Orphans Of God

Songs In My Head. For as long as I can remember, music has been a great influence in my life. As a teenager, many hours were spent in my room weeping to the strains of a sad song when my heart was broken, dancing with abandon when feeling happy, or doing my homework with the radio turned down low. It was impossible to drive anywhere without the radio blaring in the car. My mom had this really groovy console stereo system with an 8-track player and an LP turntable in it that we loved to crank up. Whenever she was in a bad mood, I’d go load up the turntable with Sonny James, Charlie Pride, Ray Price, Tammy Wynette… and sing at the top of my lungs. Before long, I’d see my mom’s foot tappin’, and pretty soon she’d be singin' too, and forget all about why she was grumpy. At least until the albums were finished playing. Late in the day, when the weather was nice, as a bribe to let me play my music (or “racket”, as they called it), I would offer to wash the dinner dishes if mom and dad would go outside in the yard. (okay, so I was the dumb one for thinking I was the winner here…. Haha) I have always had a stereo within my reach, either in my bedroom, my car, or my living room. Chores were always done with more vim and vigor if I had some good funky music filling the house. My tastes range from classical to classic rock. Somewhere between those two genre preferences, you’ll find old-timey gospel, Christian rock, contemporary Christian, Christmas instrumentals, some hard rock n’ roll, a smattering of country, 70s-80s pop/rock. And I love me some Departure! What you won’t find is rap, very little blues, absolutely NO swing, no hip-hop. Maybe one or two metal songs will find their way into my playlist, but none of the screaming death-metal stuff that is popular nowadays. For the past few years, my poor music collection has, for the most part, gone untouched. When Whitney and her family moved in, I packed up all but a small collection of my favorite CDs. I know that when I unpack the boxes I’ll be like a kid at Christmas, so happy to see my old friends! Because of a crazy work schedule for the past several years, and now having little ones underfoot, it’s a rare occasion when I turn up the volume and jam to good music at home any more. And for some strange reason, I find myself preferring silence while I am driving as opposed to jammin’ in my car. Isn’t it funny how things change as we age. Not to say that I enjoy music any less… not at all, it just doesn’t seem as crucial to me as food and drink like it once did. Of all the collection of music that I have, it continues to amaze me (and often distresses me) that the Songs In My Head… you know the ones that loop through your brain for hours on end… are not those that bring me such joy. It is songs like “We’re your best friends… The Backyardigans”… “I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family”… or “D-D-D-Dora, D-D-D-Dora” and then all the songs that go along with the little videos. Dora, Barney, The Backyardigans, The Veggie Tales, etc. I can sing the theme songs for nearly all the channel 8 children’s shows.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. The fact that these shows and songs are on my TV pretty much 18 hours of the day can only mean one thing, and that is that my precious grandbabies live in my house. That I would not change. (Well, maybe under the right circumstances I would change it, but I enjoy having them here SOOO much…) It would be nice, though, if my brain could have something else circulating through the neurons and nerve synapses other than “ta-ra-ra-boon-de-yay” (what kind of stupid song is that anyway???)

Today as I was working, Dora, Barney, Pablo, Larry the Cucumber, Caillou, and a myriad of other characters flowing freely through my head, I decided enough is enough. I went to my other computer, opened my playlist to put on some “work music”, namely selections by Il Divo. I like to listen to that while I work, because the words are in different languages that I can’t understand. If I understand the words, I want to sing along. That doesn’t bode well when transcribing someone’s medical reports. I’m sure they don’t want their operative note to read “oh my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch, a long, lonely time….” So it’s best that I stick with music that I can’t sing along with.

While at my Il Divo playlist, I saw my non-working playlist, and decided my brain needed a break from work, and clicked on the first song, called Orphans of God. Let me tell you about this song. I sing with a group of girls at church sometimes, and we try to find fresh, unique selections. Someone got the track for this song by Avalon. Last year when I was decorating for Leyland’s birthday party, I was alone, and had the track with me. I put it on the CD player while I was working, and absolutely fell in love with the MUSIC portion of the number. Without the words, I was able to hear the beautiful, rich, full chords of the instruments, and after a while, it was as though I could just “feel” the music in me. Does that ever happen to you?? It was my new favorite song. Later, when I had the sheet music with the words on it, I was blown away. This is the most perfect song ever. I don’t know of even one person who can’t identify with this. Well, maybe an agnostic or an atheist, but I can’t see how anyone who is even a tiny bit of a believer of God, anyone who can and will acknowledge His grace and His love, couldn’t be moved by the words to this song. When I saw it there in my playlist, I just had to have me an Avalon “fix” and listen. I listened several times. It is so uplifting, so encouraging to know that no matter how we have fallen, no matter how unloved or unwanted or weary we are, that He is there. People have differing levels of relationships with God, but no matter where you are, it is the perfect song. I hope you will click on this link and take a listen for yourself. Lyrics below, but if possible, listen also so you can “feel” the music. It adds so much to the words. I so needed this reminder today, and I’m so glad that I took a moment to listen.

Orphans of God
Who here among us has not been broken
Who here among us is without guilt or pain
So oft abandoned by our transgressions
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers, there are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen but hallelujah!
There are no orphans of God.

Come ye unwanted and find affection
Come all ye weary, come and lay down your head
Come ye unworthy, you are my brother
If such a thing as grace exists
Then grace was made for lives like this

There are no strangers
There are no outcasts
There are no orphans of God
So many fallen, but hallelujah!
There are no orphans of God

Oh blessed Father look down upon us
We are your children we need your love
We run before your throne of mercy
And seek your face to rise above

There are no strangers….

Amen, and amen!

My Other Birthday

Today is my "other" birthday. For 32 years, due to a typo on my driver's license when I turned 16, my "official/unofficial" birthday was 10-18-58. For those of you born after the technology age, you might be surprised to learn that the DMV operated differently back in the olden days. You were issued a temporary paper license, and waited several weeks for the much-coveted plastic version that officially registered you as driver in training. No such thing as punching a few buttons and getting your spiffy new plastic license in the blink of an eye. No... we waited endless days and weeks for its arrival. And couldn't wait to show all our friends!! In those days getting your "Learner's License" was the highlight of every 15-year-old kid, and we were worse than children at Christmas. There were only certain days of the month that the patrol officers would come to Winder, so you couldn't just run down there any day of the week to do it. When the appointed day came, our parents must lay aside whatever tasks were before them to ensure that we made it to the courthouse. With our hearts pounding in our chests, we filled out the application, and whatever else was required, showed our birth certificate, and oblivious to the panic and trepidation in our parents' eyes, celebrated our rite of passage as though it was the grandest thing ever. The (temporary) mother lode of independence, if you will.

A year or so later, after many hours of navigating the roads of our small town for practice (a feat which resulted in many grey haired moments for our moms, and many lectures from our dads), we set out for the loftiest prize of all... the permanent mother lode of independence.... the license that would allow us to drive ALONE, without nervous moms and high-strung dads in the car with us. What a moment! Though we were cocky and confident that we were invincible and could hold our own with any NASCAR driver on the circuit, I imagine that if we all confessed, we were scared out of our britches when the time came to actually turn the key and head out of our driveway. We didn't give one thought to our moms and dads at home praying, crying, worrying incessantly about us until we returned home. (An emotion with which we now, as parents ourselves, can identify as we watched our own kids drive away that first time!)

After impatiently checking the post-office box daily for several weeks, the ecstatic moment at long last had arrived. My beautiful, treasured, plastic-encased license to drive was finally in my eager little hands! While poring over the front of it, I noticed that my birthdate had been typed incorrectly. I was horrified!!! While only five days off, I was still distraught that the DMV had made me five days younger than I actually was. When you're 16, every day of life experience counts, and I didn't want to be cheated out of any of my days! My mom consoled me tirelessly, and finally convinced me that it didn't really matter to a hill o' beans, and we'd just get it fixed when it was time for renewal. Well..... even back in the olden days, nothing is easy with the government. The DMV wouldn't budge. Without a birth certificate, they absolutely wouldn't give me back my five days. By then, I was over the trauma, and conceded that maybe it really wasn't the end of the world, and I'd just bring my birth certificate next time. If your life is anything like ours, you probably guessed by now, that I never did get the birth certificate to the DMV. We always forgot about it until time to go for renewal, which was always an inopportune time to get to the bank safety-deposit box to retrieve said birth certificate. So for years, my official birthdate was 10-18-58. It totally became less of an issue as I got older, except for sometimes restaurants will give you a free meal or cake and ice cream on your birthday, but other than that it was no biggie, and I went for 32 years with the incorrect DOB on my license.

