The Toddler Also Rises (And Wakes Up Daddy)

Well I've finally done it. My dirty little secret is officially a thing of the past. After 30 years on this Earth, I have finally read an Ernest Hemingway novel. You know, one of the most important influences on the development of the short story and novel in American fiction. The guy that seized the imagination of the American public like no other twentieth-century author ... and other praise I'm copying straight out of his "About the Author" section!

This has always been a shameful fact I've kept hidden away. Along with the facts that I can't swim and I've never been able to effectively blow bubbles without spitting gum across the room. But don't tell anyone.

The fact that I had never actually read a Hemingway novel is inexcusable. As a thriving ex-journalist, I should have flocked to him like a groupie. After all, Hemingway is perhaps the most famous and accomplished ex-journalist of all time. Right alongside Stephen King and John Tesh. And he lived in Idaho for crying out loud!! How many Pulitzer Prize-winning authors have lived in Idaho? Anyone? Hello?

Here's the problem. For some reason Hemingway has earned a reputation as a larger-than-life figure that requires special powers of brilliance to comprehend. April still recalls the time her high school class spent an entire month pouring over the religious symbolism within "The Old Man and the Sea." You can't even say the name "Hemingway," without triggering a reflex that forces you to stroke your chin and mumble, "Yes. Hemingway. Indeed."

I've also made the mistake in the past of trying to read other "classic" authors such as Charles Dickens and Dostoevsky. I needed smelling salts and strong electric currents to shock me out of my coma. Snoozers all.

So, while spending a rare childless afternoon at Barnes and Noble last week, I decided to take the plunge. I was going to purchase a Hemingway novel and I was going to read it! I would endure every last religious symbol and obscure reference that I was clearly not brilliant enough to understand. I would take it like a man and pretend that I understood every word!

I went home that evening, said a little prayer, and began reading. It took about two pages before I blurted out, "Why didn't anybody tell me he was awesome!!" This is a guy who wrote after every red-blooded male's heart. He had it all - fishing, alcohol, bull fights, girls, more alcohol, exotic trips into the mountains, even more alcohol, tennis, and drunken antics fueled by alcohol.

I'm not sure where this high-brow reputation came from, but Ole' Ernie was a fun-loving SOB who wrote entire novels filled with simple sentences like, "It was always pleasant walking over the bridge at sunset," and "So we sat and thought deeply for a while." Crazy stuff! I don't know about you, but I've never in my life sat with someone silently and "thought deeply for a while." I love it!

I read "The Sun Also Rises" in three days, and I followed that by reading "The Old Man and the Sea" today while Michael took a nap. It felt fine to be reading and happy .... See, there I go. I can't help myself. The ghost of Ernie has taken over my soul. This very moment I'm fighting off a compulsion to guzzle two bottles of wine and chase it with a whiskey sour. If they had a bull-fighting channel I'd be watching it right now, while downing three beers and a shot of bourbon.

So here's to you, Ernest Hemingway. I plan to spend the next few weeks devouring your novels and ridding myself of three decades of guilt. Anyone got any leather wine-bags?

Sit and think deeply for a while kiddies!

- Dave

My one shining moment ... and sermon

A couple of weeks ago I had great fun joking about my son Michael's penchant for stardom during his brief appearance on local public television. I kidded the little guy for grabbing the microphone out of the host's hands, and busting out one-liners that will live in PBS infamy.

Well, it seems the apple does not fall far from the tree in the Ward household. It appears that Michael's father may have some issues with, shall we say, hogging the spotlight. Two Sundays ago I spent a morning delivering a sermon at my church. It was a heartfelt plea for people to look beyond the labels that seem so prevalent and divisive in our society, and try to see people for who they truly are. Try to understand where they are coming from, even if you don't agree with what they are saying or what they stand for. Bring back the lost art of communication and debate.

