step one: have a face.

"Remember when the news used to be delivered by a neighborhood kid, not by your phone?"

that was the question posed this morning by a website called The Good Old Days. and it is one of the best questions ever. and yes, it has everything to do with paris.



despite what we are commanded, it is hard to love someone you don't know. it is hard to thank someone you've never seen.

it is hard to leave a Christmas tip for the paperboy who doesn't exist.



it is easy, at least easier, not to care about people without faces. not to even realize they are people at all.



it is hard to tip a non-existent paperboy at Christmas.



but, it's easy to blow him up. 



 

 





 

the lady on the side of the road with the 2 upside down chairs

there's an older lady who sits out beside a road here in evans, georgia almost every afternoon. all afternoon. 

the road she sits by is a pretty busy one; too busy to really slow down and get a good look at her. which maybe you would want to do so you could try and figure out what she's sitting out there for. like it's any of your business.

she sits on a folding lawn chair and she has another folding lawn chair next to her. she sets a bunch of stuff on that one. i don't know what it all is. when she's not out there sitting, she turns the chairs upside down. and they sit there, waiting for her to come back and turn them like they're supposed to be.

behind her is a long, narrow red dirt road, surrounded by woods on both sides and leading, presumably, to her house. waaaaaaaaaaay back in there somewhere.

or maybe she lives in a tent.



i told rudy that i would like to stop and talk to her sometime. that maybe she's lonely or maybe she's depressed and maybe she sits out there so she can have a little company, watching the cars go by. rudy said he thought that sounded like a good idea - me stopping and talking to her sometime, that is.


sometime came today.


me (walking towards her with my hands up): excuse me, ma'm, i'm safe. i'm not here to hurt you.
lady: (doesn't say anything. which includes not saying "get out." so i didn't.)
me: i know this probably seems strange to you - it seems a little strange to me, too, to tell you the truth - but, well.......well, first of all, hi. my name is nancy.
lady: (doesn't say anything. still doesn't say "get out," though.)
me: well, um, so, yeah. my name is nancy. and i just moved here not quite 2 weeks ago. from ohio. and, well. well, i've driven up and down this road a lot since i got here and, well, i see you out here a lot.
lady: (doesn't say anything.)
me (feeling ridiculous): well. anyway. i just sorta wondered, you know, if maybe you were, i don't know, lonely or something. and maybe that's why you sit out here. to watch the cars go by and stuff. and maybe have a little company. i don't know. i just wondered that. and, well, maybe this is awful forward of me but, well, i don't know. i thought maybe i'd stop and see if you wanted someone to talk to.
lady: name's margaret (not her real name).
me: well, hi. hi, margaret. i'm happy to meet you.
margaret: (nods her head. not much, but it was a nod.)
me: so. well. ah. yeah. anyway............i just wanted to stop and say hi.
margaret: ok.
me: so, well. ok. nice meeting you. (i start to turn to walk back to my car.....)
margaret: i sit out here waiting for the mail.
me: oh! oh! well! i hadn't thought of that. (but i didn't believe that story. at least not entirely. sit out all afternoon everyday, waiting for the mail?)
me: well.
margaret (doesn't say anything).
me: well, ok. good. good. i'm glad you're not out here because you're lonely. good.
margaret (doesn't say anything).
me: well. it was nice meeting you. i guess i'll get out of your way now. nice meeting you, ma'm.
margaret: you don't have to go.
me: oh. well. okay.
margaret (doesn't say anything).
me (trying to remember my social work skills and how to engage people who are difficult to engage): so (pointing down the long red road), do you live back there?
margaret: yep.
me: looks like it'd be nice. back there in the woods.
margaret: till everybody gets to fussin' and carryin' on.
me: ah. yes. until then.
margaret: gits to me sometimes. y'know?
me: i think i do. i'm a social worker. i've seen all kinds of fussin' and carryin' on.
margaret: you work around here?
me: no. not yet. i haven't been down here very long. but i hope to get a job soon.
margaret: you'll get one.
me: i sure hope you're right.
margaret (almost smiling): i'm right.
me: well. thank you. 
margaret: no trouble.
(a few awkward seconds pass)
me: well. so. i guess i better get going. it sure was nice to meet you, margaret.
margaret: nice to meet you, too. nancy.
me: see you around?
margaret: i'll be here.
me: k. well, bye.
margaret: bye.

i walk back to my car and open the door to get in. i turn to wave to margaret.



and she's already waving to me. 









