Friday, December 25, 2009

The Santa Hoax

I freely admit that I made a lot of mistakes as a father. There were many times that I was not as patient and loving as I should have been with my children. But there is one thing I absolutely did get right: I vowed that I would never lie to my children, and I have kept that vow.

There were a few occasions when I deferred an answer until they were older, and a couple of times when I invoked my fifth amendment rights to avoid embarrassing revelations about transgressions committed in my wayward youth. But I never lied to them - about anything - even Santa Claus.

The whole Santa thing has always been a pet peeve of mine, and I'll tell you why.

When I was a kid, my parents, like most other parents, thought they were giving me a gift by telling me that Santa Claus would be bringing me presents on Christmas morning. When I was very young, I believed them without question. But as I got older, sometime around 1st or 2nd grade, I began to have my doubts.

You don't have to be a rocket scientist to question just how this obese old guy gets around the entire world in one night. That whole flying reindeer tale should have been my first tip-off. Even to a goofy 2nd grader, this story is a stretch.

When I finally got my parents to confess to the Santa hoax, I felt like I had been bamboozled. How could I have ever been so gullible to believe a story like that in the first place? And what other things were my parents making up stories about? When I got older, I knew I didn't want to make my kids feel that way about me.

As parents, we attempt to teach our children a lot of important things. If we expect them to respect us, and trust us, then we need to establish a track record of credibility.

So I vowed that I would never lie to my children. I did not want to fill their heads with tales about Santa, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and all the other assorted childhood fantasies, because I wanted to make sure that they would believe me when I had something really important to tell them.

If I would lie to them about Santa and the Tooth Fairy, wouldn't they have a legitimate reason, as they grew up, to wonder if I was telling them the truth about Jesus? That was a bridge that I never wanted to have to cross. My kids had to know that God was real, and that they could trust me when I told them about him.

Lest you think I was some old Scrooge, I never tried to steal the wonder and joy of Christmastime from my kids. I simply told them that Santa was pretend, but that it was fun to pretend, and it was OK for them to pretend about Santa if they wished. They could pretend about anything they wanted, as long as they KNEW it was pretend, and not reality.

Kids have a natural gift for fantasy and game-playing, so they were totally OK with this concept. They would talk about Santa, and visit Santa at the mall, but deep down inside they knew they were just pretending. And they knew that I respected them enough to be honest with them.

There were some problems over the years when my kids would insist on sharing this knowledge with friends of theirs who actually did believe in Santa. I think there were a few parents unhappy with me. But what can I say? Truth is truth.

So Merry Christmas everybody! If you enjoy the whole Santa thing, I apologize for dissing your holiday tradition. But I can tell you, with 100% accuracy, that there is a much greater joy to be found this Christmas season.

Because the true story is, there really was a baby Jesus, born to be our Savior and Lord. You can read all about him in the Gospels, and I would encourage you to do so this Christmas season.

Emmanuel..."God with us"...the divine eternal creator...humbling himself to be born here and live among men. What an incredible sacrifice for God to make on our behalf! This story is so amazing that it is hard for people to believe it's true.

Until you ask God to open your eyes, you won't believe it either.

Historians are a bit fuzzy on the time line, but I can live with that. The exact date is not crucial, but the reality of the event marks a turning point in human history.

The plain fact is that Jesus was born, in a stable in Bethlehem, to a virgin named Mary and her husband Joseph, one evening about 2000 years ago. As God incarnate, he came here to die for our sins, save us from hell, and offer us the gift of eternal life.

I wouldn't lie to you about a thing like that.

Friday, December 11, 2009

What I Do Not Want For Christmas


No doubt you are among the millions of readers of this blog who toss and turn, night after night, wondering what to get me for Christmas.

As a public service, please allow me to put your minds at ease. I am easy to please. Any thoughtful trinket you may wish to present to me will be appreciated, with the exception of the following:

1. Barack Obama Chia Bust -- You might think I'm making this up, but such an atrocity is on the shelves. For reasons too numerous to mention, I do not want one. And no commemorative plates, either.

2. Hair care products -- Sadly, I am fast approaching the point where these are unnecessary. If I do receive any hair care products for Christmas, I will probably just re-gift them to John Kerry or Donald Trump.

3. Lottery Tickets -- Is there any crappier present than a lottery ticket? Scratch it and throw it away...wheeee! I've always considered the lottery a stealth tax on foolish people -- please don't make me a party to that! If I am ever hit by lightning, I will know is it time to buy a lottery ticket, because I will have the same chances of winning the lottery as I did of getting struck by the lightning.

4. Speedo Swim Trunks -- Though I have worked diligently to maintain myself in peak physical condition over the years, it is unbecoming to flaunt it. Modesty dictates that I keep my rock-hard physique appropriately covered lest I cause a riot at the beach.

5. Fruitcake -- The phantom terror of every Christmas season. How can you eat something that never deteriorates? Who knows how old that thing is? I've heard stories that archeologists found pieces of perfectly preserved fruit cake in the stomach of King Tut, and they still tasted just fine. It's the re-gifting item that keeps on giving, year after year after year.

6. Star Certificate -- Every year I hear these commercials. For only $54 you can name a star after anyone you wish. All names will be registered with the International Star Registry. You get a customized certificate! Right. If you're going to present me with such a lame gift, at least upgrade me to planet status. Stars are so last year.

7. European Shoulder Bag -- Let me be clear: although I am totally secure in my male identity, and in touch with my inner woman, I have to draw the line somewhere. You can call it a shoulder bag, but Seinfeld had it right: it's a man-purse. No way, Jose. I can handle the fat wallet. I can even handle a fanny-pack. But no man-purse, please!

Now that you know what to avoid, let the shopping begin. I can't wait for you to surprise me.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

President Lincoln Knew Who To Thank


These days, in post-Christian America, we suffer a chronic (and perhaps terminal) case of historical ignorance.

For example, many are unaware that our tradition of celebrating Thanksgiving on the last Thursday in November was established by
Abraham Lincoln at the height of the civil war.

Lincoln's proclamation holds valuable lessons for us today. To gain some perspective on how far we have drifted from our foundations, try to imagine President Barack Obama speaking the following words in a televised presidential address in 2009.

Here is Lincoln's 1863 Thanksgiving Proclamation:

It is the duty of nations, as well as of men, to owe their dependence upon the overruling power of God, to confess their sins and transgressions in humble sorrow, yet with assured hope that genuine repentance will lead to mercy and pardon. And to recognize the sublime truth announced in the Holy Scriptures--and proven by all history--that those nations are blessed whose God is the Lord.

We know that by His divine law, nations like individuals are subject to punishments and chastisements in this world. May we not justify fear that the awful calamity of Civil War, which now desolates the land, may be a punishment inflicted upon us for our presumptuous sins--to the needful end of our national reformation as a whole people?

We have been the recipients of the choicest bounties of heaven. We have been preserved these many years in peace and prosperity. We have grown in numbers, wealth and power as no other nation has ever grown.

But we have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace, and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us. And we have vainly imagined in the deceitfulness of our hearts that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own. Intoxicated with unbroken success, we have become too self-sufficient to feel the necessity of redeeming and preserving grace--too proud to pray to the God that made us.

It has seemed to me fit and proper that God should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people.

I do, therefore, invite my fellow citizens in every part of the United States, and also those who are at sea, and those who are sojourning in foreign lands, to set apart and observe the last Thursday of November as a day of thanksgiving and praise to our benevolent Father who dwelleth in the heavens.

A. Lincoln

Friday, November 20, 2009

Thinking of Thanking Anyone?

My grandchildren enjoy watching videos of Jay-Jay the Jet Plane. If you don't have small children around the house, you may not be familiar with Jay-Jay, but trust me, he is really big with the pre-school crowd.

Recently, while I was watching a holiday-themed Jay-Jay video with little Miranda, I became troubled.

