Comparing Travel Notes

Professor J,

I keep waiting for you to start writing "ship's log" and "stardate" on these posts at any time. Though Captain Kirk never had Belgian dark chocolate and blueberry crepes to rave about. :)

Your description of your eventful Independence day with MFP reminds me of the problem I have with the holiday: it's in July. Though this summer is certainly less hot and humid than any I remember in the last 20 years.

The day my daughter and I visited the National Archives we walked right in and I lingered at the Declaration of Independence chatting with a security guard about the many ways it is protected (at the first sign of trouble it descends into an earthquake, bomb, water proof vault). And of course the case it is contained in is nearly indestructible itself. Unfortunately the ideas contained are not so easily defended.  I took my time at the Constitution as well. A few years ago when my son toured Washington the line was so long the guide just skipped the Archives altogether.

Big parades are best on television. The only parades worth watching in real life are small town ones, with local bands, fire trucks, the guys from the VFW, and homecoming queens in convertibles. They last about half an hour and then you get to go home. It is amusing however that no matter how big or important the parade is they're  not all that different. Of course, that made me wonder about the history of parades. Not surprisingly of course they seem to have started with military leaders marching around showing off their power or parading victims of conquest through the streets back home. I have two distinct pictures in my mind when I think "parade." One is a Christmas one we happened on one Saturday in a tiny town in North Georgia. It included dump trucks with Christmas lights (exotic, I tell you). The other is the scene in Cleopatra when Elizabeth Taylor, atop what must be the largest "float' ever is hauled through the streets of Rome with her son. Burly slaves pull the ropes. They'd really envy the guys holding the strings for the inflatable cartoon characters.

I'm resisting the urge to go down the Roman Road you set up so nicely by reminding myself this is light summer reading. I have Gibbon within arm's reach but you'll notice I'm practicing real restraint. Still that last bit...no. No, I tell you. LOL

MFP brought out her charming conversational self when she felt like it? Ah, yes. Teenagers. Every once in a while they like to show us that it isn't that they aren't capable of doing what we'd like, they simply don't like doing it on command. She's giving you a little glimpse of where she's headed. One day out of the blue you'll notice that she's that person more often than not and you'll wonder when that happened. :)

I won't even pretend like I'm not envious about viewing Fourth of July Fireworks from under the Washington Monument!

How is it that we don't have a "travel" label? 

Travel Log

Dear Readers:

Madame has given sensible advice about being the good traveler! Those who have eyes, heed!

The travelogue continues, but the day I describe is July 4^th (or “4^th of July” in the popular term of reaching back to describe).

It started out with a cheese, spinach, and egg crepe, along with a Belgian dark chocolate and blueberry crepe from the good crepe place across the street. Very tasty.

It was alas too late, given teenage slumber physiology, to catch the annual re-enactment of the reading of the Declaration of Independence at the National Archives, but with the long day ahead, maybe just as well.

Proceeded on down to the “National Mall,” where all the notable buildings, memorials, etc. are.  See the Zero Milestone, the center of capitol (not to be confused with the center of the Capitol), and, at one time, the supposed center of the nation.  Sort of an “all roads lead to Rome” thing, appropriate given how much the Founders modeled their politics and architecture off ancient Rome. 

Quickly saw the Haupt Fountain and the German-American Friendship Garden, and then settled in to watch the 4^th of July parade down Constitution Avenue.  In truth, it was not much different from many parades—high school bands, car enthusiasts, service organizations, floats, big floating cartoon figures on strings, etc.—but they did have military bands as well, and they had the DC Air National Guard out as additional security.  It was hot and humid, and the parade was too long and repetitive.  The walking and the heat elicited loud, whiny, but not frequent, complaints from MFP.  Although I didn’t agree with her about the walking, and only a little about the heat and humidity, I’d had enough of the parade.

So after a while we escaped the heat and toured the Smithsonian American History Museum.  As well as eating at the café there, which wasn’t bad, although pricey.  Biggest arugula and squash salad I’ve ever had.  The museum was interesting, but not a favorite.  And the simulator ride to the dinosaur underwater past was a bit on the lame side.

Toured the Smithsonian Natural History museum next.  A fair amount of neat to see things.  Biggest crowd was to see the Hope Diamond.  I was thinking of some Pierce Brosnan movie about some heist, but in reading about the diamond’s tragic history, maybe all the would be thieves have decided that it’s cursed and better left alone, as there didn’t seem to be too much concern about it. 