 

on the other hand, Christ said The Lord's Prayer is how to do it.

growing up as a presbyterian, i would describe the general (not always) style of prayer to which i was accustomed as "formal." formal and looooooooooooong.

as a catholic, i would describe it, generally, as "formulaic."

as me, i would describe it as........me. i pray exactly how i talk. and i have never been entirely sure if that is o.k. maybe i need to use fancier language or something. after all, i am talking to God. maybe the vernacular ain't cool with God.



i pay a lot of attention to style of prayer. i always have. some jews shuckle (also called shokel), i.e. they rock back and forth, when they pray. some catholics hold their hands in very specific ways. mormons cross their arms. muslims get down on the ground. 

evangelicals say "just" a lot. "i just ask you, Jesus" and "we just lift up....." i just wonder what an evangelical prayer would sound like without it. just not right, i guess.

most people close their eyes when they pray - but not everyone. clearly......i don't always. :)

some people wave their arms through the air. i don't do that, but i love to see it when others do. if you wave your arms through the air at a rock concert, don't you think you oughta do it when you pray to God?

hard to wave, though, when your arms are folded across your chest.
  


some of you reading this are gonna say none of this matters. but if none of it matters, then why don't religions agree on how to do it?

some of you reading this are gonna say because religions don't agree on anything. like it's their job not to agree with each other. but i disagree (ha!). i don't know of any faith tradition that says, look, let's be different just (not even the evangelicals!) for the sake of being different......just (not even the evangelicals!) to tick the other guys off. if there is a faith tradition like that, i don't know about it. and i don't want to know about it. so don't tell me.


one thing's for sure:


the worst style of prayer is none.

everyone, not no one, saying merry Christmas

i have been saying it all month. and people have all month been saying it to me. so far, if anyone is offended, no one has been punched in the face. maybe i live in heaven (that'd be cool.)


the folks i know and run into, which pretty much run the gamut from young, old, hipster, world war 2 era, ex-hippie, male, female, black, white, yellow and upside down have all said merry Christmas to me. and i have said it to them.

i said it this morning to the hispanic woman at the mcdonald's drive-thru who took my money which, ok, as a hispanic it was a fairly safe bet she she was a Christian but sidebar here, why do they charge me five dollars for a scrambled egg and one piece of bacon? because, seriously, that seems excessive. to me. i don't know what it costs if you get the big breakfast with eggs and bacon and hash browns and the ten other things that come with it but i don't think it's more than five dollars. i don't think anything at mcdonald's is more than five dollars. maybe something is. i don't pay that much attention. but, anyway, merry Christmas, lady.

i said it to the asian woman at kroger who asked me if i knew the difference between a regular artichoke and a jerusalem artichoke. i said it before she said jerusalem which, ok, for a second there, i thought i might have offended her but she just looked at me like, come on, i don't have all day - do you know the difference or don't you? (of course i do.)

and when i told her, she smiled. and said, merry Christmas to you, too.

i also said it to the guy behind me in line at trader joe's. the guy behind me in line at trader joe's - no matter who it happens to be and no matter which shopping trip it happens to be - always looks the same. he looks cool and hip and young and his beard is always that sexy kind of scruffy and he looks like, frankly, someone who might be offended if you told him merry Christmas. and maybe i just got lucky (not that kind of lucky) today. but he smiled and said, you, too.

i have said it to so many people this year that i can't count. and no one has been offended. in spite of the fact that everything i read tells me that people are offended. all the time. if you say merry Christmas to them. so you shouldn't. say merry Christmas. but i did. and they weren't.


and you shouldn't be, either.

what happens when you fight in ferguson

fighting for someone else's rights means you run the risk of fighting for glory.

your own.



i have an activist friend who takes on racism, sexism, ageism, genderism, body sizeism, and foodism (there are only certain foods, you know, that are politically correct to eat - just ask michelle obama - or my friend). he even takes on car-ism, education-ism, and when he runs out of isms, he makes more up. after reading this, he will probably take on blog-ism.

his twitter and facebook feeds are full of outrage. 24/7. outrage, outrage, outrage. vitriol, vitriol, vitriol. calling you out, calling you out, calling you out. he thinks of himself as single-handedly running his very own underground railroad for every so-called oppressed person/group in the world. (at least, in this country. which, of course, he hates.)

he means well. he means very well. but he is the most self-centered, most vainglorious person i know. he is unbelievably misguided.

thee most activist person in the history of the world was Jesus Christ. he took on every cause my friend takes on - but with a striking difference. He leaves people - the ones who are paying attention, anyway - with nothing short of a fervent desire to be just like Him. and to obliterate everything He wanted to obliterate.

