39 minutes

...the total quantity of consecutive minutes of solid conversation LaLa engaged in with me today without taking a single breath...

I'm calling Guiness.

Wanted: warning labels that work

Operating from a rather medically and pharmaceutically altered state lately (caused by viral meningitis - in case you're new here - I don't generally run around ingesting powerful prescription drugs on a regular basis) has been an interesting deviation from the norm.

On Friday, my headache was so bad that it took me four attempts to open the bathroom door.

Last night, the medicine I am on worked so quickly at inducing sleep that I woke up with my eyeglasses askew and the print from the magazine I was reading clearly smudging my left cheek.

This evening my medicine created such a hazy state that I somehow managed to lose the remote control for several hours. We accidentally found it in the butter tray of the refrigerator door. We had given up the search and decided to get ourselves a drink, when - aha! - there is was. Yet another instance of Dr. Pepper saving the day. Dr. Pepper should be marketed with a blue superhero cape around the top.

So if I accidentally show up with one white sock and one green sock tomorrow, forgive me. And then please give me a hug or a Dr. Pepper. It's been a long week. And they should really consider re-labelling prescription drugs to reflect the actual risks involved with ingesting some of these medications. "May cause patient to accidentally leave TV remote control devices inside major appliances." Now THAT warning label would actually have been helpful tonight.

Goodnight all, that is if I can accurately remember where my bedroom door is?...

Roe V. Wade is 33 years old

The actual birthday of this landmark Supreme Court ruing was yesterday (Jannuary 22), but I just could not bring myself to post about this on the Sabbath.

So, hip, hip hooray. Isn't it wonderful that in a nation grappling with allowing the death penalty within our legal punishment arsenal, so readily advocates the death of babies at the hands of their mothers? Yahoo - how cool. Forgive me if I fail to throw a party celebrating the 40 million abortions in our nation in the last 40 years, hastened and amplified by a ruling which allows females to kill their babies at will. Yeeha.

I share my birthday year, 1973, with the conception of Roe V. Wade. It persistently haunts me to know that by the grace of God, I was permitted to live, when so many other babies have legally been denied their first breaths. Before they were born, they died.

Why me? Why not them? Why any of us?

Why celebrate the legal case that allowed us the delightful choice - the fabulous "freedom" to kill our young before they are ever born? Why celebrate a ruling that has allowed women to make a choice none of us should ever believe ourselves entitled to or capable of? Why celebrate the broken hearts, burdened souls, and lost lives to the abortion "choice"? Why?

I suggest that we forever lost our moral integrity as a nation of people on January 22, 1973.

While some celebrate their guaranteed right, I am anguished about the guaranteed deaths. I refuse to celebrate Roe V. Wade and commit myself to prayer that I will see it overturned or amended in my lifetime. Now THAT would be something to celebrate.

"Before you were formed in the body of your mother I had knowledge of you, and before your birth I made you holy; I have given you the work of being a prophet to the nations." ~ Jeremiah 1:5

strange silly suit

So, Jesus Christ does not exist, and he's gonna sue the priest to prove it?

Fascinating time we live in... and what colorful people among us.

Viral Meningitis

Your friendly neighborhood blogger has just been diagnosed with Viral Meningitis. I have struggled with an ongoing, persistent, staggeringly bad headache for the last 16 days. The MRI results and medical consensus is that it is viral meningitis. Meningitis comes in two varieties: viral and bacterial. Bacterial is the more serious of the two in terms of fatality risk. Viral is almost universally non-fatal. Well, I guess it could be fatal if you contracted it shortly before walking in front of a very fast bus. But by itself, it is not fatal. It just really, really, REALLY hurts. My head has alternated between feeling clamped down in a medieval metal vice ~ to feeling like it is going to implode. And every sensation in between. All of them powerfully painful.

Is there a word for the opposite of a hypocondriac? Instead of imagining symptoms and illnesses I am not laden with, I seem to have developed and equally lovely tendency to under-emphasize the ailments I actually DO have. I'm not sure which is better. My goal is to be the person who can correctly identify symptoms with degree of seriousness and then act on them.

