The Tragedy Of Bruce, Brenda and David Reimer

Long before Caitlin Jenner emerged as the recognizable face of the contemporary transgender community, there existed a man who was thrust into a type of unwanted and tragic biological sex change experience. This man, David Reimer (originally born with the name Bruce), serves to remind us that gender identity is far more than the presence/absence of male/female genitalia or social conditioning. More than that, he was a biological man who suffered indescribable suffering through no fault of his own.

I was first introduced to the plight of Reimer when I was a college student the early 1980’s, though in far greater depth as a young professor later the same decade, while teaching a Gender Communication class. Reimer, born August 22, 1965, was born a healthy and vibrant male baby boy with no signs of any peculiarities. At the age of 8 months both he and his twin brother, Brian, were diagnosed with a condition, phimosis, that causes the foreskin of the penis to block urine flow. The condition is not considered serious as many toddlers and infants apparently outgrow the condition without any invasive measures. The most common treatment today (as far as this non-medical blogger knows) is a variety of topical creams and ointments.

However, the general practitioner at the time, recommended that a “simple” circumcision could solve the issue. The parents agreed. In short, the circumcision went terribly awry and the electric cautery machine used (it was never determined if it was due to the machine or human error) caused the penis to be completely mutilated and rendered destroyed. His twin brother, who was set to be circumcised shortly thereafter this incident, though for obvious reasons was not, was never treated though the condition went away on its own.

The horrified parents had some very difficult decisions to make.

I would imagine that in our world of contemporary medical innovation, reconstructing/reinventing the damaged male organ is likely rather commonplace, at least in comparison to a time in 1965 when gender reassignment was essentially non-existent. Since this restructuring was not an option, what were the parents to do?

Enter Dr. John Money, an American doctor whose advice they sought and one who believed in the “Theory of Gender Neutrality,” essentially proposing that gender is a socially learned construct. Money recommended that their son be castrated, given hormone treatments and raised as a girl. The physician, Money, who was credited with developing the term “gender identity,” supervised the case for several years and eventually wrote a paper declaring the success of the gender conversion. Rumor has it that Money may have practiced some very controversial “sex therapies” with both Bruce and his twin brother when they were children, which was yet another dysfunctional cog in the tragic wheel of his life.

However, this conversion from male-to-female was anything but a success. In fact, it was an absolute tragic tale of mutilation tribulation. The prevailing attitudes of the time held by progressive gender leaning groups, was that sexuality is, essentially, a learned social construct and that one’s gender identity can be successfully manipulated with the right medical treatments (hormones/surgery) and a great deal of social conditioning. I would imagine that the basic thought process behind this belief was that the right mixture of estrogen, coupled with the engagement of traditional female toys and clothing, can successfully transform a male into female. After all, it was believed by some at the time, that gender was essentially learned with a hormone or two thrown in for good measure.

If Reimer’s (born as baby named Bruce, then Brenda, then at 15 changed his name to David) situation was at all indicative of the process of gender reassignment, we learned that hormones, dolls and dresses does not a female make. Reimer himself never bought it.

The LA Times reported: “About six weeks before his second birthday, Bruce became Brenda on an operating table at Johns Hopkins. After bringing the toddler home, the Reimers began dressing her like a girl and giving her dolls.

She was, on the surface, an appealing little girl, with round cheeks, curly locks and large, brown eyes. But Brenda rebelled at her imposed identity from the start. She tried to rip off the first dress that her mother sewed for her. When she saw her father shaving, she wanted a razor, too. She favored toy guns and trucks over sewing machines and Barbies..In an article published in the Archives of Pediatric and Adolescent Medicine in 1997, Diamond and the psychiatrist, Dr. H. Keith Sigmundson, showed how Brenda had steadily rejected her reassignment from male to female. In early adolescence, she refused to continue receiving the estrogen treatments that had helped her grow breasts. She stopped seeing Money. Finally, at 14, she refused to continue living as a girl.

Perhaps one of the most tragic aspects of the Reimer case was how he was abused and exploited in the attempt to further political agendas. Reimer was championed as a “success” in Time magazine, which, in reporting on his situation, wrote that Money’s research provided “strong support for a major contention of women’s liberationists (yes, it was the 1970’s): that conventional patterns of masculine and feminine behavior can be altered.”

The Reimer case apparently “proved” that sexual identity was far more malleable than anyone had thought possible. Money’s claims provided powerful support for those seeking medical or social remedies for gender-based issues.

Unfortunate.

These claims in and of themselves may or may not be true. However, we can never realize the potential validity of such observations using Reimer as the example.

As the article above stated, at the age of fourteen he was refusing estrogen treatments and procedures to grow breasts. It was this constant pain and agony he experienced, as the doctors attempted to make him a girl, was what lead his parents in the decision to finally let him know the truth: “She” was born a male.

Upon finding out this information, he was angry, though greatly relieved to finally know the source of his confused and struggling gender identity.

I wish I could say the story was a “happily ever after” one after this point; it was not.

Reimer was, essentially, miserable the rest of his days and, eventually, on May 4, 2004, after trying to rebuild gender security with a marriage, three children, and a poorly reconstructed penis, committed suicide.

According to the same LA Times article, prior to his death, Reimer observed, “You can never escape the past,” he told the Seattle Post-Intelligencer in 2000. “I had parts of my body cut away and thrown in a wastepaper basket. I’ve had my mind ripped away.”

And why do I write of Reimer today?

Reimer was used as a political football for his entire life. It was never about the individual person, David Reimer, as to why his story was significant, rather the explosive and controversial politics his life represented. Many have used Reimer’s story to justify nature over nurture, to extol the great importance of gender identity, or just contort the story in any such a way as to make it justify a narrative of our political choosing. Perhaps this is indicative of our current cultural state of political correctness -it is rarely about the well-being of the person, rather the well-being of our agenda.

Again, unfortunate. Reimer may have been an outlier and an anomaly, though he was a person first and foremost.

Reimer was not a political football. He was a human being who suffered a miserable fate at the hands of an incompetent other, be it an incompetent surgical person or a person who created a mutilating machine. He was not evidence or support of an agenda or cause, he was a soul.