Jay-Jay and his friends were flying around (as they so often do) while discussing the meaning of Thanksgiving. Jay-Jay didn't understand the concept of being thankful, or even what to be thankful for. His little jet-friend Tracy set him straight, to some degree, by reminding him of the good things in his life and teaching him to appreciate his friends, his job, and the comforts of home at Tarreytown airport.

What bothers me is the fact that my grandhchildren are being taught a lesson that is only two-thirds complete. Watching Jay-Jay, they will learn to count their blessings, and they will learn to be thankful for them -- but aren't these two concepts rather aimless unless they learn WHO to be thankful TO?

That Jay-Jay Thanksgiving video represents what is wrong with us in America today. We have enough sense to realize that we are fortunate to live in such a prosperous, free and open society. We know that we should be thankful, but we have forgotten who to thank.

Sadly, Barack Obama was spot-on when he recently declared that America "is not a Christian nation." We have drifted a long way from our cultural roots. Back when I was young, and dinosaurs roamed the Great Plains, public acknowledgements of God were still common and non-controversial.

It has been a grim experience to witness, in my lifetime, the decline of America into an increasingly humanistic, secular and fractured society. We have allowed God-hating people to run rampant over our culture. We cannot pray in school. Nativity scenes are being banned all across the country. The Ten Commandments have been removed from public display in courthouses. Political correctness dictates that you say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas." There is a movement to have the words "under God" stricken from the Pledge of Allegiance.

Anything that hints of God is being eliminated from our public life.

Ironically, we are free today, as Americans, because our forefathers believed in God and acted upon that belief. It was a shared faith in God's authority and power that gave those early Americans the fortitude to persevere against all of the challenges they faced. Without God, this country would never have been born.

The people who founded this country shared a biblical worldview that molded the structure of our government and laws. It was a common acceptance of biblical principles that led them to establish a constitution that upheld the concepts of liberty and individual freedom. An individual had intrinsic worth, because he was created in the image of God.

That alone is reason for overwhelming thanks. But even more, God has blessed this country bountifully since it's founding. We have rejected the sin of slavery, emancipated women, liberated entire continents from tyranny, cured horrific diseases, and elevated the common man's standard of living to heights never dreamed of before in human history. We are blessed to live in a great country. God has been good to America.

Yet, in the face of such divine magnanimity, we have rejected our God.

Listen to the Thanksgiving shows on TV. Watch the parades. Unless you are watching Christian television, you will hear no mention of God. Thanksgiving Day has been reduced to a national pig-out, and the start of the Christmas shopping season.

As we become more secularized, and more forgetful of who has been buttering our bread, we teeter ever closer to that tipping point where God finally withdraws his protection, and allows judgement to proceed. I believe that the decline of America is already underway. We are growing weaker and poorer, both materially and spiritually, with each passing day. I shudder to think of the country that my grandchildren will inherit if we do not reverse our course.

We can learn from the Old Testament how the people of ancient Israel suffered terrible judgements as a result of their continued rejection of God's authority. A great nation was reduced to a wasteland, because the people forgot the God who sustained them.

At the height of Israel's glory, when King Solomon had just finished dedicating the temple in Jerusalem, God appeared to him and made a sobering declaration. It was a promise of blessing for obedience, and a promise of judgement for sin. Americans today would be wise to heed the words that God spoke to Solomon so long ago.

When Solomon had finished the temple of the LORD and the royal palace, and had succeeded in carrying out all he had in mind to do in the temple of the LORD and in his own palace, the LORD appeared to him at night and said: "I have heard your prayer and have chosen this place for myself as a temple for sacrifices.

"When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or command locusts to devour the land or send a plague among my people, if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land. Now my eyes will be open and my ears attentive to the prayers offered in this place. I have chosen and consecrated this temple so that my Name may be there forever. My eyes and my heart will always be there.

"As for you, if you walk before me as David your father did, and do all I command, and observe my decrees and laws, I will establish your royal throne, as I covenanted with David your father when I said, 'You shall never fail to have a man to rule over Israel.'

"But if you turn away and forsake the decrees and commands I have given you and go off to serve other gods and worship them, then I will uproot Israel from my land, which I have given them, and will reject this temple I have consecrated for my Name. I will make it a byword and an object of ridicule among all peoples. And though this temple is now so imposing, all who pass by will be appalled and say, 'Why has the LORD done such a thing to this land and to this temple?' People will answer, 'Because they have forsaken the LORD, the God of their fathers, who brought them out of Egypt, and have embraced other gods, worshiping and serving them—that is why he brought all this disaster on them.' "
(2 Chronicles 7:11-22, NIV)

America needs to return to God. We need to discover anew just what Thanksgiving Day is really all about.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Hope You Liked That $4 Gas

Okay, boys and girls, settle into your seats for a quick lesson in Remedial Economics from Professor Dave. Be ready to take notes, there may be a pop quiz later.

First, a little background:

You may recall that in the summer of 2008, before the last general election, gas prices passed the $4 per gallon mark. This understandably caused quite a ruckus among consumers, and we beseiged our representatives in government with demands that something be done to correct the situation.

With an election looming on the horizon, liberal Democrats (and their RINO buddies) reverted to their standard election year schtick: making whatever noises they thought the voters wanted to hear, with no intention of ever actually following through.

Suddenly, the very legislators who have continuously blocked opening up federal lands for energy exploration were all on board the "drill here, drill now" express. The voters are upset - gas prices are too high - so let's put on a show!

Everyone from House Speaker Comrade Pelosi to the lowliest junior Rust Belt congressman was suddenly barking about energy independence. Democrats brayed in loud TV sound bites about lifting the congressionally-imposed ban on offshore drilling that has been in effect for decades, and which has hampered our domestic energy production.

And we the people, being the gullible dunces we are, once again bought it. Liberals were swept into power in 2008, and given total control of the government. It reminds me of Lucy holding the football for Charlie Brown. For some reason, poor old Charlie Brown always tells himself that THIS TIME Lucy will do the right thing.

Have we heard a peep out of Democrats in Congress about increasing our energy production since they won the election? That answer would be NO! Liberal politicians never intended to follow through on those snake-oil campaign promises. Imagine that.

So, boys and girls, back to our economics lesson. Though some people say that the only sure things in life are death and taxes, I feel confident in adding a third: the law of supply and demand. If supply exceeds demand, prices fall. If demand exceeds supply, prices rise.

(This principle is too simplistic for sophisticated Ivy League Liberals to grasp, but trust Professor Dave on this one, it is a cold hard fact of life.)

Early last year, before our economy took that nose-dive into the Great Recession, we had shared in several years of robust growth in the global economy. Business was booming all over the world, and especially with the Indian and Chinese economies growing by leaps and bounds, demand for oil and refined petroleum products was at an all-time high. Supplies were being squeezed. Prices were rising accordingly.

In the U.S., demand for gasoline had grown to the point that our domestic oil refineries could not keep up, and we were forced to import gasoline from foreign refineries. (We can also thank liberals for the fact that we have been unable to construct a new oil refinery in this country in the past 25 years.) Under those circumstances, why was anyone with an IQ above room temperature surprised that prices would rise?

It's all about supply and demand. Demand was higher than supply, so we paid through the nose for our gasoline.

But as events unfolded, and the Great Recession of 2008-2009 cooled down the global economy, the world's demand for oil plummeted. Oil reserves grew while demand kept falling, and we witnessed the inevitable result: gasoline prices fell 50% in less than a year. Last spring, prices in central Indiana were down to around $2 per gallon.

So we all fell asleep at the switch. Minus the prodding of public pressure for action, liberals in Congress reverted to their default mode of stifling our domestic energy production. All of those campaign promises about energy independence were wiped off the table, and since gasoline was cheap again, most of us didn't pay much attention.

For some reason, it has not dawned on the majority of us that the only reason gasoline prices dropped was because the economy was in the toilet, and that as the economy begins to recover and global demand rises, we will be back to record high oil prices in the very near future.

The global demand for energy will keep growing, and unless the supply grows with it, we will be sending billions more of our dollars (and hundreds of thousands of energy-sector jobs) to our friends overseas like Hugo Chavez and the Mullahs of Iran.

