thank you.

Life passes by in a wink and if things go according to plan, we all get a chance to carry on after grandparents and parents have died. It's our turn now, and I'll try harder to take notice of, not only the memories, but the things so important in helping us make those memories.

Tables turn and this one most certainly has.

 

Gaslighting 101: Good Enough

 

"We're being duped."

~Matthew Leatherwood~

 

Let's get something straight here, right from the beginning. I like Joe Biden. He's been a great president, he was a great VP for Obama, and he's been a caring and affective politician for decades. Flawless? Not even close. But under his leadership, our economy is on the road to recovery, unemployment figures are the best they've been since the 60's and our country has been breathing a collective sigh of relief.  He's a good man and his heart is seemingly in the right place.

So, when you suggest I've somehow abandoned him because I've called out the entire party for a "bad night," then you're doing the same thing Republicans have been doing since Trump hit the scene. You're gaslighting. Calling out our party for dropping the ball while still accepting the fact I support our president and will vote for him in November, if that's our option, is a thing. It's not an either/or proposition, and frankly, if you're not calling out our party for dropping the ball, shame on you. Blindly following a candidate, no matter what, is exactly what the Republicans have been doing. 

Let me try to explain. The debate that started this wake-up call wasn't just a debate. This was an opportunity to put the doubts about Joe's health to rest and move our party forward in the struggle to make a maniac insignificant. Democrats had 8 years. Eight. Years. to put together a candidate or, at least, thoroughly prepare a candidate, for what needed to happen the night of the debate. 8 Years to have someone on that staff focus on one thing. They blew it. Joe, indeed, had a bad night. But in my book, you don't get to have a publicly bad night if you're running for leader of the free world. 

He isn't running for Student Council or School Board President. He is what stands between us and a Trump presidency; between us and dictatorship (Project 2025), and he and our party dropped the ball on seemingly the most important event of the entire campaign. But here's the thing. I don't blame Biden nearly as much as I blame our party for this fiasco. It's almost as if our party didn't want Joe to run and they set him up to fail. If that's the case, they succeeded. 

Do you care to know who I really blame? I blame you. And I blame myself. We have slipped into such an era of complacency that we're all willing to accept any ole candidate that we believe can defeat the orange idiot, even if it means following him into defeat. Everyone claims to give a shit on Facebook, yet the turnout for primary voting in Nebraska was barely a third of registered voters.  A third. Clearly, we don't really care who "leads" us and the 1% know that. 

It would be easy to fall into the mindset that your vote doesn't count. And maybe in the end, it doesn't. But right now it counts more than ever. Even if not for president, it counts for senators and congresswomen and men. It counts for state supreme court justices and hundreds upon hundreds of supporting cast. 

Speaking of which, many of you argue that if Biden is reelected, even if he couldn't complete his term, there's a great VP waiting. Even if he begins to suffer from worsening dementia, he has a solid cabinet to keep him in check. I'll give you that. BUT WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU BE OK ELECTING SOMEONE WHO IS STATISTICALLY INCAPABLE OF COMPLETING HIS TERM FOR ANY REASON?!?!  I know. I know. We have to vote blue no matter what and I solemnly swear to do just that. Joe has my vote if that's who we bring to the table, because, for now, he's good enough.

But this isn't the end. Every single one of us bears the responsibility for both parties offering us these ridiculous choices and there will (hopefully) be other elections to come. We have to do better. We have to do much better. We have to make ourselves heard. 

The United States of America has been a grand experiment for nearly 250 years. For 200 of that, it went pretty well. But now this grand experiment is on the verge of collapse, both as a government and as a capitalist economy. Some may call me a pessimist or downright cynical. Maybe that's true, but not being critical and letting things go without playing a part is exactly what got us in this mess. And you may call it pessimism, but I call it realism. If we don't step up as a nation, this experiment will end soon. Will it be in civil war? I don't know. I certainly hope not.

Here's what I do know. I'll be voting blue across the board in November, because I simply don't have a choice. And ironically, I hear that same sentiment from conservatives all the time. I love what Joe has done for us, but I'm only interested in how he can lead moving forward. That's simply where we are right now.

Good enough is no longer good enough. Not for me, it isn't.

 

Be an Advocate

 

"America's Health Care System is neither healthy, caring, or a system."

~Walter Cronkite~

"Take care of the patient and everything else will follow."

~Thomas Frist, M.D.~

Our health care system is broken. And if you're part of that health care system (as I once was), you need to hear this. You need to read this and take it to heart. Our system isn't broken by government intervention (although Medicare is a  nightmare), by lack of training, or even by lack of highly skilled doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, et al.  It's broken because we've become so highly specialized, and because there are now so  many moving parts, the left hand doesn't know what the right hand is doing. 

