Oh, where to start? This weekend, we drove to Colorado Springs to see our niece and her family and take in an Air Force football game. The missus and I had gone to one other AF game a few years ago as guests of a retired Colonel, and enjoyed ourselves immensely. We got the opportunity to go again at the invitation of our niece, who is a Chief Master Sergeant stationed there. Our older son and his wife met us there. We had a great time with the family and at the game. However, there were some things I noticed that didn’t have much to do with either of those topics (family and game) that I’d like to share.
• I don’t know if stimulus money is buying all of the road construction in Southwest Kansas or not, but there’s money somewhere that’s buying all of the tearing up of the roadways and bridges.
• It hasn’t rained in awhile in Eastern Colorado. It shows.
• There isn’t much between Kit Carson and Colorado Springs. A couple of wide spots…Wild Horse, Yoder, Rush. And Ellicot has a convenience store. Other than that, it’s about 80 miles with no services. And not many people.
• I had almost forgotten just how black the night can be when there are no lights and no moon to foul it up.
• I had also forgotten that the air is noticeably thinner there, and it’s not hard to tell once you are there and exert just a little.
• There have been rumblings of the Academy favoring Christianity over other religions. As far as I can see (and from what my niece tells me…and she is in a position to know), they are bending over backwards and doing the splits to accommodate all religious faiths equally. Seems to me to be much ado about nothing…little people wanting to make a big splash.
• I was caught off guard a time or two when a cadet addressed me as “sir”. I sort of looked around to see who he was talking to…and it was me.
• If the traffic in our part of Colorado Springs was any indication, the economy is doing “real well” there. Either that or a lot of people are burning through savings and credit in order to drive.
And now, some things about the family.
• Big dogs are nice, but I’m glad Chief is staying out there instead of being with us (no offense, Chief).
• Having a daughter instead of a couple of sons would have been a “whole ‘nuther world” for us. I think I’m glad God gave us what He gave us (No offense, Kayla. I think I would have been thoroughly befuddled by girls.)
• Cole, there will come a time when your mother won’t let you entertain a friend who happens to be a girl at your house when your parents aren’t home…even for a few minutes. Enjoy it now while you can.
• Children are indeed a gift from God.
And now a couple of observations about the game.
• When F-16’s fly over at low altitude, then turn straight up and open the throttles, they rumble even your toenails and tonsils.
• Those F-16’s were only a few (5 to 10) seconds early for the flyover…amazing timing given their speed. (BTW, the official name for the F-16 Viper is the "Fighting Falcon".)
• Cadets on the march are an amazing sight.
• The falcon had his own mind following the working demonstration. “I’ll come back and let you pick me up when I’m ready,” he seemed to be saying. Way to go, falcon!
• The concessions were very reasonably priced…the parking was free…there were many people to guide those who were arriving and departing. Good job. KU could learn a lesson from them.
• Parachutes are so controllable nowadays, one can guide himself down to practically wherever he likes.
• The key of C is a horrid key in which to try to sing the National Anthem.
• The music emanating from the stadium speakers during “downtime” was even more horrid. Enough, already.
• Free tickets on the 40 yard line, free concessions, free parking…what else could one ask for? Thanks, Angie, for everything.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
Grace to Live
Our church sponsored a fun night at one of the local elementary schools this past week. We provided hot dogs, chips, drinks, popcorn, and games for parents and kids to play. We went to help with the festivities, and as I often do, I stopped for a few minutes and just watched people as they went through the hot dog line.
Most all of the families were working class, and many were, it seemed, of the poorer working class. That is a reasonable assumption as the neighborhood is generally the same. Many were of an ethnic variety besides anglo, and there was a good mix of younger and older, male and female.
Many of the adults who were there seemed to show the strain of living and raising a family. There were very few frills, no foo-foo outfits (whatever they are), and there were a lot of grizzled, dirty hands and tired, worn faces. The kids were excited, loud, and expended energy at a phenomenal rate. (If we could only harness that energy, I think we could solve the energy crisis.)
