Diamond Mike Watson's Blog, page 8

The Cherry Tree Story

“I cannot tell a lie- I cut down the cherry tree.”

Although we have treasured this childhood story, there is no evidence this was ever uttered by George Washington. The important moral of this tale was to teach us that respected leaders do two things:

They tell the truth.

They admit their mistakes.

These qualities have been the bedrock of what we teach our kids. We strive for their young minds to grow in cherishing honesty and understanding the awesome power of forgiveness. These qualities are also what we expect for the person who represents us to the world- the President of the United States.

Every week I see a different news source that has carefully tabulated a running total of the thousands of lies/ falsehoods and/or misleading statements of Donald Trump since he took office.

I wonder if those who continue to support Trump and follow his tweets have ever heard of the Cherry Tree story.

The Illusion of a Madman

Many supporters of the President admit forgiving the unpolished character of a man whose beliefs sided with many of their own. Donald Trump was never a saint, they said. But now, through the President’s Twitter feed, the world can peer inside a real time diary of a person who has revealed his innermost psyche.  Trump has failed in showing compassion or reason. If we ignore all news sources and read only his tweets, we understand these words come from a man who is deeply troubled by anger and paranoia.  By constantly lashing out to all those who disagree with him, it proves that he is not a “deal maker,” but a person whose attributes most of us would ward our own children from. 

It is time to let go of the illusion that Trump will make our country a better place to live.  We must re-examine ourselves to gamble the consequences of keeping this man seated at the highest position in the world. Should we remain comfortable in our homes and do nothing?  Or should we determine if a person with a personality disorder is leading our country into a dangerous territory?

The Trump Show

“I will never testify against Trump.” This statement was recently made by Roger Stone, essentially stating that he will not be forced by a rogue and out of control prosecutor to make up lies and stories about “President Trump.” Nice to know that some people still have “guts!”

Donald J. Trump. 12/3/2018. Twitter. 

The legacy of Donald Trump has undoubtedly given our world amusement and arresting headlines.  He has entertained us with his brashness, thoughtless rhetoric, and childish ignorance. In defense of Trump, I am ashamed we have used him as the butt of our jokes. There is nothing noble about laughing at someone else’s expense and making fun of another’s misfortunes. 

Although it makes interesting news, it is cruel to drag out Trump’s case for obstruction of justice that becomes more and more evident with his every tweet. (This particular tweet may be a perfect example of witness tampering code 18 U.S.C. §§ 1503, 1512.)

It is notable of Trump’s awkward placement of quotation marks, “President Trump,” which may show his own insecurity of being elected to a position he knew he could not fill. 

I know justice cannot be rushed, but let’s not cause more agony to a man who was sadly unqualified to represent the core values of what it means to be human and what it means to be American. 

In our lifetimes, the Trump Show has been the greatest. I am thankful for this show. 

It has brought out the worst in us.  

It has brought out the best in us.

It has been a lesson for all of us. 

I hope we can all learn from it.

The omnibus clause, or “catch-all provision” of 18 U.S.C. § 1503, provides:

Whoever . . . corruptly or by threats or force, or by any threatening letter or communication, influences, obstructs, or impedes, or endeavors to influence, obstruct, or impede, the due administration of justice, shall be (guilty of an offense).

You Can Keep the Seashells

Maybe it was 1985 when I was divorced from my first wife. The marriage lasted less than a year so many memories have faded. Somehow a glass jar of seashells survived and has provided no more than the important reminder of the eternal beauty of nature. 

At first, it was fairly easy to divide our possessions.  “You can keep the green towels”, she said. “I will take the blue ones.”  “You can keep the cooking pans,” she continued. “I’ll take the bed because that was given to me by my mother.”  And finally, “You can keep the glass jar of seashells because I know you worked so hard finding them at the beach on our honeymoon.”  

Later, when lawyers got involved, green towels and cooking pans became 401Ks, alimony, and pet support (we had a cat.) The bed soon disappeared and I slept on the floor. To prevent lowering the morale of my employees, I dared not mention anything where I managed a jewelry store in Kansas. 

It is strange how our minds linger with stuffed mental pictures and past memories. I am grateful for every obstacle, for they have always guided me on a far more green and luscious path filled with amazing people I have learned to love.  It is easy to understand my every thought has led me here.  

