These words sound like an oxymoron. How can you give what you did not receive?

To understand, we need to look back into our formative years.

Our parents got some things right, but they also got some things wrong. There were gaps in our parenting, maybe some gaping holes. Maybe we had parts of our formative years where we had to self-parent or figure things out for ourselves. 

From what I can piece together, my mom was the least-favored child by her mom and the youngest of three. Ironically, Dad was the most favored by his parents and youngest of five. Mom could be wonderfully tender or fiercely jealous and protective. Dad was wrapped up in his own world and rarely made any attempt to meet me in mine, yet he had a love of order and doing things right, which I also appreciate. My parents’ formative years affected mine. They always do.

There were things they did not get from their parents and things I did not get from them. I missed out on some unconditional love, so I learned to be a “good boy”. I also missed out on a lot of appropriate socialization, so I became introverted and insecure.

I have a little saying, “You don’t begin to know how messed up you are until you’re forty.” We grow up thinking our life was normal. Usually there is a part that was not normal or even healthy, but it can take a good while for that to sink in.

We all could make a list of things we did not receive from our parents, our teachers, and others who should have mentored us.

So what? We could think, “I didn’t get (fill in the blank) and I turned out “okay”.  So, we continue the pattern of our parents.

The easiest thing in the world is to repeat our parents’ errors and deficiencies. It comes naturally. We tell ourselves, “I will never (fill in the blank again)”. But these things are sneaky and we often do the same darn thing in a way that superficially looks different, but really is the same trait. We became like our parents!

My adult children could tell some stories about how I insisted their behavior was upstanding in every way. After all, I was a pastor. There were expectations, and those expectations may have been more stressed than love and acceptance. I wanted them to be “a good boy and a good girl”. Their good behavior reflected positively on me.

As a pastor, I was obsessed with my work. It was just different work than my dad’s. I was totally in my world with little time for family.

These are the things I did not get and did not give. They hurt me. They hurt my kids, my wife, and others. Since I was hurt by them so deeply, why would I inflict them on others, especially those I love the most? Why not give them the opposite of what I got, give them what we did not get?

Where my imposed expectations overshowed my unconditional love and acceptance, why not change the balance. There is no trait more noble, more nurturing than love and acceptance. Where the importance of work overshadowed the importance of family, why not flip it. It is not going to mean much if you sacrifice your family for your job.

This is a lesson for me. Maybe you need to hear it too.

Give what you did not receive.

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I am a southerner at heart. Maybe, even a beach bum. Though we have spent most of our lives in northwestern Missouri, central Illinois, and especially northeastern Illinois, near Lake Michigan on the Wisconsin state line, we love the south and have visited many times. Now we live here. Don’t worry we are not part of the wave of marauding tribes from the north trying to re-make Tennessee in the image of our former locale of low temps, high taxes, and wonky ways.

What’s not to like about the south? This is our kind of food. These are our kind of people, unhurried and refreshingly congenial. We even find the accent charming. We re-located here in May and were developing a strong bond, until January. Then our new friend turned on us with the menacing ways of something called January.

We were lavishing in the relatively mild weather of November and December, but come January, we felt betrayed. We were accepting of the cold nights and days warming up into the forties. But January went a step too far when we saw some teens and single digits, coupled with four or five inches of snow that overstayed its welcome. It was uninvited and unwanted, reminding us too much of what we moved from.

Winter and I have a history. We have a deep-seated disdain for each other. It seems like winter tries to get on my nerves; and it succeeds. I used to think SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) was something made up by psychiatrists for wimps, until I became aware of how winter tried to bring me down. 

Its short days make me feel unproductive. Its uncomfortable nature causes me to feel like I am under house arrest. Its limiting factors make me feel bored and I want to eat southern comfort food and snacks, loading up on carbs.

I hope for my sake (and everyone’s sake) this winter has been unusual because you are not prepared for it. Back in northeastern Illinois, there was an unofficial neighborhood contest to see who could snow blow their driveway first. You would hear the chorus of gas engines before dawn. The snowplows were out at first flake dumping massive quantities of salt on every highway and street. It took a major blizzard to affect people’s lives and schedules. I am talking feet of snow and huge drifts. Even then the inconvenience was short-lived. 

Here, in my neighborhood, we saw hardly a ripple in the snow for a couple of days. Traveling on any road other than a couple of highways was treacherous, so everyone just stayed home. I hate that feeling. Up north people get out just to defy the snow.

