Lucy's Park Adventure

My incurably neurotic Lucy had her first visit to the park over the weekend. It was a beautiful day and I am trying to socialize her the best I can. Besides, we are planning on taking her on a road trip this coming weekend down to Columbia, South Carolina to see Jon and Kaitlin, so I figured that she needed some time in the car and at a new place in way of preparation. While I write this at 6:15 in the morning, she is manically spinning around chasing her tail until she gets so dizzy she falls over crosseyed, pink tongue hanging out of her mouth. Einstein she's not.

Anyway, things were going quite well. She loved the park, particularly the other dogs and her first encounter with ducks. We walked around the lake making many unplanned detours at Lucy's behest. I'm beginning to think that she would follow her own nose through the gates of hell, so single minded is she when on the trail of some whiff of whatever. Although she seemed entrigued by the lake, she showed no unusual interest in the water, partly since the county engineers have done quite the job at building wooden hinderences all around the water's edge. But near the end of our 45 minute walk, I managed to find a spot where the water could be accessed by way of several formidable rocks. Lucy cautiously made her way to the edge, sniffing for all she was worth. Suddenly, as if answering some thousand year old genetic urge, she launched herself, spread-eagle off the rocks into the water, to the finger-pointing delight of a previously amorous couple seated on a nearby bench. I thought I had her leash locked. Wrong. She swam around as I frantically tried to reel her in while terrified ducks began fleeing the scene. I finally managed to get her out of the lake and unto dry ground where she immediately engaged in rounds of body shaking, soaking everything within ten feet, including the happy couple.

This dog who is afraid of anything black, this dog who can be sent scurrying for cover at the sight of a raised pillow, this dog who heads to the high grass at the mere appearance of a Target bag, doesn't hesitate to launch herself into an element that she has never seen before in her life.

Well, she IS a Retriever, and I suppose the genetics are impossible to resist. Still, it was an amazing thing to see, the carefree delight she took in swimming for the first time. Of course I had brought no towel with me so she was quite the mess for the ride home. I'm sure that the 6 hour drive to Columbia and life inside a third floor apartment will provide much material for this blog this coming weekend. Stay tuned!

The Crusades vs. Jihad

The President opened a can of worms the other day at the National Prayer Breakfast by attempting a history lesson. In that especially irritating, condescending way that he has at times, he warned Americans not to get on our "high horse" by assigning barbaric acts exclusively to the Muslim faith. He reminded us about the Crusades and the Inquisition as well as slavery and Jim Crow on our own shores and the dark roll that Christianity had played in each. Our President is quite fond of this sort of thing, his strange habit of equivocation, always eager to point out our own sins while granting dispensation for the sins of others. Where to begin?

Let me start with the issue of slavery and Jim Crow, since my historical knowledge is more dependable. The President is correct that slavery is indeed a black mark for not only our nation but Christianity as well. In fact my chosen denomination was birthed over an incorrect interpretation of scripture concerning the nature of slavery. More recently, many churches, especially in the south, were supportive of the Jim Crow laws of the 1950's to their everlasting shame. But whenever I hear this charge leveled against Christianity, my blood begins to rise because the critics always leave out two things. First, the abolitionist movement that ultimately lead to the eradication of human bondage in the West was predominately a Christian project, both here and in England. And while the West is largely free from its scourge, slavery still thrives throughout the Muslim world. Secondly, you would have to search far and wide to find an ordinary Christian who does not admit that slavery was and is a horrible thing and any past Christian support for it was a grave error. In many parts of the Muslim world, by contrast, they danced in the streets celebrating 9/11.  President doesn't need to remind us of what the vast majority of Christians already know, acknowledge and understand...slavery is a sin.

With regards to the Crusades, this is the go-to accusation levied against anyone who dares to publicly
question Islam's seeming domination by its most radical and violent elements. "Well?? What about
the Crusades, huh?? You Christians are no better!!" This is barnyard manure of the highest order. First of all, it needs to be pointed out that the Crusades ended 600 years ago, and the historical accounts of it are filled with conflicting claims as to who in fact was responsible for most of the carnage. The hands of Islam are just as bloody as those of the Crusaders. And while it appears that Christianity has been rather successful at reigning in its Medieval barbarism, Jihad is still very much with us, which is a salient point that the President always seems to miss. The entire point of the crisis in which civilization finds itself is NOT the Christian violence of 1000 AD, but the bloody violence of the here and now, most of which is rooted in the Islamic doctrine of Jihad.