(as opposed to wanting to obliterate the obliterator.......which, forgive me, father, that's a sin.) 



and not taking one ounce of credit for any of it.

the sidewalk the day the president got shot

six days away from turning nine and the president got

shot.


the sidewalk got bumpy.

on the way home, i fell over it twice.
i had never fallen over it once

before.


i don't remember the sky.


the sidewalk, the sidewalk. when did they build extra

sidewalk? why did it take five minutes

this morning and however-high-i-could-count-minutes-

that-afternoon just to get

home?


i don't remember the sky. the sky is usually my favorite

part. but i guess i wasn't looking

up.


i was six days away from turning nine

and the president got shot.


when the sidewalk ended,

it was at my house - and i went

inside. i knew i shouldn't

have.


the aroma of cookies was not

there.

my mom was crying.



i turned nine, maybe 15,
six days early


that year.

what happens when you put heat on the ice bucket?

several people, myself included, have pointed out the potential downside to the ice bucket challenge, and we have not been appreciated for doing so. 

here locally, vince tornado, of news radio station 610 WTVN in columbus, ohio, is enduring fans' wrath and threats to boycott his show - because he said that he hates ALS, he loves raising money to find a cure for it, but he isn't so sure the ice bucket gig is the best way to go. 

CRUFICY HIM!



like mr. tornado (not sure if he pronounces it "tore-NAH-doe," or "tore-NAY-doe," although the latter certainly is more apt in this instance), i pointed out some things about the challenge that didn't quite sit right with me, either. and i learned something from having done so: don't ever criticize something that raises money for a good cause.

also like mr. tornado, i am concerned that the focus of this challenge is less on the disease and more on the person dumping cold water on his head. if that's not true, then why don't any of the pictures/videos that i've seen of the people getting cold-soaked include a factoid about ALS, for example - to help educate all of us? or a remark about someone they know who is suffering from the disease? or why don't any of the pictures/videos include an update about the total amount of money raised so far? not to mention, give us the address of where to donate, for pete's sake! but, no. the pictures/videos that i have seen (i'm sure there are exceptions) are only about the person doing the stunt. i think there's something wrong with that, um, picture. video.

this also has the feel of the "WWJD" bracelets that were so popular a few years back. what may have started with good intentions quickly melted into just the next fad.

mostly, though, i wanted to engage others in a discussion of whether or not doing a good thing for a wrong - or partly wrong - reason matters. i think it does!

i think there are times - and this, actually, may in fact be one of them - when the benefit of doing something good with wrong or partly wrong motives does outweigh the wrong motives. do i think it is better to raise more than 41 million dollars for wrong - or partly wrong reasons - to solve a hideous disease than to not raise any money at all? of course, i do.

do i think it is better - and an ideal for which all of us, (goodness gracious, myself most especially included) ought to strive (and to take a really good look at ourselves about) - to raise money solely for the benefit of the benefactor? and that all of the warm fuzzies that we get when our facebook fans chuckle at us and give us high-fives be damned?


yes. 

of course, i do.