This past two weeks has certainly not been physically pleasant, but I am told I will almost certainly heal by the end of the week and am placing my hopes and expectations in that.

In the meantime, I am lying low, content to hang out in the general direction of the rocking chair (my kids frequent here), fridge (Dr. Pepper lives there) my laptop (you guys), and alternating between voting for Pedro and listening to Wendell Warrington wrap the love of Jesus into Hawaiian island rythyms. Not a bad place to recover.

Groovy Grandchildren...

My beloved 4-year old LaLa informed me tonight that she wants to have ten children: five boys and five girls. And she has already chosen their special names with extreme care. So one summers' day in the very VERY distant future, I am told I can expect to fix lemonade and cookies for her little boys: Mister, Sneaky Pete, Curious, Frankie, and Ike. And her precious daughters: Sarah, Rainbows, Music Fairy, Turtle, and Jesus' Mom.

not just a day off from work

God bless the parents, the teachers, the pastors, the preachers, the children, the friends and the family of Dr. Martin Luther King. These blessed people helped to shape and support this human being into the iconic leader who helped our nation shed its shameful wont of judging one another by the shade of our skin rather than the content of our character.

My children live his dream. May we all.

Educating Village Idiots?

Watching John Stossel's "Stupid in America: How We Cheat Our Kids" on 20/20 tonight was deeply empowering. And angering. And a strange sigh of relief for me - finally other voices are echoing what my heart and mind have believed for so long.

Finally, there was a loud (sorry, John), publicly present voice in concert with my own bold sentiments about the inexcusably awful quality of our public school system, the shocking dumbing down of American students, and the solution we can engage in RIGHT NOW. Finally, I don't feel like the weirdo-Mom who wants to homeschool my children. Who gets almost physically sick at the thought of turning over ANY of my children's education to a state government-run public school system which is content to educate her to not know, by her sophomore year in high school, such staples of basic education as: the primary causal factor leading to the Civil War, where the Kentucky Derby is held, or what the Bill of Rights is. Not what it says, just what IT IS. Our 16-year olds do not know what the BILL OF RIGHTS IS?

That explains a bit about some of the current Alito hearing nonsense, but I digress...

We need to wise up and realize that we are failing our children. We are categorically dumber as a nation than we were when I graduated high school, and our high school class was categorically dumber than our parents generation. Are we content to be bringing up new generations of Village Idiots? Are we content to be Village Idiots ourselves?

We MUST begin attaching the money we spend on education to the CHILDREN. To be spent in ANY legitimate, accredited educational environment chosen by the parents of that child, not by randomly assigned geographical or social boundaries. We have become so entangled in rather inconsequential items that shade the education problem, like the separation of church and state (pardon the loud wretching sound), teachers' unions, and ridiculous indiscriminate teacher tenure, that we have lost focus on the fact that WE ARE NOT EDUCATING OUR CHILDREN. It is not working. Everything needs to be up for scrutiny and sandblasted.

Countries like Belgium allow complete and total educational choice for all students. The result? Schools COMPETE for the dollars that accompany each student. They aim to attract and keep those dollars and to be schools parents CHOOSE to send their children to, rather than are forced to by a ridiculous system of complicated geographical boundaries which trap students in socio-economic cages. Public, private, Muslim, Catholic, Montessori - all accredited schools are eligible in the countries whose children are best educated (i.e.: whose education system is actually working and whom we should be taking heavy cues from). There is no pervasive nonsense about certain accredited educational institutions being ineligible for government funding because they include prayer, Bible studies, Koran studies, or Hebrew classes. All children are eligible - the funding goes to the STUDENT, not the school, to be spent on educating that student at the institution of his choice.

The simplicity is brilliant.

And you know what? Belgium (and South Korea, Latvia, the Czech Republic, etc.) are kicking America's tail. They are, in John Stossel's words, "Cleaning our clocks." They are raising generations of children that are already more educated and intelligent than their American counterparts. It is standard for Belgian students to be fluent in at least 3 languages by high school graduation. Our students in most urban public schools, can barely speak proper English, much less write it. The systems of education are far superior in the nations which allow unrestricted CHOICE in education than in America, which is run by a government monopoly and controlled by teachers unions. Because they have complete FREEDOM OF CHOICE in the education of our children, their children are learning. There is no monopoly of government-funded schools, which exist by mandate, not performance and not by meeting the demand of parents and students.

