Indianapolis resident Kathie Smith made headlines this past week when Fox News reported that she has drawn the attention of the FBI and Homeland Security after posting a YouTube video that featured her and her husband, Salahudin ibn Ja’Far, dressed in jihadist garb and glorifying a group of terrorists who had attempted to bomb a US military base in Germany.
In a recent interview on a local news channel, the 46 year-old grandmother (who now goes by the Muslim name “Zubaida”) complained about being targeted for extra scrutiny by Homeland Security agents when she is flying to and from Germany to visit her 28 year-old Muslim husband.
DUH...ya think?
Gosh, a Muslim convert who posts jihad videos on YouTube and "friends" herself with Islamic terrorists on Facebook...what possible concern could the TSA have with a passenger like that? I can only hope she has gone through an enhanced pat-down if she is ever sitting next to me on a flight!
In the eyes of an Islamic jihadist, we in America are the infidels. The United States is the "Great Satan." According to the tenets of Sharia Law, we must either convert to Islam or be subjugated and destroyed. We, along with Israel, the "Little Satan", are the primary targets of the worldwide jihad.
What it clearly boils down to is that anyone who supports jihad is advocating violent acts of war against the United States. People with common sense might reasonably classify that as treason.
Smith claims she is being hassled because she is exercising her First Amendment rights to free speech. I am the strongest supporter of the First Amendment that you will ever meet, but when it comes to treasonous speech, we have to draw a line.
Article 3, Section 3 of the Constitution states: "Treason against the United States, shall consist only in levying War against them, or in adhering to their Enemies, giving them Aid and Comfort. No Person shall be convicted of Treason unless on the Testimony of two Witnesses to the same overt Act, or on Confession in open Court."
Could a reasonable person conclude that associating with known terrorists and making videos sympathetic to their cause is adhering to the enemy and giving them aid and comfort?
My heritage traces back to German immigrants who came to the Midwest in the early 1900s. Indianapolis is home to multitudes of German descendants.
During World War II, you absolutely did NOT find any local German-Americans strutting about wearing swastikas and singing the praises of the Fuhrer. This is because these people were Americans first, and loved this country, and would never want to support an enemy of the USA.
Also, anyone crazy enough to have done such a thing would have been locked up, and rightfully so. We have wonderful freedoms in America, more than anywhere else in the world, but we do not have the right to betray our country.
Kathie Smith has no more right to live in Indianapolis and advocate our destruction in 2010 than my grandparents would have had to fly Nazi banners from their front porch in 1942.
Any culture that is so muddle-headed that it allows foreign enemies, or home-grown traitors, to operate with impunity is a society slowly committing suicide by stupidity. It's a kind of cultural Darwinism -- a nation too spineless to defend itself will eventually become extinct.
Our Constitution is the most magnificent political document in human history. All Americans cherish the guarantees of freedom it contains. But our liberties do not constitute a suicide pact. We all have a responsibility to defend the United States from enemies foreign and domestic. Our elected officials and military personnel declare an oath to that effect when they are sworn into service.
For the preservation of our culture -- for the sake of our children -- we have an obligation to deal swiftly with traitors.
Kathie Smith should be charged with treason and jailed, or deported to the Islamic utopia of her choice. Under no circumstances should she, or anyone else advocating jihad, be allowed to operate freely in our midst.
Such people have chosen to betray us. By supporting jihad, they are supporting the war against America.
For more information on this story:
Keeping Tabs on Granny Jihad
Fox 59 News Report
Friday, December 31, 2010
Hope You Liked That $4 Gas
I originally posted this blog in November 2009. You may have missed it. I have decided to re-post since it is now more timely than when originally written. Only now, things are even worse, since President Obama has halted new drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. I hate to say I told you so, but...
Okay, boys and girls, settle into your seats for a quick lesson in Remedial Economics from Professor Dave.
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.
Okay, boys and girls, settle into your seats for a quick lesson in Remedial Economics from Professor Dave.
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.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Jesus Who?
I've heard about everything this Christmas season except "Merry Christmas!"
Looking over the cards we have received here at Smith Manor, I am struck by the amazing number of ways we can weasel around saying anything that has to do with baby Jesus. You remember him - the God-Man, born of a virgin, came to offer himself for the sins of the world - yeah, that's the guy I'm talking about. We used to understand that Christmas was celebrated in his honor.
But now, well, it is "Happy Holidays", "Season's Greetings", "Winter Greetings", whatever. Anything but "Merry Christmas."
The Daily Mail website recently reported that the British Red Cross has banned Christmas references from any decorations in its fund-raising shops in Britain, so as not to offend Muslims.
Another recent Daily Mail article reported on some interesting facts about Christmastime in Nazi Germany.
No surprise, Hitler was not a big fan of Christmas. The Mail article states, "Hitler believed religion had no place in his 1,000-year Reich, so he replaced the Christian figure of Saint Nicholas with the Norse god Odin and urged Germans to celebrate the season as a holiday of the ‘winter solstice’, rather than Christmas."
It is always the same with tyrants: Religion has to go. No worldview or belief system can be tolerated that might challenge the supremacy of the all-powerful state.
So when people try to tamp down public expressions of faith, or marginalize the role of Christian values in our society, or make it politically incorrect to say something as simple and beautiful as "Merry Christmas", I not only become irritated, I become alarmed.
Because whenever people feel the need to suppress faith in God, there is an agenda involved. And it never leads to anything good.
Looking over the cards we have received here at Smith Manor, I am struck by the amazing number of ways we can weasel around saying anything that has to do with baby Jesus. You remember him - the God-Man, born of a virgin, came to offer himself for the sins of the world - yeah, that's the guy I'm talking about. We used to understand that Christmas was celebrated in his honor.
But now, well, it is "Happy Holidays", "Season's Greetings", "Winter Greetings", whatever. Anything but "Merry Christmas."
The Daily Mail website recently reported that the British Red Cross has banned Christmas references from any decorations in its fund-raising shops in Britain, so as not to offend Muslims.
Another recent Daily Mail article reported on some interesting facts about Christmastime in Nazi Germany.
No surprise, Hitler was not a big fan of Christmas. The Mail article states, "Hitler believed religion had no place in his 1,000-year Reich, so he replaced the Christian figure of Saint Nicholas with the Norse god Odin and urged Germans to celebrate the season as a holiday of the ‘winter solstice’, rather than Christmas."
It is always the same with tyrants: Religion has to go. No worldview or belief system can be tolerated that might challenge the supremacy of the all-powerful state.
So when people try to tamp down public expressions of faith, or marginalize the role of Christian values in our society, or make it politically incorrect to say something as simple and beautiful as "Merry Christmas", I not only become irritated, I become alarmed.
Because whenever people feel the need to suppress faith in God, there is an agenda involved. And it never leads to anything good.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Shortcomings of the Canadian Model
Mark Steyn is the funniest prophet of doom I have ever read. Here is a link to a great piece he did for Hillsdale College concerning the Canadian economy and it's health care system. READ MORE
Friday, October 22, 2010
What Shariah Law Did to Sudan
An immigrant who had escaped the horrors of the genocide in Sudan tells his story, and lends his reasoned opposition to the building of the Ground Zero Mosque. READ MORE
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Remember in November!
In just a few short weeks we will participate in what could be one of the most important elections in American history. We will decide whether America continues what could become an irreversible slide into socialism.
A lot of intelligent people, who should have known better, decided to roll the dice in November of 2008 and vote for Barack Obama, a charismatic candidate who was long on platitudes and short on experience. A collapsing economy, and the unattractive Republican alternative of John McCain, helped to ensure Obama's historic election as our first black president.
Unfortunately, Obama has shown himself to be our most radical leftist president, and with his bullet-proof majorities in Congress, we have enabled him to inflict serious damage to the fabric of our republic. We have now seen what happens to our liberties when we allow ourselves to be ruled by a one-party government with a promiscuous lust for power.
This November 2, we have to remember what is at stake.
We have to remember that this regime is running budget deficits that are bankrupting our economy, and saddling our grandchildren with debts they will never be able to repay.
We must remember the 2,000-page legislative bills that no one had time to read, that were passed in the middle of the night in defiant disregard of the clearly expressed will of the majority of American voters.
We must remember Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan, Obama's first two appointments to the Supreme Court. How many more left-wing justices like them can our constitutional system endure and still remain intact?
We must remember the blatant disregard for the rule of law (aka "the Chicago Way") employed by the Obama regime in the takeover of General Motors and Chrysler. The federal government basically stole the pension money invested in GM and Chrysler bonds (a supposedly "secured" investment) so that Obama could reward his union supporters at the expense of retired schoolteachers and firefighters.
We must remember the vast, new, mind-boggling array of medical-device taxes coming our way as a result of Obamacare, with new fees being levied on everything from band-aids to hearing-aids.
We must remember that the Obama administration has found only one area in the budget that it believes needs cut: national defense. In today's dangerous world -- a world awash in terrorist states, an ascendant Communist Chinese military machine, a saber-rattling Iran and a nuclear-armed North Korea -- Mr. Obama is perfectly content to scale back our missile defense systems and our military hardware procurements.
We must remember the liberal members of Congress who have decided that they know what is best for us, and how they have arrogantly dismissed the desires of their constituents. Who can ever forget Nancy Pelosi's infamous retort to questions about Obamacare: "We have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it."
Someone should buy every liberal member of Congress a dictionary and force them to look up the definition of "representative."
The events of the past 20 months have made it painfully obvious: These people don't care what we think. They don't care what we want. The only thing that will stop these leftists from steamrolling over our liberties is to hand them a pink slip on election day and send them back home.
This November 2, we need to send a loud, clear message to everyone who seeks the honor and privilege of representing us in Congress: If you want to keep your job, you had better remember who you work for. In America, "we the people" rule!
A lot of intelligent people, who should have known better, decided to roll the dice in November of 2008 and vote for Barack Obama, a charismatic candidate who was long on platitudes and short on experience. A collapsing economy, and the unattractive Republican alternative of John McCain, helped to ensure Obama's historic election as our first black president.
Unfortunately, Obama has shown himself to be our most radical leftist president, and with his bullet-proof majorities in Congress, we have enabled him to inflict serious damage to the fabric of our republic. We have now seen what happens to our liberties when we allow ourselves to be ruled by a one-party government with a promiscuous lust for power.
This November 2, we have to remember what is at stake.
We have to remember that this regime is running budget deficits that are bankrupting our economy, and saddling our grandchildren with debts they will never be able to repay.
We must remember the 2,000-page legislative bills that no one had time to read, that were passed in the middle of the night in defiant disregard of the clearly expressed will of the majority of American voters.
We must remember Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan, Obama's first two appointments to the Supreme Court. How many more left-wing justices like them can our constitutional system endure and still remain intact?
We must remember the blatant disregard for the rule of law (aka "the Chicago Way") employed by the Obama regime in the takeover of General Motors and Chrysler. The federal government basically stole the pension money invested in GM and Chrysler bonds (a supposedly "secured" investment) so that Obama could reward his union supporters at the expense of retired schoolteachers and firefighters.
We must remember the vast, new, mind-boggling array of medical-device taxes coming our way as a result of Obamacare, with new fees being levied on everything from band-aids to hearing-aids.
We must remember that the Obama administration has found only one area in the budget that it believes needs cut: national defense. In today's dangerous world -- a world awash in terrorist states, an ascendant Communist Chinese military machine, a saber-rattling Iran and a nuclear-armed North Korea -- Mr. Obama is perfectly content to scale back our missile defense systems and our military hardware procurements.
We must remember the liberal members of Congress who have decided that they know what is best for us, and how they have arrogantly dismissed the desires of their constituents. Who can ever forget Nancy Pelosi's infamous retort to questions about Obamacare: "We have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it."
Someone should buy every liberal member of Congress a dictionary and force them to look up the definition of "representative."
The events of the past 20 months have made it painfully obvious: These people don't care what we think. They don't care what we want. The only thing that will stop these leftists from steamrolling over our liberties is to hand them a pink slip on election day and send them back home.
This November 2, we need to send a loud, clear message to everyone who seeks the honor and privilege of representing us in Congress: If you want to keep your job, you had better remember who you work for. In America, "we the people" rule!
Sunday, October 10, 2010
I Don't Know Where They Are
A number of people I loved have died in recent years.
They were all people I had known for a long time. They were honest, decent people -- people who had loved me and treated me kindly.
I miss them all.
If you live long enough, you will realize that kind people are few and far between. So when the Lord brings kind people across my path, I do my best to keep them on my radar.
Good people are hard to find, and I hate to let any of them go from my life. But death, being no respecter of persons, will take them away in a heartbeat.
What bothers me most of all, besides the loss of their companionship, is that I don't know if I will see many of them again. To the best of my knowledge, few of those people -- good people, people with kind hearts -- few of them had ever bent their knee before the God of heaven.
