I just returned from two days in Portland, Oregon, at Oregon Health Sciences University. I was being evaluated as a potential recipient of a kidney transplant. The first day was spent doing lots of medical tests and speaking with a counselor about my living situation and mental health. The second day was spent learning about kidney transplants and speaking with a dietitian about my diet and some of the restrictions I would face if I received a transplant. Then there were the doctors. A complete medical history, a physical, and discussion of my current medications. The listing of prior illness, surgery, and medical treatments took forever. That was before the Boss Doc came in to deliver the bad news.
I did not get good feedback about my chances to get a transplant. I did not hear "No" exactly. I did hear that the possibility was very low, given my health history and 40 years of Type 1 diabetes and its complications. I heard a list of reasons why I would not be a good candidate for transplant, enough that I have accepted the denial, even before the official letter arrives in about ten days.
I cried at first. I felt the door close, a whoosh of air, a thump of pressure. My husband hugged me, helped me pick up my stuff: the paperwork, the folder of materials they gave me, my purse stuffed with even more papers. We left the office and went to the car. By then, I was better. I knew what my options were. Dialysis or not.
When my body demands dialysis, I have a couple of choices in type of procedure. I believe I will choose hemodialysis in a center and possibly later I can do home hemodialysis. Or I could choose no treatment. The result of that would be a slow relatively painless death. I think I want to live, even if I have to undergo dialysis. I am not entirely certain of that yet.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
A Celebrity In Our Midst
We at Twitter are all aflutter because Keith Olbermann, host of Countdown with Keith Olbermann on MSNBC, is now tweeting, and he has actually followed some of our friends. We're like high school girls again. Even the guys are like high school girls. We talk among ourselves about who KO is following, and we tweet him, hoping to catch his attention and get a response if not a follow.
I sent him one tweet that was especially good, I thought. I said I was getting wiser in my old rage. Isn't that cute? Well, KO didn't respond, but then what can you expect from a guy with 39,000+ followers, all tweeting him hoping he will pick the one tweet that is really great, and it will be yours? KO is shorthand for Keith Olbermann, if you didn't figure that out. I was not talking about KOing someone, but that would be a good bite -- to KO KO with a great tweet! I should send that one to him.
You have to understand Twitter to really get this. Every 140 words or less has the potential to grab someone and cause them to interact with you. Eventually you develop a group of friends who interact with you regularly and at least read what you are saying. To be heard is the key to your Twitter identity, and if you can count some influential tweeters among your friends, then you have Klout. No, that is not mispelled. It is a program that measures your influence among your Twitter friends. My Klout score is 67, which is pretty high. I have some cool friends. Celebrities, if you will, on Twitter.
That's the thing. Who is a celebrity on Twitter? Well, there is Rachel Maddow, and Roger Ebert, and then there are a bunch of real-life celebrities that I don't follow because they don't say anything meaningful to me. I have my local celebrities. I think Shoq and Karoli and GottaLaff and OTOOLEFAN and whisper1111 and cynthiaboaz are pretty cool. If you want to see who KO is following, go to this link: http://twitter.com/KeithOlbermann/following. You won't find me there, but I am going to send him a link to this post, just in case.
I sent him one tweet that was especially good, I thought. I said I was getting wiser in my old rage. Isn't that cute? Well, KO didn't respond, but then what can you expect from a guy with 39,000+ followers, all tweeting him hoping he will pick the one tweet that is really great, and it will be yours? KO is shorthand for Keith Olbermann, if you didn't figure that out. I was not talking about KOing someone, but that would be a good bite -- to KO KO with a great tweet! I should send that one to him.
You have to understand Twitter to really get this. Every 140 words or less has the potential to grab someone and cause them to interact with you. Eventually you develop a group of friends who interact with you regularly and at least read what you are saying. To be heard is the key to your Twitter identity, and if you can count some influential tweeters among your friends, then you have Klout. No, that is not mispelled. It is a program that measures your influence among your Twitter friends. My Klout score is 67, which is pretty high. I have some cool friends. Celebrities, if you will, on Twitter.
That's the thing. Who is a celebrity on Twitter? Well, there is Rachel Maddow, and Roger Ebert, and then there are a bunch of real-life celebrities that I don't follow because they don't say anything meaningful to me. I have my local celebrities. I think Shoq and Karoli and GottaLaff and OTOOLEFAN and whisper1111 and cynthiaboaz are pretty cool. If you want to see who KO is following, go to this link: http://twitter.com/KeithOlbermann/following. You won't find me there, but I am going to send him a link to this post, just in case.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Paean for my mother
My mother died on this date, April 6th, 18 years ago. She was 74, and the cause of her death was congestive heart failure. Her heart was overburdened, with fluid, with age, with years of work, with lack of money, with taking care of everything. But her heart was not overburdened with love. She had the capacity of the Alpha and the Omega to love. No end to it, no boundary for it, no edges. She loved. Emphatically!
Her name was Mary Irene Phyllis Bisbee McElfresh, and she was born on April 13, 1917, at home on Indian land in Oklahoma. Her mother, Lucinda, and father, Lewis, were farmers. She attended elementary school until 1930, when she and her siblings stopped school to work, the family needing all able workers to survive the Great Depression.
During the Depression, Irene grew and sold vegetables, hewed logs into railroad ties, taught school, and waited tables. She was a short pretty woman with dark hair. When she was in her twenties, she worked in a war factory, a Rosie Riviter of a sort, during the 1940s. Her sister, Letha, introduced her to my father, M. K. McElfresh. MK was a wild kind of guy, good looking, black curly hair, blue eyes, tall. He and Irene were married and four years later, I was born.
I am an only child. Mom had a hard time with her pregnancy and was never able to have any more children. I am fortunate I was born a female because my male name was decided in advance: Abraham Lewis McElfresh. Luckily at the last minute I came out a girl and was spared that horrible moniker.
My dad had the knack of making money. He owned property in Kansas, winning fields and farms at cards. He owned a Chevrolet/Cadillac/John Deere agency and supplied cars, trucks, and farm equipment to Western Kansans. He owned a line of trucks that hauled livestock and agriculture. And he gambled and drank the money away as fast as he made it.
For most of my childhood, I was privileged. I had music teachers and vacations in Denver and early education at home. My mom taught me herself. In addition to writing and math, she taught me to cook and sew and gave me her love of reading and music. We did almost everything together, from listening to opera on phonograph records to planting the garden and canning the tomatoes. I can recall few childhood memories that do not include my mother.
There were some difficult times with my father because of his drinking. Eventually, as he squandered the money and drank away his senses, Mom decided to leave him. When I was twelve, we loaded our Chevy station wagon and left Kansas for Arkansas, where her parents lived. At 46 years old, my mom became an poor single mother.
I was not an easy teenager. I was a spoiled brat to be blunt. I expected to get what I wanted when I wanted it, and I lied constantly about my activities. My mom worked as a practical nurse at the local hospital. She also took extra shifts looking after private patients. Sixty to eighty hours a week were her norm. Usually she worked nights and slept while I was at high school. I did well in school and did what I wanted while she was at work.
I was married when I was eighteen. My mother was supportive as always, even if she didn't think it would last, and she was right. It didn't last. She was disappointed I didn't finish college then. But Mom never let my personal choices affect her love for me. She was there for me, all the way. I knew I could count on her. And I did. Believe me, I counted on her so many times in my life. Like most children, I needed my mom.
I had children later in life just as she did. My twins were born when I was 33. Mom was there, helping, loving, approving, supporting. She was my tall timber, my main sail. I went back to college, had a heart attack, went to work. As I think back, I don't recall a single time in my life when I needed her and she wasn't there. Can you imagine having a constant like that? Someone who never failed you?
Mom wasn't a healthy person, but she kept going. She had myasthenia gravis, cancer of the parathyroids, rheumatoid arthritis, crushed legs from an accident with a drunk driver, injuries from an accident with a freight train, and somehow she came back from all that to her last job walking around town visiting retired people in their homes.
Mom began to fail about the time the girls entered first grade. Her big heart was having a hard time supporting her little body. Eventually she had to be hospitalized and before she could be transferred to an "old age home," a prospect she dreaded, she died. My two cousins Melanie and Georgia Lea and my Aunt Jean came out to help with the funeral and closing up her apartment.
