What Happened to "The Greatest Good for the Greatest Number"?

The human experience begins with and is primarily about the individual. However, if it stops there, there is no humanity. Humanity is the persistent condition when in the end the individual is driven towards the greater composition of individuals.  Put another way, the individual's first responsibility begins with oneself, then to another, then to others (i.e. the family), then to the entire community and group of communities, and ultimately to the whole country of communities. At which point the greatest number must account for the greatest good.  The responsibility of the many is to seek, work and aspire for the good of the many.

When American democracy was born in 1776, it was hailed as a noble experiment by many around the world and an inspiration to those from the outside looking in who sought freedom from the bondage of monarchies and oligarchies that were then the prevailing systems upon which societies were held and under which individuals were the subservient entities.  American democracy not only survived its birth, it grew and flourished for almost two and a half centuries today. And today millions from around the world still consider it one of the places, if not the top destination upon which to anchor their hopes and aspirations for a better life than what they have at the present moment, wherever they are.

Two years from now in 2026 America will be 250 years old.  It will have reached that age of maturity when empires and regional civilizations attained their peak before waning; all of them  ruled either by monarchy or oligarchy. Indeed, America was the first world power to have achieved empire status that was not a monarchy or oligarchy and will likely, hopefully anyway,  defy the common path other world powers ended up with. Before then, it was Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, the Caesars, the Tzars, the Queens and Kings of Europe that powers were projected from the thrones where they sat. 

America made possible for the will of its people to be collected and collated through regularly held elections to fill both legislative houses of Congress where laws are written, signed by the president (also elected) who then wields power through the executive branch while the judiciary decides when and where there are legal disputes.  It is important to have a quick review of how a republic government works lest we forget. Worryingly, civic classes are not exactly in the top 10 list of today's high schools' priorities.  And there lies the danger.

However, the greatest peril in a democracy is when the majority no longer realizes that it is what constitutes the greatest number and that its greatest responsibility is for the greatest good of the whole.

Today, America is the most diverse in terms of the makeup of its population when compared to every other nation in the world.  You will not find such diversity anywhere else - not in Russia, China, a lot less in N. Korea and Japan, and clearly not in many places in Europe. Of course, that does not say a lot if the rights of its citizens are not equally protected. In the early stages of its inception, for a new nation, its record for allowing for the rights of those in the minority to be recognized and given equal treatment under the law was not one of its proudest moments, i.e. in the treatment of the indigenous people and blacks during the years of slavery, etc.

However long it took, and however the many ways tried, the country made amends. It did take some time. A century and a half after its founding, the country made unprecedented changes.

For the record, because this is not well known, long before the Civil Rights Act in 1964, Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) had already been established long before then; the earliest was in 1837, first as African Institute and now named the Cheyney University in Pennsylvania.  Of the 101 HBCUs today, most were founded by Protestant religious leaders.  Martin Luther King and Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall were graduates of HBCUs.

By the time of the Civil Rights Act, the country's racial healing begun. Long before Michael Jackson and Beyonce and so many black luminaries who received the embrace of the general population, lest we forget, Nat King Cole was singing Christmas carols in the 50s that sold well in record (pun intended) number and Althea Gibson became the first African American to win the French Tennis Open in 1956 and 1958 and was voted the Best Female Athlete in that year by the Associated Press; before Arthur Ashe had his signature on what became a sought after composite tennis racket in the 70s and 80s.

The Civil Rights Act cemented the country's will and determination to end racial discrimination.  Despite that, there are still too many seeds being sown today - seeds of doubt, discontent and faithlessness in the system - and the danger is that the soil upon which the seeds are thrown are being cultivated and nurtured.  But we must ask, "Why?"  But first we ask why today's political divide is still fueled with combustible ingredients of racism and ideological differences that has kept the chasm  so far apart and ever widening.

Today, if we look around, read the headlines, listen to political and social pundits, scour the social media for named and nameless proponents of one cause or another, we see and hear a multitude of grievances and aggrieved pockets of population who feel oppressed or offended. What was created was a panoply of numerous minorities - though no longer about skin color or ethnicity - who claim to be oppressed and discriminated against who want attention and relief by special accommodations and specific legal and moral protections.  However, what is not often discussed is that there are already laws in existence protecting them and everyone else simply by being citizens and law abiding members of American society.

