Connecting the Dots

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Nothing is ever created in a vacuum. While the words here are mine, they would have never seen the light of day without the dedicated work of the copy editors of the Albuquerque Journal, who would never hesitate to let me know when I destroyed the English language. Thanks also goes out to Dave Puddu, who through years as my boss and friend never let me quit writing a weekly column. His words of encouragement/threats kept me going when I believed no one was reading. Special thanks goes to my wife, Robin, for letting me make public some aspects of our private lives. Finally, none of this would be possible without the readers of the Mountain View Telegraph and all the friends I’ve made in the course of writing these essays.

Several Words of Explanation

IT IS WITHIN HUMAN NATURE to name things. How else can we write about something? When we say something is a rose, we all agree that it is the name of a flower. We call these names nouns.

To go a step further, we separate our names even further into nouns and proper nouns. We have a dog, but we call that dog Fido. When we write a book, we have to give it a name — a title. This assemblage of words strung together into sentences and paragraphs is a book, and its name is Connecting the Dots.

I had to call it something and that’s the best I could come up with. Naming something isn’t always very easy but this title is very fitting. A few pages inside, you will find an essay with the same heading which sort of explains the name.

This collection of essays is garnered from columns I wrote for the Mountain View Telegraph — a weekly newspaper in the East Mountains and Estancia Valley in New Mexico. The 82 columns here were written between 2008, when I became editor of the Telegraph, and 2012.

I’ve written a weekly column for more than 12 years, the first four years was a forgettable business column. If you figure 52 columns a year, simple math will tell you that I’ve written 624 columns in that time.

During that time, the only name there was for what I was producing was RORY COLUMN — the newspaper slug used every week to let copy editors and designers know what was coming their way.

On occasion, someone would tell be that I needed to give my column a name. I didn’t necessarily disagree, plenty of columnists name their work. I just couldn’t come up with a proper title that didn’t sound ridiculous to me. The closest I came was Rory’s Ramblings, but that implied I didn’t put much thought into what I was doing. Nothing could be further from the truth and to imply that care is not taken in the work I do is disingenuous.

Besides, Dave Barry never had a title to his column.

When I started selecting the pieces in this collection, I went with a working title of Without Ties. It implied my move to a job as an editor in an office where I didn’t have to wear a tie. It also implied a free-spirited attitude.

Yeah, I know. It kind of sucked, but I didn’t have anything else until I started reading these old columns. Until this project, I hadn’t read most of these pieces since they ran in the paper. It was a lot like visiting with old friends. Like old friends, though, some are welcome and others …

Well, let’s just say some didn’t make the cut.

As I was making my choices of what to include here, a theme started to emerge and it was one essay that gave me the title, Connecting the Dots.

It’s a metaphor, of course. If you remember as a kid reading Highlights magazine, you will remember the connect-the-dots drawings in which you draw lines so that a picture of a dog, or a fish, or a boat became apparent. As youngsters, we can’t figure out the picture until most of the lines are filled in, but as we age, we usually don’t even need the lines to see that it’s a pony.

As travelers on this Big Blue Marble, we are all dots connected to each other by lines. I can’t help but think that there is a picture in these dots and lines, but I feel frustration in not being able to stand back far enough to see what that picture is.

The essays in this collection are simply my attempt to make out the big picture, to connect the dots.

Some of the pieces you are about to read will feel dated; and you may want an update on some of the people and things talked about. I purposely left them the way they were first published. They each represent a moment in time, and to change them would be to give an end to a story that really has no end.

Plus, I’m just too lazy to update 82 different stories.

Please enjoy this offering. If you do, please buy another copy and give it to a friend.

R.M. — March, 2015

IN THE NEWS

Why?

THERE IS A SYMBIOTIC RELATIONSHIP between newspaper journalists and their readers because both share a common goal — to get answers.

