Author: Pete Schloss

Cash or Credit?

Posted on by Pete Schloss

There has been much talk lately about society moving toward a cashless economy. Some European countries such as Sweden and Switzerland have very nearly accomplished this. Without meaning to, I have been contributing to this transition. With the advent of “rewards cards” I charge virtually every bill and purchase. The 2% cashback “reward” far exceeds the paltry interest that savings or checking accounts generate today. Of course, I always pay the monthly balance off in full, and I rarely carry more than $20 on my person.

I recently traveled to visit my Mother in Illinois. Shortly after my arrival I received an email notice of a very large unauthorized charge to my credit card. I called the card company and notified them of the potential fraud. The current card was immediately suspended, and I was assured that new cards were being rushed to me and would arrive in 3 days. The problem was that the cards would arrive in Kansas City and I was 480 miles away near Chicago.

I checked my wallet and true to form there was only one crisp $20 bill… enough to get me MOST of the way back home. Fortunately, I had a debit card that I never use buried in my wallet. I even had to call Christine to get the PIN. The first ATM I stopped at grabbed my card and would not let it go. The machine made a sickening chewing sound that I feared was the nether end of my card being consumed. After a few very anxious minutes the ATM displayed a message that it was out of cash. It then politely invited me to retrieve my card. I wasted no time and later found another ATM that was more accommodating to my needs.

Cash flush, I had the opportunity to consider the plight that could have been mine. I would have been forced to swallow my pride and beg a loan from my 92-year-old Mother. Horrid! The thought of a reprise of these events in the middle of our trip to Europe was even more terror inspiring. I called the credit card and applied for a second separate account. They were happy to oblige and thus the two “backup cards” are now on their way to us.

The lesson in all of this is that the abandonment of currency is not without its perils. Cash deserves more credit.

Peace Everyone. Pete

God By Any Name

Posted on by Pete Schloss

God, Gott, Dieu, Yhwh… and Allah.

God by any other name is still Creator. To borrow further from Shakespeare, “Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself,…”

According to Genesis mythology God created the heavens and the earth, light and dark, the plants and animals, and then humanity in God’s image and likeness. God toiled for 6 days and then “rested” the 7th day. Perhaps a more accurate description is that God either retired or took a sabbatical because from that point forward humanity took up the task of creating. We created nations, language, and religions… religions that define god in our image and likeness. In my country most call the Creator “God”. My German paternal grandparents named the Creator Gott, and my Lebanese/Syrian maternal grandparents (who were Christians) prayed to Allah. “Allah” is not a word unique to a theology, it is merely the Arabic word for God and the Arabic language predates Islam by centuries.

Humanity created all that divides us and in our division we imagine that the Creator takes sides in wars, politics, and sporting events. We created rituals that we imagine are necessary to communicate and entreat with the gods that we created. If God is universal, all powerful, and all-knowing then I doubt that God is confused by the names that we choose or the manner by which we address or invoke God. I doubt that God favors one archaic ritual over another, one nation over another, one political party over another, or one baseball team over another.

If there is a Universal Creator (a topic for another time), then I pray that God comes out of retirement and begins work on the 8th day to create peace, love, understanding and respect among those God created on the 6th day.

Peace Everyone. Pete

A Good Marriage

Posted on by Pete Schloss

Many have wondered how we can go “on the road” in a tiny camper for weeks on end. The answer is that my wife and I share a good marriage. She is a good person (however, I will not self-proclaim my own character). A good marriage is not dependent upon whether or not the partners are good people, but rather upon the people being good partners. In this I am doubly blessed to have married a good person who is a good partner. Each year on our anniversary (June 19th) we take our marriage off of the shelf, admire and polish it for the next year. It really doesn’t tarnish since we continually work on keeping it polished throughout the year.

We do not cast responsibility upon each other for our individual happiness, but we do find our relationship is a source of happiness. It is also a safe place where we find support in the other’s strengths and talents, refuge from our own weaknesses and shortcomings. Like I said, ours is a good marriage. Many people find that that they need solitude in order to examine their thoughts without distraction. With a good partner one can also better know one’s thoughts by dialogue, but only when there is absolute trust that the exchanges are free from criticism and judgment.

In our marital life, the depth of sharing can be challenged by the daily distractions of work, finances, current events, and all of those things that comprise the background noise of “real” life. I find that most days we are able to shrug off the burdens of such distractions.

After over 40 years we still find strength and support in our partnership. We love our life at home, and we love our life on the road. The commonality is that we love our life together. Have I said that I have a good Marriage?

Peace Everyone. Pete

Pain Beyond Words

Posted on by Pete Schloss

Once again, the media is saturated with the tragedy of children gunned down and parents wringing their hands in grief-stricken despair.
Most of us sit as observers of the unfolding drama. We are like those who sit ringside at a brutal cage-fight. We see the chaos unfolding within the cage, but we are safely separated from the real damage occurring within the enclosure. We see the emotions and the pain play out but remain insulated from anything more than a reflexive emotional flinch. When we walk away from the television our day remains undisturbed. The pain is theirs, not ours, and try as we might we cannot know the full depth of the loss… UNLESS, one has endured the suffering of having lost a child.

Some of you who are reading this have lost a child, and I apologize in advance for the inadequacy of what I am presenting. I have not lost a child, but I have been present at the passing of a grandchild and witnessed my child thus endure that loss.

