First, for those of you that read last week’s column, where I left the keys to the van in my classroom, I had to share this with you. Eventually one of the cheerleaders got fed up and went into my room to help look for the keys.
She returned to the van, keys in hand, which she had found underneath someone’s pom-pon.
“Typical man,” she said, “men don’t know how to look for things!”
Now this week, I thought I’d share a conversation I recently had with a former student of mine from L.A. Chris Freet now works in the PR dept at the University of Oklahoma Athletic Dept. These were two emails, not an instant messenger chat- I hate those things, but I present it to you here in transcript form just because I thought it would be easier to follow.
Chris: I am enjoying the regular conversation.
Ted: Me too, I’m sorry it’s taken more than a week to get back to you. Monster case of bronchitis took me out one day and the rest of the week has been a bear.
Chris: I will prompt with two questions for the next one. Is Bush going to be reelected?
Ted:There’s nothing money can’t buy. Let’s see, the Republicans hated Clinton so much that after 6 or 7 years of not proving any Whitewater wrongdoing, they tried to impeach him for philandering. Then, when they lost the popular election in 2000, they had the predominantly Republican Supreme Court decide. What do you think?
Okay, I’ll get off of the “vast conservative conspiracy” trip for a minute. Seriously, I think it will be tight, just like last time, but I do think he’s vulnerable. You’re dissatisfaction is evidence. You and I are the biggest swing vote. White, male, working-class, rural or Southern. They call our demographic “the NASCAR vote.” But, unless Jesse” the Body” Venture throws his hat into the ring it comes down to five of the “ten little Indians.”
General Wes Clark, Southern (but not too Southern), a decorated vet, offers the most macho alternative. Good choice for Sec. of State or Defense if he doesn’t go all the way and Bush loses.
FLA Sen. Grahm, from right down in Bush Bro country, has gone so far as to sponsor a NASCAR pickup truck. How’s that for appealing to those with red necks, white socks, and blue collar jobs? But, most Americans hate Florida almost as much as we hate California and New York, don’t we?
NC Sen. John Edwards, young, dashing, espousing idealistic but impractical rhetoric about NAFTA and manufacturing jobs. Look for him to run again and again and again if Bush gets re-elected. Hey did I tell you I actually met him last week? I’ll have to send you a copy of the column I wrote about it.
MO Rep. Dick Gebhardt, tearing a page out of the Gore playbook is putting on the “pissed off middle class white guy” routine. He’s the most traditional center-left, healthcare and insurance for everybody Democrat. I predict a strong third for the nomination, look for a cabinet job if a Dem gets in.
And of course, Vermont Gov. Dr. Howard Dean, MD. Still the Democratic front runner. Savy, speaks his mind, not the party line, great money maker. He even looks a little like John McCain. He can take Bush, he’s a helluva lot smarter, but doesn’t come off as a boring egg head like Gore and Bill Bradley did. However, folks like your sister and brother-in-law and parents won’t like his positions on homosexuals and abortion. Other weaknesses include his wife. She’s no beauty pageant winner but more importantly, she’s a doctor too and plans to keep her practice if Dean’s elected. Too real, too strong, to independent for stay-at-home-barefoot-and-pregnant hyper conservatives.
Besides, Liberal former governor of a small New England state with a doctor wife- sounds an awful lot like NBC’s the West Wing. But ever since I saw him as JFK in “Missiles of October” in Government class in high school, I thought Martin Sheen would make a great President. Will life imitate art?
Chris: And Should Eric Gagne win the Cy Young?
Ted: He hasn’t done too well against Arizona this year, but anyone with a 1.27 ERA deserves a look. Obviously the Diamondback Dou (Schilling & Johnson) isn’t in the running this year. But Kevin Brown was always my (least) favorite Dodger. Which do you think I follow more closely, politics or baseball?
Thursday, September 25, 2003
Thursday, September 11, 2003
Patriot’s Day
“Patriotism;” Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines it simply as “love for or devotion to one's country.” Oddly enough, they date it’s creation as 1726, just fifty years before our country came into being. “Patriot is an older word, 1605. It’s taken from the Greek roots for Patriarch, as in your fathers. Webster’s defines a patriot as “one who loves his or her country and supports its authority and interests”
The question is, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
The Boys Scouts of America taught me to love you less than God and almost as much as my immediate family.
What are you? Who are you?
Is a country a place? I love your terrain. I love your panoramic views, your horizons and highways. I love the searing heat of my native Arizona and the cool, damp, subtropical sea breezes of the California coast. I love the aroma of pine trees in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I love the dramatic landscapes of Colorado, the serenity of Wyoming and New Mexico. I love the chilly waters and pebbly shores of the great lakes in Michigan. And I’ve sure come to love the rolling hills of Iowa that seem to embrace you and the aromas that come from the fields when the corn and soybeans are ready to be harvested.
Is a country a political entity? I’d have to admit to having a love-hate relationship with you then. Sometimes I feel like I’m the rebellious teenager, other times I feel like you’re the impetuous, sometimes annoying child and I’m the exhausted parent. Why can’t we always see eye to eye?
As much as I HATE to admit it, there have been times that I’ve been embarrassed to claim you. Like when your own people were enslaved or hanging from your trees, or when thousands of them were cut down in one day in Oklahoma City, not by outsiders, but by one of your own. Or when we are millions are never born because others think of them as decisions, rather than as people. Or when I reflect upon how much how few of us horde and consume while so many others starve and suffer. There have been so many times when your way was not the right way.
But, there are other times when I couldn’t be more proud of you. Like how much how many suffered and sacrificed for others on this awful day two years ago. When I think of how much how many suffered and sacrificed to literally save the world sixty years ago when evil incarnate walked the earth. There have been so many times, so many times when your way has been the most right way, when you led the way, even when others refused to follow.
Is a country songs and colors? Pomp and ceremony? Is a country the sum of it’s symbols? I love red, white and blue. Your anthems bring a lump to my throat, even more since this awful day two years ago. But while I venerate your flag, I will not bring my self to worship it. In the end it is only cloth and ink. Rather, we should “fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
It is not the red of thirteen stripes of a banner, it is the red of the life blood of your patriots that matters. Deep in the ground of Lexington and Anteitem, of Normandy and Sicily and Glaudal Cannal, and yes, of Manhattan.
What is a country? Is a country a system? Laws and processes and precedents? Is it a shared ethos? A morality, founded on God’s eternal laws?
I love that you still work. Through abuse and corruption, investigations and scandals, swings of the pendulum, the system that is America still works.
I love that you promise me that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
So that no denomination is corrupted by the power of being your “official” religion. So that I can seek God as I understand Him and as He reveals Himself to me in His Word. Even if that means that false religions are free to flourish here too.
So that I can speak my mind without being jailed or fined or murdered or persecuted.
So that people can read this.
So that we can gather peaceably for social, political, or religious reasons. So that thousands could gather in 1963 to hear a black preacher with a dream.
So that we can complain about you, complain to you, and “throw the bums out.”
Is a country a people? We are so many. So different. So imperfect. So angry with each other, so disrespectful of each other, so selfish. So human.
So warm, so giving, so caring, so committed, so daring, so intelligent, so powerful, so patient, so helpful, so important, so united. So sewn together not by race, not by creed or color, not by language, not by song or culture, but by choice, by commitment, by conviction, by country.
I love you to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach. I promise to do my best to do my duty to God and my country. I’ll help, I’ll give, I’ll vote, I’ll volunteer, I’ll hope, I’ll continue to believe in you.
I’ll pray for you.
I’ll remember.
I’ll remember all my fellow patriots who were lost this awful day two years ago.
I’ll remember, will you?
The question is, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
The Boys Scouts of America taught me to love you less than God and almost as much as my immediate family.
What are you? Who are you?
Is a country a place? I love your terrain. I love your panoramic views, your horizons and highways. I love the searing heat of my native Arizona and the cool, damp, subtropical sea breezes of the California coast. I love the aroma of pine trees in the Black Hills of South Dakota. I love the dramatic landscapes of Colorado, the serenity of Wyoming and New Mexico. I love the chilly waters and pebbly shores of the great lakes in Michigan. And I’ve sure come to love the rolling hills of Iowa that seem to embrace you and the aromas that come from the fields when the corn and soybeans are ready to be harvested.
Is a country a political entity? I’d have to admit to having a love-hate relationship with you then. Sometimes I feel like I’m the rebellious teenager, other times I feel like you’re the impetuous, sometimes annoying child and I’m the exhausted parent. Why can’t we always see eye to eye?
As much as I HATE to admit it, there have been times that I’ve been embarrassed to claim you. Like when your own people were enslaved or hanging from your trees, or when thousands of them were cut down in one day in Oklahoma City, not by outsiders, but by one of your own. Or when we are millions are never born because others think of them as decisions, rather than as people. Or when I reflect upon how much how few of us horde and consume while so many others starve and suffer. There have been so many times when your way was not the right way.
But, there are other times when I couldn’t be more proud of you. Like how much how many suffered and sacrificed for others on this awful day two years ago. When I think of how much how many suffered and sacrificed to literally save the world sixty years ago when evil incarnate walked the earth. There have been so many times, so many times when your way has been the most right way, when you led the way, even when others refused to follow.
Is a country songs and colors? Pomp and ceremony? Is a country the sum of it’s symbols? I love red, white and blue. Your anthems bring a lump to my throat, even more since this awful day two years ago. But while I venerate your flag, I will not bring my self to worship it. In the end it is only cloth and ink. Rather, we should “fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
It is not the red of thirteen stripes of a banner, it is the red of the life blood of your patriots that matters. Deep in the ground of Lexington and Anteitem, of Normandy and Sicily and Glaudal Cannal, and yes, of Manhattan.
What is a country? Is a country a system? Laws and processes and precedents? Is it a shared ethos? A morality, founded on God’s eternal laws?
I love that you still work. Through abuse and corruption, investigations and scandals, swings of the pendulum, the system that is America still works.
I love that you promise me that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
So that no denomination is corrupted by the power of being your “official” religion. So that I can seek God as I understand Him and as He reveals Himself to me in His Word. Even if that means that false religions are free to flourish here too.
So that I can speak my mind without being jailed or fined or murdered or persecuted.
So that people can read this.
So that we can gather peaceably for social, political, or religious reasons. So that thousands could gather in 1963 to hear a black preacher with a dream.
So that we can complain about you, complain to you, and “throw the bums out.”