If the life of Reimer has taught us anything, it is to honor each person and their individual uniqueness. It is to celebrate the gift of personal identity and the sacredness it carries. Like the foundation and under girding of structures, our identify is the rock in which the rest of our lives are built. A confused gender identity equals little stability equals a lack of purpose.

Reimer has taught me to honor identity, specifically, gender identity. Whether the genitalia matches the emotions or not, to blatantly possess the hubris to believe we can be the Dr. Frankenstein of gender is a serious and audacious mistake. I cannot imagine the pain and confusion in situations where the “plumbing” does not match the gender makeup, probably all the same pain as Reimer though without a clear cut understanding of why the mismatch took place. (In order to better understand this mismatch, I refer you to my transgendered friend Georgia, who does an excellent job theorizing why such mismatches may occur).

One’s gender identity can be observed as sacred. Imagine a life in which your emotional world does not match your physical one, be it through a botched circumcision, an act of nature or some other unknown reason? That is a life of pain.

Thank you for your life David Reimer. You have shown us the importance of honoring one’s identity and serve as a reminder that the only person who is an expert on one’s personal gender identity is oneself.

Thank god, that -I think- we are slowly beginning to realize such a lesson.

Helpless

I have not published a blog in quite a while. I have been writing blogs, yet, to put a long-blog-story-short (and I did write an unpublished blog about the reason for not publishing, though it will be published at some point in the near future) the last thing we have needed this past year is someone else’s opinion. It seems everyone is emboldened with a dogmatic opinion these days -I suppose it is a mix of outrage, frustration and the availability of social media.

But this blog is not really an opinion.

Hence, I write.

Hence, I plan to publish.

My dad has been in hospice care, in a very nice area of Northridge, CA for over 3 years. The man is 87 years-old and has been defying death his entire life. He was born premature and needed to be placed in the family farm oven as a makeshift incubator. He has survived car accidents, gas leaks, heart attacks and, most recently, Covid 19, of which he did not experience as much as a single sniffle.

He is losing his faculties slowly and most currently his hearing has failed him.

So I went over to bring him a whiteboard so we could establish communication via dry erase markers.

When I arrived the caretaker was changing his adult diaper and sheets, and requested that I leave and come back in about 15 minutes. So I left for a short walk around a rather nice and upscale neighborhood.

What I saw next was one of the most bizarre things I have seen in my life.

As walked in the sidewalk-less street, I noticed a small creature “limp running” its way toward me. My eyes are not the greatest so I waited until we got closer to each other and put on my glasses.

I had no idea what I was looking at. And why was a defenseless creature racing TOWARD me?

It was too big for a mouse, too small to be a decent size rat, while its head was much larger than its skimpering body. The poor thing had an incredible limp and seemed absolutely bewildered by what was happening. I was perplexed until….

I continued walking and noticed a dead animal in the street. As I made my way towards the dead creature, I slowly began piecing together what transpired. Apparently a pregnant possum was struck by a car, spilling out her babies from within into the street. As I hovered over the carcass, I noticed some of the premature possums lay dead on their momma, some were trying to snuggle up to her while others, much like the one I first encountered, decided to run for some kind of cover.

This was a very bizarre experience as it was both heart wrenching and tragic, regardless of one’s thoughts on the current state of the possum community.

Why did I encounter this very strange accident on the same day I had to face my dying father’s loss of hearing? As our elderly parent’s age, it seems there are certain milestones that are a reality check for a new downward turn in a seemingly constant descending state.

This was that.

I immediately knew I had to write about this small but memorable event in order to make any sense of it whatsoever. Please do not misunderstand, I am definitely NOT a “everything happens for a reason” guy at all. In fact, the only meaning any event has in our life is the meaning we assign to it.

Did the gods place a dead possum in my path in order to provide a symbolic message in my life? Maybe, though I would question the gods ethics if they felt they had to either kill or orphan a bunch of possums just so Jimmy can write a blog and learn a little something about life.

No, it just happened. And if there was a reason I could never know it with any degree of certainty, so what’s the point in trying?

Why not? It’s not like the future of my life will depend on my interpretation of a strange event, though to attempt to have this event fit snug like a jigsaw piece into the puzzle of my life narrative is, at best, an exercise in creative thinking that may help shape the understanding of my father’s condition (as conjured and cockamamie as it may be) or, at worst, I have wasted an hour or so writing about a random, weird happenstance.

Later that day I was able to share this story with my sisters. My oldest sister, Marybeth, believed this injured, baby possum represented my ailing and dying father. He too was introduced to the world in a tragic way and has been running ever since. Since he longer has anyone else on earth, he is running toward his children for safety.

And there is not a damn thing we can do for him.

I looked at those possums and felt so damn helpless. Does animal control even care about possums? Are they not considered a rodent? Could I scoop them up and save them one by one? These little animals did nothing to warrant such a shocking and repulsive means by which to enter this world, but is that not true with many people as well? We have no choice in so many things and, in the end, we are all running for what we think we need to keep living. Breathing. Thriving. To stay sane in an insane world.

The reality is I do not know. I just don’t know.

I do know that possum faced certain death as do we all, with some closer to the finish line than others.

Maybe I am just more in tune with all things life and death at this time in my life. Doesn’t matter. Love you dad. And, like the possums, appear to be as helpless and alone as anyone.

 

Ruth Bader Ginsburg And Social Justice

“I’m a very strong believer in listening and learning from others.”~RBG

I lived through the Vietnam War, having been just old enough to watch the evening news as the anchors would speak of the inflated daily number of troop casualties. I watched the related, seemingly daily, protests of this war as well.

I was around for the shooting of students at Kent State (“four dead in O-hi-o”). Be it the 1968 Watts riots, the 92 LA riots, the social tensions of the OJ Simpson trial, the bombing of the twin towers, or several major earthquakes, my 57 years have seen and experienced quite a bit. Perhaps what the physical body loses as one ages is made up for in psychological terms through the vast number of experiences one possesses over their younger counterparts with each passing decade.

