Things Remembered

Things Remembered

One summer spent in Arkansas gave me memories of fireflies that can’t be reproduced for the grandchildren.  Oh, Arkansas is still there even if the farm has long since been sold and the grandparents gone to glory.  But the summer nights were special for a particular reason.  Granddad Kennedy didn’t believe in lighting up the entire farm with those night lights up on huge electric poles.  Certainly the chicken houses were well lit, but the front lawn and the horse trap out in front of the barn were pools of darkness lined by huge trees.  And they sparkled at night with the flashing of fireflies.

In Texas it always seemed to be too dry to think about fireflies, but northwest Arkansas was almost juicy with moisture.  The fireflies seemed to like it, anyway.  We would catch them—probably mostly males—and put some in a jar for a while before we turned them loose.  They could never have produced enough light to show a path or anything of that nature, but they were purely fun to catch and imagine as our own personal lanterns.

Years ago our children were able to catch some fireflies out in the backyard or down toward the lake on the Fenoglio’s lawn.  Mrs. Fenoglio found their attempts as amusing as we did and let them run around all over her hill.  And the fireflies were great fun to chase.  But something has happened to the fireflies.  At first I thought it might have something to do with the spraying for the mosquitoes that has caused them to disappear.  But a little research has given me more things to consider.

According to an Associated Press article, fireflies have declined as much as 70 percent in some areas.  Part of the reason is due to loss of habitat—housing projects built in creek beds.  Part of the loss is due to lights—yes, lights.  Fireflies need darkness to find their mates.  Well, duh.  That makes sense.  But if one of these huge, oversized, overpriced houses has 32 big lights shining to show off its ostentatiousness, then the firefly doesn’t have a chance to be even a tiny bit of a showoff for his potential mate.  If insects like the firefly don’t mate, we lose another species. 

Ok, so the loss of one species of firefly out of 2,000 may not sound like a big deal in the overall picture of the insect world.  It only matters if one is a member of that species, I suppose.  But if we are so callous as to ignore our responsibility to the survival of the smallest things, what does that say about our stewardship of the larger things of life?

Oh, and I plan to find a book to explain fireflies to the grandchildren.  Otherwise they may never have any idea of what they have missed.

More rain, anyone?

Unto the Least of These

Unto the Least of These

No, animals are not our brothers in the sense that they are not born of men; but we share this earth with them, and in many respects, share the same fate.  What happens to them eventually happens to us in ways we might not even consider.  If we poison our planet, we poison life that is sustained by the planet.  If we show little regard for the small creatures of this place we call home, can our disregard of life not quickly extend to the lives of people as well? 

Today our neighbor’s daughter took four little kittens to the animal control facility.  When she spoke to me about it, she said that she regretted having to do it, but the kittens were ‘feral’ and unhealthy.  No one had ever taken the time to show any attention to the mother cat, so the kittens’ relationship with humans consisted of staying just out of reach.  The kittens were undoubtedly euthanized this morning shortly after their arrival at animal control.

Each day thousands of kittens, puppies, cats, dogs, and assorted critters are killed one way or the other.  We have agencies that try to prevent cruelty to any animal, but the fact is that the animals are in an overwhelming majority.  Even if every family in America took in two dogs and cats today, thousands would still be out there roaming the streets and alleys.  And the outlook for their survival—much less their healthy existence—is pretty dismal.

Horses were once the treasure and pride of kings.  Today it almost takes a king’s financial backing in order to keep a horse.  So what happens to the thousands that are not in stables and beautiful green pastures?  They die of neglect.  It is just that simple.  An animal that carries its pride in its head and flying mane can become a bedraggled carcass just as quickly as the dogs and cats roaming the streets unless someone cares for it.

Now the little child that roams the streets is no different than an animal—and almost as dangerous.  It may grow up to become a vicious killer.  It needs loving care, attention, and someone to teach it—to tame it.  The child may belong to a neighbor, but we pay attention if we want to reach out to tame a little heart.  We teach by example.  The child sees how we treat our cat, our dog, and our neighbors.  And the child becomes tame.

None of us can prevent abuse or neglect of all the animals.  And none of us will ever overcome the crises of child abuse in this world.  But each of us can take responsibility where we can, in whatever way we can.  One kitten, one old dog, one little boy at a time can be loved.

"So How Does THAT Concern Me ?"

So How Does THAT Concern Me?

So many of us today would just like to live our lives in peace without having to fuss with anyone over property boundaries, the volume of the neighbor’s music, the color scheme the neighbor chose for his house and garage, the number of pets or children running amok among our flower beds, the little things like property taxes, the price of fuel, the price of food or medical services.  No, those are not the most earth shattering things, but we really would like to be able to just ignore them and enjoy our favorite hobbies or otherwise be able to quietly go about our lives.  But such is life that we are constantly brought up short by some ‘problem’ with a capital P.

One neighbor has caused property values to plummet by parking dilapidated cars all over his yard.  So we ask the city offices to ‘do something’ about it.  Another neighbor has decided to plow up his front yard and plant a garden of cotton, okra, and sunflowers.  The neighborhood children have discovered they can hide there and throw things out at people passing on the sidewalks.  Oh well.  It is HIS yard and kids will be kids.

