Sunday, November 29, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
"Selling out", "What have you done for me lately?" or "Nutjobs with no understanding of reality"--I couldn't decide on a title
Yahoo! News reports that Mary Landrieu (D-LA): "won $100 million in the legislation to help her state pay the costs of health care for the poor" in exchange for her vote in favor of the Senate health care debate. I would love to see a record of how many phone calls, emails, and personal visits to her office she received in opposition to this bill. Did she represent her constituents? That is all I would like to know. If so, then not only will they have the "free" healthcare they are looking for, they will get "free" healthcare to cover the gaps in the federal program, or, at least, "free" healthcare until the federal system takes effect five years from now. In that case, the next time she is up for re-election, everyone will know what she did for her district. It's a fine line between selling out and taking care of the people that elected her. And only her office knows where that line is drawn. While the rest of the nation is at 35% approval for this bill, it is possible that her constituents down in LA think this is a wonderful plan. Then she represented her peeps well and won them more money. It could be a win-win situation for them.
Maybe twice in the last few years I have watched a cable TV show entitled "Dr. 90210" that follows Dr Robert Rey in his Beverly Hills plastics practice. Until last night, I had not watched this show since Neil was working nights back in his fourth year of residency. I vaguely remembered that the guy was Brazilian and that his wife was clueless. Every time she had appeared on camera, the wife was complaining about her husband and his work hours. It can go without saying why this stuck with me.
Along the lines of Dr Rey's wife's attitude, nobody that I interact with on a regular basis can top the demands of Neil's job and, consequently, the demands placed upon me. While being told how much easier my husband's schedule is, or even, recently, how much easier a deployment is, irks me to no end, I attempt to muster some empathy. I try to remind myself that Christ would want me to forget about myself and concentrate on this person's struggles and needs. Something else that keeps me from engaging in one-upmanship is the recognition that, as hard as Neil's schedule might be for me, I have an easier time in life than 95% of the rest of the women in this world. In comparison to the myriad ways in which women are oppressed, whether through poverty, abuse, sexism, etc, what right do I have to complain? As a rule, I avoid this kind of competition for sympathy or recognition. It's not because I'm too good for it; rather, I recognize that if someone is trying that hard to convince me, they are trying to convince themselves. Or else they need the validation. But not this lady-she just had no idea what her life could be like. I would be surprised to find out that she married Dr Rey anytime before his fellowship at Harvard. There is no way she put him through medical school.
Last night I couldn't fall asleep, and the show happened to be on. In this episode, the wife's parents decide to move to a neighboring city in California. In a bizarre plot twist, Dr Rey doesn't get along well with his mother-in-law. Yet, his wife needs her parents nearby to help watch the kids every once in a while since she doesn't have a nanny and he continues to work long hours. (The Rey's have two children, maybe Zach and Audrey's ages.) I get that, but, to be honest, I can't figure out why the guy doesn't get her a nanny. Not only is he a partner in a lucrative plastics practice, he has a line of shapewear, he worked as a speech writer for a previous Surgeon General, he acts as a medical consultant for tv/film, and appears as a guest commentator for award shows. A nanny is not going to break the bank around his house.
Speaking of houses, his wife goes to look for a house for her parents to move into. The real estate agent shows her a "cute" house that's probably 4000 square feet. Mrs Rey was not excited about this house, so the real estate agent reveals her true intent with her client: First the agent brings up the local elementary schools, how great they are, then, how nice it would be to live so close to her parents, and wouldn't she like to look for a home for herself, as well. The dollar signs in that agent's eyes couldn't be more obvious. The vindictive part of me hopes that people saw this real estate agent on tv and won't trust her anymore.
They take Mrs Rey to this palace with a master closet as big as my current kitchen and breakfast area combined, maybe bigger. The wife is all, "This is the right place for my family." Next thing we know, the real estate agent calls her and wants an offer on the place the next day. Unfortunately, Mrs Rey hasn't mentioned the house to her husband. As soon as he walks in the door from work, she says that they're moving, it may be farther from his office, but she needs to be closer to her parents because of his schedule and that she wants to rescue more animals.
What? Where did that come from? The camera pans to a dog behind a baby gate outside of the kitchen.
His hard work leaves her no time for herself--again, what? the rational behind this is coming, wait for it--so she has decided he does not deserve a say in where they live...did she already say it's all because he works so much?
While that's not the actual transcription of her side of the argument, it's fairly close. And it fairly closely resembles the maturity of a five year old.
The new house will be 10,000 square feet (she's also lying-the real estate agent told her 11K), that it's only 9 Million Dollars, and she knows he can afford that. Apparently, their current 9ooo square foot house, with two pools, on half an acre with a grove of trees and fruit trees is not enough. Oh, have I mentioned that they live outside of Beverly Hills? Can you imagine how much the land under one of those pools would cost, let alone that entire package? I really couldn't watch anymore.
If you've ever complained to me about your husband's schedule, or life in general, please know that I really don't look at everyone as critically as I do this nutjob lady, or her real estate agent. I understand better than the average bear the difficulties of a busy husband, and so people vent to me all the time--I don't mind, really I don't. It's only complete strangers that have no sense of perspective, or reality, as the case might be, that raise my blood pressure.
That, and the politician that makes a deal with the proverbial devil. Or maybe it's the people who acts as agents for the proverbial devil. (And I don't mean the real estate agent.) I'm just saying.
Maybe twice in the last few years I have watched a cable TV show entitled "Dr. 90210" that follows Dr Robert Rey in his Beverly Hills plastics practice. Until last night, I had not watched this show since Neil was working nights back in his fourth year of residency. I vaguely remembered that the guy was Brazilian and that his wife was clueless. Every time she had appeared on camera, the wife was complaining about her husband and his work hours. It can go without saying why this stuck with me.
Along the lines of Dr Rey's wife's attitude, nobody that I interact with on a regular basis can top the demands of Neil's job and, consequently, the demands placed upon me. While being told how much easier my husband's schedule is, or even, recently, how much easier a deployment is, irks me to no end, I attempt to muster some empathy. I try to remind myself that Christ would want me to forget about myself and concentrate on this person's struggles and needs. Something else that keeps me from engaging in one-upmanship is the recognition that, as hard as Neil's schedule might be for me, I have an easier time in life than 95% of the rest of the women in this world. In comparison to the myriad ways in which women are oppressed, whether through poverty, abuse, sexism, etc, what right do I have to complain? As a rule, I avoid this kind of competition for sympathy or recognition. It's not because I'm too good for it; rather, I recognize that if someone is trying that hard to convince me, they are trying to convince themselves. Or else they need the validation. But not this lady-she just had no idea what her life could be like. I would be surprised to find out that she married Dr Rey anytime before his fellowship at Harvard. There is no way she put him through medical school.
Last night I couldn't fall asleep, and the show happened to be on. In this episode, the wife's parents decide to move to a neighboring city in California. In a bizarre plot twist, Dr Rey doesn't get along well with his mother-in-law. Yet, his wife needs her parents nearby to help watch the kids every once in a while since she doesn't have a nanny and he continues to work long hours. (The Rey's have two children, maybe Zach and Audrey's ages.) I get that, but, to be honest, I can't figure out why the guy doesn't get her a nanny. Not only is he a partner in a lucrative plastics practice, he has a line of shapewear, he worked as a speech writer for a previous Surgeon General, he acts as a medical consultant for tv/film, and appears as a guest commentator for award shows. A nanny is not going to break the bank around his house.
