Ric Menello

by Angela Welch Stucker on March 4, 2013

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Everyone should have a Ric Menello.

This is why – your Ric Menello will never tell you your work is good if it isn’t, but he will tell you it’s good if it is. And when you ask why (because you’re needy like all of us are) he’ll say in the voice of John Wayne, “It’s guhd because it’s guhd.” You’ll soon figure out this means “shut up and get back to work.”

Your Ric Menello will make you laugh louder and longer than seems possible. If you are the one telling the joke, and are very lucky, your Ric Menello will reward your efforts with a “full-Menello;” with an intake of breath, he’ll slap his hand to his forehead, lean over in your kitchen chair, so far over you’re scared for a second that he’s having a stroke, then let out a huge belly laugh that just might shake the floor.

Your Ric Menello will clean out the peanut butter jar in your cupboard so thoroughly that you’ll think it’s been through the dishwasher, then put it back. When you cook for him, he’ll say, “no, I was wrong before, THIS is the best thing you’ve ever made.” This pronouncement will be preceded by several “OH MY GOD’s!”

At first, when you invite your Ric Menello over to use your internet, eat your food, drink your seltzer, you’ll think you’re doing HIM a favor. At some point, when you keep asking him over you’ll realize that you had it backwards.

You’ll fall in love with your Ric Menello, not in THAT way, in a way that you can’t define. But after awhile you’ll stop caring about definitions.

Your Ric Menello will tell you that he has to die before you do, that if you were to die first he couldn’t take it. And he will get his wish.

 

My friend Ric Menello died Friday, March 1, 2013. I miss him.

 

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Faith, Hope, Love

by Angela Welch Stucker on December 25, 2012

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“But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.” I Corinthians 13:13.

Being hopeful takes a lot out of a person. With so much wrong in the world, with so much pain and loss, the temptation to backslide into cynicism is strong. And while I do consider myself to be a person of faith – not so much religious, but I do feel in my gut, in my core that there is a God – I am not exempt from questioning that belief. I can’t claim to have all the answers. To have any answers. I just don’t know. I do believe that there is something, some force, some energy, some “something” out there. Or probably more accurately, in here. But is that “something” something tangible? Does that “something” lose sleep when I’m dealing with something difficult? Does that “something” respond to requests for homeruns or no hitters? Does that “something” “care” about me, about us? Does that “something” send emissaries to us, send an angel to a very sad little girl at Christmastime to stand at the end of her bed and comfort her and tell her that she is loved?

On these things I can only speculate.

Sometimes it feels too hard, the road too long, and all I can think is – perhaps it’s time to give up. But the problem with that is I can never figure out what “giving up” means. There is no such thing as doing nothing, even nothing requires some action. That’s when I remember what hope is – hope is just showing up, when just that is all that you can do. And when you do that, you’ve already started to change things. And maybe, that instinct in us to just keep going, is nothing more than a biological imperative, no divine mystery, just something implanted to keep us from being eaten. Or maybe it has a divine source, implanted to keep us from being eaten.

But I don’t care, well not a lot, where this instinct comes from, I mostly care about the result. And the result, this imperative to keep going, to keep moving forward, to make art, to explore the universe, to see what things are around the bend, or to leave something behind, to leave a legacy, whether that is a child or a cathedral, or to try to make things better for someone else – that is the thing that makes us human. So that’s the faith and hope part, but the other part of it is to care whether our fellow humans show up too, to not leave anyone behind. And that, I think, is the “love” part.

I am hopeful because today we reach out to our friends, neighbors, our families, biological or chosen, we come together with the people we love. Today we celebrate the birthday of someone who changed the world, who came to tell us that we have the answer to everything in one word – love, and if we insisted on making it more complicated than that, that was our right, but really, we only need that.

“But the greatest of these is love.”

Merry Christmas everyone!

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Sandy Hook

by Angela Welch Stucker on December 16, 2012

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“Ah how shameless—the way these mortals blame the gods. From us alone, they say, come all their miseries, yes, but they themselves, with their own reckless ways, compound their pains beyond their proper share.” Homer’s The Odyssey.

“We the People, of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Prosperity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.” Preamble to The Constitution for the United States of America.

I’m a person of strong convictions and opinions, yet I try most times to see all sides of an argument. But with this shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut, I find the mediator in me unusually quiet. Because frankly, I’m tired of our willful avoidance and denial of the obvious. I’m tired of waking up to find out that there’s been another shooting, that X number of people are to be added to the rolls of persons murdered by a person with a weapon he had no business having. Tired of the predictable follow-up to the news of the most recent slaughter, the immediate comments, the absolute immediate comments, before the names of those twenty children and six adults had even been released, before the autopsies were even finished, that even after this, even after this—the immediate comments that we still must not talk about gun control. “Guns don’t kill people.” Yes they do. They most certainly do. Some guns even are designed to do nothing but kill people.

Then, once more I try to fathom why we are so obsessed in this country with this concept, this goddam sacred cow, one that the rest of the world absolutely does not share, the “right” to own a gun. We are so obsessed with it that we protect the rights of people with dubious credentials of being capable of owning guns without the net result being a bunch of innocent people being taken out. So obsessed that we refuse to draw a distinction between a gun and a weapon. A weapon, and ammunition designed to kill the most people in the most efficient way possible, to make sure those people, those children, didn’t stand a chance.

Of course, the answer is—”it’s in the Constitution.” Uh-uh. Because the Constitution came out of the chute perfectly written? We would never change one sacred word?

Article I, Section. 2 [Slaves count as 3/5 persons]. Article I, Section. 9, clause 1.  [No power to ban slavery until 1808]. Article IV, Section. 2. [Free states cannot protect slaves]. Article V [No Constitutional Amendment to Ban Slavery Until 1808].

Oh yeah, slavery was okay by us, all sanctified by the Constitution until we changed our minds and passed the 13th Amendment in 1865.

Another argument that I just love is— “gun control won’t stop every shooter, people can still find a way to get a gun if they really want to.” Well, no shit. Thank God we don’t use that “logic” anywhere else. “Gee, we’ll never make planes and automobiles completely safe; let’s not bother with safety regulations!” We’re knee jerk reactionary, ready to pass laws about everything under the sun – a convicted felon gets out of prison and commits another crime – we need a three strikes law! Boom, it’s done! Try to pass a law, any law that has anything to do with guns, forget about it. Unless the law is about further sanctifying gun ownership; yeah, we really need those “Stand Your Ground laws,” then it’s smooth sailing.

Then there’s “the answer isn’t gun control, it’s mental health services, blah, blah” argument. Right. In what alternate universe is this supposed to happen? We’re cutting social service funding at every opportunity; we’ve been pushing people out of mental institutions and closing those down since the deinstitutionalization movement started under John F. Kennedy’s presidency. But somehow through some magic, we’ll figure out some formula for determining which people are potential murderers and come up with a way, and the money fix them? Sure. And in the meantime? How high does the body count have to go before we say “enough?”

There is always a tension, in any society, between the rights of the individual v the rights of the collective. That’s not a bad thing, as long as we have discussions, debates, about managing this tension. Except, we don’t have those discussions, we don’t have those debates. We don’t talk, in any effective way in this country about important issues. We just sound bite everything to death. And if the topic we’re dealing with just happens to fall under the heading of something a special interest group, such as, I don’t know, maybe the NRA, has an interest in, then we double down on shutting down meaningful discussion.

There are no easy answers here, but what I will not tolerate is the admonishment that I’m not supposed to talk about gun control. We need to talk about it. We need to make sure that all of those innocents will have someone speak for them. They deserve from us at least that much.

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