Might As Well Be Here Now

I have heard that Jesse Helms once described Chapel Hill as the “North Carolina Zoo.” I am pretty sure he was not trying to be flattering. However, for many people who lived here at that time it was a compliment. It was evidence that Chapel Hill was an interesting and unique place. Too bad Chapel Hill is no longer so interesting. Perhaps it is time to consider a radical New Year’s resolution. In 2009 let’s raise Chapel Hill’s interest quotient (IQ). The first step in this process may be the hardest. We will have to break through our collective denial and admit that we have become the least interesting point of the three major communities that form the Triangle. A relatively short time ago it would have been unthinkable to suggest that either Raleigh or Durham was a more interesting place than Chapel Hill. However, over the past fifteen or twenty years both cities have aggressively built on their strengths and added to their IQ. Durham has reinvented old areas and neighborhoods to creat...

Entrance to the Apatachee Correctional Institution Some of you may know Brad. If not, you may know someone like him. He used to be an attorney in Pittsboro and an active soccer dad in our community. He is now serving a fifteen year prison sentence in Florida at the Apatachee Correctional Institution. He has been there for about a year. He was arrested in Pittsboro as part of a “sting operation” conducted by the Florida State Police. Brad pleaded guilty to a series of internet-related sex offenses. My family knew Brad for several years prior to his arrest and we were shocked when we learned about what he had done. Brad and I have exchanged letters quite a few times since his incarceration. I got a touching letter from Brad this week. He wrote it on the morning of Inauguration Day. He described his hope that he and his fellow inmates would be allowed to watch the inauguration on television. He was optimistic because they had been allowed to watch television on election night. He wrote, ...

Listening to conservative talk radio is painful. The radio hosts on these programs don't just express their ignorance. They celebrate it. Radio stations that broadcast these programs should require the hosts to read Surgeon General warning labels each hour because their programs are hazardous to our mental health. Unfortunately for me, I have a perverse curiousity about these programs, their hosts, and their audiences. I often wonder how the hosts will creatively distort reality to match their audience expectations. This week I listened to Rush Limbaugh and his clone-in-the-Triangle, Bill Lemay of WPTF radio. I can listen for only a few minutes at a time (see Surgeon General warning). Therefore, the following is just a sampling of comments about Obama and his inauguration from the right wing radio perspective: True conservatives should hope that Obama fails. Obama's goal is to implement a "socialist agenda." Bill Ayers is going to be running the Dept. of Education fro...

and then guess who really sent it.* TO: Ewe@yahoo.com FROM: SupremeBeing@earthlink.net For reasons that are mysterious to me, I feel compelled to violate an important rule of our relationship. I am offering advice that you have not asked for. You and I both know that you have not sought my opinion about anything important in a very long time. In fact, we have really lost touch with each other over the years. We just sort of “check in” around holidays, weddings, or funerals. But these “check ins” have become so ritualized that they no longer have much meaning for me. I suspect they have lost meaning for you, too. I feel like I have been trying for ages to send you subtle, indirect messages. These signals were intended to let you know that we need to start paying more attention to each other. A few times the signals have been very dramatic and temporarily gotten your attention. Yet, I continue to believe that I am not having a significant impact. Therefore, I am taking a mor...

I belong to a Men’s Group at a local church that has a paradoxical mission. Our group strives to do ... nothing. This goal is not a surprise to our wives or significant others. We have no agenda, no curricula, and no program. We seldom start on time. No one brings food. Sometimes somebody will bring a six pack of beer to share. We do make one concession to structure: We start each meeting with a time for individuals to “check in.” This is a brief time for members to introduce a topic or to talk about something important that may have occurred since the last meeting. Sometimes we never move beyond check-in. When we do, someone always has an issue to get us started. About once a year someone from the church where we meet will ask us to do something. We have been asked to work in soup kitchens and to work on fundraising activities. Once we were even asked to lead a Sunday service. So far, we have respectfully but firmly declined. I do not think we decline because we are lazy. We decline b...

