With a capital The – Erich

“The” is a word which we often take for granted. We use it in many sentences and never even realize that we did so. It's just there to serve a function which is to indicate some noun.

But there are some uses of “the” in which it is no longer a minor piece of a noun puzzle. It is as powerful any mighty adjective. And when this occurs, it is usually one of two possible meanings.

First, there are some elements of society, geography, or nature that are so unique, so dominant, and so apparently set apart from all other elements of that sort, that they obtain a “the” which is to say “the one” or “the incomparable”. As an example, when I lived in New Jersey, people would often refer to “the city.” In every context in which this occurred, it was apparent to all exactly which city was indicated. Because New York City surpassed all others in size, cultural opportunities, diversity, and economics. Only one city could be “the city”, at least in that area. I'm not saying that NYC's “the-ness” is a global phenomenon. I would imagine that in France “le ville” indicates Paris far more than New York, in England “the city” would likely be London, and in Lichtenstein saying “the city” would just be pretentious.

Second, we can use “the” to indicate not one specific shining example, but something more widespread. It has great breadth, not height. It touches on many, many lives, but cannot be isolated. An example: “the man”. You have probably heard people say they must stand up to “the man” or earn their pay by working for “the man” or complain about being held back by “the man.”

Side story: Once, when my wife and I were going into “the city” as mentioned above with another couple, it was agreed that we should see a movie that was not made by “the man.” My friend suggested “The Man Who Wasn't There” because with that kind of title, how it could it fail to satisfy a prohibition on “the man?” But his wife declined that suggestion. We ended up seeing Amélie (which was a new movie then, so you get an idea of when this occurred) which I loved but my three companions all found unpalatable.

Back to my point. When we use “the” in this context, we aren't talking about one specific man, nor one exemplary man. We are talking about a pervasive and, in this case, nefarious element of society. Though nefariousness or nefariosity is not required. What is required is that broadness, that being present at multiple levels of existence.

I now wish to use “the” to fuse both of those meanings together at once. I want to talk about “the theater.”

“The theater” is normally a usage implying pervasiveness without specificity. It refers to an art form that is thousands of years old. It refers to a community of actors, writers, directors, technicians, designers, producers, crew, and generally innovative people who keep this ever dying art form alive. I am proud to be a part of “the theater” in several of those roles. It is a powerful form of communication that benefits from being live, from connecting audiences to words, actions, and stories.

But a few days ago, I, along with my family, went to “the theater.” And here, I mean “the theater” as one specific, overarching, incomparable, paragon to which all that comes after is trying to match theater. We visited “the theater” of Dionysus, or the Dionysia.

No longer are shows being produced here. It is not a bigger theater than all others, nor would I imagine its stone seats surpass other theaters in levels of comfort. (Though I have been in a few theaters in my time that convince me that these stone seats provide more comfort than some.) It doesn't have stage machinery to dazzle one's senses. It doesn't even have lights. But it is “the theater.”

Because here, in Athens, is where this infant art form thrived and blossomed at least through its toddler and school years. Comedy and tragedy came about as part of an annual tradition/competition called The Lenaia. This festival was a worship of Dionysus Lenaios, God of Wine. Though in its earliest days it probably took place in another location, by around 450 BCE already its performances had moved to The Dionysia.

Being there inspired awe. Western culture as we know it spawned in Athens. This place, this festival, this was primordial, and our television shows, movies, plays, ballets, operas, musicals, and popular songs are all children of The Lenaia.

While I sat, thinking that my butt might be on a marble slab that Aristophanes' butt once graced, I felt connected to a sweeping movement. We are so shaped by stories we hear. We are so influenced by art we consume. And we can trace so much of it back to this one place.

I don't want to overgeneralize. There are many stories from other cultures that did not come from the Dionysia. I do not mean to dismiss any of these either. But without “the theater,” that movement that began in this particular “the theater” I wonder what our society's art would look like today. It would be fun to write a story about such a world, but how could I do so without being influenced in my telling of it by Dionysus and story telling that spawned in his theater and that I have been fed all my life?

Though if I ever find a way to write that tale, I will be sure to write it as a play. Because this is a type of story that belongs in “the theater.”