My backup plan is Florida. Our spring vacation to a little-known barrier island on the gulf coast of southwestern Florida is my mental happy place. It will be a few days of sun, sand, and surf with lots of walks on the beach. 

When we return home, it will be hot and humid here. That will give us something new to complain about.

The post Southern Snow appeared first on Glenn Hager.

Keeping our lives balanced is a bit like standing on one foot (which requires balance of a different kind). It’s hard to do for very long. Life throws things at us that draw our attention away from the safeguards and healthy habits that we build into our lives. 

When things get out of balance, we lose perspective and feel overwhelmed or underwhelmed, depressed or anxious.

I am driven by responsibility. In other words, I am obsessive. So, I have to remind myself daily of what it takes for me to stay on an even kneel.

Three words remind me of the of the kinds of activities I need to stay mentally, emotionally, and spiritually healthy.

Those three words?

Create. Relate. Recreate. 

They are my daily mantra and the things that feed my soul by keeping me calm, purposeful, loving, peaceful, and refreshed.

Create. I get great joy from writing and lighting design. You can check out the lighting design at doo-dads.com. Writing something that gives words to my thoughts and is clarifying for myself and, hopefully, others is incredibly rewarding.

Relate. Many of my activities are solitary. So, I have to remind myself to break out of the bubble and engage with people, whether it is a neighbor, a service provider, or checker at Walmart. Something about this lightens my day. 

When we are inwardly healthy, we tend to be outwardly healthy too. In other words when we take care of ourselves, we are nicer people. An when we are nicer people, it is personally rewarding.

Recreate. There is great value in goofing off. It clears out the cache of preoccupying thoughts and worries like a mental reboot. It might be taking time for a hobby that we enjoy, getting out in nature, physical exercise, visiting a friend, or anything where we are totally present in the moment.

We cannot be helpful to other people if we don’t take care of ourselves.

Years ago, I was listening to radio program about happiness. As it got to the very end the host asked the guest for one last quick bit of advice. Here is what he said:

Read a book.

Take a walk.

Call a friend.

It really is the same mantra.

Staying inwardly happy and healthy is the best thing we can do for ourselves and others. Honestly, we will probably need to remind ourselves of this countless times throughout our lives.

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Two very strange things happened in the last few days. A Democratic Socialist was sworn in as mayor of New York City and the United States invaded another sovereign nation capturing its leader to face justice in the U.S. These are unusual events to say the least and they are representative of two ways of governing that have a very long history of opposition in our country. 

One is socialism, a system where the government owns or controls the major resources and industries, aiming to distribute wealth and opportunities more equally. The goal is to ensure everyone’s basic needs (like healthcare, education) are met by government programs, rather than private individuals and companies that profit from them. It’s about collective well-being and cooperation, contrasted with capitalism’s focus on private ownership and free markets, though many modern systems blend elements of both systems. 

We are a capitalist country which enables a few people to do extremely well, many people to get by pretty well, and some folks to really struggle. Our personal prosperity is controlled by the markets and other economic factors along with individual effort and good (or not so good) fortune. Our goods and services come mostly from the private marketplace, though we also have some quasi-socialist programs like Social Security and Medicare.

Capitalism champions personal freedom and individual effort. Socialism upholds the common good and the ability of the government to oversee it. The capitalist one-liner about socialism is. “Socialism doesn’t work because eventually you run out of other people’s money.” 

Several European nations have massive socialist programs providing things like childcare and higher education for “free,” but they have a much higher tax rate. The population in these countries are some of the happiest people in the world because they don’t have to worry about affording these things, like we do. Yet, communist countries also deploy socialism with a much less desirable result.

The new mayor of New York has promised several free services Americans find necessary for daily life. We’ll see how that goes. It sounds great, but it will be extremely expensive. Where will the money come from?

_____________________________________________________________________________

On January 3^rd in the wee hours of the morning the lights went out in Caracos, the Venezuelan capital of 300,000. Military bases and air defenses were bombed by over 150 U.S. aircraft. Then the helicopters came in flying under the radar. Members of the US Army’s Delta Force quickly found Maduro and his wife and extracted them. Dozens of Venezuelans were killed, along with 32 Cuban citizens who were part of Maduro’s security detail.

Maduro was indeed a narco-terrorist and allied with Russia, China, Cuba, Iran, and Hezbollah, selling them oil from the world’s largest reserve. Even though resource rich, mismanagement and corruption led to the collapse of the Venezuelan economy causing eight million people to leave the country, many winding up in the US.