The Bible teaches clearly that no one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born again. Unless a person has surrendered his life to Jesus and obtained forgiveness through His blood, there is no entry into heaven. Only Jesus can impart the gift of eternal life. Apart from Him, there is no hope for salvation.
Few of the people I loved could testify that they had given their hearts to Jesus and found forgiveness for their sins. Few of them, good people though they were, humanly speaking, were ready for eternity, at least as far as I knew from discussions I had with them while they still walked this earth.
Of course, there is always the hope, and always the chance, that someone nearing their final hours could experience a death-bed conversion, and depart from this life into eternal glory. That is always a possibility, but not really very likely in most cases. Generally speaking, people who harden their hearts towards God find it more difficult to come to Him after so many years of telling themselves that they can make it on their own.
So, while I hope for the best for so many of my departed friends and relatives, I cannot be certain of their eternal destiny.
This saddens me more than words can convey. I dread to think what a godless eternity would be like. I dread to think that someone I love could be facing eternal darkness, all because they were too stubborn to kneel before the Creator of the universe and ask His forgiveness before it was too late.
Please listen, my friends who are still alive -- death is too late. You need to give your life to the Lord NOW, while it is still within your power to do so. There is no guarantee that you will have tomorrow.
So I keep hoping for the best. I pray that there was a last-minute decision by my friends to surrender their hearts to Jesus. It is a slim hope, but I often remind myself about the thief on the cross, who repented just hours before his death, and lived to hear Jesus tell him, "Today you will be with me in paradise."
I wish I could somehow know if they had made peace with God in their final hours. I wish I could know where they are.
They were all people I had known for a long time. They were honest, decent people -- people who had loved me and treated me kindly.
I miss them all.
If you live long enough, you will realize that kind people are few and far between. So when the Lord brings kind people across my path, I do my best to keep them on my radar.
Good people are hard to find, and I hate to let any of them go from my life. But death, being no respecter of persons, will take them away in a heartbeat.
What bothers me most of all, besides the loss of their companionship, is that I don't know if I will see many of them again. To the best of my knowledge, few of those people -- good people, people with kind hearts -- few of them had ever bent their knee before the God of heaven.
The Bible teaches clearly that no one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born again. Unless a person has surrendered his life to Jesus and obtained forgiveness through His blood, there is no entry into heaven. Only Jesus can impart the gift of eternal life. Apart from Him, there is no hope for salvation.
Few of the people I loved could testify that they had given their hearts to Jesus and found forgiveness for their sins. Few of them, good people though they were, humanly speaking, were ready for eternity, at least as far as I knew from discussions I had with them while they still walked this earth.
Of course, there is always the hope, and always the chance, that someone nearing their final hours could experience a death-bed conversion, and depart from this life into eternal glory. That is always a possibility, but not really very likely in most cases. Generally speaking, people who harden their hearts towards God find it more difficult to come to Him after so many years of telling themselves that they can make it on their own.
So, while I hope for the best for so many of my departed friends and relatives, I cannot be certain of their eternal destiny.
This saddens me more than words can convey. I dread to think what a godless eternity would be like. I dread to think that someone I love could be facing eternal darkness, all because they were too stubborn to kneel before the Creator of the universe and ask His forgiveness before it was too late.
Please listen, my friends who are still alive -- death is too late. You need to give your life to the Lord NOW, while it is still within your power to do so. There is no guarantee that you will have tomorrow.
So I keep hoping for the best. I pray that there was a last-minute decision by my friends to surrender their hearts to Jesus. It is a slim hope, but I often remind myself about the thief on the cross, who repented just hours before his death, and lived to hear Jesus tell him, "Today you will be with me in paradise."
I wish I could somehow know if they had made peace with God in their final hours. I wish I could know where they are.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
What I Learned Today at School
I like to think of life as a kind of continuing adult education program. I possess several degrees from the School of Hard Knocks, and I am particularly proud of my Working Man's PhD.
If you are paying attention you will, in fact, learn something new every day. I learned several new things just this evening, so in the interest of my readers' enlightenment, I will be happy to share these recent life-lessons with you. Pay attention, there may be a quiz later.
If you are paying attention you will, in fact, learn something new every day. I learned several new things just this evening, so in the interest of my readers' enlightenment, I will be happy to share these recent life-lessons with you. Pay attention, there may be a quiz later.
When cooking with a wok, I find that an aromatic wok oil consisting of a blend of garlic, ginger, sesame and soybean oils imparts a delicious flavor to a healthy batch of home-made Vegetable Lo-Mein. Ideally, your wok will be just hot enough to cause the wok oil to smoke when you drizzle it into the wok immediately before adding your vegetables.
If you become distracted and allow the wok to become "blue hot" before you add the wok oil, the wok oil will quickly vaporize, burst into a fireball, and become a blazing inferno atop your stove.
The fireball is likely to cause you to reflexively jump back, which can result in you spilling wok oil on the kitchen floor and all over the front of your shirt.
Your wife will not be pleased when she walks into the kitchen and notices that there is an inferno on the stove, even if it is safely contained within your wok.
Never attempt to extinguish an oil fire with water. You should smother the fire with a large towel, but preferably not your wife's favorite new Pampered Chef's terry cloth print towel, even if it is the closest thing within reach.
After the blaze is extinguished, a dedicated chef will resume preparing his recipe, carrying on as if nothing unusual has happened, despite the smokey working conditions.
Burnt wok oil imparts an appetizing "fire-roasted" flavor to the vegetables in your lo-mein.
Wok oil stains are difficult to remove from a cotton shirt, and so is the smell of garlic and ginger.
Wok oil imparts a lovely sheen to the vinyl tile on your kitchen floor, and could be used in a pinch if you happen to run out of Mop n' Glo.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Questions, Questions, Questions
Happy to report that Mrs. Smith and I had a great time in downtown Indy at the Ribfest this past Sunday evening. One of my favorite bands, Collective Soul, played for 90 minutes to close out the festivities for that day.
During the concert, I engaged in one of my favorite past-times: people-watching. There was quite a diverse crowd of BBQ lovers on hand, and since that excursion, some stray questions have crossed my mind, which I will now share with you, in no particular order.
1. How would I look with a spiked yellow Mohawk?
2. Am I the only person in Indianapolis without a tattoo?
3. Would I look younger if I wore plaid boxer shorts and let my jeans slide halfway down my butt?
4. How much does it hurt to have your tongue pierced?
5. Can you really get people to give you money by leaning against a lamp post and shaking a plastic cup?
6. Who has time to write graffiti inside a port-o-let?
7. Who keeps a toddler up until 10:30 at night and takes him to a concert without hearing protection?
8. How far do you have to move away from a crying toddler so that you can enjoy the concert?
9. Why did I wear a white shirt to a Rib Festival?
10. After all these years, does Peggy ever get tired of cleaning me up?
11. If the street is dark and there is no policeman to see you, is it still jaywalking?
12. Why is there only one bench in Military Park?
13. Should women whose waist size exceeds their bust size wear tank tops in public?
14. How much does it cost to cover your entire upper torso in tattoos?
15. Would I feel self-conscious if I had a piece of metal stuck through my nose?
During the concert, I engaged in one of my favorite past-times: people-watching. There was quite a diverse crowd of BBQ lovers on hand, and since that excursion, some stray questions have crossed my mind, which I will now share with you, in no particular order.
1. How would I look with a spiked yellow Mohawk?
2. Am I the only person in Indianapolis without a tattoo?
3. Would I look younger if I wore plaid boxer shorts and let my jeans slide halfway down my butt?
4. How much does it hurt to have your tongue pierced?
5. Can you really get people to give you money by leaning against a lamp post and shaking a plastic cup?
6. Who has time to write graffiti inside a port-o-let?
7. Who keeps a toddler up until 10:30 at night and takes him to a concert without hearing protection?
8. How far do you have to move away from a crying toddler so that you can enjoy the concert?
9. Why did I wear a white shirt to a Rib Festival?
10. After all these years, does Peggy ever get tired of cleaning me up?
11. If the street is dark and there is no policeman to see you, is it still jaywalking?
12. Why is there only one bench in Military Park?
13. Should women whose waist size exceeds their bust size wear tank tops in public?
14. How much does it cost to cover your entire upper torso in tattoos?
15. Would I feel self-conscious if I had a piece of metal stuck through my nose?
Sunday, August 15, 2010
How Not To Be Poor
Living in such a rich country, it is easy for us to take things for granted. We can forget how blessed we are. In a recession economy, we can become discouraged, and neglect being grateful for the many things we DO have.
Many Americans are facing tough economic times right now. People have lost jobs and homes. Many have been forced to take lower-paying jobs, perhaps working two jobs to make ends meet. Some people have been forced to draw unemployment while they try to find a job.
Most of us have faced tough times before, and the traditional American way of dealing with them is simply to buckle down and work through them. When times are hard, you do whatever you have to do to make things work. It's not easy, it's not pretty, but that is life in the real world.
With the exception of facing health issues beyond their control, anyone in America who is willing to work, and is careful with their money, will find a way to take care of themselves. This is still a land of opportunity. No one can guarantee that you will be wealthy or have everything you desire, but no one in America has to live in poverty.
I had heard Walter Williams speaking on the radio recently, and he discussed his four rules for avoiding poverty. I thought he articulated a great, common-sense approach to avoiding the welfare trap that too many Americans find themselves in these days.
I found an article he had written on the Internet that laid out his four rules for avoiding poverty, and here is the essence of his essay:
The more I read of Walter Williams' work, the more I love the guy. He deals straight up, lays his cards on the table, and gives you a look at life through the lens of reality.
So, if his prescription for economic health seems overly simplistic to you, I advise you to observe and take note of the people who end up on welfare. Everyone I've ever known in poverty has violated one or more of these simple principles. As my granddaughter so often tells me: "I'm just sayin'..."
To read Walter Williams' pithy essay in its entirety, go to
http://www.capitalismmagazine.com/politics/poverty/4223-How-Not-Poor.html
Many Americans are facing tough economic times right now. People have lost jobs and homes. Many have been forced to take lower-paying jobs, perhaps working two jobs to make ends meet. Some people have been forced to draw unemployment while they try to find a job.
Most of us have faced tough times before, and the traditional American way of dealing with them is simply to buckle down and work through them. When times are hard, you do whatever you have to do to make things work. It's not easy, it's not pretty, but that is life in the real world.
With the exception of facing health issues beyond their control, anyone in America who is willing to work, and is careful with their money, will find a way to take care of themselves. This is still a land of opportunity. No one can guarantee that you will be wealthy or have everything you desire, but no one in America has to live in poverty.
I had heard Walter Williams speaking on the radio recently, and he discussed his four rules for avoiding poverty. I thought he articulated a great, common-sense approach to avoiding the welfare trap that too many Americans find themselves in these days.
I found an article he had written on the Internet that laid out his four rules for avoiding poverty, and here is the essence of his essay:
"Avoiding long-term poverty is not rocket science. First, graduate from high school. Second, get married before you have children, and stay married. Third, work at any kind of job, even one that starts out paying the minimum wage. And, finally, avoid engaging in criminal behavior."
The more I read of Walter Williams' work, the more I love the guy. He deals straight up, lays his cards on the table, and gives you a look at life through the lens of reality.
So, if his prescription for economic health seems overly simplistic to you, I advise you to observe and take note of the people who end up on welfare. Everyone I've ever known in poverty has violated one or more of these simple principles. As my granddaughter so often tells me: "I'm just sayin'..."
To read Walter Williams' pithy essay in its entirety, go to
http://www.capitalismmagazine.com/politics/poverty/4223-How-Not-Poor.html
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Give Us Back Our Summertime!
Ah, the dog days of summer. The sun is high in the sky, baking the parched grass. The beach is warm and inviting as the waves lap against the shore. The aroma of coconut oil wafts across the pool at Garfield Park, and for some reason I cannot fathom: KIDS ARE STANDING AT THE CURB WAITING FOR THE SCHOOL BUS!
Whatever happened to summer?
This ever-earlier encroachment of the start of school on summer vacation has irked me for years, and the situation is only getting worse. There are elementary schools around here that started on August 2nd. My neighbor began his "fall" semester at Southport High School on August 10th.
Again I ask: whatever happened to summer?
Educators tell us that we need a longer school year to pump our students' heads up with more knowledge so they can compete in an increasingly high-tech world. Okay, I get that. But if you are going to add days to the school year, why not add them in June, when it is cooler and less humid. Why screw up the month of August, the best part of summer?
I have heard educators say that adding days in June is not productive, since kids are looking forward to the end of the school year, and they begin to lose focus on their studies.
Well, duh! The reason kids begin to lose their focus in April is because they know they are getting out of school in May. If we move the school calendar back, then students can begin to lose their focus in May because they know that school will end in June. I see no real problem here.
When you live in a place like Indiana (as I have for my entire life) summertime is a precious and fleeting season. If you enjoy outdoor activities like swimming, boating and camping, there is a narrow window of opportunity to indulge in these pleasures.
