Does it bother anyone else that President Bush has asked that the ads regarding Kerry’s military service cease?

I love my president, but I am highly disturbed that he would ask this.  And it has nothing to do with “well, they did it, so why can’t we?”  It’s a matter of free speech.  I am against campaign finance reform because it stifles free speech.  Short of paying someone for their actual vote, I think all Americans should be free to shout from the rooftops their opinions regarding those in office or running for office.  Granted, some pocketbooks are deeper than others and can buy larger megaphones, but we all have voices and come in contact with many, many people every day.

How long before they shut blogs down like ours — blogs that say the same thing those ads do?

A funny (but accurate) joke from a friend:

Hot Air Balloon

A woman in a hot air balloon realized she was lost. She lowered her altitude and spotted a man in a boat below. She shouted to him, “Excuse me, can you help me? I promised a friend I would meet him an hour ago, butI don’t know where I am.” The man consulted his portable GPS and replied, “You’re in a hot air balloon, approximately 30 feet above a ground elevation of 2346 feet above sea level. You are at 31 degrees, 14.97 minutes north latitude and
100 degrees, 49.09 minutes west longitude.

She rolled her eyes and said, “You must be a Republican.”

“I am,” replied the man. “How did you know?”

“Well,” answered the balloonist, “everything you told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to do with your information, and I’m still lost. Frankly, you’ve not been much help to me.”

The man smiled and responded, “You must be a Democrat.”

“I am,” replied the balloonist. “How did you know?”

“Well,” said the man, “you don’t know where you are or where you’re going. You’ve risen to where you are, due to a large quantity of hot air. You made a promise that you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. You’re in exactly the same position you were in before we met but, somehow, now it’s my fault.”

Check my comments box for a silly survey on movies —

Can you believe that someone could be so cruel to the very parent who gave them life????

I read the following in my email box earlier, and it gave me pause, for sure.  I’d always thought the idea of a “living will” to be a good one.  As best I understood it, one could put in writing her desire to go “peacefully into that good night . . . ” without lingering on like a cabbage connected to a high-tech irrigation system of life-prolonging tubes and wires.

Well, according this article, a living will also gives one’s relatives and physicians the ability to withhold food and water when one has ceased to have value in the eyes of those relatives and/or physicians.  At least that’s the way I read it.  Tell me what you think.  Do you think your kids should be able to decide when you’ve lived a good, long life?  When it should end?  And should they be able to decide to end it by withholding food and water?  How humane is that????

Louisiana Court Allows Family to Withdraw Life-Sustaining Nutrition, Hydration from Mother

WEST MONROE, Louisiana, August 23, 2004 (LifeSiteNews.com) – An 89 year-old woman who suffered a debilitating stroke is being denied life-sustaining food and water by her family and doctors — a court said it was okay because Doris Smith signed a living will. The daughter of the woman argues, however, that her mother never intended to be starved to death when she signed the legal document before her stroke.

Nurses at the nursing home stopped administering food and water to Mrs. Smith Monday, following the instruction of two other children, despite the efforts of attorney Jack Wright. The Louisiana Supreme Court refused to hear Smith’s daughter, Oris Pettis’, appeal. “We’re at the end,” Wright told the Associated Press.

“Most people have no idea that when it states in a Living Will/Power of Attorney that no further medical treatment will be provided in certain circumstances that it means they will also be denied food and fluids,” according to Alex Schadenberg, executive director of the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition. “The Euthanasia Prevention Coalition is called regularly by people who have no intention of granting their doctor or family members the right to dehydrate and starve them to death and yet have a Living Will/Power of Attorney document that would do just that.”

Pettis argued in three courts that her mother was not aware that waiving her right to “life-sustaining procedures” included the denial of food and water. The document signed by Smith is nearly identical to a standard state form used by thousands of Louisianans. In a list of definitions, not located directly on the living will form, but separately, is included the denial of food and water as part of the forfeiture of life-sustaining procedures.

“To intentionally kill someone by dehydration and starvation is euthanasia,” Schadenberg said. “This differs from removing fluids and food from someone who is nearing death and who’s body is shutting down, that act is normal protocol.”