We should recognize that equality and equity are not synonymous. Nowhere else than here that equality of opportunity is available to anyone willing to work but it must be recognized that equality of results is not guaranteed.  Equity is only available to those who   have already willingly invested something they have already earned; hence equity is not a guaranteed result unless one took the opportunity to invest.

Forty five years ago a family of four from one of the Pacific Islands came with nothing but four suitcases of clothes and a few children's toys to avail of the same opportunity available to everyone willing to take it.  I can proudly say that we are enjoying the equities earned from all those years of investing in hard work and every opportunity available but always mindful that all along we knew that results were not guaranteed except for a chance to take part in one of the greatest experiments ever tried. And it still works.

How many more "less-than-one-per-cent" pockets of groups that the majority must create special accommodations for?  It is reasonable to conclude that this country has dealt with one too many already. But the perceived wounds are often created not from a blood-gushing injury but from what starts as a small itch, rash or inflammation that could have easily been mitigated by a simple salve of common sense. But as always the case, people find a way to turn it into an infection.

No wound will heal for as long as we keep scratching the scabs.  Old wounds will seem fresh every time we scratch them and it is as if we will not stop until it bleeds once more. And there will be no end if we keep creating new rashes and itches to add to the collective sensitivities.

I hope the reader will see that in between the lines of these musing are many snippets of common sense that are often missed or ignored.

 

 

Can You See What I Hear, Can You Hear What I See?

 

Three years ago,   on my birthday, I wrote, "Why Growing Old Beats the Alternative?" I quote from that musing a paragraph, below:

If the price of the ticket to growing old are chronic pains, a bigger medicine cabinet, a thicker medical file, fading vision and straining to listen to normal conversation, or having hip or knee replacements, always keep in mind that that ticket is not due to be collected till towards the end.  So, enjoy the journey to its fullest.

I and so many of you and readers from different stages of their journey through time are now realizing, bit by bit, that the price of the ticket is accruing interest. That is because it was purchased on a term plan - paying as we go along on installment - since we couldn't have known then for how long we will use the ticket. So, we'd like to hold on to it, not quite ready to relinquish it yet,  but ever mindful of and are accepting the accrued interest as time goes by until it is due. 

Installment payments in this case are the way to go, accruing interests notwithstanding, because as always the alternative is not so great once full payment is due for collection. I hope that the reader can relate to what I write here - anecdotal episodes that make up the story of life - personal, yet universal in a way, as a basis upon which most of you may reflect on the many stages of growing old or older and how we deal with the inevitable challenges of aging. The good news is that we are living today in an age where technology and modern medicine work together to help us navigate the one and only direction available to us because no one is exempt from the movement of time.

It must have been close to four decades ago, still very much actively playing tennis, when I noticed little changes.  It was usually after work  that most of my tennis were played with the same players from my subdivision with similar work schedules, which meant playing as the sun was about to set. 

The tennis court lights which ran on timer and light sensors didn't come on until the sun did its  slow descent below the horizon. I noticed that I wasn't hitting the tennis ball as well as when I played on weekends which are usually in the mornings or mid afternoon.  

Some months later my driver's license came due for renewal about a month or so before my birthday.  The renewal letter required that I appear  in person (as opposed to renewal by mail) for a vision test since it's been years since the last one.  

"You failed the test", said the lady behind the counter. I protested that that can't be right.   "I drove to the license office, didn't I"? Then I quickly added, "I can read the words on that poster by the far end at that wall there and I can read the finest print you have".  She replied, "Go on, read it".  I did.

She took out her pocket Bible from her drawer.  She opened to a page I'm sure she was very familiar with - John Chapter 11.  She said, "Read the shortest verse you can find", handing me the Book.  I read on Verse 35, "Jesus wept".  I wept silently with joy for proving my case.

"Okay, I'll renew your license but I think you need to see an optometrist".

It was about three weeks later that I went to the optical clinic  just a block away from where I worked.  I was given a full vision test.  The optometrist said, "You need prescription glasses". I responded with the same tone I had at the driver's license office and asked, "Why?". 

