- So many people think spring is the season of love. For me, it is autumn. It's the perfect time to be with someone special.
- I dug out a James Ingram today before I hit the road for some errands. Good, good stuff. Soul touching. Amazing what music can bring out in you.
- Speaking of music, I came home with new Keith Urban and Allison Krauss CDs today. Can't wait to pop the plastic on those, but I promised myself Carole King while I clean house.
- For what it's worth, I feel like my soul will suffocate if I don't see mountains NOW. Maybe I can wait until tomorrow. But the mountains -- that's where my spirit sings and the depths of my being are touched like no other. How did I end up living two hours away from my heartland?
Saturday, October 11, 2008
Autumn in the air
Friday, October 10, 2008
Tonight....Let it be Lowenbrau
Didn't you just love that jingle? I don't drink beer, never have, and certainly the beer drinkers I know don't drink Lowenbrau. But I remember it from the 80s, that earthy voice singing,
- Here's to good friends,
- Tonight is kind of special.
- The beer we'll pour
- must say something more, somehow.
- So tonight (tonight),
- Tonight,
- Let it be Löwenbräu (let it be Löwenbräu).
- It's been so long.
- Hey, I'm glad to see ya.
- Raise your glass.
- Here's to health and happiness.
- So tonight (tonight),
- Let it be all the best.
- Ozzie Osbourne
- Heart
- Bryan Adams
- Reba McEntire
- Rod Stewart (twice)
- Elton John (twice)
- Paul McCartney (twice)
- Aerosmith
- The Eagles
- Earl Klugh (not a typical concert, but definitely worthy of a mention)
- Kenny Chesney (twice, including Keith Urban)
- Alabama
- Van Halen
- Eric Clapton
- Barry Manilow
- Boston
- The Bangles
- KISS
- Bruce Springsteen
- Robert Plant & Jimmy Page
- Mercy Me & Michael W. Smith
- Steven Curtis Chapman
- Billy Joel
- Billy Joel AND Elton John, together
- Jimmy Buffett
- Stevie Nicks
- Huey Lewis (free tickets; no, I would not have paid)
- Martina Navratilova vs. Chris Evert in a tennis match (I've never cared for tennis but did want to take advantage of that opportunity -- it was not a disappointment)
- The Boston Celtics with Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Danny Ainge, et al in 1989
- Being kissed by Richard Petty at an autograph signing event
Election Day 2008 & Other Miscellaneous Neuron-to-Dendrite Connections
Well, I guess I can go back to McDonald's now. We haven't eaten there since when, May? Wasn't really that much of a loss, honestly. The biggest way it affected us was on Sunday mornings, since we always at there just before church. We just exchanged it for Mrs. Winner's instead, but McD's is more convenient, so I guess our normal Sunday-morning routine can be re-established.
I went to vote today. Thought I was being brilliant, getting it out of the way early so I wouldn't have to a) stand in a long line on November 4th, or 2) get up too early to avoid standing in a long line on November 4th. I pulled into the parking lot at our county elections office and was stunned. There must have been 150 people in line in the parking lot! Amazing. I really didn't feel like staying, being sicky and all, but I did. I thought about the brave men throughout history who have given everything for this country, and I realized yes, I CAN stand out here for as long as it takes. From out of the car to back into the car was about an hour, so it wasn't horrible. That's probably the longest I've ever waited, though, so it was a good time for people watching. I find it fascinating to study people in election lines and see if I can figure out who they're voting for. Of course, this year it may be easier to break them into groups just by looking, but I'm sure there are some who would fool me either way. I saw Sonny of Sonny's Service Center. No, I don't now him, but he had his name on his coveralls. I feel pretty certain that a man who owns his own small business sees a lot of issues the same way I do.
And I have to admit I felt pretty good about things standing out there today. Come the evening of November 4th (or shortly thereafter, Lord willing), one group is going to be very happy and the other group is going to be very distraught. But, you know what? I have seen pictures and videos of "elections" in other countries where blood is spilled when people vote. There are nations that don't have the privilege of choosing a leader. There are cultures where a woman couldn't drive somewhere to vote. So, in light of all those things, I felt pretty good about it all. Our system isn't perfect and isn't necessarily beautiful, but it's ours and I'm proud to be an American.
OK, having waxed patriotic...I have to wonder -- why is it that the myriad unavoidable reports of voter registration fraud that I read are always associated with Democrats and liberals? Seriously. That is frustrating to me. This ACORN stuff is getting crazy.
And I guess the economic crunch is hitting everywhere. I stopped at Sears today to buy some new jeans for my girlie. I guess two years' worth of wear out of her last ones isn't bad. Anyway, the mall was practically deserted and there was ONE cash register staffed on the whole upper level. There were a few workers out on the floor, but I was in line for ten minutes before one felt compelled to come help us out.
Anyway, that experience led me, in a very circuitous manner, to think about a flair button on my Facebook account. It says, "SARCASM: The body's natural defense against stupid." Yes, I know, I'm Christian and lovey and tolerant of people's faults, but that doesn't mean people don't still say stupid things that make my teeth bleed. I bought three pairs of jeans and (gasp!) wrote a check. Of course I had to pull out my driver's license. The cashier looked at it for a minute, then asked, "Is this your ID?" I just stood there, looked at her, and smiled what was probably a ridiculously goofy grin as I contemplated...."No, I saw a woman in the parking lot who looked just like me, and I thought it would be a good idea to use her ID instead of mine, so I hit her over the head with a tire iron, swiped her ID out of her bag, and am using it to present a check that, oddly enough, also has her name on it." The next candidate for a response was, "Pretty good for PhotoShop & Contact paper, don't you think?" Instead, I corralled my decorum and replied a hum-drum, "Yes." And that was that. Here's your sign...
What else...oh, THANKS A LOT to a friend who got me hyped up to see "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and I realize there's not a copy to be had within a country mile of here. No, I don't know why I hadn't bought it already, but it's nary to be purchased or rented anywhere that I checked today, so I sit at home in a frustrated funk. It's okay, I still love ya, bud. :-)
"We thought you was a toad!"
I went to vote today. Thought I was being brilliant, getting it out of the way early so I wouldn't have to a) stand in a long line on November 4th, or 2) get up too early to avoid standing in a long line on November 4th. I pulled into the parking lot at our county elections office and was stunned. There must have been 150 people in line in the parking lot! Amazing. I really didn't feel like staying, being sicky and all, but I did. I thought about the brave men throughout history who have given everything for this country, and I realized yes, I CAN stand out here for as long as it takes. From out of the car to back into the car was about an hour, so it wasn't horrible. That's probably the longest I've ever waited, though, so it was a good time for people watching. I find it fascinating to study people in election lines and see if I can figure out who they're voting for. Of course, this year it may be easier to break them into groups just by looking, but I'm sure there are some who would fool me either way. I saw Sonny of Sonny's Service Center. No, I don't now him, but he had his name on his coveralls. I feel pretty certain that a man who owns his own small business sees a lot of issues the same way I do.
And I have to admit I felt pretty good about things standing out there today. Come the evening of November 4th (or shortly thereafter, Lord willing), one group is going to be very happy and the other group is going to be very distraught. But, you know what? I have seen pictures and videos of "elections" in other countries where blood is spilled when people vote. There are nations that don't have the privilege of choosing a leader. There are cultures where a woman couldn't drive somewhere to vote. So, in light of all those things, I felt pretty good about it all. Our system isn't perfect and isn't necessarily beautiful, but it's ours and I'm proud to be an American.
OK, having waxed patriotic...I have to wonder -- why is it that the myriad unavoidable reports of voter registration fraud that I read are always associated with Democrats and liberals? Seriously. That is frustrating to me. This ACORN stuff is getting crazy.
And I guess the economic crunch is hitting everywhere. I stopped at Sears today to buy some new jeans for my girlie. I guess two years' worth of wear out of her last ones isn't bad. Anyway, the mall was practically deserted and there was ONE cash register staffed on the whole upper level. There were a few workers out on the floor, but I was in line for ten minutes before one felt compelled to come help us out.
Anyway, that experience led me, in a very circuitous manner, to think about a flair button on my Facebook account. It says, "SARCASM: The body's natural defense against stupid." Yes, I know, I'm Christian and lovey and tolerant of people's faults, but that doesn't mean people don't still say stupid things that make my teeth bleed. I bought three pairs of jeans and (gasp!) wrote a check. Of course I had to pull out my driver's license. The cashier looked at it for a minute, then asked, "Is this your ID?" I just stood there, looked at her, and smiled what was probably a ridiculously goofy grin as I contemplated...."No, I saw a woman in the parking lot who looked just like me, and I thought it would be a good idea to use her ID instead of mine, so I hit her over the head with a tire iron, swiped her ID out of her bag, and am using it to present a check that, oddly enough, also has her name on it." The next candidate for a response was, "Pretty good for PhotoShop & Contact paper, don't you think?" Instead, I corralled my decorum and replied a hum-drum, "Yes." And that was that. Here's your sign...
What else...oh, THANKS A LOT to a friend who got me hyped up to see "O Brother, Where Art Thou?" and I realize there's not a copy to be had within a country mile of here. No, I don't know why I hadn't bought it already, but it's nary to be purchased or rented anywhere that I checked today, so I sit at home in a frustrated funk. It's okay, I still love ya, bud. :-)
"We thought you was a toad!"
Friday, August 01, 2008
Let's talk out of both sides of our mouth, shall we?