May is totally unpredictable, and the water in our lakes is too cold to allow most us to swim. June is almost as bad, with lots of rainy days and cool nights. In addition, in June many of the state park reservoirs are flooded from the spring rains, which closes the beaches, and sometimes the marinas.
For summer junkies like me, that leaves July, August and maybe the first half of September. A mere two and half months to enjoy our summertime, and then we face another long dreary wait through fall, another brutal midwestern winter, and a soggy cold spring before we can play out in the water again.
Life is short. In my opinion, we all work too much and play too little. There are too few pleasures as it is, and for our schools to steal away the best part of summer just doesn't make sense to me. Summertime activities are wonderful ways for families to spend time together and make memories.
As I write this, on Wednesday August 11, it is 88 degrees at 9:00 in the morning. The high today is forecast at 96 degrees. Days like this are created for people to relax, work on a tan, and play in the water.
But today, the beach at Eagle Creek Park is closed. The pools in the Indianapolis city parks are closed. It's hitting 96 degrees in the middle of August, and there is nowhere nearby to go swimming BECAUSE THE LIFE GUARDS HAD TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL!
Conversely, you could go to a city pool in early June and shoot off a cannon without hitting anything but a pigeon, since no one in their right mind wants to go swimming when it is 75 degrees and raining. But that's when our pools are open, because we don't have enough sense to schedule summer vacations during the time that it is actually summer!
It is ridiculous to lose our summers like this. We are all cheated out of one of the best parts of the year because we can't get the schools to schedule summer vacations during the summertime. If you want to help change this situation, join the Save Indiana Summers campaign.
Whatever happened to summer?
This ever-earlier encroachment of the start of school on summer vacation has irked me for years, and the situation is only getting worse. There are elementary schools around here that started on August 2nd. My neighbor began his "fall" semester at Southport High School on August 10th.
Again I ask: whatever happened to summer?
Educators tell us that we need a longer school year to pump our students' heads up with more knowledge so they can compete in an increasingly high-tech world. Okay, I get that. But if you are going to add days to the school year, why not add them in June, when it is cooler and less humid. Why screw up the month of August, the best part of summer?
I have heard educators say that adding days in June is not productive, since kids are looking forward to the end of the school year, and they begin to lose focus on their studies.
Well, duh! The reason kids begin to lose their focus in April is because they know they are getting out of school in May. If we move the school calendar back, then students can begin to lose their focus in May because they know that school will end in June. I see no real problem here.
When you live in a place like Indiana (as I have for my entire life) summertime is a precious and fleeting season. If you enjoy outdoor activities like swimming, boating and camping, there is a narrow window of opportunity to indulge in these pleasures.
May is totally unpredictable, and the water in our lakes is too cold to allow most us to swim. June is almost as bad, with lots of rainy days and cool nights. In addition, in June many of the state park reservoirs are flooded from the spring rains, which closes the beaches, and sometimes the marinas.
For summer junkies like me, that leaves July, August and maybe the first half of September. A mere two and half months to enjoy our summertime, and then we face another long dreary wait through fall, another brutal midwestern winter, and a soggy cold spring before we can play out in the water again.
Life is short. In my opinion, we all work too much and play too little. There are too few pleasures as it is, and for our schools to steal away the best part of summer just doesn't make sense to me. Summertime activities are wonderful ways for families to spend time together and make memories.
As I write this, on Wednesday August 11, it is 88 degrees at 9:00 in the morning. The high today is forecast at 96 degrees. Days like this are created for people to relax, work on a tan, and play in the water.
But today, the beach at Eagle Creek Park is closed. The pools in the Indianapolis city parks are closed. It's hitting 96 degrees in the middle of August, and there is nowhere nearby to go swimming BECAUSE THE LIFE GUARDS HAD TO GO BACK TO SCHOOL!
Conversely, you could go to a city pool in early June and shoot off a cannon without hitting anything but a pigeon, since no one in their right mind wants to go swimming when it is 75 degrees and raining. But that's when our pools are open, because we don't have enough sense to schedule summer vacations during the time that it is actually summer!
It is ridiculous to lose our summers like this. We are all cheated out of one of the best parts of the year because we can't get the schools to schedule summer vacations during the summertime. If you want to help change this situation, join the Save Indiana Summers campaign.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Not at Ground Zero
One of the most reasoned articles I've read concerning the "Ground Zero" Mosque in New York City was just published in the National Review. READ MORE
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
The Real Reason Men Get Married
It's not for sex or romance. It's not for companionship. It's not for the cooking or the housekeeping. So why do men really get married? We need someone nearby to help us find our stuff.
We don't know where we put anything. We have no concept of filing. The typical male idea of organization is to drop something wherever it seems convenient, and then expect to remember later where that place was. That's all we know how to do. It's a genetic defect.
Comedian Jeff Allen tells the story of leaving his underwear in the middle of the bedroom floor. His wife was irritated by his sloppiness and asked him, "Is that your underwear on the floor?"
"It better be," he replied, "or I've got a few questions I want to ask you!"
It's a known scientific fact that women are more organized than men. Women can file and sort and store and compartmentalize and arrange and archive -- simultaneously! They are amazing creatures. Why shouldn't we of the hapless male persuasion take advantage of such naturally ingrained female talents?
When you're a kid, you've got mom around to find your stuff for you.
"Mom, where's my shoes? Mom, have you seen my skateboard? Mom, where is my cap? Mom, did I leave my belt in the living room?"
My sweet mom had four boys. I doubt the poor woman had a day in her adult life that she didn't spend an hour or more tracking down the possessions misplaced by her clueless sons.
I had two sisters. They were pretty good at finding stuff, too. Except part of the time they were mad at us for teasing them or whatever, and then they would withhold their intel. Even my sainted mother, with her seemingly boundless patience, would occasionally become exasperated with us and erupt with the spine-chilling phrase that every boy dreads hearing: "It's wherever you put it!"
Wherever I put it? If I knew where I put it, I wouldn't have asked you. (Readers take note: never say that out loud. Trust me on this.)
There are some mornings that I know I would never make it out the front door if Peggy wasn't scurrying around the house finding all my lost stuff. It amazes me how those things travel around. Sometimes I actually suspect that she moves them behind my back just to set me off.
If she leaves for work before I do, I'm in big trouble. Last week I spent 15 minutes -- 15 MINUTES! -- trying to find my keys. I looked in all the usual spots. I retraced every step I had made that morning. I scanned my memory and double-checked all the possible drop zones. I was getting so frustrated I almost said, "Poop!"
I had finally given up when I happened to look down on the bed. There were my keys laying next to my pillow. How did they get on the bed? I didn't remember putting them there. I couldn't help but wonder if Peggy was laughing all the way into town wondering how long it would take me to find them. Those kinds of crazy thoughts go through a man's mind when he can't find his stuff.
Personally, I am drowning in stuff. Like most Americans, I have way more stuff than I know what to do with. I have stuff I haven't seen for years. I know it's around here somewhere, and as soon as Peggy has some extra time, I'm going to ask her to find it for me.
After all, that's why I got married in the first place.
We don't know where we put anything. We have no concept of filing. The typical male idea of organization is to drop something wherever it seems convenient, and then expect to remember later where that place was. That's all we know how to do. It's a genetic defect.
Comedian Jeff Allen tells the story of leaving his underwear in the middle of the bedroom floor. His wife was irritated by his sloppiness and asked him, "Is that your underwear on the floor?"
"It better be," he replied, "or I've got a few questions I want to ask you!"
It's a known scientific fact that women are more organized than men. Women can file and sort and store and compartmentalize and arrange and archive -- simultaneously! They are amazing creatures. Why shouldn't we of the hapless male persuasion take advantage of such naturally ingrained female talents?
When you're a kid, you've got mom around to find your stuff for you.
"Mom, where's my shoes? Mom, have you seen my skateboard? Mom, where is my cap? Mom, did I leave my belt in the living room?"
My sweet mom had four boys. I doubt the poor woman had a day in her adult life that she didn't spend an hour or more tracking down the possessions misplaced by her clueless sons.
I had two sisters. They were pretty good at finding stuff, too. Except part of the time they were mad at us for teasing them or whatever, and then they would withhold their intel. Even my sainted mother, with her seemingly boundless patience, would occasionally become exasperated with us and erupt with the spine-chilling phrase that every boy dreads hearing: "It's wherever you put it!"
Wherever I put it? If I knew where I put it, I wouldn't have asked you. (Readers take note: never say that out loud. Trust me on this.)
There are some mornings that I know I would never make it out the front door if Peggy wasn't scurrying around the house finding all my lost stuff. It amazes me how those things travel around. Sometimes I actually suspect that she moves them behind my back just to set me off.
If she leaves for work before I do, I'm in big trouble. Last week I spent 15 minutes -- 15 MINUTES! -- trying to find my keys. I looked in all the usual spots. I retraced every step I had made that morning. I scanned my memory and double-checked all the possible drop zones. I was getting so frustrated I almost said, "Poop!"
I had finally given up when I happened to look down on the bed. There were my keys laying next to my pillow. How did they get on the bed? I didn't remember putting them there. I couldn't help but wonder if Peggy was laughing all the way into town wondering how long it would take me to find them. Those kinds of crazy thoughts go through a man's mind when he can't find his stuff.
Personally, I am drowning in stuff. Like most Americans, I have way more stuff than I know what to do with. I have stuff I haven't seen for years. I know it's around here somewhere, and as soon as Peggy has some extra time, I'm going to ask her to find it for me.
After all, that's why I got married in the first place.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Finding a Home for James
Five-year-old James had come to live with the Paxton family nearly five months ago.
Though Steve and Jenny Paxton already had five children in their family, they decided, after much prayer, to make room for one more.
Steve's sister Barbara was a foster parent, and James had been placed with her after the Department of Child Services (DCS) had rescued him from a neglectful mother. It was the usual sad story, so familiar to workers in the child care field: mom liked to party, constantly moved in and out of various boyfriends' apartments, wouldn't get a job, wouldn't stay home, wouldn't take care of her children.
For all practical purposes, little James had been raised by his older sister Brenda, but she was almost 18 now, and was about to finish high school. She wasn't in a position to properly care for her brother, and DCS wanted to place James in a permanent adoptive home.
Barbara, his foster mom, loved the little boy, and she worked hard to make him feel at home. But she was a widowed grandmother, and she had some health issues that kept her from being the ideal candidate for a permanent adoptive placement.
So it was that Barbara had the idea of introducing James to her youngest brother Steve and his wife Jenny. Barbara never mentioned to Steve and Jenny that she thought they would be the perfect parents for James, but she made sure to invite the Paxtons and their kids over for regular cookouts and pool parties, and she was not surprised at all when James became friends with their youngest son, 7-year-old Brandon.
Actually, it was Jenny who first spoke of the possibility of adopting James. One evening during a cookout/sleepover, with the youngest kids put to bed, and the older kids playing Euchre in the family room, the adults were settled down with some cold drinks on the back porch. Jenny looked at Barbara and asked how things were going with finding a home for James.
"Nothing on the horizon yet," Barbara replied. "There are a lot more kids around than there are adoptive homes."
Jenny spoke softly, "I wonder if he would like to live with us. Look how well he gets along with the kids, especially Brandon. They are practically inseparable."
Steve arched an eyebrow as he glanced sideways at his wife. "Am I allowed into this conversation? Are you telling me five kids aren't enough to keep you busy?"
Jenny just smiled at him and said, "You know you love that little boy just as much as I do."
So it was on that night, ten months ago, that Steve and Jenny made the decision to contact the family services agency and begin the long process of adopting James. It was an emotional roller coaster for Jenny. Her world suddenly became a whirl of adoption agency visits, background checks, interviews, home inspections and adoptive parent classes.
At times she wondered if they had gotten in over their heads. What if James didn't really bond with them? What if he became a disruption to the rest of the family? The adoption classes were sobering exercises, since the instructor took the parents through all sorts of case studies and prepared them for a variety of unpleasant contingencies.
She learned that adopted children often arrive with a lot of emotional baggage, especially if they have been neglected or abused by their mothers at a young age. James' therapist had informed the Paxtons early on that James suffered to some degree from Reactive Attachment Disorder, and would likely have difficulty establishing close relationships with others, since he had never had an opportunity to bond with anyone as an infant.
James was also known to have abrupt angry outbursts, and his kindergarten teacher wanted him to be tested for ADHD, thinking that might explain why he was sometimes so disruptive in class.
"Oh God," Jenny prayed every night, "Help me do the right thing here."
It had been five months now since James had moved in. He was living in the Paxton home on a six-month trial placement. If all went well, he could be legally adopted at the end of that time.
Jenny's heart ached for the little guy as she watched him struggle to acclimate himself to their household routine. It was quite an adjustment for James, moving from Barbara's home, where he was the only child, to the Paxton house that hummed with the bustling about of five older children.
Jenny was thrilled to observe that James had bonded right away with her husband. James had never had a male role model in his life, and to suddenly have a father at the age of five was an exhilarating experience for him. He became Steve's little shadow, following him around the yard, helping with the chores. If Steve was doing it, James was doing it.