Speaking of houses, his wife goes to look for a house for her parents to move into. The real estate agent shows her a "cute" house that's probably 4000 square feet. Mrs Rey was not excited about this house, so the real estate agent reveals her true intent with her client: First the agent brings up the local elementary schools, how great they are, then, how nice it would be to live so close to her parents, and wouldn't she like to look for a home for herself, as well. The dollar signs in that agent's eyes couldn't be more obvious. The vindictive part of me hopes that people saw this real estate agent on tv and won't trust her anymore.
They take Mrs Rey to this palace with a master closet as big as my current kitchen and breakfast area combined, maybe bigger. The wife is all, "This is the right place for my family." Next thing we know, the real estate agent calls her and wants an offer on the place the next day. Unfortunately, Mrs Rey hasn't mentioned the house to her husband. As soon as he walks in the door from work, she says that they're moving, it may be farther from his office, but she needs to be closer to her parents because of his schedule and that she wants to rescue more animals.
What? Where did that come from? The camera pans to a dog behind a baby gate outside of the kitchen.
His hard work leaves her no time for herself--again, what? the rational behind this is coming, wait for it--so she has decided he does not deserve a say in where they live...did she already say it's all because he works so much?
While that's not the actual transcription of her side of the argument, it's fairly close. And it fairly closely resembles the maturity of a five year old.
The new house will be 10,000 square feet (she's also lying-the real estate agent told her 11K), that it's only 9 Million Dollars, and she knows he can afford that. Apparently, their current 9ooo square foot house, with two pools, on half an acre with a grove of trees and fruit trees is not enough. Oh, have I mentioned that they live outside of Beverly Hills? Can you imagine how much the land under one of those pools would cost, let alone that entire package? I really couldn't watch anymore.
If you've ever complained to me about your husband's schedule, or life in general, please know that I really don't look at everyone as critically as I do this nutjob lady, or her real estate agent. I understand better than the average bear the difficulties of a busy husband, and so people vent to me all the time--I don't mind, really I don't. It's only complete strangers that have no sense of perspective, or reality, as the case might be, that raise my blood pressure.
That, and the politician that makes a deal with the proverbial devil. Or maybe it's the people who acts as agents for the proverbial devil. (And I don't mean the real estate agent.) I'm just saying.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Zach pictures
Zach is at the County Fair with his Kinder Class.
The rest of the pictures are of Zach at his first soccer game. Notice his progression in the stretching. 
Audrey fixes her Jeep
Sydney's most recent composition
What I am thankful for
I am thankful for everything. Well...except for bad guys and all that. But what I'm most thankful for is my parents. I personally couldn't have asked for anything else. I'm really thankful for all of my family. Even though my 3 year old sister tries to bite off my head, I still have to love her, I mean you are going to be stuck with them forever. I also enjoy (well, kinda) having 2 other siblings. It's nice but I could live without the annoyingness sometimes.
The other thing I'm thankful for is my friends. I would be no where in my life without them. I love to be with my friends and be able to just have fun! Without them I'd just be in my room looking at the ceiling all day long.
I love my pets. When I get home they always welcome me with a huge party of tail wagging and a smile. A dog sort of smile. And when I get home I sometimes see our beta fish swimming around the tank.
I am thankful to be living in a free country. I love that those men and women are fighting for our freedom. I am very proud to say that my dad is Afghanistan, or that hotel that we stayed in while at Disney World, as Audrey refers to it.
Sydney McMullin
November 2009
Fayetteville, NC
PS-Note from Sarah: Audrey does think that Dad is staying in a hotel in Princess Afghanistan, similar to Princess Disney World. According to Audrey, he rides in helicopters, airplanes, talks to her, gets boxes in the mail, and takes care of his patients. I did fix most of the spelling in Sydney's essay, except for "annoyingness."
I am thankful for everything. Well...except for bad guys and all that. But what I'm most thankful for is my parents. I personally couldn't have asked for anything else. I'm really thankful for all of my family. Even though my 3 year old sister tries to bite off my head, I still have to love her, I mean you are going to be stuck with them forever. I also enjoy (well, kinda) having 2 other siblings. It's nice but I could live without the annoyingness sometimes.
The other thing I'm thankful for is my friends. I would be no where in my life without them. I love to be with my friends and be able to just have fun! Without them I'd just be in my room looking at the ceiling all day long.
I love my pets. When I get home they always welcome me with a huge party of tail wagging and a smile. A dog sort of smile. And when I get home I sometimes see our beta fish swimming around the tank.
I am thankful to be living in a free country. I love that those men and women are fighting for our freedom. I am very proud to say that my dad is Afghanistan, or that hotel that we stayed in while at Disney World, as Audrey refers to it.
Sydney McMullin
November 2009
Fayetteville, NC
PS-Note from Sarah: Audrey does think that Dad is staying in a hotel in Princess Afghanistan, similar to Princess Disney World. According to Audrey, he rides in helicopters, airplanes, talks to her, gets boxes in the mail, and takes care of his patients. I did fix most of the spelling in Sydney's essay, except for "annoyingness."
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Leadership Development
This week I am taking a class at Fort Bragg called "Army Family Team Building: Leadership Development." There are two classes leading up to this that are focused on an introduction to the Army and personal development. Somewhere along the way the Army decided that if they could teach their Army families the basics of what the Army is, does, and can provide for them, how to develop time management, effective communication, and how to lead, these families would require less of the Army's time and resources. Wow, what a concept!
Did you know that in order to receive WIC (Women Infant Children) coupons, the mother and child have to take a quarterly class about nutrition? Similarly, there are requirements for unemployment beneficiaries. Would it be possible to require to require Food Stamps and TANF recipients to take classes teaching them communication skills, time management, personality tests to judge what jobs might interest them, money management, non-monetary or human services gov't resources available to them? I don't know what kind of education would really benefit these families, but surely there is something that could help them that isn't easily attainable to an individual with limit resources.
Many of the lessons we have had included quizzes that test our leadership style, our conflict management style, our problem solving style...When I take these quizzes I do so through the lens of my work with the Auxiliary last year as well as through issues that they are experiencing this year. Another thing I have done is to retake the same quiz considering how I behave as a mother. It turns out I'm not as good at being a leader in my family as I am in a professional setting. How is that possible since I have never been a "professional," but I have been a mom longer than all but one of my friends? (Not to include older friends or family members.)
The section on delegating is a prime example of this. I could handle this at the hospital, but I am horrible at this at home. Maybe it's the fact that Neil's only two and a half jobs at home were changing high light bulbs, mowing the yard more often than I did, and fixing the occasional plumbing issue. Towards the end of our time in San Antonio, that plumbing was more of a nightly endeavor, but you get the point. I don't want to say that I do everything around here, but if I don't do something, it doesn't get done. I don't mind this and really don't even notice it now after all these years. That is just the reality of life with Neil's schedule. I would never dream of asking him to take on more responsibility and tasks than he already has on his plate. For sure there are times that Neil decides to run to the grocery store for me, or does the dishes, laundry or vacuum. It means a great deal to me when he tacks on my chores to his already crazy-busy days, when he carries my load for me. It's just the way things go that I do everything, so I forget that my kids are getting old enough to help me. Or else I am too busy or too tired to train them properly.