Ask anyone who halfway knows me, and they'll say that it's rare that I find it difficult to express myself. Yeah, I over-express myself sometimes. Sorry, my perfection gene failed somewhere along the line (I think it happened in a garden somewhere....). Yet, I keep hearing something that just drives the bile right up into my throat every time, and the word(s) to express my feelings elude me. Some words that have potential: Anger. Frustration. Disbelief. Outrage. Disgust. Bemusement.
So, what are the magic words that affect me so? Many wouldn't be surprised to hear that they are uttered by Barack Obama, but what might be surprising is that the words that rile me are the ones where he talks about Americans needing to come together: African Americans, Caucasians, Hispanics, Native Americans, Straight People, Gay People, etc. And the loony left crowd goes wild in the background, en masse in support of his loony pandering. First of all, he doesn't say WHAT we should come together over (thanks to Michael Medved for pointing that out). But what REALLY gets me is that Barack Hussein Obama and his myriad minions and myrmidons don't realize how very, insanely, incredibly hypocritical they are. Here, one touts and many show support for "coming together as Americans." Yet, this is the very group of people who want people grouped and labeled according to various characteristics WHEN IT IS CONVENIENT. Oh, let me talk about us all needing to come together for something (because it makes a lot of people clap, and that will make the news), but sometimes it's convenient for us to group Native Americans together (and let's throw in African-Americans for good measure, even though they're not relevant to the question), as in when we engage in that ever-so-critical dialogue about reparations. It's fine to separate American citizens into groups when it concerns hate crimes legislation aimed at protecting the "rights" of gays and lesbians, as opposed to the "rights" of people in general. It's fine to separate American citizens into groups when trying to get the "evil rich" to pay more of "their fair share" of taxes so that people who underperform (once referred to as those who didn't win life's lottery) can pay less.
I am totally stymied as to how the loony left Obama supporters can be so totally clueless about how totally hypocritical they are.
So, what are the magic words that affect me so? Many wouldn't be surprised to hear that they are uttered by Barack Obama, but what might be surprising is that the words that rile me are the ones where he talks about Americans needing to come together: African Americans, Caucasians, Hispanics, Native Americans, Straight People, Gay People, etc. And the loony left crowd goes wild in the background, en masse in support of his loony pandering. First of all, he doesn't say WHAT we should come together over (thanks to Michael Medved for pointing that out). But what REALLY gets me is that Barack Hussein Obama and his myriad minions and myrmidons don't realize how very, insanely, incredibly hypocritical they are. Here, one touts and many show support for "coming together as Americans." Yet, this is the very group of people who want people grouped and labeled according to various characteristics WHEN IT IS CONVENIENT. Oh, let me talk about us all needing to come together for something (because it makes a lot of people clap, and that will make the news), but sometimes it's convenient for us to group Native Americans together (and let's throw in African-Americans for good measure, even though they're not relevant to the question), as in when we engage in that ever-so-critical dialogue about reparations. It's fine to separate American citizens into groups when it concerns hate crimes legislation aimed at protecting the "rights" of gays and lesbians, as opposed to the "rights" of people in general. It's fine to separate American citizens into groups when trying to get the "evil rich" to pay more of "their fair share" of taxes so that people who underperform (once referred to as those who didn't win life's lottery) can pay less.
I am totally stymied as to how the loony left Obama supporters can be so totally clueless about how totally hypocritical they are.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Barack Obama: Passing the Hope Bong
Boy, I just wish I had thought of that. I don't know who this guy is on Larry King Live, but he has the greatest line, talking about Obama "passing his hope bong around the drum circle of young America." I don't know what those people ARE smoking, but aren't deep-breathing anything that gives them ecstasy-filled highs of common sense, that's for sure.
I don't think anyone should be allowed to vote until 1) they OWN their own home; 2) they have earned at least $150,000 (cumulatively, not in a year -- don't whine, if you have a brain and/or skills it won't take long), and/or 3) have passed a basic math proficiency and logic test.
Here is a trailer for the movie "Hype: The Obama Effect."
I don't think anyone should be allowed to vote until 1) they OWN their own home; 2) they have earned at least $150,000 (cumulatively, not in a year -- don't whine, if you have a brain and/or skills it won't take long), and/or 3) have passed a basic math proficiency and logic test.
Here is a trailer for the movie "Hype: The Obama Effect."
Monday, July 28, 2008
Things I like a lot/adore/love
- My church
- My Savior, who loves me "even though. . ."
- Senator Tom Coburn from Oklahoma
- Macaroni Grill, Houston's, Brusters, The Varsity
- Cheerwine
- Walt Disney World with my family
- Being a household free of credit cards and their associated stress
- Naps
- Smiles, hugs, kisses, giggles, silly jokes from my beautiful girl
- Not having a baby in the house
- Makeup
- philosophy's "Grace" fragrances
- Iced tea (yes, sweet; there is no other kind)
- These browned-butter cookies, ridiculously time-consuming as they are
- The sand and beautiful water at Destin, Florida
- Sentimentality
- When DH has three payday Fridays in a month (yay, August!)
- Laughing until I cry
- DD's picture with Santa every year
- Hope
- Psalm 121
- Finding my daughter's little treasures around the house when she's gone (visiting Poppa!)
- A faithful husband
- Freshly laundered sheets
- Watching Road Runner cartoons on YouTube
- A new box of crayons (Crayola only, please)
- The first Christmas card of the season
- Curling up with a good (or great) book
- Stimulating talk radio
- A new haircut
- Fresh, crisp mountain air
- Fall
- Winter
- Spring
- Hot chocolate with marshmallows
- Breaking out in 80s songs with vague references, much to the dismay of my hubby
- Looking at old family photos
- Celebrating my mother's victory over breast cancer each October (14 years this year!)
- Cold, clear mountain streams
- Catching a fiesty native rainbow trout (and putting him back)
- Christmas stockings
Things that get on my nerves
- Spiders that build webs on my kitchen window 24 hours after I washed it.
- Spiders, period.
- Congress using tax dollars to bail out people who made bad decisions.
- People who haven't read the owner's manual to their car to find out how to use a turn signal.
- Bumper stickers with profanity or crude messages.
- Billboards that advertise unsavory "businesses" along interstates
- Buying groceries for people who are most likely here illegally, with three small children and one on the way.
- People who think I want to hear their lousy excuse for music from four cars away.
- Not being acknowledged or thanked by a check-out clerk.
- Cell phones in restaurants, waiting rooms, movie theaters, and bathrooms.
- Summer in Atlanta.
- People who save places in long lines for other people who weren't already there.
- Talking in movie theaters.
- Litter.
- Cigarettes.
- Cigarette smoke.
- Liberal (il)logic.
- Bad spelling.
- Bad grammar.
- Bad punctuation.
- Texting lingo.
- People who can't, like, put together, like, a quasi-sensible sentence without, like, using the word "like", like, in multiples of five.
- Coffee breath.
- Men in tank tops in public.
- Out-there underwear.
- E-mails from perfect strangers who think I'm dumb enough to fall for their scams.
- The IRS.
- Moral relativism.
- Having a taste for something that's not as good as I expect it to be.
- Calling anyplace and getting an automatic voice system where English is an OPTION.
Friday, July 25, 2008
You go, girl...
Last night at dinner, the conversation turned (as it often does) to politics and current events. My 8-year-old daughter can pretty well hold her own in these conversations. She can contribute comments and ask some good questions. I don't remember what she said, but it prompted my husband to ask her, "I told you to never apologize for being three things -- what were they?" Quick as a wink, she named them: "Never apologize for being Christian, Republican, or southern." My heroine. :-)
What was that again?
Apologies in advance: I can't figure out how to download these videos to my hard drive so that I can then upload them and embed them here. You'll have to clicky!!
Do you remember those puzzles you did as a child, where there were two pictures side by side that, at first glance, looked alike? Your job was to look at them carefully to determine the subtle differences between them. I have another one for you, but this time in video form.
The news of Obama's saying that, after months of proven success and gains in Iraq, he STILL would not support the surge is old at this point. I heard the digs on the talk shows about how he muttered and stammered through his response (not really an answer), but I didn't hear the audio clip of the interview itself (with ABC's Terry Moran). When I got home and looked at the video on the ABC site, I thought, well, it's a stupid answer, but it's basically intelligible. Check it out for yourself:
http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=5421347
My husband was sitting beside me on the sofa and was eager for me to hear Obama's answer. After it played, he was indignant: "That is NOT the same as what the radio talk shows were playing all day!" We searched and finally found an unedited version on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBO5s8NUOxw&feature=related
Hmmm. Very different!! Is that merely editing that would normally be done to ready a video clip for the website of a major news corporation, or is it further evidence that the media wants to suck Obama's toes? I have my opinion...
Do you remember those puzzles you did as a child, where there were two pictures side by side that, at first glance, looked alike? Your job was to look at them carefully to determine the subtle differences between them. I have another one for you, but this time in video form.
The news of Obama's saying that, after months of proven success and gains in Iraq, he STILL would not support the surge is old at this point. I heard the digs on the talk shows about how he muttered and stammered through his response (not really an answer), but I didn't hear the audio clip of the interview itself (with ABC's Terry Moran). When I got home and looked at the video on the ABC site, I thought, well, it's a stupid answer, but it's basically intelligible. Check it out for yourself:
http://abcnews.go.com/video/playerIndex?id=5421347
My husband was sitting beside me on the sofa and was eager for me to hear Obama's answer. After it played, he was indignant: "That is NOT the same as what the radio talk shows were playing all day!" We searched and finally found an unedited version on YouTube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qBO5s8NUOxw&feature=related
Hmmm. Very different!! Is that merely editing that would normally be done to ready a video clip for the website of a major news corporation, or is it further evidence that the media wants to suck Obama's toes? I have my opinion...