Walked by some Dept of Justice buildings and then it was on to the National Aquarium.  Although it had piranhas, sharks, and alligators, I had to agree with MFP that it was a bit on the depressing side, with its obvious lack of funding.  With her love of animals, zoos, aquariums, etc., it was disheartening, especially being right in the middle of the federal DC complex.

The line at the National Archives was very long and moving slowly.  Probably not a good choice in the heat, I decided.

Walked over to see how the crowds were near the Lincoln Memorial.  Some stoner band was playing in the park, saying something about how there was no organized event this year but they were having a disorganized one anyway.  They rambled semi-coherently about how irresponsible and dark-hearted the dysfunctional government was on a number of issues: environment, marijuana, minority incarceration, etc.

The steps of the Lincoln Memorial were entirely covered with people already placing themselves for the fireworks.  Took a few pics of the Reflecting Pool and then it was back to being just under the Washington Monument.  Sat next to some ladies, who struck up a conversation with MFP in which she palavered both well and extensively, something she chooses to bring out only occasionally (like a number of teenagers, am sure!).  Or maybe she was just making up for wandering off for more than a bit, a sideline story sometime.

The crowds are big, really big, but not overwhelming.  The fireworks begin, and they are as spectacular as they look on TV (or in USA Today the next day, where, looking at the front page display, I could say “I was there”).   

It was a decent day, all told.  Yet I couldn’t help thinking back to words heard earlier in the day:

"Our children are soft."
Yes, and one day they will be conquered by a people who aren't, I thought.

How many Roman parents once uttered similar words, in the capitol, surrounded by grand architecture, while celebrating Rome’s founding?

Like Seeing the World, Do You?

Professor J,

Your relating of travel experiences combined with food descriptions reminds me of Anthony Bourdain. Though the descriptions of your meals are a bit less adventurous than some of the things I've seen him eat in third world countries. I hope our readers are enjoying it as much as I am. Since I have little to add (in any light way) to this week's post of yours, I'm inserting a recent post from my own blog.

Seeing the World:

People often have "seeing the world" as one of those things at the top of their lifetime to-do-lists. Pyramids beckon from a desert, bustling cities sing a siren's song, and we long for far off sunsets on romantic beaches. For some of us who have adventurous spirits we cannot bear to think that there are entire seas we may never dip a toe in. Travel has much to teach us about ourselves, and if we are fortunate enough to do a bit of it, there are life lessons for the taking.

Open your eyes: We want to see what there is to see. Arrive in any city and the first thing everyone wants to know is "What should we see here?" We want to mark something off our list; a museum, a piece of art, a renowned building. One reason for this is that when we return home we want to be able to answer the question "What did you see?" Unfortunately often in our quest to plow from one tourist stop to another we are blinded to treasures available all around us. Every new place offers up countless unfamiliar aromas, sights, and sounds. Take a moment to pay attention.

Open your heart: Traveling with an open heart means that you are open to getting to know people and their culture. Meeting locals or even other travelers enriches the experience, but  you have to be willing to share a bit of yourself. Chances are, you aren't going to travel halfway around the world and find your soul mate but you may make new friends or engage the culture in a way that teaches you something. If you are paying attention and are in tune with your spirit you can allow the positive things from others to seep into your heart.

Open your mind: Leave the judgement and uber nationalism at home. Patriotism is fine, but let go of the arrogance of thinking that what you are familiar with is necessarily right or better. Every culture has lessons to teach. Be respectful of other religions, customs, morals. Be willing to adapt yourself to whatever the situation is. Ask yourself: What can I learn from these people? What are the positive things about this culture? Allow yourself to be enlightened by the new and different.

If you can't travel: Globe trotting can be expensive. Though happiness studies show that it is a better investment than a material purchase, it may still not be possible for you to make the trip of a lifetime at this point in your life. That doesn't need to keep you from seeing the world. You can open your eyes, heart, and mind right in your own back yard. Have you been to all the museums, art galleries, and parks in your own town? Everyplace has something to offer.

 One thing that travel does is break up the monotony and ordinariness of the day. You can do that wherever you are by visiting the main attractions in your hometown. It's amazing how many people haven't been to the spot in their town that attracts out of town visitors. Open your eyes and see what nearby places have going on. Get a group of friends together and book a tour of local attractions.

