u/Fine_Beginning2668

The former president had an interesting background of navigating the final cracks and fall of the Wall... and ushering in an era of sand and oil wars... with the first war in Iraq led by Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney.

Bush 41 was a pilot in WWII... and part of the greatest generation... and has a large stone on his family compound of Kennebunkport at Walker’s Point with the letters “CAVU” painted boldly on it...

Ceiling And Visibility Unlimited...

Something a pilot… and all of us... see... when we get enough elevation to rise above the mist and the darkness... when the Force is strong...

but the Darkside overtakes us...

before the Iight can... when we are quiet when a colleague gets fired in front of the entire office... and everyone in the room where it happened is left to unpack that trauma… on their own…

the Darkside of the legacy of Jack Welch...

And an epic journey many white caller workers will be on as the office modernizes... from the Mad Men days... led by the AI revolution...

in good and bad ways…

The next trillionaire will figure out the X between the human and AI side of work... and the right size of a UBI for stability… and investment... for the middle class who doesn’t invest... except through their retirement account... There are of course exceptions that prove the rule...

It is in that moment before you see CAVU... through the darkness... there is the kindness of strangers... who give out food at the Roadrunner Food Bank... or clothes at Locket 505... through a network of churches and schools... who coordinate resources to help parents navigate the new world of work... who anonymously drop off a full library of books for your daughter... and a princess sign...

and if you are fortunate enough...

a special someone…

no matter what comes your way… they are right there loving you through it all...

Quiet... simple... consistent...

As Obi-Wan said…

“If you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”

“I’m not who I used to be.”

A ablessing of blessings for this generation…

“The Force will be with you... Always.”

and as Matthew wrote...

“...to the end of the age.”

https://youtu.be/ErjtFtRi9Xo?s

The hummingbirds flutter-a-buzz through the Siberian Elms... planted in the New Deal era throughout the southwest...

“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.”

a proverb widely circulated during the post-WWII reconstruction...

and as Rabbi Johanan ben Zakkai wrote much earlier... “If you are holding a sapling in your hand and someone tells you, ‘The Messiah is here!’—first finish planting the tree…”

and now in their fractal shadows... the honeysuckle in full bloom... the smell of honey after a downpour… as the first bands of raindrops fall before the monsoon season... and water from the sky hits the dust remembered... as it turns to rich mud… the musty smell of a blessing in a desert...

The newest grape vines are beginning to climb the arbors with abandon... Iris bloom majestic as student mariachi dancers in matching violet and silver celebrate Cinco de Mayo in an outdoor block party at Riverside... in honor of the famous battle of Mexico over the French... back in the day... All under 1000 shades of baby blue in the friendly skies over the 505 area code...

in fly-over country...

A thick mist dissipates from nature’s fog machine on the distant Sandias... as the setting sun gives way to a crystal clear Flower Moon.

... and a white SUV lightening speeds past with a custom license plate “CRZYGRNDMA”... and it makes you wonder sometimes... of all the choices for your license plate... you went with that one..

Some great advice I received from a philosopher poet college friend... Theron...

“You can be right.. or you can be happy... but you can’t be both...”

I didn’t listen to him...

Former Speaker of the House Paul Ryan gave some great advice by describing US Congress as rugby... and the US Senate as golf in his exit interview...

https://youtu.be/YIGwqUBvuqM

And as Senator Palpatine reminded us... “Enter the bureaucrat. The true rulers of the Republic…” ... and in America... the state and federal bureaucracy that is the fourth branch of government... and does in fact control much of the decision making in a republic turning into an empire.

On the East portico of the Capital steps Lincoln spoke of “charity for all...” And on the West Front... there was a day America didn’t get it quite right... by wanting to be right...

I don’t talk about J6 much... because it was one of those days we stopped wanting to be one nation... And a subject where no one is neutral… one of the most radioactive subjects in America... although... there is a fair look in Alexandra Pelosi’s documentary... “The Insurrectionist Next Door” part of the Video Library of the Handsome and Brave...