I couldn't deal with it. I closed down emotionally and did only what I had to do. I didn't cry. We took her ashes to the Oregon Coast to a place called Seal Rock where we had often gone for picnics. Mom loved the coast, clam chowder, crab, seashells, the salt air. Once she tried to talk a sailor out of a King Crab and she almost got him to give it to her! I can't go back to Seal Rock yet.
The girls were seven and devastated at the loss of their grandma. Did I mention she was the best grandma in the whole wide world? She was the Best, capital B. I wish she had lived longer to see how wonderfully they turned out. Both are strong and talented and beautiful and incredibly intelligent. But then you knew they would. After all, there's a lot of her in them. And there is a lot of her in me. We look alike. God, I miss her.
Her name was Mary Irene Phyllis Bisbee McElfresh, and she was born on April 13, 1917, at home on Indian land in Oklahoma. Her mother, Lucinda, and father, Lewis, were farmers. She attended elementary school until 1930, when she and her siblings stopped school to work, the family needing all able workers to survive the Great Depression.
During the Depression, Irene grew and sold vegetables, hewed logs into railroad ties, taught school, and waited tables. She was a short pretty woman with dark hair. When she was in her twenties, she worked in a war factory, a Rosie Riviter of a sort, during the 1940s. Her sister, Letha, introduced her to my father, M. K. McElfresh. MK was a wild kind of guy, good looking, black curly hair, blue eyes, tall. He and Irene were married and four years later, I was born.
I am an only child. Mom had a hard time with her pregnancy and was never able to have any more children. I am fortunate I was born a female because my male name was decided in advance: Abraham Lewis McElfresh. Luckily at the last minute I came out a girl and was spared that horrible moniker.
My dad had the knack of making money. He owned property in Kansas, winning fields and farms at cards. He owned a Chevrolet/Cadillac/John Deere agency and supplied cars, trucks, and farm equipment to Western Kansans. He owned a line of trucks that hauled livestock and agriculture. And he gambled and drank the money away as fast as he made it.
For most of my childhood, I was privileged. I had music teachers and vacations in Denver and early education at home. My mom taught me herself. In addition to writing and math, she taught me to cook and sew and gave me her love of reading and music. We did almost everything together, from listening to opera on phonograph records to planting the garden and canning the tomatoes. I can recall few childhood memories that do not include my mother.
There were some difficult times with my father because of his drinking. Eventually, as he squandered the money and drank away his senses, Mom decided to leave him. When I was twelve, we loaded our Chevy station wagon and left Kansas for Arkansas, where her parents lived. At 46 years old, my mom became an poor single mother.
I was not an easy teenager. I was a spoiled brat to be blunt. I expected to get what I wanted when I wanted it, and I lied constantly about my activities. My mom worked as a practical nurse at the local hospital. She also took extra shifts looking after private patients. Sixty to eighty hours a week were her norm. Usually she worked nights and slept while I was at high school. I did well in school and did what I wanted while she was at work.
I was married when I was eighteen. My mother was supportive as always, even if she didn't think it would last, and she was right. It didn't last. She was disappointed I didn't finish college then. But Mom never let my personal choices affect her love for me. She was there for me, all the way. I knew I could count on her. And I did. Believe me, I counted on her so many times in my life. Like most children, I needed my mom.
I had children later in life just as she did. My twins were born when I was 33. Mom was there, helping, loving, approving, supporting. She was my tall timber, my main sail. I went back to college, had a heart attack, went to work. As I think back, I don't recall a single time in my life when I needed her and she wasn't there. Can you imagine having a constant like that? Someone who never failed you?
Mom wasn't a healthy person, but she kept going. She had myasthenia gravis, cancer of the parathyroids, rheumatoid arthritis, crushed legs from an accident with a drunk driver, injuries from an accident with a freight train, and somehow she came back from all that to her last job walking around town visiting retired people in their homes.
Mom began to fail about the time the girls entered first grade. Her big heart was having a hard time supporting her little body. Eventually she had to be hospitalized and before she could be transferred to an "old age home," a prospect she dreaded, she died. My two cousins Melanie and Georgia Lea and my Aunt Jean came out to help with the funeral and closing up her apartment.
I couldn't deal with it. I closed down emotionally and did only what I had to do. I didn't cry. We took her ashes to the Oregon Coast to a place called Seal Rock where we had often gone for picnics. Mom loved the coast, clam chowder, crab, seashells, the salt air. Once she tried to talk a sailor out of a King Crab and she almost got him to give it to her! I can't go back to Seal Rock yet.
The girls were seven and devastated at the loss of their grandma. Did I mention she was the best grandma in the whole wide world? She was the Best, capital B. I wish she had lived longer to see how wonderfully they turned out. Both are strong and talented and beautiful and incredibly intelligent. But then you knew they would. After all, there's a lot of her in them. And there is a lot of her in me. We look alike. God, I miss her.
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Klu Klux Klan: Outlawed by the Republican Party
Did you know that Republicans outlawed the Klu Klux Klan? The Republican Party website says they did.
Maybe someone should tell the KKK they are in direct opposition to the will of the Republican Party. And the Democratic Party. And the law? Well, they do have the right of free speech and free assembly. As long as they don't commit hate crimes, promote sedition, bear illegal arms, commit arson, all those fun KKK things they like to do.
For more fun times, visit the GOP website above and see what else they did, including establishing the first transcontinental railroad, freeing the slaves, establishing the federal highway system, and passing the 1964 Civil Rights Act. I didn't list all the claimed Republican accomplishments - just a sample. I did note that the last accomplishment listed was in 2004 with the creation of a voucher system for D. C. school children.
This is 2010. Six years and no more accomplishments? What about bankrupting the country? What about torturing citizens of other countries at a naval base in Cuba (among other locations)? What about ripping constitutional protections from U. S. citizens? What about destroying America's reputation overseas? Didn't want to claim those "accomplishments," eh? Or maybe your webmaster just hasn't gotten around to that yet.
#justaskin
In 1871, the Republican-controlled 42nd Congress passed a Civil Rights Act aimed at the Ku Klux Klan. Guilty of murdering hundreds of African-Americans, this terrorist organization had also eradicated the Republican Party throughout most of the South. The law empowered the Republican administration of Ulysses Grant to protect the civil rights of the former slaves in federal court, bypassing the Democrat-controlled state courts.
The 1871 Civil Rights Act, along with the GOP’s 1870 Civil Rights Act, effectively banned the Klan and enabled Republican officials to arrest hundreds of Klansmen. Though the U.S. Supreme Court would eventually strike down most of the 1871 Civil Rights Act, the Ku Klux Klan was crushed. The KKK did not rise again until the Democratic administration of President Woodrow Wilson.
Maybe someone should tell the KKK they are in direct opposition to the will of the Republican Party. And the Democratic Party. And the law? Well, they do have the right of free speech and free assembly. As long as they don't commit hate crimes, promote sedition, bear illegal arms, commit arson, all those fun KKK things they like to do.
For more fun times, visit the GOP website above and see what else they did, including establishing the first transcontinental railroad, freeing the slaves, establishing the federal highway system, and passing the 1964 Civil Rights Act. I didn't list all the claimed Republican accomplishments - just a sample. I did note that the last accomplishment listed was in 2004 with the creation of a voucher system for D. C. school children.
This is 2010. Six years and no more accomplishments? What about bankrupting the country? What about torturing citizens of other countries at a naval base in Cuba (among other locations)? What about ripping constitutional protections from U. S. citizens? What about destroying America's reputation overseas? Didn't want to claim those "accomplishments," eh? Or maybe your webmaster just hasn't gotten around to that yet.
#justaskin
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The Help: A Book Review
Kathryn Stockett's first book, The Help, has been a New York Times bestseller for 50 weeks for good reason: it's the story of three women in 1962 Jackson, Mississippi, who are redefining themselves in response to the social and political events of that time. Two of the women are black maids and one is a white college graduate.
I quickly identified with Skeeter, the young white woman, and her discomfort with 60's Deep South customs. Skeeter feels helpless to do anythng, emotionally crippled by her mother's emphasis on marraige and Southern society. Skeeter earned a degree from Old Miss, but what use is it to a plain unmarried woman in Mississippi? She wants to be a journalist and gets a part-time job at the local paper writing a household hints column.
Skeeter knows nothing about keeping a house, having been raised by the family's black maid Constantine, who mysteriously disappeared while Skeeter was at college. She misses Constantine profoundly. Constantine was her mother in absentia, her encourager, her refuge. No one will tell her where Constantine went, or why. Skeeter's mother, a widow with whom she lives, keeps her mouth shut and refuses to discuss Constantine. Neither will any of her friends. This loss, and her new job, drives Skeeter to reach out to the community of black maids.
