When I heard about radio talk show host Rush Limbaugh's songwriter and his latest work, "Magic Negro" about president-elect Barack Obama, I couldn't do much more than shake my head. It took me awhile to figure out the headache that followed was from me clinching my jaw in angst.
How is it possible that we can come so far only to fall so fast?
Upfront: I didn't vote for Mr. Obama because I don't like his historical stance on issues involving education, abortion, and his 20 years spent listening to the radical rants of Rev. Jeremiah Wright.
But he is going to be our president and I do have respect for that position. I am also interested to see what Obama, a member of my generation, is going to bring to the table. I do not want him to fail, that would be suicide for the whole country, so I am joining the mass of those who supported him all along in wishing him well these next four years.
With that said, I just cannot fathom the idiocy of the aforementioned song.
Our new president's job is going to be tough enough without the sophomoric sour grapes of Mr. Limbaugh's friend. That guy needs to shut up already, and give Obama a chance to prove himself.
Wordly discourse on everything from the sad state of public education, politics and world peace to vegetarianism, breast vs. bottle, religious persecution, bad media, and all manner of life's vagaries.
December 31, 2008
December 23, 2008
Longfellow's Christmas musing
"Christmas Bells."
This is one of my favorite poems by Henry W. Longfellow and, quite possibly, one of his shortest. (If you've ever tried to read the epics "Song of Hiawatha" or "Courtship of Miles Standish" you can appreciate this.)
It seems especially relevant this year with all the economic turmoil, our soldiers still fighting in foreign lands, and the uncertainty that hangs between a president leaving and a new one coming in. And let's not forget the ongoing cultural war against anything even remotely connected to Christ and those who follow Him. This is perhaps the biggest struggle of all and one that very likely lies at the heart of most of the other troubles world 'round.
Longfellow wrote it in the aftermath of the bloody Civil War battle at Gettysburg where more than 40,000 soldiers were killed. In spite of the horrors of the war and the loss of his own wife in a fire, he wasn't able to let go of his faith in God. There's a lesson here, don't you think?
Christmas Bells
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’
This is one of my favorite poems by Henry W. Longfellow and, quite possibly, one of his shortest. (If you've ever tried to read the epics "Song of Hiawatha" or "Courtship of Miles Standish" you can appreciate this.)
It seems especially relevant this year with all the economic turmoil, our soldiers still fighting in foreign lands, and the uncertainty that hangs between a president leaving and a new one coming in. And let's not forget the ongoing cultural war against anything even remotely connected to Christ and those who follow Him. This is perhaps the biggest struggle of all and one that very likely lies at the heart of most of the other troubles world 'round.
Longfellow wrote it in the aftermath of the bloody Civil War battle at Gettysburg where more than 40,000 soldiers were killed. In spite of the horrors of the war and the loss of his own wife in a fire, he wasn't able to let go of his faith in God. There's a lesson here, don't you think?
Christmas Bells
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Till, ringing, singing on its way
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The Carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!
And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;
‘For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’
Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
‘God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!’
My policy on profanity
In general, it's not a good idea. In specific circumstances, a well-placed profane word packs a punch like no other. I save my strong language for people who purposely harm children, animals or senior citizens. I have, on occasion, hurled an epithet in the direction of politicians whose abject disregard for their constituency left me blind with rage.
But like I say, in general it's not helpful, necessary, or polite -- three things my sainted mother has always taught me to strive to be. (Sorry, Mom, still working on these, KWIM?)
As for swearing in the presence of children, mine or anyone else's? No way, no how. I don't even let my children read books or listen to music that even remotely suggests blue language. I figure I have them only for a few short years, relatively speaking. They have their whole lives to go up against a world so chock full of vulgarity of all kinds that swearing will be the least of the vices to consider.
Hope this clears up any confusion as to why I'd call a man who abuses his child and shares that horror on the internet a "bastard" (really, don't you think that's pretty tame, considering the nature of his choice?) while at the same time being annoyed by folks who sit around cursing in the presence of my children.
I guess you could say I'm a selective swearer.
But like I say, in general it's not helpful, necessary, or polite -- three things my sainted mother has always taught me to strive to be. (Sorry, Mom, still working on these, KWIM?)
As for swearing in the presence of children, mine or anyone else's? No way, no how. I don't even let my children read books or listen to music that even remotely suggests blue language. I figure I have them only for a few short years, relatively speaking. They have their whole lives to go up against a world so chock full of vulgarity of all kinds that swearing will be the least of the vices to consider.
Hope this clears up any confusion as to why I'd call a man who abuses his child and shares that horror on the internet a "bastard" (really, don't you think that's pretty tame, considering the nature of his choice?) while at the same time being annoyed by folks who sit around cursing in the presence of my children.
I guess you could say I'm a selective swearer.
December 22, 2008
Maybe they should focus on what?
The Houston Chronicle blows the cover off a highly-regarded but little-known (around the office) religious tome that's been handed down for half a century among Harris County district attorneys.
Yes, THAT book.
Aside from the probability that the Chronicle story will now result in a bunch of whiny athiests huddled in protest on the steps of the county courthouse demanding the Bible be removed from within private quarters, the story generated a handful of reader comments one of which caught my eye for its abject ignorance of history.
The reader wrote, "Maybe they should focus more on the lawbooks and less on the Bible."
Um, where does this person think our laws came from? You know, the ones about not stealing, killing, lying, cheating -- the stuff all good crimes are usually made of?
As an aside -- and I cannot help myself here -- the reader is probably a product of our vaunted public schools, the ones where historical revisionism abounds and nothing that smacks of religious mention dare be made.
It will be interesting to see how long it takes the anti-Christian crowd to organize itself into a frenzy over the innocuous tradition of the outgoing DA signing his or her name or leaving citations to favorite or helpful verses written in the Bible's endpapers before handing it down to their successor.
Meanwhile, let's hope our incoming DA Pat Lykos will freely consult the ancient wisdom of Moses, Solomon, Jesus and Paul, just to name a few, anytime she's confronted with a difficult decision.
Can't hurt, might help.
Yes, THAT book.
Aside from the probability that the Chronicle story will now result in a bunch of whiny athiests huddled in protest on the steps of the county courthouse demanding the Bible be removed from within private quarters, the story generated a handful of reader comments one of which caught my eye for its abject ignorance of history.
The reader wrote, "Maybe they should focus more on the lawbooks and less on the Bible."
Um, where does this person think our laws came from? You know, the ones about not stealing, killing, lying, cheating -- the stuff all good crimes are usually made of?
As an aside -- and I cannot help myself here -- the reader is probably a product of our vaunted public schools, the ones where historical revisionism abounds and nothing that smacks of religious mention dare be made.
It will be interesting to see how long it takes the anti-Christian crowd to organize itself into a frenzy over the innocuous tradition of the outgoing DA signing his or her name or leaving citations to favorite or helpful verses written in the Bible's endpapers before handing it down to their successor.
Meanwhile, let's hope our incoming DA Pat Lykos will freely consult the ancient wisdom of Moses, Solomon, Jesus and Paul, just to name a few, anytime she's confronted with a difficult decision.
Can't hurt, might help.
December 21, 2008
The 18th Duggar
By now most of you have read or heard about the Arkansas couple Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar and their unusually large family. Mrs. Duggar just gave birth to her 18th baby, bringing the count to 10 sons and eight daughters.
The Houston Chronicle carried the story and while I was glad to know mother and baby were doing well, I was even more interested to read some of the many reader comments that followed.
They were, not to my surprise, overwhemingly vitriolic in their tone. Also overwhelming? The degree of ignorance about this family and how they live. Any fool who wanted to write from an informed position could google the Duggars and get the real scoop, but it's more fun to lie or speculate, I guess.
Case in point, a couple of nights ago my family and I went out to eat at a local Mexican restaurant and we were seated next to a table of two adult couples. I guess the margaritas had gone to their heads because they were talking quite loudly and, much to my chagrin, vulgarly about -- you guessed it -- the Duggar's 18th baby.
I couldn't help but overhear one of the men say, "Yeah, they probably get big money from the government for every one of those kids and not just tax breaks but welfare, ya know?" The woman across from him said, "Yeah, you KNOW they get welfare. What's wrong with them anyway, breeding like rabbits. That's just sick and there's no way those kids can be happy."
The man next to her chimed in with a profane exclamation before adding, "It oughta be a law that after so many kids it's snip-snip for him and snip-tie for her, heh, heh."
On and on it went until at last their food came and they opted to eat rather than share their opinions. Fortunately, my children were so busy talking and coloring their placemats I don't think they picked up any new vocabulary. Praise God!
For the record, the Duggar's probably do get tax deductions for each of their children -- but so do I! It's the law and I'm glad, especially since the Duggars, like us, pay property taxes to a local school district they do not use. All their children are homeschooled.
As for other "welfare," I am sure they are given things, in fact I know they willingly accept hand-me-downs and buy secondhand or at cost when possible. When did thrift become a dirty word? When did it become wrong to give your castoffs to a family who could use them? The government bails out financial criminals to the tune of billions, the president pardons thugs and drug dealers left and right, why is it wrong for the Duggars to take gifts offered to them?
Some critics who can't think of anything else to poke at, note the female Duggars' conservative dress and long hair and decry their "fashion sense." Isn't it always the way when women are involved? If you can't find some reason to question their intelligence you go after their looks.
All the Duggar kids are clean, fed, educated, musically talented, and have learned the greatest lesson of all -- that family led by God should be the center of your experience.
Shame on Jim Bob and Michelle for teaching their children faith, morals, a work ethic, a servant heart for those younger or more vulnerable, a sense of family and home, the miraculous nature of new life, and practical skills such as auto repair, home maintenance and construction.
Why, just think if every family regardless of its size did the same thing? Our prisons might be a little emptier, our public schools even more so, and our workforce made up of more than automatons with pieces of paper their only proof of competence.
If I had the choice between 18 well-taught, well-trained and faith-filled Duggars or the four morons who assailed my ears with trash talk the other night, I'd take the Duggar bunch any day.
Congratulations Jim Bob and Michelle. Every child ought to be born into a family as large and loving and capable as yours.
The Houston Chronicle carried the story and while I was glad to know mother and baby were doing well, I was even more interested to read some of the many reader comments that followed.
They were, not to my surprise, overwhemingly vitriolic in their tone. Also overwhelming? The degree of ignorance about this family and how they live. Any fool who wanted to write from an informed position could google the Duggars and get the real scoop, but it's more fun to lie or speculate, I guess.
Case in point, a couple of nights ago my family and I went out to eat at a local Mexican restaurant and we were seated next to a table of two adult couples. I guess the margaritas had gone to their heads because they were talking quite loudly and, much to my chagrin, vulgarly about -- you guessed it -- the Duggar's 18th baby.
I couldn't help but overhear one of the men say, "Yeah, they probably get big money from the government for every one of those kids and not just tax breaks but welfare, ya know?" The woman across from him said, "Yeah, you KNOW they get welfare. What's wrong with them anyway, breeding like rabbits. That's just sick and there's no way those kids can be happy."
The man next to her chimed in with a profane exclamation before adding, "It oughta be a law that after so many kids it's snip-snip for him and snip-tie for her, heh, heh."
On and on it went until at last their food came and they opted to eat rather than share their opinions. Fortunately, my children were so busy talking and coloring their placemats I don't think they picked up any new vocabulary. Praise God!
For the record, the Duggar's probably do get tax deductions for each of their children -- but so do I! It's the law and I'm glad, especially since the Duggars, like us, pay property taxes to a local school district they do not use. All their children are homeschooled.
As for other "welfare," I am sure they are given things, in fact I know they willingly accept hand-me-downs and buy secondhand or at cost when possible. When did thrift become a dirty word? When did it become wrong to give your castoffs to a family who could use them? The government bails out financial criminals to the tune of billions, the president pardons thugs and drug dealers left and right, why is it wrong for the Duggars to take gifts offered to them?
Some critics who can't think of anything else to poke at, note the female Duggars' conservative dress and long hair and decry their "fashion sense." Isn't it always the way when women are involved? If you can't find some reason to question their intelligence you go after their looks.
All the Duggar kids are clean, fed, educated, musically talented, and have learned the greatest lesson of all -- that family led by God should be the center of your experience.
Shame on Jim Bob and Michelle for teaching their children faith, morals, a work ethic, a servant heart for those younger or more vulnerable, a sense of family and home, the miraculous nature of new life, and practical skills such as auto repair, home maintenance and construction.
Why, just think if every family regardless of its size did the same thing? Our prisons might be a little emptier, our public schools even more so, and our workforce made up of more than automatons with pieces of paper their only proof of competence.
If I had the choice between 18 well-taught, well-trained and faith-filled Duggars or the four morons who assailed my ears with trash talk the other night, I'd take the Duggar bunch any day.
Congratulations Jim Bob and Michelle. Every child ought to be born into a family as large and loving and capable as yours.
December 17, 2008
Some people are just no damn good
You read me right. Some people leave me shaking my head, wondering why in the world God allowed them to live and move and breathe as long as He did, long enough to commit atrocities of unspeakable kinds.
First on my list of The NDG: The Campbell family of Pennsylvania who named their three year old son Adolph Hitler Campbell in honor of everyone's favorite Nazi. They gave another of their children, a daughter, the middle names of Aryan and Nation so that tells you their elevator doesn't go all the way to the top anyway.
Not only is saddling a child with the name of the 20th century's most evil man evil in and of itself, the family is all bothered by their local grocery store bakery's refusal to write "Happy Birthday Adolph Hitler" on the boy's cake.
I am not making this up.
Next on my list is a father from Washington who raped his then nine-year-old daughter, videotaped the vile act, and distributed the images around the world via the internet. The cowardly bastard then ran and hid in China before U.S. authorities extradited him back to America to face charges. The only bright spot in this story is that he's likely to spend the rest of his life in prison with no possibility of parole. The title of "father" needs to be stripped from this monster.
Lastly, there's the not-s0-dearly departed Ottis Toole who, posthumously, has been declared the official killer of Adam Walsh, son of America's Most Wanted founder John Walsh more than twenty years ago. Toole was old enough to know better when he snatched the six-year-old boy from a Florida mall, cut off his head, and dumped him in a swamp. Toole himself died in prison a few years back while being held on other charges. Tell me again why we ban torture in such extreme circumstances?
My religion teaches that God alone is the judge of all people and that it's not up to us to decide who lives or who dies. But I wonder sometimes whether God turns away as our society goes after its vilest members, perhaps not pleased with our Wild West legal system but nonetheless resigned to let us have one.
May He bless and bring peace to the lives of all children harmed by adults, and may He bestow some much needed wisdom upon the fools who think Adolph Hitler's name should live on in any capacity.
First on my list of The NDG: The Campbell family of Pennsylvania who named their three year old son Adolph Hitler Campbell in honor of everyone's favorite Nazi. They gave another of their children, a daughter, the middle names of Aryan and Nation so that tells you their elevator doesn't go all the way to the top anyway.
Not only is saddling a child with the name of the 20th century's most evil man evil in and of itself, the family is all bothered by their local grocery store bakery's refusal to write "Happy Birthday Adolph Hitler" on the boy's cake.
I am not making this up.
Next on my list is a father from Washington who raped his then nine-year-old daughter, videotaped the vile act, and distributed the images around the world via the internet. The cowardly bastard then ran and hid in China before U.S. authorities extradited him back to America to face charges. The only bright spot in this story is that he's likely to spend the rest of his life in prison with no possibility of parole. The title of "father" needs to be stripped from this monster.
Lastly, there's the not-s0-dearly departed Ottis Toole who, posthumously, has been declared the official killer of Adam Walsh, son of America's Most Wanted founder John Walsh more than twenty years ago. Toole was old enough to know better when he snatched the six-year-old boy from a Florida mall, cut off his head, and dumped him in a swamp. Toole himself died in prison a few years back while being held on other charges. Tell me again why we ban torture in such extreme circumstances?
My religion teaches that God alone is the judge of all people and that it's not up to us to decide who lives or who dies. But I wonder sometimes whether God turns away as our society goes after its vilest members, perhaps not pleased with our Wild West legal system but nonetheless resigned to let us have one.
May He bless and bring peace to the lives of all children harmed by adults, and may He bestow some much needed wisdom upon the fools who think Adolph Hitler's name should live on in any capacity.
Don't forget the Amish!
I'm back on my soapbox regarding US-made toys, having finally found a domestically produced dollhouse and set of doll furniture for my girls for Christmas. JontiCraft, maker of the sturdy furniture and equipment you see in kindergartens or daycares, also makes a basic, functional dollhouse. The price was comparable to many of the imported brands and I got free shipping/no sales tax to boot! The doll furniture is made in California.
Then there's the Amish. We own several small Amish-made wooden toys, a favorite being the dial telephones. My children use these for playing office, playing house and when they set up whatever "business" they're in that day. Google "amish-made toys" and see if you don't find a plethora of well-made and safe products. Even if it's too late for this Christmas, keep them in mind for upcoming birthdays or "just because" times.
If you need two more reasons to avoid the plastic claptrap made in You Know Where, here they are:
Phthalates -- chemicals used to soften plastics and made them rubbery are also linked to a big list of health problems. Unless a soft plastic toy, pacifier or sippy cup is labeled "phthalate free" take time to contact the manufacturer to find out what's in whatever your child just put in his mouth.
Landfills -- I can't find the statistic at this wee hour of the morning, but somewhere someone calculated the enormous additional burden to our landfills when folks discard the tons of broken plastic toys generated in this country every year. Unlike wooden toys, many plastic toys cannot be repaired if they fall apart so they end up in the trash.
Then there's the Amish. We own several small Amish-made wooden toys, a favorite being the dial telephones. My children use these for playing office, playing house and when they set up whatever "business" they're in that day. Google "amish-made toys" and see if you don't find a plethora of well-made and safe products. Even if it's too late for this Christmas, keep them in mind for upcoming birthdays or "just because" times.
If you need two more reasons to avoid the plastic claptrap made in You Know Where, here they are:
Phthalates -- chemicals used to soften plastics and made them rubbery are also linked to a big list of health problems. Unless a soft plastic toy, pacifier or sippy cup is labeled "phthalate free" take time to contact the manufacturer to find out what's in whatever your child just put in his mouth.