The optometrist replied, "It's  about getting old, welcome to the club. However, in your case, one eye became nearsighted, the other farsighted.  One in 30,000 adults get that, but don't hold me to the exact statistics. I mean it's rare but it happens. You were able to get by because one eye was seeing far and the other near, complementing each other, so to speak. On the other hand, you may have been born that way, perhaps. But you lack depth perception". 

Aha, I thought to myself.  That was why I wasn't hitting the tennis ball as well as I used to, especially at dusk as it got darker.  I agreed to have the prescription glasses. That was my first introduction to interest accrual in the bookkeeping of life.

Three weeks later, the glasses came. I picked them up and had another visual test and for some adjustment on the temple and nose bridge, etc. Back at the office, the  huge trading room, to my amazement, looked like a different place.  The whole third of the entire floor was open concept design where all the desks were arranged from end to end with only low dividers in between. Everybody's face at the far end of the room looked crisply recognizable. It was like everything was in 3-D. I might be exaggerating now but indeed it felt like I had 3-D glasses on, the way my views of the world around me had changed, literally speaking that is.

For years that followed, I kept playing tennis though with mixed results. Improved vision notwithstanding, aches and pains, my opponents were getting better, a few more birthdays and my reflexes were a tad slower, not as quick with my legs as I used to - became my new realities. But technology on eye wear continued to improve with featherweight frames and transition lenses (that would turn gray to dark when exposed to sunlight and back to clear once indoor), bifocals with no visible lines (for vanity sake, no doubt), etc. Not so bad, but with a lot of good.

One evening, it was late, a tennis buddy, who was originally from Holland, and I finished playing one sweltering July summer night when he suggested we take a dip into the adjoining community pool.  I said the pool was locked for the night.  He said, "So?". Like excited teenagers which we were not by two decades removed, at least, we climbed over the fence.  He dove first and I followed. I felt pain on my left ear when I surfaced.

I couldn't sleep that night from a throbbing pain in my left ear.  The next morning at work I went to the medical department that was on one floor of the building (this was in the early 80's when our company still maintained a fully-staffed medical office). One look from the doctor and he said, "What did you do to your eardrum?" He concluded that I  perforated my left eardrum when I dove into the pool, after I told him about the night before. I skipped the part about climbing over the fence.

That was accrued interest of my own doing that I found out later to have more lasting collateral effect.

A few more years later I had surgery on that ear to fix the hole because of chronic ear infection. The surgeon took a tiny tissue from the inside part of the ear drum to patch the hole that was on the outside, a complicated micro-surgery that decades earlier was unheard of. The scarred tissue on the eardrum is still noticeable to every doctor who looked into that ear years later. So they had to hear the same story, to their amusement except for  one doctor who was prompted to say, "I've heard of all kinds of stories from patients but this tops the cake. Not so much about shattered eardrums but  adults, who should know better, climbing over a fence to get into a pool at night is a first". I agree totally. 

Another decade passed.  I had surgery on my right wrist. So I can keep playing tennis. The surgery helped but another few years later I switched playing lefty because the right wrist can't handle it anymore. But it brought another problem. Changing my serving stance and hitting the ball lefty apparently did not set well with the other parts of my body - the one to lead the protest was my left Achilles tendon. This was accrued interest plus amortized asset depreciation.

The orthopedic doctor sat me down for some serious conversation after a third visit for the same problem. He asked, "How much do you want to keep on playing tennis?"  Silently I said to myself, "What kind of a question is that?"  But I said, "I love to keep playing  I even switched playing lefty when my right wrist no longer could".

The doctor said, "Wrong answer", he said. "Look, if you keep playing, your Achilles tendon will give up and the surgery I will do is not so you can keep playing tennis but just so you can walk. I strongly suggest you find another way to stay fit".  The office was quiet but I heard the thunder clap that followed when he said it. Accrued interest and some penalties for late payments?

The drive home was miserable but it called for some serious introspection. And by the time I got out of the car in our driveway I was at peace with saying goodbye to tennis. A few months later was when I switched to swimming. Of course, the painful memory of the perforated eardrum came to intrude but modern day ear plugs designed for swimming took care of that. I've been swimming for nearly twenty years now, doing the 1000 meters free style non-stop for 25 minutes, plus/minus a few seconds.  

I summarize that part of my life this way. I had  fun playing tennis and enjoyed it but the best that ever happened was when I could no longer play and quit and the best thing to have followed was when I took up swimming.

