The Lerner Method

This is the face of the American bureaucracy. She is stern, emotionless, and incredibly pissed that Congress would have the unmitigated gall to question her competence. Those pursed lips, those you can’t touch me, I’m with the IRS eyes, that Beatles-chic haircut, all practically scream at you, “TAKE A NUMBER”!  She has the look of someone who is thinking, “When I get back to the office I’m going to audit every one of you assholes.”

But the best thing about Lois Lerner, the Director of Tax-Exempt Organizations at the Internal Revenue Service, was her testimony. The Congressmen had requested her appearance to offer her a chance to explain how the harassment of those organizations applying for tax-exempt status that happened to be politically conservative could have taken place on her watch, while liberal organizations like those of the President’s brother, were being approved in less than three weeks, a turn-around time unheard of bureaucratic circles, the equivalent of a nanosecond in government. Ms. Lerner, with cool contempt, invoked her 5^th amendment rights against self-incrimination thusly, “I have done nothing wrong, and I will not be answering any of your questions.”

First of all, it is my understanding that one can’t offer a defense of one’s actions, then invoke the 5^th. That would be like offering testimony that doesn’t allow cross examination, but what do I know?  Regardless of its legality, these now famous words will come in quite handily if I’m ever audited by Ms. Lerner’s employer. Come to think of it, I can think of many times in my life when I might have been well served to invoke the “Lerner Method” when being questioned about my actions:

                                                          #1

 Mom: Douglas, would you care to explain why there are muddy footprints from the back door all the way to your bedroom when I’ve told you a thousand times to take your shoes off before you come in the house??!!

Me: I have done nothing wrong, and I will not be answering any of your questions.

Mom: Oh, well…ok.

                                                         #2

 Coach: Dunnevant!! If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times, never make the first out of an inning at third base. Why in hell did you try to go from first to third on a base hit to left field??

Me: I have done nothing wrong and I will not be answering any of your questions.

Coach: Sure, Well, keep up the good work, son.

 

                                                               #3

 Pam: Honey, look at this plate. What do you see? Isn’t that some sort of spinach baked on? Doesn’t that suggest that this plate might not be clean? When you are emptying the dish washer, would it kill you to actually look at the dishes to make sure they aren’t still dirty??

Me: I have done nothing wrong and I will not be answering any of your questions.

Pam: Ok, and let me say how much I appreciate your effort.

Canadian Generosity vs. American Incompetence

We have all been terrified these past few weeks watching the devastation visited upon the good people of Oklahoma by a series of powerful tornados; entire houses lifted off their foundations and whirled about like so many vegetables in a blender, children sucked out of cars by the force of killer winds. It has been a brutal thing to watch and even more difficult to contemplate. But while most of us are sitting around contemplating, an amazing group of Canadians decided to do something about the suffering.

Our neighbors to the north, moved by compassion for suffering people a thousand miles away went to work gathering life sustaining food, water and clothing. Before long there was a tractor-trailer full on its way, sent by a Christian relief group called the Windsor Lifeline Outreach. I have always had a fondness for all things Canadian, such a beautiful country with which we share a border and with whom we have been at peace for over two hundred years. But to learn that a group of them would be so moved to action by the suffering of Americans so far away, raised my admiration for Canada to an even higher place.

Unfortunately, our Department of Homeland Security believes that no good deed should go unpunished. Ever-vigilant, American officials at the border refused to let the shipment proceed until all 20,000 kilograms of food, blankets and diapers onboard was itemized in alphabetical order with the country of origin of each product noted. A spokesman for Windsor Lifeline Outreach, Dennis Suave, said that it was a physical impossibility to do the paperwork required to get the perishable food to Oklahoma before it spoils.

Defenders of all things government will be quick to point out that I would be singing a different tune if a nuclear bomb was hidden cleverly inside a package of Huggies. Lovers of the all-powerful State will make the case that the Windsor Outreach people should not have shipped perishable food in the first place, that this is what happens when mere civilians get involved in disaster relief instead of leaving it to government experts. Big government types will applaud Homeland Security for doing their job, keeping us safe from rampant, out of control Canadian humanitarianism.