A tribute to the late William Hollister, MD As I walked offstage I was sure Bill would be angry or at least disappointed. I had nearly ruined the opening night of the opera that he had spent the previous eight years of his life writing. My only consolation was that I knew how much worse it could have been. Bill Hollister’s opera, The Inca’s Chosen Bride, told the story of an ancient South American legend about two lovers whose lives were complicated by politics, family loyalties, and warfare. The concept and musical theme for the opera first occurred to Bill when he read about the legend as a young anthropology student in the early 1930s. The concept and musical theme stuck in his mind. Many years later Dr. Hollister retired from a remarkable career as an innovative community psychiatrist. For a lot people that would have been enough but, Bill quickly focused his attention on creating the opera that was still in his head. He took university courses to fill gaps in his knowledge of adva...

Every afternoon I stop at the light at the intersection of 15-501 and I-40 and I talk to the men who panhandle there. It is usually the only interesting moment in my daily commute. This week I asked one of the panhandlers if he and his friends needed anything. I said, “With the holiday coming up do you guys need anything for Christmas?” The man paused and tilted his head as people often do when considering a question. After a few seconds he smiled and said, “Nope. We’re good.”The light changed and I drove away thinking about the irony of panhandlers who do not need anything. The man I spoke to is one of several people who live in the woods near the interstate ramp and panhandle every day. Most of these people have lived near the same interstate highway ramp for years. They sleep in tents regardless of the weather. They share their limited resources and help each other out. Their lifestyle is not easy or healthy. Several of the panhandlers have died from serious illnesses or have been m...

I often feel like the talking heads on television are using the threat of terrorism as a tool to manipulate us. They sometimes appear to exaggerate the threat as a way of appearing patriotic or important. I do not trust them to be accurate in their predictions about the real risks associated with possible terrorist attacks. Lately, the only television talking heads I do trust are the people at the Weather Channel. I rely on them in the morning to offer solid predictions about the day’s weather based on expert opinions. I rely on them to tell the truth in the middle of the night when I wake up and need to be distracted from myself. The familiar talking heads at the Weather Channel speak to me as trusted, stable, consistent professionals. The Weather Channel people do not scream at each other like the politicians and pseudo journalists on television. They do not have disguised political objectives that they promote through their weather predictions. They just present the truth as wel...

My brother and I argue about politics and world affairs. Actually, we have been engaged in a single, ongoing argument for most of our lives. We argue on the telephone. We argue during family dinners. We argue in restaurants, bars and on the golf course. We often make other people uncomfortable because the argument is loud, intense, and angry. The argument first started when we were in high school, but its intensity did not peak until the early seventies and the Viet Nam War. He enlisted.* I resisted. The only thing we seemed to have in common after the war was the need to argue about it. During our older adult lives the basic argument branched out to include a wider range of topics. We argued about economics and social issues. We argued about the pros and cons of public welfare. We argued about the threat of corporate greed. We argued about affirmative action, gay rights, abortion rights, the death penalty, and other important issues that mattered. On each of these issues he always cho...

Forty years ago when we were both children, I was afraid of Sharon Price. I felt uncomfortable around her. I thought her appearance and behavior were strange. Sharon seldom spoke. When she did, I could not understand her. She laughed loudly and randomly. Sharon never looked directly at me or anyone else. She just stared at the floor. I remember my mother whispering to me, "Sharon is mentally retarded." But no one explained to me what that meant. The women in our family referred to her as "poor little Sharon." The men never said a word about her at all. In those days Sharon's significant cognitive disability was not the most problematic circumstance in her life. She grew up in a difficult neighborhood in Louisville, Kentucky. Her father, Jesse James Price, spent most of her childhood in prison. During his brief periods of freedom, Jesse abused alcohol and engaged in other behaviors that guaranteed return engagements in "the pen." When Sharon was 14, Jes...