Experience means something. As we age, the “been there, done that” events increase while the “I never thought I’d see the day” stuff becomes fewer and farther between. So as I contend that our youth may benefit from those of us who have been around the block a few times, I like to live by the same principle as I look up to my elders.

Enter the 87 year-old Supreme Court justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg, or as some like to refer to her as “The Notorious R.B.G.” RBG is undoubtedly one of my very few heroes in life. I would argue, strongly argue in fact, that Ginsburg has single-handedly done more for Women’s Right and progress in this country than any other single individual.  Feminists Elizabeth Cady Stanton, second wavers Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan, are often credited with women’s social advancement and have traditionally been considered the face of the movement.

If these women have been considered the face of the women’s movement, Ginsburg is the heart and soul.

Yes, I know it takes a myriad of different voices, strengths and gifts to empower a movement, therefore you might say RBG is the MVP on a really good team. You think the Chicago Bulls would have won 6 championships in 1990s without Michael Jordan? Hard to believe women would enjoy the same status today without the tireless efforts of RBG.

Why? While some have protested and caused waves while making the evening news, Ginsburg was busy changing laws and fighting in court and instituting real change.

“Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you.” ~RBG

She was accepted into Harvard Law in 1956 and was one of only 9 women in a class of 500. And though I am oh-so-tempted to begin a litany of all her lifetime of accomplishments in terms of women’s right in this country, do yourself a favor and read up on this absolutely amazing human being. Any 14th amendment related issues in terms of gender discrimination have been fought hard by Ginsburg and nearly all have been won. Agree or disagree with her, and for better or worse, she is a person who has changed every person’s life in this country- every man, woman and child.

“Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time.” ~RBG

Wikipedia writes that, “in 2002, Ginsburg was inducted into the National Women’s Hall of Fame. Ginsburg has been named one of 100 Most Powerful Women (2009), one of Glamour magazine’s Women of the Year 2012, and one of Time magazine’s 100 most influential people (2015). She has been awarded honorary Doctor of Laws degrees by Willamette University (2009), Princeton University (2010), and Harvard University (2011).”

Yet these are not the top reasons I absolutely adore and respect “The Notorious R.B.G.” Among the top reasons she has earned my deep respect is her civil and dignified approach to very volatile issues.

“Don’t be distracted by emotions like anger, envy, resentment. These just zap energy and waste time.” ~RBG

Her best friend on the Supreme Court, before his passing, was radically conservative justice Antonin Scalia. Ginsburg and Scalia would golf together, do lunch together, and, above all, laugh together. These two human beings were as ideologically far apart as two people could possibly be, yet found a way to go beyond just being able to coexist, they were best friends.

“You can disagree without being disagreeable.” ~RBG

Today we can all learn a life-changing lesson from Ginsburg. A lesson that teaches us that real change is not generated from memes, quippy remarks and snarky social media posts, rather real change is changing the fundamental structure of social policy and law. Additionally, Ginsburg teaches us that we need not be hateful or belligerent in the process. Rather we can be friends and take solace in the understanding of where real change takes place.

So often in life, things that you regard as an impediment turn out to be great, good fortune.” ~RBG

Currently the 87 year-old Ginsburg is not in good health but still remains on the SCOTUS.

Perhaps we can all learn a lesson from Ginsburg in today’s rare “I never thought I’d see the day” moments. As one who teaches persuasion, my students know I care very little for the positions one holds and the stances one takes, rather I do care about those stances being articulated with civility while possessing a genuine willingness to listen to others and be open to change.

“Reacting in anger or annoyance will not advance one’s ability to persuade.” ~RBG

Thank you Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg. You have taught us that a person may go out on the streets and scream today, yet if it does not change tomorrow, it matters not. All the while sharing my basic philosophy:

“When a thoughtless or unkind word is spoken, best tune out.” ~RBG

Thank you for being an elder I can look up to Justice Ginsburg. We need more of you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Guide To Police Reform

It is of no surprise to anyone that our country is in dire need of police reform judged by almost any metric. The following is my official proposal for reform that I believe can potentially solve this national crisis.

My Proposal for Police Reform

The Hiring of Police Officers

It is of paramount importance that if real change is going to happen in our country, it begins with the hiring process of potential officers of the law. One may wrongly believe that reforming law enforcement begins with hiring the “best and brightest,” yet you could not be more wrong. The desirable qualifications we should look for in any candidate include the following criteria:

  • College Education

We must do our must best to keep the number of officers with a college education to an absolute minimum. We one gets educated, frequently one becomes less ignorant, more enlightened, and gains new perspectives in both understanding and perceiving the world around them. Such advancement may lead to the unintended consequences of smugness, independent thought, thereby potentially threatening the current groupthink fraternity that exists in most departments. Under no circumstances should a police agency require a college degree. In fact, it must be considered a detriment for potential employment.

  • Age

To put it succinctly, the younger the better. It would be to our collective advantage to hire as young as 18 years old (or younger if legal in certain states). Though it is true that one’s prefrontal cortex is not fully developed until around age 25, this is precisely the reason to keep the hiring age as furthest away from full brain development and function as possible. By hiring young and impressionable boys and girls, the law enforcement agency can more easily manipulate the youngster’s mind and play a part in the brain’s formation of neural pathways and cognitive development. Like education, this ensures officer’s stay lock step with the department in matters of policy and general cohesion. And studies show these things are important. Really important.

  • Motivation

It is very important to determine the reasons why one would want to become a police officer. If any of the reasons do not include both, “to have power and authority over others” and, “need a stage to play out my violent tendencies,” the candidate must be rejected immediately. We need men and women on the streets who are there to meet their own emotional needs as this will keep officers satisfied in the line of duty. Studies show job satisfaction must always be paramount. If a candidate ever suggests a reason having to do with the “giving to the greater good,” we can be assured they are not truth tellers and will be personally unsatisfied with their life.  As an example, many years ago a neighbor of mine was entering the LAPD police academy, when I asked him why he would leave his lucrative tile setting job to be an officer, in his preferred location of South Central Los Angeles no less, his PRECISE and UNEDITED response was, “so I can kill some niggers.” There is no doubt this man was a proud and satisfied member of the force.