The first casualty of the War on Terror was the Bill of Rights, the second apparently is our common sense. Despite our government’s ham-fisted response, I would like to thank the good people of Canada for their big hearted gesture of good will, and offer my apologies for our inability as a nation to overcome the stupidity of our bureaucracy.

Paper or Plastic?

When the bag boy at the checkout line asks if you want paper or plastic, why on God’s green earth would anyone say “plastic”? This is the question of the day. But before I answer it, I must point out that my use of the term “bag boy” in no way was meant as a slight to the many fine bag GIRLS out there. The use of bag boy was simple an all-inclusive term, gender neutral, meant to refer to all the hard-working bag persons employed in the grocery business. Perhaps I should just say bag person, since if I said bag girl, it might be misunderstood as bag lady, an entirely different thing……..(see what political correctness has done to the English language?)

Anyway, about this paper vs. plastic deal, the mere existence of those wispy-thin litter-makers is proof that sometimes, “progress” is too clever by half. What imbecile decided that paper grocery bags needed to be replaced? Probably some tree-hugging enviro-idiot. “”We need to save the trees from the greedy capitalist logging industry, so let’s create grocery bags out of thin plastic that will clog landfills the world over for the thousand years it will take for them to biodegrade!”  Pin-headed idiots!

Not only are plastic bags an environmental hazard, they are practically worthless for their intended purpose since if one bag contains anything heavier than a roll of paper towels and a bag of chips, a hole will rip the bottom wide open. The worse part is, when you get them home, the bags don’t stand up when you place them on the floor. You let go of the thing and suddenly cans of soup and apples are rolling across the kitchen floor every which way.

Contrast that with the sturdy versatility and ruggedness of the conventional paper grocery bag. They stand up straight and tall when full, they double as trash bag liners, book covers, head gear for embarrassed sports fans, even present wrapping paper for men. A question to all you dog owners out there, when it’s time to clear the back yard of dog poop, what do you want in your hand, a double strength paper grocery bag, or some pathetic plastic thing that won’t even stay open at the slightest suggestion of a breeze? You throw one of Fido’s fresh ones in one of those plastic bags and it would melt right through the bottom like throwing a plastic cup in a bonfire.

Paper or plastic? They might as well ask a kid on Halloween, “you want candy or rocks?” The bank might as well ask me, “you want a hand full of twenties or some nickels?”

Come on, people! Stop the madness! Just say "NO" to plastic bags.

Things Are Never As Bad As They Seem

As the month of May draws to a close, I for one will be glad to see it go. It has been a tough slog for the Dunnevant  household. A recap:

May 2: I drop $850 bucks on a CPAP machine, forever changing how I sleep.

May 9: My faithful, irreplaceable dog Molly, dies in my arms at 6 am. Two hours later I receive my second cortisone shot from Dr. Beech in my ailing left shoulder which he assures me will get me through the summer.

May 12: My first Mother’s Day without my Mom so soon after losing Molly puts me into a major league funk, made much worse by news that my mother-in-law has been taken to the hospital in the wee hours with pains in her stomach.

May 14: Mother-in-law has first of two operations, with Pam at her side 8 hours a day while I wait patiently for therapeutic effects of cortisone shot to kick in.

May 15: Learn that friend has cancer.

May 17: In rare highlight, Pam and I head to North Carolina for two graduation ceremonies. We have great few days with both of our amazing children, all the while my shoulder feels like some sort of mixed martial arts death match is being waged inside the rotator cuff.

May 21: Visit Dr. Beech who informs me that my shoulder has digressed beyond remedy, short of surgery. He prescribes pain meds to get me through until the earliest date available on his schedule…June 5. Pain meds only partially effective.

May 28: Start wearing sling for left arm in effort to prevent me from doing stupid, instinctive things with arm that end up sending shooting pains through shoulder. Discover that it is difficult to go to the bathroom wearing sling.

 

So, there you have it, a beautiful month. However, in the spirit of hope that comes with springtime, I feel an obligation to you, my readers, to end this blog post on a positive note. All was not lost in the month of May as a review of the month’s positives will reveal:

# Mother-in-law is finally recovering, making steady progress

# A dear friend gave me a gift card to Maggiano’s which I used to celebrate my 29^th wedding anniversary with the most amazing woman in the world.