The problem with the presentation is that it contained a few jokes. Okay, about a thousand jokes. Some of which must have been funny, because the audience let out a few hearty laughs early on. Apparently this reaction triggered a star-fuse in my brain, and suddenly I thought I was Jim Carrey doing standup. I morphed into a cross between Carrey and Bill Murray's lounge act guy on Saturday Night Live singing "Starrrr Waaaaarrrrssss!" It wasn't a pretty sight, let me assure you.

I spent about 20 minutes reeling off zingers and dancing a jig (at least I think that's what it was!). It was truly my "One Shining Moment." In fact, I may have sung a few bars of this lovely tune at some point during the speech. I can't remember. It's all a blur now!

When it was mercifully over the stunned crowd sat in silence and held each other for comfort. Well, you'll be happy to know that I'm back to changing diapers and scooping dog food. The Star Wars guy has left the building. For now at least. We can only hope I don't run into any TV cameras, or a podium, in the near future. Who knows what chaos will ensue!

I would, however, like to offer my sermon here for anyone interested in reading it. Just picture Bill Murray crooning "If they should baaarrrrr Waaaaarrrrrsss, pleaaaasse let these Starrrrr Waaarrrrrsss staaaaaaaaaaayyyy!," and you'll have an accurate picture in your head of what it was like to witness Michael's father deliver it .....

“PEELING OFF THE LABELS”

David M. Ward

Last spring I spent a glorious evening participating in one of America’s most treasured pastimes. That’s right – I went bowling. Joining me in this grand tradition of cold beer, greasy food, pesky pins and hideous shoes was a lifelong friend who literally grew up next door to me. She’s known me since the fourth grade, so she’s well aware of my Unitarian Universalist habit of throwing out controversial statements and opinions at the most inopportune times. I just assumed that she gave her boyfriend, whom I was meeting for the first time that evening, fair warning. As you will soon see, I assumed wrong.

The first hour passed without a hitch. Beer flowed and strikes mounted. One of those strikes inexplicably came from me. Quite a rare feat, I assure you. We quickly delved into conversation so beloved among the “lanes.” You know – football, beer, football. Like all good UU’s, I somehow shifted a lively debate about whether the 49ers do indeed suck toward politics. I still don’t recall how this happened, but just be aware it’s not unusual. Before I know what is happening, I find myself droning on about the merits of Mr. Bill Clinton and his varied accomplishments as President of the United States. Again, I have no idea how this happened. I just know that it did.

Well, this induced a rather peculiar reaction from the boyfriend. His body language, which was rather calm and friendly up until this point, stiffened instantaneously. His eyes became wide saucers filled with a curious mixture of bewilderment, fear and anger. Steam began shooting out of his ears, and his skin turned white as snow.

“Oh my god,” he uttered with fists clenched. “YOU’RE A DEMOCRAT!!!”

I’ve got another one for you.

I recently crossed paths with a friend of a friend at a holiday party. We began chatting pleasantly about weather and chips while congregating over a large bowl of chips. Everything was going fine until he began dropping disturbing buzz words. He kept uttering things like “Moscow,” and “Kibbie Dome.” I shook it off, telling myself I was only hearing things, until he dropped the ultimate bomb. “When do you think the Vandals will turn it around,” he asked, without a hint of sarcasm.

Quickly my stomach began churning. My eyes became wide saucers filled with a curious mixture of bewilderment, fear and anger. Steam began shooting out of my ears, and my skin turned white as snow.

“Oh my god,” I uttered with fists clenched. “YOU’RE AN IDAHO VANDALS FAN!!!”

Okay, okay. I made that last one up. Everyone knows there is no such thing as an Idaho fan anymore (Is this thing on?). But the first scenario is genuine, and the second one, well it could very well happen to any loyal Bronco backer.

