There was a time when strangers were welcome here...

There's a wonderful song from the 1970's by Neil Sedaka that he wrote for his friend, the late John Lennon (yes, that John Lennon) called The Immigrant.  Over the past few weeks I have been thinking about this song from time to time, so I wanted to share it.

Why have I been thinking about it?  

Well, Ms. Rivers and I have what we call the "5-minute rule" at home.  This basically states that we have about 5 minutes each day to talk about the crazy and sad stuff coming out of Washington D.C..  This is intentional, for several different reasons, including the fact that we don't want to buy into the whole intentional blitzkrieg of nonsensical madness from the current administration.  This doesn't mean that we don't notice this stuff...it simply means that we try and notice what really is important.

One of the really important things to notice has been the on-going demonization of Hispanic immigrants coming into our country.  Think "rapists, murderers" and the like.  Never mind that the best data out there shows that immigrants (legal or otherwise) actually commit crimes at a lower rate than the population as a whole*.  Anyway, why the focus on Hispanic immigrants in the first place?  I have a theory:  Dictators...real and pretend...always need a foil, a group of folks to demonize, so as to inflate their sense of self-superiority and distract their followers from reality. The current group being demonized fits the bill for two important reasons:

1. If they are not citizens, they don't vote.
2. They can look and sound different.

So, when the feds raid a meat-packing plant or church or school, how can they tell who to round up? Take a guess.  I had this same conversation with two co-workers (one from Mexico, the other's family is from Puerto Rico), and when I posed this same question, both simply pointed to their faces.  Sometimes a gesture is also worth a thousand words.

Now should we just ignore crime by illegal immigrants?  Of course not.  We have a criminal justice system for this sort of thing.  My point though is this:  No one should be suspected of being a criminal illegal immigrant based on how they look or speak.  

I think I've used up my 5 minutes.

Anyway, I don't fear immigrants, legal or otherwise.  Instead, I fear greedy people in power who lack the ability to understand the very concept of empathy.  If you are reading this, well, you should too.

One final, and rather ironic, note:                                                                                                              We are all immigrants or came from immigrants.  And not all of us had ancestors that came here legally either.  This is an inconvenient truth for some, but that doesn't make it any less factually correct.

(*) This is the part that will make some angry, as they don't want their emotional reaction to immigration to be blunted by facts, but so be it.  

Northwestern University -
https://news.northwestern.edu/stories/2024/03/immigrants-are-significantly-less-likely-to-commit-crimes-than-the-us-born/

Annual Review of Criminology (Academic Site) -

https://www.annualreviews.org/content/journals/10.1146/annurev-criminol-032317-092026

Stanford University -

https://ranabr.people.stanford.edu/sites/g/files/sbiybj26066/files/media/file/immigration_incarceration_jan2024.pdf

CATO Institute -

https://www.cato.org/blog/illegal-immigrants-have-low-homicide-conviction-rate-setting-record-straight-illegal-immigrant

In the Clearing Stands a Boxer...

 ...and a fighter by his trade

and he carries the reminders

of every glove that laid him down

or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame

"I am leaving, I am leaving" but he fighter still remains

(Paul Simon, The Boxer)

My brother Chris passed away 8 years ago this past January 5th, and to be honest, I was so wrapped up in work stuff that I really didn't take time to reflect on that difficult day in my life.  That one is on me, and stands as a reminder to keep the priorities of life in their rightful places.  I've written about Chris in prior postings over the years, so there will no doubt be some repetition coming, but so be it.

Whenever I hear the Simon and Garfunkel song "The Boxer" I think of Chris.  See above.  He actually was an amateur boxer, and I quoted the song in my eulogy of him back in 2017. 

Towards the end of his life, Chris was an enormous pain in my rear-end, as I was forever trying to solve one problem or another for him.  He was not well, mentally or physically, being a far cry from the boxer...and runner...he was in earlier years.  It was as if life kept putting more and more weight on him until finally, he simply gave out.  The irony isn't lost on me that this person who was genuinely strong for a good part of his life had a life ending in such personal and physical weakness.  

Some of the weight on him I honestly believe was made far worse when our mother passed away, although not in the way most may think.  In some respects, Chris always had something to prove to our mother, even though he never would have acknowledged that fact himself.  He did, by the way, more than prove whatever it* was, as for a good part of his life he worked hard, took care of himself, and adored his daughter Miranda.  He was successful by most definitions, starting with his honorable discharge from the United States Navy, through working as a postal carrier, graduation from college and eventual relocation back to Scranton.  In the end though, there's no purpose for the hunt if the hunter...or the prey...are no more.

Granted that there is more to this story than simply one of a reckoning between a child and parent that was never going to happen.  My brother had other quests in life that were never likely to result in anything fruitful.  On some level he knew this, and I think that some of his demons were simply a manifestation of this knowledge and his being powerless to really make a change.  That didn't stop a few folks close to him from really trying.

