Arguments Not Helpful - What's Happened to Us?

I haven't posted to this blog in a long time. My first post here in a while was going to be a sort of year in review thing – and I will be doing that. A response to yesterday's tragedy http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-20738025 is in order.

First of all, I think President Obama said it best when when he stated what was on my heart yesterday, what lingers today and will remain for some time to come. “We’ve endured too many of these tragedies in the past few years.  And each time I learn the news I react not as a President, but as anybody else would -- as a parent.  And that was especially true today.  I know there’s not a parent in America who doesn’t feel the same overwhelming grief that I do.” Overwhelming grief indeed.

“We’ve endured too many of these tragedies in the past few years.” Seven mass shootings in the United States this year alone. The response from humans that I know has been mostly focused on thinking about our own children, grieving for the victims and their families. As it should be probably, but also – in the words of James Brown “... I heard a disturbing sound!”

What was most disturbing was the (now inevitable) rage and counter rage between gun rights advocates and gun control advocates. I understand the rage. It's a natural response to a violent tragedy and part of a grieving process. The thing I don't understand is the inevitable defensiveness and vehement arguments that have ensued each time this kind of tragedy occurs.

The tone of the arguments often – if not always – take on angry and extreme points of view. In one case yesterday, I saw a comic book writer - of all people - tweet a few words (after shock, prayers and heartfelt sorrow) in support of “sensible gun control. We need this now.” The first argument to him came a few minutes later and asked about whether he advocated “banning baseball bats” for deaths occur in the US due to baseball bat violence, apparently. Other gun rights advocates jumped in and had like things to say. Most of the arguments from gun rights advocates either assume that gun control involves banning guns completely, disarming “law-abiding gun owners” and taking their guns away or a slippery-slope argument (hate the words slippery-slope when put together! Rrrrr!) that ends in the question “where does it stop!?” Sometimes, Adolf Hitler or Stalin are invoked as an argument for the slippery-slope. Arguments like this were all over the Internet yesterday (although Hitler and Stalin were thankfully missing from anywhere I read).

The comic book writer in question (and many others) decried a health care system and mental health care system that is broken, overwhelmed and overly expensive. No arguments ensued and no answers were given from gun rights advocates for that collection of problems.  The biggest gun control legislation that I ever remember were the Brady Handgun Violence Protection Act and the Federal Assault Weapons Ban. The Brady Act took a little less than 12 years to enact and its effectiveness was undermined by the Supreme Court when it basically made it unenforceable. Neither of these laws led down a slippery-slope – no matter which party was in power. No one's guns were taken away and no complete gun ban has ever been established in the US (or proposed, as far as I know).

I have a prediction that I hope will not come true. I predict that all of the Sunday talk shows tomorrow will have a guest from the NRA (or a gun rights advocate who holds an extreme view) as well as a left wing person who advocates an extreme view of very tight gun control.  A “debate” will ensue where no one will be convinced of the other's view. The producers and hosts of the show will be convinced that they will have done their civic duty presenting both sides of the argument. Yet, like the election we just had – where 90% of the information we got from either party was fabricated lies (a total fabrication on my part – I beg someone to prove me wrong – really – please) – we'll end up right where we were – just angrier at what we THINK our neighbors and friends believe.

False equivalency is not helpful. Our society is broken if all we can do is present specious arguments to each other that are both meaningless and have no basis in common experience (wait a minute, that's sort of a definition of specious).

I don't believe that ANYONE thinks that seven mass shootings – not to mention thousands of gun related deaths of individuals – per year is acceptable. If all we can do is argue vehemently about things that aren't true, we'll never make any change. I plead with you to demand from lawmakers and those in positions that have influence over change to begin to try to really understand what the problems are – then listen – listen. Listen to what solutions might work and why they might not work – not in a perfect world – not in Hitler's world – not in Stalin's world – not down some stupid fucking slope! Let's put down the Hitler dolls and our cold dead hands and make some real changes. I don't know whether that means Tension Tamer Tea distributed freely, meditation in schools or $5000 bullets. Sitting around waiting for the next horrifying tragedy to happen is not working.

Corey Guthrie: Happy Birthday

At the risk of turning my blog into a memorial page, let me tell you a little bit about my nephew.  It would have been his 28th birthday today.  Corey seemed to take on life with a sort of happy, bold tenacity.  Everything he did he seemed to bring huge passion and joy.

He went from being a kid that I liked hanging out with, reading, going to movies, playing ball in the yard to being a genuine hero to me.  In his early life, I learned how cool it might be to be a father from him.

He jumped into his career with a drive like no other.  I felt like I was always saying “He’s doing WHAT now?!”   Army Intelligence training, serving in Germany, later at the NSA, Iraq, and probably some places that he didn’t tell me about. I was amazed and proud of my nephew.  I was further struck when a huge line of co-workers from his last job at the National Ground Intelligence Center came to his funeral.  Most of them had personal stories or memories of him and had come to tell his family how much this young man meant to them, meant to their work, meant to our service people in the field and to our country.