Alexandra Pelosi grew up in and around the beltway... and yet... understands the blind spots of affluence enough... to talk to folks outside of her area code in flyover country... In her VICE documentary she introduced us to some retiring folks in Congress and what they learned... who came there as a Mr. and Mrs. Smith and left knowing a lot more about what it means to allocate trillions of dollars with a single vote...

The only limitation to that kind of unbridled power... term limits... and a peaceful transition of power...

the American experiment...

began by the British empire but forged by its independence of it... and eventually strengthened by a reconciliation as an ally… the greatest of…

The peaceful transition of power from Carter to Reagan or from Biden to DJT is the hallmark of a great nation...

The Iran hostages were being held, and negotiation of their release was being coordinated by the Carter Administration until noon and then the Reagan administration took power and the hostages were released... all in an afternoon... in peace...

Biden handed the presidency back to DJT... something that wasn’t formally handed off four years earlier... a recent precedent of intense public rhetoric of not conceding began earlier with Stacy Abrams in a Governor’s race in GA.

When you look at a country... or a family… broken…

there is somethings both sides can get wrong…

by being right…

We live in a country where a handful of businessmen bought a presidency with William McKinley …

Anything is possible... in America...

In a city run by Tammany Hall... folks voted early and often...

Some corruption Grover Cleveland... the other non-consecutive two term president... later took head on... and clashed with as mayor and governor...

Sometimes gathering around the whisky barrel to vote gets gnarly... just as our founders might have envisioned... with a smile... because it beat the alternative... of an overbearing monarchy or dictatorship lording over subjects with no voice at all... around a whiskey barrel or otherwise...

A republic turned an empire is messy...

DJT understood the unheard forgotten man… the wisdom of that crowd... and yet... with the chip on their shoulder... unchecked... mixed with a few nefarious characters acting in bad faith... compromising both computer votes and paper ballets in very creative ways by undermining the integrity with a few isolated cases of fraud or irregularities... and yet... still planted seeds of doubt... and fear... that folks’ vote didn’t count…

translation... your voice was not heard...

And as MLK reminded us... “a riot is the language of the unheard.”

...and then other nefarious characters guiding a crowd down a tunnel of destruction... including a haunting scene at the end of Alexandra Pelosi’s documentary...

something you can’t unsee...

All starting with a still small voice... from the pit of hell... and folks were hurt or killed on both sides whether on that day... or in the aftermath...

The world since that day is becoming infinitely bigger with AI... in a healthy way... and politics is turning more local... more like in other golden ages in America... where you knew your neighbor...

Mrs. Lee was my piano teacher... and taught me a really good life lesson...

“Perfect practice makes perfect...”

I listened... sometimes...

A heavy smoker and the most brilliant mind I have ever met in my life…

She differentiated my instruction masterfully... unlike my sister who was a fast reader... and could read music while playing... which is the model piano student...

Mrs. Lee saw me... different...

I was a slow reader who could memorize music by sight of the keys on the keyboard...

There was an early computer program on our PC my dad brought home which tracked your eye movement with a dot first... then a letter... then a word... then a sentence... and sped up gradually (some early AI) and it helped my reading both words and music... where it wasn’t like watching a movie in slow-motion anymore...

At the same time... Mrs. Lee worked with me on my reading speed of music for a few times early in class... then the lion’s share of time was invested practicing “perfect” on memorizing songs... so I could enter an annual piano competition “Stars of Tomorrow...” about the music itself... not just the sheet music...

Mrs. Lee learned many languages... traveled to China and around the world on her vacation as a second-grade teacher... which was her day job... and then after hours she studied the dictionary with my sister who exceled in spelling bee competitions...

She had a close call in a car on a mountain road... where it slid down an embankment and it made her afraid to drive in ice and snow... that was when my mother... a Reagan Republican... helped out...

On election day she drove through the snow and ice with my piano teacher who was a Mondale Democrat in the general election to the polls to vote together... and cancel each other’s votes out... in the real time...

