It reached 70 here today.
And tomorrow it is supposed to rain, and not get above 45.
Monday snow is predicted and the high will be 38!
I cannot ever remember being so tired of Winter as this year.
It has been cold, wet and in general unpleasant since mid-October.
Global Warming, my homesick behind!
I miss Florida right now!
The Queen just saw our first Robin of the year, so maybe this is the last blast of the Winter.
I sure hope so, spoiled Southern Brat that I am!
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Another Depression?
I don't think so.
I read a particularly good editorial in our local small town edition of the paper.
The writer is an older fellow who grew up during the Great Depression, as both of my parents did.
He described the lifestyle that most folks had in those days, regardless of whether they lived in a small town, or on a farm as my people did.
The Queen's mother (NaNa) was a farm girl also.
Her dad was a city boy who grew up in Detroit.
Almost three forths of America lived in rural areas in the twenties and thirties.
The great push into the cities did not start until WWII and afterwards, when the boys came home.
Virtually everyone in that era would be considered extremely poor by today's standards.
Few people had phones in their homes, they used the one at the local post office or neighborhood store.
Even tiny farm villages like Wikel where my dad grew up had a post office.
Snail mail was the means of staying in touch with family and friends, and the world at large.
The local paper, Life and The Saturday Evening Post and the Farmer's Almanac were eagerly awaited. Most farms had a battery radio, to listen to "The Grand Ol Opry" and the news.
Occasionally a radio serial like "The Lone Ranger", "Orphan Annie" or the "Shadow" was enjoyed.
Going "To" the doctor or hospital was almost unheard of.
Babies were born at home, and people died at home.
Indeed, most people were too far from a hospital to make them practical, and doctor's would come to you. They were often paid in unusual fashion, more of a barter arrangement.
If a family had a car, it was guaranteed to be old.
My grandfather was one of the first in the area to own a used tractor.
Farm implements were shared.
At harvest time neighbors helped one another bring in the crops, and shared machinery.
One man might own a combine, one a baler, etc.
Lunch was always fixed by the wives, and was enough food to kill a normal person today.
Everyone helped. My dad started working with the men by the time he was 10 years old.
Not much of a childhood.
Most rural homes did not even have electricity, or indoor plumbing.
Even in small towns and cities "out buildings" were common.
There was no electrification on the family farm until 1938, when my dad and granddad built the farmhouse that is still standing today.
One pair of shoes purchased in late fall had to suffice for the winter.
There was no money for more.
Clothes were all hand me down.
If you happened to be the 'down' and were a boy like my dad, with elder sisters, you did the best you could to adapt to their old clothing.
But, they had food, if the weather did not take a disastrous turn.
Both of my parents lived far off the beaten path, and did not see any transient workers (hobos) looking for work/food.
The Queen's Aunt Elaine recently related a story about such people regularly coming by their town farm in Painesville OH.
Her parents always had something for them, and would let them work if there was any.
Both of my grandfathers had to work full time jobs, and farm when they could.
My grandmothers raised the children and ran the farm in their absence.
My mother's father was a mason, and delivererd ice.
My grandad Harvey was a carpenter for the coal mines in addition to farming.
In short, life was tough.
Politicians did not solve the problems and end The Great Depression.
World War Two did.
As late as 1937 unemployment was still in the high double digits.
There are indeed desperately poor people today.
We are all supposed to help them if we are able,
especially if we call ourselves followers of The Christ.
But from what I've seen, little of the ever increasing spending bills (almost Two Trillion dollars to date either passed or proposed. That's two thousand billion dollars, folks!)
will actually benefit them.
We are paying for other peoples stupidity and criminal negligence.
From the Corporate CEO's who ran their companies into the ground, the borrower who paid no attention to what they could actually afford to borrow, the lender who greedily offered them whatever they wanted for a buck, and the base self serving politicians who urged them to do so.
Many of whom personally profited from these incestuous, nefarious deals.
As always, we who actually work for a living and follow the rules will pay the bills.
Our children, grand children and I fear great grand children will also pay and pay and pay.