Within our own communities we tend to form groups and relationships with those who are like us or have similar interests. Open your heart at home by volunteering at a local charity, or getting involved in a community project. Sit at an outdoor cafe and watch people. Just observing others going about their business can make you feel more connected. Noticing the similarities and diversity in those around you can lead to a feeling of understanding and connectivity. Work on meeting new people outside your normal group of contacts. 

Especially in America every town has several cultures living together. Open your mind by shopping in an ethnic store in another part of the city. Visit a church whose religion you know nothing about or attend an ethnic festival. Participate in a language class offered by a church (I took Greek this way a couple of years ago).

 See your world. Wherever it is. 

Travel To

Madame,

Good observations and comments, worthy of engagement!  Forgive me my indulgence in “light summer writing,” as I continue this serial!

The next day was the Holocaust Museum.  Made quite the impression on MFP (Miss Face Palm, for those of you just joining us).  Looking at the wonderfully done museum, which had just the right mixture of detail and ready accessibility, one got so many insights into how EASY such a thing happened.  The Nazis used simple messages, along with a simple strategy of dividing people, injecting fear, and using economic plight. When apathy toward others conjoins with economic hardship, it is so easy to incrementally move to what in the beginning is the unthinkable.  Watching the burning of synagogues in the early days, the shaming, and the ostracizing, was hard-hitting.  Some people in the crowds were enthusiastic, some were bewildered, and some seemed to be standing around wondering when SOMEONE or SOMEONES were going to stop the crazies.  But most simply ignored it, a denial or apathy.  After all, since THEY themselves weren’t political, what business was it of theirs, what could it possibly mean for their lives?  And if anything, rural people seemed to be even more susceptible to apathy or denial.  “The German people slumber on in their dull, stupid sleep and encourage these fascist criminals” reads a White Rose (German anti-Nazi peaceful resistance underground movement) leaflet from June 1942.  The Museum features a section on that movement.  What it only touches on briefly is that by 1942, the movement, which contained a large number of students and their professors, had been half wiped out (killed), and by the end of 1944, it would be nearly entirely wiped out.

It seemed to me that the faces in the videos at the museum of the bystanders or persecutors looked to be the same unexamining,  ideologically sure, faces in the ranks of the supporters of so many of the politicians that get elected today.

Of course, there were many other things in the museum, and different aspects make stronger impressions on different people.  The stacks of shoes, the rail cars, the faces of a village culture entirely wiped out, the looks on childrens’ faces, and so on.  The museum is designed to capture the attention of adults and children in many varied ways.

It might seem that after the many hours of that somber museum experience, food would not be a thought, but I wanted to go to a place where the aura was positive.  So we went back to the American Indian Museum to the café.  Had wild blueberry tart, pulled buffalo sandwich, fry bread with blueberry, chilled melon soup with goat cheese fritter, chilled green pea and golden raisin puree with crab ceviche soup, spicy grilled chayote with pietas, cumin-roasted squash, pole beans with hickory butter, empanada sweet potato with chile chocolate, guava juice.  Awesomely good!

The concierge Andre at the hotel was very helpful, a natural.  There’s always activity going on.  A group of Nigerian female students from 20 years ago had come back to Washington to hold their reunion at the hotel, and I think he was amused and entertained by it all.  Anyway, K street environs keep happenings into the wee hours.  A late night (10 pm) dinner at Fujimar Asian-Latin bistro, right across the street from the hotel, was delicious:  Seaweed field greens, a volcano roll, black velvet roll, and chocolate soufflé dessert with homemade ice cream.    The sushi had some salsa type stuff with it to give it a kick, but not too much.  And Fujimar uses really long forks and spoons.  I laughed at the irony of a K Street (seemingly lobbyist heavy) establishment using long utensils, and was thinking of literary cautions about trafficking with denizens of the lower regions, of “using the long spoon when supping with devils.” :)

This particular night seemed to have Latins and African/African-Americans inside the club focusing on dancing, and Arabs and Middle Easterners and an assortment of women in the outdoor lounge area enjoying hookah and lots of laughter.  How many were lobbyists was not easily discernible.

I seem to have a limitation of being able to transcribe only one “vacation” day at a time.  :) Until next week, good Madame!

A Fantasy, Some Travel Memories, and Commentary

Professor J,

Since you asked my advice I suggest you make this travelogue a summer series. It's hot and no one will protest a little light reading. Besides, you still managed to work in some political and cultural observations in case anyone wants to ruminate on them.