Thanks to the inaction of our government, we are stuck in exactly the same vulnerable position that we occupied two years ago. We are constrained from developing and expanding domestic energy production, and forced to purchase the lifeblood of our economy at premium prices from unstable foreign suppliers, many of whom don't like us very much.

Unless we change direction, we'll soon be filling up with some more of that $4 gas. Shucks, if we throw in a little Obama-stimulus-induced inflation and a hiccup in the Middle East we might even get to see prices of $5 or $6 per gallon.

And since this is just a Remedial Economics lesson, we won't even begin to discuss the obvious national security dangers of depending on hostile nations to supply us with the fuel that we need to survive.

Our only hope is to move aggressively towards energy independence. We need to unleash the brains, brawn and capital of the domestic energy companies that can make that goal a reality. We need to demand that our government get on board the energy express, or at least get out of the way.

Repeat after me: "Supply and demand. Supply and demand."

Class dismissed.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Just Another Child Living In The Shadows

I was having lunch at a rib joint in Plainfield when I noticed them come in.

A young man, twenty-something, with a cute little curly-haired brunette who must have been about five years old. They sat down about 20 feet away, at a corner booth close to the exit, near a window that looked out onto the parking lot.

The little girl reached down into the large brown grocery sack she had carried in with her and pulled out a doll and a coloring book. She sat next to dad and showed him some pictures she had been working on.

He had his left arm around her, and she was cuddled up against his chest, talking and pointing out details of special interest in the masterpiece she had been coloring.

Dad looked tired. He nodded and smiled, and while he seemed to be enjoying this father-daughter bonding, there was a strain in his expression that revealed he was not 100% in the moment.

When the waitress came to their table, she fussed over the little girl, who really was just as cute as a 5-year-old girl can be, and also was drawn into the discussion about the coloring book.

I didn't pay much attention to them after that, since I had a serious plate of ribs to devour, but after my meal I noticed that they were both looking out the window. Just then a red Dodge Charger pulled into the parking lot. Dad and daughter hugged, and he sat her down in the booth, and motioned for her to wait.

As he walked outside to the car, the woman driving it rolled down her window. He stopped a few feet away from the car and bent down to speak with her. Her left arm was gesturing impatiently through the open window, and he was holding his hands out, in a pleading gesture, making his case.

The little girl stood motionless in her booth, her back to me, her hands and face pressed against the glass, watching the discussion in the parking lot. The doll and coloring book were forgotten on the table.

What was she thinking as she watched mom and dad arguing outside? How much of her short life had she lived in the shadow of adult conflicts that she could never understand? How much time did she get to spend with her dad, and when would she see him again? What options for her life were being negotiated at that meeting, on that hot asphalt lot, by the two people she needed most in the world?

Finally the discussion was over. Dad walked slowly back into the restaurant. As he approched the booth, he looked sadly at the little girl and shook his head "no." Her shoulders slumped, but he quickly swooped her up and gave her a huge, rocking hug.

He stood there a bit, just hugging her. She was whispering something into his ear. Then he set her down. He bent down and kissed her forehead. She put her doll and coloring book back into the big brown bag.

Dad walked her out to the car, gave her one last hug, and then helped her get buckled into the back seat.

In an instant, the red Charger was gone.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

The Nicest God You'll Ever Meet

It happened again not too long ago.

I was talking with my Uncle Ron, a man in poor health, who admits he doesn't have long to live. We had been discussing matters of his estate, and he had explicit requests for how he wanted his affairs to be settled after he died.

Towards the end of this conversation, I said, "You've put a lot of thought into how you want your assets disposed of, but you still haven't taken care of your soul. Aren't you worried that you're not ready to face God?"

In my capacity as family "Jesus-freak" I have had numerous spiritual conversations with my uncle, and many other relatives, and while they politely tolerate me, I never seem to quite get through. I fully realize that the "getting through" part is up to the Holy Spirit, but still it can be discouraging when you keep pitching but no one seems to be catching.

Uncle Ron looked at me and said, "I know what you're saying is true, but I'm just not ready yet."

"Uncle," I said, "You've got one foot in the grave and the other one on a banana peel! How close do you want to cut this thing?"

"I'm just not ready," he said, "I've still got some things I want to do."

I've heard this line of reasoning before, and it never ceases to amaze me. People will talk about "getting right with God" someday in the distant future, once they have "enjoyed" their life and there is nothing left to live for. Where do people get this idea that becoming a Christian means the fun of living is over? How does becoming a child of the King of the Universe translate into a life of drudgery and boredom?


Part of it, of course, is just the lie that the devil plants into our sinful hearts: the lie that serving God is for chumps; that you have to be "free" to live your life any way you see fit if you want to be happy. We all buy into that philosophy easily enough, since it perfectly suits our selfish inclinations.

Another part of the problem is the way we in the church behave sometimes. I am acquainted with a lot of wonderful Christian brothers and sisters who express the joy of Christ in their day to day lives, and are fun people to hang with, simply because they have the love of God in their hearts and a real zest for living.

But there are far too many judgmental, condescending, uptight, unhappy and boorish Christians who may be impressed with their own piety, but don't do much of a job of advertising the love of Jesus to the people around them.

Speaking for myself, I can only say that my life never really began until the day I surrendered my life to God. I wouldn't trade my worst day as a Christian for my best day as a heathen. Finding the love and mercy of Jesus was the best thing that ever happened to me. You couldn't pay me enough to ever go back to my old life. Until I met God, I never knew what living really was.

Do you want to know real peace? Do you want to lay down at night in contentment, knowing that the maker of the universe is watching over you? Do you want to really enjoy the life you are living? Do you want to discover the meaning of your life, and experience a love that surrounds you and cherishes you? Do you want to truly know, in the depths of your soul, that God has forgiven you and loves you and will NEVER let you go?

The only way to know these things is to surrender your life to Jesus, and make him your Lord and Savior.

If you are putting off an encounter with Jesus because you have "some things you want to do" that you think are more important than meeting God, you have some seriously whacked-out priorities in your life. Get on the clue bus, Bubba!

Life is passing you by, and the devil is laughing behind your back. Every day that he can keep you away from God means you are one day closer to the possibility of spending eternity in hell - all because you think you can do better on your own.

There is nothing better than knowing God. There is no way to fulfill your purpose in life until you have put Jesus in charge of it. Forget every pre-conceived notion you have ever had. Forget your pride. Put aside your irrational fears and just come to Jesus, right now, the way you are, and let Him show you how much He loves you.

He truly is the nicest God you'll ever meet.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

A Day At The Beach

On a recent hot summer afternoon I went to the beach and ran into my old high school buddy, Slug. He was sitting in the shade of a scrub pine, slouched in a canvas beach chair, with his feet propped up on a cooler.

"Slug! What's happening, man? I haven't seen you in forever!" I exclaimed.

"Been way too long, dude. Haven't been doin' much, just gettin' by, ya know?"

Slug dipped a tortilla chip into his nacho cheese sauce, and used it to point out across the beach, dripping cheese on his knee in the process.

"Look out there, man. What do you see?"

"Well," I replied, "I see a lot of people who are going to wish they had put on more sunscreen when they go home tonight."

"True, my friend, but look hard, what do you see?"

"Lots of tattoos, for one thing," I noted. "And quite a few chunky girls out there today."

"Bingo!" he exclaimed. "And chunky is an understatement."

So shoot me, I thought, I was trying to be charitable.

Slug got on a roll. "There's not a woman out there who couldn't stand to lose 40 pounds. What is happening to the younger generation?"

Slug finished his last nacho, and reached down into a brown bag under his chair. "Cookie?" he offered, holding out a monster-sized chocolate chip creation.

"No thanks, man, my doctor's all over me about sugar. I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Man, remember when we were kids? What was the favorite thing to do on a hot summer day?" Before I could speak he answered himself. "Hang at the beach and check out the women! Look at this, man, this is pitiful!"

I tried hard to remember being young. I could conjure a faint memory of my lean healthy body jumping into the waves on a hot summer's day. And yes, Slug was right, I did seem to recall the pleasures of watching healthy young women stroll across the sand.

