Do NOT Hand Our Country Over to Thugs

You may have noticed I’ve avoided any political musings lately.  It’s a mental health thing.  Sometimes I just have to stay away from things that upset me too much.

There are some things I just can’t understand.  One is why the mainstream media is so blatantly leftist in their views.  Freedom of speech and freedom of the press are usually the first thing to go in leftist regimes.

Another is the way the rich idiots in Hollywood like to spout out how our government doesn’t look out for the little guy.  Well, if they’re so truly concerned, why don’t they just shut up and hand over all their excessive incomes to bail out their rich banker buddies.  After all, it was their candidate and good buddy, Bill Clinton, that insisted that banks make loans available to people that would never be able to pay them back.  Yes, the American dream of home ownership should be accessible to everyone–everyone who is willing and able to work hard and spend wisely.

We may have unknowingly let thugs weaken our country and rob us blind.  But come November, please do not just totally give up and hand over the country to thugs that hate America and everything we used to stand for.  Who would you rather hand over the reins to:

John McCain:  A man who loves this country and who bravely fought and suffered abuse in the company of other brave Americans to defend our country.  A man who is not afraid to do the right thing even if it’s not the popular thing to do.  A man with enough character that even the most die-hard liberal has trouble finding fault with.

OR

Barack Obama:  A man who is influenced, supported and adored by criminals and America bashers galore (think William Ayers–former Pentagon-bombing thug; the America-damning Rev. Jeremiah Wright; and garden variety hypocrite and moron Michael Moore).  These are NOT nice people.  Most of us Americans still are.

No one may be able to totally fix this mess we’re in.  But someone could make it a hell of a lot worse!

My Traveling Guys

My three sons are all temporarily away from home.  One is stationed in Iraq until sometime in November.  The middle son was recently sent to Germany for a year, also courtesy of the Army.  Our youngest is living on campus about 5 miles away.

As of now, all three of them are not even at their homes away from home.

Soldier Son is being moved again to replace another soldier.  I’m assuming he hasn’t gotten there yet since I haven’t seen him lurking online anywhere lately.  Last time I talked to him, he said he was packing up for the move and would be sending some items home by mail to start preparing for the big move home.  It will be so exciting to start getting these things!  It will actually make it seem real that his time in Iraq is almost through.

Middle Son J was sent to or near the Czech Republic for a few weeks so that he could play an injured soldier for some training exercises.  I guess he was considered dispensable from his regular duties since he was still pretty new.  He was supposed to be gone for two weeks but once he got there, they upped it to three.  So…we sent him a package to Germany a week earlier than we would have had we known they were keeping him an extra week.  I hope it’s still there when he gets back!

Youngest Son surprised me with a visit yesterday.  He and his roommate popped in to pick up a few items.  They were heading up to Penn State this weekend.  They thought they would be able to get football tickets to the PSU game, but that didn’t work out.  Roomie has some friends up there that they’re staying with, and Youngest Son knows people up there, too.  Youngest Son said he’ll probably come home next weekend with his laundry.  That’s fine with me.  I like to do full loads of laundry.  With just Big Daddy and me home, I can rarely get a full load gathered together before we run out of clothes.

Who Woulda Thunk. . .?

Some people know exactly what they want to do with their lives, even when they’re very young children.  They have a calling, map out a plan to get there, and fulfill their dreams.  That’s not me.  I just kind of drift along, pretty much letting the winds of fortune carry me where they will.  Even though I don’t have a particular game plan, I try to be as prepared as possible.  In high school, because I was smart, I got to skip a lot of basic classes and so I had room in my schedule to take plenty of rigorous academic classes (in case I went to college), business classes (so I could get a job right out of high school), and classes I loved, like Creative Writing (because I love to write and well, the teacher was young and hot).

