Tat's All, Folks!

If anyone outside of Kern County, California, comes across a positive story about Bakersfield, I would appreciate having it forwarded to me. My hometown tends to make the news for less than commendable reasons, especially since Buck Owens died. Buck provided us some good press.

A couple of weeks ago a friend in Wisconsin let us know that the cheeseheads in Racine were shaking their cheddar rounds about Bakersfield because of a story making the news up there. Actually, we went well beyond simply making the news. We vaulted into the satirical stratosphere by being featured on “The Colbert Report”. Even those who are only occasional viewers of the nightly slices of satire dished out by Stephen Colbert will immediately know that having your community spotlighted on his show is not likely to be seen as a good thing the next morning at the local Chamber of Commerce.

It seems that one of God’s warriors in Bakersfield, a doctor, has taken it upon himself to protect the sensitive and obviously ill families who come into his clinic, which is ironically called Christian Medical Services. I label that label ironic because the name might lead people to believe that essential Christian values such as love and compassion would be paramount in that clinic.

The good Dr. Gary Alexander Merrill has a firm policy at his clinic – he will not deliver medical services to anyone who has a visible tattoo. (By the way, I’m always a tad suspicious of a guy who uses his full name because even his mom and dad didn’t call him by his full name unless he was in trouble.) Dr. Merrill offers this explanation, "Our policies all reflect consideration for conservative clientele in a traditional atmosphere ... a sort of refuge from the crudeness and vulgarity of the public sector."

Damn the public and their crude and vulgar atmosphere! Conservatives should flee to the refuge offered by Jesu ... uh ... Gary!

Okay, this is America and a private businessman like Dr. Merrill can, as the omnipresent placard says, “Reserve the right to refuse services to anyone.” All of us potential patients can only hope that the doctors among us are a little more discriminating in exercising that right than the local Denny’s might be.

Along comes a patient in need of Dr. Merrill’s care and treatment for a painful ear infection. The doctor’s office refused to treat this patient because they could see tattoos. Hey, that’s the policy, sick people; so just deal with it. Of course this is Bakersfield and that means there’s always an extra twist. Said another way, our zealots are a little more twisted than the run-of-the-mill simian zealots in, say, Dayton, Tennessee.

The patient in this case was a two-year old girl. Needless to say, she had no visible tats. I’d wager big bucks on the likelihood that she had no invisible tats. So, what kept her from being treated, the uninformed might ask. Her mommy and daddy had tats that were visible to the naked eye.

You might imagine that mommy’s and daddy’s tats were pretty graphic, maybe with some satanic or at least some hell-raising motif. Surely daddy’s tats were promoting alcohol or drug addiction, right? Nope. Well then, you might imagine that these tats were prominently arrayed on bare arms or legs, around the neck, or on some titillating part of a bare midriff, right? Nope. The offending tats consisted of three stars behind mommy’s and daddy’s ears.

Tat’s all, folks!

Now, admittedly, if mommy or daddy had laid down in the doctor’s waiting room (hey – it could happen!) then at that angle those stars might have looked like satanic pentagrams, at least from a distance, and there’s obviously no place in a traditional atmosphere for stars standing on their head and posing as pentagrams. Of course, up close anyone could see that there was no goat’s head superimposed on those pentagrams, but who’s going to get that close to someone who is visibly crude and vulgar and who might be a Satanist.

In any event, the sins of the mother and father were visited upon the daughter and they all were asked to leave and take those stars and that painful ear infection with them.

Somehow the doctor’s policy just doesn’t strike me as Christian, especially when it results in denying medical care for a little child who isn’t old enough to say the words “crude”, “vulgar” or “tattoo”. This policy is nothing more than a business policy akin to “No shirt and shoes; no service” or “No pets allowed.” Dr. Merrill needs to own his prejudice and not lay if off on Jesus, the Christian faith, family values, or even his conservative clientele, many of whom would probably be shocked by its application to a tat-free toddler in pain.

I find it hard to believe that, if asked, the doctor and his staff could in good conscience offer this policy as an answer to the popular wristband question, “What would Jesus do?” After all, there’s a best-selling book written by a guy named Mark that teaches us that Jesus was more given to an office policy that reads, “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not; for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.” Dr. Merrill lost an opportunity to make a little blessed contact with the kingdom of God that day. That makes him a loser.

But, at least his sins are forgiven. Of course, that means that he’s a sinner in the first place and that makes inquiring minds wonder how comfortable it is for his conservative clientele to be around sinners like him. I mean, aren’t sins worse than tats? Apparently that’s not the case – because Dr. Merrill will testify with his hand on the Bible that while Jesus offers forgiveness for sins, there’s no forgiveness for any goddamned tats. There’s only the burning fire of laser removal.

We shouldn’t underestimate Dr. Gary Alexander Merrill. After all, the guy survived all that trouble he got into as a kid and got through medical school. He’s smart enough to write an office policy that covers this issue. Remember, he simply wants to preserve a traditional atmosphere for sick conservatives. And we all know that while tats may not be part of that atmosphere – sins sure as hell are.

