WHY ARE THEY TRYING TO TAKE AWAY CHRISTMAS...JESUS IS THE REASON FOR THE SEASON!
I received this letter and thought it worthy to
pass it on with this reminder of what Jesus said:
MK 8:38 If anyone is ashamed of me and my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when he comes in his Father's glory with the holy angels."
Here is the letter...
I'm on a "Merry Christmas" mission and I'm in full throttle. My little
yellow VW Beetle has turned into a Christmas billboard with Merry
Christmas written across the back window. Yes, I've decided to trek off
to work everyday on the public highways with a message that seems to
offend people.
At stop lights, I even turn my music up a little louder, and to top it
off, I sing along with it. Don't I know that stopping at a red light to
roll my windows down only to share the joy of Christmas carols on public
streets is a No-No? Don't I fear the Christmas Gestapo and those who
would have me remove the written message from my car?
I'm sorry folks, but the only person I'm concerned about "offending"
during this Christmas season is the Lord himself. LEAVE THAT MANGER
ALONE! We've allowed the Baby Jesus to be kicked out of His lowly
manger, and those offended by Christmas are still not happy.
I refuse to let this happen. I'm going to do my part to make sure
"Merry Christmas" doesn't become extinct. Because like it or not, if the
believers in Christmas don't take a stand now, it's gone forever.
Listen folks, the Christian community has been underestimated before;
we will have to show ourselves again.
I walked into a Wendy's Restaurant the other day and was rather
exuberant with my "Merry Christmas" greeting to the manager. He didn't
have much of a response and I said, "Where's your Christmas spirit?" He
said, "We're not allowed to use the words "Merry Christmas" when
greeting customers. We can only say "Happy Holiday."
This morning I grabbed a quick breakfast at a Whataburger Restaurant. I
noticed there wasn't a single decoration in the store. I asked the
manager why they weren't decorated for Christmas. He told me the
corporate headquarters decided not to send any decorations to any of
their stores, and he didn't know why.
After I heard about all the Macy's and Federated Stores taking down
their Merry Christmas signs, the Target stores not allowing the
Salvation Army to "Ring the Christmas bells," and the many incidents of
children, choirs, and bands not allowed to play or sing Christmas
carols, I realized it was happening right here in my own little Texas
town.
How can this be? Not Texas! We do, however, have a store, Hobby Lobby,
that plays nothing but Christmas carols during the season. On Christmas
Day they run a full page ad in our local newspaper. That ad is not to
promote the store, but uses the entire page to tell the story of Jesus'
birth. Now that's taking a stand. We need to thank them.
When I saw a news report the other evening of children being taught new
words to a song we've sung for years - "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" -
I was saddened to hear "We Wish You a Splendid Holiday."
I know now that it's just a matter of time that the "Merry Christmas"
greetings will be gone. Look around your town. Notice the
"Holiday" greetings and not "Christmas." It's happening right before our
very eyes.
Start singing the songs; go down the streets of America singing to your
heart's content. Get some of those wash-off markers that these kids use
to write on their car windows when they're rooting for their hometown
football team. It's easy to do, and if a torrential rain washes it off,
write it on there again.
We've got to get this message out. "Go Tell It On the Mountain . .
that Jesus Christ is Born." Sing it, speak it, be a billboard for our
Lord.
The story of this "Baby Jesus" alone has brought about more goodwill at
this time of year than any other day we celebrate. How can we sit back
and allow Him to be snuffed out of our lives?
Is it Jesus, or is it His followers that the "offended" don't like?
What kind of revulsion galvanizes one to campaign so vehemently against
the mere mention of His name, the mere singing of a carol, or the mere
visual of a sign that says "Merry Christmas?"
I can listen to my own boss at work use some of the vilest words and
follow up with, "Excuse my French." I may cringe inside at his damning
of God's name, but I tolerate it. So if you don't like me wishing you a
"Merry Christmas," I'll say, "Excuse my joy." You may cringe that I
celebrate the birth of Jesus, but just tolerate it.
I cannot be concerned that "Merry Christmas" offends you. If I'm not
careful, the day will come when saying I'm a Christian will offend you.
I'm offended that you're offended. How about that?
When we get to a point that we can no longer take part in a tradition
we hold dear, we have no choice; we either defend that tradition or we
give it up to those who say NO. That's it period. So, which will
it be?
I'm not giving up my "Merry Christmas" joy to anyone. If I know of
someone that celebrates another holiday during this time of year, I will
be glad to wish them whatever holiday they want. Just tell me what it is
and I'll shout it to the world and wish you a grand celebration.
Just give me Christmas. To you merchants: Stop being so hypocritical
and "filling your tills" on the back of Jesus! Who do you think is the
symbol of giving at this time of year? It was the wise men bringing
gifts to the newborn Christ-child.
You want your coffers full, but have ordered your employees to take
down all the Merry Christmas signs. If that's the case, I'll buy gifts
at a place that understands my joy.
If you're worried about offending someone, you just did. The most
recent Newsweek survey shows that 82% of Americans believe that Jesus is
the Son of God. So, in trying not to offend a few, you've offended many.
It's okay to jump into the "Merry Christmas" spirit when it fills your
cash register, but let's call it something else . . . and don't stop giving ....
and don't stop buying. . . we'll just change the name and you'll never
know the difference.
I know the difference and I'm feeling it greatly. It's hard not to be
aware that townships across our country have actually banned the singing
of Christmas carols because it might offend someone. And it's not just
the religious songs; it's the secular ones too. No more "Jingle Bells"
or "Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" because they're associated with
Christmas. Boy, aren't we getting sensitive?
If we're not celebrating Christmas for the hope it gives with the birth
of our Savior there is no hope!
I noticed a few years ago that we changed the name of Abraham Lincoln's
and George Washington's birthday so as to be all inclusive regarding the
Presidents. Hark, if we should recognize anyone as exceptional. Now it's
called Presidents' Day.
Well, if we're going to be so all inclusive, next month I'll have to
refer to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day as Civil Rights Leaders' Day.
We don't want to exclude great Americans like Rosa Parks or Cesar
Chavez, do we? And to think that Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton might be
left out.
