"Change we can Believe in," or Maybe Not.

Four years ago, Barack Obama promised a new dawn for America and the world. What exactly was to change and how that change would take place was not too clear. On the eve of this presidential election  president Obama stays the course with change and hope. The people of Libya, Mali, Egypt and Yemen are not on board.

When I was in the North African country of Mali two years after Obama’s election, I took a photograph of a little boy in the countryside standing by a tree. There he was in his faded Obama T-shirt, not able to read what he was wearing and living in one of the poorest countries on earth.

Libya borders Mali.  Maommar Qaddafiwhile he was dictator in  Libya used his power to build an opulent, sprawling government complex for Mali in the heart of its capitol, his gift to this desperately poor people. Even in death the dictator of Libya represents more positive change to the people of Mali than Obama can imagine.

Since that picture was taken, insurgents associated with Al Qaida have invaded the region of Timbuktu and destabilized Mali. The little boy with the Obama T-shirt is unlikely to be better off these days. Unfortunately, our country under President Obama has done little to assist Mali and children like the child with the Obama T-shirt, despite President Obama's words at the beginning of his presidency:

"I see Africa as a fundamental part of our interconnected world  --as a partner with America on behalf of the future we want for all our children." (Obama, speaking in Acera, Ghana, July 11, 2009)
 

Libya, Mali, Egypt with the rest of Northern Africa is emerging as a region rich in natural resources and with potential to grow their economies.  Yet, change for the boy with the five-word Obama slogan has meant less food, less access to health care, less opportunity than he had before. In Mali, it is also more dangerous for this boy and his village, too.Like Mali, Libya's new regime is fragile and ripe for takeover.

President Obama and Obama's supporters should realize that the United States represents hope to poor countries like Mali and Libya.  Kids like the boy with the Obama T-shirt see a black United States president and believe that just maybe their lives could change for the better.

In Mali, I saw another boy wearing a faded T-shirt depicting Muslim leaders. I still do not know who these figures were, but I wonder who is winning the hearts of young people in Libya, Mali and the rest of the Northern Africa.

Chicago Cubs, 2012.

I've pretty much stopped following the Cubs.  These days it's a minor league franchise playing with the big boys. The little boys are outclassed and outmatched.

The arrogance of Theo Epstein and the owners of the Chicago Cubs is beyond reckoning. They seem to think that the fans will hang around loyally while they charge us the same ticket price to watch minor leagurers play major league teams.

There used to be a time when the minor leagues were for apprentices, talented young guys who
learned how to field and hit and run. Now, these guys are in the majors making dumb base-running gaffs and swinging at balls already in the catcher's mitt.

The manager, a dour and clueless former player, relentlessly talks about how he, we, have to have patience with these young players while they learn the craft of baseball. Well, opposing pitchers make the Chicago Cubs look like fools as they flail at pitches outside the strike zone and miss hit-and-run  signs like high school kids. Learn how to run in high school!  Learn how to hit in the minor leagues!

Who says that the building plan of Mr. Epstein will work? Most players who have potential don't work out.  Felix Pie? Mark Prior? Those that do learn how to play on a team and they learn from seasoned players whom they interact with game after game.

 The magic of a team has to involve seasoned players who know how to play at a major league level and engage younger players in the art of winning baseball games. It's not just teaching and honing individuals until you can insert them into a team.

The Cubs have been in countless building programs over the century of futility.  Chicago Cub fans have suffered for long decades but now we are being taken for granted. The owner seems to think that Cub fans will pay to see whatever inept team shows up at Clark and Addison.

I've had enough.  I love Wrigley Field.  I even warm-up to the Chicago Cubs as lovable losers. But, enough is enough. I hate what is being shoved down our throats in 2012: a team made up of kids who should be in Iowa learning how to hit, pitch and play on a team.

I'm not going anymoreChicago Cub games and I'm not watching them, either. Wait! I take that back.  I really enjoyed the Little League finals.  Great baseball.



 

Nuremburg, Germany, 2012.

        It is late July and I am on a European river cruise with two friends. I like cruises but hate the
boring tour guides, so I usually go off on my own whenever I'm visiting some place new. Today at 6 AM  I carefully make my way down the gang-plank and begin walking along the canal which links Neuremburg to the Main and Danube Rivers.

Although there is only the ocasional cyclist at this early hour, I skip the bike path and opt for one of the dirt paths which radiate away from the bike lanes. I take one of them and meander toward a forest, lush and still, mostly dark, though the tall evergreens are letting in some light alread. Scrub brush grows up along the path and  areas of sparce green grass are becoming almost meadows, spaced among the groves of trees.

On my left, just ten minutes into my walk I see a figure standing still in a field maybe seventy feet from me. It's a lone deer,smaller than our white-tailed species, hiding from me right out in the open.  She is sure that I won't notice her. (I decide it's a "she" simply because this deer has no antlers. I actually hope she's a she.) Her long ears are erect and turned in my direction and her fur appears to be dark grey with the morning light just touching her head and haunches. Her large eyes are glistening and steady as they regard me.

The deer is a microcosm for me. I look at her for who she is and she looks at me for who I am.
In that mystery, I find God. Why can't He come to me in the glance of a deer? Or, surprise me with a song of a red-bird in mid-winter or a wild orchid in the shadow of a sycamore tree in April?

We look at one another for some minutes. No one else is around.  It's very quiet. I make a move to continue down the dirt path and instantly the deer bounds once, twice and enters the darkness of the thick forest.

This is why I go places, often by myself.  This European deer is a new species for me, the Western Roe Deer (Capreolus capreolus). Wild deer still survive here in Bavaria after industrialization, two world wars and habitat destruction.

The guide this morning will miss seeing this deer and so will the rest of the passangers.  Maybe they wouldn't care to experience a wild deer in a Bavarian Forest.

If I do not see anything else on this journey that is new, I will remember this morning, and this deer outside of Neuremberg Germanyon a hot summer morning in July.