What is wrong with us?

WHAT
IS
WRONG
WITH
US?

The answer is so simple. Make our schools competitive by making our schools COMPETE for survival. Compete for the money each student brings to the table. Compete for the students. Give parents 100% choice and freedom over the education of our children. Assign the government budgetary allotment for each individual student to be given to the school which is CHOSEN by the student.

Why is this such an impossible concept to apply? We keep throwing money at this problem and creating, you guessed it, more "plans", "programs", "infrastructure", and "administrative policies". Bureaucracy, pure and simple. And all of it futile. Teach the children, people. And if you can't, untie our hands as parents so that we are ALLOWED to send our children to schools where they will be educated to the already soberingly higher standards most of the civilized world takes for granted.

We are either blind, selfish, stupid, or apathetic... or this problem would change immediately. Right now. It is a crisis. And we are ignoring it.

It does not take a village to raise a child. It takes caring PARENTS. And it does not take more money to educate our children. It takes outstanding TEACHERS. And unhindered FREEDOM for all parents to be able to choose to send our children to schools worthy of being charged with the vital task of teaching the next generation of America.

R.I.P.

January 13, 2006

We bid farewell today to our beloved, cherished friend, Customer Service.

We are overwhelmed with sadness to see this trusted mainstay in our American society succumb to a painful, gradual death from a toxic mixture of apathy and ineptitude.

We regret his presence will no longer be felt at the supermarket check-out, where baggers chew gum and talk on their cell phones while customers are forced to bag their own groceries while trying to balance their toddler on one hip, make sure the other child in the cart with the nonworking seat belt does not suffocate from the belt wrapping around himself as he strains for the huge strategically placed display of candy and balloons, and attempting to pay for the bill by means of a nonfunctional debit card machine.

We lament that his sense of duty will no longer be present at the end of the phone line, when we call the department of a company bearing his name, only to be put on hold for 72 minutes and then disconnected or told we can leave a message that someone may or may not return within the current lunar cycle.

We mourn his loss as we struggle to wade through the torrent of displeasure, rude remarks, nonchalance, and grumbling as we bravely face those in reception lines or at the end of phone lines when we need to schedule appointments, mail letters, see a doctor, find any item in a DIY store, buy gasoline, or, God forbid, return clothing items - as our presence so clearly and inexcusably interrupts the individual we are dependent upon to transact such things for us, who would obviously rather be anywhere else.

And lastly, we sadly bid farewell to the cheerfulness and the kindness of his everyday life. The jaunty wave as we leave a store, the friendly voice on the other end of the phone when we call a business whose business is it to take our call, or the smile upon checkout when we patronize a store with our hard earned dollars.

We will miss you, dearest Customer Service. Your loss will be felt generationally and we were better people because you existed in our lives.

In lieu of flowers, a trust fund has been set up to pay for the therapeutic counseling which is so often needed by all who dare to enter the current American marketplace, hoping for professionalism or kind treatment, only to emerge frustrated and cranky with an unwanted understanding of the term "Going Postal".

CUSTOMER SERVICE
January 1, 0000 ~ January 13, 2006
You are deeply missed

Grin Generators

These two little ditties, emailed to me from my mother-in-law this morning, got me grinning:

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales.The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small. The little girl stated that Jonah was swallow ed by a whale.Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?" Without missing a beat, the little girl replied, "Then you ask him".

The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE. God is watching."Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies.A child had written a note, "Take all you want. God is watching the apples."

Amoral Choice Lovers Organization

a.k.a.: my newly coined "ACLU" meaning.

In a fairly predictable death spasm, the ACLU officially denounced Supreme Court nominee Samuel Alito today and issued a formal opposition announcement.

Please allow a moment while I recover from my shock. Or not.

As pretty much anyone who reads this blog with any degree of regularity is aware, I have a longstanding beef with the ACLU. They don't play nicely with others.

