Who Am I?Posted on April 4, 2014 by billyraychitwood1


                      Who Am I?

Who am I?

Not a terribly original question, perhaps one that is often asked over the course of one’s life. What got me to thinking about the question are the genres in which I write my books – mystery (some inspired by true events), romance, bio/memoir, political thought. So much of my writing deals with the underbelly of life, the bad elements in our society, the really evil and ugly people who live among us – fictionally or in fact. It must be my admission that at times it bothers me that I focus my writing so much on a salacious news report about someone being sexually assaulted, people being horribly murdered, an awful pedophile hurting or killing our children, or some dark and greedy enterprise. Another aspect relative to the question is my concern that the books I have written are not necessarily going viral.

Don’t mind me. I feel that much of my life has been spent in introspection, analyzing myself as I lie awake in the night, as I drive the open road, as I view television or a sad movie, even in the middle of a conversation. It’s my way of trying to piece together another part that is unknown to me. Maybe in some sort of loose and nebulous nexus I’m creating everyman, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

The way I’m built, the crazy DNA I carry inside, does cause me concern. So much emotion and mobility in my early building stages account for the calculus here. I’ve always been drawn to the action, crime, drama, mystery, and suspense of the big screen or tube. My wife loves comedies and musicals, the ‘Hallmark Movies’, and neatly trimmed family adventures. I started out loving cowboy movies, then graduated to the more fast-paced ‘True Lies’ and ‘Jesse Stone’ types. That’s all okay for different likes and dislikes. There’s a spiritual part of me that nudges me now and then to write something wholesome, like a strong Christian story with an uplifting theme for all ages… Hopefully, one day I shall satisfy that nudge.

If you had not noticed, I’m rambling and trying to figure an apt finish to this post.

Here it is.

I’m doing all this word vacillation when it comes down really to this. There is a lot of me in what I write, in the characters I create, and in the plots. There is fun in the penning of my tales, and I experiment with my writing. There are times when I organize a book – in my fashion – and there are times when I simply allow the characters to take me where it is they want to go… This is likely to make a ‘writing purist’ cringe. For me, the process of writing can take any form a person wishes. The readers ultimately will decide whether or not our writing efforts are worthy.

That brings me to the final point of this post.

Writing is enough for me, the process itself…most of the time. Believing I’m under no delusions of grandeur, I truly feel my words are strung together well and tell compelling stories. I get some 5-Star reviews here and there which make me jubilant. Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn are used daily and perhaps for some, ad nauseam. I admit to a certain ineptness in this digital world, but I’m doing so many things to get people to read my books. Apparently, I’m not doing nor am I capable of doing some of the things I need to be doing. An old man (me) dusted off some manuscripts, rewrote, edited them, wrote several new books along the way, and self-published them. My first ‘Bailey Crane Mystery’ (“Probable Cause”) was picked up by a publisher, eventually went out of print – that book is now “An Arizona Tragedy – A Bailey Crane Mystery” Book One. There are five ‘Bailey Crane’ books in the series – the original book two manuscript (“Stranger Abduction”) was done on a StarWriter word processor and the manuscript was lost during one of my mobility moments…still not found. Thus, there are five ‘Bailey Crane’ books in lieu of six.

The final point is taking longer than expected.

The mistake was made, I believe, in coming out with so many books in such a short period of time. There were no ‘launching parties’ for the books, no book tours, and there was very little internet plugging. Add to that, I’m no longer a young man who can keep the pace of author book signings, events of one kind or another, or other vital networking avenues. So, the end point is this: my books are good, and I would like to see them in the hands of readers. Yes, writing is enough for me most of the rime, but I do get hungry for reader reaction. Like most authors, I hope for some gratification. My books are bought too infrequently, and I am at a loss to find some magic buttons to push… Of course, I could turn the books over to someone specializing in all phases of marketing, but that of course is costly.

