More Random Thoughts

Thanks to Missy for getting me back on line. Ya'll might be sorry.

Where were we...Oh yes...we were talking about underwear...specifically OZ singlets.

I had more ramdom thoughts this morning as I was getting dressed for work. It must be an age thing. It may surprise some of you to learn that Kathie and I have not always seen eye to eye on every detail related to family life. One of the things that husbands only learn through sad experience is that wives can live with irritations for a long time...but the frustration will eventually bubble up...and boil over. And then it often comes as a blind-side hit, as an emphasis to a completely unrelated issue...like it has been reserved for that perfect moment.

One issue that came out of the blue for me, was Kathie's revelation that she had been irritated for years that I did not turn my underwear right-side-out before throwing them into the dirty clothes hamper. (I thought I was doing well to actually get the underwear off the floor and into the hamper.) Kathie had faithfully washed my underwear, turned them right-side-out, folded them, and put them in the drawer, for years. One day she did not put the underwear away. It was stacked on the bed. I'm not brightest light on the tree (a reference in deference to Christmas)...but I did think that there might be a message lurking there. Was she upset about something? Well...yes...apparently she was, but it had nothing to do with underwear. She just used the underwear as an exclamation point to the fact that, in addition to the more serious issue, I was generally oblivious and unappreciative. She made it a point to explain how irritated it made her that she had to turn my underwear right-side-out.

I was stunned. I have to plead guilty about the oblivious part, but I was stunned mainly because it would not have hurt my feelings in the least to have my underwear delivered wrong-side-out. That was never an expectation. So I suggested that I would be happy as a clam if Kathie would simply deliver the underwear to me wrong-side-out. And I would be perfectly happy to turn the underwear right-side-out each morning as I put it on. Who knew!

Problem solved. Sometimes we hold on to, and even entertain, irritations way too long. But it was a joint learning experience...Kathie's happy...I'm not quite so oblivious...I think about my wrong-side-out underwear every morning while dressing.

It makes me smile.

WHY? Sometimes it's best not to ask.

Kathie has a 1964 photo of me posted on a cabinet in our kitchen. It has been there for months and this morning I wondered...WHY? It occurred to me that she keeps it there to remind her of what her husband used to look like in his prime...as opposed to what she is now living with.

The photo was taken when I was serving as a Building Missionary, in Sydney. I was wearing a white shirt and a narrow, black "string" tie, in the style of the Beatles. If one looks closely you can see my underwear through the shirt. I was wearing a white "singlet"...which in today's parlance would be called a "wife-beater-shirt".

As I looked at the photo I had one of those strange experiences which are hard to explain. I had worn "singlets" all my life up to that point. I had never asked ...WHY? It was just the culture...everyone did it. I had never given a thought as to the functionality...the usefulness of a singlet. I mean...a T-shirt actually does something useful; it covers the male upper body, absorbs perspiration and helps keep a shirt at least looking fresh. A singlet, on the other hand, is pretty much useless; it does not even cover the underarms and does nothing for underarm perspiration stains. A singlet fails to cover either chest hair, back hair or underarm hair. The only useful function that comes to mind is that the singlet covers useless male nipples. But I suppose it was cool...as opposed to hot, under the Australian sun. And to a lot of Australian men it was probably "cool" in the macho sense.

I recall that Australia hotels would often have to post Rules for Customers such as ..."No Shirt No Shoes No Services"...but often the more practical hoteliers would reduce that to ..."No Singlet No Service"...shoes were optional.

Don't worry about me too much. When you get old, strange things happen. You return to your childhood and start wondering WHY again. You even start questioning underwear. Well...let's not go there Tony.

