check this out.

Isaiah 35:8:

A highway shall be there, and a road,

And it shall be called the Highway of Holiness.

The unclean shall not pass over it,

But it shall be for others.

Whoever walks the road, although a fool,

Shall not go astray.

 

            Actually the whole chapter of Isaiah 35 is fairly beautiful.  It speaks of, upon God’s return to earth; the desert blooming as a rose, of the weak becoming firm, the fearful strong and brave and the lame shall leap like a deer.  But in context of I – 35:8 it seems that a group of Christians have taken to imagine that Isaiah 35 (I-35) is a biblical reference to Interstate 35 which runs from Duluth, Minnesota to Lerado, Texas.  I don’t feel particularly inclined to join in with those who are deriding these individuals as misguided, over zealous or downright nutty but I did find something amusing about it all.  Who’d a thunk it?  According to I-35 corridor evangelicals God has ordained the “NAFTA Superhighway” as a sign of His kingdom on earth!  I am wondering how these evangelicals are reconciling their political juxtaposition with the anti-immigration stance of right wing presidential candidates and God’s will.  While it is up for debate that the holy highway will become the 600 yard wide superhighway with a goal of establishing a multi-national North American Union the fact remains that the important highway linking Mexico and Canada has already earned the name, NAFTA Superhighway.

            I think now would be a good time to recall NAFTA was George H.W. Bush’s baby.  Clinton signed it into law pretty much as written by the elder Bush and it was presented to Clinton with the support of a Republican Congress.  To me that suggests that neither Republicans nor the Clintons can be trusted with the keys to the White House in 08 but that is a whole other post in itself.   And you know; if George Herbert Walker wrote the darn thing (NAFTA) it must be God’s will.  So how do we reconcile this?  An open transportation system being designed under Junior Bush’s watch will reduce or eliminate check points between Mexico and Canada and you just know that some of them pesky Mexicans are going to find a way to come here and absorb all of our social services.  It seems the Christian Right has a bit of a dilemma on their hands.  I might suggest that they vote Democratic in 08.  The agenda of the left is so much less contradictory. 

 

            In other news I was a little saddened to see the story of the 6-year old little girl who won tickets to see Hannah Montana in concert may be disqualified because she (with her mother’s ill-advised assistance) fabricated a heart wrenching essay about her father being killed in Iraq.  The sad part of the story lies mainly in the hopes of a little girl being dashed by corporate executives because they were embarrassed that they had been duped.  Setting aside the abhorrent audacity of profiting from a story that is all to real for many homes across the land; in the mothers defense they conjured up an essay deemed worthy of the grand prize within the parameters spelled out for the contest.  It wasn’t true but it was effective.  And I want to know, what did this mother and daughter do that Rudy Giuliani and Willard Romney aren’t doing every day that they are campaigning for president?  While they are not lying per se about a member of their family making the ultimate sacrifice for our nation they are pontificating as if Iraq had something to do with attacks against America on 9/11.  So if this little girl should have her prize revoked, the last I checked they hadn’t actually committed to disqualifying her, I think it would be fair to suggest that if Giuliani or Romney win the presidential election we should be able to withdraw their victory as they have not been entirely honest with us. 

Defend Freedom-Join the ACLU here.

            I want to know how an explosion on the other side of the world that causes a $.94 (94 cent) increase in the cost of a 42 US gallon barrel of April oil futures can cause a .20 (20 cent) per gallon increase in Cedar Rapids, Iowa by the very next morning.  If any readers out there can explain that to me I would love to hear it!  And to think, yesterday I was worried about world powers exploiting the people of Pakistan.  I should have been worried about being exploited right here in the good old US of A.  How is it not collusion, how is it not profiteering, how is it not criminal that every damned station in my town came to the same conclusion that they could screw us out of 20 cents a gallon within hours of each other?  How is it that we have not stood up to this kind of abusive business practices now and in the past?   Our refineries already claim that they are producing at maximum output.  When oil production is at a maximum it would seem that elasticity in the price of oil should be fixed so long as demand has not grown significantly.  Did the assassination of Benazir Bhutto somehow translate into a sudden urge for Americans to all buy Hummers and start road trips across America? 