Despite the technologies of the 21st century, which seemingly allow doctors from every specialty to communicate seamlessly, it still doesn't happen. The ridiculous lack of communication between doctor and patient is incredible. In part, because like a good mob boss, doctors place layer upon layer of people between them and their patients. Nurse practitioners, Physician's Assistants, Nurses, and a host of other people, like receptionists, lab techs, pharmacists, home health specialists ALL play a vital roll in a person's care. That's a lot of moving parts. And if you couple that with caring for people from a generation with White Coat Syndrome who don't dare ask questions, you have a formula for disaster.

If you have a family member in need of care, or who is currently receiving care, and they seem lost, or if their condition is worsening, heed this. You need to educate yourself and become an advocate. This is the story of my mother:

About three years ago, my mother was told she needed to use supplemental oxygen as needed, especially at home while at rest and at night. A home concentrator was brought to her home and she began to use it. Also delivered were small oxygen bottles for her to use when she was mobile "if needed." Until recently, those mobile bottles weren't necessary. This is going to get hard to follow, so I'll apologize in advacnce. 

My mother has had low hemoglobin levels for as long as I can remember, so like an ignorant fool, I assumed her oxygen needs were related to that chronic issue. When I pressed my now 91 year old mother for info from her doctor about why she needed oxygen, she said, "I don't know. He just said I needed it." No questions asked, of course. And so that was how it went for 3 years...And then everything changed.

About 4 months ago, my mother started getting weaker.  She was losing weight, didn't eat much, and needed oxygen 24/7. Although I continued to blindly assume this had to do with her hemoglobin levels and the fact she was in her 90's (mentally, she is still sharp as a tack), I insisted on going with her to a follow-up appointment to her pulmonologist. This is where the whole thing started and what I began to see unfold was terrifying.

We didn't see her doctor that day. We saw his PA. She was polite and seemed knowledgeable, but I stopped her the moment she started to ask how my mother was doing. "Wait," I interrupted. "Why are we even here? Does my mom even have a diagnosis?" This young PA looked at me like I was from another planet. "Of course, she does. She has pulmonary fibrosis. Interstitial lung disease. You didn't know?" AHA!! The curtain was finally lifted. My mother didn't think to ask 3 years ago, and I wasn't smart enough to ask most recently.

So, the oxygen needs were because her disease had progressed AND she had a mass on her lung. Now it started to make sense. And here's where the communication continued to break down. The PA prescribed some different meds and ordered a PET scan. When the nurse came in to discharge us, I asked about using the new meds. "I don't know," she said. "I'll be right back." She came back with an answer which brought a host of other questions from me, which she also either didn't get, or didn't understand from the PA.

When we checked out to schedule a follow-up and a PET scan, the receptionist thought it best to schedule those on the same day, a month later!! So my question to her was, "Considering she has a mass on her lung that resembles cancer, would you not feel like that PET scan should be sooner?" She agreed and that particular procedure was moved up to the following week. My point is, had I not asked, my mother surely would not have and we'd still be waiting for a PET scan. The family you have in your care need an advocate. Speak up! But wait, it gets better. I'll try to move this along some, but it's horribly convoluted.

Only a couple days later, I called to check on my mom. Her voice was extremely hoarse, her breathing was labored, and her oxygen stats were in the 70's. To be fair, 70's weren't all that unusual for her, but something was amiss. I suggested we take her to the ER and she agreed without an argument. Now I KNEW she was sick. My brother scooped her up and took her to the ER and I met them there shortly after.

Here's the problem with ERs. They're horribly overcrowded, understaffed, and the doctors are asked to be specialists in a variety of areas. So, once my mom was taken to her room, a battery of tests were taken to get the answers to questions to which we already knew the answer. It's a horrible waste of time and resources, and in the end, the doctor came in to tell us, "All the tests are normal. She has fibrosis, which means this is just how it's going to be, so we're going to discharge her and have her follow up with her pulmonologist." And at first, this seemed logical.

Enter our first real advocate who was paying attention. A young respiratory therapist came in to do some final checking on some things. She was actually on loan from another department, but when I told her we were about to sign discharge papers, she was shocked. "She's not a candidate for discharge with these stats! I'll talk with the doctor. Is she on Medicare? If so, all she has to do is say so, and she stays." That was definitely information I didn't know. When the doctor came back, he asked if I had more questions. Short version: She stayed. The bottom line, again, is, if someone hadn't been there to advocate for my mother, she'd have been discharged, and probably be dead by now.

