TAKING A SECONDLOOK, ON SEPT 1

WHY SOME OF US CAN'T REACH OZ

There is a new book out on a very old subject -- the power of imagination in our lives. "The Real Wizard: Life & Times of L. Frank Baum." But it is not a book for everyone...!

I'm thinking here of the parents who feel the Oz stories "are for kids." Or the scholars who believe Baum's plot-lines "are social messages." Or the psychiatrists who suggest the characters "are subconscious metaphors for pathology."

The problem with such properly adult considerations is they are properly adult. The land of Oz is one more in that happy litany of literature whose authors invite the reader into the secret gardens of their heart. Without any pre-conditions. Those who are able to enter it are gifted with a journey not to be found on any map. Or in any monograph. It is simply there for anyone who can believe it with their whole heart.

But hearts are a funny thing, as the TinMan learned. A child's heart is usually big and bountiful, open and willing. Which is why lands like Oz are so instantly familiar to them. An adult's heart usually carries the burden of a head. A well developed head of facts and figures and realities that have not yet occured to a child. Rather than a boon, these can be a burden. A burden to the imagination, thereby making journeys like these more problematic for grown-ups.

St Paul wisely says, "When I became an adult I put away the things of a child." If ever I get the chance, I'd like to ask the great saint, "But can't I keep just a few of them...?" I am persuaded there is an invincible distinction between being childish and remaining child-like. I find my proof every Christmas-time when grown-ups envy -- at least cherish -- the lost imagination of their childhood.

Be it the Christmas story, the Oz story, or the fables of Aesop and the Brothers Grimm, even evolution's laws of survivability must surely make room for the soaring flights of childhood imagination some of us carry to our grave. While serpents crawl, eagles fly; and if given the choice, some of us will always choose flight....

ON THE STRANGE WISH FOR ANOTHER WATERLOO

While the opposition circle the White House from every shooting angle on every issue, they now have the one they've been waiting for the most. Afghanistan....!

Some see health-care as the "president's Waterloo." However, others consider the impassable mountains of Afghanistan as the real Waterloo. Just as Johnson's domestic agenda was overwhelmed by "his war" in Vietnam, there are those who wish the same for this president's war in Afghanistan where invading armies have always been thwarted throughout history.

The strange thing about wishing the guy at the raft's rudder will shoot himself in the foot is that the same shot can help sink the raft we're all in. But then the rules of logic and reason that work in the world don't apply in Washington. And so it is we look across the world and wonder whether we should up the ante, or declare victory and get the hell out of there?

No pat answer to this question. However, there is an answer to the companion question: "Who's fighting this war?"

It's the same young men and women who fight all our wars. Their profile tends to include large numbers from the South and West...many from small towns and farms....frequently gifted with their hands and their instincts...often fired with a sense of patriotism and love of country.... rarely from the families of the rich and famous.

It has always been said that the old men send the young men to fight their wars. It is also said that the generals are always fighting the last war. Both adages carry the weight of history on their side. But how exactly does all this help the White House decide what's next...?

There is at least one guarantee here. Whatever is decided, half the nation will disagree. Flip the decision, and the other half will disagree. The only thing we might agree on is the courage of those dogged few up on the lines. They're fighting with enemies there to make it possible for us to keep fighting with ourselves back here.

Isn't it great to be human...?