 

            I may have to rethink my support of Barack Obama.  The Clinton campaign came out yesterday with a report that Barack Obama was a bed wetter until he was three years old.  “Sen. Clinton said that the alleged bed-wetting incident "should not disqualify" Sen. Obama from the White House but should make Democrats "think long and hard" about voting for him in next month's caucuses.”  Okay.  That’s it.  I’m pretty close to going to my Caucus as an “anybody but Hillary” voter.  How desperate does a candidate have to be to resort to crap like that on the campaign trail?  I thought Obama handled it perfectly.  He said, "I'm not the one who's so scared about this race that I'm peeing myself now." OOPS!  SWMBO has pointed out to me that the bed wetting story was written by a satirist.  Damn!  It is so unlike me to run off on a rant without completely checking my facts!  Sigh.  And yet I can’t help but think that the story is very different than the kindergarten story where the Clinton campaign tried to smear Obama as blindly ambitious.  I doubt that there are many people in America who would deny that the Clintons epitomize the raw ambition that would steamroll anyone crossed their path in their pursuit for power..  It was the ultimate pot / kettle political attack. 

 

            In a seperate stump speech Obama said, "There are those who say if you want to bring about change, you must have more experience. I don't understand this argument — the argument that you are the master of a broken system in Washington ... and yet you offer yourself up as a person to change it?" 

 

And at yet another Iowa stop, when a member of the audience asked him about Pakistan. He said he would suspend U.S. military aid that is not being used to fight terrorism until the country changes its "behavior."  Obama is the man who stands out in the Democratic field as long-opposed to the Iraq war and said the "bigger context" for the terrorist problems in Pakistan is his contention that the Iraq war "resulted in us taking the eye off the ball."  "We should have been focused on al-Qaida," he said. 

 

When asked about Bill Clinton’s reference to “rolling the dice” on voting for Obama, Obama replied, "What I had to insist is that the real gamble in this election is playing the same Washington game with the same players and expecting a different result.  That's the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result."  Every time Bill or Hillary open their mouth to speak of Obama he kicks their ass.  You would think they would learn.

 

            Last night’s comedy was a hoot!  Maybe it was the Holidays or maybe it was the threat of yet another 5-7 inches of snow that is reportedly heading our way but attendance was light at the Comedy Club last night.  To begin with only 7 comedians were there to perform.  If I was to guess I would estimate 40 people attended our show.  But it was an intimate crowd and they laughed at my stuff so I’m all good with that.  I don’t think the drug has been made that could compare with hearing an audience break into laughter just when you want them to.  But perhaps the best part of my evening came after the gig.  The club MC approached me and has invited my son Clayton and I to perform with four other comedians in a special Penguins All Stars performance on February 21^st.  The show is a benefit/fundraiser for the Boys and Girls Club of Cedar Rapids.  There is so much that is cool with that.  First it is some recognition for my toiling, that’s a good thing, but it is also an opportunity to do what I love and benefit a great cause.  I think you call that good Karma!  I’ll post more details about the event as they become available.

           

            What a crazy world we live in.  Here in the United States everybody was just settling down after the hustle and bustle of the Christmas season.  We were looking forward to a New Year, college bowl games and hopefully a thinning out process of the presidential aspirants.  Some of us had grudgingly gone back to work and then we wake up on Thursday morning and all of the talking heads are covering the breaking news that Benazir Bhutto had been assassinated.  By tomorrow the pundits will have covered pretty much every angle of what this means here in America.  Already some claim this helps the Republicans that posture as toughest on terror.  Hillary stands to gain lost traction by the mere fact that she too is a woman and now we know that women are willing to pay the ultimate price to defend Democracy. 

            I’m not so sure I want to analyze how this horrific act will affect us here in America just yet.  To be sure there are very serious issues to be considered.  The least of which is not the fact that Pakistan is a nuclear power facing political turmoil.  But maybe in the first 48 hours we ought to consider the loss that has occurred here.  Not the loss of democracy or the stability of a strategic ally in a troubled region but the loss of loved ones.  Not only Ms. Bhutto and the loss her family feels.  And let’s not forget the nearly 20 others who perished in the abhorrent explosion for surely their families are grieving at this time as well.  But perhaps what is the greatest loss at this time is the loss of hope.  While Ms. Bhutto was not perhaps the be-all end-all reformer, she had her critics, but she did stand tall and courageous as a champion of the poor and the middle class. 

