Up In The Air

A funny thing happens when I am above the clouds. It's as if the new perspective enables me to think about things that wouldn't enter my mind if I was on the ground, engrossed in the daily activities of life. There's something about being above it all that allows for reflection, for deeper thought and meaning, than the hustle and bustle of daily life on the ground affords. I seem to do my deepest thinking when electronic devices aren't allowed, and I'm not distracted by my laptop, my iPod, or even the magazine in the seat pocket. So what do I think about you ask?

I think about how peaceful and perfect the world looks, all the blemishes fade away from our world when looking at it from afar. Everything seems orderly, and in place. You see the large cities lit up, the towns lit up, and spaces of nothingness in between. Just as it should be. Car lights moving steadily to reach their destination. No sound whatsoever. Now that's a trait I'm sure Brad appreciates in particular. All the complexity, the detail, the chaos ... gone. The world seems right with itself.

But I also think about how small each of us are as individuals in our world. Make a million bucks, write a book, plant a field for 40 years, does any of that really matter? Being in the air trivializes almost all of these things. Who has really made a mark on the world, Thomas Edison, that's who! Because when you are flying at night, his invention is the only one that appears to exist. Oh, and the Wright Brothers. But the latter is one with whom you question whether being that high up in the air, living on faith in others to bring you back to those you love, you question how much thanks that deserves. The only things lasting are our memories, and that's when the impact you have had on others (and others on you) seem to be the most important.

Particularly if you never come down again, if you never speak another word to anyone. My fear and anxiety over flying also seem to have increased over the years. Fear and anxiety over something terrible happening, and the fact that your life is in the hands of someone you have never met, and never will meet also cross my mind. Why would you do such a thing? And for what, a meeting? Really? Doesn't seem to make any sense at that point in time. But it will when reality returns, when the wheels once again touch down and you go right back into ground mode.

Flying is an incredible diversion of thought and perspective for me. Strange how that's what it takes for me to think more deeply about what's important, what really matters, and how blessed I am.

Exercise

I'm pretty excited about the collective energy we each are committing to getting in shape for RAGBRAI. It has been great to have the extra motivation of my two brothers working hard on their fitness as well. Is this the best shape we have collectively been in ever?

Looking forward to riding this weekend in Iowa City and Oelwein!

Oelwein

I agree for the most part with you guys on the differences between the Oelwein I knew and the one described in this book. You can chalk that up to a lot of things you both mentioned including blissful lack of awareness, selective memory, and good parenting. But I think it can also get chalked up to the timing of events. I believe (Marc can you verify on snopes please) a lot of the “dark days” discussed in the book transpired after all of us were graduated. And as you mentioned Marc and it is true of all of us, we left and didn’t go back. We haven’t spent anything more than a weekend in Oelwein in 15ish, 20ish, and 25ish years respectively. It’s akin to Dad being amazed by how much San Diego changed in 40 years. The Oelwein we knew has changed in the significant period of time since we were last there. My curiosity is if Mom and Dad were aware of these changes/events. And if they were, did they continue to shield their sons from that side of Oelwein or was there some other reason it was never discussed?

2 final notes…yes, I did just compare our recollection of Oelwein to Dad’s of San Diego, YIKES. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree does it boys.

Second, police officers burning pot? What the heck are you talking about Marc?!?!?! The first time I smelled pot (and didn’t know what it was, leading to an embarrassing social situation) was my sophomore year in college at a party watching a Mike Tyson pay per view fight.

One more thing…I’m still trying to figure out how to part my hair to make Sheila think I’m cool.

Marc is rambling again

I’m not quite done with the book (I’m about ¾ through it) but I have to agree with you Ed – I was oblivious to any of that stuff if it was going on when I was still around. Forget meth. I wasn’t even aware of marijuana being there, although later in life I’ve heard that it was around. By the grace of God I was never exposed to any of it.

Brad, sometimes you have to poke me to write on the blog, and here’s why: I start thinking about what to write and my mind starts going all over the place. For fear of not being cohesive enough in my thought pattern, I don’t write at all. Well, screw that. Hang on boys!

First, I remember having a difficult time understanding why Mom and Dad told me I couldn’t go over to a certain friend’s house anymore when I was in about 3rd or 4th grade. But they knew that the influences in that house were not good ones. Mom and Dad get a lot of the credit, and the grace of God, and just dumb luck, but I usually was running with a pretty good group of friends when I was back in Oelwein. I think it kept me out of a lot of junk. I look back now and I’m very thankful for friends like Kevin Wright, Shawn Schoultz, Diane Muchow (RIP), Michelle McCann, and several others. We got into a little mischief, but not much really.

The Oelwein that I knew was cruising downtown, with the block cornered by J&L, the Post Office, State Bank, and Van Denover’s being one end of the turnaround, and Taco John’s being the other. All we did was drive in circles, honk at eachother, play the radio loud, and eat potato ole's. I remember Oelwein as pretty much everything revolving around school activities: band, plays and musicals, speech contests, football and basketball games, etc. And as much as I worked in high school, Super Valu was a big part of Oelwein for me.

I’m fascinated with how people remember things in the first place. Horrible events will always be with us, but short of horrible, the mind is pretty good at weeding out unpleasant or “not good” memories. I think most people remember only the good stuff, even remembering events that were not all that great as somewhat pleasant years after the fact. I happen to remember Oelwein very fondly. They say you can never go back, and that’s probably because that place that you actually go back to can never live up to that rosy place you’ve reconstructed in your mind, having left out all the down sides. Is that the case with Oelwein? I can’t really say… it’s my hometown and I’ll always feel some fond attachment to it.