The other day, Sydney did a sink full of dishes for me. I'm not sure how she even reached the faucet or high cabinets, but she did it. There were some dishes that had to be redone the next time I did dishes because they weren't quite clean, but it was a wonderful break! (It's difficult to scrub so hard when your arms are the width of, say, a paper towel roll. An adorable paper towel roll, it's true.)
I have resolved to integrate these leadership skills into how I interact with my children. But not today. I don't know how you working moms do it. Where do you find time for anything? I got done with class at 2:30, picked up Audrey, picked up the kids, drove to the library for school project, grocery shopped for the next week, put away groceries, helped with homework, made dinner, took the kids to church activities, gave two baths, picked kids up, put them all to bed, did two loads of laundry, cleaned off the counter and kitchen table (but did no dishes), and watched an hour of TV. (Thank goodness for the DVR-I can watch the few shows I like and skip the commercials to save time.) I'm blogging while I wait for that laundry...
There are three more time intensive chores, plus two more baths that didn't get done tonight. Where do you find the energy to do all of this? I'm going to bed now and, fyi, I'm not going take a compensated job (I have had lots of uncompensated jobs, financially speaking) until I can find a job that will pay for a maid to do dishes and to vacuum up what Audrey lovingly calls "Dog-Lubber." AKA: dog fur. If I could harvest Yellow Lab fur into fuel for cars I would be a gazillionaire and wouldn't need a job.
Did you know that in order to receive WIC (Women Infant Children) coupons, the mother and child have to take a quarterly class about nutrition? Similarly, there are requirements for unemployment beneficiaries. Would it be possible to require to require Food Stamps and TANF recipients to take classes teaching them communication skills, time management, personality tests to judge what jobs might interest them, money management, non-monetary or human services gov't resources available to them? I don't know what kind of education would really benefit these families, but surely there is something that could help them that isn't easily attainable to an individual with limit resources.
Many of the lessons we have had included quizzes that test our leadership style, our conflict management style, our problem solving style...When I take these quizzes I do so through the lens of my work with the Auxiliary last year as well as through issues that they are experiencing this year. Another thing I have done is to retake the same quiz considering how I behave as a mother. It turns out I'm not as good at being a leader in my family as I am in a professional setting. How is that possible since I have never been a "professional," but I have been a mom longer than all but one of my friends? (Not to include older friends or family members.)
The section on delegating is a prime example of this. I could handle this at the hospital, but I am horrible at this at home. Maybe it's the fact that Neil's only two and a half jobs at home were changing high light bulbs, mowing the yard more often than I did, and fixing the occasional plumbing issue. Towards the end of our time in San Antonio, that plumbing was more of a nightly endeavor, but you get the point. I don't want to say that I do everything around here, but if I don't do something, it doesn't get done. I don't mind this and really don't even notice it now after all these years. That is just the reality of life with Neil's schedule. I would never dream of asking him to take on more responsibility and tasks than he already has on his plate. For sure there are times that Neil decides to run to the grocery store for me, or does the dishes, laundry or vacuum. It means a great deal to me when he tacks on my chores to his already crazy-busy days, when he carries my load for me. It's just the way things go that I do everything, so I forget that my kids are getting old enough to help me. Or else I am too busy or too tired to train them properly.
The other day, Sydney did a sink full of dishes for me. I'm not sure how she even reached the faucet or high cabinets, but she did it. There were some dishes that had to be redone the next time I did dishes because they weren't quite clean, but it was a wonderful break! (It's difficult to scrub so hard when your arms are the width of, say, a paper towel roll. An adorable paper towel roll, it's true.)
I have resolved to integrate these leadership skills into how I interact with my children. But not today. I don't know how you working moms do it. Where do you find time for anything? I got done with class at 2:30, picked up Audrey, picked up the kids, drove to the library for school project, grocery shopped for the next week, put away groceries, helped with homework, made dinner, took the kids to church activities, gave two baths, picked kids up, put them all to bed, did two loads of laundry, cleaned off the counter and kitchen table (but did no dishes), and watched an hour of TV. (Thank goodness for the DVR-I can watch the few shows I like and skip the commercials to save time.) I'm blogging while I wait for that laundry...
There are three more time intensive chores, plus two more baths that didn't get done tonight. Where do you find the energy to do all of this? I'm going to bed now and, fyi, I'm not going take a compensated job (I have had lots of uncompensated jobs, financially speaking) until I can find a job that will pay for a maid to do dishes and to vacuum up what Audrey lovingly calls "Dog-Lubber." AKA: dog fur. If I could harvest Yellow Lab fur into fuel for cars I would be a gazillionaire and wouldn't need a job.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Meerkats
I have a heavy heart today. Last week someone went missing from a poor area in Fayetteville. I knew that the search was large-scale and ongoing because I heard a police officer say that, while she normally works fraud, everyone was pulled onto this case.
As a rule, I avoid local news at all costs-every once in a while I read the paper while I sit in Chick Fil A, but that's it. So I barely paid attention to the stories about the missing person, until I heard today that they found the body of the little girl buried in a nearby forest. Later this afternoon I came across an earlier update on the case. How sad to read about the case after the tragic ending had been discovered.
It turns out that three or four weeks ago, this 8 month pregnant baby momma received custody of her 5 yr old daughter. The baby daddy who had custoday (not sure if there was an actual custody agreement--I doubt it.)apparently decided that since the baby momma had found someplace to stay and managed to hold down a job for 6 months he could trust her to care for their daughter. One to two weeks after this pretty little girl came to live with the baby momma, the lady sold her into slavery. As in human trafficking. As in a sex slave.
Once the lady reported her daughter missing, the police quickly arrested a man who turned out to be an ex-con with a felony as well as the new baby daddy for this lady. He wasn't guilty and is now suing the police department since he won't be able to find a job now that he's been accused of kidnapping and human trafficking. Someone else turned themselves in at some point, but had not revealed the location of the little girl. They found her body today. Ahhh.
If you've ever watched Meer Kat Manor, the alpha female, whatever her name is, has a billion fully grown children and keeps reproducing. Well, on one episode, one of her grown daughters makes the mistake of getting pregnant at the same time as her mother. (As if a female meerkat has much of a choice here...)So, the daughter meerkat has her baby first. The mother meerkat knows she is going into labor, so she moves the entire family/tribe/whatever meerkat groups are called far enough away that the daughter meerkat cannot find them. This is so that the rest of the tribe can protect her and her infant, find food for them, etc. There are not enough meerkats to help both meerkat moms. The grown daughter is left to either starve trying to protect her infant or to let the baby die when she leaves to find the rest of the family. It turns out that the daughter's baby meerkat died of natural causes.
How different is this baby momma from that meerkat mom? Opposable thumbs, free will, the ability to reason and think logically? From all I can tell, she can use her thumbs correctly. Maybe.
And yet, she is a daughter of God. Does He love her and weep for the logical, and possibly eternal, consequences of her actions? I think, how can He love her? I want to think, rather uncharitably, what a waste of carbon she is. Somehow, I think that in God's infinite and perfect ability to love His children, He separates the sinner from the sin.
