Goodbye David, my friend

I must have been 12 or 13 when a new pair of youth leaders joined our church - actually, it was two young couples who were students at the college where my best friend's father was dean of students. David, Janet, Randy, and Deanna - they were a breath of fresh air for our little youth group. Compared to the others who stepped in from time to time, these young men and women had energy and vision - they wanted to serve God in our church while they were in our city for college.
Of them all, David was the one who really interested me. He was a big guy - with dark blonde hair, parted on the side, but it always fell across his eyes. He never seemed at home in the suit coat and tie - jeans and a casual shirt were more his style. Most important of all, he didn't seem to mind my incessant questions, nor did he think them rebellious. He recognized my desire to dig deeper into spiritual things and to move past the platitudes most often uttered by those in authority. And, he was the first person who I felt was on a first name basis with God. This is not to say he was a highly religious man - quite the contrary. He just didn't pray with thee's and thou's - he prayed like he was talking to a friend.
I remember him sitting in a overstuffed arm chair in the front of the fellowship hall. When he taught us, he didn't stand behind a pulpit or podium, he invited us to pull up a chair so he could share his thoughts. "God, the Father," he said, "is not some white-haired old man sitting on an ivory throne with a bunch of lightning bolts in his hands, waiting for us to step out of line. He's a loving Father who has placed rules and guidelines in a love letter called the Bible. He gives us those guidelines and rules to protect us from harm and to help us live productive lives." He encouraged us to read the Bible with a loving father in mind. To a teen girl who was 3 years old when her father abandoned her family, this was heady stuff. God is really my Father and wants to have a father-daughter relationship with me? He doesn't think badly of me because I come from a 'broken' family?
Over the course of time, David shared with us his love of the Rocky Mountains. I was born in Denver, I spent the first 14 years of my life there but I never hiked in the mountains until I met David. The youth group went to the mountains in all the seasons - we hiked up trails to experience vistas that were so beautiful that one could not help but be profoundly changed. He taught us to tread lightly and leave nothing but footprints. And, in one of the defining periods of my life, we back-packed for several days through the Sangre de Cristos, carrying all our gear on our backs. We walked through alpine meadows, trudged up slippery slopes and even spent one night huddled in our tents on a 13,000 ft ridge during a horrendous thunderstorm. We camped in places one could only access by foot. We studied the book of Ephesians by fire light. This man from Kansas introduced me, a native, to my home state and to the true love of my heavenly Father. I will be forever grateful for those things.
Over the next few years, things dramatically changed. I moved away. David and my best friend, Beth, were married and had four children. I married and had my two. For a time, Matt and I lived nearby. David gave me the nickname, "Old Overdue" while I was pregnant with my son (I carried both my babies for an extended time!) Beth and David were the initial inspiration for Matt and I choosing to give birth at home rather than in a hospital.
We moved, they moved, lives went on and now, it has been almost 20 years since I have seen David. I waited too long because he has now moved beyond my reach. Sadly, David slipped from this world last Monday.
He has left behind his soulmate and companion of many years, Londa - I hope she knows we are praying for her. He has four children (what a lucky man!) and a new grandbaby, Emma, who are grieving. Beth, my dear friend, is heart-broken - they were married for many years and, though they divorced, they still loved each other as friends.
And, me. Goodbye, my friend. I'll see you, later.

A Decade of Reta

Yesterday, our wonderful cat, Reta, went to sleep and is now no more. This reporter asked those closest to her, who were available, for comment. Shadow, an aging but vital Aussie, was saddened. "I don't remember life without that cat. When I first came to this house, she was already here. Though she was sometimes, okay, a lot of the time, a pest, she was all right - for a cat."
Kenobi, a rotund tri-colored Aussie, was conflicted. "To be honest, we never got along. She was quite devious - always acting innocent when I would get into trouble after she swatted at me. But, she was family and family always sticks together."
The man of the house wasn't able to say his last goodbyes but talked of how affectionate she had become over the last few years. " She loved to spend time out in the garage with me and watch me work. When I got home at night, she would be waiting at the side of the garage and would duck her head and roll over for me to pat her fuzzy pink belly. Then would get up, sprint for the door and not quit meowing until she was at her bowl eating. I will miss her."
Her girl and her boy were not immediately available for comment but may express themselves here at a later date.
The neighborhood which she roamed was quiet - and this reporter scanned the street, looking for that funny little kitten to come hopping home. In the house, I looked for her in the basket of newspapers, on the second shelf of the coffee table, where she would peek up through the glass, and, this morning, I stayed in bed for a moment longer, waiting for that meow alarm clock which would signal the beginning of the day.
Reta was quite an outspoken feline - one never had to wonder what she thought about any given situation. In the mornings, when I would let her in from her night of prowling, she and I would have a special little conversation about her night's work. I would speak a word or two, she would reply and so on as we walked, together, to the window seat where we kept her food bowl.
She was a water-lover, a bird-hater and a fearsome defender of her territory. Reta, Queen of all she surveyed, dead at age 10.
If you knew Reta and would like to share your thoughts, the family would appreciate all posts or, if you have kind words of comfort, they are welcome.