leaving mass only to have to turn right back around and go to confession

i went to coffee hour after mass this morning and i met a new person who had a lot to say and she said it fast. in ten minutes time, i learned:

that she hurt her ankle and she has it wrapped but she hasn't gotten x-rays and she doesn't know how it happened but she thinks it may have been when the cat landed on her foot and she used to be in the military and her husband used to be in the military and her father was awarded 8 brown stars in the pacific theater but he doesn't like to talk about the war and for 30 years she and her husband didn't have central air in their house - they just had window air conditioners - but this year they finally put in central air and wouldn't you just know it - this summer hasn't been all that hot take for example, today. today is cool and it feels like fall! the weather guys said it's supposed to rain but only here and there so how in the world are you supposed to plan for anything? she has a dog who is part dachshund and part beagle and the dog's mom is the one who was a dachshund and so she always feels a little sorry for that poor little dachshund but the thing is, her dog likes to eat remote controls and he has eaten 6 of them so far but she and her husband finally got smart and now they put the remotes up high where the dog can't reach them. she likes to garden and this year she planted tomatoes but she doesn't like tomatoes but her neighbor, who also likes to garden but can't because she just had her hip replaced, likes tomatoes so she gives her neighbor all her tomatoes and just keeps the green peppers for herself because she and her husband like stuffed peppers and what they do is they make stuffed peppers and freeze 'em and then when there's 2 feet of snow out there in january they can enjoy a homemade meal straight from the garden which she thinks all of us should be doing - unless, of course, we've just had our hip replaced. she also planted green onions and she pulled one up yesterday and ate it but it was SO STRONG that it gave her a stomach ache for the rest of the day and it doesn't really feel too good today if you wanna know the truth. and usually, for these coffee hours, she makes desserts and she had planned to make blueberry blintzes for today but after eating that onion and her stomach feeling the way it does, well, she skipped the baking. she also volunteers at the V.A. and have i heard about all the problems at the V.A ? - (no time for me to answer) - well! the problems at the V.A. are terrible! they're terrible (if she'd given me the chance, i would have agreed) and she sure would like to know what the visiting priest from poland who we had at mass today thinks of this so-called "land of milk and honey" country of ours! she also has an uncle named george wilson and when i hear the words "george wilson" what do i think of? - (again, no time to answer) - well! what i should think of is dennis the menace and how dennis used to pester elderly next-door neighbor, mr. (george) wilson, and how she and her husband always taught their children not to pester old people.

so. now i need to confession.

but not to coffee hour. at least not for a long, long time. 

because the government cares about you, that's why

so, by now, we all know that the obama administration doesn't want us to have a hamburger tomorrow. unless it's made out of turkey. or chicken. which, if you have that, isn't a hamburger. 

the obama administration also doesn't want us to have a coke. or a sprite. and, God forbid (God is my choice of words,of course)....God forbid, not a mountain dew. what the obama administration wants you to have tomorrow is water. you're allowed to float a piece of fruit - of your choice- (whoa!!!! your choice!!!!)in it, but it must. be. water.

as for dessert, the kabosh has been putteth upon. we're allowed to have fruit. but that. is. it. nothing else.



now, granted......there's no law (yet) that says we can't eat these hideous things but i can't help but hear a certain set of very familiar words just ringing and ringing and ringing in my ears.......

"slippery slope."

(or is it, "it's my body!" that i'm hearing?)



i'll have mine with lettuce and tomato, heinz 57 and french fried potatoes. (white bun, too.) 


happy fourth, y'all. :)

yay for amy adams/boo for everyone who says yay for amy adams

i am glad that amy adams gave up her first class seat for a united states solider sitting in coach. but, i am sad that so many of you are glad.


this shouldn't be news. this shouldn't be all over social media, with everyone liking and sharing and high-fiving. this should be ho-hum, nice girl. not to mention that the kudos should be going to the soldier, not to amy adams. but the solider has kinda gotten lost in this story - except to the extent that he being a soldier boosts our adoration of amy adams! i don't think amy adams would be proud of us for that.

this certainly shouldn't capture everyone's attention because it's somebody from hollywood. this should be routine stuff, even for someone in hollywood. especially for someone in hollywood. we should expect that the rich and the privileged would step down and take a lower berth. because that's what we've all been taught to do. many of us have been taught it from a Christian perspective, but even those of you who don't buy into that surely know by now that being high and mighty ain't where it's at. 

and yet.....we are surprised. surprised that someone high and mighty actually did what the high and mighty are supposed to do. what all of us are supposed to do.


i hope we wouldn't be surprised if you did it.


and, sir? thank you for your service.