Is a country a people? We are so many. So different. So imperfect. So angry with each other, so disrespectful of each other, so selfish. So human.
So warm, so giving, so caring, so committed, so daring, so intelligent, so powerful, so patient, so helpful, so important, so united. So sewn together not by race, not by creed or color, not by language, not by song or culture, but by choice, by commitment, by conviction, by country.
I love you to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach. I promise to do my best to do my duty to God and my country. I’ll help, I’ll give, I’ll vote, I’ll volunteer, I’ll hope, I’ll continue to believe in you.
I’ll pray for you.
I’ll remember.
I’ll remember all my fellow patriots who were lost this awful day two years ago.
I’ll remember, will you?
Wednesday, September 10, 2003
Cousin Campout
I missed out on a rite of summer last weekend. The annual McCutcheon “Cousin Campout” at the St.Thomas Moore center. To be honest, we never really go to camp. We go on Sunday morning and stay for the worship service and lunch. This year we stayed home to make sure the LYF Contemporary Service went smoothly at St. John’s. Just as well since all four of us seem to have come down with winter colds.
One reason I’m disappointed that we missed it is that my father-in-law Allen’s aunts, Erma, Marylin , and Janette are some of the biggest fans of this column, and never fail to tell me so. That always feels great. Even if Janette thinks I’m becoming a Republican (God forbid- no offense intended Republican readers).
Mike and Marylin Schiltz and their crew are just about the best at coming to weddings and baptisms!
Something we can all learn about our families is in Deuteronomy 5:9-10; “…I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.”
It’s painfully obvious. Weight problems, alcoholism, child abuse, infidelity or incest, these are problems that are hereditary. Even things like smoking, credit card debt, gambling habits or dropping out of school are patterns that our children imitate.
All of us have skeletons in our closets and a few fruits and nuts hanging in our family trees. I’m not about to pretend that our family is any different. Be that as it may, I want to point out to you the wonderful promise of this Bible verse.
First of all, notice that all of the negative cycles can be broken. It may be difficult and painful, it may take “three or four generations,” but it can happen. They say it takes 21 days to make or break an exercise habit, one study claims that it takes two years to quit smoking, but it can be done. But look at the other half of the verse- God shows love “to a thousand generations” of those who love Him!
Twenty or more generations ago, back in the early seventeenth century Robert Peck decided to answer God’s call and became a pastor. Just a couple of generations later, John Alden and Priscilla Mullins came over on the HMS Mayflower, fell in love and made history. Seven generations later, one of their descendants, George Washington Bidlack settled in what became Crawford County, Iowa. He was a leading Republican in Iowa, but I don’t hold that against him. If Abe Lincoln had been president when I first registered to vote, I’d like to think I’d probably register GOP too.
One of his daughters, Ella, married John McCutcheon. Our daughter Ellen is named for my great aunt Ellen and for Ella McCutcheon. These McCutcheons are who the Cousin Campout is named for.
One of the most beautiful worship opportunities I’ve ever been a part of was last year, at the funeral of Julie (McCutcheon) Meyer. She’s one of Verl and Linda’s triplets from Dow City. She died of cancer, leaving a husband, Matt and a three year old son behind. She was my age. But I’m telling you, it was incredible what a legacy of faith she left behind and how many people’s lives she touched as a nurse and with the ministry she and Matt had to college kids at their church in Lincoln, Nebraska.
John and Ella McCutcheon’s daughter Grace, married a fella by the name of Art Samuelson. Grace was down right famous throughout Iowa as a stern but loving school teacher. Their love and faith impacted generations of their descendants too.
One thing they passed on is this corny tidbit; Art’s favorite hymn was “Amazing Grace” and Grace’s favorite was “How Great Thou Art.”
Our other Daughter, Grace, is named for Grace Samuelson.
All the folks at the McCutcheon Cousin Campout do all of the same things you probably do at your family reunions. We eat a pot-luck, we joke, we reminisce, we swim, we sweat, play cards, play games and even award door prizes. And we all have our family sins and problems, we’re no better than anybody else’s family.
But what I appreciate most about the Cousin Campout, is that at this family gathering they worship together. Different denominations, different generations sing praises to their Savior to tell Him how much they love Him, discuss how He has worked in their lives, and pray to thank Him for blessing their families for these many generations.
He loves you so much. He’d rather have you love Him than hate Him. Test Him and you’ll see Him bless your family for a thousand generations.
One reason I’m disappointed that we missed it is that my father-in-law Allen’s aunts, Erma, Marylin , and Janette are some of the biggest fans of this column, and never fail to tell me so. That always feels great. Even if Janette thinks I’m becoming a Republican (God forbid- no offense intended Republican readers).
Mike and Marylin Schiltz and their crew are just about the best at coming to weddings and baptisms!
Something we can all learn about our families is in Deuteronomy 5:9-10; “…I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments.”
It’s painfully obvious. Weight problems, alcoholism, child abuse, infidelity or incest, these are problems that are hereditary. Even things like smoking, credit card debt, gambling habits or dropping out of school are patterns that our children imitate.
All of us have skeletons in our closets and a few fruits and nuts hanging in our family trees. I’m not about to pretend that our family is any different. Be that as it may, I want to point out to you the wonderful promise of this Bible verse.
First of all, notice that all of the negative cycles can be broken. It may be difficult and painful, it may take “three or four generations,” but it can happen. They say it takes 21 days to make or break an exercise habit, one study claims that it takes two years to quit smoking, but it can be done. But look at the other half of the verse- God shows love “to a thousand generations” of those who love Him!
Twenty or more generations ago, back in the early seventeenth century Robert Peck decided to answer God’s call and became a pastor. Just a couple of generations later, John Alden and Priscilla Mullins came over on the HMS Mayflower, fell in love and made history. Seven generations later, one of their descendants, George Washington Bidlack settled in what became Crawford County, Iowa. He was a leading Republican in Iowa, but I don’t hold that against him. If Abe Lincoln had been president when I first registered to vote, I’d like to think I’d probably register GOP too.
One of his daughters, Ella, married John McCutcheon. Our daughter Ellen is named for my great aunt Ellen and for Ella McCutcheon. These McCutcheons are who the Cousin Campout is named for.
One of the most beautiful worship opportunities I’ve ever been a part of was last year, at the funeral of Julie (McCutcheon) Meyer. She’s one of Verl and Linda’s triplets from Dow City. She died of cancer, leaving a husband, Matt and a three year old son behind. She was my age. But I’m telling you, it was incredible what a legacy of faith she left behind and how many people’s lives she touched as a nurse and with the ministry she and Matt had to college kids at their church in Lincoln, Nebraska.
John and Ella McCutcheon’s daughter Grace, married a fella by the name of Art Samuelson. Grace was down right famous throughout Iowa as a stern but loving school teacher. Their love and faith impacted generations of their descendants too.
One thing they passed on is this corny tidbit; Art’s favorite hymn was “Amazing Grace” and Grace’s favorite was “How Great Thou Art.”
Our other Daughter, Grace, is named for Grace Samuelson.
All the folks at the McCutcheon Cousin Campout do all of the same things you probably do at your family reunions. We eat a pot-luck, we joke, we reminisce, we swim, we sweat, play cards, play games and even award door prizes. And we all have our family sins and problems, we’re no better than anybody else’s family.
But what I appreciate most about the Cousin Campout, is that at this family gathering they worship together. Different denominations, different generations sing praises to their Savior to tell Him how much they love Him, discuss how He has worked in their lives, and pray to thank Him for blessing their families for these many generations.
He loves you so much. He’d rather have you love Him than hate Him. Test Him and you’ll see Him bless your family for a thousand generations.
Thursday, September 04, 2003
Cheesy puns put ‘unity’ in ‘community'
by Theodore J. Chipmonk
I have to hand it to Rosie Lally and Lucia Lincoln. They've done it again. Last weekend's benefit production put on by the Charter Oak Shelter House Committee was a laugh riot.
But it was a whole lot more than funny, it was democracy in action and it was exactly the kind of thing that makes small towns so wonderful.
The show was everything it set out to be. How many Broadway plays can say that? Of course, what it set out to be was silly, cheesy, puny fun. This play was everything a small town ought to be, and everything you look for in a friend or neighbor- totally unpretentious, self effacing, and able to laugh at them self. That may be due, a great deal to Rosie and Lucia.
Ms. Lincon has been teaching, (or “coaching”) drama at Charter Oak-Ute High School long enough to have established herself as a community institution. There are some powerful values that seep into the way she writes, plans, produces and directs her plays. It’s pretty obvious that she very deliberately tries to include as many people as possible.
As a result, more people are exposed to the creative process than usual. That way, we take ownership for it, we respect it and it’s more important to us. That also means that more of us “get cultured.” More of us attend such a play than normally would.
Another result is that the creative process is exposed to more hands, more input. Rosie & Lucia know we’re not professional actors and enjoy our idiosyncrasies. Heck, they take advantage of our personality quirks. In the case of last weekend’s play, they took advantage of our names.
It’s gotta drive them crazy. Having so many people learning and rehearsing parts has to start feeling like herding cats. But they manage it like pros.
Some would argue that “too many cooks ruin the soup.” Maybe so and that may be a problem if you’re trying to make Viennese turtle soup with truffles, but if you want a good ol' jambalaya, the more input the better. Lincoln and Lally actually ask for input, encourage improvisation and solicit creativity. What results is something that reflects who we are as a town, and is more our voice than either of their voices alone.
I know it sounds hokey to compare a High School English teacher to Thomas Jefferson, but just like he was the principal author of the Declaration of Independence but it was really written by the whole Continental Congress and is historically considered to be an expression of “the American mind,” Lucia starts out writing a fun little play but it takes on a life of it’s own and it really represents Charter Oak and belongs to Charter Oak, more than to Lucia or Rosie or any one else.
When I married Bethany, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that I didn’t just marry her, I married into a family, what’s more, I didn’t just marry into a family, I married into a town. That’s a wonderful feeling, even if it was a little intimidating at first. A stereotype we city native have of small towns is that they’re exclusive, stodgy, and unwelcoming to outsiders. Charter Oak broke the stereotype for me. It has been warm, accepting, understanding and has enthusiastically made me feel like a welcomed member of the community.
When we’d first come back to visit from college or California, I’d have a hard time placing names with faces. Bethany told me that there aren’t TOO many names to remember. If you know Neddermeyer, Kuhlman, Meseck, and Staley, you know almost about everybody. Thanks to last weekend’s play, I can put a lot more faces with a lot more names.