I agree with those who say that it isn't fair to blame an entire religion for the excesses of a minority of its adherents. I cringe when people try to blame Christianity for the Westboro Baptist crowd. I even object to the Westboro haters being called "Christian" since they demonstrate no recognizable fruits of the spirit. So, I have sympathy for the Administrations sometimes awkward parsing of words when
attempting to identify the enemy. Devout Muslims may equally cringe when they hear the lunatics of ISIS called "radical Islamists." But, while Christian churches are being burnt to the ground wherever the Jihadists gain power, Mosque construction continues here in America. No armed, roaming bands of Methodists have been spotted destroying Muslim businesses lately, I know of no Presbyterian gangs raping and pillaging through Dearborn, Michigan.

However, with a billion Muslims on this planet, if only 10% of them support violent Jihad, then we are dealing with potentially 100 million radicalized  Islamic terrorists. While they are still very much
the minority of such an ancient religion, they are the ones with the power, the zeal and the weapons. History lessons about the Crusades do nothing to change this horrible fact.

The Strange Life of a Teacher

My wife has a really cool job. She is an "interventionist." No, she is not in favor of an aggressive foreign policy, rather she works with small groups of elementary school students who are struggling with math or reading, giving them extra help in what is called a "pull out" program. Thirty minutes at a time, she works with 2 or 3 kids, giving them extra instruction where they need it most. She does this with kids from K through 5th grade. She loves the kids and they love her, and she is incredibly good at what she does.

She is not considered a full time employee. She gets no benefits. She gets paid by the hour and her hours are from 8 to noon, 5 days a week. Anyone who knows Pam probably knows what I'm about to say because...well it's just who she is. When it comes to teaching and children, Pam has no idea what a clock is. While this is also true for most teachers, at least they are paid a salary with benefits. My wife shows up before the kids arrive and gets home between 4 and 5 in the afternoon every day, meaning she gets paid for roughly half of the hours she works.

Every year it's something else, some new initiative from the central office or worse, the Department of Education. This year it's something called "progress monitoring" which as best I can tell involves an insane amount of testing and then entering the results into some Rube Goldberg computer program. It's all very complicated and labor intensive. So, in order to get it all done she either has to use paid instruction time, robbing the kids of actual, you know...instruction, or spend three unpaid hours every afternoon logging in meaningless data into her computer to satisfy the blood-sucking bureaucrats of the education mafia who dream up these schemes.

Well, yesterday she sent me an email informing me that her Principal had singled her out for praise since their school was leading the entire county in the accuracy and consistency of the progress monitoring reporting, or some such thing. The person in charge of the initiative had taken the time to call and heap praise upon the stellar interventionists. Pam was so excited, pointing out that since she can never get a bonus or anything like that, a pat on the back meant so much.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what is wrong with education in this country. The best the overachieving teacher can hope for is a "pat on the back." Well, that and 5 bucks will get you a cup of fancy coffee at Starbucks. Congratulations.

I know, I get it...great teachers don't teach because of the money. But can't we come up with a way of identifying and rewarding the best ones? And I'm not talking about some $1000 gift certificate to Teach N Things. Yes, identifying great teachers isn't easy, there are so many variables to consider, not the least of which is parental involvement. But, we can put a man on the moon yet we can't come up with a way to reward excellence in the classroom? What's more important for the future of our country, investment banking, or identifying, rewarding and attracting truly great and gifted teachers?

I've been a business owner most of my adult life. My world is one that is driven by incentives, and return on investment. And while education is no business, the people who work in it are human beings and last time I checked human beings respond to incentives. Would it kill us to offer bonuses, luxury paid vacations, or maybe paid sabbaticals to the best of the best, however defined? Wait, you say that education budgets are tight and there's no money? How about we elliminate 10% of the jobs at the central office and use the savings to fund my teacher enrichment program? I've never met an enterprise in the business world that couldn't be made infinitely better by taking a meat ax to the home office. Education is no different and in fact is probably worse.

Meanwhile, my wife and thousands of other educators like her will have to settle for a "job well done" pat on the back.

Humanity Burned At The Stake

Last night I did something that in the past I have always refused to do, I watched the latest ISIS video. Since this organization of psychopaths burst onto the scene they have been rather fond of executing hostages from a variety of countries in increasingly barbaric ways, then distributing video evidence for the world to see. These videos are dumped on the Internet and immediately go viral, winning them admiration from other psychopaths the world over, and serving as a recruiting tool. It has primarily been for this reason that I have never viewed one, not wanting to become part of the problem by participating in something so dehumanizing. But mostly I haven't watched one of these snuff videos because this isn't Hollywood, these are very real heads being chopped off of living breathing people. No thanks.