Needing help with the most basic questions that have been mailed to the newspaper, Skeeter turns to Abileen, her best friend's maid. Abileen is reluctant to get involved with this young white woman who shows up asking questions, first about how to get stains out of a shirt and next about what it's really like to work for white folks.
Skeeter wants to write a book. Eventually she convinces Abileen to talk to her, privately and secretly, at night, about life in the kitchen, serving the meals, raising the children. Skeeter writes to a publisher who expresses a slight interest, but demands more stories from more maids before considering the book.
Abileen recruits Minnie, her best friend and an outspoken person who continually gets fired for saying the wrong thing. Minnie, who has been treated terribly by Hilly, one of Skeeter's closest friends, is distrustful but decides to do it. The stories begin to flow, of the disrespect, abuse, and lies that the white women who hire these maids have done.
More black maids talk to Skeeter, meeting secretly at night at Abileen's house with Skeeter. The book becomes a community secret, kept as closely as the stories of what happens in the white houses. Abileen is not just the primary voice for the black maids. She is also the witness who sees and hears it all - like we the readers have become. Skeeter cannot go back to who she was before she started writing. She has heard, and is beginning to notice, the truth.
Skeeter's friends, Elizabeth, Celia, and Hilly, are the sometimes conscious villians of the story. Hilly and her hatred of Minnie are central to the plot. The stories told by the maids are stories from Skeeter's friends' homes. She tries to keep identities secret as whe writes, and Abileen helps her. Skeeter meets a man through one of her friends who seems to find her attractive. Skeeter's mother is overjoyed at the prospect of a potential marraige. The man, Stuart, is not strongly developed. His character is another reflection of society - this time from outside the house.
We readers know the book will be published. The stories told by the black maids are too big to stay unheard. We find out what happened to Constantine. We dread what will happen when women in Jackson, Mississippi, read the book. What we fear comes to pass. Skeeter is shunned. Maids are fired. But Minnie's action - the reason Hilly hates her - is the salvation. Read the book! It is an amazing story of a shameful time, and there is redemption in the truth.
I quickly identified with Skeeter, the young white woman, and her discomfort with 60's Deep South customs. Skeeter feels helpless to do anythng, emotionally crippled by her mother's emphasis on marraige and Southern society. Skeeter earned a degree from Old Miss, but what use is it to a plain unmarried woman in Mississippi? She wants to be a journalist and gets a part-time job at the local paper writing a household hints column.
Skeeter knows nothing about keeping a house, having been raised by the family's black maid Constantine, who mysteriously disappeared while Skeeter was at college. She misses Constantine profoundly. Constantine was her mother in absentia, her encourager, her refuge. No one will tell her where Constantine went, or why. Skeeter's mother, a widow with whom she lives, keeps her mouth shut and refuses to discuss Constantine. Neither will any of her friends. This loss, and her new job, drives Skeeter to reach out to the community of black maids.
Needing help with the most basic questions that have been mailed to the newspaper, Skeeter turns to Abileen, her best friend's maid. Abileen is reluctant to get involved with this young white woman who shows up asking questions, first about how to get stains out of a shirt and next about what it's really like to work for white folks.
Skeeter wants to write a book. Eventually she convinces Abileen to talk to her, privately and secretly, at night, about life in the kitchen, serving the meals, raising the children. Skeeter writes to a publisher who expresses a slight interest, but demands more stories from more maids before considering the book.
Abileen recruits Minnie, her best friend and an outspoken person who continually gets fired for saying the wrong thing. Minnie, who has been treated terribly by Hilly, one of Skeeter's closest friends, is distrustful but decides to do it. The stories begin to flow, of the disrespect, abuse, and lies that the white women who hire these maids have done.
More black maids talk to Skeeter, meeting secretly at night at Abileen's house with Skeeter. The book becomes a community secret, kept as closely as the stories of what happens in the white houses. Abileen is not just the primary voice for the black maids. She is also the witness who sees and hears it all - like we the readers have become. Skeeter cannot go back to who she was before she started writing. She has heard, and is beginning to notice, the truth.
Skeeter's friends, Elizabeth, Celia, and Hilly, are the sometimes conscious villians of the story. Hilly and her hatred of Minnie are central to the plot. The stories told by the maids are stories from Skeeter's friends' homes. She tries to keep identities secret as whe writes, and Abileen helps her. Skeeter meets a man through one of her friends who seems to find her attractive. Skeeter's mother is overjoyed at the prospect of a potential marraige. The man, Stuart, is not strongly developed. His character is another reflection of society - this time from outside the house.
We readers know the book will be published. The stories told by the black maids are too big to stay unheard. We find out what happened to Constantine. We dread what will happen when women in Jackson, Mississippi, read the book. What we fear comes to pass. Skeeter is shunned. Maids are fired. But Minnie's action - the reason Hilly hates her - is the salvation. Read the book! It is an amazing story of a shameful time, and there is redemption in the truth.
A favorite song by some of my favorite singers: I Believe in a Hill Called Mt. Calvary
This is a song called I Believe in a Hill Called Mt. Calvary by the Gaither Vocal Band. I especially love the tenors, especially David Phelps, the one with curly hair. Enjoy!
Monday, March 1, 2010
I love my life
I could make a list of complaints today, but instead I will make a list of praises. I love my life. I admit it. I am happy, perhaps happier than I have ever been.
I am fortunate to have a husband who loves and cares for me. He works very hard to keep shelter and food and heat and insurance and cars and fun going on in our lives. He takes out the garbage without me asking. He cleans the catbox. He feeds the animals. He does the laundry - really any job too strenuous for me. And he doesn't complain about it. Instead he tells me how much he loves his job and even when his body hurts, as it often does, he still gets up every morning ready to go.
Our twin daughters just turned 25. Our daughters are a constant pleasure. Both are wonderful, college-educated women with liberal political philosophies. One is married, the other is single. One is very healthy and the other less so, but you would never know it by anything they say or do. They are friends. They love me and their dad. They want to spend time with us and we with them. How many people can say that about their kids?
We have always had animals, at least as soon as we bought our own home and could make those decisions for ourselves. Currently, one dog and three cats live in our house. All are healthy and well-loved. They make my days enjoyable. There are a lot of things I can't do right now - getting outside much, walking around - but I have such a wonderful support system of loving pets. Now that I am retired on social security disability, I don't see as many people as I used to but I don't get lonely.
You may have read of my health concerns and wonder how I can say this is the best time of my life. I don't quite know how to explain it. It's true I have Type 1 diabetes, and the complicatins thereof. I have Level 4 renal failure and will soon go on dialysis. I have heart failure and had a quadruple bypass about ten years ago. I have peripheral vascular disease and had an artery bypass in my right leg, as well as a toe amputation. There's a few other things associated with diabetes that are acting up. But I am glad to say my vision is excellent.
So how can I saw this is the best time of my life? Bear with me. I must say this. It's because I have seen my future in the grace of God's loving forgiveness. I am a Christian and my faith gives me a peace that cannot be explained but must be experienced to understand. I know many of my readers have differing ideas about God, and I respect those differences. But my faith is key to my life. I truly believe, and I am assured of an eternity with Him.
I don't know what tomorrow holds. It could be that this is a momentary time of comfort, even luxury, in my life. I could lose everything ... everything. Would I still be able to say that this is the best time of my life? I sincerely hope so.
I am fortunate to have a husband who loves and cares for me. He works very hard to keep shelter and food and heat and insurance and cars and fun going on in our lives. He takes out the garbage without me asking. He cleans the catbox. He feeds the animals. He does the laundry - really any job too strenuous for me. And he doesn't complain about it. Instead he tells me how much he loves his job and even when his body hurts, as it often does, he still gets up every morning ready to go.
Our twin daughters just turned 25. Our daughters are a constant pleasure. Both are wonderful, college-educated women with liberal political philosophies. One is married, the other is single. One is very healthy and the other less so, but you would never know it by anything they say or do. They are friends. They love me and their dad. They want to spend time with us and we with them. How many people can say that about their kids?
We have always had animals, at least as soon as we bought our own home and could make those decisions for ourselves. Currently, one dog and three cats live in our house. All are healthy and well-loved. They make my days enjoyable. There are a lot of things I can't do right now - getting outside much, walking around - but I have such a wonderful support system of loving pets. Now that I am retired on social security disability, I don't see as many people as I used to but I don't get lonely.
