Temporary Insanity

How do I know I was temporarily insane yesterday? I went shopping in the real world.

I appreciate the plight of retail clerks. I was one. Though my career in that field was relatively short (I did a 2 year stint at Sears as a shoe salesman and then a couple years managing a women’s shoe store), I understand the pressure they are under. It’s no fun dealing with rude customers, long hours, weekend work, low pay, and much more.

Once in a while, though, I run into folks that work retail that really should be in the stock room packing and unpacking boxes instead of interfacing with customers.

Yesterday I ran into 5 of them in two different stores…within 20 minutes.

Last week I bought the new version of the Blackberry Curve. It was a pleasant experience as I actually had the full attention of the salesman, I knew my user name and password for my existing account (speeding up the transfer process), and the phone is awesome.

Yesterday I decided to pick up some gel cases for the phone and a memory card to hold all the music, video and photos I want to carry around with me (the ones that wont fit into my 16gig iTouch). A bit gadgeterialy excessive, but then again…I am compelled by some inner force I can’t control.

I stopped by an AT&T (formerly Cingular) store and was greeted with the offensive stink of some sort of combination of pizza, Shane’s Rib Shack ribs and, I think, curry. Two AT&T sales reps sat at their desks with customers finalizing deals with each of them for new phones. One of them acknowledged my arrival and said “We’ll be right with you.”

Ok. No problem. I went right over to the accessories, picked up a case of gels, grabbed a 2gig card and stood patiently near the sales desks. After 15 minutes of listening to both reps SLOWLY go through the sales process and each chit-chat about what they got for Christmas, what movies were they going to see this weekend, and that Chad was gong to have a big New Years party at his house and that Alisa was not invited, and so much, much more…I realized that there was probably another 10-15 minutes of waiting in my immediate future. I set the cheap case of gels on the counter, laid next to it the memory card, and walked out of the store.

I decided to go to the “big’ AT&T (formerly Cingular) store in Cool Springs, knowing they both had more staff to help, AND, didn’t allow that staff to eat stinky rotten lunch food on the sales floor. As soon as I walked in I was approached and greeted by a lovely lady who asked if she could help me.

“Absolutely” I said, and proceeded to tell her what I needed. She walked me over to the phone case section, pulled out exactly what I needed, headed over to memory cards and pulled the 2gig card for me as well. I noticed there was a 4gig card next to it and pointed and smiled like a little kid and said “mmm…I want that one!”

“I’m sorry sir, your particular model of Blackberry is only designed at this time to manage a maximum 2gig memory card.” So, I have a reason to get the newer phone in a few months it seems.

She handed the two items to me, walked me to the sales counter and said “they can check you out here- have a happy new year!” Wow, so kind and helpful. It ended there.

I stood in front of the counter with 4 people behind it. Person #1 on my far left was talking on his cell phone. Person #2 in front of me was on her stool sideways talking to person #3 who was engaged on his computer. Person #4 was intently working on his computer as well. I waited patiently. No one acknowledged I was standing there. A minute went by. Then 2, and finally 3. I was checking my Blackberry that was eagerly awaiting to try on it’s new gel case.

A bit after the 3 minute mark, when none of the 4 even looked up at me, I kinda lost it. I put my Blackberry down, along side the gel cases and memory card, and did something a bit wacky. I jumped 3 big jumping jacks, waving my hands wildly, and said, too loudly, “Hello! I’m here!”

The store went quiet (there were probably 7 or 8 customers in the store, and about as many staff). The 4 sales people snapped to attention to see what crazy person was making all the noise and they all locked eyes on me for the first time. “Thank you! I said- I was beginning to think you guys couldn’t see me.” I said this with a pleasant smile on my face and in a joking manner so as to let them know I wasn’t as crazy as they must think. Kind of like, wow, isn’t it funny I just did that? Person #2 said, as she then turned to get busy on her computer, “we’ll be right with you sir.” The other 3 went back to whatever they were doing.

The friendly greeter came over with a smile and said “I’m sorry- hey guys, could someone check this customer out, he’s just buying accessories.” Person # 2 said “we’ll be right with him.” My kind protector, the greeter lady, walked away.

I stood there for another minute with no end in sight and then addressed the four once more in a much more quiet and gentle voice, saying “I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to walk out of here right now with this stuff without paying. If you would like me to pay, just let me know before I leave.”

Just then greeter lady returned with the manager and he asked person #4 to please take care of me right now. He did. As I left greeter girl apologized and explained they were really busy.

Reconfirmed for me that I need to do and buy EVERYTHING online that I can.

I’m Alive

The rumors of my death, and that of my blog, are greatly exaggerated.

To say I have been busy just does not do justice to my inability to spend even one moment writing. I haven’t even visited my blog or any other blog, much less posted anything, in almost 2 months. I guess not much has changed recently- the only reason I am posting today is because of a few comments and several emails from people that seem to enjoy reading my stories and meandering thoughts. They are asking if I am ok, alive, still going to keep the blog going.

I am, I am, and I will.

There is an old saying and a true one- that a person makes time for the things most important to them. When I started this blog, it was very important to me. I was going through a mini mid-life crisis. I had made a major career change, left an amazing job and a great group of staff and peers to strike out on my own. After a year of doing so and finding little success, this blog was a much needed outlet to take my mind off work (and the lack thereof).

When I think about my life, in light of that old saying, it’s a bit uncomfortable. Why have I not ventured out on a missions trip? Why don’t we play more family board games? Why do we not take more weekend family trips? Why don’t we go camping? Why don’t we seem to have time to do more things together?

A person makes time for the things most important to them. I seem to be able to get most all my work done. And there is the painful insight.

So, I am trying to make some time again….even if it’s just a few minutes…to jot down my thoughts here. Not for anyone really other than myself and my family, but if someone else gets any enjoyment or anything of value in the mix that’s good. I started out with this blog to create an electronic journal- something my kids, and possibly their kids, will be able to read through and learn from. This collection of a few hundred posts and about half a million words is far more than I have ever been able to read from my parents, grandparents, or anyone else in my family. How amazing is that? What would I give to be able to read the stories and thoughts from my precious grandmother Dorothy or her husband James? Or grandma Astrid? A goodly amount, that’s for sure.

Mean Activist People Scare Me

This world is getting meaner. People that spout “tolerance!” show anything but when people don’t agree with them.

In LA a few months ago, nice people heading out to get into their SUVs and head to work found their tires slashed and profance notes telling them they were killing the planet.

Today I saw a car that had a yellow ribbon showing support for our troops and someone had used a permenant black marker to scribble all over it and write on the car “murderers.” Then of course there are the absolutely insane people that want to stop abortion by bombing clinics and killing abortion providers. The world is teetering on its axle and about to spin out of control.