The Mohawk Immersion Program

Kathie and I just spent four days with Jeff, Kimi and Trey, plus Shane, Angie and Lydia in Washington DC. We enjoyed each other, visited museums and saw the sights. Knowing that we would be expected to do a lot of walking, Kathie and I engaged in serious preparation...well...we went out walking twice before we left. It was a good try...just too little too late...after three days we were exhausted. On our last full day, I actually declined the walking tour of monuments, in favour of spending a day alone in the American Indian Museum. The exhibits covered North, Central and South American Indian populations. It was a marvelous experience...but even with all that time, I did not get through all the exhibits.

There are many disturbing historical facts related to the clash of European and Indian cultures, but one of the most disturbing has been the systematic efforts of majority European cultures to force assimilation and loss of culture upon minority indigenous peoples. And this is not just an American issue...it has been a world wide problem.

When Kathie and I met in Sydney, we had many Maori friends from New Zealand. One was Richard Stewart. We were surprised to learn that he knew absolutely nothing about his culture, because he had been forbidden to speak his native language or learn his culture by the school system. He actually had to attend BYU Hawaii to learn his culture at the Polynesian Cultural Center. Even worse, Australian aboriginal children were forcibly removed from their families in an effort to assimilate them more quickly into white society. The plan was a miserable failure. Likewise many American Indian children suffered similar fates. Kathie and I discovered during a visit to Louisiana, that even Cajun children were forbidden from speaking Cajun French for a period of about 30 years. That also failed...but every such attempt damaged a couple of generations of children.

I was really impressed with the Mohawk Indian exhibit, because it dealt with the loss of culture head on. Mohawk men are well known as high-rise steel workers on the east coast and along with traditional biases against Indian culture by schools, these people faced loss of culture due to dispersal of families across the country. Today the Mohawk Nation has embarked on what they call the Mohawk Immersion Program...which is an educational program for children and adults. Today their children are immersed in Mohawk culture in parallel with their US/Canadian culture, from an early age...and all adults have the opportunity to take classes in their language and culture. I thought it was an inspiring story which had application to our own contemporary cultural problems.

For example, when we look at the ills in our US society, we can see that there has been a serious effort by progressives in this country to eliminate God and prayer from schools. And the Constitution has not been taught in law schools for decades and very few children in the last two generations have been taught the importance of the Constitution or reverence for the founding fathers in schools. I heard Glenn Beck say that we need to start teaching religion, morality, the Constitution and the history of the founding fathers again, if we are ever to reclaim this country from the progressives.

So maybe we can learn something from the Mohawk Indian Nation. We need to encourage local school districts to establish Constitution Immersion Programs and seriously teach the Constitution and the history of the Founding Fathers to young and old alike. We need to build pride in our cultural history across this great country.

"The Jodhpur Flying Club" by Peter Vacher

Andy and I purchased this book in Jodhpur. It is an amazing documentary of the history of aviation in Jodhpur. It expains why my father was employed as private pilot to the Maharaja of Jodhpur.

In 1931, the then Maharaja, Umaid Singh, the one who built the pink palace, decided to start a flying club in Jodhpur. He hired Geoff Godwin, an Englishman as his flight instructor. Geoff moved out to India, stayed for 20 years and trained 40 members of the royal family and countless others as pilots.

Jodhpur actually played an important role in international aviation. It was a stop-off point in some of the early air-races between Europe and Australia…and during WWII Maharaja Umaid Singh turned his airport over to the RAF and US Air Force. It was from Jodhpur that pilots flew a very risky route “Over the Hump” to supply Allied troops in China and Burma. There were 1,200 men servicing aircraft in Jodhpur during the war. Geoff Godwin played an important role during this period.

After WWII the Jodhpur Flying Club was reactivated, under Geoff Godwin’s management, but it now had dozens of surplus planes to choose from. In 1947 Maharaja Umaid Singh died of appendicitis while out hunting. His son Hanwant Singh became the Maharajah. These were days when some of the royals delighted in “having fun” in aircraft, rather than playing it by the book. Peter Vacher reports that on the day that Hanwant Singh learned that he had won a landslide victory in the national elections, he jumped into his Beechcraft with a friend and took off. Geoff Godwin unsuccessfully tried to dissuade him. The intimation is that Geoff must have thought the Maharaja unfit to fly. Unfortunately the young Maharaja died along with his friend. They were apparently buzzing some animals and hit power cables.