You may have read of my health concerns and wonder how I can say this is the best time of my life. I don't quite know how to explain it. It's true I have Type 1 diabetes, and the complicatins thereof. I have Level 4 renal failure and will soon go on dialysis. I have heart failure and had a quadruple bypass about ten years ago. I have peripheral vascular disease and had an artery bypass in my right leg, as well as a toe amputation. There's a few other things associated with diabetes that are acting up. But I am glad to say my vision is excellent.
So how can I saw this is the best time of my life? Bear with me. I must say this. It's because I have seen my future in the grace of God's loving forgiveness. I am a Christian and my faith gives me a peace that cannot be explained but must be experienced to understand. I know many of my readers have differing ideas about God, and I respect those differences. But my faith is key to my life. I truly believe, and I am assured of an eternity with Him.
I don't know what tomorrow holds. It could be that this is a momentary time of comfort, even luxury, in my life. I could lose everything ... everything. Would I still be able to say that this is the best time of my life? I sincerely hope so.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Tsunami Watching
We are an international community of LookyLoos, slowing down to look at a disaster from a safe, yet still visceral, distance. I don't even need CNN to do it. I can watch Hawaii TV stations on my computer and see the little tsunami waves rush out and rush back in, with white water for special effects. I am slightly nauseated by this whole spectacle.
By spectacle, I don't mean the tsunami in Hawaii or the earthquake in Chile. I don't even mean the devastation in Haiti, the snowpocalypse in DC, the fires in California, the Mississippi floods, or whatever other natural disaster occurs across the globe. By spectacle, I mean the way we act: looking for death and collapse, being ever so slightly disappointed if nothing much happens.
I don't mean that nothing much is happening to the victims of natural disaster. Their worlds are being devastated. And we watch. Some people are into helping, folks like @watergatesummer and @lmzadi1, God bless these tweeps. Some are actively praying for those in need, like @Underdad. But most of us are watchers, deceiving ourselves that our tweets are meaningful.
I am condemning myself more than I condemn others. In all things, it is time for action. In natural disasters, we must donate money or volunteer at the Red Cross. In politics, we must also donate money, as well as make phone calls and sign petitions and call elected representatives and knock on doors and defend our point of view no matter how idiotic or reprehensable the attacks.
You see, there are only two things we can do. We can assent, or we can dissent. We can say "Aye" or we can say "Nay." There is no such thing as "Abstain." If we do not act, we are saying "Nay," and the result is...nothing.
By spectacle, I don't mean the tsunami in Hawaii or the earthquake in Chile. I don't even mean the devastation in Haiti, the snowpocalypse in DC, the fires in California, the Mississippi floods, or whatever other natural disaster occurs across the globe. By spectacle, I mean the way we act: looking for death and collapse, being ever so slightly disappointed if nothing much happens.
I don't mean that nothing much is happening to the victims of natural disaster. Their worlds are being devastated. And we watch. Some people are into helping, folks like @watergatesummer and @lmzadi1, God bless these tweeps. Some are actively praying for those in need, like @Underdad. But most of us are watchers, deceiving ourselves that our tweets are meaningful.
I am condemning myself more than I condemn others. In all things, it is time for action. In natural disasters, we must donate money or volunteer at the Red Cross. In politics, we must also donate money, as well as make phone calls and sign petitions and call elected representatives and knock on doors and defend our point of view no matter how idiotic or reprehensable the attacks.
You see, there are only two things we can do. We can assent, or we can dissent. We can say "Aye" or we can say "Nay." There is no such thing as "Abstain." If we do not act, we are saying "Nay," and the result is...nothing.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
February 25, 2010
Today was the health care summit when President Obama and congressional leaders gathered to discuss what to do about the stalled health care bill. No progress was made, except that President Obama and the Democrats finally accepted there is no middle ground, no negotiation, no desire to put the American people ahead of reelection fears.
At the end, President Obama signaled reconciliation is on the table. Finally! The Republicans will take their carping complaints to Fox News and any other media that will print them. The Democrats will be the target of Tea Party gatherings. And meaningful health care reform will pass by a simple majority in the Senate and the House. Later additional laws will be passed to finally create a single-payer system similar to Medicare for all.
There will soon come a day when President Obama will sign the legislation into law. That day will be celebrated, and Senator Harry Reid (the patient man) and Representative Nancy Pelosi (what a woman!) will get pens that President Obama used. We will get the assurance that pre-existing conditions cannot be denied coverage and that health insurance exchanges will make insurance affordable for most if not all Americans.
We have been waiting for the world to change and we should not forget this day for which we have clamoured: the day President Obama finally drew the line in the sand. February 25, 2010.
At the end, President Obama signaled reconciliation is on the table. Finally! The Republicans will take their carping complaints to Fox News and any other media that will print them. The Democrats will be the target of Tea Party gatherings. And meaningful health care reform will pass by a simple majority in the Senate and the House. Later additional laws will be passed to finally create a single-payer system similar to Medicare for all.
There will soon come a day when President Obama will sign the legislation into law. That day will be celebrated, and Senator Harry Reid (the patient man) and Representative Nancy Pelosi (what a woman!) will get pens that President Obama used. We will get the assurance that pre-existing conditions cannot be denied coverage and that health insurance exchanges will make insurance affordable for most if not all Americans.
We have been waiting for the world to change and we should not forget this day for which we have clamoured: the day President Obama finally drew the line in the sand. February 25, 2010.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Not a party I want to attend
I am a huge fan of tea parties. I love the little sandwiches, the chocolates, the Lady Grey. I wear a hat and decorate my table with ceramic chickens or old teapots. Ladies getting together to sip tea and chat as though we had nothing better to do in the afternoon. Admiring each other's hats and scarves and fans. Tea parties are a little girl's fantasy and an adult woman's escape.
How dare these right wing extremists co-opt the name "Tea Party" for their hateful, screaming, detestable get-togethers? That's really the most insignificant criticism I have of their national bowel movement. The gathering of extremes is magnetic to the unthinking and the stupid. Their hatred and distrust of government is unpatriotic, and the calls for gun violence are traitorous.
I do not oppose their right to criticize, but criticism with the motivation to destroy is completely unwarranted. Criticism is and always has been a means to build upon, not tear down. Maybe that's just my elitist college-educated brain speaking. I have learned some "critical" thinking skills, and that does not mean being critical of thinking. Critical thinking means learning how to see flaws in arguments and how to correct those errors in your own judgment.
That these people call themselves Patriots is unacceptable to me. That they believe our President, a constitutional lawyer, is trying to destroy the constitution is downright stupid, not ignorant. Ignorant people don't know any better. Stupid people know better and still do it. The leaders know patriotism means honoring your country, its leaders, and its defenders. But they still dishonor it. Stupid! Tea Partiers are as unpatriotic as flyers of the Confederate flag.
Traitors? Yes, Tea Partiers are that, too. We are in the midst of two wars. We have enemies that wish to destroy us through international and domestic terrorism. We have a Constitution and a Bill of Rights that are the foundation of our government, and they are under attack. Not by the status quo. No, the US government is not attempting to destroy itself. The Tea Party is attempting to destroy the US government, the President, and the federation itself. Their calls for guns and violence are traitorous. Also known as sedition, leading toward armed insurrection, the push of the Tea Party is toward the edge, and in any other time would be treated as criminal.
I am tired of these rag-tag ignoramuses filling our airwaves with their stupid, unpatriotic, traitorous words. I feel sometimes like I'm trudging through the mud, trying to get to the other side. This is not a Tea Party I wish to attend.
How dare these right wing extremists co-opt the name "Tea Party" for their hateful, screaming, detestable get-togethers? That's really the most insignificant criticism I have of their national bowel movement. The gathering of extremes is magnetic to the unthinking and the stupid. Their hatred and distrust of government is unpatriotic, and the calls for gun violence are traitorous.
I do not oppose their right to criticize, but criticism with the motivation to destroy is completely unwarranted. Criticism is and always has been a means to build upon, not tear down. Maybe that's just my elitist college-educated brain speaking. I have learned some "critical" thinking skills, and that does not mean being critical of thinking. Critical thinking means learning how to see flaws in arguments and how to correct those errors in your own judgment.