# Business remained strong despite all the distractions.

# A very good friend received some sensational news that was a long time coming and a huge answer to prayer.

# Both my son and my daughter got jobs, Patrick for the summer, and Kaitlin, her first full time teaching job in Henrico county!

# The neighbors across the street got an adorable new Golden-Doddle puppy, which has helped me dealing with Molly’s loss.

# May was vomit-free.

 All of this just proves something I have always instinctively known; things are never as bad as they seem when you take the time to think it through. There is always something to be thankful for, always a blessing out there hiding in the weeds. I just thought of another one…no car accidents in the Dunnevant family in the month of May. See how easy that was?

Unsolicited Marital Advice

 Several months ago I was asked to prepare some remarks for a young man who was about to get married to a young woman who I have known for years. We had gathered for a huge meal and afterwards several men in this all-male affair were tasked with dispensing marital advice to the groom. Well I found this the other day and decided to dust it off in preparation for the big event in the Dunnevant family coming up in 60 short days. Any of my married friends out there who have additional insights that I can add to this list, feel free to make suggestions. Please, no cracks about how much trouble Jon is going to have dealing with so opinionated a father-in-law, since he already knows that!

“ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.”

                                                                 1 Corinthians 13:5

 

Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, _________.  Since I just celebrated my 29th wedding anniversary, I feel at least partially qualified to dispense marriage advice, primarily…marry the right woman. It certainly worked for me.

But even if you do marry the right woman, it is no guarantee of success, just as your mutual faith in Christ is no guarantee. Pam and I joined Grove Avenue 26 years ago and immediately got involved in a fabulous Sunday school class of young married couples. These were 15 of the most devoted Christian couples we had ever known, committed not only to each other, but to the church as well. 26 years later, 7 of the 15 are divorced. I share this with you as proof that what you are about to embark upon will be the hardest thing you ever do, but done right will enrich your life in amazing ways.

I have prepared a list of suggestions for your consideration. These are principles that Pam and I have found extraordinarily helpful in our 29 years together. Now, just because something appears on this list doesn’t mean that I am always in full compliance. It just means that when I am, things go very well. Some days are better than others.

1.     Have a short memory. The verse I quoted above might be the single best verse in the Bible for married couples. “Keep no record of wrongs” is simply golden advice. If I had written this letter to the Corinthians I would have added, “ while you’re at it, keep no record of ANYTHING”. Being married isn’t about keeping score. You don’t do nice things for her so you will earn something nice in return. There is no marriage bank into which you make deposits, no safe deposit box that contains brownie points. You do nice things for her because you love her. Period.

2.     The quality of your married life will rise and fall in direct relationship to how well you’re able to banish selfishness from your life.

3.     You can either be “right” or you can be “happy”, but seldom at the same time. Winning an argument with your wife is never truly winning.

4.      Never criticize your wife in public, even and especially in jest. Trust me young man, there are home wreckers out there, yes even at your church, who are listening to every word you say, waiting for an opportunity.

5.     Even though God calls you to be the leader of your home, listen to your wife, and value her council. She is so much smarter than you in so many areas, it’s not even funny. Don’t be a stubborn jerk, listen and obey.

6.     Never stop going out on dates.

7.     When children come, pay special attention to #6. You married your wife, not your children.

8.     Don’t become predictable. Surprise her with gifts, flowers, cards, racy love letters, inappropriate e-mails etc. Take charge of the romantic planning in your relationship. Guard against boredom.

9.     Do all the vacuuming, always clean the bathrooms, and always do the dishes after dinner. That way when she tells her friends that she has never vacuumed, cleaned a bathroom, or done dishes after dinner in all the time she’s been married, they will all tell her what you’ve been telling her forever, that you’re a GOD!!

10. Anything worth having in this life is worth fighting for. Your marriage is worth your very best effort. Take nothing for granted.

 

Pam and I wish you and __________ all the best.

 

Doug

My Son Turned 24

My youngest child turned 24 over the weekend, a sobering mathematical fact, which makes it increasingly difficult to claim that I am still in my forties. Actually, I’m not one of those guys who lies about his age. Whenever anyone asks me, I proudly proclaim the truth of my 55 years, since they have been hard earned and come with big benefits, chief among them, a head full of memories. Some of my best ones involve my Son.