The point of this little venture down story time is to shed light on a rather disturbing trend in our society. It appears that labels, and all of the negative connotations that come with them, are taking over. People are divided these days by everything from government party affiliation, to sports teams, to choice of automobile. It appears that most of us go through our lives looking for ways to divide ourselves, rather than respect the “worth and dignity of each human being,” as our UU principles teach. This is nothing new. Labels have existed since the beginning of time. What is disturbing, however, is the increased negativity and outright hostility emerging in society today.

People may enjoy numerous things in common. They might enjoy each other’s company, revel in common experiences and share a similar sense of humor. They might get along wonderfully before one simple label, one measly word, shatters everything. Once revealed, the label cannot be taken back and the numerous items shared in common are rendered obsolete. This is simply not right.

To experience first-hand the power of labels on your own life, consider a few examples and all of the emotions and back-stories that go with them. Words like “Democrat,” “Republican,” “Idahoan,” and “illegals.” Consider religious labels such as “fundamentalist,” “bible thumper” and “non-believer.” Labels such as “tree-hugger” and “gas-guzzler” are bandied about regularly in everyday conversation. In all of these cases the emphasis has drifted away from “who” you are and focused squarely on “what” you are. In most cases this emphasis is entirely negative and strips away the common human traits that we all share. In each instance a simple label holds potential to snowball into radical assumptions regarding belief, lifestyle and religious affiliation. It has become all too easy to assume you know everything about someone simply through a label. Again, these assumptions are almost always negative.

The label that convinced me things were getting out of hand was “American.” I distinctly remember hearing the phrase, “I’m a good American,” and being repulsed by it. The speaker was not referring to living in the United States of America. He was referring to a specific ideology, political party and religious affiliation that differed from my own. This revelation was both mystifying and terrifying.

Allow me a moment for full disclosure. It’s possible I need this presentation more than anyone in this room. I am a fully-functioning “labelaholic,” complete with preconceived notions and unwarranted prejudice. My rant against materialism has reached epic proportions. My wife, April, jokes this very rant serves as a rite of initiation when getting to know me. A typical introduction goes something like this – “Hi there, my name’s Dave. It’s really nice to meet you. Some weather we’re having, right? …. LET ME TELL YOU WHY HUMMERS ARE EVIL!”

For the many kind souls in this room who have endured this rant, I offer my deepest apologies. Most of you have continued to tolerate my presence, because UU’s have a long tradition of accepting crazy people. Many may agree with my less, shall we say, idiotic points against materialism. But it still doesn’t make my behavior acceptable. To lay out blanket assumptions about an entire segment of people is both ignorant and immature. As April is often quick to point out, that “evil” hummer driver I am raging against might donate millions of dollars to charity each year. He or she might dedicate their lives to bettering humanity while driving around in a small tank. You simply don’t know.

We all need to drop the assumptions. Move past the temptation to label everyone and everything. Stop seeking out and glorifying our differences, and start focusing on the many wonderful traits we all share. The world is a vast and complicated place. The more you look around, the more you realize that the world is not black and white, as some would have you believe. Rather, the world is covered in shades of gray. There are good people doing bad things, and bad people doing good things. It’s too easy to live in fear, fall back on labels and distance yourself from others. Distance yourself from true sharing.

From true community.

From true love.

If you promise to avoid this trap, I will as well.

Here’s a secret I’ll share with you. You know that fear you hold deep, deep down inside? The ultimate awe at the mystery of what we’ll never understand, but ultimately call “life”? What this great mystery means, and how your tiny existence fits into its master plan? You know that overwhelming feeling you get while watching a bird in flight, or a baby laughing? How truly naked you feel when you ponder how much you don’t know and will never know regarding this great universe we’re all spending time in?

I have those same fears. I feel that same awe.

Look around this room. We all do.

I truly believe that a natural human response to these fears and this awe is to hide it way down deep where no one can find it. We cover our feeling of nakedness with layers of our own human creation. And we cover those layers with even more layers. “I’m not a confused, naked human life plucked out of the great mystery and placed on planet Earth. I’m a doctor, who is also a liberal, who attends a Unitarian Church and supports the Boston Red Sox,” would be one example. All of these labels serve as layers, covering our naked humanity and giving us a sense of control over that which will never truly be mastered.

