I have been contemplating for a while whether or not to continue this blog. It isn't that I don't enjoy writing it. I certainly have. I'm just not sure that it is productive. I'm fairly certain the words I write aren't changing any ones opinion regarding the topics covered. Anyway onto the purpose for this post.
I read the following phrase on a blog I follow:
"I feel that people should be able to do what they want UNLESS it is totally distasteful, insensitive or just plain stupid."
This is not a person who lacks the mental capacity to have an intelligent conversation. To the contrary I have found her posts to be well thought and well written, even if I rarely agree.
This quote on the the other hand shows a rather telling lack of foresight. The problems with this line of thought are obvious, and I don't feel the need to explain them. If I do have to explain you won't understand anyway.
Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Assault on Capitalism
To say that there is an assault on capitalism in this country is an understatement. From the bailouts of wall street and motor companies to the calls for the Venezuela style take over of BP the assault is obvious. I have only two quick thoughts I'd like to share.
1. We don't currently have a capitalist system. The government is intertwined in both banking the motor companies, oil, just about every sector of the economy we see struggling is already highly regulated by our government. The arguments that it was capitalism that led to the economic troubles we see is a fallacy.
2. (And this was the real point of this post) Nearly every day I hear people whining and complaining about how much money the gas stations make on a gallon of gas. I hear people complaining about the cost of health care, insurance... etc.
The same question always remains. If you really believe they have such a high profit margin, then why haven't you opened your own business. You could undercut their price and make money hand over fist. You don't even have to become a doctor. Just open a clinic, hire some docs, charge a lower rate and watch the people flock in your doors. They will be glad you are charging less, and you can swim in all your profits like scrooge mcduck. But you don't. I wonder why. Either you are not willing to take the risk, or you don't really believe what you are claiming.
There is also another option. It is possible that you don't believe there should be a profit allowed. That clinics and doctors should be run as non-profits. In which case you are a hypocrite.
I think your industry should be non-profit.
1. We don't currently have a capitalist system. The government is intertwined in both banking the motor companies, oil, just about every sector of the economy we see struggling is already highly regulated by our government. The arguments that it was capitalism that led to the economic troubles we see is a fallacy.
2. (And this was the real point of this post) Nearly every day I hear people whining and complaining about how much money the gas stations make on a gallon of gas. I hear people complaining about the cost of health care, insurance... etc.
The same question always remains. If you really believe they have such a high profit margin, then why haven't you opened your own business. You could undercut their price and make money hand over fist. You don't even have to become a doctor. Just open a clinic, hire some docs, charge a lower rate and watch the people flock in your doors. They will be glad you are charging less, and you can swim in all your profits like scrooge mcduck. But you don't. I wonder why. Either you are not willing to take the risk, or you don't really believe what you are claiming.
There is also another option. It is possible that you don't believe there should be a profit allowed. That clinics and doctors should be run as non-profits. In which case you are a hypocrite.
I think your industry should be non-profit.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Arizona Law - Constitutional?
Before we get into this immigration law I'd like to take a moment and give my personal thoughts on immigration. My solution to the Hispanic illegal alien problem is very simple. Armed troops with authority to shoot anyone crossing the border at any place other than an authorized check station. We do this in other police actions to control movement half way around the world. Surely our own borders should be no less a priority. This would be very effective. You only have to step over a few dead bodies before you reconsider your method of entering this country.
Second, we need to make it MUCH easier for immigrants to enter this country to work as productive members of society. I am not against immigration. It is what makes this country strong. I am against illegal aliens crossing our border damaging our social services and creating a drain on our nation.
Now to the Arizona law.
I have two issues with this law that I believe violate your constitutional rights.
1. The law allows police officers to stop and question anyone they "have reason to believe" may be in the country illegally. What could this possibly mean in Arizona other than a hostile environment for anyone of Hispanic dissent. It is very plausible that a single individual driving to work could be stopped multiple times for simple having brown skin. This is the Hispanic version of "driving while black". This is not acceptable.
2. This law requires all individuals to carry on their person documentation showing their immigration status. This could mean a green card for an immigrant, or a social security card or birth certificate for a citizen. The problem with this is that it places the burden of proof on the accused. Rather than the principle accepted by the Supreme Court since the very inception of our country as a the standard of guilt.
This second point brings to mind the gestapo asking you for your papers. You have a right in this country under the 4th amendment to a reasonable degree of privacy and security in your person. In my opinion this law is a clear violation.
Some have criticized my opinion as hypocritical as I want to shoot people crossing the boarder with out due process. Depriving them of their life without a trial constituting a violation of their 5th amendment. To these people I retort that those crossing the border are not citizens of the United States, and therefore not protected by the bill of rights. However I will concede that it may be best to claim a few hundred feet this side of the border as military base property, thereby making a trespass an invasion.
Second, we need to make it MUCH easier for immigrants to enter this country to work as productive members of society. I am not against immigration. It is what makes this country strong. I am against illegal aliens crossing our border damaging our social services and creating a drain on our nation.
Now to the Arizona law.
I have two issues with this law that I believe violate your constitutional rights.
1. The law allows police officers to stop and question anyone they "have reason to believe" may be in the country illegally. What could this possibly mean in Arizona other than a hostile environment for anyone of Hispanic dissent. It is very plausible that a single individual driving to work could be stopped multiple times for simple having brown skin. This is the Hispanic version of "driving while black". This is not acceptable.
2. This law requires all individuals to carry on their person documentation showing their immigration status. This could mean a green card for an immigrant, or a social security card or birth certificate for a citizen. The problem with this is that it places the burden of proof on the accused. Rather than the principle accepted by the Supreme Court since the very inception of our country as a the standard of guilt.
This second point brings to mind the gestapo asking you for your papers. You have a right in this country under the 4th amendment to a reasonable degree of privacy and security in your person. In my opinion this law is a clear violation.
Some have criticized my opinion as hypocritical as I want to shoot people crossing the boarder with out due process. Depriving them of their life without a trial constituting a violation of their 5th amendment. To these people I retort that those crossing the border are not citizens of the United States, and therefore not protected by the bill of rights. However I will concede that it may be best to claim a few hundred feet this side of the border as military base property, thereby making a trespass an invasion.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Selling My Home in the New Government Era
About a month and a half ago my wife and I listed our home with a real estate agent. We have been renting for the last few years as we waited for the market to improve. In the mean time we had renters in our home to assist us pay the mortgage. We signed the papers with our realtor on a Friday morning. Friday afternoon she placed the sign in our yard. The house was shown Saturday morning, and that afternoon we had an offer in front of us. Wow, we were happy. While it wasn't quite full asking price, it was close.