I just finished a KDP giveaway of five of my books for five days (likely, should have been one book instead of five). It looks like some seven hundred total all books were given away during that time, with much tweeting, much Facebook activity, much Goodreads and LinkedIn activity, with my weekly blog announcing the giveaway.

Baring one’s soul is perhaps foolhardy and senseless, but there it is.

What you need to do, kind followers of my blog, other than commiserating, is to start a viral situation with my books…having not the foggiest idea of how you will do that. Do not worry if you fall short of doing either, the commiserating or the viral thing, you will still have me doing a weekly blog, valuing you – and still writing my books, flash fiction, poems, songs, and short stories.

Incidentally, if you have any idea of ‘who I am’ please let me know in the ‘comment’ section.

Here are various links to my books and me.

http://www.about.me/brchitwood

http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (My books on IAN – Independent Author Network)

http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com (My main website/blog and my books w/some reviews)

Follow me on http://twitter.com/brchitwood (@brchitwood)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood andhttp://facebook.com/billyrayscorner (‘fan’ and ‘like’ page w/updates)

https://www.linkedin.com/nhome/

http://thefinalcurtain1.wordpress.com (The origination blog site of all my posts)

Please leave a comment if so inclined.

        

‘Waiting’ By The SeashorePosted on July 17, 2013 by billyraychitwood

If one must wait for an event to happen, what better place than a blue sun-filled sky and the beautiful Sea of Cortez?

My wife and I are moving to Tennessee and should have left already. A last minute glitch at the Tennessee end has caused a delay, meaning, of course, that disgusting Murphy fellow is still around. We believe, hope, that the delay will only be a few days…he says with eyes looking up to the ceiling while his head nods! 

The ‘waiting’ got me to thinking about, well, ‘waiting.’ Some ‘waiting’ is almost delectable in the anticipation it brings…like the arrival of kids, grandchildren, friends, or the big check in the mail and the pizza just ordered for delivery.

Some ‘waiting’ has fearful overtones, like… a car accident? a flight overdue? has a mistake been made? The nerves are edgy.

We ‘waited’ for the Zimmerman verdict. It was likely filled with anticipation, one way of the other. A young teenager, Trayvon Martin, had been killed in a housing project by this fellow, George Zimmerman, a hired neighborhood guard who presumably thought the teenager had no good intent in the gated community. After all, the teenager had on a hood and looked suspicious.

Words were exchanged. An altercation erupted into a killing, Zimmerman claimed he feared for his life and shot the kid. The details came out in a jury trial.

The jury heard the prosecution. The jury heard the defense. The jury heard about the entire episode, with witnesses for the prosecution and witnesses for the defense. The jury was made up of six people whom we must assume were good and honest folks. They listened to both sides of the case and returned a verdict of ‘not guilty’ by reason of self-defense. Justice was rendered. End of case.

Well, not quite the end of the case! There were demonstrations by angry people who thought justice was not dispensed properly, those who thought the black teenager was murdered, not killed in self-defense. The ugly word, racism, was used by some, whites being favored over the blacks…reaching back through the pages of our history to display something that seems at times so easy to use for the purpose of a few. ‘Waiting’ for a verdict brought us a reminder of a past that should be no more. Should we not have by now thrown away the race cards, gotten away from the skin color thing? After all, we have a black president, elected by the American people. 

Those who don’t know about the Zimmerman case, those who might want to know more, can do their research. They can decide within their own hearts and minds how they feel about the ‘not guilty’ verdict in this case.

In the end, only George Zimmerman knows with specificity what really happened on that ill-fated day. I’m sure he will think about it throughout his life. It does not much matter what I think. A young life was lost. That I know. A jury of George Zimmerman’s peers voted unanimously for the ‘not guilty’ verdict. While we should certainly grieve the loss of a seventeen year old, feel great empathy and sympathy for his family and friends, we should also accept the fact that justice was fairly administered.