Even if you do not see them, they are there. Every day they are standing at the stoplight at the interstate ramp of I-40 at 15-501. They are holding signs that say, “Homeless, Stranded, Need Help.” You might occasionally glance at them but you are careful to avoid eye contact. You wonder if they are really stranded and homeless. You wonder how much money they make. You wonder if they would accept an ordinary day job if someone offered it. You wonder what type of condition, circumstance, or character flaw allows these men to degrade themselves by begging for change at freeway stops. You occasionally take quick glances at their faces and see vacant, distant, pathetic expressions. You begin to notice the same expression on the faces of many other highway beggars in the area. You wonder what their lives are really like. Maybe you do not wonder about any of this at all, but many of us do. I did. I became curious about two men who I had noticed standing every day at the 15-501 Exit off of...

A satire on the future of healthcare. Customer Service Representative (CSR): Hello. My name is Susan. I am your Touchstone Health Care Customer Service Representative, CSR for short. This call may be recorded to ensure quality and compliance with federal regulations. How may I help you today? Ralph: My name is Ralph and I am calling to get an authorization for a medical procedure. CSR: Ralph, are you a patient or a medical professional? Ralph: Patient. CSR: I'm sorry, Ralph, but Touchstone only authorizes procedures that are requested by a licensed physician. Ralph: But I was told by my doctor that I could directly request an assisted suicide from Touchstone. CSR: Yes, sir, that is correct. Assisted suicide is an exempt procedure. We need only an automated order from your physician and your verbal statement requesting the procedure. Please give me your account number, and I can verify your doctor's automated request. Ralph: 2175-002-4569. CSR: Thank...

Printed as a letter-to-the-editor, Durham Herald, Nov. 2008 One of the men who panhandle at the intersection of 15-501 and I-40 died this month. His name was Bulldog. He had lived in the woods and panhandled at the same interstate ramp for about six years. Bulldog claimed to be a former Navy Seal. I do not know if that was true but ironically, he was buried on Veteran’s Day. Bulldog died, in part, due to his lack of health insurance. Like most homeless people, Bulldog’s health history was complex and his treatment inadequate. He had learned to cope with numerous chronic health problems but, he eventually died from a staph infection that went untreated for too long. Around thirty-five people attended Bulldog’s funeral. Some of the people at the funeral were what Bulldog called “church people.” They were serious Christians who tried for several years to help Bulldog with his spiritual and physical needs. The rest of the people at the funeral were fellow panhandlers who thought of...

Since the days of Aristotle, people have recognized and written about the power of a good apology. When individuals or institutions make mistakes someone must apologize. Without an apology the process of healing gets stuck. Unfortunately, most elected officials do not seem to understand the ethical necessity and the practical value of just saying, “I am sorry.” Governor Easley is a good example of an elected official who will leave office without seizing one significant opportunity to apologize. He could start by apologizing for his role in the failure of mental health reform. He could say that he is sorry for not paying enough attention to the mental health system until it was too damaged for him to repair. He could say that he is sorry for not recognizing that some aspects of mental health “reform” were flawed from the beginning and should have been repealed. He could express his regret for not taking stronger action to protect people with disabilities who were victimized by inadequa...

“Turn on Channel 3 News, now!” my wife shouted from upstairs. She sounded serious. I switched channels just in time to see our friend, Sam, being escorted by police into the Chatham County Jail. Sam was in handcuffs. He looked confused. A news reporter was saying, “The suspect, a Pittsboro attorney, was arrested earlier today at his home for a series of Internet sex crimes.” The reporter said that our friend, Sam was charged with sending child pornographic images over the Internet. The report went on to explain that Sam was arrested as part of an interstate sting operation conducted by Florida State Police. My wife, Carol, came downstairs looking stunned. She said, “Can you believe this? This must be some kind of mistake.” I agreed. At that moment, the news report was unbelievable to me. I thought it was more plausible that the police had made a mistake and arrested the wrong person. We had known Sam and his family for about five years. We were not close friends but certainly friendly...