And the path keeps getting greener. 

Although we shouldn’t put too much emphasis on material things, I am glad the jar of seashells withstood time. Life can be a great teacher if we are observant. 

As I trace the ridges of a single seashell with my finger, I am happy for all my family and friends who have enriched my life and forged me into who I am today. Perhaps the greatest lesson was understanding that we should never doubt the master plan of the universe, for She has better plans for all of us.[image error]

The Roller Coaster

 

After we have been securely strapped in the seat of a roller coaster we slowly emerge from a dark tunnel. The golden rays from the sun briefly blind us until our eyes get adjusted to our surroundings. 

This is our birth. 

The coaster creeks slowly up an arduous hill.  Not knowing our fate, our heart pounds with anticipation. This climb is the learning experience that draws the blueprint for our lives.  It is where we decide how to react to the challenges that confront us. Are we afraid?  Are we brave?  

This is our childhood.

We stop briefly at the top to catch our breath. What we perceive here may influence the rest of our lives. We may become more aware. The trees in the distance may seem small but immense in quantity. We may feel the sun on our cheeks and the cool air brushing our face. It may be our mountaintop experience. Do we yearn to fall forward or return back from where we came?  Are we prepared to take chances or express appreciation to those we admire. If we are fearless, we can love unconditionally. We may realize we are not a speck in the universe but we are the entire universe. We may realize our thoughts create our world. We can raise our arms and flap like a bird. Or we can cower deep in our seat as we grip the rails.

This is adulthood.

As we speed downward we can close our eyes to shield ourselves from terror. Or we can keep our eyes open, absorbing the exhilaration of using all our senses.

The sunshine disappears as we reenter the same tunnel as we glide to a halt. This may not be the end of the ride but merely the beginning of yet another. If we were lucky, we kept our eyes open. 

This is our death.  It is also our conception. 

Slaying the Demon

There is a poignant article from The Atlantic entitled, “The Cruelty is the Point-  President Trump and his supporters find community by rejoicing in the suffering of those they hate and fear.”

https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2018/10/the-cruelty-is-the-point/572104/. 10/3/2018. Adam Serwer. The Atlantic. 

I felt moved to express how this writing gave me a new awareness of what defines us as humans. When I looked up a lynching photo in Indiana in 1930 the author referred to I was more jarred from the indifference and smirky expressions of the spectators than the lifeless bodies of the doomed. In fact, if the hanging bodies were removed from the photos, it would appear as a large group of white people were having a good time at an amusement park. 

Looking deeper, I imagined if I were in the photo. I imagined the peer pressure of camaraderie and wondered if I would have lifted even a finger to prevent this act of horror.  Zooming in on my face, would I have shown a detectable amount of disgust or would there be a trace of joy in my smile that justice was served?

A point of the Atlantic article was to show how the Trump administration is filled with the same type of cruelty. Most would agree that separating a child from their mother without any future plan to reunite them is cruel. The animated mocking of a disabled person is cruel. The public humiliation of a woman who has testified of sexual molestation is cruel. 

If humans are similar to every other creature that has walked upon the earth, why are we so different in that we can express joy in the suffering of our same species?  

In the research of his book, “Fear”, author Bob Woodward recently said the following about Donald Trump in an interview with Bill Mayer. 

“It is part of his being to get power over people—to crush them, to demean them,” and later said, “When I learned that I got a chill.”

The bigger issue is that we cannot point solely at our elected leader for the ills of society. We must first look at ourselves.  After all, it is not Donald Trump that chants, “Lock her up!” at his rallies. This is chanted by humans who share our dna. It is also not the “uproarious laughter” of Donald Trump or Brett Kavanaugh that sexual assault victim Christine Blasey Ford remembers that is important. It is more important that there were recorded giggles of amusement by officers who responded to the cries of children being separated from their parents at our southern border. These officers also share our dna. 

There is a quote that has been twisted over the years but the end result is the same-  Good friends will help you bury a body, but great friends will bring their own shovel and not ask any questions.

As humans, is this who we are?  However small, is there a speck of cruelty in all of us in which we derive group pleasure from another’s misfortune?  If this is true we must recognize this innate demon, slay it, and begin conducting our lives in the way we would want our kids and grandkids to live.

