Cyber Sticks and Stones are Hurtful

“Sticks and Stone may break my bones, but names can never hurt me”. My mother used to make me recite that over and over whenever I came home from school with hurt feelings from some quip by a verbal sword-smith. I did it, but being the person I was and probably still am, the words lingered around my legs like a low lying fog ready to trip me up a any second.

Recently, another child has taken their life due to cyber bullying. This was a 15-year-old girl in Massachusetts (read the story: http://tinyurl.com/yeox9tk ).

Bullying, teasing, trash-talking is not a new sport for the teenage crowd. The new cyber frontier and cellular text land is a dangerous place for our kids these days. These taunts go beyond the name-calling of 30-plus years ago. They are so inappropriate in language and accusation that I can’t even type an example. And things on the Internet can live forever. That is why the devastation can result in such dramatic results as suicide. The unfortunate truth is much of the verbal slash and slang begins with hurt feelings and spins and warps into untruths that spiral and viral into outlandish lies.

(This is one reason why I discourage chat rooms on youth pages on a website. Unless you have a twenty-four hour cyber-monitor, your forum can turn into an unwanted unintentional problem. It can even go as far as to make your organization or church liable should violence ensue.)

Where your organization or church CAN make a difference is through working as a mediator when cyber/text conflict arises. I recently watched a PBS special on teen girl violence. Where boys may walk away after a fight, girls let it fester and this festering is the seed that can spiral out of control into physical or cyber-violence. The answer needed to calm girls from this destruction seemed to be the simple, earnest apology.

What has happened to us that we can’t say those words? We don’t seem to know how to apologize or how to admit a mistake. As I type this blog, I hear the voice of the television commentator recanting recent stories with the Tiger Woods saga. Here is a stellar example of where telling the truth, saying you’re sorry and admitting a mistake would have left a lot of air time open on our tv’s.

We need to teach our young people and apparently, ourselves, the powerful tools of apology and admittance of wrong. The more we run from these strong tenets of decorum, the more we degrade society and lean ever closer a land of chaff where wheat will not grow.

Trash Talk

You don’t have spend time in a gas station bathroom to read trash about people you don’t even know….

A new book disclosing campaign secrets and admissions by top politicians is flooding the news. Tiger has been exposed for his indiscretions; Mark McGwire has a mea culpa about his steroid usage. All these little tattle segments flooding our airways, newspapers, TVs, tweets reflect a couple of things:

1. The world is moving along okay. No big disasters or tragedies at present or
2. Our society’s brains have cycled to auto-pilot and the technical nonsensical input and output jargon of ‘garbage-in garbage-out’ has polluted our lives and lifestyles… and
3. Folks are making a tidy sum exposing gossip, missteps, and bad behavior.

It is difficult to create good results when given bad input. The term: garbage-in garbage-out. Defined by Wikipedia as a phrase in the field of computer science or information primarily used to call attention to the fact that computers will unquestioningly process the most nonsensical of input data (Garbage in) and produce nonsensical output (Garbage out). Wikipedia also highlights another term off of the garbage-in garbage-out phrase, “Garbage In, Gospel Out” based on the tendency to put excessive trust in “computerized” data. People have a tendency to believe what they read or see on their computer regardless the source. I don’t know if this is the source for all this plethora of gossip, but we are sure getting an abundant crop recently.

We seem to be producing a great deal of garbage-out MORE garbage-out. When did sharing or spewing gossip become such a past-time? It is sad but true that today our societal missteps are gathered up like precious gold nuggets to be profited on by complete strangers. That’s what happened to all those people we’re hearing and reading about. They did not set out to wind up as tabloid fodder. They didn’t intend for this information to become part of your life or my life. It happened.

There are 1, 610, 000 internet gossip sites. Many are focused on celebrities but there is a rise in sites targeting just about everything. GossipReport.com allows you to share dirt on co-workers. Sick of your neighbor? RottenNeighbor.com lets you publicly out that bad person on your block. You can dish or destroy just about anyone on any topic. College campuses and local schools are rampant with gossips posts and texts consuming the young brains of our country, unfortunately destroying many young egos and in some cases, lives.