During one of my recent moves/house-rearranging projects, I came across an old scrapbook containing memorabilia from my teen years. You know the sort, cheerleading letters, movie stubs, prom invitations, and the like. What fun it was to peruse through the faded pages and take a trip down memory lane. Imagine my delight to find those original paper licenses, both for my learner's permit and my permanent license! It was then that I had a light-bulb moment.... surely if I took both of these "documents" to my next renewal, the DMV would have no choice but to change the date. After all, it was their typo. Typos is my business. (haha) My evaluation depends on at least 98% accuracy (which does NOT, I might add, carry over to my blog posts.... I'm just sayin'.....), so I figured they should be responsible for their typo and not expect me to bear the burden of proof of my actual birth date.

Shortly after Leyland was born, and after her first hospitalization, I was pulled over by a motorcycle cop for not having my tag renewed. Knowing what he was stopping me for, I was so proud of myself to reach into the dash and pull out my tag sticker, and explain to the officer that I was a brand new grandma, and the sweet little pumpkin had just been released from the hospital. I had purchased my tag in a timely fashion, just in all the hooplah that was my life, I had failed to apply the sticker to my tag. The officer was not impressed. I think he was upset because I actually did have my sticker. He looked at me with those mean policeman eyes, and without cracking a smile told me that my license had expired. I just grinned sweetly and said "You're kidding". "No, ma'am, I'm not kidding." The date was November 1. My birthday is October 13. Okay, so my license had expired, and my tag sticker wasn't applied. And he had absolutely no pity on me regarding my distress over my sick grandbaby. As I exited the vehicle to apply my tag sticker, Mr. Glaring Policeman, was busy writing me a ticket for an expired license. .....sigh..... At least I had a current insurance and registration cards. He probably would have handcuffed me and taken me to jail. The meanie.

Now forced to go to the DMV for license renewal, I took the brittle, faded license papers with me. The associate behind the counter looked at me as though I had brought her the Dead Sea Scrolls. She didn't even know what it was. I explained to her that back in the days of the Pony Express and shortly after the invention of the light bulb, that we had a waiting period for our license and, yes, these were legally accepted forms of identification that permitted us to navigate a motor vehicle on all roads, dirt and paved. I explained the discrepancy in the dates, and with all my charm and sweetness, finally convinced her that it was a DMV error, and my birth certificate was located in a safety deposit box far, far away (well, Winder would be far, far away from the DMV Office in Athens if you didn't HAVE a license, and had to walk.....). After showing my antiquated papers to her equally-amazed colleagues, she/they finally agreed that my new license could finally proclaim my correct DOB. Hallelujah. However there was a catch. They had to issue the license in my maiden name. Not just my last name, but the entire name. I told them my legal name is Cathy, and it would be confusing to have my entire name on there. She wouldn't give an inch. She gave me a cockamamie story about Homeland Security requiring our official govt-issued identification be exactly as whatever legal documentation we have to prove otherwise. In my case, for that particular day, it was my original licenses. I suppose this would mean that instead of my birth certificate, I would have needed to provide divorce papers and a court amendment. Good grief. So. In essence, I have traded in the correct date of birth for a license that now calls me Linda Catherine Watkins Bennett. Oh well. At least I got my five days back. Happy "other" birthday to me. I'm sure there will be cake and presents.

Why Dogs Hate Halloween

Thanks for sharing, Diane!!!

THE HILL Looks A Lot Steeper (on the down side of 50!)

Over The Hill. I passed that milestone last year, when I turned half-century old. What an interesting half-century it was. It really is kind of like a roller coaster. You know, that first hill you climb ever so slowly. You seem to hesitate for a moment at the very top, and then you go barelling down the other side of the hill, a hundred times faster than you went up it. There must be some rule or law in physics that mandates the passage of time move at warp speed the older we get. Remember when you were a kid, and Christmas took like four and a half years to come around again? The other day I came across a roll of Sesame Street wrapping paper that I swear I used just last week to wrap gifts for the children. And now here we are again at the threshold of another holiday season. Where does it go? At some point on that roller coaster ride, we find ourselves at the point of "zero gravity" where we are suspended in mid-air somewhere between the safety bar and the seat. (Well, okay... I will admit that the size of my butt has made my "zero gravity" experience less and less over the years... but you skinny folks will know what I'm talking about...). The moment of weightlessness where there is no rhyme or reason to just how it is that we are floating in mid air. I seem to have moments like that every day, and there's not a roller coaster within miles of me. Dare I refer to them as Senior Moments? When, for the life of me, I can't remember what I was looking for, I lose my train of thought in mid-sentence, and worst of all, if I am lucky enough to remember what it was I was looking for, you can bet I'll never find it. I'm sure I put it in a safe place somewhere so I could locate it easily the next time I need it. No rhyme or reason. One of these days when it is time for Whitney to put me in the Old Folks' Home, and we're moving my junk out of the house, I will find all those misplaced items. I won't remember what they are, or what I intended to use them for, or why they were hidden in such a place, but oh yes, I imagine we'll have a nice Lost & Found box. So why is it that time passes by so much quicker as we get older? Are we just crazy busy, with too much to do and not enough hours in the day to do it? I wonder, does it whiz by as quickly when you retire? Or does life slow down a little bit once you don't have to work a 40-50 hour week any more? I've often heard people say, once they retire, that they stay so busy they don't know how they ever had time to work. Yeah, I could totally see me being that way too. But in the meantime, I'll stay on the roller coaster, digging in my heels, trying to make the other side of that hill not quite so steep and slow it down a bit. Holding on for dear life when the ride is rough, and holding my hands high in the air during the fun parts. It's wierd, thinking about the circle of life, growing up from a baby, being a teenager, becoming an adult, becoming a parent and a grandparent. That's a lot of livin' in 50 years. Well, 51 to be exact. I just wonder what life will bring, on this the downhill side of 50?

Peace Out! (The "Huhs?" Heard Round The World)

Last night I slept in my very own bed for the first time in a week. My first night back from the beach I slept on the sofa to be near Leyland's room if she awoke during the night. The following night I slept in a recliner in the hospital room with Corey. Last night found me feeling a bit rough around the edges, with thoughts of the flu hanging low over my head, but happy to be back in my own bed. As usual, I fell asleep listening to the Fox News Channel. After Mr. Sandman finally paid me a visit, it was off to dreamland for me. My dreams run the gamut of silly, nonsensical vignettes to wonderful moments of tropical paradise, to the downright scary sort. Sometimes I remember them, sometimes I don't. Upon awakening this morning, I found myself chuckling at the memory of a most unlikely dream. I could clearly hear in my subconcious mind the voice of my friends in the Fox studio, the report that Barak Obama had won the Nobel Peace Prize. Dreams are sometimes funny, aren't they??

Oh wait..... imagine my surprise to learn that it wasn't a silly, nonsensical (though definitely scary) REM-induced vision, but rather a nonsensical reality!

Where did this come from? Obama, nominated after a mere ELEVEN days in office, wasn't even in the top three contenders. Could this perhaps be a consolation prize from our Scandinavian friends for not winning the 2016 Olympic bid? Reports from all over the world are resounding with a big "HUH?"

