Recognizing what we have — before it's gone

These Guatemalan boys, despite their lack of material
wealth, are happy. I have a lot to learn from them.

I deplore Black Friday. How absurdly ironic is it that we would follow a day supposedly dedicated to thankfulness with a day dedicated to excessive, impulsive consumption? (Yes, it's worth noting that Americans traditionally give said "thanks" by gorging themselves with obscene amounts of food. Guilty on that count, you ask? Better believe I am!)

Black Friday encourages people to spend money they don't have on things they don't need. It facilitates corporate greed and poor treatment of employees. It promotes uncivil, primitive, or even violent behavior — all in the name of getting a "good deal." It reinforces the notion of a society addicted to consumerism — where we're never happy with what we have, and always need to get our hands on the next greatest thing.

I've never liked the song "Big Yellow Taxi" by Joni Mitchell. (Equally shitty remakes were done by Amy Grant and Counting Crows.)

But there is one profound line in the song: "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone…"

These words largely describe the long-standing perspective I've held regarding my own circumstances: I ignore the long list of incredible blessings in my life, and emphasize the minor hardships, even though the former outweighs the latter many times over.

Why is it so hard to be content with what we have? Why do we always want more? And why are we so unwilling (or unable?) to recognize the beauty and provision of the present? Why do we view these things with a sense of entitlement, as opposed to a spirit of humble gratitude?

These questions have become more pronounced for me in recent months.

This past August, I traveled with a group of people to Guatemala on a work trip (more detail about this in a future post). Overall, the trip was a beautiful, eye-opening experience that I'll remember for the rest of my life.

But one thing I noticed about our time there was how quick the group was to complain about trivial inconveniences. Only one of the three places where we stayed had hot water in the showers, and, of course, in no place was the tap water (or even most foods) safe to consume. Naturally, this became a topic of repeated conversation. Perhaps it was not so much because we were frustrated with having to endure without such luxuries for a week, as it was because we were so used to having them all the time.

Actually, all the kids there were happy. Why aren't we?

One day, while visiting my organization's development programs in rural Guatemala, we observed a young girl at one of the sites, probably about age 10, who was washing her hair in a large basin of filthy water. Instantly, I felt regret for earlier remarks I had made about having to take cold showers with my mouth closed, or brush my teeth with bottled water.

On the last day of the trip, at the airport in Guatemala City, I ordered a sandwich after verifying on the menu that it contained no washed lettuce or tomatoes. After about two large bites into the sandwich, I realized that the menu had been mistaken. It was too late. I felt disgusting for several days after arriving back in Seattle. And I remembered that physical health is an invaluable blessing that nonetheless is extremely easy to take for granted — until you no longer have it.

But this is how we so often respond in a society where anything we need — or want — is readily and quickly accessible. Life's basic provisions and blessings become a standard guarantee in our minds — things we're entitled to rather than gifted with. We begin to view whatever we have as inadequate. Black Friday painfully illustrates this each year. People create riot-like conditions over $2 waffle-makers. That's sad.

What do you take for granted? What do you view with a sense of entitlement? And what would it be like if those things suddenly weren't around anymore?

Electricity? Indoor plumbing? Financial security? Your spouse? Your friends? All of those things?

In this season of giving thanks, maybe we should start to pay more attention to Joni Mitchell's words (even if the song sucks).

Getting the restaurant industry out of the Stone Age

It looks like the idea I've been talking about for years is finally catching on. (Too bad I have no technical skill, or I might be rich by now. Well, I can think that, anyway.)

Anyone who has been to a restaurant or bar with a large group knows what a monumental ordeal it is to settle the tab at the end of the evening when various parties are paying separately.

If the server is nice, he or she will split the tab for the group. (A good server will ask in advance.) Even if that does happen, the group almost always produces a small treasury worth of credit cards and cash, with the somewhat ridiculous notion that the server will be able to:

• Apply the correct methods of payment to the correct tabs without making a mistake;
• Remember who requested change, among those who are paying with cash, and provide the correct amounts without making a mistake;
• Do this all in a reasonable amount of time, while ignoring other patrons.

If the server isn't nice — or if the restaurant's policies suck — the group is left to settle one giant bill, while ensuring that no one got double-charged for an item and that everyone is contributing a fair amount. This is where the inconvenient borders on the absurd. The solution usually involves members of the group writing their initials beside specific items on the check to indicate which credit card should be charged for that item. Of course, figuring out appropriate tax and tip for each person — and for the group as a whole — is an entirely separate battle.

In this age of technological advancements, I've always been perplexed as to why we still put up with such a hassle — and why no solution has caught on. People love to go out to eat. They love to go out to eat in groups. Yet in 2011, our method of closing out dining tabs is still a throwback to the era of no smartphones or Internet.

It would be as though we still bothered to call the airlines to check flight schedules and book reservations, rather than simply doing so online, even though the technology is there.

Or if we still insisted on using phone books to look up the address and phone number of a business, when we could simply consult Google.

So why, oh why, do we still use pens and paper to split our tabs at the bar? Pull out those Androids and iPhones, people!

The application I'm talking about works almost exactly how I envisioned after getting fed up with the nightmare of paying for food and drinks as part of a group. When you arrive, you simply find the establishment on your phone and open a tab there. Then, the application provides a code number that you show to your server, which is used to keep track of your ordered items. Whenever you want to close the tab, you do so using an encrypted credit card number that the application stores on your phone. Not once do you need to pull out your wallet. (Presumably, you could still pay cash, simply by handing the money to your server at the same time you close your tab on the application.)

Some establishments that use this program allow users to split tabs with others. Even if they don't, it would still work wonders. You could simply pay separately from the group, using the application, and watch contentedly while others at your table struggle with the 1985 method of settling the bill.