Controlling this overwhelming trend begins with us, you and me. It starts with our personal censorship and self-control. It then moves to discussions among our family, especially our children; then our friends and co-workers, to groups we deem influential, like our church. The old adage “sticks and stones can break my bones but names can never hurt us” is not true anymore. The Internet is our new bathroom wall. It’s a nasty commentary of our lives and somebody needs to wash our mouths out with soap.

The Light Bulb

How many _____ does it take to change a light bulb? It’s an old joke. Of course, the punch line is “CHANGE?!!”

I’m typing on my laptop as I load programs on to my new ‘big brain’ computer; not a PC this time, it’s an --- shhh— Apple! I’m finally through fighting the viruses, crashes, and all the other stuff that comes with the territory. Mind you, I will still deal with these issues as my new super-duper Apple has a cross-platform where I can run a Windows operating system. Why? Because all the business software I purchased just a few months ago is for a Windows system.

Change. It’s sure easier to say than do. That’s why the old joke is funny. It’s true and a dilemma. Sometimes no matter how much we want or desire or need to change, the process is so darn hard. I desire to walk completely away from a PC system but don’t have the total funding to do this. I must still wade in the water of Windows to hope and work toward the day I can be totally free of my old system.

It’s very reflective of the many aspects we all deal with as we step the stones of life. Change is possible but it must be a deliberate process. It can be a difficult process, so difficult, we sometimes succumb to our old habits. We may know things are bad but the process of change becomes a greater challenge than living with the problem.

I’ve spent the past 34 days painting and scraping plaster. It’s not something I do on a regular basis. I’ve been working to change a house. I hope I never have to do it again but the probability is there will be another paint brush in my future. It’s been a drag and I can’t quite see the outcome as this point in time, but I feel the journey has been fruitful. Like the computer, working towards something new and different with a new home, has been unchartered; at times, stressful, and definitely requiring labor.

Change requires focus, deliberate action, intent toward a goal, and physical/mental movement away from the current status. While I have been doing ‘my change’ over the past 34 days, I’ve wondered what ever made me think this was a good idea. This process is dreadful. My body aches. My checkbook is sagging. Sometimes I feel I have more paint on my clothes than on the wall. I have involved myself in a process where the situation cannot revert back to its old way. After all, my tub, now gone, was living on my curb waiting for the trash man who carried it away right after Christmas and my toilet is still sitting on my patio. I could turn the toilet in to a planter, but there are still those holes I’m staring in the bathroom where my tub and toilet used to reside. I can’t use the facility in its current state, so I must forge ahead.

I leave this entry pondering, is change better served and achieved when it is impossible to return to the former state? When you can’t go back, you must forge ahead. After all, you don’t have to know how many people it takes to change the light bulb if it’s now an LED.

A Charlie Brown Christmas

ABC television aired “A Charlie Brown Christmas” last night. After a long day of fighting Baton Rouge traffic in search of carpeting and a bean bag chair (details will be spared), I tumbled in to my motorhome to sit down with my TV dinner and television to relax from the day. “A Charlie Brown Christmas” was airing. The Peanuts gang after 40-plus years frolic and tease each other just as they did when I was a child. It brought back many memories and a sense of comfort. What is Christmas really about anyway? Yes, the birth of our risen Lord, but what is it really about to you? Come on, admit it. If Christmas were truly the celebration of Christ’s birth and only that, wouldn’t we handle this mega-holiday in a different fashion? Christmas is a very complex holiday. I believe Charles Schultz’s characters portray a thumbnail of all those complicated facets from the baby in the manger to presents under the tree, caroling, food, parties, cards, etc. My Christmas is uncomplicated this year. No tree, no card, no presents. Moving during the holiday time is very strange. Instead of writing Christmas notes or wrapping presents, I’m painting, searching for carpet and selecting new faucets.