The organization loves to create judicial tsunami waves and send them crashing towards the shores of our American way of life, in efforts to erode the sands of the shores we tread on and undermine our foundations as a people. The ACLU does not function as it was apparently designed to anymore. It has become a churning activism machine for extreme liberalism. Even if we give the ACLU the benefit of the doubt and choose to believe that it began with noble intention and purpose as it so often claims in its defense, it has wandered WAY off that reservation. The ACLU supports amorality at each turn. The ACLU strikes against Christianity and Judaism at every opportunity. The ACLU defends the predators among us in their offense of the innocent among us. The ACLU supports the civil liberties of some over others based on an litmus test of amoral secularism tinged with politics and the ever-present aroma of money-fueled power.

Whoosh! I feel better just getting that all out...

My compadres at Stop the ACLU.com offer an on-point evaluation (with sadly, less Lachen-esque ranting) of the latest ACLU attempt to tatoo the American system with their brand of an ill-conceived secularized utopianism best described as Amoral Depravity. I direct you to their site for the full story, but offer the following vital snippets here:

"...For the first time since Robert Bork, the ACLU are officially opposing a nominee for the Supreme Court. I couldn't expect any less of the organization. The ACLU vote came after a special meeting of its 83-member national board this weekend, which has voted to oppose only two nominees in its 86-year history: Justice William Rehnquist, and Robert Bork.

NEW YORK ~ The American Civil Liberties Union announced today that it will oppose the nomination of Judge Samuel A. Alito, Jr. to replace Justice Sandra Day O'Connor on the United States Supreme Court.

In December the ACLU sent a 68 page report of Judge Alito's records, along with their letter of "deep concern" to to Senate Judiciary Committee Chairman Arlen Specter and Ranking Member Patrick Leahy. From the recent questioning we have heard from various democrats, it wouldn't be a bad guess that this is where they got many of their talking points...

"Judge Alito has all too often taken a hostile position toward our fundamental civil liberties and civil rights," said Caroline Fredrickson, Director of the ACLU Washington Legislative Office. "The Supreme Court is the final guardian of our liberties, and Judge Alito has shown that he lacks the dedication to that commitment. Recent revelations about White House-sanctioned domestic spying, in defiance of the law, make it clear that the Senate cannot, and must not, approve this nominee."

Translation: The ACLU are deeply concerned that if Judge Alito is confirmed, much of their efforts to force a radical agenda on America through judicial activism might be slowed down dramatically. They have already declared that Bush has broken the law, when their is no evidence to back them up. They are concerned that this Judge just might rule in favor of fighting terrorism, homeland security measures, and the governments efforts to protect Americans."

And that would just be a TERRIBLE thing, wouldn't it? Instead, that ACLU spends its ample time supporting such laudable causes as the utter defense of aborting our babies on demand, defending NAMBLA and other sex offenders in their pursuit of preying on our children, and removing all religious symbols and prayers from public space. And GOD FORBID we erect a Christmas manger display in an American public park. Because THAT has no place in the America envisioned by the folks over at the ACLU.

Sheesh - who ARE these people?

Cause for pause

**NOTE**Before reading this entry, you might want to take a gander at my May 12, 2005 bog entry about my Dad. It is probably necessary to gain a more complex understanding of the dynamic concerning my Dad so you'll be even remotely capable of comprehending the meaning of this post and its catalyst.**

I have been non-deliberately silent over here for 5 days. I am sorry for that, as the passing of time just kind of got away from me without my consent. My little blog pause was not without good reason. I was hit with quite a powerful happening in the life of Lachen this week and it has required extra care in proper navigation:

You see, My Dad Wrote Me.

Sent me a Christmas card in the form of a Certified, Registered letter. His card contained a photo of he and his wife, 27 cautiously crafted words, plus a return address that indicates he now lives less than an hour from my home.

Jarring. Disconcerting. Wrenching.