  • First Department Assignment After Academy

Many police departments currently make their young, uneducated, cognitively under developed and emotionally deprived youngsters serve their first two years of duty in a maximum-security prison. This is just genius. All departments must follow this protocol as it serves to give the young man or woman a reality check of what they will be up against, most particularly when they pull a soccer mom over for going 51 in a 45. By demanding these young people rub shoulders with hardened criminals in their first two years of service, they will realistically know what they are up against. Yes, they may get jaded and get a somewhat skewed perception of the world while becoming more aggressive and violent, though this is small price to pay for the “scared straight” lessons that will be learned.

  • On-The- Job Behaviors and Attitude

It is also imperative that departments implement policies that ensure all citizens are treated as second class or worse, while this being expressed both in terms of behaviors and attitude. While recently having my car broken into with over $2000 worth of merchandise stolen, I had to visit the police department 3 times to get a police report at my insistence. This taught me tenacity and great patience. These are good things for society.  I also had the entire robbery on a surveillance DVD with a listing of everywhere the criminal went with my wallet. It was never looked at, nor was a finger ever raised, in potential service to this law abiding and tax paying citizen. Imagine my ego and general satisfaction if the police had actually done something or expressed a positive attitude in one of the safest cities in the country? Big egos and being overly satisfied are not good for the individual. It is critically important for law enforcement to flaunt their power when possible and do as little as possible for the people who pay their salary while being an asshole, this will ensure the power division between police and everyone else, is properly and rightfully maintained. Studies show that a high power distance between the protectors and the protected is a really good thing.

General Characteristics

Some other characteristics to look for are the following:

Community College Dropout: It is always preferable if candidates have dropped out mid-semester of the local community college. Sure, this may demonstrate a lack of willingness to follow orders and submit to the policies of a college course, yet it also shows independence and gutty decision-making.

Failed High School Athlete Who Never Started: This experience only serves as impetus to finally “start” and work out their baggage on the job while making a respectable starting salary in the process. Some suggest this may indicate a way to work out their historical frustrations, yet it also allows a person an opportunity to be good at something. And that is powerful.

So, there you have it. Our reforms must include younger people with a lack of education, under developed brains and are motivated by selfish reasons to get their own personal needs met while being an asshole. In addition, they must rub shoulders with hardened criminals their first two years while preferably college dropouts who failed in athletics.

This proposal will ensure we have the right people in these very important and powerful positions.

Oh, wait…did I say “solve” the problem? Whoops.

Shit.

 

I Hit Submit. What Just Happened?

Well, today is the day. I just hit the “submit” button to turn in the final grades for my class, “Critical Thinking through Argumentation and Debate.” To my surprise, I was absolutely overwhelmed with one of the strangest feelings I have ever felt. I am not even sure how to describe it cause I am not really sure what it is. I have never felt this before in 57 years, 3 months, 19 days and change. Whatever it is, I am feeling it as I write these words.

Sadness?

Deep connection?

Overwhelming happiness?

Love?

Desperation?

All of the above?

I have never bonded with a group of students in the manner I have bonded with them this semester. And I have been at this a very long time.

As we looked into each other’s eyes through the distortion of both varying degrees of resolution and obfuscated pixelation, we really saw each other with more clarity than ever, fueled by the deep desire to connect. To be there for each other. I looked into my student’s eyes and observed a quiet desperation, cloaked in the veil of social and conversational appropriateness. I am certain they likely saw the same desperation staring back at them, albeit a desperation emanating from me, their leader, a positive minded leader, attempting to lead by example.

We can do this!

We got this!

This will all be over before you know it!

Hang in there!

I am so proud of each you!

You all toughed it out!

As I know, and as they likely full well know, I was floating in the same sea of desperation and weirdness. We could all see through everything. Just weirdness. Damn weirdness. Fucking weirdness.

We were no longer in the realm of teacher-student. We were fellow survivors wading in the same rickety and rocky vessel in the sea of weird. When I hit submit, I submitted the final declaration of this strange time. I submitted to saying goodbye to them. I submitted that this leg of our journey is now over. I submitted to the idea that many of these students will be forever etched in memory. I submitted to my connection with them. I submitted to my love and care for them. I submitted to the idea that I will never look at life the same way.

Damn did I try to be the most accommodating professor I could possibly be these past eight weeks. Still, some failed the course, as my attempts at accommodation can only go so far as to not stray too far from the great importance of academic integrity. Pandemic or not, the degree has to mean something.

Many years ago, Communication Theorist Marshall Mcluhan came up with the notion of “hot and cool” mediums of communication, also coined rich and lean. The hottest or richest form of communication humans can engage in is in-person, face-to-face engagement as we can closely read facial expressions, take note of body cues, reach out to touch if necessary and detect the presence of olfaction. In other words, all those things you cannot effectively do in a “cool or lean” electronic classroom. Yet, in a very strange way, that perhaps you really have to experience to understand, what we lacked in limited communication channels, we gained in virtual geography. These students spent the last eight weeks with me at my kitchen table, at my home, my sacred and safe place where I am most me. And I with them in their sacred places.

Weird. Just weird.

I feel privileged to be their educator. Their leader. Their “safe space.” My Zoom students never wanted to leave the class. In some cases, we went over our three hour scheduled class session. Every time I had to press the “End Meeting” button, it felt a little bit like I was letting go of the hand clinging to dear life off the cliff.

These were my quarantine buddies, my friends, my lifelines, my fellow pandemic travelers. How exhilarating it was to have a few hours of time away from the weirdness around us to talk all things critical thinking: love and relationships, social policies, ethics, free speech, debate protocol, how to argue, how to win, when and how to lose, when to quit and when to stay the course and what it means to be a person of character. You name it, we spent several glorious hours talking about it. We transported from our weird reality of social distancing to the land of theories and concepts…ironically drawing us closer and closer together, distancing be damned.

Sure, some classes bonded far more than others largely due to the nature of the course itself. For some courses I did not even have remote meetings. Yet for even those students in which a pandemic bond was never really formed, I long to see them, in person, one day and just hug. Connect. Be humans together.

I instruct all my classes that if you ever have ANY doubt whatsoever about pressing the submit button after writing something that may be, well, potentially unwise, don’t. Just don’t. Bad idea. You can always submit it later though you can never, under any circumstances, unsubmit a message.