My life is very sans Christmas. Oh I do see signs of Christmas, especially in decorations, mostly outside lighting. There’s a doozie complete with a radio station to tune in to on the last ¼ mile to the campground. Yesterday’s trip to the mall engaged my senses with holiday music and Santa and people shopping, sales clerks wishing Merry Christmas at the end of my purchase of paint and brushes. But what finally made me realize Christmas was approaching was this simple ½ cartoon. It was a memory. Maybe that’s Christmas, remembering the cherished moments from childhood and life; remembering a little baby in a stable who brought love and peace and Good News; remembering blessings and joys, sorrows and wants, and many emotions we so elegantly and selectively push aside the rest of the year. That’s why Christmas is so complex. We unintentionally made it this way. Christmas is a prism casting a rainbow palette of refracted light that splays open the crevasses of our heart when we allow those shadows to be exposed. Sometimes the shadows contain absolute joy and other times deep sorrow or disappointment.

If you dare, unwrap your private heart of Christmas and rediscover or explore what this season truly means to you. It might be your best present this year.

Gratefulness

Taking my five minutes to breathe in and out and just be while working through a major move, I continue to hold to my five minutes of being grateful, at peace, and accept whatever is going on in my life at any given moment. It’s a challenge at times. Those five minutes have maintained my sanity.

What is another life saver? Having a phone that connects to the internet; being able to text; receiving email via my phone.

You may not move as often as I. You may not move 500 to 1,500 miles at a time. For those of us who find this part of our lives due to our professions, I thank God for the businesses and organizations who have embraced technology to make information easier to find for people like me.

You may never know who you are helping by providing information about your church or organization through the Internet. Just know that you are….

Contingency Plans

That high-stress holiday is coming. It’s breathing down our throats. Have you had it with the talking head gurus on TV, print and radio telling you how to contend with your relatives and keep peace in your heart if you’re gathering to break bread with people who have a tendency of getting your dander up?

While it would be much safer to stick to my profession of web and technology items, I’m straying toward emotions that pierce our patience. I’m in the midst of moving 499 miles away with thirteen people coming to sleep, eat and commune 3 days before I leave. Don’t get me wrong, I’m delighted and excited to have the family together for the first time in years.

Preparations began this weekend with purchasing and making food for the small army arriving at the door. Yesterday, after buying, cleaning, and cooking like Julia Child reincarnated; after the flour was scooped, the noodles rolled and the cooked meatballs stored, I learned 8 of the group were not coming. A death in a spouse’s family had occurred and all plans were changed.

This was of course was disheartening, unavoidable and a disappointment for everyone. A big dead space of silence overflowed the boundaries of the walls. All the work, plans, hopes, dreams visions of laughter were gone. The emptiness and pain of defeat just sat there like an uncomfortable friend.

A contingency plan was formed. Unused food was whisked back to the store, re-alignment to the menu calendar was made and my “new plan” was ready, unhappy, but ready. Low and behold, a phone call a mere two hours later changed all the plans again. The group was coming with an adjustment of time frame, minus one spouse. Thanksgiving will be salvaged for us. But it left me thinking….

It is a shame the importance the next 5 weeks have become in the stress level of our lives. Thanksgiving, Advent, Christmas, New Year’s. We sure pack it all in to one small amount of time. This year’s holiday’s occur in a total of 36 days. If you’re a multi-cultural family, you may be throwing Hanukkah and Kwanzaa in there as well. I don’t know the origin of your stress, but if you are like my family, the answer lies in between the sentences. In other words, the unspoken words none of us utter.

If my family were geographically closer, we may get together more often, who’s to say. The magnitude of this Thanksgiving was the first holiday we had all spent together in 9 years. I didn’t need a TV guru to analyze the roller coaster of emotions that happened to my family over the course of this weekend. I’d say you have similar stories with various scenarios that are quite familiar thematically in one form or another. When you attempt to cram 365 days of hopes and dreams in to 36 days, lightning is guaranteed to strike. The lightning generally gets bigger the more days that are added to the 365. Sometimes it doesn’t take 365 days for lightning; sometimes 365 hours, or 365 minutes. In any event, batten down the hatches, full steam ahead. These 36 days of flurry are coming regardless. Develop a few contingency plans and by all means, don’t get in the refund line too quick. Oh, and like last week’s blog: -BREATHE.