Landfills -- I can't find the statistic at this wee hour of the morning, but somewhere someone calculated the enormous additional burden to our landfills when folks discard the tons of broken plastic toys generated in this country every year. Unlike wooden toys, many plastic toys cannot be repaired if they fall apart so they end up in the trash.
December 16, 2008
Obama on a plate for $19.99
The man hasn't even been sworn in and already the tacky souvenir production has begun. Late night TV hawks a porcelain plate with Obama's likeness right smack in the center surrounded by an American flag and fireworks.
A black couple is shown sitting in their living room gushing about how this item is sure to become a treasured family heirloom for generations to come. A white man who doesn't look like the type who would have voted for a Democrat of any color is shown glancing lovingly at the Obama plate displayed prominently on his desk.
Ick.
It's one thing to be glad your candidate won. It's another thing to turn it into idol worship. The cult of personality worked well for Mao in China. Let's hope we can avoid larger than life posters of our next president plastered across buildings, bridges, and emblazoned on the backpacks of school children.
I'd gladly pay $20 for that.
A black couple is shown sitting in their living room gushing about how this item is sure to become a treasured family heirloom for generations to come. A white man who doesn't look like the type who would have voted for a Democrat of any color is shown glancing lovingly at the Obama plate displayed prominently on his desk.
Ick.
It's one thing to be glad your candidate won. It's another thing to turn it into idol worship. The cult of personality worked well for Mao in China. Let's hope we can avoid larger than life posters of our next president plastered across buildings, bridges, and emblazoned on the backpacks of school children.
I'd gladly pay $20 for that.
Can you copyright a monument?
India thinks you can and is investigating whether it has a case against its neighbor Bangladesh. A Bangladeshi film director has spent $58 million to build an exact replica of the Taj Mahal, the beautiful white marble monument built by Shah Jahan to honor his dead wife. It is one of the world's most famous buildings and for many the ultimate symbol of love and grief.
Bangladeshis apparently can't afford to travel to the real Taj so one has been built for them in the capital city of Dhaka.
But Indian officials are furious. "You can't just go around copying historical monuments," one Indian politician is quoted as saying.
I'm curious to know, with the wrenching poverty that has characterized Bangladesh for most of my life, what else could have been accomplished with $58 million, and is a facsimile of the Taj Mahal really what the people there need?
Bangladeshis apparently can't afford to travel to the real Taj so one has been built for them in the capital city of Dhaka.
But Indian officials are furious. "You can't just go around copying historical monuments," one Indian politician is quoted as saying.
I'm curious to know, with the wrenching poverty that has characterized Bangladesh for most of my life, what else could have been accomplished with $58 million, and is a facsimile of the Taj Mahal really what the people there need?
December 15, 2008
HISD snags another stoner
The Houston Chronicle reports today that yet another Houston Independent School District employee has been nailed for illegal drug possession. Has this person been on vacation? Under a rock? In a cave? On a months long trek through Appalachia? Do they not KNOW their employer has been ferreting out drug users for the past couple of months?
The employee arrested is a TEACHING ASSISTANT in the special education department at one of the district's alternative schools.
Let's get this straight (pardon the pun):
A child is sent to an alternative school usually because of extenuating circumstances that make being in a regular classroom difficult. A child in a special ed. program at an alternative school is surely doubly burdened.
With that in mind, wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that kids in the second circumstance need as much help as they can possibly get? If you were the parent of a child whose special ed. classes were taking place in an alternative school, wouldn't you figure that those two layers of "specialness" were enough to keep your child safe from a drug user?
I give HISD credit for weeding out (again, no pun intended, really) its lawbreaking employees. But what a pity to have so many on hand to start with.
Doesn't it leave you wondering who they haven't found out about yet?
The employee arrested is a TEACHING ASSISTANT in the special education department at one of the district's alternative schools.
Let's get this straight (pardon the pun):
A child is sent to an alternative school usually because of extenuating circumstances that make being in a regular classroom difficult. A child in a special ed. program at an alternative school is surely doubly burdened.
With that in mind, wouldn't it be reasonable to assume that kids in the second circumstance need as much help as they can possibly get? If you were the parent of a child whose special ed. classes were taking place in an alternative school, wouldn't you figure that those two layers of "specialness" were enough to keep your child safe from a drug user?
I give HISD credit for weeding out (again, no pun intended, really) its lawbreaking employees. But what a pity to have so many on hand to start with.
Doesn't it leave you wondering who they haven't found out about yet?
Say NO to Chinese toys this Christmas
China. It's a beautiful country with a rich culture and a surplus of abandoned baby girls. It's a study in Communism with a capitalist flair as countless US manufacturers who've moved their operations there can attest.
It's also a thorn in my side when it comes to toys for my children for Christmas.
It IS possible to buy American for your kids. All you need is the internet and some patience to find nearly every classic toy ever made STILL being made right here in the U.S. without all the lead, melamine, metal shavings and other trash found in so many Chinese-made products.
Puzzles, board games, train sets, cars, castles, dolls, books, blocks, art supplies, musical instruments, the list goes on and on.
My challenge this year is to find a dollhouse made in America. Nothing I've found so far is as colorful as the Chinese-made ones, but the prices are comparable and, like I say, I am reassured to know that whichever model I pick likely won't end up killing my kids.
I've already ordered some cool stuff from Fat Brain Toys and from Holgate Toy Company. Holgate boasts an impressive array of beautifully colored and crafted toys for all ages/both genders. Fat Brain has more than 300 offerings. Some of them are puzzle books and art supplies, yes, but many others are more involved like botany kits, building sets of all types, board games, and baby rattles.
Another company that I've bought from in the past is Elves and Angels, makers of the greatest play kitchen sets of all types you can imagine. Our kitchen is on its fourth child and with the exception of some scobs and scratches, it remains a favorite toy and virtually indestructible. Elves and Angels also offers money saving and environmentally friendly "flat" packaging for many of its toys with simple assembly.
I also came across several Made In USA toy directories listing many companies that specialize in safe, affordable toys. Far too many websites for me to search!
If you want the latest electronics, trendy Disney character, or Hannah Montana emblazoned stuff for your child, you'll be out of luck in the world of Buy American.
But if you're looking for durable, classic, heirloom-quality, open-ended playthings be sure to check out the American toy companies before giving your dollars over to Walmart. Not only will you be keeping Americans employed at a time when so many are not, you'll be keeping your children a whole lot safer.
Don't believe me? Just google "toys recalled" and see for yourself how many of them are imports.
It's also a thorn in my side when it comes to toys for my children for Christmas.
It IS possible to buy American for your kids. All you need is the internet and some patience to find nearly every classic toy ever made STILL being made right here in the U.S. without all the lead, melamine, metal shavings and other trash found in so many Chinese-made products.
Puzzles, board games, train sets, cars, castles, dolls, books, blocks, art supplies, musical instruments, the list goes on and on.
My challenge this year is to find a dollhouse made in America. Nothing I've found so far is as colorful as the Chinese-made ones, but the prices are comparable and, like I say, I am reassured to know that whichever model I pick likely won't end up killing my kids.
I've already ordered some cool stuff from Fat Brain Toys and from Holgate Toy Company. Holgate boasts an impressive array of beautifully colored and crafted toys for all ages/both genders. Fat Brain has more than 300 offerings. Some of them are puzzle books and art supplies, yes, but many others are more involved like botany kits, building sets of all types, board games, and baby rattles.
Another company that I've bought from in the past is Elves and Angels, makers of the greatest play kitchen sets of all types you can imagine. Our kitchen is on its fourth child and with the exception of some scobs and scratches, it remains a favorite toy and virtually indestructible. Elves and Angels also offers money saving and environmentally friendly "flat" packaging for many of its toys with simple assembly.
I also came across several Made In USA toy directories listing many companies that specialize in safe, affordable toys. Far too many websites for me to search!
If you want the latest electronics, trendy Disney character, or Hannah Montana emblazoned stuff for your child, you'll be out of luck in the world of Buy American.
But if you're looking for durable, classic, heirloom-quality, open-ended playthings be sure to check out the American toy companies before giving your dollars over to Walmart. Not only will you be keeping Americans employed at a time when so many are not, you'll be keeping your children a whole lot safer.
Don't believe me? Just google "toys recalled" and see for yourself how many of them are imports.
December 11, 2008
Time to stop pretending public schools are safe
That's a pretty strong sentiment to some folks, I'm sure. True, I'm painting public ed. with a broad brush, but here in my home state of Texas it's not unreasonable to suggest that indeed public schools are hazardous territory.
Recently, the Houston ISD has racked up a whopping 15 arrests of district employees for drugs. Most of those nailed for possession were TEACHERS.
And Texas does not require pre-employment drug testing of school employees -- teachers, principals, custodians, cafeteria workers, aides -- because, guess what, IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE.
Oh, so we'd rather take a chance that in this day and age of glamourized drug use none of our teacher applicants are going to be users? Is that really smart?
Seems like less and less of public education policy is these days, to whit there is actually debate going on about whether the state should pony up the money to test before hiring.
Seriously.
And if that's not scary enough, Calvina Fay, exec. director of the Drug-Free America Foundation is quoted in the Houston Chronicle as saying, "School teachers — next to parents, and in some cases, above parents — are the strongest role model in a child's life."
Wonderful, isn't it? But who's surprised since so many parents willingly turn over their greatest treasures to a system that's really under no obligation to do its best by them. If a child fails, the school can always blame the victim so as to keep mediocre teachers teaching and top-heavy administrations at the public feed trough.
We have let the schools usurp our authority and influence over our children and now we are reaping the whirlwind.
And then there's this quote from Steve Werner, a professor of management at the University of Houston: "Certainly you could make the argument, especially if you find there's a problem, that drug testing would be warranted," he said. "On the other hand, it is a professional occupation, and the drug testing itself — the most common method is a urinalysis — is invasive; it's embarrassing."
Yeah, we don't want to go around embarrassing teachers and other school district personnel, right? C'mon, it's just the safety of children at stake. What's the big deal?
Is anyone else feeling a little queasy at this point besides me?
Another public school misstep to report and it's not much better:
An elementary up in Massachusetts is considering allowing its pupils to receive training in how to thwart a gunman should one get past security and into classrooms.
Naturally, some parents are up in arms -- no pun intended -- that their children must be confronted with such information at a time when they're supposed to be able to remain children and to be taught as such.
I can imagine how this will go: "Okay, kids, today after we finish up our math and work on our history project, we're going to learn how to keep ourselves from being blown to bits by a crazed gunman. Won't that be fun, boys and girls?"
What does it say about the caliber of people running our schools when someone actually thinks this information should be part of a child's academic day?
What does it say about us as a people when crazed gunmen in schools are no longer thought of as an aberration but as a realistic possibility that must be addressed preventatively?
It's grim either way.
And finally, World Net Daily features a story from the Miami Herald that reports three seventh graders have been suspended from a Florida school for engaging in "inappropriate sex activity" in the classroom. Is there such a thing as appropriate sexual activity when we're talking about SEVENTH graders? Is there???
Two teachers have been reassigned pending the outcome of an investigation, the Herald reports, because they were responsible for maintaining a "certain decorum" in their classrooms.
Sheesh.
Recently, the Houston ISD has racked up a whopping 15 arrests of district employees for drugs. Most of those nailed for possession were TEACHERS.
And Texas does not require pre-employment drug testing of school employees -- teachers, principals, custodians, cafeteria workers, aides -- because, guess what, IT'S TOO EXPENSIVE.
Oh, so we'd rather take a chance that in this day and age of glamourized drug use none of our teacher applicants are going to be users? Is that really smart?
Seems like less and less of public education policy is these days, to whit there is actually debate going on about whether the state should pony up the money to test before hiring.
Seriously.
And if that's not scary enough, Calvina Fay, exec. director of the Drug-Free America Foundation is quoted in the Houston Chronicle as saying, "School teachers — next to parents, and in some cases, above parents — are the strongest role model in a child's life."
Wonderful, isn't it? But who's surprised since so many parents willingly turn over their greatest treasures to a system that's really under no obligation to do its best by them. If a child fails, the school can always blame the victim so as to keep mediocre teachers teaching and top-heavy administrations at the public feed trough.
We have let the schools usurp our authority and influence over our children and now we are reaping the whirlwind.
And then there's this quote from Steve Werner, a professor of management at the University of Houston: "Certainly you could make the argument, especially if you find there's a problem, that drug testing would be warranted," he said. "On the other hand, it is a professional occupation, and the drug testing itself — the most common method is a urinalysis — is invasive; it's embarrassing."
Yeah, we don't want to go around embarrassing teachers and other school district personnel, right? C'mon, it's just the safety of children at stake. What's the big deal?
Is anyone else feeling a little queasy at this point besides me?
Another public school misstep to report and it's not much better:
An elementary up in Massachusetts is considering allowing its pupils to receive training in how to thwart a gunman should one get past security and into classrooms.
Naturally, some parents are up in arms -- no pun intended -- that their children must be confronted with such information at a time when they're supposed to be able to remain children and to be taught as such.
I can imagine how this will go: "Okay, kids, today after we finish up our math and work on our history project, we're going to learn how to keep ourselves from being blown to bits by a crazed gunman. Won't that be fun, boys and girls?"
What does it say about the caliber of people running our schools when someone actually thinks this information should be part of a child's academic day?
What does it say about us as a people when crazed gunmen in schools are no longer thought of as an aberration but as a realistic possibility that must be addressed preventatively?
It's grim either way.
And finally, World Net Daily features a story from the Miami Herald that reports three seventh graders have been suspended from a Florida school for engaging in "inappropriate sex activity" in the classroom. Is there such a thing as appropriate sexual activity when we're talking about SEVENTH graders? Is there???
Two teachers have been reassigned pending the outcome of an investigation, the Herald reports, because they were responsible for maintaining a "certain decorum" in their classrooms.
Sheesh.
December 10, 2008
We value the wrong things and it's gonna come back to haunt us
I belong to an e-group of people who have elected to, for lack of a better way to say it, trust a Higher Power to determine the size of their families. No, they are not all Mormon or all Catholic -- two religions traditionally known for larger families because of their respective doctrinal teachings.
Instead, most of the families in this group are something else -- mainline Protestants -- and it makes for a nice mix of viewpoints on many topics.
Many of these folks are homeschoolers and that's how I originally got turned on to their site and decided to subscribe. I figured that if parents of five, six, eight or even larger numbers of children were brave and committed enough to homeschool them all, I could learn a lot about juggling my brood of only four. I was right, and in the couple of years I've been privileged to read these "large family" posts, I have learned a lot not only about homeschooling but also about just how insidious our culture has become when it comes to shaping our beliefs about what we should be valuing.
In an earlier post I lamented the death of a New York Walmart employee who was trampled by shoppers eager to get a good deal. That event is but a microcosm of a much bigger, much scarier worldview that has come to define not only the United States but the West in general -- that things are more important than people.
Hear me out before you scoff and say something like, "Well, that's just silly. Of course I and everyone I know value people over things. We love our children, we love our parents, friends, etc. and we'd do anything for them."
Of course you do, and I would never say otherwise, nor do I mean to imply that this problem of things over people can be found in every person.
But society at large, the media in all its forms, even the religious institutions, talk out of both sides of their mouths on this issue and few people seem to call them down for it.
Case in point, many good Christians with whom I am personally acquainted would likely defend to their last breath the notion that purposely limiting the size of one's family is not in conflict with Biblical teaching. I won't argue that with them because religious understanding as one applies it to their life is highly personal and is ultimately between that person and God.
But what of those folks who, as committed Christians, believe the Bible instructs them to let God determine a family's size? Are they equally lauded in the Christian culture as having a correct interpretation of Scripture?
Hardly.
Rather, the no-birth-control crowd gets funny looks, sarcastic remarks, intrusive questions, and outright scorn, all the while struggling to live out their faith with as little fanfare as possible.
The worst part is that so much of the ridicule and unwanted advice comes from their fellow Christians and often as not the critics are members of their own family or are close friends. A good friend of mine, when pregnant with her third and fourth children (twins) endured her fair share of nasty comments from people in her own church! Another friend was told by a family member rather bluntly to "just stop this" and to have no more. And one of the most popular questions on the larger family e-group I mentioned? How to avoid negative remarks when announcing the impending arrival of yet another baby.
This is so sad to me. It's like joy and congratulations are reserved for only the first or second born, they are tempered with cautionary remarks at the birth of a third, and the impending arrival of Baby 4 or 5 sends folks right over the edge.
Why? Why do some Christians deride the notion that the more children God sends to families who want them, the better off those families are? If the Bible says children are blessings, then why do some folks think you should limit blessings?
Would they say the same thing if they had a million dollars and someone wanted to give them a million more?
The low-child-no-child crowd -- believers and athiests alike -- virtually always approach the question from the standpoint of money and material gain. As in, the more children you have the less money per child you have to spend. Or, the more children you have the fewer things you can give them. Or, the more children you have the less money you have to spend on yourself, and what about saving for retirement or buying a new widget? And on and on it goes.
Money is more important than children and anyone trusting God with their family planning must surely be equally foolish to trust Him with providing for that family, regardless of its size.
The same no-more-children crowd may grudgingly let go of the money argument to point out instead that larger families drain resources, crowd cities, suck up all the good air, eat up all the food, and in general burden society at large with their very existence. "Just look at Africa," they say. "All those children starving to death when a hefty dose of birth control pills would've nipped that problem in the bud."
If no more children were born in Africa would things magically improve? Would its various economies rebound and ethnic fighting cease? Would AIDS vanish?
No, because too many of Africa's ills are the outgrowth of decades of tribal disputes and governmental abuses that are so deeply entrenched they are nigh impossible to root out and resolve. Babies are not the problem in Africa, grownups are.
Babies aren't the problem in other countries, either. In fact, there is a dawning realization that they may be the answer if certain cultures are to survive.
In Japan, in Russia, and in much of Western Europe, the birth rate has fallen so sharply over the past several decades that their populations are at or below replacement levels. A population heavy with aged people cannot sustain itself. Who will work in the factories and fields? Who will pay into pension systems? Who will occupy schools and churches and preserve heritages and languages if everyone ages and dies out and there's no one to follow?