{cue the "Imperial March" music}
Enter the government. The buyer of our home is doing so through a government guaranteed loan, so of course there will be an inspection to ensure the house meets minimum requirements. The inspector asked that we:
Replace a few shingles - No problem. I have extras.
Repair flashing around Chimney - Not a big deal.
Update outlets - Sigh. Okay.
Repair cracked window in basement. Fine.
Enter bank appraiser who asks for a vapor barrier under the addition. (This is a 10'x8' room. - Why do they care. It was fine when we bought it 5 years ago.
Enter City inspector who demands we:
Replace all smoke detectors. - Why? They still work! The city just wants new ones.
Replace 60amp electrical box with 120amp. - At this point I'm pulling my hair out. The city is requiring more than even the federal government. Oh by the way, if you don't make all repairs they will not allow the transfer of the deed. UNDER WHAT AUTHORITY?
Of course you have to use their "approved" electricians. (There are only two.) You can't do the work on your own. How can this be constitutional?
It is no wonder the housing market is hurting. The government forces so many regulations that it eats up all your equity, if you are lucky enough to have some.
{cue the "Imperial March" music}
Enter the government. The buyer of our home is doing so through a government guaranteed loan, so of course there will be an inspection to ensure the house meets minimum requirements. The inspector asked that we:
Replace a few shingles - No problem. I have extras.
Repair flashing around Chimney - Not a big deal.
Update outlets - Sigh. Okay.
Repair cracked window in basement. Fine.
Enter bank appraiser who asks for a vapor barrier under the addition. (This is a 10'x8' room. - Why do they care. It was fine when we bought it 5 years ago.
Enter City inspector who demands we:
Replace all smoke detectors. - Why? They still work! The city just wants new ones.
Replace 60amp electrical box with 120amp. - At this point I'm pulling my hair out. The city is requiring more than even the federal government. Oh by the way, if you don't make all repairs they will not allow the transfer of the deed. UNDER WHAT AUTHORITY?
Of course you have to use their "approved" electricians. (There are only two.) You can't do the work on your own. How can this be constitutional?
It is no wonder the housing market is hurting. The government forces so many regulations that it eats up all your equity, if you are lucky enough to have some.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Thoughts on Forgiveness
All of us have some things in our life for which we needed to ask forgiveness. We have hurt our friends, family, co-workers, etc... However, in the same vein we have all been harmed at one time or another and to one degree or another. While the extent of our harm varies we all share in that we are not perfect. We have both harmed, and been harmed. Hence the need for forgiveness.
It occurs to me that forgiveness is not for the person who has done the trespass. Forgiveness is for the person who has been harmed. Follow me for a moment here.
Have you ever been angry with someone for something they did to you? Did they know you were mad at them? If so, did they care? If they cared about your relationship perhaps they did, but what if they didn't. You could be angry and they would never know. You would sit up at night and they would sleep. You could let the harm shape the rest of your life, ruining relationships. You could even hate them. It won't matter. They'll sleep like a baby.
The only exception I see to this is when a person feeling guilt requests forgiveness. In that case however, the person asking for forgiveness often feels as thought they have harmed themselves while harming you. In the end whether you forgive them they must forgive themselves.
Do yourself a favor. Forgive the person who has hurt you the most because they aren't even thinking about you. Forgive yourself too. You deserve it.
It occurs to me that forgiveness is not for the person who has done the trespass. Forgiveness is for the person who has been harmed. Follow me for a moment here.
Have you ever been angry with someone for something they did to you? Did they know you were mad at them? If so, did they care? If they cared about your relationship perhaps they did, but what if they didn't. You could be angry and they would never know. You would sit up at night and they would sleep. You could let the harm shape the rest of your life, ruining relationships. You could even hate them. It won't matter. They'll sleep like a baby.
The only exception I see to this is when a person feeling guilt requests forgiveness. In that case however, the person asking for forgiveness often feels as thought they have harmed themselves while harming you. In the end whether you forgive them they must forgive themselves.
Do yourself a favor. Forgive the person who has hurt you the most because they aren't even thinking about you. Forgive yourself too. You deserve it.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Another Pregnant Man
The headline to the story reads "Another Pregnant Man". I remember when the first of these stories came out a while back, and my reaction is the same the second time around. THIS IS NOT A MAN.
For some reason the media promotes this as though it were a man who by some freak of nature was able to conceive a child and carry it to term I don't know somewhere in his urethra. That is obviously not the case here. Just like the first time around we have a woman who has been changed surgically to look like a man. Fine. I don't care what you want to do to your own body. If you want to add a third eyeball because you feel that you were supposed to be born a tri-clops, whatever, that is your business. But please then don't act as though you are doing something special.
You may look like a man, but so what, all your parts are still woman on the inside. I mean for goodness sake the lunch lady at the high school has a moustache and is well on the way to a beard. That doesn't make her a man either. For the record, no man has EVER given birth to a child, and they never will.
To add to the odd factor here, the partner is also a woman. So, we have two women who are both surgically altered to appear like men. They then couple up and date another woman who looks like a man.
For the sake of this child I really pray these parents can provide some sort of positive identity to this life they have created. This baby will have two mothers pretending to be fathers, and no one to actually be a mother or is that father. You see the dilemma.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Where does the meaning reside?
Is meaning in words, or people? This is a discussion my wife and I have repeated time and time again beginning shortly after we began dating. At the time she was in her second year of her undergraduate degree in communications. She was taking a class on interpersonal communications, and loving every minute of it. Today we find ourselves discussing it again as she prepares to begin teaching the very class next Tuesday.
One of the class discussions was whether words have meaning. The class teaches that they do not. According to the text words are simply tools which we use to communicate meaning to another individual using our background, history, education, etc. They will then use their background, history, education and so forth to interpret meaning. You can imagine the game of telephone where the meaning of what we say is open for interpretation.
I respectfully disagree. I believe words do in fact have meaning. We have a book dedicated to just that, a dictionary. It lines out in very unambiguous terms the meaning of each word. Should I choose a word incorrectly, or you interpret the word to mean something it does not. Then there is a failure in knowledge, and the words was used/interpreted incorrectly.
On the other hand we can all think of words that have come to mean other things through out the years; cool, hip, rad, groovy, mouse. I'm sure you can come up with many more. What do you think? Does the meaning reside in the words, or in people.
