End of 2005

Being the end of a disasterous 2005, it is only appropriate some notes be posted.

Time may think Bono is the Man of the Year, co-served by the Gates', but my determination is that the person or thing that most affected the year was --

The Weather

While earthquakes are not essentially weather, the resultant tsunami in South Asia certainly affected millions of humans and set the tone for the year. Following those separate but connected disasters, the hurricane season surely occupied the news, with the destruction of New Orleans capturing the attention of the world.

I was thoroughly delighted to see the continued dissolution of the liberal ideology as the maniacs on the left attempted to make the weather a political issue. Idiocy reigned as such notables as Calypso Louie babbled their nonsense about exploding the levis and selectivity of race in rescue.

My favorite image among all the horror of New Orleans was not the hundreds of submerged school busses ("We ain't goin' on no school busses. We want coaches!), but the view from the helicoptor of one family in the 9th Ward that had apparently taken appropriate precautions. Amongst the muddy sewage water surrounding their neighborhood, this family secured a chorinated pool. As the helicopters passed over the scene, the children were playing in the pool and waving at the aircraft, not begging for rescue, but greeting the world media as a symbol of what good common sense and preparation could accomplish in the midst of disaster.

These people took responsibility for their own survival in a marvelous contrast to those who depended on the government to extract them from their situation. The government, at all levels, gave us floating bodies, flooded school busses, the Superdome catastrophe, and the opportunity for a liberal media feeding frenzy. Those who chose to take personal responsibility for their own lives and behaviors continue to thrive and rebuild for the dependent classes who refuse to be responsible.

On a personal note, 2005 had a balance of successes and disappointments. I managed to extricate myself from the factory known as the University of Tennessee and enroll in a teacher certification program with some light at the end of the tunnel. I completed the first semester with respectable passing grades.

Among disappointments was the passing of my mother. She had been in various health care facilities throughout the year, ending up in the same hospice that had housed Terri Schiavo. Like Ms. Schiavo, my mother did not leave that facility alive. It was not the fault of the hospice. My mother made the decision that her quality of life was lacking and chose to shed the weight of this vale of tears. The Woodside Hospice made it possible for her to pass on December 18th with the least amount of discomfort.

Now we are on the verge of 2006. More will die because that is the nature and fate of humanity, to be born, to live and to die. Some will go violently. Far more will pass in their sleep. Headlines will scream indignity and injustice. Reality will expand beyond the small world of the TV screen and individual personal experience. The year will be, as others have before it, like an immense jigsaw puzzle. Pieces and parts must be garnered from a wide variety of sources for the true picture to emerge. Those who simply rely on others to make their vision will, no doubt, be disappointed. Those who have failed to learn the lessons of history will, of course, be forced to repeat the errors.

The fact is that January 1 will be much the same as December 31. Only the calendar changes. People, on the other hand, will slog through their lives, all headed for the same ultimate result. Hope rests in the realization that true achievement comes in the lives touched and improved by the efforts of those who will shoulder that responsibility. Those who live only for themselves are doomed to disappointment and dissatisfaction. True joy comes in the process, not necessarily in the success, of helping each other.

If you doubt the truth of this ideal, consider this. Who is more happy, the Coast Guard aircrewman who rescued hundreds from the rooftops of flooded New Orleans, or those who stood, stranded, with signs of need born of decades of dependence?