We might need to change Mother's Day, Father's Day, and Grandparents'
Day to All Parents' Day. Just lump them all together.
It sounds ridiculous, doesn't it? So what's the difference?
My freedom to celebrate Christmas in the tradition of the Christian
religion is as much my right as it is your right to be offended by it.
So what are we going to do? Did anyone hear me . . what are we going
to do?
Do we defend a person's right to go forward with a time tested
tradition (how about 2000 years?), or do we defend a person's right to
end it all because they're offended? As long as we live in this great
land and have the freedom to express ourselves and what we believe in,
we will always offend someone.
If we try to make everything right for everyone, we won't have anything
for anyone.
May you always have Christmas in your heart!
Amen
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
WOW...If Only The President Would.....
WOULDN'T IT BE GREAT TO TURN ON THE TV AND HEAR ANY U.S. PRESIDENT, DEMOCRAT OR REPUBLICAN GIVE THE FOLLOWING SPEECH?
My Fellow Americans: As you all know, the defeat of Iraq regime has been completed.
Since congress does not want to spend any more money on this war, our mission in Iraq is complete.
This morning I gave the order for a complete removal of all American forces from Iraq. This action will be complete within 30 days. It is now to begin the reckoning.
Before me, I have two lists. One list contains the names of countries which have stood by our side during the Iraq conflict. This list is short. The United Kingdom, Spain, Bulgaria, Australia, and Poland are some of the countries listed there.
The other list contains everyone not on the first list. Most of the world's nations are on that list. My press secretary will be distributing copies of both lists later this evening.
Let me start by saying that effective immediately, foreign aid to those nations on List 2 ceases immediately and indefinitely. The money saved during the first year alone will pretty much pay for the costs of the Iraqi war.
The American people are no longer going to pour money into third world Hell-holes and watch those government leaders grow fat on corruption.
Need help with a famine? Wrestling with an epidemic? Call France.
In the future, together with Congress, I will work to redirect this money toward solving the vexing social problems we still have at home. On that note, a word to terrorist organizations. Screw with us and we will hunt you down and eliminate you and all your friends from the face of the earth.
Thirsting for a gutsy country to terrorize? Try France, or maybe China.
I am ordering the immediate severing of diplomatic relations with France, Germany, and Russia. Thanks for all your help, comrades. We are retiring from NATO as well. Bon chance, mes amis.
I have instructed the Mayor of New York City to begin towing the many UN diplomatic vehicles located in Manhattan with more than two unpaid parking tickets to sites where those vehicles will be stripped, shredded and crushed. I don't care about whatever treaty pertains to this. You creeps have tens of thousands of unpaid tickets. Pay those tickets tomorrow or watch your precious Benzes, Beamers and limos be turned over to some of the finest chop shops in the world. I love New York
A special note to our neighbors. Canada is on List 2. Since we are likely to be seeing a lot more of each other, you folks might want to try not p___ing us off for a change.
Mexico is also on List 2. President Fox and his entire corrupt government really need an attitude adjustment. I will have a couple extra tank and infantry divisions sitting around. Guess where I am going to put em? Yep, border security. So start doing something with your oil.
Oh, by the way, the United States is abrogating the NAFTA
treaty - starting now.
We are tired of the one-way highway. Immediately, we'll be drilling for oil in Alaska - which will take care of this country's oil needs for decades to come. If you're an environmentalist who opposes this decision, I refer you to List 2 above: pick a country and move there. They care.
It is time for America to focus on its own welfare and its own citizens. Some will accuse us of isolationism. I answer them by saying, "darn tootin."
Nearly a century of trying to help folks live a decent life around the world has only earned us the undying enmity of just about everyone on the planet. It is time to eliminate hunger in America. It is time to eliminate homelessness in America. It is time to eliminate World Cup Soccer from America. To the nations on List 1, a final thought. Thanks guys. We owe you and we won't forget.
To the nations on List 2, a final thought: You might want to learn to speak Arabic.
God bless America. Thank you and good night.
If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you are reading it in English, thank a soldier.
My Fellow Americans: As you all know, the defeat of Iraq regime has been completed.
Since congress does not want to spend any more money on this war, our mission in Iraq is complete.
This morning I gave the order for a complete removal of all American forces from Iraq. This action will be complete within 30 days. It is now to begin the reckoning.
Before me, I have two lists. One list contains the names of countries which have stood by our side during the Iraq conflict. This list is short. The United Kingdom, Spain, Bulgaria, Australia, and Poland are some of the countries listed there.
The other list contains everyone not on the first list. Most of the world's nations are on that list. My press secretary will be distributing copies of both lists later this evening.
Let me start by saying that effective immediately, foreign aid to those nations on List 2 ceases immediately and indefinitely. The money saved during the first year alone will pretty much pay for the costs of the Iraqi war.
The American people are no longer going to pour money into third world Hell-holes and watch those government leaders grow fat on corruption.
Need help with a famine? Wrestling with an epidemic? Call France.
In the future, together with Congress, I will work to redirect this money toward solving the vexing social problems we still have at home. On that note, a word to terrorist organizations. Screw with us and we will hunt you down and eliminate you and all your friends from the face of the earth.
Thirsting for a gutsy country to terrorize? Try France, or maybe China.
I am ordering the immediate severing of diplomatic relations with France, Germany, and Russia. Thanks for all your help, comrades. We are retiring from NATO as well. Bon chance, mes amis.
I have instructed the Mayor of New York City to begin towing the many UN diplomatic vehicles located in Manhattan with more than two unpaid parking tickets to sites where those vehicles will be stripped, shredded and crushed. I don't care about whatever treaty pertains to this. You creeps have tens of thousands of unpaid tickets. Pay those tickets tomorrow or watch your precious Benzes, Beamers and limos be turned over to some of the finest chop shops in the world. I love New York
A special note to our neighbors. Canada is on List 2. Since we are likely to be seeing a lot more of each other, you folks might want to try not p___ing us off for a change.
Mexico is also on List 2. President Fox and his entire corrupt government really need an attitude adjustment. I will have a couple extra tank and infantry divisions sitting around. Guess where I am going to put em? Yep, border security. So start doing something with your oil.