One of the class discussions was whether words have meaning. The class teaches that they do not. According to the text words are simply tools which we use to communicate meaning to another individual using our background, history, education, etc. They will then use their background, history, education and so forth to interpret meaning. You can imagine the game of telephone where the meaning of what we say is open for interpretation.
I respectfully disagree. I believe words do in fact have meaning. We have a book dedicated to just that, a dictionary. It lines out in very unambiguous terms the meaning of each word. Should I choose a word incorrectly, or you interpret the word to mean something it does not. Then there is a failure in knowledge, and the words was used/interpreted incorrectly.
On the other hand we can all think of words that have come to mean other things through out the years; cool, hip, rad, groovy, mouse. I'm sure you can come up with many more. What do you think? Does the meaning reside in the words, or in people.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
American Community Survey
I received my survey in the mail a few days ago and have been mulling it over ever since. At this point I am leaning towards not filling it out. The questionnaire comes with a little pamphlet that portends to tell you why it is so important that you don't simply throw it in the trash. For instance it is used to determine your representation in the House of Representatives and is used for State redistricting purposes. This by the way is the only use outlined by law. It then goes on to say that it is used for the purposes of deciding where new schools and hospitals will be built. No it doesn't. First of all schools are decided on by the local school boards and hospitals are built by private entities. Unless of course our government is planning to take over both sectors of our workforce.
All that is fine and dandy, but all they really need to know is number of people in the house. Perhaps the sex of those living in the house and the ages. That is all, perhaps it would be good to know ethnicity, but I don't see the need.
Question to which I take exception:
House Hold Info:
#1 First and Last Name
Housing:
#1 What best describes this building? (mobile home, single family, apartment, etc)
#2 When was it built?
#3 When did you move in?
#4 How many acres?
#5 What were last year's agricultural sales from the land?
#6 How many rooms?
#8 Is there; hot water, flush toilet, tub or shower, stove, refrigerator, telephone?
#9 How many vehicles are kept at this home?
#10 What fuel do you use for heating?
#11 What is your electric/gas/water/other heating bills?
#12 Did anyone in your house receive food assistance last year?
#13 How much is your condominium fee?
#14 Do you own your home?
#15 How much is your rent?
#16 What is your dwelling worth?
#17 What are your property taxes?
#18 How much is your home owners insurance?
#19 Do you have a mortgage?
#20 Do you have a second mortgage?
PERSON 1:
#7 Where were you born?
#8 Are you a citizen?
#10 Have you attended school or college in the past 3 months?
#11 Education level?
#14 Does this person speak a language other than English?
#15 Previous address?
#16 Does this person have health insurance?
#17 Difficulty hearing or seeing?
#18 Have any physical, emotional, or mental conditions?
#19 Marital status?
#29 Last week did this person work for pay at a job?
#30 Where?
#31 How does this person get to work?
#32 How many people ride to work in the same vehicle?
#33 What time did this person leave for work?
#34 How long does it take to get there?
#41 What type of business did this person work in? (private, non-profit, Gov't, self)
#46 What were this persons duties at work?
#47 What was your income last year?
These are certainly not all the questions that are no business of the government, only the most egregious. A single individual would answer 72 very personal questions if they filled out this questionnaire. Am I the only whack job that has a problem with this? These questions do not serve the purpose of the census as described in the constitution.
Article 1; Section 2; Clause three of the constitution outlines that the census be taken every ten years for the purpose of determining the number of people living in each state. Here is the text if you wish to read it.
All that is fine and dandy, but all they really need to know is number of people in the house. Perhaps the sex of those living in the house and the ages. That is all, perhaps it would be good to know ethnicity, but I don't see the need.
Question to which I take exception:
House Hold Info:
#1 First and Last Name
Housing:
#1 What best describes this building? (mobile home, single family, apartment, etc)
#2 When was it built?
#3 When did you move in?
#4 How many acres?
#5 What were last year's agricultural sales from the land?
#6 How many rooms?
#8 Is there; hot water, flush toilet, tub or shower, stove, refrigerator, telephone?
#9 How many vehicles are kept at this home?
#10 What fuel do you use for heating?
#11 What is your electric/gas/water/other heating bills?
#12 Did anyone in your house receive food assistance last year?
#13 How much is your condominium fee?
#14 Do you own your home?
#15 How much is your rent?
#16 What is your dwelling worth?
#17 What are your property taxes?
#18 How much is your home owners insurance?
#19 Do you have a mortgage?
#20 Do you have a second mortgage?
PERSON 1:
#7 Where were you born?
#8 Are you a citizen?
#10 Have you attended school or college in the past 3 months?
#11 Education level?
#14 Does this person speak a language other than English?
#15 Previous address?
#16 Does this person have health insurance?
#17 Difficulty hearing or seeing?
#18 Have any physical, emotional, or mental conditions?
#19 Marital status?
#29 Last week did this person work for pay at a job?
#30 Where?
#31 How does this person get to work?
#32 How many people ride to work in the same vehicle?
#33 What time did this person leave for work?
#34 How long does it take to get there?
#41 What type of business did this person work in? (private, non-profit, Gov't, self)
#46 What were this persons duties at work?
#47 What was your income last year?
These are certainly not all the questions that are no business of the government, only the most egregious. A single individual would answer 72 very personal questions if they filled out this questionnaire. Am I the only whack job that has a problem with this? These questions do not serve the purpose of the census as described in the constitution.
Article 1; Section 2; Clause three of the constitution outlines that the census be taken every ten years for the purpose of determining the number of people living in each state. Here is the text if you wish to read it.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Creative Writing Assignment
The object of this exercise is to create a short story from a multitude of authors in a semi-fractured style. Write as much or as little as you like to take the original storyline and add your own take on the next events. Copy and Paste the previous chapters and then add your own. Label your chapter number and your name/moniker at the top and then tag 2 people to pass it on to, for them to continue the story and see how it can develop through those different paths. Do NOT tag it back to any previous author of your story’s chapters.
—————————————–
Chapter 1- by Mookie
It is summertime in the middle of the day. Moms and dads are at work, so my friend Jay and I, having nothing better to do, go down into the ravine behind my house. We have decided that today we will build a small fort and a campsite we can call our own. This small stretch of creeks running through the woods in the dead center of our town forms our own wilderness frontier.