It is a desperate situation out there in the real working world of free market capitalism.
The world most of us depend on for our daily bread.
Large, long term (1888) conservatively run corporations like mine are suffering, all the way down to the family owned contractors I deal with who are frantically trying to win projects and keep their people on board.
But dear friends and family, it ain't 1929!
We The People will pull through this, by the sweat of our brow coupled with our own innate ingenuity and work ethic.
Our politicians are not the answer, they are the problem as President Ronald Wilson Reagan said in his first inaguration speech.
He was right in trusting the American People, and not the Federal Government.
We need to listen to his wisdom again.
It is patently obvious to me that our current crew in D.C are not following his advice, for the most part.
"Fear not, for I am with you."
Follow The Author of these words and work hard, and we will all make it together.
I read a particularly good editorial in our local small town edition of the paper.
The writer is an older fellow who grew up during the Great Depression, as both of my parents did.
He described the lifestyle that most folks had in those days, regardless of whether they lived in a small town, or on a farm as my people did.
The Queen's mother (NaNa) was a farm girl also.
Her dad was a city boy who grew up in Detroit.
Almost three forths of America lived in rural areas in the twenties and thirties.
The great push into the cities did not start until WWII and afterwards, when the boys came home.
Virtually everyone in that era would be considered extremely poor by today's standards.
Few people had phones in their homes, they used the one at the local post office or neighborhood store.
Even tiny farm villages like Wikel where my dad grew up had a post office.
Snail mail was the means of staying in touch with family and friends, and the world at large.
The local paper, Life and The Saturday Evening Post and the Farmer's Almanac were eagerly awaited. Most farms had a battery radio, to listen to "The Grand Ol Opry" and the news.
Occasionally a radio serial like "The Lone Ranger", "Orphan Annie" or the "Shadow" was enjoyed.
Going "To" the doctor or hospital was almost unheard of.
Babies were born at home, and people died at home.
Indeed, most people were too far from a hospital to make them practical, and doctor's would come to you. They were often paid in unusual fashion, more of a barter arrangement.
If a family had a car, it was guaranteed to be old.
My grandfather was one of the first in the area to own a used tractor.
Farm implements were shared.
At harvest time neighbors helped one another bring in the crops, and shared machinery.
One man might own a combine, one a baler, etc.
Lunch was always fixed by the wives, and was enough food to kill a normal person today.
Everyone helped. My dad started working with the men by the time he was 10 years old.
Not much of a childhood.
Most rural homes did not even have electricity, or indoor plumbing.
Even in small towns and cities "out buildings" were common.
There was no electrification on the family farm until 1938, when my dad and granddad built the farmhouse that is still standing today.
One pair of shoes purchased in late fall had to suffice for the winter.
There was no money for more.
Clothes were all hand me down.
If you happened to be the 'down' and were a boy like my dad, with elder sisters, you did the best you could to adapt to their old clothing.
But, they had food, if the weather did not take a disastrous turn.
Both of my parents lived far off the beaten path, and did not see any transient workers (hobos) looking for work/food.
The Queen's Aunt Elaine recently related a story about such people regularly coming by their town farm in Painesville OH.
Her parents always had something for them, and would let them work if there was any.
Both of my grandfathers had to work full time jobs, and farm when they could.
My grandmothers raised the children and ran the farm in their absence.
My mother's father was a mason, and delivererd ice.
My grandad Harvey was a carpenter for the coal mines in addition to farming.
In short, life was tough.
Politicians did not solve the problems and end The Great Depression.
World War Two did.
As late as 1937 unemployment was still in the high double digits.
There are indeed desperately poor people today.
We are all supposed to help them if we are able,
especially if we call ourselves followers of The Christ.
But from what I've seen, little of the ever increasing spending bills (almost Two Trillion dollars to date either passed or proposed. That's two thousand billion dollars, folks!)
will actually benefit them.
We are paying for other peoples stupidity and criminal negligence.