We knew there was something strange about Patrick, when he walked out of his first Disney movie talking about nothing but the musical score. Before he was 12 he had demonstrated untaught skill in every musical instrument we ever placed in his hands. The first choir he was a member of was directed by my sister, The Praise Kids, and from her he learned that music was our gift to God, not to mention more fun than a barrel of monkeys. By the time he was introduced to Sherri Matthews at Godwin high school, it was all over and there was to be no turning back. Patrick was a musician, and that was that. He blazed through Belmont University and now Westminster Choir College, doing what he loves, making music and trying to figure out a way to get paid doing it.

But, on the occasion of his 24^th birthday, I would like to brag on his non-musical gifts. Patrick has managed to develop in an industry famous for huge egos, without much of one. He has never felt intimidated by others with great talent, in fact, they inspire him. Patrick simply loves good music, regardless of who is making it. I have never heard him say a bad word about any of his classmates, never heard him denigrate anyone’s talent or lack thereof, an amazing gift.

The thing I’m most proud of in my boy is his ability to think for himself. Patrick will never be bullied into group-think. He thinks things through and comes to his own conclusions about difficult problems. He doesn’t believe a certain way just because his father does. He thinks. He researches things, listens to others and makes his own informed judgment. Sometimes we agree, sometimes we don’t, but I’m always proud of how he arrives at his views, through careful thought, without lazy reliance on  dogma. When his views aren’t popular, he has the courage to defend them. A father can’t ask for much more than that.

Patrick isn’t perfect. He is an unrepentant slob, maddeningly unorganized, and thinks that undershirts are appropriate attire for practically any occasion. But he’s 24 and still very much a work in progress. My son is a freakishly talented human being with a huge heart and boundless capacity for love and loyalty. Can’t wait to see what becomes of him.

My Missionary Friends

Over the past ten years or so, it has been my good fortune to meet and become friends with many missionaries. These are people who served for years in foreign lands, having children and raising them all over the world from Thailand to Zimbabwe. After a fifteen-twenty year run, they have retired into the administrative end of the business here in Richmond at the International Mission Board. Through this happy accident of geography, many of them have joined our church and provided us with much needed injections of legitimate righteousness over the years. As a bonus, I had the privilege of getting to know their kids when I worked in the Youth department of our church.

These ex-missionaries have formed a unique community. All of them, all of their families seem connected. Although they served in different countries and none of them are related by blood, the bond of their shared mission has turned them all into an extended family. Their children refer to all of the men and women as “aunts” and “uncles”. It’s really quite charming and enviable. Because Pam and I have become close friends with many of them we often get invited to social events and get-togethers, and they are always great fun, although Pam and I often joke that we feel like the token heathens. The reason I say that is that when it comes to the business end of the Gospel, ie, the actual spreading of it, these people have been front line troupes; they are all grizzled veterans in the work of evangelism and have made huge sacrifices to bring the message of Christ to hurting people. Around them I feel like a civilian, one of those annoying guys sitting in his padded pew on Sunday, writing the occasional check, but never actually doing anything dangerous or important. Listening to their war stories, as inspiring as they are, always reminds me of how cushy and uninspired my spiritual life has been.

One of their neat traditions concerns a ritual of sorts that occurs when one of their sons is about to get married. All of the men get together at someone’s house. There’s a big cookout with steaks and chicken, and all manner of delicious food, all prepared by the men. There are no women around. After dinner, everyone gets together in the living room. Each man takes turns saying a few words to the prospective groom. Much of it is typical guy stuff, complete with gag gifts, and terrible advice, lots of laughter and teasing. But then each man is expected to offer a word of scripture and some serious words about the awesome responsibility of being a husband and father. The words of advice must be in writing so they can be given to the groom to keep. I’ve been invited to another such event this week. This time, the groom will be in Atlanta, and our advice will be broadcast to him via Skype.

I always leave these events feeling that surely this is how the body of Christ was designed to work. The bond and commitment between brothers and sisters in Christ should be every bit as strong and serious as the ones in our own families. If this was actually how churches worked, there would be lines forming at the doors every Sunday morning.