‘Waiting’ for a free and clear title to a property is not in the same realm as ‘waiting’ for a jury’s verdict on the death of a teenager…but it was there in my heart and mind…

Follow me on twitter.com (@brchitwood)

Main website: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

Short Bio sketch: http://www.about.me/brchitwood

My books: http://goo.gl/fuxUA (IAN)

http://facebook.com/billyray.chitwood

         

The World Is Stretching And Yawning - Posted on June 14, 2013 by billyraychitwood1


The picture is a younger me! Okay, it’s a much younger me! During the days when this picture was taken, the world for me was a rare giant oyster with many lovely pearls. Oh, sure, there were some moments of regrets and despair but, generally, life was piano bars, pretty women, and usually too much of the amber fluid. Drugs were around my life but never really in my life. It was a busy time for making fun the order of every day, impressing the girls with my wisdom and wit, and, of course, my ‘etchings.’

For the most part my friends were attorneys, textbook salesmen, and mostly anyone who answered one question correctly. That question: “Are you a turtle?” If the answer was not, “You bet your sweet ass I am!” it would take a little more time but, really, anyone could be my friend. The turtle question? Just something silly my generation thought up to keep everyone amused – as you can see, it didn’t take a whole lot to amuse us! Sort of like some of the weird words and phrases of today… There was, however, a most definite difference ‘then’ as opposed to ‘now.’

‘Then,’ there was not the subterranean build-up of world issues. There was not the economic and job worries of today. And, certainly, there was not Terrorism – oh, there was some mayhem and murder, that kind of terror, but not the kind that gets into your subconscious mind and bubbles up too consistently in the current ‘now.’ I’m not writing about ‘the good old days’ – yet, there were good days mixed with the ‘down’ days when I allowed myself to think about the mistakes I was making or the sadness that was of my own making. In the ‘then’ days there were bad governments and there were good governments, depending, of course, on political leanings. Perhaps what I remember most about the ‘then’ days was the feeling of Freedom, that sense that, even with my periodic goofs, our world was reasonably within some tolerance level of diplomatic solution.

‘Now,’ it is more a feeling, a sense, that the world is ‘stretching’ and ‘yawning’ in some peculiar and scary ways. Some say we are seeing ‘Revelations’ come to pass (for those who might not know, ‘Revelations’ is a book in the New Testament of the Bible). Some say we are on the downward slope of our Democracy, that when Freedom and Liberty are eroded by too much government control and entitlements, we are heading down the proverbial slippery slope. Some say we are just going through a generational phase where the digital world is making our lives more accessible and bringing the world together too fast. There are new ‘words’ in the ‘now’ lexicon. There are new faces appearing in the crowds, their lips speaking in different tongues and their gestures not always friendly.

I guess we have always had our calamitous moments, mass murders, our children kidnapped and killed. It just seems tougher today to know who to believe, who to trust, when and where to visit, what to do and how to act when we get there.

Of course, when I think about it, I’m in ‘Twilight,’ and perhaps my senses are losing (or,  have lost) some of their acuity. Maybe those ‘then’ days are happening for someone else as I write these words. Maybe the ‘now’ is not so bad after all. Yeah, sure, and maybe 9/11 did not happen at all!

The world is stretching and yawning! A lot is happening, perhaps too much for the old brain to process, too many social networks to monitor, too many machines. If not stretching and yawning, is the world getting too tightly bound? It just seems to me we’ve lost some stability, lost some of the old standards that were so important to us once upon a time, lost some of the texture that made our part of the world so great. We write about our world and what is happening in it, but who can truly say where we stand on the timeline of history? Who has the compendium that can accurately foretell our future. Is it our government? Is it the Bible? Is it God?