Voting Democratic

I was reared by loving adoptive parents in a white, Methodist town in Southern Indiana. When I turned eighteen I registered to vote. My parents encouraged me to choose the Republican Party. When it came time to vote they told me to vote straight Republican. Without prior research or thought I strolled into a private voting booth, closed the curtain behind me, and pulled the single lever to confirm my selection of straight Republican. I felt proud that I performed my civic duty. I wore a sticker home saying “I Voted!”

Shockingly, millions of Americans were complacent with our current president’s rhetoric of sowing seeds of fear, hate, and racism from the very beginning of his candidacy. This year, I recognized a president who was an expert at reaching inside and revealing a latent darkness in all of us.

I again performed this sacred duty that was allowed to me from my country who has blessed me with wonderful memories and lifelong friends. My parents have long passed, but I wonder how they would have voted today. We must make choices about issues that affect our security, our health, and our economy. However, we must always choose the party that inspires us to be better citizens, that brings out the best in us, and that respects all people regardless of their race or religion.

This year, my straight Democratic Party vote was so easy.

Sharing the Same Experience- Part Four

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A friend asked if I was a cup-half-full or a cup-half-empty guy. I quickly answered that my cup was neither because it was always gushing over its brim. Then I realized that if most people’s excitement level never varies between zero to three out of ten, mine usually hovers constantly around twelve. Using the same scale, that measurement would be the same for my curiosity of the unknown, for my appreciation of sight, sound, and touch, and for my belief that we create each day we wake to.


 


Later I imagined my cup, bubbling over the rim, next to another cup containing only a few teaspoons of liquid. Then I imagined thousands of cups with various amounts of liquid from water to wine, from freezing to scalding and in every color. If these cups represented each of us, how could anybody possibly share the same experience?


 


That exercise made me more fully understand the preciousness of connecting with someone else on the same frequency. From the moment we are born, from the way we have been reared, we experience our world differently. A dark night may be calming to one and frightening to another. A joke may make one laugh or another feel insulted. A shiny beetle may evoke wonder or terror. An expansive sea may summon tranquility or loneliness.


 


So we must not be disappointed when a friend does not see the same image in a cloud as ourselves as we gaze into the sky. But when we do, we must be thankful and say to our friend, “I am glad I was here to experience this with you.”

The Power of Intention

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I have proof that if you intensely hold a thought in your head for a long period of time it will become true.






In 1993, shortly after I opened Gallery of Diamonds jewelers which now resides in Santa Ana, CA, I began a writing contest for school kids. Since I was adopted as a child and never knew my birth mother, I wanted to give kids the chance to show their appreciation for their own moms. It was, after all, the encouragement and love of my adoptive mother who gave me the confidence to open my business. After working as a diamond merchant for a decade, the tiny store was launched with a few rings, necklaces, loose diamonds, and the naive but calculated determination to succeed in the jewelry business. With old fashioned pencil and paper, school kids who most creatively honored their moms would be rewarded with the grand prize of a quarter-carat diamond.






That was 27 years ago. I was 33.






Today, the Why Mom Deserves a Diamond contest has inspired nearly half a million kids to pause and reflect on why their mothers are important in their lives. My adoptive mother is no longer living, but I’m sure she would be proud in knowing that she not only inspired her only son, but also the parade of families who now come to Gallery of Diamonds every year for the Why Mom Deserves a Diamond experience. Each year, two kids are selected to receive diamonds to give to their mothers, thousands of second and third-place winners are rewarded with other gemstones.






Each winner is required to come recite their words, then select their gemstone prize and place it into their mothers palm. Although the moment is brief, it is a cherished moment that remains nestled in our lives that is constantly filled with noise and pandemonium. It was soon realized that the most important prize of the contest was not the loose diamonds nor the colorful gemstones. The greatest prize was the words the child had written and the lifelong memory of hearing those words spoken.




The power of intention is a remarkably strong force, and I am so thankful to be a witness to tell this story. I am writing this in 2018. I am 60.