Then I looked around. Every single person on that beach was fat. I made myself notice the men, since I had not paid much attention to them at first, and they all had big bellies hanging over the top of their trunks. As I re-focused on the women, my heart began to sink. Even the young girls, sixteen years old, in the physical prime of their lives, had big jiggling thighs and rolls of blubber bulging out in all directions from anywhere their swimsuits would allow it to escape.

"You're right," I nodded, "I can remember young women with slender shapely figures. They were so beautiful back then." I looked around the beach with new eyes, and realized Slug was onto something. "Those really were the good old days."

After not seeing each other for so many years, Slug and I had bonded anew.

"Sit down, dude." Slug insisted. "Here, grab a brewski and check out this cheese ball."

So we sat, and ate, and drank, and talked about what had happened to the world we used to know. The sun beat down, the waves slapped against the shore, and it was a wonderful day to be alive at the beach.

Later in the day, Slug began to wax philosophically. He opened a can of peanuts and said, "You know, think of what could be accomplished if all the money these people spent on tattoos was invested in gym memberships."

I grabbed a fistful of nuts, washed it down with a cold slug of Coors, and tried not to choke on my laughter. It occurred to me that perhaps we were being too harsh, especially in light of our own physical condition.

"You know, Slug, neither of us will ever make a living as swimsuit models, either."

"For sure, dude," he agreed, "But at least we started out looking good. We're old, man, it took us a lot of years to get into this kind of shape. If these kids look this bad now, what are they gonna look like when they're 50?"

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

As The Mainstream Begins To Froth

Finally, Americans are waking up.

President Obama's poll numbers are sliding. Now, for the first time since his inauguration, a majority of Americans (55%) believe the country is heading in the wrong direction.

Hello! What took so long, people?

Give the President credit: he told us what he wanted to do, and he has been busy doing it. Barack Obama is as far left as you can go without falling off the edge of California. He is a true believer. He has been a committed leftist his entire political life, and he was upfront about his radical philosophy all through the election campaign.

That's why we bitter backwoods conservatives, clinging to our guns and Bibles, kept sounding the alarm last year about the dangers posed to liberty and prosperity by electing a socialist president.

This year, I was proud to join hundreds of thousands of Americans across the country who rallied in "Tea Party" protests. Shouldn't the fact that senior citizens (and middle-aged geezers like me) are resorting to street protests for the first time in our lives demonstrate how alarmed mainstream Americans are by the Obama socialist steamroller?

The administration's cries of "crisis, crisis" are getting old. We are still sifting through the droppings of the Cap & Trade fiasco that the House Democrats excreted a few weeks ago, and already the President is rushing through a plan for the federal takeover of health care.

A good leader states his positions clearly, proposes his legislation openly, and then persuades the electorate to embrace his plan. Ronald Reagan was masterful in explaining his agenda. But all we get from the Obama administration is one huge pile of "crisis legislation" after another, that no one has time to understand or debate. How can we respect and follow a leader who repeatedly denies us sufficient time to examine and discuss the plans he is proposing?

Memo to members of Congress: I hate to nitpick, but is it too much to ask of you to READ the thing BEFORE you vote for it? The devil is in the details, and there is boundless room for mischief in a thousand pages of legalese.

Call me crazy, but I am inclined to be distrustful of politicians (a useful instinct that I encourage everyone to cultivate) so I hope I will be forgiven for suggesting the possibility that our elected representatives may try to slide something by us in all of this hullabaloo.

It is a shame that the election of our first black president is destined to become such a disappointment. President Obama could have accomplished great things. He is an extraordinarily gifted politician, with great oratorical skills. He even strikes me, on a personal level, as a nice guy. I'd be happy to sit down sometime with him and Sean Hannity and toss back some suds. I'm not mad at him for being a socialist. I believe he is sincere. I just believe he is sincerely wrong.

If only he had moved to govern more from the political center (as most presidents tend to do) instead of scaring the bejeebers out of the whole country with his obsessive compulsive desire to nationalize every sector of our economy, there might be room for compromise. Had he kept his campaign promises to be bipartisan and transparent, he might have persuaded more of us on the right to give him a chance.

But now, the damage is done. Who in their right mind will ever trust President Obama and his cronies in Congress after witnessing these past six months of government thugocracy? Legislation drafted in the middle of the night, rushed to a vote without being read, relentlessly driving the country deeper into debt, and always - ALWAYS - chiseling away at our personal liberties in the process: all done with a smile and the assurance that Big Brother is just trying to take care of us.

Voters are beginning to smell the coffee. People are realizing that a one-party government with a promiscuous lust for power is not the kind of change they had hoped for.

Despite the political dumbing-down of the population by our educational system (another public entity that makes the case for private enterprise) there are still plenty of voters left who understand that the strength of this country is rooted in individual liberty and personal responsibility.

President Obama is getting ready to discover that, deep down, we Americans really do cherish our freedoms.

And not a moment too soon.





Saturday, July 18, 2009

Lefties Go Home!

I'm not trying to be hateful or mean. I'm just giving all you liberals who want the government to take care of you from cradle to grave some helpful advice: move back home. Mom probably still has your room ready.

Do you want to know that someone will be there to take care of all your needs? Move back home!

Tired of having to work every day and worry about your bills? Move back home!

Wondering where your next meal will come from? Move back home!

Are the responsibilities of adulthood bringing you down? Not enough time left in the day to party hardy? Then move back home!

We human beings have short memories. We tend to look at our present tribulations in life and pine nostalgically for the "good old days" while conveniently forgetting that they were never really that good either.

It's tough being an adult. Life is hard. Things often don't go as we had planned. Often we struggle, and fail, and sometimes we hit the wall. Wake up, boys and girls, this is life in the real world - not always fun, not always easy - just reality.

So when I advise you lefties to move back home, and save the rest of us the trouble of redesigning our entire system of government to take care of you, I want you to think about what that would really mean.

First, you have to remember why you ever moved away from home in the first place.

Sure, it was nice to have a roof over your head, and three squares a day, and mom doing the ironing and cleaning. Sometimes, if you caught him in a good mood, you could hit up the old man for an extra twenty to put some gas in the tank. Yeah, life was sweet: you knew that all your needs would be taken care of by good old mom and dad. So why did you ever leave?

Ah, now it's coming back to you...remember how mom insisted you come home by midnight...all that nagging about cleaning up your room...dad giving you those lectures and saying things like "As long as you're living in my house you'll live by my rules"...how your parents were always interfering with your personal life...how tired you got of always having to tell them where you were going and when you would be home...remember how much you looked forward to moving out someday and becoming INDEPENDENT?

Yes, dear lefty friends, that is what you have forgotten: your desire for independence. And that independence is what you are getting ready to sacrifice to the Nanny State that you are so intent on creating in the USA.

In the liberal mind, the answer to every problem known to man is the same: more government control. Trouble with the car companies? Let the government take them over. Instability in the financial markets? We need the government to take over banks and insurance companies. Health care costs getting out of control? Natch, we need socialized medicine.

Whatever the problem, the solution is more government.

As we continue to turn over more decision making to an ever-growing federal bureaucracy, we incrementally give more control over our lives to Big Brother. One day we will wake up and wonder why we aren't free anymore.

The plain fact is that we cannot live as free and independent citizens if we refuse to accept the responsibility for taking care of ourselves. Whoever is taking care of you is going to have the ability to tell you what to do. Whether it is your parents, or the government, whoever is paying the bills gets to make the rules.

One obvious difference is, at least our parents actually cared about us, and they were taking care of us with their own money. When the government is in charge of our lives, not only does it NOT love us, it takes away our own money so that it can pay our bills and tell us what to do. We will, in effect, be financing our own servitude.

Personally, I like being independent. That's why I moved away from home. That's why I thank God every day that I live in this great republic of ours. I want my grandchildren to enjoy the same blessings of liberty that my grandparents handed down to me.