I could only imagine some of the issues that the adults in line may have been dealing with at the moment. Lack of health care, out of a job, being evicted, working long hours for substandard pay, no food in the house, kids not doing well, grandma living with the family, older brother in jail…you name it…it came through that line that evening.
In spite of all of that, however, the parents (and grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc) came to the fun night. They brought their kids. They had, for a few minutes, some time when they didn’t have to worry about being safe or warm or fed.
My problems and issues pale in comparison to some of this, and pale even more to what I know some of my friends and loved ones are working with. The human spirit is as tough as nails. God grants to each of us the grace to live, love, and celebrate Him as we carry on in a fallen world…with the promise of a future that is beyond anything we can know or understand.
Most all of the families were working class, and many were, it seemed, of the poorer working class. That is a reasonable assumption as the neighborhood is generally the same. Many were of an ethnic variety besides anglo, and there was a good mix of younger and older, male and female.
Many of the adults who were there seemed to show the strain of living and raising a family. There were very few frills, no foo-foo outfits (whatever they are), and there were a lot of grizzled, dirty hands and tired, worn faces. The kids were excited, loud, and expended energy at a phenomenal rate. (If we could only harness that energy, I think we could solve the energy crisis.)
I could only imagine some of the issues that the adults in line may have been dealing with at the moment. Lack of health care, out of a job, being evicted, working long hours for substandard pay, no food in the house, kids not doing well, grandma living with the family, older brother in jail…you name it…it came through that line that evening.
In spite of all of that, however, the parents (and grandparents, uncles, aunts, etc) came to the fun night. They brought their kids. They had, for a few minutes, some time when they didn’t have to worry about being safe or warm or fed.
My problems and issues pale in comparison to some of this, and pale even more to what I know some of my friends and loved ones are working with. The human spirit is as tough as nails. God grants to each of us the grace to live, love, and celebrate Him as we carry on in a fallen world…with the promise of a future that is beyond anything we can know or understand.
Friday, October 22, 2010
One More Political Writing
As I said on Facebook, I think I’ve figured out why I am so disappointed with politics and the elections this year. I’ve always wondered just why it is that I can’t seem to get enthused about a candidate these past several years, and I think I now know. It only took me umpteen years to figure this out, and maybe it doesn’t apply to you, but it sure does to me.
Republican and Democratic candidates both may say lots of words, but when they’re boiled down to the base stock, what they are saying is nothing more or less than the current Republican or Democratic lines, straight from the party. There are no independent thinkers, it seems, and no one who is courageous enough to be his or her own person. The parties both tell us that they welcome divergent views, but heaven help the candidate that treads outside the lines set by the party.
You may think the minor party candidates are better…not so. Libertarian, Reform, Tea Party, you name it, they spout the party line. Their ideas just seem to be a little kookier than the ones of the major parties, although no party has an exclusive hold on stupidity and knot-headedness.
Where is the individual who thinks for himself? Where is the person who has ideas never expressed by anyone else? Where is the woman or man who isn’t afraid to stand up and articulate a core belief rather than the party line?
I watched part of the Wisconsin senatorial debate tonight on C-SPAN between Senator Feingold and his Republican opponent. Although the Senator has a record of reaching across the aisle (McCain-Feingold legislation, for one), and for saying what he thinks, and voting not always in accordance with his party, he really didn’t have any new ideas, nor did he say anything that showed he thought for himself. His Republican opponent didn’t even answer some of the questions posed to him for fear of saying something out of line with Republican principles.
Call me cynical. Call me uninterested. Or call me sarcastic. I don’t care. I’m disappointed, and I’m angry. And I think I’m in the company of lots of others in this nation of ours. Who knows? But one thing I do know. I’ll vote this year even though I don’t want to, and even though I may have to hold my nose a time or two. Otherwise, I’d have no cause to gripe and complain as I do.