 

happy father's day to mom

women can't have it both ways. they can't go decades telling men that they are about as necessary to a woman as a bicycle is to a fish  and then be outraged when men bail on fatherhood.


in my practice, i hardly ever see a child with a dad. but i routinely see moms who are mad as hell about it. maybe these women should have given a little thought to "raise up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it" and paraphrased those words a bit.

today, most of the moms that i see in my job will be saying - or at least thinking - all manner of horrible things about their kids' dad. not that these dads are heroes. hardly. 

but if we believe that we have a collective impact on one another - (and if you don't believe that, you're nuts) - then we can't ignore the truth. and if you tell someone long enough that he's not important - or worse - well......what exactly did you think was gonna happen?

as much as i wish a happy father's day to all the good dads out there, i wish a happy one to all the lousy ones more. they need our prayers more than the good dads who already get it and are already doing it.

and more than wishing the lousy fathers a happy father's day, i need to wish the angry moms one, too.



now. go get your bikes out of the trash.

look is more than a magazine that stopped being published in 1971.

i attended a seminar on autsim spectrum disorder this week and while i didn't learn too much of anything that was new, i was reminded of the importance of.......looking.

the seminar presenter asked us to name off some things that would lead us to assume that two people, if we were to look at them out in public somewhere, were friends. as opposed to strangers - or even just acquaintances.

the group said things like smiling. sitting or standing relatively close together. making eye contact. leaning in (no, not sheryl sandberg's leaning in - the literal leaning in). hugging. taking a selfie! 

stuff like that.

so then, what the presenter did was, he walked over to one of the seminar attendees, sat down right beside her, and leaned in. gave her a hug. looked into her eyes. smiled at her. pretended to take a picture of them together. and then he said to her......"you're my friend!"

and even though it was just an academic exercise, she scooted back. she looked wary. actually, she looked like "what the??"

the presenter then asked us what he had done wrong. "i did everything you guys told me friends do! i sat close to her. i smiled at her. i hugged her. but she backed away! what did i do wrong?"

well, said one of the attendees, you can't just do those things one time and expect to be friends. friendship takes time.

"time?" said the presenter, "take time???? where do i take the time? do i take the time over there in the corner? or do i take the time over to the woman i would like to be my friend? where do i take the time? and........where is the time.......so that i can take it? i don't even know where the time is. is it in one of you guys's purses?"

no, no, said another attendee. you don't really take time. what we mean is, being friends is something you build. it doesn't happen right away.

"something i build? like legos? where are the legos???"

the point, obviously, was to drive home for those of us who are not on the autism spectrum how confusing and hard life can be for some of the ones who are on the spectrum. that what we just take for granted can be rocket science for someone with autism.

and the bigger point, at least for me, was the reminder that it isn't just those who are on the autism spectrum who find life confusing and hard. we all find life confusing and hard. in one way or another - for one reason or another. 

one of the primary skills that clinicians who work with people who are autistic try to teach their clients to do is to make eye contact. to look another person in the eye when you talk to them. sometimes, to look them in the eye even if you're not talking to them.

look them in the eye, we teach autistic children.

look me in the eye, autistic children teach us.

love the one you're with.

not necessarily something huge, but something. you are. why do you think no one else is?



of all the things that drives me crazy about this life, the biggest is a lack of understanding.


hell, it's easy to be empathetic for obvious victims, such as the poor. or the discriminated against. but, to paraphrase Christ, what's the big deal if you're empathetic to people who obviously need empathy? anyone (almost) can do that. big whoop.


what's really impressive is if you can take some of that "easy empathy" of yours and apply it smack dab where every instinct inside you tells you not to. 


you are not a good (enough) person if you don't love the ones you don't love. or like. or get. or agree with.


you are if you do.


boom.

now that black history month is over, let me say this:

one of slang's main purposes is to unite. and it accomplishes that quite well. sadly, it also unties. there are few things that make one more of an outsider than not speaking the same language as everybody else. 

one of the rudest and most unkind things a person can do is to speak in a foreign language in the presence of people who don't understand it. they may think they're just jabbering between or among themselves and it's no big deal but it is a big deal. it's saying, we're in and you're out. (i always admired my ex-husband, a swede, for never doing this. i loved him for it, actually.)



i have always thought that what divides blacks and whites in this country as much as skin color - sometimes even more -  is how we each talk. i remember taking a cultural sensitivity quiz in high school once. we were given a list of, i don't know, maybe 25 slang words and phrases that blacks typically used in that day. we were supposed to translate their meaning. hardly any of the white kids got any of 'em right. it was like trying to read mandarin. 

