Beloved Father

The memorial service for my father was held Saturday afternoon, March 26th, 2006. More than 100 friends and family joined together to honor him and his life. I gave the following remembrance. I did not use prepared notes for my introductory words, but I recreated them here, for those who did not attend.

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I suppose my father might open with a joke. There is one joke I told him that he enjoyed telling – I know many of you have heard him tell it, at some point. I’ll tell you a little secret about where I heard it. At the time, I was a preteen. My father would often nod off in his recliner, while reading medical journals and texts. I would be lying on the couch next to him watching TV. Sometimes he didn’t perk-up to send me off to bed, and I got to stay up late enough to see the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. That is where I heard Flip Wilson tell this joke during a stand-up routine.

A young man had a parrot that started acting sickly and depressed. He took the parrot to a veterinarian. The vet said that the bird was lonely and he just needed a companion. The man couldn’t afford to buy a mate for his parrot, outright, but the guy at the pet shop said he could rent one for just $25 a day. So, the young man took the rented parrot home and put it in the cage with his. His bird was not interested. He kicked the rented parrot to the other side of the cage and moped.

The man took the parrot back and complained that it was no good. The guy at the pet store had a better bird and guaranteed it would make his parrot happy. But! it would cost $100 just for the day. Well, the young man takes the $100 parrot home, puts it in the cage with his parrot. He covers the cage, puts on some soft music and steps out of the room. The next thing, he hears loud squawking and the cage rattling awfully. He runs in and pulls the cover off of the cage, and there is his bird on top of the rented bird, pulling out feathers and saying, “For $100 a night, I want you naked!”

Dad thought it was particularly amuzing to hear his little boy telling such a provocative joke. And now to the matter at hand…

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My father was an intelligent and driven man. He constantly challenged his loved ones to live up to his expectations and high ideals, just as I am challenged today to do him justice within the limits of the spoken [or written] word. As his children, we were in a uniquely difficult position to deal with the demands of our complex patriarch. To us he was lord and law.

This was a side of my father that only his children fully knew. He expected the world from us, because he wanted only the best for us. At times the demands were too much to bear, causing each of us, in our own time and way to pull away from Dad. He and I were out of contact for a dozen years. It took all that time for me to build the strength of character and self-esteem necessary to deal with my father on my own terms. Such resilience was essential to connecting with my dad as an adult, so as to avoid reverting once again to an insecure or insubordinate childhood state.

I had the good fortune to reach such a state of personal grace, and reconnect with my father a few years ago. I hope that our connection was as much a comfort to him as it was to me. Still, I know it troubled him that his family life had been so turbulent. At the same time, he accepted the outcome of his life. In his later days, he seemed to understand that his consuming passion for his career and his drive to improve his status came with undesired, but perhaps natural consequences for his family life. At least he was comforted to have me close again, not to mention the warmth and support offered by his wife, Mary Ann, and all of her extended family. I am so grateful to all of you for the tenderness and care you offered my dear dad, especially since I do not live nearby.

Certainly, my father spent much of his career building years as a man on a mission, like a freight train, unstoppable, and at times with blinders on. Given his childhood circumstances, his determination was both remarkable and necessary. Many would have accepted their desperate circumstances in an impoverished country further oppressed by the Great Depression – not my father. He traveled the globe, burning midnight oil all along the way, and leaving much of our family’s daily life in the hands of my mother. Sadly, as his mission largely came to fulfillment, he found his family had become fractured.

I am deeply sorry for the pain this caused him. I have forgiven myself, my sisters and my mother. In the end, I think Dad forgave all too. Well at least, he accepted his own accountability for his place in life – it was an enviable life, at that. He accomplished so much, and impacted so many lives in positive ways. He was a man of character, a man of morals, a responsible man. He had immense love to offer, even when he could not easily show it. Those of us who shared in that love are forever changed for having him in our hearts.

Namaste Father
We will love you always.

