Dialogues on Hazed and Confused: Lost in the Woods

Attribution: elisfkc from Orlando, FL, United States, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Featuring the Fabulous Dadbots: Dave S., Mark O., Mark M., Dennis C., Paul C., and Geoff Carter

Several stories caught my eye lately. Here’s a sampling:

BBC: What happened to the fabulous dadbots? Chief politico on cycling sabbatical? Aging/tiring? Summer?
Gail Collins today on this zany potential 3^rd party scheme of Manchin and Huntsman (an R, former Utah Governor—both “sane centrists”), they call selves “No Labels”. I’ve grown tired of Gail’s all too frequent regression/reliance on adolescent quips over the years, but found this one good. Informative to me…did not know Manchin is 75…did not know Lieberman had some serious gaffes (he’s part of the No Labels conversation)—at least from Gail’s point of view. Also, the letter’s section produced a galvanizing onslaught of “time to get behind Uncle Joe’s rallying cries. Surprised to see Gail personally respond to a handful of reader comments—never seen that and given my dadbot chops, I’m a respected commentator–(I think…maybe…dunno for sure…)
Quickly: As you may recall, I’ve been bummed by the steps back in terms of bullying consciousness produced by agent orange. Ground being taken back, coming from, all places the SEC and college football. Hazing, an umbrella term, ranging from calling a male a sissy to killing one or two, is back in the news out of the leafy Evanston campus of Northwestern. Head coach Pat Fitzgerald is gone (and may be sued) and the floodgates are open. Better yet, we apparently have student newspaper journalists to thank for this.
Moving forward: So, the Georgia Bulldogs have supplanted Alabama as the force in college football these days—fyi…I don’t follow it unless the Badgers are in the Rose Bowl—(but I’m very down on Bucky of late…more below). This as I read that Bulldogs coach, Kirby Smart, was a victim of hazing in his days—shaved head, but traumatic (which I get…context not shared I’m guessing) and he vowed never to subject any of his players to it a long time ago. This is how the mores of a culture change. Tiny cogs, individual people. Kirby didn’t make national news when he merely chose not to allow felonies years ago, but he’s quoted this am now that the felonies have been daylit by some 20-somethings at their keyboards in Evanston. A prominent cog shifts the needle of a culture, say I.
Re Bucky: Screw it, screw football. It’s too violent and worse yet it is so media powerful not to mention thrilling and beautiful at times—such that it quickly arrests development—of adults. Too much of an obsession—I’m as prone to it as anyone. We still get the hardcopy State Journal daily. Badger football is constant there—even during the off season. First was, and still is, all the hype over the new coach, then the recruiting—in depth analysis of kids still in high school and now an invented series naming the best Badgers of all times, for each number. Huh?…the best 7, the best 83…. F! Get a life! They even break it down twixt all time vs the last 15 years so that both demographics, old and young stayed latched. Depressing. How ‘bout the local all city swim meet? Real people…aerobic healthy sport…hopes and dreams….water…summer….great photos. Wait, what’s this Tour de France thing? Seems like I hear about it every few years….must be part of the Olympics…
And just to finish on a complete downer, good awareness article in the times by Nikolas Kristof on the child sex trade ‘business’. Sickening.
Check that, finishing on an upbeat: Our 4 time (ahem most) World Cup Champion women’s soccer team—finally getting something of a wage–face Vietnam—TONIGHT—from down under. NZ and Oz are co-hosting this years cup. US is initially in NZ—Eden Stadium in Auckland, (Adam and Eve in the loge seats). Vietnam is in due to an expanded field—another positive for the sport, the world. My fave is Rose Lavalle, ex-Badger from Cinncy, lithe, nimble and strong left foot, dazzling in the open pitch. How many ‘bots know of our phenom 21 yr. old striker (aka forward), Trinity Rodman? Yes, her dad is Dennis, apparently an absentee father. (I’ll be impressed if more than Mark O. are up on this.)
Vietnam:

Have a relative that served, now 77, served, (cooked 1000s of loaves of bread every am…learned guitar–Wipe Out–picked up smoking…one night, after heavy drinking he woke up and found shrapnel embedded in a nearby power pole—his only bristle with combat.
The other day, the Economist had a story stating how awesome the Vietnam school system is and why.
So tonight, I’ll watch—if I can figure out the streaming bit–US vs Vietnam in a conflict 180 degrees from the 60s in more ways than just gender. Will our bigger, stronger gals prevail over the little lasses of the jungle? (sorry, couldn’t resist).