Once admitted to the hospital, things finally started to happen that should have happened a long time ago. We saw the pulmonary doctor (not his PA), we started steroids, upped her oxygen intake,  got her regular meals, tested her demands for oxygen while at rest and under exertion, got her nebulized breathing treatments and got several balls rolling in the right direction. You know what? She got better. Not cured (fibrosis only gets worse, never better), but she started eating, she had more energy, her color improved, and her oxygen stats climbed in to the 90's.

We set her up with high flow oxygen, home health care visits once a week, physical therapy and so much more. But you know what? Without an advocate from outside the healthcare system, she would never have been able to coordinate and figure this all out. And even if the healthcare system had come through with the coordination, it would have taken weeks. There were new prescriptions, some Medicare wouldn't cover from a retail pharmacy, someone needed to pick them up and show her how to use a nebulizer. She needed coached on when to turn her oxygen up and how. And it was a logistical nightmare she wouldn't have navigated just to get her the high flow oxygen equipment she now needed. And the most mind-blowing piece of that entire puzzle was that no doctor we saw at the hospital knew high flow oxygen for home use existed. Unreal. It took one phone call and one question from an advocate willing to ask the question to get her what she needed. She wouldn't have.

And just when we thought we had everything set up to run smoothly, a home health care nurse who was only trying to meet my mom's request, called the pulmonologist to get her smaller oxygen bottles with an on-demand regulator which wouldn't have met her flow needs. And the DOCTOR APPROVED IT!!  Someone, for the love of god, read a chart. Pay attention! I arrived in time to send the oxygen delivery guy back with all his new stuff and got messages to everyone involved to not make oxygen use decisions without calling me first. Again. the left hand didn't know what the right hand was doing and it almost put my mom right behind the 8 ball again.

Now, before you suggest she needs 24/7 care, this exact scenario would have played out the same if she were 41 instead of 91. She doesn't know what questions to ask. And her generation doesn't question anyone with a white coat. What she needs is someone to ask the right questions. More importantly, she and people like her, need someone to ask ANY question. 

To be fair,  I was blessed to have a career where I witnessed the happenings at some of the finest ERs in the country, so I have a fairly unique perspective when it comes to being an advocate for someone. The fine professionals in these ERs were grossly overworked, understaffed, underappreciated, and...human. If you learn nothing else from this short, hard-to-follow rambling, learn this. Doctors, nurses, techs, and everyone else in that hospital are human. They do and will make mistakes. And there is so much information from so many sources to be communicated, you can be sure information will be lost. 

YOU have to take responsibility for your care. Whether it's you or a family member, you have to assume people will make mistakes and drop the ball when it comes to communication. YOU have to be the coordinator. YOU have to be brave enough to ask the tough question or even the questions you might think are stupid. YOU have to educate yourself. Google makes it easy these days. And what happens if you don't?

It's not totally the fault of the individuals who are merely part of a broken system. But it's true that people get more sick and die every minute of every day because they didn't have an advocate to ask the right questions. 

Become an advocate.

 

Green Acres

 

 

“If you’re going to complain about farmers, make sure you don’t talk with your mouth full”

 

 ~ Molly Tiernan ~

“There’s enough on this planet for everyone’s needs but not for everyone’s greed.”
 

 ~ Mahatma Gandhi ~

“They got money for wars but can’t feed the poor.” 

~ Tupac Shakur ~

 

And we can't go any further without my favorite quote about farmers: "If you ate today, thank a farmer." In some cases, this quote, along with the Tiernan quote from above, could be considered true. But if you're from Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, or nearly any other state which grows millions of acres of feed corn and soybeans, it simply isn't true. What is true is that we don't have anywhere near what I'd call a food shortage in the United States, or the world, for that matter. What we do have is a world-wide distribution problem. We have subsidized farming and a greed problem. People simply aren't starving because there isn't enough food.

Before I go one step further, let me be clear that I have the utmost respect for farmers and the hard work they do, and to some degree, the risks they take. What I don't support is the farming industry and the way it's set up to maximize profit and control distribution. And this isn't just in the farming industry. Like just about any other industry you can name, farming is a product of capitalism and is more about profit than it is about food. And believe me when I tell you, we're all about to suffer for it in a big way.

How did I come to this cynical conclusion, you may ask? I spent two years helping some local, well-established farmers during harvest. They made the mistake of sharing some numbers with me and I started digging just a bit.  Math wasn't my strongest subject in school, but I've gotten good enough to do the basics, which is mostly all it takes to figure out some basic profit and loss and distribution.