These labels make us feel better. Give us an identity and direction. Unfortunately, problems arise when we lose sight of our exposed, naked selves lurking just below the surface. When we stop realizing that everyone is sharing these same feelings, and experiencing the same awe. They just express them differently and wear different layers. It’s perfectly natural to disagree. In fact, it’s healthy. As many of us at BUUF have experienced, one-sided debates are actually quite boring. Disagreement should always lead to discussion, which leads to thought, which ultimately produces progress.

Too often in today’s society we lose track of our common humanity. We are blinded by differences blown up to monumental proportions. Rather than seeing a fellow human soul trying to make it through this crazy life the best way he or she knows how, we see only an “enemy.” We are blinded by the various layers they wear, and lose all ability for compassion and understanding. “You wear designer clothes and talk on your cell phone at the park, so you must be a bad person,” would be one of my more misguided assumptions.

So, what can we do about this? How can we move beyond labels? Defeat them before they crush the humanity out of us all? I don’t know about you, but I think the best advice always comes from our mothers. I think we should all heed the advice they gave us around third grade. I believe it goes something like this – Whenever you’re confronted by someone who scares or intimidates you, just picture them naked. They won’t seem so scary anymore.

Sound about right?

Well, I say we give it a shot. We should go around picturing people naked! …. Not like that! We should simply take a deep breath, slowly peel off the layers they are covering themselves in, and attempt to truly see them for the first time. See who they really are, and what they are really all about. Find common ground in our shared humanity.

This idea is hardly a new one. Rest assured I didn’t come up with this stuff. I’m just a caveman-stay-at-home Dad. Your world confuses and frightens me. I do know, however, that leaders have been championing this cause since labels were first invented. Mahatma Gandhi eloquently phrases his passion for finding common ground by stating, “I offer you peace. I offer you love. I offer you friendship. I see your beauty. I hear your need. I feel your feelings. My wisdom flows from the Highest source. I salute that Source in you. Let us work together for unity and love.”

The Rev. Jesse Jackson warns, “Never look down on anybody, unless you’re helping him up.”

A favorite author of mine, Marianne Williamson, has written several wonderful books on the importance of unity. “Love is what we were born with,” she says in her beautiful book A Return to Love. “Fear is what we have learned here. The spiritual journey is the relinquishment- or unlearning – of fear and the acceptance of love back into our hearts.”

Words to live by, if you ask me.

Even Jesus Christ, arguably the most influential religious leader in our culture, commands, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.”

And finally for those fellow souls worshiping at the altar of rock n’ roll, the King himself, Elvis Presley, sums up the matter with, “Don’t criticize what you don’t understand, son. You never walked in that man’s shoes.”

I’m pretty sure he ended his quote with a hearty, “Thank-ya very much.”

Until recently I was under the impression these views were outdated and possibly obsolete. I saw division at every corner. I saw fear. Worse, I saw an entire population championing this division and fear. Actually boasting about its inability to cooperate and even consider opposing views. It was the complete opposite of the 1960’s. Instead of “smile on your brother, everybody get together, try to love one another right now,” we had “get away from me you socialist loving hippy and take your liberal agenda with you.”

I thought there was no hope.

But a recent visit to our great state by presidential candidate Barack Obama changed my thinking. Obama, a Democrat, spoke before a packed house in arguably the most Republican state in the nation. His message strayed from the usual partisan division and concentrated on unifying people and bringing our country together. Obama spoke of actually working with Republicans and, gasp, other nations! He spoke of bringing forth change by casting away the labels so revered by political parties and moving toward a future of cooperation.

The strange thing is nobody booed him. Nobody cried out “stick to the left” and “stay true to the party.” It was quite the opposite. The crowd loved him, and his message of unity and finding common bonds struck a chord with every person present.