We set to the task of grabbing fallen branches and sticks to create the walls of our fort at the base of a hill. While Jay begins construction on these walls, I move to my own litle task of creating a dam in the creek that runs through this section of the woods. An older creekbed that is usually dry, except for when the rain comes, has a variety of large rocks and broken concrete. These will be the materials for damming the creek up and creating a small ponding next to our campsite. Back and forth I lug rock after rock and concrete chunks as well. Once I feel I have a sufficient amount of rocks and concrete, I begin to set them into the small and shallow running stream. Soon the water level begins to rise and expand outward away from the bank, as I choke off the streams natural flow. As with any 10 year old, seeing the fruits of my labors, even in the early stages, makes me feel like a god in my own small world. By late afternoon we expect to have a sheltered fort, a bridge over the creek, a pooling of water to soak our feet in, or to use to put out the campfires we set from time to time when our parents don’t realize we’ve stolen a box of matches or a lighter. We even have a designated circle of rocks for our campfire along with some wood, twigs and dead leaves to fuel the fire.
While pushing through some high brush in search for more wood, we spook a doe. She runs off, along the creek, and with a graceful leap she jups down into a culvert pit, ad into the dark tunnel that goes underneath a neighboring road that runs along the top of the east end of the ravine. We followed her to see just where she went. But when we got to the tunnel, we were spooked. Rumors of the tunnel being the spot for Satan Worshippers abound through our heads. This was the one place we had never dared to venture into. Graffiti was scrawled all around the tunnels entrance on the concrete exterior. Older kids had scared us with stories of animal sacrifices, complete with evidence of blood soaked walls that lay within the interior of the tunnel. We look down to one corner and see some scattered small bones, which only further reinforced the validity of these rumors. Then suddenly out of nowhere the doe came running back out the tunnel toward us, veering away as she moved past us, a wild look in her eyes. what had caused her to be so scared and willing to run back in our direction? We had neither heard nor seen anything that might represent danger. The adventure in our little stretch of frontier wilderness was only beginning…
—————————————–
Chapter 2 by Renaissance Guy
“Do you want to go in?” asked Jay with a quiver in his voice.
“Maybe. If you do,” I answered.
“My cousin knew somebody who went in there. He was never heard from again.”
“That’s baloney!” I replied. “It’s just a dumb, ol’ cave.”
“Then you go in first,” Jay suggested.
What to do? Now that I had minimalized the dangers of the cave, I couldn’t show any fear. I’d look like a chicken for sure. Then it dawned on me. “It’s dark in there. We’ll need flashlights. Let’s come back another time with flashlights, so that we can see inside it.”
How could I have known that Jay had come prepared? Out of his pocket he produced not one, but two, flashlights. “Here you go,” he said. “Lead the way.”
I turned on the flashlight and pointed it into the cave. I swirled it around a bit to see if anything hideous was visible. Nothing at all but bare rock walls. Visions of human skeletons and bloody knives zoomed through my mind. I knew that I had to stop thinking and just move forward.
With Jay close at my heels I inched my way in. Drat! Not too far in there was a bend. It was impossible to see around it. My mind went frantic again: Perhaps this is the chamber of death. Perhaps I’ve seen Mom and Dad for the last time. “Hey, Jay,” I said, “I think that I should be heading home. My parents will wonder where I am if I stay gone too long.”
Jay didn’t answer. I turned around and shrieked–almost like a girl. Where was he?
---------------------------
Chapter 3 by Jay Burns
The sound emitting from mouth didn't sound like my own as it echoed through the tunnel. If Jay wanted to scare me his stunt had worked. I was petrified. My mind was racing with the possibilities that could have befallen my friend. Or worse what was about to happen to me. There I stood with the flashlight staring off into the darkness, lighting only a few feet in front of my path until the darkness swallowed it up. Boy these sure are cheap flashlights I thought. Then right on cue as if taking offense to my thought the flashlight flickered and went out.
I was now in full panic. I called out to Jay. I could hear an answer, but the sheer volume of his scream echoing off the concrete walls reverberated the words out of comprehension. I turned on my heels and ran in the direction I had come. I was feeling along the wall as I ran. It was cold and wet against my fingers. Just the feeling sent chills through my already terrified young body. I was running with all my might when suddenly my fingers could no longer feel the wall. Now I was longing for that slimy cold concrete. I felt lost in the middle of this tunnel, but I knew I was moving in the right direction. I must have hit the bend in the tunnel.
The sharp pain in my legs let me know that I had run into something. It was only about knee high, just enough to send me sailing through the air. I was screaming as I flew but I wasn't alone. I could hear Jay's familiar scream too. I couldn't believe it. I had tripped over Jay as he sat cowering in the tunnel. I knew the landing was going to hurt. Instinctively I tried to brace myself with my hands as I hit the ground, but it wasn't enough. My face skidded along the floor of the tunnel, and the water, which runs no more than an inch deep, was rushing into my mouth and up my nose. Close your mouth I thought to myself. During the fall the flashlight had come out of my hand and was clanking along the tunnel. Apparently, the jarring was enough to bring the dying batteries back to life and once again I could see a few feet.
Without missing a beat I was back on my feet running for the entrance which was now visible. I could hear footsteps splashing in the water right behind me. I thought it was Jay, but how could I be certain. All I could think of was that I had to out run whoever was chasing me. It wasn't long before we had reached the safety of the daylight. I could hear Jay laughing behind me, and soon we were both standing outside the tunnel bent over laughing and trying to catch our breath.
Nothing needed to be said. We had both been scared. There was no denying it. I was bent over gasping for air when I saw it. Jay's shoes were covered in something red. There were little drops of red on the bottoms of his jeans. I looked him square in the eye and could see only dread on his face. He was staring at me. Not really me, but my shirt. As I looked down, I understood the look. I was covered head to toe in what ever is on Jays shoes.
Don't let your mind go there I thought. It can't be true, but what else can it be. We didn't talk as we walked the few blocks back to our homes which butted right up against the ravine. How am I going to explain ruining my clothes? What was really going on in that tunnel? If there was something there, are they going to come after me?
The wrath of my father wasn't as bad as anticipated. For some reason I really thought he would one day have enough and kill me. Off to bed without dinner was punishment for ruining nearly new jeans and t-shirt. Not fun, but I knew that my mother would crack at the thought of her son starving to death, and would bring a plate to my room. It didn't matter. I wanted to be alone, and I certainly wasn't hungry.
As I lay in bed that night once again in the darkness I knew that if I lived through the night I was going to have to talk to Jay. I had a plan.
I tag: Becky and Godfather
—————————————–
Chapter 1- by Mookie
It is summertime in the middle of the day. Moms and dads are at work, so my friend Jay and I, having nothing better to do, go down into the ravine behind my house. We have decided that today we will build a small fort and a campsite we can call our own. This small stretch of creeks running through the woods in the dead center of our town forms our own wilderness frontier.