I drove a grain cart, which means I could see each and every bushel of corn or soybeans picked go through the computer. It's simple division to determine bushels picked based on weight, but it isn't really necessary. The computer does it for you. I won't bore you with the daily details, but what I can tell you is that, in round numbers, they harvested 250,000 bushels of corn each year. Of that 250,000 bushels, 10,000 bushels were transported to the local Cooperative. And the other 240,000 bushels? Well, these former truck drivers spent all winter each year delivering corn to the closest ethanol plant to make government subsidized gas for your car. Surely you've noticed that 10% ethanol gas at the pump is less money than regular unleaded, even though the process is more expensive.

So, why would these farmers (and most of the others) sell all this corn to make gasoline? It pays better. Much better, actually. In some cases a dollar per bushel better. Take that times 240,000 bushels, and now you're talking about real money. And why on earth would selling corn for ethanol pay better than selling it for food? Listen, Linda. We have enough food. The ethanol commodity is government-subsidized.

If you'll recall from your basic Economics class, when demand for a product increases, so generally does its price. When you have an overstock of something, it drives the prices down. And in the case of corn, excess supply was bringing it down... a lot. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but that whole, "knee high by the fourth of July" nonsense is long gone. Now corn is 6-8' tall by that date. Modified strains of seed, better insecticides and herbicides, and endless supplies of irrigation, have pushed production way, way up. Irrigation alone basically doubles the yield compared to dryland corn. So, what is one to do with all this excess and still keep the price up? You create a market for it (ethanol), and then you subsidize it. The same is true of soybeans, but to a lesser extent. Another crop for another time.

It sure sounds like everyone wins, doesn't it? There's already enough food. So why not make a way to support farmers that helps stretch the supply of fossil fuels and utilizes all this corn. I'll tell you why, and there are two reasons I can think of just off the top of my head. The first in my mind is that you have to fix the distribution problem so that no one in the world goes hungry while we're growing record crops before you do anything else! How inhumane is it for a starving child to know or see or even hear about sources of food going to put fuel in cars? And make no mistake, there's also a large percentage of corn crop going to feed cattle, an obvious food source, and yet, feeding grain to cattle is a ridiculously inefficient use of the crop. And I haven't even addressed water yet. 

The second reason in my opinion, and likely the most important, is the impact agriculture is having on our environment. You can argue all you want about climate change and whether or not it's happening. Of course it's happening. It's been happening since the last ice age. The question isn't whether or not it's happening. The question is, 'At what rate?" It's now happening at an exponential rate and human beings and agriculture have almost everything to do with the rate at which it's changing. Here's partly how.

Since white Europeans hit the continent and started farming, more and more of our native grasses have been converted to farmland. In fact, by some estimates, up to 98% of the once lush grasslands of the Great Plains have been lost to agriculture. That creates a species issue, a water retention issue, an erosion issue, and even a carbon dioxide issue. Sure, crops create oxygen, blah blah blah, but only a fraction of what is produced by trees and native grasses for only a fraction of the time. In addition, erosion and over-planting (even with "no-till" and crop rotation) is killing our topsoil. If you've been sleeping, an adequate topsoil is part of the equation that keeps us all alive. By the admission of the farmers I worked for, the topsoil depth, when they began farming in the area some 50 years ago, was about 2 feet. Today,  the depth is closer to 6 inches, and yet, we keep planting.

Have you heard of the Ogallala Aquifer? In most of the Midwestern states and throughout the Plains, it's where we get our fresh water. If you had a glass of water today, it came from the Ogallala Aquifer. It's also what gets used for irrigation of crops...the ones that go to make gasoline, biodiesel, corn syrup, plastic, and other useless crap to a starving child. And if you think we don't have starving kids right here in Nebraska...hell, right here in Jefferson County, you're just not paying attention. But I digress. The Ogallala Aquifer is slated to be mostly gone by 2050. That's 26 years. You think wars over oil are bad, wait until Midwesterners start killing each other over something to drink. 

Just like the decades-old conflict between Israel and Palestine, many will try to say this is a complicated issue. And I can see where you might want to lean that direction. Sure, working out how to pay farmers, create demand, feed everyone, and fuel our cars has a lot of moving parts. But the one moving part we can't ignore is our environment, and especially, our water. It's running out. And it's running out locally in our lifetime.  When that happens, none of the other parts will matter. 

It's not complicated.

Namaste

 

It's Not that Complicated

"Perspective can definitely be filtered by when you decide to jump into the discussion."

~JH~ 

 

My friend, who responded to a post of mine on Facebook with the above quote, is correct. Your perspective can, and often is, filtered by when you decide to jump into any discussion. And I can tell you exactly where I was when I decided, after 50 years of keeping my head in the sand, to enter this one.