So maybe I’m not alone. Maybe others are tired of labeling everything, splitting everyone apart and living in fear. Perhaps the masses are finally willing to embrace the common humanity we all share and truly become a “United States.” It remains to be seen just how far Obama’s message of unity will take him. The charismatic senator could end up anywhere from the White House to the outhouse. Either way he struck a chord with millions of people and possibly ignited a movement toward change in our government and beyond.

Is it possible this message of unity is not so outdated after all? Is there still hope for “labelacholics” like me? Can we truly find a way to, “Love one another right now?” I honestly don’t know the answer. I just hope this talk today provides you with a simple way to improve your everyday life. If you’re like me and tend to, ahem, judge unnecessarily, perhaps you can take time to peel off the labels and reach the true soul residing just below the surface.

Earlier this morning April entertained us with a song entitled “One World.” It’s a favorite among the Ward family, a song of hope and unity performed by the “Celtic Woman” ensemble. I particularly love the beautiful message contained within the chorus. I often recall this chorus when I need a little “compassion reminder.” I use it as a mantra of sorts, allowing its message to steer me in a positive direction.

The chorus states, “We’re all part of one world. We all can share the same dream. And if you just reach out to me, then you will find, deep down inside, I’m just like you.”

Please keep this wonderful message close to your heart the next time you are confronted by a chain-smoking lawyer throwing trash out of his SUV while tailing your bumper on the interstate. Cast out that desire to rant and rave. Try closing your eyes instead. Unclench those fists, peel off those labels and truly look with compassion. You might recognize what you see.

I stand before you today ready and willing to change my ways. Dedicated to peeling off the labels and approaching the world with a new sense of compassion. Committed to casting out fear and prejudice and making room for true sharing. For true community. For true love.

Will you join me?

Good night and tip your waitress, kiddies!

- Dave

Old school

Well it happened. I finally hit the big 3-0 today. I've joined the ranks of the middle aged, the silver foxes, the oldies-but-goodies. I've ventured full-force into the land of kids, pets and big Saturday plans at Home Depot, and maybe Bed Bath and Beyond, if there's time. I've left behind the wild days of reckless youth. The booze. The babes. Livin' life on the edge and never caring about The Man or his danged world ....

Oh, who am I kidding?! I never lived that life! Truth be told, I've always been a boring 30-year-old trapped in a young man's body. I married my high school sweetheart, bought a house right out of college and spent my "wild" 20's working and watching football (and not necessarily in that order). In all actuality, I'm relieved to finally be 30. Now I can be as boring as I please and I won't have any pressure to change. I won't feel any societal push to spend time in closet-sized bars squished between about 3,000 people, holding a warm beer and inhaling enough second-hand smoke to kill a herd of elephants. Better yet, I won't have to pretend that it's fun!

No one will ever care that I am an absolute dimwit at parties. I can slide seamlessly from the "weird dude who keeps talking about his kid," to the old guy that loves his family. I don't have to pretend that I have an ounce of coolness ever again! Hallelujah! The pressure's off baby! I can be as boring and dull as I wanna be. I might even go all out, slip on some spectacles and a pair of suspenders, and reel off endless stories with no point whatsoever. This is beautiful!

Here's another harsh truth -- My 20's were a disaster. I spent the entire decade in a career that I hated and trying to be somebody that I wasn't. I was often a miserable person to be around, and I just never got my act together.

So I welcome my 30's. I welcome a fresh new start and a chance to set things right again. These past three years have been a whirlwind, but taking care of Michael each and every day has finally forced me to mature and become an actual adult. It's about time! I plan to utilize these next few years to find my path and live a life that brings happiness to myself and others. True happiness. Not the "Dude I drank until 4 a.m. and I'm so hung over. You should have been there!" happiness.

You young whippersnappers can have that!

Be good kiddies!

- Dave