Christ taught in Matthew 22 that all the law and the prophets (Read: commandments and teachings of the prophets) hang on the law to love God with all of our heart, soul, and mind and to love our neighbor as ourselves. I think that means that everything the Lord asks us to do will, if we do it, will enable and teach us to love as God loves us, as is described in 1 Corinthians 13. Surely the greatest exemplar of love, our Savior, loves unconditionally, even those people whose vile acts terrify me and break my heart.
And yet, the law of justice has to be fulfilled. I've heard so many people ask that justice be served in the case of this woman. When I first heard what she had done, I was thinking of bamboo under the fingernails, followed by water boarding, then Jack Bauer, then the death penalty. And then some.
While I think we can count on earthly consequences as well as those of a more eternal nature, I do not think I can deny her the love of probably the only Being in existence who would still love her. I cannot assign her a place in the eternities, even though I think I know what was in her heart and mind, or most likely, what was lacking there. If I would ask for mercy for myself, if I would ask for unconditional love for myself, I have to grant her those same requests. I don't know what happens to this lady when she is judged by the only One in a position to judge her and I don't know how the Savior intercedes for her and atones for her actions. Is true repentance, not a jail or death-bed conversion, from this kind of crime possible? I don't have an answer to that question.
What I do know is that the beautiful little girl has been welcomed home by her loving Father in heaven, has met and felt the love of her Savior, who showed us how He loved little children. To calm myself down, I remember that we reap what we sow, as will this lady. Then I am free to focus instead on how grateful I am to know that our Father's plan provides a means to overcome such sadness. Jesus suffered so that this little girl need not suffer anymore.
As a rule, I avoid local news at all costs-every once in a while I read the paper while I sit in Chick Fil A, but that's it. So I barely paid attention to the stories about the missing person, until I heard today that they found the body of the little girl buried in a nearby forest. Later this afternoon I came across an earlier update on the case. How sad to read about the case after the tragic ending had been discovered.
It turns out that three or four weeks ago, this 8 month pregnant baby momma received custody of her 5 yr old daughter. The baby daddy who had custoday (not sure if there was an actual custody agreement--I doubt it.)apparently decided that since the baby momma had found someplace to stay and managed to hold down a job for 6 months he could trust her to care for their daughter. One to two weeks after this pretty little girl came to live with the baby momma, the lady sold her into slavery. As in human trafficking. As in a sex slave.
Once the lady reported her daughter missing, the police quickly arrested a man who turned out to be an ex-con with a felony as well as the new baby daddy for this lady. He wasn't guilty and is now suing the police department since he won't be able to find a job now that he's been accused of kidnapping and human trafficking. Someone else turned themselves in at some point, but had not revealed the location of the little girl. They found her body today. Ahhh.
If you've ever watched Meer Kat Manor, the alpha female, whatever her name is, has a billion fully grown children and keeps reproducing. Well, on one episode, one of her grown daughters makes the mistake of getting pregnant at the same time as her mother. (As if a female meerkat has much of a choice here...)So, the daughter meerkat has her baby first. The mother meerkat knows she is going into labor, so she moves the entire family/tribe/whatever meerkat groups are called far enough away that the daughter meerkat cannot find them. This is so that the rest of the tribe can protect her and her infant, find food for them, etc. There are not enough meerkats to help both meerkat moms. The grown daughter is left to either starve trying to protect her infant or to let the baby die when she leaves to find the rest of the family. It turns out that the daughter's baby meerkat died of natural causes.
How different is this baby momma from that meerkat mom? Opposable thumbs, free will, the ability to reason and think logically? From all I can tell, she can use her thumbs correctly. Maybe.
And yet, she is a daughter of God. Does He love her and weep for the logical, and possibly eternal, consequences of her actions? I think, how can He love her? I want to think, rather uncharitably, what a waste of carbon she is. Somehow, I think that in God's infinite and perfect ability to love His children, He separates the sinner from the sin.
Christ taught in Matthew 22 that all the law and the prophets (Read: commandments and teachings of the prophets) hang on the law to love God with all of our heart, soul, and mind and to love our neighbor as ourselves. I think that means that everything the Lord asks us to do will, if we do it, will enable and teach us to love as God loves us, as is described in 1 Corinthians 13. Surely the greatest exemplar of love, our Savior, loves unconditionally, even those people whose vile acts terrify me and break my heart.
And yet, the law of justice has to be fulfilled. I've heard so many people ask that justice be served in the case of this woman. When I first heard what she had done, I was thinking of bamboo under the fingernails, followed by water boarding, then Jack Bauer, then the death penalty. And then some.
While I think we can count on earthly consequences as well as those of a more eternal nature, I do not think I can deny her the love of probably the only Being in existence who would still love her. I cannot assign her a place in the eternities, even though I think I know what was in her heart and mind, or most likely, what was lacking there. If I would ask for mercy for myself, if I would ask for unconditional love for myself, I have to grant her those same requests. I don't know what happens to this lady when she is judged by the only One in a position to judge her and I don't know how the Savior intercedes for her and atones for her actions. Is true repentance, not a jail or death-bed conversion, from this kind of crime possible? I don't have an answer to that question.
What I do know is that the beautiful little girl has been welcomed home by her loving Father in heaven, has met and felt the love of her Savior, who showed us how He loved little children. To calm myself down, I remember that we reap what we sow, as will this lady. Then I am free to focus instead on how grateful I am to know that our Father's plan provides a means to overcome such sadness. Jesus suffered so that this little girl need not suffer anymore.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Sydney
Yesterday Sydney's volleyball team played their final regular season game. There were many games this season that were over in 30 minutes because the other teams beat us pretty soundly. Normally, each "game" is 2 games, or matches, to 21 points. Before yesterday, Sydney's team won only one match. We yelled and cheered so loud when that happened that the other team's parents thought we were crazy and were slightly offended for their children.
Our game yesterday went to five games because we won two matches! We were all excited for our girls to have come so far this season. Again, we cheered louder than the other team's parents. In the fifth game, Sydney bumped a ball over the net, and it went un-returned. The game was tied 10-10 when the referees decided that the game would end at the next point. Maybe that is the way it always goes, but they told the teams as Sydney walked to the serving line.
Sydney had a good game yesterday, but she hadn't made any serves over. Sorry to say, I wasn't expecting this one to go over, either. It is important to remember that in normal volleyball, you only score a point when you are serving. If you aren't serving, the ball changes possession. In this league, teams get a point whenever the other team doesn't get the ball back over the net, regardless of who is serving. Sydney didn't get the serve over the net, so the other team won.
Poor Sydney had tears in her eyes as she walked away from the serving line to shake hands with the other team. When they were done I gave her a big hug, wiped her tears, and tried to comfort her broken heart. I was overwhelmed by the support and words of kindness from Sydney's teammates and from her parents. The girls that weren't as good friends with Sydney even came over to cheer her up. (There were times at practice when some girls would change places in line to avoid having Syd as their partner. It was painful to watch and worse to watch Sydney's face as she realized what they were doing.)
Sydney tried to explain how much pressure she felt to win the game for her team. Performing successfully under such intense pressure is the hallmark of a champion. It is a skill that will serve her well as she navigates the road to success in school: the first year that Sydney took the TAKS test, she had to take Tums each morning and night to settle her stomach. Some kids had to take ulcer medicine. It seems unfortunate to me as I didn't feel any test anxiety until I took the SAT for the second time, and our kids have to deal with it starting in third grade. (Note: I did worse the second time around on the SAT-maybe it was the pressure I wasn't used to dealing with.)