The NPP has been awarded to our President based on "extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation". Oh, Yes. He has indeed put forth an effort to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation. Few would probably argue with that. It is his method of "effort" that leaves most of us in appalled disbelief. Diplomacy does not mean apology. He has gone around the world apologizing for America's "arrogance, dismissiveness, and derisiveness", bowing to the king of Saudi Arabia, demeaning the character of our nation, while aligning himself to leaders of terrorist countries. They say he is being awarded for his "intention" to ban nuclear arms and promote a nuclear-free world. Ummm, no. He isn't doing that. He is too busy making himself available to sit down with Ahmadinejad, Chavez and Castro without preconditions. Too busy kissing up to these abominable leaders to sit down and talk with his own appointed commander of the war in Afghanistan. Too busy questioning the experience of the three top military advisors on their recommendations to sit down and talk with them. "No rush", he says, while too busy RUSHING congress to vote on a health care bill that has yet to even be written. Too busy pushing a problem-riddled total overhaul of the health care system that will change life as we know it, to FIX the acknowledged billions of fraud in the insurance system that is already run by the government. Too busy trying to hide the resumes and belief systems of the czars he has appointed to advise him. Too busy breaking his promise of transparent government made during his campaign. Too busy promoting anything BUT peace in his own country by standing back and allowing American citizens (demoncrats, republicans, libertarians, independents) including and especially members of his own cabinet to fight a bloody battle over racism, indoctrination, and socialism. Too busy letting the limelight fall on one (albiet rude) representative who shouted "You Lie!", when in fact he WAS lying, since the constitution does provide protection for illegals. Too busy destroying the work carried out for decades by MLK and his followers to promote equal rights, by allowing racism to escalate to heights not seen in years.

To put it in perspective: Michael Jackson has been nominated for the 2010 award.

Ghandi was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize five times. He never won.

I guess the next order of business will be petitioning the pope for sainthood.

Swine Flu

Today I received some distressing news from home. Corey has swine flu!! Yesterday he had diarrhea, this morning had a fever and some vomiting. He saw the doctor today, who quickly diagnosed him with H1N1. Fortunately, we had been to the office a few weeks ago and they were downplaying it, saying lots of kids were coming in with it and so far all had responded well to Tamiflu. Miss Cheryl even told Whitney not to tell me, knowing that I was several hundred miles from home. By the time she picked up Leyland from Randy's house, she (Leyland) was having diarrhea as well, and both kids had poopy pants by the time they got home. As if things weren't bad enough, upon arriving home, Whitney realized she had locked herself out of the house. Fortunately, DJ has a set of keys to my house. Fortunately I have a set of keys to her house. Fortunately, Whitney had my keys (which unfortunately didn't have a key to my room or to the deadbolt). After I remembered this tiny detail, I called and she was able to go to DJs and get keys and get into the house. What an day!! They were feeling better by late afternoon, but tonight Corey didn't want his bedtime bottle, and threw up immediately after getting his medicine. Hopefully he'll be able to keep down another dose. Please keep them all in your prayers. She is insisting that we not come home - yet - but I won't be surprised if we pack it up early and head home earlier than planned, especially if Whitney and Dustin get sick too. She said we'd probably be better off staying here, so maybe we can avoid getting it. I sure don't want mom and dad to catch it! Sure is hard being away when my family is sick!

Greetings from Under the Umbrella

If I believed in the multiple-life theory, I'd say my former life was definitely one of a beach bum. It takes very little to entertain me and keep me happy in these, my early golden years. A beach umbrella, a comfy chair and a good book (or not), a day without rain, and I'm good to go. Ahhh life at the beach is fabulous. So far every day we have slept late, lolled about drinking coffee until after the noon hour. Afternoons spent on the beach, dinner at the townhouse, and evenings watching tv. Certainly not the normal touristy things, but then again we're not tourists. We rather refer to ourselves as part-time residents. I'm a 1/52 MB resident! Today was a cool, rainy day, which made sleeping in even more enjoyable. The afternoon was spent shopping, where I scored a new dress and new purse. Thank you Aunt Joyce and Mom! Such a lazy day... we napped the rest of the afternoon away, had a late dinner of homemade chicken stew, and now just enjoying some tv and laptop time.

Now about my umbrella... A few years ago DJ and I came over here for a scrapbook marathon. During our stay, my beautiful beach umbrella bailed on me. Totally bit the dust. I fought a good battle, trying to make it work, but finally gave up and tossed it in the trash. I was so sad. DJ laughed and laughed at me, and took all sorts of unflattering pictures of me fighting with my (beautiful) umbrella. I'm all about a pretty beach umbrella, and have made terrible fun of my dad for sitting under the ugliest beach umbrella of all time... for many years. (Thankfully, he bought a new one, actually a patio umbrella that makes a honkin' huge patch of shade... so I can't make fun of him any more.) I'm very happy to say that this year I am once again the proud owner of the prettiest umbrella on the beach. Sometimes I'll feed Kobe and KoKo when DJ and David are out of town. After one such time, 'the boys' presented me with thank-you gift... a pink and green beach umbrella!!! The photo above was taken lying on my back from underneath its cover. Fabulous. I am missing my grandbabies, but otherwise it is truly the perfect vacation.

Birthday Party Meltdown

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEYLAND!!!!

The video I posted yesterday (Charlie Bit Me) is one of the cutest I've seen. It goes without saying, though, that the pictures and videos of my precious grandchildren are THE cutest ones ever!! Here's the birthday girl wearing her Birthday Girl shirt and sporting her backpack this morning when she went with Mommy to run some errands. Below is a cute little video of The Birthday Party Meltdown. A little history: At her first and second birthday parties, Leyland would cry whenever we sang Happy Birthday to her. She was okay to sing it to other folks on their birthdays, but for some reason, she would cry when it was her turn to be the birthday girl. This year, though, she seemed to be quite excited about it! Her mom put her down for a nap early on the afternoon of her birthday, knowing that a nap-deprived toddler doesn't make for a pleasant afternoon for anyone. Even Princens get grumpy without a nap. A few minutes later, she called out for a drink, and as I was taking it to her room, I could hear her in there singing Happy Birthday to Curious George, Barney, Elmo, and some of her other stuffed friends. She laughed when I walked in and started singing Happy Birthday to Greemaw. So, we were hopeful that the birthday song wouldn't send her over the edge this time around. She was very sweet all afternoon, and really enjoyed opening her presents, and being the Party Princen. When it came time to light the candles and sing the birthday song, she was so excited!! All was going well until.... well, watch for yourself...

Poor Peyton was so upset!! She was crying just as hard as Leyland! In the end, though, everyone was happy, everyone had a turn blowing out candles, and they all lived happily ever after. Just the way it is supposed to be for little princesses everywhere. Happy Birthday, sweet pea. Greemaw loves you so very much!!!

Charlie Bit Me!!!

This is one of the cutest videos I have ever seen. Whitney and I have watched it a zillion times and it just gets cuter. Be sure to turn up the speakers, and listen closely. Sweet little English accent just makes it cuter. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

Princen Party

Leyland's birthday is Tuesday. We celebrated today with a Princen Party down at the church. In case you don't remember, "princen" is Leyland's word for "princess". Oh yeah, she's in full Princen mode these days. It was a lovely day with lots of family and friends on hand to celebrate the day. I'm posting a few pictures here. There are more on my Facebook page. Click to enlarge.

A Very Tired Birthday Princess!

I Pledge Allegiance

For those of you over a certain age, do you remember how you started the day when you were in school? First there would be roll call. On Mondays you’d turn in your $1.25 lunch money for the week. Then what? Everyone (and I mean everyone) in the classroom would stand at attention beside our desks, place our hands over our hearts, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance. And before we sat down, we would bow our heads, and everyone would recite the Lord’s Prayer. Just another fond memory of The Good Old Days. Were there children from non-Christian homes in class? I’m quite sure there were. Did their parents come down with clenched fists, attorneys in tow, threatening to call the ACLU? Nah, most kids I know just recited it and accepted it as something you do. Part of the school day. In the small world in which I grew up, most families I knew went to church, and believed in God, regardless of what they might do on Saturday night. And for the ones who didn’t, nobody ever objected to reference to God or the Pledge to the Flag… my goodness, we even had a Bible Lady who came into the schools!!! How we loved the Bible Lady with her felt storyboards, which she magically turned into beautiful scenes from well-loved Bible stories. Learn John 3:16 and get yourself a New Testament. I always had my eye on that sparkling, glitter-laden wall motto (and I still like sparkly things!), but I never memorized enough scripture to earn it.