We knew it required money to expand a noble cause but we were not sure where the money would come from. Other than offering a vehicle for young adults to express themselves, we simply wanted to increase goodwill and to give Gallery of Diamonds a deeper purpose. Today I am certain the reason Gallery of Diamonds became the nation’s leader of mothers jewelry is because we originally never planned on selling anything! The jewelry designs today were born from the desire of mothers who wanted to preserve the memories of their child’s accomplishment into a lifetime keepsake. A great lesson was learned that I can now recommend for nearly every fledgling business- discover the need first, create the product later.




Ideas usually breed more ideas. Sometimes one needs to be dramatic to make a point. In 2010, to show our camaraderie, my staff playfully photographed themselves under a controversially large black and white umbrella. Today, the raising of the umbrella is a gesture to honor our mothers and all those who are significant in our lives. It is also a symbol to remind us that in knowing we are loved, we can each fully live our unlimited potential, or FlyUp. A new foundation was born, and FlyUp has now become a fresh approach about determination and positive intentions that we bring to Orange County schools during assemblies or Career Day.






Every year on Diamond Day, right after the two grand prize Diamond Winners are rewarded, the winners, their families and teachers, along with my staff journey around the lake that is adjacent to our headquarters. With arms held high we hold the black and white canopies above our heads. We call it the Umbrella March.






To those who are younger, 60 may seem old. At that age it is still possible to run and jump. Although physical limitations can prevent us from running as fast or jumping as high, our minds sometimes become more illuminated. If anyone reading this has witnessed the life-changing moment of being a gemstone winner, I’m certain you will agree that this event is needed more than ever in our modern world that seems to sometimes slouch into indifference.






Please join us in our mission to allow every child to be able to express their words of love to all those who are significant in their lives, to remind them they are loved, and to realize they can FlyUp. You can write a blog, inform your school (in Orange County), share this post, or be a supporter by donating as little as five dollars through the Why Mom Deserves a Diamond website.






Thank you.

 

In Memory of Senator John McCain

 

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Today is September 1, 2018.  Arizona Senator John McCain’s body lie in state in the Washington National Cathedral.  Since 1852, only thirty-three persons have been honored this way. The American flag was draped across his cold coffin. The temperature began to climb into the high eighties as the sun peaked through cloudy skies. 

If someone argues that being a prisoner of war for five and a half years wouldnot justify the title of American Hero, it may be necessary to add that McCain was held in solitary confinement for two of those years and he refused to be released because he was the son of a notable Navy admiral. Instead of complying to be set free, he subjected himself to torture.

“I just knew it wasn’t the right thing to do,” (McCain) said. “I knew that they wouldn’t have offered (my release) if I hadn’t been the son of an admiral.I just didn’t think it was the honorable thing to do.”[The Arizona Republic] 2007.

The love contained in John McCain’s heart was not transformed during his capture. He maintained his sense of humor and seldom complained about his physical condition. If one ever wondered why he made unusual movements and never seemed to offer a full salute, it must be known that McCain’s limbs were pulled from their sockets from being hung by his arms. After McCain was released, he would no longer be able to comb his hair.

The story of John McCain does not end with his release. His experience of being a captive in Hanoi only heightened his sense of duty and honor to his country.In 2008, McCain received the GOP’s nomination for president. During his speech at the Republican National Convention, he recalled that his love for the U.S. grew while he was in Vietnam:

“I fell in love with my country when I was a prisoner in someone else’s. I loved it not just for the many comforts of life here. I loved it for its decency; for its faith in the wisdom, justice and goodness of its people. I loved it because it was not just a place, but an idea, a cause worth fighting for. I was never the same again. I wasn’t my own man anymore. I was my country’s.”

Being released as a captive was just the beginning of McCain’s journey in his quest of serving his country. McCain served since 1983 in the U.S. House and Senate, including being elected to six Senate terms and rising to be a senior voice on defense and foreign policy.9/1/2018. Fortune.

On July 15, 2015, while appearing at the Family Leadership Summit in Ames, Iowa, presidential candidate Donald Trump made an outrageous statement about McCain that seemed sure to be the death blow of his candidacy:

“He’s not a war hero,” said Trump. “He was a war hero because he was captured. I like people who weren’t captured.”At a press availability following his remarks, Trump continued his attacks on McCain, saying, “I think John McCain’s done very little for the veterans. I’m very disappointed in John McCain.”