But there I was last night reading the story of the Jordanian pilot being burned alive. Something came over me, a dark curiosity mixed with disbelief that it could possibly be true. My finger hesitated over the play button for several seconds. Why was I so curious? Was it all just an overblown hoax fanned by the "let's fight another Middle East war" crowd? I pressed play.

A smartly dressed soldier in what looked like an actual military uniform, face covered in a tan mask, held a torch in his hand, then slowly lowered it to the ground where a narrow line of flame began to dance along the ground, all the while music blared in the background. As the camera pans out we see the bars of a cage, then a man in an orange jumpsuit standing bravely at attention as the fire races toward him. When the flames reach him he lifts his hands to his face and begins to jog in place. At this point it looks no different than a thousand scenes from movies of people on fire. But soon the horrifying reality hits you with a knockout punch as you hear the man screaming. At this point the video-makers go for production value as they pan in with multiple cameras, the music getting louder.
Suddenly there's a closeup of the man's face as he drops to his knees, layers of skin peeling off and
falling to the ground. His face then begins to melt as his now stiff body rocks onto his back, cameras deftly catching the event from several angles. I stopped the video before it ended, having seen way too much.

Yes, practically every civilization on earth has at some point burned people alive as punishment. Joan of Arc perhaps the most famous example. But it's worth noting that Joan of Arc was burned at the stake 600 years ago. Generally speaking, the civilized world doesn't do this sort of thing anymore. An argument can be made that modern man does other equally barbaric things to each other. Killing someone via drone strike from 30,000 feet is no less lethal than being burned alive I suppose. But to actually see such a thing, to hear the triumphant music playing, to watch the celebratory posturing of the ISIS thugs, the raging bloodlust, is to be reminded of mankind's talent for cruelty. 

Time to Party?

I would like for you, dear reader, to engage in a little thought experiment with me today. Let's assume for purposes of this experiment that you are married. You and your spouse are having a tough time living within your means. In fact, you are spending a lot more than you're making... a LOT more. Matter of fact, back 6 years ago you were spending roughly $13000 more each year than you earned. That's over a thousand a month, obviously unsustainable. So, you decide that something has to be done, after all, 6 years ago your reckless spending had managed to pile up $110,000 in debt.

 So, one night over coffee, you and the wife sit down and hammer out a plan to put your financial house in order. You decide that each of you are going to get second jobs because you obviously don't make enough money. In addition you pledge to stop spending money you don't have. But, old habits are hard to break and although you manage to make more money with the second jobs, and you do manage to put a dent in your profligate spending, you discover that it's harder than you thought to stop a runaway train. Six years after your austerity plan, you have made progress. Now you are making more money, and you have managed to cut that spending, but you are still spending $4500 more a year than you're making. While this amounts to an admirable 60% drop in spending, your total debt has continued to grow, now at $182,000 and climbing.

So, you both decide that to celebrate your 60% reduction in deficit spending, a trip to the Bahamas is called for, a no expense spared, all-inclusive blowout because...well, you've earned it!

Throw a boatload of zeros at the end of all my numbers above and that's exactly what has happened to the United States over the last 6 years. I don't have any problem with the President taking credit for  good economic news. God knows he would get blamed for bad news! But I find his conclusion that since now we are "only" spending 450 BILLION dollars more than we bring in each year, it's time to go on a spending spree...ludicrous. 

Super Bowl Observations

Midway through the third period of last nights game, I was feeling rather smug about my prediction of a Seattle blowout. The Seahawks were up 24-14, and the wheels appeared to be coming off for New England. Then Tom Brady started doing what he's been doing for the past 15 years, playing the quarterback position with robotic efficiency, slinging perfect passes to his latest collection of midget receivers.

It's very easy to dislike a guy like Brady, he of the cleft chin matinee idol good looks, the Warren Buffet sized bank account and the smoking hot wife. He of the breezy, effortless confidence and annoying Uggs billboards. But there is no denying his accomplishments on the football field,where he simply has no contemporary peer, having just won his fourth Super Bowl. The fact that he led his team to two fourth quarter touchdowns to win the game should come as a surprise to absolutely no one.