Those are the kind of values that Lucia’s dramas and her directing style embody. As a fellow teacher, I watched her at play practice to see what kinds of “teacher” things she does. Immediately following practice she made an effort to touch base with everyone she could. She praised them for their performance, gently suggested things she’s like them to add or change and often noticed things they did on their own that she thought contributed to the play.
Lots of us may have moaned or even cringed when we were asked to be involved, but think about two things; First, one of our pastors in California said that if you want someone to become a member of a church, you should “give ‘em a job.” Active participation automatically creates commitment. Second, one of the great things for armatures (and high school students) about having a huge cast is that they’re all short, easy parts. Anyone is more apt to help if they aren’t overwhelmed by how much they have to do.
In other words, “Many hands make light the work.” Or as Red Green says on IPTV, “We’re all in this together.”
That’s what community is all about. That’s what participatory democracy is all about. Helping each other, enjoying each other’s camaraderie. As everybody knows, the family that plays together stays together. I think that that has to be every bit as important as businesses or a school. If we enjoy working together to help each other out, we’ll stay afloat. I’ll bet we’ll even improve our town some, like by being able to build a new shelter house down at the park.
It may have been a corny, cheesy line at the end of a corny, cheesy play, but we ought to thank Lucia and Rosie for “putting the UNITY back in COMMUNITY!
I have to hand it to Rosie Lally and Lucia Lincoln. They've done it again. Last weekend's benefit production put on by the Charter Oak Shelter House Committee was a laugh riot.
But it was a whole lot more than funny, it was democracy in action and it was exactly the kind of thing that makes small towns so wonderful.
The show was everything it set out to be. How many Broadway plays can say that? Of course, what it set out to be was silly, cheesy, puny fun. This play was everything a small town ought to be, and everything you look for in a friend or neighbor- totally unpretentious, self effacing, and able to laugh at them self. That may be due, a great deal to Rosie and Lucia.
Ms. Lincon has been teaching, (or “coaching”) drama at Charter Oak-Ute High School long enough to have established herself as a community institution. There are some powerful values that seep into the way she writes, plans, produces and directs her plays. It’s pretty obvious that she very deliberately tries to include as many people as possible.
As a result, more people are exposed to the creative process than usual. That way, we take ownership for it, we respect it and it’s more important to us. That also means that more of us “get cultured.” More of us attend such a play than normally would.
Another result is that the creative process is exposed to more hands, more input. Rosie & Lucia know we’re not professional actors and enjoy our idiosyncrasies. Heck, they take advantage of our personality quirks. In the case of last weekend’s play, they took advantage of our names.
It’s gotta drive them crazy. Having so many people learning and rehearsing parts has to start feeling like herding cats. But they manage it like pros.
Some would argue that “too many cooks ruin the soup.” Maybe so and that may be a problem if you’re trying to make Viennese turtle soup with truffles, but if you want a good ol' jambalaya, the more input the better. Lincoln and Lally actually ask for input, encourage improvisation and solicit creativity. What results is something that reflects who we are as a town, and is more our voice than either of their voices alone.
I know it sounds hokey to compare a High School English teacher to Thomas Jefferson, but just like he was the principal author of the Declaration of Independence but it was really written by the whole Continental Congress and is historically considered to be an expression of “the American mind,” Lucia starts out writing a fun little play but it takes on a life of it’s own and it really represents Charter Oak and belongs to Charter Oak, more than to Lucia or Rosie or any one else.
When I married Bethany, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that I didn’t just marry her, I married into a family, what’s more, I didn’t just marry into a family, I married into a town. That’s a wonderful feeling, even if it was a little intimidating at first. A stereotype we city native have of small towns is that they’re exclusive, stodgy, and unwelcoming to outsiders. Charter Oak broke the stereotype for me. It has been warm, accepting, understanding and has enthusiastically made me feel like a welcomed member of the community.
When we’d first come back to visit from college or California, I’d have a hard time placing names with faces. Bethany told me that there aren’t TOO many names to remember. If you know Neddermeyer, Kuhlman, Meseck, and Staley, you know almost about everybody. Thanks to last weekend’s play, I can put a lot more faces with a lot more names.
Those are the kind of values that Lucia’s dramas and her directing style embody. As a fellow teacher, I watched her at play practice to see what kinds of “teacher” things she does. Immediately following practice she made an effort to touch base with everyone she could. She praised them for their performance, gently suggested things she’s like them to add or change and often noticed things they did on their own that she thought contributed to the play.
Lots of us may have moaned or even cringed when we were asked to be involved, but think about two things; First, one of our pastors in California said that if you want someone to become a member of a church, you should “give ‘em a job.” Active participation automatically creates commitment. Second, one of the great things for armatures (and high school students) about having a huge cast is that they’re all short, easy parts. Anyone is more apt to help if they aren’t overwhelmed by how much they have to do.
In other words, “Many hands make light the work.” Or as Red Green says on IPTV, “We’re all in this together.”
That’s what community is all about. That’s what participatory democracy is all about. Helping each other, enjoying each other’s camaraderie. As everybody knows, the family that plays together stays together. I think that that has to be every bit as important as businesses or a school. If we enjoy working together to help each other out, we’ll stay afloat. I’ll bet we’ll even improve our town some, like by being able to build a new shelter house down at the park.
It may have been a corny, cheesy line at the end of a corny, cheesy play, but we ought to thank Lucia and Rosie for “putting the UNITY back in COMMUNITY!
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Happy Birthday Lady Liberty
On this day June 19, back in 1885, the dismantled Statue of Liberty arrived in the New World, enclosed in more than 200 crates.
In 1865 a group of Frenchmen were discussing their dictator-like emperor, Napoleon III and America's successful democratic government and abolishing slavery at the end of the Civil War. The dinner was hosted by Edouard Rene de Laboulaye, an abolitionist and a leader of the "liberals," a political group dedicated to establishing a French republican government modeled on America's constitution. The dinner guests talked about the close relationship and love of liberty France and The United States shared. Laboulaye called France and America "the two sisters."
The "liberals" decided to build a monument to American freedom. A successful 31-year-old sculptor, Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, was at the dinner. He imagined a woman holding a torch burning with the light of freedom. They planned to call it "Liberty Enlightening the World," and it would commemorate the Franco-American alliance during the American Revolution.
We probably could not have won our freedom from Britain in the American Revolution without the help of France. They provided arms, ships, money, and men to American colonial rebels. The Marquis de Lafayette, a close friend of George Washington became one of the highest high-ranking officers in the American army. Washington may not have been able to defeat British General Charles Cornwallis at the battle of Yorktown if it weren't for the help of the French Navy.
Yet today, because they opposed our war on Iraq, we belittle them and rename French Fries and French Toast "Liberty Fries." What war hawk or "frog-basher" would seriously consider sending the Statue of Liberty back? I think it's been shameful how many times Americans have made jokes accusing the French of not fighting against Hitler in WWII. How ghastly that we have so little sense of history or perspective on the evil of fascism, and NAZIism that we could make light of the suffering and sacrifice of so many of the French people during such a dark time.
It took two decades to complete the 151-foot statue. In 1877, the U.S. Congress approved the use of New York's Bedloe Island. French supporters raised money to build a statue the size of a 15 story building without a pedestal. Her index finger alone is 8 feet long. July 4, 1884 it was officially offered to the United States by France, as a birthday gift. Then, it had to be taken apart, shipped across the Atlantic Ocean, and rebuilt in the U. S.
Americans raised money to pay for the pedestal it stands on. In 1885 Statue of Liberty arrived in New York City's harbor. It was 1886 when the statue was dedicated. At the time, she was the tallest structure in New York, reaching to a total height of 305 feet. It was truly "the eighth wonder of the world."
One of the original seven wonders of the world, the Colossus of Rhodes, was thought to have only stood about 105 ft tall. It was a huge bronze statue of the Greek sun god Helios, erected about 280 bc to guard the entrance to the harbor of a Greek island off the coast of what is now Turkey.
Which reminds me, I think it's important to remember the difference between symbolism and idolatry. I believe in the principles which our flag and the statue of liberty represent, but the flag and statue themselves are just things. Damage a flag and I'm just offended, damage my freedoms or speech, press, religion and political affiliation and we're all in a world of hurt. It's good to feel patriotic, it's more important to be patriotic.
There is no Helios or Appolo, and the Colossus of Rhodes was destroyed by an earthquake. Let's say terrorists had attacked the Statue of Liberty when they took out the World Trade Center. Would there still be liberty in the United States? Benjamin Franklin once said that "a nation that would sacrifice liberty for the sake of security deserves neither liberty, nor security." Since September 11, 2001, we've begun to tread a thin line between justice and vengeance. I hope we don't sacrifice our civil liberties to the gods of pride and prowece.
In 1989 Chinese demonstrators fashioned a "Goddess of Democracy" out of styrofoam just before the Tienamin Square Massacre. Democracy in China was squashed, sadly, few people even remember their "goddess."
If you can believe this, there's been talk about erecting an gigantic angel monument in Los Angeles Harbor as sort of a twin or book-end on the other side of the country. I really don't remember if it was supposed to honor Asian and Latin American immigrants or just promote tourism. No doubt it will provoke debate about separation of church and state. Will the Catholics get a Mary-Queen of the Angels statue, or will the Mormons get an angel Moroni-who allegedly gave the Book of Mormon to Joseph Smith. My fear is that the entertainment industry will get to design it and it will just look like a colossal Emmy Award statue.
On the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty was inscribed "The New Colossus," a famous sonnet by Emma Lazarus that welcomed more than 12 million immigrants to the United States with the declaration,
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
Does that lamp still provide the light of hope? How do we feel about poor, tired, homeless masses today? Are Mexican, Chinese, or Arab masses as welcomed as the Germans, Swedes and Irish?
What does she stand for anyway? What does she symbolize to you today?
In 1865 a group of Frenchmen were discussing their dictator-like emperor, Napoleon III and America's successful democratic government and abolishing slavery at the end of the Civil War. The dinner was hosted by Edouard Rene de Laboulaye, an abolitionist and a leader of the "liberals," a political group dedicated to establishing a French republican government modeled on America's constitution. The dinner guests talked about the close relationship and love of liberty France and The United States shared. Laboulaye called France and America "the two sisters."