Oh, by the way, the United States is abrogating the NAFTA
treaty - starting now.
We are tired of the one-way highway. Immediately, we'll be drilling for oil in Alaska - which will take care of this country's oil needs for decades to come. If you're an environmentalist who opposes this decision, I refer you to List 2 above: pick a country and move there. They care.
It is time for America to focus on its own welfare and its own citizens. Some will accuse us of isolationism. I answer them by saying, "darn tootin."
Nearly a century of trying to help folks live a decent life around the world has only earned us the undying enmity of just about everyone on the planet. It is time to eliminate hunger in America. It is time to eliminate homelessness in America. It is time to eliminate World Cup Soccer from America. To the nations on List 1, a final thought. Thanks guys. We owe you and we won't forget.
To the nations on List 2, a final thought: You might want to learn to speak Arabic.
God bless America. Thank you and good night.
If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you are reading it in English, thank a soldier.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
WAR IS HELL-The Truth About The Continuing Allegations of Prison Scandals
" SHAMNESTY INTERNATIONAL"
The torture and abuse of terrorist suspects is very much in the news these days, so it's interesting to note the advice on the topic found in an Al Qaeda training manual seized some time ago in the U.K. The manual says that when captured or facing trial, "brothers must insist on proving that torture was inflicted on them by State Security." Noting the utility of the open U.S. media, the manual also calls "spreading rumors and writing statements that instigate people against the enemy" one of the top-five missions of the terrorist organization.
This is not to say that torture and abuse at the hands of American troops is always a figment of Al Qaeda propaganda: The Abu Ghraib prison scandal proves otherwise. But the manual sure puts Amnesty International's newest annual report, as well as recent claims of torture, Koran desecration, and other abuse, in perspective.
Al Qaeda knows better than any organization that its success depends on peeling both Muslim-world support and U.S. public support away from the Bush administration's war on terrorism. Consider the quasi-reasoned tone Osama bin Laden adopted in a recording he allegedly made last November, calling on the "people of America" to drop their support for the president. The recording was full of contemporary and historical allusions, as is the training manual. If Al Qaeda's savvy enough for that, it's savvy enough to know that civil liberties - even the civil liberties of accused bad guys - are a hot-button issue in the U.S.
In the U.S. alone, there are 65-plus lawsuits claiming abuse of detainees at American hands. There are still more legal demarches overseas. We've seen inaccurate Koran-desecration stories send Muslim crowds raging in protest. We have regular accounts of arrested terrorism suspects being sent to third countries where they face torture-driven interrogation. And, as if on cue, we have Amnesty International calling the U.S. military prison at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, "the gulag of our time."
Naturally, the Bush administration is berating the organization for such a ridiculous comparison. After all, Guantanamo Bay's guards are under the microscope of human-rights lawyers all the time. The inmates are fairly treated. The guard-throws-Koran-in-toilet story was false. And claims that the inmates' detention oversteps the boundaries of international law have been responded to at the highest levels. Besides, the 500-600 Guantanamo detainees wouldn't be there if Al Qaeda hadn't killed 2,948 Americans and others on Sept 11, 2001.
Yet the civil-liberties argument continues. Combine its force with regular bad news out of Iraq, and an unnecessarily large amount of bungling by the Pentagon - such as failing to punish high-level officers for Abu Ghraib, or inadequately vetting the Newsweek report on the Koran when the reporters offered it - and it's quite difficult for the Bush administration to keep hearts and minds on its side.
Which is why it's partly up to the U.S. public to keep some perspective on the torture and abuse issue.
First and foremost, torture, abuse, killing, good guys running amok, these are all standard features of war. They occurred in the past and will again in the future. "War is cruelty," Civil War Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman said, and its cruelty is part of the reason the U.S. tries to avoid going to war in the first place. But of course, we are at war.
Second, human-rights watchdogs and lawyers are a veritable cottage industry these days. Whatever the international conflict, there is always a group of them around, wringing their hands, making their names known to newspapers, and pointing out, as if for the first time, that war is hell (another Sherman quotation). They're often well-meaning. But they may be getting wagged by the Al Qaeda training handbook without even knowing - or refusing to believe - it could be so.
Third, it's essential to know the messenger. In this case, Amnesty, the hand-wringer of the week, is no friend of American foreign policy. The group, whose roots lie with early 20 th century leftists both here and in Britain, has always bent over backwards to make the capitalist U.S. look bad. Consider that the "Americas Regional Overview" in this 2005 annual report goes on at length about the U.S. and its detention camp, the U.S. and its horrible friend the government of Colombia, the U.S. and its evil counter-narcotics efforts in the region, yet makes not one mention of communist Fidel Castro's abominations in Cuba. Also, the report bends over backwards to blame the human-rights abuses of the quasi-communist Venezuelan government on those trying to unseat President Hugo Chavez.
The report's tone is reminiscent of its Cold War work, when Amnesty rather perversely thought it important to be even-handed in its assessment of Soviet human-rights abuses and our own. Considering Amnesty's fellow-traveler pedigree, perhaps it intended its Stalinist "gulag" comparison as a compliment.
The war against Al Qaeda has led U.S. troops and intelligence personnel to engage in some fairly despicable behavior, sometimes sanctioned, sometimes not. And this latest wave of complaints about the behavior won't be the last. Some of the behavior can be punished and stopped. But the war against terrorism is a real and necessary one, and immunization against its cruelties is necessary if the U.S. is to win.
The torture and abuse of terrorist suspects is very much in the news these days, so it's interesting to note the advice on the topic found in an Al Qaeda training manual seized some time ago in the U.K. The manual says that when captured or facing trial, "brothers must insist on proving that torture was inflicted on them by State Security." Noting the utility of the open U.S. media, the manual also calls "spreading rumors and writing statements that instigate people against the enemy" one of the top-five missions of the terrorist organization.
This is not to say that torture and abuse at the hands of American troops is always a figment of Al Qaeda propaganda: The Abu Ghraib prison scandal proves otherwise. But the manual sure puts Amnesty International's newest annual report, as well as recent claims of torture, Koran desecration, and other abuse, in perspective.
