Unfinished Business
Last Lent, I took wise advise and spent the 40+ days trying to understand a virtue of choice. I settled on Forgiveness because I was most in need of that. A wonderful journey I highly recommend for anyone. The first part, why should we forgive was actually very easy. Every Religion, every ethical system, every mental health care expert agrees. It is not about the person forgiven, but about the person who forgives.
Now comes the second and hardest part. If Forgiveness is that wonderful, why is there so little of it? ( Please do not count the, “ I forgive you, but I will never let you live it down.” Forgiveness.) In fact, it took another 300 + days, and the only two reasons I can offer this now are 1} It’s Lent again and time for a new Virtue (Compassion) and 2} I promised myself to finish this piece of writing by March 1, 2010 and please forgive me, I’m going to.
That should not be interpreted as I have anything to offer in answer, because I remain as confused as ever. But I can offer two plausible explanations. Perhaps people hang on to the hate and anger because it pays off. Eckhart Tolle, in A New Earth, talks about the ego’s need to find form in constant thought. That long held grievances give meaning to the egos existence and it takes great courage and wisdom to step away from the “voice” in our head and see reality. We come to define ourselves as someone who had this done to us, or this said about us. Our ego realizes it’s greatest dream—to be noticed.
Secondly, seeing reality requires an autopsy of our lives and that can be very painful. Anger is a healthy response to immediate physical threats. If I cannot flee I may need to fight. Anger will keep me from feeling the pain when I get hit in the head. I will keep going and perhaps save my life. But long term anger is not protecting me from physical pain, so what is it protecting me from? Emotional pain. If I stop being angry, then reality will slowly emerge and I am forced to examine my responsibility in the situation. Perhaps there were kinder, better responses. That would make me partly to blame and realizing that indicates I might not be perfect. As long as I stay angry, I don’t need to face that.
I have a poster on my wall that says, “ The voyage of discovery is not about seeking new landscapes but having new eyes.” Proust.
The Amish in PA that comforted the family of the man who had killed their children, the man who reached out and healed the young adult who destroyed his son in a drunk driving accident, those who wished to include a candle for the murderer at the Front street shooting – those people had “new Eyes” and when God asks them ,” What did you do for the Least in my Kingdom?” they have a pretty good answer.

Hits, Misses and Musings
We just returned from a trip to Florida and I thought I would steal the column title of the New York giants Newsletter that appears after each game.
HITS
1. Gigantic hit to Allegiant Air. We had a great flight from Elmira directly to Sanford, Florida. It was quick, easy and Sanford is so much saner that Orlando International. On the return trip, we left Sanford at 8 and we were in our living room by 12:30.
2. Gigantic hit to Port Orleans. We have always stayed on Disney property, and this place was the usual high quality, convenient, well laid out experience you expect.
3. Big hit to Disney Transportation. They got us everywhere easily and without fuss. And the one time they were an hour late because of technical difficulties, they put someone on the bus to smooth everything over.
4. Super gigantic hit to Epcot World Showcase. OK , we had had a hellacious rainstorm about 5, so we went to the Cape May Restaurant for dinner. After dinner it had quit raining, but upon entering Epcot through the back door ( my favorite entrance to any park, anywhere) we discovered most people had gone home for the night. There were probably two thousand people left, which in Epcot is almost lonely. We had probably the nicest view of the light show ever, and then walked around the park for an hour or so after. Great time.
5. Big hit to Gail and Dean for giving us a beautiful send off dinner in Elmira, to the Margaret and her husband for sharing a delightful breakfast with us in Disney and a special hit to Fran and Karyl for getting us a reduction in rate and for sharing a very relaxing evening at Boma’s in the Animal Kingdom.
6. A hit to the bar in Port Orleans. Nice people, nice place.
7. Usual hit to Pirates and Haunted Mansion, plus the upgrade to the Earth ride at Epcot.
MISSES
1. Cocoa Beach. Fair is fair. Cocoa Beach is glorious in 60 plus, sunny weather. When it is 50, raining and windy not so much.
2. A conditional miss to Port Orleans food court. At 6 AM, after a nice walk it is wonderful, at 8 AM it is pleasant – by 8:30 ouch!! Keep an eye on the kids or they may become door prizes.