He wants to see me. I guess. Not really sure. His writing is, as always, effusive, lyrical, and noncommittal. Essnetially, many words signifying something elusive to most all but him. But he not make any mention of the hurt. No apologies, no acknowledgement of having walked out on his children for fifteen years. No talk of reconciliation. Just wants to "See me soon???" and "life is way short to be apart"

It scared me. To the center of my being. And it thrust me back into that place of fear, that sting of pain, rush of emotions, and that sense of utter grief I experience as the pungent aroma of my father in my life. One letter caused every hurtful wound long scarred over, to cascade over me in a waterfall of tears which have broken the surface in Casa Lachen steadily since Thursday's receipt of this certified, registered Christmas card from someone I have not seen but once in 15 years who happens to be my Father. Gratefully, successive phone calls made to my mother, sister, and brother moved me to restoration and tucked me back under God's wing. Back to a hard-earned refuge of homeostatic shelter from Dad's storm. And into peace.

My brother received a card from Dad, too. Also sent by Certified Mail (what parent sends their children cryptic Christmas cards by certified mail after a 15-year absence? Who does that?). Tonight, my brother was dialing the phone to me at the same time I was dialing my phone to call him. We had a great deal to talk about.

It seems that my dad, the one man who has inflicted more hurt onto me and my brother and sister than is possible to convey, seeks unconditional access to my life now. Wants to pretend everything is alright. But far more impactful, assumes he is entitled to that same access to my husband. And to my children. My babies.

I cannot risk him hurting them as he did me. I cannot risk his unhealthy, harmful, sometimes evil influence upon my innocent children and will not lay out the welcome mat for my dad to waltz back into my life and thus, into Copper's, Joyboy's and LaLa's. It is unthinkable to me to invite this poisonous individual, though he is my father, to infect the protected womb of our family. I will not permit that.

I have been absent from this blog for 5 days now, thinking, praying, and pondering the response God means for me to offer my Dad. Who, for all he has inflicted, all he has caused to happen, all he has done and continues to do, is still loved by His creator. Is still worthy of my love, and eventual forgiveness. And who deserves to hear the truth from his daughter and to be held accountable for the havoc he has wreaked in his children's lives. And who must not be allowed to harm a second generation of my family so long as I draw breath.

With that in mind, Copper and I agreed that I will craft a letter of response, speaking directly, point by point, to the accountability and reconciliation which must occur in order to begin the process of restoration. My dad, with 99% assuredness, will not answer this letter. He has been and likely continues to be, unwilling to step forward into the light of integrity and finds shelter, instead, in relying on darkness to cover himself and avoid laying bare and actually apologizing and making wrong, RIGHT. But where there is a 1% chance, there is hope, right? If God wishes to perform a miracle in the life of my dad and myself, I cannot refuse to participate.

This is potentially the single greatest challenge and scariest thing I have ever done. To actually lick this stamp, place it on the envelope, and send it.

May this letter be accompanied by winged seraphim and achieve its Godly intended purpose, whatever that is to become. May my fear continue to be pacified by the knowledge that the Lord is my Shepherd and that whatever steps I take by his counsel, I do not take alone.

Enterprising Ebay

Ebay is often a source of amusement for me.

Currently, there is a guy on Ebay wishing to auction off himself - or at least a portion of his left side neck - for a permanent tatoo of the winning bidder's choosing.

http://cgi.ebay.com/ADVERTISE-ON-ME-STEEL-IRON-TATOO-HUMAN_W0QQitemZ5652011357QQcategoryZ102333QQssPageNameZWDVWQQrdZ1QQcmdZViewItem

I wonder about this guy.

Turning lanes

The little handle next to the steering wheel in most standard autmobiles in America is known as a "turn signal". It is used to signal a turn or a lane change. Ideally, this indication would take place BEFORE one makes said turn or lane change.

Just posting this little gentle reminder for all those who changed lanes perilously in front of my car on the freeway today without using this subtle indicator that I was imminently about to have a 3000 pound vehicle upon me. The driver of the bright yellow Hummer who flashed his turn signal once while in mid-lane change does get half credit for at least partial effort. But everyone else failed miserably. And I'm not even grading on the curve.

Using turn signals. A lost American art?

Please Stop Them

Note to advertising executives everywhere,

Those disgusting olive green MUCUS blob characters are not effective at propelling your COLD/FLU products in a positive light. They are gross. They are disturbing. They are disgusting. They are a repellant to all things good and pure.

I hereby request that the Mucus Guys go away. Now. Please? Please stop the Mucus Guys.

All in favor, say "I".