So today I paused before I pressed the Webadvisor final grade submission form. I did not want to do it.

But I did.

Moving on.

I love them all.

I will never forget this semester.

 

 

 

 

 

Zoom…Bombing

As we all hunker down in the unique manner each one of us hunker down, there is one hunker down phenomena that has, and is currently, sweeping the globe, the virtual meeting site called Zoom.

Zoom allows face-to-face meetings to take place over the web. One can opt out of being seen or heard if one so desires, unless of course you are in my public speaking course, in which case we must see and hear the person. I have been in meetings with a handful of people as well as meetings with well over a hundred participants.

Speaking of which, I am very fortunate and grateful to have a profession where I am able to work remotely, or at a distance. While meeting face-to-face is always my preferred mode of class delivery, it is not absolutely necessary.

I am Jimmy. “Hi Jimmy!” And I am currently a Zoom addict.

So yesterday, when I heard of a new phenomenon called “Zoombombing,” I was reminded that there never will be a shortage of dumbasses in the world. Zoombombing is a term for online hackers who break into meetings and perform any number of dumbass activities, such as draw scribble, put up pornographic pictures, hurl racial slurs, you know, the stuff of dumbasses. Lest we think this is a rare and obscure activity, it is not. Not only have I been hacked, a number of my colleagues have been hacked as well.

My hack was rather benign as someone mysteriously came on and started drawing arrows and such. However, a colleague of Middle Eastern descent was hacked and was bombarded with racial hate speech.

At first when I heard of this dumbass activity, I was both angry and mystified. As I thought more about it, I tried to look at this a bit more rationally. Who would do this? Why would they do it? I am a big believer that to find answers you must first and foremost follow the incentive trail, typically, the money.

Now, the hackers do have the ability to record the meeting and, if potentially highly sensitive information is exchanged, can potentially be exposed to information that could lead to some type of profiteering, I guess. Though I do not know anyone who goes into these meetings to share personal banking information. I guess if they hack one’s personal therapy session a potential blackmail could be on the table? Maybe. Though this still sounds more Black Mirror than reality.

Then it hit me. Kids. It has to be kids. Who has a desire to be a little dumbass dick and there is nothing in it financially, or otherwise, for them? Kids. And perhaps some developmentally stifled adults who have the brains of a 13-year-old. I was 13 once. And I thought this way. Not that I ever really did anything about it, yet I remember having impish thoughts of how satisfying/fun/hilarious it would be to wreak havoc for, well, no good reason.

When one is 13, hormones and glandular wackiness aside, these emerging adults are going through the ringer. They not only have little control over their own lives, they desperately lack impulse control. And what does every 13-year-old lack that they deeply desire? Some type of power or control in an otherwise chaotic adolescent world. Certainly, there is no financial gain in it for them, yet there is an emotional gain and a weird, 13-year-old type of satisfaction.

So as the Zoom powers-that-be scramble to get their software ahead of the hackers, we can all be reminded that humanity really has not changed.

When I was 13 it was “ding dong ditch,” or a bag of dog poop lit on fire on someone’s porch, or a good “teepee-ing” of your neighbor’s house down the street or a slew of prank phone calls, the list goes on. Sure technology changes, though 13-year-olds do not.

I am not equating hurling racial slurs with lighting dog shit on fire. The former is far more disgusting and revolting than the latter. However, if we had the ability in 1975 for 13-year-olds to say whatever they wanted with the complete assurance of anonymity, these little dumbasses may have spent less time on stranger’s porches risking getting caught with dogshit and more time behind a screen saying dumbshit stuff.

So Zoom, I am not sure you can create enough safeguards to curtail dumbasses from being dumbasses.  At a time when dumbasses were born into a digital age when computer code is practically grafted into their DNA upon birth, it’s a losing battle.

That said, I’ll start using passwords just to be safe. And if I do get hacked, I hope it’s an entertaining dumbass.

 

 

 

 

 

Lineage

Standpoint theory. Typically this concept is used in the context of describing how the rich perceive the world much differently from the poor. Depending on one’s social standing, the world is going to be viewed quite disparately, hence our “stands” will be quite unique pending the point where we find ourselves socially situated.

Perhaps it is because of my belief in this theory that I am reluctant to criticize anyone whose social standing is different from my own. There are just certain things I will never know what it is like to be: a millennial, a woman, a person of color, gay, super wealthy, super poor, socially powerful, socially powerless, etc…However, I CAN tell you what it is like to be a white, middle class, 57 year-old grandpa.

Yes, grandpa.

All this standpoint theory discussion was just roundabout foreplay to say this blogger now has a new standing and reference point in which to view life. And the weird aspect about standpoint theory seems to support my “you-can-never-truly-see-the-world-through-someone-else’s-eyes” belief. Like when trying to retell an amusing story and it is coming out boring as hell, and you utter, “I guess you just had to be there.”

I am learning that in life to truly understand something you really “just have to be there.” Sure I could imagine what it was like to be grandfather, yet that is an entirely different experience than actually being one. Of course my only experience as a grandfather is via Facetime, Whatsapp, and Telegram as my little angel resides 6000 miles away in southern Argentina…and with the world as it is at the moment, I have no clue when I will ever hold that little guy in my arms.

I do know that being a digital e-grandfather, at the moment, is a FAR different experience than that of becoming a analogue father, some 32 years ago. I realize that becoming a dad for the first time is for the young, strong and uninitiated. No one has any idea what they are getting into for the rest of their lives. But this new grandfather perspective brings with it a concept that keeps resonating in my head.

Lineage.

Becoming a father means you have created a new life that you must raise to live in the world.

Becoming a grandfather means you have initiated a new line of human beings to live in the world.

To use an analogy, it is no longer building a single car in your garage, or two, or three, it is the grand opening of an automotive plant. An automotive plant with an assembly line that will keep churning out product long after we are expire.

Or at least that is how it feels.

It offers you an entirely different relationship with the world. We are now true “grandfathered” investors in the planet, while it is now not only the notion of lineage that feels so different, it is also its close cousin, legacy.