When a journalist fails to provide those answers, the relationship breaks down. That’s why in school, or on college and high school newspapers, budding Jimmy Olsens are taught to answer the five W’s: who, what, where, when and why. It’s basic stuff that can get complex in a hurry, especially when emotion becomes involved.

For instance, I saw a Haitian expatriate on the TV the other day who was getting ready to go back to the island nation to help out. At the end of the interview, he said that what he is struggling most with is why something like this happened.

On the face, the answer is easy. Earthquakes are caused by the Earth’s plates shifting around. There, question answered.

But in a world shaded with tints of gray, the answer to why many times is never so simple to answer, and probably the one that most leads us to our spiritual side. But it seems that those who proclaim spiritual leadership don’t have the answer, either.

Pat Robertson, as you may know, had his own answer for why hundreds of thousands of people died in the Haiti earthquake. It was Satan, he said. The Haitians made a deal with the devil in order to gain freedom from slavery in the 18th century, and now they must pay the price.

That answer from Robertson leads to another question: Why on earth would he say something like that?

Again, there is no simple answer to that question, but I suspect it comes mainly from hatred and fear.

So why did hundreds of thousands of Haitians die? Yes, a destructive earthquake, the easy answer. But we have destructive earthquakes in the U.S. without that much loss of life. The Loma Prieta earthquake in 1989 that struck the San Francisco Bay Area during warm-ups for the third game of the World Series that year resulted in 63 deaths. The Northridge earthquake in 1994 caused 72 deaths. Both of those earthquakes were about the same magnitude that hit Haiti, but there was much less suffering. Why?

The simple answer is that in California building codes are such that anything built has to be resistant to an earthquake. In essence, Californians were better prepared, whereas in Haiti, well ... there was no preparation at all. The country is poor and is well known for a succession of one corrupt government after another. The resources to protect themselves from an earthquake few had foreseen were limited.

When we think of why we think of small children who continually ask that question. Why is the sky blue? Why does the sun make shadows? Why did grandma have to die?

And as we age, we learn that answering the why does not become easier. And for those of us whose job it is to get that answer, it can be even more difficult. Why was my child killed by a drunken driver? Why does the government spend my tax money like a drunken sailor? Why aren’t the roads cleared fast enough after a snowstorm?

The problem with why is that many times it can only be answered by finding the cause of a human motivation, and short of a mind reader, it’s impossible to determine all that motivates us.

We could easily ask why is it when there is a natural disaster, such as an earthquake, that we want to help. Is our desire to help based on true altruism? Or do we need to satisfy our desires to feel superior to someone who needs help? I know a guy who is really good at fixing computers, for instance, and while he won’t charge you anything to fix your problem, the cost is you have to listen to a lecture on proper computer use and maintenance. Sometimes you just want to pay him and skip the lecture.

The question why? is the one with the most judgment attached to it. When someone asks, Why did you do that? you are being asked to justify your actions, good or bad. And it’s a question we are most likely to answer with something less than the truth.

I can find the answer to who, what, where and when — they are all solid, fact-based answers. But it’s the why we all find elusive, and even if we do get an answer, would we believe it?

Why?

The most truthful answer I can give: I don’t know.

I’ll be Rich!

THIS WILL PROBABLY BE MY last column. As I write this on Tuesday, I’m getting ready to buy some Powerball tickets. The drawing for the record-breaking $550 million jackpot is on Wednesday. So, when my numbers are called, the chances I’ll be back to work today might be slim.

I’m not hedging my bet, though, I won’t quit my job until I’m awarded the figurative and literal big check.

Of course, when I win, you won’t hear anything about that. I’d be one of those people who don’t go public with their winnings. I’ve read a lot of stories about how those folks usually end up, and it is never good. Chances are, when I win, I’ll just quietly disappear.

Or maybe not. I’ve always jokingly said that if I won the lottery, I’d still show up for work, but would soon be fired because I’d only do what I felt like doing. Of course, I’m a manager now myself and I could easily see the problems in having such an employee. So I’ve had serious second thoughts about doing that to my boss.