“The dehydration and starvation of Doris Smith is a wake-up call,” Schadenberg continued. “The message is that everyone needs a Power of Attorney document that protects them. The Euthanasia Prevention Coalition distributes the Life-Protecting Power of Attorney for Personal Care. It is a legal document that will protect you from being dehydrated or starved to death and allow you to die a natural dignified death.”

Contact the Euthanasia Prevention Coalition for more information:
http://epcc.ca

Read local coverage: http://www.nola.com/newsflash/louisiana/index.ssf?/base/news-11/109300584267841.xml&storylist=louisiana

Something to ponder for those who put too much emphasis on “feelings” . . .

“America has been in too many wars for any of our wishes, but not a one of them was won by being sensitive. A sensitive war will not destroy the evil men who killed 3,000 Americans. … The men who beheaded Daniel Pearl and Paul Johnson will not be impressed by our sensitivity.” –Dick Cheney

Wisdom from Miss O’Hara . . .

If I may quote:

Anyhow. Most Americans, being economic ignoramuses for whatever reason, usually jump up from their La-Z-Boy and cheer when they hear that taxes are being raised on some sort of money-making operation. Of course, they don’t realize that raising the tax rate on the corporation will inevitably mean job loss, lower investment in other area businesses, and a general shrinking of the local or even national economy – higher tax rates on anyone is a bad idea, regardless of reason. One can explain these things – or at least attempt to do so – to folks, but they blow you off and tell you that you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’d have better luck explaining quantum physics to a six-year-old.

And back to me . . .

This is sooooo true!  Trust me.  I love to spend money.  Who doesn’t?  (Well, Ebenezers, of course . . .) But for the most part, we are a nation of consumers.  We consume, consume, consume.  We consume food, we consume clothing, we consume gas, we consume vehicles, we consume houses, furniture, entertainment, on and on and on.  WE CONSUME!  And all those things that we consume have to be produced by people who are in the employ of ack! corporations.  And when those corporations are taxed, they can’t afford to employ those people.  (Which lends itself to the minimum wage equation as well — if I have to pay $6,000 to 5 people, when I’ve only budgeted $5,000 — well, I’m probably going to have to let one of those people go.)

Anyway, higher taxes slow down everyone’s consumption of products!  I can’t buy as much as I might have before higher taxes.  The corporations can’t employ as many people as they might have before higher taxes/minimum wages.

It’s not rocket science, is it?

Summer’s over . . . “Meet the Teacher” & “Personal Conscience vs. Collective Conscience”

Yesterday I took my wee elf child to her school.  We met her teacher (Mrs. Tanamachi) and tucked all her newly purchased school supplies away in her desk.  I know it’s only third grade, but gosh — it feels as though I’m sending her off to college.  Something about third grade . . . it just seems so much older than first or second grade.  After we met Mrs. Tanamachi (I love that name — it’s so much fun to say), we went to Chick Fil A for lunch.  Yum. 

So today, Miss Jami is being lazy and I’m going through the motions of getting some work done.  Tomorrow is the honest-to–goodness first day of school.  I’ll drop her off at 7:45 a.m. and then pick her up at 3:30 p.m.  Oh, my gosh!  3:30 p.m.!  Just like the big kids.  She got out at 2:30 last year.  So while I will be missing my small girl, the silver lining in the cloud is I will have SEVEN hours a day to accomplish great and wonderful things without interruptions of the eight-year-old sort.  THIRTY-FIVE hours a week to sell many, many window treatments and contribute to the flourishing economy with my ambitious attempts to prosper and contribute to the family piggy bank.

I love this quote:

“Any attempt to replace a personal conscience by a collective conscience does violence to the individual and is the first step toward totalitarianism.” –Herman Hesse

While I’d like to write a lengthy opinion of this quote and what it says to me, I don’t have time right now.  So I’ll just post a little “this is what strikes me on first reading” blurb and maybe come back to it later:

I read so many liberal ya-ya’s waxing not-so eloquently about “community” and “the better good” and “human rights” and “working together . . . ”  Now don’t get me wrong.  I’m a firm believer in helping others and standing up for the little man until the little man can stand up for himself.  But these liberal ya-ya’s won’t be happy until we are all standing in line formation repeating the party line like zombies.  Until our individual, God-given consciences hum in concert the party song:  “Raise our taxes to the maxes, do our thinking, while we’re drinking away our misery.  It’s okay, we don’t care . . . as long as you send back a little-bitty share.”