So please, don't think I'm being mean when I say, "Lefties go home!" If you want to be treated like a child, that is your business. Just leave the rest of us out of it.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Meet The Master Gardener

Being a world-class procrastinator, I didn't want to rush into planting my flowers in early May like normal Midwesterners do. But everyone else had flowers in their yard, and all I had were weedy flower beds, so I finally shamed myself into getting some yard work done.

I picked up a flat of marigolds at K-Mart, and I congratulated myself on buying them at a close-out discount. What glorious financial stewardship I can display sometimes. So why does my family just think I'm cheap?

But I digress...back to the story of planting: I realized that the flower bed, having been neglected for a season, had to be prepared before I could create my beautiful floral masterpiece. So first came the hard work (which perhaps explains my procrastination) of weeding and cultivating the soil.


I was a man with a mission, so I got down and dirty with the earth. I crawled through the flower bed, pulling weeds out by the roots, and cleared out all of the leaves, sticks and other debris that cluttered the area. Soon I was ready to cultivate.

I tore into that tough, compacted soil with my trusty Garden Claw (as seen on TV) and soon I had a flower bed worthy of the name. The soil was loose, fine, and soft down to a depth of about 6 inches. With the bed finally prepared to my satisfaction, I gently planted my flowers, carefully tamped the soil, and then spread the mulch.

After a good soaking with the sprinkler, my marigolds were ready to flourish in the home I prepared for them, and I could spend the rest of the summer enjoying their beauty. As I relaxed and surveyed the fruits of my labors, it dawned on me that there was a spiritual lesson to be found in all of this gardening. (Don't pretend like you didn't see this coming.)


If you are a Christian, and therefore a child of God, you will discover sooner rather than later that he is going to pretty regularly want to straighten you up and do new things with your life, whether you like it or not.

(Amazing as this sounds, God has never once asked for my advice about anything he wanted to do with me. Not one single time! Go figure.)

Of course, when God gets ready to plant some new refinements into your character, he is confronted with the necessity of first getting the weeds, debris and other crud in your life out of the way. You know your crud better than I do, so don't make me draw you an ugly picture.

When God begins to weed your life, it can make you pretty uncomfortable; sometimes downright irritated. Before you know it, he's poking and prodding and convicting you of various selfish behaviors that you are perfectly content to let be, thank you very much! As a final insult to your self-contentment, God has a way of sticking that flawless heavenly mirror of his right in front of your face, and forcing you to take a long hard look at yourself. This is not usually a pleasant exercise.

Being selfish, flawed creatures, we don't appreciate having our shortcomings and sinfulness sifted through by an intrusive Creator. But we had best "get over it" because God is a lot bigger than us and he will find a way to have his way.

So repent now or repent later -- God will eventually wear you down. Like they say on the TV police shows, "We can do this the easy way, or the hard way."


Then, after all of that annoying weeding, comes the cultivating. Ouch! All of a sudden God is stirring up your world in ways you never anticipated. He's shredding your pre-conceived notions, chopping up your hard-heartedness, and crumbling up your comfortable routine.

Thankfully, in due time this process is completed, and we are finally ready to receive what God has prepared for us. In place of all the debris and clutter that we had allowed to accumulate in our lives, God plants a new and beautiful direction for service that we would never have thought of for ourselves. (This should come as no surprise, him being all-knowing and us being all-ignorant.)

Now, instead of a life as useless as a weed-choked flower bed, we exude a beautiful new fragrance. We're ready to bless this world afresh, and we are able to share God's love in new and exciting ways. All of the disruption that we so wished to avoid was actually the best thing that could have happened to us.

Hmmm...all of this horticultural allegory has led me to begin pondering the pruning that I need to give my apples trees...but let's save that story for another day.

Friday, June 26, 2009

Kids Hear The Darndest Things

Flash back to the summer of 2007.

It was a beautiful June evening. I was driving my three-year-old granddaughter Miranda home from that evening's Vacation Bible School at church. She had been in my class, and we had shared some fun that evening, and learned some good lessons about how God loves us.

It seemed like a good idea to try to reinforce the evening's lessons on the drive home.

As we drove down Gray Road, Miranda was looking towards the western sky, and noticed the beautiful multi-colored clouds glowing from the rays of the setting sun. "Grandpa, look at the pretty sky," she said.

"It is pretty," I replied, "And someday, when I die and go to heaven, I will get to see beautiful skies like that all the time."

It got very quiet in the back seat. Finally Miranda asked, "Grandpa, are you going to die?"

Uh-oh. Somehow this inspirational conversation had veered off into a dark place. When will I learn to choose my words more carefully around small children? Not soon enough, as you will soon see.

I don't think well under pressure (or most other times, either, for that matter). When I make quick decisions I usually regret them. This occasion would prove to be no exception. My brain was going into panic mode, trying to calculate, in the space of 5 seconds or so, how to reply to this innocent little girl in a way that would minimize her anxiety.

For lack of a better idea, I went with the old casual, matter-of-fact approach. I swear, before I said it, it sounded good in my head.

"Of course, honey," I said casually, "Everybody is going to die someday."

It got really quiet in the back seat again. I was hoping for a quick change of subject.

I still cringe inwardly when I recall what I heard next: the sound of Miranda's panicked little voice echoing from the back seat, "YOU MEAN WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE?"

Lord, just take me now, I thought to myself. Maybe I could get away on Southwest Airlines before I had to face my daughter, Miranda's mom.

I did my best to back-pedal, but there was no place to go. A hard truth was out of the bag, and it couldn't be denied. Three years old is a bit young to be thinking about mortality, but thanks to me, "Grandpa Death", Miranda had something new to worry about.

I tried to candy-coat it, talking about how young we were, and it would be a long, long, long time before any of us would be dying, and how dying is just part of life, and how, if we knew Jesus, we would see God and be in heaven when we died. I rambled all over the place, trying to do some damage control.

I sure wish there were times when God would just give us a do-over.

Finally we arrived at Miranda's home. I didn't know what to say to her mom Stephanie, my only daughter, my eldest child, who would most likely be choosing my nursing home someday, and with whom I had hoped to maintain a positive relationship.

For lack of a better idea, I didn't say anything. So far, every time I had opened my mouth, things had gotten worse. I decided to just shut up for a while.

The next evening, I thought I had better mention this incident to Stephanie, just in case little Miranda had remembered our conversation. So I called her, feeling quite humbled and penitent, and did my best to explain how I had inadvertently shattered her daughter's innocent ignorance about her own mortality. I went through the whole spiel about the VBS and the clouds and heaven and when I finally got done, Stephanie said, "So THAT'S where she got it."

Apparently the day had been filled with non-stop discussions of death, and how everybody is going to die, and when would the dog die, and did dogs go to heaven, and when are you going to die mommy, and on and on and on. If you have ever been a parent, I'm sure you can imagine what it must have been like.

My daughter, being a kind and merciful person, has forgiven me for being such a stupid grandpa. She knows I didn't mean to do it.

I have learned a valuable lesson. Be really careful what you say to young children, because they will always be listening to anything that you wish they had not heard. They may forget every wise thing you ever told them, but say something stupid one time, and 20 years later they'll be on a couch telling their therapist the story of how you traumatized their childhood.

In the future, I am going to play it safe and cop out whenever possible. If any of my grandchildren ever ask questions about sex, all they will get out of me is name, rank, serial number, and a story about storks and cabbage patches. I'm leaving the hard stuff for mom and dad.

* Note to Stephanie -- Should I live long enough to require nursing care, I would still prefer that quiet corner room with the lake view at the Shady Acres Rest Home.

Friday, June 19, 2009

Growing Up White

In the early 1960s, mom would take us kids to swim at a nearby beach, called Maywood Lake, on the southwest side of Indianapolis.

I was so young then that I don't remember a lot of details, but I always had fun there. There are vague impressions left in my memory: the smell of coconut oil, the warm sand, splashing in the waves, transistor radios blasting out the Beach Boys and the Ventures, kids making sand castles. It was an idyllic way to spend a summer, just me and my siblings whiling away the days at the beach with mom.