Please follow me on twitter (@brchitwood)

Please preview my books at http://www.goo.gl/fuxUA (IAN1)

Please see a bio sketch at http://www.about.me/brchitwood

Please visit my main website/blog at: http://billyraychitwood.weebly.com

      

A Friend On A CotPosted on April 29, 2013 by billyraychitwood1
      
There is this compelling need within me to record and share some of the emotions and thoughts during a visit to a small medical clinic and a friend on a cot…

Ruben has diabetes. While hiking on Sonora’s Pinacate volcanic range (where the astronauts trained for the ‘Moon Landing’) he fell on some rocks and hit his head. He was most likely dehydrated. A few days later, while on a city hall errand, he passed out as he got out of his car. A good Samaritan witnessed his fainting spell, called an ambulance, and Ruben was taken to this Mexican clinic. The Pinacate event no doubt led to the fainting spell.

My friend, Ruben, was lying on a small cot in a dingy cell-like room in this medical clinic. He was on his back, covered by a cheap and gaudy blanket, staring straight ahead at a solid wall of concrete, for all the world like a man so forlorn he did not wish my wife and me, anyone, to be there with him. He was able to speak but his words were barely audible and with a total lack of will or spirit. A connected intravenous contraption was the only apparent equipment supplying nourishment and proper medicines to my friend. There would be some tests. With luck he would be out of the clinic in two days.

Ruben’s family was just outside this small closet-like room, sitting in a slightly larger area with sofas and chairs – his wife with a kind smile, his lovely and fidgety children, his mother with the aged and creased toil lines on her face, and his brother. They greeted us upon our entry into the little Mexican clinic and they tried to show us kindness with their modest smiles of thanks for being there. Their consideration of us, their genuine warmth, would ever be locked away in our memories… These were the same friendly and warm faces of most of the people in this small fishing village my wife and I call home.

Now, standing above Ruben, who works for the beach resort where I live and serve on the Board of Directors, my feelings were jangled. Part of me wanted to cry at the scene in front of me. There was Ruben, valiantly assuring me that he was going to be okay…”no problema, Bill, mi amigo.” His voice was weak, but, then, Ruben had never been strong of voice – just softly saying what he had to say, but saying it with more verve and commitment than now. My wife, Julie, stood at the end of the cot trying to show her smiley face and reassure him that we were there if he needed us.

We left ‘la clinica’ but my thoughts would not leave me. They took me down several mind paths that dealt with the quaint and beautiful culture of this small fishing village, how the families all gathered in moments of crises, how they bore up so well under circumstances such as this one, accepting the fate that was dealt to them.     My thoughts took me down the dusty back roads of this fishing village of Rocky Point where scraggly dogs roamed the streets in search of food, where sand from the desert floor was a constant airborne gust and swirl in the wind. They took me to the middle class areas of town where lovely haciendas dotted the landscape. They took me to the poverty that was a part of this tiny microcosm of the world, where the young kids rushed out at a red light stop to wipe down a car’s windshield, where hard working people with bronze skin wearily wandered up and down the beautiful beaches to peddle their wares. They took me to the pottery shops, the t-shirt shops, the fish markets where some of the best shrimp in the world were cheaply sold.

The thoughts took me to the Sandy Beach area where I lived among the wealthy and not so wealthy folks, those who sunbathed on the sand, swam in the myriad pools, relaxed in the spas, exercised in the resort gyms, ate at the finer restaurants along the beach and near the Old Port, and enjoyed million dollar views from their condo decks.

The thoughts were there, mingling and mixing, showing me the sides of societies the world over, the haves and those who wish to have. Somehow, here in this nostalgic world of Rocky Point, Mexico, the differences were stark, enough to batter the brain with too much unwanted and unwarranted guilt. Here was a town trying to come into the twenty-first century, arriving a bit slowly, but here, eventually, with all the resources and fast spreading technology, to become another Cabo San Lucas, Puerto Vallarta, Mazatlan, Cancun…

