I haven’t written much about it, though it is mentioned in my bio and most of my close friends know: I lost both parents when I was just entering adolescence.
Well, no, I didn’t “lose” them. They died. My dad was a cop, killed on the job, and my mom died in a car accident about a year and a half later (no link here – believe it or not, relevant newspaper archives online don’t yet cover the 1960s and 70s). I’m not being pedantic – it was crucial for me to face the hard reality of my parent’s deaths in order to come to terms with them being gone. Why? Well, because everyone just wanted to dance around the fact that they were dead, relying instead on the usual euphemisms about death in our society.
And that’s why I mention it here, and now. Because there is a new survey out showing that we as a society do not deal well with children who have lost a parent. Here’s a bit from a Wall Street Journal article sent to me by a friend:
Their responses, part of a wide-ranging new survey, indicate that bereavement rooted in childhood often leaves emotional scars for decades, and that our society doesn’t fully understand the ramifications—or offer appropriate resources. The complete survey of more than 1,000 respondents, set for release later this month, was funded by the New York Life Foundation on behalf of Comfort Zone Camp, a nonprofit provider of childhood bereavement camps.
Among the findings: 73% believe their lives would be “much better” if their parents hadn’t died young; 66% said that after their loss “they felt they weren’t a kid anymore.”
Childhood grief is “one of society’s most chronically painful yet most underestimated phenomena,” says Comfort Zone founder Lynne Hughes, who lost both her parents before she was 13. She says she is worried that educators, doctors, and the clergy get little or no training to help them recognize signs of loneliness, isolation and depression in grieving children—and in adults who lost parents in childhood.
Yet 1 in 9 Americans lost a parent before they turned 20.
I have sometimes surprised people by saying that my experience of losing my parents isn’t unusual – not in the span of human history. Given normal lifespans and mortality rates, a lot of people through the ages grew up without having one or both parents. But our culture is really in denial about death, and so we don’t have the same traditions and rituals that may have been in place to help in other times.
Now, I came to terms with the deaths of my parents many years ago. Not all at once, but over time, and in my own ways. That’s what grieving is, and we each do so on our own schedule. But there are things which could have helped – and even to this day, occasionally I come across an insight that helps to explain some of my own emotional landscape.
A decade or so ago I read a book that helped to explain a *lot*: The Loss That Is Forever: The Lifelong Impact of the Early Death of a Mother or Father. It showed me that many of the things I just assumed were my own personality quirks were in fact common reactions to the death of a parent. What I wouldn’t have given to have that information decades previously.
And that is why I mention this today. I told my friend who sent the WSJ link that I was not surprised by the results of the survey, but that it would probably be very much a surprise to anyone who hadn’t had this experience. And that should change. Because there are things that we could do to help make the lives easier of those who lose a parent while still a child. And it would help our society at the same time.
Jim Downey
Filed under: General Musings, Science, Science Fiction, Society, tech, Writing stuff
This morning, as I was listening to the latest news about the impact of the Iceland volcano on European air travel, I had that classic science fiction notion: what if what we’re seeing in Europe currently were a simple fact of life all around the globe? And what if it had always been the case?
Think about how the history of flight would have changed if there was a functional barrier to flight at say 12,000 feet. Think about how the history of the 20th century would have changed – perhaps impacting WWII. Yeah, sure, you can fly a jet at 10,000 feet, but it consumes a lot more energy to do so – just that much of a technological challenge could have made a difference in the geopolitical structure of the world. Most cargo is transported by ship or trains, so that wouldn’t change too much, but would the world now rely on ships and trains for most passenger transport? Would we have developed high-speed trains earlier and more completely, perhaps even introducing trans-oceanic train technology?
Or what if something happened now to impose such a limit on jet transport worldwide as we’re seeing in Europe? How would that change our world in the present and going forward? Again, we’d probably find work-arounds – that’s what we do in this technological age – but how would those changes and challenges shape our reality?
There’s an awful lot of interesting fiction waiting to be written with just this one change . . .
Jim Downey
Filed under: 2nd Amendment, Alzheimer's, Ballistics, Book Conservation, General Musings, Guns, Predictions, Publishing, RKBA, Science, Science Fiction, U of Iowa Ctr for the Book, Writing stuff
I spent most of yesterday re-reading Communion of Dreams, to make sure that all the little changes I’d made in the previous week were correct and to see if I could catch a few more typos. Once it was all checked and double checked, I created manuscript files in the format preferred by the publisher, appended an email, and zipped the whole thing off. If you would like to see the finished product, the CoD homepage has now been updated to have the final .pdf version.
