Come and Take It!

A very well intentioned member of my extended family contacted me the other day to tell me that she had "heard" (on Facebook) that there was a threat of harm to soldiers' families from our so very porous borders down south and that I might consider taking my stickers off my car, taking the sign down from my yard, and removing the flag from my front door that signifies that this home is the home of one with family on active duty with the military. This alleged threat had been corroborated by a friend of her coworker, whose daughter was in the military and had asked her parents to take the yellow ribbon down from the front of their house. I thanked her for her concern and said I would look into it and I followed through. What I could discern from the few credible resources I could find was that back in early September there had been "chatter" about a possible threat to Fort Bliss (in El Paso) from our southern border. I found nothing else to substantiate any threat (outside of the average everyday threat from so many illegals freely crossing our borders). I called this person on the phone and told her that I did not feel that there was any threat that would warrant the actions she recommended but I thanked her for her concern for my well being. I told her that a similar subject had come up in our Bible study group about how, in the last days, we will be required to take the mark of the beast or be slaughtered. The question was posed, would God be OK with someone taking the mark of the beast but rationalizing that, "God knows my heart and He knows that I am a believer. Surely He will understand it to be the better part of valor to survive and fight from within to destroy Satan and his armies." Uhhhh . . . . hmmmm . . . . yeah . . . NO!!! And just, NO!! The parallel notwithstanding, the more I thought about it, the madder I got. NO, hell NO, I will NOT take down my Proud Army Mom stickers, nor will I even consider removing all the outward and visible signs that I am proud to have my son serving in this United States Army. Not now, not ever. Not in this land of the free and home of the brave. If I die standing up to say I am proud of my son and his service to this country, so be it. Far too many have given their lives for the freedom we have in this country and I will never, EVER, allow myself to be intimidated by such threats. I will say it loud and say it proud. I am an American and I have the right to stand up and be proud of my son and proclaim the honor of his service. I know that my son’s family: natural, extended, steps, halves, in-laws, outlaws, and every other kind are ALL in support of his service, and as proud as they can possibly be of him, just as I am. I guess I am just rebel enough to not be so easily intimidated. That is all.

Come and take it!

Ok, I'm pissed off again so I shall employ this platform for my rant! Let me describe a scenario and I ask you, my dear readers, to keep an open mind. Person B is in the act of obeying the law. Person A comes along and wants to break the law. Why, oh please explain to me why, Person B should feel any obligation or duty to enable, facilitate, or otherwise assist Person A to break the very law that Person B is obeying. Logic would dictate that the premise is ludicrous at best! Ponder the scenario thusly: Person B and Person A are walking down the street, when A decides that he wants to knock off the liquor store on the corner. Given the parameters of the described scenario, B would be expected to be an accomplice, simply by virtue of his geographical placement near A. Seems silly right? Oh but apply that kind of twisted logic to a freeway, where law-abiding B is driving the posted speed limit in the left lane of the freeway because there are so many slower drivers in the other lanes. Here comes A (which clearly stands for asshole!) running right up on the bumper of B, flashing his brights and even honking his horn because, after all, the whole world should know how important A is, right? So please, by all that is holy, explain to me why I am expected to move over and allow the asshole to fly past me while I am driving at the posted speed limit. Why should I be inconvenienced by having to change lanes just so some jerk can exceed the speed limit? Lane changes are inherently more dangerous than driving within a single lane, so by expecting the law abiding driver to move out of the way exposes him/her to greater risk of a collision, while the speeder proceeds safely on his/her way. Logic? Out the window! Fairness? Non-existent! The only intelligent, logical conclusion is that if you are driving at the posted speed limit, and some asshole comes up behind you, let the asshole go around you if he wants to speed. A law-abiding driver should never be expected to make it easier for another driver to break the law. Period. End of story.