The benefits of such an application go far beyond eliminating hassle. It saves paper and time, meaning that establishments could provide better service, and customers wouldn't have to wait forever. It reduces the potential for error. Perhaps most importantly, you'd no longer have to hand over your credit card, where it could end up in the wrong hands.

It isn't perfect, of course. The program can't become commonplace until a majority of restaurant-goers carry smartphones, which means that most establishments probably won't bother with it for the time being. But if you are an iPhone or Android user, you can look up restaurants and bars near you that use the technology right now.

I love to rip on smartphones (and the ways that people use them). But this may just be the application that persuades me to get one.

Voting on someone else's rights: The fad that never gets old

Colored states already have discrimination written into their
constitutions. This map should contain no color.

As if to illustrate that point, at least two states next year — North Carolina and Minnesota — will vote on whether to enshrine discrimination in their constitutions by denying gay people the rights that heterosexual couples enjoy through marriage. Indiana will very likely vote on a similar amendment in 2014. (Come on, Hoosiers! Like, uh, everyone else is doing it!)

North Carolina will almost certainly approve the discrimination. (No surprise there — it's the very last Southern state to join the party.) Minnesota could go either way. My best guess? The land of 10,000 lakes will do the right (if unpopular) thing and reject that filth, if only by a negligible margin.

I've written about this topic many times before. I hope I'll never have to write about it again. The notion of placing basic rights to a public vote — especially those of a minority group — is nothing short of vile. Repugnant. Disgusting. Contemptible. What other adjectives shall I use? There aren't enough to adequately capture my disdain.

It's not just unfair. It's not just discriminatory and prejudicial. It makes a mockery of state (and the federal) constitutions — sacred documents that (in theory) were intended to defend and uphold the rights of the minority against the tyranny of the majority.

Fellow Christians: If you endorse this type of abomination, can you really question why our faith receives a bad name? Would you like your right to practice your faith freely to be placed to a public vote? How about your marriage? What if members of another faith advocated for just that? How would you feel about that faith?

Proponents of such initiatives self-righteously argue that there's nothing more American than giving people the opportunity to vote on this issue (with the unspoken qualifier, of course, that voters make the desired choice).

During the 1950s and 1960s, when interracial marriage was a topic of intense social debate, how many of the states on the map above would have been colored in red or black, had voters in each of those states been given a chance to weigh in on the matter?

Possibly — no, probably — just as many, if not more, than are colored now. (Has anyone seen the 1967 film "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner"? If not, I highly recommend it. It's about a San Francisco couple who consider themselves to be politically progressive, until they find out that their white daughter plans to marry a black man. The movie does a good job highlighting the social tensions of the time over the issue of interracial marriage.)

Voting as members of a democratic society is as American as apple pie. Make no mistake about that.

However, make no mistake about this: Voters don't always make the right choice. In fact, we often do not. We are human beings. Thus, we cannot gauge the morality of public policy based solely upon what voters decide.

That's precisely why a government based on a system of checks and balances is essential. Government, at all levels, is operated by broken human beings.

It's why the voting process isn't perfect, either. Voting allows individuals to register their prejudice in secret. Those who publicly conceal their homophobia — knowing that it's socially unacceptable — can make it fully known at the ballot box, where it does far more damage.

And damage is exactly what we do to the integrity of our democracy each time we allow the basic rights of another group to be put to a vote, simply to accommodate the political trends of the moment. How can we be sure that our own rights won't be the target of those trends next?

Is this really the kind of "free" country we want to live in?

It's time to send these despicable constitutional amendments to the dustbin of history, where they belong.

This reeks of Karl Rove

Does someone here have dirty tricks up his sleeve?
(Photo of Cain courtesy of Gage Skidmore.)

Granted, I've never experienced it personally, but I'd guess that Karl Rove doesn't smell too pretty — especially after a long day of rehearsing shady political attack ads.

Anyway, I see that Republican presidential candidate (and purveyor of some damn tasty pizza) Herman Cain is blaming Rick Perry's camp for the recently leaked information regarding sexual harassment claims against the former CEO of Godfather's.

Frankly, I think he's off the mark. Rick Perry might be a renegade Texas cowboy, but he ain't no Karl Rove.

Does anyone remember John McCain's experience in South Carolina back in 2000 during the Republican presidential primaries? He won New Hampshire handily by reaching out to moderates and independent voters. But that was before the smear campaign began in the Palmetto State. By the time all was said and done, the Arizona senator had been accused of fathering a black child out of wedlock; his wife had been portrayed as a drug addict; his patriotism had been attacked; and his sexuality was called into question. McCain lost South Carolina to George W. Bush, and the maverick never regained his momentum.

Of course, at the time, Bush was heavily favored by the Republican establishment, and Rove became known as the "architect" of his campaign. Rove and Bush, who both denied any involvement in the smear tactics against McCain, nevertheless had the most to gain from it. And gain they did.

Fast-forward to 2011. It's obvious that Herman Cain isn't who the GOP establishment favors this year. Karl Rove, political genius that he is, knows better than anyone that Cain simply isn't a viable competitor against Barack Obama — and he's no doubt alarmed by Cain's unexpected (and somewhat sustained) rise in the primary polls.

Do I have any evidence that Rove is behind this? No. And this episode involving Cain certainly isn't the same as what happened to McCain in South Carolina 11 years ago. But it does bear some resemblance. And Rove seems to be reveling in it a bit.

Could it be that someone other than the two most likely culprits — Rick Perry or Mitt Romney — is behind the sexual harassment revelations?

Someone, perhaps, from the GOP establishment, who knows that Herman Cain needs to be ousted from the top of the polls if Republicans want any hope of recapturing the White House next year?

Someone like Karl Rove, who, though he isn't managing any campaigns anymore, still provides a good deal of Republican brainpower?