James M. Redwine

Black Sea

Predictions

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Happy New Year! Photo by Peg Redwine

It is the new year, a time when we humans have often either savored our accomplishments, reflected on our regrets, dreamed of our hopes or dreaded our fears. The new year has long been a time when people of many cultures have analyzed the past and predicted the future. As Yogi Berra might have said, the future is hard to predict. However, that has never stopped us from trying. As for me, I find regretting the past only makes it more regrettable and dreading the unknown future only leads to self-fulfilling prophecies. On the other hand, attempting to predict the as yet uncontrollable events ahead will probably do little harm as the world will ignore us anyway. Ergo, I will boldly, if ignorantly, publish a few of my predictions as my experience has been hardly anyone will pay attention so no harm will result.

First, I will not lose weight nor exercise more unless an increasing frequency of nighttime bathroom trips qualifies. Nor will I read the many potentially life-altering books I have in my library. Second, I will not help Peg more around the house nor spend less money on chips and dip and less time in front of the telly. Third, none of my complaints about any public officials will result in any constructive impacts as, first of all they will not be read and secondly none of the officials will think they need to make any changes.

When it comes to generic suggestions, such as I and many others have been making for many years, our state and federal governments may take umbrage, if they even take notice, but not one of our calls for peace in the Middle East or anywhere else will be heeded. In fact, I predict our national leaders will swallow the false intelligence once again fed to us by Israel, such as “weapons of mass destruction”, and we will support a war against Iran as we enable Israel’s theft and destruction of Palestine and Syria.

I do predict Ukraine’s invasion by Russia will finally reach a stalemate on the terms I predicted just after it began three years ago; and, after we have expended billions of our treasure. Russia will stop in return for a permanent seizure of Crimea that they have occupied since 2014 and the permanent occupation of a substantial portion of Ukraine east of the Dnipro River with Ukraine to maintain its ownership and control over the port of Odessa on the Black Sea. I further predict Russia will not help rebuild Ukraine, but America will to the tune of many more billions of our dollars.

Well, Gentle Reader, I suppose you can tell why I find predictions of the future as unhelpful as Yogi might have. I do have many more fears and hopes relating to our fragile globe’s future, but I find the concentration upon them debilitating. And, as it is the new year, I will just succumb to muddling on through 2025. “Happy” New Year to you all.

Merry Christmases!!

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Batumi, Georgia. Photo by Peg Redwine

Last year (2022-2023) Peg and I were in the country of Georgia on Christmas Day (December 25th). However, when we wished some of our Georgian friends “Merry Christmas”, they said as Coach Lee Corso might have said, “Not so fast”. Many Christians in that one-time Soviet Union country do not adhere to Pope Julius’ date for Jesus’ birthday as December 25, but also celebrate the Gregorian date in 2023 of January 07. Many Georgians recognize both dates and the “Christmas Season” for many others runs from December 25 of one year through the first week of January of the next.

The beautiful city of Batumi, Georgia where we worked for six months with Georgian judges was right on the Black Sea and was decorated with colored lights and yuletide trees. The streets were filled with festive shoppers and frequent carolers for two weeks as our Georgian friends showered us with home-grown wines and baklava; I was pleased to see the Christians championing the marvelous Muslim delicacies as a Christmas tradition.

Pope Julian I’s term was 337 to 352 and Pope Gregory’s was 540 to 604. They both instituted a calendar with Julian’s arbitrary date of December 25 for Christ’s birth not being contested by Gregory, but due to the new method of calculating days of the year, the date for Christmas migrated to January 7. If you are fascinated by the vagaries of how this all worked, you probably need to get out more. All Peg and I cared about was after years of only having one Christmas we now had two with Advent gaining about another two weeks. I hope Santa Claus can keep up in 2023/2024.

I have already let it be known that I am expecting gifts on both December 25, 2023 and January 7, 2024. Also, I hope that with the expansion of the Holiday Season the NCAA will finally open up the bowl season for all college football teams, not just those who have won 6 games or more. We only have 43 college football bowl games involving 86 schools now. So, if we let the other 46 or so Division I colleges play we could have another 23 bowl games between December 25 and January 07. It would certainly be better than having to watch the national news. Besides, my alma mater, Indiana University, would get to play a bowl game then.

Anyway, Peg and I say to our Georgian friends (and also to our American friends), Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night, good night!

