Jonathan's Story; for his Collinsville PMmers
Jonathan of Indiana had some intense Personal message exchanges with some of my detractors in Collinsville over the last couple years. They were wrong in what they told him half truths and bogus analysis, but he listened anyway.
How sad.
In any case he has shared a remarkable story at bl.com and I thought I would share it here on my blog. The locals may want to copy and spread it all over town like they have in time past; out of context that suits their political agenda.
Jonathan's story:
It was just another Thursday in China's industrial heartland. The place where most of the electronics you purchase is made, where most of your name brand athletic clothing is stitched, where most of the plastic, ceramic, and flat wear used in your local diner is produced (this is also where much of the rest of the world's lead based paint is used, where a great deal of the illegal and dangerous substances have been added to a number of consumer products over the years...to varying degrees of injury and death of the end users). And it is where some of the world's most well equipped labs that have been built for the sole purpose of producing the latest of each generation of performance enhancing nutritional substances that will likely be banned after the next Olympic games. In other words, if it can be made, it is likely made within an hour or two of where I was yesterday.After another long 12 hours at the factory and another hour in the daily conference call, I'd had enough...not just of the day, but of the trips (I'd lost count...how many hundred of nights spent here without my beloved family? How many months of my children's lives have I missed?), the job (Is it me, or have I gotten too good at the wrong job?), the constant battle inside (and outside) the plant....and, I was hungry.As a rule, I avoid fast food. But this evening, I was hungry but was not in the mood for the usual sit down presentation that is the standard for the common Chinese joint. So, I stepped out to grab something from a KFC. My mind was full of grumbling (first about my job, then about length of the trip, then about how sore my neck was, pretty much a self-centered pity party). Around here, when darkness falls, folks gather on the street, trinket sellers spread out their wares, prostitutes work their corners, food booths open...and beggars are everywhere. As compassionate as I like to think I am, I tend to get a bit bored and irritated at the hassle, and started to walk a bit more quickly. As I passed a group of beggars, I noticed a man playing one of those roll up keyboards and sitting beside him, was a young boy who I guessed, was his son. I've learned not to look or stare lest I draw a crowd of hands, cups, and bowls in my face, so I walked on to get some chicken. After getting the glorious chicken wrap and a Coke Zero, I made my way out of the restaurant. Immediately, I noticed that the music had stopped. The man (who may have been the boy's grandfather...he looked quite old), was leaning over to the boy, who was leaning back towards the man. I took a closer look. The man's legs were in no condition to walk and all of the boy's limbs were misshapen to such a degree that I doubt that he was able to care for himself. But the smiles on both their faces were amazing. The man's smile was the one of the loving parent, the boy's was one of the content and secure child. So what was the man doing that was so important that he needed to stop playing his keyboard? I looked closer...the man was using a small piece of cloth and was, very carefully and lovingly, clearing the dirt and sweat from the eyes of his son...or at least where the son's eyes were supposed to have been. The boy's left eye socket was empty and his right eye was completely pale. But that smile!..almost a laughing grin. I had stood there for far too long. The man turned towards me and smiled briefly and then returned his attention to his boy.
I walked on, back toward the hotel in which I had spent more than 500 nights since my first trip here, called my wife, told her the story and we both cried.Then, my wife said, "Be sure to make a Skype video call when you wake up...your son wants to see you." Yeah, I wanted to see him too...
How sad.
In any case he has shared a remarkable story at bl.com and I thought I would share it here on my blog. The locals may want to copy and spread it all over town like they have in time past; out of context that suits their political agenda.
Jonathan's story:
It was just another Thursday in China's industrial heartland. The place where most of the electronics you purchase is made, where most of your name brand athletic clothing is stitched, where most of the plastic, ceramic, and flat wear used in your local diner is produced (this is also where much of the rest of the world's lead based paint is used, where a great deal of the illegal and dangerous substances have been added to a number of consumer products over the years...to varying degrees of injury and death of the end users). And it is where some of the world's most well equipped labs that have been built for the sole purpose of producing the latest of each generation of performance enhancing nutritional substances that will likely be banned after the next Olympic games. In other words, if it can be made, it is likely made within an hour or two of where I was yesterday.After another long 12 hours at the factory and another hour in the daily conference call, I'd had enough...not just of the day, but of the trips (I'd lost count...how many hundred of nights spent here without my beloved family? How many months of my children's lives have I missed?), the job (Is it me, or have I gotten too good at the wrong job?), the constant battle inside (and outside) the plant....and, I was hungry.As a rule, I avoid fast food. But this evening, I was hungry but was not in the mood for the usual sit down presentation that is the standard for the common Chinese joint. So, I stepped out to grab something from a KFC. My mind was full of grumbling (first about my job, then about length of the trip, then about how sore my neck was, pretty much a self-centered pity party). Around here, when darkness falls, folks gather on the street, trinket sellers spread out their wares, prostitutes work their corners, food booths open...and beggars are everywhere. As compassionate as I like to think I am, I tend to get a bit bored and irritated at the hassle, and started to walk a bit more quickly. As I passed a group of beggars, I noticed a man playing one of those roll up keyboards and sitting beside him, was a young boy who I guessed, was his son. I've learned not to look or stare lest I draw a crowd of hands, cups, and bowls in my face, so I walked on to get some chicken. After getting the glorious chicken wrap and a Coke Zero, I made my way out of the restaurant. Immediately, I noticed that the music had stopped. The man (who may have been the boy's grandfather...he looked quite old), was leaning over to the boy, who was leaning back towards the man. I took a closer look. The man's legs were in no condition to walk and all of the boy's limbs were misshapen to such a degree that I doubt that he was able to care for himself. But the smiles on both their faces were amazing. The man's smile was the one of the loving parent, the boy's was one of the content and secure child. So what was the man doing that was so important that he needed to stop playing his keyboard? I looked closer...the man was using a small piece of cloth and was, very carefully and lovingly, clearing the dirt and sweat from the eyes of his son...or at least where the son's eyes were supposed to have been. The boy's left eye socket was empty and his right eye was completely pale. But that smile!..almost a laughing grin. I had stood there for far too long. The man turned towards me and smiled briefly and then returned his attention to his boy.
I walked on, back toward the hotel in which I had spent more than 500 nights since my first trip here, called my wife, told her the story and we both cried.Then, my wife said, "Be sure to make a Skype video call when you wake up...your son wants to see you." Yeah, I wanted to see him too...
posted by foxofbama | 12:20 PM
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