From the Corporate CEO's who ran their companies into the ground, the borrower who paid no attention to what they could actually afford to borrow, the lender who greedily offered them whatever they wanted for a buck, and the base self serving politicians who urged them to do so.
Many of whom personally profited from these incestuous, nefarious deals.
As always, we who actually work for a living and follow the rules will pay the bills.
Our children, grand children and I fear great grand children will also pay and pay and pay.
It is a desperate situation out there in the real working world of free market capitalism.
The world most of us depend on for our daily bread.
Large, long term (1888) conservatively run corporations like mine are suffering, all the way down to the family owned contractors I deal with who are frantically trying to win projects and keep their people on board.
But dear friends and family, it ain't 1929!
We The People will pull through this, by the sweat of our brow coupled with our own innate ingenuity and work ethic.
Our politicians are not the answer, they are the problem as President Ronald Wilson Reagan said in his first inaguration speech.
He was right in trusting the American People, and not the Federal Government.
We need to listen to his wisdom again.
It is patently obvious to me that our current crew in D.C are not following his advice, for the most part.
"Fear not, for I am with you."
Follow The Author of these words and work hard, and we will all make it together.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Time keeps on 'tickin.....
I recently treated myself (a rare occurance) to an XM radio for my company car.
With all of the White Line time I put in for my job, it has proven to be a blessing.
One station plays rare cuts and different versions of some of the songs of my youth.
I always liked the Steve Miller Band, a Texas native son.
His song "Fly Like an Eagle" is one of my favorites.
I heard a recent live update of that song over the weekend.
The lyrics came to mind this weekend as I put together some pictures for our son's graduation.
The University asked all of their upcoming grads to do so, it will play a slide show during the ceremonies. It seems like yesterday I did the same thing for his High School grad.
The following is in no set order and includes many of his sports pix over the years, from his first day of little league through HS Football.
His first day of school, Kindergarten grad, grade school and HS grad, and the typical cutsie pictures that will no doubt embarrass the heck out of him when he knows I posted them follow.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Happy Friday!
Friday's are always pretty gleeful, but this one is especially welcome.
As Winston Churchill is reputed to have said;
"Nothing is quite so satisfying as being shot at, and missed!"
As I made my rounds in Richmond Tuesday afternoon, my boss called me and asked
"Have you heard of any of the rumors floating around?"
I had not, as I left early to drive up.
"Well, we had another RIF yesterday."
As I explained earlier, RIF means more good people lost their jobs due to this miserable politician and financial idiot induced economy.
I was blessed to have been passed over by the Grim Reaper, once again.
This makes by my count at least a half dozen times in my 12 year tenure with the company.
My best buddy with the company in Atlanta was due to retire in June.
He basically was asked to fall on his sword for the other two of us in the region.
After speaking to him last night, he confirmed what my boss told me that the company treated him well.
His severance package basically allowed him to retire three months early at full pay.
"I got up Tuesday and had a hard time dealing with it, after 30 years in this business and 20 with the company. But this morn when I got up and realized I really didn't have to do a damn thing if I didn't want to, I knew that I can live with this!" he related.
Others weren't so lucky. My friend in NJ who started with the firm when I did was a casualty, as were some of our support and engineering people.
Good people, with families.
People who all started working in their early teens, as I did, and who never stopped.
Folks who pay the Lion's share of the taxes in this country.
Families who never ask for anything from anyone, they simply want to work and provide for their own needs.
And we are not at the bottom of this mud slide yet, I fear.
Most likely every mid-quarter when the trend for that period becomes apparent, the powers that be in all companies will have to decide what they need to do if things are still depressed.
Cut people and stay open for a bit longer, or close the doors for everyone?
Not an easy choice for any decent human being.
Maybe if our government leaders offered to cut their pay and benefits, or better yet truly
"Work for the Public Good" as was originally intended I would believe they have all of our best interests at heart.
As if that will ever happen.
Rock on, fellow Pilgrims and have a wunnerful weekend!
As Winston Churchill is reputed to have said;
"Nothing is quite so satisfying as being shot at, and missed!"