Some things are just not worth our concern.  It is pointless to complain or worry if things will change in three months, a year, or two years.  My favorite grandmother used to say that no one would know the difference in a few years anyway.  And that is so true of many things that irritate or otherwise grate on our nerves.  But some things do actually matter now—and will matter in years to come.

Animal abuse has probably been around in some form since mankind discovered his ability to chain them up or even eat them.  But seeing abuse of animals hurts the spirit of those who can make a difference.  So, that is one concern that can and should be addressed by everyone.  But is child abuse?  Our youngest son reminded me of an incident that happened when he was little.  He wanted a toy while we were at the grocery store and I said we could not do that.  He threw a hissy fit and got an immediate response from me—a paddling right then and there in the grocery aisle.  If I had done such a thing today, I might have been arrested for child abuse!

Animals and small children need to be corrected immediately to help them associate the behavior with the response.  The response does not have to be terrifically painful, just definitely unpleasant.  Just as we give rewards immediately for good behavior, we have to be able to respond to wrong behavior immediately.  A good parent doesn’t just ignore bad behavior.

Somehow I feel a bit like a neglectful parent when I see our government running amok among our civil rights.  But I will be dipped in kerosene for fleas if I can figure out exactly how to ‘correct’ our government’s behavior.  Voting or not voting doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of difference these days—if it ever did.  I can remember that our city government planned years ago to build a convention center and events complex.  The citizens of our fair city voted it down numerous times, but somehow it managed to slip in there on a ballot and get built anyway.  Now a convention center might be a pretty expensive item for a fairly small city like ours, but some of the ‘items’ on our government’s list are so big that they defy imagination.  Two commas in a figure just about top my ability to imagine an amount.

Even if the government were not spending as freely as a child who stole his brother’s piggy bank and found his way to the candy store, something about the way things are being done—even in the open and semi-above board—makes me suspect that citizen rights are far from being of first consideration these days. 

Oh, I have already written to the Texas governor about Bill 1440 that gives Child Protective Services the right to invade and kidnap our children just like a SWAT team on a mission.  But what about government agencies that MAKE money off of taking away citizen rights?  Whether it is the local drug enforcement people who decide we MIGHT be druggies or CPS who think we are too strict with our children, who gives these people the right to force their way into private homes? 

Today we saw that the government has decided to tax 25 percent of the cost of business cell phone use because they have somehow decided that the normal person (?) uses a business phone for personal use about 25 percent of the time.  Now, when will the government decide it can tax my playing Farm Town because it is an unnecessary addiction similar to alcoholism?  Makes sense to me! 

Being concerned somehow is just not enough when civil rights violations are so ubiquitous and so idiotic.  Some things were never meant to be taxed.  Some rights (ownership, privacy, and self-defense) were never meant to be seized.

There Came a Woman of Samaria

There Came a Woman of Samaria

Former President Jimmy Carter has declared in an article called “Losing My Religion for Equality” that a group of men called The Elders have determined that women are misused and abused due to tradition and religious viewpoints:

"The justification of discrimination against women and girls on grounds of religion or tradition, as if it were prescribed by a Higher Authority, is unacceptable."

We are calling on all leaders to challenge and change the harmful teachings and practices, no matter how ingrained, which justify discrimination against women. We ask, in particular, that leaders of all religions have the courage to acknowledge and emphasize the positive messages of dignity and equality that all the world's major faiths share.

In order not to confuse religion with faith, let’s clarify that neither Jimmy Carter nor any other person is being asked to disavow his or her faith in God in whichever name one knows Him.  Religion is, after all, man’s view of God.  Faith is a gift from God that allows us to believe in that which is not seen.

The subject of woman’s image in the eyes of man has taken many convoluted turns throughout the centuries.  Only literature, and now other forms of entertainment, can give us an accurate measure of how women are or have been perceived.  Literature, especially the Bible, has been instrumental in forging the foundation of men’s opinions about woman’s place in life.  One work that had such a strong influence was Dante’s Inferno.  Even the Church itself could not have prevented such lively and ingenious images from becoming part of man’s concept of woman and of her place in causing so much sorrow.  But not many people read Dante today, so why are the concepts so prevalent? 

Ian Fleming wrote some spy thriller books back in the 50s which became movies in the early 60s.  About the only name more familiar than James Bond is John Wayne. John Wayne was sure to treat a woman with respect, but the James Bond woman played only an ancillary part to preen the male ego and purpose.  Death for a James Bond woman provides realistic, if merely collateral, damage.  The same is true in a later movie called The Bourne Supremacy.  About the only movie that shows respect between a woman and a man in modern times is the new Walt Disney movie UP.

Most people today who have the luxury of belief, faith, and any concept of a higher power have heard of the Christ.  The story of His life and the repetition of the things He said have been the basis for many of the traditions that men have created concerning their place in the world and its order.  Two important stories from His life are quite often ignored.  During the lifetime of Jesus Christ, the people of Samaria were considered less than illegal aliens and squatters upon the land of Jacob.  No Jewish man would even speak to a Samaritan, much less a woman of Samaria.  But Christ did.  He first revealed Himself to the Gentiles through a woman.  He flat out told her that he was the Christ for whom they watched.  Oh, the men of the village came to see Him because of her report, but they were quick to tell her that they believed because of HIM, not because of her part in the revelation.  They missed the point.  HE had shown her respect.