Shame on You & Your Salad Bar, Nancy

I’ve been pretty quiet here recently on the political and religion fronts. There’s just too much crap in the bowl; I can’t get focused on anything in the swirling mess long enough to write about it. Needless to say, I’ve been more than willing to take shots at the Bush administration. But, with the unending struggles in Iraq and Afghanistan and the parade of debacles involving Walter Reed, Scooter Libby and the U.S. Attorneys there are just too many targets of opportunity on that side of the aisle. Where do you start; where do you stop?

Never wanting to be outdone by the other side in any endeavor, the Dims have now provided a focused target worthy of a Patriot missile attack. On Friday the Dims in the House pounded through the “U.S. Troop Readiness, Veteran’s Health and Iraq Accountability Act.” Any piece of legislation with a title like that is bound to be a target for something. In this instance, the target is as old as prostitution – the sleazy role played by money in the never-ending pay-for-play drama enacted each and every day on the banks of the Potomac.

The president asked for an additional $103 billion to fight the war on terror in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere. He got it, with an additional $21 billion tossed in for good measure, Congress being the generous gang they are. The president got a lot more than money, however. He got a series of deadlines for withdrawing U.S. troops from Iraq; strict standards for training, equipping and resting our troops before they’re sent into combat; and a set of binding benchmarks for actions that must be taken by the Iraqi government. Those measures produced a vote that adhered closely to party lines. The Dims, for the most part, support those measures; the Rebs, for the most part, oppose them.

Those measures are not the target for my missile attack because I support most of them. My disgust is about the money, and I don’t mean the money for the war. I mean the money for the Denny’s salad.

It seems the Dims were having trouble lining up the votes they needed, so they resorted to a tried and true practice in American politics – they bought them. The $124 billion appropriated in a bill that was ostensibly about troop readiness, veteran’s health, and Iraq accountability included some decidedly non-war-related ingredients. Here’s the lineup, which prompted Representative Mike Pence, R-Ind. to say, “That’s not a war funding bill, that’s the salad bar at Denny’s.”

- Spinach growers got $25 million because the E. coli scare hurt their sales
- The shrimp industry got $120 million because Katrina hurt their sales
- Federal support for peanut storage got a $74 million extension
- Shellfish producers got $5 million to fight a clam virus
- In the non-salad column, the U.S. Capitol power plant got $50 million for asbestos cleanup

Each of those appropriations secured one or more votes for funding the war on terrorism and taking a Congressional stance on life and death issues like troop readiness, veteran’s health, and Iraq accountability. What a principles-centered lot our Congress is. It’s nice to see their values-based approach to government – meaning they value whatever puts money in the pockets of the people who vote for them.

I place the blame for this particular piece of political bribery not just on the representatives who demanded and received the payoff but on the House leadership for allowing it to happen. Nancy Pelosi and her lieutenants wanted an anti-Bush bill so badly that they forgot that this vote was about something immeasurably more important than poking the president in the eye with a partisan stick. They forgot that this vote was actually about the lives and well being of hundreds of thousands of U.S. troops and veterans and Iraqi citizens. How in God’s name did they permit anyone to bring spinach, shrimp and peanuts into that equation!

The Dim leadership should have told their caucus, “This is the vote that on November 7th the American people sent you here to cast. So, however your conscience guides you cast that vote one way or the other on that basis and that basis alone. We’ll talk about your need for salad bar ingredients tomorrow.” Just as the Dims demand accountability in the West Wing and the Iraqi government, for good reason, they must demand accountability in their own ranks.

Because the president will veto any bill that contains any form of restraint on his presumed power to wage war in whatever manner and for however long he prefers, this slab of slimy pork isn’t likely to get delivered to the congressional districts that apparently need to ride on the backs of U.S. troops and veterans in order to get federal support for their lagging business interests. Our troops are carrying enough; they don’t need to haul any Georgia peanuts to storage.

The Rebs shamed themselves in the Abramoff and lobbying scandals, for which they were justifiably scorned by the Dims. Now, just weeks into their reclaimed majority status, the Dims are bringing shame on themselves with equally justified scorn being poured out by the Rebs. It’s just a matter of time before this ball of shame gets hit back into the far court, and then back again into the near court. If only this were tennis instead of determining the future of the nation that stands as the alleged leader of the free world.

The allocation of money and the votes and political power it brings are the root of essentially all governmental evil. Right now, two elements of the axis of evil are headquartered in Washington, DC in the guise of our two political parties. We need to watch both of them about as carefully and as often as we do the other members of the axis of evil headquartered in Tehran and Pyongyang.

The Happiest Place on Earth

A week ago yesterday I spent a wonderful day at Disneyland with my oldest daughter and my grandson. It was made a little more special because the day happened at my daughter’s invitation. An invitation from one of the kids always makes for a nice occasion.

I love Disneyland, always have and always will. This was at least my 12th visit to the Magic Kingdom and it continues to work its magic on me. My family should grow very concerned about my mental and emotional well being if the day arrives when I announce that I’m not interested in making the next trip to The Happiest Place on Earth.

When I went as a child, I enjoyed Disneyland as a child. When I’ve returned as an adult I’ve done so in the company of children and I’ve enjoyed watching each of those children discover what I discovered as a child. It never gets old.