As I made my rounds in Richmond Tuesday afternoon, my boss called me and asked
"Have you heard of any of the rumors floating around?"
I had not, as I left early to drive up.
"Well, we had another RIF yesterday."
As I explained earlier, RIF means more good people lost their jobs due to this miserable politician and financial idiot induced economy.
I was blessed to have been passed over by the Grim Reaper, once again.
This makes by my count at least a half dozen times in my 12 year tenure with the company.
My best buddy with the company in Atlanta was due to retire in June.
He basically was asked to fall on his sword for the other two of us in the region.
After speaking to him last night, he confirmed what my boss told me that the company treated him well.
His severance package basically allowed him to retire three months early at full pay.
"I got up Tuesday and had a hard time dealing with it, after 30 years in this business and 20 with the company. But this morn when I got up and realized I really didn't have to do a damn thing if I didn't want to, I knew that I can live with this!" he related.
Others weren't so lucky. My friend in NJ who started with the firm when I did was a casualty, as were some of our support and engineering people.
Good people, with families.
People who all started working in their early teens, as I did, and who never stopped.
Folks who pay the Lion's share of the taxes in this country.
Families who never ask for anything from anyone, they simply want to work and provide for their own needs.
And we are not at the bottom of this mud slide yet, I fear.
Most likely every mid-quarter when the trend for that period becomes apparent, the powers that be in all companies will have to decide what they need to do if things are still depressed.
Cut people and stay open for a bit longer, or close the doors for everyone?
Not an easy choice for any decent human being.
Maybe if our government leaders offered to cut their pay and benefits, or better yet truly
"Work for the Public Good" as was originally intended I would believe they have all of our best interests at heart.
As if that will ever happen.
Rock on, fellow Pilgrims and have a wunnerful weekend!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Stimulous Blues
Sung to the tune of "That's All Right, Momma" by Elvis.
That's all right Obama, that's all right with me.
Say that's all right Congress,
go on that spending spree!
Yea, that's all right, that's all right,
it's our cash after all!
335 million for condoms,
4 billion for A.C.O.R.N,
and if we ask what else is there,
we're in for lasting scorn!
That's all right, yea that's all right,
go on that spending spree!
Dee, dee dee dee deet,
and Oink, oink oink oink!
Muscle in to the trough boys,
and grab your share of pork!
It's our money, yea it's our money!
The taxpayer pays after all!
Our great grand kids will thank us!
For all of this debt!
Long after we are dead and gone,
they will be paying it!
But, that's all right! Yea, that's all right!
It's their money after all!
That's all right Obama, that's all right with me.
Say that's all right Congress,
go on that spending spree!
Yea, that's all right, that's all right,
it's our cash after all!
335 million for condoms,
4 billion for A.C.O.R.N,
and if we ask what else is there,
we're in for lasting scorn!
That's all right, yea that's all right,
go on that spending spree!
Dee, dee dee dee deet,
and Oink, oink oink oink!
Muscle in to the trough boys,
and grab your share of pork!
It's our money, yea it's our money!
The taxpayer pays after all!
Our great grand kids will thank us!
For all of this debt!
Long after we are dead and gone,
they will be paying it!
But, that's all right! Yea, that's all right!
It's their money after all!
Monday, February 9, 2009
Spring teaser
After the coldest, wettest Winter since we have been in this house, we were treated to a spring-like weekend.
Yesterday the temp climbed to 75.
We spent the entire day outside, in bright warm cloudless sunlight.
It was glorious!
I am under no delusions (at least where the weather is concerned) that Winter is over.
We will no doubt have several more hard freezes, and it has snowed here as late as the last week of March since we have lived here.
But after over five decades on this mortal orb, you take the good gratefully.
Thank you for the great weekend!
Indeed, it is supposed to be mild at least through Friday.
Use this as an analogy for all of the troubling things that face us now.
The Republic has survived greedy self-centered politicians for 219 years now.
It will survive this crew as well.
"We the People" are the life blood of this country.
Not Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid or Arlen Spector.