Anything is possible... in America...

We are not who we were that day...

Or the day Lincoln spoke of “malice towards none” and an infamous angry stranger lurked in the crowd... John... as the legend goes... the brother of a famous American Shakespearean actor Edwin... who saved the life of Robert Todd Lincoln on a train platform... a spectrum of shades of grey in the same family...

In America we always rise higher after a fall... we became a superpower after a war of brother against brother from the rubble and ashes...

Like Grover Cleveland... DJT took on New York as an outsider from Queens... then later a string of divorces and bankruptcies... and a comeback so epic... he is part of history now...

Joe Biden had a childhood “disability”... turned superpower... a stutter... reading poetry out loud to conquer it... and built a successful life around public speaking from his struggle...

One of them was elected that year… and four years later... the other one was...

And what of the golden age ahead?

One nation...

“Perfect practice make perfect...”

or as John Williams spoke of his Boston Pops... “A standard of excellence”.

Music is about precision... even the dissonance... is planned...

Unless it is like free-form jazz... which is more like life sometimes... where dissonance finds you... discord comes uninvited... or invited... when you want to be right... enough...

When there is strife in your home even the dogs pick up on it... the same proton and electron atomic energy force can turn a crowd of honest Americans into a mob... with the mentality thereof...

“Love thy neighbor” is hard... when you don’t like them... or they say stupid shit... or say things like “I don’t know about that?” to whether the sky is blue or not... or talk to you on a hard day... or at the end of a long day... when everyone is tired and just needs to break bread first... before words...

or a day where you get it completely wrong… on a cold early January...

Two men in the TR’s arena “who errs, who comes short again and again…” just on different days…

“I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.”

DJT’s failures were as epic as his successes… and yet... he stayed in the fight... Uncle Joe conquered a stutter and a long string of election losses... and didn’t quit... until “time and chance” aligned…

We are not who we were… anymore…

and that in and of itself is a blessing...

“new every morning...” down Sheriff’s Posse Road along the river dividing the 505... and on the banks... an old faded pecan baby grand piano... warped on the top... from the high desert beating sun and monsoons...

“There are no fixer-upper pianos!” is a nugget of wisdom I learned from our district piano tuner... Cindy... back in the day...

so just a memory now... overlooking an embankment above the shimmering river rapids...

So... on that one fateful day in January... where America decided not to be one nation...

if only for a moment...

Who was right and who was wrong?

Who was wrong by being right?

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes.”

When a man is in love… he will write anything…

“Your stature is like a palm tree,

and your breasts are like its clusters.

I said, ‘I will climb the palm tree

and take hold of its fruit.’”

or

“I Believe (When I Fall in Love It Will Be Forever)” ... The “Song of Songs” and the song from Stevie Wonder… of Mo-Town... bringing a new song from the south out of a Jim Crowe Era... for all the world to hear…

To make “a new song”... of the south…

Not one of just “Zippity do da” for some folks.. and others… who live in the darkest of shadows “of sunshine heading my way...”

a song of love and the blues...

The story of the song of the Tennessee River... the folklore of a people from my great great grandmother’s lineage along a trail of tears...

a country that lost its way...

and the only clarity...

the next step...

a community divided… wandering through a country divided…

in a larger story of a comeback… and a larger rendezvous with history… something bigger than one generation... a foundation for all generations from every nation on earth...

Lynyrd Skynyrd recorded early sessions at Muscle Shoals Sound Studio in their musical journey by the Tennessee River… a spiritual place…

I went to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert at Cheyenne Frontier Days with my brother back in the day. It was an epic event… standing room only… and a crowd chanting “Free Bird” after every song with a giant confederate flag backdrop… which was a unique site in Wyoming which was always a free territory and state…

And then…

The flag came down and a single spotlight on a golden bird statue mounted on a white grand piano… as the famous pianist came out for the encore... and an epic piano rift…

a new song from the south...

I will never forget as long as I live...

