The Resiliency of The Love of A Child

The love a child has for a parent is so amazingly resilient; it is a beacon of forgiveness. I have witnessed so many relationships completely torn and yet, sometimes with the slightest of changes, no matter the age, the entire relationship can be refused, reignited, as though the past never happened. It should be a message to us all that we learn from our children, despite all our worldly wisdom. It could serve our world and our society well.

A child is willing to lift the veil on a drop of kindness. The power the parent wields is immense, it has the ability to create a wondrous life filled with compassion, love, giving, and it has the power to fill a wondrous life with bitterness, desolation and hate.

We are the creators of our children’s psyche. They are our responsibility – good, bad or indifferent. To reject that responsibility, is to reject yourself. A child’s psyche is directly correlated to family first – friends and society – second. If a family chooses to have their child raised by society, that is the family choice and their responsibility. I believe in a mother raising her child…(ren).

If a child cries for help, then it is first to the parents to come to the plate. No one else. Friends should be second. The warmth that a family can embrace is beyond anything else. It is unbounded.

I speak because I experience.

Whether it is politically correct or not doesn’t matter when it becomes – personal. The power that a father has with his boys is absolute. The power a mother has with her daughters is absolute. This does not negate the power of mothers and sons and daughters and fathers, it simply is a truism. It is an ingrained genetic. It is the natural course as it should be.

I want to be father and mother to my sons, but I can’t. I can only be what I am, even in the age of feminism, it is the natural way of life. And so I cry for what I cannot be.

So many miracles I’ve learned from my children, I cannot convey. But a powerful one just slapped me in the face, and as a parent, a mom, I have to be a voice.

Our kids, like us, are bound to screw up. Such is life. But if we don’t remember our own failings, we can tend to be too harsh on theirs. It is the Biblical ‘log in thine eye’ syndrome that we sometimes fail to observe when it is closest to us – our family. It is much easier when pointing an arthritic finger at someone we don’t even know.   But when it comes to family, the potential for a reverberation is too scary and thus sometimes we shy away.

I have always harped on the notion that we must travel 3000+ miles away to help and evangelize the poor, when the poor are a ten minute drive down the road. And sometimes, the poor are family.

If my son falls, I take it personally. In my opinion, it is my responsibility and reflects on what I have taught him.   In my opinion, that is the role of a parent. It isn’t easy. But then, we, each of us, made this choice, and must now accept the consequences. And sometimes, those consequences don’t go according to plan, or wish, and we can NOT drop the ball.

And so I say, with all sincerity, to all my boys, I am so sorry for all the things I have done that were wrong, self absorbed, and without heart that may have contributed or led to your own heart-aches. Please forgive me and please, learn from my mistakes, as I did from my mother ( my dad was perfect!!!).

I love you from the depths of my heart.  Find sustenance in that – please…

Celluloid Heroes…

There is an old song by The Kinks titled, Celluloid Heroes. It was a favorite of a boyfriend, and I remember seeing the live decades ago. I think it is appropriate because it identifies the role of ‘movie stars’ or ‘entertainers’. They are a prop, a character, a stage persona, that we identify with based on the role they play. Their true beliefs and personality are supposed to be locked inside themselves, given that is not their purpose. Therein, we can create – heroes.

The initial goal was to create heroes that were flawed, men and women who came to see their err in life and rose above as their lesson was learned. Jimmy Stewart played a host of such rolls, always with a failing, always with a message, always with a learning.

Today, actors seem to have abandoned this shadow appearance and taken on roles that are politically, socially, and morally obscene. And as such, don’t realize that this taints their screen appearance. It seems more a fraud than a role. It makes them … smaller.

In particular, I am watching a Christian themed Christmas movie in which Ed Asner stars as a devout – Christian father. In reality, Asner has been vocally demonstrative, demeaning, and vacuous in his hatred and divisive nature. And so, I no longer see an actor, I see a hypocrite.  I wanted, a celluloid hero.

I don’t think Hollywood quite understands how vast is their destructive mouth and tongue, how uneducated is their stance, or how stale is their breath. And I try and recall Christ’s words, “They know not what they do…” As he asks for forgiveness of their vast sins.

Most recently I was shown a Facebook post in which Gaga sat and for a lengthy term had an analogue with herself about how we must all stop being so divisive, so antagonistic, so filled with contempt and foul negativity toward others who don’t share beliefs. And yet, a quick Google search revealed her revile, her hatred, her animosity, her repugnance… her very vocal negativity toward anyone who did not hold her beliefs, of anything and all that was not in align with – her.