I was on vacation, driving down Hwy 168 in North Carolina, when I began to notice Israeli flags flying everywhere. Billboards, road-side attractions, and storefronts by the dozens were brandishing the Israeli flag and boasting, "We stand with Israel!" And because I'm an American and I like to be supportive, I thought, "I'd better stand with Israel, too!" Followed by, "I wonder what's going on in Israel." To be honest, I hadn't been keeping up with the happenings there recently, or since, well, ever. 

So, just like I finally did with things like the white European move west and happenings at places like Mount Rushmore, I began to dig into what was, in fact, IS, happening with Israel, Palestine, the Gaza Strip, etc. I asked most everyone I knew, be they Christian, Jewish, or something in between about what they knew about what was happening in the Middle East and why we were supporting Israel. I got varying opinions (as you might expect), but the lead-in was nearly always, "Well, it's a complicated situation, but..." 

But I'm here to tell you, from where I'm standing, based on just a little more digging (I am NOT professing to be any kind of Middle East expert) it is NOT complicated. In fact, it isn't complicated at all. So, should you be open-minded enough to consider what it is I've found, let's talk about why I, in fact, do not stand with Israel. 

Let's clear up something first. For starters, not standing with Israel does NOT mean I don't care about Israeli people or Jews. What I'm about to discuss has absolutely nothing to do with one's "Jewishness." I've been called an Anti-Semite twice this week, and nothing could be further from the truth.  Accusing me of antisemitism is a gaslighting technique to avoid facing a hard truth.  To be clear, I do not support the Israeli government. The people are just like us and want what we do...to be understood.

Furthermore, I do NOT support the recent actions of Hamas. What Hamas has done is terrorism, plain and simple. And whether or not Hamas was elected by the Palestinian people, and whether or not Israel funds Hamas to discredit the Palestinians, what Hamas has been doing is wrong. But, so is what Israel has been doing to the Palestinians for decades. Israel has been raining down genocide on the Palestinians in the name of God since WWII, and folks, that's just not okay.

How did this all get started? (I'm going to paraphrase a lot! I'm writing a blog, not a book). It may not surprise you to learn this is a religious war over, of all things, property. Apparently, some 6,000 years ago, the bearded sky man himself promised Abraham a "promised land." Abraham then spent some 40 years in the desert looking for said promised land, but never found it. Apparently, it turns out that land is Palestine.

Fast forward a few years to say, c. 1947, prior to which there was no geographic Israel, and the good ole Christian folks of the US of A supported the Jewish people in claiming lands in Palestine...violently, I might add. It was ordained by God, after all, and it was time the Israelites got their land. And besides, Israel was the only democratic state in the region and the United States needed stability (aka, someone who believes like they do) in the region so that we could peacefully get, you guessed it, oil. And so, the killing of innocent men, women, and children in the name of God to claim the holy land was begun and it's been going on for close to a century now. 

This should sound familiar to you. Remember those white, European settlers who landed on the beach with a mandate from the Queen of England to "claim lands in the name of England?" Well, 54 million indigenous people and 98% of the native grasslands later, and they've done exactly that. They wiped out an entire, innocent population with no mandate other than an order from the Queen.

And how about the Crusades? How many people were slaughtered during that mess in the name of Christianity, and more specifically, Catholicism? And that leads me straight to the war we continue to wage in the Middle East over an attack on US soil. The number of deaths from 9/11 has now multiplied by the tens of thousands over a "war on terrorism" with the likes of Al Qaeda. 22 years. Twenty. Two. Years we've been waging war with an "enemy" we could have wiped out in 10 minutes. Follow the money.

The US is likely funding Al Qaeda so they can continue to wage war, because wars make the rich richer. Israel is likely funding Hamas in the same way, to not only discredit the Palestinians, but so they can continue to wage war that makes...the rich richer. In much the same way, the US funds drug cartels. You remember Ronald Reagan and the 1980's don't you? 

So, you think this is complicated because it's a religious war in a region that has been at odds for centuries. I say it has nothing to do with religion, or being Jewish, or some mandate from god. I say it's as simple as right or wrong and it isn't that difficult to figure out. Want to know who the bad guys are? The terrorists?

If you believe the slaughter of innocent indigenous people in the name of the Queen was ok; if you think enslaving millions of Black people was ok, while proclaiming Christianity, was acceptable; if you think the Israeli government slaughtering innocent Palestinians to claim land promised by the word of god in an ancient text is prophetic, or that continuing to wage war with Al Qaeda in a war we could have won in minutes is "just the way things are," then you don't have to look very far for the religious, terroristic, cultist extremist...

It's you.

It's really that simple.

Namaste,

Matt