Looping the Hen

The Jowls of a Bloodhound

I had hoped that perhaps the pictures taken while I was contemplating my impending death would show my more noble side. Alas, that is not to be. It is horrible to say, but the roll of 24 images taken of me are perhaps the most peculiar images known to mankind.

I'm actually kind of lucky. I was going to post a new Dork Tower cartoon I found, but the pictures of me are, as far as I can tell, infinitely funnier.

Just one for tonight, and maybe the better of the group. Tomorrow I will post some of the truly horrid ones for your entertainment. Tammy has been in tears laughing at them for 2 days already. Thanks honey.

Measure of a Man, Redux

The saga continues. I mentioned this scum-sucker briefly in a previous post. It’s only gotten worse. Mr. For Better but Not For Worse has decided to move to Phoenix to live with his girlfriend, and leave his wife in Indiana. His latest quote of ultimate ridiculousness: ‘I plan on living with Lisa [his new girlfriend] for the rest of my life.’

Well, at least until she gets sick.

I almost want to e-mail bomb him; the whole situation makes me furious, and I am not even involved.

To Baby...Redux

Thanks for the comments on the last post folks. I was going to respond directly in the comments, but this has been a pretty big issue on my mind for a while, so I think it is worth another.

The parents certainly view things through a protective lens, and regardless of my 'perfect world of child-rearing', I might put the same pressures on myself to keep my kids safe.

However, I think one comment states pretty closely the more specific question I wanted to examine (Bethany's):

i agree that it WOULD be great to afford the next generation the freedoms we had as kids, but it is sadly and undeniably a different world today than the one we grew up in. (one filled with internet predators and tweener thrill killers,etc.)

The question is this, is it really a different world? Or one created by a sensational media.

I wish I had statistics all the way back to the seventies (And more recent data), but according to this crime rates against kids actually dropped against children between 1993 and 2000, more than half. But you'd never know it listening to the radio or watching TV.

My perception, and I would guess many others', is that with all the news coverage and media blitzing, it seems like the problem has steadily gotten worse. However, according to everything I have read in the last 10 years, it seems most crime numbers have fallen against those of the 70's and 80'. One might argue that it is 'parental overkill' that is causing these numbers to go down. However, there have been similar declines in crime against almost all segments of the population, so I doubt that is truly the answer.

Is it possible that it really is safer now than it was when I was growing up? If that is the case, it seems that we really are strangling our kids. Beth, you joke about GPS, but many parents are already using it on their dogs, let alone their kids. Shouldn't cell phones and GPS technology make us more apt to trust our kids alone, instead of less? Where is the line between realism and carelessness?

It sounds like some would think letting 9-year olds walk 3 miles home from school is 'carelessness', let alone bike-riding to another town to buy comic books. But how much of that is programmed by a society that believes that any number of incidents against children larger than 0 should lead to greater regulation of how we raise them? TN just passed laws mandating child seat use until 9 years old and 5 feet tall? Huh? I feel bad that Brett is going to have to buy his wife a booster seat! Where does the madness end?

I am not advocating total anarchy, but there needs to be a return to common sense. Smoking kills 300,000 people annually. Alcohol adds another 100,000. Driving not impaired accidents still kill 80,000. Poor diet and lifestyle kills hundreds of thousands more. (Some of these numbers are coming off the top of my head as I remember them, if anyone has the actuals I will plug them in). So why don't we change the things that kill large numbers of people instead of regulating those things that kill small numbers? It strikes me as societal hypocrisy.

I am sure it is easy to get elected and pass 'fuzzy' laws like making sure kids are in safety seats until they go to their junior prom, and perhaps save 10,000. But at what cost? I have to pay higher premiums on private insurance and Medicare taxes to compensate for those who choose to smoke or drink and then go to the doctor when they get sick. Why don't we mandate smoking as a crime and save 300,000 yearly? Why don't we ban automobiles that go over 55mph and save 100,000? I hate to sound clinical, but how is it the things that kill 1 or 20 or 100 or 500 people get the attention and effort? Why is it that we are paranoid about our children to such an extent that even after a 50% decline in crimes against them and we are more fervent than ever about protecting them because we are convinced the bogeyman is going to pick them up between here and the back yard?

These are Devil's Advocate questions, so please don't take this as an attack on anyone's parenting. Of course we want to protect our children. I have three beautiful nephews, a perfect niece and I am sure the most beautiful daughter that ever lived (that's another story) that I want to live long, healthy lives. I just wonder where we draw the line between too much and not enough?