3. The Contemporary Hotel, which I used to love, especially the game room on the bottom floor. At one time it looked futuristic and exciting. Now it looks seedy and in need of serious refurbishing. And there is no bottom floor anymore!!
4. Kay will disagree, but one of the great joys of the Polynesian Hotel was coming through the doors on a hot day and being assailed by the scent. Sure the smell came from decaying plants, but it was just – special. Entering the Polynesian still feels like coming home, but now the center section has cut out much of the large growth and replaced it with orchids. Much brighter and much more colorful, but no Poly Stink.
5. MGM
6. Florida
MUSINGS
Just one big one has bothered me since the idea was put forward during the ride through the ball at Epcot. Did paper lead to the civilization of man, or did Civilization lead to the invention of paper? And how about the printing press? Was it really “ the reason for the Renaissance, or was it a byproduct that was inevitable?
Well, all and all it was a wonderful trip, despite the weather. Our welcome home was a little rocky, but that is a tale for another time.

S.O.S. Emergency!! This is Frankie Hairball, chief security officer of the S.S. Corcoran. My associate and I have been abandoned. We have not eaten in nearly 24 hours.
The residents loaded their belongings in a black box and left in their Toyota Time Bomb late yesterday. We have remained at our posts for as long as possible. About an hour ago, my companion officer, Bob, went into a semi coma. I have not been able to revive her. It looks like the end is near.
I was barely able to drag myself to this chair and send one last communication. It is growing dim and my paws no longer – wait, the door just opened, It’s the food lady! Please disregard the previous. Got to GO!!

Pledging 1966
Kate recently had a picture of her trip to Washington in her blog. It showed her standing on the ellipse across from the White house, with the White House in the background. It brought back great memories of my pledge trip to Washington DC in 1966.
At that time, there were three active social fraternities at Oneonta. Since I had managed to do so well in my first semester Freshman finals, I turn a “guaranteed” 3.8 grade point average into a 2.0, joining a fraternity in my Freshman year, seemed stupid even to my somewhat impaired brain. So I waited a year and “rushed” my Sophomore year.
Rushing involved lots of harassment, both physical and emotional. We were beaten with our wooden paddles, awakened in the middle of the night and dumped in the woods, forced to carry yellow buckets and recite ridiculous poems on demand. In general, it was three weeks of nonsense. But during that time, each of us was assigned a pledge trip to some part of the country to do some silly stunt. Someone was sent to a New York State Indian Reservation to get a picture of a teepee. Imagine the surprise when all they found were regular housing developments. Some one else was shipped to New York City to do something equally stupid. I was teamed with Paul “Rac” Lansperry and Tom Rabidue to steal a garbage can from in front of the White House. I think there was a fourth person, but for the life of me I can’t remember who it was. It might have been the legendary Vinnie White. At any rate, the trip to Washington in Rabidue’s car was uneventful. We stayed at American University on someone’s floor. We attended the coolest bar I ever saw, filled with Georgetown University students. There was a great band playing and I remember having a really good time. Then , the next day we buzzed over to the White House to snag a garbage can.
We got there, chatted up the guard who I noticed had a really large gun and a really small sense of humor. It was pretty evident that he would not mind shooting me to protect government property. SOOO we jumped back in the car, sped around the White House circle, and just at the point where Kate is standing, we snapped several pictures of what we thought were the Kennedy dogs still in residence at the White house. Since, unlike Kate, we were moving at about 40 miles an hour, our pictures were somewhat fuzzier. I spent two days going through the attic to see if I could find those pictures, but then I realized that even if I did find them, they would not fit in any of the orifices we put things into the computer, so I couldn’t share them anyway. But they do exist.

Walter the Cat and Mr. Neb
For anyone under 50, Walter Brennan was a popular movie star of the “old” generation. He often played crotchety sidekicks, or grandfathers. Part of his portrayal was a “hitch in his get along”, better known as a limp. I was astounded to see him at an awards ceremony and find out he did not have a real limp, it was just part of the act.