Immigration is proving to be the answer to the dilemma in parts of Europe and in the U.S. People from largely Catholic Mexico come to America, legally or not, and fill our cities, schools and communities. Muslims, traditionally inclined against limiting family size, are immigrating into England and France, providing children who will someday be young adults to work the jobs that pay into the pensions of the elderly. The cultures of countries heavy on immigration are beginning to change and that's fine as long as everyone understands what this means for the outgoing society.
Some folks are way too quick to assume that babies and children are one of life's biggest burdens, the inconvenience to end all inconveniences, a circumstance to be endured or tolerated until it improves by virtue of the kids growing up.
I feel sorry for them.
The next time you encounter a larger than average family, especially one with well behaved or helpful children, take a minute to say something nice to the parents. Chances are, they've heard their fair share of ugly remarks as each baby was born, and your kind words will be a sort of affirmation that neither they nor God made a mistake. Chances are that while their many children may indeed pose challenges that the parent of one or two doesn't have, those parents may find something so rewarding in all of it that the tough times are a small price to pay for the privilege of raising a basketball team.
I propose that any child is a gift from God and, further, that this world would be a jawdroppingly amazing place if every government, every military, every educator, every clergyperson, every citizen really believed it and dealt with children and their families accordingly.
Maybe then Africa wouldn't flounder, Europe wouldn't fade, and those of us with more than 2.3 children wouldn't be called rabbits, rednecks, irresponsible or just downright stupid.
More on this topic in future 'blogs.
Instead, most of the families in this group are something else -- mainline Protestants -- and it makes for a nice mix of viewpoints on many topics.
Many of these folks are homeschoolers and that's how I originally got turned on to their site and decided to subscribe. I figured that if parents of five, six, eight or even larger numbers of children were brave and committed enough to homeschool them all, I could learn a lot about juggling my brood of only four. I was right, and in the couple of years I've been privileged to read these "large family" posts, I have learned a lot not only about homeschooling but also about just how insidious our culture has become when it comes to shaping our beliefs about what we should be valuing.
In an earlier post I lamented the death of a New York Walmart employee who was trampled by shoppers eager to get a good deal. That event is but a microcosm of a much bigger, much scarier worldview that has come to define not only the United States but the West in general -- that things are more important than people.
Hear me out before you scoff and say something like, "Well, that's just silly. Of course I and everyone I know value people over things. We love our children, we love our parents, friends, etc. and we'd do anything for them."
Of course you do, and I would never say otherwise, nor do I mean to imply that this problem of things over people can be found in every person.
But society at large, the media in all its forms, even the religious institutions, talk out of both sides of their mouths on this issue and few people seem to call them down for it.
Case in point, many good Christians with whom I am personally acquainted would likely defend to their last breath the notion that purposely limiting the size of one's family is not in conflict with Biblical teaching. I won't argue that with them because religious understanding as one applies it to their life is highly personal and is ultimately between that person and God.
But what of those folks who, as committed Christians, believe the Bible instructs them to let God determine a family's size? Are they equally lauded in the Christian culture as having a correct interpretation of Scripture?
Hardly.
Rather, the no-birth-control crowd gets funny looks, sarcastic remarks, intrusive questions, and outright scorn, all the while struggling to live out their faith with as little fanfare as possible.
The worst part is that so much of the ridicule and unwanted advice comes from their fellow Christians and often as not the critics are members of their own family or are close friends. A good friend of mine, when pregnant with her third and fourth children (twins) endured her fair share of nasty comments from people in her own church! Another friend was told by a family member rather bluntly to "just stop this" and to have no more. And one of the most popular questions on the larger family e-group I mentioned? How to avoid negative remarks when announcing the impending arrival of yet another baby.
This is so sad to me. It's like joy and congratulations are reserved for only the first or second born, they are tempered with cautionary remarks at the birth of a third, and the impending arrival of Baby 4 or 5 sends folks right over the edge.
Why? Why do some Christians deride the notion that the more children God sends to families who want them, the better off those families are? If the Bible says children are blessings, then why do some folks think you should limit blessings?
Would they say the same thing if they had a million dollars and someone wanted to give them a million more?
The low-child-no-child crowd -- believers and athiests alike -- virtually always approach the question from the standpoint of money and material gain. As in, the more children you have the less money per child you have to spend. Or, the more children you have the fewer things you can give them. Or, the more children you have the less money you have to spend on yourself, and what about saving for retirement or buying a new widget? And on and on it goes.
Money is more important than children and anyone trusting God with their family planning must surely be equally foolish to trust Him with providing for that family, regardless of its size.
The same no-more-children crowd may grudgingly let go of the money argument to point out instead that larger families drain resources, crowd cities, suck up all the good air, eat up all the food, and in general burden society at large with their very existence. "Just look at Africa," they say. "All those children starving to death when a hefty dose of birth control pills would've nipped that problem in the bud."
If no more children were born in Africa would things magically improve? Would its various economies rebound and ethnic fighting cease? Would AIDS vanish?
No, because too many of Africa's ills are the outgrowth of decades of tribal disputes and governmental abuses that are so deeply entrenched they are nigh impossible to root out and resolve. Babies are not the problem in Africa, grownups are.
Babies aren't the problem in other countries, either. In fact, there is a dawning realization that they may be the answer if certain cultures are to survive.
In Japan, in Russia, and in much of Western Europe, the birth rate has fallen so sharply over the past several decades that their populations are at or below replacement levels. A population heavy with aged people cannot sustain itself. Who will work in the factories and fields? Who will pay into pension systems? Who will occupy schools and churches and preserve heritages and languages if everyone ages and dies out and there's no one to follow?
Immigration is proving to be the answer to the dilemma in parts of Europe and in the U.S. People from largely Catholic Mexico come to America, legally or not, and fill our cities, schools and communities. Muslims, traditionally inclined against limiting family size, are immigrating into England and France, providing children who will someday be young adults to work the jobs that pay into the pensions of the elderly. The cultures of countries heavy on immigration are beginning to change and that's fine as long as everyone understands what this means for the outgoing society.
Some folks are way too quick to assume that babies and children are one of life's biggest burdens, the inconvenience to end all inconveniences, a circumstance to be endured or tolerated until it improves by virtue of the kids growing up.
I feel sorry for them.
The next time you encounter a larger than average family, especially one with well behaved or helpful children, take a minute to say something nice to the parents. Chances are, they've heard their fair share of ugly remarks as each baby was born, and your kind words will be a sort of affirmation that neither they nor God made a mistake. Chances are that while their many children may indeed pose challenges that the parent of one or two doesn't have, those parents may find something so rewarding in all of it that the tough times are a small price to pay for the privilege of raising a basketball team.
I propose that any child is a gift from God and, further, that this world would be a jawdroppingly amazing place if every government, every military, every educator, every clergyperson, every citizen really believed it and dealt with children and their families accordingly.
Maybe then Africa wouldn't flounder, Europe wouldn't fade, and those of us with more than 2.3 children wouldn't be called rabbits, rednecks, irresponsible or just downright stupid.
More on this topic in future 'blogs.
December 7, 2008
Revisionism Eats The Language
So much for the bastion of higher learning. Oxford University and its publishing house have decided to do away with a boatload of words in one of its children's dictionaries in an effort to make the book more contemporary and reflective of the multicultural society in which the British now live.
They have my sympathies if this means they lose their sense of heritage as preserved by their language.
Read on, dear visitor, as I have pasted in verbatim the story from the UK's Telegraph newspaper. (Note to Telegraph, please don't nail me for copyright infringement. I'm in Texas, for pete's sake and haven't got a way to buy a copy of the paper for everyone who might be reading this 'blog.)
Words associated with Christianity and British history taken out of children's dictionary
Words associated with Christianity, the monarchy and British history have been dropped from a leading dictionary for children.
Julie Henry, Education Correspondent Last Updated: 2:47PM GMT 07 Dec 2008
Westminster Abbey may be one of Britain's most famous landmarks, but the word abbey has been removed from the Oxford Junior Dictionary. Photo: Dean and Chapter of Westminster
Instead, words such as 'MP3 player', 'voicemail' and 'attachment' have been included. Photo: GETTY IMAGES
Oxford University Press has removed words like "aisle", "bishop", "chapel", "empire" and "monarch" from its Junior Dictionary and replaced them with words like "blog", "broadband" and "celebrity". Dozens of words related to the countryside have also been culled.
The publisher claims the changes have been made to reflect the fact that Britain is a modern, multicultural, multifaith society.
But academics and head teachers said that the changes to the 10,000 word Junior Dictionary could mean that children lose touch with Britain's heritage.
"We have a certain Christian narrative which has given meaning to us over the last 2,000 years. To say it is all relative and replaceable is questionable," said Professor Alan Smithers, the director of the centre for education and employment at Buckingham University. "The word selections are a very interesting reflection of the way childhood is going, moving away from our spiritual background and the natural world and towards the world that information technology creates for us."
An analysis of the word choices made by the dictionary lexicographers has revealed that entries from "abbey" to "willow" have been axed. Instead, words such as "MP3 player", "voicemail" and "attachment" have taken their place.
Lisa Saunders, a worried mother who has painstakingly compared entries from the junior dictionaries, aimed at children aged seven or over, dating from 1978, 1995, 2000, 2002, 2003 and 2007, said she was "horrified" by the vast number of words that have been removed, most since 2003.
"The Christian faith still has a strong following," she said. "To eradicate so many words associated with the Christianity will have a big effect on the numerous primary schools who use it."
Ms Saunders realised words were being removed when she was helping her son with his homework and discovered that "moss" and "fern", which were in editions up until 2003, were no longer listed.
"I decide to take a closer look and compare the new version to the other editions," said the mother of four from Co Down, Northern Ireland. "I was completely horrified by the vast number of words which have been removed. We know that language moves on and we can't be fuddy-duddy about it but you don't cull hundreds of important words in order to get in a different set of ICT words."
Anthony Seldon, the master of Wellington College, a leading private school in Berkshire, said: "I am stunned that words like "saint", "buttercup", "heather" and "sycamore" have all gone and I grieve it.
"I think as well as being descriptive, the Oxford Junior Dictionary, has to be prescriptive too, suggesting not just words that are used but words that should be used. It has a duty to keep these words within usage, not merely pander to an audience. We are looking at the loss of words of great beauty. I would rather have "marzipan" and "mistletoe" then "MP3 player."
Oxford University Press, which produces the junior edition, selects words with the aid of the Children's Corpus, a list of about 50 million words made up of general language, words from children's books and terms related to the school curriculum. Lexicographers consider word frequency when making additions and deletions.
Vineeta Gupta, the head of children's dictionaries at Oxford University Press, said: "We are limited by how big the dictionary can be – little hands must be able to handle it – but we produce 17 children's dictionaries with different selections and numbers of words.
"When you look back at older versions of dictionaries, there were lots of examples of flowers for instance. That was because many children lived in semi-rural environments and saw the seasons. Nowadays, the environment has changed. We are also much more multicultural. People don't go to Church as often as before. Our understanding of religion is within multiculturalism, which is why some words such as "Pentecost" or "Whitsun" would have been in 20 years ago but not now."
She said children's dictionaries were trailed in schools and advice taken from teachers. Many words are added to reflect the age-related school curriculum.
Words taken out:
Carol, cracker, holly, ivy, mistletoe
Dwarf, elf, goblin
Abbey, aisle, altar, bishop, chapel, christen, disciple, minister, monastery, monk, nun, nunnery, parish, pew, psalm, pulpit, saint, sin, devil, vicar
Coronation, duchess, duke, emperor, empire, monarch, decade
adder, ass, beaver, boar, budgerigar, bullock, cheetah, colt, corgi, cygnet, doe, drake, ferret, gerbil, goldfish, guinea pig, hamster, heron, herring, kingfisher, lark, leopard, lobster, magpie, minnow, mussel, newt, otter, ox, oyster, panther, pelican, piglet, plaice, poodle, porcupine, porpoise, raven, spaniel, starling, stoat, stork, terrapin, thrush, weasel, wren.
Acorn, allotment, almond, apricot, ash, bacon, beech, beetroot, blackberry, blacksmith, bloom, bluebell, bramble, bran, bray, bridle, brook, buttercup, canary, canter, carnation, catkin, cauliflower, chestnut, clover, conker, county, cowslip, crocus, dandelion, diesel, fern, fungus, gooseberry, gorse, hazel, hazelnut, heather, holly, horse chestnut, ivy, lavender, leek, liquorice, manger, marzipan, melon, minnow, mint, nectar, nectarine, oats, pansy, parsnip, pasture, poppy, porridge, poultry, primrose, prune, radish, rhubarb, sheaf, spinach, sycamore, tulip, turnip, vine, violet, walnut, willow
Words put in:
Blog, broadband, MP3 player, voicemail, attachment, database, export, chatroom, bullet point, cut and paste, analogue
Celebrity, tolerant, vandalism, negotiate, interdependent, creep, citizenship, childhood, conflict, common sense, debate, EU, drought, brainy, boisterous, cautionary tale, bilingual, bungee jumping, committee, compulsory, cope, democratic, allergic, biodegradable, emotion, dyslexic, donate, endangered, Euro
Apparatus, food chain, incisor, square number, trapezium, alliteration, colloquial, idiom, curriculum, classify, chronological, block graph
END OF NEWS STORY
I've said it before and I'll say it again, our cultural heritage is under fire that shows no sign of letting up anytime soon.
Guard your children's minds and the dictionaries that feed them!
They have my sympathies if this means they lose their sense of heritage as preserved by their language.
Read on, dear visitor, as I have pasted in verbatim the story from the UK's Telegraph newspaper. (Note to Telegraph, please don't nail me for copyright infringement. I'm in Texas, for pete's sake and haven't got a way to buy a copy of the paper for everyone who might be reading this 'blog.)
Words associated with Christianity and British history taken out of children's dictionary
Words associated with Christianity, the monarchy and British history have been dropped from a leading dictionary for children.
Julie Henry, Education Correspondent Last Updated: 2:47PM GMT 07 Dec 2008
Westminster Abbey may be one of Britain's most famous landmarks, but the word abbey has been removed from the Oxford Junior Dictionary. Photo: Dean and Chapter of Westminster
Instead, words such as 'MP3 player', 'voicemail' and 'attachment' have been included. Photo: GETTY IMAGES
Oxford University Press has removed words like "aisle", "bishop", "chapel", "empire" and "monarch" from its Junior Dictionary and replaced them with words like "blog", "broadband" and "celebrity". Dozens of words related to the countryside have also been culled.
The publisher claims the changes have been made to reflect the fact that Britain is a modern, multicultural, multifaith society.
But academics and head teachers said that the changes to the 10,000 word Junior Dictionary could mean that children lose touch with Britain's heritage.
"We have a certain Christian narrative which has given meaning to us over the last 2,000 years. To say it is all relative and replaceable is questionable," said Professor Alan Smithers, the director of the centre for education and employment at Buckingham University. "The word selections are a very interesting reflection of the way childhood is going, moving away from our spiritual background and the natural world and towards the world that information technology creates for us."
An analysis of the word choices made by the dictionary lexicographers has revealed that entries from "abbey" to "willow" have been axed. Instead, words such as "MP3 player", "voicemail" and "attachment" have taken their place.
Lisa Saunders, a worried mother who has painstakingly compared entries from the junior dictionaries, aimed at children aged seven or over, dating from 1978, 1995, 2000, 2002, 2003 and 2007, said she was "horrified" by the vast number of words that have been removed, most since 2003.
"The Christian faith still has a strong following," she said. "To eradicate so many words associated with the Christianity will have a big effect on the numerous primary schools who use it."
Ms Saunders realised words were being removed when she was helping her son with his homework and discovered that "moss" and "fern", which were in editions up until 2003, were no longer listed.
"I decide to take a closer look and compare the new version to the other editions," said the mother of four from Co Down, Northern Ireland. "I was completely horrified by the vast number of words which have been removed. We know that language moves on and we can't be fuddy-duddy about it but you don't cull hundreds of important words in order to get in a different set of ICT words."
Anthony Seldon, the master of Wellington College, a leading private school in Berkshire, said: "I am stunned that words like "saint", "buttercup", "heather" and "sycamore" have all gone and I grieve it.
"I think as well as being descriptive, the Oxford Junior Dictionary, has to be prescriptive too, suggesting not just words that are used but words that should be used. It has a duty to keep these words within usage, not merely pander to an audience. We are looking at the loss of words of great beauty. I would rather have "marzipan" and "mistletoe" then "MP3 player."
Oxford University Press, which produces the junior edition, selects words with the aid of the Children's Corpus, a list of about 50 million words made up of general language, words from children's books and terms related to the school curriculum. Lexicographers consider word frequency when making additions and deletions.
Vineeta Gupta, the head of children's dictionaries at Oxford University Press, said: "We are limited by how big the dictionary can be – little hands must be able to handle it – but we produce 17 children's dictionaries with different selections and numbers of words.
"When you look back at older versions of dictionaries, there were lots of examples of flowers for instance. That was because many children lived in semi-rural environments and saw the seasons. Nowadays, the environment has changed. We are also much more multicultural. People don't go to Church as often as before. Our understanding of religion is within multiculturalism, which is why some words such as "Pentecost" or "Whitsun" would have been in 20 years ago but not now."
She said children's dictionaries were trailed in schools and advice taken from teachers. Many words are added to reflect the age-related school curriculum.
Words taken out:
Carol, cracker, holly, ivy, mistletoe
Dwarf, elf, goblin
Abbey, aisle, altar, bishop, chapel, christen, disciple, minister, monastery, monk, nun, nunnery, parish, pew, psalm, pulpit, saint, sin, devil, vicar
Coronation, duchess, duke, emperor, empire, monarch, decade
adder, ass, beaver, boar, budgerigar, bullock, cheetah, colt, corgi, cygnet, doe, drake, ferret, gerbil, goldfish, guinea pig, hamster, heron, herring, kingfisher, lark, leopard, lobster, magpie, minnow, mussel, newt, otter, ox, oyster, panther, pelican, piglet, plaice, poodle, porcupine, porpoise, raven, spaniel, starling, stoat, stork, terrapin, thrush, weasel, wren.