The "Looters" are ramping it up!

For those of you unfamiliar with Ayn Rand's philosophy, let me give you a brief overview. The world is filled with three kinds of people - producers, looters and moochers. Producers are those of us who work (in home or out of the home), pay our own way and mostly ask to be left alone (by the government). The moochers are the ones who do not work but expect to be taken care of at no cost to themselves. The looters - the wretched Robin-Hoods, steal from the hard-working producers (any forced sale or gift is theft!), give to the moochers (give is much too wimpy a word to use in this context!) and take a healthy percentage for themselves to continue their "good work." I know this is a simplified version, but it is important for my good readers to have a basic understanding of this when i share my next bit of 'news.'

I read the news today, oh boy, about a dangerous attorney general in the great state of Mississippi who has free-fallen into the moocher camp. He (she - no name was given) has determined in all of his wisdom to file lawsuits against the insurance companies to require them to pay for the flood damage of the homes in his state who did not buy flood insurance before Katrina and hit. His partner in crime is the Mississippi insurance commissioner who is trying to get legislation passed which would allow people to purchase flood insurance retroactively - a bit like purchasing health insurance to pay for a surgery you already had or purchasing life insurance port-mortem.

And, to make sure we all subsidize the housing choices of those along the coasts, the insurance commissioners of New York, Louisana, Mississippi, and California, to name a few, are proposing a mandatory - let me repeat - mandatory national catastrophe insurance. This way those who do not choose to live in hurricane-prone or earthquake-prone areas can all pay into a fund to rebuild the homes damaged in those areas again and again. Kinda makes you all warm and fuzzy, doesn't it? I know I want to have my hard-earned cash snatched from my hands and funnelled into the ocean-view home in some other state.

An interesting measurement...

Economic Left/Right: 3.25
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -4.31
These numbers represent a point from a graph on a site called Political Compass . I found it by following a series of links from some other blogs I visit. I took the test to see where I would score. I must make this observation: quite a few of the statements were written in such a way that, though I may somewhat agree with something, I could not say "never" or "always" and my response is to err on the the side of less intervention/less regulation/less control. If you decide to take the test, be sure to read the FAQ's - it helps one feel a bit better about one's answer choices. In fact, spend a bit of time looking through the site.

I would be very interested to see how others score themselves - feel free to post your scores on here on this blog - and your reaction to the scores you received... I find it quite interesting that none of the famous people they have plotted are even in the same quadrant as me. That either means I should never run for office or should should go out and file as a candidate tomorrow morning. Actually, after I took the test, I looked at the reading list for the Libertarian Right and was amused that they pegged the authors I tend to agree with. In our homeschool, I used Richard Maybury's books for a basic study of economics and I subscribe to a magazine which often quotes the words of Hayek and Von Mises. I would be particularly interested to find if there are others who read this blog that share the same approximate point as me. Regardless of the outcome, take a bit of time to consider the views of those you think are diametrically opposed to your way of thinking - we can all learn something new, now and then. The world has very few truly evil people - I believe, optimist that I am, we all basically want the same things; we just have widely differing views of how to get them.

A side note: Paulmond - "Kitchen Stories" is a wonderful film. Both my husband and I greatly enjoyed it; thank you for recommending. I have the other film on reserve with the library system and will let you know what we think of it after we watch it.

20 Ways to Maintain a Healthy Level of Insanity

From an email I received from a colleague:

1) At lunch time, sit in your parked car with sunglasses on and
point a hair dryer at passing cars. See if they slow down.

2) Page yourself over the intercom. Don't disguise your voice.

3) Every time someone asks you to do something, ask them if they want fries with that.

4) Put your garbage can on your desk and label it "In".

5) Put decaf in the coffee maker for 3 weeks. Then, when everyone has gotten over their caffeine addiction, switch to espresso.

6) In the memo field of all your checks, write "For smuggling diamonds"

7) Finish all your sentences "In accordance with the prophecy"

8)Don't use any punctuation.

9) As often as possible, skip rather than walk.

10) Order a diet water whenever you go out to eat (with a serious face).

11) Specify that your drive-through order is "to go".

12) Sing along at the opera.

13) Go to a poetry recital and ask why the poems don't rhyme.

14) Put mosquito netting around your work area and play tropical sounds all day.

15) Five days in advance, tell your friends you can't attend their
party because you're not in the mood.

16) Have your co-workers address you by your wrestling name, Rock Bottom.

17) When the money comes out of the ATM, scream "I Won! I Won!"

18) When leaving the zoo, start running toward the parking lot yelling "Run for your lives! They're loose! They're loose!"

19) Tell your children over dinner, "Due to the economy, we're going to have to let one of you go."

20) And a final way to keep a healthy level of insanity- send this e-mail to someone to make them smile. It's called therapy.

Smile - it's good for you!