So, now we wait and see what the publisher decides.
And speaking of the publisher, I have had a couple of queries about them. It’s a new enterprise, Trapdoor Books. I like their attitude and approach, though of course with something so new it is hard to judge. And if this works out, I hope that I can help them as much as they can help me. If it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings on my part – lord knows that I had to turn down a lot of talented artists in the years I had the gallery.
But it does have something of the same feeling as when I first started at the University of Iowa Center for the Book. That too was a new enterprise, and no one was really sure how it would work out. Now it is perhaps the most highly regarded book arts program in the country, and my almost 20 year career as a conservator has both benefited from the reputation and added to it in a small way.
So, we’ll see. It looks like things are moving again with Her Final Year, and that book could garner a lot of mainstream attention, since there is little in the care-giving literature from a male perspective. BBTI will cross 2 million hits later this month, and we’re currently planning another very large series of tests this spring which will once again generate a lot of interest in the gun world. It could be a very interesting year.
Jim Downey
Age brings not just experience, but depth. That was a lesson I learned as a young man, from a book which was written long before I was born.
* * * * * * *
This morning a friend sent me a link to a blog post nearly a year old. It contained these images:
And this wonderful sentiment:
Stain is a unique tea cup created by Bethan Laura Wood, a designer from the UK. At first, the cup looks like any other cup, but the natural staining that comes from using the cup reveals a hidden pattern.
* * *
Bethan writes: “This project examines the assumption that use is damaging to a product (For example, scratches on an iPod).”
* * * * * * *
A month or so ago, I got a call from a student at the local university. He had a class project he was working on, and was hoping that I would be able to help him out with some basic bookbinding questions.
Hey, we all have to start somewhere. And he asked nicely. I invited him over.
He came in, introductions were made. A non-traditional student, he was an already accomplished artist/artisan in his own right, and we spent a bit of time sorting out who we knew in common and the local art scene.
Then we went back into my bindery. Discussed his project, and options for how to execute it. I showed him some models of similar projects, introduced him to some basic techniques he’d need to do what he wanted, loaned him some tools. He quickly understood my instruction, and grasped the essentials of what he needed. It’s nice to work with another person who respects craftsmanship.
* * * * * * *
A good friend dropped me a note, said that he and his family had decided to honor his father with a headstone made of bronze rather than stone. Potential vandalism was an issue, so they wanted something which would hold up better. It would cost more than the traditional stone, though.
My response: “I would guess. But bronze does develop a nice patina naturally.”
* * * * * * *
The student called a week ago. His project was done, and he wanted to drop by and show me what he had done, and return my loaned items.
He came over, we went back into my shop. He took out his model, and his finished project. Explained the different problems which he had encountered, how he had resolved them. It was all very well done.
I could tell he’d had a taste of the craft, one which might linger. We discussed his project, and then I explained how one aspect of it was well done, but wouldn’t translate to an adhesive binding due to one materials effect he didn’t have to consider with a non-adhesive binding (paper grain, if you must know). It hit him as a revelation, a glimpse into a much larger world of technique that he didn’t even know existed. And like a true craftsman, he was both intrigued, and respectful of his ignorance of this particular set of knowledge.
But it was time to leave. He returned the model I had loaned him, and pulled out the little bone folder I had given him.
“This thing is great! I’ll have to get one.”
“Keep it.”
“Sorry? No, seriously, . . . ”
“Keep it. I have several extras. They’re worth about three bucks. That one I’ve used, so it’ll have some of that additional history.”
“Wow . . .”
* * * * * * *
Age brings not just experience, but depth. That was a lesson I learned as a young man, from a book which was written long before I was born.
About fifteen years ago, I touched on this:
This isn’t a respect borne of fear for their sharpness. It is something more . . . something that is almost spiritual. When you use a tool, it tends to take on the shaping of the use, and of the user. It will conform to your hand, wear in such a way that it actually becomes more suited to the task, until in some ways it is easier to use the tool correctly than to use it incorrectly.
I think that this is why old tools, well made and well loved tools, are so valuable. When you take them to hand, you can feel the right way to use them. Some of the time that went into shaping that tool, training it for use, can be shared from one craftsman to the next. So long as the tool is loved, cared for, and properly used, it continues to accumulate knowledge, storing the wisdom of the hands.
