My One and Only (Political Rant)

I've tried.  Really.  Typically I do not engage in any type of political conversation not because I can't, but because my preference is to delay a heart attack until my inactive years (lest there be any).

I made an oath with myself long ago to learn from my mistakes.  Yeah...that's obviously an ongoing, concerted effort.  However, at the top of my "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS IDIOT, DO NOT DO THAT AGAIN" list was watching my mouth.  Proverbs 10:19 is hanging in my office:  When words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise. 

Always easier said than done for me.  Certain topics strike a nerve, and when my nerves are stricken, watch out.  Well, watch out if you knew me when I was younger.  Today, just hold your breath.  It's not that I mean to go off, nor is it that I even have much of a temper.  It's just that when certain injustices occur, my passion flares up.  For passionate I am.  Unapologetically.

Speaking of that, last evening I was at the Y on the dreadmill, avoiding the inevitable heatstroke outside would have caused.  I'm zipping along at 7.2 minding my own business, when the news catches my eye.  I see his face.  I read the words scrolling along at the bottom.  7.3.  Ignore him.  Bad song on the iPod.  Look up.  7.5.  Form, sweat, run, count...form, sweat, run, count.  Keep chanting, keep chanting.  Ok, Obama.  You win. 

So I become engaged in what he is saying.  People next to me start nudging me.  I'm already enraged - why are they making me more crazy mad by touching me?

"Oh, I'm sorry - I didn't realize I said that out loud."

It was like when I'm on the court and I have no idea what trash talk comes out of my mouth.  Apparently a barrage of F-bombs were flying at that TV screen unbeknownst to me while I was now running at 8.0 - wishing that lying sack of worthless garbage was back in Chicago, working at the American Girl Store as a waiter serving lunch to those overpriced dolls.

I hate him am vigorously opposed to anything his diabolical statements, policies, and beliefs reflect.

The idiot is on the offensive.  Why?  Oh, I don't know...maybe because he initiated a series of big bullshit policies that he promised would turn the economy around and clearly - clearly they have not.

Instead of defending his numb nuts economic policies, he attacks modern capitalism as it now exists.  I could stop there and just go, honestly?  Honestly, what are you doing attacking our country - the one that epitomizes (or, at least used to) capitalism?  You ingrate, you moron.  You are blaming the system for the economy?

You what, don't like the way unsuccessful firms go bust?  Well guess what?  I don't like the way unsuccessful people go bust.  They way they quit, lay down, say ah, screw it...those smart, rich people will feed me. 

You don't like CEO salaries.  Well guess what?  You ain't worth $400k a year either (I use "ain't" so as not to be confused with one of the "smart" ones).  You don't like financial shenanigans, you don't like outsourcing and offshoring.  Why yes, President Obama, you don't like modern capitalism one iota.  It's clear. 

So what do you do?  Do you defend your Fisher Price economic policies?  Nope...just blame the system.  It's totally easy to blame someone else for your woes.  And, do it with double ferocity if your opponent (mind you, I hate am not a Romney fan either) happens to be the embodiment of that system. 

You don't like that Bain Capital invested in companies that hired workers abroad?  It's "unpatriotic" to hire Mexican or Indian workers?  Ok, I'll stop here and not point out the obvious about your ahem... questionable roots.  You think that no worthy person, right-wing right or not, would do what most global business leaders have been doing for at least the past half-century?  You're challenging the entire logic of capitalism as it has existed over several decades.  And I'm just getting warmed up.

This focus shift has been a disgrace.  Despicable.  You've not been a critic of globalization over the years of your presidency.  I can't remember you having any kind of real problem with outsourcing or offshoring.  You kiss-assedly praised people like Steve Jobs and hired people like that CEO dude of GE, whose very company embodies the upsides of globalization.

I guess I give your people props.  Admittedly (and why my blood is boiling) this attack has shifted the focus of the race from being about big government which you clearly represent - to being about capitalism, which is what I, others with a brain, and Mitt Romney represent.

You're promising voters that they can have all the benefits of capitalism without any of the downsides such as plant closures, rich (and smart) CEO's, and outsourcing.  Just like the GOP used to tell the Dems they had to have high taxes in order to get their unending list of programs, the Dems are now telling the Republicans that they need to accept the pains of creative destruction if they want their prosperity. 

Here's what I want, Mr. President.  I want to not be punished for being a go-getter.  I want to not be called "smart" or "rich" by people laying on their couches, stuffing their fat faces with Pringles that I bought them.  I want to NEVER be running on a treadmill again and read that "the reason people thrive at work and are rich is solely because of government."  Are you (stop touching me treadmill neighbor!) kidding me? 

If anything - you've taught me how NOT to behave.  How NOT to live.  What NOT to emulate. 

Spend less than you earn.  Tell the truth.  Work hard.  Put others before yourself.  Proceed with the greater good in mind.  It's not hard.