Regardless of Trump’s crass comments, he would later shock the nation by becoming the 45th president. For the next fifteen months, up until McCain’s imminent death from brain cancer, Trump would never apologize for his cruel words about McCain.

This brings us back to the beginning of the story on September 1.In preparation of his death, McCain invited two former presidents to speak at his memorial. Strikingly, Barrack Obama and George W. Bush both bitterly rivaled McCain for the highest title of the land.  McCain refused to invite the sitting president. The wound never healed between Trump and McCain.

Without mentioning his name, the veiled swipes at Trump were obvious to the mourners in the cathedral:

Barrack Obama:

“John understood …that part of what makes our country great is that our membership is based not on our bloodline, not on what we look like, what our last names are, it’s not based on where our parents or grandparents came from, or how recently they arrived, but on adherence to a common creed: that all of us are created equal, endowed by our creator with certain inalienable rights.

“…John understood that our security and our influence was won not just by our military might, not just by our wealth, not just by our ability to bend others to our will, but from our capacity to inspire others with our adherence to a set of universal values, like rule of law and human rights, and an insistence on the God-given dignity of every human being.”

“So much of our politics, our public life, our public discourse can seem small and mean and petty, trafficking in bombast and insult and phony controversies and manufactured outrage. It’s a politics that pretends to be brave and tough, but in fact is born of fear. John called on us to be bigger than that. He called on us to be better than that.

That’s perhaps how we honor him best, by recognizing that there are some things bigger than party or ambition or money or fame or power. That there are some things that are worth risking everything for: principles that are eternal, truths that are abiding. At his best, John showed us what that means. For that, we are all deeply in his debt.”

McCain’s daughter, Meghan McCain:

“We gather here to mourn the passing of America greatness. The real thing, not cheap rhetoric from men who will never come near the sacrifice he gave so willingly. Nor the opportunistic appropriation of those who live lives of comfort and privilege while he suffered and served.

“John McCain was not defined by prison, by the Navy, by the senate, by the Republican Party or by any single one of the deeds in his absolutely extraordinary life.

“John McCain was defined by love…..

“I was a small girl thrown from a horse and crying from a busted collarbone. My dad picked me up, he took me to the doctor and got me all fixed up. Then he immediately took me back home and made me get back on that very same horse. I was furious at him as a child, but how I love him for it now.

“My father knew pain and suffering with an intimacy and immediacy that most of us are blessed never to have endured. He was shot down, he was crippled, he was beaten, he was starved, he was tortured and he was humiliated. That pain never left him. The cruelty of his communist captors ensured that he would never raise his arms above his head for the rest of his life. Yet he survived, yet he endured, yet he triumphed. And there was this man who had been through all that with a little girl who simply didn’t want to get back on her horse. He could have sat me down and told me all of that and made me feel small because my complaint and my fear was nothing next to his pain and memory.

“Instead, he made me feel loved.

“‘Meghan,’ he said, his quiet voice that spoke with authority and meant you had best obey, ‘get back on the horse.’ I did and because I was a little girl, I resented it. Now that I am a woman, I look back across that time and see the expression on his face when I climbed back up and rode again, and I see the pride and love in his eyes as he said, ‘Nothing is going to break you.’

“For the rest of my life, whenever I fall down, I get back up. Whenever I am hurt, I drive on. Whenever I am brought low, I rise. That is not because I am uniquely virtuous or strong or resilient. It is simply because my father, John McCain, was.

“That is what love meant to John McCain. Love for my father also meant caring for the nation entrusted to him.

“The America of John McCain has no need to be made great again because America was always great.”

—-

During the memorial Donald Trump would be golfing at his property in Virginia. At 4PM, almost precisely the same time McCain’s daughter would be giving a tearful testimony about her father, Trump would prepare his final jab with smart phone in hand. From the twisted mind of a pathological narcissist, a lonely leader would once again attempt to crush his perceived enemies.

Remorse shows weakness.  Toughness shows strength.

Through the silent darkness of space as the White House flag fluttered at half staff and McCain’s body was yet to be buried, Trump finally tweeted-

“MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!”

– by Diamond Mike Watson.