            It will be interesting to see how the world responds to this crisis.  Will the world see this as an opportunity to be exploited for economic and military gain?  Or will the world stand together and support the people of Pakistan to insure that the progress that dangled so delicately before them will be realized?  If you are the praying sort now would be a good time to be on your knees.

 

David Ignatius of the Washington Post knew Benazir Bhutto for over 35 years and has written an excellent story of her legacy.  Read it here.

 

            You know, if you don’t frequently visit the carefully selected blogs I have listed in my blog-roll you are missing out on some excellent writing.  Just don’t forget to come back after you visit their sites.  Yesterday I told you a story about the surprising character I had found in what I had originally deemed an unlikely place.  My friend Lori of HahnAtHome.com wrote of an experience yesterday that supports the idea of “people are people” which reminds us all that even if we are unable to walk in another’s shoes it might be a good idea to at least walk with people who we see as different than ourselves for a little bit before we cast judgment. 

 

Small Lessons in Life

Magical Samantha is very involved in the Latino community due to her interests and her vocation. So, Sunday night we attended Spanish Mass at a church in the Bay area so we could see a play where a child she knows was to play Joseph. The play portion was canceled, but we did attend the Mass. Of course, I was clueless about what exactly was said, but got the gist. Mass seems to be Mass, in any language.

As the people were leaving, child after child ran up to Magical S., hugging her. I was introduced to parents and grandparents. Finally, the stream of people dissipated, and, because the play was canceled, we went to the boy’s house to give him and his sister’s their Christmas presents. Again, I did not speak the language, but got the gist. Kids are kids, it seems, in whatever language.

With more presents to drop, we traveled from neighborhood to neighborhood over the next two days. On Christmas Eve, we spent the evening with the large family of her comadre and compadre. Magical S is godmother to one of the children and was asked if she would serve as godmother to the baby on its way. This is a much bigger deal than the godparent gig I grew up understanding.

The family matriarch and patriarch looked over their brood proudly. Tears filled the grandmother’s eyes as she looked over them all during the prayer before dinner. Never have I felt like such an honored guest in someone’s home. I ate fabulous traditional food and met about 40 people (fortunately the non-immediate family was not in attendance--I’d have had a meltdown trying to remember names). Though they did not speak my language, graciousness is graciousness in any language.

Then, I got to participate in Las Posadas, the reenactment of Mary and Joseph trying to find lodging at numerous inns and being turned away, ultimately finding refuge. There is a whole routine for this observance that includes finally arriving at the inn and being let in--all in call and answer song. I got to be one of those inside that inn--as the people came streaming in, they were all smiling and full of love of family and their God. Though this is not my faith and this was not my family, and I didn’t speak their language, it seems that families are families in any language.

I learned a lot these past few days. I met a lot of hard working people who weren’t all necessarily documented. I started to barely, but truly, understand the concerns they have and the struggles they endure on a human and emotional level. Why coming to the United States is so important to many. And, what they contribute to our communities. Hard work is hard work, in any language. And, the desire for a better life is universal.

I always say that people need only know some gay people before the fact we are gay no longer matters. We become people--individuals they know, like, or respect. We are moms and dads and friends and neighbors. Maybe if we all sat with our immigrant neighbors in each other’s homes and shared a simple evening of family and tradition, whether we speak their language or not, we might stop seeing the differences and see all the similarities.

I support concrete and progressive immigration reform based on three primary criteria: family reunification, economic contributions, and humanitarian concerns.
~ Senator Jeff Bingaman, D-New Mexico

 

            You can see my November Penguins perforamance here.  I was crunced for time and it honestly wasn't my best work... ergo no flashy imbedded you-tube video displayed here.  Check it out if you have time and if you don't...I have another gig at Penguins this Thursday.  I would love if you could be there in person!  Doors open at 7:00 and the show starts at 8:00.  If you could be there by 7:45 I would appreciate it.  The more people who show up to see me, the more time I get.