There was another occasion when I found myself in a circumstance that gave me the smallest and briefest inkling of what a parent’s grief might feel like. Years ago, Christine and I were actors in a community theater presentation of “A Christmas Carol”. I was Bob Cratchit and Christine played my wife, Martha. We fell easily into our roles, to the point that the death of Tiny Tim became larger than life for us on stage. “Bob” had returned home from visiting “Tim’s” grave. On script, “Martha” observed, “Your walk seemed a bit longer than usual.” I understood her meaning and with a slight hesitation I replied, “Yes, I went to see him today.” In a real flood of emotion, I forced myself to continue. “It is such a lovely place, and as soon as I arrived I wished that you had been there with me.”
It was too much for me. No longer acting, my head bent toward the table and my hands extended flat on either side of a teapot. My fingers contracted and drew the tablecloth into my fists. The sugar and cream moved upon the table. Christine’s hand found my shoulder as she leaned over me with real concern. A tear drop fell from my eye, darkening the tablecloth as the second, third, and countless other tears, mine and hers, fell to the table. I became dimly aware of the sobs which now came from the “Cratchit children” who were gathered around us. I knew I was supposed to say something, but the words that I had practiced were lost. From the deepest pain in my soul I looked into my wife’s eyes and I cried off script, “I just miss my child… I miss him so much!”. She, and I and the children all found one another and embraced in sudden and unrehearsed anguish as the lights dimmed.

I stood from the table and gazed upon the tear-filled eyes of my “family” wondering at what had just occurred. When Christine and I left the table, we left behind the ghosts of Bob and Martha Cratchit. We left behind their pain.

Our intention that night had been to act out roles in a community theater presentation of “A Christmas Carol”. But for those few moments at the table, we were parents who mourned the loss of their child… parents who felt the pain of every other parent who has lost a child. For just a moment we had an insight into that unspeakable, searing, suffocating pain.

The loss of a child is a horror beyond the capacity of the English language to describe. There are words to identify other family losses… widow, widower, and orphan, but there is no single word for a parent who has lost a child.

Peace. Pete Schloss

Expectations and Disappointment, a Parable

Posted on by Pete Schloss

Before we left the States for Spain to walk the Camino in 2013, I had declared my expectation that I would walk each and every one of the 815 kilometers, my pack on my back. I have since come to learn that such expectations are an endurance hike, and not a pilgrimage. In my case, being forced off for a few days because of illness created both a disappointment and an opportunity for reflection. I have learned from the experience that there can be no disappoint if one sheds all expectations.

I have wondered how this might have played out 1,000 years ago in the early days of the Camino de Santiago Compostela:

Expectations and Disappointment, a Parable. 

Somewhere on the Camino, the year 1013, a weary and travel worn Perigrino surrenders the burro which he has ridden into town to a shopkeeper. The Pilgrim then slowly hobbles across the village square, entering the imposing granite church that is the axis of the community. Confessions are being heard. Our Perigrino, adorned in his tatters, enters the confessional booth, and begins to recite the prescribed formula:

Perigrino: Bless me Father, for I have sinned. It has been one day since my last confession (Confession was a lot more popular in the 11th Century) and these are my sins. I have had impure thoughts, and I have broken my vow to the Blessed Virgin and St. James.

Priest: The breaking of a vow is a serious matter; can you tell me more?

Perigrino: Father, I am a Pilgrim walking the Camino. I made a vow to Our Lady and St. James that I would walk the entire Journey assisted only by my own two feet. Earlier today I stumbled upon a rock and found that I was unable to continue. A farmer took pity upon me and gave me the use of a burro upon which I traveled this day. I have just surrendered it to the farmer’s brother, a shopkeeper on the square.

Priest: My son, your sin is not the breaking of a vow, but in possessing such arrogance as to presume to tell our Lord what your Camino should be. God in his infinite Knowledge and Mercy provided you with a burro to continue your journey, but your disappointment, fathered by your expectations, has no appreciation for God’s Grace…. A serious sin indeed.

Perigrino: For my sin I am heartily sorry Padre, and I willingly embrace your penance.

Priest: My son, for your penance you shall go to the river, and divesting yourself of your robes. You will bath and clean yourself of all expectations for your pilgrimage on the Camino.

Perigrino: Excuse me Padre, but is it not more common to just require that I recite 3 “Our Fathers” and 5 “Hail Marys”? Besides I have already bathed this year.

Priest: So my Perigrino! Do you now also impose your expectations upon the penances that I give?!? By the way, I almost forgot, what were the impure thoughts?

Perigrino: Uhm, well, I don’t really know. I have always given 2 sins, and since my parents are both dead I can no longer use “disobedience”.

Priest: I see. Well, for the impure thoughts you could have had you get your 3 “Our Fathers” and 5 “Hail Marys”… and after you bathe, wash your clothes and line your cod-piece with fresh herbs. I

think that your odor is delaying the Second Coming of Christ.

The Pilgrim was true to his word. He recited the prescribed prayers, bathed, and washed his clothes. Unfortunately, some habits die hard. As the Perigrino was searching for fresh herbs to line his cod-piece, he could be heard to declare, “I swear by the Blessed Mother and St. James that I will complete the rest of my pilgrimage without further interruption!” Soon thereafter the Pilgrim chose a three-leafed vine-like plant to line his cod-piece.

Peace Everyone, and a Buen Camino! Pete