Al Qaeda knows better than any organization that its success depends on peeling both Muslim-world support and U.S. public support away from the Bush administration's war on terrorism. Consider the quasi-reasoned tone Osama bin Laden adopted in a recording he allegedly made last November, calling on the "people of America" to drop their support for the president. The recording was full of contemporary and historical allusions, as is the training manual. If Al Qaeda's savvy enough for that, it's savvy enough to know that civil liberties - even the civil liberties of accused bad guys - are a hot-button issue in the U.S.
In the U.S. alone, there are 65-plus lawsuits claiming abuse of detainees at American hands. There are still more legal demarches overseas. We've seen inaccurate Koran-desecration stories send Muslim crowds raging in protest. We have regular accounts of arrested terrorism suspects being sent to third countries where they face torture-driven interrogation. And, as if on cue, we have Amnesty International calling the U.S. military prison at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, "the gulag of our time."
Naturally, the Bush administration is berating the organization for such a ridiculous comparison. After all, Guantanamo Bay's guards are under the microscope of human-rights lawyers all the time. The inmates are fairly treated. The guard-throws-Koran-in-toilet story was false. And claims that the inmates' detention oversteps the boundaries of international law have been responded to at the highest levels. Besides, the 500-600 Guantanamo detainees wouldn't be there if Al Qaeda hadn't killed 2,948 Americans and others on Sept 11, 2001.
Yet the civil-liberties argument continues. Combine its force with regular bad news out of Iraq, and an unnecessarily large amount of bungling by the Pentagon - such as failing to punish high-level officers for Abu Ghraib, or inadequately vetting the Newsweek report on the Koran when the reporters offered it - and it's quite difficult for the Bush administration to keep hearts and minds on its side.
Which is why it's partly up to the U.S. public to keep some perspective on the torture and abuse issue.
First and foremost, torture, abuse, killing, good guys running amok, these are all standard features of war. They occurred in the past and will again in the future. "War is cruelty," Civil War Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman said, and its cruelty is part of the reason the U.S. tries to avoid going to war in the first place. But of course, we are at war.
Second, human-rights watchdogs and lawyers are a veritable cottage industry these days. Whatever the international conflict, there is always a group of them around, wringing their hands, making their names known to newspapers, and pointing out, as if for the first time, that war is hell (another Sherman quotation). They're often well-meaning. But they may be getting wagged by the Al Qaeda training handbook without even knowing - or refusing to believe - it could be so.
Third, it's essential to know the messenger. In this case, Amnesty, the hand-wringer of the week, is no friend of American foreign policy. The group, whose roots lie with early 20 th century leftists both here and in Britain, has always bent over backwards to make the capitalist U.S. look bad. Consider that the "Americas Regional Overview" in this 2005 annual report goes on at length about the U.S. and its detention camp, the U.S. and its horrible friend the government of Colombia, the U.S. and its evil counter-narcotics efforts in the region, yet makes not one mention of communist Fidel Castro's abominations in Cuba. Also, the report bends over backwards to blame the human-rights abuses of the quasi-communist Venezuelan government on those trying to unseat President Hugo Chavez.
The report's tone is reminiscent of its Cold War work, when Amnesty rather perversely thought it important to be even-handed in its assessment of Soviet human-rights abuses and our own. Considering Amnesty's fellow-traveler pedigree, perhaps it intended its Stalinist "gulag" comparison as a compliment.
The war against Al Qaeda has led U.S. troops and intelligence personnel to engage in some fairly despicable behavior, sometimes sanctioned, sometimes not. And this latest wave of complaints about the behavior won't be the last. Some of the behavior can be punished and stopped. But the war against terrorism is a real and necessary one, and immunization against its cruelties is necessary if the U.S. is to win.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Bill Gates-11 Things EVERY High School Student SHOULD KNOW!
This is another one I recieved in an email and it struck a nerve...I love my daughter and nephews and I cringe at the state of our public school system and the path it is headed down.
Boy is this ever the truth!!!!
Subject: GET REAL . . .
Love him or hate him, he sure hits the nail on the head with this! To anyone with kids of any age, here's some advice:
Bill Gates recently gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did not and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.
Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!
Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one. (this one is so true!)
Boy is this ever the truth!!!!
Subject: GET REAL . . .
Love him or hate him, he sure hits the nail on the head with this! To anyone with kids of any age, here's some advice:
Bill Gates recently gave a speech at a High School about 11 things they did not and will not learn in school. He talks about how feel-good, politically correct teachings created a generation of kids with no concept of reality and how this concept set them up for failure in the real world.
Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!
Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.
Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one. (this one is so true!)
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Stolen from Garrison Keeler
Just a quick joke courtesy of the man mentioned in the heading.
A duck went on a business trip. He checked into the Drake Hotel in Chicago then went to the bar for a drink. While there he met a very cute female duck. After a while they decided to go up to his room.
When he got there, he remembered that he didn't have any condoms so he called down to the front desk.
In a few minutes the concierge knocked on his door. When the duck opened the door, the concierge handed him a condom and said, "Shall I put it on your bill, sir?" The duck looked at him strangely and said, "I don't think so." and closed the door.
A duck went on a business trip. He checked into the Drake Hotel in Chicago then went to the bar for a drink. While there he met a very cute female duck. After a while they decided to go up to his room.
When he got there, he remembered that he didn't have any condoms so he called down to the front desk.
In a few minutes the concierge knocked on his door. When the duck opened the door, the concierge handed him a condom and said, "Shall I put it on your bill, sir?" The duck looked at him strangely and said, "I don't think so." and closed the door.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
THOSE WHO WALK WITH GOD WON'T RUN FROM PEOPLE'S NEEDS
I think that sometimes we all need to take the time to listen to the people around us. Read this and I believe you will understand.....
Right before the jetway door closed, I scrambled aboard the plane going from LA to Chicago, lugging my laptop and overstuffed briefcase. It was the first leg of an important business trip a few weeks before Christmas, and I was running late. I had a ton of work to catch up on, half wishing, half praying I muttered, "Please God, do me a favor; let there be an empty seat next to mine, I don't need any distractions."