Disconnected Permanently

In memoriam to my Father, Jag Deao Serabjit-Singh, MD

Born March 30, 1927 – died March 20, 2006, at 6:30 PM

I learned at 8:00 AM on Monday that my Father’s condition had grown more worrisome, and my stepmother suggested it was time for me to visit, which could only mean the worst. She never advocated visiting him in his various hospital stays, preferring to have me visit after he returned home to recuperate and enjoy the time with me. I spent the day booking air travel to Buffalo, NY and nailing down everything as best as possible at work, before leaving. With a flight planned first thing Tuesday (today), that gave me the evening to put affairs in order at home.

My Dad faded quietly in his hospital bed at Millard Fillmore Gates Circle Hospital, and reportedly passed without struggle. I am grateful he seemed to go peacefully – this man who struggled and fought for everything in life. While he had suffered a recent fall and head injury, he had seemed to stabilize, before having a setback and progressive fading of his vital signs. Just days from his 79th birthday, my dad lived a full and abundant life. He took life on his own terms and was as ready as anyone can be to pass to what lies beyond.

Having learned the news not long after he died, all of our travel plans are delayed until later in the week, with Pat now joining me. My father will be cremated, and sadly, there will be no viewing or casket – he did not want to be part of what he considered to be a morbid ritual. On the other hand, I would give anything for one last time, just to hold his hand, even if vacant and lifeless. And I will always regret not making it to his bedside sooner, for one last connection with him.

I loved that man. There is a little hole in my life where he used to be. We will fill it with the love we had for each other, as I believe love carries on. In time I trust I will heal, though I will always carry a scar where that hole once was. I trust I will have more to say in the days to come.

Blessings to all who knew him, or knew of him through me. Many thanks for your love, patience and support.

Namaste Father
Rest Well

Important Details

Memorial Service
Sunday, March 26th, at 4:00 PM

Urban-Amigone Funeral Home
3645 Genesee Street
Buffalo, NY 14225

Reception to follow at a neighbor's restaurant

Italian Village Restaurant
804 Wehrle Drive (corner of Union)
Williamsville, NY 14221

Both are in the immediate vicinity of the Buffalo Intl Airport
_________________________________

In lieu of flowers, it was my father's wish that you send donations to one of the following organizations:

Buffalo Aero Club
Po Box 817
West Seneca, NY 14224

St. Jude Children's Research Hospital
501 St. Jude Place
Memphis, TN 38105-1942
_________________________________

Obituary on-line -- Buffalo News 03/24/2006

Also included here:

SINGH - Dr. Jag D. Serabjit, radiologist -- 3/24/2006

Dr. Jag Deao Serabjit Singh of Lancaster, a radiologist and research chemist, died Monday in Millard Fillmore Hospital after a long illness. He was 78.

Born in Jamaica, West Indies, he was a graduate of Emmanuel Missionary College in Berrien Springs, Mich., and Roosevelt University in Chicago.

After working as a research chemist for American Transportation Corp., where he invented a method for nickel-plating magnesium, he attended medical school at King Georges University in Lucknow, India, on a full scholarship, graduating in 1958.

A board certified radiologist, he worked at Roswell Park Cancer Institute, Sisters Hospital and Deaconess Hospital and was director of radiology at St. Francis Hospital. He also was director of radiology at Somerset Community Hospital in Somerset, Pa., and worked in hospitals in Bradford, Pa.

He was an assistant professor of radiology at the University at Buffalo Medical School and was a member of the American College of Radiologists and the Erie County Medical Society.

An avid flier, he was a director of the Buffalo Aero Club and a member of several other aircraft organizations. He earned his pilot's license at age 50 and flew for 25 years, commuting to medical assignments in several states where he was licensed to practice and flying to his winter home in Jupiter, Fla.

Surviving are his wife of 20 years, the former Mary Ann Kowalski; a son, Kirk of Jeffersonville, Ind.; two daughters, Cosette of Raleigh, N.C., and Sandra Welch of Chapel Hill, N.C.; two half-brothers, Bertram of Montreal and Balram of Fort Lauderdale, Fla.; a half-sister, Janet of Jamaica; and four grandchildren.

A memorial service will be held at 4 p.m. Sunday in Urban-Amigone Funeral Home, 3645 Genesee St., Cheektowaga.