The thoughts were there about the US media’s enthrallment with denouncing this country, this lovely little speck of scrub brush desert, dusty roads, middle class and poverty, and a beautiful Sea of Cortez. Never have I lived more safely anywhere in this world than Rocky Point and I marvel at the absurd arrogance of the press to beat a dead horse. Sure, there is occasional crime in Mexico and in Rocky Point but not nearly as much per capita as can be seen in almost every city and town of equal size in the United States. Try living in some areas of Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles, New York, Phoenix, Houston. Yes, I get it, these big metro areas are melting pots. My mind just tells me it’s grossly unfair to keep posting negatives about a town and a country called Mexico without certain qualifiers. Can we not use the common sense God gave us no matter where we travel. There are few places in the world today where one can wander in an area that is suspected of having a crime element. We go where we feel it’s most safe to go. That’s our world today — a bit different from not so many years ago.

My clinic visit to Ruben caused all of this rambling and I’m glad it did. Rocky Point (Puerto Penasco), scrub brush desert and The Sea of Cortez, is a spot that can make you want to stay – in my case, for several years. The town has an AutoZone, a new Convention Center, a new Sam’s Club, a Walmart affiliate, a Burger King, a Dominoe’s Pizza, a lovely Malecon, a theater mall, jet skis for riding the waves, sailboats, yachts, para sailing, on and on. In fact, the government has already funded a future home cruise port for Rocky Point – to be started in June, 2013. Aero Mexico is scheduled to start two flights a week into Rocky Point from Las Vegas, Nevada. For anyone loving the seaside experience and life style, this is a good place to come.

My thoughts take me to an end point… This is a different country. The language is different. The culture has a timeless and nostalgic quality. ‘Manana’ is a theme for living. Things can wait until tomorrow, next week, or next month. If a rumor is not started by 11:00 AM in the morning, it’s time to make one up. This little fishing village where I live is making strides to become one of the best areas to visit, an area where one will perhaps stay a long spell along the long stretch of coastline we call The Sea of Cortez. There are a lot of good people working to make that happen, and it will happen!

In the meantime, Ruben must get better…not because we need him at the Bella Sirena Resort, but because I love the man, his stubborn yet gentle manner — and I love his family.

Please follow me on Twitter (@brchitwood) and preview my books at http://goo.gl/fuxUA(scroll/preview).

                                                        “The Sunshine Room”

     On consistently cloudy days outside, on dreary wintry days, on ‘bad news’ days, it would be nice to have a ‘sunshine room.’ In our rapidly expanding digital and technological world, there is likely already a relatively simple mechanism of sorts that will illuminate a room, maybe an entire house, as though the sun was present … maybe a ceiling fixture, a wall addition, a window covering, et al. If not clear by now, I’m a sun worshiper. That’s one of the reasons I live at this latitude on the Sea of Cortez. There is sunshine every single day. Some clouds may drift by on their way to a final destination but sooner of later the sunshine is there in a beautiful blue sky.

     Sunshine is important to me because of my make-up. The older I get, the more I see in our growing world, there is this tendency to become gilded in my thinking. Those folks who lean toward the liberal side might not like me too much for my views. That’s okay because there are times when I don’t like them too much. However, I do respect my liberal friends and sometimes think I’m missing something in their political and social comments. In fact, in my younger years I was more inclined to hold liberal views. Somehow, I had a change of mind along the way. Perhaps my perceptions are too simple, just too bound in historical clashes and events to think in any other way. I think about the fall of the Roman Empire, its laxity on the social issues. I think about how one man could master a large segment of the human race and murder over six million people. I think about Stalin, Russia, the purges, and the slaughters of millions. I think, in some ways, I’m seeing history repeat itself, maybe not so much for me, an old dog not able or willing to learn new tricks, but for my kids, my grandkids, and my great-grandkids.