            The holidays are a time of family gathering and story telling and this year my oldest kids wanted to hear again the story of my adventures around the time of their birth.  SWMBO was in the US Army at the time and we were ever so thankful for the socialized medicine afforded us by the Department of Defense.  SWMBO was put on bed rest at 24 weeks gestation and the twins arrived 8 weeks later which made them a full 8 weeks early.  The military hospital where we were assigned was ill-equipped to handle neo-natal twins so they shipped us off to Wilford Hall Medical Center in San Antonio, TX which was regarded as having one of the best neo-natal intensive care units in the world.  And we needed it.  Clayton spent a full 90 days in intensive care and his twin sister remained in intermediate care until they were healthy enough to go home.  What was particularly fortunate for us and yet a cause of inconvenience was the fact that the twins were due to be born at about the same time SWMBO was to discharge from the Army.

            So as SWMBO was being flown to San Antonio on a medi-vac Air Force hospital jet I was at home packing our belongings for storage and took a car load of personal belongings with me to find an apartment near the hospital so I could be at her side.  I found just what I was looking for.  An extremely cheap furnished apartment located just across the interstate from Lackland Air Force Base and Wilford Hall.  The apartment was everything you would expect from a furnished apartment next to a military post with a weekly rate of $80.  It was scary.  It didn’t take long for me to realize that the apartment complex wasn’t inhabited by TDY (Temporary Duty) soldiers as I had imagined it might have been.  By the second day there I had been made aware that the young black men who seemed to continually linger in my parking lot had nickel bags of an un-described smoking product for sale and the Mexican “gentlemen on the other side of the wing sold individual “cigarettes” for $5.  Again, the leafy substance that was rolled into the “cigarettes” was to remain un-described. 

            I could deal with all of that okay as long as we were able to operate in an “I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me” relationship.  Shortly after moving in I became aware of a struggling single mother who had the apartment next door to me.  She had tearfully come to my door one day asking me if it would be possible to get a ride to the clinic as one of her children was sick.  I had just returned from a long visit at the hospital and was looking forward to a long shower and nap but how does a guy say no in a situation like that?  Along the way she told me about her husband being deployed over seas and a car repossession, an eviction, sick kids and the story couldn’t have been sadder.  I had brought along all of our dry goods from our cupboards when I moved to San Antonio so I gathered up the couple boxes of soups, mixes, canned vegetables and such and delivered them to her door when we returned.  

            I wasn’t aware of how things worked in my new “little neighborhood” and I would learn later that both sides of the parking lot merchants had been fully informed of the fact that I had provided a ride and some food to a tenant that they all had made it their business to look after.  It would seem that even in what first appeared to be a lawless situation that respect for a soldier’s family in hard times was a universal norm.  Shortly after that the “fellas” always greeted me with a nod or a wave and while I wasn’t feeling comfortable enough to begin conversations with them I did feel a little better that I no longer felt a need to speculate if there were hostilities about my coming and going into an established place of business in my brand new Mercury Cougar.  I always cringed a little as I locked that car in a parking lot that had cars coming and going 24 hours of every day. 

            And then one day Tony, the obvious ringleader of the “nickel bag” set approached me and explained that he needed a ride to visit his sick grandmother.  Taking a woman and her sick kid to the doctor was one thing.  Offering rides to a merchant of dubious commodities was quite another.  He was persistent and I was scared shitless so I agreed to take him to visit his Grandmother.  His “Grandmother” happened to live about 90 minutes away on the far side of San Antonio and I was a little freaked out that when we finally got to where we were going I thought we were maybe in some third world country or something.  There were burned out buildings, burned out cars, just your basic Iowa-Boy eye-popping inner city desolation everywhere I looked.  Tony jumped out of my car and made his way to the back of a vacant lot that was swarming with young men who looked to be either peers or customers of my new friend Tony.  They were all mingling around a trash barrel that had a huge bonfire lit to keep away the chill in the air?  This was July in San Antonio mind you so I guess I really have no idea what the bonfire was all about.  Tony made his way back to my car carrying a brown paper bag and announced he was finished and guided us back to the secure comfort of my drug hotspot apartment complex.  Before he got out of the car I told Tony that I wouldn’t be making any future runs with him to see his Grandmother.  He knew why I was in the neighborhood and I reminded him that I needed to be close to the hospital for the impending birth of my twins and he seemed to understand.  Again there seemed to be a line that wasn’t to be crossed when it came to families I suppose.