We are the single mother who works two jobs to support her children, and saves so that they may have a better life than she.
The blue-collar "Redneck" (so called) that gets up before dawn every day, and works a job that he doesn't necessarily like, and might even hate.
But he puts his wife and his children's welfare before his own hopes and dreams.
The talented teacher who knows she could make more money in the private sector, but feels called to teach.
The Soldier and Marine and their fellow warriors who have the intelligence and focus that few of us have.
They also know they could make big bucks in the private sector.
But they also feel called to follow the self-sacrificing path they walk.
Men like our son, who will graduate with honors, but chose to serve as a commissioned officer rather than a corporate ladder climber as 95% of his fellow graduates will do this year.
This includes the cop on the beat, the firefighter and EMT that never know when they strap on their gear and leave for work if this will be the day that their life is literally on the line.
We are also millions strong who work jobs that chose us by life's circumstance.
Not ones that fulfill the dreams and goals of our youth, but ones that pay the bills and take care of our families earthly needs.
Deep satisfaction and soulful yearnings fulfilled?
Most of us never know what that is like as far as our vocations are concerned.
We do what we have to.
We work, pay our taxes and obey the law of the Lord and the laws of the land.
We are faceless, nameless and relatively unknown.
But it would behoove those to whom we have temporarily given power to remember one thing.
We are multiple millions strong, there are less than 600 of you.
We elected you to hold office, and we can remove you as well.
It's our money that you so carelessly throw around like Monopoly cash.
We don't want our great grandchildren paying for your stupidity.
Start listening to us now, or come next election day you will be on the outside looking in!
Yesterday the temp climbed to 75.
We spent the entire day outside, in bright warm cloudless sunlight.
It was glorious!
I am under no delusions (at least where the weather is concerned) that Winter is over.
We will no doubt have several more hard freezes, and it has snowed here as late as the last week of March since we have lived here.
But after over five decades on this mortal orb, you take the good gratefully.
Thank you for the great weekend!
Indeed, it is supposed to be mild at least through Friday.
Use this as an analogy for all of the troubling things that face us now.
The Republic has survived greedy self-centered politicians for 219 years now.
It will survive this crew as well.
"We the People" are the life blood of this country.
Not Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid or Arlen Spector.
We are the single mother who works two jobs to support her children, and saves so that they may have a better life than she.
The blue-collar "Redneck" (so called) that gets up before dawn every day, and works a job that he doesn't necessarily like, and might even hate.
But he puts his wife and his children's welfare before his own hopes and dreams.
The talented teacher who knows she could make more money in the private sector, but feels called to teach.
The Soldier and Marine and their fellow warriors who have the intelligence and focus that few of us have.
They also know they could make big bucks in the private sector.
But they also feel called to follow the self-sacrificing path they walk.
Men like our son, who will graduate with honors, but chose to serve as a commissioned officer rather than a corporate ladder climber as 95% of his fellow graduates will do this year.
This includes the cop on the beat, the firefighter and EMT that never know when they strap on their gear and leave for work if this will be the day that their life is literally on the line.
We are also millions strong who work jobs that chose us by life's circumstance.
Not ones that fulfill the dreams and goals of our youth, but ones that pay the bills and take care of our families earthly needs.
Deep satisfaction and soulful yearnings fulfilled?
Most of us never know what that is like as far as our vocations are concerned.
We do what we have to.
We work, pay our taxes and obey the law of the Lord and the laws of the land.
We are faceless, nameless and relatively unknown.
But it would behoove those to whom we have temporarily given power to remember one thing.
We are multiple millions strong, there are less than 600 of you.
We elected you to hold office, and we can remove you as well.
It's our money that you so carelessly throw around like Monopoly cash.
We don't want our great grandchildren paying for your stupidity.
Start listening to us now, or come next election day you will be on the outside looking in!
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Peace
We are promised peace by The Saviour, and admonished not to worry.
In the best of times it isn't easy.
This is not the best of times in many ways.
Our culture has slipped into an accepted state of depravity in my life time.
What was once intolerable in society is now not only accepted, in many cases it is applauded.