The sun finally came out yesterday, so we spent the entire afternoon in the yard. The kids put on helmets and climbed to the top of the magnolia tree-it's as high as our two-story house. I figured that, in the event that they actually fell, the helmets couldn't hurt. I raked leaves and pine needles until dark and I'm not done-that's how hard it rained all week and how many trees I have.
I used to wonder why my grandfather didn't clear the land around his house, plant grass, and leave a few trees up. Now I know. I remember how long it took to have both driveways swept and I can't imagine having to rake up leaves from all those trees on his property.
Neil posted a TV news link on his blog that is the story of one of his church friends in Afghanistan who made it home for R&R on Veteran's Day. It served as a great reminder to me of how mindful the Lord is of us. www.neilonthemoon.blogspot.com
Our game yesterday went to five games because we won two matches! We were all excited for our girls to have come so far this season. Again, we cheered louder than the other team's parents. In the fifth game, Sydney bumped a ball over the net, and it went un-returned. The game was tied 10-10 when the referees decided that the game would end at the next point. Maybe that is the way it always goes, but they told the teams as Sydney walked to the serving line.
Sydney had a good game yesterday, but she hadn't made any serves over. Sorry to say, I wasn't expecting this one to go over, either. It is important to remember that in normal volleyball, you only score a point when you are serving. If you aren't serving, the ball changes possession. In this league, teams get a point whenever the other team doesn't get the ball back over the net, regardless of who is serving. Sydney didn't get the serve over the net, so the other team won.
Poor Sydney had tears in her eyes as she walked away from the serving line to shake hands with the other team. When they were done I gave her a big hug, wiped her tears, and tried to comfort her broken heart. I was overwhelmed by the support and words of kindness from Sydney's teammates and from her parents. The girls that weren't as good friends with Sydney even came over to cheer her up. (There were times at practice when some girls would change places in line to avoid having Syd as their partner. It was painful to watch and worse to watch Sydney's face as she realized what they were doing.)
Sydney tried to explain how much pressure she felt to win the game for her team. Performing successfully under such intense pressure is the hallmark of a champion. It is a skill that will serve her well as she navigates the road to success in school: the first year that Sydney took the TAKS test, she had to take Tums each morning and night to settle her stomach. Some kids had to take ulcer medicine. It seems unfortunate to me as I didn't feel any test anxiety until I took the SAT for the second time, and our kids have to deal with it starting in third grade. (Note: I did worse the second time around on the SAT-maybe it was the pressure I wasn't used to dealing with.)
The sun finally came out yesterday, so we spent the entire afternoon in the yard. The kids put on helmets and climbed to the top of the magnolia tree-it's as high as our two-story house. I figured that, in the event that they actually fell, the helmets couldn't hurt. I raked leaves and pine needles until dark and I'm not done-that's how hard it rained all week and how many trees I have.
I used to wonder why my grandfather didn't clear the land around his house, plant grass, and leave a few trees up. Now I know. I remember how long it took to have both driveways swept and I can't imagine having to rake up leaves from all those trees on his property.
Neil posted a TV news link on his blog that is the story of one of his church friends in Afghanistan who made it home for R&R on Veteran's Day. It served as a great reminder to me of how mindful the Lord is of us. www.neilonthemoon.blogspot.com
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Weather and my husband, MacGyver
I have to make one statement about my last post, well maybe two: 1) it is possible that the guy from Ft Hood showed us what he thought prior to last week through the posts on blogs, communication with alleged extremists, sending money to Pakistan, 2) a psychiatrist shouldn't need the same excuse to compensate for an inability to communicate orally, as my five year old does, so people should have probably believed him before he got this far.
Today was the coldest winter day I've experienced in years. The ice storm while we were in SA was a true winter storm, but I did not step foot outside my house that entire three days, so that doesn't count. Yesterday, the wind blow three of our umbrellas inside out. Today it was below 50, raining, and blowing the flags straight out to the side while I walked around in my rain coat, fleece pants, a tshirt, and flipflops. Fortunately, one of my friends had previously volunteered to watch my kids so that I could have a few hours to myself. I went shopping and now own my first ever pair of rain boots. Last week I bought a puffy mid-lenght white coat. The matching belt lends moral support rather than actually creating a waistline. Zach keeps telling me that his puffy coat (I think the trade name is frost-free) makes him look fat and chubby. I let him go without it once today so that he could see the difference it makes when he walks outside. Audrey took her coat off everytime we rode in the car, so I stood in the rain, under my newly broken umbrella, hastily pulling on her coat and doing the zipper.
Neil updated his blog with a few pictures and stories. The pictures definitely needed explaining, so read the stories first. There was one guy with what looked like wound dressing on his abdomen and then an ace bandage around his face, with some tubes. Neil and another guy are posing next to him and smiling. I could not understand how this was a happy moment. Apparently, Neil and his buddy MacGyver'd some stuff to make a mask that helped this guy to live. The next shot was of a person on the operating table, or should I say operating stretcher. The DeWalt cordless power drill looked a little out of place on the stand next to the other surgical tools. It turns out that Neil used the power drill to stabilize a fracture instead of doing it by hand. Either way, it sounds like controlled trauma at it's painful best and should remind us how much we love our anesthesiologist. I mentioned the blog and the power drill to the DeWalt marketing department because wouldn't you like to know if something you made helped to save someone's life? www.neilonthemoon.blogspot.com
One more thing about the weather-I had to get gas today. Unluckily for me, I stopped at the one remaining station on the eastern seaboard that does not have pay at the pump capability. As I sloshed through the rain in my flip flops, with my broken umbrella, I don't think I have ever been more excited to go shopping. I retired the broken umbrella, but didn't have to replace it as I bought four umbrellas back in August, when we were trying to beat Seattle at it's own game.
I know weather might seem boring, but when it's the worst winter day I can remember, and it's not yet the middle of November, it's really interesting to me. I wonder what it will be like here when it's the end of January.
Today was the coldest winter day I've experienced in years. The ice storm while we were in SA was a true winter storm, but I did not step foot outside my house that entire three days, so that doesn't count. Yesterday, the wind blow three of our umbrellas inside out. Today it was below 50, raining, and blowing the flags straight out to the side while I walked around in my rain coat, fleece pants, a tshirt, and flipflops. Fortunately, one of my friends had previously volunteered to watch my kids so that I could have a few hours to myself. I went shopping and now own my first ever pair of rain boots. Last week I bought a puffy mid-lenght white coat. The matching belt lends moral support rather than actually creating a waistline. Zach keeps telling me that his puffy coat (I think the trade name is frost-free) makes him look fat and chubby. I let him go without it once today so that he could see the difference it makes when he walks outside. Audrey took her coat off everytime we rode in the car, so I stood in the rain, under my newly broken umbrella, hastily pulling on her coat and doing the zipper.