This was perhaps the first visit for which I had no agenda whatsoever. I was there for one purpose and that was to spend the day with part of my family. I didn’t care where we went or what we did. I didn’t care when we started or when we stopped. I didn’t care when or what we ate. I was carefree and it was a nice way to spend the day. I highly recommend carefree.

While I’m shocked at the reality that Disneyland will shortly turn 52 I’ve had the pleasure of watching this king of amusement parks develop from the beginning. My first trip there was in 1955, shortly after it opened. While we saw and rode everything available, at the age of six, I was drawn to Fantasyland, the center of the Kingdom, particularly Peter Pan’s Flight and Dumbo the Flying Elephant. I was thrilled to get my picture taken with life-sized cutouts of Davy Crockett (Fess Parker) and George Russell (Buddy Ebsen) in Frontierland, where mom and dad bought me a regulation Davy Crockett coonskin cap.

A second trip about three years later is remembered for two things – seeing my dad sitting on one of the park benches in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle at about 3:00PM – leg weary and worn out. The second memorable sight was seeing the Matterhorn under construction. It looked so impressive that it became almost the sole motivation for the third trip there a couple of years later, a trip that was enhanced by the new Submarine Voyage, which seemed amazingly real, and the Monorail, which signaled an amazing future in transportation – in Europe and Japan.

A drama unfolded outside the park on one of these first two visits. We stayed at the Alpine Inn on Katella Avenue, which is still in operation. Even though I couldn’t swim there was no way I could resist going in their pool, ostensibly to play in the shallow end. For some reason I convinced myself that somehow I had taught myself how to actually swim across the pool, no matter the depth of the water. I summoned my dad to watch this crossing, which I attempted in water deeper than I could stand in. Something went wrong about 3/4 of the way across the pool and I began to flounder, sputter and sink. I can still recall the wave of panic when I slipped below the surface. A couple of seconds later a hand grabbed hold of me and pulled me up and to the edge. I looked up into my dad’s face as he said, “Nice try, son; but it’s time to get out.” I didn’t object.

I’m sure there are a few rides that came and went in between my visits over the years, but the list of attractions that I haven’t seen at Disneyland is probably a single-digit number. News of something new at the park almost always prompted another visit, such as trip from college in the spring of 1967 to see New Orleans Square and the latest E-ticket ride, Pirates of the Caribbean, for the first time.

Speaking of E-ticket rides (Disneyland called them coupons), it didn’t take too many visits before the A and B-tickets began to go unused and the D and E-tickets were in short supply. When my young family first went to Disneyland in 1982 and discovered that visitors could enter the park for one admission price and ride anything and everything as often as desired, it seemed too good to be true.

As my children got older and I drew closer to being the man my dad was while sitting on that park bench, I felt the need to identify “rest stops” that didn’t look like rest stops. It didn’t take long to designate “It’s a Small World” for that purpose. Sitting in those slow-moving boats, dragging my hand in the cool water as we coasted along through country after country of singing dolls was a perfect 15-minute, afternoon respite – though there was a steep price to be paid. The price of that little open-eyed siesta was having that song repeat itself in my head over and over for the next week. “It’s a small world after all; it’s a small world after all; it’s a small, small world.” That song was big enough to fill my small, small mind.

Long-time Disneyland visitors know that song isn’t the only instance of what has been variously dubbed "repetunitis", "stuck tune syndrome", or "melodymania." In the late 60s and early 70s, a trip to the General Electric Carousel of Progress in Tomorrowland would produce the same semi-pleasant, mind-numbing effect (I understand the GE Carousel is still operating at Disney World). The repeated tune in this attraction is actually a pretty good theme song for the Disney experience – the hope for a happier and more magical kingdom in the world, where children and adults can retreat for a day or two and just enjoy each other’s company. The Carousel promised us that:

"There's a great, big beautiful tomorrow shining at the end of every day; there's a great, big, beautiful tomorrow, and tomorrow's just a dream away."

Thanks, Walt.

Five Years Gone

Today marks five years since Danny died in this room. This morning, for the first time since his memorial service, I reread the comments that I made at that service. It seems appropriate to say them again. You may also wish to reread the comments posted here on March 15, 2006.

I miss you, Danny.
___________________________________

Danny Paul Klancher - Memorial Services
March 20, 2002 - Laurelglen Bible Church

It's a privilege for me to be able to say a few things on this occasion, and I sincerely appreciate it; though I wish with all my heart that none of us were here and that this church stood empty this afternoon.

When thinking about what to say, I considered two subjects, "Danny, the character," or "the character of Danny."

§ You've seen some of "Danny, the character" in the video presentation and the lobby displays, so I'd like to say some things about "the character of Danny," while saying a few things about the providence of God.

§ But – when the discussion turns to Danny’s character, then the first thought for many of us is "This isn't fair; this shouldn't happen."

§ And, the first question for many of us is "Why did this happen; where is the providence of God in this tragedy?"

§ Here and now, my answer to that question is "I don't know; I don't understand it. At least not today. So, I won't pretend that I do understand it."