A few days ago, Bob, our older cat, developed a sever limp. Whether, she and Frankie, the little one, got into a fight, if she fell off something, if she tried to outrun a mouse, who knows, but the limp was serious. We took her to the vets, where she was folded, stapled and manipulated beyond belief by the vet during his exam. The result was a cat with a much worse limp, and the news that she has basically blown her knee ligaments. Better known as the Joe Namath Knee. The vet thinks the trauma of surgery would be harder on an old cat than the stress of the injury. I’m glad because the stress on the wallet of the owner would be worse than the trauma of seeing her limp. She seems quite fine with the whole thing. Since she sleeps 23 hours a day and since she does not need much athletic ability to catch her food dish, I think we will rename her Walter and forget it.
Last Monday I went to the Human Vet, to see if she could do anything about my cough. I started about six weeks ago and the cough has gotten steadily worse. By New Year’s Day I was starting to feel run down and found sitting on the couch doing nothing much preferable to getting up and doing anything – except eating Kate’s chocolate chip cookies, which did lure me of the couch way too often.
At any rate, the Dr. went over me thoroughly and decided I have asthma. Well, I never did, and I don’t think I do now, at least not what I think of as asthma, but a rose by any other name is still a long term cough so what the heck. She prescribed some new antibiotic and a nebulizer – MR. NEB. She warned me the Nebulizer might make me nervous and jumpy.
I went home, hooked up the wires, tubes secret medicine vials and blew drugs down my throat, all the time thinking where was this stuff in the sixties when I could have used it. Anyway, the first night, the results were really good. No side effects and the cough let up. The next morning I fixed a big cup of coffee and hooked myself up for the AM fix. Within an hour my arm took on a life of its own and started jumping, my heart rate was around 100 and I was pacing the floor. Somewhat alarmed I Googled the drug. One recommendation jumped out at me. “Avoid Caffeine while on this drug” Gee, couldn’t they have mentioned that?

Forty One Years Ago
At approximately 11:20 in the morning of December 21, 1968, Kathryn McDarby and William Edward Corcoran were joined in the Holy Bonds of Matrimony. A reception followed at the Stockport Fire House, catered by Mrs. Harold McDarby and attended by a host of friends and relatives. The couple honeymooned in downtown Sidney, New York.
So history records the event. Here are some of the little known facts (or perhaps all too well known facts).
On September 12, 1967 Phi Delta Rho Fraternity hosted a party with Pi Chi Sorority at the old City Hall in Oneonta. I went, danced with some Phi Chi chicky and graciously waited around for her while she was in the bathroom franticly trying to figure out a way to dump the dork outside the door. But I did have a car, and we were having a date party the following Saturday and that was a hard ticket to score, so all in all she would tolerate me for one date.
One thing led to another and before long we were seeing each other quite a bit -- for exactly 41 days. After that, we never spent more than three days in the same place until we were married. First I went student teaching and was in Oneonta only on the weekends, then she went student teaching and was only in town on the weekends, then summer, then Kay went back to school and I started teaching at JC.
What cemented our relationship was all the time we spent in a car – a moving car. I was her only transportation between student teaching assignments and Oneonta. I had an old green Chevy 2 without a radio. On the long trips from Oneonta to Illion or Balston Spa there was nothing to do but talk. And in the talking was the sharing and in the sharing was the love.
By New Years of 1968 I was sure I wanted to spend a lot of time with someone who I knew would always tell me the truth, no matter what and would still love me no matter what the truth was.
My big plan was to get engaged at our Date weekend in May of 1968. I had it all worked out. While we were horseback riding through the forest, I would give her the ring and make a great speech. What a dumb ass idea!!!. As I turned to propose, her horse decided lunch at the barn was much more important and clearly the person on his back couldn’t do much to stop him. I rounded up the horse and got her back on the trail, but the moment was lost.
We did get engaged, and we built a wonderful plan. I would get a job, she would finish college and the following summer we would get married. I would have saved a good deal of money, she would have a job and we would be on easy street. Only that meant being apart another year. In July, I was at her house in Columbiaville for the weekend. On Sunday I went to Mass and as I was sitting there it just came over me that I didn’t want to wait another year. I went back to the house and we all sat around the kitchen table with most votes being , “ not the most practical idea” but the two that counted being “Yes”
So, we decided to get married over Christmas break of 1968. That meant we had to find a place half way between Oneonta and Johnson City. That should be easy!! Except my take home pay was $362 a month. Telephone, electric and heat would run us $56 a month, gas for the cars cost us about $40 a month, and insurance cost us another $54 a month. College tuition and expenses sucked $30 a month from our budget and paying for living room furniture cost $23 a month. We could eat for $60 a month, but that would leave only $120 for rent and extras. That meant the lovely apartments available were out of our price range and the ones we could afford we couldn’t live in.