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Toto, we're not in Disney World anymore
Eight trips to Walt Disney World in five years...and yesterday we went to Six Flags over Georgia. What were we thinking?? Well, DD and I got free tickets from school, so we only had to pay for one ticket, gas, and food (which is as expensive as WDW and not nearly as good). Now, we live less than an hour from Six Flags and seriously NEVER go. DH and I went about 5 years ago, just the two of us. I sat and waited for him to ride roller coasters most of the day. I don't do roller coasters. Well, I didn't....
I do have to say that Disney World has both spoiled me and done me a favor. The favor first...I have always been scared -- no, terrified -- of heights, and roller coasters were never in the picture for me. I had no desire at all to ever get on one, even "small" ones. When DH and I first took DD to Disney World, she was not quite 3, so there was very little that she could ride -- we spent most of our time in Fantasyland. But DD and I also waited for DH to ride Space Mountain. He offered to keep DD while I rode. NO WAY. I WILL NOT RIDE A ROLLER COASTER, especially not one in the dark.
The next year when we went, DH wanted us to ride Splash Mountain. He told me how much I'd love it, given that I have an old Uncle Remus book and grew up reading the stories since I was little. We read them to DD and we knew all the characters It sounded good...we walked up and I saw that 45-degree, 50-foot drop and NO, NO, NO I AM NOT GETTING ON THAT!! For heaven's sake, people are screaming going down that thing. NO!!
He finally talked me into it by reasoning that the ride is many minutes long with a beautiful story and the drop is over in a few seconds. I became convinced that I would love the ride. Long story short, yes, it is a BEAUTIFUL ride, and it was very meaningful to us. The first little drop spooked me. The second one scared me. When we started going up the hill for the big drop, I started screaming, wanted desperately to climb out. I yelled at him, "I'm going to beat the S*** out of you when we get off this thing!" Needless to say, he was laughing. Which didn't help. I was terrified out of my mind. We splashed down, got wet. I was okay -- ALIVE, BREATHING, CONSCIOUS, NOTHING WAS BROKEN. I said I would never get on THAT THING again. Let's see....in 7 visits since, I've ridden it probably 50+ times.
Over the course of much conniving and cajoling, I have by this time ridden -- and grown to love -- every ride at both Walt Disney World and Disneyland, including Tower of Terror, California Screaming, and my all-time favorites Expedition Everest and the much-too-short Rock 'n Roller Coaster. A friend of mine on a Disney message board convinced me: Disney will never hurt me! Lessons learned from that have carried forward so that I was able to ride the Scream Machine, Ninja, and Mindbender at Six Flags. The verdict? Scream Machine: not too scary, way too rough, jerky, and bumpy. HATED IT and couldn't wait to get off. Ninja: Smoother ride, but jerked my head from side to side into the not-very-well-padded headrest. My ears hurt. Nope, not for me. Mindbender: there we go! Smooth, easy, not too high, just right. Loved it!!
So, that is the favor that Disney World has done me in regard to simple amusement parks -- enabled me to enjoy them as more of a participant and less of an observer.
Part II, How Disney Has Spoiled Me, will come later.
I do have to say that Disney World has both spoiled me and done me a favor. The favor first...I have always been scared -- no, terrified -- of heights, and roller coasters were never in the picture for me. I had no desire at all to ever get on one, even "small" ones. When DH and I first took DD to Disney World, she was not quite 3, so there was very little that she could ride -- we spent most of our time in Fantasyland. But DD and I also waited for DH to ride Space Mountain. He offered to keep DD while I rode. NO WAY. I WILL NOT RIDE A ROLLER COASTER, especially not one in the dark.
The next year when we went, DH wanted us to ride Splash Mountain. He told me how much I'd love it, given that I have an old Uncle Remus book and grew up reading the stories since I was little. We read them to DD and we knew all the characters It sounded good...we walked up and I saw that 45-degree, 50-foot drop and NO, NO, NO I AM NOT GETTING ON THAT!! For heaven's sake, people are screaming going down that thing. NO!!
He finally talked me into it by reasoning that the ride is many minutes long with a beautiful story and the drop is over in a few seconds. I became convinced that I would love the ride. Long story short, yes, it is a BEAUTIFUL ride, and it was very meaningful to us. The first little drop spooked me. The second one scared me. When we started going up the hill for the big drop, I started screaming, wanted desperately to climb out. I yelled at him, "I'm going to beat the S*** out of you when we get off this thing!" Needless to say, he was laughing. Which didn't help. I was terrified out of my mind. We splashed down, got wet. I was okay -- ALIVE, BREATHING, CONSCIOUS, NOTHING WAS BROKEN. I said I would never get on THAT THING again. Let's see....in 7 visits since, I've ridden it probably 50+ times.
Over the course of much conniving and cajoling, I have by this time ridden -- and grown to love -- every ride at both Walt Disney World and Disneyland, including Tower of Terror, California Screaming, and my all-time favorites Expedition Everest and the much-too-short Rock 'n Roller Coaster. A friend of mine on a Disney message board convinced me: Disney will never hurt me! Lessons learned from that have carried forward so that I was able to ride the Scream Machine, Ninja, and Mindbender at Six Flags. The verdict? Scream Machine: not too scary, way too rough, jerky, and bumpy. HATED IT and couldn't wait to get off. Ninja: Smoother ride, but jerked my head from side to side into the not-very-well-padded headrest. My ears hurt. Nope, not for me. Mindbender: there we go! Smooth, easy, not too high, just right. Loved it!!
So, that is the favor that Disney World has done me in regard to simple amusement parks -- enabled me to enjoy them as more of a participant and less of an observer.
Part II, How Disney Has Spoiled Me, will come later.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Gimme some money...Gimme a break!!
Did two things today that cost more than they should: put gas in the car and bought groceries. My DHA-enriched, organic milk is now $4.50 a half gallon, but it may soon be cheaper to fill the car with milk than with gas. Looked longingly at the Blue Bell ice cream for more than $6 a carton. Could have gotten it but I couldn't make myself pick it up. I'm sure I'll be back for it later in the week, but I just couldn't do it today. Picked up a few things and begrudgingly forked over my debit card for $146 worth of not much, sighed, and headed out.
But what was awaiting me when I exited the store? A young man, probably 12 or so, asking for a "donation" because he was trying to raise money for a trip to Disney World. He asked the wrong person, because my immediate reaction was, "Get in line! So are we." I just told him I didn't have any cash. Then, when I got in the car, I had to tell my 8-year-old, "You know, I told him the first thing that came to my mind. I should have thought of something else to say, because I DID have cash. That was not a cause for me to lie, even though I wasn't going to give him anything."
Then, true conservative that she is, she quips,"He needs to get a job and earn his own money, and not try to take ours that you and Daddy work for!" At first I was both proud and amused, and we talked about that a bit. Then, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. First of all, who dumps a kid at a store to ask for handouts? And then, what happened to trying to EARN money to go somewhere? This may have been a good and legitimate cause -- he didn't offer and I didn't ask -- perhaps a band trip. But I just got myself worked up because some adult in his life thought it would be a good idea for him to stand in public and ask for handouts. What happened to offering to cut the grass, or wash a car, sweep the driveway, or perform any other odd jobs? How can it be beneath someone to do a menial chore for pay but not to ask total strangers for money???
This is just a symptom of the "gimme" mentality that is rotting our nation, contributing to class envy, and encouraging the government to be the nanny for everyone. My family is solidly middle class but we fall into the "evil rich" category according to the socialist liberals. No wonder they're angry; I don't want to give them what I've worked for. I want them to work for their own. If they could channel all their energy from being angry to being productive, they'd have more to show for it, including a sense of pride and responsibility. But that's too hard. Why work when you can stand in the shade with a cold drink and put your hand out? I'll tell you why: Because it's the right thing to do.
But what was awaiting me when I exited the store? A young man, probably 12 or so, asking for a "donation" because he was trying to raise money for a trip to Disney World. He asked the wrong person, because my immediate reaction was, "Get in line! So are we." I just told him I didn't have any cash. Then, when I got in the car, I had to tell my 8-year-old, "You know, I told him the first thing that came to my mind. I should have thought of something else to say, because I DID have cash. That was not a cause for me to lie, even though I wasn't going to give him anything."
Then, true conservative that she is, she quips,"He needs to get a job and earn his own money, and not try to take ours that you and Daddy work for!" At first I was both proud and amused, and we talked about that a bit. Then, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. First of all, who dumps a kid at a store to ask for handouts? And then, what happened to trying to EARN money to go somewhere? This may have been a good and legitimate cause -- he didn't offer and I didn't ask -- perhaps a band trip. But I just got myself worked up because some adult in his life thought it would be a good idea for him to stand in public and ask for handouts. What happened to offering to cut the grass, or wash a car, sweep the driveway, or perform any other odd jobs? How can it be beneath someone to do a menial chore for pay but not to ask total strangers for money???