A Selfie in Batumi, Georgia

The American Mantra

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From “The Veranda” @ JPeg Osage Ranch. Photo by Peg Redwine

Peg and I got back to “The Osage”, Osage County, Oklahoma, USA on 26 February 2023 after a trip of two days from the one-time Soviet Union Republic of Georgia that is bordered by Russia and Turkey and lies directly across the Black Sea from Ukraine, that, also, was a former member of the Soviet Union. Georgia has a population of about four million, almost every one of whom we met yearned to come to the USA and every one of whom was insatiably curious about, “What makes America, America.” The Georgian judges we worked with from June 2022 to April 2023 unfailingly asked me “How do American judges do …?”

I was sent to Georgia by the United States Agency for International Development, the American Bar Association and the East-West Management Institute because I have been on the faculty of the National Judicial College (NJC) since 1995 teaching other judges from the United States and several foreign countries. I have designed and taught courses on judging to judges, lawyers and court administrators from Palestine (1996), in Ukraine (1999-2000), in Russia (2003) and in Georgia (2022-2023) as well as judges from other countries when they attend courses at the NJC.

My unsurprising conclusion from ten years of practicing law and forty-three years of judging is lawyers and judges and the citizens who must look to us for justice are pretty much the same everywhere. Most people are good most of the time, most people are bad some of the time and everyone everywhere wants to know why the USA is a beacon to the world. That is what I have been asked to report on during a series of debriefings concerning our mission to Georgia.

In other words, even we Americans spend a great deal of time cogitating on what makes American judges different from foreign judges. I have certainly invested a lot of years in this quest and today during a Zoom meeting with experts from Georgia and America I plan to offer my analysis. For such a complex and important subject my thoughts synthesize to a rather pedestrian mantra:

With all the judiciaries from other countries it has been my pleasure and privilege to know and work with, my perception is they believe that unless there is a specific, written law that authorizes them to take a particular action, even if they know it is the right and just thing to do, they cannot ethically and legally do so and, therefore, they refuse to act.

Whereas judges from the United States believe that unless there is a specific, written law that prohibits the judge from taking a bold, just and fair action in a case, the judge will take the action even if there is no law that specifically allows it.

This mantra is deep within America’s judicial psyche. Some, when they disagree with a judge’s imaginative decision, might criticize it as “judicial activism”. Of course, when they agree with the decision, they call it “wisdom”. But if one wants to define the bright-line difference in what other countries yearn for and what America’s judges are admired for it is just this, Judicial Independence!

This general philosophy falls within what that great American dreamer Robert Kennedy called his mantra:

“Some people see things as they are and ask, Why? I see things as they should be and ask, Why not?”

So, after 8 months of responding to my Georgian friends’ incessant curiosity of what makes America and its legal system the hope of many other countries, I point out it is not for nothing the most recognized symbol of America is The Statue of LIBERTY (that is, the freedom to do the right thing)!

It Was A Blast

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Photo by Peg Redwine

Peg and I will leave Batumi, Georgia this Saturday, 25 February 2023. We will fly through Istanbul, Turkey then on to Chicago and Tulsa where our good friends Doug and Marcia Givens will pick us up at the airport; thank you, old friends!

Doug and I have been friends since the first grade at Franklin Elementary School in Pawhuska, Oklahoma. For some reason neither of us could ever recall, Doug and I fought every day after school at the same location on our mutual routes home during first grade. As we both always wore a white T-shirt every day, we went through several shirts apiece until the good sense of our mothers intervened and peace was declared upon us.

Photo by Peg Redwine

Doug and I got along fine and were close friends through the rest of our schooling together and went our separate ways for 50 years after high school. Apparently, each of us cogitated on the basis of our 6-year-old belligerence from time to time as the first thing we said to one another at our Pawhuska High School 50th Reunion in 2011 was, “What were we fighting about?” We still don’t know. However, I am glad whatever it was faded into the recesses of first grader myth as we have been good friends ever since and Peg and I really need a ride home from the Tulsa airport.

Another mystery that has arisen is why we are being “mined” by someone just 3 miles from our apartment on the shore of the Black Sea. You probably are aware, Gentle Reader, that the country of Georgia as well as the countries of Ukraine, Russia and Turkey are arrayed around the Black Sea. I assume you are aware that someone, maybe several someones, are casting explosive sea mines into the Black Sea to discourage shipping.