Maduro was a bad guy. But regime change has never worked very well for us. Remember Iraq and Afghanistan. While the military pulled off a flawless feat and there is a feeling it was good thing to bring this corrupt dictator to justice, we are left with an important question. 

Was it legal? 

It was not. It was a violation of international law. There was no security council approval or case for self-defense. It was a violation of the US Constitution which requires congressional approval for significant military interventions. It was not a law enforcement operation. It was a military operation in a foreign state.

But it is a good thing the thug is out of power, and the US took control of the oil and we are “running the country. “ Right?

It sounds rather like something we would condemn if another country did it. Mr. Trump has already issued 225 Executive Orders this presidential term, more than his entire first term. There are 253 active cases challenging his administrative actions. Trump obviously has a way of stretching the legal limits of his authority. Executive overreach is not new, but the blatancy and extent it is being used by the present administration is new.

It seems like a good thing. Does it really matter if it was legal? It does if we are a nation of laws that follows its constitution, let alone international law.

Frustration births change, for better or worse. People are frustrated with the high cost of living. Having the government provide necessary services for them that they cannot afford on their own has a broad appeal. 

People are also frustrated when we don’t have a strong response to countries that pose a threat to our nation. Many of us would rather see a quick and effective executive response than have Congress debate it to death.

These frustrations and extreme responses are born out of a basic dissatisfaction of our government and the status quo. My question is: Do we really want to throw out the founding principles and guardrails our nation was founded on? We might be inclined to say, “yes,” if it works to our favor, but the day will come that we regret it.

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Here it is: the big flip of the page to 2026. It’s that golden opportunity to reflect on 2025 and to aspire for a better 2026. The trick is combining those noble aspirations with the crush of reality for a hopeful way forward.

But let’s be honest, somewhere about mid-January most of our aspirations for the new year usually get waylaid by the realities of daily life and the difficulty of personal change.

Here are some random thoughts to help us combine those noble aspirations with the crush of reality for a hopeful way forward.

Change is possible. I am not one of those who believes that people never change because I have witnessed life-altering change in my life and in other people.

Change is hard. It is more than a little unlikely that anyone will change something that has been a part of the pattern of their life for several years in a few days or weeks.

Change requires a strategy. It won’t just happen because we wish it to. We have to dig deep, asking ourselves, “What is it really going to take?” There will be a whole subcategory of steps and little changes to get to the desired goal. Work on those little steps.

Change is a process. It is not an event. We have to learn to embrace the process, realizing that we have not arrived, but are in process for all of life. That process will involve some successes and some failures. We are doing great if we can keep the arrow generally pointed in the right direction.

Change requires grace. The great example is God’s grace who accepts us as we are. The great challenge is to accept others as they are, but the greatest challenge may be to accept ourselves as we are. Yet, that is where we are. That is reality.

Change needs acceptance. “What if we never change?” “What if we keep failing?” What if self-loathing sets in and we keep replaying negative mental messages about ourselves? It all comes down to our understanding of God.

If our view of God is someone who is surprised by our failure or sin and somehow changes how he feels about us, we will likely become an obsessive self-improvement freak or someone who feels a bit more righteous than most. That is not the God I know who was fleshed out by Jesus. That’s a god of our own making him more like us than the real God.

Change is not just about us. One of the big parts of changing is becoming more loving. We all have this tendency to get lost in our own little world when the best thing we can do for ourselves and others is to become more loving and focused on others.

The post Nuggets for the New Year appeared first on Glenn Hager.

Since this post seemed to several people last year, I am reposting it here.

Christmas 1981

The news hit us hard. Everything in our busy lives faded from our minds as our thoughts were consumed with one new haunting fact. Patty had a large tumor that required a hysterectomy. She was twenty-five. 

We got married very young. Patty was only eighteen. I was all of twenty. By this time we had two children, a girl and a boy, ages four and two.

She was an ER nurse, and I was finishing college and working part time. 

We didn’t have time for a hospitalization. So, we planned it during my Christmas break.

In those days, we lived over an hour and half from our parents and they both expected us to spend equal time with them (at least). So, visits were always a chore with two little kids, a long drive, and fiercely competitive parents.