This is just a symptom of the "gimme" mentality that is rotting our nation, contributing to class envy, and encouraging the government to be the nanny for everyone. My family is solidly middle class but we fall into the "evil rich" category according to the socialist liberals. No wonder they're angry; I don't want to give them what I've worked for. I want them to work for their own. If they could channel all their energy from being angry to being productive, they'd have more to show for it, including a sense of pride and responsibility. But that's too hard. Why work when you can stand in the shade with a cold drink and put your hand out? I'll tell you why: Because it's the right thing to do.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Butt Scratching and Bass Fishing
OK, I can honestly say I have NEVER gone to any website and typed "butt" in the search box!! But I was listening to one of my heroes, Dave Ramsey, today as he talked about this essay on his website. I was intrigued, to say the least. I am reproducing it in its entirety here. It can be found on his website here if you are interested in seeing it from its source. I, too, am sick of the whining that people who work hard need to subsidize the lifestyle choices and mistakes of others (mortgage assistance, anyone?). I have so much to say but it's late, so I'll just let Dave say it fabulously.
through my body.
Let me tell you why. You see, my friend who I saw working late—we’ll call him Henry—is a great guy. He’s what you want your son to grow up to be. He loves God, his country, his wife, and his kids. He didn’t have the academic advantage of attending a big-name university. Instead, he started installing heating and air systems as a grunt laborer after he graduated from high school. He was and is a very hard and diligent worker, and before long, the boss taught him the trade. But when he was 24, after 6 years of service, the company he was working for got into financial trouble and laid him off.
Henry still had his tools, so he bought an old pickup to haul around his materials and tools, and suddenly he was in business. He knew about heating and air-conditioning, but not about business, so he made a lot of mistakes. He persisted. He took accounting and management at the community college to learn about business. He started reading books on business, HVAC, marriage, kids, God, and anything else someone he respected recommended. Today he is one of the best-read men I know. Soon, because of his fabulous service and fair prices, he developed a great reputation, and his little business began to grow. Henry started 15 years ago, and now he has 17 employees whose families are fed because he does a great job. He is in church on Sunday and seldom misses his kids’ Little League games. Sometimes he has to miss a game because some poor soul has their AC go out in the 96-degree Tennessee summer heat, but Henry makes sure they are served. He is, by all standards, a good man. He is, by all standards, what makes America great.
Henry and I are friends, and so he asked me some financial questions last year. I learned in the process that his personal taxable income last year was $328,000. I smiled with pride for this 70-hour a week guy because he is living the dream.
At the stop light that evening, I also thought of another guy I know—and that is where the anger flash came from. We will call him John. While John does not have the same drive Henry has, I can say that he, too, is a good man.
John also graduated from high school and did not attend a big-name university. He went to work at a local factory 15 years ago. When 5:00pm comes around, John has probably already made it to his car in the parking lot. He comes in 5 minutes late, takes frequent breaks, and leaves 5 minutes early. However, to his credit, he is steady and works hard. Over the years, due to his steadiness and seniority, he has worked his way up to about $75,000 per year in that same factory. He seldom misses his kid’s ballgames, but most nights you will find him in front of the TV where he has become an expert on “American Idol,” “The Biggest Loser,” and who got thrown off the island. When he is not in front of the TV, he spends a LOT of time and money bass fishing on our local lake. He never works over 40 hours a week and hasn’t read a non-fiction book since high school. This is America, and there is nothing wrong with either set of choices.
Nothing wrong, that is, until the politicians and socialists get involved.
I have seen several elitist people on the talking-head channels make the statement lately that people making over $250,000 per year have a “moral imperative” to pay more in taxes to take care of the country’s problems. This is not only infuriating—it is economically, spiritually, and morally crazy!
Where in the world do these twits get off saying that Henry should be punished for his diligence? If you are John, where do you get off trying to take Henry’s hard-earned money away from him in the name of your misguided “fairness”? If you want to sit on the lake, drink beer, scratch your butt, and bass fish, that is perfectly fine with me. I am not against any of those activities and have engaged in some of them myself at one time or another. But you HAVE NO RIGHT to talk about “moral imperatives” about what other people have earned due to their diligence. That money is not yours! You want some money? Go earn some! Get up, leave the cave, kill something, and drag it home.
We are in a dangerous place in our country today. A segment of our population has decided that it is the government’s job to provide all of their protection, provision, and prosperity. This segment has figured out that government doesn’t have the money to give them everything they want, so somebody else has to pay for it. That is how the “politics of envy” was born. “Tax the rich” has become the mantra of the left, and this political season it has been falsely dubbed a “moral imperative.”
Ninety percent of America’s millionaires are first-generation rich. They are Henry. To tax them because you think it is a “moral imperative” is legalizing governmental theft from our brightest, most charitable, and most productive citizens.
If I can get a law passed that says you must surrender all your cars to the government because it is the “moral imperative” of anyone who owns cars to support the latest governmental program, that would be a violation of private property rights and simply morally wrong. This new “moral imperative” to redistribute wealth is no different from that. It’s the SAME THING!
Please, America, re-think the politics of envy! You are sowing the seeds of our destruction when you punish the Henrys of our culture.
If you think taxing the populace to support government programs is the best way—and I don’t—then at least tax every single person the same! There are very few Henrys out here who would squawk much about paying a set percentage of their income—if everyone else did, too. But this idea of some buttscratching bass fisherman saying government should tax his neighbor and not him—just because his neighbor has succeeded—must stop.
So the next time an elitist media talking-head starts telling you it is the moral imperative of our culture to tax my friend Henry, change the channel.
The next time you see someone wealthy who feels guilty and is preaching the politics of envy, change the channel.
The next time you see some celebrity who feels guilt over their income preaching socialism, change the channel.
And the next time you run into a misguided, butt-scratching bass fisherman who says the evil rich people in our culture should have their private property confiscated because that is fair… well just shake your head walk away—and make sure to vote against his candidate. If he and his type win, God help America.
© The Lampo Group, Inc. all rights reserved.
Butt Scratching and Bass Fishing
by Dave Ramsey
A couple of weeks ago, I worked late like I sometimes need to do to run my business. It was a nice Tennessee summer evening, and I was enjoying the drive home. About 7:30, as I pulled to a stop light a few blocks from my office, I noticed a light on in the corner office of a friend’s office building. Through the twilight I could make out my friend’s silhouette as he bent over his desk. Being a fellow entrepreneur, I knew what he was doing. He was pouring over some receivables. Some turkey hadn’t paid him, and he was trying to make his accounts balance so he would have the cash to make it another day. In that instant, I had a flashback to some of the ridiculous statements I’ve been hearing on the talking-head news channels and from some individuals during this political year. And I’ll be honest—I instantly felt the heat of anger flowby Dave Ramsey
through my body.
Let me tell you why. You see, my friend who I saw working late—we’ll call him Henry—is a great guy. He’s what you want your son to grow up to be. He loves God, his country, his wife, and his kids. He didn’t have the academic advantage of attending a big-name university. Instead, he started installing heating and air systems as a grunt laborer after he graduated from high school. He was and is a very hard and diligent worker, and before long, the boss taught him the trade. But when he was 24, after 6 years of service, the company he was working for got into financial trouble and laid him off.
Henry still had his tools, so he bought an old pickup to haul around his materials and tools, and suddenly he was in business. He knew about heating and air-conditioning, but not about business, so he made a lot of mistakes. He persisted. He took accounting and management at the community college to learn about business. He started reading books on business, HVAC, marriage, kids, God, and anything else someone he respected recommended. Today he is one of the best-read men I know. Soon, because of his fabulous service and fair prices, he developed a great reputation, and his little business began to grow. Henry started 15 years ago, and now he has 17 employees whose families are fed because he does a great job. He is in church on Sunday and seldom misses his kids’ Little League games. Sometimes he has to miss a game because some poor soul has their AC go out in the 96-degree Tennessee summer heat, but Henry makes sure they are served. He is, by all standards, a good man. He is, by all standards, what makes America great.
Henry and I are friends, and so he asked me some financial questions last year. I learned in the process that his personal taxable income last year was $328,000. I smiled with pride for this 70-hour a week guy because he is living the dream.
At the stop light that evening, I also thought of another guy I know—and that is where the anger flash came from. We will call him John. While John does not have the same drive Henry has, I can say that he, too, is a good man.
John also graduated from high school and did not attend a big-name university. He went to work at a local factory 15 years ago. When 5:00pm comes around, John has probably already made it to his car in the parking lot. He comes in 5 minutes late, takes frequent breaks, and leaves 5 minutes early. However, to his credit, he is steady and works hard. Over the years, due to his steadiness and seniority, he has worked his way up to about $75,000 per year in that same factory. He seldom misses his kid’s ballgames, but most nights you will find him in front of the TV where he has become an expert on “American Idol,” “The Biggest Loser,” and who got thrown off the island. When he is not in front of the TV, he spends a LOT of time and money bass fishing on our local lake. He never works over 40 hours a week and hasn’t read a non-fiction book since high school. This is America, and there is nothing wrong with either set of choices.
Nothing wrong, that is, until the politicians and socialists get involved.
I have seen several elitist people on the talking-head channels make the statement lately that people making over $250,000 per year have a “moral imperative” to pay more in taxes to take care of the country’s problems. This is not only infuriating—it is economically, spiritually, and morally crazy!