It seems most Americans care more about so called stars and noteworthies than they do morality and ethics.
How much of the news is taken up with their shameless exploits?
Put a clock to it sometimes. You will be appalled.
Abortion, greed, millions of women forced to raise their children without help from the fathers,
and the unstoppable trend towards total dependency on our government is cause for great grief and concern.
Instead of fixing our local schools, we bus children past a school in their own neighborhood to one miles away. They spend time sitting on a bus that could be spent at home.
Long days are the norm for most of our public school young ones.
Our local school guru's recently told concerned parents who were protesting reassignment,
and I paraphrase "Go jump in the Lake!"
A dedicated parent has only two other options, home school or private school at great expense.
We are still financially recoverning from taking the private school route for 12 years with our own son.
And I paid and I am still paying school property taxes.
The danger of depending on our government, no matter who is in charge was illustrated again this week.
President Obama was elected at least in part by his pledge to "clean up" our government, and demand ethics.
Two of his appointments had to withdraw yesterday because they failed to pay income tax.
Several others should have, but defiantly refused to and were confirmed anyway.
Including the man who will lead the Treasury Department.
That's right, the one which includes the I.R.S.
Try not paying your taxes and then offer a lame excuse when caught. Good luck with that!
When details of the so called Stimulous Bill started leaking, public approval started dropping.
335 Million for STD prevention (translated: condoms) that Speaker Pelosi placed in the bill.
4 Billion dollars for A.C.O.R.N., a political action group that solely supports the party in power.
Some financial experts estimate that only 12% of the 900 Billion dollar bill actually has the potential to create real jobs and stimulate the economy.
The rest is Pork and political payback.
And every penny of it is our money.
Your tax dollars and mine.
It doesn't really seem to matter who sits behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office.
It's still business as usual for the pigs at the public trough in Congress.
My own job is nowhere near secure.
The corporation overall is well behind plan already this year.
Everywhere my travels take me people are worried about their ability to take care of their families.
No one wants a government hand-out, we just want to work.
And it is just the tip of the iceburg I fear.
Things will get much worse before they get better, and it will last far longer than we have been told by the media and the government.
I've been there before, but this time it looks far worse than ever before in my lifetime.
It's a scary world out there in our economy.
Just now The President gave a brief talk announcing measures to limit executive compensation.
I can't muster up any sympathy for corporate honchos, especially those that took big salaries and bonuses while their companies nose dived, and good working rank and file employees lost their jobs.
But how will that create jobs and stimulate the economy?
Will it halt inflation, restore faith in the financial system and grow the stock market?
I think not.
It is mere window dressing to play upon the public's anger towards a very small sement of the economy.
I feel a bit sorry for President Obama.
He wanted the job, and now he knows why past Presidents seem to age far beyond the years they spent in office.
It's not an easy chair to sit in, especially given the usual crew of greedy stooges in Congress he is forced to work with.
Peace? It can only come from the I Am.
Try to take a mini-sabbatical from the news.
Take a walk instead, don't pick up a paper or read any news on the Net.
See a funny movie (maybe the Pink Panther II, it looks hysterical!)
Do something silly with your kids, or if you are ancient as I am, my lovely wife.
We plan on doing that this weekend.
"My peace I give to you."
I am claiming that promise, and will do my part to actually accept it day to day.
In the best of times it isn't easy.
This is not the best of times in many ways.
Our culture has slipped into an accepted state of depravity in my life time.
What was once intolerable in society is now not only accepted, in many cases it is applauded.
It seems most Americans care more about so called stars and noteworthies than they do morality and ethics.
How much of the news is taken up with their shameless exploits?
Put a clock to it sometimes. You will be appalled.
Abortion, greed, millions of women forced to raise their children without help from the fathers,
and the unstoppable trend towards total dependency on our government is cause for great grief and concern.
Instead of fixing our local schools, we bus children past a school in their own neighborhood to one miles away. They spend time sitting on a bus that could be spent at home.
Long days are the norm for most of our public school young ones.