Of course, what this revealed is the fact that Hollywood hypocrisy is somehow ignored, or forgotten, or justified…

Another case in point: I recently wrote a response to a ‘Christian Blogger’ in Australia, Mike Frost, whose site stated that he embraced 1) open conversation 2) grace vs nature, and 3) positivity vs negativity. The blog I was responding to was about how American Christians are hypocrites when it comes to the Bible and gun control… Errr, not positive, not filled with grace, and as I found – not open – unless it was to laud and praise the ‘author’.  OUCH!

  1. Not positive. But, I still – believed. And so I presented facts and statistics. I was completely blind-sided when his response to my statistics and facts from the US perspective didn’t align with his and as a result he chose to attack my character – like a Hollywooder. Instead of the ‘open conversation’ and ‘grace’ he spoke about, his true value was about self and attack.

But even worse, he revealed that he most likely – was not a Christian at all. It was a mask.

He was no different than a ‘celluloid hero’ pretending to be something – that was far afield of ‘truth’.   What was revealed was that there are wolves who will use the Christian platform to attempt to woo people into a false reality. He was not about ‘open conversation’, ‘ or ‘grace’, or ‘positivity’, he was about bashing Christian American’s as ‘hypocrites’ and shaming me as incompetent. Neither of which support his ‘belief system’.

It is quite sad.

I knew the name Jimmy Kimmel. But I knew nothing of the person. His fame was simply a by-product, like Kathy Griffin, he has made a name for himself based on his animosity and hatred. But otherwise, I had no idea, who he was as a person. No college degree (an honorary – doesn’t count, sorry), a shitake mushroom load of self lauding, self grandizing, self glorifying that makes me cringe, grit my teeth, and stiffen into contortious contempt. As in “ARGHGHGHHGHHGHGHG” are you kidding me! His bio is ‘not’ one that I would embrace.

But that is the evolution of “Hollywood”, the celluloid heroes who once were, but are no more… instead they are simply grandiose narcissists who have no boundaries, ethics or morality.   And as such – The World Turns.

GOD – In The Hurricanes

Rohingya. An ethnic Muslim group in Myanmar that the media would have us believe is the object of ethnic cleansing. But the story is a bit more thick than that. The Muslims are a very small minority in Myanmar representing 1-4% of the population. The vast majority align with Buddhism with the second largest being Christian.   By all accounts the Muslims were initially brought to Myanmar as British slaves. But the cleansing is against Buddhists, Christians and Muslims alike, it is NOT religious, but rather a political ideology and socialist movement that aligns with Communism.

Today, in response, al Qaeda has avowed to avenge their ethnic purge through methods only ISIS, jihadists, and al Qaeda can sequester.   And so, the plot thickens.

If is not nearly as simplistic as it may appear.

While the militaristic government is a British reign of Socialist propaganda, and the coups and dictatorships are truly heinous, their ethnic cleansing is not relegated to Muslims – it is relegated to anyone that is not Socialist. As in Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton – Socialist! As in their genocide is not religious, it is political.

The twist that the media would have us believe is that the genocide is relegated to the poor Muslim minority. But this is far from the Truth. Buddhists are fleeing in massive numbers. As are Christians. And lastly, as are Muslims.

So who do we target as the perpetrator, the target? Socialists and Communists, propped and supported by both Obama and Hillary. The fall of the British rule after WWII. And the military coups that created a non-democratic destabilized country.

Despite the civil war that is currently being brutally fought, despite the wars that have permeated Myanmar for decades. The press is wholly ignoring this news in favor of reporting on Melania’s shoes, or Trump’s tweet. And we. Are being played.

Because the world is decaying, not because of global warming, but because of the decay of values and humanity.

Decoys. In the world of hunting a decoy is used to confuse the target so as to create a better end – kill. Trump is a decoy. The Trump rhetoric – is a decoy. While the media is focused on events and news that are valueless, the real news is rampaging without recognition.

What is happening in business? In money? In oil and gold? What is happening in civil strife across the globe outside of the US?   Why is the Pope making derogatory statements about Christians? What terrorist attacks continue to transpire in Sweden, Norway, Switzerland, the UK, Ireland, Germany, etc… that go unreported, under the radar?