I was on the aisle in a two seat row. Across sat a businesswoman with her nose buried in a newspaper. No problem. But in the seat beside mine, next to the window, was a young boy wearing a big red tag around his neck: Minor Traveling Unattended.
The kid sat perfectly still, hands in his lap, eyes straight ahead.
He'd probably been told never to talk to strangers. Good, I thought.
Then the flight attendant came by. "Michael, I have to sit down because we're about to take off," she said to the little boy. "This nice man will answer any of your questions, okay?"
Did I have a choice? I offered my hand, and Michael shook it twice, straight up and down. "Hi, I'm Jerry," I said. "You must be about 7 years old."
"I'll bet you don't have any kids," he responded.
"Why do you think that? Sure I do." I took out my wallet to show him pictures.
"Because I'm six."
"I was way off, huh?"
The captains' voice came over the speakers: "Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff." Michael pulled his seat belt tighter and gripped the armrests as the jet engines roared. I leaned over and said, "Right about now, I usually say a prayer. I ask God to keep the plane safe and to send angels to protect us."
"Amen," he said, then added, "but I'm not afraid of dying. I'm not afraid because my mama's already in heaven."
"I'm sorry." I said.
"Why are you sorry?" he asked, peering out the window as the plane lifted off.
"I'm sorry you don't have your mama here." My briefcase jostled at my feet, reminding me of all the work I needed to do.
"Look at those boats down there!" Michael said as the plane banked over the Pacific. "Where are they going?"
"Just going sailing, having a good time. And there's probably a fishing boat full of guys like you and me."
"Doing what?" he asked.
"Just fishing, maybe for bass or tuna. Does your dad ever take you fishing?"
"I don't have a dad." Michael sadly responded.
Only 6 years old and he didn't have a dad, and his Mom had died, and here he was flying halfway across the country all by himself. The least I could do was make sure he had a good flight. With my foot I pushed my briefcase under my seat.
"Do they have a bathroom here?" he asked, squirming a little.
"Sure," I said, "let me take you there." I showed him how to work the 'Occupied' sign, and what buttons to push on the sink, then he closed the door.
When he emerged, he wore a wet shirt and a huge smile. "That sink shoots water everywhere!" The attendants smiled.
Michael got the VIP treatment from the crew during snack time. I took out my laptop and tried to work on a talk I had to give, but my mind kept going to Michael. I couldn't stop looking at the crumpled grocery bag on the floor by his seat. He'd told me that everything he owned was in that bag. Poor kid.
While Michael was getting a tour of the cockpit the flight attendant told me his grandmother would pick him up in Chicago. In the seat pocket a large manila envelope held all the paperwork regarding his custody. He came back explaining, "I got wings! I got cards! I got more peanuts. I saw the pilot and he said I could come back anytime!"
For a while he stared at the manila envelope. "What are you thinking?"
I asked Michael. He didn't answer. He buried his face in his hands and started sobbing. It had been years since I'd heard a little one cry like that. My kids were grown -- still I don't think they'd ever cried so hard. I rubbed his back and wondered where the flight attendant was.
"What's the matter buddy?" I asked.
All I got were muffled words "I don't know my grandma. Mama didn't want her to come visit and see her sick. What if Grandma doesn't want me?
Where will I go?"
"Michael, do you remember the Christmas story? Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus? Remember how they came to Bethlehem just before Jesus was born? It was late and cold, and they didn't have anywhere to stay, no family, no hotels, not even hospitals where babies could be born. Well, God was watching out for them. He found them a place to stay; a stable with animals."
"Wait, wait," Michael tugged on my sleeve. "I know Jesus. I remember
now." Then he closed his eyes, lifted his head and began to sing. His voice rang out with a strength that rocked his tiny frame. "Jeeesus looooves me--thiiiiiis I knowwwwwww. For the Biiiiiible tells meeeeee sooooo....."
Passengers turned or stood up to see the little boy who made the large
sound. Michael didn't notice his audience. With his eyes shut tight
and voice lifted high, he was in a good place. "You've got a great voice," I told him when he was done. "I've never heard anyone sing like that."
"Mama said God gave me good pipes just like my Grandma's," he said. "My Grandma loves to sing, she sings in her church choir."
"Well, I'll bet you can sing there too. The two of you will be running that choir."
The seat belt sign came on as we approached O'Hare. The flight attendant came by and said we just have a few minutes now, but she told Michael it's important that he put on his seat belt. People started stirring in their seats, like the kids before the final school bell. By the time the seat belt sign went off, passengers were rushing down the aisle. Michael and I stayed seated.
"Are you gonna go with me?" he asked.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world buddy!" I assured him.
Clutching his bag and the manila envelope in one hand, he grabbed my hand with the other. The two of us followed the flight attendant down the jetway. All the noises of the airport seemed to fill the corridor.
Michael stopped, flipping his hand from mine, he dropped to his knees.
His mouth quivered. His eyes brimmed with tears
"What's wrong Michael? I'll carry you if you want."
He opened his mouth and moved his lips, but it was as if his words were stuck in his throat. When I knelt next to him, he grabbed my neck. I felt his warm, wet face as he whispered in my ear, "I want my mama!!!"
I tried to stand, but Michael squeezed my neck even harder. Then I heard a rattle of footsteps on the corridor's metal floor.
"Is that you baby?" I couldn't see the woman behind me, but I heard the warmth in her voice. "Oh baby," she cried. "Come here. Grandma loves you so much. I need a hug baby. Let go of that nice man," she knelt beside Michael and me.
Michael's grandma stroked his arm. I smelled a hint of orange blossoms.
"You've got folks waiting for you out there Michael. Do you know that you've got aunts and uncles and cousins?" She patted his skinny shoulders and started humming. Then she lifted her head and sang. I wondered if the flight attendant told her what to sing, or maybe she just knew what was right. Her strong, clear voice filled the passageway, "Jesus loves me -- this I know..."
Michael's gasps quieted. Still holding him, I rose, nodded hello to his grandma and watched her pick up the grocery bag. Right before we got to the doorway to the terminal, Michael loosened his grip around my neck and reached for his grandma.
As soon as she walked across the threshold with him, cheers erupted.