A few weeks ago our family pulled up to a restaurant, and as I got out of the car I noticed a hand-written note under the windshield wiper of the car next to us. I read it and was saddened. The car next to us had one simple, small bumper sticker- a W a few inches high and wide placed discretely on the back window.

The note spewed hate. The writer ripped the driver of the car up and down, and a KIND version of what he said went something like this:

“You are complete ass****. I don’t know how you people can live with yourselves. How can you support a moron, murderer and liar like George Bush! You make me so mad I could kill you and the world would be a better place without trash like you. I bet you don’t even have kids in Iraq. You send other people’s kids off to Iraq to get killed and its your fault. I hate you and hope you die a painful death and rot in hell.”

Good news, I tore the note up and the person that owned the car never got it. I am sure his/her meal was good, and when he came out to the car he didn’t have his evening ruined.

Bad news- there is no freedom of speech if you don’t agree with some people. I would never put any bumper stickers on my car that communicated my positions on issues. I learned that lesson along time ago. America has changed.

We Have No Idea

This morning I gleaned through the headlines on the Drudge Report and bounced around a few other news sites like ABC, Fox News, AP, Reuters and Breitbart. After a few minutes something I had read over faily quickly started to sink in. My subconscious sort of asked my heart, “wait- do you realize what you read a few minutes ago and passed right over just as quickly as the story about CBS “Kid Nation” controversy?”

It started to sink in, and I went back to the story: “Rocket Lands by Israeli Day Care Center.”

9 Kuds-3 rockets were fired into Israel from the Gaza strip this morning. A Islamic Jihad website said that the attack was "a present for the start of the new school year." One of the rockets had landed in the play yard of the pre-school (while in session), and 12 people, including some babies, suffered shock and a building was damaged.

How absolutely sick is that? How do the parents in these areas- Jews and Arabs alike- live like this? Last year our youngest girl finished her last year at Berry’s Chapel Pre-school. I cant imagine how I would feel if I got word that rockets had landed in the playground of her pre-school. Firstly, I would have to be restrained by police because I would find out who did it and make their life miserable… and likely shortened by some great amount. If there was a hint it would happen again and no one could stop it, I would do whatever it took to get the heck out of here to find somewhere people valued life.

I simply can not imagine such a life. A place where death can rain down from the sky at any moment.

Dominoes

It all started innocent enough. Using relationships from my former job at EMI I made a call requesting help from a nice and lovely lady that used to work for me. I asked her if she could send a message out to some retailers regarding a client of mine- a message that was also- in my opinion- in the interest of my former employer.

Turned out to be a bit of a mistake.

I got a call tonight from the head of the division, a nice man that used to work for me, that took me to task for the incident. Turns out it ticked several people off, and it appeared to some that I had taken advantage of my relationships there to slide something by without normal review and approval processes.

A new policy has been instituted because of me. Now that I think about it, that's not too unusual.

I feel horrible, had no ill intent, and have sent a couple apology notes around to those affected. Ive been out of corporate life a year and a half now, and forgot how political each word and breath can be in business life. I am again disabused of any feelings I might have that I made the wrong decision to leave it.






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Before And After: The Garage

9:00AM- This should be fun and interesting. At least to me.

I will attempt to motivate and amaze myself as I tackle, with the help of my lovely wife Michelle and four wonderful daughters K, L, A & R, the cleaning and organization of our garage.

Our builder went a bit crazy on the garage. To say we have good storage space is an understatement. The garage has 4 bays for cars, a door to the patio, 2 large storage areas, plus a safe room/space if we have a really bad storm/tornado. All in the space is about 1500 square feet. Immense.

The work today will be exhausting, but I hope very successful. I am writing this before we begin. We shall see how it goes and what I write at the end of the day.

Here are the ‘Before’ pictures:

7:50PM- It is done.

My entire married life Michelle has teased me and given me a hard time for the way I organize a space. I learned it from my mom- take everything OUT of the space, throw it all about somewhere away from the space, then clean the empty space thoroughly, and finally, start to place the stuff back IN the cleaned space in an orderly and organized way. Michelle has always thought this was insane and added time and effort to the job. We have argued it many, many times, and Michelle always dismisses me as crazy for doing it my way.

Until today.

As we prepared for the task ahead I of course told her how I wanted it to go down. We would all work together to empty the ENTIRE garage of everything that is on or near the floor, dump it all into the driveway, clean the garage and spray for bugs, install the new shelving units I bought this morning, and then move everything back in. While doing the last part, separate out stuff for the dump and Goodwill.

She agreed and thought it was a good idea. Why? Was it the years of arguments, influence and her love for me and belief that I really do know best? Nope. It was a show called Mission: Organization on HGTV she recently watched. Seemed the organizational expert on the show said the best way to organize a space is….exactly the way I do it. But because some lady on TV said it, Michelle believes it now. So much for my influence.

Here are the after pictures:

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Crazy Lady Flips Out

Tonight one of my four daughters had a softball game. It was a doozy.

A fight almost broke out. Not between the girls. No chance of that. They’re all just there to have fun. It was a couple parents on the other team that were the problem.

We were playing our rivals Hillsboro. Actually, in our area there is a very real pecking order based on how far south each team is from the hoity-toity Brentwood area. The Brentwood teams look at Grassland as folks from the sticks. Grassland, a couple miles south of Brentwood look down their noses at the Franklin teams. Franklin gets to kick around Bethesda and Hillsboro, while the folks from Bethesda and Hillsboro, and all the northern areas mentioned previously sneer at Spring Hill, Farivew..and God help them… College Grove. It’s quite funny actually.

So, tonight it was Franklin versus Hillsboro. The tension was heavy as parents from both sides prepared to see their 7 & 8 year old daughters battle to the death.

All was going well until one of the parents on the other team sort of flipped out. She didn’t like a call, and I guess the moonshine was kicking in, and she started yelling at the umpire. John the ump, a great guy, and very fair, walked over to the lady and said “Excuse me, are you the coach?” The lady didn’t answer. John repeated the question again, slower and very loud for all to hear. The lady responded “No.” And John said “I didn’t think so. If you’re not the coach, then were done here.” And walked away. The lady called out “Are you the umpire?”

John jumped back at her and told her one more crack out of her and she could go to her car. The lady flipped out and started yelling. I told all our girls to get off the field and head to the dugout. I’ve seen too many news stories of adults getting into fights at kids games. I didn’t want these little girls to see parents make idiots of themselves- or worse- get hurt.

Crazy Man got up and started defending Crazy Lady, a bit more yelling ensued, and then things finally settled down. We continued the game..and won.

After the game a couple parents came from the Hillsboro team over to us and apologized for Crazy Lady and assured us that they are not all like that. We thanked them for coming over and told them other than that incident we enjoyed playing with them.

John the umpire hung out with our team after the game and half-jokingly asked if I would walk him to his car.