Republican and Democratic candidates both may say lots of words, but when they’re boiled down to the base stock, what they are saying is nothing more or less than the current Republican or Democratic lines, straight from the party. There are no independent thinkers, it seems, and no one who is courageous enough to be his or her own person. The parties both tell us that they welcome divergent views, but heaven help the candidate that treads outside the lines set by the party.
You may think the minor party candidates are better…not so. Libertarian, Reform, Tea Party, you name it, they spout the party line. Their ideas just seem to be a little kookier than the ones of the major parties, although no party has an exclusive hold on stupidity and knot-headedness.
Where is the individual who thinks for himself? Where is the person who has ideas never expressed by anyone else? Where is the woman or man who isn’t afraid to stand up and articulate a core belief rather than the party line?
I watched part of the Wisconsin senatorial debate tonight on C-SPAN between Senator Feingold and his Republican opponent. Although the Senator has a record of reaching across the aisle (McCain-Feingold legislation, for one), and for saying what he thinks, and voting not always in accordance with his party, he really didn’t have any new ideas, nor did he say anything that showed he thought for himself. His Republican opponent didn’t even answer some of the questions posed to him for fear of saying something out of line with Republican principles.
Call me cynical. Call me uninterested. Or call me sarcastic. I don’t care. I’m disappointed, and I’m angry. And I think I’m in the company of lots of others in this nation of ours. Who knows? But one thing I do know. I’ll vote this year even though I don’t want to, and even though I may have to hold my nose a time or two. Otherwise, I’d have no cause to gripe and complain as I do.
Sunday, October 10, 2010
What They Are Made Of
For some time I’ve been wanting to take pictures of things around the house that have sentimental or family historic value, label them somehow, and write a brief summary of what it is and why it has value. My boys haven’t a clue what the story is behind many of these items and would just consider them to be old. They would probably discard or sell many of them.
Doing this will at least give them the story behind the item and allow them to make a more intelligent decision regarding keep or toss. It will also give me a chance to put some of my thoughts on paper, for whatever that is worth.
I decided yesterday that if I was going to do this, there was nothing like the present to start. I took my camera, checked the batteries, and began. Thinking I would have 20 to 25 photos, I started in the back yard with the “memorial weenie sticks”.
I took 71 photos, and know I am not finished yet. I am amazed at the number of things I found that have stories behind them, used to belong to an ancestor, or are important for some other reason. I’ve written a “commentary” about each photo after numbering the photo by using the number as the file name. As technology changes, I will have to migrate these to the newer formats. I can also just have prints made and print out the commentary, put it away, and tell the boys about it.
I don’t know the full story behind many of the things that are old to me and were handed down by my parents. I only know snippets and my memory may or may not be reliable. I am writing, however, what I think I know about the item, even if I may not be really sure of it. I think they need to know those thoughts that I have attached to the items. They can make their own decisions.
It’s been good to write this stuff down. I will probably review what I’ve written and add/subtract to/from it as we go on and as I recall more. I’m not certain how the boys will react, but hope they will appreciate it for what I intend it to be…a passing of history, not necessarily just things, to them for their appreciation. May they ever and always know and understand what they are made of.
Doing this will at least give them the story behind the item and allow them to make a more intelligent decision regarding keep or toss. It will also give me a chance to put some of my thoughts on paper, for whatever that is worth.
I decided yesterday that if I was going to do this, there was nothing like the present to start. I took my camera, checked the batteries, and began. Thinking I would have 20 to 25 photos, I started in the back yard with the “memorial weenie sticks”.
I took 71 photos, and know I am not finished yet. I am amazed at the number of things I found that have stories behind them, used to belong to an ancestor, or are important for some other reason. I’ve written a “commentary” about each photo after numbering the photo by using the number as the file name. As technology changes, I will have to migrate these to the newer formats. I can also just have prints made and print out the commentary, put it away, and tell the boys about it.