The last time I think I talked to him at length was when he was helping my son, Jason decide how to approach his military career.  Actually, the last time I spoke to him, we were chatting online about how I didn’t call the last time I was in Virginia.  He was indignant at first, but then he started showing me pictures of his dog and his latest motorcycle.

Happy Birthday, Corey.  I miss you terribly.  Godspeed, little man!

Love, Uncle Bill

Geshe Tsulga: A Fond Remembrance

Geshe Tsulga and Lama Zopa in Boston

My daughter was three when she met Geshe Tsulga at Milarepa Center.  I think she called him “Dalai Lama.”  I had pictures of both Geshe-la and His Holiness the Dalai Lama at home, but it was easy to get the two confused – similar haircuts, clothes, etc.  She enjoyed the Werther’s candies he shared with her and the other children that were there that day.  Maddy still remembers meeting him (and the candy), even after almost a dozen years.  I think that may have been the last time I saw Geshe Tsulga, too.  I took a more “worldly” turn in my life soon after that and let my Dharma practice waver and nearly disappear from my life for a number of years.

 Last summer, my life took a few new turns.  My wife and I divorced and I moved across town so we could share custody of our daughter and she could walk to school from either home. I don’t know how my change of address got to Milarepa Center, but I was getting the newsletter again and I found them on Facebook.  When they announced the fall 2010 visit of Lama Zopa, I was strongly considering going to see him.  Tragically, my nephew was killed in a motorcycle accident in August and although it probably would have done me good to spend time in the presence of Lama Zopa, Geshe Tsulga and other loving friends from many years ago, I really couldn’t pull myself together at that time to go.  When I saw pictures and realized that Geshe Tsulga was ill, I really wish that I had made the effort to go.

When I heard about Geshe Tsulga’s death in November, it hit me a little harder and a little differently than I thought it might.  I’ve been looking through notes I took at his teachings and been remembering Geshe-la fondly – his first summer at Milarepa in 1993 through that day of teachings that I brought Madeleine to several years later.  I was only able to take one week-long retreat with Geshe Tsulga. It was an Avalokiteśvara retreat in the summer of 1994. Martha Tack was director of Milarepa Center then and Larry Howe was maintaining the buildings and grounds.

The retreat was intense, powerful and wonderful. I don’t know if every retreat engenders a strong bond between the retreaters and teacher.  My notes for the retreat are few, mostly because our time was spent in practice.  I was not forward thinking enough to write anyone’s name down. Are any of you out there?  Do any of you remember being at that retreat?  As odd as it might be to say after all this time, I miss you.  I especially miss my “sister” Kathleen (?) from Montreal (embarrassed that I’m not even sure of your first name and we’re supposedly related).  Maybe it was Avalokiteśvara, maybe it was the intensity of the retreat, maybe it was Geshe-la, I don’t know, but I remember the heat, the back pain, the development of my practice, the quiet, the gardening, the laughter, the love of that week like it was last week sometimes.  I also remember the presence of Geshe Tsulga – even when he wasn’t in the room guiding or teaching us or answering our questions - even when we were washing dishes or working in the garden or reading on the lawn.  I don’t know what anyone else experienced, but I felt like he was with us all the time.  Was that just my feeling?  Is that true in many retreats?  Was that something unique to Geshe Tsulga?

After Lama Zopa’s recent stroke and my returning to practice, I began to have dreams again.  The dreams featured some memories and people, mainly from this retreat; Geshe-la, Martha, Larry, my “sister” friend Kathleen and friends from other times (Peter, Pascale…).  The dreams are peaceful and vivid and happy.  Many of you know the blind turtle and the yoke in the ocean image of a fortunate human rebirth, I feel that much more fortunate to have had that week with Geshe Tsulga, and my fellow retreaters.  Why did it take 17 years to say thank you?  Thank you.

Geshe Tsulga might rather I’d spend my time practicing and working toward Enlightenment for the sake of all sentient beings, rather than writing nice things about him.  If that is in fact what he’d rather I’d be doing, I guess I’d better get on with it.  I also thought, though, that if there are others of you out there like myself who drifted away, think about the great fortune and love that brought these teachers to us, smile and be thankful that they ever came into your life.  They may come back into your life in a way you don’t expect.  They did with me.  I will think of Geshe Tsulga every time I light a candle or incense, every time I think of my Chenrezig practice, every time I hear certain syllables (there’s something he often used to say in Tibetan at the end of a passage of teachings that I sometimes hear in other voices and I smile – does that make sense to anyone else?), every time I work in a garden, every time I visit Milarepa Center, every time I sit down to practice.