That year, we spent Christmas Day in St. Joseph’s Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri. We ate Christmas Dinner together, side-by-side in her room, while celebrating a successful surgery and watching the Kennedy Center Honors on TV. Victor Borge was inducted that year. Patty only hurt when she laughed. The food was good. The program was hilarious. It was peaceful there in the hospital as the patient census was very low due to the holiday. 

We had no demands to meet, just each other.

We felt blessed.

Christmas 2004

We had two beautiful step-granddaughters, but we were about to experience the first Christmas with our less than one month old grandson. We always had Christmas here at our home north of Chicago, but the kids lived way up in St. Paul, Minnesota and the weather was bad. We didn’t know if the highways would be clear enough for them to make it.

Patty and I were more excited than two little kids expecting an extravagant Christmas gift. 

I kept playing “This Christmas Day“ by Tran Siberian Orchestra over and over. There is a line in the song, “She’s (our daughter) coming home this Christmas Day.” 

That song has moved me to tears and goosebumps so many times as we embraced the gift of a most precious baby boy. 

He is now twenty-one and doing well at university.

We felt blessed.

Christmas 2015-ish

For over forty years we celebrated Christmas with the entire family at home on Christmas Eve. We would eat good food, read the Christmas story from Luke 2, and open presents.

The tradition began with steaks cooked on the grill. As the family grew, the steaks turned into kabobs.

It’s almost always very cold at Christmas time in the upper Midwest but tradition demanded cooking the kabobs on the grill. So, I would wheel it out of the garage and fire it up. It’s a job for my son, Nathan, and me. 

Something happens out there between father and son as we freeze our butts off. While the inside of the house is filled with frenzied activity and chatter, the cold outdoors is peaceful and focused with just two people.

We enjoy the man time and have admitted to each other; it is our favorite time.

Now my Son-in-Law, Jared joins us too.

We felt blessed.

Christmas 2019

We were called back to Missouri as Mom faced her last few days on earth. She was only a tiny bit conscious at times. Her body was shutting down. Patty, Michelle, and I were keeping vigil wondering if each breath would be her last.  

She passed away while Michelle and I returned to the hotel on an errand. Patty called letting me know Mom had slipped away from this life into the next.  Patty thought she waited to let go until I left. It was the day before Christmas Eve. The kids came. The arrangements were made. The funeral would be the day after Christmas. We had no Christmas plans, no place for Christmas.

My cousin who had sat with mom until we arrived invited us to her home for Christmas Dinner. Her son and his family were visiting from Austria. Little Sebastian was running around as conversations ensued in English and German. They are all delightful, gracious people. 

They adopted us into their family.

Even in our grief, we felt blessed.

Christmas 4BC

God came low, real low. Humanity low. Poverty low. Nobody low. So low hardly anyone recognized him. His few initial followers were also low, some foreign mystics, some sheepherders who were regarded as untrustworthy, and a faithful elderly couple. 

The oppressive religious system and the ruthless foreign superpower that occupied the country colluded with each other to stay in power and keep the people in submission. Yet, it was all as intended, the poverty, the high taxes, the oppressive government, the corrupt religious leaders.

It’s not the end of the story. He was killed. He did rise. 

And now, it’s not about being good enough or having faith enough.

It’s about embracing him.

We are blessed.

Merry Christmas, friends!

The post Tales of the Glories of Christmases Long-Long-Ago appeared first on Glenn Hager.

We just returned home from spending a weekend in Nashville, our third trip, but our first concert.

I am not a big city guy, but I like to go and see the things the city offers and then head back to my cozy home in the Cumberlands of East Tennessee.

Nashville is one of the fastest growing cities in America with 2.15 million people living in the metro area, making it the twenty-first largest in the nation, the fourth largest city in the south, and Tennessee’s biggest city.

It feels like a big city because it draws 16.8 million visitors a year who spend almost 11 billion dollars. There is so much to do in Nashville, one could easily stay an entire week in an attempt to sample all the city has to offer.

Nashville has more than its share of monikers, Athens of the South, Music City, and Nash Vegas. I understand each of them, especially the last one.

The street scene on Broadway in Nashville is like none other with wall-to-wall honkey-tonks for blocks and rocking country music leaking out of each one of them. Some have different bands in different rooms. The sidewalks are packed with visitors looking for a good time.

Nashville is indeed music city, but it is also a bustling party town with its pedal bars and bachelorette parties. It’s a different world, like something out of a movie. I am not a party guy, but I have fun looking at all of the honkey-tonk names colorfully displayed in neon and listening to all of the live music.