§ But – if I trust in God, then I can see a day when I will find an answer that will bring sufficient understanding.

§ And, in knowing that an answer will come in time, I find sufficient peace today.

In the 33rd chapter of Exodus, God and Moses have a dialog, and at one point Moses asks God to show himself to Moses. God's answer is poetic and profound. He says,

"I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you and I will proclaim my name in your presence…but, you cannot see my face…There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock [and when] my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock, and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back…."

§ Ancient Jewish literature says that this scripture means that we cannot see the providence of God as it approaches us, nor can we see it when it’s facing us, because we cannot see the face of God.

§ After he passes, however, we are allowed to see the back of God, and thus to understand his providence. We can appreciate God's foresight only in our hindsight.

§ Looking back, we can see how God was looking forward - and that is providence.

§ We must trust in God. Even though we do not see his providence here and now, one day the hand of God will be removed, and after he passes by we will look out from the cleft in this hard rock.

§ And on that day, we will see the back of God; we will see his providence in all that has happened here and now.

§ As your program cover says, quoting from the Book of Revelation, "God will wipe away every tear from our eyes." I believe that is true.

I recently read a book comparing the traditions of Christian and Buddhist monasticism, and in it the author notes three realizations that are keys to living in peace. We must realize that:

§ All birth ends in death;
§ All accumulation ends in dispersion; and
§ All meetings end in separation.

The first realization, that all birth ends in death, is painfully obvious to us today.

The third realization, that all meetings end in separation, is about our relationships in this life. We meet people, and we separate from each of them, without exception. In this life, each of us had a first meeting with Danny, and a last separation from him.

It's the second realization, however, that commands some attention today. All accumulation ends in dispersion. Everything we accumulate in this life is going somewhere else, someday, without exception.

§ Normally, this might pertain primarily to our material things, our tangible wealth. Well, Danny had very little of that and its dispersion will be quick and easy.

§ But – he accumulated many other things that are far more important. His investment portfolio, if you will, was in his character.

§ Danny Klancher accumulated strength, patience, endurance, resilience, tenacity, and courage, and he did so in almost unbelievable quantity and quality.

§ As I say that, I remember Ted Kennedy's comment at the funeral of his brother, Robert Kennedy, when he said, "We must be careful not to make more of him in his death than he was in his life." That's good advice.

§ But – with Danny, I don't think I can overstate the depth of character we witnessed in him over the last four and a half years, and particularly over the last two months.

§ We could tell you many painful and heart-wrenching stories to prove this point.

So, here’s the realization: Danny's accumulation of character has now been dispersed - to us, in direct proportion to our closeness to him.

Like a seedpod bursting open, his strength, patience, endurance, resilience, tenacity and courage have been dispersed to his family and his friends – to you, and to me.

What will we do with it? What will we make of it?

§ We have a moral imperative to accept this dispersion, and most importantly, to be changed by it, to use it for good in the world, and to thus ensure that Danny's accumulation is not wasted.

§ Danny Klancher lives on in this life through this dispersion to us, and from it something of value must arise - that is our charge; and something of value will arise - that is our promise.

§ But – we should also realize that as we follow Danny’s lead in the continued expression of his character, we actually follow the image of God within him – because he was created in the image of God, and God is the ultimate source of all of these character traits.

§ And, as we follow the image of God, what will happen? We will see the back of God - we will see the providence of God as Danny's accumulation is dispersed to us and is then manifest in and through our lives.

Whenever I dropped Danny off in front of Stockdale High School at the beginning of his day, he would shoulder his heavy backpack (which is very symbolic to me, right now) and before closing the car door (which is also very symbolic to me, right now), he would invariably say, "Later, Jon." And, I'd often reply, "Later, Dan."

Those were the last words I whispered to him on Friday morning, "Later, Dan." But - how much later? Let me tell you what I was thinking as I whispered those words.

The Bible teaches in Psalms, Job and 2nd Peter that a thousand of our years here are as a day to God in heaven. In Psalms 90, we read,

"You are God … you turn men back to dust, saying, 'Return to dust, O sons of men.' For a thousand years in your sight are like a day that has just gone by…. You sweep men away in the sleep of death; they are like the new grass of the morning - though in the morning it springs up new, by evening it is dry and withered. The length of our days … quickly pass, and we fly away. Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Without debating the literal or figurative nature of this scripture, the math isn’t too difficult. Under this biblical formula, one year to us is only a minute and 26 seconds to God, and now to Danny.

So, for example, if I live another 20 - 30 years here, then I’ll join Danny in only 30 - 40 minutes in God's time, in Danny's time. Each of you will join him just a little bit sooner, or a little bit later.

Somehow, that gives me some comfort –

§ comfort while we all await the providence of God
§ while we all await the sowing of the seeds and the reaping of the accumulated character that Danny has dispersed to us, and
§ while we all await our time to join him

If you remember nothing else, remember this -

§ Danny Paul Klancher was the "No Fear" kid.

§ He fought cancer for over four years without fear, and he left this life without fear, because he lived here with a pure and unadorned faith in God, and because he loved his family and his friends with a genuineness of heart.