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Confession

Most people that know me relatively well- even those that know me very well- probably wouldn’t know that I have a serious problem with revenge. Not the dime store kind. The kind that takes offense easily, hold grudges, looks to get back at everybody all the time. I don’t do that at all. In fact, my wife thinks I look too often for the possibility that those that wrong us or others didn’t really mean it or understand the impact of their actions or words.

What I do have a problem with is taking revenge on those who wrong others (especially kids) and leave no doubt they know exactly what they are doing. When people are downright mean and nasty. I know the bible is clear about revenge- it's not mine to take. It robs God of his place. It basically is telling God that I know better than him and will right the universe and make sure good triumphs over evil.

I can't help myself sometimes. Two examples…

A couple years ago we were on vacation in California. Michelle, K, L, A and I (our youngest R was too little and stayed home with my parents). We were in line at some attraction or other in downtown LA and Michelle and I witnessed a boy of about 8 years old absolutely torturing his younger brother (probably 4 or so). He was hitting, kicking, punching and pinching him and there was nothing funny or lighthearted about it. He was being cruel and mean. The 4 year old was defenseless and every time he cried out or whimpered his parents would turn around and either scold or smack him while the 8 year old put on an act of innocence. After 20 minutes in line I couldn’t take it anymore. As they passed by us in the weaving velvet roped line I ‘accidentally’ planted an elbow into the forehead of the 8 year old. He winced with pain and looked at me. I gave him my absolute meanest ‘I’m gonna kill you boy’ look and wiggled my finger at him while quietly whispering ‘stop bothering your brother.’ That ended it.

One gorgeous evening in Disney World I was quickly walking from one side of the park to the other. My family was in line at Splash Mountain and I had been on the other side of the park meeting for a few minutes with some people from work (we were there for Night of Joy and several of our artists were performing in the park). As I made my way to the edge of Frontierland, I noticed a pack of teenagers walking in front of me goofing off and laughing hard. It was dark and hard to see what they were doing, but after a minute or two I noticed one in the group was shielding himself behind a couple of his friends and winging pennies at people walking towards them. When I say winging, I mean FULL-ON high speed throwing. You know how you hold a coin by its edges and whip it through the air? That’s what he was doing- hitting people in the chest as hard as he could. When he would hit someone, he would duck down behind his friends as they all kept walking. The victim would be in pain, confused, look around and not see anything suspicious. Sometimes they would stand there for a few seconds looking around trying to figure out what and who hit them. The teenagers would burst out laughing and get ready for the next victim. I observed them do this 3 times when an idea came to me. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a quarter (a good 2-3x the size and mass of their puny pennies) and got closer to the group. As they continued to walk and the perp sized up his next victim, he cocked his arm back for the shot. I let loose with a 50MPH speed ball right at the back of his head. WHOMP. It struck true. King David himself would have been impressed. The teenage boy let out a whelp and dropped to his knees. His friends turned around and asked what happened. The boy said “I don’t know! Something hit me in the head! Who did it?” As I walked past him, I looked down at the nearly crying boy (he looked to be 16 or 17) and said “I did,” smiled at him and kept walking.






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Trip To Los Angeles Part 1- Shut Down

Here’s a mildly interesting occurrence from my trip to LA on Monday/Tuesday. In line (lane B at Southwest) for my flight back from LA to Nashville I had the pleasure of listening to some wacky lady behind me drone on for an hour talking on her cell phone. It was one of those conversations you can’t help but hear- mainly because the person talking right behind you is talking so loud they might as well be in your head. If I could have got a gun through security I think I might have used it. If not on me, at least on her cell phone.

She talked about angel food cake, her car, what she was making for Easter dinner, her lawn, ants, roaches, the gum she just bought that lost its flavor within a few minutes, her sore leg, the weather, the shirt she bought while in LA, American Idol, and how her husband’s gums were bothering him.

After she finished her call, she droned on by picking on a couple in lane A next to her. Turns out they were moving from Orange County to Franklin TN with their two small children (near where I live in Leipers Fork), and were on their first fact finding trip to look at the area, homes, schools- the whole thing. The husband mentioned he had been to Franklin a couple times on business.

Crazy talking lady proceeded to give them 20 minutes of advice about where to live in the area, the best schools, things to do, places to eat, and more. All of it…I mean EVERY SINGLE BIT OF THE ADVICE she was giving was 100% wrong. I don’t know what rock this lady lives under in Franklin, but it must be big and mossy enough to totally shielded her from every thing good and holy. I bit my tongue for the first 10 minutes. At the 20 minute mark my head started to pop off.

“Excuse me…I heard you were moving to Franklin. I live in Franklin and am thrilled your family is moving there. It’s a great town and I can tell you about a few places online you can learn about everything Williamson County has to offer” I butted in and said.

Well…I was shut down. The husband said “Yes- thank you. I know all about Franklin. I’ve been there. Thanks again. Honey- I think we can get out of this line and go to the pre-board section since we have kids.” And they exited stage left.

I can only imagine what this man and his wife thought. “I think we’re making a big mistake. These Franklin people are kooks.”






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Victory And Defeat. And Victory. Then Defeat. Now Victory...

This has been a week of oscillating victories and defeats. Amazingly almost completely even score for each. Monday morning was a victory. Feel great. Top of the world. Monday afternoon defeat. Frustrated.

Tuesday morning started with a failure, only to be reversed with a huge score on a project. Feeling dizzy. Wednesday morning- bad news on a report. Frustrated and wanting to quit. Wednesday night- awesome late night meeting and progress with a clients project idea. Brilliant! Leave the meeting- dead battery and 2 hours before I’m in bed while my car is lonely without me in a parking lot 20 miles away. Depressed, tired and hungry. Jack in the box tacos at 11:30PM while my wife drives me home in the van.

Thursday morning got sweaty and grease stained buying and installing a new battery and battery connecters on my car. I show up for my lunch meeting with greasy jeans and hair all sweaty and crazy. No fun at all. Thursday afternoon- awesome progress on another project and a bright light is at the end of that tunnel.

Friday dawns with an email carrying some bad news. Another weekend with a ton of work to get things buttoned down. Friday afternoon was a touchdown. A sought after meeting finally happened and the gates opened up on a project for another client. Major progress. Feeling great.

I’m dizzy. I really don’t know what to think of this week. Part of me longs for the weeks with a clear message, one or the other- Win column! You did awesome! Things happened and stuff got done, the ball was moved down the field and you did a great job. Or- loser! Mistakes, project stiffed, mark it off, pick yourself up, take the grass out of your mouth and start fresh next week.

At least you finish the week with a focus. An understanding. You nailed it or you blew it. This past week I have no idea what to think.

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The Weak Link

House, car, television and now a kite. These are things I wanted to buy, and tried to buy, but the experience was ruined by the negative power of a single person.