Finally, the woman who loved Jesus was the first to see Him after He arose from the tomb.  And it was the women who went by themselves to wrap in spices the body they expected to find in the tomb.  No man went with them to help in any way.   The women served Him to the bitter end.  And it was their voices which brought the good news of His resurrection.

Oh, no one has to believe in one man’s version of the creation or the names of a creator if that belief can be avoided, but we are all the result of an ongoing process of becoming something other than individuals or egos.  We share this planet and its destiny.  The final result for all lives can be much more than ideas, beliefs, and determinations if we treat each other with dignity and respect.

Trash Trends & Happiness Index

Trash Trends and Happiness Index

The Fourth of July was on a Friday this year.  Tuesdays and Fridays are trash pickup days in this neck of the woods, so we notice things like the absence of the usual services when a holiday rolls around.  Oh, Christmas is always a problem with most families considering all the boxes and extra wrappings and trappings that require disposal, but on our little street that occasion is just like another week.

The family across the street has enumerable boxes associated with the liquids needed for dialysis treatment for their granddaughter, but they also have a large family and assorted visitors during the week.  Their trash can often overflows before the two pickup days.  Our trash can is normally reserved for two old fogies and two domestically spoilt rotten animals, so it often isn't even half full by the time the second pick up day arrives.

We saw an article about the happiest countries on the Internet and began to talk about how the environmental footprint—that index of consumerism and use of natural resources—differentiates one nation from another.  Finally we began to examine our own level of happiness, contentment, and consumer demands by a history of our trash cans.

Forty years ago we still burned the papers, boxes, and assorted trash in a barrel and paid to have it dumped every month or so.  Then our fair city banned burning and initiated a garbage service.  We had one silver can with a tight fitting lid which quickly got tossed by the garbage men.  As soon as we bought a new can and wired the lid to the handle, the men became known as sanitation engineers—which just meant that their talent for disconnecting the lid from the handle was recognizable as a service. 

This exchange of services and increasingly diverse types of garbage cans meant that we now had two metal cans recognizable only by the dents and one tough plastic garbage can that lasted one entire summer before disintegrating under the swift kick of one of the ‘sanitation engineers.’

The cost of the curbside services began to rise with the price of the water we consumed for some reason.  Perhaps one’s happiness index might be found in correlation to the amount of water consumed and its equivalent in waste for disposal.  Whatever the reason, the city priced our happiness based on water consumption for years. 

Then the services changed a few years ago.  Each home has one rather large rollaway trash bin that is collected twice weekly.  Some discussion has made the rounds about restricting the collection days to once a week in order to save money.  However, our sanitation engineers have plenty to do and have to be paid weekly whether or not they work, so for the time being, we are happily serviced twice a week.

Now the point of this observation of our trash index might be that we have begun to consume excessively in comparison to our consumption of forty years ago.  But let’s examine the contents of the trash can next to the kitchen stove:  one relatively large box for the popcorn packages, two ramen noodle plastic wrappers, two Mcbags, two small Mcdrink cups, egg shells (that used to be placed in a compost heap), a small carton that once contained ice cream drumsticks for the grandchildren, a cat food sack, and two cat food metal cans, and some cucumber peels along with the remains of a couple of tomatoes (again, items which at one time were placed in a compost heap).  Multiply those contents or some quite similar for seven days, and it is easy to see how happy we must be.  Or we could just use the bathroom scales to see how jolly we have become in the past 40 years.

If our trash is not an indication of happiness, and our weight is worrisome, perhaps we must find a different index of happiness.  Personally, I think seeing the grandchildren tie strings from the front porch to the tree out front in a spider web of imagination is about as happy as life can get.  We can always push the trash down just a bit more in the bottom of that big bin if the kids need more ice cream or popsicles.

They Grow Up

They Grow Up

By this Thursday, at least two things will have happened.  Our youngest grandchild will have her fifth birthday, and our daughter will return for her two boys.  It seems so strange that the baby girl has grown up so quickly.  Hardly any time at all has gone by since we sat down at Thanksgiving dinner with our son and his family and waited for the blessing to be asked.  And then they told us that they were going to be parents to another child.  They both seemed a bit shocked by the entire situation--though surely by then they knew the process.

But now the little girl is going to start "real" school this fall.  And our oldest grandson will be in seventh grade.  Wasn't he just a little boy not too long ago?

Today I asked the boys to be careful with their granddad and watch after him while they went target shooting.  He doles out the .22 shells one at a time so he can be sure who is doing what, but I want them to be sure they are listening to him.  My own dad KNEW we would listen to him by the time he let us use a gun.  But our boys are a bit like the dogs on the new movie UP--squirrel!!  Their attention can be totally off a subject in a heartbeat.

We took these boys to see the Walt Disney movie UP and laughed until our sides hurt.  Both boys would wait a few minutes between shouts of 'squirrel' before they would start laughing again, but otherwise, they thoroughly enjoyed the ideas behind the movie.  I could have cried in a few places, but perhaps it is just as well that the boys kept me laughing.  We are all adventurers at heart.  But adventures are so much more worthwhile when they are shared.  These two boys will share the adventure of growing up together--even if it is ever so fast.

Each child should have a sibling or at least a cousin with whom to share childhood.  Oh, we can compare sizes, eye color, hair thickness, and all that other silly stuff, but what really matters is sharing a time in life that only comes once.  None of our children or grandchildren will ever be perfect, but they can learn to appreciate family ties.  Sharing a grandparent or two helps, but they also need to have experiences together that they can recall when they are grown.