From the size of the crowd, I figured family, friends, pastors, elders, deacons, choir members and most of the neighbors had come to meet Michael. A tall man tugged on Michael's ear and pulled off the red sign around his neck. It no longer applied.
As I made my way to the gate for my connecting flight, I barely noticed the weight of my overstuffed briefcase and laptop. I started to wonder who would be in the seat next to mine this time...... And I smiled.
-- Author Unknown
Right before the jetway door closed, I scrambled aboard the plane going from LA to Chicago, lugging my laptop and overstuffed briefcase. It was the first leg of an important business trip a few weeks before Christmas, and I was running late. I had a ton of work to catch up on, half wishing, half praying I muttered, "Please God, do me a favor; let there be an empty seat next to mine, I don't need any distractions."
I was on the aisle in a two seat row. Across sat a businesswoman with her nose buried in a newspaper. No problem. But in the seat beside mine, next to the window, was a young boy wearing a big red tag around his neck: Minor Traveling Unattended.
The kid sat perfectly still, hands in his lap, eyes straight ahead.
He'd probably been told never to talk to strangers. Good, I thought.
Then the flight attendant came by. "Michael, I have to sit down because we're about to take off," she said to the little boy. "This nice man will answer any of your questions, okay?"
Did I have a choice? I offered my hand, and Michael shook it twice, straight up and down. "Hi, I'm Jerry," I said. "You must be about 7 years old."
"I'll bet you don't have any kids," he responded.
"Why do you think that? Sure I do." I took out my wallet to show him pictures.
"Because I'm six."
"I was way off, huh?"
The captains' voice came over the speakers: "Flight attendants, prepare for takeoff." Michael pulled his seat belt tighter and gripped the armrests as the jet engines roared. I leaned over and said, "Right about now, I usually say a prayer. I ask God to keep the plane safe and to send angels to protect us."
"Amen," he said, then added, "but I'm not afraid of dying. I'm not afraid because my mama's already in heaven."
"I'm sorry." I said.
"Why are you sorry?" he asked, peering out the window as the plane lifted off.
"I'm sorry you don't have your mama here." My briefcase jostled at my feet, reminding me of all the work I needed to do.
"Look at those boats down there!" Michael said as the plane banked over the Pacific. "Where are they going?"
"Just going sailing, having a good time. And there's probably a fishing boat full of guys like you and me."
"Doing what?" he asked.
"Just fishing, maybe for bass or tuna. Does your dad ever take you fishing?"
"I don't have a dad." Michael sadly responded.
Only 6 years old and he didn't have a dad, and his Mom had died, and here he was flying halfway across the country all by himself. The least I could do was make sure he had a good flight. With my foot I pushed my briefcase under my seat.
"Do they have a bathroom here?" he asked, squirming a little.
"Sure," I said, "let me take you there." I showed him how to work the 'Occupied' sign, and what buttons to push on the sink, then he closed the door.
When he emerged, he wore a wet shirt and a huge smile. "That sink shoots water everywhere!" The attendants smiled.
Michael got the VIP treatment from the crew during snack time. I took out my laptop and tried to work on a talk I had to give, but my mind kept going to Michael. I couldn't stop looking at the crumpled grocery bag on the floor by his seat. He'd told me that everything he owned was in that bag. Poor kid.
While Michael was getting a tour of the cockpit the flight attendant told me his grandmother would pick him up in Chicago. In the seat pocket a large manila envelope held all the paperwork regarding his custody. He came back explaining, "I got wings! I got cards! I got more peanuts. I saw the pilot and he said I could come back anytime!"
For a while he stared at the manila envelope. "What are you thinking?"
I asked Michael. He didn't answer. He buried his face in his hands and started sobbing. It had been years since I'd heard a little one cry like that. My kids were grown -- still I don't think they'd ever cried so hard. I rubbed his back and wondered where the flight attendant was.
"What's the matter buddy?" I asked.
All I got were muffled words "I don't know my grandma. Mama didn't want her to come visit and see her sick. What if Grandma doesn't want me?
Where will I go?"
"Michael, do you remember the Christmas story? Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus? Remember how they came to Bethlehem just before Jesus was born? It was late and cold, and they didn't have anywhere to stay, no family, no hotels, not even hospitals where babies could be born. Well, God was watching out for them. He found them a place to stay; a stable with animals."
"Wait, wait," Michael tugged on my sleeve. "I know Jesus. I remember
now." Then he closed his eyes, lifted his head and began to sing. His voice rang out with a strength that rocked his tiny frame. "Jeeesus looooves me--thiiiiiis I knowwwwwww. For the Biiiiiible tells meeeeee sooooo....."
Passengers turned or stood up to see the little boy who made the large
sound. Michael didn't notice his audience. With his eyes shut tight
and voice lifted high, he was in a good place. "You've got a great voice," I told him when he was done. "I've never heard anyone sing like that."
"Mama said God gave me good pipes just like my Grandma's," he said. "My Grandma loves to sing, she sings in her church choir."
"Well, I'll bet you can sing there too. The two of you will be running that choir."
The seat belt sign came on as we approached O'Hare. The flight attendant came by and said we just have a few minutes now, but she told Michael it's important that he put on his seat belt. People started stirring in their seats, like the kids before the final school bell. By the time the seat belt sign went off, passengers were rushing down the aisle. Michael and I stayed seated.
"Are you gonna go with me?" he asked.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world buddy!" I assured him.
Clutching his bag and the manila envelope in one hand, he grabbed my hand with the other. The two of us followed the flight attendant down the jetway. All the noises of the airport seemed to fill the corridor.
Michael stopped, flipping his hand from mine, he dropped to his knees.
His mouth quivered. His eyes brimmed with tears
"What's wrong Michael? I'll carry you if you want."
He opened his mouth and moved his lips, but it was as if his words were stuck in his throat. When I knelt next to him, he grabbed my neck. I felt his warm, wet face as he whispered in my ear, "I want my mama!!!"
I tried to stand, but Michael squeezed my neck even harder. Then I heard a rattle of footsteps on the corridor's metal floor.
"Is that you baby?" I couldn't see the woman behind me, but I heard the warmth in her voice. "Oh baby," she cried. "Come here. Grandma loves you so much. I need a hug baby. Let go of that nice man," she knelt beside Michael and me.