The Ryman Auditorium has a special place in the hearts of all music lovers. Known as “The “Mother Church of Country Music.” This 2,362-seat venue was originally built as the Union Gospel Tabernacle in 1890 and was home to the Grand Ole Opry from 1943 to 1974 when a new home was built for the Opry. It is on the National Register of Historical Places and has hosted rock artists for decades earning its place as a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Landmark.

For several years I have wanted to attend a concert there.

My opportunity presented itself in the form of The Mavericks, a group that defies categorizing. My best take is country, rock, and Latin music that makes you dance. We have seen them once before in Milwaukee. We love them, though my wife needs ear protection.

We had our tickets for several months, then, sadly the founder and front man, Raul Malo developed a rare and fatal form of cancer. Raul was truly a maverick in creating a style of music that confounded the Nashville musical establishment. 

He put together a touring entourage that included electric guitars, bass, drums, keyboard, accordion, and a brass section. They enjoyed considerable success in the studio and on the road over thirty-five years, developing a committed grassroots following. 

The man has the purest, silkiest voice I have ever heard. It makes you listen with joy. So, I got to see one of my favorite bands at one of the most storied venues in the country. We spent most of the three hours on our feet. Raul was unable to perform, but the band called on a number of their musical friends to cover Raul’s vocals. The night was full of energy and emotion.

Nashville was very much another world than my daily experience, but one I truly enjoyed. If you love live music, Nashville is the place to be.

Raul passed away two days after we attended the concert. His voice, his smile, his passion reached the back row and touched the hearts of many, including me.

The post Nashville Nights  appeared first on Glenn Hager.

It was a pretty fall day, and I had made a vow to myself and my wife to get out and explore our new home, i.e., the Cumberland Mountains. Somewhere in my internet searches for interesting attractions, I ran across Elrod Falls. 

It was forty-two miles away. Was it worth the drive? Who knows? Let’s find out. That’s what you do when you are retired and are weary of being consumed with all that is involved in making a new house your home. I was feeling like I worked here, but I haven’t really lived here yet. I also, had just found my way through some health issues and was ready to get out and reclaim my life. It was high time to regain some balance and get acquainted with the local geography.

As seems to be the case with a lot of natural attractions in this part of country, the journey progressed from highway to secondary roads, to something that just barely qualifies as a road. It is easy to picture someone meeting you with a shotgun if the “road” is indeed someone’s long, winding private driveway. 

Who cares. We were just two “kids” out for a scenic drive.

We learned Elrod Falls is a county attraction, a natural wonder really. The area has limited improvements, a fire pit, some benches, a walking trail along Flat Gap Creek which originates on Clinch Mountain in Hancock County (Tennessee).

As we pulled into the area, it was a bit disappointing because the water level was so low. The creek was covered with moss-laden rocks that formed a couple of small pools. But we were not deterred and followed the trail up creek to find the main attraction: a sixty-five-foot-high incline with a gurgling trickle tumbling over the rocky outcropping. It was magnificent. While standing on some wooden steps, captivated by the reward of journey, we met Bob.

This had proven to be great little day trip already, but meeting Bob made it even more special. While we leaned on the railing taking in the beauty, we chatted and learned a lot about each other in a short time. 

Bob said he was seventy-eight. He grew up in the area but found himself living out West in Montana for a good many years. He was happy to be back. He loved the natural beauty of the area and the slower pace of life. We listened to the stories from his youth, and he talked about how things have changed. He even stopped us as we were leaving to pass on another gem of story he had heard.

I liked Bob a lot. He brightened our day. I believe if we lived closer, we would be good friends.

I don’t know Bob’s back story. I assumed he was a widower. I thought a lot of people of his age and circumstances, would be sitting on the couch feeling sorry for themselves. Yet, Bob was out and about enjoying nature and meeting new people, bringing a little light into their lives.

He had his faithful companion with him, a hound dog who was well behaved off leach. He referred to her as his inspiration.

Bob showed me a lot about how to age with grace. He was my inspiration.

Our new friend told us about a food truck in nearby Sneedville, the only town in Hancock County. Since we were hungry, we found our way there. To our surprise, not long after we pulled in, here came Bob and his inspiration.

If anyone who reads this knows of Bob or the barbeque food truck in Sneedville, please let me know.

You can contact me at glennhager1@gmail.com or find me at glennhager.com or on Facebook.