Neil updated his blog with a few pictures and stories. The pictures definitely needed explaining, so read the stories first. There was one guy with what looked like wound dressing on his abdomen and then an ace bandage around his face, with some tubes. Neil and another guy are posing next to him and smiling. I could not understand how this was a happy moment. Apparently, Neil and his buddy MacGyver'd some stuff to make a mask that helped this guy to live. The next shot was of a person on the operating table, or should I say operating stretcher. The DeWalt cordless power drill looked a little out of place on the stand next to the other surgical tools. It turns out that Neil used the power drill to stabilize a fracture instead of doing it by hand. Either way, it sounds like controlled trauma at it's painful best and should remind us how much we love our anesthesiologist. I mentioned the blog and the power drill to the DeWalt marketing department because wouldn't you like to know if something you made helped to save someone's life? www.neilonthemoon.blogspot.com
One more thing about the weather-I had to get gas today. Unluckily for me, I stopped at the one remaining station on the eastern seaboard that does not have pay at the pump capability. As I sloshed through the rain in my flip flops, with my broken umbrella, I don't think I have ever been more excited to go shopping. I retired the broken umbrella, but didn't have to replace it as I bought four umbrellas back in August, when we were trying to beat Seattle at it's own game.
I know weather might seem boring, but when it's the worst winter day I can remember, and it's not yet the middle of November, it's really interesting to me. I wonder what it will be like here when it's the end of January.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Show v Tell
I have mentioned that Phinneus and Ferb is the tv show du jour at our house. Recently, Zach decided that he wanted to build a tree house in the back yard. We have the tools, we have the trees, what more could we need, right? Phinneus and Ferb built two robotic tree houses, and Zach loved that idea. In an attempt to stall, I reminded him of the blueprints P&F use each episode. An hour later, we had a stack of twenty blue prints. It was easier and more enjoyable for Zach to explain his plans than to tell us his ideas without a drawing.
A few days earlier, Zach informed me that he was going to be an Army soldier, then a doctor, then an astronaut, and then he was going to work for Santa building toys. (He promised Ainsley to bring her the kitty that I told her would not be coming to our house.) Once Zach began drawing up his blueprints, he decided to add builder to the list of jobs. His first blueprints and also his first job would be to build a Taco Cabana in North Carolina. When I found a library book about building tree houses, including blueprints, it was a miracle. Here I could encourage him to read about something that truly interested him. Zach asked me why it is called a blueprint when all of his are on white paper? Shouldn't they be white prints instead?
I have been reading "The Way of Boys," written by a Harvard behavioral therapist who works with young boys. It is an interesting discussion of why boys are being diagnosed with ADHD, speech delays, oppositional/defiant disorders, labeled "bullies" or "aggressive", and are being kicked out of schools. All before the age of 5. Zach is making much more sense to me these days. Apparently Zach is showing me that he needs to move by scratching his ears, then tapping his feet, then bouncing on the couch, then by doing headstands next to the couch. He doesn't come out and say, "I have energy that I don't know what to do with." Sometimes Zach asks me how aliens breath in space if there is no air, then what do they breathe, then what happens to us in space, then why is the sky blue and space is black. Here he demonstrates his curiosity about how things work and that he has been thinking of his new book from Dad, "Skippy Jon Jones Lost in Spice" instead of telling me that he enjoys this book.
Last week, the Army community was shocked by the shootings at Ft Hood. From what I can tell, this is all going to get more complicated and difficult before it gets easier. It is amazing, and tragic, to live in a world where it is almost impossible to discover the true victim(s) and to figure out where to lay the blame. Everyone has a different answer for us. Nothing happens in a vacuum, so I think there will end up being more victims than the fallen and more people to blame than the shooter.
I enjoy writing and there are days that I feel deeply the need to express my feelings and ideas or to describe events. It's been years since I studied writing in school, so I find library books to refresh my memory. There is a concept that published fiction writers incorporate successfully: Show, don't tell. I don't remember learning this idea, but that's not to say it wasn't explained to me. Unfortunately, many things my high school teachers said went in one ear and out the other. Looking back, I'm not sure how I ever graduated.
Anyway, here is an example of telling:
"She felt angry. She wanted to scream and to punch the wall. When she asked why they would not do it, she could tell that they were afraid of her. How could she make them understand that this was serious? Suddenly, she remembered the email from last week. This would help, she thought."
Here is an example of showing, with a minimum of telling:
"Her hand slammed down on the table as she screamed in frustration. As she stood up, her chair crashed on the floor behind her.
She cried out, 'Why won't you do it? Can't you see how important this is?'
When she stopped to take a breath, she realized that no one was looking at her. One man shuffled the papers in front of him. Someone else stared at their folded hands. Another lady hunched down in her seat.
She looked up to the spot where the ceiling meets the wall, pleading with her eyes, perhaps for the chance to start over, or possibly for a way to get through to these people. Or maybe for the ceiling to cave in to put her out of her misery. Whatever she had expected wasn't happening. After a minute, she looked down the length of the table and noticed an open laptop.
'The email! That's it!' She didn't realize she had said this aloud until someone pushed the laptop to face her. She took a deep breath, ran her fingers over the keyboard to retrieve the note, and smiled as she began to read."
You can see how much more we learn when showing and telling are combined. I'd never thought about this until recently; now I look for it in every book I read. Just like with Zach's dreams of building tree houses, I understand him better when he points out the special features in his blue prints while he describes them. And, unfortunately, just like the alleged gunman from Ft Hood: I've heard he tried to tell people what was going on, what was on his mind, but no one truly understood until he showed them.
A few days earlier, Zach informed me that he was going to be an Army soldier, then a doctor, then an astronaut, and then he was going to work for Santa building toys. (He promised Ainsley to bring her the kitty that I told her would not be coming to our house.) Once Zach began drawing up his blueprints, he decided to add builder to the list of jobs. His first blueprints and also his first job would be to build a Taco Cabana in North Carolina. When I found a library book about building tree houses, including blueprints, it was a miracle. Here I could encourage him to read about something that truly interested him. Zach asked me why it is called a blueprint when all of his are on white paper? Shouldn't they be white prints instead?
I have been reading "The Way of Boys," written by a Harvard behavioral therapist who works with young boys. It is an interesting discussion of why boys are being diagnosed with ADHD, speech delays, oppositional/defiant disorders, labeled "bullies" or "aggressive", and are being kicked out of schools. All before the age of 5. Zach is making much more sense to me these days. Apparently Zach is showing me that he needs to move by scratching his ears, then tapping his feet, then bouncing on the couch, then by doing headstands next to the couch. He doesn't come out and say, "I have energy that I don't know what to do with." Sometimes Zach asks me how aliens breath in space if there is no air, then what do they breathe, then what happens to us in space, then why is the sky blue and space is black. Here he demonstrates his curiosity about how things work and that he has been thinking of his new book from Dad, "Skippy Jon Jones Lost in Spice" instead of telling me that he enjoys this book.
Last week, the Army community was shocked by the shootings at Ft Hood. From what I can tell, this is all going to get more complicated and difficult before it gets easier. It is amazing, and tragic, to live in a world where it is almost impossible to discover the true victim(s) and to figure out where to lay the blame. Everyone has a different answer for us. Nothing happens in a vacuum, so I think there will end up being more victims than the fallen and more people to blame than the shooter.
I enjoy writing and there are days that I feel deeply the need to express my feelings and ideas or to describe events. It's been years since I studied writing in school, so I find library books to refresh my memory. There is a concept that published fiction writers incorporate successfully: Show, don't tell. I don't remember learning this idea, but that's not to say it wasn't explained to me. Unfortunately, many things my high school teachers said went in one ear and out the other. Looking back, I'm not sure how I ever graduated.