But the accrued interest over the left ear drum had turned red on the ledger of aging. Finally I agreed to have a hearing test.

The ear doctor had to ask, "What brought you in today?" I don't know why doctors still have to ask when they are reading the chart that says exactly why you're there. I said, "My wife says I need to have my hearing tested".

"Ah, yes, I know. I'm a husband too".

"Why is it that it is always wives that is the reason husbands go to see the doctor or have our hearing tested?", I exaggerated, hoping for the doctor to take sides with me.

"Well, it's spouses generally speaking but the majority of our referrals do come from the wives".

"Why is that?"

"For one thing, they want to remove any doubt you are not simply selectively hearing what they say. Secondly, they want to make sure, 'I didn't hear you', is no longer a valid excuse".  He was kidding, the doctor added. I know he wasn't.  Then he went on to examine both ears.

Again, the scar on my left eardrum did not go unnoticed. However, there was no time for me to tell the swimming pool story, as the audiologist came to whisk me away to another room for the hearing test.

The test. She had me wear a set of headphones.  I was to press a button on a hand held device every time I heard a sound which could come from either left or right of the head set at random. There were high pitch tones, middle range ones and low frequency notes. Some tones were stronger than others, and some were barely audible.  And for sure there were tones I didn't hear at all.

After several minutes of it the test was over.  The results were printed in a two-page chart.  I was able to click the buttons only 68% of the time on my left ear but better than 90% on my right. What I was missing the most were high frequency tones on my left and mid frequency sounds, typically of women's and children's speaking voices.  My own unbiased conclusion: I have unassailable excuse not to hear my wife very well when she is speaking to me because female and children's voices are in that critical frequency range my left ear had trouble picking up specially when she's in one room talking while in front of her desk top computer while I am in the next room.  By her account I should be able to hear if she can see me when she turns around.  It doesn't matter that I myself was focused on typing away on my laptop (like writing this musing, for example). I have not shared that conclusion with anyone till now.

First the eyeglasses, now the dreaded hearing aid? The audiologist explained to allay any apprehension on my part that today's technology has come so far from what it used to be. Advances in microchip technology, bluetooth pairing of hearing aids to smartphones, precise measurements, tiny rechargeable batteries so that the weight of the whole hearing device" is literally imperceptible to the wearer, etc., are all available.  While premature hearing loss has many causes,  everyone will have it in varying degrees with aging.  It is gradual, hardly noticeable by the individual because in one good way most will cope or get by. As with eyesight most will feel fine and not notice unless they go through the testing procedure.  In other words hearing loss is not usually earth shaking.

There are over ten million people in the U.S. today who have hearing aids, relatively a small fraction of the population. However, some estimates indicate that there are several times that number who have degraded hearing in various stages that, like me, get by in their normal daily lives with little serious consequences, indeed. This is one accrued interest that can easily be overlooked in the accounting ledger of aging.

The need for hearing aid is for the most part optional because one can always ask, "Please say that again", turn the TV louder or opt for closed caption; or both, unless it is so severe as to be classified from extreme hearing loss to total deafness. The latter is hardly the case.  The degree of hearing loss has brought three levels at which hearing aids may be prescribed or designed.

Three weeks after the audio test, the hearing aid I ordered came. It was in the middle range in sensitivity and pricing (naturally). The fitting session lasted for forty minutes.  First, the audiologist made calibrated measurements of the hearing aids with a machine that showed on the screen some sort of sine waves and numbers, attenuation data, etc. She made me practice putting them in and out of my ears, then a primer on how and when to charge them on the charger, etc. With one little instrument she measured the shape and volume of the ear canal (apparently because it's different from person to person, customization of the feedback is necessary).Then she made me wear a headband with both ends that touch both my temples as I looked in front of a screen. I was not to move, focusing on the blue dot, while she fiddled with different tones. Not quite sure what the test was for but it must have been that the hearing aid can be tuned so as to let the wearer discriminate sounds during conversation with someone while sounds and noises around, say, at a restaurant or any crowded places, are de-emphasized.  It was really quite sophisticated, it really surprised me.