            The day my twins were born I was excited to share my news.  I made my way to the post PX and bought a box of “It’s A Boy” and a box of “It’s A Girl” cigars and then realized I had nobody to share them with.  What the hell I figured.  I stopped by the liquor store next to my apartment and bought a case of beer and invited all of the parking lot merchants up to my apartment to help me celebrate the birth of my children.  We had a great time and my guests were quick to congratulate me and wish me luck.  It seems the thought of twins was scary even to this hardened crew.  There was one tense moment when one of Tony’s friends came up to me and told me, “You know, we like you but you are really stupid for inviting all of us up to your apartment like this.  I’m only going to tell you once because I like you but you see where you put your watch, car keys and some change up there on the countertop?”  “Yes” I gulped.  “I’m a thief and you need to know that you should put that stuff in your pocket right now or I’m not going to be responsible if it comes up missing.”  The watch was a Timex and it wouldn’t have mattered but the car keys….that was another thing.  I took his advice and we continued with our little party until the beer was gone and then as quickly as they had arrived my guests departed back to their places in the parking lot below. 

            Shortly after that I had left my apartment and my few possessions in the apartment and drove up to Iowa to look for a job.  As soon as SWMBO and the twins were ready to be let out of the hospital she would be discharged from the Army and we would be moving back to Iowa.  While I retuned I sensed immediately that something was wrong.  The window was busted out in my apartment and I ran up the stairs to see what was missing.  In my haste I hadn’t even noticed that the back wing of the apartment complex had been gutted by fire in my absence.  Upon entering the apartment everything was as I had left it with the exception of the broken window.  My $400 mountain bike, my boom box stereo and all of my cassette tapes and clothes were sitting in their place.  Suddenly there was a knock on the door.  It was Tony.  SWMBO and I owned a dog back in those days and “Dave”, the dog, had been living in the apartment with me.  I had taken him home with me on my trip.  When the fire department had arrived the guys in the parking lot had insisted that they search my apartment in the event that our family pet was trapped in the apartment.  The fire department had broken out my window.  And then Tony told me that he and his boys had kept a close eye on my place to make sure nobody made off with anything. 

            I hadn’t thought of that experience for many years but I enjoyed recalling it for my kids as we traveled over the river and through the woods to Grandmothers house over the holiday.  No really, we went to my mother’s house.  There were no vacant lots or burning trash bin stops in the middle of the night while we were in Cedar Falls.  Courtney thought I should share this story with you guys.  I suppose that time in my life is just another reason I am willing to give people the benefit of the doubt.  Had I not had that experience I might forever held a different view of “those gang bangers” and the sort.  While I still don’t condone how those guys made their living I found a respect for them I might not otherwise have been able to feel.  So Tony, wherever you are this Holiday Season, I wish the best to you and yours and hope 08 is a good year for you all.

 

           

            Merry Christmas!  Christmas is what we celebrate in our home.  If you celebrate differently in your home, Happy Holidays to ya!  I don’t believe there really is a War on Christmas other than one that is made up in some people’s minds they don’t want anybody else celebrating a version different than what the holiday means to them.  First and foremost we are celebrating the birth of Christ in my home but the season has come to mean a time of gathering of family and friends as well.  I’d be the first to admit that when we are ripping open presents or munching on Holiday treats we are more fixated on the events around us than anything else.  I would venture to say that the young ladies with big hair; text messaging and talking through all of last nights services, were thinking little about the religious significance of the holiday either.  Somehow I can imagine those ladies being very concerned about the “War on Christmas” and peril it poses for our great American way of life.