Because instead, the media would rather focus on some created ineptitude of – Trump.

1)   a child decides that his standing – or not – for the national anthem is worthy of international news…and a lawsuit…

2)   a school apologizes for having a centerpiece at an elegant dinner that is made from ‘cotton stalks’… and that is more important than world war.

3)   a rehab/retirement facility in Florida is sued because Hurricane Irma caused occupants great stress…

4) Clinton goes ad naseum about who is at fault for her abysmal loss – and attempts to reap grand book profits because her $500,000 30 minute fees are drying up…

5)   and artistic statues that have stood for decades upon decades are suddenly ‘oppressive’ and must be destroyed so as to not offend the 1% of society that is ‘miffed’.

The world has collapsed into a soap opera of fake personalities, fake scripts and fake props. And the journalists have become soap opera puppets. NO one has respect for anyone, and the vast minority of the 1%’ers are ruling the roost …by threatening lawsuits.

Protests are allowed to propagate despite the fact that we know they are rigged and planted.

Education is allowed to disintegrate as it becomes ruled by the Socialists. And anarchy is paid for and justified.

A man writes that the devastation of the hurricanes is no different than his justification in divorcing his wives, children, families and devastating legacy, and the topsy turvy is allowed to reign.

The man can not take responsibility for his actions and therefore likens his choices to that of a hurricane or tornado, all the while not realizing – he IS the hurricane.

And so. What is left?

What is left is an abysmal failure of love and the possible travesty of the hurricane it leaves in its wake of a nonexistent legacy.

Gender Labeling

The ‘Gender Identity’ crisis has most definitely imploded to such an extent that even those 93+% who identify as a specific gender are no longer allowed to.   In addition, it would seem we are confusing gender vs sexuality vs identity vs behavior. Scientifically there are and always have been three genders; feminine, masculine and neuter. Historically, when referencing a person, neuter was someone who was androgynous. In the world of animals, neutering is making a male animal incapable of reproduction. It does not ‘change their gender’.   We still base our English on classifications of she, he and it. “It” typically references an object.   All languages have these same distinctions of feminine/masculine/neuter.

If we have anywhere from 19 to 100 new ‘gender classifications’, do we then alter our English grammar to accommodate these new constructs?   And do we require these new constructs to be learnt in elementary reading books ‘TransJane ate cheese…”? Will all books be rewritten, texts be rewritten, will non-identity books be burned?

According to the newly indoctrinated Sociology classes at universities, sexism is “an attitude or behavior that discriminates against one sex…typically woman…”   So what is sex? According to these Sociologists, “the biological characteristics with which we were born…”

That would mean sexism is either feminine or masculine and is not a ‘gender identity’. What we are witnessing is massive confusion in the parlay of word play. There are only two birth genders – male and female. How someone identifies their attraction as an adult does not alter their gender, it simply is a representation of sexuality preference. Even if a person ‘transgenders’, they are still either a male or female in their ‘gender’.

If a male dog mates with a cat, the dog is still a male dog, he hasn’t become anything else. Nor does the world purport to give the male dog a new identity name and call him a creole musk. 

Facebook feels they are the new rocket science of gender definition labels with 58 to choose from:

  1. Pan-binary: binary is a mathematical numerical association of ‘two’, in computers, 0 and 1. Pan is ‘non’. So a Pan-Binary is ‘one’, which is not a gender, it is a number.
  2. Cis: apparently this means you are either male or female by birth… oddly, CIS is an acronym for about a hundred different identities… including, Christians In Sport, Custom Internet Solutions, Certificate Issuance Software… errr, I don’t get it.
  3. Intersex: not to be confused with hermaphrodite in which a person is born possessing both male and female genetics, an intersex person simply ‘identifies’ as having male and female traits. Traits – are not a gender.
  4. Androgye and Androgyny: both identify as ‘neuter’.

 

The obsession we are currently witnessing in redefining gender is supposedly instituted in order to placate people who feel that labels need to be more specific. But why? When I was growing up people were anti-labeling. Labeling was considered a way to box a person into a definition that wasn’t necessarily fair or equal. It was considered a way of dividing people and classing them. Back then it was about neutering woman. Woman couldn’t be ‘waitresses’, they had to be ‘waitstaff’. Nowadays we can’t have any ‘esses’, because that would denote a feminine, and we can’t have ‘ors’ because that would denote a masculine. Does that mean now we have to identify a person as a waitCIS, or a waitpanbinary, or a waitandrogyny?  Will a flight attendant now become a flight attendcis or a flight attendpan?