To Baby or Not To Baby?

*Cough* I was going to post this, well, someday when I had it more thought through and some statistics, but I find myself prodded by folks who should instead be sewing wings or beer wench outfits or some such! Crazy world indeed!

I hear all the horror stories of kidnapped, killed, raped, abused and other harms that come to children left alone. Part of me wonders if the world is really that much worse than when I was growing up, or simply more aware due to our sensationalized media addiciton. Glenn Reynolds, the world's most popular (at least the most read) Libertarian, mentions that in TN, the State considers leaving a 9-year old alone is neglect. Although I know it is likely true in our era of Parenting Police, I find the notion preposterous, and a little sickening. The article offers a possible explanation for declining birth rates, while other writings of his explain the danger of negative population growth, such as exists in most of Europe today.

The concept of having children in such a world is so vastly different from the one I have envisioned for most of my adult years, it is causing me to rethink the whole idea. When I was nine, I was going to Pierson Middle School (4th/5th) in the sleepy little town I grew up in, population circa 9000. Unless I had to be home for some reason, or it was below -10F, I walked. It is around 3 miles home (I always thought it was more, but Google just corrected me), depending on the route. G-Max and I would often walk or bike to his house, which was only about a mile away, or head to the library to play chess or stratego for a couple of hours.

Between the hours of 3pm and 6pm on school days, my friends and I had near total freedom to do what we wanted. Sure, we spent thousands of hours in front of the TV, but we also spent it reading, wandering through Kenny's, (our random dollar type store) playing all sorts of games, fooling around in the back yard and the trails behind my house, and otherwise just generally being kids. On the weekends we even occasionally took bike rides to other towns around 9 or 10 miles away to buy comic books or to play video games at the Saybrook Bowling Alley.

Was I a little bit of a latchkey kid? Yes. Do I think my mom or dad neglected me? Nope. Thinking back and looking at the situation today, I honor Mom for respecting me enough to trust in my decisions as early as 8 or 9 years old. Do I want to be stuck to my children's every waking moment for 14 or 15 years before ever letting them be their own person? No, not even a little bit. I don't believe I would be the independent and self-reliant person I am had I not had the freedom when I was younger to learn to enjoy being by myself or with my friends without constant supervision.

If I do have children, I for one want them to understand independence and not need anything other than their own imaginations to be able to enjoy themselves. One of the statistics I had meant to look up was the number of grown men between 25 and 35 that are still living with their parents. If I recall, the number was something horrific, like a third or more.

Did I screw things up on occasion? Oh yes. The worst incident actually occurred when I was older (15 or 16 I think). (Using Lysol and a lighter to kill a bug on the window is not the brightest idea ever) But even though I had the freedom to screw up, I rarely did. When I was living with my father for my last two years of high school, I didn't really have a curfew. Why? Because I never abused the privilege and gave him a need to implement one. And I think that is the way it should be. To learn to be worthy of trust, one has to be trusted.

If I do have children, I hope I allow them as much freedom as mine did me. I hope I instill into them the characteristics that will make them worthy of it. And I hope our society moves away from the mentality that we have to be omnipresent in our kids lives, or at least filling it with all conceivable manner of extra-curricular activity. I used to wish I grew up in my father's time in, of all places, Plainfield, CT, another sleepy little town. TV was not an option. When I hear his stories about him and his brothers, and kids with names like Digger and Johnnie (Knight, actually), I am jealous of the life they had.

The Measure of a Man

My friend AKBar put up this post on her blog; when I heard the story I had thought about posting about it myself, however I wasn't sure if I would have been disrespecting anyone, as I am friends with both her and her husband. Now that she has posted however, I will feel free and I think most could probably guess my reaction.

I am with AKBar completely; to be honest, there is no other position in this debate for me. There is no grey area. There is no empathy. The man is still married, and needs to grab his cojones and start acting like it, not dating, not 'looking at his options'. EIther that, or he needs to divorce his wife, which I would also find pretty horrid at this juncture.

From my understanding, other than AKBar no one has stood up and and said this is wrong. And not just wrong with a little w. Utterly, completely Wrong. And I find it shocking that she has to be the one taking a stand, when it should be his family smacking him upside the face and telling him to start taking his vows a little more seriously and that they are ashamed to be associated with him.

Growl.