We set to the task of grabbing fallen branches and sticks to create the walls of our fort at the base of a hill. While Jay begins construction on these walls, I move to my own litle task of creating a dam in the creek that runs through this section of the woods. An older creekbed that is usually dry, except for when the rain comes, has a variety of large rocks and broken concrete. These will be the materials for damming the creek up and creating a small ponding next to our campsite. Back and forth I lug rock after rock and concrete chunks as well. Once I feel I have a sufficient amount of rocks and concrete, I begin to set them into the small and shallow running stream. Soon the water level begins to rise and expand outward away from the bank, as I choke off the streams natural flow. As with any 10 year old, seeing the fruits of my labors, even in the early stages, makes me feel like a god in my own small world. By late afternoon we expect to have a sheltered fort, a bridge over the creek, a pooling of water to soak our feet in, or to use to put out the campfires we set from time to time when our parents don’t realize we’ve stolen a box of matches or a lighter. We even have a designated circle of rocks for our campfire along with some wood, twigs and dead leaves to fuel the fire.
While pushing through some high brush in search for more wood, we spook a doe. She runs off, along the creek, and with a graceful leap she jups down into a culvert pit, ad into the dark tunnel that goes underneath a neighboring road that runs along the top of the east end of the ravine. We followed her to see just where she went. But when we got to the tunnel, we were spooked. Rumors of the tunnel being the spot for Satan Worshippers abound through our heads. This was the one place we had never dared to venture into. Graffiti was scrawled all around the tunnels entrance on the concrete exterior. Older kids had scared us with stories of animal sacrifices, complete with evidence of blood soaked walls that lay within the interior of the tunnel. We look down to one corner and see some scattered small bones, which only further reinforced the validity of these rumors. Then suddenly out of nowhere the doe came running back out the tunnel toward us, veering away as she moved past us, a wild look in her eyes. what had caused her to be so scared and willing to run back in our direction? We had neither heard nor seen anything that might represent danger. The adventure in our little stretch of frontier wilderness was only beginning…
—————————————–
Chapter 2 by Renaissance Guy
“Do you want to go in?” asked Jay with a quiver in his voice.
“Maybe. If you do,” I answered.
“My cousin knew somebody who went in there. He was never heard from again.”
“That’s baloney!” I replied. “It’s just a dumb, ol’ cave.”
“Then you go in first,” Jay suggested.
What to do? Now that I had minimalized the dangers of the cave, I couldn’t show any fear. I’d look like a chicken for sure. Then it dawned on me. “It’s dark in there. We’ll need flashlights. Let’s come back another time with flashlights, so that we can see inside it.”
How could I have known that Jay had come prepared? Out of his pocket he produced not one, but two, flashlights. “Here you go,” he said. “Lead the way.”
I turned on the flashlight and pointed it into the cave. I swirled it around a bit to see if anything hideous was visible. Nothing at all but bare rock walls. Visions of human skeletons and bloody knives zoomed through my mind. I knew that I had to stop thinking and just move forward.
With Jay close at my heels I inched my way in. Drat! Not too far in there was a bend. It was impossible to see around it. My mind went frantic again: Perhaps this is the chamber of death. Perhaps I’ve seen Mom and Dad for the last time. “Hey, Jay,” I said, “I think that I should be heading home. My parents will wonder where I am if I stay gone too long.”
Jay didn’t answer. I turned around and shrieked–almost like a girl. Where was he?
---------------------------
Chapter 3 by Jay Burns
The sound emitting from mouth didn't sound like my own as it echoed through the tunnel. If Jay wanted to scare me his stunt had worked. I was petrified. My mind was racing with the possibilities that could have befallen my friend. Or worse what was about to happen to me. There I stood with the flashlight staring off into the darkness, lighting only a few feet in front of my path until the darkness swallowed it up. Boy these sure are cheap flashlights I thought. Then right on cue as if taking offense to my thought the flashlight flickered and went out.
I was now in full panic. I called out to Jay. I could hear an answer, but the sheer volume of his scream echoing off the concrete walls reverberated the words out of comprehension. I turned on my heels and ran in the direction I had come. I was feeling along the wall as I ran. It was cold and wet against my fingers. Just the feeling sent chills through my already terrified young body. I was running with all my might when suddenly my fingers could no longer feel the wall. Now I was longing for that slimy cold concrete. I felt lost in the middle of this tunnel, but I knew I was moving in the right direction. I must have hit the bend in the tunnel.
The sharp pain in my legs let me know that I had run into something. It was only about knee high, just enough to send me sailing through the air. I was screaming as I flew but I wasn't alone. I could hear Jay's familiar scream too. I couldn't believe it. I had tripped over Jay as he sat cowering in the tunnel. I knew the landing was going to hurt. Instinctively I tried to brace myself with my hands as I hit the ground, but it wasn't enough. My face skidded along the floor of the tunnel, and the water, which runs no more than an inch deep, was rushing into my mouth and up my nose. Close your mouth I thought to myself. During the fall the flashlight had come out of my hand and was clanking along the tunnel. Apparently, the jarring was enough to bring the dying batteries back to life and once again I could see a few feet.
Without missing a beat I was back on my feet running for the entrance which was now visible. I could hear footsteps splashing in the water right behind me. I thought it was Jay, but how could I be certain. All I could think of was that I had to out run whoever was chasing me. It wasn't long before we had reached the safety of the daylight. I could hear Jay laughing behind me, and soon we were both standing outside the tunnel bent over laughing and trying to catch our breath.
Nothing needed to be said. We had both been scared. There was no denying it. I was bent over gasping for air when I saw it. Jay's shoes were covered in something red. There were little drops of red on the bottoms of his jeans. I looked him square in the eye and could see only dread on his face. He was staring at me. Not really me, but my shirt. As I looked down, I understood the look. I was covered head to toe in what ever is on Jays shoes.
Don't let your mind go there I thought. It can't be true, but what else can it be. We didn't talk as we walked the few blocks back to our homes which butted right up against the ravine. How am I going to explain ruining my clothes? What was really going on in that tunnel? If there was something there, are they going to come after me?
The wrath of my father wasn't as bad as anticipated. For some reason I really thought he would one day have enough and kill me. Off to bed without dinner was punishment for ruining nearly new jeans and t-shirt. Not fun, but I knew that my mother would crack at the thought of her son starving to death, and would bring a plate to my room. It didn't matter. I wanted to be alone, and I certainly wasn't hungry.
