Virtual-Doug

Published – Again!

My friend Hanh in Huê found that I have been published – again – in The Guide, a Vietnamese English language slick magazine found in hotels and airplanes.  They have my permission to lift whatever they want from my blog.  Its just my blog posting from November 12  and two of the photos.

(Be sure to click on this image - you will be able to read it that way.)

Funny – here in this country I would not even consider letting a publication use my photos and material without payment, but somehow, its okay if a Vietnamese publication does it.  This must have been a popular posting in Việt Nam because not only did The Guide publish it, but a wonderful charitable organization called The Friends of Huê Foundation  used two of my photos.

Ah -  world wide fame.

The Lessons, Redux

Last week, I wrote one of those rare postings that seems to provoke a visceral response.  In writing about the well of feelings that surround me in caring for my mother, I got a number of comments, one of which was from my brother.  It read “Its Something That We Do.”

If you are a country music fan (I’m not), you recognize that as the title of a song.  Though Clint Black sings about he and his wife, the lyrics actually apply to any relationship we describe as “love.”  Some excerpts:

    But it isn't something that we find
    It's something that we do

    An endless and a welcome task
    Love isn't something that we have
    It's something that we do

    We give ourselves, we give our all
    Love isn't someplace that we fall
    It's something that we do

I believe love is an action verb.  It transcends the silly high school girl images of the knight in shining armor and the fair maiden.  Love – whether we are talking love between friends, love between family, or erotic love – all require action on our part.  Love without work is worse than meaningless – it hurts people.

Look in your Bible at the first letter Paul wrote to the church in Corinth.  Read the first part of Chapter 13.

• Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Here’s the same passage translated in a different way:

    Love never gives up. 
    Love cares more for others than for self.
    Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
    Love doesn't strut,
    Doesn't have a swelled head,
    Doesn't force itself on others,
    Isn't always "me first,"
    Doesn't fly off the handle,
    Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
    Doesn't revel when others grovel,
    Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
    Puts up with anything,
    Trusts God always,
    Always looks for the best,
    Never looks back,
    But keeps going to the end.

Hey – I lived it.  I know I was a little shit sometimes, but Mom never stopped loving me.  I did a lot of selfish things, including volunteering to go off to combat when she was a recent widow.  She never told me “Don’t” when I married the wrong girl and never even hinted at being judgmental when I went through the inevitable divorce.  No – Mom believed that loving her son was just something that she did.

I sometimes laugh and tell people there is a little Vietnamese in me after living in Việt Nam for 1 ½ years.  There are no nursing homes there – generations live in the same house.  If I were Vietnamese, my grandkids would be caring for Mom, and doing it at home.  They would be loving Mom simply because it was something that they did.

That’s what my brother and his wife are doing now.  They are visiting – seeing Mom for what she is today.  They laughed with Mom – swapped stilted conversations with Mom – loved Mom.

       Its something that they do.

Going to a Reunion

Most readers know I lived and worked in Việt Nam for a year and a half, and make frequent trips back even now.  What some readers may not know is that the Mystery Guest Blogger and I have a long association with Việt Nam.  We met there in 1969 – she an Army nurse, and me an Infantry officer.  I had the distinct honor and privilege of commanding Company C, 2nd Battalion 5th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division.  In fact, the first part of my email address – Comanche6 – comes from my radio call sign of Tall Comanche 6.

Charlie Company is lucky – lucky to have a guy who regularly organizes reunions.  The first was back in 2000 in Atlanta, and more have followed.  Jim “Tree” Machin, who lives in the Chicago area, has taken it upon himself to track down and find men who served with the company and bring them to the reunions.  In doing that, Jim has helped a lot of them deal with the demons they still have – demons caused by not being able to talk about their experiences, or feeling nobody cares.  Jim has made it his life’s work, and many people have been the beneficiaries.

The last reunion was in October, 2006.  This was only a few months after we had returned from living in Việt Nam, and Jim asked me to make a presentation for the guys – something about what Việt Nam is like today.  I blogged about that reunion and the presentation, and was rewarded with seven people making some very cogent comments.

I was a bit taken aback at the men’s reactions to the last presentation.  I had anticipated a little antagonism, but instead got such a positive response that I had to be cut off after an hour for what was supposed to be a 20 minute talk.  The questions were good, and everyone seemed to enjoy it.  Some mentioned that it helped them with the demons.  Since that reunion, one of the men I served with has died.  His wife sent me a cherished email telling me that my talk helped Eric with his demons.  I was thrilled.