She had to leave the room, briefly she said, while I had the aids on.  Her office was so quiet but then I could hear the ticking of the second hand on the wall clock. She must have left the room intentionally, I surmised. I told her about the ticking sound of the clock when she re-entered the room. I heard her footsteps on the padded carpet. She said, "You see, you can hear it and I don't anymore because my brain has come to ignore it.  You'll be hearing more than what you couldn't in the past but some of those your brain will learn to ignore, including what seems like an echo of your own voice. 

I could hear the paper when she slid them across  her desk for me to sign. I had thirty days to try the hearing aids and if I decided it's not for me, I can just simply return them, no obligations, no questions asked. She loaded on my phone an app for pairing the hearing aid to my phone and ran some tests. I was able to hear, loud and clear, without turning the speaker on and I can talk to the caller even if my phone was in my pocket or anywhere nearby.  No one else around me can hear the voice of the  person on the other end of the call but I hear it clearly and distinctly.  

The drive home was exciting.  I had to turn down the radio to a mere third of the volume and for the first time in ages I could hear the turn signal ticking even with the radio on.  I know my wife told me a few times in the past that I must not be hearing the turn signal ticking when failing to reset it after changing lanes.

I stepped out of the garage after I parked the car when I got home. Birds even from three houses away and around were audibly bantering about. 

I had to try the TV and the surround sound as soon as I settled inside.  That was going to be the ultimate test.

Let me backup for just a bit to show the point of this new hearing aid technology and why. When we moved into the home we're living in now, nineteen years ago, the floors in the formal and family room areas were all tiles - not ideal for TV and musical acoustics.  One audio company was the only one (at that time anyway) that allowed for the user to "tune" the listening area to one's personal taste or just simply to remove the "harshness" of the sounds because of too much reverberation from the tiled floor.

The technology was quite impressive. The "tuning" had to be done on a quiet evening. It required  the user or owner of the home to wear a head band no different from what the audiologist made me wear. They were not headphones with speakers. Instead, the head band had left and right tiny microphones on the user's temples.  A cable connected it to the stereo receiver. At one sitting position, the listener/wearer of the head band will have to sit still looking at the TV while the computer sends different frequency tones and loudness from each of the eight cube speakers back and front and one rectangular center channel plus the sub-woofer. The left and right microphones on the temple pick up the sound and feed it to the computer in the receiver.  The listener then may move to another location (five are allowed) and the process is repeated. After it's finished the computer in the receiver analyzes the data, then it will adjust the output from each of the speakers for an acoustically balanced reproduction of the sound to the listener's ear (from five different locations). In other words, five people at the five locations will hear the "tuned" output from the speakers.

The reason I went through all that is that today the microchips that were in the technology nineteen years ago were condensed to the size of the hearing aid that it is today.  And done wirelessly, at that.  That is the technology.  When I thought my old sound system was past its shelf life, it is still  capably performing as designed. It was my ears that needed rejuvenation.  Once again,  movie sounds are located where they come from, the sound stage in a jazz hall is up close while the concert hall would loom large with  direct and reflected sounds arriving milliseconds apart as they should be, the short strings of the harp, the high notes of the violin, the clear diction of a well played piano piece, sopranos and mezzo sopranos come alive, the TV anchor speaks like he is in the living room, etc., - that is how I am re-discovering what I missed.

The bottom line:  As mentioned I have a month to decide. For me, it is a "buy".  I'd recommend it to anyone who has hearing loss even if he or she is able to get by.  If for just one simple reason.  Hear how you used to when you were under twenty one.  Incredibly, I can even hear the house thermostat on the wall as it clicks on and off,

Now, we may realize that all the installment payments, accrued interest and all, may pay dividends because the longer we live is at least not quite the dreaded phenomenon that generations past endured.  I can attest to the fact that indeed we are living under very fortunate conditions our grand parents didn't have.  The added bonus to me is that I do not need either glasses or hearing aid to engage in swimming.  I do need glasses (safety and prescription) in my woodworking hobby but definitely not hearing aid.

So, accrued interests and amortized bodily asset depreciation we can accept in lieu of the alternative.  We should not easily relinquish the ticket to life, at least not yet anyway, because there is still plenty of time to relish it for as long as we can.  Remember, the more accrued interests can also mean that you've been current with your installment payments.

If only one reader is convinced, I think this was worth writing this musing. 