Times have surely changed, and while it is certainly the American, even the God-given right of any individual to accept or reject the existence of God, as well as a personal relationship with Him, it has long been more about politics than about religion. Or perhaps the mixture thereof. Regarding the Pledge thing, I learned only recently of a Supreme Court ruling back in the 1940s that said a person could not be “forced” into reciting the Pledge of Allegience. Back then, it was not the “under God” part of the text that gave cause for concern, (quite the opposite) rather the idea of “pledging” oneself to something OTHER than God, i.e. to the Republic or the Flag. Some people felt that to do so was to put another entity above God. Being a believer and follower of God myself, I guess I can kind of see that, although it never occurred to me that I might be undermining my “pledge” to God by pledging allegiance to my country, or the flag that represents her. In my mind, God is God is God and comes before and above my allegiance to anything else… ever. However- it is indeed a law that school children can’t be forced to stand and recite the pledge. That makes me sad. In the olden days we were taught morals, and were taught to love and respect our nation. Our President was someone to be looked upon with honor. Hopefully some of us also learned this at home too, and our mamas and daddys taught us to stand respectfully, with our hands over our hearts when we said The Pledge, or sang the National Anthem. It is such a powerful feeling, that even to this day I get a lump in my throat whenever I say The Pledge, or when I sing the National Anthem. At my church we will sing patriotic songs around July 4th, Memorial Day, Veteran’s Day. It is always a struggle to get the words out, because my throat constricts with that powerful feeling of love of country (in spite of all her problems today). The feeling of gratitude for my forefathers who bled and died to ensure our freedom and liberty. The feeling of sadness for families today who miss their loved ones as they serve our nation far from home.

I suppose the point of this post is to encourage young parents to please instill in your children the HONOR and PRIVILEGE to pledge their allegiance to this Republic and The Flag that represents our nation. It takes nothing away from your commitment to God. (Kids won’t even understand that anyhow.) Teach them that saying The Pledge is not a “duty” at school, like learning and reciting math formulas, but rather a way to show love and respect to a nation that (again, in spite of her problems today), is the best place on earth to live.

Parents, teach your kids to say The Pledge. When my grandchildren are just a bit older, I hope to have a little routine, like Whitney did in daycare, to pause for a moment, say a prayer, say The Pledge, and sing little songs to learn the days of the week. Teach them young so that it is a part of their lives, and when they go to school and find out that they don’t “have to say it”… that will seem a foreign concept to them. If you don’t teach them at home, when they get to school and find out they don’t “have to say it”, then how many of them do you think will take the time to learn it, and what will it mean to them? Especially when most of them will have seen that our current President holds exhibiting that manner of patriotism with such little regard.

And for those folks who don’t want to say it because your forefathers lived in caves and oppressed your female ancestors, or because your ancestors worked as slaves on a plantation, or because it goes against what you learned in the Koran, or if it offends your motherland, whether you arrived in this country through Ellis Island, or whether you came here illegally…. My thought is this: If you are sitting in an American classroom, paid for by American tax dollars, then if you won’t pledge your allegiance to this country, (and if you won’t go back to where you came from), you should at least drop your head and pray to whomever you pray to and thank your god for the opportunity to sit in that classroom, free of charge, and obtain an education. And you should keep your mouth shut if others in the classroom saying The Pledge offends you.

A few squeaky wheels were responsible for getting The Lord’s Prayer taken out of schools. There’s already a law protecting those who don’t want to say The Pledge. How many squeaky wheels (or ACLU attorneys) will it take to have The Pledge banned from our classrooms???

Oh Jimmy!

I've been called many things in my life, recently including a "terrorist". (here) But now the former President of the United States, a good ol' boy from Georgia, has called me a racist. Not me personally, not by name, but by virtue of generalization. He said "I think an overwhelming portion of the intensely demonstrated animosity toward President Barack Obama is based on the fact that he is a black man, that he's African-American," Carter told "NBC Nightly News."

Get Out. Granted, there will always be those few who don't want him to be President because he is black. This goes back to many of my posts during the election campaigns. (That is supposed to be a BAD thing, while it is okay that zillions of black people voted for him only BECAUSE he is black. What's the difference? Racism is Racism.)

However. Disagreeing with with government policy doesn't make me a racist any more than it makes me a terrorist. I didn't agree with everything George Bush did. Does that make me a... racist against.... my own race? Seriously. You didn't see the Bush administration pulling the race card every time a black person criticized him. And believe me, that administration took its share of criticism. And still does.

Interestingly, the Chairman of the RNC is a black man. He disagrees with Carter, and states that those so quick to pull that race card are doing more harm to President Obama than they are good.

Ya'll "Racism" folks need to just get over it. We don't like his policy. I wouldn't like the policy if Ward Cleaver, Andy Griffeth, John Wayne or Charlton Heston were the president.

There are too many other urgent matters on the table to be wasting time on playing the race card, especially with the Joe Wilson thing. I'd venture to say that Mr. Wilson would have made his statement (however inappropriate in the setting), if Ward, Andy, John or Charlton had been the one doing the lying.

Mr. Obama, a great many Americans disagree with your policies, and do not trust you to tell the truth. It's just a fact. I'm sure you don't like it. But c'mon! Take it like a man. Don't hide behind the racism cry. You gotta know that in order to please one group of people, you're going to displease another. You and your folks need to stop pouting like kids on the playground. Get over it. We're not communists, terrorists, or racists. We're Americans, just voicing our discontent, an action that is protected by the Constitution. And we will continue to voice it. You work for us, remember?? Get busy with the real issues de-funding ACORN, requiring czars to undergo congressional hearings, and most important to the immediate future, revise the current health reform bill. Get at it. Stop whining.

And Jimmy... with all due respect... just go back to building houses and planting peanuts. You disappoint me. Put down your stick, and stop stirring the pot.

Something In The Water?

Wow!!! There's been lots of baby news lately! Gemma Claire is due to arrive in about a month. This morning we learned that Brandi is having a girl, Brooke Addison. And just this evening I learned that (my nephew) Ryan and Alissa are expecting a baby in March!! Such happy news!! We've been purging closets and the storage building lately, and I found myself wanting to snuggle a tiny baby again as we folded away the newborn outfits that belonged to Leyland and Corey. Now it looks like there are three new babies about to join the family. That being said, I'm glad we don't have to filter the water at The 409. No more babies here for sure. We'll just enjoy them from (not too much) afar. Congratulations ya'll!!! Can't wait to snuggle with the new little bundles.

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Czars

(Note: For some reason Blogger is choosing random words to underline and link. These are not my links, unless it says "click here", so don't click on any of those green underlined words. They're not my links.)

Czar. When I used to hear that word, it conjured up visions of Russia in the old days. Not the case any more. Now when I hear the word czar, and if you follow political news closely, you're hearing it an awful lot, I think of my own government. I had no idea that the president has the authority to appoint whomever he chooses to be advisors in certain areas. Apparently this practice isn't new. I believe it started with FDR, who created The Office of Price Administration, and its director was given the title of "czar" by the media. (Now, don't go getting too impressed about my knowledge, I'm just a huge Google fan!) So it's not a new practice, just an unfamiliar one to most folks, I'd bet.

These appointments do not require any vetting, nor any votes of approval by congress. These czars are not even accountable to the congress, the cabinet, the American people, nor anyone but the President of the United States. How scary is that! If we needed a Czar of Scrapbooking, I'd be just as qualified as anyone, and the president could choose me if he wanted to. I doubt seriously that Mr. Obama knows about the hazards of acid and lignen on photographs, or the best way to adhere vellum to a layout. He probably has no idea which adhesive works best for mulberry paper. I'm fairly certain he's never heard of a Cricut, and probably wouldn't know what to do with a Cuttlebug if it came up and bit him on the nose. I can only imagine what he would try to do with a corner rounder, and the only thing he could deduce about a Memory Makers took kit is that trying to board an airplane with it in your carryon would probably get you arrested. However, with a scrapbook czar by his side, feeding him information and showing him techniques, pretty soon he'd be able to make a scrapbook of his own. More likely, though, he'd grow weary of the process and just tell the scrapbook czar just to make the decisions, design the layout, do whatever necessary to make the process work, and then he would sign off on it as though it were his own creation.

Sound a bit far-fetched to you? Hmmm let's see. I wonder how much a junior senator from Chicago knows about the reality of health care, auto recovery, border control, green living, etc. How in the world will he be presidential and preside over so much that he knows so little about? Well, by appointing people to *help* him and advise him. Glenn Beck from FNN reports that there are currently approximately 32 czars, with several more yet to be appointed. To see a list of them, their salary (if known) and a brief *job* description, click here.