I wonder how our view of Oelwein compares to some of the people we graduated with that haven’t ever really left, or did for only a short time. I know a few from my class that are still there and pretty much always have been there. How do they remember 1988?

As I think I mentioned when you guys were here, we’ve had several Red Winged Blackbirds around the feeders. I love having them there because their call just takes me back to my childhood in Oelwein. I don’t know why exactly, because they were mostly in the country, not in town. But when I hear that distinctive call, ZOOM… I’m back there. Obviously my memories of our childhood are pleasant or I wouldn’t enjoy those birds quite so much. It’s crazy how smells can bring back such vivid memories as well. Sometimes people think I’m crazy because I come in from outside or from a walk and I say, “Someone is smoking pot.” Do you guys remember when we were kids and the cops used to burn pot at events like Independence Day so that kids would recognize it and know to report it/get away from it?? I swear to God that I STILL know that smell. Very distinctive.

It was total coincidence, but a couple of weeks ago I started scanning my senior yearbook. I scanned a good chunk of it today as a matter of fact. Since I’ve been reading Methland as well, I can’t help but look at the faces and wonder who was involved in drugs or any other matter or craziness back then that I had no clue about. When we had our 20th reunion, I remember hearing one of the groups talk about the crazy alcohol parties they were having in 8th grade!! I was thinking to myself, “Really?” Totally oblivious. Totally. I was too busy trying to figure out how to part my hair and get Jane Ryan to “like” me.

The fact is, Oelwein is NOT what it used to be. As the author points out in the book, midwestern small towns have suffered because of a myriad of causal factors. Oelwein is no exception. Unfortunately, I don’t think the Brothers 3 Are We can affect immigration reform or take on the Pharma conglomerates.

I think if we decide to go ahead with a triathlon, we have to make sure we have the right perspective. I guess what I mean is that Oelwein isn’t “bad” now as opposed to being “good” when we were there. It’s different, because it’s changed a lot. We don’t want to barge in there with the attitude of “We’re going to do something for this crappy little town.” We need the community to buy into it. A triathlon will not bring 500 jobs back to Oelwein. I guess what I want for Oelwein is for the people there to be proud of what they are NOW, with no apologies. They may not ever be the booming railroad town again, but they CAN be proud of their town. I would like an annual Oelwein triathlon to be something that the town can throw its weight behind and be proud that this is “our” triathlon.

The World As We See It

I recently finished the book Methland by Nick Reding (thanks Brad) and have several observations and comments to make.

First, I was in shock and awe over what he described was going on in Oelwein. And whether you believe it all or not, even a portion of it being true is truly shocking to me. I was obviously naive in what I thought was going on in my hometown, and I suspect many other Oelwein residents (including my parents, in-laws, and grandparents) were as well. It led me to think about each of our individual perspectives and viewpoints, and how clouded and different they can be regarding just about anything.

Oelwein is a great example. Is it a quiet small town transitioning to a retirement community, a community seeking to get it's groove back, or a town living in large pools of unemployment, poverty and drugs? Hmmm? Guess it could be all of these ... depending of course on your perspective. That's my point in writing this entry into our blog.

I have a perspective, and a viewpoint that develops initially from what I see, hear and observe via my life. That viewpoint is then adapted and altered by others with whom I connect and communicate. To the extent their viewpoint isn't that much different, our collective perspective is quite narrow, even myopic. It pays to have a broader perspective and that can only be gained by gathering viewpoints and opinions from others who have very different viewpoints than ourselves.

As brothers we have grown apart in many ways. Where we live, the differences in our families, the professions we've taken. But our perspectives on many things are unchanged. What we experienced growing up was very similar, and from that our perspectives about things of the past really aren't that different. Oelwein is a perfect example. I believe I can say that all of us saw Oelwein differently than what was described to us in the book, Methland.

But seeing it from a different perspective, even if that perspective isn't entirely accurate, allows us to learn from what the author did see, and broaden our perspectives and views of the place we all are proud to call our hometown. Ah, the memories come flying back, "back where I come from"!

Travel observations

We've touched on the pleasures and education of travel in previous posts, and I got to enjoy a bit of that last weekend with a trip to Washington DC to spend the weekend with my fellow Brothers3arewe blog authors. It will a fun-filled weekend including the new blog picture and the one for this post.

One of the things I like about traveling is if I choose to be observant there are so many interesting things happening, especially in airports. 2 notable ones from this trip:

1. I was in the Cedar Rapids airport waiting for my flight and watched a young father feed his newborn a bottle. His wife was sitting next to him crying. Why? Because he was in fatigues, obviously heading off to fulfill his military service. First, I am so thankful that there are men and women in our country who are willing to make such sacrifices so that I can continue to enjoy the freedoms that I have. And second, having two little girls, I can't imagine having to leave them for any extended period of time.

2. A sign of the times: I was walking through the United terminal in Chicago O'Hare airport. There was a family walking, two parents and a son maybe 8 or 9 years old. Right in front of us was the enormous replica of a brachiosaurus skeleton. It is really cool to me, and I've walked by it probably a hundred times. Well this kid had no idea that it was even there. Why?...because he had seen a WiFi sign hanging in front of the replica and was begging his parents to get his iPad out so he could get online. W-O-W!!!