Much of my life is predicated on this idea. When someone brings me an antique book for conservation work, I don’t see the notes and scrawls, the fingerprints and food stains, as something to be eradicated: they are part and parcel of the history of that book. They are scars, a record, a trace of the hands which have handled it, the lives which have loved it. We all carry our own scars, our own patina, and as long as we respect it, respect ourselves, for the record of our accomplishments, they give our age dignity. And depth.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Astronomy, Bad Astronomy, Feedback, General Musings, James Burke, Phil Plait, Publishing, Science, Science Fiction, Space
Happy Thanksgiving, to my American friends.
Perhaps thinking about giving thanks, and the question of my perspective from this vantage point in life, is what made this post from the Bad Astronomer pop out in my reading this morning. It’s about a scale model of the solar system hosted on the web. From the site:
This page shows a scale model of the solar system, shrunken down to the point where the Sun, normally more than eight hundred thousand miles across, is the size you see it here. The planets are shown in corresponding scale. Unlike most models, which are compressed for viewing convenience, the planets here are also shown at their true-to-scale average distances from the Sun. That makes this page rather large – on an ordinary 72 dpi monitor it’s just over half a mile wide, making it possibly one of the largest pages on the web.
Just for reference, the image of the Sun on my monitor is about 6″ diameter. Yeah, Pluto is a speck about 6,000x the diameter of the Sun away.
I love these sorts of things which convey the notion of deep distance (similar to the concept of deep time). One of these days I’d like to make it to Sweden to see the Sweden Solar System, which uses the Globe arena to represent the Sun, with Pluto a sphere about 5″ in diameter almost 200 miles away.
This question of scale – of the deep distance from one planet to another here in our solar system – is one which I tried to deal with honestly in writing Communion of Dreams. It’s why it takes over a week for the researchers sent out from Earth to reach Saturn (Well, Titan, actually) even using a constant thrust of about one-third gravity, and why there is a time-lag in radio communications of about 90 minutes (yeah, I researched not just the average distances between the planets, but where they would be in their respective orbits on the dates in the book – as well as what the intermediate time lag would be en route at various points). Which presented a problem in the writing – what to do with the characters in the book during this period? Which, in turn, is what I think made the readers at the publisher feel that the book moved too slowly in the first half.
Well, I still haven’t heard back from the publisher about the revisions I sent (and I didn’t expect to yet), so I don’t know whether I was able to address this concern adequately with the changes I made. And once I do hear, I expect that my perspective on the matter will change – as it always does, after the fact. Such is life. Such is the universe.*
Again, Happy Thanksgiving.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Daily Kos, General Musings, movies, Society, Survival, Violence
It’s always dangerous to quote yourself. But I think this is worthwhile:
“You think about those famous truths in our culture-about a son’s coming to adulthood and seeking to avenge his father’s death. It’s been a recurring theme in Western culture for centuries. Look at Shakespeare. The first ‘Star Wars’ movie was largely that.
“One of my favorite movies is ‘The Princess Bride.’ There you have one of the main characters, Inigo Montoya, say, ‘You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ And that refrain plays out through the entire movie. It is interesting because one of the things that same character says in the movie is: ‘There’s not a lot of money in vengeance.’ That’s a very insightful thing. I could not have allowed that to twist my life, to give me that sort of single-minded determination, to seek revenge in one way or another.”
At the mid-century point of his life, the pain is still there.
“Talented authors can explore these themes, but I was actually faced with dealing with it. My father was murdered and the man who did it was sentenced to death for that crime. But his sentence was commuted to a life sentence without parole by the court in the mid-1970s,” reflects Downey.
“If I dwelled on who he was and what he had done, there would have been a lot of rage that would have been given personification. I really wanted to avoid dwelling on the negative things. This man is presumably still in prison. I have tried my absolute best to ignore him. By distancing myself that way, I don’t feel like I have to seek vengeance personally. But the thought still crosses my mind every time I watch a movie that has that theme, every time I read a book or watch a movie, or an officer dies,” he adds.
That’s from page three of an article in this month’s POLICE magazine, titled “What Happens to the Children of Fallen Officers”.
Trust me, that was not an easy interview to give.
I’ve written about this subject before, and mentioned it in passing. It’s obviously, and appropriately, been a major factor in my life – one which has never been far from my awareness.