Below are what came with the whole package:

Below is what it is like next to a U.S. penny. The "in-ear" model and those you see in TV commercials work too but in my opinion this one is more capable for my needs.

Below is how the user can adjust the volume for each ear from a smart phone. 

P.S.  If you're wondering about the title of this musing, "Can You See What I Hear, Can You Hear What I See?", imagine what a dolphin or bat, or creatures that rely on sonar, might say when they can "see" with their ears. Bats can "see" with their ears a single mosquito in mid-flight.  On the other hand a viper, such as a rattlesnake, can "hear" a mouse moving about  as it senses infrared light exuded by the warm body of its prey.  Snakes do not have ears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Angel and A Devil Were Talking

Through a  rare cosmic oddity, unfathomably irregular if not  weirdly improbable, an angel and a devil were sitting at a table having drinks. The devil had one unimaginably strong cocktail while the angel settled for a tall glass of cold lemonade.  The devil (D) looked haggard but still menacing while the angel (A) looked calm but uncomfortably intent.  They started talking with each other.

D: What a day I'm having. I needed this drink.

A: Don't tell me. The furnace at the head office broke down?

D: Don't you dare tell a "Hell freezes over joke".

A: Sorry, what's the problem?

D: My boss has been on my case two days in a row now.  Says I'm not meeting my quota on recruiting sinners.  And he's criticizing my technique on how I dangle temptations.

A: Too bad.  Where has he been sending you? Any one particular place I should know about?

D: The worst place I was ever assigned to cover.  Tibet!

A: What? What's wrong with Tibet?

D: Those Tibetan monks won't hear or listen to anything once they get on that trance-like mode of meditation foolishness.  You know. They'd get into the meditation thing and no one can get through to them.  What happened to me was like sending a  do-gooder like you to Las Vegas.

A: Oh, I've been sent there.  Yes, right smack at the casinos. Did you know that on a per capita basis, you will hear more prayers there than in any cathedral? Or at the Vatican for that matter.  I was sent there as a neophyte early in my career. I once answered some desperate young man's prayer.  I tweaked the slot machine he was on which won him a $3,000 windfall.

D: Good for you.  I didn't mean good.  How devilish of you to do that.

A: Sadly,  he lost everything before midnight.  Including his tuition money for U.C. Berkeley.  You see, he was just passing through on his way to college.  That was a tough one. I think one of you guys took over but I didn't keep track.  I was told later in my assessment report  that that was a rookie mistake I made. I moved on.  It was almost as bad as my assignment to Congress. My other co-workers had the same experiences with all seats of government everywhere else.

D: I'm sure we hooked your Las Vegas kid. Especially if he was going to Berkely. Ah, Congress!.  Did you know that's where we send all our neophytes?  They go in as lobbyists. Then they think the devil's work is easy. Hah! Wait, till they get sent to Tibet.  

A:  Forget Tibet already. Be thankful your boss is not sending you to Antarctica?

D: What?  There's nothing there but penguins and smelly sea lions. Though I did enjoy once watching those killer whales tormenting those seals.  Penguins too.  But it was like munching on peanuts with those penguins. I'm still talking about killer whales.  You know, eating penguins. 

A: I got it.  You don't have to explain.

D: So, what's your problem?

A: I didn't like my last assignment.

D: Las Vegas?

A: No. Los Angeles. You know, I thought I was sent on vacation. Los Angeles - city of angels sounded .. well, angelic, you know what I mean. I thought I'd make a difference in Hollywood.  Nope.

D: Hollywood.  Do you know what we call that place?  The devil's playground.  Hollywood is our  R & R location.  You know, Rest and Recreation.

A: You don't have to explain that to me either.  I got you.

D: No, you don't. You think it's easy to be a devil or even just a devil's advocate.  People are mean. When they do something wrong, their first instinct is to say, 'the devil made me do it'. When something beneficial happens,  'a guardian angel saved that kid'. And they'd come up with expressions like, 'between the devil and the deep blue sea'.  What does that mean? You've not asked me, "How do I sleep at night?"

A: How do you sleep at night?"

D: I don't.  We all don't. Even associate devils don't.  Our boss certainly doesn't.

A: Is that hard for you?

D: Not sleeping? Nah. What's hard is when we're not appreciated.

A: You expect to be appreciated? 