As I lay in bed that night once again in the darkness I knew that if I lived through the night I was going to have to talk to Jay. I had a plan.
I tag: Becky and Godfather
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Same Sex Marriage Fails Again
Same sex marriage still has a zero percent passage rate when put to a vote by the people of ANY state. Zero percent. That isn't very good. Is it?
(photo from AP story)
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Passport Update
After telling me my birth certificate and drivers license were "not sufficient for passport purposes" The United States Government requested more "proof" of citizenship. Among the list of acceptable forms of identification included;
passport (umm duh)
high school year book photo (because that is impossible to photoshop)
selective service card (what? - who carries that around)
birth certificate (I thought you said that wasn't sufficient)
Drivers License (refer to above thought)
Insurance Card (I was once rear ended by an illegal alien who had insurance)
... as well as a booklet to list every residence I have ever had, every job I've ever had, any schools attended, all living relatives including addresses and phone numbers.
As you may know, I am completely reasonable and patient person when dealing with inept government agencies. So, I thought I would make it easy on whatever poor sap was handling my case file. Yes, I filled out this book. Which is a story for another post. I gathered together paperwork such as my last 10 years of tax returns, college transcripts, probably 50 pay stubs, 10 insurance cards (including 9 expired ones) 3 voided drivers licenses, 2 full year books from high school with post-it notes to guide my handler to appropriate pages such as friends who may have listed may name and written something sentimental like "don't change". I sent childhood pictures, business cards, 12 banking statements from 1996 (these were the oldest I had on record), and a few other select items. I bundled up this "proof" of citizenship and placed it neatly in a shoebox and tied with a pink ribbon, and mailed it to the United States Passport Office in Seattle.
The post master assisting me in this endeavor said to me, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone be sarcastic by mail before". I'm not sure what he meant. I was too focused on the total price of this mailing at $6.66. Sure that could be a fluke, but if the shoe fits.... According to the Post Office tracking reciept my little box-o-sarcasm arrived on October 20th.
I was worried there for a bit, but as it turns out, I am not a terrorist. This according to the United States government who has now seen fit to give me a passport. Or at least that is what the passport confirmation website tells me. It should be in the mail now.
passport (umm duh)
high school year book photo (because that is impossible to photoshop)
selective service card (what? - who carries that around)
birth certificate (I thought you said that wasn't sufficient)
Drivers License (refer to above thought)
Insurance Card (I was once rear ended by an illegal alien who had insurance)
... as well as a booklet to list every residence I have ever had, every job I've ever had, any schools attended, all living relatives including addresses and phone numbers.
As you may know, I am completely reasonable and patient person when dealing with inept government agencies. So, I thought I would make it easy on whatever poor sap was handling my case file. Yes, I filled out this book. Which is a story for another post. I gathered together paperwork such as my last 10 years of tax returns, college transcripts, probably 50 pay stubs, 10 insurance cards (including 9 expired ones) 3 voided drivers licenses, 2 full year books from high school with post-it notes to guide my handler to appropriate pages such as friends who may have listed may name and written something sentimental like "don't change". I sent childhood pictures, business cards, 12 banking statements from 1996 (these were the oldest I had on record), and a few other select items. I bundled up this "proof" of citizenship and placed it neatly in a shoebox and tied with a pink ribbon, and mailed it to the United States Passport Office in Seattle.
The post master assisting me in this endeavor said to me, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone be sarcastic by mail before". I'm not sure what he meant. I was too focused on the total price of this mailing at $6.66. Sure that could be a fluke, but if the shoe fits.... According to the Post Office tracking reciept my little box-o-sarcasm arrived on October 20th.
I was worried there for a bit, but as it turns out, I am not a terrorist. This according to the United States government who has now seen fit to give me a passport. Or at least that is what the passport confirmation website tells me. It should be in the mail now.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Change Your Insurance Expectations
Lets think for a moment about insurance. What are things you pay to have insured? You want to make sure you have life insurance to protect against the unlikely event of your death. (assuming you are in good health. If not you couldn't afford the premiums.) You want to insure against the unlikely event that some natural disaster such as tornado or perhaps a fire destroys your home. So you need home owners or renters insurance. You insure your car against the unlikely event that you lose control of your vehicle and create a new drive through window at a local convenience store. Insurance is designed to protect you from liability should some unlikely, but financially devastating circumstance occur in your life.
Have you ever wondered why you don't buy tire insurance. Just pay the premiums and if your tires wear out you can just pay the co-pay. There will of course be a small deductible. You don't because it is not unlikely that your tires will wear out. In fact it is an absolute certainty that sooner or later you will need new tires.
Insurance should be treated the same way. You know with absolute certainty that you and your family are going to need to see the doctor for minor cases of bumps, bruises, coughs and colds. Yet for some reason we want to purchase insurance to cover the costs. It doesn't make financial sense. Let me break it down for you.
Seeing the doctor = x
If you see the doctor and pay the bill yourself :
Your Bill = x.
If you buy insurance to pay for routine office visits you will pay the insurance company via your premiums:
premiums = x+administrative costs+profits.
Face it insurance companies are not in the business of loosing money. They are in the business of making money. If they are going to pay for your routine office visits which you KNOW are going to occur, you will pay more than if you paid them on your own.
The obvious flaw here is that the doctors' offices agree to take a smaller percentage of payment from the insurance companies for a visit and for certain procedures in exchange for guaranteed payment. However, You can do that on your own. Doctors offices are willing to take less if you ask. But you have to ask, then make payment in full. Start a health savings account to pay for routine office visits for you and your family. Then purchase a catastrophic health insurance plan to insure you against the UNLIKELY event that someone in your family be diagnosed with something as costly as cancer.
If you buy your own insurance this will save you money. Do the math. Even if you have a broken arm it is still cheaper to pay for it on your own than pay the huge costs associated with the "pay-for-everything insurance plans".
Have you ever wondered why you don't buy tire insurance. Just pay the premiums and if your tires wear out you can just pay the co-pay. There will of course be a small deductible. You don't because it is not unlikely that your tires will wear out. In fact it is an absolute certainty that sooner or later you will need new tires.
Insurance should be treated the same way. You know with absolute certainty that you and your family are going to need to see the doctor for minor cases of bumps, bruises, coughs and colds. Yet for some reason we want to purchase insurance to cover the costs. It doesn't make financial sense. Let me break it down for you.
Seeing the doctor = x
If you see the doctor and pay the bill yourself :
Your Bill = x.