            By 7:30 in the morning we had demolished the carefully wrapped presents that had taken months to accumulate and the kids settled off into various parts of the house to peruse the spoils of seasonal gifting.  SWMBO and I sat back and listened to the latest Mannheim Steamroller Christmas CD that she had placed in our cart on a recent trip to an electronics box store.  As she placed the CD into our cart she advised me that I was purchasing it for her.  “Of course I am,” I said.  And a fine choice I have made if I must say so myself.  There is something quite refreshing about having all of that commercial aspect of the holiday behind us.  Now it is time to sit back and enjoy each others company.  I hope you are able to do the same today. 

            God Bless you and…Happy Holidays!

 

           

The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like that she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.

"Leave me alone," he growled.  To his amazement, the woman continued standing.  She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows.  "Are you hungry?" she asked.  "No," he answered sarcastically.  "I've just come from dining with the president.  Now go away."  The woman's smile became even broader.  Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm.

"What are you doing, lady?”the man asked angrily.  "I said to leave me alone."

            Just then a policeman came up.  "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.  "No problem here, officer," the woman answered.  "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet.  Will you help me?"  The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"  "See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."  "Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted.  "I don't want to go in there!"  Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up.  "Let me go, officer.  I didn't do anything."  "This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered.  "Don't blow it."

            Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner.  It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived.  The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by the table.  "What's going on here, officer?" he asked.  "What is all this.  Is this man in trouble?"  "This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.  "Not in here!" the manager replied angrily.  "Having a person like that here is bad for business."  Old Jack smiled a toothless grin.  "See, lady.  I told you so.  Now if you'll let me go.  I didn't want to come here in the first place."  The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled.  "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"  "Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently.  "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."  "And do you make a goodly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"  "What business is that of yours?"  "I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."  "Oh."  The woman smiled again.  "I thought that might make a difference."  She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle.  "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"   "No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied.  "I'm on duty."  "Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"  "Yes, ma'am.  That would be very nice."  The cafeteria manager turned on his heel.  "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

            The officer watched him walk away.  "You certainly put him in his place," he said.  "That was not my intent.  Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."  She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest.  She stared at him intently.  "Jack, do you remember me?"  Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar." 

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said.  "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."   "Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly.  He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.  "I was just out of college," the woman began.  "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything.  Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment.  I walked the streets for days.  It was February and I was cold and nearly starving.  I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."  Jack lit up with a smile.  "Now I remember," he said.  "I was behind the serving counter.  You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat.  I said that it was against company policy."  "I know," the woman continued.  "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it.  I was afraid that you would get into trouble.  Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register. I knew then that everything would be all right."

            "So you started your own business?"  Old Jack said.  "I got a job that very afternoon.  I worked my way up.  Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered."

She opened her purse and pulled out a business card.  "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons.  He's the personnel director of my company.  I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office."  She smiled.  "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet.  If you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."  There were tears in the old man's eyes.  "How can I ever thank you?”  He said.  "Don't thank me,” the woman answered.  "To God goes the glory.  Thank Jesus.  He led me to you” Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways.  "Thank you for all your help, officer,” she said.  "On the contrary, Ms. Eddy,” he answered.  "Thank you.  I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget.  And ... And thank you for the coffee."

 

           I had the opportunity to preview the DVD “The Kingdom” starring Jamie Foxx, Chris Cooper and Jennifer Garner last night.  The film is fictional but draws upon incidents and some history of the ongoing conflict between the United States and Islamic extremists.  The movie is mainly a realistic action movie but gives time to consider what drives us to war.  Some of our own extremists here in the United States panned the film because they felt it had a liberal agenda.  As if abhorrence of violent death is a uniquely liberal principle.  It seems ironic that the movie was reviewed as "an adolescent American perception of world affairs" by Middle Eastern critics.  I found it interesting that the film had the courage to mention Saudi responsibility for terrorism against the United States.  The main stream media sure doesn’t like to play that fact up.  I suppose it has something to do with the President and his father’s close personal relationship with the Saudi Royal Family. 