Who Gains?

The Disconnected, part 2

So, you might write me off as just another wacko, prattling on about vague conspiracies to demoralize and fragment our society. My kind of worldview is often marginalized and pushed out to the fringe. It is a convenient way to dismiss views that are unpopular or alarming. Even people close to me – especially people close to me – prefer to turn a deaf ear, rather than allow any kind of challenge to their deeply entrenched and comfortable views. It amazes me how people will cling to popular ideas simply because they are popular. Even if these ideas are wrong-minded and in the end destructive, people stay with the crowd, like proverbial buffalo charging over a cliff together.

And that precisely is the enemy: the normal human tendency to go along with the herd. That’s what makes our enemy all the more deadly and our struggle more challenging. No, I am not deluded that there is some sort of organized conspiracy to spoil us into complacency, mediocrity and utilitarian compassion, while disconnecting us from each other. I understand that something bigger is at work here. Collectivism. It is a grand ideal that plays perfectly into our pride and preys on our fears and guilt. It is also a natural extension of tribal, familial and even genetic urges to further the species. But all forms of collectivism suffer from the same moral bankruptcy as was popularized so eloquently by Karl Marx. That vile little Rasputin-like man who could not love himself much less understand true love for another, has infected all of civilization with his insidious, cynical, spoiled-rotten, lazy views.

Throughout the halls of academia, Marx is taught as a modern saint, selfless and interested in the well being of everyone. Well, that was "his concept" of well being in any case. "Whose concept" of well being is the operative point. It doesn’t really matter if the ideas are played out in the Soviet style or Maoist style, as communism, socialism, democratic-socialism, mixed economics, as good old American styled social insurance or simply as academic notions like utilitarianism. The operative point always comes down to who gets to decide – who the decision makers are. Who decides how many natural rights and individual liberties must be violated to serve the good of the many and do the greatest good for the greatest number? And I don’t mean the uninformed masses. They largely are expected to pick between two big levers, the left and the right. The masses decide little or nothing, even with the help of public opinion polls, activism and political coalitions. The big talk about the so-called equity of democracy is just talk.

The kinds of personalities who come to power in society are fairly predictable. The ruling class tends to be aggressive, ruthless and deceptive; one does not ascend to power otherwise – puppet rulers excluded. They must also be charming to the point of narcissism, so that when they tell you what to do, it almost sounds like it was your own idea. What better way for an opportunist to seize power than to wrap oneself in an ideology that boosts the public’s pride and sense of charity, and plays on their fears, while soothing them and promising a safe future. It doesn’t hurt to have ready-made enemies. Better yet, if they are pervasive yet elusive enemies like corporations and capitalism – eerie modern day replacements for the Jews of World War II.

Finally, success is all but guaranteed if you can get people to act out of their own selfish interests, while ironically demonizing greed and promising to fight poverty. Because, if you can manipulate people to start lying to themselves, then your own lies will ultimately be more palatable. The easiest way to rule society is to get the people to subjugate themselves voluntarily – they will shout down and shun any dissident fringe for you. Marxism and every other form of collectivism since share these attributes. They make no room for exceptions. As I’ve said before, big government is collectivism.

No. No one wants to hear the message of liberty. Blunt assholes like me aren’t going to stroke you gently and tell you everything is going to be okay. Your big lies are more comfortable than the truth we have to offer. Even worse, we won’t let you play off your self-interest as being charity towards others; we think that pretending that we don’t all act out of self-interest is dishonest. We think self-interest is the source of much of the good humanity has to offer. We will expect you to pull your weight. Well, we’re not going to pull it for you anyway. If you can find some suckers who’ll carry the weight of a slacker, that’s your business. And likewise, count me out if you plan to waste time and money on hopeless causes, making it easy for those most in need of a collective kick in the ass to continue sitting on their asses. I’ll do my part – do it even better with you and government out of my way. My time and money will do my bidding rather than someone else taking it from me to serve their own interests and system of values.