His name was “Singing John”…

The stories in Anger Class are confidential stories… so I don’t share those... however I will say it is a class that is not a punishment… but an experience amongst a pack of guys willing to do the work...

and Singing John…

He shared stories of trauma and brokenness from his life... and redemption too…. and he always wanted to share a song at the end of class...

He had a debilitating health condition that declined steadily and you always wondered if it was going to be his last song each week... and then it was...

He had a memorial along the river this month... a new song...

Stories of the unheard with clinched fists…

staving off the language of the unheard... as MLK talked about... and seeing a larger pattern as “The arc of the moral universe bends toward justice” ... and we are not who we were yesterday... and fists become unclenched...

open hands…

The older I get… the more I see the patterns… of growing up in the middle class… worrying about what other folks thought… who would never come to your funeral...

It was like middle school “Everyone is watching and no-one is watching at the same time...” Presentation is an integral part of the Middle Class… and the WASP work ethic as the template...

An honest look at our history helps us learn from the times we wandered along a trail… we were never meant to travel…

and yet…

still built something from it… something real… something truly American… that begins anew… every breaking dawn…

A different type of song... of the south…

A place of deep fried perfection… bacon grease on green beans… and butter… on everything…

the birthplace of NASCAR… the Bible Belt… “Let’s Go Brandon!” and an ancient but new song from a river on the Alabama border…

and a President Jackson who protected our country from an English evasion which laid the foundation for a continent-wide “one nation”…

and yet…

sent a whole community of folks… businessman… farmers… and the like… down a trail of tears…

to what end?

The true measure of a man?

The times he gets it right… and the times he gets it wrong…

It was a early morning Team meeting... where my acolyte came in and wanted to share the latest book she read called “Let Them” by Mel Robbins… seen here unpacking a lot with Simon Sinek…

https://youtu.be/JP5USHGSF8o

and I could see in my acolyte’s eyes she was liberated by the fact that you can let your entire family put all the laundry in one load and turn all the whites grey...ish... oatmeal color… and it won’t steal your peace...

I got excited because it sounded like something I was working on with another teammate… a strategy which turned into a year and a half misadventure… that was completely bonkers... for everyone.

If I would entitle that episode of my career as a manager it would be… “Rogue One” employee…

Full disclaimer: this is probably a misuse of the theory… but it is a hilarious story for the grandkids…

As John Maxwell said recently…

“The moment I started sharing the real stuff — the misses, the hard seasons, the moments I got it wrong — something shifted. People didn't think less of me. They saw themselves in me.”

America doesn’t need a new song… it reinvents a song… with every breaking dawn…

“A Song of Songs…”

and as Whitman wrote….

“A song of myself”

each day…

With someone who walks beside you every step and reminds you of who you really are…

and…

to always…

“Own the Moment...

and shine in your story...”

An anonymous poet once wrote…

“Thy word is a lamp into my feet and a light into my path …”

And as Jack Handey wrote in his “Deep Thoughts”

If a child asks you why is it raining?

just say… “it’s God crying…”

And if they ask why is God crying?

just say… “it is probably something you did…”

The gentle spring rains turns into tributaries through mountains and build into a river called Grand… carving a path through sand and sagebrush right through the heart of the 505 on a balmy Saturday… in the garden… for another daddy-daughter day…

A paved path meanders through the roses and poppies… as the dragonflies land on lillypads… and the smell of golden honeysuckle fills the air…

a new garden every week…

along river walk beside still waters...

Love… hope… life…

Leaders lead by example... Obama and DJT alike... both outsiders... both ran for the presidency when it wasn’t their turn... both have impressive families... shining from outside their long shadow...

Although raising kids does involve winning the kid lottery… like me and mine… with my lil’ math wiz - first in her class… full stop.

Raising kids is hard... sleepless nights... a lot of bedtime prayers... and doing rock… paper… scissors… to see who gets to say them... out loud...

It takes intention... for sure... to do it imperfectly perfect... whether you are a pet parent... human parent.. or both...

and as the simple poet and radio DJ… Mike Pence… said of his old boss in a convention speech... “you can’t fake good kids…”

“Eye’s up” as my friend would say...