            But anyway, on with the show; The film is action packed and graphically violent and even an old liberal like me felt the bile rise in the pit of my stomach as I grew angry at the Arab world in the beginning of the film.  And then the film resorts to some cliché political criticism of bureaucratic allegiance to the status quo but just because it is cliché doesn’t mean it is entirely untrue.  After a little character development we learn that all Arab’s aren’t terrorists and in fact the things we care about most in life are very similar between our cultures.  At the end of the film it becomes all too apparent that both sides in the struggles our world faces today are borne in knee-jerk reactions.  We are left with the hope that possibly, just possibly, we are beginning to figure that out.  I can’t tell you more without spoiling the movie but if action flicks are your thing you really ought to rent it.  It will be on your video store shelf for Christmas. 

 

            On to the music!  I mentioned several days ago that my friend Bob had hooked me up with a link to where I could secure a Fotomaker CD that received a lot of play as an LP in my early college years.  When I emailed Bob to tell him that I had received my copy yesterday he replied, “Sometimes you just gotta crank that power pop!”  You can hear some samples here.  My day found me running around in the truck all day and I was utilizing all of my 1000 watt amplifier to drive my two 10” subwoofers and four cabin speakers as I made my rounds.  Eventually most of the family jumped into the family truckster to go and pick up SWMBO Jr. from college.  She had just finished her first semester of college and is now an academic sophomore due to my contribution of gray matter.  (I wasn’t using it!)  Courtney has a good ear when it comes to music and I use her as my conduit to the current music scene.  (I can’t sit through the crap you have to endure to find the gems on todays hit radio stations.)  So when I get the opportunity to share some good music with Courtney I get to feeling pretty proud of myself.

            We were on our way home from picking Courtney up when “Where Have You Been All My Life” played.  I told Courtney that I had played that song for her mother the first occasion she had ventured into my apartment so many years ago.  Knowing my proclivity for telling a whopper from time to time Courtney sought confirmation from SWMBO who is incapable of lying.  SWMBO hadn’t remembered the song, crushing me, but wouldn’t rule out the possibility.  It was at that point that the questions that I am unfortunately all to accustomed to hearing started in.  People always want to know how SWMBO and I had ended up together as if there is something improbable about a bright and attractive professional woman not only giving me her hand in marriage but also in not letting go of it once she realized what she had done. 

            I figured then was as good of time as any to reveal my secret.  Not so much as a means of singing my own praises but rather to provide my daughter with useful information in the event that she ever met up with some guy as devious as I.  I told Courtney that I had always relied on my good taste in music much in the same way a movie producer would use a soundtrack in a love story.  And I told her that her mother had been incapable of resisting the trap I had set for her using just the right music to lull her out of her senses.  At that point SWMBO gave my hand a gentle squeeze.  I wanted to ask her if that was an affirmation of her love for me or if she was just letting me know that she was on to me.  I wanted to ask but didn’t.  Sometimes a little mystery is good for a relationship.

Wow, time flies.  Four days until Christmas.  I was doing a little Red Hog Christmas shopping yesterday and growing increasingly frustrated by the hustle and bustle of the season.  Having the day off from work my day began wonderfully enough.  I slept in until 8:00 AM at which time I had the honor of dropping the little man of the family off at school.  Normally I’m the pick up guy because I’m not known for being a morning person.  The drop off went without incident and I had the whole day in front of me and felt pretty good about it.  And then it started.  Have you ever had one of those days where it seems as if every driver on the road had it as their sole objective to cut you off, pass you and slow down or generally annoy you on the road?  I suppose it was the fact that my day started so nicely and that I had the day off from work that I opted to go with the flow and not grow angry as people seemingly made attempts on my life as I navigated the roads of my home town.

By the time I arrived at the local shopping mall I was giddy in anticipation of finishing up my shopping and as I made my way from the parking lot met an elderly lady with her grown son coming out of the mall as I reached the entryway.  I offered a joyful, “Jingle Bells” as a way of passing along seasons greetings and was met with a scowl from the mother and cold indifference by the son.  Fair enough, shopping at this time of year can be stressful and the fact that they were leaving the mall empty handed maybe meant they were worried about securing a desperately sought after hard to find item.  Once inside the mall I was witness to the worst of stereo-typical frantic shopping where people scurried about with frowns on their faces and it was becoming to be a bit of a holiday buzz kill if you want to know the truth. 

