Somewhere in Pennsylvania

wall flag

Driving this past summer between Pittsburgh and Gettysburg. Needed to stop for lunch.

Made our way off the Pennsylvania Turnpike, through a little town, and into a Pizza Hut. The buffet’s a crowd pleaser.

Sat down with our salads and slices. Remarked how this Pizza Hut was unlike any other restaurant we’d visited.

The place was decked out in Star Spangled Banner. Flags hung from the windows, the ceiling, the salad bar. All awash in red, white and blue.

salad bar

It was June 14th. Flag Day. Though it really didn’t matter. I’m a pushover when it comes to Old Glory. This was my kind of place.

Had the iPhone handy, so I snapped a couple pictures. After our meal, I walked the restaurant and snapped a few more.

Flag of Honor

That’s when I saw it. A large banner centered behind the buffet:

Flag of Honor. This flag contains the names of those killed in the terrorist attacks of 9.11. Now and forever it will represent their immortality. We shall never forget them.

Flag of Heroes

And centered on the other side, another banner:

Flag of Heroes. This flag contains the names of the emergency services personnel who gave their lives to save others in the terrorist attacks of 9.11. Now and forever it will represent their immortality. We shall never forget them.

Chilling, dignified, fearless patriotism. Alive and well in a small town pizza joint.

the wind farm

Soon we were back on the Turnpike. Green hills and forests surrounded us with billowing gray clouds overhead.

A wind farm south of the road offered the only hint of motion for miles. Low mountains rose in the distance, ahead of the quiet rain now spattering our windshield.

Picked up the iPhone again. Googled the county where we ate lunch: Somerset.

Mapped it in relation to the town in Pennsylvania: Shanksville.

Somewhere just north of us it happened. The hijacked plane plunged through these skies.

In this air, Todd Beamer prayed The Lord’s Prayer and concluded: “Are you guys ready? Let’s roll.”

There was no sign. No fanfare. No convenient off-ramp to pay respects. The highway speeded us through, leaving the place behind in the rain. We’d crossed hallowed ground and nearly missed it.

The people there will never forget. Will we?

overhead

Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12 NIV

Alan Jackson’s Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning bids us to remember.

This is the first of three posts commemorating the 10th anniversary of 9.11.2001. The second post The Angry American was published on September 1, 2011. The final post If You See Something was published on September 10, 2011.

Crows and Eagles

public domain image

Yesterday I posted a suggestion for how the government could save money by stopping those Social Security mailings fictitiously describing how much we will receive in retirement. I conservatively estimated we’d save about $3.14 million a year. Well, I was more than a little off.

Within less than two hours, my friend Amy read the post and informed me the SSA decided a few months ago to suspend the mailings for a savings of $70 million. I repeat: $70 MILLION. That should make you laugh and cry at the same time.

I love social media. Not only was I pleasantly corrected by a friend, but we all gained some information we didn’t have a mere day ago. Apparently, the government doesn’t have to notify us that they will no longer notify us. Or something like that.

Another friend who works for the government explained in a comment on FB that common sense doesn’t necessarily dictate. There are many easy ways to save money, but the government “likes to make things as complicated as possible.” Hmm.

Lessons learned? You betcha.

1. Dig deeper.

For me, that means to do so preferably before posting. Here’s the link to the SSA page about the mailings: http://www.ssa.gov/mystatement/

2. Share the love.

Thanks to Amy for speaking up. Follow her lead. If you know something, say something so the rest of us will know too.

3. Reach out.

I’m delighted to eat a little crow on this to the tune of $70 million. But the patriotic eagle in my heart is rising. I wonder. What are the other easy ways we could save money?

We’re in a budget crisis as a nation. Many of us are in one at home too. I know some of you watch your family budgets like hawks and sniff out ways to save like bloodhounds. Some of you work in government agencies or have ties to them. You have a ringside seat to witness where we could cut back.

All of us intersect with the government in one way or another. What are you seeing in your experience and expertise that could be simplified or cut with a cost savings for our country? What ideas do you, the People, have?