So much goes into the production and sales of things. Teams of product developers get the ok from teams of financiers and visionaries. They start to make or build stuff. They hand those things off to marketers that strive to identify the proper demographic targets and how they can be reached. They then craft the marketing message and decide how, when and to whom that message is delivered. The sales teams take the product and message to retailers, dealers and distributors. Manufacturing and operations people then take over and make sure the product is available at the right places and the right times to meet anticipated demand. Then some person receives the product, unpacks it, sets it on the shelf and waits for the sales.

All the work and passion that has been put into a product is resting on the last person in the chain- the last link. This person has an amazing power to make or break a deal simply by the nature of their attitude and demeanor as well as product knowledge. This is the retail clerk.

Yesterday I was dead-set on buying a new kite. The whole family trekked with me into a kite store right on the beach in Okaloosa Island in Florida. The cash in my pocket was screaming to be spent and our plan was to have a delicious breakfast at The Breakfast Club restaurant at Okaloosa’s Boardwalk, and then walk a short distance to the Kitty Hawk kite store.

It was a disappointing morning. Turns out The Breakfast Club closed after hurricane Ivan, never to open again. We got back into the car and went to IHOP instead. After eating we came back to the Boardwalk and went into the kite store. I was overwhelmed with the selection.

I had no idea what I was doing. The last time I bought a kite in a place other than a mass merchant retailer that had 2 to choose from was…never. I wandered around confused by all the different types of kites and knew I needed help. The one employee on duty was wearing a name tag that indicated she was the Assistant Manager.

Apparently the retail management training she had undergone practiced a whole new non-conformist curriculum. They must have taught retail managers how to break the mold and stand out from the crowd. She looked angry and bitter, avoided all eye contact, and was too preoccupied unpacking boxes to help me spend my money and fulfill the hopes and dreams of visionary kite creators waiting each week to see how many of their creations were sold around the country.

I wanted to see how long it would take for her to ask me if I needed help. I gave up after 20 minutes or so. I approached her with a kite I thought would work for me and asked where I could find extra string. I brought it up to the fort she had been guarding non-stop since I came in (also known as the sales counter) and set it down in front of her. I asked her what type of string was included and where I could find another 500-1000 feet of it to add to this purchase. Here is our dialogue best I can recall:

AsstMgr: “You want to buy THIS kite?”

Me: “Umm..yes?”

AsstMgr: “Do you know how to use one of these kites?”

Me: “I think so”

AsstMgr: “Well I don’t think you do, otherwise you wouldn’t be asking for more line. This is a stunt kite. It uses a set length dual-line and the manufacturer puts the right amount of line in the package.”

Me: Thinking, not said out loud- HALLELUJAH! Information from on high! I’m finally getting somewhere on my journey to buy a kite today even though right now I feel like an imbecile that doesn’t even know how to BUY a kite much less fly one.

Me: Waiting for her to say something else. Nothing coming. Still nothing coming. I give up- “ok, then could you help me find a…umm…normal kite?”

AsstMgr: “Well what exactly are you looking for?”

Me: Trying to lead her away from the fort and towards the kites, her not moving “I guess a normal kite. You know, a regular one you fly. I’m not sure how else to describe what I’m looking for. Could you help me?”

AsstMgr: Didn’t say anything, but she finally put down her clipboard and walked out from behind the counter. I was amazed to see she had movable legs.

She walked with me to where the kites were- thousands of them. She asked me which one I wanted. I almost yelled at her “that’s exactly what I need you to help me with!” I pointed out one hanging from the ceiling I thought looked cool. “That one is out of stock” she said. I pointed out another one that would probably be my next pick. “I sold the last one of those last week.”

I then asked her if I could buy the display model of one of the two kites I liked. She said no- they don’t sell the displays. She seemed very interested in getting this conversation over with and back to her clipboard. She had work to do.

I left without buying a kite. Our plans to go to the beach later that day to fly our new kite were dashed on the pounding surf of Okaloosa Island Beach. I could almost hear the silent screams of a million designers, investors, manufacturers, distributors, retail store owners and their families that need to pay for braces and college deprived of yet another few dollars of income.






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The Frog And The Fly

Here's a quick story I heard long ago. I was reminded of it while preparing the 5th edition of The Carnival of Storytellers due out tomorrow.

The core of the story is recalled, but the exact words, details and flow of it is mine. I looked for some sort of original online but couldn’t find it.

There once was a fly who through no fault of his own lost his wings. He was flying around minding his own business when he realized it was starting to get dark. He set off for home, across the big river, when suddenly out of nowhere a bird swooped down to gobble him up. The beak of the bird just missed the poor fly's head, and latched onto both his wings. With a loud chomp the wigs were consumed, and the fly, separated from his precious wings, fell to earth with barely a sound.

He hid for a time until he was certain the bird was gone, and climbed atop a blade of grass to see which way was home. He saw the river and set out on all six feet to return to his family. When he reached the river he realized there was no way to cross. He had never had to think twice before about crossing the river. It was as simple as a brief flight on his trusty wings. Now, without wings, and with no bridges or dry rocks to travel he was overcome with sadness. He feared he would never see his family again and began to weep loudly.

Nearby a huge green frog watched with interest. He heard the fly's lament about the lost wings and the family never to be seen again. He was genuinely moved, and swam towards the fly to see if he could help.

"My dear fly, I heard your sad story and wish to help in any way I can" said the frog.

The fly was startled and almost fell into the river as he stumbled back in fear. "Stay away frog! I know your kind- I have heard tales about lost friends and relatives to the likes of you. You eat flies- wings and all. You will not help me, you only want to eat me!"

"You have hurt my feelings greatly" said the frog. I only wish to help. Your story has moved me, and while there is no doubt I have eaten a fly or two in my years, I can promise you I will not harm you. I love my family too, and wish only to help you reunite with yours. Climb upon my tummy and I will swim you to the other side of the river so you may continue your journey."

The fly wanted to believe him. Needed to believe him. It seemed the only way to get home. He thought long and hard, and reasoned that if the frog really wanted to eat him he probably would have made a move by now. He talked himself into believing the frog and so agreed, asking for, and receiving, one more promise that there would be no fly eating.

The fly climbed aboard the frog, and the frog set out to fulfill his promise sincerely meaning no harm to the fly.

When the frog reached the half-way point across the river, he realized he was very hungry. He reached out his tounge, and snapped up the fly in a split-second. With one crunchy bite the fly was no more.

The bird that had attacked the fly had watched the whole thing. He was fascinated by the fly's determination to reach his family and had decided to spare the fly. He kept his distance and had watched the fly navigate hills, rocks, grass and all manner of fly eating insects on his way to the river. He watched and listened to the fly and frog discuss the agreement for safe passage, and also watched the frog eat the fly.

The bird flew down towards the frog and introduced himself. He explained to the frog that he had watched and heard all that transpired, and was shocked to see the frog break his promise and eat the poor heartbroken fly. "Why would you do such a thing?" asked the bird.