Now here's where it gets interesting. If you watch network news, you won't have heard much about this, but watch-dog news reporters such as FNN, have been all over this. Over the weekend, the appointed Green Jobs Czar, Van Jones, resigned his position. It seems that Mr. Jones is a radical, self-proclaimed communist radical. Don't believe me? Do your own Google or You-Tube search and see some of the outrageous statements he has made. Because of the watch-dog reporting, much attention has been focused on this man, which in turn brings about question and unease as to why the leader of our nation would appoint such a dispicable person to advise him on ANYTHING. Mr. Jones has lashed out against the reports, blaming it on the "republicans", even saying in a speaking engagement that republicans are "@ssholes". And that is a quote. Many were calling for his resignation for the past few weeks, just because of who he has aligned himself with in the past, STORM, the communist party, etc. However, the final nail in his coffin came at the end of last week when it was uncovered that in 2004, I believe it was, he signed a form stating that he believed the Bush administration was involved in a 9-11 conspiracy. When questioned about it, he claims that he "didn't read the report carefully". Huh? Here's another example: Excerpt from a Nov. 2005 interview in the East Bay Express: Jones had planned to move to Washington, DC, and had already landed a job and an apartment there. But in jail, he said, "I met all these young radical people of color -- I mean really radical, communists and anarchists. And it was, like, 'This is what I need to be a part of.'" Although he already had a plane ticket, he decided to stay in San Francisco. "I spent the next ten years of my life working with a lot of those people I met in jail, trying to be a revolutionary." In the months that followed, he let go of any lingering thoughts that he might fit in with the status quo. "I was a rowdy nationalist on April 28th, and then the verdicts came down on April 29th," he said. "By August, I was a communist." In 1994, the young activists formed a socialist collective, Standing Together to Organize a Revolutionary Movement, or STORM, which held study groups on the theories of Marx and Lenin and dreamed of a multiracial socialist utopia. They protested police brutality and got arrested for crashing through police barricades. In 1996, Jones decided to launch his own operation, which he named the Ella Baker Center after an unsung hero of the civil-rights movement.

At any rate, in a time when so many other issues of importance are at stake, the Obama administration doesn't need to spend time, energy and resources defending this reprehensible man, so his resignation was called for. His letter of resignation begins: "On the eve of historic fights for health care and clean energy, opponents of reform have mounted a vicious smear campaign against me. They are using lies and distortions to distract and divide."

Seriously??? No responsibility for his actions? Poor fella!! The big bad Americans who have the audacity to oppose Mr. Obama's proposals, are making up terrible lies about him. (I guess we fabricated the videos and written reports as well. Aren't we just creative like that!) These are the words of an arrogant man who was in the upper echelons of (appointed) government, who had the ear of our president. Sorta makes me question (again) the judgment of our leader!

Check it out for yourself. Do a Google search on the czar system, and especially these two names: Cass Sunstein, John Holdren. These are the people who are advising our president.

Pride

An awesome young lady in my church posted this on her Facebook page, and I wanted to share. Thanks, Anna.

Pride

My name is Pride.
I am a cheater.
I cheat you of your God-given destiny...because you demand your own way.
I cheat you of contentment...because you "deserve better than this."
I cheat you of knowledge...because you already know it all.
I cheat you of healing...because you're too full of me to forgive.
I cheat you of holiness...because you refuse to admit when you're wrong.
I cheat you of vision...because you'd rather look in the mirror than out a window.
I cheat you of genuine friendship...because nobody's going to know the real you.
I cheat you of love...because real romance demands sacrifice.
I cheat you of greatness in heaven...because you refuse to wash another's feet on earth.
I cheat you of God's glory...because I convince you to seek your own.
My name is Pride.
I am a cheater.
You like me because you think I'm always looking out for you.
Untrue.
God has so much for you, I admit.
But don't worry...If you stick with me,you'll never know.
-Broadman & Holman

Hello Blog

Remember me? I seem to have neglected writing for quite some time now. I remember when rarely a day would pass that didn't find me posting something. One of the reasons I haven't been posting as much is that I've become a Facebook Junkie. It's fun to click on there and see what folks are up to. Another reason is that life at The 409 continues to be crazy in a warp-speed kind of way. Whitney has been experiencing some post-childbirth, pelvic stress issues, and it was determined that she would have to undergo surgery. After carefully checking the calendar against The Snoops' travel agenda, my co-workers' vacation times and a couple of things I had scheduled, we narrowed it down to a two-week period that would coincide well with the above-mentioned plans. Unfortunately, none of those dates were available. Our choices were a date eight weeks in the future, or five days in the future. YIKES!! My parents were out of town, but we decided to go ahead and take the appointment anyway. She was just too uncomfortable to wait eight more weeks. So this past Wednesday found us at the hospital, where she underwent a hysterectomy. Such a drastic surgery indeed for one so young, but her ovaries were left intact, which will allow her to avoid hormone-replacement therapy. Believe it or not, she was discharged from the hospital 23 hours later, in a fair amount of pain, but far better than I was after having a similar surgery at age 33. Recovery has been slow and steady, with a minor, but excruciatingly painful, episode of ileus on Friday afternoon. Today she is still moving quite slowly, but I am amazed at how well she is doing. She is restricted from lifting anything at all for six weeks, which means no picking up the babies. Dustin and I will be tag-teaming it until she is able to resume her mommy duties. I'll be working second shift so that I can take care of the children until he gets home from his job, then he will assume the role of caregiver for Whitney and take care of the chidlren while I work. The kids know that things are wierd, and they're not quite sure what to make of it.

I've been reminded this week to count my blessings. I'm especially thankful for:

~My parents, who were sorely missed this past week.
~My parents, who are home now and will be helping out in the coming weeks.
~Whitney's cousin Tammy, who kept the children so I could be at the hospital the morning of surgery.
~The flexibility of my job to allow me to work 2nd shift during Whit's recovery, and my wonderful co-workers who are like an extension of family. Thanks, guys.. Ya'll rock!
~Whitney's grandmother, Nany, who stayed with her all day on Thursday while Dustin worked and I stayed home with the children.
~Family members and friends who called and e-mailed with thoughts, prayers, words of encouragement, and offers to help.
~To Dr. Campbell, the most wonderful physician/surgeon.
~And most importantly, to God for a safe and successful surgery.
CathyB