The "liberals" decided to build a monument to American freedom. A successful 31-year-old sculptor, Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, was at the dinner. He imagined a woman holding a torch burning with the light of freedom. They planned to call it "Liberty Enlightening the World," and it would commemorate the Franco-American alliance during the American Revolution.
We probably could not have won our freedom from Britain in the American Revolution without the help of France. They provided arms, ships, money, and men to American colonial rebels. The Marquis de Lafayette, a close friend of George Washington became one of the highest high-ranking officers in the American army. Washington may not have been able to defeat British General Charles Cornwallis at the battle of Yorktown if it weren't for the help of the French Navy.
Yet today, because they opposed our war on Iraq, we belittle them and rename French Fries and French Toast "Liberty Fries." What war hawk or "frog-basher" would seriously consider sending the Statue of Liberty back? I think it's been shameful how many times Americans have made jokes accusing the French of not fighting against Hitler in WWII. How ghastly that we have so little sense of history or perspective on the evil of fascism, and NAZIism that we could make light of the suffering and sacrifice of so many of the French people during such a dark time.
It took two decades to complete the 151-foot statue. In 1877, the U.S. Congress approved the use of New York's Bedloe Island. French supporters raised money to build a statue the size of a 15 story building without a pedestal. Her index finger alone is 8 feet long. July 4, 1884 it was officially offered to the United States by France, as a birthday gift. Then, it had to be taken apart, shipped across the Atlantic Ocean, and rebuilt in the U. S.
Americans raised money to pay for the pedestal it stands on. In 1885 Statue of Liberty arrived in New York City's harbor. It was 1886 when the statue was dedicated. At the time, she was the tallest structure in New York, reaching to a total height of 305 feet. It was truly "the eighth wonder of the world."
One of the original seven wonders of the world, the Colossus of Rhodes, was thought to have only stood about 105 ft tall. It was a huge bronze statue of the Greek sun god Helios, erected about 280 bc to guard the entrance to the harbor of a Greek island off the coast of what is now Turkey.
Which reminds me, I think it's important to remember the difference between symbolism and idolatry. I believe in the principles which our flag and the statue of liberty represent, but the flag and statue themselves are just things. Damage a flag and I'm just offended, damage my freedoms or speech, press, religion and political affiliation and we're all in a world of hurt. It's good to feel patriotic, it's more important to be patriotic.
There is no Helios or Appolo, and the Colossus of Rhodes was destroyed by an earthquake. Let's say terrorists had attacked the Statue of Liberty when they took out the World Trade Center. Would there still be liberty in the United States? Benjamin Franklin once said that "a nation that would sacrifice liberty for the sake of security deserves neither liberty, nor security." Since September 11, 2001, we've begun to tread a thin line between justice and vengeance. I hope we don't sacrifice our civil liberties to the gods of pride and prowece.
In 1989 Chinese demonstrators fashioned a "Goddess of Democracy" out of styrofoam just before the Tienamin Square Massacre. Democracy in China was squashed, sadly, few people even remember their "goddess."
If you can believe this, there's been talk about erecting an gigantic angel monument in Los Angeles Harbor as sort of a twin or book-end on the other side of the country. I really don't remember if it was supposed to honor Asian and Latin American immigrants or just promote tourism. No doubt it will provoke debate about separation of church and state. Will the Catholics get a Mary-Queen of the Angels statue, or will the Mormons get an angel Moroni-who allegedly gave the Book of Mormon to Joseph Smith. My fear is that the entertainment industry will get to design it and it will just look like a colossal Emmy Award statue.
On the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty was inscribed "The New Colossus," a famous sonnet by Emma Lazarus that welcomed more than 12 million immigrants to the United States with the declaration,
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door."
Does that lamp still provide the light of hope? How do we feel about poor, tired, homeless masses today? Are Mexican, Chinese, or Arab masses as welcomed as the Germans, Swedes and Irish?
What does she stand for anyway? What does she symbolize to you today?
Thursday, June 05, 2003
Mistake of historic proportions
Benjamin Franklin coined one of his most famous quotes upon the close of the Constitutional convention, "Our new Constitution is now established, and has an appearance that promises permanency; but in this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes."
The important questions are, who’s doing the taxing, who’s being taxed, how much, and what is it being used for? Libertarians and Anarchists will remind you that the War for Independence was fought to end taxes, but the real issue was who was doing the taxing, who was taxed and how much, and where the money went. If Iowan’s taxes went to Canada, we’d revolt too.
A political activist once told me that they thought that one of the main differences between Republicans and Democrats is that Republicans spend on physical infrastructure, while Dems spend on social programs. People or things.
In other words Republicans would spend our taxes on roads or street lights, Democrats on Driver’s Education programs. Case in point, the Iowa assembly, mostly Republican, want to offer money to school districts for building, but if they already have money to build, they may use the money for other things, like teacher salaries. The Teacher’s unions are frustrated with the legislature for not just offering money specifically for teacher salaries.
The old debate had always been, "guns or butter?" Somewhere in the middle of the twentieth century our Federal Government decided they should try deficit spending to try to stimulate the economy. Sometimes it helps a little, sometimes it doesn’t, but what are the long term consequences?
When I try spending more money than I have, the people I owe bills to start calling me on the phone. Don’t pay, they’ll report it and wreck your credit, right? Eventually things get repossessed.
If you were say, a hundred thousand dollars in debt, would that be a good time to quit your job? Of course not, but the Bush Administration and the Republican led Congress and Senate have decided to cut Federal revenues by at least $330 billion, even though they need to spend record amounts of money on Homeland Security, baling out the states and $50-60 billion war with Iraq.
Mind you, I love having my taxes cut as much as the staunchest Republicans. When I get my treasury check for our earned-income-tax credits- er, I mean children, we’ll probably use it to pay off some of our college loans. But I’m not sure how that’s going to stimulate the economy.
The theory behind Bush’s tax cut is the same old "trickle-down" economics of his father and Ronald Reagan. The hope is, if you give wealthy investors and corporations huge tax cuts, they’ll reinvest their savings into their infrastructure, creating jobs, producing more tax revenue from paychecks and simultaneously giving those workers money as consumers.
The fatal flaw is human nature. We don’t reinvest and create jobs, we spend on ourselves or we figure out ways to turn an even bigger profit. The rich get richer, the rest of us get poorer.
Do you deserve to keep your hard earned dividends and your capital gains? I suppose, but most of us barely know what those are and certainly don’t have any. And what about our future? Is that "class-warfare?" Then so be it. I am no communist and do not advocate any kind of socialism, but President Bush seems to see the world through millionaire’s glasses.
Some estimates suggest that the current Bush budget will increase the deficit by more than $300B over last year's $158B deficit. If you don’t remember your high school economics, the deficit is the red ink, the money you spend beyond your income, money you don’t have.
And what about our future? Will the Social Security fund still dry up by 2035? What about Medicaid and Medicare? I’m worried about health insurance and college tuition.
Annual deficits pile up and create debt. At the time I wrote this, the U.S. National debt was rapidly approaching six and a half trillion dollars! For all the reasons there are to dislike Bill Clinton, the debt was actually shrinking during his presidency. The National Debt has increased an average of $992 million per day since September 30, 2002!
Debt and deficit hurt our credit, they hurt the value of the dollar, and they hurt the economy. As bad as the economy is, is it really worth selling our future?
The estimated population of the United States is 291,066,701 so each citizen's share of this debt is over $22,000.00. That means my 1 ½ year old daughter Ellen owes $22,000!
I appreciate lower taxes as much as anybody, but I’m having a hard time enjoying this one. I think it was a mistake of historic proportions.
1
The important questions are, who’s doing the taxing, who’s being taxed, how much, and what is it being used for? Libertarians and Anarchists will remind you that the War for Independence was fought to end taxes, but the real issue was who was doing the taxing, who was taxed and how much, and where the money went. If Iowan’s taxes went to Canada, we’d revolt too.
A political activist once told me that they thought that one of the main differences between Republicans and Democrats is that Republicans spend on physical infrastructure, while Dems spend on social programs. People or things.
In other words Republicans would spend our taxes on roads or street lights, Democrats on Driver’s Education programs. Case in point, the Iowa assembly, mostly Republican, want to offer money to school districts for building, but if they already have money to build, they may use the money for other things, like teacher salaries. The Teacher’s unions are frustrated with the legislature for not just offering money specifically for teacher salaries.
The old debate had always been, "guns or butter?" Somewhere in the middle of the twentieth century our Federal Government decided they should try deficit spending to try to stimulate the economy. Sometimes it helps a little, sometimes it doesn’t, but what are the long term consequences?
When I try spending more money than I have, the people I owe bills to start calling me on the phone. Don’t pay, they’ll report it and wreck your credit, right? Eventually things get repossessed.
If you were say, a hundred thousand dollars in debt, would that be a good time to quit your job? Of course not, but the Bush Administration and the Republican led Congress and Senate have decided to cut Federal revenues by at least $330 billion, even though they need to spend record amounts of money on Homeland Security, baling out the states and $50-60 billion war with Iraq.
Mind you, I love having my taxes cut as much as the staunchest Republicans. When I get my treasury check for our earned-income-tax credits- er, I mean children, we’ll probably use it to pay off some of our college loans. But I’m not sure how that’s going to stimulate the economy.
The theory behind Bush’s tax cut is the same old "trickle-down" economics of his father and Ronald Reagan. The hope is, if you give wealthy investors and corporations huge tax cuts, they’ll reinvest their savings into their infrastructure, creating jobs, producing more tax revenue from paychecks and simultaneously giving those workers money as consumers.
The fatal flaw is human nature. We don’t reinvest and create jobs, we spend on ourselves or we figure out ways to turn an even bigger profit. The rich get richer, the rest of us get poorer.
Do you deserve to keep your hard earned dividends and your capital gains? I suppose, but most of us barely know what those are and certainly don’t have any. And what about our future? Is that "class-warfare?" Then so be it. I am no communist and do not advocate any kind of socialism, but President Bush seems to see the world through millionaire’s glasses.
Some estimates suggest that the current Bush budget will increase the deficit by more than $300B over last year's $158B deficit. If you don’t remember your high school economics, the deficit is the red ink, the money you spend beyond your income, money you don’t have.
And what about our future? Will the Social Security fund still dry up by 2035? What about Medicaid and Medicare? I’m worried about health insurance and college tuition.
Annual deficits pile up and create debt. At the time I wrote this, the U.S. National debt was rapidly approaching six and a half trillion dollars! For all the reasons there are to dislike Bill Clinton, the debt was actually shrinking during his presidency. The National Debt has increased an average of $992 million per day since September 30, 2002!