Where in the world do these twits get off saying that Henry should be punished for his diligence? If you are John, where do you get off trying to take Henry’s hard-earned money away from him in the name of your misguided “fairness”? If you want to sit on the lake, drink beer, scratch your butt, and bass fish, that is perfectly fine with me. I am not against any of those activities and have engaged in some of them myself at one time or another. But you HAVE NO RIGHT to talk about “moral imperatives” about what other people have earned due to their diligence. That money is not yours! You want some money? Go earn some! Get up, leave the cave, kill something, and drag it home.
We are in a dangerous place in our country today. A segment of our population has decided that it is the government’s job to provide all of their protection, provision, and prosperity. This segment has figured out that government doesn’t have the money to give them everything they want, so somebody else has to pay for it. That is how the “politics of envy” was born. “Tax the rich” has become the mantra of the left, and this political season it has been falsely dubbed a “moral imperative.”
Ninety percent of America’s millionaires are first-generation rich. They are Henry. To tax them because you think it is a “moral imperative” is legalizing governmental theft from our brightest, most charitable, and most productive citizens.
If I can get a law passed that says you must surrender all your cars to the government because it is the “moral imperative” of anyone who owns cars to support the latest governmental program, that would be a violation of private property rights and simply morally wrong. This new “moral imperative” to redistribute wealth is no different from that. It’s the SAME THING!
Please, America, re-think the politics of envy! You are sowing the seeds of our destruction when you punish the Henrys of our culture.
If you think taxing the populace to support government programs is the best way—and I don’t—then at least tax every single person the same! There are very few Henrys out here who would squawk much about paying a set percentage of their income—if everyone else did, too. But this idea of some buttscratching bass fisherman saying government should tax his neighbor and not him—just because his neighbor has succeeded—must stop.
So the next time an elitist media talking-head starts telling you it is the moral imperative of our culture to tax my friend Henry, change the channel.
The next time you see someone wealthy who feels guilty and is preaching the politics of envy, change the channel.
The next time you see some celebrity who feels guilt over their income preaching socialism, change the channel.
And the next time you run into a misguided, butt-scratching bass fisherman who says the evil rich people in our culture should have their private property confiscated because that is fair… well just shake your head walk away—and make sure to vote against his candidate. If he and his type win, God help America.
© The Lampo Group, Inc. all rights reserved.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Expelled: Common Sense and Courtesy Get the Boot
Several months ago I somehow learned about Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed. I was intrigued by the project and signed up for e-mail updates. I’ve been following the development and progress of this work ever since, and was so excited to get to see it this weekend. I don’t know much about Ben Stein, only that he’s quirky, so his involvement in it intrigued me even more. The documentary exposes how big science (primarily in the halls of academe) has suppressed the dialogue and inquiry that is so central to its very core by basically blackballing a great many very well-credentialed scientists who dare whisper the concept of intelligent design (ID).
CNS News review states:
"Expelled" calls attention to the plight of highly credentialed scholars who have been forced out of prestigious academic positions because they proposed Intelligent Design as a possible alternative to Charles Darwin's 150-year-old theories about the origins of life.
Instead of entertaining a debate on the merits of competing theories, the scientific establishment has moved to suppress the ID movement in a "systematic and ruthless" way at odds with America's founding principles, the film asserts.
Many are quick to dismiss ID as the delusion of religious fundamentalists, but a great many of the most well-known and well-credentialed scientists who espouse ID do so not because they believe in the Genesis account of creation by God but because they see the terrible failings of the Darwinian theory of evolution. Expelled blows the whistle on their literal expulsion from jobs, careers, funding, even from realms of credibility and respect.
My question is: What are the evolutionists afraid of? They won’t admit that evolution isn’t something that can be proven, but the fact that it can’t be proven (via the hallowed and requisite methods of scientific theory) is so obvious as to be trifling. The issue seems to boil down to more than trying to uphold an outdated “theory” – it truly seems as though the evolutionary scientists are bent on disallowing any room for an inkling of a concept of a Creator (i.e., God). When you have the renowned Richard Dawkins stating that the origin of life could have been designed/orchestrated by a higher being, but not from this planet, it seems pretty obvious that the argument is against God the creator and not the “fallacy” of ID outright. And another prominent scientist repeatedly explains the origins of life as developing as molecules mutating on the backs of crystals and is astounded that Ben Stein can’t grasp that as plausible. Science fiction, anyone?
Again, what are they afraid of? If they’re so sure that their THEORY is the correct one, why do they go to such great pains to kick out and discredit people who should rightly pose no threat? My answer? They know their days are numbered. When Darwin was alive, cells were thought to be primitive, merely a simple building block of something more complex, much as simple letters are the building blocks of the complex structures of words. But the technological advances in electron microscopy have given us an incredible view and understanding of the astonishing complexity of cells. (By the way, the film’s animation sequence of the inner workings of the cell is worth the price of admission.) This understanding has led to the concept of “irreducible complexity” to describe a unit so complex in its intricacies and the interrelatedness of its parts that to take away one of its parts would render the entire unit useless. But Darwinian evolution (macroevolution) requires just that: parts of a cell or organism to develop independently of one another, based on favorable circumstances, until a workable unit is created. (See http://answersingenesis.org/video/ondemand/ -- search for “The Seeing Eye” in video clips.)
The evolutionary scientists are quiet about the many holes in the theory of evolution, including the lack of observable scientific evidence and causation. Among other difficulties, Darwin acknowledges: “The abrupt manner in which whole groups of species suddenly appear in certain formations has been urged by several paleontologists . . . as a fatal objection to the belief in the transmutation of species. . . There is another and allied difficulty, which is much more serious. I allude to the manner in which species belonging to several of the main divisions of the animal kingdom suddenly appear in the lowest known fossiliferous rocks. . . . The case at present must remain inexplicable; and may be truly urged as a valid argument against the [evolutionary] views here entertained.” No observable cause and effect; no means to observe, replicate, or measure the process; no transitional forms; no new species.
In a nutshell, atheists have to believe in something when it comes to the origins of life. By default, it can’t be God, so anything that is NOT God will do. I do not have the faith required to believe that life originated from nothing. Lightning in a swamp? Are you kidding me? Because of a massive jolt of electricity, amino acids suddenly arranged themselves into 250 complex proteins that then randomly ordered themselves in a such a way as to become ALIVE? And what on earth in nature (which evolutionists find to be revered rather than its Creator) actually INCREASES in complexity in order over time if it is not directed? Nothing! Non-directed events result in chaos and decay, not order and growth, which is what Darwinian evolution requires. Why is it so far-fetched to believe that anything that exists in order must have order in its origin? Did these words miraculously appear on this page? Aliens, crystals, primordial ooze … apparently many people find these things preferable to believing that something with a mind of order and purpose designed life as we know it with order and purpose. After all, belief in that pretty much requires belief in God, and belief in God requires us to change ourselves. They rail against “religion” yet fail to see that they put their whole FAITH in Darwinism – THAT is the opiate of those masses. Yet, these same people profess to believe in freedom of thought and speech and academic pursuits? Common sense has, indeed, been expelled.
Frightening links from Darwinian theory to Margaret Sanger and Planned Parenthood and Hitler and ethnic "cleansing" are poignant and well documented and attributed.
One additional note that doesn’t fit in anywhere else but I feel compelled to share. Stein visited a museum of Darwin and a few long seconds were spent on a shot of a statue of Darwin. I couldn’t help but think that he looks sad, even in marble – almost as though he realizes now that he was wrong, but it’s too late for him now.
People who say it better than I:
http://www.icr.org/home/resources/resources_tracts_scientificcaseagainstevolution/
Monday, February 18, 2008
I have resigned myself to this
Or, "Why $18 Mascara is a Bargain." Some of you know that I am a mascara fiend. I have nice blue eyes to draw your attention, and very forgettable lashes to make that attention wander straight to the closest box of detergent, for no other reason than the detergent may be more memorable than my lashes. This has been a battle all my life. My very favorite mascara EVER was Lancome's Stylocils, with a ridiculously tiny brush in a ridiculously small barrel that made my lashes as long and happy as they have ever been. Last year I discovered Maxi-Frange by Bourjois and grew to love it immensely. Well, that's a lie -- it had me at "Goodbye, $18." Funny, because I've never been a fan of primers. I've never found one that really did what I thought it should do (as in, deliver what it promises). But the primer on Maxi-Frange worked really well -- lengthened and volumized without clumping, and, what's this? A sassy little upturn on the end, without the benefit of a pinched eyelid? Yes, it gave my lashes a little curl! Well, I used it to the end and just couldn't bring myself to buy another tube of it. I don't know why. I work. But I just didn't like the idea of it, I suppose.
But now the ugly truth comes out. Since this past fall, I have bought probably no fewer than TEN new mascaras, all costing around $8-10. Some of them didn't get used more than once before they got tossed. Yes, I know you can return some cosmetics at some stores, but honestly, as often as I would be returning mascara, they'd have me on the blacklist before you could say "smudge." So, let's do some math here. Let's say that those mascaras cost $9 each, for average's sake, times 10 purchases (probably conservative). Hmmmm. Do you see, now, why $18 spent every six months is actually SAVING money, in this case?
I splurged -- wait, no, I SAVED!! Right? I SAVED today on a tube of Bourjois Coup de Theatre mascara that I hope I will love as much as the Maxi-Frange. (The Maxi-Frange is designed more for volume, the Coup de Theatre focuses on length, which is my main concern.)