"You silly bird" said the frog, "I am a frog. And frog's eat flies."

This story suggests that no one can change for the better, can escape the base and evil desires of the heart or change into a better person without a greater power beyond themselves.






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In The Mood For A Rant

I’m a bit punchy today. In a better mood than yesterday, but ready to bite if I’m poked too hard. A few things are poking me right now. Here I go:

1. Predators. There are too many stories of wolves that are allowed to prowl unwatched, seeking to devour our kids. If I hear one more story of a child beaten, abused, abducted, violated or broken by some sicko I think I will pop a gasket. That will likely happen, unfortunately, tomorrow or the next day. We have allowed our society to excuse and protect these animals. We need to cut them off. I mean cut them off from society. I guess, “cutting them off” could be good to. We protect free speech in the form of deviant media and behavior, we raise our kids in a world saturated with sex and relative values, and we wonder why there is a growing population of evil people wandering around in search of those they may consume. And when they do? We give them 90 days in jail and let them out again. SICK OF IT. In Dante’s Inferno, the deepest level of Hell is reserved for traitors- those that betray friends. I am hopeful there is one level beyond, undiscovered during Dante’s subconscious journey into Hades, that will hold those that have hurt a child.

2. Politicians. I can’t stand to hear the screech and whine of our politician’s voices any longer. There is NOTHING a conservative can do without raising a chorus of liberal voices screaming foul. And there is NOTHING a liberal can do…period. The whole lot is a waste. Do me a favor politicians- build roads and bridges, train our military to be the best in the world and use them ALL OUT against those that would do us harm, make sure the 911 system works, fund and staff police and fire stations, and serve one term and then get a real job.

3. Pockets. These drive me nuts because its where people tuck away hidden agenda’s, hidden grudges, monologues about people that leave the room, and all sorts of cowardice. Bring it out. Put it on the table. Be bold. Be honest. Lay it out for all to see, and be prepared to eat your words or thoughts if proven wrong.

4. Institutional Idiocy. Large companies that are so behemoth that each department or division is driven by what is best for “their” people, not what is best for the greater mission and purpose. There are times to lie on a grenade to make sure your army wins.

5. Clutter. My desk and office are getting pretty bad. I guess on this one I could for sure do something about the problem fairly quickly. Nevermind.

6. Telephones. My office phone and cell phone would be thrown in the fire-pit in my backyard if it wouldn’t paralyze some people that don’t know how to use E-mail, IMs or face-to-face visits. The worst is when people call and I don’t pick up because I’m in the middle of something..and then they call again in 2 minutes. And then again. And again. LEAVE A MESSAGE.

7. Humidity.

8. Rosie O’Donnell. Nuf said.

9. Taxes. On April 15th I have to pay so much money it would make your head spin. I guess with the war and Pelosi’s new private jet we’ve got quite a bill to pay.

10. Clamshell packaging. I bought a new set of headphones to make Skype phone calls and I almost lost my left index finger to a sharp plastic edge. They were created to keep losers from easily opening the package and stuffing valuable down their pants along with the steaks and CDs already in there. One more way the silt at the bottom of the barrel makes our lives more difficult.

Well. I feel much better thank you. Have a nice day! :)






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I Fought The Law And The Law Won

I have never been to jail, officially, though I have had some very close calls. I wasn’t what you would call a juvenile delinquent; I just had a knack for running afoul of the law with no ill intent. I thought it would be fun to share a few of my more interesting run-in’s with the man with the badge:

Age 5
I was fascinated by all things mechanical, and also the labor and laborers involved in work. Fire engines, garbage trucks, garbage men, mechanics, and gas station attendants. I especially liked those guys in the snappy hats with a rag in their pocket, filling up the car and cleaning the windshield. I decided to imitate them, filled up a large jug with water, went outside and proceeded to pour the water into the gas tank of a neighbors car. Not good. The neighbor saw me, ran outside and grabbed the jug. He yelled at me and asked me where I lived. I knew instantly I was in big trouble, and figured I could avoid a harsh penalty and keep my parents from finding out by lying. I told him I didn’t live here and was visiting my friend. He asked me where my friend lived, and I pointed to my own house. Oops. He walked me to my house knocked on the door, and hell was unleashed.

Age 10
My friends and I loved firecrackers. Don’t all boys? Problem was they were illegal where we lived- not only in the state of Maryland, but we were also on a military base- where they are always illegal everywhere. Double illegal. We had accessed the contraband from a boy that recently moved into the area from California (where everything is either legal or ignored) and bought the precious materials with pockets full of quarters. We devised a cool, non lethal bomb- we used Elmer’s glue to attach a ring of firecrackers around a large raw egg, wrapping the fuses together and up to the top, and gluing a small paper stand on the bottom of the egg. We called it the Scrambled Egg Bomb. Theoretically, it would explode and spew quickly half-cooked egg in all directions. We thought it would be fun to place these on peoples porches, light it up, knock on the door, and plaster the place with egg (every house there had storm doors with screens and people didn’t open the door so we thought there would be no danger to people. 10 year old thinking). The very first house we tried it at we were busted. The plan was Clint would stay on his 10 speed bike and hold up mine and Robby’s so we were ready to blow. Robby lit the fuse, I watched intently, and then looked up to do the knocking. As I extended my hand I noticed there was a very large US Marine with his arms crossed looking down at us through the screen. RUN! Robby and I made a mad dash for our bikes, the Marine made a mad dash for us, and we barely escaped. Or rather, Clint and I barely escaped. Robby had left his bike in first gear. He was grabbed from behind and taken down. Clint and I kept going. We didn’t stop until we were far away, then stopped, congratulated ourselves on our escape, and then went back to turn ourselves in. We couldn’t leave Robby to face death on his own. By the time we got back the MPs (Military Police) were already there. They were men of honor, and appreciated so much that Clint and I came back to turn ourselves in they let us all go with a warning (and confiscated our explosives, eggs and matches).

Age 11
I thought it would be really cool to attach some fishing wire from my second floor window, down to an abandoned building across a rarely used access road for the sole purpose of sending my GI Joe’s sliding down the wire for Special Forces missions. It was there for days, undisturbed, until a military police officer knocked on our front door. My mom answered it, and then called me to join her. He was a very nice man, pleasant smile, and had been driving along that rarely used access road I mentioned. I knew it without asking since he had a nice perfectly straight cut across his forehead, courtesy of my zip line and his open air jeep.

Age 12
I walked home from school with my best-friends Clint and Robby, and got to my front door only to realize I had forgotten my house key that morning. Dad was at work, mom at work (out shopping) and my sister was at a friends. Clint and I thought it would be a good idea to borrow his dad’s ladder, and have me climb up to the second floor in the back and climb through my window that was almost always left unlocked. As I climbed up, a man passing by walking his dog looked up at me and jokingly said “pulling a second floor job, huh?” I had no idea what that meant, said “Um- yea” and climbed in my window. 15 minutes later two police officers knocked on the front door.