Michael's grandma stroked his arm. I smelled a hint of orange blossoms.
"You've got folks waiting for you out there Michael. Do you know that you've got aunts and uncles and cousins?" She patted his skinny shoulders and started humming. Then she lifted her head and sang. I wondered if the flight attendant told her what to sing, or maybe she just knew what was right. Her strong, clear voice filled the passageway, "Jesus loves me -- this I know..."
Michael's gasps quieted. Still holding him, I rose, nodded hello to his grandma and watched her pick up the grocery bag. Right before we got to the doorway to the terminal, Michael loosened his grip around my neck and reached for his grandma.
As soon as she walked across the threshold with him, cheers erupted.
From the size of the crowd, I figured family, friends, pastors, elders, deacons, choir members and most of the neighbors had come to meet Michael. A tall man tugged on Michael's ear and pulled off the red sign around his neck. It no longer applied.
As I made my way to the gate for my connecting flight, I barely noticed the weight of my overstuffed briefcase and laptop. I started to wonder who would be in the seat next to mine this time...... And I smiled.
-- Author Unknown
Saturday, April 02, 2005
CHEDDARS EXPERIENCE
OH what an experience! This Fine establishment , at least the one in Clarksville Indiana , is one to AVOID!! I can understand a place being busy and having a 20 to 30 minute wait ..I expected that and that is what we where told by the lady at the front desk. BUT!!! We,my wife and daughter and myself, waited the 30 minutes patiently then I watched people that came in after us being seated and I thought " ok they have a few more people its ok" but then it happened again and again. I asked the lady when we would be called and she replied " we are waiting for a table to open for you instead of a booth" . OK my wife and I are large people so I started watching some table areas. I watched tables open up and people be seated AHEAD of us again. WE waited 50 minutes until we had enough.
My Wife made a brief complaint and we left at that point. I don't like prejudice of any kind. I understand it exists in the world but that dosesn't mean I have to accept it.
THE CHEDDARS RESTAURANT in Clarksville Indiana NO LONGER needs to worry about this obese couple entering thier establishment..it simply will not happen. O'Charley's and RAFFERTY'S and OUTBACK and CRACKER BARREL and the such always seems to be happy for our business and even on thier busiest nights with 30-40 minute waits give us a smile and a table.
We are not rich by any means and don't consider ourselves special by any means. We both work for a living and enjoy a middle class life. We are a white obese couple in our mid 30's that enjoys a family night out for dinner now and then. We Had a terrible experience with CHEDDARS and won't go back. I feel that we were not being given service because of our weight and that just like skin color is a prejudiced bias. NO I DON"T LIKE CHEDDARS NOW.
My Wife made a brief complaint and we left at that point. I don't like prejudice of any kind. I understand it exists in the world but that dosesn't mean I have to accept it.
THE CHEDDARS RESTAURANT in Clarksville Indiana NO LONGER needs to worry about this obese couple entering thier establishment..it simply will not happen. O'Charley's and RAFFERTY'S and OUTBACK and CRACKER BARREL and the such always seems to be happy for our business and even on thier busiest nights with 30-40 minute waits give us a smile and a table.
We are not rich by any means and don't consider ourselves special by any means. We both work for a living and enjoy a middle class life. We are a white obese couple in our mid 30's that enjoys a family night out for dinner now and then. We Had a terrible experience with CHEDDARS and won't go back. I feel that we were not being given service because of our weight and that just like skin color is a prejudiced bias. NO I DON"T LIKE CHEDDARS NOW.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Thoughts right now...
Phooey on all who thought going into IRAQ was a mistake! We did what is right , are doing the right thing and God willing will continue to do so.
God Bless the USA and OUR President! Lord guide our boys in uniform and keep them as safe as possible while doing this Great Work.
Amen
God Bless the USA and OUR President! Lord guide our boys in uniform and keep them as safe as possible while doing this Great Work.
Amen
JIHAD / Allah or Jesus
The Muslim religion is the fastest growing religion per capita in the United
States, especially in the minority races!!!
Allah or Jesus? by Rick Mathes (This is a true story and the author, Rick
Mathes, is a well known leader in prison ministry.)
Last month, I attended my annual training session that's required for
maintaining my state prison security clearance. During the training session
there was a presentation by three speakers representing the Roman Catholic,
Protestant and Muslim faiths, who explained each of their belief systems.
I was particularly interested in what the Islamic Imam had to say. The Imam
gave a great presentation of the basics of Islam, complete with a video.
After the presentations, time was provided for questions and answers.
When it was my turn, I directed my question to the Imam and asked: "Please
correct me if I'm wrong, but I understand that most Imams and clerics of
Islam have declared a holy jihad [Holy war] against the infidels of the
world. And, that by killing an infidel, which is a command to all Muslims,
they are assured of a place in heaven. If that's the case, can you give me
the definition of an infidel?"
There was no disagreement with my statements and, without hesitation, he
replied, "Non-believers!"
I responded, "So, let me make sure I have this straight. All followers of
Allah have been commanded to kill everyone who is not of your faith so they
can go to Heaven. Is that correct?"
The expression on his face changed from one of authority and command to that
of a little boy who had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
He sheepishly replied, "Yes."
I then stated, "Well, sir, I have a real problem trying to imagine Pope John
Paul commanding all Catholics to kill those of your faith or Dr.Stanley
ordering Protestants to do the same in order to go to Heaven!"
The Imam was speechless.
I continued, "I also have a problem with being your friend when you and your
brother clerics are telling your followers to kill me. Let me ask you a
question. Would you rather have your Allah, who tells you to kill me in
order to go to Heaven, or my Jesus who tells me to love you because I am
going to Heaven and He wants you to be with me?" You could have heard a pin
drop as the Imam hung his head in shame.
Needless to say, the organizers and/or promoters of the 'Diversification'
training seminar were not happy with Rick's way of dealing with the Islamic
Imam and exposing the truth about the Muslim's beliefs.
I think everyone in the U.S. should be required to read this, but with the
liberal justice system, liberal media, and the ACLU, there is no way this
will be widely publicized.