On Easter Sunday this year – the first spring-like day after a long winter, I sang Vivaldi’s “Gloria” with The Unitarian Church Choir (with a chamber orchestra) here in Montpelier.  My daughter, Madeleine was there (I got a teenager to come to a 10:00am church service – no small feat).  The service was all about the rebirth of life – spring after winter, life beyond grief, resurrection after death.  There has been a lot of mourning in my life in the last year or so, but also some great new life.  Here was a time to acknowledge the great joy and welcome new life.  I had gotten notice earlier in the weekend that Lama Zopa Rinpoche had suffered a stroke and students all over the world were praying for him. The only time I had the good fortune of meeting Lama Zopa Rinpoche was in Boston for a Medicine Buddha Initiation. Later that Easter Sunday, I thought it fitting that I return to Dharma practice by starting with what he taught me and pray for his health and long life.  Rebirth within rebirth on a day celebrating rebirth.  I’m rejoicing while watching Lama Zopa’s health return.  May it continue! 

Thank you for being in my life, Geshe Tsulga!

Love to all,

Bill Paine, Thubten Nyinge

Fantasy Baseball

I don’t know why I remember this.  It is a mystery to me as well as it will be to you.  Thirty years ago, I was working on some set of some community theater play in Holley Hall in Bristol, Vermont with that wholly remarkable company known as “The Committee”.  I don’t remember which production, for it could have been several – that’s where my memory is lacking in detail.  Michael Gleason, Jonathan Billings (I’m not using pseudonyms, for the story is not in the least bit controversial – to me) and I were “painting flats” or “mache –ing” something or otherwise trying to look like we were accomplishing something worthwhile on the production, when the conversation inevitably turned to (those of you who know Michael and Jonathan say now in unison…) baseball.  My comparative lack of knowledge on the subject usually forced me to nod, smile, guffaw, “hmm,” or otherwise acknowledge bits of wisdom from my friends as these exchanges usually went on through hot summer afternoons.

This time, Michael decided to mix it up.  He had read a book about some guy who had developed a fantasy baseball league in his head and in tabletop form.  The novel goes on to describe how the main character has cards for every player, team, stadium, history, etc.  The protagonist randomizes, to every last detail, the weather, the pitches, the injuries, yada, yada, yada… Michael passionately goes on to describe how this character begins to really live more in his fantasy game than in real life and begins to go insane when some tragedy strikes one of his favorite players.  Michael brings me into the conversation because he knows that I’m a major High School Dungeons and Dragons geek.  He supposed that he knew that there were urban legends about D&D geeks who had become satan worshipers and killed their friends or run off trying to slay dragons and stuff, so I thought that he thought I might have some insight into the psychology of this character.  I probably didn't shed much light on the matter.  I hadn't known anyone to really run off to slay dragons.  The worst we thought up was to maybe try to scare each other by threatening to play a game in the cemetery on Halloween or something.  

I think that Michael also knew that some friends and I had invented our own geeky games that were “much more sophisticated” than “stupid D&D.” He was wondering if he could develop a baseball simulator that had the kind of detail that the guy in this novel did.  By this time, Jonathan had started chanting “Strat-O-Matic!” – First, under his breath, then louder, and still louder and finally loud enough to interrupt the rehearsal that was onstage nearby.  We continued outside.  Jonathan kept saying “drive up to Cassler’s Toys and pick up a Strat-O-Matic set!”  For many years after this, I had thought that Michael was talking about a dumb novel he picked up at a yard sale somewhere and that no one else had ever heard of this book.

Forward to 2010.  Dirk Hayhurst is the guest on an NPR call-in program one afternoon talking about his book, The Bullpen Gospels (good book, by the way) about his life in minor league baseball.  The callers to the show are encouraged to list their 5 favorite baseball books of all time.  Imagine my surprise, among most of the listeners' top 5 is a little book called The Universal Baseball Association, Inc., J. Henry Waugh, Prop  by Robert Coover.  It’s a book about this guy who goes crazy over his fantasy baseball team!  Huh.  Not only is Michael's book more widely read than I thought, it's actually a favorite among baseball readers.  Who knew!?  Not me.

A new footnote to this story:  I just heard a story on CBC radio that there is a new book out about Jack Kerouac and his obsession with fantasy baseball.  Here’s a NY Times article about the book: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/05/16/books/16kero.html .  Cool, huh?

My first post

Hey, audience!  This is my first blog post.  Way back in the mists of ancient time, when I was a young father, schools were all up in arms (pardon the pun) about weapons and potential violence.  Columbine was fresh in many peoples' minds.  My son and his mother were shopping at some point during this time and she pointed out a lovely Swiss Army knife (or something like that - I don't honestly remember) and asked him if he would like to get it.  His reply was something like "I don't think 'Captain Safety' will let me use something like that - referring to me.  Captain Safety was born!  I love that boy.  Hope he has a chin strap for his helmet...

I hope to use this blog to babble on and on and on... Some of you know that I can babble incessantly.  You'll be happy that your Inbox will only contain links that you can safely ignore now and know that I have this wonderful outlet for my incessant ravings thoughts.  Thanks for reading this far.  Enjoy.