As I enter my older years in a very uncertain world (btw it has always been uncertain, today it is just a different type of uncertain) I care far more about what I will leave the planet because I realize there is nothing much more for me to take. Unlike the famous of yore who have statues or monuments built in their honor, I am happy with my simple, 7lb. 6oz. legacy.

Now I gaze into the eyes of Achilles Fitcarraldo Urbanovich and not only see an adorable angel, I see my monument. His little soft cries and cooing suffice to be my statues. No monument or statue in the world could mean more to me.

And I am fine that these signs of legacy be left in the hands of the young, strong and soon-to-be initiated. It is their turn now. When time once again allows it, I will gladly love on my little legacy, and be happy to leave before the diaper needs to be changed.

C’mon people. I’ve earned it.

And from where I stand, I will never see the world the same way.

 

Coronavirus: Threat Or Opportunity?

Just when I thought life could not get any stranger, it did. A mere week ago I had my trip to Cordoba, Argentina planned to witness the birth of my first grandchild. I worked tirelessly to get all my ducks in a row in order to be able to make such a trip during a very busy academic season. Long story short: Did not happen. However, my partner Rene’ was able to grab the very last flight that Argentina would allow into the country by pulling some strings and an American Airlines rabbit out of a hat.

But cross your fingers, as I write this she is still in the air…so who knows. (see the conclusion of this blog)

I dropped her off at a ghost town called LAX. Turns out I’m not the only one cancelling travel plans. As we exchanged our tearful goodbyes, it was amidst a vast sea of uncertainties, including not knowing when I will see her again…when everything hit me like a ton of bricks.

My guttural moans and weeping shrieks bubbled to the surface.

I broke down. Yes, I was guilty of uncontrollably weeping while driving.

I do not consider myself a very healthy emotional person. Unless healthy means hardly feeling anything when the shit goes down for months at a time, only to then let it all out in one giant weep fest.  A weep fest that sneaks up on you whenever it so chooses. Call it what you will, a weep fest or break down, in either case it is a barrage of feeling everything -at the same time.

Yes, a large reason I cried was because the love of my life was leaving for an uncertain period of time, but oh so much more.

The tears of grief, sadness and joy were fueled by:

  • My ailing and dying father.
  • Still grieving and missing my departed mother.
  • The selling of my childhood home.
  • The joy of the rekindling a relationship with my sisters after nearly twenty years of not speaking.
  • Sadness I will not get to hold my newborn grandson in my arms.
  • The joy of knowing I am going to be a grandfather.
  • Sadness I will not be there for my son and his wife in the most momentous event of their lives.
  • My new transition into my twilight years. Grandpa Jimmy.

Of course I cannot discount the Coronavirus social freak out that is happening globally at the moment. I know that was a huge part of the break down equation. But why?

This is now a new season of uncertainty for all of us. Just how bad is this public health crisis? No one knows. I do try to live by the creed that things are never as bad or good as they may seem at the moment. Therefore given this little proverb, things can only look up, cause things seem pretty damn bad.

For those who know me, they will be the first to tell you my thoughts on fear and the media. Fear is to media what gas is to my Honda or what a battery is to a Tesla. Therefore my initial inclination is this whole thing is fear on overdrive derived for profit by a soulless media.  And I still believe this, but only in part. The fear is real though they will take every opportunity to shove more fear down our throats, so long as it increases clicks and attracts eyeballs.

However, I have another fairly fundamental belief concerning the explanation as to why something may be happening: that of simply following the money. People do not turn their noses up to billions of dollars in untapped revenues. Rich individuals do not cancel events that costs them hundreds of millions of dollars for no good reason. And unless there is some mastermind conspiracy for global something or another, I have to believe the threat is very real and not even slightly conjured up. Sorry conspiracy theorists, can’t ride that train on this one.

I believe it is in all our best interests to see this health crisis as both an opportunity as well as a threat. Officials are instructing us to try to stay home as much as possible and, when in public, practice social distancing. This may be a perfect season to now start that novel you have always wanted to write, read that book you seem to never have time for, or watch some of those Netflix shows everyone’s been talking about for years. We can reconnect with loved ones or do those house projects we’ve been putting off. I plan on hiking up our property tomorrow and clearing out space to plant some new fruit trees. I can finish blogs I have started and never got around to finishing them. Maybe now is the perfect time to put away the booze and get sober or start that diet you’ve been putting off. Being as healthy we can be right now is a great idea. Other ideas:

  • Learn a new musical instrument
  • Watch some youtube videos on learning a new skill, perhaps learn how to clean those musty headlights on your car
  • Start the practice of meditation
  • If a student, get ahead on your reading. If not, just read!
  • Take long walks in nature
  • Paint a picture
  • Clean your room
  • Do what I did today…practice social distancing at the beach…while reading the biography of Leonardo Da Vinci (do you know he designed weapons for war?)
  • And the list goes on….

As far as the coronavirus itself? If we live wisely and practice smart sanitary living, chances are we are good. If not, the damn virus is going to do what the damn virus wants to do. We cannot live our lives worried about the “what ifs” in life. If we get sick? Try to get better. Perhaps this is also a time for us to grow as a person, in that we can learn to live amidst higher degrees of uncertainty. It is good thing to be reminded that nature is bigger and stronger than the rest of us. Learn to respect and appreciate life just a little bit more. Enjoy a big slice of humble pie.

I realize this pandemic will cause financial hardships for many. Now is a good time to get financially creative as well as generous for those in need.

Yes, I broke down in the car, though recovered and still realize I live in the same reality. Same issues. However, perhaps this is a time when I can reflect and work through some of my issues and practice gratitude and thankfulness for this beautiful thing we call life.

This is an opportunity to sit back (alone), take a deep breath, and hit life’s reset button.

We can learn a little something from the children of Italy who are painting signs all over the country, stating “Everything Will Be Alright.”

And it will.

One way or another.

Addendum: The day after I wrote this blog, Argentina would not allow Rene’s plane to disembark. She is flying back to Los Angeles as I write these words. At least in terms of seeing the love of my life soon, everything IS alright.