Would love to know your thoughts, so do share. You can always comment anonymously. If we get a few good ideas going, perhaps we’ll send them to our folks in Congress or the White House.

It’s our country after all. And it’s worth saving.

Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due,
when it is in your power to act. Proverbs 3:27 NIV

Get those patriotic juices flowing with School House Rock’s Preamble.

How the Government Can Save $3.14 Million This Year

June 18, 2011

With all this hoo-hah about the national budget, or lack thereof, I have an idea to save our country money. You know those Social Security updates we all get once a year?

Somewhere there’s a printer whose sole purpose is to produce these. And they do a nice job: 11″ x 17″ black and white plus one color, personalized with individual taxpayer information and address. One notification every year for each of the 157 million taxpayers who currently pay into Social Security.

Let’s conservatively estimate each notice costs one cent to print and personalize and one cent to mail. Yes, I know it costs more in real life, but we’re using our imaginations. We’ll give the federal government the benefit of the doubt here.

Two cents for each statement times 157 million taxpayers equals at least $3.14 million saved within the next year if the government stops printing them now. Paltry in comparison to our debt, but every little bit counts.

Then we’ll do what the government loves to do. We’ll forecast the estimated savings for the next 20 years: $62.8 million.

We can’t stop sending the notifications without notification! I have an idea for that too. The federal government can send one final notice.

Let’s print each taxpayer a simple 3″ x 5″ black and white postcard. It’s smaller than the 11″ x 17″ page, has no personalization except the address, and has no color. Let’s say it costs one cent to print and mail. We’ll still save at least $1.57 million within the next year.

The postcard will read:

We regret to inform you, the money is gone. You will not receive anything from Social Security when you retire. It will do you no good to sue us because there is nothing left and there is no clear defendant to name.

Since you will have to fend for yourself in retirement, you will pay a reduced rate of Social Security tax on what you earn effective immediately.

This rate will continue to be reduced incrementally during the next five years until it is cut to a reasonable, flat rate for all taxpayers. Any revenue collected for Social Security going forward will be used only for Social Security.

That’s it. No blame shifting. No grandstanding. No campaigning.

What about the shortfall when we pay less Social Security taxes into the system?

The way I see it, there can be no shortfall if there is nothing to begin with. Something’s got to give, people. No money, no spendy. That’s how it works in our house. And it hurts.

Telling the truth is another house rule. Sometimes that hurts too. There will be no Social Security for Gen X, and probably not for all the Boomers either. This isn’t a surprise. The emperor has had no clothes for quite some time.

I bet we could think up a hundred more ideas like this to save money. It’s time to talk truth, cut our losses, stop spending, and get creative to rebuild the wealth.

For we brought nothing into the world, and we can take nothing out of it. 1 Timothy 6:7 NIV

Dear Mr. President, Mr. Speaker, and members of Congress, Honesty is mostly what I need from you.

Death of a Television: Six Months Without the Tube

One afternoon our television quit working.

It was alive and chattering the day before. But that afternoon it wouldn’t click on. Wouldn’t speak to the satellite or dance with the DVD player. It had expired during the night, never to be heard from again.

remotes at rest

That TV was a monolithic dinosaur of technology and size. Ancient at only five years old. As rigor mortis set in, it became apparent a proper burial would not be easy.

Time of death occurred when my husband was out of town on business. The most interesting things happen when he’s not here. No way was I hauling that carcass to the dumpster alone.

So guess what happened when he came home? Ladies, you know the answer to this one. The TV remained exactly where it died for the next six months.

I have to explain. As you know, our house is for sale. The TV made for good staging. Prospective buyers didn’t know it was dead. They just thought it was off.

The perils of the housing market left us unsure we could afford another TV. Turns out, replacing it immediately was one of the best things we didn’t do.

The first few weeks were tough. Withdrawal and separation anxiety raged.

hobby in waiting

We pouted when we couldn’t watch Dinosaur Train or the new Ken Burns special or Top Chef. I agonized how I would occupy my child for the entire two hours after school and before dinner.

Gradually, incomprehensibly, we stopped missing it. I’d like to say we started some fantastic hobby like oil painting or guitar. Those are still on the list of things we’d like to do someday.