If you buy insurance to pay for routine office visits you will pay the insurance company via your premiums:
premiums = x+administrative costs+profits.
Face it insurance companies are not in the business of loosing money. They are in the business of making money. If they are going to pay for your routine office visits which you KNOW are going to occur, you will pay more than if you paid them on your own.
The obvious flaw here is that the doctors' offices agree to take a smaller percentage of payment from the insurance companies for a visit and for certain procedures in exchange for guaranteed payment. However, You can do that on your own. Doctors offices are willing to take less if you ask. But you have to ask, then make payment in full. Start a health savings account to pay for routine office visits for you and your family. Then purchase a catastrophic health insurance plan to insure you against the UNLIKELY event that someone in your family be diagnosed with something as costly as cancer.
If you buy your own insurance this will save you money. Do the math. Even if you have a broken arm it is still cheaper to pay for it on your own than pay the huge costs associated with the "pay-for-everything insurance plans".
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Uncle Sam Doesn't Trust Me
I am currently fighting to restrain an all too familiar feeling. I have had this feeling while sitting in the DMV office, post office, or pretty much any other pathetically run government agency.
A few weeks back my wife and I applied for our passports. We both went to the post office, the only place to take care of this in our county. We both presented birth certificates along with drivers licenses as proof of identification and citizenship.
Today we checked the mail to discover that while my wife received her passport no problem, I get a letter from the field office in Seattle. It reads, and I quote, "Unfortunately the identification you provided is not sufficient for passport purposes."
WHAT? Actually it must be, otherwise you wouldn't have issued my wife's passport. Or it isn't actually enough, and you issued hers anyway. Either way I have deemed your office inept.
Well, that is what I would like to say to them when I call tomorrow, but I won't. I'll call the office to see exactly what I can do to resolve this matter. I will do so in a polite and courteous manner. I will jump through all their hoops until they have deemed my lack of an Egyptian accent sufficient to be rewarded with a passport.
A few weeks back my wife and I applied for our passports. We both went to the post office, the only place to take care of this in our county. We both presented birth certificates along with drivers licenses as proof of identification and citizenship.
Today we checked the mail to discover that while my wife received her passport no problem, I get a letter from the field office in Seattle. It reads, and I quote, "Unfortunately the identification you provided is not sufficient for passport purposes."
WHAT? Actually it must be, otherwise you wouldn't have issued my wife's passport. Or it isn't actually enough, and you issued hers anyway. Either way I have deemed your office inept.
Well, that is what I would like to say to them when I call tomorrow, but I won't. I'll call the office to see exactly what I can do to resolve this matter. I will do so in a polite and courteous manner. I will jump through all their hoops until they have deemed my lack of an Egyptian accent sufficient to be rewarded with a passport.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Cody Thunder Rally
Cody thunder rally is a motorcycle rally based out of Cody, WY. It was held this past weekend. Usually this poker run garners numbers around 150. Usually temperatures are higher than 55 degrees. Usually it isn't forecast to rain all weekend. This year there were only 35 riders up for the task.
The ride starts in Cody and runs over 250 miles over what is known as "top of the world", (the Beartooth highway) in Red Lodge Montana, to Cook City and back around to Cody. I should mention that just a few days prior it had snowed several inches on the bear tooth pass where we were headed.
All said it was a great ride. Just a little chilly at the top of the world. 42 degrees. We saw a little hail, a little rain, but had a great time. Here are a few of the pictures from our trip. 
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
A Life All In
The first mission trip my wife ever took was to Mexico. Sponsoring that trip were Chris and Jackie Leggett. This was a transformational trip for my wife. Instrumental in that change were Chris and Jackie who truly exemplified living the life of a Christian.
Chris and Jackie were missionaries to Mauritania, Africa. Where they gave micro-business loans to locals to help build their economy, as well as teach the women trades such as sewing.
In addition whenever the opportunity arose they would share their faith in Christ with the people of this Muslim nation. As with most Muslim countries Christian proselytizing is strictly prohibited.
After marrying, my wife introduced me to the work of this couple, and suggested we support them financially whenever we could. A couple years ago they visited us in our home and spoke at our church. I’m sure we never told them, but they were a greater blessing to us in those few days than we were ever to them.
Chis was killed this June while arriving at his office in Mauritania. Apparently he was shot during an attempted kidnapping. Chris leaves behind a wife and 4 kids. Al Qaida has claimed responsibility.
Chris Leggett lived a life All In. He will be missed.
Chris and Jackie were missionaries to Mauritania, Africa. Where they gave micro-business loans to locals to help build their economy, as well as teach the women trades such as sewing.
In addition whenever the opportunity arose they would share their faith in Christ with the people of this Muslim nation. As with most Muslim countries Christian proselytizing is strictly prohibited.
After marrying, my wife introduced me to the work of this couple, and suggested we support them financially whenever we could. A couple years ago they visited us in our home and spoke at our church. I’m sure we never told them, but they were a greater blessing to us in those few days than we were ever to them.
Chis was killed this June while arriving at his office in Mauritania. Apparently he was shot during an attempted kidnapping. Chris leaves behind a wife and 4 kids. Al Qaida has claimed responsibility.
Chris Leggett lived a life All In. He will be missed.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Happy 100th to Me
I don't know why but for some reason when preparing to post a blog today I looked down and realized, "I'm about to make my 100th post". It is kind of like how when you look down at the odometer just in time to see it roll over the next major milestone.
I guess that means that I might be here to stay for a while. Sorry, to those of you whom I tend to irritate with my usually right wing thoughts. Condolences to my family members, usually my wife, who tends to be at least mentioned in many of the embarrassing stories I tell. And thanks to those of you who take the time to drop by and read my odd collections of writings now and again.
For those of you wanting to send gifts......
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
What REALLY happened
For those of you reading our facebook you are likely to think that my wife had to have a leg and half an arm amputated after our recent ATV accident. I'll clear the air. Yes we, or I, rolled it with her on the back. After reading her accounts you are likely to think we (read I) rolled this 4 wheel drive vehicle at a speed of roughly 75 miles per hour, causing us to be flung from the "vehicle of death" headlong until we collided with the ground causing injuries requiring immediate hospitalization.
Perhaps we remember this incident a bit differently as I ended up with no visible injuries, and she ended up with a couple bruises and a scraped arm. Here is how I would describe the incident.
From a complete stop we began to spin around in a donut. As we reached a 180 degree turn the vehicle began to tip. Unable to stop the momentum we fell off the side of the ATV from a height of approx. 3 feet. As we landed the vehicle continued to tumble and for a brief moment trapped my wife's leg under the metal roll bar. Which she easily pulled out from under vehicle. I was easily able to flip the ATV back onto it's wheels and we were motoring on in a matter of moments.