Now I know what some siblings would think: Oh, never again!  My brother was a character and a good brother.  But that did not keep him from throwing rocks at the hen house while I was in it and scaring the liver out of me.  But I remember he also tried to teach me to swim and to drive.  I never have been much good at either, but that wasn't his fault.  We can all recall some of the things that a sibling did that wasn't the best thing for us at the time.  But we can usually also recall some of the things that made for good times or better understanding.

Whatever life brings to our grandchildren, I hope that they can look back someday and recall that they were loved and appreciated for who they are/were.  And perhaps when they get together with cousins, they can share again some of those memories of growing up.

Grandparenting

Grandparenting

Somewhere in the hall of fame for strange critters, the grandparent must have a place.  He or she feels responsible for the little darlins while enjoying the realization that the situation is generally temporary.  The hall of fame has several categories of grandparents; so for the edification of those who have yet to experience one of life’s final ironies, the following enumeration of their characteristics is offered.

The all-permissive grandparent may be either male or female, but the entire idea behind being permissive is to allow the grandchild/ren to go home and tell the parents that ANYTHING is permissible at Granddad’s or Grandmother’s house.  Candy, late hours, bouncing on the bed in the back bedroom, coffee in the morning with the grandparents, just about anything not allowed at home is allowed by these grandparents.  We won’t go into the reasoning behind this kind of grandparenting because some mothers and fathers feel that an insidious—if not vicious—delight is expressed when their children are allowed non-standard child fare or activities.

The “we will buy it for you” grandparents may be about the most dangerous type in existence.  Children who inherit this type of grandparent will have considerable difficulty in learning to value doing things the hard way or earning their own treasures.  Parents who must deal with the grandparents must find a way to manage their frustrations and their children at the same time.  Only if the grandparents can be persuaded to invest in long-term values like education or real properties will the goodness of their intentions have worth to the grandchildren or parents.

The most blessed children are those who have grandparents who will share their stories of growing up and a history of their own family.  Children don’t see themselves as their parents do, so a grandparent’s memories can shed insight upon both the child and the grandchild when traditions are involved. 

The story about the daughter asking her mom why she always cut the roast edges off before putting it all in the pan illustrates one of the funnier traditions.  The mother couldn’t tell her daughter why she cut the roast up in that way except that she always had seen HER mother do it that way.  The mother called the great grandmother and asked her why she cut the roast up before putting it in the pot.  The answer was simple:  HER pot was not big enough for the full roast to spread out.

Our parents knew us as children.  Their memories bear repeating for all concerned.  We had grandchildren before we ever heard of the term ADHD, but now we understand why our parents thought their children were scatter-brained and never still.  And believe it or not, we were well-behaved, good children.  But the world we lived in had very little resemblance to that of today.  We rode real bikes with one speed—whatever our legs would pump up.  We rode all over town without our mom worrying about us. 

The neighbors all knew us and had us run errands for them.  Our toys included hop toads, horny toads, grass lizards, and June bugs.  We played in the rain, got muddy, got dirty, got hot, and got cold with the seasons.  And all the time we had parents and grandparents who loved us and cheered us on.  We were so blessed to have both.

If a child has even one grandparent, a certain amount of history will come out about the child’s parent.  But the best part about having a grandparent is seeing the continuity of life in a family, from one generation to the next, with love.

Heart Healthy

Heart Healthy

Today Fang wanted vanilla ice cream, chocolate fudge, and nuts. Now that sounds like a good start on a banana split to me. Of course, all the ingredients have to be sugar free and low in carbs. That makes life interesting, but thanks to our country's lifestyle, so many people need sugar-free products that it is much easier to find a good selection of products in almost any store.

While I was picking out Fang's favorite Braum's ice cream, I noticed a man with a rather large protrusion from his chest to his lap. This protrusion reminded me of an article I read about measuring our diabetes risk with a ruler or--as it would have had to be in this man's case--with a yardstick. My thoughts were that the fellow needed to put back something or go for a nice healthy walk.

Now, I would never pick on folks who are overweight--if for no other reason than that I count myself among the many who are. But since Fang just returned from quadruple bypass surgery only yesterday, I am more aware than ever of our need to control what we put in our bodies and how much exercise we really need. Genetics plays a big part in our tendency to become diabetic or to have heart disease, but we can do so much to help ourselves.

Fang was especially blessed to have a very healthy vascular system--except for four blockages. He has always been active and keeps his mind busy learning things and exploring the richness of being a grandfather. To put it bluntly, he is a happy man. But lack of oxygen to his heart has caused problems this past several months that just seemed to come out of nowhere. And we never suspected that his heart was the problem and would never have known had he not had a simple EKG done in our doctor's office.

The long and short of my thoughts today is that life is too wonderful to throw away or to treat carelessly. Happiness is a choice; to some degree, health is among our choices as well. Take care of yourselves; we need every gripey old man and woman around here to support the
doctors who take Medicare.

Racism

Racism

Recently some companies decided that they were not being properly represented in the marketplace by sponsoring a nationally syndicated talk show.  The host managed to comment in a censorious manner upon the ultimate authorities in America, the President and Congress.  He cast aspersions upon what he considered to be corrupt, suspect, or at least unworthy intentions as demonstrated by forthcoming legislation and contradictory utterances that seemed to make a mockery of truth and forthrightness. 