     Look, I’m no scholar who can spout off the words of the US Constitution, its Amendments, or the Declaration of Independence, but those important papers brought us to a grand place in the history of humankind. Those documents said that people can have liberty, are free to go out into the world and be all that they can be, based on their honest efforts and their brain power. I don’t have to be a scholar to know that most of the people in the world would like that scenario. Yes, we’re all created equal at birth but it doesn’t stay that way. Some of us don’t learn as fast as others. Some of us are ambitious. Some are lazy and try to figure easy ways to live off others’ toil. Some are handicapped, need and should get help from a caring nation … ‘Equality’ means different things to different people. How can a diverse nation (or, world) live up to the word, ’equality,’ when the word was meant to convey our right at birth. Where is the fairness for someone who has an idea, grows that idea into a major business where he hires people, gives them work for their daily bread, only to be regulated by a government with a long list of do and don’t. Should it not be simple enough for a vigorous person with a business idea to pursue that idea without fear of what his government is going to take from him? Should not a tax code be simple enough for everyone to understand without having thousands of pages of regulations? Should not a person expect to die and leave his legacy to family without having the government take a large chunk of his estate? Should not ‘entitlements’ be the exception and not the rule? Was the government meant to be so intrusive in our lives? Did not those beautiful documents from our forefathers postulate what the essential roles of our government branches should be? It seems to this wary and weary old dog that, through the years, we have cleverly rearranged with our fancy legalized posturing the true meaning of those documents.

     So, many can justifiably counter my simple remarks here, but they are honest thoughts. There are at work in this nation and this world forces that are focused on undermining our religious and social freedoms. These forces are evil, treacherous, and they are here in large numbers. These ramblings of an old man will have no effect on this evil. These words are but a Sunday morning sermon on our times.

     In any event, I’ve clearly exposed myself. That’s okay! Most of you who have read some of my posts clearly know that I’m an anachronism, a conservative, a traditionalist, whatever the convenient word. Well, that’s all I can be! My DNA lines up that way. I’m a helpless, hopeless, wanderer in this land of ‘machines’ and madness. I’m not much of a debater, so those who lean the other way can punch all the holes you wish into my little dissertation here.

     Hopefully, I can sell people on the idea that I do try to adapt, to learn new tricks and new ways to please the newer order. There is clearly a newer order! Having lived this long, I see our new ‘machines of progress’ and I see new problems to go along with the old problems. In my vision it is natural for me to see old mistakes from my generation being repeated — you know, that ‘history repeating itself’ thing. It is natural for old fools like me to see new free-thinking people wanting a world community at any expense, at the expense perhaps of the freedom and liberty some forty old timers like George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, James Madison, Alexander Hamilton, William Blount, and others all in harmony felt would connect a country’s people. That ‘Constitution’ these great people of history signed was to be the blueprint for not just our country but for any country who held dear the ideals that went into that document. Amendments were added, and the road was perilous then as it is now … But, wow! what a great blueprint for a country to have!

     The world changes. Knowledge explodes into rich new innovations and inventions. So, why can’t we all be on the same page in history? We know the answer, of course. The old fools collide with the new fools! It becomes more and more difficult to find consensus on this or on that. Different times? Different political persuasions? Different World views? Do any of us know who is who and what is what anymore? So much to absorb and so many machines!
 
     I no doubt spend too much time in the ruminating room — those ‘good old days’ cannot be retrieved or altered. At least, some of us think they were good old days. So, this old fool just might as well watch the world do its thing and make an idle comment here and there…

     While I’m at it, here are a few more of those idle comments:

     1) The music of today ‘sucks’ (to use the vernacular)! It's too damned loud and the lyrics are lost in the mighty cacophonous
screeching of brass, drums, strings, et al. 
 
      2) We’re repeating some of the same mistakes today that brought much trouble in our history; we don't seem to learn!

     3) Technology has created too many horrific 'gang and war games' to fill our kids' minds; there is too much laxity of control on the part of parents; today's games are not necessarily 'Cowboys and Indians,' tag, and hide and seek.
 