We’re doing it again in September.  I have been asked to do another presentation – and I am thinking of doing one titled “Traveling in Việt Nam.”  I’ve thought of having the Mystery Guest Blogger join with me – especially if the men’s wives sit in on this presentation.  What do you think?  Good topic?

The Lessons

Yes, I still try to visit Mom every day.  There are more days I don’t visit than I like to admit – but for the most part, I go.

I visit at least for a little while – sometimes 30 minutes, sometimes an hour.

We sit.  We tussle.  We talk.

Well, we kinda talk.  All semblance of a coherent conversation is gone.  I can ask her how her morning went, and the answer  may be “Oh, okay”, or it may be “We don’t do that here” or it may be “Terrible – just terrible.”

“What was terrible, Mom?”

“Oh, these people just don’t know how to do it.”

In other words, there is nothing fulfilling in a conversation with Mom.  There is no feedback – no interaction.  In essence, I just make my mouth move in an effort to say something, but there really isn’t anything to say.

We were going through a long period of silence the other day when something occurred to me.  Our Judeo-Christian ethic teaches us that real love is a love where there are no expectations.  One person gives with no expectation of getting anything in return.

Well, that’s the ideal, anyway.  We seldom do that.  We give Christmas presents to other adults in the hope of getting something kewl from them – heck, we give Christmas presents to kids in the hope that we can buy their love. 

In a romance, one person will tell the other that they love them unconditionally.  But watch carefully – if in time, the person no longer makes the lover happy, the relationship ends.  We expect our lover to return love, and when that doesn’t happen, we say the relationship is over.  In other words, we expect something in return when we love somebody. We want to be loved too.

I wonder where I will be when Mom is no longer capable of returning love.  Right now, she recognizes me the moment I walk into her room.  She giggles with delight when we tussle.  She returns love.  I dread the time when she is no longer able to communicate with me – when she is no longer able to return love.

She is still teaching me lessons – hard lessons.  I hope I am man enough to learn them.  Can I truly love unconditionally?

Illegal Immigration

While its true that much of what we hear is election year rhetoric, it is nonetheless true that the United States has a problem – a major problem with illegal immigration.  While its true that we have had both waves of immigration before, and resentment against those waves, this wave seems to be different in that the immigration is coming from an area contiguous with the United States.  That means there is every reason to believe the current wave of illegals will not assimilate into the American culture as previous groups have done.  Their ability to go home and rejuvenate their language and culture and perpetuate it within the U.S. means they may never become Americanized. 

Is this really a problem?  To begin with, the estimates of the number of illegals range from 7 million to over 20 million.  That’s a lot of people – people who have children (who automatically become U. S. citizens when born) who use schools, health care facilities, and social services, yet because they are illegal and receive their wages under the table, don’t pay any taxes.  Their birth rate being twice the norm of Americans, the percentage of our population that is either illegal or the children of illegals will soon approach cataclysmic proportions.  Already, my resident state of Texas has become a “majority minority” state.

Can the rest of America be far behind?

Small City Doings, Part III

(You might want to read the postings below first so you understand this one.  Small City Doings, Part I and Small City Doings Part II )

Who doesn’t love a parade?  Its one of those things that kids don’t have to pull Mom and Dad out the door to go see – most folks love a parade.  The parade was to start at 6:30, but folks began to line the route hours before the start.  Popcorn to munch on, and lots of barbecue too.

(Go ahead – click on the photos.  If you do, you’ll see a larger version of the pictures.)

The last rays of the sun were still in the western clouds as the fire trucks, police motorcycles, and other noise making contraptions passed by, followed by the King and Queen and their Royal Court.  The evening was a little chilly (for South Texas – the temperatures were in the high 50s) and I wondered how cold the girls would be by the end of the parade.  I don’t think they cared.

One of the local VFW Posts had this Color Guard made up of old timers like me.  As I was taking the shot, a thought came to me – so I turned around very quickly to look at the crowd.  Sure enough, the crowd came to its feet to render honors to our flag.  That impressed me.

And – a parade has to have bands.  There were four high school bands and at least three junior high school bands.  I guess they had to do a couple of rehearsals to get ready for the parade - football season has been over for two months.  But they were all proud and loud.

Lots of pretty girls.  All the duchesses rode atop convertibles, including the Duchess of Plumbago.  (The Mystery Guest Blogger tells me her gown is the color of the flower.)  They smiled, alternated arms to keep waving, and pretended they weren’t cold.