Our local school guru's recently told concerned parents who were protesting reassignment,
and I paraphrase "Go jump in the Lake!"
A dedicated parent has only two other options, home school or private school at great expense.
We are still financially recoverning from taking the private school route for 12 years with our own son.
And I paid and I am still paying school property taxes.
The danger of depending on our government, no matter who is in charge was illustrated again this week.
President Obama was elected at least in part by his pledge to "clean up" our government, and demand ethics.
Two of his appointments had to withdraw yesterday because they failed to pay income tax.
Several others should have, but defiantly refused to and were confirmed anyway.
Including the man who will lead the Treasury Department.
That's right, the one which includes the I.R.S.
Try not paying your taxes and then offer a lame excuse when caught. Good luck with that!
When details of the so called Stimulous Bill started leaking, public approval started dropping.
335 Million for STD prevention (translated: condoms) that Speaker Pelosi placed in the bill.
4 Billion dollars for A.C.O.R.N., a political action group that solely supports the party in power.
Some financial experts estimate that only 12% of the 900 Billion dollar bill actually has the potential to create real jobs and stimulate the economy.
The rest is Pork and political payback.
And every penny of it is our money.
Your tax dollars and mine.
It doesn't really seem to matter who sits behind the Resolute Desk in the Oval Office.
It's still business as usual for the pigs at the public trough in Congress.
My own job is nowhere near secure.
The corporation overall is well behind plan already this year.
Everywhere my travels take me people are worried about their ability to take care of their families.
No one wants a government hand-out, we just want to work.
And it is just the tip of the iceburg I fear.
Things will get much worse before they get better, and it will last far longer than we have been told by the media and the government.
I've been there before, but this time it looks far worse than ever before in my lifetime.
It's a scary world out there in our economy.
Just now The President gave a brief talk announcing measures to limit executive compensation.
I can't muster up any sympathy for corporate honchos, especially those that took big salaries and bonuses while their companies nose dived, and good working rank and file employees lost their jobs.
But how will that create jobs and stimulate the economy?
Will it halt inflation, restore faith in the financial system and grow the stock market?
I think not.
It is mere window dressing to play upon the public's anger towards a very small sement of the economy.
I feel a bit sorry for President Obama.
He wanted the job, and now he knows why past Presidents seem to age far beyond the years they spent in office.
It's not an easy chair to sit in, especially given the usual crew of greedy stooges in Congress he is forced to work with.
Peace? It can only come from the I Am.
Try to take a mini-sabbatical from the news.
Take a walk instead, don't pick up a paper or read any news on the Net.
See a funny movie (maybe the Pink Panther II, it looks hysterical!)
Do something silly with your kids, or if you are ancient as I am, my lovely wife.
We plan on doing that this weekend.
"My peace I give to you."
I am claiming that promise, and will do my part to actually accept it day to day.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Little Sounds.
We are surrounded by them, but our brains normally tune out familiar sounds.
My wife quietly talking to Bonnie as she puts on her leash for her morning walk.
The almost imperceptable ticking of the timer that controls the lamp in my office.
The refrigerator cycling on and off, my Uncle's Mantle clock's tick-tock.
Even the twice hourly chime escapes our notice unless we still ourselves and concentrate.
My Mac's very slight purr as the hard drive spins, and my crazy Labrador Csonk as he
amuses himself on the back deck by crashing into the house as he chases his favorite sqeaky ball.
Old houses are filled with them, some only in our memories.
When I am fortunate enough to go to the farmhouse on our ancestral place in WV I am almost overwhelmed with them.
Early in the morning I can still hear my grandfather Harvey slam the screen door as he shuffles onto the porch for a hand rolled cigarette.
A lifetime of rising well before dawn himself gave him little sympathy for those who "Slept all day" In his estimation that was sleeping until the sun was up.
The hardening of the arteries in his legs gave him a distinctive shuffling gait.
I can still hear it on the wood floors in the old house he and my father built by hand in 1938.