     4) We are an ‘over-reaction’ nation: we have some beautiful children killed and we suddenly want to amend and/or make new laws; maybe the gun laws do need some modifying --- we must care and act!
 
     5) Each side of the political spectrum uses tragedy for their agendas when all must know , should know, we can never stop all the evil that lurks in our world.
 
      6) We should be sane and sensible, change things that can make a difference, and understand that there are some things that cannot be changed; 'We' and 'sane' and 'sensible' are the operative words.

     7) Guns do not kill people — people kill people and those who are evil will find ways to carry out their evil intents …

     There are many other idle comments I could make, and they are negative. People want positive, reassuring, words of promise. They want answers and problem solving. Our scientific and technological knowledge is exploding, doubling, tripling, in relatively short intervals. There is so much to absorb, of which to be aware, that we ordinary citizens stumble over it all. We are bewildered, confused, but, then, Google will help us find an answer. We go on with our lives because that is what we are to do.

     Sound political? Not intended. (Well, maybe a little!) Just looking at serious minutia roaming around in my head … back in my day, we had a sniper killing off students at the University of Texas in Austin; we had the Kent State riots; we had Charlie Manson and his ‘helter-skelter’ crew; we had a socially prominent and politically active Ted Bundy killing pretty young women all around the country; there was the Los Angeles ‘Hillside Strangler’ and there was the Oregon ‘Green River’ serial killer … History from the dawn of time is dotted with evil acts — there in William Shakespeare’s time you will find evil. On and on I could go with the evil incidents that enter our lives … We react to these horrible events, particularly those that kill our children, because we can’t understand how such evil can exist. It staggers us, takes nips at our hearts and souls, and leaves us in a stupefied state of mind until — until we can go to our ‘sunshine room’ and start feeling better. The best invention in the world would be a machine that can determine without question the evil among us … then we could dump all the evil people on an isolated island far from civilized land and let them find ways to annihilate each other.

     But, then, what the hell do I know? I’ll let the grandkids and great-grandkids handle the problems. I’m way too old and too tired to be trying to figure it all out … Hey, how about a real humdinger of a pep pill, a smart pill? Oh, well, a highball in an oversized glass might do it!

     I’m going to the ‘Sunshine Room.’ Guess I’ve given enough ‘pleasure’ and ‘displeasure’ for one day.  

Can There Be Neutrality?
Posted on September 13, 2012
  by  billyraychitwood1

On the anniversary of one of our country’s worst civlian nightmares, September 11, 2012, an American Ambassador and three other Americans were killed in Libya. On the same day in Egypt the American Embassy was stormed by a radical Muslim faction that set fires, ripped up our flags, and caused not only much damage to the buildings but much fear to our small community of citizens there. Two countries, one still trying to form a semblance of government in a post-Moammar Khadafi environment and one whose passive government chose not to intervene in the American Embassy destruction.

Was it a coincidence that these two events occurred on the anniversary of 9/11? Were the events somehow a sign post signifying a beginning or a beginning of an end? And, what do these two events have to do with writing?

The last question will be answered first. I am writing! I am writing because these two events got me thinking about the posture of the world, of all our great nations. The events got me thinking about my kids, their kids, and their kids’ kids. The thinking is not the good and wholesome kind of thinking, and I need to write about it. It is thinking that will undoubtedly be unsettling for some and will likely fit right into some others wheelhouses. I’m writing about neutrality, but more precisely, my inability to stay neutral on certain issues that are facing America.

Our two political parties had their conventions during the last two weeks, and they were polar opposites as far as platform and vision. They most certainly got me thinking, and, with the two 9/11/2012 events in Libya and Egypt, all these events combined to give me a first class migraine.

Were the Libya and Egypt events coincidental? I’ll answer with this question: is there a tooth fairy? Were the Libya and Egypt events a sign post to a beginning or to a beginning of an end? My answer to this question has to embrace the political conventions, but here is my attempt at an answer with abundant questions thrown in.