 

This duchess cracked me up – as I approached her car, I saw the cowboy boot poking out from under her gown.  How “Texas” can you get, eh?

Some floats were very elaborate, as was this one – lots of flowers and well lit up entered by the nearby city of Hidalgo.  It’s a bit of self-promotion as it depicts the annual Festival of Lights held in Hidalgo during the Christmas holidays – and is good advertising to the many Winter Texans here for the season.

Speaking of Winter Texans, they are an important factor in the economy of Mission, Texas, (and the rest of deep South Texas) and an extremely important part of the Citrus Fiesta.  In fact, the parade had two separate categories just for Winter Texans to compete in – and still another category for “Golf Carts”, which was for floats built on the golf carts owned by almost all Winter Texans.  I just had to get this shot of our Canadian neighbors having a lot of fun, eh?

A lot of the floats had kids on them – what could more fun than watching a parade than being in the parade?  This float was from the Mission Police Department.  On it was a Color Guard made up of the some of the officer’s kids.  This young man took his duties seriously.  He would not drop his salute until I let my camera hang around my neck and return his salute.  His Mom and Dad must be very proud.

And horses – you just gotta have horses in a parade.  There was a group from Our Lady of Guadalupe Church called itself “The Cavalry of Christ.”  This rider saw the camera, and just put on a show for me!

It was a fun night, though this blogger was a tired old man by the time I got home.  In all, I took over 1,000 photos during the day – and that many an hour in front of the computer.  But the newspaper ran an entire section devoted to the Citrus Fiesta, and three pages of nothing but photos.

Yeah – it was fun.

Small City Doings, Part II

(You might want to read the posting below first so you understand this one.  Small City Doings, Part I)

If you’ve never been to a rural county fair, you’ve missed a nostalgic part of Americana.  The Texas Citrus Fiesta comes close to replicating a country fair in what is called the “Fun Fair.”  Tents of vendors selling kitschy souvenirs, cotton candy, lots of barbecue stands, live bands – everything a country fair would have except animal displays and quilting contests.  Of course, it has its own unique flavor of deep South Texas. It’s a nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon with the family. 

(As always, be sure to click each one of the photos - you will see the larger sized version that way.)

One of the connections to the past is the Vaquero Cook-off.   (Vaquero is the Spanish word for cowboy – the men on horseback who herd cattle on large ranches.)  As the sign on this tent says, the idea is to keep alive old traditions, such as baking pan de campo (camp bread) by using cast iron skillets buried in the embers of a camp fire.  A jury judges the entries – La Esperanza Ranch won this year.

Of course not all the eateries are nostalgic or even serve “healthy” food.  Chili cheese fries, anyone? Who cares if they are fattening – an afternoon of eating junk food like this is good for the soul. 

Maybe your tastes run more towards something sweet – a funnel cake right out of the fryer with lots of powdered sugar and cinnamon on it should do the trick. 

But then again, maybe you want something in the way of fried spicy potatoes on a stick.   There is a food stand that will serve every desire.  And – because it is a fun day, Mom and Dad don’t care if its good for you or not.

I was drawn to the bandstand.  True enough the country band wasn’t too bad – not bad at all, especially as they mixed in some songs from that L’il Ole Band from Texas, ZZ Top.  They had a bunch of folks line dancing in front of the stage. 

But – as an old rocker at heart – I was drawn to the retro band that came on next.  Yeah – they did some “oldies”, but when they did of the more bluesy  numbers like “Shotgun” (Junior Walker and the All-Stars, 1965) the band rocked.  I noticed more than a few boomers in the crowd who couldn’t resist moving to the beat.  This guy wailed!

And you never know – there is competition out there too.  This little girl got a case of the uncontrollable giggles when she realized she was a shootee as well as a shooter.

And remember, folks – this is Texas.  How could it be said better than this man?

Note:  I had a ball shooting the Fun Fair.  As I was shooting, I got to wondering why I didn’t do this more often – get out and take photos of “the real Texas” as I used to do when I lived in Việt Nam.  I took pride in the fact that I shot pictures of the way people really lived – the “real Việt Nam.”  But towards the end of the afternoon, it dawned on me – to shoot “the real America”, I would have to be inside.  Because most Vietnamese don’t live in air conditioned homes or work in air conditioned businesses or drive air conditioned autos or shop in air conditioned malls, it is possible to shoot the “real Việt Nam” outside.  With the exception of events like this, or in the case of some few people who do live mostly outside,  there are few opportunities to photograph “the real America.”