D: Yeah, people are so ungrateful.  You give them everything they ask for and there's not even a thank you.  Serial killers are the worst.  They're never satisfied.  They keep doing it until they get caught. 

A: Listen, I can't say it's good talking with you.  You know what I mean.  I need to write a report and wait for my next assignment.

The two parted ways.  No handshakes; no "have a nice day"; no, see you next time either.

The devil reported for work the next day.  The boss wasn't around but the assistant boss was there who called him in before he could even settle in his chair.

"I heard you were talking with an angel. What did it have to say?"

"Wow, word spreads quickly, doesn't it? Why did you say, "it"?

"They are genderless, you know that, don't you? So are we all.  Only humans have genders.  And boy, don't they have more than two now. And they keep adding to it.  Our boss is happy.  Anyway, it's a small victory we don't celebrate over".

"Is that a win for us"?

"What do you think"? Don't worry about it.  The boss is sending you to your next assignment".

"Los Angeles"?

"No. By the way, we're done with Ivy League schools - in the U.S. and Europe as well.  Our boss is happy with our progress there.  We're sending you to the annual Competition for the Soul of Men. It's the Olympics for who can get the most number of sinners in the span of seven months. Or conversions, if you're working for the other side. This is one chance for you to excel. A promotion is at stake here".

"What? Where, when"?

"You're leaving today. But not before you've assembled your team of ten associates".

"Associates? To do what"?

"You'll know what to do before you leave.  Motivate yourself, for dear Satan's sake".

The angel who had met with the devil for drinks earlier was also summoned to report for the next assignment. The regional director spoke.

"You and a team of ten new angels  will be part of the Competition for the Soul of Men.  Your team individually will be sent to ten high schools in different parts of the world.  There each one of your team will be competing with a corresponding devil competitor.  The idea is to win over as many young kids as possible to our side. The devil competitors will do their best to tempt as many as they can.  Whoever can bring the most to one side or the other wins.  You will all have seven months each to accomplish the task".

"Soul of Men?  Those are young children!. And why only the male"?

"It's a figure of speech.  It's for all of humanity.  The future of humanity. Those children will soon become adults.  We  start early because by the time they get to college or the labor force or the military, it will be too late. Satan protested that part of the rules but he was overruled. But truth be known, Satan always start with young minds. He simply doesn't do it the same way each time".

"Okay, I'll start right away".

"Choose wisely. The specific schools and locations will be in the packet of information you will be receiving this afternoon.  Satan has an unlimited advertising budget.  You will not have any at all. Except for the fact that - you already know this - you have one advantage. You know that every human has both good and evil receptors in their minds. The one advantage you have is that there are twelve receptors for evil for each individual mind but there are thirteen for good. So, use that advantage".

The angel went to work.

That was a few days ago now.  It's an uphill battle for them. Actually, this has been going on throughout history.  These skirmishes are only a preview of what could become the final competition. But we can't know when that will be.  

We see everyday signs of these skirmishes. Every day we - all of us - are asked to take sides.  Choose wisely. 

 

"Who are you going to listen to. Me, or the boss from hell?"

"What Could Have Been" Went into a Bar

"What Could Have Been" (WCHB) went into a bar.  He took the one empty bar stool, ordered a drink and while waiting, he struck a conversation with the one next to his right, "What Will Be, Will Be" (W.WBx2).

WCHB: "Been here long, it seems?"

W.WBx2: "Just my second drink, been nursing it slowly. What brought you in?"

W.WBx2: "Been feeling like Marlon Brando lately, everyday. Double scotch, or two or three makes the day and night easy.  What about you?"

W.WBx2: "Marlon Brando, whaaat?" (elongating the word, in obvious bewilderment)

WCHB: "You know, the movie 'On The Waterfront' where Brando famously bemoaned: 'I could have been a contender!' He won his first Oscar in that movie in 1954".

W.WBx2: "Not a big fan of movies but I know Brando.  But what has that quotation got to do with you? Me, I drink each night to prepare myself the next day for what will be, will be".

WCHB: Ah, you see that makes you Doris Day.  From "The Man Who Knew Too Much"

Within one and a half seconds, W.WBx2 got off from his stool, and blind sided  WCHB with a savage right hook to the jaw. WCHB was flat on the floor for a bit before the bartender broke through the crowd to break up what could have been a melee of some sort.