If I had my druthers, I'd live in a country which is run under a theocracy.  Literally it boils down to greed, pride, and fallible human beings.  When the leaders are corrupt, the people follow (read The Book of Judges).  By George, we're in trouble.

However [political parties] may now and then answer popular ends, they are likely in the course of time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious, and UNPRINCIPLED men will be enabled to subvert the power of the people and to usurp for themselves the reins of government, destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to unjust dominion. 

                                                                                                --George Washington
 

The Big Screen

I realize a couple things right now which is good - seeing as how I can't figure some other things out at this moment.  One, I still need to blog about the remainder of the Nicaragua trip and two, I can (maybe) be "verbose" at times so I'll try and cut to the chase with this post.  I'm operating on about 3 hours of sleep to boot, which means this is in everyone's best interest if I can actually accomplish it. 

We're on week two of seven in our study at church within the Book of Exodus.  Specifically, we're learning about the Mishkan - God's tabernacle and portable dwelling place which had very, very specific instructions in terms of how it was to be constructed.  From the colors, materials, sizes, etc...it's all laid out purposefully.  In fact, our congregation has reconstructed a true-to-scale altar of burnt offering that sits at the front of the sanctuary.  The altar was the place you went to confess any sins and get in right relationship with God before you continued inward to the more sacred places within the tabernacle.

All that to say - it's a totally boring study.  Yes, I wholeheartedly believe everything contained in the 66 books of The Bible.  No, I am not necessarily enthralled or interested in all of it. 

So today as I was tuning out, trying to simultaneously stay awake and ditch suppressed guilt, I immediately perked up when I heard our Pastor say, "When I was a teenager, someone told me that when you die and go to Heaven, you have to answer for your life as it all plays back on a big screen.  And everyone else, both in Heaven and still on earth will be watching it with you." 

Now we all understand that's utter hogwash, but yikes!  My stomach was doing some flips on its sinking way down to my toes.  I seriously wanted to puke.  Guess that was the point.

This life can be seriously tough at times.  It can be beautiful, simplistic, ritualistic, easy and then... wham!  All of those little white picket fence adjectives can be squashed by a freight train we didn't see barreling down the tracks.  And after it makes its cataclysmal way through, the only things left are difficulty, uncertainty, and confusion. 

When you're faced with those remains, it becomes challenging to remember and adhere to bottom lines at times.  Your own decision-making train, trying as hard as it can to keep rolling down the tracks, has no idea where it is even headed.  The tracks are crooked.  They're worn.  They're tired.  Depending on the day and the load the train is carrying, it can even run out of gas altogether.

But eventually it's got to pull into that station.  That final destination which is endlessly sought after in some kind of ridiculous pursuit of...of...of what? 

Declaration-like Happiness?  Well THAT inalienable right sure is nice and gray.  Thanks for that, Tommy.  Or Mr. John Locke, not the one from Lost.

I don't know.  In the midst of all this, I turned on Oprah's OWN channel as I wanted to watch her interview with D-Wade, Chris Bosch, and that other one who is dead to me.  Inspiring?  Maybe on a day when I'm not this crabby and tired, but today those 3 just made me want to puke again for the second time.  Maybe 2010's Game 6 vs. the Celtics should be looping on Mr. Unnamed's big screen so his (let's pretend he has some) guilt cannot stay suppressed.

The only thing I do know with absolute certainty is that I would very much appreciate it if "My Life In Film" could go straight to DVD. 

And then thrown in the bottom of the Red Box abyss forever and ever, Amen.

Nicaragua - Overview and First Night

I think I'm ready.  Not only do I have a bit of time right now, but I feel back to normal - ran 13.1 miles this morning, went to church, got groceries, am drinking white wine...no malaria or dung fever to report...yep, back to being me.

Liv's Youth Pastor was also enrolled in the same Master's program through Bethel College I just completed.  We know each other well, so it didn't surprise him at all when I said during a break one day about a year ago, "Hey Todd - can I go on the Nicaragua Mission's trip with you guys?"

He actually seemed excited about the prospect and laughed when I quickly followed his "Yes!" with, "But you can't tell Liv AND you have to come up with a really good reason as to why you asked me to go.  K?  K.  Thanks, buddy."

Months passed and it was kind of just forgotten until the postcard(s) arrived in the mail, outlining the details, training dates, and the people who were going on the trip.

Liv:  YOU'RE GOING?
Me:  Yep.
Liv:  Why?
Me:  Todd asked me and I really want to experience it, especially along side you.
Liv:  Simultaneous eye roll and sigh.
Me:  (Internally)... Ha ha.  Mi hija el mad-o.

There were 22 High School kids and 7 adult volunteers who went.  For 6 weeks prior to the trip, we all met every Wednesday night at the church to prepare, pray, and learn about what we were going to potentially experience.  Nothing we did in those 6 weeks prepared me for what I saw, felt, and continue to think about on a daily basis.