And yet... unlike Obama and DJT... Millard Filmore and John Tyler were forgettable presidents...

Tyler left the presidency and literally joined the government of the confederacy as a congressman. Throughout his life he pulled a King Solomon or a Ganges Kahn and populated a large portion of VA. He had so many descendants he still had grandkids living this decade that were only 3 degrees of Kevin Bacon separation from the grandfather who lived in the 1800’s.

Filmore escalated the division in America before the Civil War… but his lasting legacy is what he did for his family…

He built a home with his bare hands legend goes... with maybe an axe or two... and some help...

So what is the true measure of man?

Having an epic scale of global power... for a time... a scale larger than the Kings and Emperors of old... or that you built a home for you and yours… in a labor of love…

In the smoke of division and riots after the George Floyd tragedy... DJT held a small bible up... outside St. John’s is known as the “Church of the Presidents” ... attended by every U.S. president since James Madison.

The question remains…

Why would the most powerful man in the world hold up a bible?

Great communicators will tell you...

most communication is non-verbal...

DC Talk played on one of their tracks... a clip from a speech…“The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians…”

And yet... what we learn about Jesus outside of public schools... is he didn’t care about public schools... because they didn’t exist...

He was a revolutionary...

The folks that hated him the most were religious... the ones that said all the right things... but treated people like shit...

He saw them… the powerless... the unpolished… the unheard folks... first... and flipped over tables on the religious and powerful...

I went to a Christian college at the gateway of the Ozarks... and slept through many chapel amateur speeches from Bible majors... about how the “Friends” sitcom script was written by Satan himself... and “What if God was One of Us?” was sacrilege because it called God a “slob”… and Joan Osborne may or may not have been a witch... we report you decide...

It did make you appreciate the Max Lucado-esque type speeches... that were clearly spoken about how life really was... and encouraged us to search the scripture... and not take a hot take from a college bible student who hadn’t seen enough life yet... but loved to read from first opinions with chapter and verse of whatever...

and yet...

searching the scriptures became “a light unto” a path winding through the darkest of shadows... and “still small voice” that spoke in the quiet… when the noise of chapel speeches faded away ... and heard… “get the experience... and you can change the world...”

And as Oprah says “no experience is wasted” and do not be intimated… you have everyone that has ever prayed for you… behind you…

in any room where it happens…

Full stop.

https://youtu.be/HVg2s0zx42M

One of the fun facts of our American constitutional republic turned empire is that the most powerful person in the room depends on proximity...

The most powerful?

A local sheriff’s office is one of the oldest institutions in American government with roots from English common law... and therein grows the legend… that sheriffs are the ultimate local authority....

although not unlimited... in reality they still have state and federal checks and balances...

and yet...

The most popular?

The city worker Team who installed the green covered metal trashcans on the walking paths... with fully stocked free bags for dog shit… from Happy… our 7lb Mini Aussie… every morning...

keeping Rio Rancho... and the bottom of your shoes... smelling beautiful... one doggie bag at a time...

An assassination of a public figure is an assault on the first amendment...

and one of an elected sitting president... an assault on Article II… and a mighty one nation who elected him...

A tragic moment can change a trajectory of history… with an Archduke Ferdinand who took an afternoon drive in a Gräf & Stift Double Phaeton...

or a business mogul John Jacob Astor IV and President Taft’s military aide and close confidant, Major Archibald Butt... boarding the Titanic.

Although not as handsome as Leo DeCaprio’s character... they were powerful men who went down with the ship... and history took a dark turn... when a new chapter began...

After the Lincoln assassination… his vision expanded on the foundation from deals with Brigham Young and other leaders in the west… who opened territory free from slavery… and launching the transcontinental railroad when he signed the Pacific Railway Act...

... a new chapter shaped not only by US Presidents and Queen Victoria… but by business leaders and governors to build the country a new...