Does it mean we eliminate she and he from the English language and insert one of the 19-100 new identities? Or is everyone now an ‘it’, an object?  A flight attendit.

Many schools are ‘requiring’ students to dress in an androgynous ‘masculine’ fashion – pants and ties. Isn’t that sexist?

Will boys go to OBgyn’s?

Gender is now muted to be defined as a ‘social behavior’. But behavior is the manner in which we conduct ourselves, by definition.  Behavior is not a gender, it is an action that is either positive or negative. In psychology, social behavior is categorized as; violent, aggressive, or a developmental disorder.

Is that really how ‘gender’s’ should be categorized? The promotion of labeling will eventually hit a brick wall and people will wonder, ‘what was I thinking?’

One example of oops mislabeling was the elimination of stewardess and steward with the replacement of ‘flight attendant’. This was actually a significant demotion per definition: A Steward was someone who was given the responsibility of management, someone who was a representative of a King, whereas an Attendant was a servant to another, someone with no authority.

Maybe we should add to the gender labeling –  a politician – because they obviously are not male or female… they are in a world of their own.

In an age where youth demand equality, they seem to be simultaneously bent on ‘inequality labeling’. ‘Cause everyone is still a guy or a girl whether you are trans or bi or CIS or Pan. And maybe this is one massive hoodwinking …

Melania’s Heels: Frontpage Story

Melania Trump’s heels garnered more world headlines than most any other story… It was then apparently followed up with a story in The Telegraph, by a woman, about why women don’t like her. The crux of the story was that she is too beautiful, too smart, and too wealthy, and chooses to not dress in a frumpy, utilitarian style.

Well gee, that makes great fodder for not liking someone…   Actually, what that reveals is more than a bit of the ancient attribute of ‘jealousy’.   The writer goes on to further find disgust with Melania because why would someone as suave as her marry – Trump? So now, her choice of husband’s is root cause to hate the woman.

OUCH!

Personally, I find her amazing. Not necessarily because she is beautiful and smart and suave, although she is, but because she can stand up to such base, ugly rhetoric and still hold her head high, like her heels, not bend to their level of mediocrity, and be exactly who she is despite the tacky whacks from all the gene pool of Lizzie Borden.

The media has seen fit to take her son down without mercy, to take her down without grace, and to take our President down without integrity. The reflection is then – not on the individuals – but on a classless journalist and parent media organization.

In this context, class is not a measurement of money, it is a measurement of honor and decency. Melania hasn’t bashed the media, she hasn’t raged back, she hasn’t even attempted a self righteous remark of indignation. She makes the Kathy Griffins of the world look trashy, and perhaps that is why they froth with slanderous commentaries. A pathetic ploy of vengeance their response is rooted in their own jealousy for not having her grace.

I suppose many women embraced Hillary and her pant suits because she wasn’t a threat to their Femme Fatale self esteem.   She too is smart, but in a very different way. And it was that very antagonistic froth that turned so many other women away despite her intellect.

A frenzy of focus on Melania’s shoes has brought out the psychoanalysis of what they represent – according to The New York Times writer:   clichéd femininity, decorative, impractical, expensive, and elitist. Gee willikers!   One would think she was the only woman left on earth that wore high heels. One would think this “Fashion Writer” had a PhD in Psychology. Rarely, if ever, have we heard the media making such an obtuse commentary about any other First Lady’s choice of clothing – because they would then be branded as ‘sexist’, intolerant, derogatory, and racist.

The New York Times went so far as to say that the shoes represented everything they hate about Trump.

Imagine.

Perhaps the woman writing the article feels that she is somehow the judge and ruler of worldly fashion, an icon of what she thinks women the world over should wear?   I am reminded of Heath Ledger. It is theorized that when he played the role of The Joker, he became – The Joker. To such an extent that the evil that was The Joker, became Heath Ledger. Sometimes, I think that is exactly what has happened to many within Hollywood, they play a role, and suddenly they think they are the world’s aficionados.

HOPE For A Caste Sheep

I’ve been trying to write a really dazzling, intellectually stimulating blog about the economy, or the shadows, or the political mire, or corruption or whatever catches my attention… But nothing really does. It all seems like a rehash of the same story with a few edits, a paragraph shift, versed synonyms, and in the end, it’s all the same.