My wife claimed last spring when Mega Millions was up to $600 million that she wouldn’t want to win that much money. She says that it would bring more trouble than it’s worth. Plus, she likes to remind me that money can’t buy happiness. I know that, but, when I win, I’ll be able to buy everything that makes me happy. She hasn’t weighed in on whether it’s OK for me to win $550 million, but I guess I could just not tell her.

There are a lot of things I’ll be able to do when I win. Certainly, I’ll be able to pay off my bills, take care of my family and my extended family. I’ll probably get a new truck for myself, and, of course, a nice sports car. I’ll be able to donate substantial amounts of cash to deserving charities.

I know that with great riches, people will accuse me of changing. Mark my words, I’ll be the same guy I always was, just with a boat-load of money.

However, I’ll have to make a few changes to reflect my increased status in the community. To make sure everyone knows this, I’ll hire John Williams — the guy who wrote the music for Star Wars and Indiana Jones — to come up with a theme song for me that will be played every time I enter or exit a room by the musicians I’ll hire to follow me around.

On special occasions, I’ll hire the Let’s get ready to rumble! guy to announce my entrance. You know, just to make sure people know I’m around.

Of course, being filthy rich means that some people will be bothering me for contributions, so I’ll have to hire a bodyguard or two to make sure the public does not get close to me. I’ll need someone to schedule my appointments as well, because I’m sure that those who hold the levers of power will want my advice.

While I’m at it, I’ll probably have to hire a chef and a personal trainer. The kids will need private teachers, as well.

And I’ll just have to obtain the services of a biographer, because now that I’m rich and powerful, everyone will want to read about me. We all know it’s important to control the message, so I’ll probably have to have a couple of media consultants on retainer, not to mention the need for an attorney or two.

Ah, yes. My days will be so much easier after I cash that big check and start living the life to which I would like to become accustomed.

So, all I can say is sayonara suckers. Have fun slogging along at your 9-to-5 lives while I live the good life.

(Disclaimer: In the event Rory McClannahan does not win the $550 million Powerball jackpot, readers are encouraged to forget this column — especially the last line — and please refrain from laughing directly in Mr. McClannahan’s face. Actually, laughing is fine, just don’t point.)

Defeating Communism

TO PROMOTE ITS EXPANSION into China, Dunkin’ Donuts has hired LeBron James as a pitchman. More interesting, though, was the announcement that Dunkin’ Donuts would be offering pork doughnuts in its Chinese stores.

I repeat: pork doughnuts.

You may ask, How can you do this? From what I can determine after an extensive two-minute search on the Internet, the pork doughnut is essentially a regular jelly doughnut but instead of jelly, pulled pork is put inside. There were also photos of variations where a regular doughnut was sliced in two and served as the bread for a pork sandwich.

For someone who loves both doughnuts and pulled pork all I want to know is how I can get one of these. It could be horrible, but I suspect that this would probably taste like a sweet and sour pork sandwich.

If you put it on a stick, this would sound like something you would buy at the state fair.

A couple of years ago, a brilliant entrepreneur decided to sell hamburgers with Krispy Kreme doughnuts used for the buns. To my knowledge, it hasn’t replaced a cheeseburger from the American psyche.

What is unfortunate is that the pork doughnut will only be available in China, where a Dunkin’ Donuts corporate official said it was part of the local cuisine. I suspect this isn’t the real reason China gets pork doughnuts and we don’t — this is just the latest weapon in our fight against communism.

Let’s go to the facts, shall we? More and more Americans are becoming obese, leading to upticks in the incidence of heart disease and diabetes. The president’s wife and a bunch of other nanny types want us to stop eating this junk because of the incredible health care costs associated with obesity.

China has spent years building its own economy by virtually enslaving its children to build Nike shoes and iPods.

In order to stop China’s march toward world domination, we’re sending them