That these people call themselves Patriots is unacceptable to me. That they believe our President, a constitutional lawyer, is trying to destroy the constitution is downright stupid, not ignorant. Ignorant people don't know any better. Stupid people know better and still do it. The leaders know patriotism means honoring your country, its leaders, and its defenders. But they still dishonor it. Stupid! Tea Partiers are as unpatriotic as flyers of the Confederate flag.
Traitors? Yes, Tea Partiers are that, too. We are in the midst of two wars. We have enemies that wish to destroy us through international and domestic terrorism. We have a Constitution and a Bill of Rights that are the foundation of our government, and they are under attack. Not by the status quo. No, the US government is not attempting to destroy itself. The Tea Party is attempting to destroy the US government, the President, and the federation itself. Their calls for guns and violence are traitorous. Also known as sedition, leading toward armed insurrection, the push of the Tea Party is toward the edge, and in any other time would be treated as criminal.
I am tired of these rag-tag ignoramuses filling our airwaves with their stupid, unpatriotic, traitorous words. I feel sometimes like I'm trudging through the mud, trying to get to the other side. This is not a Tea Party I wish to attend.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Run, Sarah, Run
This amazing post by Angry Mouse on the Daily Kos is brilliant, and sums up Sarah Palin for me. Read, and enjoy!
Run, Sarah, Run
Posted using ShareThis
Run, Sarah, Run
Posted using ShareThis
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Olympics
I love the Olympics and have loved them since I was a little girl. My mother and I would watch them, from the Opening Ceremony to the Closing Ceremony. We watched everything: the bobsled, ski jumping, luge, curling, ice skating, all of it. We weren't just ice skating elitists. Oh no, we knew the names of the big stars in every event. Winter and summer, every four years.
I especially remember the Olympics because of my mom. She was interested in lots of things and gave me her love for them. Being with her, watching and talking about the events afterward, what memories! We watched all kinds of sports, not just the Olympics. I learned to enjoy golf and tennis and basketball and, of course, baseball. During school, I listened to the World Series with my transistor radio and earbuds. I was a Yankees fan and fell in love with Roger Maris, mainly because he was my Mom's favorite player.
My mom did homeschooling before the concept was invented. We lived in a very small town and all my friends started school before me. So my mom bought the textbooks for elementary school and taught me at home. I was reading when I was three. She hired a piano teacher when I was four. We studied comparative religion when I was five. And learned to swim. All because my mom did not accept the rules. Mom also taught me to love opera. She took me to museums and to plays. We read Shakespeare's plays out loud. She opened the world to me and gave me permission to explore it.
Mom didn't see why little girls shouldn't love sports. Mom didn't accept that a child had to be six years old before learning how to read and write. Mom knew that minds can be trained to be curious. Mom found a million ways to play rather than do housework. What a woman! So that's why I love the Olympics, and why my daughters love them, too.
I especially remember the Olympics because of my mom. She was interested in lots of things and gave me her love for them. Being with her, watching and talking about the events afterward, what memories! We watched all kinds of sports, not just the Olympics. I learned to enjoy golf and tennis and basketball and, of course, baseball. During school, I listened to the World Series with my transistor radio and earbuds. I was a Yankees fan and fell in love with Roger Maris, mainly because he was my Mom's favorite player.
My mom did homeschooling before the concept was invented. We lived in a very small town and all my friends started school before me. So my mom bought the textbooks for elementary school and taught me at home. I was reading when I was three. She hired a piano teacher when I was four. We studied comparative religion when I was five. And learned to swim. All because my mom did not accept the rules. Mom also taught me to love opera. She took me to museums and to plays. We read Shakespeare's plays out loud. She opened the world to me and gave me permission to explore it.
Mom didn't see why little girls shouldn't love sports. Mom didn't accept that a child had to be six years old before learning how to read and write. Mom knew that minds can be trained to be curious. Mom found a million ways to play rather than do housework. What a woman! So that's why I love the Olympics, and why my daughters love them, too.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Thoughts on a cool Monday morning
It's Monday, February 8th, 9:00 a.m. in the Pacific Northwest. The weather should be nice later, but right now it is Oregon gray. There should be a paint in that shade. People in the rest of the country would like the cool light gray-blue. Northwesterners would never buy it. Luckily my mood is not shady at all. It's a sunny pink day to me. I found out last night how many people care for me, and that makes every day sweeter, more golden.
A Twitter friend of mine posted a request for prayers and good thoughts for me because I'm having a surgical procedure in two days, and she understands the potential seriousness of that surgery. So many people responded. I was amazed that over 25 people tweeted me with one who said "A LOT of ppl care. You might be surprised how many do. You're a light in the world. We'll be waiting to hear you're okay." Wow! Thank you, Twitter!
The surgery is angioplasty to open three clots in my leg arteries. Angioplasty is an everyday procedure. However, I had an angioplasty over a year ago that didn't work because my arteries are badly damaged and couldn't handle the stent. The alternatives aren't great if it doesn't work. I don't have many extra veins in good enough shape for bypasses. I don't know if this procedure will work either, but I can always hope!
Another bright spot yesterday was my little dog Rags. I got her a little toy white lamb with a rattle inside. She chewed on it until I could have wrung dog spit out of it. She even took it to bed, hiding it in her special spot under the corner of the bed.
Rags had a bath last night. I wash her in the kitchen sink so I can use the sprayer to rinse the baby shampoo out of her fur. She does not enjoy baths but the little nut can get so dirty. My husband throws tennis balls in the back yard for her to fetch. Now she meets him at the door with a ball in her mouth. Can you tell we love our dog?
The Super Bowl was yesterday. It was low key at our house. I wish we had been at a Super Bowl party with lots of excited people. As it was, I tweeted, watched commercials, and was glad when New Orleans won. I didn't get into the Super Bowl this year, even though I love football.
The other great thing about Sunday was church. I love going to church, seeing friends, singing the songs, listening to the message. Our church is looking for a pastor, and the guest speaker we had might be "the one." He has a nice wife and a couple of teenagers. There were lots of microphone problems when he started, and he handled them with aplomb and humor. He had his message written out but he didn't appear to read it and often became conversational as he talked about his own life and how to "bear good fruit." My husband and I liked him.
After church, we have a time for fellowship. That means food. Yesterday was a celebration of birthdays and anniversaries. So many people brought cakes and cupcakes that some was even left over. There are about 70 regulars and around 30 children. It's nice to get to chat, catch up, relearn the kids' names and who their parents (or grandparents) are. Other Sundays are usually potlucks, soup and sandwiches, Mexican food, and so on. We come to know each other, not just recognize each other. The fellowship time is one of the reasons I love my church.
Next Saturday there will be a kids vs. old guys football game, and I am helping with the hot dogs. Again, food! See what I mean. Eating together somehow seals the friendships. Not having other people and traditional food around is probably why the Super Bowl was less important to me this year.
Sometimes people ask me why I believe in God, and how I can be a progressive politically and still be a Christian. I don't find the two incompatible. It's how I was raised. The two great commandments are important to me. I do love God, and I believe other people should be treated as I want to be treated. I believe in God because I cannot NOT believe. The complexity of creation belies randomness to me. When I consider the human body, the way bodily systems interact autonomically to sustain life; the mind and its abilities and potential; the functions of the muscles and tendons and bones to support the body's frame throughout decades of hard stresses, I just can't write that up to random evolution. And then when I consider nature, the uniqueness of different insects, the way species interact with one another, the universe and its possibilities, I believe. There must be a Creator.
Not that I don't think evolution makes sense. I see evidence of evolution and know that Adam didn't ride dinosaurs or that everything wasn't created 6,000 years ago. That's nonsense. The God who made the universe and nature also created a system of adaptation so that living creatures could survive change events. I just don't see the conflict that many Christians find between creation and science.
But it's Monday morning and I have a new week ahead of me. A surgery. Meals to plan and cook. Political issues to learn about and discuss. Friends to talk to. Now, it's time for more hot coffee! That's another thing that makes mornings great.
A Twitter friend of mine posted a request for prayers and good thoughts for me because I'm having a surgical procedure in two days, and she understands the potential seriousness of that surgery. So many people responded. I was amazed that over 25 people tweeted me with one who said "A LOT of ppl care. You might be surprised how many do. You're a light in the world. We'll be waiting to hear you're okay." Wow! Thank you, Twitter!