Hooked on Fox

Different times in my life have found me "hooked" on many different things. Hobbies, movies, pets, crafts, primetime tv shows, etc. I was never much of a broadcast news-watcher, though, until 9-11. Like most of the world, I was glued to the tv for days and weeks. Ever since then, I have kept one eye on the news headlines most all the time. "Disaster or Catastrophe Watch", if you will. First thing in the morning if Fred is whistling (his s's) about a purse-snatcher at Lenox Mall, or Karen is telling me to pack my umbrella, then I'm confident no major news broke while I slept. It's a comforting feeling. I've long been a fan of Good Morning America, and most of ABCs primetime shows like 20/20, and all the variants thereof. I also realized many years ago that the media is HUGE in how we view life in America and in the world. They pretty much run the place, actually. We believe what we see and hear from Charlie, Katie, Brian and the rest of the bunch. If they say we're in a recession, we believe them. If they say the president's popularity numbers are rising... who are we to question? We believe them. We believe what we are fed, unless we question what we are fed. Recently I've been watching the Fox News Network, and I have been amazed at the polar opposite spin on the news. Yes, I know that many people think those folks on FNN are a bunch of raving lunatics, spewers of untruths bent on discrediting the government. I must say that these raving lunatics have become some of my favorite folks!! I'll admit that the real Truth probably lies somewhere between the leftist liberal media and the far right-wing conservative media... but I'm leaning waaaaaaaay toward the right. The motto of Fox News is "We Report, You Decide". I like that. Sure, they are "planting" information... but more than information, they are planting questions. Questions that somebody needs to be asking. For too long we have simply not questioned what our government is doing. We sit around the dinner table or the cafeteria at work and complain, but we don't ask the right questions to the right people. Which is one reason we are in the mess we are in. For some reason, we have been of the mindset that our government is going to take care of us, and over the years, we have entrusted our freedom and liberty into their hands. Now we find ourselves in a stinker of a mess, and some very brave, angry people are heeding the call to action. Enter the "astroturf, the angry, terrorist mobs," who are asking questions. Asking questions, and demanding answers. When supporters rally a cause they believe in, the politicians eat it up and it's all over the network news. When the opposition shows up, they are presented in the media as anti-American. Wait just a minute. I'd be willing to propose that those folks are more American than I am. They've taken their time, energy, and passion to let their voices be heard, while I just sit here and write a blog that very few people will read. The network news (which I still watch, by the way) will have us believe that those crazy folks over at FNN are the anti-American ones, along with the town-hall protesters. Though perhaps a bit zealous in their approach at times, I'm impressed that those folks are willing to risk ridicule, persecution, and sometimes personal safety, to give us The Other Side Of The Story. Quick to tell you what is fact and what is opinion, they provide information that government officials would much prefer we didn't know. Recently a group tried to eliminate The O'Reilly Factor, because Bill is just "out there" and isn't afraid to say anything.. yet he delivers stories to make you think... they tried to eliminate him by manipulating sponsors to remove ads from his show. Didn't work. Another group is now trying the same thing with Glenn Beck. Ringleader of this latest attempt is none other than the FCC diversity "czar"... in other words, someone from WITHIN the White House administration. Kind of makes me think of something my Bible teacher told me once: Satan will leave you alone as long as you are passive in your relationship with God. You are no threat to him. Start moving closer to God, or doing His work, and he will be after you like white on rice. Well, maybe she didn't say it just like that, but that was the gist of it. So if the folks at FNN are just a bunch of raving lunatics, and if there is no truth in what they tell us, why are the liberals trying so hard to shut them down? I invite you to turn the channel and check out Sean Hannity, Glenn Beck, and Bill O'Reilly, for starters. You may not believe what you see or hear, and that's okay, but for sure you'll be exposed to thoughts and questions that you won't see anywhere on the network news. And besides that, you'll probably learn some things you didn't know, like how the healthcare bill includes a section that funds up to 1.6 billion dollars for "community transformation grants" to build jungle gyms and walking trails in community parks. Read about it here . If I were an uninsured American, fighting to support the healthcare bill, I would be furious at such blatant pork-barrel spending that somebody (probably the father of the jungle-gym manufacturer) is trying to push through in the name of healthcare. As an opposer of the bill, I am appalled. Makes me wonder what else is hidden in those 1000 pages that nobody seems able to read and decipher! Anyway, give FNN a whirl. Whether or not you like what you see/hear, perhaps you'll be intrigued to do some research on your own, and you may learn that they are closer to the truth than you might think.

And lest I be labeled as single-minded, I still listen to both sides. I read Time and Newsweek when possible, and I still love Good Morning America. I just enjoy them from the other side of the (media) fence now.

My friend Kelly passed this along today. If it weren't so scary, it might be funny.

Let me get this straight. Obama's health care plan will be written by a committee whose head says he doesn't understand it, passed by a Congress that hasn't read it and whose members will be exempt from it, signed by a president who smokes, funded by a treasury chief who did not pay his taxes, overseen by a surgeon general who is obese, and financed by a country that is broke. What could possibly go wrong?

An Interesting Article

I find this article to be very interesting. From its content, it would appear to have been written during the 80s, when Reagan was in office, however, the facts hold true regardless of the time. What do you think?


(Disclaimer: As with any blog content I post and/or quote from another source, I cannot validate its accuracy. But this one sounds pretty good to me!!)
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The 545 People Responsible For All Of U.S. Woes
By Charley Reese

(Date of publication unknown)-- -- - Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them.Have you ever wondered why, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits, we have deficits? Have you ever wondered why, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, we have inflation and high taxes?You and I don't propose a federal budget. The president does. You and I don't have the Constitutional authority to vote on appropriations. The House of Representatives does. You and I don't write the tax code. Congress does. You and I don't set fiscal policy. Congress does. You and I don't control monetary policy. The Federal Reserve Bank does.One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president and nine Supreme Court justices - 545 human beings out of the 235 million - are directly, legally, morally and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.I excluded the members of the Federal Reserve Board because that problem was created by the Congress. In 1913, Congress delegated its Constitutional duty to provide a sound currency to a federally chartered but private central bank.I excluded all but the special interests and lobbyists for a sound reason. They have no legal authority. They have no ability to coerce a senator, a congressman or a president to do one cotton-picking thing. I don't care if they offer a politician $1 million dollars in cash. The politician has the power to accept or reject it.No matter what the lobbyist promises, it is the legislation's responsibility to determine how he votes.A CONFIDENCE CONSPIRACYDon't you see how the con game that is played on the people by the politicians? Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault. They cooperate in this common con regardless of party.What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall. No normal human being would have the gall of Tip O'Neill, who stood up and criticized Ronald Reagan for creating deficits.The president can only propose a budget. He cannot force the Congress to accept it. The Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, gives sole responsibility to the House of Representatives for originating appropriations and taxes.O'neill is the speaker of the House. He is the leader of the majority party. He and his fellow Democrats, not the president, can approve any budget they want. If the president vetos it, they can pass it over his veto.REPLACE SCOUNDRELSIt seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 300 million cannot replace 545 people who stand convicted -- by present facts - of incompetence and irresponsibility.I can't think of a single domestic problem, from an unfair tax code to defense overruns, that is not traceable directly to those 545 people.When you fully grasp the plain truth that 545 people exercise power of the federal government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist.If the tax code is unfair, it's because they want it unfair. If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red. If the Marines are in Lebanon, it's because they want them in Lebanon.There are no insoluble government problems. Do not let these 545 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take it.Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exist disembodied mystical forces like "the economy," "inflation" or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do.Those 545 people and they alone are responsible. They and they alone have the power. They and they alone should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses - provided they have the gumption to manage their own employees.

This article was first published by the Orlando Sentinel Star newspaper

Don't get excited about the Obama administration's decision to back down on public-option health care. Don't be relieved to learn about the co-op. The co-op is just as bad, and will morph into public option. Keep speaking up, America! Don't settle for co-op as a tradeoff for public-option. It is ultimately the same thing. Just Say No.

Mama Jo

The past few weeks have been really tough for DJ's family. Many of you know, and have been praying for, Mama Jo and Delores. Mama Jo got her wings on Thursday, and passed from this life into eternity. It's never easy to relinqish those whom we love, but this is one of those times that we had been praying for a swift, merciful end. We said our final goodbyes yesterday to the body that once hosted the life of this woman who was loved by many. At the gravesite, my pastor made a comment that, for some reason, struck me. I'm sure I've heard it eluded to before, but hearing it yesterday was kind of different. Mama Jo and Papa used to be on the go all the time, and enjoyed camping and fishing, going to the moutains and the beach, and going to Gatlinburg. Brother Gordon was talking about how the family used to travel together and go to many places. It was this (probably paraphrased) quote that got to me: "But this is as far as you can go with her, on this earth". I wonder why that struck me so? I guess it is just the thought that the grave really IS as far as we go with our loved ones, until we see them on the other side. I know she is happy in her new home, rejoicing over being reunited with Papa, Samantha, Joshua, and other loved ones. We went as far as we could go with her, but the final journey was made without us.

I learned a few funny stories about Mama Jo through all this, and reminisced about others. It seems that she decided to join the military, because a good friend of hers had signed up. However, Mama Jo was under age. She swiped her sister Essie's birth certificate so she could qualify. After about a year, her friend had to leave for some reason, and Mama Jo decided she didn't want to stay either. The only way she could get out was by telling them what she had done... and to her delight... they sent her home straightaway!

Delores was a young thing when she got married, a few days shy of being "legal". In the olden days, you could post your intent to marry and if nobody objected, you could get married. So marry she did, to a fine, upstanding young man, and off they went for their honeymoon in Gatlinburg. What they didn't know was that Mama Jo, Papa, and DJ took off for Gatlinburg after them. I just learned that story this week, and think it's just the funniest thing. What would she have done if she had found them? I would venture to say that Donald has earned himself some treasures in heaven for sure. To have a mother-in-law like Mama Jo, and to live right next door, required the patience of Job, at times, I'm sure. (Said with love, ya'll!) It still just tickles me to think of them traipsing across the mountains, looking for the newlyweds. Ha! Papa saying "Now... Josie!!!" every few miles....