If you are mentioning it then you really didn't "ignore" the fact that the "body in whose name knowledge is collected, ignores" the Library of Congress.  Hard for you to ignore that, I think. Your point on that is an excellent one though, one I hadn't really thought of. It gave me a mental picture of those men and women with ties askew, and jackets off, taking up every available seat and sitting on the floor with piles of books stacked around them like fortresses of knowledge. Sweat dripping from their brows and reading glasses perched seriously on noses, they all have messy hair and worried expressions. A sense of urgency fills the room as they pour furiously through pages, scouring hundreds of thousands of books. I like to imagine frantic speech as they ask each other what answers they've found or wonder aloud when and where similar situations as we face have occurred. Chaotic searching in the history section. "Do you think there could be any answers there?"

Finally, "What's that name over there? The one with the light out? Gibbon! Where's his book? Maybe he knew something!"

Imagine if the people who claim to be looking for answers and solutions, really were. A fantasy, I know.

I'll admit to being a big fan of the National Treasure movies as well. It's always fun to read a book or see a movie and then go to the locale. Dan Brown's books and a certain trip to Rome come to mind. I'm glad she enjoyed it. Hopefully, you didn't bring on too many face palms. :)

I traveled to D.C. with my daughter when she was roughly the same age. One of the "off the beaten path" things we saw was the sculpture, The Awakening. It depicts a large giant waking up and struggling to break free from the earth. When we saw it, it was located at  Hains Point, but has since been moved to National Harbor. The links that could be made to the idea of a sleeping giant awakening are obvious and numerous. I thought at the time the proper placement for it would have been the National Mall in full view of the Capitol. A reminder for the people and their (ahem) public "servants."

Mr. Snarky traveled to the capitol with a student leadership group around the same age and loved seeing all the protesters. His observation upon returning about the entire experience was that "You can feel the power. Things are happening, and you don't know if it's good or bad, but you can feel it."

One comment about your not snickering at the "Equal Justice Under Law" inscription:When I see mottoes and quotes (that your daughter might say are face palm worthy in their hypocrisy) on such buildings my thought is that it is the ideal, the goal, or objective. It isn't a guarantee but something to strive for, not a promise but a hope. We all know it isn't happening but it's the standard.

Perhaps your trouble with it is in that it seems more like "doublespeak" in many instances. People believe it already exists when if fact, it never has. Just like lots of other ideals we hold dear. We are falling short but cannot help be reminded of that very thing as it is written in stone. The question is how to hold those in power to the standards they say they embrace...

Travels, Part 1?

Dear Readers:

I will get to Madame’s posts and some other matters next week or so.  Here’s some light summertime reading.  My own feeble attempt to mimic in this one instance Madame’s Diary of a (Traveling) Suitcase!  It concerns a trip to Washington DC, one that Miss Face Palm (my daughter, who says I cause her to face palm regularly) went along on!

Arriving at the airport, were met by a wonderfully helpful station manager for the Metro (subway), who advised us to get SmartCards as the cheapest option.  Did as he suggested.  Got off barely a block from our hotel, the Hamilton Crowne Plaza, a prominent downtown location barely two blocks from the White House (and with all sorts of neat Alexander Hamilton sayings, including this one: “The first duty of society is justice.”).  Went and saw the WH right away.  I said the guard on the roof with the telescope was just the obvious reminder to everyone they were being watched. 

The hotel was on K Street.  Yes, THE K Street, the one with all the lobbyists.  Lots of good restaurants and hotels on it or near it.

Next day we went to the Reserve Officers Association building, where a friend of mine was responsible for much of the grandeur (it is one of only 2 non-government properties in the whole vicinity of the Capitol).   We met our congressman’s staff at their office in one of the House office buildings, and an intern there escorted us.  Got a tour of the Capitol building, including old Senate, old Supreme Courtroom, Hall of Whispers, Rotunda floor, saw our state’s statues, etc., plus got to sit in the Gallery (although House was not in session).  Everything was immaculate (important peeps!).  Traveled through a tunnel that had artwork from students from every state.  I joked with my daughter that ours would probably be stick figures.  Then when we got to our state, one of the paintings was about bare branches of a bush, lol!  Had a bite at the Capitol Hill Cafeteria before heading to the Library of Congress for a tour. 