But James seemed to keep Jenny at arm's length. He behaved well for her, and he would hug her at night, but it was always a quick casual hug, and he never rushed to cuddle in her lap the way he liked to do with her husband. She assumed that he still missed Barbara, since he had lived with her for over a year, and she had become a mother figure to him. So sad, Jenny thought, that such a little boy had to keep starting over again.
Last night, Jenny was tucking the younger boys into bed. She knelt at James' bedside to say prayers with him, and got her usual quickie goodnight hug. She got up to leave, and was ready to shut the bedroom door when James said, "Come back, I need another hug."
Jenny returned to his bed, knelt down to hug him, and that was when he burst her heart.
James reached up, wrapped his skinny little arms around Jenny's soft warm neck, and for the first time ever, kissed her on the cheek.
"I love you, mom."
Jenny had to stifle a gasp, he had so taken her by surprise. She did not want him to see her cry. With amazing self control, she whispered in his ear, "I love you too, James."
They rocked back and forth together for a long time, locked in a soft, wonderful, comforting hug. A geyser of joyful tears and praises to God erupted silently from deep inside of Jenny.
The Lord had just given her another son.
Though Steve and Jenny Paxton already had five children in their family, they decided, after much prayer, to make room for one more.
Steve's sister Barbara was a foster parent, and James had been placed with her after the Department of Child Services (DCS) had rescued him from a neglectful mother. It was the usual sad story, so familiar to workers in the child care field: mom liked to party, constantly moved in and out of various boyfriends' apartments, wouldn't get a job, wouldn't stay home, wouldn't take care of her children.
For all practical purposes, little James had been raised by his older sister Brenda, but she was almost 18 now, and was about to finish high school. She wasn't in a position to properly care for her brother, and DCS wanted to place James in a permanent adoptive home.
Barbara, his foster mom, loved the little boy, and she worked hard to make him feel at home. But she was a widowed grandmother, and she had some health issues that kept her from being the ideal candidate for a permanent adoptive placement.
So it was that Barbara had the idea of introducing James to her youngest brother Steve and his wife Jenny. Barbara never mentioned to Steve and Jenny that she thought they would be the perfect parents for James, but she made sure to invite the Paxtons and their kids over for regular cookouts and pool parties, and she was not surprised at all when James became friends with their youngest son, 7-year-old Brandon.
Actually, it was Jenny who first spoke of the possibility of adopting James. One evening during a cookout/sleepover, with the youngest kids put to bed, and the older kids playing Euchre in the family room, the adults were settled down with some cold drinks on the back porch. Jenny looked at Barbara and asked how things were going with finding a home for James.
"Nothing on the horizon yet," Barbara replied. "There are a lot more kids around than there are adoptive homes."
Jenny spoke softly, "I wonder if he would like to live with us. Look how well he gets along with the kids, especially Brandon. They are practically inseparable."
Steve arched an eyebrow as he glanced sideways at his wife. "Am I allowed into this conversation? Are you telling me five kids aren't enough to keep you busy?"
Jenny just smiled at him and said, "You know you love that little boy just as much as I do."
So it was on that night, ten months ago, that Steve and Jenny made the decision to contact the family services agency and begin the long process of adopting James. It was an emotional roller coaster for Jenny. Her world suddenly became a whirl of adoption agency visits, background checks, interviews, home inspections and adoptive parent classes.
At times she wondered if they had gotten in over their heads. What if James didn't really bond with them? What if he became a disruption to the rest of the family? The adoption classes were sobering exercises, since the instructor took the parents through all sorts of case studies and prepared them for a variety of unpleasant contingencies.
She learned that adopted children often arrive with a lot of emotional baggage, especially if they have been neglected or abused by their mothers at a young age. James' therapist had informed the Paxtons early on that James suffered to some degree from Reactive Attachment Disorder, and would likely have difficulty establishing close relationships with others, since he had never had an opportunity to bond with anyone as an infant.
James was also known to have abrupt angry outbursts, and his kindergarten teacher wanted him to be tested for ADHD, thinking that might explain why he was sometimes so disruptive in class.
"Oh God," Jenny prayed every night, "Help me do the right thing here."
It had been five months now since James had moved in. He was living in the Paxton home on a six-month trial placement. If all went well, he could be legally adopted at the end of that time.
Jenny's heart ached for the little guy as she watched him struggle to acclimate himself to their household routine. It was quite an adjustment for James, moving from Barbara's home, where he was the only child, to the Paxton house that hummed with the bustling about of five older children.
Jenny was thrilled to observe that James had bonded right away with her husband. James had never had a male role model in his life, and to suddenly have a father at the age of five was an exhilarating experience for him. He became Steve's little shadow, following him around the yard, helping with the chores. If Steve was doing it, James was doing it.
But James seemed to keep Jenny at arm's length. He behaved well for her, and he would hug her at night, but it was always a quick casual hug, and he never rushed to cuddle in her lap the way he liked to do with her husband. She assumed that he still missed Barbara, since he had lived with her for over a year, and she had become a mother figure to him. So sad, Jenny thought, that such a little boy had to keep starting over again.
Last night, Jenny was tucking the younger boys into bed. She knelt at James' bedside to say prayers with him, and got her usual quickie goodnight hug. She got up to leave, and was ready to shut the bedroom door when James said, "Come back, I need another hug."
Jenny returned to his bed, knelt down to hug him, and that was when he burst her heart.
James reached up, wrapped his skinny little arms around Jenny's soft warm neck, and for the first time ever, kissed her on the cheek.
"I love you, mom."
Jenny had to stifle a gasp, he had so taken her by surprise. She did not want him to see her cry. With amazing self control, she whispered in his ear, "I love you too, James."
They rocked back and forth together for a long time, locked in a soft, wonderful, comforting hug. A geyser of joyful tears and praises to God erupted silently from deep inside of Jenny.
The Lord had just given her another son.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Life Is an Assignment
I couldn't help but notice as time went on that people kept dying.
At first they were few and far between. My grandmother, then a long time passed, then a grandfather, then later mom, then some aunts and uncles and a mother-in-law, father, father-in-law...well, the pace keeps picking up.
In the past year I've buried three good friends.
Not trying to be a downer, but you may have forgotten that you are, in fact, going to die. I think it was Jim Morrison who said, "Nobody gets out of here alive." My doctor commented once that life has a 100% mortality rate.
We don't like to think about it. We use euphemisms and play tricks on ourselves to keep from contemplating the inevitable final exit that we will make from this planet.
What we forget too often is that we were put here for a reason. God never accidentally created anyone. Each one of us is designed by the creator of the universe to fulfill a small piece of his cosmic plan. We were created for a mission.
Your life is an assignment.
So there's no use whining, as we so often do, about our problems or our disappointments. They come with the territory. God is not so much interested in fulfilling our desires as he is in us fulfilling his purposes.
The only way to begin to scratch the surface of your purpose is to come to the God who made you and make to him a gift of your life. Until you surrender your life to Jesus, you can never move ahead into the destiny that he has planned for you.
The Bible says that our lives are like a vapor, our days are short, our time here is as fleeting as the flowers that bloom today and wither tomorrow. Whatever God has planned for you, you should get busy and get to it ASAP.
You have one life to live. You have one chance to live it for God and make it count. You have one chance to fulfill your purpose for existence, and ensure that you can spend eternity in the presence of the glory of God.
Someday you will meet Jesus. Everyone will. If you meet him now while you're alive, you will meet him as your redeemer. If you put him off until you die, then you will meet him later as your judge. Not a good career move.
The clock is ticking. Tomorrow you will be another day older, and another day closer to eternity. Are you ready?
At first they were few and far between. My grandmother, then a long time passed, then a grandfather, then later mom, then some aunts and uncles and a mother-in-law, father, father-in-law...well, the pace keeps picking up.
In the past year I've buried three good friends.
Not trying to be a downer, but you may have forgotten that you are, in fact, going to die. I think it was Jim Morrison who said, "Nobody gets out of here alive." My doctor commented once that life has a 100% mortality rate.
We don't like to think about it. We use euphemisms and play tricks on ourselves to keep from contemplating the inevitable final exit that we will make from this planet.
What we forget too often is that we were put here for a reason. God never accidentally created anyone. Each one of us is designed by the creator of the universe to fulfill a small piece of his cosmic plan. We were created for a mission.
Your life is an assignment.
So there's no use whining, as we so often do, about our problems or our disappointments. They come with the territory. God is not so much interested in fulfilling our desires as he is in us fulfilling his purposes.
The only way to begin to scratch the surface of your purpose is to come to the God who made you and make to him a gift of your life. Until you surrender your life to Jesus, you can never move ahead into the destiny that he has planned for you.
The Bible says that our lives are like a vapor, our days are short, our time here is as fleeting as the flowers that bloom today and wither tomorrow. Whatever God has planned for you, you should get busy and get to it ASAP.
You have one life to live. You have one chance to live it for God and make it count. You have one chance to fulfill your purpose for existence, and ensure that you can spend eternity in the presence of the glory of God.
Someday you will meet Jesus. Everyone will. If you meet him now while you're alive, you will meet him as your redeemer. If you put him off until you die, then you will meet him later as your judge. Not a good career move.
The clock is ticking. Tomorrow you will be another day older, and another day closer to eternity. Are you ready?
Saturday, June 26, 2010
The Hypocrisy of Virtue
I'll never forget the conversation I had with my little girl about a week after she started kindergarten.
Stephanie seemed upset as I was tucking her into bed that evening, so I asked her if anything was wrong. She looked at me sadly and said, "Daddy, it's so hard to be good, and it's so easy to get into trouble."
Oh, little girl, truer words were never spoken!
I hated to have to tell her that she was right, and that it was pretty much the way life is. We are never more than one step away from stepping in it, and the road we travel in this life is fraught with peril.
If you are a Christian, you have a big advantage in dealing with the issues of life, since you are acquainted with, and hopefully striving to live for, the Creator of the universe. Knowing God, and living as a recipient of His grace, mercy and guidance, certainly gives you a leg up on anyone in the world who is struggling to make sense of it all without any divine revelation.
The problem is, even though we know God, and have received the salvation that Jesus died to secure for us, we are still sinful human beings. We are simply sinful human beings who have been redeemed by His grace.
I love to talk to people about the Lord, because He has been so good to me. He reached down and rescued me at the lowest point of my life. In my hour of greatest need, when I was convinced that God had rejected me, He graciously wrapped His arms around me and lifted my soul up into the glory of His presence.
I can never forget what He did for me. I could spend the rest of eternity recounting the multitudes of ways that He has blessed me, guided me, and loved on me in these ensuing years. God is good, and truly His mercies are new every morning. I can never thank Him enough.
However, like the little girl said, it is so hard to be good, and so easy to get into trouble.
As Christians, we are called to be witnesses for God before an unbelieving world. The Bible says that we are ambassadors for Christ, and that we serve as priests with a ministry of reconciliation. We are supposed to let our light shine before men so that they will praise our Father in heaven. Jesus told his disciples at the last supper that the world would know that we were His followers by the love that we showed for one another.
Needless to say, we generally don't do a very good job at any of these noble pursuits.
Now some of you reading this may be so sanctified that you don't understand what I am talking about. If so, congratulations to you. You must be on the A-list.
But I am willing to wager that most people, unfortunately, are more like me. Most of us fail repeatedly at righteous living. Temptations hide around every corner, stumbling blocks litter the sidewalks, and our own sinful natures war against us without ceasing.
Every morning when your feet hit the floor, a new day of spiritual warfare begins. You live in a battle zone, and it is important that you realize it. Otherwise, you can be ensnared and caught unaware by an enemy who wants to destroy your life and your soul. We live in a fallen world, and living right will never come naturally to us.
So it is hard to go out into the world, and share the good news of the gospel with people we know, because all they have to do is look at us to see that we aren't doing all that great a job of living for God ourselves.
I call this conundrum the Hypocrisy of Virtue.
The people closest to you know what you are like. They know how you just cut off the guy in the red minivan at the intersection, or how you went off on your spouse at dinner last night because you were in a bad mood, or how you called in sick at work because you stayed up too late the night before and really just wanted to sleep in. They know when you are selfish, or spiteful, or harsh with someone else. The list could go on and on.
Unrepentant sinners like to use our failings to excuse themselves from getting serious with God. If their hearts are hard, they can look at us and tell themselves, "I'm not so bad. That hypocrite Dave is trying to talk to me about God, and look what a schmuck he is."
Thankfully, Jesus looks upon us with more compassion. Yes, Dave is a schmuck, but by God's grace, he is doing better now than he did then. He is not yet where he is supposed to be, but he is not stuck way back where he used to be, either.
I keep a little magnet on my refrigerator that always encourages me. It is shaped like a caterpillar, and the caption below it says, "Be patient, God isn't finished with me yet."