What we did when the TV died was simply live. We survived to tell the tale. It is possible to live in America today without a television.

Don’t get me wrong. I was raised on TV. It was always on in our house, a constant whirring of background noise. We do enjoy a good movie or show. And when we absolutely have to get something done child-free, our son’s favorite DVD comes in handy.

the new slim shady

So after six months of watching movies on a 13-inch laptop screen, we decided it was safe to replace the television.

The new TV is smaller and slimmer than its predecessor. Light enough to pick up and throw out the window if it misbehaves.

We watch our selected shows or movies and turn it off. We have mastered it, at least for now.

Don’t you know that when you offer yourselves to someone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one you obey—whether you are slaves to sin, which leads to death, or to obedience, which leads to righteousness? Romans 6:16 NIV

Enjoy the very first video played on MTV, Video Killed the Radio Star by The Buggles. Still campy and still a blast.

Perestroika at 35,000 Feet

my new friend

“It’s hard living between airplanes,” said the stranger sitting next to me.

I had the window seat. He had the middle. No one had the end seat, but he didn’t move. He reached out with conversation.

“Do you live in Charlotte?” he said.

“No, I used to live in North Carolina. I’m just visiting this trip.”

“Do you know the university in North Carolina?” he said.

“UNC-Charlotte?” I said.

“I don’t know what it’s called,” he said. “I can go there for my graduate degree.”

“There are a lot of good schools in North Carolina,” I said. “What will you study?”

The stranger introduced himself. Said he was studying recreational therapy in Illinois. Hoped to do graduate work so he could train other therapists in Saudi Arabia. Recreational therapists are in demand there, even more so instructors to train them.

Before school, he’d organized conferences to educate Saudi companies about the internet. Showed me pictures of the events on his iPhone. Seemed impressed I have a blog. The flight attendant gave us dirty looks.

Showed me pictures of his two little boys and his beautiful wife. Said her name means scent of flowers.

He’d left them in Saudi Arabia to come to the United States to study. Left his former work to pursue American degrees that would give him job security as an instructor in his own country. He missed his family and would travel more than 20 hours on four flights to see them.

blind freedom

“Dubai is not just a city,” he said as we looked at his vacation pictures.

“Forgive me, but are those Christmas trees in the hotel lobby?” I said.

“Yes,” he said.

“Isn’t Dubai in a Muslim country?” I said. “They have Christmas trees?”

“You have your beliefs. We have ours. No reason to fight about them,” he said. “The vacationers come for Christmas holiday.”

My new friend may be Saudi, but that sure sounded American.

He showed me apps to get free phone calls, text messaging, and voice reminders. Then more free apps to book flights or turn my iPhone into a flashlight or a piano. The refreshment cart passed us by.

He’s learning English. The writing comes hard. His iPhone is full of SAT and GRE vocab apps. We played them with abandon. Well, I played.

“You are so fast at these word games!” he said.

“I’ve been learning English all my life,” I said. “You’ll get it.”

“You know Mubarak?” he said. “The guy in Egypt?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Obama’s advisors called Mubarak because he’s won so many ‘elections’ in Egypt. They wanted him to help with the next election here.”

“Okay,” I said now hooked.

“Mubarak agreed to let his advisors work on the election here,” he said. “After it was over, Obama called Mubarak and cursed him. Mubarak asked Obama what was wrong. Obama cursed him more. So Mubarak told Obama to put Mubarak’s advisors on the phone.”

“And?” I said.

“Mubarak’s advisors were so happy. They said to Mubarak, ‘We won! We won! Congratulations, Mr. President!'”

Cheers to my new friend, wherever you are.

For the Lord is high above the nations;
His glory is higher than the heavens. Psalm 113:4 NLT

long may she wave

Perestroika is Russian for restructuring.

Dear sweet 1984, we didn’t know the Cold War years were the good old days. Thanks for leaving us 99 Luftballoons by Nena.

Saudis in America

While writing this post I watched Saudis in America, a short documentary by Saudi filmmaker Fahmi F. Farahat (2007).