Anyway, here is an example of telling:
"She felt angry. She wanted to scream and to punch the wall. When she asked why they would not do it, she could tell that they were afraid of her. How could she make them understand that this was serious? Suddenly, she remembered the email from last week. This would help, she thought."
Here is an example of showing, with a minimum of telling:
"Her hand slammed down on the table as she screamed in frustration. As she stood up, her chair crashed on the floor behind her.
She cried out, 'Why won't you do it? Can't you see how important this is?'
When she stopped to take a breath, she realized that no one was looking at her. One man shuffled the papers in front of him. Someone else stared at their folded hands. Another lady hunched down in her seat.
She looked up to the spot where the ceiling meets the wall, pleading with her eyes, perhaps for the chance to start over, or possibly for a way to get through to these people. Or maybe for the ceiling to cave in to put her out of her misery. Whatever she had expected wasn't happening. After a minute, she looked down the length of the table and noticed an open laptop.
'The email! That's it!' She didn't realize she had said this aloud until someone pushed the laptop to face her. She took a deep breath, ran her fingers over the keyboard to retrieve the note, and smiled as she began to read."
You can see how much more we learn when showing and telling are combined. I'd never thought about this until recently; now I look for it in every book I read. Just like with Zach's dreams of building tree houses, I understand him better when he points out the special features in his blue prints while he describes them. And, unfortunately, just like the alleged gunman from Ft Hood: I've heard he tried to tell people what was going on, what was on his mind, but no one truly understood until he showed them.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Change: political philosophy and economics
My Internet stopped working yesterday; I tried to unplug modems, etc, to no avail. Finally, Neil called me this morning to troubleshoot. As I sat down to the PC, it started working again. We scared it into submission.
Yesterday on Facebook, I made a comment on one of Joe Biden's recent speeches. To paraphrase, Biden knew what Republicans, or conservatives- I can't remember which word he used, were against, but he didn't know what they were for. My comment was that he should head back to high school government class to learn what conservatives are "for."
I envisioned a platform of pro-military, free market economy, less government regulation or interference...
To make a long story short, a good friend from back in the day thought that conservatives needed the same refresher course since we don't know what we're for either.
Republican politicians, I said, possibly, but I know what I stand for.
So the next round of comments was a set of definitions for the word "conservative":
As I thought about those definitions, I had to agree with him. I admit that I googled bourgeois as I was in college the last time I heard that word used in it's intended context. And I had to think through what was meant by "materialistic." All I could come up with was that materialism and standards of the middle class meant capitalism.
I don't agree with change for the sake of change; action for the sake of action. Many people voted for Obama because they wanted him to be the first black President, some were in favor of his political and social theories, but many simply wanted a change from the status quo. They reasoned that anything Obama offered would be better than the last eight years.
Is it possible to forget that not all change leads to positive results? Could we have proposed changes based on evidence-statistics, facts? What about change prompted by further education or world experience? What we have now is action simply to say that we did something. Or change in the guise of rescue that leads in the direction of failed political systems from the past.
I thought one of the greatest failures of the Katrina aftermath were those debit cards for $2000. Throwing money at a problem is a key example of action for the sake of action. The victims couldn't say we didn't do anything for them-that was the mindset of the powers that be. Why on earth couldn't someone figure out that what these people needed, first and foremost, would be food to keep them alive. Why not automatically enroll these people in WIC and foodstamps. The programs were there, the accountability measures were in place, and they could give people $800/month for a family of 5 and enough WIC coupons to buy 8 gallons of milk every month, carrots, peanut butter, cereal, baby food and formula, beans, juice. Next would be non-urgent medical care and prescriptions. Medicaid cards to everyone. Coordinate with the state and local offices in LA. Maybe the gov't did that. My guess is that many of these victims were already beneficiaries of all of these programs. Then it would be possible to move on to toiletries/sanitary issues, clothing and long-term shelter. Why didn't they consider the organizational structure of the army? There are groups of thousands, groups of hundreds, groups of fifty, and groups of tens. Surely that is a better way to handle a mass of humanity than stuffing them all inside the Astrodome.
Hindsight is 50/50, but these programs and ideas were already in use by the same government making the decisions. It would have been ideal to take a breath, consider the administrative systems of our government services, and then act with at least a chance at success, backed by analysis of actual facts, numbers, manuals full of best practices-anything other than a shot in the dark. (On a side note, Stephen Covey suggests that the ability to take that breath in the midst of a trial or tense situation, serves to, among other things, separate us from other animals. Or maybe that's what I took away from this concept; either way, please read his book "7 Habits..." for the actual explanation.)
As I read more about the bourgeoisie, I read about the state bourgeoisie as well. The bourgeoisie are people who privately own the means of production and use workers, or employees, to increase their profits. The whole class warfare issue stems from the conflict between the production owners and the employees, and the capitalist is the bad guy. From what I understand of the state bourgeoisie, the members of a communist government control all the means of production in an economy. They are basically the same kind of people as the bourgeoisie we conservatives are compared to, but use the medium of government to increase in power, instead of profits, as a result of the work done by the wage laborers. As long as there are means of production, there will be a need for someone to control them, to direct their use: There is either a capitalist or the public servant. Does this idea mean something different to you today than it would have a year ago?
What this all boils down to is the question of whose responsibility is it to make an individual, a community, a nation, successful, from a socio-economic standpoint? If you agree with Obama, only the federal government is large enough to handle these problems. No one else will care for the poor, so we will do it and we will force people to do it with us. No one else will look after the well-being of their employees, so we will do it and we will force you to do it with us. No one else can tackle health care reform, so we will do it.
Or if you remember what you learned in high school government, and agree with me, governments exist to fix problems that were too big or costly for the private sector: roads, national defense. Is there anything else that I should add? Local law enforcement probably falls under the same tent, but it is obviously handled locally.
Did you know that our Gross Domestic Product is made up of Consumption by consumers, Investment by businesses, and spending by Government. Apparently the GDP went up recently, due to the influx of government dollars. But did you know that only two forms of gov't spending lead to actual increases in consumption and investment: money spent on infrastructure and national defense. If people feel safe, they will spend their money. If businesses know that the country is stable, they will invest and seek to grow their business, right?
In an attempt to avoid the emotional, hate-filled, agenda-driven soundbites that the media throws at us, I will say that this doesn't have to be a good guy v bad guy scenario. It comes down to whether someone believes in the ability of a free market economy, which is the absence of any economic system, crutches, restraints, or regulations, to provide economic stimulus and an increase in individual liberties. Some people feel that the federal government is better equipped, can better ensure that citizens are not exploited along the path of production, is large enough to handle the problems facing our nation today, and, therefore, carries this responsibility. At least, that's what I guess, since I can't speak for them.
I could spend another entire blog discussing whose responsibility it is to instill moral sensitivity and to care for the poor and needy among us, so I won't get into that.
If you couldn't tell, I happen to believe in the power of a free market economy. Unfortunately, the size and scope of our federal government at this point in history inhibits the free-market portion of our economy. People say the market failed in the housing, banking, automobile, and health-care industries, but we never saw the market act on it's own; it has been fettered by government regulations. If we let the market truly take it's course, we would see our country take a different, and I think ultimately more successful, path to recovery.