Still, there were the Seahawks driving down the field for the winning score with time winding down, aided by a miraculous bobbling catch that put the ball on the five yard line. After Marshawn Lynch dragged 11 guys down to the one with 30 seconds left, it seemed a sure bet that Seattle was about to steal the game. Then, for reasons that escape me and roughly 20 million other football fans, Pete Carroll decides to NOT give the ball to the most devastating running back I've seen play the game since Earl Campbell. Instead, he calls for a pass, a slant to somebody named Davey Crockett or something. Some other nameless rookie intercepts the ball. Game over. The cameras cut to Brady jumping up and down on the sidelines like a middle schooler. Pete Carroll hangs his head in disbelief at his own stupidity. What a finish!

Of course, there was a halftime show. Katy Perry and a cast of thousands. My son pointed out to me that the halftime show at the Super Bowl long ago ceased to be about music, having instead become mini- Olympic Games opening ceremonies. As such, this one was pretty dazzling. Everyone kept their clothes on, there were virtually no hyper-sexualized themes, and Miss Perry's outfits were kinda cool.

This year's commercials were...surprising. It seemed like no matter the product being pitched, the theme was "aren't Dads great?" One ad after another extolled the many virtues of fatherhood. There's Dad making breakfast with his little boy at 2 in the morning. There's Dad picking up his crying high school daughter in the pouring rain. There's Dad dropping his daughter off at the airport, tears flooding his eyes. It was quite refreshing actually. Normally, Dad is depicted as a clumsy, incompetent rube in commercials, always having to be bailed out by the wise wife. It was nice to see men depicted as something besides money-grubbing, ass-grabbing drunks.

So another football season can be laid to rest, leaving us only 63 days removed from the first pitch of baseball season. Yeah, baby!!

The Transformation of Bruce Jenner

It was 1976. I had just graduated from high school. I was working at Lowe's hardware on Broad Street saving every dime for a planned trip out west at the end of the summer. I was supposed to go to college after high school but I wanted to travel the country first. That summer was an Olympic Games year. They were held in Montreal and the only things I remember about them were that the Communist countries were winning all the medals, and America had a Decathlon champion named Bruce Jenner. He was amazing, a one man phenomenon of California cool and athletic grace combined with movie star good looks. The gold medal looked good on him. After those games he went into show business with some television movies for awhile then disappeared until he resurfaced in a reality show called Keepin Up With the Kardashians which I can proudly say I have never watched.

This morning, I was minding my own business trying to stay well informed when I ran across a story announcing that Bruce Jenner is undergoing a " transformation" into a woman. Apparently he and his family are thrilled. So far it's been little things like growing his hair out, wearing makeup and showing up at family gatherings with manicured nails, but soon we are assured that the changes will be more noticeable, more flamboyant. To satisfy the American appetite for all things puerile, Mr. Jenner is having the feminization filmed, to be aired at a later date as a reality series.

I am doing my absolute best to be a modern, sensitive and caring man. I really am. With the assistance of my two grown children, I have boldly stepped into the 21st century by broadening my food choices,(Indian cuisine), eliminating boorish thoughts and dated, harmful words from my vocabulary,(Kraught, towel-head, Jap etc..), and come to become more tolerant and understanding of lifestyle choices that I find personally disgusting and abhorrent. But, there are times when I see
pictures and read stories about a man like Bruce Jenner turning himself into a woman, and I just
wonder what the hell is this world coming to?

From the story I learn that the appropriate response to Mr. Jenner's "decision" is acceptance, even celebration. I should be thrilled for him that he is finally finding happiness. Moreover, I should be inspired by his "courage." It's as if he has just announced to the world that he has decided to devote the rest of his life to feeding the hungry in Bombay. Clearly, God made an awful mistake knitting him together in his mother's womb and blessing him with an Adonis physique and the athletic ability of a small "g" God. The fact that Mr. Jenner used the sexual organs that God gave him to produce 6 beautiful and devoted children was a cosmic accident as well. A friend of the family is quoted as saying that "Bruce feels as if he has finally cast aside a bag of bricks that he has carried for so long. He feels free."

Reading the story, it dawns upon me that despite the efforts of my children, I still retain the ability to

be shocked and saddened by what 95% of all human beings that have ever walked upon this earth would have considered a sickness. It seems that 21st century man is the first to be asked to celebrate the degenerate. But, that last sentence would probably be considered hate speech nowadays. When in truth it is simply an honest declaration of my heart. I can summon no admiration, no celebration. I see no courage. I see a confused, addled man-child living in a reality television universe that has transformed the concept of truth into an incomprehensible mess. The only emotion I can summon is pity.