I’ve written countless starts and yet my mind continually returns to one story. The story of a Fall, a fall from grace, a fall so incredibly steep and perilous that it catches my breath because I just don’t understand.   It is a story where hope is dragged back to the heart only to be thrashed again. And still, and yet, this flicker of hope seems to never be fully extinguished.

The story is about the pervasiveness of man in inflicting pain – with intention, with justification, and even with – glee. How far into Hell does a soul fall where pure depravity becomes an obsession that consumes the last bit of life? Where Destruction is measured as the fruit? Where once there was a soul, somewhere, but where the cracks opened to crevices, and there was nothing left of the shredded mask?

Where a person once lived.

It’s not the terrorist. It’s not the murderer. It’s not the rapist or the child molester. It’s not the prostitute or sex trafficker or acid attacker. It’s simply the person standing next to you. A person you trusted. A person with whom you shared a life. And yet it isn’t a person at all. At least, not any longer. It is the worst form of deception imaginable.

And yet despite the terror inflicted, despite their absolute desire for total ruin, there lingers, unbelievably, hope. Hope that they will somehow be witness to their malicious will, and just – stop.

Days pass. Weeks and months. And still you can’t perceive of the depth of the evil that must consume every cell, every coding, that could cause a person to act in such a way.   Perhaps it is a form of insanity?   Or is that an excuse, a justification, an out, when in fact – sometimes there is no fortuitous end, there is no cure, and that person is beyond even – Hope?

What does one do with such a loss? What does one do when the slashings are unrelenting? When the desire is immortal death? God says that all souls are savable… but not all souls are saved.   And never will be.   And while that may be how it is, God also reminds us to never give up, for even the most vile, the most sinful, can repent, and their stores of death and bitterness can be filled with an abundance of love – visible in their countenance, their deeds, and in their heart.

Of course it is so much easier to observe when you are not the target of the knife, when it hasn’t pierced your flesh, when the slashings are perpetrated somewhere else, on someone else. Then we suddenly become experts on how to assess and analyze and suture the wounds.

Listlessly, we ask the question that forever remains – why? Why do you desire this? What happened to your soul? Maybe you never had one… The veil is lifted. The mask melted by the Son. And when the cracks begin to spread through and across the dead earth that is your flesh, there is nothing to hold your bones intact, your muscle entwined, and you simply spill away into a living death.

And the wasteland that is left, is set aflame.

In all this there is a caveat. If a person hasn’t God, then in whom does he place Hope? In one self? In a mortal being flawed and imperfect? In the government? Where do you find your Hope? Without God, Hope would be so small, so fragile, easily broken, tragically barren.

And so, despite the continued slashings, the depravity, the obsessive malice, I drag myself back up, I stand and stare into the golden sun and decry, I HAVE HOPE…still. Today, I still have hope that this person’s soul will be brought to repentance and humility and set me free, and I will bleed no more. I have Hope because God stands with me in His power, His mercy, His grace.

I have Hope because God is perfect and man is so very imperfect, but even in man’s imperfection miracles can be, as the Shepherd guides, tends, and rights the caste sheep.   And so I ask, I pray, that God would right the caste sheep that has fallen from grace, and mold once again a heart to set me free.

Morality, Ethics, and A Dying Society

For years, there have been numerous explosive discussions about how numbed children are to violence as a result of video games, movies, and even sitcoms. Bombarded with images the sensory development of compassion and empathy are muted. Death and casualty invoke no emotion because its reality has been quashed.

But there is another perverse numbing that has taken hold of society, and it involves adultery, affairs, sexual hookups and pornography.  It is now so pervasive, it is estimated that over 50% of spouses engage in one or more venues.   And yet the consequence of their action, doesn’t seem to reach a value surface. Everyone does it. I deserve happiness. I am entitled.

Left in the wake of these behaviors are a pool of victims – not just the spouse – but children, neighbors, friends, colleagues, business associates and of course, entire families.   The incredible selfishness is waved, and the entitlement is embraced.

Of course the catastrophic snowball can include the possibility that both individuals partaking in this ‘relationship’ are leaving a wake behind them.  And the snowballing of tragedy grows.

Sometimes the affair is the extension of a friendship, sometimes, a vengeance ploy, and other times it is an addiction. Instead of nurturing a marriage, a spouse may be addicted to the high of the ‘honeymoon’.