Debt and deficit hurt our credit, they hurt the value of the dollar, and they hurt the economy. As bad as the economy is, is it really worth selling our future?
The estimated population of the United States is 291,066,701 so each citizen's share of this debt is over $22,000.00. That means my 1 ½ year old daughter Ellen owes $22,000!
I appreciate lower taxes as much as anybody, but I’m having a hard time enjoying this one. I think it was a mistake of historic proportions.
1
Thursday, May 29, 2003
Adventures in potty training
The girls and I are looking forward to taking a trip next week. It’s the 50th anniversary of Los Angeles Lutheran Jr/Sr High School, so we thought we’d attend the celebrations. It’s been three years since we’ve seen many of our friends, former students and colleagues. We’re also going to spend some time in Arizona, my folks had their 40th anniversary at Easter but we weren’t able to make it back.
We decided to drive rather than fly, so I’m excited to test out the new minivan and I’m excited to get to see all he awesome landscapes this great land has to offer. Grace is excited to see the beach and her new cousin, "baby Daniel," and if she’s lucky, a Diamondbacks game.
"Me like beesbwall," she says whenever we catch a game on TV.
There is something I’m not looking forward to. Bethany’s grandma doesn’t like the fact that we’re traveling, let alone to L.A. while the nation’s on an orange terrorism alert, but that doesn’t phase me. We’re driving, not flying so we’ll avoid all the hassle of upgraded security. I admit, if I let myself, my earthquake-phobia could creep into the back of my mind, but that’s not what I’m dreading most about this trip.
My biggest fear is potty time.
Let me ask you something. How old do you think a child should be for it to be appropriate for a father to stop taking his daughter to the men’s room? I’m thinkin four. I’ll tell you why.
First of all, men’s public restrooms are generally disgusting. Some gas stations or truck stops are cleaner than others. Rest Areas vary on their maintenance quality greatly from state to state. I have found that Nebraska and Iowa do a much better job for example than say, Kansas and Colorado.
Without dwelling too long on a distasteful subject, I should explain to you ladies that each of the four walls in a men’s stall has a unique purpose generally not seen in women’s restrooms. I know only because I’ve drawn a paycheck as a janitor when I was younger.
One wall inevitably is reserved for phone numbers, this of course is a stereotype you’ve seen in sitcoms and movies, but it’s one that’s true. Another, depending on local demographics, is reserved for chewing gum. These walls are quite interesting from an artist’s point of view, actually, since different brands have different colors and textures. From the parent of a four year old, on the other hand, it’s a hassle to keep their hands of the used confections and to explain that one only wants to chew fresh, new gum that one unwraps one’s self.
The next wall is a gross one, so skip this paragraph if you have a weak stomach. It’s the booger wall. Yes, ladies, we know it’s impolite to pass gas and pick our noses in public, so it has to be done somewhere, where else would you suggest? With fewer and fewer men carrying handkerchiefs, if you don’t eat it, it has to go somewhere. Though I for one don’t know what’s wrong with toilet paper, but in men’s defense, most public restrooms are always out.
The last wall, (two if there’s no bubble gum wall) is dedicated to a number of things. Partly as sort of a message board. On the internet, they’d call this a "bulletin board," or a "news group." In a men’s room these can be sexual solicitations or social-political discussions, often featuring racial epithets and allegations of unconventional sexual preference. Perhaps most interesting to anthropologists hundreds of years from now will be the displays of erotic artwork.
Needless to say, the more Grace can recognize letters and words and the more questions she keeps asking, the less I want to be responsible for her and the more comfortable with putting Bethany in charge.
Not long ago, Ellie, our youngest showed an interest in getting potty trained. When a 16 month old does that, you’ve got to take advantage of your narrow window of opportunity. We figure on taking along an "adapter," you know, one of those mini-seats that you put on top of the main seat for tiny fannies.
Here’s how the break-thru went. I’ve since apologized to Bethany for my insensitive reaction.
Ellie followed her sister into the bathroom, pulled down her britches, unfastened her diaper, sat on the trainer-potty and tinkled all by her self. Bethany was elated. Like any proud mom, she immediately called her mom to celebrate the achievement with "Grammy."
This is when I came home from school to find Ellie in the living room, still no pants, leaving a trail of poops behind her
We decided to drive rather than fly, so I’m excited to test out the new minivan and I’m excited to get to see all he awesome landscapes this great land has to offer. Grace is excited to see the beach and her new cousin, "baby Daniel," and if she’s lucky, a Diamondbacks game.
"Me like beesbwall," she says whenever we catch a game on TV.
There is something I’m not looking forward to. Bethany’s grandma doesn’t like the fact that we’re traveling, let alone to L.A. while the nation’s on an orange terrorism alert, but that doesn’t phase me. We’re driving, not flying so we’ll avoid all the hassle of upgraded security. I admit, if I let myself, my earthquake-phobia could creep into the back of my mind, but that’s not what I’m dreading most about this trip.
My biggest fear is potty time.
Let me ask you something. How old do you think a child should be for it to be appropriate for a father to stop taking his daughter to the men’s room? I’m thinkin four. I’ll tell you why.
First of all, men’s public restrooms are generally disgusting. Some gas stations or truck stops are cleaner than others. Rest Areas vary on their maintenance quality greatly from state to state. I have found that Nebraska and Iowa do a much better job for example than say, Kansas and Colorado.
Without dwelling too long on a distasteful subject, I should explain to you ladies that each of the four walls in a men’s stall has a unique purpose generally not seen in women’s restrooms. I know only because I’ve drawn a paycheck as a janitor when I was younger.
One wall inevitably is reserved for phone numbers, this of course is a stereotype you’ve seen in sitcoms and movies, but it’s one that’s true. Another, depending on local demographics, is reserved for chewing gum. These walls are quite interesting from an artist’s point of view, actually, since different brands have different colors and textures. From the parent of a four year old, on the other hand, it’s a hassle to keep their hands of the used confections and to explain that one only wants to chew fresh, new gum that one unwraps one’s self.
The next wall is a gross one, so skip this paragraph if you have a weak stomach. It’s the booger wall. Yes, ladies, we know it’s impolite to pass gas and pick our noses in public, so it has to be done somewhere, where else would you suggest? With fewer and fewer men carrying handkerchiefs, if you don’t eat it, it has to go somewhere. Though I for one don’t know what’s wrong with toilet paper, but in men’s defense, most public restrooms are always out.
The last wall, (two if there’s no bubble gum wall) is dedicated to a number of things. Partly as sort of a message board. On the internet, they’d call this a "bulletin board," or a "news group." In a men’s room these can be sexual solicitations or social-political discussions, often featuring racial epithets and allegations of unconventional sexual preference. Perhaps most interesting to anthropologists hundreds of years from now will be the displays of erotic artwork.
Needless to say, the more Grace can recognize letters and words and the more questions she keeps asking, the less I want to be responsible for her and the more comfortable with putting Bethany in charge.
Not long ago, Ellie, our youngest showed an interest in getting potty trained. When a 16 month old does that, you’ve got to take advantage of your narrow window of opportunity. We figure on taking along an "adapter," you know, one of those mini-seats that you put on top of the main seat for tiny fannies.
Here’s how the break-thru went. I’ve since apologized to Bethany for my insensitive reaction.
Ellie followed her sister into the bathroom, pulled down her britches, unfastened her diaper, sat on the trainer-potty and tinkled all by her self. Bethany was elated. Like any proud mom, she immediately called her mom to celebrate the achievement with "Grammy."
This is when I came home from school to find Ellie in the living room, still no pants, leaving a trail of poops behind her
Thursday, May 22, 2003
Memorial Day
"Memorial Day...celebrates and solemnly reaffirms from year to year a national act of enthusiasm and faith. It embodies in the most impressive form our belief that to act with enthusiasm and faith is the condition of acting greatly"
~Oliver Wendell Holmes
From an address delivered for Memorial Day, May 30, 1884
Monday is Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, Ashes Day, not to be confused with Labor Day, it’s book end on the other side of summer or Veteran’s Day, it’s half-brother which was really intended for the living. Since World War I, it’s also been called Poppy Day, because volunteers sell small, red artificial flowers as a fund-raiser for disabled veterans.
Legend has it that throughout history, after major wars red poppies seem to pop up on battlefields and on soldiers graves. Poppy seeds lay dormant in the soil until it is violently turned or dug up, causing them to sprout.
After WWI in Flanders Field, Belgium. In the bomb craters and on mounds of rubble, poppies bloomed everywhere. The heavily churned earth and high concentration of lime from the limestone buildings made the perfect catalyst for the poppies to grow.
Some thought that the red poppies looked spilled blood. British mothers wore poppies in remembrance of their lost sons. The poppy has since become a symbol of peace and of remembering the sacrifice of the fallen soldier.
Memorial Day may have began in 1868, when Civil War General John A. Logan, commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, a Union veterans’ organization, said that May 30th should be special day to decorate the graves of Union soldiers.
He may have chose May 30th on the suggestion of a Franco-American veteran, who noted that May 30th was "The Day of Ashes" in France-the day that Napoleon's remains were returned to France in 1840 from his exile to the island of St. Helena 1200 miles off Africa. What Napoleon’s ashes have to do with Union veterans, I have no idea.
Northern states celebrate Memorial Day on the last Monday in May. This became a federal holiday in 1971. In the deep South, Memorial Day celebrations honor Confederate soldiers who died in "the war between the states." Mississippi and Alabama celebrate Confederate Memorial Day on the last Monday in April. In Florida and Georgia, the date is April 26. May 10 is Memorial Day in North and South Carolina, and the holiday is June 3 in Kentucky, Louisiana, and Tennessee. Texas observes Confederate Heroes Day on January 19 (Robert E. Lee's birthday).
The first large observance was held in 1868 at Arlington National Cemetery, across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. The cemetery already held the remains of 20,000 Union dead and several hundred Confederate dead. After speeches, children from the Soldiers' and Sailors' Orphan Home and members of the GAR made their way through the cemetery, strewing flowers on both Union and Confederate graves, reciting prayers and singing hymns.
Many Americans don’t know is that how Arlington came to be our national cemetery. Arlington was the home of Gen. Robert E. Lee. Perhaps to send his family a message, Union sympathizers piled the remains of Confederate dead at his doorstep. You can imagine the stench.