§ He died in peace because he lived in peace.

Now, may God bless each of us to come to that same fearless, loving and peaceful place at the end of our time here. And, when that time arrives, may each of us simply say, "God must want me." Indeed.

God bless you all, and thank you for sharing this difficult time with us.

Later, Sir Dan.

An Unsustainable Path

I’ve mentioned several times that I’ve been a registered Republican since I was 21. One of the Reb articles of faith back in those old days was reducing the national debt and balancing the federal budget. The Dims were labeled the “tax and spend” party, for good reason. Then, out of the blue, came a president named Reagan and one named Bush and the national debt soared to unprecedented levels and balancing the budget became something that was always going to happen four to six years in the future.

The ultimate economic curveball came during the Clinton presidency when the long run of annual budget deficits magically morphed into a large budget surplus, thereby confirming that the political world had turned upside down. When Bush 2 entered the West Wing he resumed the course set by Reagan and Bush 1, which brings us to the bleak outlook we face today.

Following are two summaries from reports recently issued by the General Accounting Office. If anyone is interested the full reports can be obtained via the highlighted links. They speak for themselves and their message is not good. Anyone with young children or grandchildren – i.e., many, many of us – should pay close heed to the less than subtle warnings in these reports. Unfortunately, there are numerous other GAO and Congressional Budget Office reports that sound similar alarms for those who are willing to hear them.

The question is: does anyone in the White House or the Capitol Building in Washington hear them? We’ve become fiscally irresponsible as a nation and the ticking clock in the croc’s belly can be heard even above the din of the political rhetoric that flows from both sides of the isle. Read it and weep.
____________________________

The Nation's Long-Term Fiscal Outlook: January 2007 Update GAO-07-510R February 23, 2007

Since 1992, GAO has published long-term fiscal simulations of what might happen to federal deficits and debt levels under varying policy assumptions. GAO developed its long-term model in response to a bipartisan request from Members of Congress who were concerned about the long-term effects of fiscal policy. In 1992 GAO said: "The federal budget is structurally unbalanced. This will do increasing damage to the economy and is unsustainable in the long term. Regardless of the approach chosen, prompt and meaningful action is essential. The longer it is delayed, the more painful it will be." These words are as relevant today as when GAO first published them.

GAO's current long-term simulations continue to show ever-larger deficits resulting in a federal debt burden that ultimately spirals out of control. Although the timing of deficits and the resulting debt build up varies depending on the assumptions used, both simulations GAO produced show that we are on an unsustainable fiscal path.

Fiscal Stewardship: A Critical Challenge Facing Our Nation GAO-07-362SP January 31, 2007

The U.S. government is the largest, most diverse, most complex, and arguably the most important entity on earth today. The United States is also a great nation. It has much to be proud of and much to be thankful for. However, our nation is not well positioned to meet the challenges and capitalize on the opportunities of the 21st Century. We are also failing to properly discharge one of our biggest stewardship responsibilities to our children, grandchildren, and generations of unborn Americans: fiscal responsibility. The purpose of this publication is to assist both the Congress and American citizens in understanding and evaluating the federal government's current financial condition and long-term fiscal outlook.

The federal government's financial condition and fiscal outlook are worse than many may understand. Despite an increase in revenues in fiscal year 2006 of about $255 billion, the federal government reported that its costs exceeded its revenues by $450 billion (i.e., net operating cost) and that its cash outlays exceeded its cash receipts by $248 billion (i.e., unified budget deficit). Further, as of September 30, 2006, the U.S. government reported that it owed (i.e., liabilities) more than it owned (i.e., assets) by almost $9 trillion. In addition, the present value of the federal government's major reported long-term "fiscal exposures" – liabilities (e.g., debt), contingencies (e.g., insurance), and social insurance and other commitments and promises (e.g., Social Security, Medicare) – rose from $20 trillion to about $50 trillion in the last 6 years.

The federal government faces large and growing structural deficits in the future due primarily to known demographic trends and rising health care costs. These structural deficits, which are virtually certain given the design of our current programs and policies, will mean escalating and ultimately unsustainable federal deficits and debt levels. Based on various measures and using reasonable assumptions, the federal government's current fiscal policy is unsustainable. Continuing on this imprudent and unsustainable path will gradually erode, if not suddenly damage, our economy, our standard of living, and ultimately our domestic tranquility and national security.
____________________________

Protecting our national security is all the rage right now. It’s time to deploy the troops in the Legislative and Executive Branches of the federal government to fight this enemy that openly and unabashedly stalks our children and grandchildren every day and every night. This is a potentially crippling threat of our own making and no one can solve it but us.

How? Every household in America knows the answer – increase our revenue and decrease our spending – the two things that politicians dread the most. Well, boys and girls, recess is over. The troops in uniform have set the example for the troops in suits – it’s time for an infusion of honor, courage and commitment in Washington, DC.

Oh, Nuts, Roy!

WARNING! To all librarians in Colorado, Missouri and Kentucky, do not, I repeat, DO NOT READ this posting because it contains a VERY BAD word that, apparently, will offend you to the core!