Whatever my failings may be, you are still responsible before God for your own sinfulness. Until you can humble yourself before God, admit that you need His grace, and ask Jesus to take control of your life and forgive your sins, you are lost forever.
Unless you surrender your heart to Jesus, you are doomed for eternity. As Jesus declared to Nicodemus in John 3:3 -- "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again."
So I'll choose to take the risk of being labeled a hypocrite. At the end of my days, I would rather stand before God as a failed saint than a successful sinner.
Stephanie seemed upset as I was tucking her into bed that evening, so I asked her if anything was wrong. She looked at me sadly and said, "Daddy, it's so hard to be good, and it's so easy to get into trouble."
Oh, little girl, truer words were never spoken!
I hated to have to tell her that she was right, and that it was pretty much the way life is. We are never more than one step away from stepping in it, and the road we travel in this life is fraught with peril.
If you are a Christian, you have a big advantage in dealing with the issues of life, since you are acquainted with, and hopefully striving to live for, the Creator of the universe. Knowing God, and living as a recipient of His grace, mercy and guidance, certainly gives you a leg up on anyone in the world who is struggling to make sense of it all without any divine revelation.
The problem is, even though we know God, and have received the salvation that Jesus died to secure for us, we are still sinful human beings. We are simply sinful human beings who have been redeemed by His grace.
I love to talk to people about the Lord, because He has been so good to me. He reached down and rescued me at the lowest point of my life. In my hour of greatest need, when I was convinced that God had rejected me, He graciously wrapped His arms around me and lifted my soul up into the glory of His presence.
I can never forget what He did for me. I could spend the rest of eternity recounting the multitudes of ways that He has blessed me, guided me, and loved on me in these ensuing years. God is good, and truly His mercies are new every morning. I can never thank Him enough.
However, like the little girl said, it is so hard to be good, and so easy to get into trouble.
As Christians, we are called to be witnesses for God before an unbelieving world. The Bible says that we are ambassadors for Christ, and that we serve as priests with a ministry of reconciliation. We are supposed to let our light shine before men so that they will praise our Father in heaven. Jesus told his disciples at the last supper that the world would know that we were His followers by the love that we showed for one another.
Needless to say, we generally don't do a very good job at any of these noble pursuits.
Now some of you reading this may be so sanctified that you don't understand what I am talking about. If so, congratulations to you. You must be on the A-list.
But I am willing to wager that most people, unfortunately, are more like me. Most of us fail repeatedly at righteous living. Temptations hide around every corner, stumbling blocks litter the sidewalks, and our own sinful natures war against us without ceasing.
Every morning when your feet hit the floor, a new day of spiritual warfare begins. You live in a battle zone, and it is important that you realize it. Otherwise, you can be ensnared and caught unaware by an enemy who wants to destroy your life and your soul. We live in a fallen world, and living right will never come naturally to us.
So it is hard to go out into the world, and share the good news of the gospel with people we know, because all they have to do is look at us to see that we aren't doing all that great a job of living for God ourselves.
I call this conundrum the Hypocrisy of Virtue.
The people closest to you know what you are like. They know how you just cut off the guy in the red minivan at the intersection, or how you went off on your spouse at dinner last night because you were in a bad mood, or how you called in sick at work because you stayed up too late the night before and really just wanted to sleep in. They know when you are selfish, or spiteful, or harsh with someone else. The list could go on and on.
Unrepentant sinners like to use our failings to excuse themselves from getting serious with God. If their hearts are hard, they can look at us and tell themselves, "I'm not so bad. That hypocrite Dave is trying to talk to me about God, and look what a schmuck he is."
Thankfully, Jesus looks upon us with more compassion. Yes, Dave is a schmuck, but by God's grace, he is doing better now than he did then. He is not yet where he is supposed to be, but he is not stuck way back where he used to be, either.
I keep a little magnet on my refrigerator that always encourages me. It is shaped like a caterpillar, and the caption below it says, "Be patient, God isn't finished with me yet."
Whatever my failings may be, you are still responsible before God for your own sinfulness. Until you can humble yourself before God, admit that you need His grace, and ask Jesus to take control of your life and forgive your sins, you are lost forever.
Unless you surrender your heart to Jesus, you are doomed for eternity. As Jesus declared to Nicodemus in John 3:3 -- "I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again."
So I'll choose to take the risk of being labeled a hypocrite. At the end of my days, I would rather stand before God as a failed saint than a successful sinner.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Israel - Alone and Strong
Check out this interesting blog concerning the Iranian threat to Israel.
READ MORE
READ MORE
Saturday, June 5, 2010
From D-Day to Judgment Day?
On June 6, 1944, 66 years ago, allied troops crossed the English channel and began the liberation of Nazi-occupied Europe.
Many of the young men who served in the military during WWII have passed away since then. Those who remain are in their 80s and 90s, and still carry vivid memories of the drama of those perilous times.
President Roosevelt addressed the nation, via radio, on D-Day in 1944, and led the nation in a prayer for our armed forces. You can listen to his address here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-weBUzQleo
Could a president in the secular America of 2010 lead us in prayer today? How would we respond to that? Surely there would be protests from the ACLU. Americans United for Separation of Church and State, People for the American Way, and a host of other atheist and leftist organizations would screech like smashed cats at such an affront to their tender sensibilities by our commander-in-chief.
This is a sad commentary on how far this country has fallen away from God. Though founded by a predominantly Christian people, with a political system based on a Judeo-Christian worldview, America in 2010 is a hollow spiritual shell of it's former self.
For over 200 years we have prospered thanks to the blessings of our Creator. There was a time when this country could truly have been called a Christian nation. To be sure, America has had many failings, and there were terrible injustices committed over the years. Yet despite our mistakes, we were a beacon to the world, a light before men, and the last great bastion of liberty during so many dark years of tyranny in the world.
Unfortunately for this generation, we as a people have largely turned away from the God who created and sustained us. In the hardness of our hearts, we seem ignorant of the fact that the blessings of God on a nation are conditional. I pray that we will not be forced to discover what happens to a nation when God withdraws his blessings from it.
I hope and pray that we come to our senses ASAP and turn our hearts back towards God.
The 10th chapter of the book of Ezekiel tells a tragic story. The Lord was preparing to execute judgment against His rebellious, unrepentant people, and in anticipation of this, He took His glory away from temple in Jerusalem.
In the 22nd chapter of Ezekiel, God gives the prophet a list of the offenses that Jerusalem had committed against Him. Because of these transgressions, God's judgment was at hand. Terror and violence would soon be unleashed against the people of Jerusalem.
It is a sobering exercise to read the following verses, and then reflect on the conditions in America today.
Many of the young men who served in the military during WWII have passed away since then. Those who remain are in their 80s and 90s, and still carry vivid memories of the drama of those perilous times.
President Roosevelt addressed the nation, via radio, on D-Day in 1944, and led the nation in a prayer for our armed forces. You can listen to his address here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8-weBUzQleo
Could a president in the secular America of 2010 lead us in prayer today? How would we respond to that? Surely there would be protests from the ACLU. Americans United for Separation of Church and State, People for the American Way, and a host of other atheist and leftist organizations would screech like smashed cats at such an affront to their tender sensibilities by our commander-in-chief.
This is a sad commentary on how far this country has fallen away from God. Though founded by a predominantly Christian people, with a political system based on a Judeo-Christian worldview, America in 2010 is a hollow spiritual shell of it's former self.
For over 200 years we have prospered thanks to the blessings of our Creator. There was a time when this country could truly have been called a Christian nation. To be sure, America has had many failings, and there were terrible injustices committed over the years. Yet despite our mistakes, we were a beacon to the world, a light before men, and the last great bastion of liberty during so many dark years of tyranny in the world.
Unfortunately for this generation, we as a people have largely turned away from the God who created and sustained us. In the hardness of our hearts, we seem ignorant of the fact that the blessings of God on a nation are conditional. I pray that we will not be forced to discover what happens to a nation when God withdraws his blessings from it.
I hope and pray that we come to our senses ASAP and turn our hearts back towards God.
The 10th chapter of the book of Ezekiel tells a tragic story. The Lord was preparing to execute judgment against His rebellious, unrepentant people, and in anticipation of this, He took His glory away from temple in Jerusalem.
In the 22nd chapter of Ezekiel, God gives the prophet a list of the offenses that Jerusalem had committed against Him. Because of these transgressions, God's judgment was at hand. Terror and violence would soon be unleashed against the people of Jerusalem.
It is a sobering exercise to read the following verses, and then reflect on the conditions in America today.
The word of the LORD came to me: "Son of man, will you judge her? Will you judge this city of bloodshed? Then confront her with all her detestable practices and say: 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says: O city that brings on herself doom by shedding blood in her midst and defiles herself by making idols, you have become guilty because of the blood you have shed and have become defiled by the idols you have made. You have brought your days to a close, and the end of your years has come. Therefore I will make you an object of scorn to the nations and a laughingstock to all the countries. Those who are near and those who are far away will mock you, O infamous city, full of turmoil.
"See how each of the princes of Israel who are in you uses his power to shed blood. In you they have treated father and mother with contempt; in you they have oppressed the alien and mistreated the fatherless and the widow. You have despised my holy things and desecrated my Sabbaths. In you are slanderous men bent on shedding blood; in you are those who eat at the mountain shrines and commit lewd acts. In you are those who dishonor their fathers' bed; in you are those who violate women during their period, when they are ceremonially unclean. In you one man commits a detestable offense with his neighbor's wife, another shamefully defiles his daughter-in-law, and another violates his sister, his own father's daughter. In you men accept bribes to shed blood; you take usury and excessive interest and make unjust gain from your neighbors by extortion. And you have forgotten me, declares the Sovereign LORD." - Ezekiel 22: 1-12
Again the word of the LORD came to me: "Son of man, say to the land, 'You are a land that has had no rain or showers in the day of wrath.' There is a conspiracy of her princes within her like a roaring lion tearing its prey; they devour people, take treasures and precious things and make many widows within her. Her priests do violence to my law and profane my holy things; they do not distinguish between the holy and the common; they teach that there is no difference between the unclean and the clean; and they shut their eyes to the keeping of my Sabbaths, so that I am profaned among them. Her officials within her are like wolves tearing their prey; they shed blood and kill people to make unjust gain. Her prophets whitewash these deeds for them by false visions and lying divinations. They say, 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says'-when the LORD has not spoken. The people of the land practice extortion and commit robbery; they oppress the poor and needy and mistreat the alien, denying them justice." - Ezekiel 22: 23-29
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
A Duty To Die?
Thomas Sowell is a great columnist. Check out his view of the death culture among our modern American intelligentsia. READ MORE
Thursday, May 13, 2010
How Free Markets Help The Poor
Walter Williams, as usual, applies common sense to our understanding of free market capitalism. READ MORE.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Look Out Grandma, Big Brother Has Got His Eye On You
"And though the past had it's share of injustice,
fine was the spirit in many a way,
but it's protectors and friends have been sleeping --
now it's a monster and will not obey."
-- from the song The Monster by Steppenwolf
Here is another example of what happens when we allow the federal government to "help" us, and it proves the old adage that "Whoever pays the piper calls the tune."
Senior citizens dining at the Ed Young Senior Citizens Center in Port Wentworth, Georgia have offered a prayer of thanks before their meals for as long as anyone can remember. Now these elderly Americans, members of the greatest generation who sacrificed so much of their young lives to fight for our freedoms, are being told they can no longer pray together before their meals.
Federal regulations have graciously allowed them a moment of silence for private prayer - at least for now.
An outift called Senior Citizens Inc. has been contracted by the city of Port Wentworth to provide meals at the Senior Citizens Center, at a cost of about $6 per meal. The seniors pay only 55 cents for the meal, and the federal government makes up the difference.
So now, prayers before the meals are an issue - a violation, in the all-seeing eyes of our Big Brother in Washington, of the separation of church and state.
The rationale is that since the federal government is paying for the meals, federal guidelines must be followed in all areas related to the meal service.
First the kids couldn't pray in school. Now senior citizens can't pray aloud over their government-subsidized meals.
I wonder -- if you are eating food at home that was purchased with food stamps, will the government someday decide that your private meal-time activities must conform to federal regulations? You may laugh, and say that is ridiculous. But how ridiculous is censoring the prayers of senior citizens?
When we keep giving more money (which means more power) to the federal government, and keep inviting the federal government to get ever more deeply involved in every facet of our daily lives, we encourage the government to dictate the conduct of everything we do.
Should we be surprised that the government now tells senior citizens they can't pray aloud before a meal? Isn't this just the kind of power that liberals love to lord over us, the unwashed masses?
The bigger our government grows, the more of this we can expect. It is an irrrefutable lesson of history that power corrupts. We have created a monster, and as it grows more powerful, it will only become more corrupt and arbitrary in it's use of power.
How far will they push us before we push back? Just another reason to "Remember in November." The coming 2010 election will decide if we can reverse this tyrannical tide of government control, or continue to march towards the "brave new world" of the nanny state.