All the above noted, there was so much I admired about my brother.  He was naturally outgoing in a way that a thousand me in a thousand parallel universes could never, ever be.  He was a lover of cats who could also be very charming and extremely funny.  I will also note that he was one of the few folks I've ever met who could successfully thread the needle of being (a supposed) conservative Republican while also understanding the realities of something like racism.  What others in the family considered to be hypocrisy, I have come to appreciate as skill.  He was very well read, consuming biographies and poetry like some these days go through oh so many tweets.  

There was so much more that he could have done, and I often think about him, grieving for what he should have been.  I know that is a sort of fool's errand and likely selfish on my part, as who knows what could have been for any of us.  I also know though that in the quiet moments when the difficulties of present life aren't overwriting my brain, there is a kind of pain of not having him...in some better form...as being a part of my life.  In the end, there are so few in life that really understand us, so the loss of just one is a true tragedy.

Until we meet again brother.

(*) A relevant question is this:  What was "it" anyway?  I think we are all hard-wired to want our parents' approval on some level, to somehow have them, namely the people who in theory know us best, be proud of us.  In our case, that wasn't possible, at least not in a way that our mother could actually express.  This becomes a negative spiral that can consume you until you figure out how to simply stop the cycle.

By the Numbers

I received a compliment at work a few weeks ago from a data scientist that the company had hired to help develop/refine some of our analytics, mostly because I understand concepts such as Standard Deviation.  I forget what was specifically said, but it was along the lines of "he really understands analytics", or something similar to senior leadership.  I took it as a compliment.  Mostly though, I am glad it was said privately to me.  I hate being singled out in group settings.  

Anyway, I have been thinking a lot about numbers recently.  Here's some examples (courtesy of some god-forsaken Google A.I. thing):

• Coffee Consumption - I am in the 23% of the U.S. population that does not drink coffee.
• Alcohol Consumption - I am in the 38% of the U.S. population that does not consume alcohol.
• Tobacco Products - I am in the 80% of the U.S. population that does not use tobacco.  I suspect the number is far lower for those of us who have never even tried a tobacco product (which is me).

One could also argue that I am in the 20% of the U.S. population that is no fun.  This is okay though.  

The real number I have been thinking more about though is how long before I retire?  Before anything else, I should note that I am privileged in that finances are not a major driver of this decision.  Ms. Rivers and I have worked with a financial advisor, and we are in better shape than most when it comes to being ready to self-select out of the full-time workforce.  Much of that is thanks to both of us "technically" being (non-consensual) early retirees of Prudential Financial, one of the few companies around that still provides (or provided, depending on one's perspective) good retirement benefits.  Included as well is the fact that we have a basic plan for healthcare coverage as we get older.  

For the record, I will be 61 years old in April.

What drives a decision to keep working for 3+ more years?  I would certainly get a larger Social Security benefit.  I would also be closer to Medicare eligibility.  Both prior statements assume that some god-forsaken group of politicians doesn't screw it up.  Anyway, those are nice, but not compelling arguments.  What I think is the bigger issue for me is one of mental stimulation.  As has been noted in these postings since 2008, I sometimes have the attention span of a brain-damaged gnat.  Will I have enough to do?  I am sure that early on I would, but what after, for example, most of the house projects are completed?  I could continue to work on a part-time basis; see below.  I will also add that I believe I am at a place professionally whereby I probably will have the opportunity to keep working full time for a few years to come.  Business is good, the company is growing, and they seem to tolerate me (see paragraph #1).

What drives a decision to only work for less than 3 more years?  This one is far simpler to understand:  As currently constructed, my professional life is bad for both my physical and mental health*.  Now I know that I can control parts of those things.  The reality is that I am hard-wired to not say no to things and to people.  Quite frankly though, I have far more work than I have time.  Physically, I have gained more weight over the past 4+ years than I am willing to confess to, almost entirely because I literally don't have the time at work to get up and even take a 15-minute walk. Wolfing down a microwaved lunch most days while reading emails isn't helping either. Mentally, I would say that I have been working at trying to maintain a better balance in my head relative to the importance of work in my life, but that's an on-going struggle, and I lose, often.  Coming home mentally spent is also not a great thing.

Noted above is the fact that I can and probably will work part-time in retirement, regardless of when that actually occurs.  I have some thoughts about that, but nothing definitive.  Mostly, this would have to be something I enjoy, and which won't prevent me from regaining a better balance for my physical and mental health.  

None of these musings are new for me; in fact, I have been thinking about this for a few years now.  The closer I get to age 62. the more important it seems to become.  On the quasi-philosophical side of things, there is the very important and real concept of death...as in I will die at some point.  It's the space between here and there though that matters the most.  How much of that time should be dedicated to a non-corporeal entity that would likely replace me a month after my passing?  I think/hope that the people in my life I care about the most would miss me for far longer than that.

Lastly, I will note that 2025 will be an important year for me in the forward-looking department.  Maybe it all comes down to this:  If I have a good 2025, I will work longer.  We shall see.  Regardless, I'd love to hear the perspectives of others on this topic. 