States, especially in the minority races!!!
Allah or Jesus? by Rick Mathes (This is a true story and the author, Rick
Mathes, is a well known leader in prison ministry.)
Last month, I attended my annual training session that's required for
maintaining my state prison security clearance. During the training session
there was a presentation by three speakers representing the Roman Catholic,
Protestant and Muslim faiths, who explained each of their belief systems.
I was particularly interested in what the Islamic Imam had to say. The Imam
gave a great presentation of the basics of Islam, complete with a video.
After the presentations, time was provided for questions and answers.
When it was my turn, I directed my question to the Imam and asked: "Please
correct me if I'm wrong, but I understand that most Imams and clerics of
Islam have declared a holy jihad [Holy war] against the infidels of the
world. And, that by killing an infidel, which is a command to all Muslims,
they are assured of a place in heaven. If that's the case, can you give me
the definition of an infidel?"
There was no disagreement with my statements and, without hesitation, he
replied, "Non-believers!"
I responded, "So, let me make sure I have this straight. All followers of
Allah have been commanded to kill everyone who is not of your faith so they
can go to Heaven. Is that correct?"
The expression on his face changed from one of authority and command to that
of a little boy who had just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
He sheepishly replied, "Yes."
I then stated, "Well, sir, I have a real problem trying to imagine Pope John
Paul commanding all Catholics to kill those of your faith or Dr.Stanley
ordering Protestants to do the same in order to go to Heaven!"
The Imam was speechless.
I continued, "I also have a problem with being your friend when you and your
brother clerics are telling your followers to kill me. Let me ask you a
question. Would you rather have your Allah, who tells you to kill me in
order to go to Heaven, or my Jesus who tells me to love you because I am
going to Heaven and He wants you to be with me?" You could have heard a pin
drop as the Imam hung his head in shame.
Needless to say, the organizers and/or promoters of the 'Diversification'
training seminar were not happy with Rick's way of dealing with the Islamic
Imam and exposing the truth about the Muslim's beliefs.
I think everyone in the U.S. should be required to read this, but with the
liberal justice system, liberal media, and the ACLU, there is no way this
will be widely publicized.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
: You might be a Redneck if ..........
You might be a redneck if. . .
We have enjoyed the redneck jokes for years. It's time to take a reflective
look at the core beliefs of a culture that values home, family, country and
God. If I had to stand before a dozen terrorists who threaten my life, I'd choose
a half dozen or so rednecks to back me up.
Tire irons, squirrel guns and grit -- that's what rednecks are made of. I
hope I am one of those. If you feel the same, pass this on to your redneck
friends. Ya`ll know who ya are...
You might be a redneck if. . ..
It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, "One nation, under
God. . "
You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public
places.
You still say "Christmas" instead of "Winter Festival."
You bow your head when someone prays.
You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National
Anthem.
You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have.
You've never burned an American flag.
You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is
listening.
You respect your elders and expect your kids to do the same.
You'd give your last dollar to a friend.
Thank God I'm A REDNECK!!!
God Bless the USA.
--AMEN--
We have enjoyed the redneck jokes for years. It's time to take a reflective
look at the core beliefs of a culture that values home, family, country and
God. If I had to stand before a dozen terrorists who threaten my life, I'd choose
a half dozen or so rednecks to back me up.
Tire irons, squirrel guns and grit -- that's what rednecks are made of. I
hope I am one of those. If you feel the same, pass this on to your redneck
friends. Ya`ll know who ya are...
You might be a redneck if. . ..
It never occurred to you to be offended by the phrase, "One nation, under
God. . "
You've never protested about seeing the 10 Commandments posted in public
places.
You still say "Christmas" instead of "Winter Festival."
You bow your head when someone prays.
You stand and place your hand over your heart when they play the National
Anthem.
You treat Viet Nam vets with great respect, and always have.
You've never burned an American flag.
You know what you believe and you aren't afraid to say so, no matter who is
listening.
You respect your elders and expect your kids to do the same.
You'd give your last dollar to a friend.
Thank God I'm A REDNECK!!!
God Bless the USA.
--AMEN--
Hello Again :)
Its been a while since I posted anything ...sorry. Life has been going well with family things and work. The holidays were fun family get togethers good food , fellowship , and of course presents...yeah!! HEHE.
My wife and I are coming closer and closer and our 1st wedding anniversary is coming up in March. Maybe we will get to take a night away for just the two of us and have a short honeymoon , finally.
Our family has come together quite well. Ingie, our daughter, is doing fantastic. She has problems with school sometimes buit mostly that is just a loss of interest. She is more than smart enough.
My wife and I are coming closer and closer and our 1st wedding anniversary is coming up in March. Maybe we will get to take a night away for just the two of us and have a short honeymoon , finally.
Our family has come together quite well. Ingie, our daughter, is doing fantastic. She has problems with school sometimes buit mostly that is just a loss of interest. She is more than smart enough.
Ben Stein's Last Column...A Must Read!
How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today's World?
As I begin to write this, I "slug" it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is "eonlineFINAL," and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end.
It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.
Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to.
How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a "star" we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails.
They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world.
A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him.
A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad.
The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists.
We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die.
I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject.
There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.
Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero.
We are not responsible for the operation of the universe, and what happens to us is not terribly important. God is real, not a fiction; and when we turn over our lives to Him, He takes far better care of us than we could ever do for ourselves. In a word, we make ourselves sane when we fire ourselves as the directors of the movie of our lives and turn the power over to Him.
I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin...or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.
But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.
This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human.
Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein
As I begin to write this, I "slug" it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is "eonlineFINAL," and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end.
It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again.
Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to.
How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a "star" we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails.
They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world.
A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him.
A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad.
The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists.
We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die.
I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject.
There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards.
Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero.
We are not responsible for the operation of the universe, and what happens to us is not terribly important. God is real, not a fiction; and when we turn over our lives to Him, He takes far better care of us than we could ever do for ourselves. In a word, we make ourselves sane when we fire ourselves as the directors of the movie of our lives and turn the power over to Him.
I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin...or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them.
But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms.
This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human.
Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein
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