Photo by Peg Redwine

Now, Peg and I are not angry with anyone in Georgia or Ukraine and our visit to Turkey was both pleasant and educational. Well, we did have to fend off several aggressive rug merchants, but no violence occurred. So, my “usual suspect” is Russia cast the sea mines adrift and one exploded near us. Does this mean we get combat pay?

Peg has included the website address so that you can see the photograph of the exploding sea mine. As mentioned, we were 3 miles away and totally unaware of any danger. Still, just as the non-existent reasons behind the fist fights between Doug and me, I do wonder what Peg and I ever did to provoke Putin. (https://www.yahoo.com/entertainment/sea-mine-explodes-off-georgia-111500226.html

Photo by Peg Redwine

I guess what we’ll do when we touch the hollowed soil of Osage County, Oklahoma is send Mr. Putin a letter and ask him why he’s upset with us. If he’ll just let us know what sins and transgressions we have committed against him, we’ll be glad to repent. It’s preferable to explosions encroaching on our reverie and upsetting the neighbors’ cattle and horses.

JPeg Osage Ranch Gate. Photo by Peg Redwine

A Christmas Gift From Peg

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Photo by Peg Redwine

Everyone we meet in the country of Georgia likes Peg. When we walk along the cobblestone streets or eat at one of the small and numerous restaurants Peg is frequently approached by complete strangers speaking a foreign language who manage to convey their goodwill toward her as they ignore me. I am used to it. I get it. I accept it. But the world does not know that Peg has a dark side that often involves misadventure for me.

I first noticed it years ago when we would go skiing and Peg would sweetly say something like, “Jim, that ski run really looks interesting. Why don’t you ski down first, then I can follow you?” I fell for this ploy several times and paid the price. She, of course, never followed after she would see me wipe out as she feigned concern while secretly chortling at my naïveté.

My misogynistic side wonders if Peg’s enjoyment of my misfortunes is unique to her or if it is a more general wifely trait. Those of you who are involved in the connubial bliss of marriage can reflect for yourselves if the sweet-wife-turned-devious-Delilah is universal or just my lot in life.

Anyway, yesterday was the latest example of Peg lulling me into trying something foolish while she remained the amused spectator. It all began when we were discussing what we would give one another for Christmas.

I confess I am not an easy person to shop for. When I want a shirt or something to eat, I go buy it. I really like Christmas but I am not into the buying and getting part of it. The country of Georgia is good for the Christmas Season as many Georgians celebrate the Julian calendar Christmas Day of December 25th and many recognize the Gregorian calendar of January 7th. I like that approach. Peg and I have stayed with America’s December 25th so she gave me my “gift” yesterday as the weather was good. Weather good you say? Here’s why that mattered.

Photo by Peg Redwine

For the four months we have spent in Georgia we have watched boats dash around hauling fools attached by a long cable and held up by parachutes. These gaily decorated parachutes lull observers into ignoring the perils of falling a hundred feet into the chilly waters of the salty Black Sea. It looked like harmless fun from the safety of our apartment’s balcony. And that’s how Peg sold me on it as she would make comments like, “Jim, look at that guy under the parachute with the smiley face. Doesn’t that look like fun? You would really enjoy that.”

So after I had firmly resisted her repeated efforts to have me succumb to such nonsense for several months, Peg said, “You’re so hard to buy for. How about a parasail ride for your Christmas gift. It will be fun!” I had an initial thought that “one husband’s fun” was likely to be “one wife’s insurance benefit collection”, but I held my silence. And, as often happens with us, I forgot the various disasters for me that Peg’s innocent suggestions had wrought. I said, “Okay, thank you for my Christmas present, let’s go do it.” We went down to the dock and met a Fagin selling rides.

The wizened visage of the toothless boat captain astride his version of a motor boat did not alert me to my fate. That was my fault. I did not see or ask about any safety equipment. That was also my fault. There were no rehearsals or explanations of how this would transpire or what the precautions were for mishaps. Of course, he spoke only Georgian so it would not have mattered anyway.

The Ancient Mariner took Peg’s 150 lari (about $50.00) and strapped me into an apparatus of cords and buckles. There was no escape button. We got about one hundred yards out on the Black Sea then the captain began to let out the cable attached to the smily-faced parachute and me. I quickly was lifted off the deck into a panoramic view of the shore and the Sea. I admit, it was a thrill.

We rode around for about fifteen minutes, the advertised length of the ride, then we continued to bounce along the choppy waves for quite a while as I slowly realized something had gone terribly wrong. The captain could not get the cable to crank me back in. I remained in the harness one hundred feet above the Black Sea as the December wind swirled around me.