Unfortunately the significance of this holiday is sometimes forgotten, buried in ads, sales, barbecues and water sports. It’s easy to see Memorial Day as just another day off. It certainly has a sweetness as the gateway to summer and a time for friends and families to gather.
But especially with two wars just in the last two years, I think we need to remember it for what it was intended, a day of mourning, and prayer for and gratitude to the men and women who lost their lives in the line of duty and their families.
Buy a poppy to support Veterans’ charities, pray for the widowed and orphaned families of the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq, and thank God for your freedoms.
"Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Dream of battled fields no more.
Days of danger, nights of waking."
~Sir Walter Scott
1
~Oliver Wendell Holmes
From an address delivered for Memorial Day, May 30, 1884
Monday is Memorial Day, also known as Decoration Day, Ashes Day, not to be confused with Labor Day, it’s book end on the other side of summer or Veteran’s Day, it’s half-brother which was really intended for the living. Since World War I, it’s also been called Poppy Day, because volunteers sell small, red artificial flowers as a fund-raiser for disabled veterans.
Legend has it that throughout history, after major wars red poppies seem to pop up on battlefields and on soldiers graves. Poppy seeds lay dormant in the soil until it is violently turned or dug up, causing them to sprout.
After WWI in Flanders Field, Belgium. In the bomb craters and on mounds of rubble, poppies bloomed everywhere. The heavily churned earth and high concentration of lime from the limestone buildings made the perfect catalyst for the poppies to grow.
Some thought that the red poppies looked spilled blood. British mothers wore poppies in remembrance of their lost sons. The poppy has since become a symbol of peace and of remembering the sacrifice of the fallen soldier.
Memorial Day may have began in 1868, when Civil War General John A. Logan, commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic, a Union veterans’ organization, said that May 30th should be special day to decorate the graves of Union soldiers.
He may have chose May 30th on the suggestion of a Franco-American veteran, who noted that May 30th was "The Day of Ashes" in France-the day that Napoleon's remains were returned to France in 1840 from his exile to the island of St. Helena 1200 miles off Africa. What Napoleon’s ashes have to do with Union veterans, I have no idea.
Northern states celebrate Memorial Day on the last Monday in May. This became a federal holiday in 1971. In the deep South, Memorial Day celebrations honor Confederate soldiers who died in "the war between the states." Mississippi and Alabama celebrate Confederate Memorial Day on the last Monday in April. In Florida and Georgia, the date is April 26. May 10 is Memorial Day in North and South Carolina, and the holiday is June 3 in Kentucky, Louisiana, and Tennessee. Texas observes Confederate Heroes Day on January 19 (Robert E. Lee's birthday).
The first large observance was held in 1868 at Arlington National Cemetery, across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. The cemetery already held the remains of 20,000 Union dead and several hundred Confederate dead. After speeches, children from the Soldiers' and Sailors' Orphan Home and members of the GAR made their way through the cemetery, strewing flowers on both Union and Confederate graves, reciting prayers and singing hymns.
Many Americans don’t know is that how Arlington came to be our national cemetery. Arlington was the home of Gen. Robert E. Lee. Perhaps to send his family a message, Union sympathizers piled the remains of Confederate dead at his doorstep. You can imagine the stench.
Unfortunately the significance of this holiday is sometimes forgotten, buried in ads, sales, barbecues and water sports. It’s easy to see Memorial Day as just another day off. It certainly has a sweetness as the gateway to summer and a time for friends and families to gather.
But especially with two wars just in the last two years, I think we need to remember it for what it was intended, a day of mourning, and prayer for and gratitude to the men and women who lost their lives in the line of duty and their families.
Buy a poppy to support Veterans’ charities, pray for the widowed and orphaned families of the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq, and thank God for your freedoms.
"Soldier, rest! Thy warfare o'er,
Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,
Dream of battled fields no more.
Days of danger, nights of waking."
~Sir Walter Scott
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Thursday, May 15, 2003
Teenagers, Read This!
I figure you didn’t nominate me to speak at your graduation for a lot of very good reasons. For one thing, you don’t know me from Adam. For another I’m not famous. At my high school graduation we had the local weather guy come in a news helicopter.
I have no idea what he said. It was God-awful hot on the football field in June in that polyester graduation gown and he was kind of a goof.
Another reason you didn’t ask for me is that I haven’t done anything amazing and I don’t have a ton of Master’s or Doctorate degrees. At my college graduation we had some missionary who was the director of all kinds of international education or ministry programs or something.
Thinking of him reminds me of another reason you probably didn’t ask for me, I tend to go on and on forever. A good commencement address, or any speech really shouldn’t go on for more than say seven to ten minutes. When I plan for three, I end up talking for anywhere from 15 to 20.
I do remember at least ONE thing my college graduation speaker said. He said something along the lines of "when a butterfly flaps it’s wings in China, it creates a hurricane in Australia."
His point is a good one for you too. What he meant was that EVERYONE makes an impact. Even what seems like the most insignificant action can have enormous impact. Like a smile, a helping hand, letting someone else cut in front of you in line, telling someone that you appreciate what they did or encouraging them. Someone once called these "random acts of kindness."
I’m also well aware of the fact that you didn’t hire me to speak because I’m not an alumnus. A couple of years ago COU had Dr. John Hoffman speak at your graduation. He graduated from COU a year after I graduated from Shadow Mountain.
Today John’s the Dean of Students at Concordia University in Irvine, CA. Personally, I remember thinking that he gave one of the best commencement address I’d ever heard, but frankly, I don’t remember much of what he told kids either.
Since the school board didn’t see fit to invite me to speak to you, here now are some important things you should think about. You might even want to cut this out and tape it to something in your dorm room, or room, or locker at work, or foot locker in the barracks, or in your car or whatever:
Enjoy the ride. No two years of your life will be more intense or exhilarating than the next two. I could speculate about why, but who cares, the point is everybody has been telling you to appreciate high school as the "best years of your life," but really, the next six months will be like the last 4 years squeezed together.
People are more important than things. Measure your success in people, not things. Who have you helped, who has helped you, who have you learned from, who has learned from you? Who do you love? If you measure your success in money or possessions, you’ll either hurt yourself or hurt others.
Don’t burn the bridges you cross. Many of you can’t wait to "get the heck out of this one-horse town." Someday you may appreciate what it gave you, stability, strength, values, sense of belonging. As a matter of fact, someday you may even need those things and miss them. Don’t think that you can’t come home again. You can, if not to Charter Oak and Ute, then at least to some other small town.
With creativity, ingenuity, commitment, and most of all perspective, you can be successful and live comfortably anywhere. Don’t be afraid to go to Washington, Chicago, New York, China, Japan. Feel free to try Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, or Minneapolis. But don’t be afraid to come home either.
Farmer, blue-collar worker, professional, or entrepreneur, you can survive, and even thrive right here if that is what you choose. If that’s not what you choose, that’s fine, but don’t ever regret or deny where you come from, it is a huge part of who you are.
Be proud of that. We are proud of you.
Finally, think about what Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich wrote to graduates back in 1997:
"Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.
I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt."
Face it, we all become our parents and once you hit your twenties, you’re going to secretly wish that COU would ask you to give a graduation address too. Adults are always trying to give advice to kids, and you will too. Mary Schmich gave some incredibly profound advice in her column. If you don’t remember anything else from this column, PLEASE remember this:
Class of 2003, "Wear sunscreen." Congratulations and good luck.
I have no idea what he said. It was God-awful hot on the football field in June in that polyester graduation gown and he was kind of a goof.
Another reason you didn’t ask for me is that I haven’t done anything amazing and I don’t have a ton of Master’s or Doctorate degrees. At my college graduation we had some missionary who was the director of all kinds of international education or ministry programs or something.
Thinking of him reminds me of another reason you probably didn’t ask for me, I tend to go on and on forever. A good commencement address, or any speech really shouldn’t go on for more than say seven to ten minutes. When I plan for three, I end up talking for anywhere from 15 to 20.
I do remember at least ONE thing my college graduation speaker said. He said something along the lines of "when a butterfly flaps it’s wings in China, it creates a hurricane in Australia."
His point is a good one for you too. What he meant was that EVERYONE makes an impact. Even what seems like the most insignificant action can have enormous impact. Like a smile, a helping hand, letting someone else cut in front of you in line, telling someone that you appreciate what they did or encouraging them. Someone once called these "random acts of kindness."
I’m also well aware of the fact that you didn’t hire me to speak because I’m not an alumnus. A couple of years ago COU had Dr. John Hoffman speak at your graduation. He graduated from COU a year after I graduated from Shadow Mountain.
Today John’s the Dean of Students at Concordia University in Irvine, CA. Personally, I remember thinking that he gave one of the best commencement address I’d ever heard, but frankly, I don’t remember much of what he told kids either.
Since the school board didn’t see fit to invite me to speak to you, here now are some important things you should think about. You might even want to cut this out and tape it to something in your dorm room, or room, or locker at work, or foot locker in the barracks, or in your car or whatever:
Enjoy the ride. No two years of your life will be more intense or exhilarating than the next two. I could speculate about why, but who cares, the point is everybody has been telling you to appreciate high school as the "best years of your life," but really, the next six months will be like the last 4 years squeezed together.
People are more important than things. Measure your success in people, not things. Who have you helped, who has helped you, who have you learned from, who has learned from you? Who do you love? If you measure your success in money or possessions, you’ll either hurt yourself or hurt others.
Don’t burn the bridges you cross. Many of you can’t wait to "get the heck out of this one-horse town." Someday you may appreciate what it gave you, stability, strength, values, sense of belonging. As a matter of fact, someday you may even need those things and miss them. Don’t think that you can’t come home again. You can, if not to Charter Oak and Ute, then at least to some other small town.
With creativity, ingenuity, commitment, and most of all perspective, you can be successful and live comfortably anywhere. Don’t be afraid to go to Washington, Chicago, New York, China, Japan. Feel free to try Omaha, Des Moines, Denver, or Minneapolis. But don’t be afraid to come home either.
Farmer, blue-collar worker, professional, or entrepreneur, you can survive, and even thrive right here if that is what you choose. If that’s not what you choose, that’s fine, but don’t ever regret or deny where you come from, it is a huge part of who you are.
Be proud of that. We are proud of you.