His remarks bring to mind—at least to my mind—two questions:  What is racist and in what possible contexts can the term be properly used? 

Race is defined—other than by genetic characteristics—as those united by common history, language, or cultural traits.  Racial is defined as pertaining to or characteristic of one race or the races of humankind; or between races: the terms are racial harmony and racial relations.  Racism is defined thus:  a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one’s own race is superior; or a policy, system of government, etc., based on such a doctrine; hatred or intolerance of another race or other races. 

One assumes that the racist would be anyone who makes a remark or otherwise indicates that he or she holds the beliefs of racism.

Do any of our countrymen consider themselves superior to John Q. Public or Janice Q. Jones of Jonesville?

The television and the Internet provide a wonderful window on America.  How realistic the view might be is another question.  But the definition may have to be stretched across the screen or compared to the sites found on the Web:  racism is a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races determine cultural or individual achievement.  The teachers who discovered that their students WOULD learn if the expectation was given to them have proven that individual achievement has nothing to do with race.  So much for that idea!

Television has presented the entire world with the extreme contrasts between those who have much and those who have little to nothing.  Whether it is the ‘star’ of some soap opera, an athlete, or someone who has inherited an insane amount of wealth, the lives of those who have something make a couple of things obvious:  wealth can make a difference in the manner one eats and in the manner one goes to jail.

Does the wealthy person fit the definition of racist?  Does wealth cause hatred or intolerance of others?  It is more likely that the wealthy person never considers those who have no wealth.   Of course, no overall judgment can be made about any people:  wealthy, healthy, wise, talented, or fumbling.   The importance of knowing those who consider themselves above anyone else is the effect on the rest of us.  So who makes the laws we must follow?  Who consider themselves above those same laws?  Who are the racists?

Does Diogenes still speak?

Seasonal Affective Disorder

Seasonal Affective Disorder

So SAD Season

Each year thousands of people begin to lose any sense of happiness as one season changes to another.  Seasonal Affective Disorder may affect as much as 6 to 14 percent of the U.S. population with an even higher percentage in Alaska and among women more than in men.  SAD symptoms may be acerbated by allergies to anything from ragweed to stale, indoor air, but most scientists seem to agree that SAD is caused by a lack of sunshine and its benefits.

The connection of SAD to allergies has not been proven yet simply because the lack of sleep associated with allergy symptoms tends to mimic the symptoms of SAD—a blue feeling, difficulty waking up in the morning, tendency to overeat, especially craving carbohydrates, lack of energy, difficulty concentrating on tasks, and a withdrawal from friends, family, and social activities.  Those affected by SAD tend to be depressed, pessimistic, and cheerless.

Although the medical community has recommended to their patients bright light therapy, medication, ionized-air administration, cognitive-behavioral therapy, and even carefully administered doses of melatonin, the average person can do much to treat his or her own symptoms once the problem is recognized.

Exercise—especially aerobic [oxygen absorbing]—and increased outdoor activity on sunny days can make a huge difference in mood and physical health for anyone, but for those who already suffer from any kind of depression, outdoor exercise and vitamin D [from fish oils or from eating more fish] will make the world seem like a happier place.

One would think that the changing of the seasons could do more than signal the passing of time, but for at least one young poet the changing of the seasons simply strains his personal view:

        This Autumn

I hate it when my mistakes follow me from season to season
Youthful heart-struck emotions that last for the moment
Just the moment
I am a distant uncle
An absent father
A loving son with good intentions
And a brother no one should pray for
The distance in my eyes is as clear as the day
And I don’t imagine my lover spends much time wondering why
Once again fall has fallen
I don’t expect more than gray skies
Winds that cut through me like thin sharp sheets of steel
That yes, will earn me a living
My cigarettes, beer and heartache—what this working man lives for
Never mind the dreams these stars dream
In this land of stars
LA holds me cold tonight
It holds me against all I truly know
Seasons that leave me begging for the next
Seasons that mark the years like gray hairs
Like the lines that cut from the corners of my eyes
As I peer into the setting sun
Dearly troubled about, yes, one more autumn
         Hanan J. Dickerson October 2009

For additional information and assistance, please visit:

It's a SAD Tome of the Year (Mayo Clinic)

Seasonal Affective Disorder (National Institute of Health)

Non-Political Government

Non-Political Government

No intelligent person is without an opinion, or a viewpoint, however warped or skewed either might be.  Intelligence has no immunity from stupidity or egotism.  But generally the intelligent person has something in common with his fellow man—a sense of right and wrong.  Today some of the leaders of our nation have told us that THEY hold the hallmarks or standards of right and wrong—that they alone have the intelligence and common sense understanding to guide the rest of the nation in the best path for the common good.

When a standard applies to ALL, it is truly a standard.  When some exempt themselves from the same standard that applies to others, it no longer can be called a standard.  Government can be called a standard for those governed, but it MUST apply to all equally.  In America, this concept goes back to that one statement with which most are familiar:  “all men are created equal.”

Apparently, if what is shown on television and seen or read on the Internet can be considered any indication of the concept of ‘equality,’ NOT every American has been created equal.  The average American equals a source of income or self-aggrandizement for those who have bought a position in ‘government.’  Those in government positions are not now, nor conceivably ever have been considered ‘equal’ to the rest of Americans.  They are ABOVE the rules and regulations that apply to Joe and Jane Citizen.