It was the summer of either 1964 or 1965 when we stopped going to Maywood Lake. "Mom, why can't we go swimming?" we asked. Mom told us the lake had closed. Nobody could go there anymore. Mom offered no explanation of why, and maybe I wouldn't have understood anyway.

When you're a kid, all you know is what is going on in your immediate little world. My world was my neighborhood. Up to the age of 10, I guess I just hadn't paid much attention to anything going on around the rest of the planet.

Some time afterward, I overhead my grandpa talking to my dad, complaining about the Civil Rights Act of 1964, and some of the businesses that had been affected by it. "He shut the place down," grandpa was telling dad.

"What place?" I interjected.

"Maywood Lake - he just shut the place down," grandpa replied, "He told me that he would close the place before he would let the government tell him that he had to let the colored in there."

That was my introduction to racism in America. It amazed me that a man would hate black people so much that he would rather go out of business than have black customers.

I started paying more attention to racial issues after that. I soon realized that a lot of people I knew really didn't like black folks one bit. Probably half the adults in my family were quite vocal about their fears of blacks "taking over the country." A lot of the kids in the neighborhood would make crude racial jokes, or derogatory comments about civil rights protesters. The "N-word" was frequently tossed around in casual conversations, and it seemed like someone was constantly coming up with new and crude racial jokes.

I had an acquaintance in my late teens who was related to some honcho in the Martinsville KKK. Once he brought me a really crude Klan "comic book" of rude, ignorant and hateful cartoons filled with all of the standard racial stereotypes of the day. He actually thought it was funny. I thought, How can people have so much hate in their hearts? And for no good reason?

I always admired the courage of the people who led the civil rights movement, because I knew they were up against some serious generationally-ingrained hatred and prejudice. I knew how bad white folks' attitudes were in Indiana. I could only imagine how much worse it was in the deep South.

So eighteen months ago, when Barack Obama was campaigning for the Democratic nomination, I would not have given him a snowball's chance in hell of ever being elected President. Whatever the campaign issues would become, I just could not believe that America would elect a black man to the highest office in the land. I grew up knowing too many people with too much irrational prejudice. I could not conceive how any black candidate could overcome such an enormous political handicap.

I knew that racial harmony had improved noticeably since the 1960s, but I assumed there was still a lot of tamped-down racial animosity that just wasn't as openly expressed as in the past. I reasoned that in the solitude of the voting booth, ingrained prejudices would ultimately hold sway.

Although I supported John McCain (reluctantly) and I am in staunch ideological opposition to President Obama's policies, I freely admit that I am happy to be wrong about the current extent of racism in America. With this election, we have turned a corner. To be sure, there are still some white people who will never see the light. There will always be some folks who carry darkness in their hearts.

But President Obama has proven, by his historic election victory, that our country is indeed moving past the era when we divided ourselves by race. Hopefully, we can continue to mature as a culture, and someday achieve a truly color-blind society.

A color-blind society with strong moral values, a culture of personal responsibility, a robust national defense policy, strict constitutionalist judges, healthy free-market capitalism, low taxes and limited government interference would be even better.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Down The Rabbit Hole

The worst economy since the great Depression?

What a bunch of typical deceptive left-wing crapola. (My apologies to readers who are sensitive to the use of uncouth grammar, but sometimes there is no substitute.)

No, this is not the worst economy since the great depression, but it is the worst economy since our last leftist president, Jimmy Carter, was in office.

We Americans have many things to be proud of, but our grasp of history is not one of them. We are lucky to remember what we had for breakfast, much less recall the political and economic events of recent decades.

We have had it so good, for so long – and have become so spoiled and so clueless – that I wonder sometimes if we have all gone brain dead.

So you think your life is rough? Feeling a little low today? Tough times got you down, Bubby? Well, let’s take a little misery index test:

Did you eat today?

Are you wearing clothes?

Do you live in a climate-controlled shelter?

Are there shoes on your feet?

Are you free to read what you want, think what you want, and speak your mind openly?

Then welcome to America, friend! Whatever challenges you are facing, you are among the richest 5% of people alive on this planet. (The appropriate response now would be to fall down on your knees and thank God for the privilege of living in a place like this.)

Now that we have put things in perspective, let’s take a stroll down memory lane.

When Ronald Reagan became president in 1981, he inherited an economy in shambles, and all the economic indicators looked much worse than anything President Obama has had to deal with. The economy was so bad, the press had to create a new word to describe it: stagflation. We had double-digit unemployment rates, a double-digit inflation rate, and double-digit interest rates.

Did President Reagan use this “crisis” as an opportunity to try to seize government control of the economy? Absolutely not! President Reagan believed in the power of free enterprise. He believed in the wisdom of limited government, and the ability of free people to create prosperity for themselves, and thereby, for the country as a whole.

His domestic agenda was simple: President Reagan cut taxes. He pushed through de-regulation of the energy and transportation systems. His goal was to reward entrepreneurs and allow people to keep more of the fruits of their labors. Thanks to Reaganomics, the economy went on a 20-year growth spurt, the longest period of prosperity in our history.

In foreign policy, President Reagan believed in peace through strength. He believed America was a great country that was destined to lead the world towards liberty. He built up the armed forces, especially the Navy, so that America could defend herself against any aggressor.

The American Left ridiculed him for his “Star Wars” missile defense proposals, but thanks to his foresight, we are continuing to develop a substantial, and successful, missile defense program, which is really coming in handy in this era of rogue terrorist states. If North Korea ever launches an ICBM towards our west coast, millions of Californians will owe their lives to Ronald Reagan.

Now let’s take a look at Obamanomics. Compared to the Reagan era, it is like we’ve fallen into a rabbit hole. President Obama says we need more government control.

The government needs to take over automobile companies and banks. We need the federal government in control of our health care system. We need to begin taxing “excessive” carbon use through Cap & Trade legislation. We need to raise gasoline taxes. We need to dictate what kinds of cars people can drive. We need to spend our way into “prosperity” by piling up trillions of dollars in debt that our children will never be able to repay.

President Obama’s foreign policy is even more disastrous. His groveling “world-wide apology” tours to Central America, Europe and the Middle East were the most embarrassing displays of appeasement in my lifetime. He is signaling to every tinhorn dictator on the planet that the USA will not be an advocate for liberty and human rights, because we don’t want to interfere with another nation’s business, however dirty that business may be.

Political prisoners of despotic states around the world have a new reason to weep.

And what about peace through strength?

For a man who can dump billions of dollars down the rat hole of government bailouts, without batting an eye, President Obama suddenly turns into Fred Mertz when it comes to the military budget.

So, Iran and North Korea are on the verge of ICBM capabilities? Well, let’s cut the missile defense budget. So, China is doubling the size of its navy? Let’s continue to cut back on ours. Under the Obama budget, every single sector of government spending is set to grow, except for defense.

One pesky detail that President Obama seems to have overlooked is the fact that our national defense is the federal government’s primary constitutional duty.

From where I sit, the future is looking pretty bleak. We have elected a president with no grasp of economic realities, no understanding of the dangers we face in the world, and have granted to him, via a Congress controlled by Democrats, almost unlimited power to reshape this country into whatever kind of socialist welfare state he can envision.

So, is this the worst economy since the Great Depression? No, not yet, but give it time. As President Obama likes to say, “We are just getting started.”

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Economic Facts of Life

When I was a boy, my grandpa spent a lot of time trying to teach me things. Sometimes I got tired of listening to him, because it seemed like he repeated himself so much. Now I realize he was just trying to emphasize the high points.

Grandpa was always saying things like:

"You don't get anything without working for it."

"The world doesn't owe you a living."

"An education is the only thing that nobody can ever take away from you."

"You have to be responsible for yourself."

"If you don't have the money to pay for it, make do without it."

"Pay yourself first - save 10 cents of every dollar you make."

Many of us have heard these nuggets of financial wisdom. Simplistic they may be, but they are powerful because they are true.