It’s almost trite to say “we are defined by the choices we make rather than the experiences we have,” as if life were just simply a game of cards where you sought to win some small pot of money. I know hard choices. Choices that have to be made again, and again, and again, in the face of ongoing societal pressures pushing you to make different choices. And because I have had to face this, I am much less inclined to pass judgment on those who have chosen poorly. I know full well – as lucky as I have been to have a loving wife, a loving family, and friends who care deeply – I know full well how close I have come to making poor choices myself.
Rage and vengeance are part of our heritage, part of what makes us human, part of what has enabled us to survive. That cannot be denied. But they are less important than love and community – which have allowed us to start to build a civilization.
Jim Downey
(Cross posted to Daily Kos.)
An old SCA friend was in town for a visit, and we got together for lunch. After, we came back to the house, since she hadn’t been here since forever. As we went through the place, showing her how we had settled in, we got back here to my office where I also have my reloading bench and my big safe for guns and rare books waiting to be worked on. She hadn’t remembered that aspect of my life from way back when, and was a little curious. After discussing the matter a bit, she asked whether I also hunted.
“Haven’t in years, though I used to a fair amount. Grew up hunting. I’m thinking that it’s about time I did a bit again. We’ll see.”
* * * * * * *
I just checked my blood pressure. 123/90. Yeah, the diastolic is a little high, but my bp tends to be up a bit in the morning. Still, that is dramatically better than when I wrote this 11 months ago:
Actually, my blood pressure was scary bad. When the aide took it earlier, she was startled by how high it was. Let’s put it this way – it’s in the range where if it were just a bit higher, hospitalization would be indicated in most cases. If I walked into an ER with that blood pressure, people would start rushing around.
What was my bp then? Well, I was hesitant to say, since it was so bad, and I didn’t want to cause concern among my friends and family. But it was averaging 230/120. Like I said, scary bad.
But as time has gone on, and I have worked with my doc to tweak meds this way and that, we’ve gotten it under control. As I expected we would. Which has allowed me to write here that I am a lot healthier than I really have any right to be, considering the stresses I have placed myself under these past few years. So it was from that perspective that I had this email exchange with a friend this morning:
Me: “Though I don’t actually feel old yet. I did for a while, there, but not so much now.
Hmm. I should think more about that.”
My friend: “That would make sense, actually. You’re not in pain from your own chronic illness, nor exhausted from trying to be a caregiver for someone in the last throes of hers.”
* * * * * * *
I never really *enjoyed* hunting. Not in the sense some people think of hunting as just going out and killing things, anyway. No, I grew up hunting from a young age, and just took it for granted that it was something you did. When I got older, and grew more reflective on why I did the things I did, I still found that hunting was a good thing for me to do.
Why? Well, I thought then, and still think today, that if you are a meat-eater you should occasionally actually go kill something and then clean and butcher the animal. It helps keep me honest about the fact that with every bit of meat I eat that an animal died.
Oh, there are other aspects of hunting I enjoyed. Getting out in the woods/fields. Challenging my skill with firearms. Making me more aware of the sights and sounds around me. Maybe being with friends or family, though I have just as often hunted alone. I usually enjoyed sharing the meat with friends – wild game just tastes so much better, and few people have the opportunity these days to enjoy it.
But I didn’t enjoy cleaning the game, or even the actual killing part. Necessary, yes. But not enjoyable. Not for me.
* * * * * * *
I have been . . . avoiding . . . working on the caregiving book for the last couple of months. Oh, not consciously. But it is clear to me upon reflection that I have managed to keep myself too busy with this, or that, so that I never seemed to get back to working on the book.
It is about 2/3rds done. Maybe more. My co-author and I made huge progress on the book through the spring. Seriously, about two or three months of work would finish it.
Then why avoid it?
Well, I’ve been thinking about that a lot this last week or two. And I think that it has to do with the fact that I am feeling healthy. That I am largely recovered now from the years of being a care provider. Working on the book earlier this year helped a lot in getting me to this point – helped me to understand and see the whole experience in some context. Yeah, it was really emotional. But coming to terms with those emotions was a good thing. I feel like I have slain my dragons.
And now I just have the carcass to deal with.
Understanding this now, I think it’ll be relatively easy for me to get back to it. I have something to share with others – this isn’t so much about me working through my issues, not any more. It is about helping others to work through theirs. It is sharing the bounty of my hunt, as it were.