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By the time you read this I suspect that a short-term compromise has finally been reached to fund the government. But as I write, the federal government has been shut down for Forty-four days. It is the longest shutdown in history.  Unfortunately, it is not an isolated event, but it is emblematic of how our government is functioning. 

In too many ways it is simply dysfunctional.

Here is a brilliantly simple explanation of what has happened from Alex Buscemi of The Builders Movement (abuscemi@buildersmovement.org). 

The government shutdown is basically America’s version of parents fighting while the kids hide upstairs, wondering when dinner will be ready. Mom and Dad (that’s Congress) are too busy screaming at each other over who “started it” to actually parent. Meanwhile, the kids (that’s us) are left scrounging the pantry, surviving on crushed-up Triscuits from the bottom of the box.

Millions of people were left waiting on delayed food assistance, hundreds of thousands of federal employees were not getting a paycheck, and travelers were left wondering if they could safely fly as air traffic controllers are among the unpaid. 

How could this happen? I pay my taxes, and I suspect you do too. It happened because Congress could not agree on a budget. So, it was not passed, not even a short-term resolution could be passed. It is the result of an ill-fated game of chicken, a silly partisan game that hurts lots of real people. They (in this case, the Democrats) could have passed the Continuing Resolution which would have kept funding at its current level and then had the much-needed debate about healthcare. However, both parties have been guilty of playing this game in the past.

I think it is the members of Congress whose paycheck should be withheld. They are the ones not doing their job. Part of their job is appropriations and they failed miserably.

It happened because politics is more important than people. On bill after bill, the Republicans vote as a block and so do the Democrats. The Senate is split 53 Republican and 47 Democrats.  It takes sixty senators to pass legislation.

Our two-party system is not constitutionally mandated. As a matter of fact, our first and only independent president, George Washington, warned us about them.

He famously expressed his opinion of political policies in his farewell address.

The spirit of party serves always to distract the public councils and enfeeble the publicadministration. It agitates the community with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms, kindles the animosity of one part against the another, foments occasional riot and insurrection. 

His prophetic words sound more like a current news report than a historical document/

It seems unlikely one party would be right on everything and the other one wrong every time. What are the odds?

Each party would have us believe that they are trying to save America and the other is trying to destroy it; and people believe it. The purpose of political parties is to amass power and money, so their candidates get elected and their policies get enacted and thousands of federal employees keep their jobs or get new jobs through a change in administration.

Their message is one of fear and hate. Fear about how the other party Is trying to destroy their beloved nation and hate and vilification about how bad, how evil, and how un-American their opponents are.

America has been built upon civil discourse. Our founders knew there would be disagreements. They actually made it difficult to pass legislation and they wanted to protect of the minority view so that it got a hearing. Negotiation is absolutely essential for us to function. 

Now negotiation, compromise, and civility are as out of fashion as the leisure suit. The very principles that our nation was founded on, and the very core of our constitutional operating system are looked upon with as a sign of weakness and disloyalty.  

So, here we are. Legislators are too busy repeating their increasingly extreme party mantra, too busy vilifying colleagues who differ, too busy shamelessly gerrymandering districts, too busy running for re-election, too busy fundraising, too busy to hold the executive branch in check, and too busy to simply do the people’s business (their job).

The result is our country gets mired down in crisis after crisis. Our ability to respond to a growing array of timely challenges is frozen. The can keeps getting kicked down the down the road. We have drifted into tribalism and regionalism. Neighbor hates neighbor because he has the nerve to have a different opinion on politics and the very fabric that holds us together is alarmingly frayed.

What can we do?

Get out of the echo chamber. The easiest thing to do is confine ourselves to an echo chamber of people with like experiences and opinions, but we will never learn or grow there. It is not heresy to listen to someone who has a different opinion. To not do so is actually naïve and narrow-minded. We might not like somethings someone says and believes, but they may have a different experience and perspective that deserves hearing.

“Make our own sausage.” Sauage is made from lots of different ingredients and opinions on important issues are best if based on information from several varied sources. I know it is easier to follow what someone else believes than to gather our own information and form our own opinion, but everyone has blind spots. Unfortunately, there is a whole cadre of politicos and media types who make big money by projecting a particular opinion rather than conveying solid information from various sources. Their job is to keep the base outraged at their opponents and blind to the misgivings of their chosen politician. 

Remember relationships are more important than politics. The most heartbreaking thing about what is happening is that relationships have been fractured because two people have different political opinions. 