The morality of society has evolved to accept adultery just as we have accepted violence. Neither have benefited our culture, and both may be our ultimate demise. The ramifications have been and continue to be the dissolution of ‘family’. The legacy that is taught is one of the all important “Me”.   The same “Me” generation that therapists encouraged.

And the consequences are a trail of destruction and a next generation of children immune to marriage and fidelity, wanting no part of the hurt it invokes. Why should I – my father/mother was a serial adulterer?

The same therapists who adamantly encourage selfishness, are now attempting to resolve non-commitment issues.   When in fact, this causal/consequence was actually perpetrated by the idea that society must ‘accept everything’, even those ethics and moralities that cross boundaries. Tolerance means that porn and adultery are commonplace and therefore a normal part of our culture.

Get over it! Don’t be such a Child!

The mantra of an addict.

But our ethics have devolved even more. Inciting assassination is now considered acceptable behavior, and to some, it is even funny. What happens to the upcoming generation that embraces this ideology as well? There are no boundaries. There is no morality. Law is tossed and chaos rules.

Everything created on this earth was created in ‘Order”, there are rules for everything from how a tree grows, to when a flower opens it’s blossom, to how every miniscule particle of our ecosystem is dependent on another. So it is also with humans. When we disrupt this ‘Order” and devolve into chaos, our ecosystem collapses and humanity collapses.

Our bodies are vast creations of “Order”, but they’ve been disrupted by man’s desire to change what is natural and recreate it in an unauthentic environment. As a result we sit numbly and watch as chaos slowly takes hold – an inch at a time.

These three societal collapses are probably our greatest terror threat. They are about disunity. They don’t come from any place of goodness or compassion, and typically leave a trail of death as they numb our senses, devour our heart, and create a new generation of even colder, more detached children.

And yet, we continue to focus on the few, instead of the many…

Middlebury Riots – a generation of daycare children?

Watching the latest Middlebury riots, the level of violence in our youth seems to have reached levels of entitlement without consequence. And this unruly behavior is rooted – at home – with parents. It is the parental responsibility to teach values and ethics to their children beginning in the home – so that they understand it is not tolerated, not permitted, and will have consequences. Unfortunately, it would seem that consequences in the home – in the schools – and now in the universities is non-existent.

Why?

Perhaps the correlation is that more and more our kids are not raised by parents, instead they are raised by institutions, as in DayCares. Not unlike the State raising children without moral boundaries, love, discipline, or virtue.

According to The National Center for Education Statistics, just 13% of children in the US get home-based relative care. This doesn’t mean a parent, it simply defers to ‘any relative’.

Twenty five years ago when daycares shifted from the helping hand to the prime parent, psychologists insisted there would be no ramifications. Instead they sought to encourage this altered state of the Family. They promoted daycares as a good, healthy, social environment. And they derided the home based mother as repugnant for holding their child back from an opportunity!

It’s much like Dr. Spock who decried that actually embracing or kissing your child could lead them into becoming a clingy cry=baby ninny. Or when our esteemed government told mother’s that formula was far superior to breast milk – and an entire generation was raised without antibodies to fight diseases.

We are now forced to live the consequence of this very stupid psychological mumbojumbo MESS.

New studies show that:

1) Children who attend daycare centers tend to exhibit more behavioral problems

2) Age of entry and quantity of time spent in daycare are directly correlated responses to the problem behavior

3) Children who spend more time in daycare more likely to exhinit negative behavior

4) Children in daycare during infancy linked to lower cognitive scores.

5) Extensive daycare experience associated with insecure attachment to mothers.

6) Parents who put their children in daycare are less likely to discipline and provide parental guidance to their children

7) Daycare children were more likely to have academic school problems, health problems as well as advanced behavioral problems.

OOPS! I guess all those expert psychologists from 25 years ago were all dead WRONG.

Further studies have shown that there is also greater inability to engage in a relationship. The new generation doesn’t want kids. They don’t want a family. Their entire world is conceived of self.   Another fabulous concept ingrained by the psychology kingdom. Self books, self need, self desire, pay attention to self, self is everything – until those selves become infatuated with nothing else.  It is an addiction – self absorption.

Daycare was not created to replace mom and dad, it was created to assist single mothers who needed to get off welfare and train in some employment capacity. But the media led us to believe that if the wealthy could have nannies, daycare was the middle class nanny so that moms could tend to ‘self’.