But I wonder, is there anyone left in America who still believes in them? Apparently no one in the American Left does. The Left tells us that the world does owe us a living, whether we work or not. We are not responsible for ourselves, but Nanny Government is. Can't afford to own a house? No problem, borrow as much as you can at a low interest rate to stimulate the economy. And yes, you can get something for nothing, but only if you vote for Democrats, because those evil greedy capitalistic Republicans don't want you to have anything unless you earn it.

With so many fragmented families and single-parent households, I wonder how many kids today have responsible grandparents around who can pass along to them the economic facts of life? Perhaps the biggest problem facing America now is the simple fact that too many kids are just growing up, and nobody is taking the time to raise them properly.

My teenage neighbor was visiting me a while back, and brought over a buddy of his from school. His friend was talking about his old dilapidated bicycle and how he just wanted to get another bike. He was hoping that the next time his dad visited from out of town, he could talk dad into buying him a new one.

I couldn't restrain myself. "You know," I said, "Spring is here, and I guarantee you could make yourself $100 a week if you just had three or four steady lawn-mowing customers. You could have that new bike in no time, and have plenty of spending money all summer long."

The kid looked at me like I was from Mars. "I don't cut grass," he said condescendingly.

I sincerely hope he is still walking around without a bicycle.

I can't help it, but I just can't respect people who think they are too good to get their hands dirty in some useful labor. Working, sweating, and getting grungy are great character building exercises. (In the interest of full disclosure, let me state here that I no longer cut my own grass, but pay to have it done, because I am getting old and tired and whatever character I have is already built. But I still work and get dirty at my day job, and I did cut plenty of grass when I was younger.)

It takes some "tough love" to refrain from granting a request, so that the person you are mentoring can learn the value of satisfying that desire through their own resourcefulness. When my #1 daughter (whose daddy loves her dearly) turned sweet sixteen, she came to me and said, "Well, dad, I'm sixteen, and I have my driver's license...all I need now is a car."

It pained me to see the look of dejection on her beautiful young face when I introduced her to the real world. "Honey," I said as gently as possible, "There is just one more thing you need before you get a car...and that's a job so you can pay for it."

She wasn't happy with me at the time, but she did get a job. Soon after that she bought a used car. She has worked ever since, and has been financially independent for many years now. Making her buy her own car was the best economics lesson I could have ever given her. (As an added bonus, it left an extra $3000 in dad's retirement fund.)

I have known otherwise intelligent adults, people who should have known better, who nonetheless bought their teenage daughter a brand new car. Ponder that with me for a moment...what could possibly go wrong with such a decision? I know what you're thinking, and you are right...the new car was totaled within four months. Because she didn't have anything invested in it, the young woman never really appreciated it.

When kids don't learn the value of labor; when they don't make the mental connection between effort and reward; when we don't teach them to be responsible and work for what they want, then we are conditioning them to become pawns in the Brave New World of the government welfare state. We are cheating them out of the opportunity to learn how the real world operates.

As adults, they will be inclined to carelessly vote for whomever promises them the cushiest smorgasbord of government handouts and benefits. They will not understand the damage being done to America's financial health when the government punishes production with taxes, and rewards indolence with benefits.

They will be happy to trade away their liberties for the promise of government care. It is happening already; just look at President Obama's push for socialized medicine. In his worldview, the solution to every problem is more government control, and growing numbers of Americans are jumping onto that bandwagon.

It may make for a pleasant fantasy to imagine that we could all kick back and let someone else take care of us. Let's put the government in charge of allocating resources so that everyone gets their fair share of prosperity. Let's allow Nanny Government to "spread the wealth around."

But at some point, as there are more people taking out of the pot, and fewer people putting in, the pot comes up empty, and there is no wealth left to be spread around. Then we will experience not just a severe recession, but a calamitous depression.

That is when another one of grandpa's favorite proverbs will again prove itself to be true: "There's no such thing as a free lunch."

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Soldiers I Have Known

I write this today, and you read this today, because hundreds of thousands of American soldiers, engaged in various battles that spanned over more than two centuries, fought and died for the cause of freedom.

I have had the privilege of knowing some of these men and women. They are regular, everyday working people, paying their bills and raising their families. They don't consider themselves special. They will, without exception, tell you that they were just doing their jobs during those times when they risked life and limb to accomplish some extraordinary mission.

I have known my wife's uncle Roy for over 35 years. A great guy, a retired automobile salesman, Roy (known to everyone as "Nick") has always been a fun guy to know. We get to see each other at least once a year at a Labor Day family reunion, and I have always enjoyed sharing some laughs with Nick. In all that time, I never knew he had been in the military.

Last summer, my wife and I were visiting at Nick's new home in Greenwood. He was gone at the time, and his wife, Aunt Marilyn, was giving us the nickle tour of their new place. Hanging from a wall in the hallway was a custom made plaque that Marilyn had given Nick. On one side was a black and white photo of a trim young Nick in a United States Marine uniform. On the other half of the plaque was a print of the famous WWII photo of the Marines raising the US flag atop Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima.

I mentioned to Marilyn that I had never known that Nick was in the Marines. "Oh yeah," she replied, "He was all over the Pacific back then. He went to Guam and Tarawa and Iwo Jima and a few other places." She mentioned it so casually, it almost sounded like a cruise itinerary.

I was astounded. How could I have known this man for all those years and have never heard about this?

"He doesn't talk about the war much," Marilyn said, "Except when he gets together with his old Marine buddies."

Guam...Tarawa...Iwo Jima...these were some of the toughest, ugliest battles in a tough and ugly war. Why would Nick ever talk about this except with people who could really understand? Only another soldier can empathize with those kinds of scarring memories.

About that time, Nick returned home, and I told him I wanted to thank him for all the sacrifices he had made for this country. He waved his hand dismissively and said, "We all just did what we had to do. Everybody made sacrifices." I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I dropped it.

This incident with Nick occurred within a few months of me seeing the Clint Eastwood film about Iwo Jima, Flag of Our Fathers, and also the television debut on PBS of Ken Burns' WWII documentary, The War. Those images of the suffering of American soldiers were fresh in my memory, and I tried to envision what that frightening time must have been like for Nick and his fellow Marines.

I'm a life-long civilian who has never had to worry about anyone shooting at me. I cannot imagine the bravery of soldiers who take on the duty of going to war.

For lack of a better idea, I decided to write Nick a letter and express my appreciation. I hope I am not embarrassing him, but this is what I wrote:

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Dear Nick,

Ever since the day at your house when I found out you were a Marine in the Pacific during the war, I have been trying to think of some way to properly express my gratitude and admiration for what you and your fellow Marines have done for this country.

I cannot find the words.

I know you will say, “We were just doing our jobs.” And that is true, to some extent. The whole country was dragged into war after Pearl Harbor, and everybody made sacrifices.

But you Marines really did the heavy lifting, especially in the Pacific. I have read enough history to know that the campaigns you fought in were some of the toughest in the war. You guys were a bunch of kids rushed through boot camp and sent halfway around the world to engage an enemy that would fight to the death. I cannot imagine the hardships you suffered and the obstacles you overcame.

Over the past few years I have read and viewed a lot of material concerning WWII. Especially after seeing a movie like Flag of Our Fathers, I was just overwhelmed by the ferocity of the combat and the grueling conditions our troops endured. The whole Pacific campaign was a tough, dangerous job that had to be done, and you guys did it.

I have always liked you, Nick, and I am amazed that I could have known you for all these years and have never been aware that you were part of such an elite group. You are now officially added to my list of Top Ten Most Admired People.

This country owes you and all the other good men who served with you a tremendous debt of gratitude. Because of your generation’s perseverance and sacrifice, we are all free today, living in the greatest, most blessed nation in history.

Please allow me to say “Thank You” and “God Bless You” to you and all of the men you served with. You did what had to be done to defeat an evil empire that would have enslaved the world if it were possible.

I thank God every day that I live in America, and I thank him for people like you who sacrificed so much to keep us free. I am honored to know you.