Acorn, allotment, almond, apricot, ash, bacon, beech, beetroot, blackberry, blacksmith, bloom, bluebell, bramble, bran, bray, bridle, brook, buttercup, canary, canter, carnation, catkin, cauliflower, chestnut, clover, conker, county, cowslip, crocus, dandelion, diesel, fern, fungus, gooseberry, gorse, hazel, hazelnut, heather, holly, horse chestnut, ivy, lavender, leek, liquorice, manger, marzipan, melon, minnow, mint, nectar, nectarine, oats, pansy, parsnip, pasture, poppy, porridge, poultry, primrose, prune, radish, rhubarb, sheaf, spinach, sycamore, tulip, turnip, vine, violet, walnut, willow
Words put in:
Blog, broadband, MP3 player, voicemail, attachment, database, export, chatroom, bullet point, cut and paste, analogue
Celebrity, tolerant, vandalism, negotiate, interdependent, creep, citizenship, childhood, conflict, common sense, debate, EU, drought, brainy, boisterous, cautionary tale, bilingual, bungee jumping, committee, compulsory, cope, democratic, allergic, biodegradable, emotion, dyslexic, donate, endangered, Euro
Apparatus, food chain, incisor, square number, trapezium, alliteration, colloquial, idiom, curriculum, classify, chronological, block graph
END OF NEWS STORY
I've said it before and I'll say it again, our cultural heritage is under fire that shows no sign of letting up anytime soon.
Guard your children's minds and the dictionaries that feed them!
Animal control out of control
The Houston Chronicle has been following a story of some worth to this writer, that of the deplorable state of affairs at the City of Houston's Bureau of Animal Regulation and Care (BARC), a euphemism for The Dog Pound.
I used to work as an animal cruelty investigator for one of Houston's largest shelters and, later, as a volunteer for a poor small shelter down in Galveston County. At both places I either participated in or witnessed the destruction of healthy dogs and cats. Needless to say, the experience left me embittered for many years towards a large chunk of the human race.
But back to the topic.
It seems that in addition to killing thousands upon thousands of adoptable dogs and cats, BARC has had trouble training its employees to use a computerized system to keep track of the body count.
The whole department is a mess and a new director has the unenviable job of trying to sort it out. May God give her the strength for THIS assignment.
I'm glad the Chronicle is covering the story about BARC's failure to keep good records. But I'm sorry the real story is being buried in the process.
What is the real story?
That in the 21 century we still cannot, as a people, figure out a way to keep our dogs and cats from breeding such that their offpspring overrun shelters and pounds and end up as a pile of corpses to be bagged for the landfill.
That far too many veterinarians who could make their big money on a host of other procedures continue to make spaying or neutering people's pets so impossibly expensive that most folks just don't bother (or can't afford) to have it done.
That, as I just finished blogging, our culture's love of status and trend compels people to do ridiculous things in an effort to get the latest popular breed as if it were a fashion accessory rather than a living creature and then turn around and breed said popular animal in hopes of making some money from the sale of its puppies or kittens.
If I had a dollar for EVERY SINGLE PUREBRED ANIMAL I SAW COME THROUGH THE ANIMAL SHELTER DOORS COMPLETE WITH PAPERS OF AUTHENTICATION I could endow my own animal shelter in perpetuity.
That's right, folks. So-called "valuable" animals, animals that someone paid a lot of money for, end up just as abandoned and just as dead in shelters all across this country as their mutty mixed-breed peers because their humans were too greedy to prevent a glut.
Surely the world wants or needs one more poodle-poo, chowdle, rottsschaund or some other such ridiculous and Frankensteinian hybrid, right?
It's been a long time since I've stood up on my Spay/Neuter soapbox. I thank the Chronicle for giving me the inspiration to do so. This feels good and it'll be worth my while if just one dog or cat gets "fixed" as a result of someone reading this entry.
I used to work as an animal cruelty investigator for one of Houston's largest shelters and, later, as a volunteer for a poor small shelter down in Galveston County. At both places I either participated in or witnessed the destruction of healthy dogs and cats. Needless to say, the experience left me embittered for many years towards a large chunk of the human race.
But back to the topic.
It seems that in addition to killing thousands upon thousands of adoptable dogs and cats, BARC has had trouble training its employees to use a computerized system to keep track of the body count.
The whole department is a mess and a new director has the unenviable job of trying to sort it out. May God give her the strength for THIS assignment.
I'm glad the Chronicle is covering the story about BARC's failure to keep good records. But I'm sorry the real story is being buried in the process.
What is the real story?
That in the 21 century we still cannot, as a people, figure out a way to keep our dogs and cats from breeding such that their offpspring overrun shelters and pounds and end up as a pile of corpses to be bagged for the landfill.
That far too many veterinarians who could make their big money on a host of other procedures continue to make spaying or neutering people's pets so impossibly expensive that most folks just don't bother (or can't afford) to have it done.
That, as I just finished blogging, our culture's love of status and trend compels people to do ridiculous things in an effort to get the latest popular breed as if it were a fashion accessory rather than a living creature and then turn around and breed said popular animal in hopes of making some money from the sale of its puppies or kittens.
If I had a dollar for EVERY SINGLE PUREBRED ANIMAL I SAW COME THROUGH THE ANIMAL SHELTER DOORS COMPLETE WITH PAPERS OF AUTHENTICATION I could endow my own animal shelter in perpetuity.
That's right, folks. So-called "valuable" animals, animals that someone paid a lot of money for, end up just as abandoned and just as dead in shelters all across this country as their mutty mixed-breed peers because their humans were too greedy to prevent a glut.
Surely the world wants or needs one more poodle-poo, chowdle, rottsschaund or some other such ridiculous and Frankensteinian hybrid, right?
It's been a long time since I've stood up on my Spay/Neuter soapbox. I thank the Chronicle for giving me the inspiration to do so. This feels good and it'll be worth my while if just one dog or cat gets "fixed" as a result of someone reading this entry.
A pox on our passion for worldly things
A reader of this 'blog who shall remain nameless but is no less appreciated for her interest queried me about the story of the Black Friday stampede up in New York that killed a Walmart employee as more than 2000 shoppers ripped the store's doors off their hinges in a frantic attempt to get a good deal.
What might I say about this, she wanted to know.
This 'blogging site can't give me enough space to say what I really want to say about it. My trusty thesaurus leaves me virtually wordless. Adjectives like horrific, abhorrent, sickening, angry, furious, just don't cut it.
So when unable to draw upon my feeble human abilities to get something done, I do what I've done most of my life, I call down inspiration from The One Who Made Me.
And He reminds me of the poem by William Wordsworth titled, "The World Is Too Much With Us."
In the poem, Wordsworth laments the waste of lives and time on things that are not eternal, that do not reflect some aspect of eternality.
"The world is too much with us,
Late and soon, getting and spending,
We lay waste our powers.
Little we see in Nature that is ours.
We have given our hearts away,
A sordid boon."
There's more, but the first stanza says it best.
Our culture in general has abandoned its spiritual life in favor of the things of the world. And anyone who's ever read what the Bible has to say about this tendency knows that when this happens, all hell is sure to break loose.
Sodom and Gomorrah with its loves of vice and idol worship was destroyed.
Egypt was so in love with its slavery that it endured plague after plague until it gave up the Hebrews.
The children of Israel were made to drink water made bitter by a ground up golden calf after Moses caught them worshipping the statue instead of You Know Who.
And in what is perhaps THE most famous example of soul selling for worldly gain, we have Judas Iscariot who chose to betray a friend for thirty pieces of silver.
Not unlike the hordes at Walmart who cared more about bargains on cheap junk from China than their own integrity, common sense, and compassion for another human being.
The world IS too much with us. What can we do to make it go away?
What might I say about this, she wanted to know.
This 'blogging site can't give me enough space to say what I really want to say about it. My trusty thesaurus leaves me virtually wordless. Adjectives like horrific, abhorrent, sickening, angry, furious, just don't cut it.
So when unable to draw upon my feeble human abilities to get something done, I do what I've done most of my life, I call down inspiration from The One Who Made Me.
And He reminds me of the poem by William Wordsworth titled, "The World Is Too Much With Us."
In the poem, Wordsworth laments the waste of lives and time on things that are not eternal, that do not reflect some aspect of eternality.
"The world is too much with us,
Late and soon, getting and spending,
We lay waste our powers.
Little we see in Nature that is ours.
We have given our hearts away,
A sordid boon."
There's more, but the first stanza says it best.
Our culture in general has abandoned its spiritual life in favor of the things of the world. And anyone who's ever read what the Bible has to say about this tendency knows that when this happens, all hell is sure to break loose.
Sodom and Gomorrah with its loves of vice and idol worship was destroyed.
Egypt was so in love with its slavery that it endured plague after plague until it gave up the Hebrews.
The children of Israel were made to drink water made bitter by a ground up golden calf after Moses caught them worshipping the statue instead of You Know Who.
And in what is perhaps THE most famous example of soul selling for worldly gain, we have Judas Iscariot who chose to betray a friend for thirty pieces of silver.
Not unlike the hordes at Walmart who cared more about bargains on cheap junk from China than their own integrity, common sense, and compassion for another human being.
The world IS too much with us. What can we do to make it go away?
I don't hate Muslims, I hate what they believe
Hate. It's a strong word and one I don't throw around lightly unless I'm really, really frustrated or really, really angry. I don't let my children use the word and I try very hard to never utter it in their presence. Fortunately, none of them has access to a computer or this 'blog so I am free to speak plainly.
I hate it that Islam teaches hatred of others based solely on their religion.
There, it's out. I've said it and I'm not taking it back.
Islam teaches hatred of Jews just becaues they are Jewish. It teaches hatred of Christians just because they are Christian. I'm assuming they probably hate Buddhists and Hindus for similar reasons.
That adds up to a lot of hatred, dear readers.
How then, are we supposed to accept this as a religion of peace? In what sense? To what end?
World Net Daily, an online news source with an admittedly conservative bent, reports tonight on an Egyptian Muslim cleric whose televised plea to our president elect to convert to Islam and get his armies out of the Midde East includes the following comments. They were translated from the Arabic by the Middle East Media Research Institute, an independent non-partisan research group.
Cleric Hassan Abu al-Ashbal says:
"In religions other than Islam there is utter humiliation, even if you are the president of the entire world."
He also says: "Know that the true religion is the religion of Islam, and all other religions are fabricated religions, which are null and void – religions that were abrogated by the shari'a of Muhammad."
How nice.
I'm not up to speed on who this guy is in terms of his geopolitical significance, but I use his remarks to illustrate my earlier gripe about hatred spewing forth from a religion that its apologists shrug off as being just like any other.
Will our new president take the bait and conver to Islam? I doubt it. I doubt it because he doesn't strike me as the type who would want to ascribe to a faith that denegrates women and girls -- his wife and two daughters.
No, I think Obama has more sense than that.
What a pity, though, that too many others do not.
I hate it that Islam teaches hatred of others based solely on their religion.
There, it's out. I've said it and I'm not taking it back.
Islam teaches hatred of Jews just becaues they are Jewish. It teaches hatred of Christians just because they are Christian. I'm assuming they probably hate Buddhists and Hindus for similar reasons.
That adds up to a lot of hatred, dear readers.
How then, are we supposed to accept this as a religion of peace? In what sense? To what end?
World Net Daily, an online news source with an admittedly conservative bent, reports tonight on an Egyptian Muslim cleric whose televised plea to our president elect to convert to Islam and get his armies out of the Midde East includes the following comments. They were translated from the Arabic by the Middle East Media Research Institute, an independent non-partisan research group.
Cleric Hassan Abu al-Ashbal says:
"In religions other than Islam there is utter humiliation, even if you are the president of the entire world."
He also says: "Know that the true religion is the religion of Islam, and all other religions are fabricated religions, which are null and void – religions that were abrogated by the shari'a of Muhammad."
How nice.
I'm not up to speed on who this guy is in terms of his geopolitical significance, but I use his remarks to illustrate my earlier gripe about hatred spewing forth from a religion that its apologists shrug off as being just like any other.
Will our new president take the bait and conver to Islam? I doubt it. I doubt it because he doesn't strike me as the type who would want to ascribe to a faith that denegrates women and girls -- his wife and two daughters.
No, I think Obama has more sense than that.
What a pity, though, that too many others do not.
December 6, 2008
Fighting for Christmas, anyone with me?
The past three or four years have found me gearing up for Christmas in ways I never thought I'd have to.
Instead of merely buying cards into which I insert my children's picture to send to relatives and friends, I have to make up my own and have them printed for me. The problem? Finding preprinted greeting cards that actually say MERRY CHRISTMAS.
Two years ago I went into my local Hallmark store thinking I'd pick up a couple of boxes of those frame cards, the ones you slip standard 4" x 6" pbotos into. I wanted them to say MERRY CHRISTMAS because I'd become sensitized to the vanishing of the religious bent of the season in such places as Walmart -- whose campaign to make it a Happy Holiday drew such fire they subsequently played CHRISTMAS music in their stores and reprinted their signage.
But try as I might, Hallmark couldn't deliver. Shelf upon shelf of beautifully illustrated cards that said everything from, "'Tis the season" and "Happy Holidays" to "This time of year is so special" and some mumbo jumbo about winter.
What season? Which holiday? What time of year? Winter? Are they serious? We're in south Texas where winter is little more than a two-page spread in a coffee table book about polar bears or Russia.
CHRISTMAS has become the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room. Merchants tiptoe around it, public schools dare not whisper its name, and even privately owned companies think twice before putting up wreaths or trees.
CHRISTMAS means many things to many people but for some weird reason its spiritual significance is its cultural downfall.
I am always amused by those who profess no religion yet get so balled up at those of us who do. If you don't believe in God or in the life and teachings of Jesus, why should a tinsel-draped tree make you grit your teeth?
I don't eat meat, but I don't become apoplectic when I see longhorn cattle grazing in a field near my house.
I don't like football but I don't puke and pass out at the sight of someone wearing a Texans jersey at the grocery store.
I don't drink alcohol and have, for most of my life, quietly endured gnarly tacky billboards advertising everything from Spuds Mackenzie in a speedo to slinky women in erotic poses with bottles of wine.
I don't speak Japanese but for three years worked in an environment surrounded by those who did. They often forgot I didn't know their language and would start talking to me in Japanese before switching halfway through to English. Did this piss me off? Nope, not one bit. It was their office, they could speak as they wished as long as I got paid.
So where in the world are all these whiny athiests and so-called multiculturalists coming from that they feel compelled to ruin a holiday loved and observed by more than 70 percent of Americans?
And can we send them back?
Meanwhile, I'm plotting my attack on political correctness run amok. When cashiers in stores say, "Happy Holidays," I will be responding with, "MERRY CHRISTMAS." When I'm signing a card for someone I'll write the same. And I'm forgoing the trend of adorning my front lawn with santas and Peanuts characters and light-up reindeer in lieu of a nativity scene. Yep, got my three-piece Holy Family ready to go.
You may laugh, but Jesus IS the reason for the season, and I'd be a traitor to my faith -- and a big fat liar -- if I played it any other way.
happy
Instead of merely buying cards into which I insert my children's picture to send to relatives and friends, I have to make up my own and have them printed for me. The problem? Finding preprinted greeting cards that actually say MERRY CHRISTMAS.
Two years ago I went into my local Hallmark store thinking I'd pick up a couple of boxes of those frame cards, the ones you slip standard 4" x 6" pbotos into. I wanted them to say MERRY CHRISTMAS because I'd become sensitized to the vanishing of the religious bent of the season in such places as Walmart -- whose campaign to make it a Happy Holiday drew such fire they subsequently played CHRISTMAS music in their stores and reprinted their signage.
But try as I might, Hallmark couldn't deliver. Shelf upon shelf of beautifully illustrated cards that said everything from, "'Tis the season" and "Happy Holidays" to "This time of year is so special" and some mumbo jumbo about winter.
What season? Which holiday? What time of year? Winter? Are they serious? We're in south Texas where winter is little more than a two-page spread in a coffee table book about polar bears or Russia.
CHRISTMAS has become the proverbial elephant in the middle of the room. Merchants tiptoe around it, public schools dare not whisper its name, and even privately owned companies think twice before putting up wreaths or trees.
CHRISTMAS means many things to many people but for some weird reason its spiritual significance is its cultural downfall.
I am always amused by those who profess no religion yet get so balled up at those of us who do. If you don't believe in God or in the life and teachings of Jesus, why should a tinsel-draped tree make you grit your teeth?
I don't eat meat, but I don't become apoplectic when I see longhorn cattle grazing in a field near my house.
I don't like football but I don't puke and pass out at the sight of someone wearing a Texans jersey at the grocery store.
I don't drink alcohol and have, for most of my life, quietly endured gnarly tacky billboards advertising everything from Spuds Mackenzie in a speedo to slinky women in erotic poses with bottles of wine.
I don't speak Japanese but for three years worked in an environment surrounded by those who did. They often forgot I didn't know their language and would start talking to me in Japanese before switching halfway through to English. Did this piss me off? Nope, not one bit. It was their office, they could speak as they wished as long as I got paid.
So where in the world are all these whiny athiests and so-called multiculturalists coming from that they feel compelled to ruin a holiday loved and observed by more than 70 percent of Americans?
And can we send them back?
Meanwhile, I'm plotting my attack on political correctness run amok. When cashiers in stores say, "Happy Holidays," I will be responding with, "MERRY CHRISTMAS." When I'm signing a card for someone I'll write the same. And I'm forgoing the trend of adorning my front lawn with santas and Peanuts characters and light-up reindeer in lieu of a nativity scene. Yep, got my three-piece Holy Family ready to go.