Thousand Islands, but Not the Dressing

Today we (meaning my dad, Carver, and I) went for a walk to get out of the house for a while and so we went along the beach. Though you must understand, that it was not the usual shore we walked on, it was dry rocks or sand. There was not a large portion of the beach left, in fact it was much smaller than yesterday. The storm had arrived, but not the kind you would think of; it was a wind storm. Much like when we were on Muizenberg beach, the sand was pelting our legs. Occasionally we would meet a spot where sand was removed from the ground and water was flowing through, because the wind made the waves high, some might think it was high tide!

Before, when walking the beach, we could see a wall built out into water that blocked the waves. Between the wall and the shore were two boats tied down on the sand. Today we found that one of the two boats was tied at the shore and the wall. You are probably curious “boats, who cares.” Well, now these boats were in or very close to being in water. We watched and saw the one tied to each end was rocking as the powerful waves crashed over the walls.

Also while walking we heard that as the waves retreated it pulled the rocks back. If you can, try to imagine the sound as they rolled past the ones firmly planted. The edges of the waves that are usually green, were black. The sea, which some times is ever so flat, was rough with the wind. Today it was like a new sea.

Yesterday Carver and I enjoyed making a paste from crushed rocks at the beach. Today the saved paste was washed away with the waves.

The beach was soon at an end. Ahead we saw stairs. We took them to a new level though still along the beach. It was a new perspective. We saw a cove filled with water to an extent that, I would guess, was unusual. We passed and then rose once more to a rocky level. We walked along and found a high platform where the waves were so strong they were soaking the edges.

Another discovery was a tunnel that was intentionally filled. Soon we headed back. We turned into a church lot on the way home.

We were soon home with storm blown hair.

The Trouble with Alpha – Erich

The Greeks, of course, use the Greek Alphabet. Though English is widely spoken and the Latin Alphabet (the one we use) is also frequently seen. And that can lead to the problem of transliteration.

Take for example, alpha. Alpha is the first letter of the Greek Alphabet (as is evidenced by the word “alphabet” a short version of the first two letters in Greek, alpha and beta.) Now in Greek, if one were writing out the word “alpha” one would write αλφα or in capital letters ΑΛΦΑ.

That third letter, φ or Φ is what we call “phi”. So when you transliterate Greek words that have a phi in them, which sounds like an f, do you use “ph” or do you use “f”? The answer is, it isn't so simple.

Here is a logo from Alfa foods, a brand you see in the grocery store that makes frozen and canned goods. They have chosen to transliterate with the “f”. But one of the big financial institutions one sees around Athens is Alpha Bank. Here is their logo. As you can see, they went with the “ph”.

Sometimes, the trouble isn't the word or the pronunciation, just how does it transliterate from one place to another?

That brings me to a more serious topic than the alphabet: health care. (If you prefer to make that one word, healthcare, please go right ahead. At my last job at PA College of Health Sciences we had brand standards, because how can you possibly teach algebra without them, right? And one of our brand standards specified that health care had to be two words. Except for the exceptions, but we won't get into those.)

Carver was not seeing as well. It was time to look into a new prescription for his glasses. So we went to an ophthalmologist. (There is another example of choosing the “ph” as here the ophthalmologist is called the οφθαλμιατρος.)

As we all know in this season of presidential politics, the European Union has an extensive system of health care in which every citizen is covered. We are not citizens of any EU nation, and so we had to pay full price. And that was thirty euros. Or about thirty-three dollars.

That was a trip to the doctor, drops to dilate the pupils, all the tests, and a prescription written for thirty-three dollars. It would have cost me a lot more in the U.S.A.

Alrica has to have periodic scans as a follow up to the cancer that was removed in July. In South Africa, she had two x-rays and that cost $90. In France, she had to have an x-ray and a CT scan, which is much more expensive. Plus, France is one of the pricier European nations. And that cost us about $220. This would have been well over a thousand, maybe two-thousand, in the states.

This is how it relates to the alpha problem. Saying we should have a system of national healthcare (throwing branding standards to the wind) similar to that in the European Union is a great idea. I believe it is something that a society should provide to keep that society strong. But I don't think that we can just transliterate the EU system into our own country. Why? Because our costs are out of control.