But if I must be known for something, I am not vain enough to want it to be my lashes. I would want it to be for this: "Then your fame went forth among the nations on account of your beauty, for it was perfect because of My splendor which I bestowed on you," declares the Lord GOD. -- Ezekiel 16:14
But now the ugly truth comes out. Since this past fall, I have bought probably no fewer than TEN new mascaras, all costing around $8-10. Some of them didn't get used more than once before they got tossed. Yes, I know you can return some cosmetics at some stores, but honestly, as often as I would be returning mascara, they'd have me on the blacklist before you could say "smudge." So, let's do some math here. Let's say that those mascaras cost $9 each, for average's sake, times 10 purchases (probably conservative). Hmmmm. Do you see, now, why $18 spent every six months is actually SAVING money, in this case?
I splurged -- wait, no, I SAVED!! Right? I SAVED today on a tube of Bourjois Coup de Theatre mascara that I hope I will love as much as the Maxi-Frange. (The Maxi-Frange is designed more for volume, the Coup de Theatre focuses on length, which is my main concern.)
But if I must be known for something, I am not vain enough to want it to be my lashes. I would want it to be for this: "Then your fame went forth among the nations on account of your beauty, for it was perfect because of My splendor which I bestowed on you," declares the Lord GOD. -- Ezekiel 16:14
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Captured by the King
People who are not professing Christians often dismiss God as a cosmic chess player. They think – or at least they think that WE think – He sits up in the sky, looking down over us, moving us here and there to suit His whim. We acknowledge, admit, welcome, and invite His divine intervention, for certain. But we never feel like His pawns. A God who can create space and time in a breath, who can create a miraculously unique human being from two tiny cells, does not need us in order to carry out His design for history. We are here because He longs for our company. What of the angels? He has legions of angels to keep Him company. But, oh! They are not made in His image, as we are. He called us forth and He has a plan for us. Oh, wow, does He have a plan for us! But He knows that forced love, forced lives, neither satisfy the one who loves nor glorify neither the one who is loved. He gave us a choice, gives us a choice every day, every moment, every thought. I think of God in no way like a cosmic chess player, but like a loving parent who has painstakingly and thoughtfully planned a most delightful treasure hunt for a child of immeasurable value and worth. The course is mapped, the treasures are hidden, awaiting discovery if…If the child follows the directions. If the child wants to play. If the child stays focused and doesn’t go skipping off, gleefully oblivious, into directions unplanned. But God – oh, the God Who created and loves us – is the doting parent who will guide even the most distracted child back onto the path toward treasure if...If we trust, if we choose, if we seek, we can be captured by the King.
Brian Doerksen – “Come, Now Is The Time To Worship”
One day ev'ry tongue will confess You are God
One day ev'ry knee will bow
Still the greatest treause remains for those,
Who gladly choose you now
p.s. -- That God you think about, sitting up there, as you scoff that I'm weak because I depend on Him? He's strong enough to move you wherever He wants you. He loves you enough to let you choose to be moved.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
You Give and Take Away
And still I choose to say, God, blessed be Your Name. God is good because of Who He is, and I praise Him through tears of loss of a beautiful friend, a beloved wife and mother. I love you, Kim.
Blessed Be Your Name
Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name
Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise
And when the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
(Matt and Beth Redman)
Blessed Be Your Name
Blessed be Your name in the land that is plentiful
Where Your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be your name
Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise
And when the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name when the sun's shining down on me
When the world's all as it should be
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name on the road marked with suffering
Though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord, blessed be Your name
(Matt and Beth Redman)
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Kenosis
In church and Bible study, "kenosis" refers to the "emptying" of Christ in Philippians 2:7. Wow, I had no idea the concept was so complex (that's Greek for ya); it seems so simple. Anyway, after having scanned essays about it, I realize I didn't fully understand or appreciate its implications. It's a whole study unto itself.
Of course, I just deleted MY WHOLE POST with a single, misplaced stroke of the keys. I thought it was Satan at work but what he meant for evil, I can turn to God's glory. Yes, it really works!! I'll spare the diatribe and just say this:
The emptier I get of myself and trappings of "me"-ism, the more I am filled up with God. We have less disposable income right now than we have had in the last several years (or maybe of our entire marriage), yet I am more thankful. My wants are vastly fewer. My contentment and gratitude are at a near-record high. As I go out, God comes in. As I decrease, He increases. And the beautiful thing is, it's happening in my husband as well. It may be sheer desperation on his part, I don't know, but if it takes depletion of our earthly goods to bring about a deeper and richer faith in God for my husband, I have nothing but praise for the hand and works of our mighty God. My husband, daughter, and I are beloved children of the Most High God, and nothing satisfies more than a deep and abiding knowledge of that most imporant truth.
Hey, did you know that you are His beloved child, too?
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God"Philippians 4:6
Of course, I just deleted MY WHOLE POST with a single, misplaced stroke of the keys. I thought it was Satan at work but what he meant for evil, I can turn to God's glory. Yes, it really works!! I'll spare the diatribe and just say this:
The emptier I get of myself and trappings of "me"-ism, the more I am filled up with God. We have less disposable income right now than we have had in the last several years (or maybe of our entire marriage), yet I am more thankful. My wants are vastly fewer. My contentment and gratitude are at a near-record high. As I go out, God comes in. As I decrease, He increases. And the beautiful thing is, it's happening in my husband as well. It may be sheer desperation on his part, I don't know, but if it takes depletion of our earthly goods to bring about a deeper and richer faith in God for my husband, I have nothing but praise for the hand and works of our mighty God. My husband, daughter, and I are beloved children of the Most High God, and nothing satisfies more than a deep and abiding knowledge of that most imporant truth.
Hey, did you know that you are His beloved child, too?
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God"Philippians 4:6
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Okay, not so much, really
Of course I wasn't BORN Baptist. But here, in the buckle of the Bible belt that I am blessed to call home, people nod and chuckle knowingly when you say that. I really don't hear the same allusions made to being "born Methodist" or "born Catholic." Hmm. Wonder why. I guess being "born Baptist" explains a lot. Haha.
What I mean by that -- and what most of us mean by that -- is that my family, on both sides, was Baptist as far back as anyone can reckon. My earliest memories of my Christian heritage begin with my grandparents on both sides. My mother's father was a Baptist preacher. His wife, who is but a single angel's breath short of sainthood in my eyes, was the ultimate picture of a preacher's wife. She grew flowers and made the arrangements for the tiny little churches. She cooked meals and visited the sick. She taught Sunday school, VBS, Sunbeams. What sweet, sweet memories for me. I still have some of the little flannel board kits she used in those classes, and some hand-made activities she created back in the day before the slickly packaged kits churches use today. Precious.
My father's parents weren't involved in that way but were of the "whenever the doors were opened" ilk. They were involved more in fundraising, donating, etc. In their small church were a stained glass window and a pew both bearing a brass plate engraved with our family name to represent donations given for the building of the church. Whenever I went to church with them, I couldn't understand why we didn't sit in OUR bench. How can you have a bench with your name on it and NOT SIT THERE???? Well, my grandmother had HER PLACE in church. Everyone had THEIR PLACES in church. (Now I know what that's like. We were not in Sunday service most of this past summer, and when we went back in the fall we parked ourselves back in OUR PLACE. If anyone else had gotten comfortable there over the summer, they have since relocated with nary a sideways glance. And hubby and I are weird for Baptists -- out of some 50-60 rows of pews three wide, we sit on the right hand side, fourth pew from the FRONT, middle of the pew, me on the left and hubby on the right. Nerdy Baptists, I guess -- like we always like to sit up front in classes.)
Well, as you can see, both sets of grandparents were greatly involved in church and my parents, as children, were necessarily involved as well. My mother was forced to play the piano in church, which she hated. I think that when my parents both got to be teens (they hadn't met at this point) they complained enough to be relieved of mandatory church attendance. And that they liked. Church activities had become a chore and a drudgery for them.
Preview to the next installment: The sixties were not kind to families. The sixties were not kind to faith. The sixties, I believe, were pretty much single-handedly responsible for much of the family breakdown and societal mayhem with which we wrestle today. Women's lib? Pffft. No friend of mine, let me tell you. Also, let me tell you how NOT to raise a child: "Oh, we were so unhappy with organized religion; let's just let her find her own way." Pardon my French but "finding my own day" literally damn near got me killed, certainly spiritually if not practically physically. I am NOT passing that legacy to my child.
Proverbs 22:6 -- Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it.
What I mean by that -- and what most of us mean by that -- is that my family, on both sides, was Baptist as far back as anyone can reckon. My earliest memories of my Christian heritage begin with my grandparents on both sides. My mother's father was a Baptist preacher. His wife, who is but a single angel's breath short of sainthood in my eyes, was the ultimate picture of a preacher's wife. She grew flowers and made the arrangements for the tiny little churches. She cooked meals and visited the sick. She taught Sunday school, VBS, Sunbeams. What sweet, sweet memories for me. I still have some of the little flannel board kits she used in those classes, and some hand-made activities she created back in the day before the slickly packaged kits churches use today. Precious.
My father's parents weren't involved in that way but were of the "whenever the doors were opened" ilk. They were involved more in fundraising, donating, etc. In their small church were a stained glass window and a pew both bearing a brass plate engraved with our family name to represent donations given for the building of the church. Whenever I went to church with them, I couldn't understand why we didn't sit in OUR bench. How can you have a bench with your name on it and NOT SIT THERE???? Well, my grandmother had HER PLACE in church. Everyone had THEIR PLACES in church. (Now I know what that's like. We were not in Sunday service most of this past summer, and when we went back in the fall we parked ourselves back in OUR PLACE. If anyone else had gotten comfortable there over the summer, they have since relocated with nary a sideways glance. And hubby and I are weird for Baptists -- out of some 50-60 rows of pews three wide, we sit on the right hand side, fourth pew from the FRONT, middle of the pew, me on the left and hubby on the right. Nerdy Baptists, I guess -- like we always like to sit up front in classes.)