the whole point of the exercise was to make the white kids more sensitive to the black kids. that's not what it did. what it did was make the white kids feel like outsiders. and when one of the white kids raised his hand and said, this little test of yours makes me feel like an outsider, most of the black students cheered. they cheered one of those "now you have some glimpse into what it feels like" cheers. which is to say, not a cheer at all. because cheers are meant to inspire, uplift, and unite. this one tore us further apart.

i can still hear those cheers ringing in my ears. it was cruel. it wasn't as cruel as beating a slave, but it did nothing to advance our getting along. the whole damned thing backfired. i can pinpoint to that day when race relations got worse at my school. 

there isn't anything i can do about the color of my skin and there's nothing you can do about the color of yours. but there's plenty we can do about how we talk to each other.


provided, of course, we really want to.

you crazy voters, you!

a friend tweeted this week that she doesn't understand why people fail to vote in their self-interest. i don't, either. 

except, maybe i do.



first of all, let's get it straight, right from the get-go, that i am not advocating that we go out there and be masochists. life has plenty of pain and strife without us running around creating it. that's A.

B is, your own self-interest shouldn't be the holiest thing. mattera fact, it oughta be pretty low on the list.


that said, i doubt that most people who vote against their self-interest do it because their intent is to be holy. they probably do it because they don't understand what they're doing. but i would like to submit that what would be glorious is for someone to know that what they are voting for is not in their self-interest but they do it anyway. because they don't think that their self-interest is the number one thing. maybe there are at least a handful of people out there who vote for somebody else's self-interest because, well.......it's the right thing to do! even if it does cause you some personal pain. especially if it causes you some personal pain!


i think of all the people through the years who (whom? i never know) i have heard say that because they don't have children, they don't vote for school levies. that's self-interest for ya.


i'm hardly an economist  and i don't know where i stand on the minimum wage debate, but i know this much -  minimum wage isn't about the person who pays it. it's about the person who receives it. i understand that there are a lot of variables to take into consideration where minimum wage is concerned - there always are when we're talkin' money - but if a smart economist can prove that raising the minimum wage hurts the minimum wage earner, then we ought not to raise it. and if a smart economist can prove that raising the minimum wage helps the minimum wage earner (without devastating - just, perhaps, hurting a little -  the minimum wage payer) then we ought to raise it. 

(but i don't know if we should raise it or not. because i'm not an economist. hell, i can barely add.)


my point is this - why does everything have to be done in our own self-interest? i think that's banal.


let's rise.

the new evangelization

i spoke, by invitation, at a friend's home church a week ago about my ex-husband walking out on me and how that horribleness brought me to a deep - and meaningful- faith.

i had never been to a home church before. 

i don't know if all home churches are like this one but this one was sorta like doctors without borders. well, without doctors, too. :)

it was in a living room and everybody just sat wherever. and the kids - i believe there may have been literally 10,000 of 'em - alternately listened, played, drank juice, wandered around, played, wandered around some more, and were cute as Christmas.

there were, as my friend the minister pointed out, no stained glass windows. no candles, no hymnals, no altar, no sacraments, no liturgy. not even a Bible......which i found surprising. 

what there was, however, was glory to God, amazing music, deep testimony, and a boatload of love - for Christ and for each other. bigger hearts of gold i will never find anywhere.



pope john paul II, in several of his encyclicals, homilies, and a buncha other stuff, talked about "the new evangelization" and how all catholics - not just the priests and the deacons and the nuns - but all catholics - are commanded to participate in it. what is the new evangelization? basically, bringing people - most of whom in this day and age probably already know of Christ - to Christ. moreover, bringing them to Christ via the Catholic (capital "C") church.

as with the "first" evangelization - the one which the apostles undertook - the "new" evangelization is not easy. stepping on people's toes - especially the toes of good people -  is not fun - for the step-ee or the step-er. (and stepping on toes is the least of it.)

our world does not tolerate stepping on toes and it especially does not tolerate evangelization - unless it's the kind of stepping on toes and "evangelization" that the new mayor of new york city, bill de blasio, favors, i.e. radical left/anything goes stuff. now, that will win you some friends. (as long as part of the anything that goes stuff doesn't include......

religion.)


especially not Catholicism.