Library of Congress: I ignored the irony that the body in whose name knowledge is collected, ignores it.  Our tour guide was good.  Looked at exhibits on early W. Hemisphere and also one on Civil War.  In the main floor area were the names of some literary greats.  Gibbon’s name was one, but it wasn’t lit up like the others.  How ironic I thought, so I took a picture:

My daughter thought it was all cool because she’s a fan of the National Treasure movies, so these places are “familiar” to her.  We took a quick look at the Peace Monument (Civil War) down from the Capitol Building, the Reflecting Pool, plus saw them setting up for the Capitol 4^th of July concert (for armed forces bands, plus Barry Manilow).

At the Supreme Court, we saw where the cases are heard.  I did NOT snicker at the motto on the building: “Equal Justice Under Law.” Death penalty opponents were on a 4 day vigil on the steps.  They had some persuasive arguments and literature, including this quote from now deceased Supreme Court Justice Harry A. Blackmun, back in 1994, after he turned away from being a supporter of the death penalty: “I feel morally and intellectually obligated to simply concede that the death penalty experience has failed…from this day forward, I no longer shall tinker with the machinery of death.”

                   

Finished the day with a tour of the Natl Museum of the American Indian (Smithsonian American Indian Museum).   Really great architecture, plus some great exhibits.  And the most interesting—and best!—food at the cafeteria. 

A bit long this has gone, to use Yoda voice.  I either need to rethink this, or turn it into a serial.  Hmmm.  I have barely covered a day and look at how much I’ve written.  What to do.  What do you think Madame?

Next, I'm Going to Need a Sauna

Professor J,

The summer heat here in the south (which actually hasn't been too bad until this week) has me thinking of far away northern climes.  My interest has been less in politicians and pundits blowing hot air than in meditation and rebalancing myself after being buffeted by cross winds the last few months. You may have already noticed that. I've been being very kind to myself which sometimes has meant limiting my access to current events. Saving the world has been put on hold...

In my long reading list I ran across a book by an American business woman who gave up her hectic globe trotting lifestyle when she married a down to earth Swede. She outlines her new found awareness and appreciation for simplicity in her book, On My Swedish Island.  She outlines various aspects of "Scandinavian well being" such as outdoors and fitness, being green, relaxation, design for the home, and finding meaning. I was interested in what she had to say having been so impressed with nearly everything about the Nordic countries I visited on a Baltic cruise last year. There was something calm, orderly, and kind I just couldn't put my finger on. Even when I was reading this book, the essence of what made these places different was elusive. One thing that I found interesting in contrast to America, where property laws often amount to one big "no trespassing" sign was the concept of  Allemansrätt. It's a right of passage across land and sea that carries over from the Middle Ages. It roughly means that you have the right to cross another person's land (observing certain rules and basic rights of privacy of course). The "right to roam."

I love that.

Along with an understanding of how culturally important the sauna is and the appreciation the Scandinavians have for nature, their globally respected sense of design held a hidden clue about something they understand. In the chapter on home design and landscaping the author says that Swedes appreciate "the long view."

She was speaking of desiring to see a distant view from one's home and even within the home, trying to create a space where one could see as far as possible. Being able to see from one room into another is an important element of design to them. But I couldn't help thinking how well that particular phrase might sum up one of the main differences between the Scandinavians and us. It seemed to represent their ability to plan for the long term in areas we struggle with: savings, debt, the environment, community.

While I was wondering how to work a bit more of this thinking into my own life and surroundings (I'm already sleeping in a Scandinavian inspired bedroom) I ran across a couple of new products carried by Target. Skyr the traditional yogurt of Iceland, which has the heavenly texture of cream cheese, and filmjölk a drinkable yogurt by a company called Siggi's. The founder, someone who missed his Icelandic roots and set about to create traditional Nordic products just for himself.

Now...if I could just get that sauna...

:)

How To Keep From Getting Old

 Our wandering professor has informed me just this afternoon that he's without "access." Which I'm guessing means that he is having a delightfully unplugged vacation. Computer free is wonderful every now and then. Since my lazy Sunday afternoon mood didn't spark any genius revelations, I'm practicing recycling. As in a post from my own blog:

"You learn something new every day." It's cliche, I know but since making lots of new friends at the museum, many of whom have children my age, I think it may just be the Fountain of Youth. In April I spent 3 days traveling to Chrystal Bridges Museum of American Art with my fellow docents from the Brooks Museum of Art. Besides learning a wealth of information about art, travel, history, and life in general, I learned something I needed to know in the worst way: I can stop being so afraid of aging. Because these people are doing it beautifully and are some of the smartest, most fun people you'd ever hope to get to know.