We left the church at 5:15am on Saturday, June 16th for the 3 hour bus ride to Chicago O'Hare.  Landed in Miami around dinner time, and arrived in our final destination - Managua, Nicaragua - at 9:00pm local time (11:00 EST).  Long travel day, but many excited Americans.

At the airport, we again loaded a bus and listened to Jairo, our Food for the Hungry (FH) Director, explain what we were about to embark upon as we drove through the dirty streets of the capital city.  All I will say about the driving in Nicaragua is as follows:  a) if the malaria, gang-bangers, human traffickers, or drug lords didn't kill us at some point during the week, surely our bus driver or other fellow Nicaraguan drivers would; and b) I was totally the BEST 16 year-old driver ever (Dad!).

We listened to a very cute Jairo tell us about the scenery, the people, and the place we were going to be staying that night.  It was called the "Nehemiah Center," and it's where all FH partners stay while in Managua as it is clean and safe - safe since FH hires uniformed armed guards to carry AR-15s around the compound all night while we fall asleep worrying only about Gringo-loving mosquitoes.

After we turned off the main pot-holed road complete with what seemed like thousands of people, there was a sign indicating the Nehemiah Center was just through a gate up ahead.  Whew.  We were all exhausted, dirty, and starving.  It looked like a well kept camp ground; the quiet was a little eerie, but overall, I was expecting much worse in terms of accommodations than what I was looking at through the thick night air. 

We hopped off the bus and onto a very large tiled patio with several tables and chairs set up for dinner.  There were old-fashioned wicker chairs on one side, as well as several hammocks hanging from the open-air roof.  Very cozy, I thought.  The combination of several smiling faces simultaneously yelling, "Hola, Amigos!" and scent of home cooked whatever allowed my guard to come down slightly.  My gaze stopped looking in all directions for scopes, red dots on my fellow traveler's foreheads, and the best escape route to save me and my child, in favor of sitting down and eating.

The food was amazing.  We had beans and rice (I quickly learned we would have this every meal, every day), perfectly cooked chicken breasts with a delicious onion-y sauce, cheesy potatoes, and plantains (fried bananas) which were my favorite.  All this was washed down with pinaya juice - also my favorite - kind of like pomegranate only better and a prettier shade of purple.

What a warm welcome.  We dutifully took our plates into the kitchen since we were there to work, of course.  Man...had that only been the toughest work we had to do all week...

Off to bed we went.  The girls had two rooms adjoined by one shared toilet and one "shower" that spit out a few ice cold trickles every now and then.  Yes, this Ritz Carlton lover was in a room with nine bunk beds, two sinks, a crap-ton of suitcases, and eight other slap-happy, overtired females.  I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow - complete with a smile on my face and the A/C remote in hand.  Happily, there was air conditioning...

When my iPhone alarm went off the next morning, I awoke to find my "bath" towel (think more like hand towel) on top of my sheet in an effort to warm my shivering, balled up body.  I tried to whisper to the others, but since my lips were blue, no words were coming out.  I gingerly stepped out of my bottom bunk, flipped on a light, and saw eight other sleeping beauties underneath their sheets and hand towels.

Beth...it's FREEZING in here!  What does that thing say?

Yikes.  It wasn't even in Spanish.  I had no excuse, other than it was in Celsius.  Guess I should have paid more attention in Science so I would have known that 16 degrees Celsius is kinda nippy.

And so it began. Our first official day started by walking outside with our eyeballs fogging over...

Oh, how cold could it be, sissies?

The Welcome Dinner!

   

Nehemiah Center Patio

Goat-o, get out of el house-o

Still can't compose all my Nicaragua thoughts so I continue to divert.  Instead, allow me to tell you about my recent cleaning efforts.

I used to go crazy with the cleaning.  Think bleach sticks in my back pocket, rubber gloves, buckets, and Lysol wipes in every room.  However, happily I have eased up on all that nonsense, hired Sara to clean monthly, and spend my time doing other things.  Like not picking up sticks, limbs, or trees in my yard.

I'm on a mission to downsize ASAP.  Want to move sometime in the next few years, so this is a must.  Now I knew I had a lot of stuff - stuff being synonomous with crap - but I had no idea what was...ahem...left behind.

You know how when you're in the midst of something you can't necessarily see what the heck is happening before your very eyes?  You just kind of walk around numb, all Eyes Wide Shut-ish, trying to pretend the situation is definitely NOT happening?  Yeah.  I'm sure that is exactly why I have so much useless shit left over.

In no particular order:  a bowling ball, table saw, 3 radar detectors, enough bear trinkets to put my address on another DNR list, a camo filing cabinet, some ground blind netting (I think...it also may have been an aid in my future planned demise), suitcases, computers, 1930's sewing maching, 6 boat compasses, a super sweet hand-painted (bears, duh) saw, and plenty of pictures of me.

All in my garage as I type.

Friday and Saturday cannot get here soon enough.  The good news is, I'm sure most of this junk will sell.  The bad news is...I have to see the kind of people who are interested in buying it.