I don’t know the full story behind many of the things that are old to me and were handed down by my parents. I only know snippets and my memory may or may not be reliable. I am writing, however, what I think I know about the item, even if I may not be really sure of it. I think they need to know those thoughts that I have attached to the items. They can make their own decisions.
It’s been good to write this stuff down. I will probably review what I’ve written and add/subtract to/from it as we go on and as I recall more. I’m not certain how the boys will react, but hope they will appreciate it for what I intend it to be…a passing of history, not necessarily just things, to them for their appreciation. May they ever and always know and understand what they are made of.
Friday, October 01, 2010
Paying It Forward
I was working today in transportation instead of my regular job. We have a van we use to transport residents to doctor’s appointments, pick up new residents, etc. The regular person who does that needed the day off, and I substituted for her today.
It was a busy day. I made a total of ten pickups and deliveries today, most of which were fine-tuned in timing so I could just finish one and get to the next. Some were taking people to the doctor or to dialysis. There were some, though, that were pickups of new residents that had been dismissed from the hospital and needed further rehabilitation and care.
I was at one of the urban hospitals picking up an older gentleman. He had weakness on one side due to a CVA (stroke), and he had some other issues as well. Because of his weakness, he couldn’t sit in the wheelchair very well, nor could he maneuver into or out of his chair on his own. We had to use the lift to get him into the wheelchair so he could come to our place for rehab.
The man seemed at times to be somewhat confused as well. The combination of apparent confusion, listing to one side, and inability to sit in the chair straight made a prime opportunity for him to just tumble forward out of the chair. To help cope with that, he would tend to grab anything he could with his good hand and not let go willingly.
I got him into the elevator of the hospital and was on my way down when the car stopped to pick up another passenger. We then continued down to the first floor. By that time the resident had grabbed the handrail in the elevator car and was listing rather precariously to one side. The lady who was riding with us held the door open for us, and I worked with the man to get him to loosen his grip on the handrail as well as keep him sort of upright in the chair.
As I exited the car, the woman put her hand on my shoulder and said, “God bless you.”
I’m not sure what she was thinking, but I suspect she may have been thinking that I was taking home my dad to take care of him, or some such. She didn’t have any way of knowing, I think, that I would have him in my care for only a few more minutes.
However, I certainly appreciated her comment and compassion for me. It gave me a lift that lasted the rest of the day. I hope that sometime soon, in some situation, someone pays forward to her the gift she gave me today.
It was a busy day. I made a total of ten pickups and deliveries today, most of which were fine-tuned in timing so I could just finish one and get to the next. Some were taking people to the doctor or to dialysis. There were some, though, that were pickups of new residents that had been dismissed from the hospital and needed further rehabilitation and care.
I was at one of the urban hospitals picking up an older gentleman. He had weakness on one side due to a CVA (stroke), and he had some other issues as well. Because of his weakness, he couldn’t sit in the wheelchair very well, nor could he maneuver into or out of his chair on his own. We had to use the lift to get him into the wheelchair so he could come to our place for rehab.
The man seemed at times to be somewhat confused as well. The combination of apparent confusion, listing to one side, and inability to sit in the chair straight made a prime opportunity for him to just tumble forward out of the chair. To help cope with that, he would tend to grab anything he could with his good hand and not let go willingly.
I got him into the elevator of the hospital and was on my way down when the car stopped to pick up another passenger. We then continued down to the first floor. By that time the resident had grabbed the handrail in the elevator car and was listing rather precariously to one side. The lady who was riding with us held the door open for us, and I worked with the man to get him to loosen his grip on the handrail as well as keep him sort of upright in the chair.
As I exited the car, the woman put her hand on my shoulder and said, “God bless you.”
I’m not sure what she was thinking, but I suspect she may have been thinking that I was taking home my dad to take care of him, or some such. She didn’t have any way of knowing, I think, that I would have him in my care for only a few more minutes.
However, I certainly appreciated her comment and compassion for me. It gave me a lift that lasted the rest of the day. I hope that sometime soon, in some situation, someone pays forward to her the gift she gave me today.
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