Yes, if you doubted before, you are now fully aware of what a dork I am. Sorry to take the liberty to write about something as dull as political philosophy and economics. You might ask if I have a life-the answer is only occasionally-less so with Neil in Afghanistan. This Facebook conversation really got to me, and, as it is not possible to demonstrate any level of depth on FB, I needed to write about it here.
Tomorrow I will post pics of Zach and tell stories about his new-found love of blueprints. Or why they should be called "white-prints."
Yesterday on Facebook, I made a comment on one of Joe Biden's recent speeches. To paraphrase, Biden knew what Republicans, or conservatives- I can't remember which word he used, were against, but he didn't know what they were for. My comment was that he should head back to high school government class to learn what conservatives are "for."
I envisioned a platform of pro-military, free market economy, less government regulation or interference...
To make a long story short, a good friend from back in the day thought that conservatives needed the same refresher course since we don't know what we're for either.
Republican politicians, I said, possibly, but I know what I stand for.
So the next round of comments was a set of definitions for the word "conservative":
- reluctant to change or to accept new ideas, resistant to change
- bourgeois, materialistic, conforming to the standards and conventions of the middle class, as in a bourgeois mentality.
As I thought about those definitions, I had to agree with him. I admit that I googled bourgeois as I was in college the last time I heard that word used in it's intended context. And I had to think through what was meant by "materialistic." All I could come up with was that materialism and standards of the middle class meant capitalism.
I don't agree with change for the sake of change; action for the sake of action. Many people voted for Obama because they wanted him to be the first black President, some were in favor of his political and social theories, but many simply wanted a change from the status quo. They reasoned that anything Obama offered would be better than the last eight years.
Is it possible to forget that not all change leads to positive results? Could we have proposed changes based on evidence-statistics, facts? What about change prompted by further education or world experience? What we have now is action simply to say that we did something. Or change in the guise of rescue that leads in the direction of failed political systems from the past.
I thought one of the greatest failures of the Katrina aftermath were those debit cards for $2000. Throwing money at a problem is a key example of action for the sake of action. The victims couldn't say we didn't do anything for them-that was the mindset of the powers that be. Why on earth couldn't someone figure out that what these people needed, first and foremost, would be food to keep them alive. Why not automatically enroll these people in WIC and foodstamps. The programs were there, the accountability measures were in place, and they could give people $800/month for a family of 5 and enough WIC coupons to buy 8 gallons of milk every month, carrots, peanut butter, cereal, baby food and formula, beans, juice. Next would be non-urgent medical care and prescriptions. Medicaid cards to everyone. Coordinate with the state and local offices in LA. Maybe the gov't did that. My guess is that many of these victims were already beneficiaries of all of these programs. Then it would be possible to move on to toiletries/sanitary issues, clothing and long-term shelter. Why didn't they consider the organizational structure of the army? There are groups of thousands, groups of hundreds, groups of fifty, and groups of tens. Surely that is a better way to handle a mass of humanity than stuffing them all inside the Astrodome.
Hindsight is 50/50, but these programs and ideas were already in use by the same government making the decisions. It would have been ideal to take a breath, consider the administrative systems of our government services, and then act with at least a chance at success, backed by analysis of actual facts, numbers, manuals full of best practices-anything other than a shot in the dark. (On a side note, Stephen Covey suggests that the ability to take that breath in the midst of a trial or tense situation, serves to, among other things, separate us from other animals. Or maybe that's what I took away from this concept; either way, please read his book "7 Habits..." for the actual explanation.)
As I read more about the bourgeoisie, I read about the state bourgeoisie as well. The bourgeoisie are people who privately own the means of production and use workers, or employees, to increase their profits. The whole class warfare issue stems from the conflict between the production owners and the employees, and the capitalist is the bad guy. From what I understand of the state bourgeoisie, the members of a communist government control all the means of production in an economy. They are basically the same kind of people as the bourgeoisie we conservatives are compared to, but use the medium of government to increase in power, instead of profits, as a result of the work done by the wage laborers. As long as there are means of production, there will be a need for someone to control them, to direct their use: There is either a capitalist or the public servant. Does this idea mean something different to you today than it would have a year ago?
What this all boils down to is the question of whose responsibility is it to make an individual, a community, a nation, successful, from a socio-economic standpoint? If you agree with Obama, only the federal government is large enough to handle these problems. No one else will care for the poor, so we will do it and we will force people to do it with us. No one else will look after the well-being of their employees, so we will do it and we will force you to do it with us. No one else can tackle health care reform, so we will do it.
Or if you remember what you learned in high school government, and agree with me, governments exist to fix problems that were too big or costly for the private sector: roads, national defense. Is there anything else that I should add? Local law enforcement probably falls under the same tent, but it is obviously handled locally.
Did you know that our Gross Domestic Product is made up of Consumption by consumers, Investment by businesses, and spending by Government. Apparently the GDP went up recently, due to the influx of government dollars. But did you know that only two forms of gov't spending lead to actual increases in consumption and investment: money spent on infrastructure and national defense. If people feel safe, they will spend their money. If businesses know that the country is stable, they will invest and seek to grow their business, right?
In an attempt to avoid the emotional, hate-filled, agenda-driven soundbites that the media throws at us, I will say that this doesn't have to be a good guy v bad guy scenario. It comes down to whether someone believes in the ability of a free market economy, which is the absence of any economic system, crutches, restraints, or regulations, to provide economic stimulus and an increase in individual liberties. Some people feel that the federal government is better equipped, can better ensure that citizens are not exploited along the path of production, is large enough to handle the problems facing our nation today, and, therefore, carries this responsibility. At least, that's what I guess, since I can't speak for them.
I could spend another entire blog discussing whose responsibility it is to instill moral sensitivity and to care for the poor and needy among us, so I won't get into that.
If you couldn't tell, I happen to believe in the power of a free market economy. Unfortunately, the size and scope of our federal government at this point in history inhibits the free-market portion of our economy. People say the market failed in the housing, banking, automobile, and health-care industries, but we never saw the market act on it's own; it has been fettered by government regulations. If we let the market truly take it's course, we would see our country take a different, and I think ultimately more successful, path to recovery.
Yes, if you doubted before, you are now fully aware of what a dork I am. Sorry to take the liberty to write about something as dull as political philosophy and economics. You might ask if I have a life-the answer is only occasionally-less so with Neil in Afghanistan. This Facebook conversation really got to me, and, as it is not possible to demonstrate any level of depth on FB, I needed to write about it here.
Tomorrow I will post pics of Zach and tell stories about his new-found love of blueprints. Or why they should be called "white-prints."
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Ainsley Halloween
Ainsley is Gabriela from High School Musical III. She used my gold Neiman Marcus purse to collect candy as it matched the glam feel of her "prom dress." We curled her hair, but the humidity killed it by the time we took pictures.
Zach Halloween
Zach is Captain Cody from Star Wars the Clone Wars.
Here, Zach attempts to make a serious Clone Trooper face.Audrey, the Pop Star
Audrey loves the song "Supergirl" by Hannah Montana and decided to be a pop star for Halloween. She loved to watch the sequins on this dress sparkle in the light.
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