Geoff Godwin was so distraught...and felt so responsible for the death of his young student Maharajah Hanwant Singh, that he left India and returned to England. Hanwant’s next brother, Himmat Singh became the Regent…the acting Maharaja until Hanwant’s three year old son Gaj (the current Maharaja) came of age. Himmat was an accomplished pilot, as were many family members, but their mother, the widow of Umaid Singh, apparently wielded great power, and refused to allow any of her children to fly alone.

Geoff Godwin and my father never met, but they were inextricably connected to the royal family and aviation in Jodhpur. The royal family of Jodhpur needed a private pilot. My father was chosen. He was expected to follow Geoff Godwin’s incredible legacy. That also explains why there were so many aircraft in hangers at the Jodhpur Airport when dad took over. Peter Vacher’s book actually lists 26 aircraft that were left behind when Geoff Godwin left Jodhpur.

The co-author of the book with Peter Vacher was Robert Godwin, grandson of Geoff Godwin. Andy and I will try to make contact with them.

Jodhpur, India

Andy and I returned from Jodhpur, India, last Thursday...and we are still suffering from jet lag after circumnavigating the earth in eight days. We accomplished my primary objective.

Meeting Rani..."the Rani Sahib of Jodhpur", aged 81, the widow of His Highness Himmat Singhji, Regent of Jodhpur, was such a sweet experience...an honor and a privilege. She was so gracious. She remembered my father Allan Robert Wegener (known to as Pops) with fondness and shared stories with us for two hours.

Rani then connected us with Kishor Singh, aged 80. My father mentioned Kishor many times in his memoirs. This meeting was completely unexpected and particularly poignant...because Kishor obviously loved my father...and said so many times. We talked
for two hours...and plan to keep the
communications open.

And we had dinner with the current Maharaja Gaj Singhji which was a memorable experience.

But our success was facilitated by Ann Newton Holmes, whom I have mentioned previously in this blog. None of this would have happened without Ann. There was no way to adequately thank her. But what was not expected...and really not totally revealed until we got home, was that Ann's husband Fred R. Holmes was possibly the world expert on Hindu architecture. it was not until I got into the book on the Umaid Bhawan Palace, authored by Fred and Ann that I discovered the depth of their knowledge and understanding of Hindu architecture.

Unfortunately Fred passed away last September, leaving Ann to complete arrangements for the publishing of their next book, which is about Chattris...Hindu Funerary Memorials. And it was Ann who led us on tours of the Umaid Bhawan Palace and the Mehrangarh Fort Palace. I really had no idea at the time, that there was no-one in this world better prepared to lead such tours. The same may be said about the Suttee, which my father witnessed, along with Rani and Kishor. No westerner knows more about Suttee, or is more respectful of the act, than Ann Holmes. Again...it was a privilege to have Ann invite us to India at this time and to have her take four days of her valuable time showing us around Johpur and introducing us to special people who knew my father.

Yes there were elements of our travel experience that I would not want to share with Kathie, but in general the trip was fabulous...and mission accomplished. The full report of our Indian Odyssey is available upon request.

Update on India. Ya'll seem surprised that I'm going to India. Could it be that I did not tell you? Shame on me!

I told you about meeting the author Ann Newton Holmes on-line after Kathie produced some wonderful images about the Palaces of Jodhpur. That got me motivated. After the initial contact with Ann she had a tough time last fall. Her husband died of a heart attack, but by Christmas she was making plans again. She told me that she would be in Jodhpur from February 19 to March 3 this year...and invited me to meet the woman whom my dad referred to as the Rani Sahib of Jodhpur. She was the wife of the Maharaja...and my dad's boss. She is now 81 years of age, and according to Ann, still elegant and beautiful. Ann offered to introduce us and said that there were other members of the family who might remember my dad. So the time was NOW!