However, not wanting a good crisis to go to waste my wife is getting some really good "guilt mileage" out of the incident. Examples include; waking in the middle of the night, then waking me, pointing at the barely scratched elbow, making a pout face, and saying oh so sweetly, "will YOU get me a drink of water, It hurts too bad to get up."
Perhaps we remember this incident a bit differently as I ended up with no visible injuries, and she ended up with a couple bruises and a scraped arm. Here is how I would describe the incident.
From a complete stop we began to spin around in a donut. As we reached a 180 degree turn the vehicle began to tip. Unable to stop the momentum we fell off the side of the ATV from a height of approx. 3 feet. As we landed the vehicle continued to tumble and for a brief moment trapped my wife's leg under the metal roll bar. Which she easily pulled out from under vehicle. I was easily able to flip the ATV back onto it's wheels and we were motoring on in a matter of moments.
However, not wanting a good crisis to go to waste my wife is getting some really good "guilt mileage" out of the incident. Examples include; waking in the middle of the night, then waking me, pointing at the barely scratched elbow, making a pout face, and saying oh so sweetly, "will YOU get me a drink of water, It hurts too bad to get up."
Thursday, July 30, 2009
... and my wife thinks it's funny.
I will keep this post short as it requires very little explanation.
Mother buys underwear in a roll from Wal-mart.
Gets them home unrolls them. Doesn't like them.
My wife takes them... AND IS WEARING THEM!
I am NOT ok with this. Sure my mother never wore them, But she did own them.
Mother buys underwear in a roll from Wal-mart.
Gets them home unrolls them. Doesn't like them.
My wife takes them... AND IS WEARING THEM!
I am NOT ok with this. Sure my mother never wore them, But she did own them.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Saturday evening my wife and I called some friends following a week long excursion working the county fair. Although we were a bit tired from working late each evening and a tad sluggish from all the corn dogs and funnel cakes, we were excited about spending time with our friends.Upon calling them we found that they were out in the hills just outside of town shooting. I'll admit I was a bit excited at this point, knowing my friend had recently purchased an AR-15. You can see a picture of one above. For those of you unfamiliar with this weapon, it is the quintessential assault rifle for home defense, or in our case defending the outskirts of our small town from watermelons that had somehow infiltrated our security. Town residents can sleep well at night knowing that there were 4 of us on the case. We were armed to the teeth with a semi-automatic .22 hand gun, .22 rifle, 20 gauge shotgun, .40 caliber handgun and of course the AR-15. The assault rifle made light work of the invaders. This weapon has only a slight recoil, but the compression is amazing. Standing 10 feet away I could feel the air compression from the explosion of the rounds.
It was a fun evening. I had always wanted to shoot one of these guns. Imagine we shot all those rounds and not a single liquor store was held up, and no one was killed. Weird.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Racism.... Yee Haw!
This past weekend my wife and I held another fundraiser to help us gather the 30 thousand dollars we'll need to adopt a pair of kids from Ethiopia. It was a garage sale held at our church. On Friday evening we brought our goodies for the sale. My mother also came along with a number of great garage sale items including a small portion of her magnificent doll collection. (I was a little sad to see her selling these, but I also knew she would rather ad her 7th and 8th grand kids to the foll than continue to look at dolls gathering dust). Then suddenly trailers began arriving from parishioners, loaded down with items to donate to our sale.
I will say I hate garage sales, no really, I hate them. This on the other hand looked more like a swap meet. I believe I counted 6 televisions and 4 stereos. There were 2 dining tables, 1 couch, 3 recliners, 2 complete dish sets, and hoards of other pieces of merchandises strategically marked down to garage sale prices, including a small increase to create the necessary room for bartering.
It was about 4 hours into the sale which opened at 6 am when I met an old codger we'll just call Hank. Hank approached us with a rack of some kind in one hand and a shiny new quarter in the other, Hoping I'm sure to work us off our 50 cent price tag.
Hank was wearing a US Navy Ball cap. I instantly thought I'd like this old guy. Then he asked why we were holding this sale. Promptly my mother holds up the donation can and explains that we are raising money to adopt from Ethiopia.
Immediately I see the old mans nose begin to curl.Perhaps I was wrong about liking this guy. Then from his mouth comes a word that sounded as though it had come from somewhere deep in his bowls. "You mean there gonna be "BLIICCK"." I think he meant black. After wiping the old man's spittle from my eye, I attempted to explain to him the orphan situation in Ethiopia. My attempt was for naught as he immediately interrupted me to launch into his tirade about having worked in law enforcement in the south. Where he had apparently "locked up" many-a-bliicck.
I've come to some of this with our interracial adoption, and the potential response from the ignorant, but experiencing it first hand was new.
All said it was a great yard sale. We raised over $1300. It was definitely more than I had anticipated. Tainted only by one old ignorant hack.
It was a good day.
I will say I hate garage sales, no really, I hate them. This on the other hand looked more like a swap meet. I believe I counted 6 televisions and 4 stereos. There were 2 dining tables, 1 couch, 3 recliners, 2 complete dish sets, and hoards of other pieces of merchandises strategically marked down to garage sale prices, including a small increase to create the necessary room for bartering.
It was about 4 hours into the sale which opened at 6 am when I met an old codger we'll just call Hank. Hank approached us with a rack of some kind in one hand and a shiny new quarter in the other, Hoping I'm sure to work us off our 50 cent price tag.
Hank was wearing a US Navy Ball cap. I instantly thought I'd like this old guy. Then he asked why we were holding this sale. Promptly my mother holds up the donation can and explains that we are raising money to adopt from Ethiopia.
Immediately I see the old mans nose begin to curl.Perhaps I was wrong about liking this guy. Then from his mouth comes a word that sounded as though it had come from somewhere deep in his bowls. "You mean there gonna be "BLIICCK"." I think he meant black. After wiping the old man's spittle from my eye, I attempted to explain to him the orphan situation in Ethiopia. My attempt was for naught as he immediately interrupted me to launch into his tirade about having worked in law enforcement in the south. Where he had apparently "locked up" many-a-bliicck.
I've come to some of this with our interracial adoption, and the potential response from the ignorant, but experiencing it first hand was new.
All said it was a great yard sale. We raised over $1300. It was definitely more than I had anticipated. Tainted only by one old ignorant hack.
It was a good day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)