The surgery is angioplasty to open three clots in my leg arteries. Angioplasty is an everyday procedure. However, I had an angioplasty over a year ago that didn't work because my arteries are badly damaged and couldn't handle the stent. The alternatives aren't great if it doesn't work. I don't have many extra veins in good enough shape for bypasses. I don't know if this procedure will work either, but I can always hope!
Another bright spot yesterday was my little dog Rags. I got her a little toy white lamb with a rattle inside. She chewed on it until I could have wrung dog spit out of it. She even took it to bed, hiding it in her special spot under the corner of the bed.
Rags had a bath last night. I wash her in the kitchen sink so I can use the sprayer to rinse the baby shampoo out of her fur. She does not enjoy baths but the little nut can get so dirty. My husband throws tennis balls in the back yard for her to fetch. Now she meets him at the door with a ball in her mouth. Can you tell we love our dog?
The Super Bowl was yesterday. It was low key at our house. I wish we had been at a Super Bowl party with lots of excited people. As it was, I tweeted, watched commercials, and was glad when New Orleans won. I didn't get into the Super Bowl this year, even though I love football.
The other great thing about Sunday was church. I love going to church, seeing friends, singing the songs, listening to the message. Our church is looking for a pastor, and the guest speaker we had might be "the one." He has a nice wife and a couple of teenagers. There were lots of microphone problems when he started, and he handled them with aplomb and humor. He had his message written out but he didn't appear to read it and often became conversational as he talked about his own life and how to "bear good fruit." My husband and I liked him.
After church, we have a time for fellowship. That means food. Yesterday was a celebration of birthdays and anniversaries. So many people brought cakes and cupcakes that some was even left over. There are about 70 regulars and around 30 children. It's nice to get to chat, catch up, relearn the kids' names and who their parents (or grandparents) are. Other Sundays are usually potlucks, soup and sandwiches, Mexican food, and so on. We come to know each other, not just recognize each other. The fellowship time is one of the reasons I love my church.
Next Saturday there will be a kids vs. old guys football game, and I am helping with the hot dogs. Again, food! See what I mean. Eating together somehow seals the friendships. Not having other people and traditional food around is probably why the Super Bowl was less important to me this year.
Sometimes people ask me why I believe in God, and how I can be a progressive politically and still be a Christian. I don't find the two incompatible. It's how I was raised. The two great commandments are important to me. I do love God, and I believe other people should be treated as I want to be treated. I believe in God because I cannot NOT believe. The complexity of creation belies randomness to me. When I consider the human body, the way bodily systems interact autonomically to sustain life; the mind and its abilities and potential; the functions of the muscles and tendons and bones to support the body's frame throughout decades of hard stresses, I just can't write that up to random evolution. And then when I consider nature, the uniqueness of different insects, the way species interact with one another, the universe and its possibilities, I believe. There must be a Creator.
Not that I don't think evolution makes sense. I see evidence of evolution and know that Adam didn't ride dinosaurs or that everything wasn't created 6,000 years ago. That's nonsense. The God who made the universe and nature also created a system of adaptation so that living creatures could survive change events. I just don't see the conflict that many Christians find between creation and science.
But it's Monday morning and I have a new week ahead of me. A surgery. Meals to plan and cook. Political issues to learn about and discuss. Friends to talk to. Now, it's time for more hot coffee! That's another thing that makes mornings great.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
We found a dog
The other night, we found a white dog in our front yard. He came running up to us, asking for help. We checked him out, saw he was a male, had a green collar but no tags, and appeared to be about 25 pounds. He was so thirsty! He drank a lot of water and ate a little dog food. We put him in our fenced back yard to keep him safe. The poor fellow was so happy someone had found him.
We asked around the neighborhood but no one had lost a white dog. So next was Craigslist. We took pictures and posted an ad. By this time, I was halfway in love with this dog. Gosh, he was cute! What if the owners didn't respond? Could we keep him?
Then the owner showed up, happy that we had the dog. She explained that he had wandered off and found his way here because there were family friends in the area. The dog was really happy to see her! All ended well.
It's the flow of love that attracts me to animals. What dog owner hasn't felt the weight of the day slip away when their dog greets them at the door? What cat owner hasn't been surprised when their cat decides to cuddle? And what pet owner doesn't buy Christmas presents for their pets?
I know there are some people who do not love their animals. I do not understand them. I know animal shelters are overflowing with unwanted and often mistreated pets. And I also wish I could adopt all of them. I encourage anyone who reads this blog to bring an animal into your home. You will find your investment in your pet will create rewards that you can't imagine. Adopt a shelter pet and I guarantee you will feel the love start to flow.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Someone has to be the Mom
We are like a bunch of kids when we get together on Twitter! Everyone hollering, "look at me! look at me!" And then one of us holds up a bright shiny object and a cluster forms, each grabbing at it and adding our own squeals of delight. Sometimes we are like teenagers, sarcasm and irony dripping from our hoodies. Other times we are five-year-olds, giggling over the poop jokes and holding our noses when the poop is real.
Problem is, someone has to be the Mom. Mom has to make sure the stove is turned off and the china is put away. Mom has to pull us apart when we are scuffling and tell us to shush when we get too loud. Mom has to wash our hands when they are dirty and put bandages on our scraped knees. Mom has to be the grownup so the rest can have fun.
I get tired of being the Mom. So do a few other Moms on Twitter. Sometimes we want to laugh with you but we don't want the jokes to be mean. And we want to be critical without having to throw water balloons. Once in a while we want to be grownups having a serious conversation and other times we want to be kids, too. Just saying.
Problem is, someone has to be the Mom. Mom has to make sure the stove is turned off and the china is put away. Mom has to pull us apart when we are scuffling and tell us to shush when we get too loud. Mom has to wash our hands when they are dirty and put bandages on our scraped knees. Mom has to be the grownup so the rest can have fun.
I get tired of being the Mom. So do a few other Moms on Twitter. Sometimes we want to laugh with you but we don't want the jokes to be mean. And we want to be critical without having to throw water balloons. Once in a while we want to be grownups having a serious conversation and other times we want to be kids, too. Just saying.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
My problem with Christians
DISCLOSURE: I am a Christian. A long-time member and supporter of my church, Dayspring Fellowship in Eugene, Oregon, I taught a class called "Christianity 101" which covered how one becomes a Christian and the basic doctrines of Christianity. My husband is an ordained minister, the spiritual advisor of a large alcohol and drug treatment center, and an elder of our church. I have an investment in Christianity, so to speak, and my investment is looking bad.
When Jerry Falwell started the Moral Majority movement back in the late 70's, I was hesitant to support it. I quickly saw Christians cosigning with that "absolute" way of thinking. This was before email, but still the message was dissiminated at church meetings and casual get-togethers. Think alike. Think alike.
The force of Christian automotons began to move into the political landscape. Candidates for public office were "ours" or "not ours." I started keeping my mouth shut when I didn't agree because I didn't want this force to turn against me. I voted according to my conscience but I didn't speak out.
Eventually the Moral Majority expended itself, Falwell retired, and Pat Robertson and the Christian Coalition took charge. Robertson continued to promote the Think Alike version of Christianity, and his 700 Club took on the pretense of a news organization. Once more, I kept my mouth shut. I didn't stand up and openly disagree.
Now James Dobsen, Focus on the Family and The Family Research Council are the current rage, outspoken advocates for conservative "family values." They have every right to espouse their views, abhorrent as some of them are to me. But I greatly resent that I as a Christian am expected to agree with them. I must now raise my voice in objection to the tactics and fanatacism of the Christian right wing. As Christians, we are told to emulate Christ, but devotion to Christ does not include a slavish devotion to a political point of view.
It is the nature of Christians to work tirelessly on church projects and to engage in civic improvement. The right wing of American politics has taken advantage of this nature to redirect it toward political causes: handing out pamphlets, turning up at rallies, carrying signs, turning out to vote... the right way. Volunteers are willing to be led by self-proclaimed religious leaders and politicians whose Christianity is found in a fish on a bumper sticker. Christianity quickly disappears and hateful rhetoric appears. Fear rules. It disgusts me.
I dislike being identified with these people when I identify myself as a Christian. And I think Christ himself would shove them away because of their outspoken opposition to social programs and lack of empathy for the neediest or most oppressed people in our country. I have lost friends because of my liberal leanings. But I have not, as some Christian conservatives would claim, lost my soul. I think that the more compassion I am able to feel, the closer I am to my God. As Jesus said, "Whatever you've done to the least of these my brothers, you have done it unto Me." Matthew 25:40.
And that is my problem with Christians.