Cover your eyes, Marian, because I’m about to reveal the dirty word that makes an unholy reference to a universal but seldom-discussed male body part. That word is … (last chance to avert your gaze) …

SCROTUM!

Oh, dear god, the nastiness of it all! All of us who chose not to avert our eyes need a mind shower in order to cleanse ourselves of the toxic impact of reading that word.

Most everyone has probably already heard the story about Susan Patron, the Los Angeles City librarian who recently won a Newbery Award for her children’s book entitled, The Higher Power of Lucky. The book was written for the 9 – 11 year old crowd. A Newbery is awarded by the Association for Library Service to Children, a division of the American Library Association.

Ms. Patron, 58, in her round glasses and cardigan sweater, cup of hot tea in hand, appears to be a paradigm of librarian virtue. She is responsible for assembling children’s materials for the L.A. library system. But, she pretty much messed in her Dewey decimal nest by not getting past the first page in her story before referring, ever so briefly, to the scrotum on a dog named Roy.

Lucky, a 10-year old orphan girl and the heroine of the story, overhears a recovering alcoholic recount the low point in his life – getting drunk on rum and falling out of his ’62 Cadillac “when he saw a rattlesnake on the passenger seat biting his dog, Roy, on the scrotum.” Lucky concludes that the word “sounded medical and secret, but important,” which is probably close to what most 10-year old children hearing the word or reading the book would conclude.

As Elmer Fudd would say, “That’s it, folks!” That's the sine qua non of the whole salacious scrotum scandal. No further reference is made; no other passages in the book are being found objectionable, even in Missouri (you’d think the “Show Me” state would be a little more open about the anatomical details surrounding an encounter between a dog and a snake in a Cadillac).

Nonetheless, this egregious error in judgment was enough to raise the hackles on the necks of some curs in various libraries in at least three states. One librarian in Durango, Colorado, Dana Nilsson, went so far as to compare Ms. Patron to shock-jock Howard Stern. Ms. Nilsson, evoking certain stereotypical librarian images, sniffed that people like Ms. Patron and Mr. Stern are trying “to see how far they could push the envelope, but they didn’t have the children in mind. How very sad.” Indeed. Cue the mournful music – Ms. Nilsson has lost whatever common sense she ever had.

Some teachers complained that they were uncomfortable reading the word aloud, while others whined that they didn’t want to get calls from angry parents. After all this baying at the moon about the “disgusting” opening to Lucky’s story, some of these librarians and teachers said they were going to pull the book from their shelves in order to “protect the children”. This would be laughable if it weren’t so ridiculous.

If we collectively made a list of all the things in the world that our children should be protected from seeing and hearing, I wonder where an off-hand reference to a dog’s scrotum would fall on that list. May I suggest somewhere around 9,482nd on the list. The morning newspaper, the evening news, a cross section of prime-time entertainment, any number of video games, and the contents on the average adolescent’s iPod expose kids to about a thousand things a day that are more harmful than mentioning the nut sack on hound dog named Roy.

But, never fear, this is America. Things like this have a way of working themselves out in a free market system that weds capitalism and the First Amendment. Ms. Patron’s book has jumped onto several Best Seller lists, thanks to the likes of Ms. Nilsson. The book is now selling like French postcards in a boy’s locker room.

Happily, a completely unexpected beneficial use has been found for this book. Dog pounds and chapters of the ASPCA are using it to brief dogs on the dangers of hanging out with drunks who drive ’62 Cadillacs. Dogs everywhere now have an opportunity to learn something from the misfortune suffered by Roy. The dogs aren’t sure what the word “scrotum” means. But they’ve concluded that the lesson they’re being taught sounds medical and secret, but important.

Et tu, Laura

It’s one thing to be critical of the president; he makes that easy. It’s another thing to be critical of the first lady; she makes that difficult. Librarians are usually nice people and Laura Bush is a nice person. However, last week in an interview with Larry King she opened herself to serious criticism. I passed on the opportunity to comment on it, until hearing today’s news out of Iraq.

King asked about the impact of the war on Ms. Bush. She said that she found it “wearing, worrying”. Those are just about the two mildest words that could be used about a war that went well past the wearing and worrying stages sometime in 2004. But that’s not the commentary that gives rise to this post.

Ms. Bush went on to say, "Many parts of Iraq are stable now. But, of course, what we see on television is the one bombing a day that discourages everybody." At the risk of sounding patronizing, Laura Bush is smart and articulate and only the blindest allegiance to her husband and his woebegone band of civilian warriors could ever allow her to utter something that inane. Actually, “inane” is the mildest word that could be used about a piece of commentary like that.

Today’s “one bombing” in Iraq killed almost 100 people and wounded almost 200 others in Hillah, south of Baghdad. The victims were Shittes on a pilgramage to the holy city of Karbala. Given the obvious sectarian nature of this barbaric act, we can only wait and wonder what level of barbaric act will constitute the Shia response to this Sunni atrosity. Calling this kind of bombing “discouraging” is a gross understatement that almost ignores the extent of the human toll associated with a single event of this nature.