Joe and Jane Citizen may or may not have a bank account, a home, a means of transportation, and decent food that must be prepared daily by one of the household members.  Of all the ‘things’ that appeal to them as desirable, they generally understand the difference between a desire and a necessity and are willing to forego the pleasure of more ‘things’ until the family budget can accommodate such a purchase.  Either one or both of these family members work diligently to fulfill the desires of the rest of the family, sacrificing individual desires for the good of the entire family.

Joe and Jane also have hopes for the future and compassion for those who seem less fortunate than themselves.  Joe works and Jane volunteers her time to help build a home or to volunteer in some capacity to serve the community.  Neither take for granted that life will give them what they need or desire simply because they exist; they understand that effort is required for whatever they earn.  But they are willing to do whatever is necessary to provide for their family and to secure their future as they conceive it.

The ‘government’—those in charge of determining the value applied to the lives of all the Joes and Janes of America—have their own standard of compassion and their own set of hopes for the future.  No concept of earning respect or serving exists in the standards of those involved in ‘government’ unless the person has already proven himself or herself to be a servant of those governed.  One wonders how many servants currently exist in government.  Can a few servants offset the entrenched attitudes of self-importance among those who have come to feel superior to all the Joes and Janes?

What made America great from the very beginning?  The servants who were willing to work for the good of all and who realized that they were, indeed, servants made the difference.  Individuals were willing to set aside whatever could have created personal comfort to assist in creating security and comfort for all.  It was not the ‘government’ they created that made America what it should be; it was the individual who was willing to sacrifice self for others.  How much of that sacrifice is left in our government today?

Gifts and Gambles

Gifts and Gambles

Sooner or later—not just at Christmas time or for some other special holiday—we all end up giving a gift to someone.  Now not everyone is as paranoid about gift giving as I am, but let’s just assume that someone else feels nearly as uncertain about what to give to whom and in what manner.  Gift giving is NOT easy, despite commercials to the contrary.  Expecting a pleased reaction is like gambling on the lottery.

Certain factors affect what can be given to whom and how.  For instance, a beach pail with shovel and assorted summer accessories for the beach just doesn’t cut it during winter.  Never mind that all those beach things were on sale two months ago when the stores were trying to clear out merchandise!  Not many families with small children will be going to a beach during the winter—much less allow the kids to play in the wet sand.

Then there are those leftover boxes of Valentine candy that were on sale right after that holiday.  True, Aunt Julie would love the candy, but she might wonder why it is frozen solid and question whether the chocolate Easter bunnies and Cadbury eggs would have stayed good even kept in your deep freeze.  Personally, I think the combination of red hearts and colorful eggs would be quite attractive.  I can skip the plastic grass easily enough—even if it was cheap.

Our family doctor moves into his new office next week.  I have the perfect gift for him if I can just find a nice gold string for a bow.  He is a cowboy type who has some carved cacti and spurs in his office waiting room.  So my old antique barbed wire should be just about right for an ‘office warming’ present.  That wire has been in the family for a long time—so long I can’t remember the last time one of the kids got cut on it.  Like I said, it’s the perfect gift for a doctor’s office.

Gifts should be surprises and fun to give or get.  I like the song that Rod Stewart sings that asks, “Whose gonna bring you a broken arrow; whose gonna bring you a bottle of rain?  Here he comes, walkin’ across the water.”  The only one I know who gave the ultimate gift to ALL of us still gives it to us every day.  And I am still surprised that He loves us.

Safety Catch

The Safety Catch

Each weapon I ever saw had at least one safety device to prevent unintentional discharge.  We were always taught to treat each weapon as if it were loaded, even if we had just removed all the ammunition.  We were taught to respect weapons for what they were—useful, but very dangerous tools.

In the past ten to fifteen years, we learned to use another dangerous tool—the Internet.  However, the Internet has a less obvious safety device than any weapon.  The first obvious safety device for any tool should be common sense.  However, not everyone has or uses common sense.  Obviously that is true of those who use the Internet just as much as it is of those who carry weapons.

Privacy on the Internet is a joke.  Nothing that can be heard on a cell phone or seen on the Internet can remain hidden or private.  This certain knowledge can be regarded as the warning on the carton of ammunition—potentially dangerous and explosive.  User is solely responsible for outcome.  Even if posted, this warning probably would be ignored by Internet users just as often as it is ignored by those who load weapons.

Whether it is a princess, an athlete, the son of a college dean, or a politician, what is said or written in private is no longer private when it goes to the Internet. 

Words and opinions can be dangerous when used irresponsibly.  But which is worse?  Is irresponsible use of words any worse than the demands of those who feel they have the right to judge what was supposed to be a private message?

 Many companies now control their e-mail systems to prevent unfair business practices or other insider damage control.  But when did our high schools and universities begin to practice the same type of control?  When young people post foolishness on a social Internet site, the foolishness is their problem—not that of the school.  When a college student privately posts critical remarks about his school, does that give the school the right to harass the student?

One step further leads us to public words spoken, written, or posted online:  does any government entity have the right to judge, condemn, or coerce a person who is critical of our government or any laws passed by our government?  The obvious answer sounds like a safety catch—The Patriot Act. 