When Jerry Falwell started the Moral Majority movement back in the late 70's, I was hesitant to support it. I quickly saw Christians cosigning with that "absolute" way of thinking. This was before email, but still the message was dissiminated at church meetings and casual get-togethers. Think alike. Think alike.
The force of Christian automotons began to move into the political landscape. Candidates for public office were "ours" or "not ours." I started keeping my mouth shut when I didn't agree because I didn't want this force to turn against me. I voted according to my conscience but I didn't speak out.
Eventually the Moral Majority expended itself, Falwell retired, and Pat Robertson and the Christian Coalition took charge. Robertson continued to promote the Think Alike version of Christianity, and his 700 Club took on the pretense of a news organization. Once more, I kept my mouth shut. I didn't stand up and openly disagree.
Now James Dobsen, Focus on the Family and The Family Research Council are the current rage, outspoken advocates for conservative "family values." They have every right to espouse their views, abhorrent as some of them are to me. But I greatly resent that I as a Christian am expected to agree with them. I must now raise my voice in objection to the tactics and fanatacism of the Christian right wing. As Christians, we are told to emulate Christ, but devotion to Christ does not include a slavish devotion to a political point of view.
It is the nature of Christians to work tirelessly on church projects and to engage in civic improvement. The right wing of American politics has taken advantage of this nature to redirect it toward political causes: handing out pamphlets, turning up at rallies, carrying signs, turning out to vote... the right way. Volunteers are willing to be led by self-proclaimed religious leaders and politicians whose Christianity is found in a fish on a bumper sticker. Christianity quickly disappears and hateful rhetoric appears. Fear rules. It disgusts me.
I dislike being identified with these people when I identify myself as a Christian. And I think Christ himself would shove them away because of their outspoken opposition to social programs and lack of empathy for the neediest or most oppressed people in our country. I have lost friends because of my liberal leanings. But I have not, as some Christian conservatives would claim, lost my soul. I think that the more compassion I am able to feel, the closer I am to my God. As Jesus said, "Whatever you've done to the least of these my brothers, you have done it unto Me." Matthew 25:40.
And that is my problem with Christians.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Pigs eating their young
When I was young, I had a couple of pigs. They lived in a pig pen and were not "real" pets, but I named them Tony and Cleo and talked to them as though they could understand. When Cleo was pregnant and had piglets, I was excited. My mom told me to stay back, but of course I squirmed through to get a closer look, and I saw dear Cleo eating some of her babies. She had too many and couldn't feed all of them. So she ate the extras.
I had my dad sell the pigs after that. It was too gruesome for me to forgive. Now I see us attacking President Obama, tearing at him for not being Spartacus and Jesus and Gandhi and FDR. We go after each other, too, blaming and nitpicking and being critical of every statement and position. We even criticise if we are not serious enough or if someone jokes about something that seems extraneous to the current crises.
Why do we do this to each other? I don't think we should rubber-stamp everything that Obama does. I welcome constructive criticism. But can't we remember from one day to the next what good things have happened? Maybe we need a list of accomplishments posted every single day so we can refer to it and remind ourselves that forward progress is happening.
We know process. None of us are ignorant of how government works. Why would we blame the President if signs aren't posted in our local area saying federal stimulas money is at work? Do you seriously think he is in charge of signs? Why would we criticise Obama if the Legislature is recalcitrant? Separation of powers is the underpinning of our government. So let's be realistic, people. Focus on what we can do, and get to work.
We are consuming ourselves, our energy, by our mutually destructive attitudes. This is how pigs act, eating their own. Are we not better than that?
I had my dad sell the pigs after that. It was too gruesome for me to forgive. Now I see us attacking President Obama, tearing at him for not being Spartacus and Jesus and Gandhi and FDR. We go after each other, too, blaming and nitpicking and being critical of every statement and position. We even criticise if we are not serious enough or if someone jokes about something that seems extraneous to the current crises.
Why do we do this to each other? I don't think we should rubber-stamp everything that Obama does. I welcome constructive criticism. But can't we remember from one day to the next what good things have happened? Maybe we need a list of accomplishments posted every single day so we can refer to it and remind ourselves that forward progress is happening.
We know process. None of us are ignorant of how government works. Why would we blame the President if signs aren't posted in our local area saying federal stimulas money is at work? Do you seriously think he is in charge of signs? Why would we criticise Obama if the Legislature is recalcitrant? Separation of powers is the underpinning of our government. So let's be realistic, people. Focus on what we can do, and get to work.
We are consuming ourselves, our energy, by our mutually destructive attitudes. This is how pigs act, eating their own. Are we not better than that?
Saturday, January 23, 2010
A Renewed Mind
Most of the people reading this blog know me or have interacted with me in some venue. And most of you would say that I am a positive person, usually cheerful, and open minded. I am proactive in this regard, and the system I outline below is how I stay positive. When I do get down, it is usually short-lived. If you would like to be more positive and change your behaviors, try it!
Renewing your mind is an exercise needed when times get tough, patterns become ruts, and habits become destructive. There are steps to this exercise that will allow change to occur in beliefs and behaviors long established and seemingly indelible. (I use the terms "belief" and "behavior" interchangeably without any religious implication. Belief is simply something you take as fact about yourself. Behavior is a habit that has become ingrained and part of your definition of yourself.)
HOW TO RENEW YOUR MIND
Step One: Confront the belief. Who do you say you are? What do you believe is your reality? Do you say, I am fat? Do you think, I am a victim? Do you think or believe less dramatic things that are still restrictive?
Thinking of yourself as a victim or a loser can be one of the most destructive habits we indulge in. Yes, you may have been victimized at some point in your life, by a parent or by an employer, but defining yourself as a victim allows continued victimization. You may not have a job, but defining yourself as a loser because of that is downright wrong and you become less employable with that attitude.
Step Two: Now that you have identified the belief/behavior, say it out loud. Say, "I am fat." Say it out loud. Say, "I am not lovable." Out loud. "I am always negative." "I can't get a girlfriend." "No one will hire me." Whatever your belief, say it out loud. Make sure you hear your own voice saying that negative and destructive belief you have about yourself. I know it's hard to speak it and to hear it, but it's important.
Step Three: Refute it by saying a new statement about yourself out loud. Say "I am not fat. My body is normal." Say "I am not unlovable. I am loved. I love myself." "I am not negative. I am positive." "I do not neglect my health. I am becoming healthy." "It is not true that nobody will hire me. I have skills that an employer wants." What you are doing when you refute the negative belief is recording a new belief over the old one, like rerecording a new song on a used cassette tape. Maybe you don't think it's true yet, but say it anyway.
I will repeat this because it is so important. Recant the old belief and record a new belief. "I am becoming slender." "I am a lovable person." "I am in charge of my life." "I am a nonsmoker." "I do not want or need alcohol." "I am _______ (fill in the blank)" Say it loud and say it proud. Yes, this is an affirmation. But it is more than an affirmation. It is also a refutation of beliefs and behaviors that have been damaging to your life. And it works.
Step Four: Do it again, and over and over again. It takes a few weeks to eliminate the old belief. Whenever you hear that old belief in your mind, start at Step One and go streight through the steps without stopping. After all, you have spent years scraping that rut into your life. Take a little time to infill.
This system works. It's how I stay positive. When I am frightened by the state of my health or feel like none of my clothes fit anymore or think I have no friends (and I do feel that way from time to time), I renew my mind. It's like taking a mental shower.
My husband, who is a certified counselor and the Spiritual Advisor at a large alcohol & drug treatment facility, taught me this method. He lectures on "Renewing Your Mind." Part of his source material is from the writings of James Allen, specifically "As A Man Thinketh." He does not use a Biblical approach even though he is a Christian because clients come from several religious/nonreligious belief systems. His employer sells CDs of his lecture for $10 each. If you are interested in purchasing one of them, contact http://www.serenitylane.org/contact.html and ask for Dwight Lee's CD on Renewing Your Mind.
Renewing your mind is an exercise needed when times get tough, patterns become ruts, and habits become destructive. There are steps to this exercise that will allow change to occur in beliefs and behaviors long established and seemingly indelible. (I use the terms "belief" and "behavior" interchangeably without any religious implication. Belief is simply something you take as fact about yourself. Behavior is a habit that has become ingrained and part of your definition of yourself.)
HOW TO RENEW YOUR MIND
Step One: Confront the belief. Who do you say you are? What do you believe is your reality? Do you say, I am fat? Do you think, I am a victim? Do you think or believe less dramatic things that are still restrictive?