Kathie would not go; her first and only experience in India in 1965 was not good. If this trip works out she may consider it in the future...I'm on the reconaissance team. I've had quite a few women accept my invitation to take them to India...but Wisdom interfered (Wisdom is a woman you know...according to King Solomon). So I invited Andy...he's good company...and he's great at the "fly free" game. IE He's hard to beat.

So plans were moving forward fo a Feb 17 departure, when we discovered that we needed Visas to enter India. To compound that oversight, it seemed that it might take two weeks to get me a Visa since I am not a natural born citizen. So here I am today in San Francisco, taking a chance on a one-day turn-around for in-person applicants. I flew in last night, on stand-by, without any trouble. Although we had appointments for 9:40 AM and 10:40 AM I arrived early and was out of the Visa office by 9:30 AM, with invitations to pick up the Visas at 5:30 PM.

One of the strange requirements, was that one arrive at the Visa office with nothing but the application forms...no baggage...not even a cell phone. Have you ever been to a big city lately without a cell phone...makes one feel naked almost. So I was stuck in down-town San Francisco from 9:30 Am to 5:30 PM. I thought I should make the most of it...and started walking...all the way down Mission Street to the water...then along the piers past Fisherman's wharf. There were not many people down-town. I guess that's because it is a federal holiday and most people in San Francisco work for the government. Actually, the cab driver told me that the traffic was only 25% of normal because 1. It was a federal holiday and 50% of the people work for the government and, 2. 50% of the 50% who work in the private sector have lost their jobs. You do the math.

So it was all good...the sun broke through the fog and the tall city buildings were incredible...beautiful with their rooftops in the fog. San Francisco really is a great city. But while my enthusism did not wane, my body is not what it used to be. At one point I just stopped and thought "I can't take another bloody step." And right then a taxi pulled up to drop someone off, right in front of me. The driver said "Need a ride?" So I got in and he drove me back to the hotel where I had left my bag...and cell phone.

His name was MO. He was Jordanian born...married to a woman from Brisbane...interesting fellow. We hit it off. I asked Mo if he could pick me up and take me back into the Visa office. But I had the same problem...no baggage or even a cell phone allowed. I called Mo and explained the problem.

My Own Self

I had been looking for a file containing photographs of my father for a couple of years. I had searched and searched without success. But I found it this morning in the basement store room. It was in a box of photos which belonged to mother and Henry. I was ecstatic.

In the box was a letter which I had written to mother on February 8, 1989. I'm not sure why she saved it, but that was just before she got reconnected with Henry Sipple. There was a section in the letter about Jeff and Andy...both then missing front teeth...and Andy wearing glasses and feeling pretty cool about it too. That was followed by a story which is now part of Wegener family lore ...and since it was recorded shortly after the occurrence, we may assume that it is the most accurate account. I will copy it here for posterity...it is priceless.

Jeff and I had a battle at the dinner table recently...he would not eat his dinner...worked himself up into such a state that he finally threw up. In the heat of battle, he looked at me and said..."How come you are so mean to me? Why do you have to boss me around? Why can't you let me be my own self?

This kid is only six years old!

A little later, while I was talking with him in his bedroom, he explained that ..."Sometimes I feel lonely...like nobody loves me". We talked about this because he is the MOST LOVED kid in the house...his brothers and sisters especially, give him an excess of attention and love. So I said "Sometimes your mom and dad like to know that you love us too." He sniffed and said..."Well I do...but it wears off.

And we have another 12-13 years to live with this bloke. He's a winner!

I think there is a message here. I have long thought that marriage and family life, is Father in Heaven's schoolroom on earth, to help bring us to Him and His Son. And it occurred to me that while children want to be loved, and adults want to be loved, our Father in Heaven might want to be loved also. And no-one deserves our love more than the Father and the Son.