Some business leaders met the moment... empire builders who had what Reagan would have called “a rendezvous with destiny”...

Rockefeller missed a train... that ended the line killing many on board...

Trump missed a helicopter ride... and an assassins’ bullets...

There are brave men and women who protected the Obama Family because of the disproportionate amount of hatred towards that historic presidency... the first family to show America its better angels and live in a white house built by slaves...

as Michelle said...

“when they go low... we go high”.

Leaders are giants among us… who know the risks… and take them anyway...

Before the railroad there were no standard Time zones... The farmer got up when the cock crowed… and went to bed with the setting sun… and the cricket song under the moonlight...

The center of power and time shifted after the railroads to revolve around a Grand Central Station… developed by titan families like Vanderbilt…

Standard Kerosene and Oil brought light to a world limited... by sunlight...

and darkness no longer ruled the end of the day...

This was Lincoln’s vision of “one nation” and in due time the railroads united a divided country...

but then take a closer look into each community… the tracks divided communities along poverty and wealth... and south of the Mason Dixon line is was along race...

Throughout the 505 like in any-town in America... train tracks and cross streets divide the communities with invisible perimeters... that might as well be ten-foot walls...

We live in one nation...

of both...

DJT and Obama...

Simon Sinek and Jack Welch...

and in the in-between?

His name was Frank...

He grew up on the wrong side of the tracks… but had a mind that never quit… then as Frank described it... he met one of the founders of Apple... who saw him... in the 505...

He saw the talent for tech... and gave him a scholarship to Albuquerque Academy... a foot in the door… where he would earn a leadership position at Central New Mexico Community College (CNM) building tech labs and now is on the forefront of the AI revolution... innovating each iteration... every step....

“An artist can come from anywhere...” even from humble beginnings in the right area code but the wrong zip code... across the tracks…

It is those folks like Frank who help modernize systems across the chasm of the bell curve of Diffusion of Innovation… Simon Sinek references frequently...

We are officially across the chasm when...

the end user stops blaming developers… and the developers stop blaming the end user...

Seeing the world differently… or coming from a different background is a strength... working with students with neurodiversity in art class...

I learned a lot...

It is a spectrum...

It is not a disability if you brain works differently...

It is a superpower…

one that AI can understand all the nuance of… without bias...

because human society may not be ready... or kind... to a genius… although in due time it can…

The seminal moment of my career was when I saw a substitute teacher outside my art classroom forcing a student to look her in the eye... and the student... he was covering his face with his white collared shirt... blocking her and the entire world out…

“Polite” society south of the Mason Dixon line still has that residue from the plantation porch drinking mint juleps and getting “the vapors”... when someone looks at them wrong... or says the wrong word... although being perfectly fine with the N word flying…

It’s a sign of respect to look someone in the eye when you are talking to them in a conversation... it is also a sign of disrespect if you force someone to look you in the eye…

Phones down… “Eyes up…”

Both are true…

Her name was Dr. Carson...

She my professor who left a high paying executive administrative position in a large school district in the south... to teach... mentor... and recruit... the next generation of teachers... as her mission from God...

She saw me...

in class...

She encouraged me... because “I said different things than everyone else...”

She told me to spit out my gum before speaking in front of the class… Every ten minutes she had us stand up and stretch before proceeding with more academic work... she taught us the conditions to grow dendrites… and what shrinks them…

fear... of a fall...

One day she drew with masking tape on the carpeted floor...

a chasm...

with a small one-person bridge across...

She teamed our class up... although before we attempted to cross the bridge... she tied the hands and feet and blindfolded one of the teammates on each team...

Our team took forever... but we beat the first team... who made it across in record time... because they ghosted the struggling teammate...

that was before they were disqualified... because they left a child behind...

Every day I listened to her advice... I was successful...

On the days I ignored her coaching... I struggled...

that is what it means to sit at the feet…

Of true wisdom...

true greatness...

again...

https://youtu.be/DydmaedDIhE?si=ZKcdb7yW5RVlCcuJ