(I thought I had already posted this here but apparently it was overlooked. So, now, just because I wanted to, here it is.) I had completed a task at my job yesterday (October 2013) and I was silently admiring my work when irony descended upon me. Damned irony and its smug ass self! I began to laugh one of those big belly laughs but I knew it was simply a ruse to keep the tears at bay. The company owner had ordered some marketing postcards to send to her list of contacts in honor of Thanksgiving. Along with the obligatory marketing catch phrases, she had included her family recipe for pecan pie. The fallibility of Spell Check notwithstanding, when her recipe came to the point where the recipe directed to “pour the mixture into a prepared pie crust,” all 250 of her postcards read, “ . . . pied crust.” In toying with different plans to rescue the project, I discovered that the printing was fresh enough to sit gingerly on top of the heavy card stock and could simply be scraped off: brilliantly simple, right? Plus, the finished repair job was so effective that one would have to really look closely to even notice that there was anything at all that was ever amiss. Doing so however, required a very sharp knife or razor blade, a steady hand, and a gentle touch, so as not to mar the card stock. One little mis-scrape of the blade, and there went the darned e at the end of pie. So I had sat for two days scraping my big fat ass off and I was so proud that I had salvaged what would have been either a waste of the company’s marketing dollars or worse, the damage to the image of the company that couldn’t even spell pie. Yep, it was a job well done, no doubt. Then . . . irony, damn you! Not so very long ago, I remember a time when being proud my work or having a sense of accomplishment about my job meant something very different. I have always taken pride in my work. Back in the day though . . . if I had done a really good job it meant that someone’s family was made to feel more comfortable, or a really sick person’s pain was relieved, or that a critical change in condition was reported to the doctor so that the right treatment could be given. Dammit, I literally saved people’s lives!!! I made a difference in someone’s life because I kept a mother from dying too soon or I gave someone another five years or ten years with a loved one. Good God, my work was an extremely meaningful contribution to the world and to humanity. So I laughed because I was proud of scraping a “d” off of 250 pieces of what most people were going to consider junk mail. How horribly pathetic is that?

Thoughts about and for my kids

My trip to Washington to greet Matthew as he returned from Afghanistan was amazing. It was a great weight from my shoulders to see him back on US soil, safe and sound. It was not until I had arrived at the relative isolation and anonymity of my Barbie-doll seat on the return flight however, that the tears came. They were both an uninvited guest and a somewhat welcome release. I did my best not to cast that blubbery cloud on the limited time I had to visit. I wanted it to be a happy visit and it was. The overwhelming sadness I felt was almost too much to bear. I told myself that I was sad because it felt like my family was breaking apart. From there, I traveled to the land of empty nests where one is allowed to mourn for the fleeting years of their childhoods now long gone. The evolution of my progeny from infancy to their current state of independent adulthood is acceptable as it is the expected and desired outcome-the payoff for all those turbulent years of rearing. There is a large measure of satisfaction in seeing them achieve adulthood. So why the sadness? Well, the very independence that I so determinedly passed on to them has now taken over and they are all forging their paths through the world. And this is a problem because . . . ? Aha, the bitter truth emerges: their independence forces me to face my own mortality. So, dear children, are you listening? Pay attention now and hear me well. I implore you - each of you - do NOT allow that Vera Jo gene to invade. It is the very devil - SATAN himself!! No matter what, you can never, ever, turn your back and walk away from your family! In the end, what do any of us have anyway? Family is all that we have. We come into this world with a family and we go out the same way. Nothing else is as important as your family. They are the ones who love you even when you don't want them to. They love you even when they, themselves, don't want to. Don't believe it if anyone says any differently. Do your best to stay within one day's road trip from each other. Your life may depend on it! Really!! You will be so glad you did. Kids need their cousins. Think about it - James, Katherine, Michelle, Kelly, Jennifer, Jason; and don't forget Tammy and Tiffany; Rhiannon, Stephanie, and Jeremy' Stephen and Ramona. Don't you all wish you'd had more opportunities to be together? I know you do. Remember all those times when Jennifer and Tiffany would come and stay with us and the times we went on road trips together? Great fun, good times, wonderful memories, right? Don't deprive your children of memories like those!! They are priceless treasures and worth more than you could ever imagine! You all have the foundation that you need to do well in life. How you all arrived there is a mystery to me-I take no credit whatsoever. Nature vs. nurture is the age old debate, but the debate notwithstanding, I have always believed that people become what they become either because of their environment or in spite of it, and usually some combination thereof. As each of you continues on your individual journey, know that I am extremely proud of you all and I feel particularly blessed that God placed each of you in my life. Take a moment to reflect and you will discover that, individually as well as collectively, you are making your own unique and worthy contributions to society. Never sell yourselves short!