When we were teenagers, DJ would sometimes take different friends camping up to Tugaloo State Park. Now when you're a teenage girl, there are fewer things more important than scoping out the teenage boys when you enter new territory. The park was no exception. We didn't go in for our fellow-campers, the sons of neighboring campsites. Oh no. We aimed for the big time. We loved us some trash pickup boys. Ummm Hmmm. One hot summer weekend, we happened to meet up with two fine young specimens. One named Luke, and.... well.. the other name escapes me now, but... we were mighty excited when they paid us some attention. We went out boating, skiing and swimming that afternoon, and had a *date* planned for later that evening. After dinner DJ and I went up to the bath house, with all our girly stuff in tow, and we must have spent hours getting all gussied up for our date. I had some special smell-good stuff that I used only for special occasions, and this date sure seemed to merit a spritz or two. Finally satisfied with our supreme gorgeousness, we skipped back down to the campsite to find Papa just smiling that quiet smile of his, then choking on a chuckle, eyes all a-twinkle, he busted out laughing and said "Them boys waited around long enough for ya'll and then took off." Our enchanted evning was ruined. We were devastated. We moped around for hours, straining our ears, hoping to hear their car coming down the road. Mama Jo just shook her head and said "Awwww Debbie! Them boys don't care nothin' about ya'll!" We secretly decided that Papa probably scared them off. I mean.... what's not to like about DJ and me, huh???

Another time, when we were seniors in high school, I had this boyfriend that my parents decided was no good for me. And in retrospect, they were probably right, but I wasn't convinced at the time. As such, I snuck around a bit and dated him anyway. Friday nights usually found me at DJs house, or her at mine, or BJs, or any varied combination thereof. This particular Friday night, I was at DJs, and we had dates for the evening. Mama Jo and Papa had gone camping. Uh oh. Rule #1 No Boys Allowed Without Parents At Home. And my particular boy was the one my mama and daddy had forbidden me to see. Here we have a disaster waiting to happen. Feeling very grown up after our dinner, we were sitting on the front porch at Mama Jo's, when lo and behold... from afar we beheld... CAMPERS!!! The parental units were coming home!! In plain view of the road, there was nowhere to hide, nothing to do but own up to our crime. So horrified was I that Mama Jo would tell MY mama that she had not only caught me with *the boy*, but that we had snuck and had dates without chaperones, I sold my soul and forever indebted myself to her if she PLEASE just wouldn't tell. In hindsite, I suspect she never intended to tell on me at all, but rather enjoyed the fear instilled in me at the thought of such a travesty. About this time, a certain hole had been dug in the back yard. A hole that would one day soon transform into a swimming pool... of which I expected to become a frequent guest. In my haste to secure that Mama Jo wasn't going to rat on me, I promised with all my heart to work on the landscaping project. I toted and hauled rocks for days. And days. I probably fetched more glasses of tea and "Anything you need, Mama Jo?" for weeks. I'm sure the joke was probably on me. I can just hear her and Papa laughing about it. When we visited her a few weeks ago at Emory, I reminded her of that little incident, and how she "blackmailed" me so she would keep quiet. I wish I could have heard her laugh about it just one more time.

Joyce Baker helped to take care of her when she was a resident at Mulberry, and has been very sweet to check on her and pray for her these weeks since she had to leave the facility. Yesterday she posted this photo of Mama Jo taken while she was a resident there. Thanks, Joyce.

Mama Jo, we'll miss you! We'll see you soon! Thanks for some really happy memories!

Question of the day: Is the reaction of American citizens (in the form of town-hall protests) making a difference in President Obama's push for public-option healthcare? Perhaps so, as major networks are reporting today that the Obama administration is backing down. At one time, it was a public-option-or-nothing deal. Now that the outcry has resounded out the windows of the meeting places, and into our living rooms, perhaps it has reinforced other citizens to take up the battle cry and go to their local meetings, and have their voices heard. (My own local representative has CANCELED the remainder of his town hall meetings!! We can "call and talk with him on the phone." What???) Interestingly, though, it seems that, according to Sen. Conrad of North Dakota, that there weren't enough affirmative votes to pass the bill in the first place. Now that this news has come out, there are those saying that Mr. Obama knew it would never pass, and his administration was merely using it as a bargaining chip. Now they are saying that the public-option element is not crucial and not the backbone of reform. (And they called McCain wishy-washy????) I'm quite surprised that Howard Dean, a former practicing physician, has said "A public option is the only way to guarantee health care for all Americans and its inclusion is non-negotiable." Must be quite a while since he has tried to practice medicine in this country.

I'd like to think that the outcry of Americans who opposed it had a little something to do with the backing-down factor. Perhaps without the "terrorist, Nazi, mob" protests, this bill, like many others contributing to the detriment of our nation, would have been pushed through. Finally. It's about time folks started standing up to what they believe in, and not sit back and get steamrolled into something and THEN complain about it, which is what we've been doing for far too many years.

And just a reminder: I am not opposed to healthcare reform. I have been saying for years that something needs to be done about the black hole we are in. The focus needs to be on insurance companies, tort reform, and letting physicians get back to the basics of practicing medicine. Our schools are tax-payer supported (government-run). There's a good place to start. Serve healthier lunches at school, teach children the importance of taking care of themselves and making healthy food choices and exercise. For adults, offer educational classes at the local health department level, at government-subsidized hospitals to teach diabetics and hypertensive patients how to maintain their health. I took diabetic education classes myself, and the fee was astronomical. People without insurance can't afford that. There are many different ways to improve the situation. Focus on primary care. Maybe even consider having an internship in a public health setting in exchange for some student loan forgiveness for medical school debt. If every graduate coming out of medical school participated in a year-long internship at the local health department level, then (free, or sliding-scale) primary care could be expanded to include everyone who shows up at the doorstep, thereby eliminating the need for ER visits for non-emergency care. With all the ruckus going on, it has made me stop and consider my own health, and my own terrible habits. No matter what the outcome, whether (God forbid!) we go to a government-run health system, or continue down the black hole we're in currently, we all need to wake up and realize that our basic health is better controlled in our own hands than those of Uncle Sam, or the insurance companies who dictate how physicians practice medicine. One way to reduce medical costs nationwide would be for each of us to become proactive in our own behalf. Eat less junk (me, me, me...) and more fruits and veggies. Get up and move. Get more sleep. Learn to deal with stress. Keep a clean conscience. Practice random acts of kindness. Pay it forward. Learn to forgive those who hurt us. And that "do unto others" thing... give it a try. If we lived in such a manner, and treated our bodies and our minds with respect, a lot of the medical issues that plague us would resolve themselves. We don't need government-run healthcare. We don't need insurance-run healthcare (which is what we have now). Maybe someone, somewhere, will get it right. In the meantime, keep speaking up, America!

Note to self: Take your own advice!