You may laugh, but Jesus IS the reason for the season, and I'd be a traitor to my faith -- and a big fat liar -- if I played it any other way.
happy
December 3, 2008
I didn't know Rivka Holtzberg . . .
but I think I would have liked to. She was a mother, just like me. She had a little boy, just like me. She was six months pregnant with her fourth child, just like I once was. She was probably very much like most other mothers of young children I've known since becoming a parent myself nearly nine years ago -- eager to talk about her kids, pregnancy and childbirth, the ups and downs of managing a family with a little one underfoot, the amazing things little children do and say. She had already lost one son to a rare blood disorder and another son was back in Israel in critical condition with the same problem, so her heart was likely torn between the joy of an impending birth and the anxiety that comes from mothering a child with special needs.
Rivka Holtzberg will never have those conversations again nor will her little boys ever know their brother or sister.
Rivka, 28, was tortured and killed along with her husband and many others by Muslim extremists in Mumbai the week of Thanksgiving.
Some were killed because of their real or perceived ties to the West. But Rivka and her rabbi husband were likely killed because they were Jewish.
The story was already bad enough to me, but today a photo of little Moshe Holtzberg -- now orphaned in the name of Allah -- was released. It shows a curly headed toddler clutching a miniature basketball, his face contorted in the wail only a broken heart can inspire. The accompanying story says he repeatedly called his mother's name even as she was being eulogized in Mumbai and his cries eloquently underscored the barbarity of the attacks. The man holding him in the photo is an Indian, his relationship to the child is not explained in the photo caption, and his face is a mixture of resignation and sadness.
It's hard to hold on to a struggling crying child. I know, I've done it in restaurants, church services, the dentist's office. It takes strength and patience that even the most dedicated parent finds hard to come by at times. How much harder it must be when your own heart is also heavy!
Who could stand to hear the cries of a child whose singlemost desire -- to see his mother or father again -- cannot be met?
The terrorist thug who survived should be forced to listen to an audiotape of Moshe Holtzberg's broken heart 24 hours a day for the rest of his life. That might prove to be a punishment much more torturous than death.
Rivka Holtzberg will never have those conversations again nor will her little boys ever know their brother or sister.
Rivka, 28, was tortured and killed along with her husband and many others by Muslim extremists in Mumbai the week of Thanksgiving.
Some were killed because of their real or perceived ties to the West. But Rivka and her rabbi husband were likely killed because they were Jewish.
The story was already bad enough to me, but today a photo of little Moshe Holtzberg -- now orphaned in the name of Allah -- was released. It shows a curly headed toddler clutching a miniature basketball, his face contorted in the wail only a broken heart can inspire. The accompanying story says he repeatedly called his mother's name even as she was being eulogized in Mumbai and his cries eloquently underscored the barbarity of the attacks. The man holding him in the photo is an Indian, his relationship to the child is not explained in the photo caption, and his face is a mixture of resignation and sadness.
It's hard to hold on to a struggling crying child. I know, I've done it in restaurants, church services, the dentist's office. It takes strength and patience that even the most dedicated parent finds hard to come by at times. How much harder it must be when your own heart is also heavy!
Who could stand to hear the cries of a child whose singlemost desire -- to see his mother or father again -- cannot be met?
The terrorist thug who survived should be forced to listen to an audiotape of Moshe Holtzberg's broken heart 24 hours a day for the rest of his life. That might prove to be a punishment much more torturous than death.
December 2, 2008
Even coloring books aren't safe . . .
from historical revisionism. Case in point, the "Story of the Pilgrims" coloring book published by Dover of which I bought two copies for my daughters to use as part of our November studies leading up to Thanksgiving.
The "story" as told by the creators of these visually appealing books has a huge gaping hole in it.
It seems as though the Pilgrims were nothing more than a bunch of restless hippie-types who just "wanted to be free."
You know, leave behind their businesses, their homes and schools, their families, their familiar lives just to spend 66 days on a cramped, wet, dark, and sea-tossed boat on its way to a land of snakes, snow, and potentially hostile indians.
Groovy, man.
In reality, for anyone reading this who may have received their American history education from the likes of a Dover coloring book, the Pilgrims were originally the Separatists of England who did not want to attend the state church and thus endured all sorts of penalties -- jail time, fines, confiscations -- to worship according to their interpretation of the Bible. When their foray into Holland didn't work out, they gambled on God and stuffed themselves into the Mayflower for an arduous journey to a place where religious freedom was possible.
IT WAS ALL ABOUT RELIGIOUS FREEDOM, but you'd never know this by reading the Dover coloring book.
Infuriated, I fired off a letter to Dover, grilled my girls extensively on their understanding of the reason behind the Pilgrims' journey and the First Thanksgiving, and then relegated the coloring books to the bin where we keep miscellaneous coloring and activity books "just for scribbling and fun."
I could not, in good conscience, incorporate the misleading story into our academic studies although in a way I did just that.
I used the books to teach my daughters about historical revisionism and the importance of reading with a critical eye. I shared with them my personal opinion as to why Dover left out this key information and reminded them that a lie by omission is as bad as a lie by commission.
The "story" as told by the creators of these visually appealing books has a huge gaping hole in it.
It seems as though the Pilgrims were nothing more than a bunch of restless hippie-types who just "wanted to be free."
You know, leave behind their businesses, their homes and schools, their families, their familiar lives just to spend 66 days on a cramped, wet, dark, and sea-tossed boat on its way to a land of snakes, snow, and potentially hostile indians.
Groovy, man.
In reality, for anyone reading this who may have received their American history education from the likes of a Dover coloring book, the Pilgrims were originally the Separatists of England who did not want to attend the state church and thus endured all sorts of penalties -- jail time, fines, confiscations -- to worship according to their interpretation of the Bible. When their foray into Holland didn't work out, they gambled on God and stuffed themselves into the Mayflower for an arduous journey to a place where religious freedom was possible.
IT WAS ALL ABOUT RELIGIOUS FREEDOM, but you'd never know this by reading the Dover coloring book.
Infuriated, I fired off a letter to Dover, grilled my girls extensively on their understanding of the reason behind the Pilgrims' journey and the First Thanksgiving, and then relegated the coloring books to the bin where we keep miscellaneous coloring and activity books "just for scribbling and fun."
I could not, in good conscience, incorporate the misleading story into our academic studies although in a way I did just that.
I used the books to teach my daughters about historical revisionism and the importance of reading with a critical eye. I shared with them my personal opinion as to why Dover left out this key information and reminded them that a lie by omission is as bad as a lie by commission.
December 1, 2008
Islam, the religion of what???
Oh yeah, how could I forget. Peace. It's all about peace. It's all about dedicated followers devoting themselves to lives of peace. It's like Buddhism or Jainism (they're the ones who won't even squash a bug and so sweep the ground before them as they walk to prevent needless insecticides) or Christianity or Judaism. It's JUST like all of those, really.
Really not.
I've just finished reading the latest out of India as it collects itself following a series of well-planned, well-timed and unusually brutal terrorist attacks featuring, you guessed it, Muslim extremists.
Now these extremists weren't just out to ruin someone's holiday, mind you. They were out for blood, and the more of it the better. They were so vengeful, in fact, that targeting a Jewish cultural center wasn't enough. They had to torture those victims before they killed them. Among the dead was a young 20-something rabbi from Brooklyn and his wife. Their toddler son was rescued during the mayhem by an employee at the center.
Little Moshe Holtzberg's parents were so badly tortured before they were shot that the seasoned mortician who performed the autopsy says he will be traumatized for the rest of his life.
Ah, it's all about peace, right?
In one of the hotels, 17 victims were lined up and shot execution style. Peacefully, I presume.
And a porter who served a glass of water to one of the terrorists before the onslaught began was rewarded with a fatal shot to the forehead. Couldn't they have just tipped him instead? On second thought, that would not have been the peaceful thing to do.
If I hear one more apologist for contemporary Islam bring up the Crusades as some sort of sorry excuse for why it's okay for Muslim madmen (and women) to do what they do, I am going to FREAK OUT.
Enough about the Crusades already. The folks who died on 9/11/01 had NO connection to the events of a thousand plus years ago. Neither did the partygoers at the Bali nightclub, the soliders on the USS Cole, or Rabbi Gavriel Holtzberg and his wife Rivka.
I'd feel a whole lot better and a whole lot more loving towards my Muslim brothers and sisters on the whole if they would stand up worldwide and denounce the wingnuts who attacked in Mumbai. But their silence is deafening and so I am left with yet another bitter taste in my mouth when thinking about Islam.
It's a shame, really. Back in the 1980s when fundamentalist Christians were bombing abortion clinics and maiming or killing innocent bystanders and office workers or targeting the families of the doctors who were, let's face it, performing legally protected procedures (albeit horrific), I could not in good conscience stand with those morons as a fellow Christian and remain silent. They did not speak for me and I wanted people to know this. We may have had a religion in common, but our interpretation of the Scripture that reminds us to love one another was somehow vastly different. I never want someone killing in my name or trying to justify it in the name of my god.
Is it the same with most Muslims now? Is their understanding of their faith at odds with that of the Mumbai terrorists and are they planning to say so, or are they silently in solidarity with them?
The old saying goes something like this: If your religion makes you a better person than mine makes me, then you have the better religion.
The same, conversely, is also true.
None of this matters, though, to little Moshe who is still too young to understand why his mother and father will not come when he cries for them.
May God protect him always.
Really not.
I've just finished reading the latest out of India as it collects itself following a series of well-planned, well-timed and unusually brutal terrorist attacks featuring, you guessed it, Muslim extremists.
Now these extremists weren't just out to ruin someone's holiday, mind you. They were out for blood, and the more of it the better. They were so vengeful, in fact, that targeting a Jewish cultural center wasn't enough. They had to torture those victims before they killed them. Among the dead was a young 20-something rabbi from Brooklyn and his wife. Their toddler son was rescued during the mayhem by an employee at the center.
Little Moshe Holtzberg's parents were so badly tortured before they were shot that the seasoned mortician who performed the autopsy says he will be traumatized for the rest of his life.
Ah, it's all about peace, right?
In one of the hotels, 17 victims were lined up and shot execution style. Peacefully, I presume.
And a porter who served a glass of water to one of the terrorists before the onslaught began was rewarded with a fatal shot to the forehead. Couldn't they have just tipped him instead? On second thought, that would not have been the peaceful thing to do.
If I hear one more apologist for contemporary Islam bring up the Crusades as some sort of sorry excuse for why it's okay for Muslim madmen (and women) to do what they do, I am going to FREAK OUT.
Enough about the Crusades already. The folks who died on 9/11/01 had NO connection to the events of a thousand plus years ago. Neither did the partygoers at the Bali nightclub, the soliders on the USS Cole, or Rabbi Gavriel Holtzberg and his wife Rivka.
I'd feel a whole lot better and a whole lot more loving towards my Muslim brothers and sisters on the whole if they would stand up worldwide and denounce the wingnuts who attacked in Mumbai. But their silence is deafening and so I am left with yet another bitter taste in my mouth when thinking about Islam.
It's a shame, really. Back in the 1980s when fundamentalist Christians were bombing abortion clinics and maiming or killing innocent bystanders and office workers or targeting the families of the doctors who were, let's face it, performing legally protected procedures (albeit horrific), I could not in good conscience stand with those morons as a fellow Christian and remain silent. They did not speak for me and I wanted people to know this. We may have had a religion in common, but our interpretation of the Scripture that reminds us to love one another was somehow vastly different. I never want someone killing in my name or trying to justify it in the name of my god.
Is it the same with most Muslims now? Is their understanding of their faith at odds with that of the Mumbai terrorists and are they planning to say so, or are they silently in solidarity with them?
The old saying goes something like this: If your religion makes you a better person than mine makes me, then you have the better religion.
The same, conversely, is also true.
None of this matters, though, to little Moshe who is still too young to understand why his mother and father will not come when he cries for them.
May God protect him always.
I've got a lot to unload so. . .
stand by for the laundry list-like stream of 'blog entries that will be appearing over the next few days. My computer was kaput for most of October and November and only in recent days have I rediscovered the catharsis that is this 'blog.
Get ready as I rail against The Religion of Peace, historical revisionists, Disney, and ignorant pediatricians. Oh yeah, it's gonna feel grrreat!!!!!!!!!!!!
Get ready as I rail against The Religion of Peace, historical revisionists, Disney, and ignorant pediatricians. Oh yeah, it's gonna feel grrreat!!!!!!!!!!!!
September 23, 2008
Big guy, even bigger song
Unless you regularly tune in to your local contemporary Christian music radio station, it's likely you've never heard of Chris Sligh.
The singer from South Carolina is surprisingly average looking, a really big guy with wild curly hair reminisicent of the comedic singer Weird Al Yankovic. But it's not Chris Sligh's looks that nail you to your chair, it's his incredible voice and the haunting and poignant Top Ten single, "Empty Me."
I've been a radio junkie my whole life and I've wittingly or unwittingly absorbed into memory a library of lyrics from pretty much all genres. Where lyrics were absent, I filed away entire guitar riffs (think Eddie Van Halen's stunning solo on "Eruption"), piano concerto measures, and all manner of background instrumental bits (bluegrass guitarist Doc Watson and his son Merle rock the room with their dueling strings on the instrumental "Sheep in the Meadow.")
The first time I heard Sligh's "Empty Me," I nearly drove off the road I was listening so hard, not wanting to miss a single word.
When I got home I googled him and learned he was a contestant on American Idol's Season 6. I've never watched that show so that factoid didn't move me. Then I learned that "Empty Me" hit the big time long before our local CC radio station played it and I discovered it for myself. That just made me feel out of touch.
So what finally convinced me Sligh and his song were worth a second look?
Chubby dude sings like an angel. The ironic combination intrigued, to be sure, but in the end it's the words. Read a snippet and see if you don't agree Sligh is on to something. Better yet, visit YouTube and hear him sing it live.
Empty me of the selfishness inside
Every vain ambition and the poison of my pride
And any foolish thing my hearts holds to,
Lord, empty me of me so I can be filled with You.
The song is a prayer of the best kind -- humble, fervent, asking God to give nothing other than the capacity to understand Him more.
The Bible says that the more we come to know of God the less the things of the world will matter. In an age where financial debauchery is taking its toll on even the most affluent, people struggle to rebuild lives swept out to sea by a hurricane, and world leaders jockey for power and prestige even as their people go without, Chris Sligh's inspired and plaintive request is the voice of one crying in the wilderness.
As I go about my everyday tasks, I find myself replaying Sligh's petition to God.
His song has become my prayer.
The singer from South Carolina is surprisingly average looking, a really big guy with wild curly hair reminisicent of the comedic singer Weird Al Yankovic. But it's not Chris Sligh's looks that nail you to your chair, it's his incredible voice and the haunting and poignant Top Ten single, "Empty Me."
I've been a radio junkie my whole life and I've wittingly or unwittingly absorbed into memory a library of lyrics from pretty much all genres. Where lyrics were absent, I filed away entire guitar riffs (think Eddie Van Halen's stunning solo on "Eruption"), piano concerto measures, and all manner of background instrumental bits (bluegrass guitarist Doc Watson and his son Merle rock the room with their dueling strings on the instrumental "Sheep in the Meadow.")
The first time I heard Sligh's "Empty Me," I nearly drove off the road I was listening so hard, not wanting to miss a single word.
When I got home I googled him and learned he was a contestant on American Idol's Season 6. I've never watched that show so that factoid didn't move me. Then I learned that "Empty Me" hit the big time long before our local CC radio station played it and I discovered it for myself. That just made me feel out of touch.
So what finally convinced me Sligh and his song were worth a second look?
Chubby dude sings like an angel. The ironic combination intrigued, to be sure, but in the end it's the words. Read a snippet and see if you don't agree Sligh is on to something. Better yet, visit YouTube and hear him sing it live.
Empty me of the selfishness inside
Every vain ambition and the poison of my pride
And any foolish thing my hearts holds to,
Lord, empty me of me so I can be filled with You.
The song is a prayer of the best kind -- humble, fervent, asking God to give nothing other than the capacity to understand Him more.
The Bible says that the more we come to know of God the less the things of the world will matter. In an age where financial debauchery is taking its toll on even the most affluent, people struggle to rebuild lives swept out to sea by a hurricane, and world leaders jockey for power and prestige even as their people go without, Chris Sligh's inspired and plaintive request is the voice of one crying in the wilderness.
As I go about my everyday tasks, I find myself replaying Sligh's petition to God.
His song has become my prayer.
September 15, 2008
Galveston O Galveston
The sentiment of Glenn Campbell's famous song is perhaps more poignant than ever tonight as people south of here struggle to dig their way out from under the wreckage left by Hurricane Ike.
A childhood spent at Galveston beaches, parties with college friends, tours with my mom to the historic Strand district with its circa 1900s architecture and, more recently, vacations to the Island with my own children -- it's all in my mind and captured on film.
Tonight, many of those places have been swept out to sea. Others lie under several feet of muddy saltwater, their recovery possible, but light years away.
I grew up about 45 miles from the coast, and a trip to Galveston always promised big adventure. As a child, my folks driving me from the mainland over the big bridge to the island never failed to make my heart skip a few beats.
Water -- as far as the eye could see -- and boats, and funny little houses built on stilts, and seagulls and pelicans, and if I rolled down my window the sharp smell of salty sea air. I was never prepared for the most breathtaking sight of all, though. As we'd come up over the rise at Broadway, or at 61st St. or any of the streets in between that led to the Seawall, my little-kid mind would ready itself to behold the most massive and moving thing I knew.
The Gulf of Mexico. The ocean. The sea. The body of water pulled this way and that by the earth's rotation and its perpetual love affair with the moon.
My dad had been a Navy diver in his younger days as well as a meteorologist. I got many private tutorials in my early years about tides, currents, dangerous sea creatures, the relationship of the earth to the moon, and much more.
Dad was pretty fearless back then and thought nothing of scooping up his little daughter -- who could not yet swim -- and taking me out past the shallows and the sandbars into much deeper water where even he struggled to touch bottom. The waves would come at us, I would scream, and Dad would simply buoy me up as they rolled through us.
I never saw a shark, though I often imagined the little mullet fish nipping at my legs and feet were somehow kin.
I never saw a Portugese Man 'O War jellyfish, but I heard my dad tell stories about them. And I saw their cousins, the much bulkier and less attractive "cabbage head" jellies washed up on the shore from time to time.