No one wants anarchy in our country or even acts or words to incite rebellion.  But the Patriot Act can take away our right to express our honest—even though critical—opinions.  Restricting freedom of speech is the same as saying that we are too foolish to be responsible citizens.  Yet somehow freedom of speech always seemed like a good idea.  Just as competition seems to help markets grow, freedom of speech seems to help us develop ideas and learn more about our fellow man.  What happens when we remove the safety catch on democracy?

Perhaps it is true: it is the empty weapon which kills. 

Washtub

Not Your Mother’s Washtub

Our lives just seem to become more convenient every day, so it seems a horrible shock when incredible doesn’t work the way it should.  If the TV should lose its signal, we hardly know what to do beyond griping and snorting—especially if we miss a play during the World Series.  It is difficult to imagine the days when folks had to listen to sporting events on the radio.

My grandmother thought her life had become almost heavenly when she finally got a ringer washer out on the farm.  Our fourth or fifth washer went out the other day, and we went to our local lumber yard the very next day and brought home another one because we consider that appliance essential.  It is strange how some things have taken their own positions on our list of priorities.  A telephone is one item on that list.  Our cell phone isn’t all that technical.  I can actually use it to make and receive calls and even have some numbers installed in its memory—which is extra nice now that my memory seems to balk on occasion.  Most of the children in our extended family have texting on their cell phones down to a speed system, however.  And eventually they will consider their ‘old’ phones too obsolete for use.

We seem somehow to have lost that sense of adventure that came naturally with living in the country.  We never knew when we would find a snake in the hen house or an armadillo in the garden, but recently it seemed like a very strange inconvenience to have our dog make the acquaintance of a skunk.  When HarleyB returned to the back door reeking of essence of skunk, I was able to access the formula for removal of skunk oil immediately by using the Internet.  Using peroxide, baking soda, and soap to clean the dog, we were able to allow him to finish spending the night in the house.  It occurred to me that I would not have known what to use to clean him if it had not been for the convenience of instant information from the Internet.

The contrast between what our lives were like 50 or 60 years ago and our lives today may seem silly in a few short years for one reason or another.  When contrasted with much of the world, we are so blessed. Our forefathers wrestled with this land during years of drought, floods, storms, and other natural disasters. But the blessings came despite the circumstances. Opportunistic scoundrels or gifted individuals, they gave back to the world what they were given, full measure, shaken down.  Giving back became the American way, but it was always with a generous willingness.   May we continue to be a blessing to others no matter what changes may develop in this world.

Generations

Generations

Today the great-granddaughter worried about those two old people she visits in that little town where her mother grew up.  She thought they might need help to get some groceries to their house because they couldn't possibly get out in this snow and ice after the storm.  So her mom used Face Book to contact the old folks’ daughter and from that point the groceries were assured of arrival before the next storm came through.

Children are amazing—simply amazing.  The youngest show love in small ways, but their hearts are just as brim full as that of the most loving adult.  Oh, sometimes we think that children learn love from being loved, but that just doesn't quite ring true.  More likely, each child comes already full of love and just learns more and more ways of showing it with age.  Given loving parents, the child will quickly learn to show concern for others and share the love in practical ways just as this child did today.

Probably the quickest way to understand how easily a child can love is to see a child’s concern in action.  During the blizzard that hit our part of Texas this past week, some young kids got out shovels and managed to help a few cars and trucks escape the snow trap on one of the major highways.  The children—not teenagers nor young adults, but children—didn't stay around to be thanked.  They cut a path through the high drifts and left.  But they showed their concern for others just as surely as if they had passed out hot coffee and warm blankets.

But it does not take blizzard conditions to see the joy and love in the face of children.  This past summer we watched young ones open envelopes of butterflies at the River Bend Nature Center.  They were fascinated and concerned that their butterflies would be able to fly.  Each child realized that life is delicate and is held in the steady hand of someone who helps life continue.  Oh, they realized that a butterfly’s life is temporary; but for now, this moment, they could open an envelope and release that life to freedom.

A minister once said that love is selfish among children and parents, but he was a grown man with his own problems.  For children need no motive for love.  It is enough for them that they have something to give of freely—something they can afford to give in full measure, shaken down.  Oh to be able to continue to free the butterflies and watch over the old folks!

Do You Want to Know?

Do You Want to Know?

Customers are some of the most sensitive people in the world.  When the product they are considering is a bit out of their normal sphere of knowledge, customers can be almost defensive because they may feel intimidated by the salesperson or what they consider to be the “expert” about the subject.  Whether a person is buying a new tech gadget like a phone or a service such as rehabilitation exercises and classes, the customer should be treated as an intelligent person rather than as a child to be taught or as a negligent student to be scolded.

Recently we met up with an excellent sales person who rolled her eyes, growled, shouted, and otherwise showed her irritation with the phone service connection which was needed to activate our new phone.  Never once did she show any indication that her displeasure had been caused by our inability to complete the same communication with that company. 

When she finished and gave us the paperwork, indicating the pieces of information that were essential to save, she made the comment that these companies who made products that required a call to a foreign country or to an automated system should have to spend their days shouting into a fuzzy call system in order to obtain a pay check.  We thanked her for her patience on our behalf, and she went on about her business with a cheery demeanor.  We were very glad to have had her help since she obviously knew what to do and what to expect.