At one political convention, speaker after speaker had a portrayal of our country in great economic decline, in great need of jobs, new leadership, new commitment to a strong ‘carry a big stick’ foreign policy, less govenment control of our God-given freedoms, the power of the individual to succeed as far as her/his potential permits without de-incentivizing federal regulations and runaway tax codes. The speakers at this convention spoke to the  convservatives among us. Were these speakers speaking truth or fiction? Would it be better to ask the unemployed and all those who were promised ‘Hope’ four years ago,
promised by a man who said he would be a one-term president if he did not succeed in bringing the unemployment rate down below eight percent?

At the other political convention, speaker after speaker regaled the beginning of Hope’ that started almost four years ago. The speakers talked of needing more time to implement that ‘Hope,’ that new society where everyone got a fair shake. The speakers railed about inheriting the worst economy in a generation. They cheerfully blamed their political foes for being uncooperative and not offering any solutions to the issues facing the nation. The speakers said nothing about having the entire government in their hands for two years of the new presidency. The splendid speakers mentioned achievements in getting our
troops out of Iraq, bringing more troops home from Afghanistan and they talked of killing Usama Bin Laden. They talked again of ‘Hope.’ The speakers spoke to the more liberal among us. Were these speakers speaking truth or fiction? Would
it be better to ask the unemployed and all those who were promised ‘Hope’ four years ago?

So, yes, the events in Libya and Egypt do signal a beginning and a beginning of an end. Here’s where I leave ‘neutrality’ and give my simple soliloquy, powered only by my heart and by my limited intelligence quotient, prefaced only by saying that I’m no politico, no shill, just someone who cares about the direction his country is going, who wants to share what he feels. It is
impossible to maintain a neutral position when the stakes are so high at this moment in our history. These are my thoughts. Try not to hate me for them — loving me for these thoughts is so much better!

My wife, Julie Anne, made it so crystal clear to me. She quoted an old saying: “Those who don’t learn from history are condemned to repeat it.” She also reminded me that we have Greece, Rome, Russia as history markers, great countries who failed in their socialistic networks. She reminded me that we need to help our poor, our elderly, our sick but be able to discern those who would take advantage of our largesse. We discussed the issues to the best of our abilities. But, then, it is easy to discuss when your belief systems are the same. It has always amazed me how good people can differ on issues with fairly
wide magins.

For what it’s worth, here are my conclusions. We have today a near government-dependent majority in our society, if not already a majority, that is, people on the public dole to one extent or another, people who are indeed needy mixed in with many (who can say how many?) who are simply there for the free hand-out. It bothers me when I hear people say I don’t care about the poor and sick among us or my statement that we need to weed out the freeloaders of society. I remember my dear mother during post-depression days in Appalachia working two jobs to keep her son and daughter with her. I remember her dying in a senior care facility bed when I was not there, and the thought still brings me pain. Caring is of the heart, and my heart cares, but my mind cannot accept the individual’s rights being sucked away by a government whose wish is to take what you and I make and redistribute it to a mass of people who may or may not need my help, who may or may not be lazing around just waiting for the next government check. We are becoming too much of an entitlement country. We need to know where our tax dollars are going, and it’s fine if the dollars are going to those who truly need. We need to stop with the class warfare rhetoric, the trash politics and lies, and we need to stop playing race cards…

Whoa, I’m getting too revved up! I’m also becoming conscious of my narrative's length, so I’ll end it here.

It was simply important for me to express what I’ve been thinking since those conventions and since the terrible events of Libya and Egypt.

Can there be neutrality? Not from where I sit. But, maybe we can calmly talk and hear each other out, maybe do some old fashioned compromising. It is actually time to change the face of politics, time to put some faith and trust back in the hearts and minds of the people, time to stop the special perks our politicians enjoy, time to build, create, and enjoy what our labors can produce, time…time for me to stop writing.

Is not freedom and liberty great that I can give you my thoughts and yours to me?