There are a lot of people who I just don’t understand. Why would they say that? Why would they do that? Why do they think that way? At times I feel that way about the some of the people closest to me. 

Love is stronger than that. Love kicks in when we don’t understand. You don’t have to agree with someone to listen and treat them with respect.

Please contact me at glennhager1@gmail.com or find me at glennhager.com or on Facebook.

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I am not from here. About a quarter of my life was spent in northwest Missouri having grown up in St. Joseph. After that we moved to a bedroom town near Kansas City, Missouri (and I can’t help but remain a Chiefs’ fan). Lastly, we wound up in Illinois. First in central Illinois and then in northeastern Illinois.

That was our home for over thirty years, most of the time in Winthrop Harbor, Illinois. The name of the place sounds far grander than its reality, though we had a good life there, midway between Chicago and Milwaukee. We were very near Lake Michigan and just a block and a half south of the Wisconsin stateline.

The portion of our family that lived near us for several years migrated to rural Harrogate, Tennessee. Rather than be alone as senior citizens in a region known for its high taxes and flukey climate, we decided to join them here.

I only have five months of experience with the people of Appalachia. When we moved here, I never even thought of this area as part of Appalachia. I tend to think of Kentucky and West Virginia as part of the region, but not Tennessee. 

Like most of the uninitiated, I think of Tennessee as a desirable location. You say, “Tennessee” to most folks, and they reply with “Nashville”, and Nashville is booming. Maybe they will think of Memphis, Chattanooga, Knoxville, or Pigeon Forge and Dollywood. But here in eastern Tennessee the term Appalachia is owned and embraced.

I am trying to understand all that is packaged in that word because Appalachia is my home now and likely will be until I die.

Maybe AI is good for something. Here is the AI view from 100,000 feet up. 

Appalachia is a cultural and geographical region in the eastern United States that stretches from southern New York to northern Mississippi, encompassing parts of 13 states. The region is defined by the Appalachian Mountains and is home to a diverse population with a rich history. While the area has a strong cultural identity, it also faces modern challenges such as poverty and a need for better infrastructure.

Without a doubt it is different here than anywhere we have ever lived. The most outstanding thing my wife and I have noticed is the kindness, politeness, and congeniality of the people. I am not just trying to get on your good side. This distinctive was striking to us and we love it. 

I have been referred to as “brother” by people I just met and our new names are, “Mr. Glenn” and “Miss Patty”. Also, a shopping cart became a buggy. Everything is closed on the weekends and stories are a part of any significant transaction. It slows things down a bit much for most northerners but shows a real interest in each other as people.

To us, things here seem old-timey and quaint. A lot of things that used to be a common part of interpersonal relations and have long since faded away elsewhere remain here.

The mountains in our backyard are a special treasure. I think we are beginning to get used to everything being strung out in the hollers. 

We have a found a surprising number of local businesses in our new “twin cities” of Tazewell and New Tazewell, Tennessee. Also, we found a surprising amount of traffic on route 33. I don’t know where everybody comes from.

Taxes here are unbelievably lower than in Illinois. Property taxes are close to one-tenth. Government regulation also is far more lax. Where we used to live, you had to pull a permit and have several inspections to build a simple porch.

To be sure, there are more blighted residences and empty commercial buildings (at least around here), punctuated by an occasional grandiose home on a hill. It would seem to indicate the continued prevalence of poverty and a lack of good-paying jobs.

Isolation formed Appalachia. Back in the day when transportation was a struggle, things in our country where decentralized. You did business with a local merchant in your own little town. There was accountability. These days you can’t even get decent customer service no matter how many buttons you push on your cell phone or how long you wait while listening to terrible music. 

Here, the topography lent to the isolation and independence of the people as they embraced their own unique cultural history.

For generations all of this was denigrated, and the perception of Appalachia was that of an impoverished, uneducated people. 

It has become a different story as the uniqueness of the region has become embraced and celebrated.

Appalachia has massive beauty abounding with opportunities for outdoor recreation. It has its own special culture that has birthed countless musicians and artisans. Factories and businesses have located here due to favorable economic conditions. 

I think, (and most everything I have written is just me thinking out loud) this vast region has vast opportunities ahead. 

I would love to hear your thoughts.

Please contact me at glennhager1@gmail.com or find me at glennhager.com or on Facebook.

The photo of the barn was taken at the end of the my street.

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