Hope you’re all doing well, getting outdoors half as much as Mamerow and keeping sunscreen on your noses.

-Dave.

Way to kickstart the Dadbot machine Dave. It’s been too long.

Yes, I intend to watch tonight’s WWC match against Vietnam, although I don’t expect it to be much of a match and I dread any stupid jingoistic commentary insinuating revenge on the Vietnamese for our disastrous fiasco in their country 50+ years ago. I didn’t know the Rodman family connection. I think Dennis is going to be called out of diplomatic retirement to visit the PRNK and arrange the extradition of that wayward US soldier.

The hazing stories are sad. I guess I’m a little surprised that sort of thing still goes on. I have a bit of a trad dad take on it. I believe you can only be hazed if you agree to be hazed. You can just say no. Some do say no. I understand the whole peer pressure thing and that it takes courage and moral certitude to assert yourself, but isn’t that what prestigious institutions like Northwestern pride themselves on instilling in young men and women? I just read an article on a female Finnish artist who was invited to a toney Q&A session with art world big shots somewhere in Europe. The female artists were subjected to a stage makeup ordeal before the event. She appeared on stage with no makeup and a fellow artist asked how she managed to evade the humiliating treatment. Her reply? “I said No”.

MarkO

Hello bots,

It’s good to hear from everyone. As usual, Dave, you serve too big of a meal; I don’t know where to start. I did watch the US -v- Vietnam WWC match last night and was impressed—no, awed—by the US team. While they did score three goals, I would say (as a layman, not a soccer aficionado (call me Ted)), that the US missed at least four solid chances in the second half.They looked bigger, mostly faster, and very well-coached.

You know, Mark, I’m not really surprised hazing still goes on, and for those who have the strength to say no—or to escape the situation—more power to them, but in my years as a teacher, I saw so many instances of shameless bullying, social ostracism, and downright meanness that this side of human nature just doesn’t surprise me. I suppose some coaches might still believe that condoning this sort of thing enhances team camaraderie, but it is barbaric.

Badgers? I don’t know. I did have the pleasure this last year of working with a new teacher at an MPS high school, Otho Ball, better known during his playing days as Ray Ball, right guard for the Badgers. I don’t think you could meet a nicer, more patient, and reasonable guy than Mr. Ball, though I guess he was a demon on the field. He has a great rapport with the kids as a teacher and as a coach and attributes these skills to his days in Madison, so I guess there are some positives coming out of the NCAA. I’m starting to agree however, that football has become an overinflated media event. I really don’t care who Aaron Rodgers is boning or what kind of weird spiritual shit he might be getting into. You’re right though, Dave. At times, football can be a beautiful game.

Later gators,

Geoff

I guess I’ll pick up the “ball” here. Sorry, couldn’t resist.

I certainly didn’t intend to suggest that meanness and bullying had been eliminated from humanity. Far from it. But hazing is a particular practice with a specific social goal, to cement identification of individuals with a particular club, cult, subculture, etc. I thought that might be a waning practice but that was probably naive. I’ve never been much of a “joiner”, so I suppose I don’t get the peculiar appeal of these rituals. Maybe another dadbot can enlighten me on this.

That said, I don’t think campus hazing rises to the level of murder or genocide in the hierarchy of evil. Hell, I don’t know if it rises to the level of football in that hierarchy. I’m not aware of any permanent brain damage resulting from hazing incidents, as opposed to hundreds if not thousands of young men incurring it via the practice of football. I suppose that these young men volunteer for this barbaric activity (pick one), so it’s probably OK. I can wave my moralistic finger at hazing because I don’t derive any personal entertainment value from that practice, as opposed to football, which I do (if the team’s any good).

There is the humiliation element of hazing, which differs from football (unless you play for say, Indiana or Vanderbilt). I’m not a psychologist, but I’m certain a lot of the humiliation felt comes from reflection on the practice long after the fact. This humiliation or embarrassment would apply to victims and perpetrators alike. I feel deep remorse for actions I took or didn’t take throughout my life that didn’t rise to the level of courage or principles that I should have. That remorse never goes away and sometimes gets stronger with age. Would I have like for some powerful institution to have eliminated every situation in my life that presented moral dilemmas? Perhaps. Do I worry about what such an all-powerful big brother institution would be capable of in stripping people of their agency and ability to live a full, free life? Definitely.