Thinking of yourself as a victim or a loser can be one of the most destructive habits we indulge in. Yes, you may have been victimized at some point in your life, by a parent or by an employer, but defining yourself as a victim allows continued victimization. You may not have a job, but defining yourself as a loser because of that is downright wrong and you become less employable with that attitude.
Step Two: Now that you have identified the belief/behavior, say it out loud. Say, "I am fat." Say it out loud. Say, "I am not lovable." Out loud. "I am always negative." "I can't get a girlfriend." "No one will hire me." Whatever your belief, say it out loud. Make sure you hear your own voice saying that negative and destructive belief you have about yourself. I know it's hard to speak it and to hear it, but it's important.
Step Three: Refute it by saying a new statement about yourself out loud. Say "I am not fat. My body is normal." Say "I am not unlovable. I am loved. I love myself." "I am not negative. I am positive." "I do not neglect my health. I am becoming healthy." "It is not true that nobody will hire me. I have skills that an employer wants." What you are doing when you refute the negative belief is recording a new belief over the old one, like rerecording a new song on a used cassette tape. Maybe you don't think it's true yet, but say it anyway.
I will repeat this because it is so important. Recant the old belief and record a new belief. "I am becoming slender." "I am a lovable person." "I am in charge of my life." "I am a nonsmoker." "I do not want or need alcohol." "I am _______ (fill in the blank)" Say it loud and say it proud. Yes, this is an affirmation. But it is more than an affirmation. It is also a refutation of beliefs and behaviors that have been damaging to your life. And it works.
Step Four: Do it again, and over and over again. It takes a few weeks to eliminate the old belief. Whenever you hear that old belief in your mind, start at Step One and go streight through the steps without stopping. After all, you have spent years scraping that rut into your life. Take a little time to infill.
This system works. It's how I stay positive. When I am frightened by the state of my health or feel like none of my clothes fit anymore or think I have no friends (and I do feel that way from time to time), I renew my mind. It's like taking a mental shower.
My husband, who is a certified counselor and the Spiritual Advisor at a large alcohol & drug treatment facility, taught me this method. He lectures on "Renewing Your Mind." Part of his source material is from the writings of James Allen, specifically "As A Man Thinketh." He does not use a Biblical approach even though he is a Christian because clients come from several religious/nonreligious belief systems. His employer sells CDs of his lecture for $10 each. If you are interested in purchasing one of them, contact http://www.serenitylane.org/contact.html and ask for Dwight Lee's CD on Renewing Your Mind.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Term limits for SCOTUS?
I believe members of the Supreme Court should be subject to term limits. Admittedly there is a long learning curve to be a Supreme Court justice, but after a period of time, the justices have established their philosophical constitutional interpretations and should be allowed to fade away.
Who is going to retire from a job that pays $208,000 a year for an associate justice and $217,000 for the chief justice? They have lifetime tenure as long as they want it or unless they are impeached. Six of the current court were appointed by Republican Presidents. Only three were appointed by Democrats.
The lifetime appointments keep justices on the Supreme Court long after their beliefs are no longer relevant or even keeping with constitutional understanding. Politics weigh heavily in court decisions, no matter how much they deny it. Their deliberations are secret. The Supreme Court is the last appelate court to which one can go. No one can overturn their decisions but the Congress.
Justice Stevens has been on the court since 1975. (35 years!) Justices Scalia and Kennedy were appointed in 1986 and 1988 respectively. (24 years and 22 years). Clarence Thomas came to the court in 1991 (19 years). These are overly long held posts. Their judicial wisdom is not irreplaceable.
I propose a 20 year term limit on a Supreme Court justice. Twenty years is a very long time, and federal retirement benefits are generous. A justice could even seek another office. Heck, even 25 years would do. But there comes a point when history, and the Supreme Court, needs to move on.
For additional information about the Supreme Court, see Wickipedia.
Who is going to retire from a job that pays $208,000 a year for an associate justice and $217,000 for the chief justice? They have lifetime tenure as long as they want it or unless they are impeached. Six of the current court were appointed by Republican Presidents. Only three were appointed by Democrats.
The lifetime appointments keep justices on the Supreme Court long after their beliefs are no longer relevant or even keeping with constitutional understanding. Politics weigh heavily in court decisions, no matter how much they deny it. Their deliberations are secret. The Supreme Court is the last appelate court to which one can go. No one can overturn their decisions but the Congress.
Justice Stevens has been on the court since 1975. (35 years!) Justices Scalia and Kennedy were appointed in 1986 and 1988 respectively. (24 years and 22 years). Clarence Thomas came to the court in 1991 (19 years). These are overly long held posts. Their judicial wisdom is not irreplaceable.
I propose a 20 year term limit on a Supreme Court justice. Twenty years is a very long time, and federal retirement benefits are generous. A justice could even seek another office. Heck, even 25 years would do. But there comes a point when history, and the Supreme Court, needs to move on.
For additional information about the Supreme Court, see Wickipedia.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Stieg Larsson
My new favorite writer is Stieg Larsson, "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" and "The Girl Who Played With Fire." Larsson was an editor and political activist in Sweden. He died in 2004 of a massive heart attack, not long after he had delivered his last three manuscripts to his publisher. The two Girl novels listed above are those manuscripts, along with a not yet published "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest." I have it on order. Movies are planned. I can only hope the films convey the sense of place and character that Larsson's books hold.
The main characters in Larsson's books are Mikael Blomkvist, a investigative journalist, and Lisbeth Salander, a quirky young computer geek with a photographic memory. The mysteries they deal with are like matryoshka, Russian stacking dolls. Within each mystery they confront are other even more personally challenging trials. Larsson's liberal sensitivities come across in his novels, which also appeals to me. I highly recommend him!
The main characters in Larsson's books are Mikael Blomkvist, a investigative journalist, and Lisbeth Salander, a quirky young computer geek with a photographic memory. The mysteries they deal with are like matryoshka, Russian stacking dolls. Within each mystery they confront are other even more personally challenging trials. Larsson's liberal sensitivities come across in his novels, which also appeals to me. I highly recommend him!
New possibilities
I have Stage 4 Renal Failure. And Type 1 Diabetes. Plus a few other things. I am officially disabled according to the Social Security Administration. I have insurance, both through my husband and through Medicare. I am blessed.
I will have to start kidney dialysis soon because of the renal failure. I get to do hemodialysis, which is the kind where you go to a dialysis center three times a week for a few hours each time. I did not want to do home dialysis (also called peritoneal dialysis) because of the rigorous daily routines one must follow. I am blessed.
And even greater possibilities arise. I have been approved for an evaluation by Oregon Health & Sciences University for possible kidney transplant. I have insurance through my husband's employer and through Medicare, and my insurance will pay for this evaluation and most likely the transplant, should I be approved. I don't know yet when the evaluation will be scheduled - most likely in the next month or two. I might even get a new pancreas!! The possibility exists, and I am blessed!
UPDATE: 1/27/2010 I learned my kidney function has improved to 25% of normal. Dialysis has been delayed as long as the percentage stays this high. Need I say it again? I am blessed!
I will have to start kidney dialysis soon because of the renal failure. I get to do hemodialysis, which is the kind where you go to a dialysis center three times a week for a few hours each time. I did not want to do home dialysis (also called peritoneal dialysis) because of the rigorous daily routines one must follow. I am blessed.
And even greater possibilities arise. I have been approved for an evaluation by Oregon Health & Sciences University for possible kidney transplant. I have insurance through my husband's employer and through Medicare, and my insurance will pay for this evaluation and most likely the transplant, should I be approved. I don't know yet when the evaluation will be scheduled - most likely in the next month or two. I might even get a new pancreas!! The possibility exists, and I am blessed!
UPDATE: 1/27/2010 I learned my kidney function has improved to 25% of normal. Dialysis has been delayed as long as the percentage stays this high. Need I say it again? I am blessed!
I am convinced that we must be positive...
I am convinced that we must be positive as we undertake this new, post-Massachusetts-Senate-race world. We have 57 Democrats, 2 Independents, and 41 Republicans in the Senate. That is our reality. What is good about it? We are in the majority! We have the ability to create change in our world. We, as individuals, are powerful in our neighborhoods. We can effect change, and we can affect the outcome. Be as positive as you can muster!!
What's the alternative?
What's the alternative?
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