As a teenager, I went with my mother to the island's annual Dickens Festival and Christmas on the Strand, a celebration of life as it might have looked in Charles Dickens' time. We donned our old-fashioned costumes, sipped wassail, ate roasted chestnuts and for an evening lived in another time. Once we even met a descendant of Charles Dickens at a special tea party to which Mom had bought tickets in advance. That was my first taste of Earl Grey tea and I did not like it.
This was several years after the 1983 Hurricane Alicia, a storm that wreaked enough havoc to make me believe in the truth of "mandatory" -- as in evacuation. We lived through that storm without power or water for nearly a week. My most vivid memories? The spooky incessant wailing of the wind the night Alicia plowed through, walking out in our backyard as the eye passed over and seeing blue sky and shining sun, my father calling me back in as he could see the clouds of the opposing eyewall heading towards us and, later, piles of tree debris as tall as every house on my street.
It wasn't long after that I bought a little book titled "Weekend in September" about the famous 1900 hurricane that wiped out the island and killed nearly 8,000 people. I read it in one sitting, so compelling was its collection of first person accounts and photographs of the aftermath. By this time I was old enough to appreciate devastation, having finally been subjected to school assignments on slavery in America, the Holocaust of WW II, and several other unfathomable human tragedies.
My pre-marriage, pre-motherhood memories of Galveston adventures are too numerous to recount in one 'blog entry but suffice it to say the island is part and parcel of the psyche of so many of us who have spent much of our lives in close proximity to it.
More recently, I'd just begun introducing my own children to the wonders of The Island. In 2006 they made their first journey over that big bridge to see for themselves the ocean. It was in November and in spite of the cold wind and water my oldest daughter was loathe to leave the beach. We fed seagulls, shopped for kitschy souvenirs at Murdoch's Beach House and Pier and toured the aquarium at Moody Gardens. We watched them toss pizza dough at Marios, and time and again in those three days went back down to the ocean for "just one more" look.
Last year, we took the girls and their brother back for another round. This time I was very pregnant with Baby No. 4 and while some activities weren't appealing to me, we made sure to visit the old haunts -- Murdoch's, Mario's, et al. My daughters greeted the different places like old friends, chattering excitedly as they changed from sandybeach swim clothes to souvenir-shopping and eating clothes. "When are we coming back?" they asked as we drove home. "Will it be soon? Will it be after the baby is born? Will we bring him to Galveston, too?"
We were planning another trip this very November so that my then-unborn son could see what he'd missed by being in utero at the time.
I finally saw a photo of Murdoch's today or, more accurately , the space where it used to be. I wondered what had happened to it as a result of this weekend in September.
It's all gone. Not a shell, not a keychain, not a tee-shirt remains. All I have is a photo of my two little girls -- how little they were -- sitting on the steps of the shop next to Murdoch's trademark giant clam shells and smiling.
It was a beautiful, breezy day that day. Just right for goin' to Galveston.
The memories aren't enough to keep me from mourning.
A childhood spent at Galveston beaches, parties with college friends, tours with my mom to the historic Strand district with its circa 1900s architecture and, more recently, vacations to the Island with my own children -- it's all in my mind and captured on film.
Tonight, many of those places have been swept out to sea. Others lie under several feet of muddy saltwater, their recovery possible, but light years away.
I grew up about 45 miles from the coast, and a trip to Galveston always promised big adventure. As a child, my folks driving me from the mainland over the big bridge to the island never failed to make my heart skip a few beats.
Water -- as far as the eye could see -- and boats, and funny little houses built on stilts, and seagulls and pelicans, and if I rolled down my window the sharp smell of salty sea air. I was never prepared for the most breathtaking sight of all, though. As we'd come up over the rise at Broadway, or at 61st St. or any of the streets in between that led to the Seawall, my little-kid mind would ready itself to behold the most massive and moving thing I knew.
The Gulf of Mexico. The ocean. The sea. The body of water pulled this way and that by the earth's rotation and its perpetual love affair with the moon.
My dad had been a Navy diver in his younger days as well as a meteorologist. I got many private tutorials in my early years about tides, currents, dangerous sea creatures, the relationship of the earth to the moon, and much more.
Dad was pretty fearless back then and thought nothing of scooping up his little daughter -- who could not yet swim -- and taking me out past the shallows and the sandbars into much deeper water where even he struggled to touch bottom. The waves would come at us, I would scream, and Dad would simply buoy me up as they rolled through us.
I never saw a shark, though I often imagined the little mullet fish nipping at my legs and feet were somehow kin.
I never saw a Portugese Man 'O War jellyfish, but I heard my dad tell stories about them. And I saw their cousins, the much bulkier and less attractive "cabbage head" jellies washed up on the shore from time to time.
As a teenager, I went with my mother to the island's annual Dickens Festival and Christmas on the Strand, a celebration of life as it might have looked in Charles Dickens' time. We donned our old-fashioned costumes, sipped wassail, ate roasted chestnuts and for an evening lived in another time. Once we even met a descendant of Charles Dickens at a special tea party to which Mom had bought tickets in advance. That was my first taste of Earl Grey tea and I did not like it.
This was several years after the 1983 Hurricane Alicia, a storm that wreaked enough havoc to make me believe in the truth of "mandatory" -- as in evacuation. We lived through that storm without power or water for nearly a week. My most vivid memories? The spooky incessant wailing of the wind the night Alicia plowed through, walking out in our backyard as the eye passed over and seeing blue sky and shining sun, my father calling me back in as he could see the clouds of the opposing eyewall heading towards us and, later, piles of tree debris as tall as every house on my street.
It wasn't long after that I bought a little book titled "Weekend in September" about the famous 1900 hurricane that wiped out the island and killed nearly 8,000 people. I read it in one sitting, so compelling was its collection of first person accounts and photographs of the aftermath. By this time I was old enough to appreciate devastation, having finally been subjected to school assignments on slavery in America, the Holocaust of WW II, and several other unfathomable human tragedies.
My pre-marriage, pre-motherhood memories of Galveston adventures are too numerous to recount in one 'blog entry but suffice it to say the island is part and parcel of the psyche of so many of us who have spent much of our lives in close proximity to it.
More recently, I'd just begun introducing my own children to the wonders of The Island. In 2006 they made their first journey over that big bridge to see for themselves the ocean. It was in November and in spite of the cold wind and water my oldest daughter was loathe to leave the beach. We fed seagulls, shopped for kitschy souvenirs at Murdoch's Beach House and Pier and toured the aquarium at Moody Gardens. We watched them toss pizza dough at Marios, and time and again in those three days went back down to the ocean for "just one more" look.
Last year, we took the girls and their brother back for another round. This time I was very pregnant with Baby No. 4 and while some activities weren't appealing to me, we made sure to visit the old haunts -- Murdoch's, Mario's, et al. My daughters greeted the different places like old friends, chattering excitedly as they changed from sandybeach swim clothes to souvenir-shopping and eating clothes. "When are we coming back?" they asked as we drove home. "Will it be soon? Will it be after the baby is born? Will we bring him to Galveston, too?"
We were planning another trip this very November so that my then-unborn son could see what he'd missed by being in utero at the time.
I finally saw a photo of Murdoch's today or, more accurately , the space where it used to be. I wondered what had happened to it as a result of this weekend in September.
It's all gone. Not a shell, not a keychain, not a tee-shirt remains. All I have is a photo of my two little girls -- how little they were -- sitting on the steps of the shop next to Murdoch's trademark giant clam shells and smiling.
It was a beautiful, breezy day that day. Just right for goin' to Galveston.
The memories aren't enough to keep me from mourning.
September 8, 2008
If Sarah Palin is a Pentecostal it must mean she. . .
isn't fit to govern the country, at least according to a snide piece by CNN that purports to highlight little known facts about Palin but in fact makes a point to single out the one unusual feature of the church in which she grew up. The Assemblies of God churches practice speaking in tongues. It's not clear, CNN opines, whether Palin herself ever adopted this practice.
No, religious freedom, er, choice in America is only for those who either choose what's popular (whatever that might be) or who choose nothing at all a la humanism/athiesm.
Anyone with a faith outside the mainstream of Protestantism is suspect, unless they are Muslim in which case we must fall all over ourselves to not offend.
Who knows but that Palin might suddenly start speaking in gibberish while in the midst of, say, a state dinner to honor the Queen of England, right?
No, a Pentecostal is just too risky.
And yet, we've taken risks before and done pretty well. We've had John Kennedy, the first Roman Catholic president whose decision to run for the Top Dog spot caused all manner of backroom twitter and outright condemnation. A Catholic in the White House? Surely he would take his marching orders from the Pope!
Yes, we all know how that turned out --strong enforcement of civil rights laws, creation of the Peace Corps, the space race, the adept handling of the Cuban missile crisis. If Kennedy in fact took instruction on national government from the then-Pope then I can only say that Pope did a bang-up job. Kennedy was one of the most popular presidents of our time.
Next?
Ah, yes. My used-to-be favorite presidential contender who I will always maintain got booted from the running because of his Mormon religion. Never mind that he'd governed a state, run a major corporation, and been married to the same woman for a really long time.
Noooo. His ancestors were polygamists, critics said. If Romney was elected he'd probably take his instructions from the LDS Church. We'd have Mormons running the country!
And we wouldn't want a people known in the modern day for their charity, staunch love of country, support of politically incorrect organizations like the Boy Scouts of America, and their embrace of children and families in general having any real say over the affairs of the rest of us. No sirree.
No Pentecostals. No Mormons. Even Joe Lieberman as independent as he is was questioned about how he'd handle Jewish holy days back when he ran as Al Gore's VP. (Tell us, Mr. Lieberman, would you refuse to handle a national crisis if it happened in, say, the middle of Passover?)
Guess that pretty much rules out practicing Jews, right?
Okay, so no Pentecostals, no Mormons, no Jews, no Evangelical Christians (let's not forget Mike Huckabee was heavily scrutinized for his religious beliefs, too).
The list just keeps growing.
But where is the mainstream media's investigation of Barack Obama, a man who apparently can't decide with which religion he wants to be associated? Raised a Muslim? Maybe, maybe not. Raised a Christian? Maybe, maybe not. Spent 20 years in a Christian church that preached vitriol against America from its pulpit? A documented fact. A little schizophrenic when it comes to his faith? Uh huh. Hey, Barack, just pick something and stick with it.
Look, the Left in America is always touting diversity, as if this concept alone is the magic bullet for all that ails us. But why, when it comes to religion, is the silence from that end of the spectrum so deafening?
If skin color -- in this case, Obama's -- is the measure of a diverse nation that we should all be adopting then we are in more trouble than a lot of folks realize.
A person's skin says pretty much nothing about how they think or what affects the working of their moral compass. On the other hand their adherence to a body of religious doctrine -- of whatever variety -- speaks volumes. I personally like the idea of a presidency and cabinet in which people from a smorgasbord of religious perspectives unite on common issues. We have an ecumenical Congress, why can't we have an ecumenical White House, too?
Sarah Palin's Pentecostal upbringing doesn't give me a moment's pause, nor did Romney's Mormonism, Huckabee's fundamentalist Christianity, or Lieberman's Judaism.
If the candidate is moral, law-abiding, keeping respectable company, not harming children or causing them to be harmed, and in general trying to live by the Golden Rule, then this voter is satisfied. Those are the qualities I want my children to manifest and I expect no less from my elected leaders.
If Palin can prove she's got all that then I don't care where she hangs her Bible and neither should anyone else.
No, religious freedom, er, choice in America is only for those who either choose what's popular (whatever that might be) or who choose nothing at all a la humanism/athiesm.
Anyone with a faith outside the mainstream of Protestantism is suspect, unless they are Muslim in which case we must fall all over ourselves to not offend.
Who knows but that Palin might suddenly start speaking in gibberish while in the midst of, say, a state dinner to honor the Queen of England, right?
No, a Pentecostal is just too risky.
And yet, we've taken risks before and done pretty well. We've had John Kennedy, the first Roman Catholic president whose decision to run for the Top Dog spot caused all manner of backroom twitter and outright condemnation. A Catholic in the White House? Surely he would take his marching orders from the Pope!
Yes, we all know how that turned out --strong enforcement of civil rights laws, creation of the Peace Corps, the space race, the adept handling of the Cuban missile crisis. If Kennedy in fact took instruction on national government from the then-Pope then I can only say that Pope did a bang-up job. Kennedy was one of the most popular presidents of our time.
Next?
Ah, yes. My used-to-be favorite presidential contender who I will always maintain got booted from the running because of his Mormon religion. Never mind that he'd governed a state, run a major corporation, and been married to the same woman for a really long time.
Noooo. His ancestors were polygamists, critics said. If Romney was elected he'd probably take his instructions from the LDS Church. We'd have Mormons running the country!
And we wouldn't want a people known in the modern day for their charity, staunch love of country, support of politically incorrect organizations like the Boy Scouts of America, and their embrace of children and families in general having any real say over the affairs of the rest of us. No sirree.
No Pentecostals. No Mormons. Even Joe Lieberman as independent as he is was questioned about how he'd handle Jewish holy days back when he ran as Al Gore's VP. (Tell us, Mr. Lieberman, would you refuse to handle a national crisis if it happened in, say, the middle of Passover?)
Guess that pretty much rules out practicing Jews, right?
Okay, so no Pentecostals, no Mormons, no Jews, no Evangelical Christians (let's not forget Mike Huckabee was heavily scrutinized for his religious beliefs, too).
The list just keeps growing.
But where is the mainstream media's investigation of Barack Obama, a man who apparently can't decide with which religion he wants to be associated? Raised a Muslim? Maybe, maybe not. Raised a Christian? Maybe, maybe not. Spent 20 years in a Christian church that preached vitriol against America from its pulpit? A documented fact. A little schizophrenic when it comes to his faith? Uh huh. Hey, Barack, just pick something and stick with it.
Look, the Left in America is always touting diversity, as if this concept alone is the magic bullet for all that ails us. But why, when it comes to religion, is the silence from that end of the spectrum so deafening?
If skin color -- in this case, Obama's -- is the measure of a diverse nation that we should all be adopting then we are in more trouble than a lot of folks realize.
A person's skin says pretty much nothing about how they think or what affects the working of their moral compass. On the other hand their adherence to a body of religious doctrine -- of whatever variety -- speaks volumes. I personally like the idea of a presidency and cabinet in which people from a smorgasbord of religious perspectives unite on common issues. We have an ecumenical Congress, why can't we have an ecumenical White House, too?
Sarah Palin's Pentecostal upbringing doesn't give me a moment's pause, nor did Romney's Mormonism, Huckabee's fundamentalist Christianity, or Lieberman's Judaism.
If the candidate is moral, law-abiding, keeping respectable company, not harming children or causing them to be harmed, and in general trying to live by the Golden Rule, then this voter is satisfied. Those are the qualities I want my children to manifest and I expect no less from my elected leaders.
If Palin can prove she's got all that then I don't care where she hangs her Bible and neither should anyone else.
September 3, 2008
Sarah Palin
I like Sarah Palin.
Okay, I don't like the fact that she's a hunter -- because I happen to think hunting is largely barbaric and pointless unless you live where it makes sense to shoot your meal -- but I do like the fact that she seems plainspoken and determined to practice what she preaches.
And I like the fact that she's only a wee bit older than I am. This means one of two things: Either I am much older than I am wont to admit because, after all, aren't grownups the only ones old enough to govern states and run countries, or else I'm proud to see someone of my generation take such a big step to such critical acclaim.
I like Sarah because she's a mother just like me, of more than one or two children just like me. I like her for loving her children unconditionally regardless of their mistakes (pregnant 17 year-old unmarried daughter) or their challenges (infant son with Down Syndrome.)
I like her because she seems like a real and likeable person, the sort of woman I might enjoy having as a neighbor or member of my church.
That's what's missing in government, you know. Real people with real stories.
I may not be a big fan of John McCain, but his VP choice will likely get my vote.
Okay, I don't like the fact that she's a hunter -- because I happen to think hunting is largely barbaric and pointless unless you live where it makes sense to shoot your meal -- but I do like the fact that she seems plainspoken and determined to practice what she preaches.
And I like the fact that she's only a wee bit older than I am. This means one of two things: Either I am much older than I am wont to admit because, after all, aren't grownups the only ones old enough to govern states and run countries, or else I'm proud to see someone of my generation take such a big step to such critical acclaim.
I like Sarah because she's a mother just like me, of more than one or two children just like me. I like her for loving her children unconditionally regardless of their mistakes (pregnant 17 year-old unmarried daughter) or their challenges (infant son with Down Syndrome.)
I like her because she seems like a real and likeable person, the sort of woman I might enjoy having as a neighbor or member of my church.
That's what's missing in government, you know. Real people with real stories.
I may not be a big fan of John McCain, but his VP choice will likely get my vote.
August 31, 2008
Time to light the torch and polish the pitchfork
Remarks made by California Federation of Teachers President Marty Hittelman would be funny if they weren't so eerily reminiscent of life in a police state.
Hittelman, whose comments appear prominently on a page of wholesale giant Costco's website as part of a "dialogue" and survey about whether parents should have to be certified to teach their own children, is a scary man.
Sadly, his opinion is shared by far too many Americans and for this reason all homeschoolers should beware.
"Homeschoolers should be required to deliver quality instruction, and their efforts should not result in students falling behind."
It's always nice to be presumed guilty until you can prove your innocence. In other words, Hittelman assumes upfront that homeschooling parents on the whole are not delivering quality instruction and because of this their children are falling behind.
The man teaches math at the college level. This would lead us to believe he's pretty smart, yes? Would it hurt him to take fifteen minutes to research online the documented successes of home educated kids before making such an asinine statement?
In support of state oversight of homeschoolers Hittelman goes on to say, "A homeschool teacher may be a natural teacher but lack necessary training and supervision."
Oh.
So this means that I should probably hire someone to make sure I'm dressing my children appropriately, brushing their teeth just so, planning balanced meals, and all other manner of child maintenance even though I'm already doing those things just fine because, after all, I'm only their mother and I can't possibly learn or understand what they need to develop their intellects.