Passionately protecting our natural rights and individual liberty IS for the good of the many and IS the only way to create the greatest good for the greatest number. A person or group who takes any of your liberty when you have done no wrong, has oppressed you. Oppression doesn’t always come in the guise of steel jawed sergeants breaking down your door. On the contrary, the cruelest kind of oppression demands your consent, that you fall in line with the rest of the mad stampede. And, if people like me can’t avert tragedy and send the herd charging off in safer directions, then the surviving few, those who were not trampled or dragged over the cliff against our wills, can take bitter solace in being right.

The Disconnected

First, please excuse the extended hiatus I took from this blog. Since the end of January, I have been unavoidably swamped with my day job. It is a familiar story, where I was assigned more responsibilities without adequate time to delegate existing commitments. After weeks of digging out, the worst seems to have passed. In any case, I hope to reconnect with you kind readers, which is on point for today’s topic.

Division, derision and partisanship. We are a society divided. More notably, we are a society disconnected from each other. We seem to like it that way. We tell ourselves it is a sign of our freedom, that it sustains our sense of independence and dignity. We are told that individual charity is amateurish and condescending – only institutional charity and compulsory social insurance can be dispassionate and professional. We need not be humiliated into admitting dependence on the good will and mercy of our neighbors or even that of our families. We are not impotent and needy; we are empowered and entitled. We have no need to depend on each other when we can petition government for all of our needs. We all deserve to have our basic needs met. Dear lord, this is America in The Twenty-First and 1/16th Century – Blah! Whatever…

The only word that comes to mind is “delusion”. It is pure fantasy, but today, that is the state of affairs. Most people have an inclination toward such visions of an ample, undemanding society. It is touted as true and good and wholesome. To speak against it is to be deceptive and evil and depraved. Well, here I stand against it. Take your best shot. My motives are only the most honorable.

Pat and I bought a house together last year, after a number of years renting a small house on the other side of Jeffersonville. A couple of months after moving in, we held a housewarming one Saturday afternoon. Neither of us have family in town, but we invited the usual assortment of friends and co-workers; attendance over the course of the day was plentiful. We also did something that, in retrospect, was too radical for today’s standards. We invited the nine households immediately contiguous with our new home to join our housewarming.

Our house is in a well-established sub-division, built in the late nineteen-seventies. The neighborhood seems stable and is home to a pleasing cross-section of Americana. The couple immediately to our right are the original owners of nearly 30 years – long enough to raise all of their children to adulthood and watch a son go off to Iraq. The family across the street has been there 17 or more years, and the family on our left has lived there more than a decade. We too hope this neighborhood will be our home for decades to come. Having signed-on for the long haul, we wanted to be congenial and get to know our neighbors; we imagined they too would be curious to know who had moved, literally, into their own back, front and side yards.

Even if they weren’t curious about us, I thought, perhaps they would like an opportunity to meet and greet their long-standing neighbors. With that in mind, we set aside the first two hours to get to know our new neighbors without the distraction of our established friends. Those first two hours were pretty quiet. All in all, only the prior owners who sold us the house and two of our new neighbors visited. One was the retired husband of the couple on the right, whom we had already come to know while out tending to our yard. The other visitor was the young adult son of the family on the left. We had previously chatted with his father and mother, but he was the only one home when we delivered the invitation to our housewarming. He was bewildered and at the same time pleased by the invitation. He said, “No one ever does this.” I think he attended for the sheer novelty of it all.

I imagine that had we done this forty or fifty years ago, the reaction would have been much different. There was a time when neighbor meant more than “lives nearby.” All I know is that despite our best intentions and high ideals, our so-called “advanced society” seems to be fostering detachment from our friends, our neighbors and our families. We are increasingly alienated, and it is supposedly for our own good. We can be cavalier in abandoning familial and neighborly ties, and maintain our foolish pride that we are not at the mercy of others. We can travel around the world and move halfway across the globe from our families; all of this is possible only through the popularity of institutionalized social insurance via big and powerful governments.

I am told these “advances” are blessings. Why do they feel like a curse?

Delays, Delays...

I regret not being able to post a new article this week. Please check back in a few days.

Until then, you might take a look at the lengthy exchange with our friend Bartleby in last week's comments.

:)-K