Age 13
It was Christmas day, 1979, and it was warm. Very warm. That morning I had received a very cool gift- a small rubber raft, 2-seater, and Clint and I headed out in the afternoon to give it a test run. We rode our bikes to Burba Lake, blew up the raft, and christened it with our canteens of water. Off we went, an oar each, and explored the lake. Shortly after reaching the small island in the middle, and watching Clint debark to explore the magical place on foot, I left shore thinking it would be funny to leave him stranded for a bit. As I turned the boat around I noticed two police cars with lights on, and two MPs staring at me. One- the officer- with a scowl on his face, arms crossed, the other- the grunt- waving me in. I reached the shore (Clint still on the island, now crouching down hiding behind some rocks) and the senior officer proceeded to rip me up and down for my illegal act. He asked me if I was stupid. He asked me if I was smart enough to read. He asked my why I couldn’t follow orders. He pointed out the signs that clearly stated NO SWIMMING and NO BOATING. I told him, sir, that the sign didn’t say NO BOATING. He was infuriated, insisting they did, and I kindly insisted they didn’t. He marched a hundred yards or so, placed himself in front of one of the signs, read it, and marched back with an awful look on his face. He informed me that while the sign may not actually say NO BOATING, there was most certainly NO BOATING allowed. He ordered me to deflate my raft and leave immediately. I told him I had a friend on the island I needed to pick up since there was NO SWIMMING. That made him very happy- to have to stand there and wait while I rowed back out to the island and picked Clint up. The signs at Burba Lake now include NO BOATING.

Age 16
Gaithersburg High School had an annual trip to the seashore for its best biology students. I was one, and so excitedly packed the morning of the trip, and headed out with 30 or so class mates for the overnight camping trip. The focus was on marine biology, and we spent the two days digging up creatures from the sand, taking a short boat trip on a research vessel, and having tons of fun with our friends. We had some free time so a group of us headed out to explore the abandoned forts and bunkers from WWII. The US had built a string of these along the Atlantic coast to defend against German U-Boats. We found one that looked promising- there were metal bars keeping out intruders, but two of the guys with us were so skinny they could slip through. They had a flashlight, and yelled back to us the play-by-play of what they saw as they explored. We had hit GOLD. The explorers called back that they had found old uniforms, books, pens and all sorts of military-type stuff. They brought out armloads, and we all divvied them up. When we got back to camp the police were waiting for us. Turns out it was a museum designed to look exactly like a bunker in 1942. The guys had tripped an alarm, and the police saw us walking back to camp and met us there.

Age 18
I purchased a brand new motorcycle and thought I was the coolest. I rode it everywhere- in all weather. Sun, rain, even snow. Yes. One winter night riding home from work I was pulled over for driving with an expired registration. Very expired. So expired that the policeman said he needed to impound the bike. He told me to wait there as he needed to leave, and another police officer along with a tow truck would be there shortly. I moved a bit away from the road, and sat down with my back to a building to escape the wind. It was so cold I tucked my arms inside my jacket to wait. I put my head back against the wall and closed my eyes to rest and wait for whatever was next. A few minutes later I head a voice, shaky, scared sounding, and very loud- “Take your hands out of your jacket- VERY…SLOWLY.” I sat up and saw a young police officer, weapon drawn, pointing right at me with a very concerned look on his face. Great. I’m gonna die for not renewing my registration.

Well that’s it- after that last one I was pretty much scared straight.






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Live Television

Last night flipping through the channels on live TV (Tivo has yet again mistakenly put our account on hold believing we have an invalid credit card on file. 3rd time. Calling again today to get them straight), I stumbled on a speech from Ronald Reagan given more than 40 years ago. A timely message from one of our greatest presidents.

I know there are those that think he was a fool and a disaster of a president, but I humbly submit this: under his watch, and in most things at his prompting, communism in Europe fell freeing millions of souls, our economy rebounded and soared, our national pride was restored, and our military once again became the best in the world. For those that don’t think he was a great man, read his private letters to his wife, friends and contemporaries. Here was a man that loved his God, his country, his wife, his friends and his enemies, and the American people. Isn’t it interesting that just recently Poland has decided to erect a statue of Ronald Reagan in the main square of their capital? That he is loved and revered in so many foreign countries as well as to millions of his own countrymen?

Once again I’ve gone political on a non-political blog, but watching the speech last night fired me up and made me realize how much we need a passionate and plain spoken man (or woman) to lead our country during the decade ahead.

If you are not into politics and don't find this stuff as interesting as I do, stop now. See ya tomorrow.

Ronald Reagan Oct 1964

Those who would trade our freedom for the soup kitchen of the welfare state have told us that they have a utopian solution of peace without victory. They call their policy "accommodation." And they say if we only avoid any direct confrontation with the enemy, he will forget his evil ways and learn to love us. All who oppose them are indicted as warmongers. They say we offer simple answers to complex problems. Well, perhaps there is a simple answer--not an easy answer--but simple.

If you and I have the courage to tell our elected officials that we want our national policy based upon what we know in our hearts is morally right. We cannot buy our security, our freedom from the threat of the bomb by committing an immorality so great as saying to a billion now in slavery behind the Iron Curtain, "Give up your dreams of freedom because to save our own skin, we are willing to make a deal with your slave masters." Alexander Hamilton said, "A nation which can prefer disgrace to danger is prepared for a master, and deserves one." Let's set the record straight. There is no argument over the choice between peace and war, but there is only one guaranteed way you can have peace--and you can have it in the next second--surrender.

Admittedly there is a risk in any course we follow other than this, but every lesson in history tells us that the greater risk lies in appeasement, and this is the specter our well-meaning liberal friends refuse to face--that their policy of accommodation is appeasement, and it gives no choice between peace and war, only between fight and surrender. If we continue to accommodate, continue to back and retreat, eventually we have to face the final demand--the ultimatum. And what then? When Nikita Khrushchev has told his people he knows what our answer will be? He has told them that we are retreating under the pressure of the Cold War, and someday when the time comes to deliver the ultimatum, our surrender will be voluntary because by that time we will have weakened from within spiritually, morally, and economically. He believes this because from our side he has heard voices pleading for "peace at any price" or "better Red than dead," or as one commentator put it, he would rather "live on his knees than die on his feet." And therein lies the road to war, because those voices don't speak for the rest of us. You and I know and do not believe that life is so dear and peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery. If nothing in life is worth dying for, when did this begin--just in the face of this enemy? Or should Moses have told the children of Israel to live in slavery under the pharaohs? Should Christ have refused the cross? Should the patriots at Concord Bridge have thrown down their guns and refused to fire the shot heard 'round the world? The martyrs of history were not fools, and our honored dead who gave their lives to stop the advance of the Nazis didn't die in vain. Where, then, is the road to peace? Well, it's a simple answer after all.