If I need training and supervision to follow a scripted math curriculum, to pick out books on a reading list, and to make sure my children actually read the books and pass the math tests included in their workbooks, I must need help in keeping my kids safe and healthy, right?
Is this guy serious????? When did teaching the Three R's become so complicated that it should not be tried at home? Juggling children in all the other areas of their lives is infinitely more challenging. So why doesn't Hittelman advocate that all parents should be supervised in all aspects of child raising? Where does homeschooling end and "regular" parenting begin?
Hittelman, like so many homeschooling critics, has failed to think through his arguments or he'd know that education is interwoven into the very lives of homeschooling families. It would be hard, if not impossible, to tease apart that which he thinks the state should oversee (academics) versus that in which the state should have no say (dental hygeine, nutrition, choice of clothing).
I remind you, the man is teaching college level math and this is as good as the reasoning and research skills get.
But wait, there's more.
Hittelman goes on to say, "We believe the best education comes about when parents are involved in their children's public school education. We'd prefer homeschooling parents work with their local public schools so that all students are assured of a standards-based education."
Of course professional teachers like Hittelman would "prefer" us to turn our children over to the public schools. And sadly, folks like him really believe in their heart of hearts this is what's best for kids. It's not about academics, it's about control. And job security.
What Hittelman fails to grasp, however, is that parental authority over one's children must always trump that of the state unless grave and imminent harm can be shown. As for a "standards-based" education, I invite you, dear reader, to do a little digging into what California holds up as its standards. Google phrases such as "communism in California classrooms," "alternative lifestyle education in California classrooms," "religious instruction in California classrooms" and see if you are comfortable with the so-called standards Mr. Hittelman proudly touts.
As if I need any proof to back my longstanding claim that public education in America is at an all-time low, I leave you with a quote from someone on the Costco site who, most likely, received her education in one of our nation's public schools.
The contributor writes, "Society is struggling to find educated, well-rounded people to employ. Educate kids with trained educators."
Nevermind that IN SPITE OF educating several generations of children with "trained educators" we are struggling to find educated people to employ.
No, never mind.
Hittelman, whose comments appear prominently on a page of wholesale giant Costco's website as part of a "dialogue" and survey about whether parents should have to be certified to teach their own children, is a scary man.
Sadly, his opinion is shared by far too many Americans and for this reason all homeschoolers should beware.
"Homeschoolers should be required to deliver quality instruction, and their efforts should not result in students falling behind."
It's always nice to be presumed guilty until you can prove your innocence. In other words, Hittelman assumes upfront that homeschooling parents on the whole are not delivering quality instruction and because of this their children are falling behind.
The man teaches math at the college level. This would lead us to believe he's pretty smart, yes? Would it hurt him to take fifteen minutes to research online the documented successes of home educated kids before making such an asinine statement?
In support of state oversight of homeschoolers Hittelman goes on to say, "A homeschool teacher may be a natural teacher but lack necessary training and supervision."
Oh.
So this means that I should probably hire someone to make sure I'm dressing my children appropriately, brushing their teeth just so, planning balanced meals, and all other manner of child maintenance even though I'm already doing those things just fine because, after all, I'm only their mother and I can't possibly learn or understand what they need to develop their intellects.
If I need training and supervision to follow a scripted math curriculum, to pick out books on a reading list, and to make sure my children actually read the books and pass the math tests included in their workbooks, I must need help in keeping my kids safe and healthy, right?
Is this guy serious????? When did teaching the Three R's become so complicated that it should not be tried at home? Juggling children in all the other areas of their lives is infinitely more challenging. So why doesn't Hittelman advocate that all parents should be supervised in all aspects of child raising? Where does homeschooling end and "regular" parenting begin?
Hittelman, like so many homeschooling critics, has failed to think through his arguments or he'd know that education is interwoven into the very lives of homeschooling families. It would be hard, if not impossible, to tease apart that which he thinks the state should oversee (academics) versus that in which the state should have no say (dental hygeine, nutrition, choice of clothing).
I remind you, the man is teaching college level math and this is as good as the reasoning and research skills get.
But wait, there's more.
Hittelman goes on to say, "We believe the best education comes about when parents are involved in their children's public school education. We'd prefer homeschooling parents work with their local public schools so that all students are assured of a standards-based education."
Of course professional teachers like Hittelman would "prefer" us to turn our children over to the public schools. And sadly, folks like him really believe in their heart of hearts this is what's best for kids. It's not about academics, it's about control. And job security.
What Hittelman fails to grasp, however, is that parental authority over one's children must always trump that of the state unless grave and imminent harm can be shown. As for a "standards-based" education, I invite you, dear reader, to do a little digging into what California holds up as its standards. Google phrases such as "communism in California classrooms," "alternative lifestyle education in California classrooms," "religious instruction in California classrooms" and see if you are comfortable with the so-called standards Mr. Hittelman proudly touts.
As if I need any proof to back my longstanding claim that public education in America is at an all-time low, I leave you with a quote from someone on the Costco site who, most likely, received her education in one of our nation's public schools.
The contributor writes, "Society is struggling to find educated, well-rounded people to employ. Educate kids with trained educators."
Nevermind that IN SPITE OF educating several generations of children with "trained educators" we are struggling to find educated people to employ.
No, never mind.
August 21, 2008
What else is made in China?
Cruelty. It's mass produced along with all the widgets and gew-gaws Americans apparently cannot live without.
The Chinese are cruel to their women -- forced abortions are the norm.
They are cruel to their political prisoners -- self explanatory.
They are cruel to their Christians -- churches are closed, Bibles are banned, and the faithful can be imprisoned.
And, leaving no one out of the circle of madness, the Chinese are cruel to their animals.
Yep, WorldNetDaily reports that the Chinese don't meet even the minimum standards of animal care when it comes to creatures raised for food or fur.
I don't eat meat. This is a personal choice.
I don't wear fur. This is also a personal choice, albeit one I'm more likely to share with folks whether they want me to or not. Fur clothing makes sense if you live anywhere inside the Arctic Circle, otherwise it's vanity as well as downright tacky.
But many Americans don't share my disgust at the thought of having skinned animal remains draped over their shoulders or covering their backs, consequently they buy fur coats, fur purses, fur trimmed gloves, scarves, and all other manner of foolishness.
You know those cute fuzzy toys that look like long-haired rabbits or cats that you see in some import stores? If the fur is very soft and silky and the toy was made in China you can be fairly certain some animal died a horrific death as part of the manufacturing process.
Here in America, when we kill our animals for fur we use "humane" things like anal probes that shoot hundreds of volts of electricity into their victims. This kills the fox or ermine or raccoon or whatever critter some moron wants to wear without damaging the pelt.
But China isn't nearly as sophisticated. The Chinese have been caught on film by both Swedish and American animal welfare organizations skinning their animals ALIVE. Literally.
Foxes, dogs (!), raccoons -- not stunned, not anesthesized first in any way. Just scooped up and skinned as they screamed and writhed in unimaginable agony.
All in the name of profit, vanity, and foolishness.
And, yes, a dog can scream. (I used to work at an animal shelter and witnessed severely injured dogs being treated, but not before they made such a ruckus we all nearly went deaf.)
There's not much we can do to change the mindset of another culture. After all, the Chinese could easily point the finger back at us for the way in which some of our livestock are handled before they are slaughtered for food.
But there IS a lot we can do individually and collectively to stop the fallout of Chinese animal cruelty for the sake of fashion from coming ashore.
If you have a choice between buying a product made in China and one made elsewhere, choose Elsewhere.
If you have a choice between buying the "real" fur covered toy or item of clothing and one that's made of synthetic or "faux" fur, choose the latter.
The Chinese government is not interested in treating its citizens humanely, and its animals are treated even worse.
Just say no to China-made goods!
The Chinese are cruel to their women -- forced abortions are the norm.
They are cruel to their political prisoners -- self explanatory.
They are cruel to their Christians -- churches are closed, Bibles are banned, and the faithful can be imprisoned.
And, leaving no one out of the circle of madness, the Chinese are cruel to their animals.
Yep, WorldNetDaily reports that the Chinese don't meet even the minimum standards of animal care when it comes to creatures raised for food or fur.
I don't eat meat. This is a personal choice.
I don't wear fur. This is also a personal choice, albeit one I'm more likely to share with folks whether they want me to or not. Fur clothing makes sense if you live anywhere inside the Arctic Circle, otherwise it's vanity as well as downright tacky.
But many Americans don't share my disgust at the thought of having skinned animal remains draped over their shoulders or covering their backs, consequently they buy fur coats, fur purses, fur trimmed gloves, scarves, and all other manner of foolishness.
You know those cute fuzzy toys that look like long-haired rabbits or cats that you see in some import stores? If the fur is very soft and silky and the toy was made in China you can be fairly certain some animal died a horrific death as part of the manufacturing process.
Here in America, when we kill our animals for fur we use "humane" things like anal probes that shoot hundreds of volts of electricity into their victims. This kills the fox or ermine or raccoon or whatever critter some moron wants to wear without damaging the pelt.
But China isn't nearly as sophisticated. The Chinese have been caught on film by both Swedish and American animal welfare organizations skinning their animals ALIVE. Literally.
Foxes, dogs (!), raccoons -- not stunned, not anesthesized first in any way. Just scooped up and skinned as they screamed and writhed in unimaginable agony.
All in the name of profit, vanity, and foolishness.
And, yes, a dog can scream. (I used to work at an animal shelter and witnessed severely injured dogs being treated, but not before they made such a ruckus we all nearly went deaf.)
There's not much we can do to change the mindset of another culture. After all, the Chinese could easily point the finger back at us for the way in which some of our livestock are handled before they are slaughtered for food.
But there IS a lot we can do individually and collectively to stop the fallout of Chinese animal cruelty for the sake of fashion from coming ashore.
If you have a choice between buying a product made in China and one made elsewhere, choose Elsewhere.
If you have a choice between buying the "real" fur covered toy or item of clothing and one that's made of synthetic or "faux" fur, choose the latter.
The Chinese government is not interested in treating its citizens humanely, and its animals are treated even worse.
Just say no to China-made goods!
August 18, 2008
Remembering Mary
Mary M. Merritt, the mother of my lifelong and much beloved friend Jennifer Meier left us on August 11. While her passing was not completely unexpected it nevertheless leaves those of us who knew her with one less rock to cling to in turbulent times.
When Jennifer asked if I'd be willing to speak at Mary's memorial service and I agreed, she told me her mother had little patience for wailing and whining and wouldn't want us telling any stories that would make people cry. With thirty years of memories and roughly five minutes to say my piece, I left 'em laughing even as my heart grieved the passing of a remarkable mother and businesswoman.
In loving remembrance of Mary I offer up to you, dear 'blog readers, my remarks delivered at her service on Aug. 16. I hope that by reading them you, too, will catch a glimpse of a person the world can ill afford to be without.
My name is Marjorie Westmoreland and Mary’s daughter Jennifer and I have been best friends for 30 years. I love Mary and consider it a privilege to speak about her today.
I first met Mary a couple of weeks after Jennifer and I became friends in the sixth grade. I’d been invited to come over to their house after school and Jennifer and I were sitting in her room talking and listening to music when Mary came in from her job as a realtor. She stuck her head in the door and Jennifer introduced me.
“Mmm,” she said, nodding in my direction unsmilingly, “Nice to meet you. Don’t forget the kitchen needs cleaning.”
And with that she turned on her heel and walked away.
Was she talking to me? I wondered. I stayed to help wash dishes that night just in case.
Something told me I didn’t want to get crossways with Mary -- not if I knew what was good for me.
One of Jennifer’s old boyfriends found this out the hard way. Neither Jennifer nor I can recall exactly what he did wrong but Mary got so mad at him she chased him out of her house waving a pistol. We don’t know whether the gun was loaded but knowing Mary, it probably was.
Then there was the time when we were in high school and Mary overheard us talking about the possibility of Jennifer getting a tattoo. Mary waited until I left to tell Jennifer that if she ever came home actually wearing a tattoo she could expect to have it scrubbed off with a wire brush dipped in a bucket of salt.
Mary wasn’t intimidated by official credentials, either. I was in the hospital room the morning that Jennifer’s son Jacob was born. The head nurse hardly had a chance to clean him up and wrap him in a blanket before Mary stepped forward, held out her arms and said firmly, “Give him to me.” The nurse obeyed and quickly. I also witnessed Mary talking her way out of a speeding ticket on at least two occasions. Unruffled, she simply told the officer she didn’t think she was going too fast and both times, much to my amazement, they let her go with nothing more than a warning.
Over the years, Mary got to where she treated me like family – giving me chores when I came to the house and telling me what to say and do. She even took me out to West Texas to visit the relatives a couple of times where I survived a tornado and all sorts of other dangerous fun. My mother said she never worried when Mary was in charge because she knew I’d be kept safe.
I guess it’s a good thing my mom never saw Mary getting ready for work back when she owned the real estate office. She’d be standing in the bathroom fixing her hair with a lit cigarette in one hand and a can of aerosol hairspray in the other. It’s a wonder she didn’t blow the roof off the house.
Like any good mother, Mary never failed to feed me (her slow-cooked beans were some of the best) and she never failed to acknowledge all the milestones in my life -- graduations, marriage, and the births of each of my four children. As if her own children and grandchildren weren’t enough to keep up with! She was from the generation that didn’t just send a card or an email to congratulate you on a new baby. She came to visit, bringing a gift and staying a respectable two hours give or take. She loved babies and it was the birth of my son last year that brought her out to our home in Cypress. That was the last time I saw her.
Mary’s tire store was just around the corner from my parents’ house and my dad always bought his tires there. He liked visiting with Mary because they were culturally and politically on the same page. My dad never failed to comment on what a smart lady that Mary Merritt was.
Every once in awhile I’d be listening to one of the local AM radio talk shows when I’d hear a familiar voice coming through the speaker. Mary had strong opinions about things and she wasn’t afraid to call in and share them with the fourth largest city in America.
I always admired Mary because she was plain-spoken – you knew where you stood with her at all times. She referred to silly, stupid or irrational people as “fools” and she used that word a lot. She didn’t mince words, put on airs, or try to keep up with the Joneses. Widowed at a young age with three children to raise, she was too busy to worry about what other people thought. She was a self-made woman long before feminism became fashionable and the fact that her daughters grew up to be remarkable wives and mothers themselves is perhaps Mary’s greatest legacy. She lived boldly and honestly and in doing so set the example for all of us.
Debbie, Susan, and my most beloved friend Jennifer, your mother was one in a million and I am so grateful to have known her all these years. I pray that God will pour out His peace and blessing upon your hearts and in your lives.
Otherwise, He, too, will have to answer to your mom and we all know who’ll win that argument!
When Jennifer asked if I'd be willing to speak at Mary's memorial service and I agreed, she told me her mother had little patience for wailing and whining and wouldn't want us telling any stories that would make people cry. With thirty years of memories and roughly five minutes to say my piece, I left 'em laughing even as my heart grieved the passing of a remarkable mother and businesswoman.
In loving remembrance of Mary I offer up to you, dear 'blog readers, my remarks delivered at her service on Aug. 16. I hope that by reading them you, too, will catch a glimpse of a person the world can ill afford to be without.
My name is Marjorie Westmoreland and Mary’s daughter Jennifer and I have been best friends for 30 years. I love Mary and consider it a privilege to speak about her today.
I first met Mary a couple of weeks after Jennifer and I became friends in the sixth grade. I’d been invited to come over to their house after school and Jennifer and I were sitting in her room talking and listening to music when Mary came in from her job as a realtor. She stuck her head in the door and Jennifer introduced me.
“Mmm,” she said, nodding in my direction unsmilingly, “Nice to meet you. Don’t forget the kitchen needs cleaning.”
And with that she turned on her heel and walked away.
Was she talking to me? I wondered. I stayed to help wash dishes that night just in case.
Something told me I didn’t want to get crossways with Mary -- not if I knew what was good for me.
One of Jennifer’s old boyfriends found this out the hard way. Neither Jennifer nor I can recall exactly what he did wrong but Mary got so mad at him she chased him out of her house waving a pistol. We don’t know whether the gun was loaded but knowing Mary, it probably was.
Then there was the time when we were in high school and Mary overheard us talking about the possibility of Jennifer getting a tattoo. Mary waited until I left to tell Jennifer that if she ever came home actually wearing a tattoo she could expect to have it scrubbed off with a wire brush dipped in a bucket of salt.
Mary wasn’t intimidated by official credentials, either. I was in the hospital room the morning that Jennifer’s son Jacob was born. The head nurse hardly had a chance to clean him up and wrap him in a blanket before Mary stepped forward, held out her arms and said firmly, “Give him to me.” The nurse obeyed and quickly. I also witnessed Mary talking her way out of a speeding ticket on at least two occasions. Unruffled, she simply told the officer she didn’t think she was going too fast and both times, much to my amazement, they let her go with nothing more than a warning.
Over the years, Mary got to where she treated me like family – giving me chores when I came to the house and telling me what to say and do. She even took me out to West Texas to visit the relatives a couple of times where I survived a tornado and all sorts of other dangerous fun. My mother said she never worried when Mary was in charge because she knew I’d be kept safe.
I guess it’s a good thing my mom never saw Mary getting ready for work back when she owned the real estate office. She’d be standing in the bathroom fixing her hair with a lit cigarette in one hand and a can of aerosol hairspray in the other. It’s a wonder she didn’t blow the roof off the house.
Like any good mother, Mary never failed to feed me (her slow-cooked beans were some of the best) and she never failed to acknowledge all the milestones in my life -- graduations, marriage, and the births of each of my four children. As if her own children and grandchildren weren’t enough to keep up with! She was from the generation that didn’t just send a card or an email to congratulate you on a new baby. She came to visit, bringing a gift and staying a respectable two hours give or take. She loved babies and it was the birth of my son last year that brought her out to our home in Cypress. That was the last time I saw her.
Mary’s tire store was just around the corner from my parents’ house and my dad always bought his tires there. He liked visiting with Mary because they were culturally and politically on the same page. My dad never failed to comment on what a smart lady that Mary Merritt was.
Every once in awhile I’d be listening to one of the local AM radio talk shows when I’d hear a familiar voice coming through the speaker. Mary had strong opinions about things and she wasn’t afraid to call in and share them with the fourth largest city in America.