Along the way, I have fulfilled some of the very few goals I actually had.  I wanted to be a writer.  I knew better than to major in it at school, though.  I’m not aggressive enough to be a reporter and not disciplined enough to be able to make a living at it by freelancing.  But I have had the thrill of actually being published, and getting paid for my work (which of course convinced me further that I would never be able to live off this thing I love).  And I’m able to be a writer, albeit uncompensated, through this little blog.  Another dream I’ve always had was to be on the game show Jeopardy! Somehow, that happened!  And even though I didn’t win, I didn’t make an ass out of myself either.  One thing I never really planned was to be a mom.  And that’s the one thing, I know now, that I was meant to be.  There could never be anything more important in my life than this; nothing else has made my life so complete.

The summer before I went to college, I worked the 4 to midnight shift as a data entry operator.  I became friends with Suzy, the one outcast of the office.  She was bright, and creative, and slightly damaged from an abusive childhood.  But she was fun.  She was a couple years older, and way cooler than me.  When she said she hated kids, and brought up some reasons like how whiny and messy they were, I thought maybe she had a point.  I swear to God, though, I’m pretty sure I saw her like some 10 years after that summer, at a Chuck E. Cheese-like place with some kids.  It had been so long since I’d seen her that I wasn’t sure enough to approach her.

Suzy and I used to stand out on the sidewalk during our breaks on those warm summer nights.  We were on one of the main drags in town.  She’d flag down some of the guy friends she knew who would cruise by in their fancy Trans-Ams and Firebirds and we would chat.  One of them was Scott.  He had a factory job and worked, but was kind of a waste.  He was in love with his car and himself.  And he was a bit of a pothead.

A couple years ago, I saw Scott’s name in the paper as an investigating officer in a criminal case.  He had a pretty distinctive name, but I couldn’t believe it was the same guy.  Could he have a son?  But the rank, and the responsibility led me to believe that it had to be a guy about the same age as our old cruising friend Scott.  I’ve seen his name several times since, and it seems he’s very good at his job.  I was even able to pull up a picture online because he’d won an award, and it was him.  I know they ask State Police candidates if they’ve ever used illegal substances; I guess they don’t always find out.  I’m not squawking about this.  I know people change.  I’m living proof.

Note: Names are changed to protect the not-so-innocent

On Relationships: Monogamy and Soul Mates

Several things got me thinking about this subject.  One is having one son older than I was when I got married, and two more almost at that age.  I see the relationships they’ve gotten into, and then gotten out of.  Some were quite serious; these kids were convinced they were in love.  I’ve even let my mind wander thinking what if they got married, and for the most part, I was OK with most of their choices.  But then, as people are prone to do, they suddenly fall out of mad passionate love, become just friends or in some cases enemies, and fall madly in love with someone else.

Then I see couples like my aunt and uncle, married for almost 70 years.  If you ever watched Seinfeld, they remind me a lot of George Costanza’s parents.  There’s always a lot of eye-rolling and VERY LOUD TALKING, but underneath there’s a lot of affection there.  For as long as I can remember, it’s the way they’ve interacted with each other.  It seems like they can’t live with each other (but obviously they can after 60 some years), but I don’t think they can live without each other.

I don’t believe in the concept of a soul mate.  I think it would be a very shallow world to think that one single other person and yourself could make a complete universe.  I think each of us is one small part of the whole big puzzle.  I believe that one selects a mate that compliments one’s life and fulfills one’s needs at that time.  But since people grow and change, so does the relationship.  That is where commitment comes into play.

Not so long ago, when people married, they made a commitment for life.  Society frowned on divorce and so people made the best of the life they chose.  Women did not have the choices they have now to be able to support themselves economically, so they stayed in marriages that they might not stay in today.  By the same token, I’m sure many men stayed put with nasty partners due to the sense of duty they felt.