You and I have the courage to say to our enemies, "There is a price we will not pay." There is a point beyond which they must not advance. This is the meaning in the phrase of Barry Goldwater's "peace through strength." Winston Churchill said that "the destiny of man is not measured by material computation. When great forces are on the move in the world, we learn we are spirits--not animals." And he said, "There is something going on in time and space, and beyond time and space, which, whether we like it or not, spells duty."

You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on Earth, or we will sentence them to take the last step into a thousand years of darkness.






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Unanswered Questions

Our daughter L, the former middle-child until we had number 4, has a project due later this month for school. She has to give an oral report on someone that made a contribution that changed the world.

The project is fairly straight-forward, but still overwhelming to an 11 year old. Decide on your person and their contribution, get it approved by the teacher (the letter home to parents urged them to make sure their children did not pick football stars or American Idol winners), come up with 3-4 different sources (letter said they cant all be from the internet), and address 4 core questions.

The questions are: Who is the person (include detailed biographical information), what was their contribution, how did the it come to be and come to be known, and how did it change the world.

L chose Anne Frank. She read her diary/book, researched her on the internet, and we rented the movie “Anne Frank: The Whole Story”. We decided to watch it as a family for movie night, and settled in to experience the 3 hour saga.

It was interesting to see the entire family engaged- even our 5 and 8 year old girls. The film is very well done, and the girl that portrays Anne Frank, Hannah Taylor-Gordon, did a wonderful job. L completely identified with her- she bears more than a slight resemblance to Hannah as well as Anne Frank (I guess that makes sense), is about the same age, and enjoys reading, art and stories. She was literally pulled into the film, and I observed her living it.

Because of the length of the film, we had to end it with about an hour to go, right after the Frank family was discovered and arrested. The tension was intense, and L was upset and heart-broken. She was actually weeping and Michelle and I had to comfort her for some time when we tucked her in. She was scared, angry, confused. How could this be happening? Why would anyone want to hurt Anne and her family? She could not grasp the evil that was not yet seen. She could feel it though. Sense it- cold, deep and approaching. She knew it was there. She knew the ending of the story, and that added to the fear.

The next night we finished the movie. L was not as emotional as the night before. There was a rhythm to the final hour that could be understood- the evil was known now, the end is near, the things that L could identify with (beauty, art, friends, family, security) were long gone. All that was left was death, destruction, and then the victory of Anne’s contribution to the world being discovered. And then life once again.

Bedtime was filled with questions and conversation. Why would Adolph Hitler do what he did? Why did the soldiers follow his orders? Why did that lady call the police about Anne Frank’s hiding place? Why didn’t the German people do anything to stop it? Why didn’t the United States do something faster to help all those people? Why do some people hate Jews? Why would God let something like that happen? Are there any more people like Hitler or the Nazis that are alive now?






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Experimenting With Forms Of Government

Each Sunday after church, and one or two other times during the week, our family goes out to eat. I love food, as can be deduced by my big, umm, boned frame, and really enjoy dining out. Michelle and I remind our girls that this is a real treat- when we grew up, going out to dinner was a big event not often afforded, and it was one of the few times we could drink Coca Cola.

Remember what the world was like before free refills? As a kid, if I downed my coke too fast I was forced to drink water while my slow-sipping evil sister smiled at me with a straw between her lips still sipping her coke. Maybe that was just me.

Back to the real story. The only negative to this “family treat” is going through the routine of getting as many of our clan of six to agree on a place to eat as possible.

A few years ago Michelle and I became weary of trying to remember all the different places we could go, so, being the digilicious instant-info at your fingertips freak I am, I loaded almost every bistro, eatery, diner and casual dining outlet in a 25 mile radius into my Blackberry- including name, address, phone number and website.

So it became easier, for awhile, to rattle off the list to get feedback and input from the gang. We still had problems deciding though. I guess reading through a long list of names numbed the minds of our kids and they gave up after places starting with the letter E.

We then started experimenting with various forms of government structure to help us:

Anarchy: The absence of government
We argue and moan about where each of us wanto go in a slowly rising cacophony until Michelle or I got sick of it and we drive home to eat peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.

Aristocracy: Government by the nobility
Sometimes we give into our little princess R, the ‘baby’ of the family.

Autarchy: Government by an absolute ruler
Other times I am bound and determined to eat Thai and I tell the lot of them they can just starve and sit there and watch me eat Green Curry Chicken.

Bureaucracy: Government by civil servants and process/policy focused
On a couple of occasions we came up with complicated formulas and processes for making the decision (Let’s go through the alphabet. Let’s rotate among our favorites. Let’s rotate decision makers…). It was too hard to remember how we were deciding each week, and we gave up.

Confederacy: A union of sovereign states
For a few weeks K & L joined forces to bring a “strength through unity” approach to the process and tried to sway the other family members to their thinking, sometimes with the threat of force brought to bear on their two younger sisters.

Democracy: Government by the people
I reasoned that it made absolute sense to go about it in a democratic fashion- I could kill two birds with one stone. Pick a restaurant AND teach our kids about democracy. It only lasted a couple of weeks. How can democracy work when you have 6 people voting on 200 places to eat? Nine times out of ten we couldn’t even get a simple plurality of two.

Matriarchy: Government by women or mothers
On a few occasions, Michelle will speak up authoritatively and make it clear we would not be going here or there, and lay out a couple of choices that she would be amenable to if the group chose them.

Monarchy: Government by one (usually by hereditary rule)
When Michelle and I are particularly not looking forward to the battle ahead, we kibitz among ourselves, King and Queen, and let the subjects know where we WILL be eating today.

Ochlocracy: Government by mobs
Sometimes the King and Queen’s plans are laid to waste when the masses rise up in protest: “No! We don’t want to eat there again!”

Patriarchy: Government by men or fathers
This one is my favorite. “We shall be eating Thai today. I hope you enjoy it. If you don’t, it will be a long and hungry day for you. So I have spoken, So shall it be done.”

Technocracy: Government by technical experts
Once in a while I pull out the old “I know best” card. I let the family know about a new place I read or heard about, inform them why this new Thai restaurant will be so cool and unique, and why we should go there.

Theocracy: Government by a deity through clergy or by religious law
“Dear Lord, please tell us where we should eat today so that we don’t have to go through the process of figuring it out on our own.”

I am looking forward to new advances in technology that will allow us to try what is sure to be the ultimate solution for figuring out where six opinionated, smart and vocal family members can all go together and eat in peace and tranquility: Robocracy: Government by robots or other artificial intelligence.






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Follow The Leader

Yesterday I did something I RARELY ever do. Something I despise. I would rather have hot irons poked in my eyes. I went to the mall.