After thirty minutes another small boat with two young roustabouts who were disciples of Captain Fagin came along hoisting a long line with a hook attached. They made several attempts to hook my cable and finally did. Then they started hauling me down between the two boats. You, Gentle Reader, understand that the only thing between the boats was the cold, deep Black Sea into which I was thrust face first still attached to the parachute that was rapidly filling with water.

Photo by Peg Redwine

After noting the water was salty, I began to attempt to escape both my harness and the parachute, but the cords were wrapped tightly around both of my legs so I could not swim. My loyal captain did not jump into the Sea to rescue me and neither did the two faux sailors. I guess they all did not wish to get wet. Anyway, I managed to roll onto my back as the would-be dry, rescuers fished me out with a grappling hook type approach but using mainly their hands.

When we got back to shore I was soaked and cold but soothingly comforted by Peg who had filmed the whole episode on her iPhone as she sat warm and dry in the boat. She said the only thing that made sense, “Well, Merry Christmas.”

 

The U.S.S.R. Revisited

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Photo by Peg Redwine

In Batumi, Georgia there are many Ukrainian flags flying and the blue and yellow colors of Ukraine are displayed in shops, on cars and even whole sides of buildings. Georgians relate to, understand and support Ukraine that has a border along the Black Sea as do Georgia and Russia.

The Black Sea is an important shipping water and leads ultimately to the Mediterranean Sea and therefore the whole world economy. Just as the Black Sea port of Odesa is critical for Ukraine to access the Black Sea, directly across the Black Sea is the equally vital port city of Batumi, Georgia where Peg and I are living. We look out from our apartment’s balcony across the Black Sea and often wonder if Russia will invade Georgia as it has before. In fact, Russia’s military currently occupies 20% of Georgia.

Peg and I drove within a few kilometers of part of the Georgian territory claimed by Russia when we traveled from the capital of Georgia, Tbilisi, to our judicial duty station in Batumi. We were warned to not try to get near the Russian military installation as Russia considers that a part of Russia, much as it does Ukraine’s Crimean area. And with our American passports, we might become fair game for a Gulag. Just ask Brittney Griner.

Photo by Peg Redwine

As I am writing this column on Sunday morning, December 04 (our son’s birthday, by the way) I am looking out our 17th floor window at merchant ships on the Black Sea. One of the ships has two large metal tanks that occupy almost the entire length of the ship and appear to be equipped to haul natural gas. Many of the ships that go by us are loaded with semi-trailers. Batumi has little in the way of exports except wine; Georgia claims to be the 8,000 year old birthplace of wine. However, as this is both a port city and a warm water tourist destination, a great deal of grain and manufactured materials are imported to Batumi. The concern, of course, is that Georgia with its 37,000 man military would be a mere nuisance if Russia and its million man army decided this port is an attractive excuse to re-claim all of Georgia as part of the historical Russia. After all, Stalin was born in Gori, Georgia and even attended the Tbilisi Spiritual Seminary. Since Stalin was history’s greatest butcher of human beings and presided over the Soviet Union (U.S.S.R.) for over 25 years, the concerns of Georgians do not seem unreasonable.

Speaking of the U.S.S.R., the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, I am currently reading a book that cites stories from Georgian persons who lived under the Soviet Union. The book contains 70 stories, one for each of the 70 years the U.S.S.R. existed, and was compiled by editor Buba Kudava. In his forward to the book, Kudava addresses the U.S.S.R. name:

“Until only recently, Georgia was part of a country whose falsity began with its very name. The Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, as it was called in full. Four assertions, and all four of them lies!

How, after all, could the term “union” be applied to a group of territories brought together without their consent, through fear and violence, and held together through force of arms? How could the descriptor “soviet” be used when no true “councils” were consulted and no true counsel sought? How could rampant totalitarianism be described as “socialist”? And how could any of the “union’s” 15 sham “republics” be deemed worthy of that name, with all of its associated high ideals?

Four assertions, and the same number of falsehoods.”

Life in Soviet Georgia, ISBN 978-9941-487-64-4 (2021), p. 7

Literature often tells us more than news reports about what actually happened to people and how it felt to those affected by the events. The stories from this book strike me as valid observations of where Russia truly stands when it comes to Ukraine and Georgia and maybe the other thirteen “Republics” of the old U.S.S.R. I understand why Georgians stand with Ukrainians.