In some ways, this was tragic.  Like today, I’m sure many of these marriages were abusive.  No one should ever be stuck in a marriage where abuse occurs.  But there were probably a lot of normal ups and downs that people worked through, instead of baling out with a quickie divorce like they might today.  People didn’t expect everything in their lives to be perfect back then, and they didn’t run away from their problems.  Facing problems, then working together to find solutions builds character.  And relationships.

Sometimes staying together just doesn’t make sense.  If someone just doesn’t want to be with you, it’s pathetic to hang on to something that just isn’t there.  There are deal-breakers that no one should have to live with, such as abuse.  I’m glad people have choices today, and are able to find happiness if they make a terrible choice in their youth.  But I hope my boys take a long time to find a mate that they can share a happy lifetime with, who will share similar values and sense of commitment.  There’s something comforting in planning for the future in the same house, with the same spouse.

Sadness and Beauty

It was a beautiful last day of summer, turning into a clear cool night.  We chatted barefoot in the driveway this evening with my brother and sister-in-law who had stopped over to pick something up.  Later we listened to two Great Horned Owls calling to each other in the woods behind our house.  I read the paper, full of stories of the basest of human nature, while listening to the most eclectic and awesome collection of music from Big Daddy’s ipod playing over our stereo system.  I grieved for the carefree days when our country was strong and healthy, and the specter of global warfare didn’t seem so possible.    This quote from a column written by Pat Buchanan kind of sums up these times in a nutshell:

“What the Greatest Generation handed down to us–the richest, most powerful, most self-sufficient republic in history, with the highest standard of living any nation had ever achieved–the baby boomers, oblivious and self-indulgent to the end, have frittered away.”

So sad, in a world so beautiful.

Don’t Think I’m Eating Chinese Fish

I stopped at Aldi’s this morning because they have some dog beds there for sale pretty cheap and I’m trying to keep her off my good living room couch because her nails are wearing the fabric thin.  I also needed to pick up a few groceries.  Since I’m still trying to use up garden tomatoes, I thought some fish would be good and healthy to have with some broiled tomatoes.

I picked up a bag of frozen tilapia and noticed it said “Product of China.”  So I threw it down and looked at the salmon.  Then the orange roughy.  All products of China.

Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not buying ANYTHING from China.  Especially something to eat.  China, the country that exports toothpaste laced with antifreeze, paints their toys with lead-based paints, and now poisons their very own children with melamine-tainted baby formula, will not be providing any of their goods to me or my family if I can prevent it.

I ended up buying some good old American strip steaks.  They go good with broiled tomatoes, too.

As Lord Polonius Advised:

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;
For loan oft loses both itself and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This is good advice from Shakespeare’s Hamlet.  But my boys won’t listen to either Polonius or me.  In my words, I tell them:  Do NOT lend that to your friend. I see this stuff on Judge Judy ALL THE TIME.  But they don’t listen.

Soldier Son found out the hard way earlier this year.  He, being the extremely generous person that he is, decided to let his then girlfriend use his cell phone while he was in Iraq since it was of no use to him over there.  I, being the jaded skeptical court show watcher, advised him against it.  She could lose it, run over the plan minutes, and she had some sketchy relatives I was afraid might get a hold of it.  They had even stolen from her, so I didn’t trust them to not steal from my son.  But he paid to send the phone to her and was paying the monthly fee that he would have been paying anyways.  She ended up rewarding him by placing about a thousand dollars worth of long-distance calls to a dude in Australia that she’d met online–even after promising after getting caught after the first $200 worth that she would not and was oh, so sorry.  Needless to say, that was one relationship that ended badly.  We were able to retrieve the phone after I saw his bill online and realized what she was still up to, and she did make partial restitution.  But this crap happens all the time.

Now Middle Son J advised us this morning not to put the cash we got for the sale of his truck that we sold last night into the bank just yet.  A friend of his, who by the way just got out of basic training himself, wants to borrow about $1200.  NOOOOO, I scream on AIM to him.  Not a good idea.  First of all, this friend wanted him to transfer the money directly from J’s bank account into his account.  At least J didn’t think THAT was a good idea.  But he wanted us to give him cash and write up a note for his buddy to sign.