So, there you have it, a posting about numbers.  Well, it's actually more about a larger question of how much we truly owe to an employer (any employer) than it is anything else.  Things CAN change though.  Scratch that...things WILL change.  This is not a bad thing.

******

(*) I recognize that there are people who are struggling to find a job these days, stressful or otherwise, and my privilege extends to employment.  I am grateful to be employed, and I would hate the thought of having to look for a job at my age.  Age discrimination in employment is a significant issue in the United States today.  If anyone is reading this and would like my help in finding a job, even if it's as simple as reviewing a resume, please just let me know.

2025, Do It Again

Standing in the middle of nowhere

Wondering how to begin

Lost between tomorrow and yesterday

Between now and then

And now we're back where we started

Here we go 'round again

Day after day, I get up and I say

I better do it again

(The Kinks, Do It Again)

This is probably one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's at times like this (a new year) that it seems to ping the most around inside of my head.  Great songs do that, by the way:  They stick inside your head and become evocative of all sorts of things.

Music aside, it is a new year, and there is much to be done.  The election...and my last posting...seem like a while ago, something born as much on the back of necessity than sloth.  The necessity part comes in the form of my 250-ish page book via Storyworth that should be arriving in a week or so.  As I noted in a prior posting or two, during 2024 I was answering a question a week posed mostly by my youngest daughter, with some also coming from Ms. Rivers.  I also added about 2500 or so words at the end as a kind of coda to the stories.  While I wrote the whole thing, I am still looking forward to re-reading parts in the weeks to come.

As a side note, what was the experience like?  Did I learn anything?  To answer the first question, yes, but I also enjoy writing.  I wouldn't say the experience is for everyone, and it does require some measure of discipline.  If given as a gift, well, let's just say one should be selective in the recipient.  Regarding the second question, I'll defer to Ms. Rivers, who received an email copy (along with my youngest daughter) of each entry as it was saved.  When asked about her overall impressions, she was surprised at just how not-so-great my childhood was.  In answering the weekly questions, I tried to be very honest, so I suspect that's as valid a review as one can get.  Time, and other readers, will tell. 

What is a fact is that writing answers to personal questions on a weekly deadline did suck up a good part of my discretionary writing time.  I'm hoping to re-direct that effort here for 2025.  Anyway, a few other things are worth mentioning in the world around me (and, for some, you as well).

The Presidential Election came and went.  In theory folks voted for cheaper groceries; in fact, what they will get is likely higher prices, courtesy of tariffs on imported goods and deported farm workers.  A good many Americans simply just love a good sales job, which is what happened in November.  My personal hope is that the incoming administration's lack of competence will reduce their overall impact.  On my end, I've pretty much made the decision that I'm really not going to follow national politics over the next few years.  The swirl of chaos and controversy simply for its own sake just isn't something I have time for anymore.

On the work front, on one hand I count my blessings to be employed and working with some folks who care about what they are doing.  So many former colleagues from Prudential have been (involuntarily) retired or laid off over the past year that it makes you wonder what's left of the company.  Very few organizations have shrunk themselves into success, which is an interesting kind of academic view to take.  What's not so academic?  The very personal lives that have been impacted negatively by the company's actions.  It's a very stark reminder that most organizations basically demand loyalty from their employees without having to offer it in return.  This makes the job-hopping of younger generations all the more reasonable.  Yes, sometimes the younger folks are smarter than the older folks. 

As a caveat to the above, the key word to note in that first sentence (of the prior paragraph) is "some", as in not all.  This is true in many places, I know, but for me it has forced a recognition that I need to continue to work on that most very basic of concepts...as in "it's just a job"...which is still, at nearing 61 years of age, difficult for me to personally master.  Having grown up in the corporate world of "give it all you've got", the transition to "in reality they don't always deserve the all you've got" part is challenging.  However, I am nothing if not a continuous work in progress on many fronts.   

I do think about actually being a retired person one of these years.  I am not sure when that could be, other than the earliest would be late Spring of 2026.  A lot depends on how this year at work goes.  

On the home front, Ms. Rivers and I are enjoying being at times empty nesters, with my youngest stepson away at college in Syracuse.  It's nice seeing him over breaks (such as now), but the "empty nest" parts aren't so terrible either.  I know Ms. Rivers enjoys our routine of very simple meals, for example.  The good, hard work of parenting marches on:  You love your children, but you are training them to be independent human adults that you will not see as much when they are fully adulting.  In my estimation, the good (of helping to raise independent human adults) outweighs the costs, and is ultimately part of a living legacy that parents leave the world.

Lastly, over the 16 or so years of this blog I've noted a fondness for New Years resolutions.  While I have been successful at some things, I am mostly terrible when it comes to results.  So this year I am not making any specific pronouncements. There are some things I want to get better at, such as maintaining a healthy mental health balance relative to work.  I also need to do better at staying in touch with folks.  Ms. Rivers attaches some importance to that second point, as she's worried that, in the event something should happen to her, I would become a kind of recluse.  That's a valid point.

The above noted, here's to 2025 and all that it brings.