We looked at some amazing dumps. Finally, we answered the very last add. It was for a garage apartment on River Street in Sidney. It was an ugly, asbestos shingled building that sat way back on the river. But when we saw the inside, it was gorgeous. The floor was immaculate, the appliances were modern and spotless and it had lots of room. We grabbed it at $100 a month.
Kay’s mother planned the catering, the showers were held and finally it was December. We had a faculty meeting at school Thursday December 19th. They gave me a $50 check as a wedding present. I used it to fill up the car and to buy our first Christmas tree. I got to Sidney, set up the tree, decorated it and drove on to Columbiaville. We spent Friday cleaning the Fire House with help from Kay’s cousins, had a nice party at Kay’s parents house and I spent the night with my brother and parents in a motel outside of Hudson.
The next morning we were married, much to the objection of the Priest who felt marrying someone not of the Catholic faith was not a real wedding anyway. Bob Stark hid my car in a parking lot up the street so it would not be “decorated” I hope he knew how much I appreciated it. I had a great time at the reception; we were nearly the last to leave. We stopped at a hotel on Windham Mountain for the first night. I remember we were the only ones there and all through dinner we were entertained by a black cat that was playing on the stage. ( or hunting dinner which I chose not to think about)
The next morning I woke up with the most romantic thought in the world going through my head, “ What the hell have I done? I’m not ready for any of this.” Ten years later Kay told me she woke up thinking exactly the same thing.
I was excited to get back to Sidney and see the surprised expression on Kay’s face when she saw my Christmas tree. I got the surprised look, but I had one as well. During the three days I had been gone, every single needle on the tree had fallen off, dumping them and the decorations in a big pile under the tree. Never buy your Christmas tree in a gas station.
We unpacked our wedding presents. Bob Stark gave us three stainless steel mixing bowls which we still use nearly every day but most people gave us money. That money saved our lives. We spent most of the honeymoon buying the essentials for starting up a home. I remember how exciting it was to be together and to buy things that would be “ours”. Most of what we bought, we still use or we used it until it just wore out. The one casualty I still feel bad about was a set of salt and peppershakers. The salt was a little girl owl and the pepper was a boy owl. We had them on the counter in the kitchen. One night the cabinet fell off the wall and crushed the pepper shaker beyond repair. We still have the widowed salt shaker, but I miss her buddy to this day. It was one of the first things we bought together.
Time moved and shifted and life forced us to move on to new times. Most have been good, but I think, if heaven allows you to relive parts of your life, the nine months we spent in Sidney would be one part I would visit again and again.

The great crisis of life is not that we are unaware of our faults, but that we are all too aware of them. There came a time when I was so consumed by my failings I sunk into self hatred and self loathing. How could I be responsible for such harm to people I cared about? How could I be the great betrayer, the great enemy? I reached a level of such ebony despair I lost all laughter.
And then, between one step and another, I felt a great cosmic hug. With it came this perfect peace. And I knew things. I knew I would never be judged for what I was not, but cherished for what I was. I knew that “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us,” meant that we would be forgiven in the exact way, with the exact mercy, compassion and understanding we extended others. I knew that “what you have done for the least of your brothers” did not refer only to the poor or downtrodden, but the people in our lives we are the angriest at. I knew that “you cannot serve two masters” included the choice between hate and love.
I knew that God was not some great scorekeeper sending childhood cancer or car wrecks or floods to teach humanity some lesson, but that God would use those natural tragedies to work great miracles within us ---- if we would only listen. But, God never shouts, he whispers in the gentlest ways, and if you are not attentive, you will miss his words. Fear not, he will try again and again.
I knew that if God could love as disreputable, broken, and sinful a person as me, what arrogance for me to not see every other creature on earth in that light. I knew I would spend the rest of my life whittling down the log in my eye and ignoring the speck in others eyes.