It was a special occasion of course. What else would bring me there? Three of our girls pulled awesome grades in their ½ year reports. Our youngest, R, didn’t qualify as pre-schools have not yet started handing out grades. A is in second grade, and while good performance in that grade is wonderful there is something not quite exciting about getting an S (satisfactory progress) versus an NI (needs improvement). Somewhere around fourth grade the As, Bs, Cs, Ds and Es start to kick in.

K & L nailed wonderful grades yet again. We are very proud of them. K pulled an A in algebra (the final I helped her study for and wrote about in Write This Expression In Point Slope Form put her over the top)- that was the one subject that threatened the fait accompli.

The reward for the girls (including R- we couldn’t just leave her out in the cold just because she’s in pre-school) was a shopping spree at the mall. And so the fun began.

I brought my trusty Blackberry and so was able to occupy myself checking e-mail (honestly, 95% of the time was spent playing Texas Hold’em and Chess), and spent most of my time standing in front of each store, on the couches our mall has mercilessly installed for men, or hanging both arms on top of a garment rack while wondering if a pair of Jacks would win the pot.

While waiting in front of yet another store, I witnessed a three year old girl completely directing and orchestrating the life of her family. She decided she wanted to press the elevator button. Her dad allowed her, and mom and two other kids waited patiently. She then decided she wanted to continue pushing the button, non-stop, until the second-coming.

By the time the people on the second floor had loaded into the elevator and were ready for the adventurous journey to a lower level of hell, their departure was delayed by this sweet little three year old that was trying to save their eternal souls and keep them from their decent. Doors closing, button pushed again, doors open, repeat. (By the way, after thinking about this a few minutes, I think the parallels between a mall and hell are amazingly numerous. Perhaps I will delve into that another day).

The dad was trying to gently direct the little one away from the elevator and back to the circular path to nowhere everyone else on the second floor was mindlessly walking. She would have none of it. She had mastered the squinch-down, drop, twist and roll maneuver that popped her out on the backside of dad and made a bee-line for the elevator button yet again as the doors were closing. Mom and the other kids just sat there watching, most likely accustomed to delays caused by this wonderful little girl.

This continued for a couple minutes, and as dad tried to get a bit more forceful, the girl got more emotional and started crying, screaming and throwing a tizzy-fit. As it continued, and as I watched a growing crowd of onlookers lose patience, it took all that was in me to hold me back. With every ounce of my being I wanted to walk up the man and say “For the sake of all that is good, man, get control of your three year old, pick her up and administer whatever discipline is necessary to get control of your families life back into their own hands. If you don’t, I will.”

Of course I said nothing. I just observed and was amazed. What finally got the girl to give up on the elevator button? She spotted something that was interesting in the opposite direction the family was originally headed and shot off. The rest of the family dutifully obeyed, reversed course, and fast-walked to catch up to the head of the household.







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I'm A Bit Upset Right Now...

I am apologizing in advance for going political again.

Yesterday the US Senate acted like weak-kneed traitorous fools. The Senate Foreign Relations Committee approved a resolution condemning President Bush's surge plan in the war in Iraq. It will show up for a vote soon.

It is a non-binding resolution that will give our enemy hope. It is a slap in the face to our President and troops. It is unpatriotic and cowardly.

Before you assume my stance on the war, please be sure you clearly understand my view point: A non-binding resolution is NOTHING. It means NOTHING. It does NOTHING except push a political agenda and weaken the President and our armed forces.

The US Congress should do one of two things:

1. Embrace the plan, support it, and stand on the side for victory in the war on terror

OR

2. State clearly their opposition to the plan, and vote to de-fund the war in Iraq

There are only two sides to a line drawn in the sand. Those that are backing a non-binding piece of paper with words that say "We don’t like you. We don’t like what you want to do. We won't do anything about it, but we just want to let you know we don't like it one bit" aren’t even near the line. They are somewhere on another planet not doing anything that requires a spine.

Victory or defeat. Support or oppose. Back our President and troops for victory, or vote to de-fund the war in Iraq, end it now and bring our troops home. Those are the only choices for a true patriot- one willing to act on their beliefs.

Back to happy things now….

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24 Fever…Embarrassingly, I Just Got It

When 24 first premiered on Fox a couple years ago, I watched it and enjoyed it greatly. I then missed the next few episodes and never went back that first season. I just don’t watch much TV at all unless its news, and even then prefer breaking news around a big issue. After missing the first season, I certainly saw no value in starting season 2, and so on, and so on…

My sister-in-law wanted me to Tivo this season’s 2 day, 4 hour marathon season openers and I made time to watch them. Fortunately. I’m hooked.

In the show, things seem very dark for the United States. I don’t think after the Nuke went off, with the threat of 4 more to follow, that things could get much darker.

I had a flash back to a series of books I read sometime ago about the life of Winston Churchill (The Last Lion Volumes 1 and 2). Here is a man leading a nation that had death at its front door for 7 long years, and for a few of those years was mercilessly attacked by fellow government leaders that believed Britain could bring about peace and tranquility by appeasing and working with Hitler.

Despite Hitler’s words about conquering all of his enemies and ushering in a 1,000 year government that ruled the world, there were still British leaders that didn’t take the madman at his word. When someone has the power and weapons to destroy you, and tells you that he intends to, believe him.

What those British “leaders” didn’t understand is that Britain was a primary target of a madman that sought to end it’s influence over Europe and the world. Hitler had resolved to expend the blood, sweat and treasure of Germany to wipe out the British Islands.

We face an enemy as horrific and death-fascinated as Hitler and his SS Death squads. I went back and found one of the speeches Sir Winston Churchill delivered during some of the darkest days of WWII.

This is the closing of a speech he delivered to the British Parliament on June 18th, 1940:

“What General Weygand called the Battle of France is over. I expect that the Battle of Britain is about to begin. Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilization. Upon it depends our own British life, and the long continuity of our institutions and our Empire.

The whole fury and might of the enemy must very soon be turned on us. Hitler knows that he will have to break us in this Island or lose the war. If we can stand up to him, all Europe may be free and the life of the world may move forward into broad, sunlit uplands.

But if we fail, then the whole world, including the United States, including all that we have known and cared for, will sink into the abyss of a new Dark Age made more sinister, and perhaps more protracted, by the lights of perverted science.

Let us therefore brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that, if the British Empire and its Commonwealth last for a thousand years, men will still say, ‘This was their finest hour.’”

Sir Churchill delivered this speech after a horrific two weeks of defeats and failures capped off by the retreat at Dunkirk and the collapse of the French government to the invading Nazi army.

How timely is his message today as we face those that are sworn to remove our heads from our idle, rich, distracted, petty, arguing, preoccupied, partisan and appeasing shoulders.

Sorry for going political…24 got me all worked up.







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