The first thing we have to do is figure out why every procedure costs more in the US than anywhere else in the world. Not just a little bit more. We're talking an order of magnitude more in some cases. Who is getting all of this money?

Once we find the source of the price gouging, then we need to make changes that allow our prices to become realistic. If Alrica can get a CT scan and x-ray in France for $220, it's the same equipment in the USA. The doctors require the same amount of training. There must be a way to get the costs of healthcare down to levels comparable to other countries. That is something that all parties, whether they like national healthcare or call it “socialism” must do.

After costs have been reined in, then we can more seriously discuss how to insure our population. Let's do this now. Let's make this part of the national conversation.

It's time for the United States to find a way to have affordable care that is still at the alpha level. Or alfa level. Either would be fine with me.

Sorting Shoes – Erich

I love shoes. That may sound weird in several ways. I mean, who really cares one way or the other about shoes? Especially when you are a man who writes and performs in sock puppet shows. You would think that you would only have room in your heart for one type of footwear.

So let me explain. I prefer to wear shoes, pretty much all day. I like to wear my shoes in the house, in the yard, and certainly when going out. You see I have flat feet. Not just any flat feet, I have exceptionally flat feet. My arches are nearly non-existent. So walking around without shoes for too long means I have really sore feet. Hence, my vast appreciation for shoes. At least for my shoes. On my feet.

But today I got a chance to admire shoes, many, many shoes, in another light. And while it has left my feeling for shoes unchanged, it has opened my eyes to what the shoes represent.

We are in Greece, staying outside of Athens. As many people know, Greece has accepted more Syrian refugees than any other nation in Europe. At first, the refugees came to Greece, passed through, and continued on to other nations that announced that they would accept them. But one by one, those other nations have closed their borders. And still, thousands of people arrive in Greece.

Greece has not shut them out. I imagine it would be difficult to do even if they wanted to, with so much coastline. But Greece doesn't even want to shut them out. The Greek people feel it is right to help them. Good for you, Greece.

What does this have to do with shoes, Erich? I'm getting there.

There are many shelters in Greece housing the Syrian refugees. Some are near the borders with other nations. Some are near Athens. One is at an old Olympic football stadium. And next to that is an old Olympic basketball stadium. And that's where I sorted shoes.

This basketball stadium has become a drop off point for donations to help the refugees. And again, to praise the Greeks, they wholeheartedly are trying to help. Boxes and bags of clothing and other goods are dropped off everyday. What's more, entire truckloads from other nations arrive at this stadium and get unloaded and left.

But there is almost no one there to handle all these goods coming in. And so, they depend on volunteers. They need people, no experience necessary, to come and help with the sorting of items, boxing them up, and even just discovering what is in some of the boxes.

Today, our family headed to that stadium. Alrica sorted scarves and socks and t-shirts. But Carver and I (and later Syarra too) headed to the back of the stadium and sorted shoes.

There are piles and piles of donated shoes. Some of them, but very few, are in terrible condition and must just be thrown away. But most are in fine condition to be given to refugees. However, they are in a jumble. One has to pick through the shoes, find their pairs, and then sort them and box them up.

We sorted shoes by size (the European sizes) and by men's shoes vs. women's shoes. When a box of a particular size and gender was full, it had to be taped up, labeled, and stacked. And then a new box went into that place and the fun began again.

You can't effectively distribute items if you can't find the right size of the right item at the right time. And that is what they need help in doing. Sorting items so that they can be given out.

It was a good day. We were happy to help and the staff and volunteers who have been there for weeks now were lovely to us.

If anyone wants to help the Syrian refugees in Greece, don't send more clothing or toiletries. The best donations are food or money. If you are in Greece and have time to give, that too is desperately needed. And you don't need to come in with any skills. Even if you couldn't read numbers, you could still help to find the pairs among the shoes.

I hope that the work we did today will help some people in the shelters in Greece. Because if I were in their situation, if I were facing desperation and stuck in what seemed like a dead end for I don't know how long, I would be stressed, miserable, and at times, angry. But I know one thing. I would feel even worse without a good pair of shoes.