I always admired Mary because she was plain-spoken – you knew where you stood with her at all times. She referred to silly, stupid or irrational people as “fools” and she used that word a lot. She didn’t mince words, put on airs, or try to keep up with the Joneses. Widowed at a young age with three children to raise, she was too busy to worry about what other people thought. She was a self-made woman long before feminism became fashionable and the fact that her daughters grew up to be remarkable wives and mothers themselves is perhaps Mary’s greatest legacy. She lived boldly and honestly and in doing so set the example for all of us.
Debbie, Susan, and my most beloved friend Jennifer, your mother was one in a million and I am so grateful to have known her all these years. I pray that God will pour out His peace and blessing upon your hearts and in your lives.
Otherwise, He, too, will have to answer to your mom and we all know who’ll win that argument!
August 9, 2008
Whose law?
The media reports that the Florida chapter of a group called the United American Committee has paid to have billboards posted with the words, "Sharia law is hate."
Their aim is to get Americans thinking about the Islamic system of law that does not recognize any separation between church and state. Sharia law is already accepted as an alternative form of legal process in Canada for Muslims living there, and some British Muslims are lobbying to have it incorporated into British law, too.
The UAC says it wants Americans to be thinking now about what might happen if Sharia law were to be proposed as an alternative legal process in this country.
The head of the Florida chapter rightly notes that Sharia is incompatible with the ideology set forth in the U.S. Constitution.
The group's use of the word "hate" has generated controversy, with some calling it too extreme a word. Again the UAC is unapologetic in its choice.
Florida UAC director Alan Kornman is quoted in an article appearing on WorldNetDaily's website as saying, "For those people calling me hateful, then they would have to condone child marriages, amputations for stealing and death for apostates to name only a few punishments attached to Sharia law. If my critics condone this type of activity under any circumstances, then it is they who are hateful towards anyone who is non-Muslim and should look into their own mirror before crying hate speech," he said.
Should sharia law ever be allowed to exist side by side in America as a legitimate means of adjudication? Not unless Congress is willing and ready to dismantle our constitutionally-based system of justice.
The folks in D.C. often have their heads stuck in darn and unmentionable places, but I am fairly certain even they wouldn't want their lives ruled by a system that penalizes adulterers with stoning or lashing and punishes thieves by amputation.
Who'd be left on Capitol Hill?
Their aim is to get Americans thinking about the Islamic system of law that does not recognize any separation between church and state. Sharia law is already accepted as an alternative form of legal process in Canada for Muslims living there, and some British Muslims are lobbying to have it incorporated into British law, too.
The UAC says it wants Americans to be thinking now about what might happen if Sharia law were to be proposed as an alternative legal process in this country.
The head of the Florida chapter rightly notes that Sharia is incompatible with the ideology set forth in the U.S. Constitution.
The group's use of the word "hate" has generated controversy, with some calling it too extreme a word. Again the UAC is unapologetic in its choice.
Florida UAC director Alan Kornman is quoted in an article appearing on WorldNetDaily's website as saying, "For those people calling me hateful, then they would have to condone child marriages, amputations for stealing and death for apostates to name only a few punishments attached to Sharia law. If my critics condone this type of activity under any circumstances, then it is they who are hateful towards anyone who is non-Muslim and should look into their own mirror before crying hate speech," he said.
Should sharia law ever be allowed to exist side by side in America as a legitimate means of adjudication? Not unless Congress is willing and ready to dismantle our constitutionally-based system of justice.
The folks in D.C. often have their heads stuck in darn and unmentionable places, but I am fairly certain even they wouldn't want their lives ruled by a system that penalizes adulterers with stoning or lashing and punishes thieves by amputation.
Who'd be left on Capitol Hill?
August 7, 2008
Religious persecution is STILL a problem
If you thought religious persecution went the way of lions in the Coliseum or Hitler's Germany, you are encouraged to ponder the following 'blog entry.
As it turns out, persecution for reasons of faith is alive and well in roughly 50 countries worldwide. The targets? We all know the Jews are continually under fire. But are they alone? Nope. Christians, either born into the faith or converts from Islam, Hinduism, or athiesm are actively targeted and their stories are compelling.
American Christians have it pretty good. We've got the Constitution with its fabulous First Amendment, a plethora of bookstores, churches, private schools, radio stations and cable television broadcasts -- all ways to share our faith with others or rejuvenate ourselves.
Try reading the Bible in public in, say, Pakistan or Azerbaijan or Saudi Arabia or China and see what happens.
Better yet, try starting up a church and inviting the public to come.
If you do this in Vietnam, Libya, Morocco, or Cuba, you could face imprisonment or death.
With the start of the Olympics in Beijing -- from where, by the way, the Chinese government has made it a point to move out as many religious protesters as possible -- I think it's worthwhile for Christians of all denominations to pray for our brothers and sisters in Christ who are openly threatened.
We must recognize that Christian persecution is about more than public schools substituting the words "Winter Break" for "Christmas" or about a mouthy bunch of weenies demanding that an old Bible be removed from its hazy acrylic case in front of the city courthouse.
It's about men and women so committed to the teachings of Christ that they are willing to risk their lives to practice their faith. It's about children orphaned because their parents are imprisoned or killed. It's about nations that DO have religious freedom failing to call out those that don't.
Our faith is nothing if we don't live it. I've seen the ads for Voice of the Martyrs for years but never bothered to investigate its cause until recently. I am changed because I finally took a minute or two to learn more. I am ashamed because I should have done it sooner.
To that end, I have decided to pledge my support for the mission of VOM. I hope some of you reading this will take a minute or two to research the issue for yourselves and do the same.
Visit the website http://www.persecution.com/ to learn more about Voice of the Martyrs, a hands-on help to persecuted Christians since 1967 or http://www.michaeljobcenter.com/ to find out more about Christian children orphaned as a result of their parents' determination to demonstrate their faith.
As it turns out, persecution for reasons of faith is alive and well in roughly 50 countries worldwide. The targets? We all know the Jews are continually under fire. But are they alone? Nope. Christians, either born into the faith or converts from Islam, Hinduism, or athiesm are actively targeted and their stories are compelling.
American Christians have it pretty good. We've got the Constitution with its fabulous First Amendment, a plethora of bookstores, churches, private schools, radio stations and cable television broadcasts -- all ways to share our faith with others or rejuvenate ourselves.
Try reading the Bible in public in, say, Pakistan or Azerbaijan or Saudi Arabia or China and see what happens.
Better yet, try starting up a church and inviting the public to come.
If you do this in Vietnam, Libya, Morocco, or Cuba, you could face imprisonment or death.
With the start of the Olympics in Beijing -- from where, by the way, the Chinese government has made it a point to move out as many religious protesters as possible -- I think it's worthwhile for Christians of all denominations to pray for our brothers and sisters in Christ who are openly threatened.
We must recognize that Christian persecution is about more than public schools substituting the words "Winter Break" for "Christmas" or about a mouthy bunch of weenies demanding that an old Bible be removed from its hazy acrylic case in front of the city courthouse.
It's about men and women so committed to the teachings of Christ that they are willing to risk their lives to practice their faith. It's about children orphaned because their parents are imprisoned or killed. It's about nations that DO have religious freedom failing to call out those that don't.
Our faith is nothing if we don't live it. I've seen the ads for Voice of the Martyrs for years but never bothered to investigate its cause until recently. I am changed because I finally took a minute or two to learn more. I am ashamed because I should have done it sooner.
To that end, I have decided to pledge my support for the mission of VOM. I hope some of you reading this will take a minute or two to research the issue for yourselves and do the same.
Visit the website http://www.persecution.com/ to learn more about Voice of the Martyrs, a hands-on help to persecuted Christians since 1967 or http://www.michaeljobcenter.com/ to find out more about Christian children orphaned as a result of their parents' determination to demonstrate their faith.
August 6, 2008
Davy Crockett said it best
"You can all go to hell. I'm going to Texas." -- D. Crockett
Yep. It's been awhile since I've had that over-the-top belt-bustin' feelin' of pride about my native Lone Star State. You know, what with our wishy-washy attitude about how best to uphold the law of the land regarding immigration, the ongoing (laughable if they weren't so pitiful) public education problems, and the ridiculously high property taxes that suck dry the bank accounts of far too many homeowners.
But last night was a good night. Our state gave the figurative middle finger to the United Nations World Court and put to death one of the most notorious criminals to grace Huntsville State Prison in recent memory.
Jose Medellin was 18 and an illegal immigrant from Mexico when he led a gang initiation in T.C. Jester Park 15 years ago. That initiation culminated in the prolonged torture and rape of two girls, ages 15 and 14.
One of the guys in this nauseatingly brutal case has already met his Maker. Two others had sentences commuted to life and yet another got 40 years.
Medellin whined and complained for FIFTEEN years that he was denied access to Mexican consul services at the time of his arrest. Funny thing is, he was in jail for four years before he bothered to say so. Guess it took him awhile to figure out an angle.
This creative argument caught the attention of some do-gooders at the United Nations who called on President Bush and Congress to stop the planned madness -- the LEGAL execution of Medellin -- at once.
We said, "No."
Texas did the right thing putting Medellin to death. He was a coward, the worst kind of coward, the kind who would lie to save his own sorry butt regardless of the fact that his actions permanently ruined the lives of two families and sent shock waves through an entire community.
I hope Jennifer Ertmann and Elizabeth Pena and their families can at last rest in peace.
I can't say the same for Jose Medellin. He's got a lot to atone for and my guess is that this will keep him very busy, what with having to swim through all those lakes of fire and such.
As for those who like to argue that the death penalty doesn't deter criminals so we should abolish it, I'd like to share what an editor of mine once said. "I don't care whether the death penalty deters criminals from committing crimes. We know it permanently prevents them from ever doing it again, and that, to me, is its real value."
Yep.
"The eyes of Texas are upon you, all the live long day. The eyes of Texas are upon you, you cannot get away . . ."
Yep. It's been awhile since I've had that over-the-top belt-bustin' feelin' of pride about my native Lone Star State. You know, what with our wishy-washy attitude about how best to uphold the law of the land regarding immigration, the ongoing (laughable if they weren't so pitiful) public education problems, and the ridiculously high property taxes that suck dry the bank accounts of far too many homeowners.
But last night was a good night. Our state gave the figurative middle finger to the United Nations World Court and put to death one of the most notorious criminals to grace Huntsville State Prison in recent memory.
Jose Medellin was 18 and an illegal immigrant from Mexico when he led a gang initiation in T.C. Jester Park 15 years ago. That initiation culminated in the prolonged torture and rape of two girls, ages 15 and 14.
One of the guys in this nauseatingly brutal case has already met his Maker. Two others had sentences commuted to life and yet another got 40 years.
Medellin whined and complained for FIFTEEN years that he was denied access to Mexican consul services at the time of his arrest. Funny thing is, he was in jail for four years before he bothered to say so. Guess it took him awhile to figure out an angle.
This creative argument caught the attention of some do-gooders at the United Nations who called on President Bush and Congress to stop the planned madness -- the LEGAL execution of Medellin -- at once.
We said, "No."
Texas did the right thing putting Medellin to death. He was a coward, the worst kind of coward, the kind who would lie to save his own sorry butt regardless of the fact that his actions permanently ruined the lives of two families and sent shock waves through an entire community.
I hope Jennifer Ertmann and Elizabeth Pena and their families can at last rest in peace.
I can't say the same for Jose Medellin. He's got a lot to atone for and my guess is that this will keep him very busy, what with having to swim through all those lakes of fire and such.
As for those who like to argue that the death penalty doesn't deter criminals so we should abolish it, I'd like to share what an editor of mine once said. "I don't care whether the death penalty deters criminals from committing crimes. We know it permanently prevents them from ever doing it again, and that, to me, is its real value."
Yep.
"The eyes of Texas are upon you, all the live long day. The eyes of Texas are upon you, you cannot get away . . ."
August 1, 2008
Much too late at night . . .
Sitting up, listening to the radio while I write, I am thinking about a lot of different things but none with an obvious common thread.
My oldest daughter has developed a fascination with harpsichords and I am trying to find someone in our area who has one and would be willing to give her a demonstration. She cried today when I told her we could not possibly buy one of our own. We already have two pianos, an antique reed organ, a French horn, and a guitar. Not to mention castanets, a tambourine, shaker eggs, maracas, and a triangle. We'd have to put a harpsichord out on the back patio, next to the plastic wading pool. Nice.
Reparations for slavery. No. The children have already been held accountable for the sins of the fathers and that's enough. It's impossible to move forward if we're determined to stay mired in the past. We can't have it both ways. Sen. Phil Gramm got booted from the McCain campaign for calling us a nation of whiners. The truth hurts.
Presidential candidates. I don't like either of them. Where's my viable third choice?
My youngest just turned one. We call him Puffcookie because he is both puffy and sweet.
Poetry isn't as popular as it should be. Neither is common sense.
My oldest daughter has developed a fascination with harpsichords and I am trying to find someone in our area who has one and would be willing to give her a demonstration. She cried today when I told her we could not possibly buy one of our own. We already have two pianos, an antique reed organ, a French horn, and a guitar. Not to mention castanets, a tambourine, shaker eggs, maracas, and a triangle. We'd have to put a harpsichord out on the back patio, next to the plastic wading pool. Nice.
Reparations for slavery. No. The children have already been held accountable for the sins of the fathers and that's enough. It's impossible to move forward if we're determined to stay mired in the past. We can't have it both ways. Sen. Phil Gramm got booted from the McCain campaign for calling us a nation of whiners. The truth hurts.
Presidential candidates. I don't like either of them. Where's my viable third choice?
My youngest just turned one. We call him Puffcookie because he is both puffy and sweet.
Poetry isn't as popular as it should be. Neither is common sense.
July 29, 2008
Jules
This 'blog entry is lovingly dedicated to Jules K. Dahn, July 24- July 28, 2008.
Time. It's the one commodity everyone covets, works hard to have more of, wastes in a myriad of silly and superficial ways, and ultimately loses track of because it cannot be controlled.
It cannot be bought, it can't be bartered (although some, including myself have tried this), and it can't be captured, not really.
We try to catch time and hold it fast. Film, magnetic tape, disk, canvas, paint, ink -- all ways to record a slice of a moment that exists independent of our effort, darting this way or that like a spark from a bonfire flying haphazardly up into the night.
And so it was with Jules, the long-awaited, much loved, hoped for son of a friend of mine from high school.
His story started out pretty much like all baby stories -- excitement, anticipation, the pinning on of a future that began to take shape long before he was due to arrive.
The derailment came when doctors said he was the victim of a vicious chromosomal storm that would not let up.
There were options. . .
My friend and his wife chose the road less travelled, the one the poet Robert Frost writes of so eloquently, the one that isn't the favored way but promises great reward at its end.
They left their son alone to grow in the safety of his mother's womb.
Time always loomed large, and for those of us not directly suspended in this exquisitely painful-joyful limbo, it seemed to fly by quickly.
Seeing Jules' birth photos made my heart sing. Oh, he is so beautiful, so handsome, so reflective of all that is true and right and purposeful! Knowing he had survived the potentially treacherous journey to reach his parents' arms had me crying and laughing at the same time. My friend used to report from time to time how active Jules was in utero and this always spoke volumes to me. Jules had a purpose, a role to play, a task to carry out. He wasn't privy to the musings of those who said he wouldn't, couldn't, or shouldn't.
And so he defied them all, living long enough to give his parents that precious, albeit fleeting, gift of time together with their much-beloved son.
I don't presume to know how long it takes to begin to recover from having to say goodbye so soon after meeting one's child.
But I do know this, that time is not the enemy so many people make it out to be. No, the real enemy is our failure to hope, a failure that cheats us of more than we could possibly know.
I'm glad my friends had the good sense to beat back that impulse, because their hope became our hope and it strengthens us even now. Was having Jules for only three days worth the months of anxious waiting?
One look at the beautiful faces of my friends smiling down on their beautiful boy leads me to believe it was.
Time. It's the one commodity everyone covets, works hard to have more of, wastes in a myriad of silly and superficial ways, and ultimately loses track of because it cannot be controlled.
It cannot be bought, it can't be bartered (although some, including myself have tried this), and it can't be captured, not really.
We try to catch time and hold it fast. Film, magnetic tape, disk, canvas, paint, ink -- all ways to record a slice of a moment that exists independent of our effort, darting this way or that like a spark from a bonfire flying haphazardly up into the night.
And so it was with Jules, the long-awaited, much loved, hoped for son of a friend of mine from high school.
His story started out pretty much like all baby stories -- excitement, anticipation, the pinning on of a future that began to take shape long before he was due to arrive.
The derailment came when doctors said he was the victim of a vicious chromosomal storm that would not let up.
There were options. . .
My friend and his wife chose the road less travelled, the one the poet Robert Frost writes of so eloquently, the one that isn't the favored way but promises great reward at its end.
They left their son alone to grow in the safety of his mother's womb.
Time always loomed large, and for those of us not directly suspended in this exquisitely painful-joyful limbo, it seemed to fly by quickly.
Seeing Jules' birth photos made my heart sing. Oh, he is so beautiful, so handsome, so reflective of all that is true and right and purposeful! Knowing he had survived the potentially treacherous journey to reach his parents' arms had me crying and laughing at the same time. My friend used to report from time to time how active Jules was in utero and this always spoke volumes to me. Jules had a purpose, a role to play, a task to carry out. He wasn't privy to the musings of those who said he wouldn't, couldn't, or shouldn't.
And so he defied them all, living long enough to give his parents that precious, albeit fleeting, gift of time together with their much-beloved son.
I don't presume to know how long it takes to begin to recover from having to say goodbye so soon after meeting one's child.
But I do know this, that time is not the enemy so many people make it out to be. No, the real enemy is our failure to hope, a failure that cheats us of more than we could possibly know.
I'm glad my friends had the good sense to beat back that impulse, because their hope became our hope and it strengthens us even now. Was having Jules for only three days worth the months of anxious waiting?
One look at the beautiful faces of my friends smiling down on their beautiful boy leads me to believe it was.
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