Not every situation is so pleasant.  Lifestyle changes involving foods meet those criteria.  Recently published articles concerning genetic tendencies and a body’s ability to switch on or off certain enzymes have changed the way nutritionists have to look at foods and how their substances are absorbed within the body. 

Furthermore, scientists have observed that certain food combinations can change the body’s ability to convert foods into energy.  Basically, changing one’s eating habits may help considerably when attempting to reduce cholesterol levels along with the use of drugs, but even certain changes or stresses on the body may change its ability to use nutrients.

No one minds putting forth his or her best efforts, but whether it is lifting weights, going to nutrition classes, or losing weight, the customer should be encouraged and appreciated rather than scolded or treated like a red-headed step child.  Customers don’t come back when they expect negative feedback. 

Even teachers have to learn to cheerfully help students realize that the full load can be nibbled away one spoonful at a time.  A nutritionist must learn to load her students with piles of good things they can choose rather than focus on the necessary restrictions.  No one is so foolish as to expect to eat as much or any type of foods available, but it is nice to hear suggestions for healthy changes rather than doom and gloom about cholesterol, blood sugars, and weight loss. 

If you want customers to return, be positive!

You Don’t Have to Be Crazy to Work Here

You Don’t Have to Be Crazy to Work Here

The millions of jobs needed by Americans could almost be funny if one’s sense of humor were entirely warped.  In the first place, some of the jobs actually available would set a new standard for the show Dirty Jobs.  For instance, experienced infant to three-year-old teachers are needed for classes.  Just WHAT could one teach an infant?  Or better yet, what is that three year old going to teach?  But did anyone notice that the postal workers are taking part time jobs sacking groceries?  Maybe a new television series is about to be born—Making Ends Meet in This Economy.

The flip side of looking for a job has to be an employer’s hiring practices.  How many felons or former drug addicts can one nursing home hire?  Does a business or vocational school really have to prove that its teachers have degrees?  Does its financial aid officer or its director need to be honest and law abiding before taking the students' expense checks to the bank?

Congress has proven that honesty is not a high priority for public office, so is it any wonder that some privately owned business schools are not too careful about checking out the records and backgrounds on their teachers?  One school in Texas hired an instructor for its computer program without ever seeing a transcript of college classes.  No degree.  The same school hired another instructor who had just been fired from a local high school.  When her car was repossessed later that week, a meth lab was discovered in the trunk.

One instructor used to open the local newspaper and say that he was going to check roll for his classes by seeing who had been arrested the night before.  No school can refuse to serve those who have criminal backgrounds, yet failing to check the backgrounds of instructors seems bizarre at the very least.  At one time public schools had a standard for teacher certification that included a criminal background check—or at least the teacher had to certify that he/she had never been convicted of a felony.  Unfortunately, that standard does not apply to all schools—or apply to many occupations.  The minister, the vocational school instructor, the nursing home director, the child care worker—guess which one or ones have/has a felony conviction.  No, insanity is not a prerequisite for being hired in some positions, but sooner or later one might have to wonder what the employer was looking for when he was hiring.

Pet Peeves

Pet Peeves

The spring garden catalogs come to us around this time of year.  Oh, they make me drool over flowers, bushes, vegetables, and dreams of dirt that crumbles easily through my fingers without any burrs or stickers to mar the enjoyment of gardening.  Oh, the warmer weather and the scent of freshly turned earth is something for dreams and daydreaming. 

The realities are not always quite up to the level of those daydreams; in fact, after years of planting and watching hail, high winds, and even drought ruin my efforts to produce succulent tomatoes and edible salad greens, my expectations are much closer to culling through the seeds to find some that are bug, wind, and heat resistant enough to live for the brief period of time that we gallantly call spring in North Central Texas.

The Indians who traveled from the East Coast to Indian Territory brought with them some beans that produce such gorgeous blooms that I replant them each year in an effort to produce a beautiful corner of the yard to face the road in front of our house.  Those beans have reproduced for four years now from beans I have saved from each succeeding planting.  Aptly enough named ‘Survival Beans,’ the plants don’t die back until frost and the beans continue to dry in the pods until removed by hand.  For some reason, the bugs don’t eat these strong vines and the blooms, leaves, or beans.

My father-in-law used to say that he always planted three seeds for every one plant he expected to harvest: one seed for the ground, one seed for the bugs, and one seed for his stomach.  And yes, he planted his seeds in this general area of Texas, but he was a much better gardener than I am.  He knew how to use water quite effectively.

Even if a can of green beans did not cost 72 cents in the store, I much prefer green beans fresh out of the garden.  A squash freshly picked and sliced up raw in a salad is something only short of heaven, and a juicy tomato hidden beneath netting and allowed to ripen naturally away from bugs and birds’ beaks is a treasure only box turtles and a determined gardener deserve. 

Oh, we are sure to waste water and plenty of sweat out there in the dirt this spring, but I will do it again and again as long as I can still bend over or get down on my knees in the dirt.  But please!  When will those companies quit sending me pictures of perfect veggies and fruits that make my efforts seem so pitiful?  I guess they are sure that hope springs eternal in the breasts of all gardeners.  Yes, the check is in the mail for some more of those lovely berry vines.

Next Article coming March 10: "Pet Peeves"

"Realities are not always quite up to the level of daydreams.... "

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