I don’t know all the details of the Northwestern case but I’m certain of one thing, coach Fitzgerald would never condone such practices. In fact, you can be sure that he is shocked, SHOCKED, that such things were occurring within his program.

MarkO

Yeah Dave,

Nice job waking us up from our dadbot summer naps while Mark pedals through the Rockies.

But “Screw Football” you say? What flavor of woke-ass commie deep-state kool-aid are they vaxin’ you up with now in Lib-tard-ville Madison?

Kidding… I have to admit, my enthusiasm for football has been waning for a couple years now. Perhaps because of my genetic and cultural programming, I can’t help but be a Packer fan. I revel in a good football game, but yeah, I’m starting to agree with Dave, it is “too violent, too media powerful”. It’s too prone to macho posturing and bullying; It’s the cause of too many injuries, especially long term brain damage.

I think a lot of other people are seeing this too, most significantly, the parents of future potential players. As they funnel their kids into safer sports, high school football programs will die out, colleges will soon follow suit, and the NFL will find its pool of talent has leaked over to USA soccer — or maybe the new sports craze — USA pickleball.

But while I predict the slow death of American Football, I’m afraid the media machine that hypes it will simply apply its nefarious skills to whatever new sport emerges to replace it. Jesus, sports TV is everywhere.

Here’s some anecdotal evidence:

My son Jack was visiting me in Costa Rica. He and I took a short hike through the jungle near Nosara one day and, though I thought I knew the way, we got a little lost. Before we knew it, the sun was setting — and the dark night descended quickly, as it does in the tropics.

As we picked our way down the narrow jungle path, our nerves were getting a bit frayed. We couldn’t see shit, but we could hear creepy rustling sounds in the dense undergrowth and could hear howler monkeys hooting and growling in the trees as they marked their turf. I pretended a confidence I did not feel.

“The snakes around here aren’t poisonous and the jaguars are more afraid of humans than we are of them,” I babbled, along with other tidbits of jungle lore that I had gleaned from old Tarzan movies.

After what seemed like hours (though it was probably like 30 minutes in real time), we spotted a light in the distance. We slowly approached this mysterious light, not knowing what we would find.

“Should be ok. The locals are mostly friendly these days,” I said. “Cannibalism is rarely practiced around here anymore”.

As we came closer to the light we saw a square building and could hear a jumble of voices and music and shouting.

“Must be a ritual gathering,” I whispered. .

We approached cautiously. Despite my objections, Jack slowly opened the door,

He laughed. “I think it’s safe to go inside, Dad,” he said.

I carefully followed him into the strange square building. The cacophony of music and shouting soon made some kind of sense. Wha..? Aha. We had come through the back door of a frickin’ sports bar in the middle of the jungle. (Okay, turned out it was on the outskirts of a little town, but we didn’t know that.). Anyway, it was a jarring shift for us–like landing on the Moon and finding a McDonalds. Countless giant screen TV’s lined the walls. Soccer, baseball, golf, basketball, tennis, American football, cycling, motocross. Games, replays of games, player interviews, endless analysis. The flashing logos and quickly changing images seared my retinas, and the bombastic music and shouting announcers made me woozy.

“Wowww, it’s everywhere,” Jack said, looking around in wonder.

Great tale on many levels Dennis, humility not the least of ‘em.

…reminds me of how happy I was to destroy a Coca Cola after an extra 5 days hiking—13–not the 8 planned, not the 8 which we had enough food for—in NZ. Lost creates panic…and well, there is no shortage of people plain and famous that leave the world while hiking—they just found the remains of a famous British actor near Mt. Baldy, (near LA), hiking solo last fall….—(I recently biked up there).