Check out the full news report at http://www.wsbtv.com/news/23495797/detail.html
fine was the spirit in many a way,
but it's protectors and friends have been sleeping --
now it's a monster and will not obey."
-- from the song The Monster by Steppenwolf
Here is another example of what happens when we allow the federal government to "help" us, and it proves the old adage that "Whoever pays the piper calls the tune."
Senior citizens dining at the Ed Young Senior Citizens Center in Port Wentworth, Georgia have offered a prayer of thanks before their meals for as long as anyone can remember. Now these elderly Americans, members of the greatest generation who sacrificed so much of their young lives to fight for our freedoms, are being told they can no longer pray together before their meals.
Federal regulations have graciously allowed them a moment of silence for private prayer - at least for now.
An outift called Senior Citizens Inc. has been contracted by the city of Port Wentworth to provide meals at the Senior Citizens Center, at a cost of about $6 per meal. The seniors pay only 55 cents for the meal, and the federal government makes up the difference.
So now, prayers before the meals are an issue - a violation, in the all-seeing eyes of our Big Brother in Washington, of the separation of church and state.
The rationale is that since the federal government is paying for the meals, federal guidelines must be followed in all areas related to the meal service.
First the kids couldn't pray in school. Now senior citizens can't pray aloud over their government-subsidized meals.
I wonder -- if you are eating food at home that was purchased with food stamps, will the government someday decide that your private meal-time activities must conform to federal regulations? You may laugh, and say that is ridiculous. But how ridiculous is censoring the prayers of senior citizens?
When we keep giving more money (which means more power) to the federal government, and keep inviting the federal government to get ever more deeply involved in every facet of our daily lives, we encourage the government to dictate the conduct of everything we do.
Should we be surprised that the government now tells senior citizens they can't pray aloud before a meal? Isn't this just the kind of power that liberals love to lord over us, the unwashed masses?
The bigger our government grows, the more of this we can expect. It is an irrrefutable lesson of history that power corrupts. We have created a monster, and as it grows more powerful, it will only become more corrupt and arbitrary in it's use of power.
How far will they push us before we push back? Just another reason to "Remember in November." The coming 2010 election will decide if we can reverse this tyrannical tide of government control, or continue to march towards the "brave new world" of the nanny state.
Check out the full news report at http://www.wsbtv.com/news/23495797/detail.html
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Tales from the Airport Men's Room
Let's face it: men are pigs.
We can't help it. We try to be civilized, but it just doesn't come naturally to us. Case in point: the condition of the average men's public restroom.
While en route home this week from a trip to Florida, the call of nature compelled me to visit the men's facilities in terminal 3 of the Fort Lauderdale airport.
Apparently a jumbo-jet full of men afflicted with incontinence, who had just finished an in-flight watermelon-eating contest, landed at the terminal right before I got to the restroom.
Oh, the inhumanity!
Various areas of the floor around the urinals were puddled with what I could only assume was something I really didn't want being tracked around on the bottom of my shoes. Guys were lined up three deep for the urinals. The stalls were filled.
I was in a hurry. I had a plane to catch.
Then I spotted the one empty stall in the corner. It was the extra-large stall marked for handicapped use.
There were no handicapped men in sight. It seemed a shame to let this valuable bit of real estate go to waste when there was a roomful of men in such dire need.
I calculated that even if someone in a wheelchair was heading that direction, I would be in and out before they could get there. Worst case scenario: I would have to abandon the mission mid-stream, so to speak, if a handicapped man in desperate straits began pounding on the door.
There are moments in a man's life when he is forced to make a split-second decision, and move forward regardless of the consequences.
I had made up my mind. I was going in.
So it was that I found myself in a clean, spacious stall, with its own private sink. It was an oasis of tranquility amidst the sloshing bedlam in the rest of the men's room. I suddenly wished I had a newspaper and a cup of coffee, and did not have to rush out to catch a plane.
It didn't take long for my idyllic repose to be interrupted by some crude fool pounding at the stall door. I could see his feet under the partition. He was no more handicapped than me, and he could just wait his turn like everyone else.
"Just a minute!" I shouted.
A few moments later, some joker about 6'6" was peeking over the partition at me. I looked up at him and he quickly turned away. Is there no respect for privacy these days?
When I was ready to leave, I washed my hands in my private sink, and made my way out through the wading pool in the middle of the room. An overworked custodian had arrived with a mop. He would have a long afternoon ahead of him trying to keep up with this mob.
I elbowed my way through the crowd, and just as I made it out the door, I noticed a young father (who was apparently traveling alone with his daughter) leading a bewildered-looking 4-year-old girl into the men's room that I had just escaped. This might get ugly, I thought to myself.
I could only hope that father and daughter had thick rubber-soled shoes, and that they were fortunate enough to find the corner stall with the private sink.
We can't help it. We try to be civilized, but it just doesn't come naturally to us. Case in point: the condition of the average men's public restroom.
While en route home this week from a trip to Florida, the call of nature compelled me to visit the men's facilities in terminal 3 of the Fort Lauderdale airport.
Apparently a jumbo-jet full of men afflicted with incontinence, who had just finished an in-flight watermelon-eating contest, landed at the terminal right before I got to the restroom.
Oh, the inhumanity!
Various areas of the floor around the urinals were puddled with what I could only assume was something I really didn't want being tracked around on the bottom of my shoes. Guys were lined up three deep for the urinals. The stalls were filled.
I was in a hurry. I had a plane to catch.
Then I spotted the one empty stall in the corner. It was the extra-large stall marked for handicapped use.
There were no handicapped men in sight. It seemed a shame to let this valuable bit of real estate go to waste when there was a roomful of men in such dire need.
I calculated that even if someone in a wheelchair was heading that direction, I would be in and out before they could get there. Worst case scenario: I would have to abandon the mission mid-stream, so to speak, if a handicapped man in desperate straits began pounding on the door.
There are moments in a man's life when he is forced to make a split-second decision, and move forward regardless of the consequences.
I had made up my mind. I was going in.
So it was that I found myself in a clean, spacious stall, with its own private sink. It was an oasis of tranquility amidst the sloshing bedlam in the rest of the men's room. I suddenly wished I had a newspaper and a cup of coffee, and did not have to rush out to catch a plane.
It didn't take long for my idyllic repose to be interrupted by some crude fool pounding at the stall door. I could see his feet under the partition. He was no more handicapped than me, and he could just wait his turn like everyone else.
"Just a minute!" I shouted.
A few moments later, some joker about 6'6" was peeking over the partition at me. I looked up at him and he quickly turned away. Is there no respect for privacy these days?
When I was ready to leave, I washed my hands in my private sink, and made my way out through the wading pool in the middle of the room. An overworked custodian had arrived with a mop. He would have a long afternoon ahead of him trying to keep up with this mob.
I elbowed my way through the crowd, and just as I made it out the door, I noticed a young father (who was apparently traveling alone with his daughter) leading a bewildered-looking 4-year-old girl into the men's room that I had just escaped. This might get ugly, I thought to myself.
I could only hope that father and daughter had thick rubber-soled shoes, and that they were fortunate enough to find the corner stall with the private sink.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Just Another Average American Tea Party Rally
Can we please put away the race card?Every time the media reports on a Tea Party event, the protesters involved are invariably cast as fringe right-wing racist rednecks. Yesterday I attended my third Tea Party rally, at the Indiana State Capitol building, and all I saw were peace-loving American patriots who were concerned for the future of our country.
Granted, there may be a few loony-tunes on the far-far fringe right who have some racial issues concerning our president. Such people will always be around, unfortunately. But to paint the Tea Party Movement as some kind of racist backlash against our first black president is a cheap political shot. More importantly, it is false.
There are millions of everyday Americans, people just like you and me, who may have never before been politically engaged. We went to work, raised our families, paid our taxes, and probably took for granted the liberty and prosperity we have enjoyed as American citizens -- that is, until the socialist wing of the Democratic Party took over this country in 2008.
We are riled up now -- and we have learned, the hard way, that our liberties cannot (and should not) be taken for granted any longer. This has nothing to do with the ethnicity of the man in the White House. It has everything to do with the agenda being advanced by a one-party government with a promiscuous lust for power, and a condescending disregard for our Constitution and the rule of law.
What alarms me, and millions of other freedom-loving Americans, is the explosive expansion of government control over our daily lives, and the reckless government spending that threatens to bankrupt us.
If the fact that the new "health care reform" legislation will require hiring 16,000 additional IRS agents doesn't disturb you, I would suggest you stay away from sharp objects and moving machinery, because you are seriously lacking in situational awareness.
For every problem that faces this country, the Democratic Party's solution is always the same: more government control, bigger government bureaucracies, and of course, higher taxation to pay for it all.Please don't dismiss this as partisan hyperbole. Can you give me a single example of anything Barack Obama has proposed that did NOT involve growing government and spending more money? I'm waiting...still waiting...ho hum...still waiting...that's what I thought...let's move on.
To be fair, the Republican Party has also failed us in many ways over the past decade. The best thing that can be said about too many of the Republican politicians is that they were the slightly lesser of two evils on election day.
For some reason, we never seem to learn the lessons of history. Without exception, throughout the ages, unrestrained government power has always brought corruption, oppression, and eventual tyranny.
The only way to safeguard our liberties, and our children's future, is to keep our government as small as possible -- and for us, as citizens, to live self-reliant lives without expecting government hand-outs. That's what adults do. It's called being a grown-up. It's also called being responsible for yourself, and it is a prerequisite to living as a free citizen in a democratic republic.
You will never be truly free if you are depending on someone else for your needs -- especially if that someone else is your government.
I have great hopes for this country, because I believe that the common sense of average Americans will rise to the challenges of these times. The masses are now awakened to the gravity of our nation's situation.
We now realize this country needs to change course. We know that we need to elect political leaders who believe in the common sense principles that made America the world's bastion of freedom and opportunity.
One of two things will happen over the next few years. We will get control of ourselves and shrink our government back down to it's proper dimensions -- OR -- we will succumb to the suffocating embrace of a socialist state that has become too big for us to restrain, and it will continue to grow until it completely consumes our liberties and our sustenance.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Nickled And Dimed And Pennied To Death
"If you drive a car, I'll tax the street.
If you try to sit, I'll tax your seat.
If it gets too cold, I'll tax the heat.
If you take a walk, I'll tax your feet."
-- from the song Taxman, by George Harrison
Since this is April 15th, it means I finally finished getting my taxes filed two days ago. I was early this year.
I hate to whine, but I could not help noticing that some genius at the Indiana Department of Revenue thought it would be a good idea to increase the sheets of paper required to file my state taxes from two to six. Way to go green!
My pet peeve for today, though, concerns Schedule 4 of the Indiana tax form, which deals with "Use tax on out-of-state purchases," which we will henceforth refer to as UTOOOSP.
Indiana's sales tax rate has, over time, crept its way up to 7%. Every retail merchant in Indiana works as an unpaid tax collector every time they sell you something. Whatever you purchase in Indiana, from an Indiana merchant, automatically kicks back 7% to the state.
This is quite a tidy sum of revenue, but apparently not enough. Not satisfied with skimming 7% off the top on your in-state purchases, Indiana also has UTOOOSP.
What gives Indiana the right to tax a transaction that takes place in another state? Good question! Nonetheless, that is the law. Welcome to the world of UTOOOSP.
On page 22 of the IT-40 instructions booklet it states:
But that just scratches the surface. We should all be doing a lot better job of tracking our UTOOOSP, lest we cause the state of Indiana to plummet into insolvency.
Remember that trip to Cincinnati last fall for Aunt Gertrude's 90th birthday party? Remember how you stopped for gas after you crossed the state line? And after picking up a couple of Cherry Cokes and some Moon Pies for the kids, you owed the clerk at the gas/convenience store $42.87? You think you are done with that transaction just because the clerk collected Ohio's 6.5% sales tax (5.5% state and 1.0% county) on that purchase?
Think again, you derelict scofflaw!
According to the IT-40 worksheet, you owe some UTOOOSP to Indiana. Since you only ponied up 6.5% to Ohio, Indiana wants that other 0.5%, and they want it now! By law, you are expected to save that receipt, calculate the difference between the Ohio tax and our Indiana tax, and remember to pay your UTOOOSP for what you spent on that trip to Aunt Gertrude's.
You will have spent all that time and energy to remember to pay Indiana an additional 21 cents in UTOOOSP.
If you travel much at all, you cannot help but be on the FBI's Most Wanted UTOOOSP list. Who in their right mind can keep track of such minutiae?
Just how much time does our state legislature think the average taxpayer has to waste? It's laws like UTOOOSP that give our otherwise esteemed Indiana General Assembly a bad reputation.
If you try to sit, I'll tax your seat.
If it gets too cold, I'll tax the heat.
If you take a walk, I'll tax your feet."
-- from the song Taxman, by George Harrison
Since this is April 15th, it means I finally finished getting my taxes filed two days ago. I was early this year.