Growing up in a daycare is really not much different than growing up in an orphanage. Twelve hours each day under state rule, only to be taken home by a weary, exhausted mom who just wants to put their child to bed.  I remember when I had my daycare center and moms petitioned for me to have weekend overnights at the center for their children so they could go to bars, and parties and such…   I didn’t.

So if you want to know why these ‘children’ are now rioting at Berkeley, Ferguson, Middlebury, etc…, they have no discipline structure – and the Universities are so afraid they might lose money over disciplinary action, they fall further into an existential trap.

Odd Segway: Remember how the entitlers strove to shut down Ivanka Trump’s clothing line causing many department stores to pull her line? The retailers acted out of fear and succumbed to the bully tactics. But the result has been that her line is doing famously! And in the end, the retailers have lost sales , lost income, and lost respect as the majority spoke.

Imagine what support a university might find if the conservatives discovered that the school actually had values and consequences, and bullying, violent, bratty children – were no longer tolerated?

Sophie – In Memorium

IN MEMORIUM

Today after much postponing, my sons and I put down my dog Sophie. She was over 17 years old and had had numerous times when she seemed on deaths door – only to perk up again and give us hope she would live forever…

I first met Sophie when my boys brought her home after a Bronco game, holding her and saying, “Look what we found… we could keep her if you want, or we can take her to a pound where they will kill her…” Animal lover that I am, she became a member of our family – for better and for worse. Worse was that she was completely untrained and wild. She was in heat and growled and snarled and had obviously been abused.

But despite her eating my kids favorite toys, chasing the neighbor kids around trees, and being a complete weirdo, she was family. When one day she decided that she would no longer leave our cul-de-sac, her phobias kicked into high gear. She would walk to the end of the street, sit down and go no further. So she was relegated to playing and chasing and adventures via the car.

Originally she came to us at barely 17 pounds – she looked like a cross between a red fox and a dachsund. I thought she was amazingly gorgeous! At some point she ballooned to 50 pounds and we jokingly referred to her as the ‘double wide 747’. Getting serious about her weight, the kids were forbidden from giving her treats and half their meals, although this was a challenge, and she was put on a strict diet. She recovered and maintained a respectable weight that as she aged we came to realize was all – fur.

Her bones protruding, her knees giving way, she would not let us trim her nails and they grew to ridiculous length. Her teeth hurt. Her bones hurt. Her back would arch in this horrible fashion. I tried doggy aspirin, and eventually it just didn’t work any more. Absolutely stubborn to the end, she would not touch the Tramadol that may have prolonged her life – but to what end. She was totally deaf and could no longer appreciate the piano I played for her.

We, my sons and I, tried to determine when. That awful, awful decision that is just awful. And we waited three years! She would recover – especially when the warm weather came in, and then winters were tough. But she began to fall spontaneously, and then she would quiver, and sometimes she would splay and whine for help to put her legs back beneath her. Fortunately, being home, I was always there to help. The nurse maid – but in a loving way, never a burden.

So many memories of her protecting me, warning me of danger, she was small, but she made up for it in character. I will miss her terribly. I made the kids throw away all her things in the house. But I know that every time I walk into the ‘mud-room’ from the garage, where she would lay in her bed, I will think she is still there…

A dog, such an amazing companion, so unconditional in their love, so always there – Sophie I will miss you terribly!!

A HERO Story!

HOW to be a HERO

I was in the midst of a nasty divorce. I had three children under the age of five, and a husband who wanted me – dead. My girlfriend flew in to Colorado to comfort me and we went on a few Thelma and Louise type journeys that proved to have – well, consequences.

On one such occasion we, I, decided to drive to Breckenridge, the back way, across the infamous – Kenosha Pass. We had the music blaring, the windows wide, and we were having a grand ole time and apparently I missed the scenic town of Alma. Well, I wasn’t exactly looking in the rear view mirror and so I was quite oblivious to the fact that I was being chased – by a cop.

According to the cop, it took me a full ten minutes to abide by the law.  Sigh.

I didn’t have ‘proof’ of updated insurance, the license plate was registered in my husbands name still, my Drivers License had expired, and apparently I was called out for doing 65 in a 30 mile zone. Not good. He was royally pissed, and no matter how much my girlfriend and I batted our eyes, he was not a takin.