There are no easy answers. Although I disagreed with some opinions expressed in the film, it makes good food for thought. Catch the interview with Farahat on the extras.

Had a Good Mammo Grama, Just as Fine as It Can Be

Recently had my mammogram. I have these cysts my OB/GYN wants to watch, bless her heart.

The tech at the breast health center told me the cysts are harmless fluid-filled sacks embeddedin my fibrous tissue. She said this as she wrenched my flesh into the giant panini maker.

Terrific. My lovelies are small and sagging already. Now they’ll be flat too.

I’m thankful for the screening and relieved for the benign results. I’m also poignantly reminded that some in Washington consider it a drain of resources to screen these harmless cysts. Thank you, Secretary of Health and Human Services Kathleen Sebelius.

These cysts don’t pose a risk to me now. Why waste the money?

Problem is, like some politicians, disease can be random and unpredictable.

Mammograms exist to identify abnormalities early. And early is when you may still have a chance to survive them.

True proponents of life-saving quality healthcare would throw the full force of their support behind preventive technologies. Then they would get to work figuring out how to make them affordable.

But the capitalist option is unfair, whines the left. But the socialist option is evil, whines the right.

Come on, people. Is that the best you can do?

This is America. We invent things here.

Nobody likes President Obama’s healthcare plan except the folks who wrote it. Lord knows no one else read it.

Repeal it already and come up with something better.

Because if there’s one thing I hate more than mammograms and short-sighted politicians, it’s cancer.

So bring on the pokers, the prodders, the scans. The cultures, the ultrasounds and the mammograms. I’ll pay for them out of my own pocket if I must.

But don’t stand in the way of the tests and treatments that could save my life. Don’t ration, diminish and dumb down my care.

Battered as it may be, and in some places flattened, the length of my life is not for any government to decide.

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139:16 NIV

Thanks to Carl Carlton whose 1981 hit She’s a Bad Mama Jama inspired the title. Click here to listen on YouTube and start your weekend dancing.

 

All I Really Need to Know About Terrorism I Learned in Kindergarten

Try explaining terrorism to a six-year-old.

swing high

The topic comes up occasionally with my son. He knows some bad men flew planes into buildings and the buildings fell down killings lots of people.

He asks me if the men who did this went to jail. No, I say. They died when they crashed the planes.

He wants to see the octagon in Washington, D.C. Likes to watch the news. Sees how the people in Cairo stood up to a dictator.

I tell him how blessed we are to live in America where we can think, speak and worship as we see fit. I tell him religious freedom is why the pilgrims came to America in the first place.

I tell him how in some countries people can be thrown in jail or even killed for disagreeing with their governments or believing in Christ. How the men who crashed the planes wanted to kill Americans.

People like them who try to scare and hurt us, they are the terrorists.

My kindergartner has some suggestions.

“Let’s put up signs everywhere that say ‘NO TERRORISTS ALLOWED,’ and tell the soldiers to shoot the terrorists if they see them.”

I like it. When can we get started?

He designs a crab pit to trap the terrorists. “They would be eaten by the crabs?”

“No,” he says. “The crabs would pinch them.”

I doubt pinching by crabs will withstand the Third and Fourth Geneva Convention rules against torture, but I’m not telling him that.

en garde, stranger

Then there are the war games. To a little boy, every stick is a weapon and every bad guy is a target.

He loves soldiers, tanks, fighter jets and aircraft carriers. He wants to be a warrior, a knight and a jedi. Wants to save the puppies, the kittens, the wild animals, the babies and the people.

That, my friends, is the American way.

Call it hawkish if you want. Call it naïve.

But there is nothing wrong with being the good guys.

Nothing wrong with standing for freedom and protecting the weak. Nothing wrong with knocking the daylights out of evil and terror.

In the words of former Rep. Pete Hoekstra (R-Mich.), being lucky can’t be our national security strategy.

You who  love the LORD, hate evil! He protects the lives of His godly people and rescues them from the power of the wicked. Psalm 97:10 NLT

This post is dedicated to all those who work to protect our country.

Thanks to Robert Fulghum. His New York Times bestseller All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten gave me the idea for title.