Well, as you can see, both sets of grandparents were greatly involved in church and my parents, as children, were necessarily involved as well. My mother was forced to play the piano in church, which she hated. I think that when my parents both got to be teens (they hadn't met at this point) they complained enough to be relieved of mandatory church attendance. And that they liked. Church activities had become a chore and a drudgery for them.
Preview to the next installment: The sixties were not kind to families. The sixties were not kind to faith. The sixties, I believe, were pretty much single-handedly responsible for much of the family breakdown and societal mayhem with which we wrestle today. Women's lib? Pffft. No friend of mine, let me tell you. Also, let me tell you how NOT to raise a child: "Oh, we were so unhappy with organized religion; let's just let her find her own way." Pardon my French but "finding my own day" literally damn near got me killed, certainly spiritually if not practically physically. I am NOT passing that legacy to my child.
Proverbs 22:6 -- Train up a child in the way he should go, Even when he is old he will not depart from it.
Monday, October 15, 2007
I Was Born a Baptist
Let me digress to say, "Really?" Over three months since my last entry? Gee, school must have started back in the meantime. Life is a blur.
I'm feeling compelled to write something here that will necessarily arrive in installments. I'm actually preparing for something I have to do in a few weeks. At school, every morning, the teachers meet for prayer/devotions. Thursdays are always teacher-led devotions, and this year we were given a theme: our testimony. I am actually looking forward to doing this. My day is about a month away and I have to start now, sorting out my thoughts. There is so much I want to say, but I need to see it all written down so I can prioritize. I mean, I'll only have twenty minutes. In a class that my husband and I used to teach for new Christians, we instructed the participants to develop an abridged version of their Christian testimony, short enough to give while crossing the street, so as to be able to tell their story succinctly. But me? Ha.
I do know how I'll start out. It's the same way I intend to start out here. Many who haven't known me for a long time probably assume, based on my zealousness regarding some moral and social issues, that I was born and raised in a Christian family. I truly was not. My story is one of coming to a saving relationship with Christ at a relatively late age and of the many abrupt, distinct changes that decision brought to my life (all good, by the way).
I have previously been envious of those who can claim to have been born to devoutly Christian parents, who were raised in church and with a knowledge of God and His Word, and all the other beautiful blessings that go with that heritage. I have recently, however, come to appreciate the unique perspective that my own delayed salvation has brought me. This is in no way to say that I wish this experience for anyone, for we never know when Jesus will return to settle the score once and for all.
1 Thessalonians 5:1-5
1 Now as to the times and the epochs, brethren, you have no need of anything to be written to you. 2 For you yourselves know full well that the day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night. 3 While they are saying, "Peace and safety!" then destruction will come upon them suddenly like labor pains upon a woman with child, and they will not escape. 4 But you, brethren, are not in darkness, that the day would overtake you like a thief; 5 for you are all sons of light and sons of day.
But, my experience regarding my late-coming relationship with Christ just cements the fact that I am blessed and protected by God and I always have been. This has given me, I think, a very different perspective on grace and God's faithfulness than many who knew Him from an early age. Oh, how I do wish I would have made a decision for Him when I was young, but He knew all along that I would be His. He even knew how I would fight Him along the way, and that makes His grace that much more precious. He did not give up on me, even when I gave up on Him. I know I do not deserve to dwell in His presence, but He created me out of a desire to be with me and He pursued me relentlessly for 33 years to have that relationship. I was caught, blessedly caught, and in being caught I was set free.
2 Peter 3:9-10
9 The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.
Grace. Grace. Amazing, sweet, flowing, abundant grace.
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.
I'm feeling compelled to write something here that will necessarily arrive in installments. I'm actually preparing for something I have to do in a few weeks. At school, every morning, the teachers meet for prayer/devotions. Thursdays are always teacher-led devotions, and this year we were given a theme: our testimony. I am actually looking forward to doing this. My day is about a month away and I have to start now, sorting out my thoughts. There is so much I want to say, but I need to see it all written down so I can prioritize. I mean, I'll only have twenty minutes. In a class that my husband and I used to teach for new Christians, we instructed the participants to develop an abridged version of their Christian testimony, short enough to give while crossing the street, so as to be able to tell their story succinctly. But me? Ha.
I do know how I'll start out. It's the same way I intend to start out here. Many who haven't known me for a long time probably assume, based on my zealousness regarding some moral and social issues, that I was born and raised in a Christian family. I truly was not. My story is one of coming to a saving relationship with Christ at a relatively late age and of the many abrupt, distinct changes that decision brought to my life (all good, by the way).
I have previously been envious of those who can claim to have been born to devoutly Christian parents, who were raised in church and with a knowledge of God and His Word, and all the other beautiful blessings that go with that heritage. I have recently, however, come to appreciate the unique perspective that my own delayed salvation has brought me. This is in no way to say that I wish this experience for anyone, for we never know when Jesus will return to settle the score once and for all.
1 Thessalonians 5:1-5
1 Now as to the times and the epochs, brethren, you have no need of anything to be written to you. 2 For you yourselves know full well that the day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night. 3 While they are saying, "Peace and safety!" then destruction will come upon them suddenly like labor pains upon a woman with child, and they will not escape. 4 But you, brethren, are not in darkness, that the day would overtake you like a thief; 5 for you are all sons of light and sons of day.
But, my experience regarding my late-coming relationship with Christ just cements the fact that I am blessed and protected by God and I always have been. This has given me, I think, a very different perspective on grace and God's faithfulness than many who knew Him from an early age. Oh, how I do wish I would have made a decision for Him when I was young, but He knew all along that I would be His. He even knew how I would fight Him along the way, and that makes His grace that much more precious. He did not give up on me, even when I gave up on Him. I know I do not deserve to dwell in His presence, but He created me out of a desire to be with me and He pursued me relentlessly for 33 years to have that relationship. I was caught, blessedly caught, and in being caught I was set free.
2 Peter 3:9-10
9 The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance.
Grace. Grace. Amazing, sweet, flowing, abundant grace.
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that will pardon and cleanse within;
Grace, grace, God’s grace,
Grace that is greater than all our sin.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
231 years old....wow!!
Happy Birthday, America!! We went this evening to our now-annual outing to the 4th of July fireworks at Lenox Square. We used to not want to bother with the crowds but we've done it the last couple of years and it's gone pretty well. Since this does take place at not just any mall, but at a mall in Buckhead, one of the most perenially congested areas of Atlanta, necessity dictates early arrival. We parked at Phipps Plaza, across the street from Lenox, as we usually do. We were able to score a great parking spot on the top level close to the mall entrance and close to the corner where we would later cross to Lenox. This great spot allowed us to be in the car and out on the highway within 20 minutes of the fireworks finale.
We arrived at 3:30 with fireworks to begin at 9:40, but thankfully we had a plan that kept us from having to a) wander through stores whose wealth detectors know the second we walk through the door that we don't belong, or 2) camp in the parking lot for 6 hours. We went to the theater and saw Ratatouille....for the second time in a week. If anything, we all (DH, 7 1/2 yo DD, and I) all enjoyed it more the second time. I was able to spend more time taking in all the peripheral details in the animation -- the bread that Remy was about to eat before he was interrupted by Gusteau looked as real as anything I've ever held in my own hand, with big crevices and a beautiful true-life translucence. The scratches and patina on the copper cookware, the unevenness of the floor in the old restaurant, the scratches on the floor under the furniture legs are just a few more examples of attention to true-life detail rendered splendidly in animation. The audience in this showing actually consisted more of adults than children, and to hear them engage in and enjoy the show really heightened the experience for all of us. It was great fun and the release of this movie on DVD may finally push me to buy a better television.
We made a quick stop at Chick-Fil-A in the food court for a bite to eat and we headed across the street at about 6:30. The whole parking lot at Lenox was closed down by this time so we had ample space to set up our three folding chairs. Then DH and DD set off to garner her a balloon. What is up with kids and balloons these days? Why is a free, cheapo balloon still a big deal? They get them everywhere now, restaurants, dentist, bookstores, you name it. I think by the time I was her age I might have ever had 5 balloons, and helium? Forget it! Anyway, off they went. Now, last year when they made this trek, they stopped at a booth for some charity where they donated a dollar and DD got to spin a prize wheel. She came back with a DVD set of Season 1 of Boston Legal, so she was truly my hero. I was hoping she could snag Season 2 for me this time, or maybe a season of The Office. Alas, they returned with one balloon, two paper fans, two giveaway do-rags and one stadium cup, all promoting the local news show that was covering the festivities.
A few bands were playing -- one country, one southern rock, one more soul style. All were pretty good but I can't for the life of me figure out why, at such a family-oriented event, they sing songs with profanity? I mean, mostly d*** and h***, but one instance of b***h. Why??
At 8 pm the live television coverage began, so a military band played the National Anthem. Six words, people: STAND UP. TAKE OFF YOUR CAPS.