So I got this ticket that was a mile long for nothin’. At least that’s what I thought at the time. Times passes and I get a summons. I have to appear in Alma Court! It’s mid September, I put on my prettiest Mormon dress and open sandals, kiss the kids and the babysitter good-bye and drive to Alma. Creeping up Kenosha, it started to rain, DANG! Then it poured! More Dang. Then I crept across the top of the pass and the rain suddenly transported into globs of snow, I mean fistfulls that came down in balls like baseballs. It was big stuff!

It wasn’t long before the ‘sport wheels’ on my super Audi began to groan and complain. The windshield wipers stuck and I peered through a small hole that was left in the middle of the windshield – about two inches in diameter. There was upwards of two feet of swift fresh powder and I was sitting in my Audi, in my cotton chemise and open sandals, crying. I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t even see the road at all. So I stopped where I was, and opened the door to brush off enough snow to see thru the dang windshield – when a truck blazed past me nearly taking my door and me into oblivion.  NOT COOL.

SHITake…

Whimpering, but with no other choice, I drove as straight as I could, head pierced to the windshield, eyes bugged. Suddenly I saw the outline of a building to my right, and a pathway of sorts that could be a drive. As it turned out it was a Sheriffs Station and I thought I was in luck! Tripping inside, I cried and asked please, please drive me home! They looked at me like I was insane and told me the storm was a freak of nature and had stranded dozens of hunters, cattle and horses. That was their priority and I needed to go across the street to the cafe and wait it out.

How long? I asked.

Maybe four days.

NO WAY. I had three kids at home to take care of!

SO I’m sitting in this cafe blubbering to the guys spilling coffee over my plate and this old man sits down next to me at the bar after a few hours passed. Maybe four. It was a while. Anyway, he is listening to me blubber to the bad coffee pourer and offers to help me out. I’m in my thirties, he’s in his late sixties or there about.

I’m not having any other luck so I say – well, sure. So, he’s got some errands he has to tend to first. You see, the man owns a ranch, come to find later – a big ranch, and he’s got supplies and things he needs to buy at the local hardware store that he happens to own, cause of the storm. He’s driving a big boat caddie type car, enormous, heavy as all shitake. So anyway, I say sure, I mean, it’s not like I hold a hand in this – he’s helping me. So we do his stuff, and then we go back and he tells me to get in my car and he’ll follow me up Kenosha Pass.

Well my little sportie Audi was a bruiser, but not quite up to this task. Still, I had no choice. So I’m creeping up the pass, holding the wheel in a death grip, wishing I was in la-la land, and knowing that death is putting on the brake. There are semis’ jacknifed across the road. There are cars diving perilously into abyss. There is mayhem like a classic snow highway and this is shitake mushrooms!  But I’ve got this guy tagging me, and he’s determined to help me out.

I’m creeping, I’m creeping and then suddenly a hard shift to the right and the car moves sideways. Spin. Spin. Spin. No go!  Dang!

My hero man rancher gets out of his car and tries everything he knows to help, to make it work, to save me. But to no avail.  And while we’re standing in the snow staring at my car, he’s scratching his head, and I’m thinking I am so in trouble, and then – out of nowhere – a sand truck appears and dumps a plot of sand directly in front of my wheels. Huh? True story.  Poof, just like that.  Sand!

I get in the car, and just that bit of traction was enough to get me moving. My hero jumps in his caddie behind me and follows. Slip sliding, I make it ever so slowly up the remaining part of Kenosha. And the second we begin the descent on the other side, all the snow is once again – rain. Just water. And we begin the descent.  And it’s like nothing.

He followed me to his turnoff and made a left at Pine Bluff waving me on. I don’t know his name.  But I know it was important.  I found my way home having missed my court appearance, scared, shaken, and yet – saved.  And I could see, in my minds eye, the smile that must have enshrouded his lips.

Later, as I thought about the journey, I realized it wasn’t about me at all, it was about giving the man the chance to be a HERO. The story wasn’t mine, I was simply a pawn, the story was about the man needing to have the breath of being a Hero. And it felt really good. Because – he truly was.  It was like I was a gift, an object, but a gift.  It had already been determined.  It was something very valuable and important for him in that moment to know.

Epilog: I called the county to report that I had missed my court appearance and was directed to a free county attorney. We spoke – and when he asked what speed I thought I might have been doing – I lied – 40mph – maybe. I provided all my proofs, and $60 later the entire debt was relieved. But the man – my hero – that was – forever.