Attraction

Perhaps you know the feeling of walking into a room full of pleasant faces, and although each person appears friendly, only one face stands out. Even despite the fact that there may be a lot of physically attractive people in the room, you cannot seem to take your eyes off of one particular person. You can’t put your finger on the reasons why you are experiencing this, but you know there’s something that feels like a biological imperative driving you toward a specific person.

Today I write because I am fascinated with the concept of attraction: both initial attraction (instant) and derived attraction (over time). I find the idea of attraction deeply interesting. One might say I am attracted to the process of attraction.

Why do we occasionally feel it? Is it wrong to be attracted to someone even though you are “taken?” Who are we often attracted to? Do opposites attract or do “birds of a feather flock together?” Does initial attraction even matter or does the attraction you gain over time the only attraction that really means something? What does attraction even mean?

Attraction Defined

A definition would be a good place to start. According to god (aka google) attraction is defined as, “the action or power of evoking interest, pleasure, or liking for someone or something.”

As I instruct all my classes, textbook (or google) definitions are great though how might we define it in our own words?

Here is my offering: “That compelling positive connection one feels toward something or someone that results in desiring a deeper level of engagement with him/her/it. This feeling may or may not be reciprocated.

At its core, attraction remains somewhat of a mystery, even for those who study it for a living. We have all heard various theories about attraction. One such popular theory is that we are subconsciously romantically attracted to someone who resembles our parent of the opposite sex (perhaps same sex parent if gay?). Or the idea of complimentarity, meaning that we are attracted to someone whose strengths are our weaknesses and vice-versa, meaning we then “complete” each other. But, of course, this does not entirely explain that initial compelling interest we may have towards a particular someone.

I suppose these theories are all partly wrong and partly right as attraction is vastly complex.

And let’s face it, sometimes we just find some other person really hot. The proverbial smokeshow.

Underlying Attraction Assumptions

Let’s continue with several general observations.

First off, the act of being attracted to someone else is not a volitional choice in most circumstances. I recall an experience when I observed a jealous boyfriend sensing his girlfriend being attracted to someone else right before his very eyes, however subtle those clues may have been. Upon hearing of this jealousy, I remarked that attraction is often unavoidable; of course what you do with that attraction is a different conversation. When two people connect there is not a damn thing you can do about it and we cannot hold someone accountable for being a human and vibing with another human. It just happens. It’s a beautiful thing.

Secondly, attraction is certainly not relegated to the realm of romantic attraction. People of all genders, ages, ethnicity, etc., can be attracted to one another on a purely human level for any variety of reasons. As a straight male, I am attracted to certain other males and desire to hang with them. Thus when I use the word attraction, it can apply in a very general sense. There are people I am attracted to, of all aforementioned genders, ages and ethnicity. Rene’ and I call this the “click” factor.

For the purpose of this writing, I refer primarily to romantic attraction.

Finally, I believe attraction to be a great gift and a wonderful human experience. Perhaps because I am attracted to so few, when I do feel an attraction to someone it is a super good feeling. I know when my partner Rene’ experiences attraction I see a spark light up in her eyes and I am genuinely happy for her.  Simply, attraction can be fun and exciting.  It is one of life’s special perks.

How Important is Attraction?

Now here’s the point: Attraction must be taken for what it is, attraction. Attraction does NOT determine future compatibility nor provide an indicator of future relational satisfaction. We can be attracted to someone for a wide variety of extremely dysfunctional (read: fucked up) reasons, ranging from one’s own personal abusive experiences as a child to our love of well-sculpted jaw lines. In either case it does not inform us if the person is in our best interest as a friend or lover, as there exists both healthy and unhealthy attractions.

In terms of long-term relational satisfaction, initial attraction may draw us toward someone yet does not necessarily keep us with them. I am certain we have all had the experience of feeling some initial attraction toward someone and after five minutes of conversation the attraction turns to a mild or deep form of disgust. Or vice-versa. Or somewhere in-between. A person we may not have been attracted to at all can magically become quite appealing after engaging in some dialogue. In the biz we call this Interpersonal Attraction Theory. By having positive and warm encounters with each other we can literally become more mutually attractive to each other.

Now is when I will go all pragmatic on your ass and rip away all the magic of attraction. Any two people in a particular time, place and circumstance have the potential to be attracted to each other. Put me in the right room at the right time under the right situation, and, voila! attraction.

As mentioned, attraction is a fun experience but please let us take it for what it is worth: A tingly fun feeling that draws us towards someone. Perhaps an analogy is in order here. If I drive past a burger joint, say an In ‘n Out Burger, who famously pump out delicious scents of tasty burgers in the air for passerbys, I may be attracted into the restaurant by the lovely aroma. However, if the food is actually horrible and sickens me, the lovely scents mean absolutely nothing. I will never eat there again.

Attraction may draw us in though is no indicator if we will stay or if the food is in our best interest. We have a rational left brain for those decisions.

Yes, when I was 16 years of age I was attracted to a beautiful young girl named Rene’. Now, 41 years later, we have stayed together for over four decades not because she is a young beautiful brunette with a killer bod who can sing the lights out of any song. I am with her because I love her. Yes, our scents attracted us to each other, though it is hard work and perseverance that has pulled us through every challenge and difficulty.

The Triangular Theory of Love

Finally, I would like to discuss a related theory deemed the Triangular Theory of Love. It is a rather straightforward theory that suggests any successful romantic relationship must possess three basic “love” components: Intimacy, passion and commitment.

The creator of this theory, Robert J. Sternberg states, ” The three components of love interact with each other: For example, greater intimacy may lead to greater passion or commitment, just as greater commitment may lead to greater intimacy, or with lesser likelihood, greater passion. In general, then, the components are separable, but interactive with each other. Although all three components are important parts of loving relationships, their importance may differ from one relationship to another, or over time within a given relationship. Indeed, different kinds of love can be generated by limiting cases of different combinations of the components.”

I would argue (and its creator may disagree with me) that of these three, commitment stands out as the most necessary for a satisfying relationship. Why? Attraction, which I would place as a subset of passion as well as intimacy, will absolutely come and go, ebb and flow, be up and down, in any long term relationship. We may have long extended periods of little to no intimacy or passion, yet if we abandon commitment, it is a near guaranteed certainty that passion or intimacy will never be reignited.