When the 80 year olds are calling you a party pooper at 10:00 because you say you simply can't stay up all night playing cards after a day packed with activity, you really have to chuckle to yourself and rethink the idea of who is "young."

Interested in not getting "old?" Here are some observations I made that will help you maintain a perpetual youth no matter what the calendar says: 

Keep learning. This is the first order of business. All of these people have lots of interests, are constantly learning, investigating, and talking about what they are studying at the moment.

Keep an open mind. All weekend the topics of discussion wove in and out of art, religion, politics, education, and culture.  Everyone was willing to both listen and speak respectfully. Disagreeing was done in the most polite ways possible and real hot topics, while not avoided, were treaded about gingerly. Learning something new, not scoring points in an argument, was the priority.

Keep moving: Carrying bags, climbing stairs, touring buildings--nothing was daunting to this group. Then at one overnight stay we were introduced to a couple in their 70s who live on a lake. He canoes and kayaks frequently, and she is a master gardener who swims often and then across the lake (which looked to be about a mile and a half) at least once a year.

Keep laughing: Age is no excuse to get old and lose your sense of fun. My silly group of friends who make hilarious jokes and are willing to do crazy things like walk down a crowded street with flashing teeth in their mouths (extra funny when it's a group and not just one person) are the antithesis of every stodgy stereotype you can imagine.

Keep thinking: Kind of like "keep learning" but different. When 13 people are standing around an art work discussing what we see, it involves observing, it means you aren't just thinking about if you like it or not. You are thinking about what the artist intended, hidden meaning, symbolism, the elements of art, and historical context. Look for opportunities for critical and divergent thinking. Ask questions, ponder things. Wonder.

Be the kind of person who others want to be around because you are fun, energetic, positive, and curious.   Don't assume that you know enough to skate through life and learn nothing else.  Don't presume that your opinions are right and you will never have to change your mind about anything. Put it all together and share it. Be flexible. Be open. Be kind. Keep sharing and by doing so, you'll release a powerful energy into the world that will return to you.

For the Love of Money

So Professor, here we are on the eve of our third anniversary of this blog. Changing the world turned out to be a pretty tall order, didn't it? Right up there with getting readers for a blog. :)

While doing some research for a post over on my own blog about the bikini and its effect on the male brain, (look for it Friday--the post not your brain) I ran across some interesting research being done at Berkley about the effect of wealth on people who have it. Or as it turned out in the study people who are even made to feel artificially as if they do. Here's the video compliments of PBS:

The study showed something that lots of folks suspect already: the rich think they have the right to play by a different set of rules, the ones they make or benefit them the most. They feel entitled. Those Wall Street raters you mentioned in your last post and the companies they work for aren't likely to feel the same pang of conscience during wrong doing that your average Joe might.

The study documented in this video seems to prove that the wealthy are less likely to stop for pedestrians at cross walks and more likely to take candy meant for children. A little trip around the internet shows much more research bolstering the idea that the rich are more likely to cheat and behave unethically in all kinds of situations. In the video I've posted here the journalist who is aware that he is part of an experiment exhibits the same pattern in his speech and demeanor as the students in the study who were unaware. So whatever is at play here is pretty powerful.

I'd be interested in knowing if this behavior is universal or tied to cultural influences like advertising , or a system like Capitalism. Historical actions of royalty, the wealthy, and those in power seem to show that it may be innate.  We can't fathom how the elites can ruin the environment for a little profit or outsource jobs to countries using slave labor.  We get surprised every few years when the local politician who seemed so honest on the campaign stump back home gets tangled up in some scandal once he gets to Washington. We scratch our heads and ask if it's in the water. We fail to grasp how the change that happens. In politics it's likely a power/money combination.

Is this what Jesus meant with all his cautions about wealth and the love of money? Is it why so many spiritual teachers shun materialism in their quest for the meaning of life? Is it why so many of us crave simplicity and associate it with a certain degree of goodness? Is the love of money the root of all evil, or at least a large portion of it?

And last of all, could it be the reason that the Occupy protestors felt such moral superiority huddled in their tents to stay warm? Is this just one of those things we all just know deep down inside?

And yet those lottery tickets just keep selling. We don't know to be careful what we wish for...