Finally, think about what Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich wrote to graduates back in 1997:
"Inside every adult lurks a graduation speaker dying to get out, some world-weary pundit eager to pontificate on life to young people who'd rather be Rollerblading. Most of us, alas, will never be invited to sow our words of wisdom among an audience of caps and gowns, but there's no reason we can't entertain ourselves by composing a Guide to Life for Graduates.
I encourage anyone over 26 to try this and thank you for indulging my attempt."
Face it, we all become our parents and once you hit your twenties, you’re going to secretly wish that COU would ask you to give a graduation address too. Adults are always trying to give advice to kids, and you will too. Mary Schmich gave some incredibly profound advice in her column. If you don’t remember anything else from this column, PLEASE remember this:
Class of 2003, "Wear sunscreen." Congratulations and good luck.
Thursday, May 08, 2003
Important enough to try
A few weeks ago a very dear reader gave me a hug and shared with me how much she enjoyed my column. Then she told me how much she approved of many of the views I share in it, because they sound almost Republican.
Well, first I’d like to think I know my readers and how far I can push you. Second, I’ve always thought of myself as a moderate anyway, fiscally conservative, opposed to reckless spending and fat Federal deficits, but progressive on issues of social justice and equality. Be that as it may, I hope you’ll forgive me if I lean just a little to the left this issue.
Health insurance is a great concern that has been troubling me for some time. Boyer Valley we have to pay 100% of our own family health insurance. They give us an offset that singles don’t receive, but I still end up paying close to $4,000 a year for it, that’s $495 out of each monthly pay check. That’s around 7% of our pay. Like everybody else, Uncle Sam is already taking almost 30%.
What is most discouraging- even frightening for me personally- is that our family insurance rate is going up 33%, so that $495 a month will be edging up toward $660 a month.
I’d like to see the state take on public school teacher’s health insurance. State and County employees get a much better deal. There’s power in numbers. Any employer with less than 200 employees is going to have a hard time finding more affordable rates. It’s no wonder small school districts are constantly shopping for new insurers. Sometimes they’re like credit card companies; the first year they offer a good deal, but the next year they raise their rates 18% and then 33% the next year, and so on.
Surely the State of Iowa could handle helping its teachers with a tiny sin tax, like one more cent on gambling or alcohol or cigarettes. Most states put the majority of their proceeds from lottery ticket sales into education.
Mind you, I’m overjoyed to have what I have. While Lutheran High School paid for all but our $5 co-pays out in L.A. working with a massive HMO was a nightmare. Every time we went to the doctor we waited for hours to get in, we felt like numbers instead of people, and we rarely got to see the same doctor twice.
I also know that a lot of people, like farmers, are self-insured and pay a lot more than we teachers have to. As a matter of fact more than 40 million Americans are uninsured. Better than half of them have full time jobs. A quarter of those uninsured are under 65.
So, as a registered Democrat in Iowa, I’ve been interested in some of what House Minority Leader, Missouri Congressman Richard Gebhardt has been proposing.
Dick Gebhardt claims he can provide healthcare to all of us. He thinks that a place to start is that everyone should be covered through their jobs. If we elect him President in 2004, he plans on a tax credit for employers to expand health insurance, making coverage more affordable.
He says we can take advantage of the existing system of health insurance financing. By reforming the way things already work, instead of re-inventing the wheel, Gebhardt doesn’t see it as making things harder for either employers or employees.
In theory, this could even stimulate the economy, by creating jobs in health care and, presumably increasing worker productivity (because we’ll all be healthier.)
The Gebhardt plan would also expand access to Medicare for uninsured 55 and 64year olds and extend State Child Health Insurance Program coverage to parents of kids already covered.
Gebhardt’s plan seems a lot more grounded in reality than what we’ve heard from Teddy Kennedy or Hillary Clinton. Is it possible to provide quality health care to every American? Well, ask yourself if it’s possible to eradicate SARS, AIDS, or cancer, or to stop terrorism. Maybe, maybe not, but isn’t it important enough to try?
1
Well, first I’d like to think I know my readers and how far I can push you. Second, I’ve always thought of myself as a moderate anyway, fiscally conservative, opposed to reckless spending and fat Federal deficits, but progressive on issues of social justice and equality. Be that as it may, I hope you’ll forgive me if I lean just a little to the left this issue.
Health insurance is a great concern that has been troubling me for some time. Boyer Valley we have to pay 100% of our own family health insurance. They give us an offset that singles don’t receive, but I still end up paying close to $4,000 a year for it, that’s $495 out of each monthly pay check. That’s around 7% of our pay. Like everybody else, Uncle Sam is already taking almost 30%.
What is most discouraging- even frightening for me personally- is that our family insurance rate is going up 33%, so that $495 a month will be edging up toward $660 a month.
I’d like to see the state take on public school teacher’s health insurance. State and County employees get a much better deal. There’s power in numbers. Any employer with less than 200 employees is going to have a hard time finding more affordable rates. It’s no wonder small school districts are constantly shopping for new insurers. Sometimes they’re like credit card companies; the first year they offer a good deal, but the next year they raise their rates 18% and then 33% the next year, and so on.
Surely the State of Iowa could handle helping its teachers with a tiny sin tax, like one more cent on gambling or alcohol or cigarettes. Most states put the majority of their proceeds from lottery ticket sales into education.
Mind you, I’m overjoyed to have what I have. While Lutheran High School paid for all but our $5 co-pays out in L.A. working with a massive HMO was a nightmare. Every time we went to the doctor we waited for hours to get in, we felt like numbers instead of people, and we rarely got to see the same doctor twice.
I also know that a lot of people, like farmers, are self-insured and pay a lot more than we teachers have to. As a matter of fact more than 40 million Americans are uninsured. Better than half of them have full time jobs. A quarter of those uninsured are under 65.
So, as a registered Democrat in Iowa, I’ve been interested in some of what House Minority Leader, Missouri Congressman Richard Gebhardt has been proposing.
Dick Gebhardt claims he can provide healthcare to all of us. He thinks that a place to start is that everyone should be covered through their jobs. If we elect him President in 2004, he plans on a tax credit for employers to expand health insurance, making coverage more affordable.
He says we can take advantage of the existing system of health insurance financing. By reforming the way things already work, instead of re-inventing the wheel, Gebhardt doesn’t see it as making things harder for either employers or employees.
In theory, this could even stimulate the economy, by creating jobs in health care and, presumably increasing worker productivity (because we’ll all be healthier.)
The Gebhardt plan would also expand access to Medicare for uninsured 55 and 64year olds and extend State Child Health Insurance Program coverage to parents of kids already covered.
Gebhardt’s plan seems a lot more grounded in reality than what we’ve heard from Teddy Kennedy or Hillary Clinton. Is it possible to provide quality health care to every American? Well, ask yourself if it’s possible to eradicate SARS, AIDS, or cancer, or to stop terrorism. Maybe, maybe not, but isn’t it important enough to try?
1
Thursday, April 24, 2003
Traffic jam, Detour ahead, Expect delays
Jackie Pester likes it when I write about my commute on the beautiful Dunlap Highway (L-51). Here’s a sad one. As you may already know, I try to maintain a strict policy of transparency and candor. After all, you never know when the White House will call and you always want to be able to lay your record out on the table so that there aren’t any skeletons in your closet that the Senate confirmation hearings will drag out. Besides, you’re bound to read about it in the Denison papers eventually anyway, if you haven’t already.
A couple weeks ago, it was such a gorgeous day, and there weren’t a lot of farmers out disking yet, I just sort of forgot myself. I was driving along, enjoying nature’s Spring fashions- the buffing trees, the greening hay, the many calves and I thought to myself…
"This is SO much nicer than L.A.- no traffic whatsoever, I rarely even see another vehicle and have never seen a police car along this route in three years.
"Oh, wait, there’s actually ONE car in the oncoming lane. Say, I wonder what make and model that is anyway, most everybody around here drives GM, no, no this looks more like a Ford product…
"As a matter of fact, I bet that’s a Crown Vic-
"Aren’t those the ones used by the highway pa-
The trooper was very nice and very patient with me. After this past week with Minnesotan prisoners escaping to the Loess Hills, I’m glad that the Iowa State Patrol is in our area after all.
Speaking of highway trouble, you have no idea how much trouble I go through on the Information Superhighway trying to get this column to you every week.
Take last week’s column for instance. Usually I write this on Friday during my free period and try to email it in to Ann or Bonnie after school before I go home. Goes without saying that we didn’t have school on Good Friday. Since we had an early dismissal on Thursday, I thought I’d just write it up and send it after school Thursday and still get home early. But the best laid plans run awry.
Since they’re building a new school right next to the old one in Dunlap, they decided to cut the power almost immediately after all the students cleared out. Dang, fall back on plan ‘B.’
I got up just as early as I normally would have on Friday so that I could write it on the old home computer. But alas, since with two small children, we never have time to use the internet at home and we both have access at work, we canceled our service, thinking we’d save the $14.95 a month. Okay, need a plan ‘C’- got it! The farm! Mom-in-law’s at work, Dad-in-law’s out doing whatever farmers do before they can plant. They won’t mind if I email it from their place.
"Oof! Won’t connect. Ah ha, connected! Oof- cut out on me. Yeah, back on!"
"What’s this? Can’t access Hotmail account? What about ‘disabled Cookies?’ No problem, I’m a technologically literate guy, I think I know how to ‘enable cookies,’ here we go…
"What? Come on you hunk of sillicon!!" Grrr, half an hour later I’d gotten no where and was supposed to have met Bethany & the girls at Wal-Mart to get Grace’s birthday picture taken. I gave up and drove in to the big ‘D.’
We had to hustle back to Charter Oak to make the girl’s hair cut appointments. I gingerly ask Cindy if I can up load the column from their home computer.
"Sure, why not?" she offers.
"Thanks a million!" I scramble up their stairs to get it done and get on with life. No such luck. Beautiful new computer, Windows XP or NT or XL or something other than Windows ’98. The thing tells me that it can’t read my floppy disk because it’s "unformatted."
Now I am technologically literate enough to know that if I had reformatted my disk it would erase everything on it, including the column. Sigh.
"Why don’t we just drive up to Mapleton and give them your disk?" asked Bethany. Because Mike has all Apples at the Paper and I write the column on a PC. Macs can’t read PC disks anymore than new PCs seem to be able to read old PCs. Somehow Cyberspace interprets things, if I email it to them, they can read it. Make sense?
Now we’re on to Plan ‘D,’ I think. It’s hard to keep track. Anyway, we needed to go back to Denison for groceries, so we thought we’d use the good old public library computers. Thank God for American Democracy and God Bless Dale Carnagie, or was it Andrew Carnagie?