And I can still hear my father's forceful and purposeful stride, and his vain attempts to quiet his father. "Pap, they don't need to get up at 5:30, they're kids!"
I can hear my dear Aunt Bee clattering around in the kitchen, cooking up breakfast, or a pie made with apples grown right behind the house.
A pie just for my father, and for me. Her boys.
"Did you have enough to eat?" she was always asking. I can still hear her voice in the house.
She was personally affronted to see any man in her kitchen.
We weren't supposed to cook or clean up. It was her joy to do that for us.
And I can hear silly laughter in the house.
My sisters and I trying to see how much trouble we could get into.
And how far we could push our mother before she lost it and told us to go outside and play.
I hear her voice there also.
All sounds aren't necessarily good, but part of the saga that is our lives.
My Aunt Rosalie storming into the place on Saturday morning, fussing about everything.
"This place is a pig's sty, don't you ever clean up, Bernice!"
My saintly Uncle Willard, whom we called Uncle Junior quietly trying to get her to behave.
"Now shug, let's just have a cup of coffee and enjoy the kids."
A decorated and seriously wounded WWII U.S. Army vet, he had to exercise great patience to live with my Aunt for the Forty years they were married.
He was always kind and gentle, and happy to play a board game with us or go for a hike.
Just as quickly as it began, the whirlwind that was my Aunt would sweep into their car about four in the afternoon and head back to Oak Hill.
Even my Grandad breathed a sigh of relief.
"Be still, and know that I am God!" we are warned.
There is not enough stillness in the world today.
My wife quietly talking to Bonnie as she puts on her leash for her morning walk.
The almost imperceptable ticking of the timer that controls the lamp in my office.
The refrigerator cycling on and off, my Uncle's Mantle clock's tick-tock.
Even the twice hourly chime escapes our notice unless we still ourselves and concentrate.
My Mac's very slight purr as the hard drive spins, and my crazy Labrador Csonk as he
amuses himself on the back deck by crashing into the house as he chases his favorite sqeaky ball.
Old houses are filled with them, some only in our memories.
When I am fortunate enough to go to the farmhouse on our ancestral place in WV I am almost overwhelmed with them.
Early in the morning I can still hear my grandfather Harvey slam the screen door as he shuffles onto the porch for a hand rolled cigarette.
A lifetime of rising well before dawn himself gave him little sympathy for those who "Slept all day" In his estimation that was sleeping until the sun was up.
The hardening of the arteries in his legs gave him a distinctive shuffling gait.
I can still hear it on the wood floors in the old house he and my father built by hand in 1938.
And I can still hear my father's forceful and purposeful stride, and his vain attempts to quiet his father. "Pap, they don't need to get up at 5:30, they're kids!"
I can hear my dear Aunt Bee clattering around in the kitchen, cooking up breakfast, or a pie made with apples grown right behind the house.
A pie just for my father, and for me. Her boys.
"Did you have enough to eat?" she was always asking. I can still hear her voice in the house.
She was personally affronted to see any man in her kitchen.
We weren't supposed to cook or clean up. It was her joy to do that for us.
And I can hear silly laughter in the house.
My sisters and I trying to see how much trouble we could get into.
And how far we could push our mother before she lost it and told us to go outside and play.
I hear her voice there also.
All sounds aren't necessarily good, but part of the saga that is our lives.
My Aunt Rosalie storming into the place on Saturday morning, fussing about everything.
"This place is a pig's sty, don't you ever clean up, Bernice!"
My saintly Uncle Willard, whom we called Uncle Junior quietly trying to get her to behave.
"Now shug, let's just have a cup of coffee and enjoy the kids."
A decorated and seriously wounded WWII U.S. Army vet, he had to exercise great patience to live with my Aunt for the Forty years they were married.
He was always kind and gentle, and happy to play a board game with us or go for a hike.
Just as quickly as it began, the whirlwind that was my Aunt would sweep into their car about four in the afternoon and head back to Oak Hill.
Even my Grandad breathed a sigh of relief.
"Be still, and know that I am God!" we are warned.
There is not enough stillness in the world today.
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