Obamacare

If we could all agree that nobody truly understands Obamacare, we could at least begin the process on common ground. I’m glad to see American citizens speaking up, and letting their voices be heard. It does concern me, however, that the opposers at town hall meetings are being portrayed in the media as hot-headed, ignorant rednecks. There are some pretty nasty rumors about Obamacare that even I, with all my Obabamacare opposition, have a difficult time believing. As the father of young children, I find it hard to believe that his plan would put a lesser value on children. Having just lost a grandmother, I can’t believe he will put old folks out to pasture. Now… that’s not to say that I don’t believe quality of care will take a nosedive, but I believe it will be for every person. Maybe a little worse for the elderly, but probably not so much for children. The point I am pondering is this: I wonder how many of these rumors are actually being generated by the Obama folks, in order to work the opposers into a frenzy? Think about it. His calm, smug demeanor is far more attractive and soothing than the shouting, shoving, sometimes obscenity-laden protests from the opposition. Brings out the shine on his halo.
I’ve worked in healthcare for 33 years, in many capacities, and the changes I have seen are incredible. Absolutely, reform is needed. Even physicians agree!! The cost of medical care is exorbitant, and something needs to be done, I don’t argue that point. However, there are a lot of hidden costs that the patient doesn’t see. When we are admitted to a hospital room for an overnight stay, the price of that room is all encompassing, paying for a myriad of things that we would never imagine. The room fee pays my salary, and the salary of my co-workers in transcription and Medical Records. It pays the janitors, the cooks, the nurses, the radiology techs, the maintenance guys, all of the administrative offices, insurance clerks, coders, the electric bill, the phone bill, gas and water bill, laundry bill so we can have clean sheets… and the list goes on. Same concept as a hotel bill, except there are more folks to pay. That $13.00 Tylenol we took pays for the pharmacists, the pharmacy techs, the nurse who gives it to us, the Dixie cup that holds our water. When our doctor bill arrives, we may say that he only popped into the room for five minutes. What we don’t see is the time it takes him to write up admission orders, make sure the mandated information is in the chart for every order, and all the required dictation is done. The chart may lie unfinished in Medical Records for a week or two, requiring multiple visits by the doctor, or multiple access to the file via computer from his office, to make sure all the necessary forms are completed and signed.
The same thing holds true when we go to the doctor’s office. Absolutely, the bill is far more than it should be. My last job afforded me a different point of view, though, in that I was the accounts payable person. My goodness. I never knew that running a medical office was so expensive. The cost for durable medical equipment, disposable medical supplies, utilities, salaries, general operating expenses, health insurance for employees (huge!) and then the big daddy… the malpractice insurance. Heavenly days! Yes, doctors make a lot of money. As well they should. When we or someone we love is injured or ill, we want the doctor to do whatever necessary to save them or make them well. They become God, sometimes. When the crisis is over, we get a letter from our insurance company saying “Sorry, we’re only paying X amount, because your doctor charges too much.” So, instead of becoming upset with the insurance company, we get upset with the doctor and complain that he charges too much. There’s something wrong with this picture! When an insurance company pays $1200.00 for an $8,000.00 procedure, that’s pretty shameful. Is $8,000.00 too much for the procedure? Yes, probably so. Back in the day when insurance payments were more proportionate to physician charges, that procedure might have been billed at $2,500.00. It is sad that many physicians and surgeons have to spend a portion of their work day writing letters and making phone calls to get permission to perform tests and/or procedures, and appealing payment amounts. Yet if the physician doesn’t order the round of tests, some attorney is out there foaming at the mouth, encouraging you to file suit against the physician. So the physician has to pay thousands and thousands of dollars for malpractice insurance. I could write for days and days about this issue alone, but suffice it to say… healthcare is one big, black, deep, dark hole, made worse every year by the constant threat of malpractice and litigation, by the insurance companies setting the acceptable ‘usual, reasonable and customary’ fees for services, and by the huge losses incurred by emergency rooms for primary care. Which brings us back to the reality that Americans need access to primary care. Just think about how many ER visits could be avoided, how many patients could avoid dialysis if their BP and diabetes were kept under control, how many hospitalizations for chronic illnesses could be avoided, if everyone had access to primary care.
I’ve tried to look at it from the other side. From the side of those people who don’t have insurance. A poster on the scrapbook board made the comment that many of us are all just one layoff away from being uninsured. Last year she would have been one of the Obamacare opposers, but because her husband lost his job, they now have no insurance, and have several small children. She is afraid of Obamacare, but she is more afraid to be without insurance. I can totally see that. It seems that most of those who oppose it currently have coverage, and most of those who support it do not have coverage. I don’t blame those without insurance for supporting Obamacare, they are being fed a line of bull and are being made to believe that his plan will take care of them. Granted, they may have access to healthcare that they don’t have now, but I absolutely believe that it is not what they are being promised. Don’t get me wrong, I am a TOTAL advocate for healthcare for everyone, but I am opposed to a single-payer system run by the government. There has to be another way.
I don’t know the answer. I wish I did. The whole thing is, I don’t think anybody knows the answer. Mr. Obama just wants us to think he knows (when he hasn’t even read the 1000 page bill his ownself). I believe what we need to focus on right this minute is making sure our representatives SLOW DOWN the process and not be bullied into a vote on this for yet a long while. Acting in haste will only result in the nightmare we all fear, I’m afraid.

Euna Lee and Laura Ling

Welcome home, ladies. I'm glad this incident turned out well. I'm glad that little girl will be tucked in by her mommy tonight. I love a good reunion, and this one was very sweet.

This whole incident causes me to stop and wonder about border integrity. How is it, that in countries like North Korea and Iran, that a few hikers or a couple of reporters can accidentally cross the border and be snatched into captivity? If the borders were clearly marked, then it wouldn't have been accidental, and I seriously doubt they would have made that mistake. I haven't been keeping up with these stories very well, but if they claim it was a case accidental "tresspassing", then obviously there were no border guards, no electric fences, no watch dogs, etc. So how is it that these countries can keep such a close watch on their borders and actually imprison violators, yet the United States can't effectively monitor our southern border? It's not a random accidental few people who cross into our country, but rather a flood of dam-break proportions of our southern neighbors who absolutely infiltrate our border. Granted, if we were to sentence each perpetrator to a prison sentence of 12 years (as in the case of Lee and Ling), then there wouldn't be enough space in all the college dorms in America to house them all. Oh, and then there's the issue that even if we did imprison them, no one from Mexico would come and get them, much less send a plane full of dignitaries to negotiate their release. All that being said, I think the USA needs to get hold of whatever technology it is that allows these jungle and desert-laden nations to so carefully watch their borders. We need some of that, and we need to use it. Not for the purpose of imprisoning them. No. We don't want them. We need to use it for the purpose of throwing them back. Or at least directing them to the nearest legal border crossing, where they can enter the country legally, with a one-way ticket to the nearest immigration office to apply for citizenship. Or a one-way ticket back home, whichever they prefer. That's all I've got to say about that.

Just For Fun

No time for a lengthy post today, so I'm going to share a video sent to me from my friend Mac. It's pretty neat. Just for fun.

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Ennio Marchetto is a world renowned and awarded comedian who has created his own theatrical language mixing mime, dance, music and quick change costumes made out of card-board and paper. In 18 years Ennio has performed in over 70 countries for more than a million people. His show has received numerous awards and international critical acclaim. .....He is from Italy. He does impressions of stars and singers using these paper costumes that transform from one person into another. He is a barrel of fun to watch!!

Click here to watch (about 6 minutes)

The Weekend

Busy weekend at The 409. We did score some bargains for Mary for school, but nothing like we did last year. Yesterday we partied with Peyton to celebrate her 3rd birthday. It was lots of fun, and Peyton was really cute. I always love being with the Bennett family. The children were tuckered out and went to bed fairly early, with fairly good cooperation. Whitney and I had steak and veggie kabobs on the grill for dinner. .....Sigh..... I don't know why I even bother to try. The meat was too brown for my liking. I should have known better. There's only one person, in my opinion, who can cook a perfect piece of meat, and that's David. One of these days I'll learn to save a poor slab of meat an unhappy ending, and stop buying it. Oh well. The salad, 'taters and grilled veggies were good. There are plenty of leftovers too. The house is a mess, as we've been trying to organize, separate and purge clothing for all three children. The drawers to Leyland's dresser are stacked in my room, partially child-proofed with those drawer-latch thingies. We have a little more work to do with that project. Leyland loves to play 'dress-up' in her own clothes, and no matter how neatly you fold them and put them away, she will open the drawers and strew them about her room. Thus the drawer-latch project. Thus the reason the clothes are also stacked in my room. With the drawers. The ironing board is still standing from the mad dash this morning to get the girls' dresses pressed before church. There's a giant empty box on my (unmade!) bed, waiting to be put in the attic. I do so dislike trying to work amid such untidy chaos, but there's nothing I can do about it right now. Hopefully Whitney can get everyone down for a nap and come in here and work on the clothes-sorting-purging project while I am working.

Children sure do say the funniest things, don't they? On the way to church this morning, Mary was holding my Bible. She said, "Grandma, what's with all these yellow marks in your Bible?" I exaplained to her that those were my favorite parts... the verses that I like very much. She thought for a minute and said.... "Wow. There's sure a lot of it that you DON'T like, isn't there!!" Such a funny little girl, that Mary.

Now it's off to get my work-week started. Be careful driving next week! School is starting in many counties this week!!