Now, it’s not that I don’t think the friend is a nice enough kid.  But that’s a lot of money between young friends.  My boys work hard for their money.  These people have relatives that they should be able to go to if they need money.  Even the big banks have trouble collecting on their loans, and my son is in Germany for a year.  If he has to sue his friend, it’s going to be kind of tough, especially when that friend could be deployed anywhere at any time.  Even if this friend has every intention in the world of paying my son back, his money skills are sorely lacking.  He’s just made at least nine months worth of income in Army pay with virtually no expenses.  Or at least he shouldn’t have spent that much.  He lives at home and doesn’t even own a car as far as I know, so he shouldn’t have had any monthly payments.  But now he wants my son, who doesn’t make that much more than him, to spot him a big chunk of money.  I’m not happy.

I’ll be pleasantly surprised if I don’t have any cause to say I TOLD YOU SO, but things don’t usually end up that way in this house.  I don’t really like to be always right.  People should just learn to live within their means, cozy up to their own families, and quit treating my kids like the Bank of America.

PS–I did put the money in the bank and since J insists, and he is 21 years old,  I guess we will loan the money to his friend–in CHECK FORM, with a signed IOU.

The Old Folks Corner

My mom gets on my nerves.  It’s pretty much a normal mother-daughter thing.  But she also gets on my brother’s and my sister’s nerves too (along with accompanying spouses).  It’s not that we don’t love her.  But you can’t help rolling your eyeballs at things she says.  You pretty much know if you take her out, she’s going to do something to embarrass you.   She always sees the glass as half-empty, although she’s trying lately to be more positive about life.  But despite all that, we still love her.  She’s our mom.  She means well.  She just drives us nuts.

Mom lives on a quiet little corner a three minute drive away.  Her 86 year old sister lives across the street from her, along with my aunt’s 92 year old husband.  This works out well because they look out for each other and keep each other company.  My mom goes over in the evenings to play gin with my uncle, and if he’s heading to the store, he’ll often ask my mom if she wants to go along for the ride.  My aunt and my mom try to go walking on the nearby trail in the mornings.  Mom usually stops by to see if my aunt is able to go walking.

Well, this morning I got a call from my aunt.  She sounded upset; in fact, she was crying.  She said mom hadn’t come over to get her to walk, and she didn’t answer the phone.  She went over there to get my mom, knocked on both doors, rang the bell, and no one answered.  She was worried because the doors were all locked but my mom’s car was in the garage.

I knew my sister was off work this week so I called her cell to see if maybe she picked mom up to go somewhere.  I got her voice mail.  My aunt had already tried her at home and got no answer.  I called my aunt back and said I’d be down soon since we kids have keys to her back door.  I was trying to think positively so I put on my running shoes, figuring if I got down there and all was well, I’d get some exercise on the trail.  I was worried enough, however, that I hit my side mirror on the edge of the garage backing out.  My mom has a bad heart and because of that, she’s on Coumadin, a medicine that thins the blood so she doesn’t have to worry about blood clots when her heart goes into arrhythmia.  So of course, on the ride down to her house, I’m praying I don’t find her drowning in a pool of her own blood from a fall, or dead from a heart attack.

When I got down there, my aunt was on the back deck of my mom’s house, still dabbing at her eyes.  I was relieved to see the door open.  My aunt said when she went back over, she looked in the window and saw my mom walking down the hall in her PJ’s, completely unaware of all the commotion she had caused.  I guess she couldn’t fall asleep all night because she felt congested (hopefully, just a cold), so she was laying in her bed with the TV on.  I guess the TV was on loud enough so she couldn’t hear the phone, doorbell, or knocking, which is kind of scary.  Could we rouse her if the house was on fire?

