Another classmate passes

After returning from our trip to visit my two older daughters and the grandkids, I was reading the newspapers from the weekend. I don’t know if it’s an age thing, or what, but I look at the front page and then go to page 3 where the obits are. If nothing catches my eye there, I move on to the editorial page.

I have found page 3 to be of greater importance as time goes by. Partly, it’s more than a whistling-past-the-graveyard paranoia, because when I was in business for myself, and even working at the hospital, it was important to follow the deaths of people you may have had contact with. And, of course, those you know well.

Today, something caught my eye on page 3. I saw the obituary for William Evans. Actually, I know two guys named William Evans. This one is the older one. He was the same age as I am, 60. Each day, 60 years old seems younger and younger.

We were in school together, although we weren’t good friends. Bill Evans, who for some reason I don’t know, was known as “Jose,” and was on the edge of trouble a good bit of his younger years. He was a member of the Ramblers, a social club in high school known for their partying. He was funny, crazy and likeable. We hung with different crowds, but we knew each other. In some of the class reunions over the last several years, we talked some about the old days. Mostly, he hung with his buddies, and I hung with mine. Probably the most common thing we shared was a band called The Jades. I was in the band, and Jose knew some of the other guys (also Ramblers) pretty well, and liked our music.

Jose died of lung cancer. In 2003, he attended the class reunion. He seemed fine. Maybe he just didn’t know yet. The obit said he was preceded in death by six siblings. Damn!

Not too long ago, I had three of my classmates die in a four-week period. Not long ago, another one passed.

I’m not really too worried. I’ve always been healthy, and my last checkup was pretty good. And the longevity story goes both ways. My dad and one of his brothers and their father died pretty young. But my dad’s mother and my great uncle and my great granddad lived long. Still, it’s hard to watch your contemporaries die and not start to think a little about your own mortality.

When all is said and done, when your day comes, you don’t have much to say about it. All you can do is do the best you can, live the best life you can live, try to make a positive difference in the world while you’re here. If you’re religious, you hope there’s a God, and that He knows you. If you’re not religious, you hope there isn’t a God.

R.I.P., Jose. I hope you’re in a better place.

The bad old days

Today’s news is filled with horrible stories. Convicted pedophiles fail to register, elude authorities, kidnap, rape and murder young girls and boys. Friends and relatives of one such scumbag protected the murderer from the police while his young victim was being held in the trailer where he was staying with his relative, and these people have not been charged with a crime.

An organization calling itself the North American Man/Boy Love Association advocates sexual activity between grown men and boys as young as 8, and says it is a healthy thing for both the adults and the children. The American Civil Liberties Union is representing NAMBLA in a lawsuit linking NAMBLA’s perverse philosophy with the abuse and killing of young boys.

In several of these United States, efforts are underway to make it legal for Tom to marry Bill and for Geraldine to marry Edith. Many people believe this is the proper course for our society.

A woman either in or not in a persistent vegetative state (depending upon whom you believe) had her life ended by starvation on the sole say-so of her “husband,” who years before hooked up with, and started raising a family with another woman. Without a shred of evidence to support his claim that his “wife” would not want to live in the condition she had been in for 15 years, U.S. and Florida courts upheld this decision at every turn.

Drugs are rampant, even in junior high schools or middle schools. Pregnancy and abortion are rampant, even among girls 12 to 15 years old. Crime is a common theme in most schools and neighborhoods.

Many kids can’t read when they graduate from high school, if they do graduate. They don’t know U.S. or world history. They can’t find some states on a map. They are taught that the United States is a bad country. We are lagging behind many nations in math and science.

Things sure are different today than yesterday.

We used to leave our doors unlocked, even when we were out of town on vacation. Black people could walk freely in white neighborhoods without fear. White people could walk freely in black neighborhoods without fear.

People were polite to each other. They were more tolerant of other people and other ideas.

Folks took more pride in the way their homes and yard looked, even in the less affluent neighborhoods. They took more pride in their lives, too. Those who lost their job, or who couldn’t find the job they wanted didn’t look to government for help, they took any job they could find until something better came along. Maybe they worked two jobs. Maybe the kids who were old enough worked, too. They were too proud to take handouts. If they took assistance from charitable or religious organizations, they wanted to pay it back. Welfare was an absolute last resort.

Teenage pregnancies were rare. So were abortions. So was teenage alcohol and drug use. And divorce.

Few kids, mostly high school boys, smoked cigarettes. No one that I knew had ever heard of marijuana. Some of the “wilder” kids drank beer occasionally. Girls and boys who were sexually active had a bad reputation.

Most kids did not drive to school, hardly any had their own car, and only those who lived far away rode school buses. Most of us walked to school, rode with a parent or the parent of a friend, or took a city bus. We had to buy our own books in those days.

Boys often carried a pocketknife to school. They used them to clean their fingernails, to sharpen their pencil, or maybe just left them in their pocket. No one used the knife to steal lunch money from another student. No one cared that Joe or Freddy had a knife. Zero-tolerance regulations were unheard of, and unnecessary.

Bible classes were optional in public schools. They were taught by a religious person, but more as history than as religion. No one complained about it. No one felt they were being indoctrinated. Christmas programs with religious songs didn’t send anyone into apoplexy. Not even Jews or Hindus or Muslims. Or atheists, if any happened to be around.

If you screwed up in school, you might get paddled, and your folks got a phone call. When you got home, you probably got paddled again. No one was traumatized. We learned how to get along in the world, how to live with each other.

You could let children go to the movies, watch TV, or listen to music without being concerned about the appropriateness of the content.

You didn’t expect everything to be perfect. When life dealt you a bad hand, you didn’t go to court to blame someone for your bad luck.

Things sure are different today than yesterday.

The progressives tell us things are moving in the right direction today, only they aren’t moving fast enough.

Really?