That evening the policeman who processed the assault charge and wrote up the report was having dinner with his wife.  Over dessert, he told her  about the incident and the report he wrote. He said, "I filed the report but here, read this alternate one I wrote for my eyes and yours only".

His wife read the exact ones that were italicized above. "Wow, you are one frustrated script writer, aren't you? I know you are a psychoanalyst too, that's in quotation marks by the way, just so you know.  So .. oh, the night is young.  The dishes can wait.  Tell me what's behind all these.  Tell me more. Help yourself to another scoop of ice cream while I brew some tea.

Over a steaming cup of tea and the scoop of ice cream now a mere memory on the saucer nearby, the policeman begun.

"WCHB is someone who is stuck with a life he keeps rehashing with myriad scenarios of what could have been.  I spoke with him as he was treated  on a stretcher at the EMT truck. He explained that all he did was spoke about his life. "What could have been if only this or that happened", he said.  W.WBx2 claimed it an insult that WCHB called him "a Doris Day and the man who knew too much".  Clearly it was all a misunderstanding.

His wife said, "That's it?  You have no psychoanalytical gems you want to share?"

"W.WBx2 could have shown some restraint, you see. But, talking with him at the precinct while I booked him for assault, he was nonchalant about it. He claimed that what happened occurred because it was to be."

"I have to ask", his wife had to ask. "What did he mean by it?"

"I will have to guess what he meant.  Unlike WCB who seems to live a life weighted down by the past or endless what-could-have-been scenarios, "W.WBx2 lives by a probabilistic future of what-will-be will-be. Or, put another way, I think he merely believes in future agnosticism."

"Wow!", his wife, seemingly feigning adoration, responded quickly.

"You're making fun of me.  Let me explain as I usually do when dealing with ordinary mortals.  Before you get smart alecky with me, you know you're a goddess to me, but try to be an ordinary mortal for a minute" his quick recovery was smart and effective because his wife smiled approvingly.

"Wait, explain Doris Day first".  Again, his wife had to ask.

"Doris Day starred with Jim Stewart in what was a suspense spy movie, "The Man Who Knew Too Much" made in 1956.  It was in that movie that she sung the song about the future to her son.  The song was "Que Sera, Sera".

His wife was squinting that familiar squint of, "I don't know what you're talking about".

"Ser is a verb for "to be" in Spanish. Conjugated to future tense, it is sera for will be.  Que sera, sera is what will be, will be".

"I see.  Go on".

"I looked this up on an English grammar reference website", the policeman admitted.

"What could have been is a standard phrase in references to things that do not actually exist, but which seemed possible at one time in the past"

"WCHB was apparently  projecting everything from the past.  He is prone to daydreaming in reverse".

"Wow, wow again".  This time his wife's adoring smile was genuine. "I adore you for coming up with that phrase, "daydreaming in reverse". What about W.WBx2"?

"W.WBx2 clearly does not care much about knowing the future because to him what happens will happen. He claimed that his present moments were all predicated from before they happened by a series of "what will be-s" that he had little control over and until they happened, everything was just simply a probability".

"So W.WBx2 not only doesn't care to know  about the future, he really does not care what happens at all, does he?" his wife asked.

"Perhaps, but not really.  He has a job and a family so he must care about the future.  I think it's just the alcohol that is doing it for him.  And the right trigger mechanism of some sort that sets him off".

"I think WCHB has real problems.  You made fun of daydreaming in reverse but it is real for some people.  We reminisce about the past, the wonderful moments or the no-so-happy ones and sometimes the sad ones too. We daydream only about tomorrow. We all have 'What could have been-s' but they serve very little purpose".  The policeman was done with his tea and was going to call it a night but his wife wouldn't let him yet.

"Were you serious when you said I am a goddess to you"?

"Yes".

"Can a goddess have wishes?"

"My goddess' wishes are my commands".

"Will you clear the dishes from the table? Wash them or get them into the dishwasher before going upstairs?  Please, please"? She had that smile that captivated him seven years ago and can still hold him hostage even now.

The policeman's reply - well tested through time - is the surest thing to eternal peace and tranquility in any household throughout human history.

 "Yes dear!"

"She always gets her way. Everything is always 'Yes, Deer.'"