(the mormons don't fare any better.)

most of all, love is a COMMANDMENT.

lotsa political hate these past few weeks and it reminds me why i prefer love:

• love lets you appreciate vanilla ice cream. 
• love lets your dog sit on the new chair.
• love takes chocolate chip cookies and doesn't add anything to "improve" them.
• love is when your 4-year old granddaughter beams that she can touch the bottom of the pool.
• love is a nathan's hot dog.
• love is how after days and days of humidity, you can finally open the windows.
• love is how when you open the windows, you can see a neighbor walk by.
• love is facebook because now you know whatever happened to all your friends.
• love is sweeping off the sidewalk after the storm and you sweep off the sidewalk of the guy next door, too, and it never even crosses your mind what race he is.
• love is how if you burn the dinner, the people who love you don't care.
• love is not yelling.
• love is a drive-in movie. a drive-in movie in pajamas is double love.
• love is not going to church in jeans because do you want people wearing jeans to your black-tie wedding?
• love is how nice it is to go through the drive-through and pay for the folks behind you, too.
• love is a banana split.
• a root beer float.
• strawberry shortcake.

love is not hating anyone in the news.

how does it work that only i am but you're not?

let's talk geometry.

an interesting angle arose this week at the intersection of the conversation about race and abortion rights, and i learned something new: that while it is possible (and not only possible, definite) that white people are racist even if they don't know it, women who support abortion can't likewise be mistaken.

a white person is a racist, period. that's what we've been told. and if a white person responds with, now wait a minute, i don't think i am a racist, well, shut up - because you are. you are racist and you misunderstand everything if you think you're not/don't.

however, if you try to tell a woman who supports abortion that perhaps she misunderstands everything and she shouldn't be supporting abortion rights even if she thinks she should, you're also told to shut up.

how can an entire race be something and not recognize it but a smaller group of people, i.e. women who support abortion, can't be something and not recognize it?

i got an A in geometry back when i was in school.

but i don't get this "new math."

  

jason collins and tim tebow

jason collins comes out as gay and the media high five him to smithereens. tim tebow comes out as Christian and the media tell him to pipe down.


so, let me get this, ahem, straight: what you do in the privacy of your own bedroom should be made public? and following Christ's example, which was totally public, shouldn't make it out your front door.


????????????


well, fine.


as they say.............


when God closes a door,


He opens a window.


(or, as in this case, a blog post.)

bullying - in quotes

there's bullying and then there's being mean. but try telling that to the world.


calling someone fat or stupid or ugly or even fag isn't bullying. it's mean. just like spanking a kid isn't child abuse - it's harsh.


it is no wonder that we have lost perspective on the subject of bullying because we have lost perspective on the subject of everything. we have lost so much perspective that actor will smith was recently quoted as saying something to the effect that he and his wife don't punish - or discipline- their kids. what they do instead is, they expect and require their kids to be able to defend whatever it is they did. if they can defend it (what kid can't?), then fine. no consequence.

oy vey.


but back to the point. the point is, there is a difference between being bullied and being treated rotten. in the former case, a kid is not expected to be able to cope. in the latter, he is. or should be. one of the biggest problems we have today with quote unquote bullying and with being treated rotten is that there aren't many parents around - especially parents who go to church and practice something higher than their own opinions - there aren't enough of those kind of parents around who still take the time - the tiiiiiime - and the thought - the thought! - and the energy (all the energy's being used up at "the gym") to actually sit down, consistently, day after day after one moment of social injustice after the next and teach. the. kids. to. cope. teach the kids to return hatred with love. instead of returning hatred with a lawsuit.


i remember all the occasions in my life as a kid when i would come home from school in tears. because someone had said or done something really mean or unkind or hurtful to me - what we would today call "bullying" - and i remember that on every single occasion, my parents, doing their job as parents, explained a little 3rd grade (and then 5th grade and 8th grade and senior year) psychology to me. and the lesson was always the same - not because my parents couldn't think of anything new to say - but because the lesson is the same: people who are mean feel way worse about themselves than they do about me. which is why they are mean. so, feel sorry for them. be nice to them. help them.

pray for them.


(yeah. my parents learned that in church. i  mean, they learned it in their parents' church.)