My coke tale: …was with a mate and in a very safe place (NZ)—so not the fear factor you had—plus the weight of responsibility, being with your son. And the year was 1987 so I had youth on my side. In NZ, besides sheep they have parrots, nimble parrots, parrots that can open windows, steal food…but parrots for Christ’s sake. I learned there’s a tricky thing about crossing a river (which one must do regularly in certain parts—to follow the path of least resistance. Some of these rivers were football fields wide—they call them “burns”—see below. The tricky thing is—embarrassed to admit this, when one finally gets across you need to remember which way you were headed. You’d think the flow of the river would be obvious but with so many confluences and the bloody burns…I dunno…we weren’t high…

The other nice thing ‘bout your tale was what you did with your son…took a ride on the life roller coaster as opposed to yet another blaze café. -Dave.

In local usage, a burn is a kind of watercourse. The term applies to a large stream or a small river. The word is used in Scotland and England (especially North East England) and in parts of Ulster, Australia and New Zealand.

–Dave

Wow Dave, Lost and wandering in the New Zealand outback for days? Now that’s some seriously scary life and death kinda shit. I think I’d be crapping my NorthFace Pro-Tec hiking shorts if I had anything left to crap after starving for a few days. I’d be eyeing up those ubiquitous parrots and wondering how they tasted. That’s like a Jon Krakouer-worthy tale as opposed to the more surreal than scary little adventure where Jack and I had a nervous half-hour in the dark jungle before falling like Alice-in-Wonderland into an American-style sports bar.

–Dennis

….sorry if I embellished it….we were in 5 days longer than planned, but we had a flexible schedule….always thought we might stretch it….and we technically weren’t lost but we’re getting nervous…. We caught trout in an idyllic spot where humans seldom venture. Caught a dozen in like 20 minutes, started throwing them back….pretty soon we had a dozen dead beautiful (and big) NZ trout belly up around our boat—yes someone had not one, but 2 canoes stashed deep in the bush, so our fishing trip was over before we knew it. Felt like your typical over-consuming American looking at the massacre behind us…. in such a pristine place. My hiking mate decided we should smoke these fish—I thought it folly at the time—but days later when we would’ve run out of food we had the smoked fish—which got 5 stars.

NZ has an elaborate hut system—technically one need not carry a tent. The huts are about 3-6 hours apart. On the more common “tramps”, they are very nice—like cabins in our North country…and you meet people from all over the world. Highly recommended. But here we were on our own, navigating by these overhead photographs (not to be confused as having the accuracy of a map)—had this chimerical idea climbing a pass with the final bit being up a steep but small snow field (it was summer) and descending down to this secluded hut in a bay on one of their many fjords, (more than Norway sayeth the lonely planet guide book). But alas even (2) novices such as us knew a bridge too far when we saw it, so we turned back after realizing the snow field was steep, perhaps crevasse laden and we could easily slide to our death. We tried tent poles as “stakes” for about 50 yards. We did come upon some chicken wire (mesh) and created a pouch for the fish and just let them sit high above the flames on our campfire. For a long time. Secret to good smoke is slow and sub 200F, ay. And smoked fish keeps pretty well—salty jerky.

…was not familiar with Krakauer—(tho I have heard of his books). Here’s one I hadn’t heard of, but timely given MM’s recent cycling stopover.

–Dave

If you react to “Missoula “ as I did, it will

Make your blood BOIL. It’s the story of cops & DA botching rape investigations (of star U football players) because the simply DON’T CARE.

–Mark M.

Oh man, Krakauer’s “Missoula” brings the thread full circle back to the dark side of organized football. Kind of a serendipitous choice by Dave in that sense. (Your NZ saga triggered my brain toward comparisons of Krakauer’s more human vs. elements of nature books like “Into the Wild” and “Into Thin Air”)

–Dennis C.

Sorry, I’m late on this, but Dennis’s story kind of reminded me of a chapter in Philip Roth’s The Great American Novel (which I think we all know well), a satirical take on baseball in which a group of missionaries sent baseball equipment to a “primitive” tribe in an effort to civilize them but were instead appalled to discover that the indigenous were using the bats in fertility rituals and—if memory serves—boiling and eating the gloves.

So, in the wilds of Costa Rica, ubiquitous wide-screen sports broadcasts seems to have precipitated a Dionyisian oriastic sort of anarchy. Ah, America. Sports is the new smallpox. Could Krakauer follow evidence of Green Bay Packers souvenir memorabilia into the wilds of the Brazilian rain forest—or the South side of Chicago.

(Note: Since this dadbot post began, the USWNT went on a very disappointing run which culminated in them finally being eliminated by Sweden.)