Determined to remain above the hum-buggery of the season I made my way to the mall’s anchor department store.  This is one of those stores where trained associates ooze customer service and professionalism as they efficiently direct you to what you need and offer advice and complementary items to make your purchase extra special.  The prices may be a little higher at those types of stores but for guys; there is no better place to shop for ones beloved significant other.  And it was here, in this monument to commercialism that my Christmas Spirit was renewed.  The salesperson helping me had me hooked up with my purchase and a little extra “something” in record time while making suggestions for other considerations that I regretfully declined.  The line at the department register was a bit long and everyone was patiently waiting their turn when it came time for me to pay.  As I completed my purchase I was so impressed with the service that I stopped the saleslady and asked her if she could ring up a box of the store branded fine chocolates they offer point of sale.  As she went to add them to my shopping bag I told her, “Oh no ma’am, those chocolates are not for me.  They are for you and your co-workers.  Have a Merry Christmas.” 

It was funny that such a spontaneous decision could have had such a dramatic effect.  I felt like I was they guy who brings cash in one of those world is fine as long as you use your Visa card commercials.  The other salespeople stopped their various steps of completing sales or packaging purchases and all looked upon me and smiled while returning my yuletide greeting.  And the lady behind me actually “cooed.” and another exclaimed, “Oh, wasn’t that nice”  At that point I wanted to say, “Remember to vote for Obama January 3^rd!” but thought better of it and made my way out of the store fantasizing that I had possibly started one of those “Pay it forward” chain of events like you see in the Lincoln Mutual television ads.  And then I considered that maybe I watch too much TV because I was analyzing my days events by comparing them to Visa and insurance ads.  My shopping is done now and if you can believe it or not; suddenly all of the other drivers on the road seemed to drive with uncommon courtesy.  One driver even stopped in traffic to allow me out of the parking ramp onto the busy street in front of the mall.  Was it an attitude change on my part or did I witness a small Christmas miracle?

            Tom Tancredo withdrew his candidacy for President of the United States today.  Thank God.  A campaign run on fear tactics and racism has no place in these United States.

 

            A Friday diversion...

 

            Rudolph Giuliani’s campaign has become reduced to an unlikely long-shot as more and more of his adulteress-ed past becomes more known.  Feel free to disregard that comment on his affairs and insert, profiteering on 911, associations with organized crime, misappropriation of tax payer dollars or delusions of grandeur for his role at ground zero.  But to me none of that is quite as offensive as his revisionist history invoked in his most recent Iowa campaign ad.  Ever the consummate defender against terror Rudolph is appearing on Iowa televisions comparing himself to Ronny Ray-Gun in an attempt to dupe the Ronnie-could-do-no-wrong crowd with one of their favorite fantasies. 

            The ad has Rudolph boldly standing before a backdrop of grainy black and white photos of hostages from the Iran Hostage Crisis that ended in January of 1981.  The commercial says: “I remember back to the 1970s and the early 1980s. Iranian mullahs took American hostages and they held the American hostages for 444 days. And they released the American hostages in one hour, and that should tell us a lot about these Islamic terrorists that we’re facing.”  Except, duh, it wasn’t Iranian mullahs, it was militant Iranian students who took control of the U.S. Embassy in Tehran.  Then Giuliani goes on to say, “The one hour in which they released them was the one hour in which Ronald Reagan was taking the Oath of Office as President of the United States. The best way you deal with dictators, the best way you deal with tyrants and terrorists, you stand up to them. You don’t back down. I’m Rudy Giuliani and I approve this message.”

            Well, okay Rudy, I knew of Ronald Reagan and although I was not a friend of his I do know that you are no Ronald Reagan.  And even if you were; Ronald Reagan had about as much to do with the release of the hostages as I did.  The hostages were released after Iran and the United States reached an agreement, spelled out in the Algiers Accord*, and was negotiated by President Carter’s administration, chiefly by Warren Christopher, deputy Secretary of State.  The agreement was signed on Carter’s last day in office and the hostages were in the air to freedom before Reagan ever took his oath.  They did land about a half an hour after Reagan took office so I suppose that is where all the Ray-Gun worshipers get confused. 

David Farber, Professor of History at Temple University and author of “Taken Hostage: The Iran