They just want us to cough up the money we’ve worked hard to earn, not to think about what they are doing with it, and be grateful if we can afford a six-pack to numb the pain of having no part of our lives untouched by the bloated federal government.  After all, misery loves company and those who won’t work can complain about the size of the little check they get from our taxes, and we can complain about our taxes going to those who won’t work.  So let’s all be miserable together!  Can you pass me another beer???

The green-eyed monster has me by the tail . . .

This is where my sister-in-law is right now.  And where I am not.  While the average Jill might be a little green with envy, a tiny bit jealous . . . I am CONSUMED. 

This is St. Croix, U.S.V.I., and St. Croix is where I spent 14 of the most glorious months of my life when I was a teenager.  In fact, this picture that I copied for your viewing pleasure happens to be of Cane Bay, where I made my certification dive when I was 15.  Yours truly swam out to sea and dove a deliciously scary 80 feet down the Cane Bay Wall (which continues to drop a toe-curling 3,200 feet before hitting bottom — think phosphorous glowing fishies a’ la “Finding Nemo”).  I saw the most amazing creatures, collected the most beautiful shells, made the most wonderful memories.

While it has been 24 years since we returned to Texas, I am positive this is the condominium we lived in the first three months we were there.  The name has changed — it was called “The Barrier Reef” when we lived there, but the view is the same, the design of the condo is the same, I’m certain this is it.  In another photo on the website, I identified the condominiums next door as Mill Harbor, hence my confidence.  I learned to snorkel off this beach before advancing to my scuba adventures.  The reef we explored was full of sea life and named “The Barrier Reef” because it resembled (on a much smaller scale) the Great Barrier Reef off Australia.

I remember wandering through the 300+ year old streets of Christiansted and shopping in store fronts that were built by Danish settlers in the 1600’s.  My best friend, Cindy, and I would roam the shops and then grab a sandwich at Reed’s Deli followed by a trip to Steele’s Smokes and Sweets. 

Did you know that the aroma of flavored tobacco mingling with the sweet scent of chocolate is intoxicating?  We bypassed the smokes (although the antique lady’s pipe with a pink coral bowl and long ebony stem made smoking a pipe seem almost elegant), indulging in the chocolates that were to die for.

I don’t know why, but many of my memories are tied to scent:

Each morning, our school bus drove past the Cruzan Rum distillery.  Even now, at the age of 40, when I smell rum, I think of Good Hope School and the school bus . . . weird, I know.

I met probably the most intelligent and interesting educator of my life while a student there.  Richard Collings was my European history prof and even now, I occasionally correspond with him.  An amazing man, he was born in England and travelled all over Europe and other parts of the world.  He was able to teach history with so much more depth and make it so much more interesting because he’d actually been all the places he was telling us about.  While he managed to keep us on track lesson plan-wise, he still allowed us time to discuss issues that were important, confusing, or interesting to us.  One topic that came up repeatedly was the hostage crisis in ’79 – ’80, when Americans were held prisoner for months on end in Iran.  We were 9th graders, and for the first time in our lives, we realized that sometimes things happen that our parents might not be able to protect us from, or even themselves.

In my mind’s eye, it seems almost like yesterday when we left.  Three days after my sixteenth birthday, we boarded a plane and came back to Texas.  It was really difficult for me, because I’d made some very close friends in the brief time I lived there.  I wrote some heart-wrenching poetry (thank you, teenage angst) and slowly but surely readjusted to life in the “real” world.

Someday, I hope to return.  I’d like to take my husband with me and share “my” island with him.  If I’m feeling particularly generous, I might take my daughter, too . . . but it would be an awesome “just the two of us” trip.  Jami might have to stay with her MoMo . . .

Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All About You . . . I just love these stupid quizzes . . . Really!