Jim Downey
Filed under: 2nd Amendment, Art, Book Conservation, Failure, General Musings, Government, Guns, Humor, Predictions, Press, Publishing, RKBA, Science Fiction, Society
I’d mentioned previously that I had been up for consideration for appointment to the local Planning & Zoning Commission, but had been mercifully spared selection. Well, when it was my turn to interview for the position with the City Council, it wasn’t just before the Council and city staff – the local press was there. No surprise.
Anyway, earlier this week I got a phone call from a pleasant young man who writes for the MU student newspaper. He had been at the interview, and thought that I might be an interesting subject for an profile piece for a series they’re doing about local weirdos. No, strike that, let’s say “personalities”. Anyway, he asked if I would be willing to chat with him about myself.
“Sure,” I told him. “Let me send you some links for background information. Then you can decide whether you still want to do the piece, and how to approach it.”
This is what I sent him:
Righto. First, here are my own websites/blogs:
My professional site: Legacy Bookbindery
My novel: Communion of Dreams
My personal blog: CommunionBlog
A big ballistics-research project: Ballistics By The Inch
And the related blog: BBTI Blog
My ‘archive’ site: A Fine LineThat last one also contains all the columns I wrote for the Columbia Trib when I was doing that, under the “Art & Culture” heading.
A few years ago someone actually created a Wikipedia page on me (which I need to update): James Downey
Then there’s this forum I created for the Neighborhood Alliance effort in June.
And I’m one of the primary writers at this blog: Unscrewing The Inscrutable
Beyond that, you can search the archives at the Missourian, and the Tribune for stories which have been done about me/my businesses over the years. You might also look under “Legacy Art” or “Legacy Art & BookWorks”, which was the gallery I had downtown (where Slackers is now) for 8 years.
That should get you started. 😉
Thinking about it later, I came to the conclusion that perhaps my life hasn’t been a total waste to date. More than a bit . . . eclectic . . . perhaps, but not a total waste. That’s a good feeling.
Oh, I may have some news this weekend concerning getting Communion published.
Jim Downey
Filed under: Climate Change, Fermi's Paradox, General Musings, H. G. Wells, Science Fiction, Scientific American, Society, Space, Survival, Writing stuff
OK, this was kicking around in the back of my head when I wrote the post the other day, because I have had a page from the June 6th Economist sitting on my bench for the last several weeks, waiting for me to get around to writing about it.
About what? Us clever monkeys. Well, more accurately, our genes, but for purposes of discussion here I will say the two are functionally the same over the time span I wish to address. (Which, when you think about it, is a rather profound notion. No, this is not my idea.)
The idea discussed in the article is this: that the development of modern human culture was dependent not on intelligence, but on something more basic – survival. Specifically, on population density:
In their model, Dr Thomas and his colleagues divided a simulated world into regions with different densities of human groups. Individuals in these groups had certain “skills”, each with an associated degree of complexity. Such skills could be passed on, more or less faithfully, thus yielding an average level of skills that could vary over time. The groups could also exchange skills.
The model suggested that once more than about 50 groups were in contact with one another, the complexity of skills that could be maintained did not increase as the number of groups increased. Rather, it was population density that turned out to be the key to cultural sophistication. The more people there were, the more exchange there was between groups and the richer the culture of each group became.
Dr Thomas therefore suggests that the reason there is so little sign of culture until 90,000 years ago is that there were not enough people to support it. It is at this point that a couple of places in Africa—one in the southernmost tip of the continent and one in eastern Congo—yield signs of jewellery, art and modern weapons. But then they go away again. That, Dr Thomas suggests, corresponds with a period when human numbers shrank. Climate data provides evidence this shrinkage did happen.
Now, this is a fairly old trope in Science Fiction: that some cataclysm can result in the complete collapse of society, to the extent that most if not all knowledge and technology is lost. Just look at The Time Machine to see how far back this idea goes – and it has been used countless times since. I play off this trope for Communion of Dreams in a couple of ways, of course, using it as both back story for the novel and for the eventual revelation at the end of the book.
It is interesting to see this intuitive idea borne out by some science (though it sounds to me like there’s still a fair amount of work to be done to establish that the theory is correct). And not just because it addresses some curious discontinuities in the archeological record. Rather, it says that intelligence has considerable staying power, at least in our species. Sure, it may not be a sufficient factor in supporting true civilization, but knowing that at least in our case it can last some 100,000 years gives one hope for it lasting for a while elsewhere, even if those civilizations do not.
Jim Downey
Communion Of Dreams 