I hate to whine, but I could not help noticing that some genius at the Indiana Department of Revenue thought it would be a good idea to increase the sheets of paper required to file my state taxes from two to six. Way to go green!
My pet peeve for today, though, concerns Schedule 4 of the Indiana tax form, which deals with "Use tax on out-of-state purchases," which we will henceforth refer to as UTOOOSP.
Indiana's sales tax rate has, over time, crept its way up to 7%. Every retail merchant in Indiana works as an unpaid tax collector every time they sell you something. Whatever you purchase in Indiana, from an Indiana merchant, automatically kicks back 7% to the state.
This is quite a tidy sum of revenue, but apparently not enough. Not satisfied with skimming 7% off the top on your in-state purchases, Indiana also has UTOOOSP.
What gives Indiana the right to tax a transaction that takes place in another state? Good question! Nonetheless, that is the law. Welcome to the world of UTOOOSP.
On page 22 of the IT-40 instructions booklet it states:
Schedule 4: Other TaxesThe accompanying worksheet is most helpful. It suggest some of the things you are invited to pay UTOOOSP on. Perhaps you bought a magazine subscription? Did you make any out-of-state mail order purchases? Have you purchased anything over the internet? Then you owe some UTOOOSP to the Indiana Department of Revenue.
Line 1 – Use tax on out-of-state purchases
If you have purchased items while you were outside Indiana, through the mail (for instance, by catalog or offer through the mail), through radio or television advertising and/or over the Internet, these purchases may be subject to Indiana sales and use tax, if sales tax was not paid at the time of purchase. This tax, called “use” tax, is figured at 7 percent.
When you make purchases from a company in Indiana, that company is responsible for collecting the Indiana sales tax from you. When youmake purchases from an out-of-state company, you are responsible for making sure the use tax is paid. Either the out-of-state company collects the tax from you, or you must pay the tax directly to the State of Indiana.
Complete the worksheet on page 23 to figure your tax. If you paid sales tax to the state where the item was originally purchased, you are allowed a credit against your Indiana use tax for an amount paid up to 7 percent.
But that just scratches the surface. We should all be doing a lot better job of tracking our UTOOOSP, lest we cause the state of Indiana to plummet into insolvency.
Remember that trip to Cincinnati last fall for Aunt Gertrude's 90th birthday party? Remember how you stopped for gas after you crossed the state line? And after picking up a couple of Cherry Cokes and some Moon Pies for the kids, you owed the clerk at the gas/convenience store $42.87? You think you are done with that transaction just because the clerk collected Ohio's 6.5% sales tax (5.5% state and 1.0% county) on that purchase?
Think again, you derelict scofflaw!
According to the IT-40 worksheet, you owe some UTOOOSP to Indiana. Since you only ponied up 6.5% to Ohio, Indiana wants that other 0.5%, and they want it now! By law, you are expected to save that receipt, calculate the difference between the Ohio tax and our Indiana tax, and remember to pay your UTOOOSP for what you spent on that trip to Aunt Gertrude's.
You will have spent all that time and energy to remember to pay Indiana an additional 21 cents in UTOOOSP.
If you travel much at all, you cannot help but be on the FBI's Most Wanted UTOOOSP list. Who in their right mind can keep track of such minutiae?
Just how much time does our state legislature think the average taxpayer has to waste? It's laws like UTOOOSP that give our otherwise esteemed Indiana General Assembly a bad reputation.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
How To Play The Hand You Are Dealt
This is one of the most amazing and inspiring life stories I have ever seen. This young man was born without arms or legs, yet he has traveled the world to reach out to hurting people. WATCH THE VIDEO
How Long Will We Diss Our Allies?
Michael Barone comments on President Obama's policy of alienating our friends while he reaches out to our enemies. READ MORE
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Grab Your Pitchforks - The Monster Lives!
Just like Dr. Frankenstein, President Barack Obama labored behind closed doors, night after long night, experimenting with how he could bring to life the creature that would ensure his legacy.
There were many setbacks along the way, but at long last, by shredding the Constitution and repudiating the will of the American people, Obamacare now lives.
America used to be a representative republic. We would elect a president, senators, and members of Congress, and they would represent us in Washington. By virtue of their desire to be re-elected, they would, for the most part, do at least a passable job of expressing the will of their constituents.
That was back in the old days, when we had government of the people, by the people, and for the people.
Now we are in the Obama era, and Chicago-style thug politics have come to Washington. Now it is government taking from the people and sticking it to the people. Political bribery and strong-arm tactics now decide the course of legislation. One congressman was even accosted in the House gymnasium shower room by a naked White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emmanuel. That is the Chicago way.
Could anyone over the age of 40, who has some historical perspective and memory of how our democratic institutions used to function, ever have imagined, before last Sunday, that a piece of legislation that was so loudly and bitterly opposed by two-thirds of the voters could become the law of the land?
The American people have fought against this bill for over a year. Public support for this government health-care takeover has steadily declined, especially in the past six months. We the people have spoken, loudly and clearly.
Even the voters in ultra-liberal Massachusetts elected a Republican, Scott Brown, to the Senate earlier this year because he promised to oppose Obamacare. The members of Congress know full well that we do not want this. So what was the response of our elected representatives to the will of "we the people"?
Basically, the Democrats in Congress have just flipped us the bird.
Call me crazy, but I doubt that this is the kind of democracy that Thomas Jefferson or James Madison had in mind. This is the trashing of the whole concept of majority rule. This is the will of the American people being overthrown by the secretive plotting of a small political elite.
This is a coup.
It is now clear that there is NOTHING that will stop the socialists in our Congress from trampling on our liberties. They do not intend to represent us. They intend to rule us.
We are no longer citizens in a free society. We are now subjects being dictated to by a government that does not care what we think.
So King Obama, despite the desires of his subjects, shoved and cajoled and threatened and wheeled and dealed until at last, in yet another long weekend marathon legislative session, he managed to ram through a government takeover of the American health care system. And just to rub salt in our wounds, he also took over the student loan program at the same time.
It's all in the fine print, you know -- and there is a LOT of fine print in the thousands of pages of this bill that no one has really had time to read. As Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House (and third in line for the Presidency) so eloquently put it recently, "We have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it."
Nancy Pelosi is the poster child for what is wrong with America in 2010. When asked a few months ago if the provisions in the health care proposals that required people to purchase insurance were constitutional, Speaker Pelsoi responded incredulously, "You're kidding, right? Let's have a serious question."
When the Speaker of the House does not consider the constitutionality of proposed legislation to be a serious question, the future of our republic is in serious danger. The powers that be no longer even pretend to care about the Constitution.
A lot of Americans got fooled in the last election by a smooth-talking snake-oil salesman who wanted to be president so he could "transform" America. Well, we've been transformed. Do you feel better now?
We need to be angry. We need to stay angry. We need to focus like a laser on taking back control of our country from the charlatans who sweet-talked us into voting for "hope and change" in 2008.
We have one chance to save this country, for ourselves and for our children. There is an election looming this November. (Unless, of course, King Obama can persuade Congress that elections are no longer necessary, since he has the country under such benevolent control.)
Our only hope is to replace the members of Congress who voted for this abomination, and elect conservative representatives who actually respect the rule of law, and believe in the ideals of our Constitution. If we allow this regime to stay in control after the way they have flipped us off, then democracy in America is lost forever.
If we do not stand up, loudly and forcefully, and repudiate this coup at the ballot box this November, I do not believe there will be anything in the future that can stop the socialists who control Washington from doing anything they desire. As long as these people are in power, our liberties are in constant jeopardy.
The fulfillment of the socialist dream for America is at hand. Unless we reverse course, soon we will all be truly equal: equally poor, equally powerless, and equally enslaved by our government.
There were many setbacks along the way, but at long last, by shredding the Constitution and repudiating the will of the American people, Obamacare now lives.
America used to be a representative republic. We would elect a president, senators, and members of Congress, and they would represent us in Washington. By virtue of their desire to be re-elected, they would, for the most part, do at least a passable job of expressing the will of their constituents.
That was back in the old days, when we had government of the people, by the people, and for the people.
Now we are in the Obama era, and Chicago-style thug politics have come to Washington. Now it is government taking from the people and sticking it to the people. Political bribery and strong-arm tactics now decide the course of legislation. One congressman was even accosted in the House gymnasium shower room by a naked White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emmanuel. That is the Chicago way.
Could anyone over the age of 40, who has some historical perspective and memory of how our democratic institutions used to function, ever have imagined, before last Sunday, that a piece of legislation that was so loudly and bitterly opposed by two-thirds of the voters could become the law of the land?
The American people have fought against this bill for over a year. Public support for this government health-care takeover has steadily declined, especially in the past six months. We the people have spoken, loudly and clearly.
Even the voters in ultra-liberal Massachusetts elected a Republican, Scott Brown, to the Senate earlier this year because he promised to oppose Obamacare. The members of Congress know full well that we do not want this. So what was the response of our elected representatives to the will of "we the people"?
Basically, the Democrats in Congress have just flipped us the bird.
Call me crazy, but I doubt that this is the kind of democracy that Thomas Jefferson or James Madison had in mind. This is the trashing of the whole concept of majority rule. This is the will of the American people being overthrown by the secretive plotting of a small political elite.
This is a coup.
It is now clear that there is NOTHING that will stop the socialists in our Congress from trampling on our liberties. They do not intend to represent us. They intend to rule us.
We are no longer citizens in a free society. We are now subjects being dictated to by a government that does not care what we think.
So King Obama, despite the desires of his subjects, shoved and cajoled and threatened and wheeled and dealed until at last, in yet another long weekend marathon legislative session, he managed to ram through a government takeover of the American health care system. And just to rub salt in our wounds, he also took over the student loan program at the same time.
It's all in the fine print, you know -- and there is a LOT of fine print in the thousands of pages of this bill that no one has really had time to read. As Nancy Pelosi, Speaker of the House (and third in line for the Presidency) so eloquently put it recently, "We have to pass the bill so that you can find out what is in it."
Nancy Pelosi is the poster child for what is wrong with America in 2010. When asked a few months ago if the provisions in the health care proposals that required people to purchase insurance were constitutional, Speaker Pelsoi responded incredulously, "You're kidding, right? Let's have a serious question."
When the Speaker of the House does not consider the constitutionality of proposed legislation to be a serious question, the future of our republic is in serious danger. The powers that be no longer even pretend to care about the Constitution.
A lot of Americans got fooled in the last election by a smooth-talking snake-oil salesman who wanted to be president so he could "transform" America. Well, we've been transformed. Do you feel better now?
We need to be angry. We need to stay angry. We need to focus like a laser on taking back control of our country from the charlatans who sweet-talked us into voting for "hope and change" in 2008.
We have one chance to save this country, for ourselves and for our children. There is an election looming this November. (Unless, of course, King Obama can persuade Congress that elections are no longer necessary, since he has the country under such benevolent control.)
Our only hope is to replace the members of Congress who voted for this abomination, and elect conservative representatives who actually respect the rule of law, and believe in the ideals of our Constitution. If we allow this regime to stay in control after the way they have flipped us off, then democracy in America is lost forever.
If we do not stand up, loudly and forcefully, and repudiate this coup at the ballot box this November, I do not believe there will be anything in the future that can stop the socialists who control Washington from doing anything they desire. As long as these people are in power, our liberties are in constant jeopardy.
The fulfillment of the socialist dream for America is at hand. Unless we reverse course, soon we will all be truly equal: equally poor, equally powerless, and equally enslaved by our government.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Pitching For America
Pat Buchanan takes an objective look at the brouhaha that erupted recently when Senator Bunning, Republican from Kentucky, had the integrity to insist that Congress adhere to the newly-passed "Pay-Go" budget rule. He was crucified in the press for his trouble.
"If we cannot pay for a bill that all 100 senators support," Senator Bunning asked, "how can we tell the American people with a straight face that we will ever pay for anything?" READ MORE
"If we cannot pay for a bill that all 100 senators support," Senator Bunning asked, "how can we tell the American people with a straight face that we will ever pay for anything?" READ MORE
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Obama Should Thank George Bush
As a public service to the millions of world wide readers of this blog, I will begin today to post occasional links to news and commentary that I deem worthy of your consideration. Hopefully you will agree. Today's link goes to an excellent editorial from the Washington Times. READ MORE
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Can Common Sense Survive A Lawsuit?
Indiana Democrats are at it again. They are still squawking about Indiana's Voter ID law.
Even after being defeated two years ago in a 6-3 decision from the United States Supreme Court, they just can't stop whining about having to play fair at election time. Now they are taking a different approach, trying to pick apart the law as violating the Indiana Constitution.
The League of Women Voters' latest attack on the law finally made it to the Indiana Supreme Court two weeks ago. It is anyone's guess how long the court will take to decide on the issue. The lawsuit alleges that the two exemptions from the photo ID rule -- for absentee ballots and residents of nursing homes -- violate the Indiana Constitution's "Equal Privileges and Immunities Clause."