There you have it. So the next time you are swept off your feet by that person across the room and feel all warm and tingly inside, enjoy! Attraction is a gift. Just realize that all that has happened is a successful exchange of “scents.” Now the hard work of determining whether to stay and eat or leave and vomit comes to play.

Good luck. Attraction is the fun part. Though if you think you may be in it for the long haul, commitment is the important part.

Another Walk Down Memory Lane: Cheating Revisited

I was perusing through some old blogs I have written (I am in my 8th year of blogging) for the purpose of finding out how some of my views have changed and evolved over the years -if at all. One particular blog that caught my eye concerned the subject of cheating, and not in the classroom exam or tax evasion sense, rather in the relational sense.

This particular blog entry received a lot of feedback…so perhaps it is time to revisit.

Since I wrote that entry back in August of 2015, a couple of things strike me. First off, it has been one of the longest blogs I have ever written -meaning I attempted to take some painstaking steps to truly be understood and not misinterpreted. Secondly, not only did I receive a lot of comments on the blog itself, it raised a lot of conversations in my “non-blog,” real life, as well. In fact, a WHOLE lot.

I would encourage you to read it if you have not done so. But, if not, I now provide you with the “Reader’s Digest” version (google it kids).

It is clearly a subject matter that not only has a lot of emotions attached to it, yet also a high level of relevance as well. It is an issue that has affected most people in some way, shape or form. If we ourselves have not cheated or been cheated on, I am certain all of us know many who have.

If I were to summarize my general argument contained in that entry nearly 5 years ago, the 4 bullet points would be as follows:

  • Cheating is a hugely emotionally volatile issue. Many “victims” of cheating cannot discuss it without feelings of deep hurt and anger. It is a trigger. It is difficult to look at the issue apart from our emotions and discuss it purely rationally. I understand this.
  • Cheating is absolutely pervasive. It happens more than we could possibly imagine and we can never know the real number of this highly secretive activity; yet a bit of logic suggests it is astronomically high.
  • In rare, “though protesteth too much” form, many of those who are most vocal and intolerant of cheaters, likely struggle the most with it. I do not say they cheat (though likely do) they just really want to.
  • Finally, I ask why do we harbor such gross intolerance over a behavior that most everyone struggles with at some level? Many people would rather divorce or break up than to work through the psycho dynamics of “cheating,” which, I argue, is a natural human propensity. Unfortunately for most, cheating is a deal breaker. I find this very unfortunate.

So Has My Position Changed Since 2015?

Yes, somewhat, and now I am a bit more nuanced in my thinking as I do so see some value in attempted monogamy. I now would liken the goal of monogamy to anything in life we strive for, even while confronting the strong probability we will not achieve it, though not due to a lack of effort. Back in the day when I ran marathons, I trained very hard full well knowing I was not going to win, but that did not stop me from trying. Attempting to win made me a better runner. More on this in a moment.

Cheating, Jealousy and Salience

I realize that at the heart of this issue lies the correlating ideas of honesty, healthy communication, betrayal, and….

Jealousy. A shit ton of jealousy. Perhaps even the very existence of cheating is driven by a very unhealthy feeling of jealousy.

Jealousy may be to cheating what overeating is to obesity. Without the former there would be no latter.

Yes, if a loved one promises you they are going to do, or not do, something and violate that something, it hurts. Yet, it only hurts to the extent we give that violation salience (meaning the level of meaning and importance we attach to it, in the sense that, “everything is what you make it”). If your loved one promised they would stop and pick up a loaf of bread on their way home from work and forget to do so, I doubt many of us would harbor deep, ill will towards that loved one. Unless, of course, we gave the act of picking up a loaf of bread great salience in the relationship. And that is our choice. And how we react to anything is ultimately our choice.

The reality is that most of us give the issue of cheating an extremely high level of relevance. It is an issue that stands out above all other potential issues in a relationship.

And it is this salience of “cheating” of which I am most fundamentally concerned.

Because we give this “violation” so much centrality, we will continue to propagate dishonesty, feelings of betrayal, jealousy and hurt.

At the core of such propagation, lies many myths surrounding the human condition. The myth of monogamy as “natural” (no need to repeat myself if you read the original blog); the myth that we are robot-like and lack real human emotion and drives; and, finally, the myth that attraction is self-generated and we are responsible for those in whom we find ourselves attracted (oooo….perhaps the notion of attraction should be my next blog….I am fascinated with it).

In addition, mainstream culture makes the mistake of assuming it. Like every other issue in a relationship, the idea of striving for monogamy (or not) must be a discussed and negotiated aspect of any mature relationship. As an old acquaintance, Cara, once told me when explaining her divorce, “We were in an open relationship. He just forgot to tell me about it.”

Now Back To My Change.

As previously stated, I am not suggesting AT ALL that striving for monogamy cannot be a great discipline and, in many cases could be the gold standard for many couples (conceding that every relationship is different and we must honor the uniqueness for every couple to define their relationship in their own way). It may be the striving after monogamy that keeps us separate from most other animal species. I absolutely concede that there may be a lot of value in attempting it…perhaps this is where I differ most from 2015 Jimmy.

Now, that said, the problem lies not in our attempt to pull-off a feat that is quite unnatural (monogamy), it is our reaction when one engages in an act that is very natural (an extra relational affair). Rather than ending a relationship for attempting something many would consider quite noble, perhaps we should recognize the virtue of attempting it. Or at least we need to be understanding of it. Or, dare I suggest forgiving of it? Hell, maybe we can use it to make us stronger, to help redefine our relational identity and objectives. Yes, navigating the waters of trust building and reconciliation can be very, very difficult yet we can hope that our love will overcome the transgression of a human acting like a human.

Why? Who knows? You may be the next one to succumb to your human instincts. And who will need understanding and forgiveness then?

Alright, I know most of you reading this probably disagree with me. Say what you want, at least I’m somewhat consistent. Now check back with me in another 5 years for, “Cheating 2025.” At this rate, I may be pushing celibacy.