God bless the Marines!
Dave Smith


About a month later, I opened my mailbox to find one of the nicest letters I have ever received. Nick had written back to thank me for my letter. I trust he will forgive me for sharing it, since his note speaks volumes about the attitude of the greatest generation:

Dear Dave,

I too, thank God I live in America. I do appreciate and thank you for your letter. It certainly means a lot to me to know there are still people who remember what sacrifices were made back then.

I consider myself fortunate to be related to just one person who is thoughtful enough to take time to write such a meaningful letter. It brought me to tears.

Thank you again for being so thoughtful and caring enough to write me.

Uncle Nick

What can you say about people like this? Uncle Nick and his generation have bequeathed to us blessings of liberty and prosperity that most of the world could never imagine. Everything we have in this country we owe to the goodness of God, and to the sacrifices of our military men and women.

If you know a vet, young or old, take time to thank them for their service. It is the very least that we can do, and it is the thing they will appreciate the most.

God bless all of you who have sacrificed so much to protect our freedoms. Thank you for doing your job.

Friday, May 22, 2009

Pass the DNA, Please

By now everyone who watches the news has heard of "Ida," the fossil that humanist scientists are breathlessly proclaiming as a possible missing link in the evolutionary chain.

In a story by Allie Martin at OneNewsNow, she reported that "scientists in New York unveiled what they described as the missing link in human evolution, a fossilized skeleton reportedly 47 million years old. They said the creature -- nicknamed "Ida" -- had four legs and a long tail, was about the size of a small cat, and had human-like nails instead of claws, along with a bone in her foot that is similar to humans."

This story reminds me of the hoopla a couple of years ago when scientists who were studying the genome of some ape made the astonishing announcement that the animal's DNA was 99% the same as a human's, thereby proving the truth of evolution.

Imagine that! Who woulda thunk it? Wow, another brilliant victory for modern science! Joe the Bartender could have looked at an ape and a human and guessed that there was a lot of common DNA happening there. Are we to jump to the conclusion that because God created things that were similar that one must have evolved from the other?

Let us consider the puzzle of the lime and lemon. I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I would be willing to bet my "Yes We Can" campaign button that if Mr. Scientist was to analyze the DNA of a lime and lemon, we would be hitting right around that magic 99% similarity mark.

So now we have to wonder, which came first: the lime or the lemon? Hokey smokes, Bullwinkle, with that 99% common DNA thing happening, something must have evolved from something! And don't even get me started on horses and zebras!

It takes more blind faith for a humanist to swallow the circular logic of evolutionary theory than it does for me as a Christian to just believe what God has told me. It makes perfect sense to me that in a world created with every conceivable type of animal and plant life, there will be some creatures with similar characteristics. Like any creative person, God often uses variations on a theme.

Of course if you're walking blind, without God, you have to concoct some kind of worldview that helps you make sense of all this natural splendor. That's how you stumble into worshiping the creation instead of the creator.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Looking For Yourself?

I recently read another story of someone’s search for their roots. Syndicated columnist Leonard Pitts made a trip to Africa, as he put it, “Looking for heritage.”

I don't fault anyone who is curious about their heritage, but in the grand scope of eternity, where you have come from means very little. What really matters is where are you now…and where you are going.

By the grace of God, I am going to spend eternity in heaven. This never ceases to amaze me. Despite the fact that I am a sinful, flawed, short-tempered, moody, sometimes foul-mouthed and often unpleasant person, I have been invited into the Kingdom of God.

Imagine a schmuck like me being adopted by the creator of the universe! This is not because of anything good in me, but because of his great love and mercy. And since he is no respecter of persons, God extends this invitation of eternal life to anyone who will turn to him, in humility and respect, and seek his forgiveness.

If you are searching for the meaning of your life; If you are trying to find yourself; If you want to know your purpose and your destiny — there is only one place to go, and that is to the throne of God, the creator of YOU, who holds the answers to all of your questions about life. The only way to really find yourself is to find HIM, and let him take over the management of your life.

The Bible tells us that we are all born with a sinful nature, and that it is impossible for us to please God. We are lost, and separated from God by our sin. Hell is our default destination. That is why Jesus took it upon himself to become one of us, to live among us, to suffer and die for us. Jesus took the debt of our sin upon himself. His suffering and sacrifice satisfied God's judgment against us.

The only way to get to heaven is to follow Jesus there. Because of his unique access to the Father, there is no other way for us to be accepted by God. That is why he made such emphatic statements like, "No one comes to the Father except through me," and, "Unless a man is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God."

This kind of talk makes a lot of people mad. We are stubborn creatures, and we want to do things our own way. We don't like anybody, even God, telling us what to do. It almost sounds un-American, giving up your independence like that. That's why so many people try to pretend that God doesn't exist. They just don't want to admit that he's the boss - perhaps if they ignore him, he will just leave them alone.

Others think that somehow they can earn their way to heaven if their good deeds outnumber their sins and they try to "live a good life." But to think this way is akin to mocking Jesus while he hung on the cross. He did not allow himself to be crucified on a whim. He endured that awful torture because he knew it was the only thing that could save us. It is the ultimate insult to God to discount the salvation that Jesus suffered so much to purchase for us.

There is only one logical thing for you to do. Stop whatever your're doing, right now, and do some serious business with God before it is too late. It is time for you to ask Jesus to be your Savior and Lord.

Coming to Jesus means that you admit you need His forgiveness. You make a commitment that you want to follow him. When you repent, and give your life to him, his spirit comes to live within you, and you are born again. He forgives every sin that was held against you, and guarantees your citizenship in heaven. Not because you deserve it, but because Jesus paid a debt that you could not afford.

As if that wasn't enough, Jesus also promises to walk with you and guide your life. He sticks with you, as your Savior and Lord, for all of eternity. If you are wise enough to obediently follow him, he will lead you into a life that is filled with purpose and service.

Your walk with Christ will take you through sorrows and joys, trials and victories, and persecution for the sake of His name. Is it easy? No. Is it always fun? No. Is it worth it? Absolutely!

Jesus once said, “For everyone who tries to save his life will lose it; but he who loses his life for my sake will find it.”

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Unintended Consequences

There are unintended consequences to everything the government does. A recent chance conversation illustrates this point.

An acquaintance was telling me about her son, and his live-in girlfriend, and how they had been planning to get married this summer. However, the girlfriend recently discovered she was pregnant, so now the wedding is postponed.

Postponed? That seems counter-intuitive. Normally an unplanned pregnancy would accelerate wedding plans - but not in the age of Nanny Government. You see, as a single mother, this girl is eligible for a whole slew of government benefits - handouts she would not receive if she was married.

There is no reason her boyfriend can't step up to the plate and take financial responsibility for his child. But why should he? We have inculcated a whole generation with the idea that you should let the government take care of your problems. You won't be held accountable for your actions, because Nanny will be there to bail you out.

This couple could get married. They could pay their own way. People have done it for centuries without government assistance. Instead, they will take the path of least resistance, and become moochers at the government trough. You and I (assuming you are a productive, tax-paying member of society) get to pay for their prenatal care, hospital bills, formula, diapers, and on and on and on.

We have, in effect, discouraged this young couple from getting married. Nanny Government has become the surrogate father. Instead of encouraging responsibility, we are breeding dependence and immaturity.

How long can we continue this madness of rewarding people for making bad choices? How long can we keep taking away from responsible people so that irresponsible people can avoid the consequences of their actions?

Government assistance should be reserved for people who really need help. Our current welfare policies create a climate that does more to enable irresponsible behavior than it does to support the truly needy.

The entitlement mentality that now corrodes our culture explains why a junior senator, with no real world management experience, could become President of the United States. Barack Obama told everyone what they wanted to hear. The government is going to take care of you. We're going to spread the wealth around.

I will give President Obama credit. He told us what he planned to do, and he is busting his hump to get it done. We are rapidly becoming a socialist welfare state, with enough debt accumulating to crush any hope our children may have for a chance at prosperity. Nanny Government is spending money as fast as it can be printed.

And, inevitably, we all will eventually suffer from the unintended consequences.