The Heavier Side of Balance

When my life is good, as it has been for a very long time, I often forget that part of my philosophy is that along with ups, there have to be downs, otherwise it is impossible to appreciate the blessings we are given every day.

Of course, that doesn't mean I have to like it or take it quietly either.

We have a history of Alzheimer's on my father's side of the family (my grandmother had it). I received a call from my father yesterday, and he sounded more worried than I am used to from him, because he has been pretty healthy for years now, even though for almost a decade it was touch and go (with heart issues). He didn't say anything outright, but I could feel it hanging in the air.

For all his long years of health and heart problems (One reason I am turning into such a Health-Monster), he has always been an inspiration in keeping other people's spirits up in times of need or crisis. Both he and his wife regularly rescue both people and animals with equal acumen, and they have the kindest spirits I have ever met (along with my Mom). Still for some reason, they have been visited with every kind of tragedy over so many years I have lost count and I often think of them as Job's Kin. I know I have no hope of ever being able to fill his shoes because I would fold under 1/10th of what he has dealt with in his life. TBH, I had a hard enough time maintaining my composure on the phone and not breaking down like I was 11.

Still, no matter what happens and whether anything is wrong or not, I hope to be worthy of being my father's son by being the strength for the rest of his years (and I hope they number another 68 at least!) he has always been for me.

I know to this day my father and Anne-Marie pray for me every day, along with a hundred other people. For those so inclined, I hope you will take a moment and talk to God and ask him to look after my father and his wife, who have been truly good and loyal servants of His in ways most can't come close to approaching.

I love you Dad.

A Bunny's Prayer

It's been a while since I've mentioned how much I love my life, simple as it is. Sunday evening is my favorite time of the week; all brilliant sunset of gold and crimson with a touch of bittersweet as I prepare myself for the six days ahead. It is also the time I reflect on the days behind me. It consists of 5 hours that are perfectly, peacefully mine. The laundry is done, the house is (reasonably) clean, my body is still warm from a few miles running in the park. The world may be spinning, but I don't know it. It is just me, Shakira, and the words on my monitor.

And the week behind is as good as it gets...nothing monumental happened; I didn't win the lottery or inherit a fortune or win an olympic medal. But still it was near perfect. I ran more than 10 miles (in a week) for the first time in 15 years, including a race where they fed me a Nutty Buddy and Pasta Alfredo afterward. I hung out and played poker with some great friends, and then played D&D with some other great friends. I even made a new one.

I got a raise. I lost a pound. I got my car waxed. I started on my tan. I finished a funny novel, watched a couple of movies, and discarded some junk that was cluttering up my life. I took a chance. I started helping my dad and step-mom with a project I should've helped them with 3 months ago. I conversed with a girl with hypnotic eyes and made some new goals that have me hopeful about tomorrow, and many tomorrows after that. I smiled. A lot. And did some laughing to.

It's not much, but I offer this up as my little Easter Prayer, and I thank God for His Son who rose today, and for every little thing that makes my life sublime and perfect.

I know many don't know it, and for all who don't, it doesn't take anything to have a wonderful life except believing you have a wonderful life, being thankful for every little thing, and doing one's best to ignore the snags. Start something. Take a chance. Kiss your husband or wife or significant other and thank them for being there every day. Try something new. Remember something old. Hug your mom if you can. Shed a tear, or a few, but not bitter ones. Live.

(And when all else fails, promise a spy you'll go skydiving with them.)

Happiness is...

Getting your convertible back. She is in better shape than before the GHCS! They had to repaint the hood, so many of the little rock dings that collect over time got cleaned up. I thought about trying to convince them the dings on the driver door were part of the incident also, but t'wouldn't be honest! I had to drop a $500 deductible on it, and another $150 for a rental, but all in all, the experience was not as traumatic as it could be. Dave Ramsey made sure I had an emergency fund to pay for it all in cash.

Score one for frugal!

God Blesses the Truman family again!

Welcome to the world my new niece, the first Truman girl in more than 2 generations!

No name yet, 6lb 6oz, born at 6:24pm CST.

I can't wait to spoil her!

Pictures as soon as they are available!

Praise God!

Update: All my nephews have at least 3 names each; my brother and sis-in-law didn't want to shortchange my new niece, so she is (though we're still wiating on the official spelling of her 2nd name): Anna Rebekkah Eden Truman
(Eden is our Mom's family)

I love her already.