After the anthem, three Blackhawk helicopters did a flyover and I got the requisite lump in my throat. Typically they have jets fly over but I always choke up at whatever show of military presence there is. I am so grateful to our dedicated men and women in uniform and their families. Off subject, but the most impressive flyover I have seen was of some Apache helicopters at the November 1992 Hooters 500 in Atlanta for Richard Petty's last-ever NASCAR race which, incidentally, was the race during which Gentleman Alan Kulwicki won the Winston Cup. The three copters blasted in out of nowhere, it seemed, and flew low to follow behind King Richard in a lap around the track. Now THAT was a sight to behold.
The fireworks began at 9:40 as scheduled. This show is reported to be the largest in the southeast, east of the Missisippi and south of DC. Anyone who has been in the same county as me knows I love Walt Disney World and a highlight of our many visits has always been to close a long day with fireworks over Cinderella Castle. But man, oh man...if I may lapse into Southern vernacular for a moment: I ain't never seen no fireworks like I saw tonight. A full 20 minutes set to the usual rousing Southern- and American-themed music. We were so close that I had to relax my head back on my seat to really get a good view, and it looked as though they were coming right down on me. Actually, we all got dusted with debris from the casings and some ash. It was surreal. The fireworks that erupted during "Georgia" were peach and green, like peaches. And there were many new effects this year that were beyond spectacular. They just took my breath away and even 20 minutes seemed to fly by.
Some things I observed during our 2 1/2-hour wait for the show:
*While I am in favor of American citizens keeping more of our money and the imperial government getting less, I think we might benefit from financial assistance to provide mirrors in some peoples' houses so they can take a look before they go out. I saw too many 50-year-old, 250-lb women in miniskirts; too many bra straps; too many flabby bellies hanging out of shirts and flabby hineys hanging out of pants; and too many thongs and tramp stamps (sorry, that's the only thing I've ever heard them called).
*40- and 50-year-old-women still think they're hot and like to dance when they've had a little bit to drink. That is alternately amusing and pathetic. I guess it's amuthetic?
*Why do people take little babies to fireworks shows? Ok, if you're a few blocks down, maybe. But 200 yards from the launching point? The group beside us had a baby who was maybe 1 month old. Guess who wasn't happy when the REALLY LOUD NOISES began? That baby and about a dozen others within spitting distance. Poor little ears.
*Two ladies beside us with 2 small children were very conscientious to take turns watching the kids so the other could step away and smoke away from the children. Right in front of us. Please, move and take your cancer sticks with you. I don't know if there's any single behavior that looks less ladylike than waving one of those things around and blowing smoke.
*Never fails any time or anywhere we get somewhere early for something, and I'm sure it doesn't just happen to us: We get there early, stake out a seat, wait patiently for our event, and right at the big moment a group comes and stands in front of us. Oh, no, buddy, I'm sorry, you're going to have to move or sit down.
*Is it possible for a Mexican female between the ages of oh, say, 18 and 40 to NOT be pregnant?
*If you're in public, and especially in a public that includes children, is it really necessary to use profanity in your conversations?
*They're called TRASH CANS. They're those big cardboard boxes about every 20 feet.
*Port-a-potties aren't necessarily evil. This event always has more than ample temporary relief facilities, probaby 150 or more, and they are always spotless.
*My DH will get mad if, at the end of the evening when all 150,000 of us are trying to walk out of the mall parking lot, a big guy pushes in front of us and I say, "Hey, buddy, we're all trying to get somewhere." Learned that by experience tonight.
*Fascinating to look at some of the couples and try to imagine how on earth they got together.
*I don't understand people coming to something like this three hours in advance and not bringing something to sit on.
*Funnel cakes are worth the wait and the six bucks. Especially if you ask for extra sugar.
We arrived at 3:30 with fireworks to begin at 9:40, but thankfully we had a plan that kept us from having to a) wander through stores whose wealth detectors know the second we walk through the door that we don't belong, or 2) camp in the parking lot for 6 hours. We went to the theater and saw Ratatouille....for the second time in a week. If anything, we all (DH, 7 1/2 yo DD, and I) all enjoyed it more the second time. I was able to spend more time taking in all the peripheral details in the animation -- the bread that Remy was about to eat before he was interrupted by Gusteau looked as real as anything I've ever held in my own hand, with big crevices and a beautiful true-life translucence. The scratches and patina on the copper cookware, the unevenness of the floor in the old restaurant, the scratches on the floor under the furniture legs are just a few more examples of attention to true-life detail rendered splendidly in animation. The audience in this showing actually consisted more of adults than children, and to hear them engage in and enjoy the show really heightened the experience for all of us. It was great fun and the release of this movie on DVD may finally push me to buy a better television.
We made a quick stop at Chick-Fil-A in the food court for a bite to eat and we headed across the street at about 6:30. The whole parking lot at Lenox was closed down by this time so we had ample space to set up our three folding chairs. Then DH and DD set off to garner her a balloon. What is up with kids and balloons these days? Why is a free, cheapo balloon still a big deal? They get them everywhere now, restaurants, dentist, bookstores, you name it. I think by the time I was her age I might have ever had 5 balloons, and helium? Forget it! Anyway, off they went. Now, last year when they made this trek, they stopped at a booth for some charity where they donated a dollar and DD got to spin a prize wheel. She came back with a DVD set of Season 1 of Boston Legal, so she was truly my hero. I was hoping she could snag Season 2 for me this time, or maybe a season of The Office. Alas, they returned with one balloon, two paper fans, two giveaway do-rags and one stadium cup, all promoting the local news show that was covering the festivities.
A few bands were playing -- one country, one southern rock, one more soul style. All were pretty good but I can't for the life of me figure out why, at such a family-oriented event, they sing songs with profanity? I mean, mostly d*** and h***, but one instance of b***h. Why??
At 8 pm the live television coverage began, so a military band played the National Anthem. Six words, people: STAND UP. TAKE OFF YOUR CAPS.
After the anthem, three Blackhawk helicopters did a flyover and I got the requisite lump in my throat. Typically they have jets fly over but I always choke up at whatever show of military presence there is. I am so grateful to our dedicated men and women in uniform and their families. Off subject, but the most impressive flyover I have seen was of some Apache helicopters at the November 1992 Hooters 500 in Atlanta for Richard Petty's last-ever NASCAR race which, incidentally, was the race during which Gentleman Alan Kulwicki won the Winston Cup. The three copters blasted in out of nowhere, it seemed, and flew low to follow behind King Richard in a lap around the track. Now THAT was a sight to behold.
The fireworks began at 9:40 as scheduled. This show is reported to be the largest in the southeast, east of the Missisippi and south of DC. Anyone who has been in the same county as me knows I love Walt Disney World and a highlight of our many visits has always been to close a long day with fireworks over Cinderella Castle. But man, oh man...if I may lapse into Southern vernacular for a moment: I ain't never seen no fireworks like I saw tonight. A full 20 minutes set to the usual rousing Southern- and American-themed music. We were so close that I had to relax my head back on my seat to really get a good view, and it looked as though they were coming right down on me. Actually, we all got dusted with debris from the casings and some ash. It was surreal. The fireworks that erupted during "Georgia" were peach and green, like peaches. And there were many new effects this year that were beyond spectacular. They just took my breath away and even 20 minutes seemed to fly by.
Some things I observed during our 2 1/2-hour wait for the show:
*While I am in favor of American citizens keeping more of our money and the imperial government getting less, I think we might benefit from financial assistance to provide mirrors in some peoples' houses so they can take a look before they go out. I saw too many 50-year-old, 250-lb women in miniskirts; too many bra straps; too many flabby bellies hanging out of shirts and flabby hineys hanging out of pants; and too many thongs and tramp stamps (sorry, that's the only thing I've ever heard them called).
*40- and 50-year-old-women still think they're hot and like to dance when they've had a little bit to drink. That is alternately amusing and pathetic. I guess it's amuthetic?
*Why do people take little babies to fireworks shows? Ok, if you're a few blocks down, maybe. But 200 yards from the launching point? The group beside us had a baby who was maybe 1 month old. Guess who wasn't happy when the REALLY LOUD NOISES began? That baby and about a dozen others within spitting distance. Poor little ears.
*Two ladies beside us with 2 small children were very conscientious to take turns watching the kids so the other could step away and smoke away from the children. Right in front of us. Please, move and take your cancer sticks with you. I don't know if there's any single behavior that looks less ladylike than waving one of those things around and blowing smoke.
*Never fails any time or anywhere we get somewhere early for something, and I'm sure it doesn't just happen to us: We get there early, stake out a seat, wait patiently for our event, and right at the big moment a group comes and stands in front of us. Oh, no, buddy, I'm sorry, you're going to have to move or sit down.
*Is it possible for a Mexican female between the ages of oh, say, 18 and 40 to NOT be pregnant?
*If you're in public, and especially in a public that includes children, is it really necessary to use profanity in your conversations?
*They're called TRASH CANS. They're those big cardboard boxes about every 20 feet.
*Port-a-potties aren't necessarily evil. This event always has more than ample temporary relief facilities, probaby 150 or more, and they are always spotless.
*My DH will get mad if, at the end of the evening when all 150,000 of us are trying to walk out of the mall parking lot, a big guy pushes in front of us and I say, "Hey, buddy, we're all trying to get somewhere." Learned that by experience tonight.
*Fascinating to look at some of the couples and try to imagine how on earth they got together.
*I don't understand people coming to something like this three hours in advance and not bringing something to sit on.
*Funnel cakes are worth the wait and the six bucks. Especially if you ask for extra sugar.
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