Anyways, I started thinking that I was glad when I took her and my aunt out shopping yesterday, we had a nice day.  I wasn’t my usual impatient self.  I made no comment when they came over late like my mom always does; I didn’t even mind waiting after checking out at the Italian food store for my aunt, who was dawdling over the goodies.  She doesn’t get out much and I was glad she found some things she likes.

We spent some time gabbing over decaf coffee my mom made.  Then I had a good run on the trail.  My aunt told my mom she was bringing her some soup over later.  I fiddled with my side-view mirror and was relieved that I was able to knock it back into place, and it still works fine.  Quite a busy day, and it wasn’t even noon by the time I left.

No Time To Be Sick

Big Daddy isn’t feeling great.  He was feeling hot, then getting chills.  But it’s not the best weekend to be sick.

Although the weather has still been quite hot (mid 80’s today), it’s definitely time to close the pool for the year.  Even though the days are heavenly warm, the nights have been cool enough to enjoy the night air with the windows open.  The same cool evenings that are turning our green tomatoes red by the dozens have been responsible for dropping clumps of leaves into the pool.  And the urgency of fall approaching has left me less than excited about spending lazy days in the pool.  I’m more inclined to want to winterize the house, washing rugs and bedspreads that I can hang outside while the weather will still allow it.

In between the prep work to close the pool, we’re all of a sudden getting tons of calls on Middle Son J’s beloved truck.  It’s been sitting on Auto Trader to be sold since the middle of August, and although we’ve had a few calls and two people actually stopping by, the phone is suddenly ringing off the hook.  One guy came yesterday and made a very lowball offer.  J was not impressed.  I was almost thinking that it might be worth it just to get it out of our driveway and not have to pay insurance on it anymore.  After all, it’s not like J can drive it for the year he’ll be in Germany.  Then this morning, we got three more calls, with two people actually stopping by and wanting that truck.  The first guy lives not too far away, brought a friend, and drove it around the neighborhood.  He wants to check how much the one part it needs will cost and is getting back to us tomorrow to make an offer.

A young girl stopped by two hours later.  She had called a couple times before expressing interest in it.  She lives about an hour away.  She brought a young man with her, and she was ready to buy it before they even test drove it.  Big Daddy told her she could take it for a drive and she was really ready to make an offer.  Since the other guy came first, we told her that we’d have to wait until noon tomorrow to see what he wanted to do.  She just called back again to let us know that she was very interested.

Meanwhile, Youngest Son is in his version of hell trying to write some journal entries for a Philosophy class.  I offered to do his laundry for him since he’s so stressed out about this paper.  He said he’d rather do laundry every day for two weeks than write this crap.  I don’t blame him.  I hated those BS classes.  I’m still trying to keep up with the motherlode of tomatoes.  Two days ago I made some yummy salsa, yesterday was chili, and today I found a recipe for a tomato and white kidney bean salad.  We all hope that by the time the Steelers game is on tonight, we can just sit down and relax!

Movie Night

Youngest Son is coming home for the weekend.  He hasn’t been home since Labor Day which isn’t so long ago, but last year he came home more often. I think he may be having too much fun at school–which is fine with me.  I know his grades come first to him so I’m not worried about him slacking.  And the main reason we’re paying for him to live on campus (when the school is only 5 miles down the road) is so that he can enjoy the whole college experience.  There is just so much more to college than sitting in class. This is the only time a person can experience independence in a safe little cocoon.  Unless you someday live in a retirement village, you probably will never get the chance to live in a community with so many people your own age.  The experiences and friendships made in this environment will help shape a person’s entire life.

Big Daddy will have to pick Youngest Son up from campus because Mama is going to the movies tonight.  My mom and aunt and a very gabby friend of my mom are going to see a “chick flick” tonight and I decided to tag along.  I haven’t been to the movies in ages so I’m actually looking forward to it–I’m just grateful that talking is frowned upon in movie theaters because these three women talk more than any human being on the planet.