In essence, the lawsuit feigns concern that it is unfair to the rest of us if Indiana makes an exception for grandma so she doesn't have to leave the nursing home to obtain a picture ID from the BMV.
Please, give me oxygen.
Let's put on our grown-up pants and consider this situation with a little common sense.
You have to show ID to get your food stamps. You have to show ID to buy cigarettes and alcohol. You have to show ID at the pharmacy, or to cash a check. It is not unreasonable for any government agency or private business to require valid identification in the course of a transaction.
If someone does not have a driver's license, and is not willing to make the nominal effort required to obtain their FREE state government ID, I can't help but conclude that they don't consider voting a high priority. And if they are that apathetic, they shouldn't be in a voting booth anyway.
Voting is the most important transaction any of us will ever make. The integrity of elections is crucial to maintaining our constitutional government. Elections have serious consequences. Just ask the people who voted for Barack Obama on a whim in the last election!
Nobody is denying anybody the right to vote. This is not a matter of discrimination, this is a matter of safeguarding the foundation of our republic -- free and fair elections. I am amazed that a Voter ID law wasn't passed years ago.
The tales of election fraud, especially in Democratic strongholds in northwestern Indiana, are legion. There have been instances of a precinct's total vote count exceeding the total number of voters registered in that precinct -- an especially amazing statistic when you consider that voter turnout normally averages below 50%.
Just as in other states, many of our deceased citizens have been known to cast ballots, so dedicated are they to their civic duties. Other election hi-jinks, such as homeless people being transported from precinct to precinct, their multiple votes having been bought with cigarettes, have been an open secret for years.
Politics can be a dirty business. The allure of power, and the money that comes with it, often bring out the worst in human nature. Voter fraud contaminates our political system, and steals from us the right to choose who will decide our future.
The only way to protect ourselves from election fraud is a strong Voter ID law. Without it, it is too easy for crooks to steal elections. If we want to keep the foxes out of the hen-house, we had better make sure that the foxes only get one vote apiece.
Call me crazy, but the fact that our state Democratic Party refuses to let this issue rest makes me wonder: Are Indiana Democrats just afraid that they can't win in an honest election?
Even after being defeated two years ago in a 6-3 decision from the United States Supreme Court, they just can't stop whining about having to play fair at election time. Now they are taking a different approach, trying to pick apart the law as violating the Indiana Constitution.
The League of Women Voters' latest attack on the law finally made it to the Indiana Supreme Court two weeks ago. It is anyone's guess how long the court will take to decide on the issue. The lawsuit alleges that the two exemptions from the photo ID rule -- for absentee ballots and residents of nursing homes -- violate the Indiana Constitution's "Equal Privileges and Immunities Clause."
In essence, the lawsuit feigns concern that it is unfair to the rest of us if Indiana makes an exception for grandma so she doesn't have to leave the nursing home to obtain a picture ID from the BMV.
Please, give me oxygen.
Let's put on our grown-up pants and consider this situation with a little common sense.
You have to show ID to get your food stamps. You have to show ID to buy cigarettes and alcohol. You have to show ID at the pharmacy, or to cash a check. It is not unreasonable for any government agency or private business to require valid identification in the course of a transaction.
If someone does not have a driver's license, and is not willing to make the nominal effort required to obtain their FREE state government ID, I can't help but conclude that they don't consider voting a high priority. And if they are that apathetic, they shouldn't be in a voting booth anyway.
Voting is the most important transaction any of us will ever make. The integrity of elections is crucial to maintaining our constitutional government. Elections have serious consequences. Just ask the people who voted for Barack Obama on a whim in the last election!
Nobody is denying anybody the right to vote. This is not a matter of discrimination, this is a matter of safeguarding the foundation of our republic -- free and fair elections. I am amazed that a Voter ID law wasn't passed years ago.
The tales of election fraud, especially in Democratic strongholds in northwestern Indiana, are legion. There have been instances of a precinct's total vote count exceeding the total number of voters registered in that precinct -- an especially amazing statistic when you consider that voter turnout normally averages below 50%.
Just as in other states, many of our deceased citizens have been known to cast ballots, so dedicated are they to their civic duties. Other election hi-jinks, such as homeless people being transported from precinct to precinct, their multiple votes having been bought with cigarettes, have been an open secret for years.
Politics can be a dirty business. The allure of power, and the money that comes with it, often bring out the worst in human nature. Voter fraud contaminates our political system, and steals from us the right to choose who will decide our future.
The only way to protect ourselves from election fraud is a strong Voter ID law. Without it, it is too easy for crooks to steal elections. If we want to keep the foxes out of the hen-house, we had better make sure that the foxes only get one vote apiece.
Call me crazy, but the fact that our state Democratic Party refuses to let this issue rest makes me wonder: Are Indiana Democrats just afraid that they can't win in an honest election?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Tales From The High Road
You learn something new every day.
I learned today that I should not drive on the interstate while under the influence of extra strength Vicodin. Like Clint Eastwood used to say, "A man's got to know his limitations."
Yesterday's visit to my friendly neighborhood oral surgeon left me with a painfully swollen jaw, so he provided me with a prescription for antibiotics and Vicodin. The Vicodin bottle instructed me to take one pill every three to four hours "as needed for pain."
Oh yeah, they were definitely needed. I was in a bad way. But thanks to modern chemistry, the throbbing faded away about 30 minutes after the first pill. Sitting around the house last night, I didn't realize just how loopy I really was. I felt confident that I could handle this medication without missing a day of work.
The fact that it took me 25 minutes this morning to make toast and coffee should have been a clue. But by the time I spent 30 minutes getting dressed, I had forgotten how long it took me to make breakfast.
Needless to say, I was late leaving for work. Then I realized I had another problem: It is so hard to drive when the road keeps weaving back and forth in front of you. I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I finally realized it was time to turn around and go home. How was I going to explain to my boss that I was just too high to make it into work today?
The final score: Vicodin 1, Dave 0.
When I finally got home, it felt wonderful to crash out on the couch for 3 or 4 hours. When I woke up, my jaw was throbbing again, and it was time for another pill. Now that I was home, I could medicate myself in safety. The worst thing that could happen would be falling off the couch.
All of this drug-induced haziness reminded me of my last stay in the hospital.
It was back in 1994, and I was in Saint Francis for heart surgery. The doctor performed an angioplasty procedure (you know, the "balloon surgery") and afterward, when I came to, I found myself strapped to a wooden board in a cold recovery room.
The nurse told me that I had to continue to lay very still, on my back, for several more hours so that the wound, where the surgeon had entered my Femoral artery with the catheter, would have time to clot and seal up. You might think laying still would be an easy thing, but it drives you crazy when you can't move around or stretch, and after a while your back really begins to ache and stiffen up.
No one is in a good mood after surgery anyway, and with the anesthesia wearing off, the aching back, and the stress and general discomfort of being violated, it can make a person a little cranky. Okay, I was more than a little cranky. I was downright whiny.
The nurse took pity on me after a while and asked if I wanted anything for the pain.
Well, duh!
"I'll take whatever you've got," I groaned.
What she had was morphine. It burned a little when she gave me the shot, but within 60 seconds I was skipping down the Licorice Trail towards the Gumdrop Mountains. My pain vanished, my heart-rate slowed, my stiff muscles relaxed, and my aching back turned into warm jello.
Before I knew it, I was jamming with Jerry Garcia and Jimi Hendrix in an impromptu rendition of Purple Haze. Janis Joplin joined in on vocals. Life was beautiful. I was the happiest camper in the hospital for the rest of the afternoon.
Now I totally understand why morphine is a controlled substance. A person could get hooked on something like that in no time. It would be a great drug to have around if it were not for all those pesky side-effects like brain damage, liver failure, addiction and the inability to function in the real world.
A few months later I was back in the hospital for a second angioplasty procedure. (1994 was not a good year in The Life and Times of Dave.) I'm always looking for a silver lining, so I had consoled myself with the knowledge that, after all the discomfort of heart surgery, I could once again spend the afternoon visiting Candyland.
However, I made a terrible mistake in the recovery room. Again I was laying on that board, in pain and discomfort, and again the attending nurse asked me if I wanted anything for the pain. Instead of just moaning and acting pitiful, I said, "Yeah, I'm ready for my morphine now."
She arched her eyebrow and looked at me suspiciously. "I'll see what I can do," she replied coolly. I have since wondered, did she think that I just faked a heart attack every few months so I could come back to the recovery room after surgery for my fix?
At any rate, a few minutes later she gave me a shot of something, but it sure wasn't morphine. For all I know, she just poked me with a toothpick hoping I would experience the placebo effect. No trip to Candyland for this hop-head today! Jimi and Jerry would have to jam without me.
Whatever she gave me knocked the edge off of my pain, but it certainly was a disappointment compared to the morphine that I could have had if I had just shut up and moaned a little more. Once again my grandpa was proven right: He always told me that I talked too much.
I learned today that I should not drive on the interstate while under the influence of extra strength Vicodin. Like Clint Eastwood used to say, "A man's got to know his limitations."
Yesterday's visit to my friendly neighborhood oral surgeon left me with a painfully swollen jaw, so he provided me with a prescription for antibiotics and Vicodin. The Vicodin bottle instructed me to take one pill every three to four hours "as needed for pain."
Oh yeah, they were definitely needed. I was in a bad way. But thanks to modern chemistry, the throbbing faded away about 30 minutes after the first pill. Sitting around the house last night, I didn't realize just how loopy I really was. I felt confident that I could handle this medication without missing a day of work.
The fact that it took me 25 minutes this morning to make toast and coffee should have been a clue. But by the time I spent 30 minutes getting dressed, I had forgotten how long it took me to make breakfast.
Needless to say, I was late leaving for work. Then I realized I had another problem: It is so hard to drive when the road keeps weaving back and forth in front of you. I'm not the sharpest crayon in the box, but I finally realized it was time to turn around and go home. How was I going to explain to my boss that I was just too high to make it into work today?
The final score: Vicodin 1, Dave 0.
When I finally got home, it felt wonderful to crash out on the couch for 3 or 4 hours. When I woke up, my jaw was throbbing again, and it was time for another pill. Now that I was home, I could medicate myself in safety. The worst thing that could happen would be falling off the couch.
All of this drug-induced haziness reminded me of my last stay in the hospital.
It was back in 1994, and I was in Saint Francis for heart surgery. The doctor performed an angioplasty procedure (you know, the "balloon surgery") and afterward, when I came to, I found myself strapped to a wooden board in a cold recovery room.
The nurse told me that I had to continue to lay very still, on my back, for several more hours so that the wound, where the surgeon had entered my Femoral artery with the catheter, would have time to clot and seal up. You might think laying still would be an easy thing, but it drives you crazy when you can't move around or stretch, and after a while your back really begins to ache and stiffen up.
No one is in a good mood after surgery anyway, and with the anesthesia wearing off, the aching back, and the stress and general discomfort of being violated, it can make a person a little cranky. Okay, I was more than a little cranky. I was downright whiny.
The nurse took pity on me after a while and asked if I wanted anything for the pain.
Well, duh!
"I'll take whatever you've got," I groaned.
What she had was morphine. It burned a little when she gave me the shot, but within 60 seconds I was skipping down the Licorice Trail towards the Gumdrop Mountains. My pain vanished, my heart-rate slowed, my stiff muscles relaxed, and my aching back turned into warm jello.
Before I knew it, I was jamming with Jerry Garcia and Jimi Hendrix in an impromptu rendition of Purple Haze. Janis Joplin joined in on vocals. Life was beautiful. I was the happiest camper in the hospital for the rest of the afternoon.
Now I totally understand why morphine is a controlled substance. A person could get hooked on something like that in no time. It would be a great drug to have around if it were not for all those pesky side-effects like brain damage, liver failure, addiction and the inability to function in the real world.
A few months later I was back in the hospital for a second angioplasty procedure. (1994 was not a good year in The Life and Times of Dave.) I'm always looking for a silver lining, so I had consoled myself with the knowledge that, after all the discomfort of heart surgery, I could once again spend the afternoon visiting Candyland.
However, I made a terrible mistake in the recovery room. Again I was laying on that board, in pain and discomfort, and again the attending nurse asked me if I wanted anything for the pain. Instead of just moaning and acting pitiful, I said, "Yeah, I'm ready for my morphine now."
She arched her eyebrow and looked at me suspiciously. "I'll see what I can do," she replied coolly. I have since wondered, did she think that I just faked a heart attack every few months so I could come back to the recovery room after surgery for my fix?
At any rate, a few minutes later she gave me a shot of something, but it sure wasn't morphine. For all I know, she just poked me with a toothpick hoping I would experience the placebo effect. No trip to Candyland for this hop-head today! Jimi and Jerry would have to jam without me.
Whatever she gave me knocked the edge off of my pain, but it certainly was a disappointment compared to the morphine that I could have had if I had just shut up and moaned a little more. Once again my grandpa was proven right: He always told me that I talked too much.
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