Library computer # 1- On the internet, into Hotmail! Hot dog, the furthest I’ve gotten so far. Compose mail, attachments…
"Program has executed illegal operation, fatal error, program will be shut down"
"AAAAURGH!!!"
Library Computer # 3- On the internet, into Hotmail, attachments…. "Internal Error"
"Doh (like Homer Sipmson would say), okay, okay, think, it’s probably some kind of a safety/security block, there’s probably a way around it…." So I decide to open the document and cut and paste it into the email instead of attaching it. No dice, no way to get into the floppy drive- wait! Aha! I open Microsoft Word (the program) and get into the document from there. Cut, paste, send! Alleluia, at last!
So then Tuesday morning I received an email from Bonnie about all the errors in the dumb thing.
And now today, as I write this (a week before you read it) guess what? The PC in my classroom can not connect to the school’s network, let alone the internet. But, hey, it’s done, at 9:10 am on Thursday the 24th, before kids show up for class, it’s done. If only I had a way to get it there.
1
A couple weeks ago, it was such a gorgeous day, and there weren’t a lot of farmers out disking yet, I just sort of forgot myself. I was driving along, enjoying nature’s Spring fashions- the buffing trees, the greening hay, the many calves and I thought to myself…
"This is SO much nicer than L.A.- no traffic whatsoever, I rarely even see another vehicle and have never seen a police car along this route in three years.
"Oh, wait, there’s actually ONE car in the oncoming lane. Say, I wonder what make and model that is anyway, most everybody around here drives GM, no, no this looks more like a Ford product…
"As a matter of fact, I bet that’s a Crown Vic-
"Aren’t those the ones used by the highway pa-
The trooper was very nice and very patient with me. After this past week with Minnesotan prisoners escaping to the Loess Hills, I’m glad that the Iowa State Patrol is in our area after all.
Speaking of highway trouble, you have no idea how much trouble I go through on the Information Superhighway trying to get this column to you every week.
Take last week’s column for instance. Usually I write this on Friday during my free period and try to email it in to Ann or Bonnie after school before I go home. Goes without saying that we didn’t have school on Good Friday. Since we had an early dismissal on Thursday, I thought I’d just write it up and send it after school Thursday and still get home early. But the best laid plans run awry.
Since they’re building a new school right next to the old one in Dunlap, they decided to cut the power almost immediately after all the students cleared out. Dang, fall back on plan ‘B.’
I got up just as early as I normally would have on Friday so that I could write it on the old home computer. But alas, since with two small children, we never have time to use the internet at home and we both have access at work, we canceled our service, thinking we’d save the $14.95 a month. Okay, need a plan ‘C’- got it! The farm! Mom-in-law’s at work, Dad-in-law’s out doing whatever farmers do before they can plant. They won’t mind if I email it from their place.
"Oof! Won’t connect. Ah ha, connected! Oof- cut out on me. Yeah, back on!"
"What’s this? Can’t access Hotmail account? What about ‘disabled Cookies?’ No problem, I’m a technologically literate guy, I think I know how to ‘enable cookies,’ here we go…
"What? Come on you hunk of sillicon!!" Grrr, half an hour later I’d gotten no where and was supposed to have met Bethany & the girls at Wal-Mart to get Grace’s birthday picture taken. I gave up and drove in to the big ‘D.’
We had to hustle back to Charter Oak to make the girl’s hair cut appointments. I gingerly ask Cindy if I can up load the column from their home computer.
"Sure, why not?" she offers.
"Thanks a million!" I scramble up their stairs to get it done and get on with life. No such luck. Beautiful new computer, Windows XP or NT or XL or something other than Windows ’98. The thing tells me that it can’t read my floppy disk because it’s "unformatted."
Now I am technologically literate enough to know that if I had reformatted my disk it would erase everything on it, including the column. Sigh.
"Why don’t we just drive up to Mapleton and give them your disk?" asked Bethany. Because Mike has all Apples at the Paper and I write the column on a PC. Macs can’t read PC disks anymore than new PCs seem to be able to read old PCs. Somehow Cyberspace interprets things, if I email it to them, they can read it. Make sense?
Now we’re on to Plan ‘D,’ I think. It’s hard to keep track. Anyway, we needed to go back to Denison for groceries, so we thought we’d use the good old public library computers. Thank God for American Democracy and God Bless Dale Carnagie, or was it Andrew Carnagie?
Library computer # 1- On the internet, into Hotmail! Hot dog, the furthest I’ve gotten so far. Compose mail, attachments…
"Program has executed illegal operation, fatal error, program will be shut down"
"AAAAURGH!!!"
Library Computer # 3- On the internet, into Hotmail, attachments…. "Internal Error"
"Doh (like Homer Sipmson would say), okay, okay, think, it’s probably some kind of a safety/security block, there’s probably a way around it…." So I decide to open the document and cut and paste it into the email instead of attaching it. No dice, no way to get into the floppy drive- wait! Aha! I open Microsoft Word (the program) and get into the document from there. Cut, paste, send! Alleluia, at last!
So then Tuesday morning I received an email from Bonnie about all the errors in the dumb thing.
And now today, as I write this (a week before you read it) guess what? The PC in my classroom can not connect to the school’s network, let alone the internet. But, hey, it’s done, at 9:10 am on Thursday the 24th, before kids show up for class, it’s done. If only I had a way to get it there.
1
Thursday, April 17, 2003
Easter Sonrise
I can’t believe how many people half-believe. Whether you eaves drop, overhear or engage people in a conversation about religion it’s amazing how pessimistic some folks are. I can’t believe how many people have resigned themselves to the fact that they’re headed for Hell.
They resent religious people for being too hypocritical and sometimes they resent God for not wanting them, but they just figure they’ve been too bad to get into Heaven, so "what the Hell?!"
If you’re one of these people, can I let you in on something? It’s not how good or bad you are, it’s not what you know- it’s all who you know. God does want you, He loves ALL of His children, but He won’t ever force you to love Him back.
The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. ~2 Peter 3:9
That’s why He sent Jesus, to die and go to Hell, so we won’t have to. And since Jesus defeated death and the Devil on Easter, we don’t have to worry about how many mistakes we’ve made or how bad we’ve been, all we have to do is accept the free gift of His love, forgiveness and salvation.
Surely you’ve heard John 3:16-
16"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
Well, let me play Paul Harvey and give you "the rest of the story."
First of all, did you catch that there is no catch? All it says there is "whoever believes." I knew a girl in High School that knew without a doubt that she was going to Hell because she’d had an abortion. So, she said, "I may as well be bad, because I’m already going to Hell."
Listen, thank God you don’t have to be good to get to Heaven because no one could ever possibly be good enough their entire lives to earn their way to Heaven.
Jesus said in Matthew 5, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' 22But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother, will be subject to judgment…"You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.'28But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."
It’s our sinful-human nature to be selfish and short sighted. We’re base animals who’re only interested in gratifying our own desires. Romans 3:23 says that "ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." All the goody-goody hypocrites included.
But remember all John 3:16 says that we have to do to be saved is to believe.
8For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- 9not by works, so that no one can boast. ~Ephesians 2:8-9
Nobody is a better Christian than anybody else. Now, once you believe that Jesus is who He says He is, God the Son, you probably want to learn more about Him and even try to be more like Him. Just like being a recovering alcoholic or a recovering drug addict, you’ll still have the same cravings, but unlike an animal, you’ll recognize that there are consequences for your choices and that "being bad" hurts other people and damages your relationships.
I want to make it perfectly clear to you this Easter that God does not want ANYONE to go to Hell. That’s why He came in the form of Jesus and sacrificed Himself in our place. Hell wasn’t even created for humans. Matthew 25:41makes it very clear that Hell was intended only for Satan and his demons, not for you.
You know John 3:16, but have you ever read John 3:17-19?
"17For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. 18Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son. 19This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil."
I hope this sheds some light on the subject, Jesus is the light of the world.
Now you know, the rest of the story.
Happy Easter!
They resent religious people for being too hypocritical and sometimes they resent God for not wanting them, but they just figure they’ve been too bad to get into Heaven, so "what the Hell?!"
If you’re one of these people, can I let you in on something? It’s not how good or bad you are, it’s not what you know- it’s all who you know. God does want you, He loves ALL of His children, but He won’t ever force you to love Him back.
The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. ~2 Peter 3:9
That’s why He sent Jesus, to die and go to Hell, so we won’t have to. And since Jesus defeated death and the Devil on Easter, we don’t have to worry about how many mistakes we’ve made or how bad we’ve been, all we have to do is accept the free gift of His love, forgiveness and salvation.
Surely you’ve heard John 3:16-
16"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.
Well, let me play Paul Harvey and give you "the rest of the story."
First of all, did you catch that there is no catch? All it says there is "whoever believes." I knew a girl in High School that knew without a doubt that she was going to Hell because she’d had an abortion. So, she said, "I may as well be bad, because I’m already going to Hell."
Listen, thank God you don’t have to be good to get to Heaven because no one could ever possibly be good enough their entire lives to earn their way to Heaven.
Jesus said in Matthew 5, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' 22But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother, will be subject to judgment…"You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.'28But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."
It’s our sinful-human nature to be selfish and short sighted. We’re base animals who’re only interested in gratifying our own desires. Romans 3:23 says that "ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." All the goody-goody hypocrites included.
But remember all John 3:16 says that we have to do to be saved is to believe.
8For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God-- 9not by works, so that no one can boast. ~Ephesians 2:8-9
Nobody is a better Christian than anybody else. Now, once you believe that Jesus is who He says He is, God the Son, you probably want to learn more about Him and even try to be more like Him. Just like being a recovering alcoholic or a recovering drug addict, you’ll still have the same cravings, but unlike an animal, you’ll recognize that there are consequences for your choices and that "being bad" hurts other people and damages your relationships.
I want to make it perfectly clear to you this Easter that God does not want ANYONE to go to Hell. That’s why He came in the form of Jesus and sacrificed Himself in our place. Hell wasn’t even created for humans. Matthew 25:41makes it very clear that Hell was intended only for Satan and his demons, not for you.
You know John 3:16, but have you ever read John 3:17-19?
"17For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. 18Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because he has not believed in the name of God's one and only Son. 19This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil."
I hope this sheds some light on the subject, Jesus is the light of the world.
Now you know, the rest of the story.
Happy Easter!
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