We’ve already forgotten yesterday’s “one bombing” at a Baghdad book market. After all, it only killed 30 and only wounded 70 others – mere child’s play, that one; much more in the “discouraging” category, don’t you agree?

What could the first lady have been thinking? How delusional does one have to be to reduce the daily death toll in Iraq to “one bombing” and it’s “discouraging” impact on Americans who see it on TV? It just goes to show that partisan allegiance will trump intellegence almost every time.

Of course there are very few, if any, days in Iraq when the carnage is limited to one bombing. Today’s explosive tally certainly didn’t stop at one. There were two other bombings north of Baghdad that killed nine American troops. I wonder if that causes something more than discouragement in the East Wing of the White House? We’ve leared by now that it doesn’t in the West Wing. This is the kind of day, however, that should make the inhabitants in both Wings throw up.

The killing of Americans and Iraqis continues unabated. If it’s not in the center of Baghdad, it’s to the north and south of Baghdad. As I’ve said here before, we can stomp on the bubble under the Baghdad carpet, but the bubble will just pop up elsewhere outside of Baghdad. Today, it’s to the north and the south; tomorrow, it’s just as likely to be to the east and the west. We know that the mole we’re trying to whack somewhere today will come up out of one of a dozen different holes tomorrow, just like he did yesterday. We can’t predict how many people will die tomorrow, but we know with a virtual certainty that dozens of men, women and children who are alive at this moment will be dead somewhere in Iraq at this same time tomorrow.

One bombing a day? We should be so lucky. Discouraging? We should be so fortunate as to feel merely discouraged.

I hate to say it, but it’s time for the first lady to return to the library. She needs to study current events day and night for the coming semester – without being interrupted for interviews, or by the TV for that matter.

Caring For Our Wounded

The outrage regarding the disgusting conditions being encountered by wounded soldiers at Walter Reed Army Medical Center continues to flow unabated. This revelation has cost the Secretary of the Army and the commanding general at Walter Reed their jobs. Congressional hearings are being held that will continue to probe for the root causes of this grossly unacceptable treatment of men and women wounded in combat. The Secretary of Veterans Affairs, a member of the Cabinet, may be the next to be held accountable.

This story was broken by The Washington Post and today the Post published a follow up story that is equally disturbing but, sadly, may no longer be surprising given what we’ve learned about conditions at Walter Reed. This story recounts the input, admittedly unverified at this point, now being received from wounded veterans from around the country. The message is simple: the problem isn’t confined to Walter Reed.

As I did with the first posting on this story on February 18, I won’t try to digest the latest reporting but will provide a link to the story and encourage everyone to read it: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/03/04/AR2007030401394.html.

The first reports on the Congressional hearings are also emerging and they paint a story of substandard care, neglect and bureaucratic indifference. If anyone can read the testimony offered today before a House committee and not grind the enamel off their teeth in anger, then I probably don’t want to hear about it. It makes me sick. The testimony is recounted in this New York Times article: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/05/washington/05cnd-medical.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin

I feel like every American has a duty to read and follow this story until the mistreatment of wounded and disabled veterans in DOD and VA facilities is adequately addressed across the country. It appears that the focus of the investigation is being directed primarily to the outpatient facilities and medical holding units rather than to the acute care units. I’ve been complimentary of the acute care my son received at the Naval Medical Center in San Diego, but the linked story relates a sickening experience by one Marine who was discharged from that facility with an open wound and sent to a room in an outpatient barracks that was infested with fruit flies. His mother removed him and checked him into a hotel.

One Iraqi vet lies nearly immobile and unable to speak in a VA hospital in the Bronx. His aunt testified today that nurses in that facility "fight over who's going to have to give him a bath -- in front of him!" Her nephew was left unattended in a shower of scalding water until he suffered third-degree burns on his legs. He couldn’t move himself away from the water.

Perhaps it’s time for these men and women to be awarded additional Purple Hearts for wounds suffered in the course of recovering from the war, along with other combat awards for having the guts to endure conditions at home that in some instances seem as bad as those they faced in Iraq or Afghanistan.

No politician in Washington, DC should be allowed to utter a word about supporting the troops if s/he isn’t on record as having demanded that all necessary corrective action be taken immediately and having taken specific steps to ensure such action is underway. And by “steps” I don’t mean “speeches” or “letters”, I mean on-site inspections and personal intervention in individual cases from their home states and districts. It’s time for each of them to step up to the firing line and be held accountable on this one.

There is no excuse for failing these men and women.

Did We Lose Our Trust in God?

My wife received an urgent message today from a good, God-fearing friend. It alerted my wife to a pending crisis of faith in America. This message was addressed to the sender’s family and closest friends – dozens of people.

The pending crisis is an almighty omission: the United States, my wife was told, has just issued the first coin of the realm without the words “In God We Trust” engraved on it. A picture of the coin was included for easy verification of the Omission of Omissions.

The allegedly offending coin is the new golden Presidential $1 coin. The U.S. mint will issue four of these $1 coins each year, beginning this year. The first one bears the face of none other than George W. himself – Washington, that is, not Walker. Each president will be honored in due course. This coin replaces the less-than-beloved Sacagawea dollar, which replaced the even-less-beloved Susan B. Anthony dollar. After all, everybody loves the presidents.

The message of alarm being circulated says:

"Well, here is another thing for me to boycott – our first coin without ‘In God We Trust’ on it! I will refuse it! It does not have ‘In God We Trust’ on it – another way of leaving God out. Send this on and let consumers decide if it will win acceptance or not.”

There’s only one, small thing wrong with the message. It isn’t true. The words of concern are engraved on the edge of the coin, as can be seen at:
http://www.usmint.gov/mint_programs/$1coin/index.cfm?action=Washington

This clarion call to boycott a coin is clearly one of those infamous emails that gets forwarded to thousands upon thousands of people without anyone taking the minute or two, literally, necessary to confirm its assertions. Religious indignation, rarely being righteous, has a tendency to speak first and think second, if at all.

These indignant defenses of God reveal a belief in a God who needs defending. My God neither needs nor desires any defense from the likes of us. The people who make an issue of this kind of thing fail to see the powerful God of Creation engraved on literally everything in this world. Their God is way too small.

At least all is well as the U.S. Mint. I guess we haven’t officially gone godless after all. Now, God willing, the refusals being tendered across the land can come to a merciful end.

Just in case someone thinks that we’ve relegated God to a minor position, these new coins will also have “E Pluribus Unum”, the year of issuance, and the mint mark engraved on the edge, along with “In God We Trust”. Actually, the upside of this coin is that God will be subject to much less wear in his new location. He will also no longer be taking sides in the perpetual battle between “heads” and “tails”. I always thought that the side of the coin with God on it had a clear advantage at the pre-game coin toss. We’re now restoring fairness at the 50-yard line.

Furthermore, the edge of a coin represents a circle, which has no beginning and no end, thereby signifying the eternal and infinite nature of God and the love he has for those of us who carry him around in our pockets. I’m sure all that pleases him.

But, still, you have to wonder whether the first time God picked up one of these coins he searched frantically from side to side trying to find his name, only to eventually breathe a deep sigh of relief at finding he was living on the edge!

God bless America.

Anchors Aweigh

Yesterday my oldest son and his family packed up their household goods and began their move to Norfolk, Virginia, where, after five months of training in Groton, Connecticut, he will serve a three-year stint as an independent duty corpsman onboard the USS Albany, a Los Angeles-class, fast attack submarine. While I’m excited about the career development opportunity this assignment affords him (it’s the top of the duty ladder for corpsmen), and I know that it affords his family an opportunity to be close to his wife’s family in North Carolina and Maryland, I’m saddened by the loss of opportunity for those of us who are now in their rearview mirror.

I’m not a rookie at watching one of my children move away from home. Only one of our children still lives in our hometown and three of them have moved to distant locations out of state at one time or another. But this is the first time that one of the kids has left California and may not return. I’m trying to tell myself “that’s life” but it isn’t working real well. I’m also ignoring the fact that my wife and I plan to “move away” when we retire – but that seems like a different issue. Ah, the games we play in our heads.

My son and his family packed a lot of living in the three and a half years that they’ve been in California. As my daughter-in-law observed, they became a true family here, having moved here just a couple of years into their marriage and a couple months after their first son was born. While here they lived in three locations, including on the beach; they had their second son; they developed family friends as opposed to just personal friends; they established several family traditions; and they established a firm foundation for a successful military career.

And they also sent a husband and father to war. Maybe that’s underlying my sense of loss. The last time my son packed up to leave the State of California was on February 19, 2004, only six months after arriving in San Diego. Early that morning at Camp Pendleton I watched him board a bus filled with Marines being deployed to Iraq. I truly believed that he would come home safe and sound. But, lurking in the background was the inescapable fear that accompanies every departure of a loved one into combat. No matter what you believe, there are simply things that you don’t know with sufficient certainty. It’s the “may not return” factor.

As a father, I’m pleased that my son will spend the next three and a half years getting into a navy blue uniform rather than a green and brown camouflage uniform; and I’m pleased that his service will not just be on the water but underwater rather than on land. Deployment to sea duty doesn’t seem nearly as bad as it did when he last went to sea in 2000.

Like it or not, that is life for a family with a son or daughter in the military. Ultimately a family makes peace with the separation in no small part because that service is honorable and courageous. In Iraq, my son saved lives and he gave aid and comfort to men who lost their lives – honor, courage and commitment to duty. No small thing, indeed.

This feeling was reinforced night before last when my wife and I watched Flags of Our Fathers, the story of the three survivors out of the six men who raised the flag on Mount Suribachi on Iwo Jima. Two of those men lived troubled or unfulfilling lives. But one of them – John “Doc” Bradley, a Navy corpsman – exhibited not only courage under fire but a depth of character that sustained him and his family long after he left the black and bloody sands of Iwo Jima. I thought about my son and all of the other men and women who serve to treat, heal, comfort and save lives as corpsmen and medics in the Armed Forces. I’m as proud of my son as James Bradley, the author of Flags of Our Fathers, is of his dad.

It’s a good and noble thing that these men and women do. And they must leave home to do it. So, I wish my son and his family, “Fair winds and following seas.”