No Respect

 

No Respect

Rodney Dangerfield used the line, “I don’t get no respect.” It is unfortunately sad but true, that today some people have no respect for cemeteries, memorials, and the Stars and Stripes of the American flag. I saw a photo of the Vietnam Memorial where it had been defaced with spray paint from a graffiti pervert. I’ve seen photos of cemeteries where warped-minded people have driven vehicles through them damaging the grounds and the headstones of loved ones who have passed on. Almost daily, I see and hear of reports where the American flag is trod upon or burned.

What is wrong with these people? They may not like America, but that is no reason to try to destroy a country that allows them to voice their dissent. There is no reason to desecrate the resting place of people who have worked hard all of their lives to provide a system where even indigent folk have a chance to live above the rest of the world’s poverty level. There is no reason to deface the memorial of brave men and women who fought in a war that their government has said they must. You may not agree that there was a just cause for the fighting, but those heroes fought because they were asked to do so.

America has asked her citizens to fight for freedom since its inception. The wars have claimed many lives and that in itself is sad, but the fact that some people ignore and denigrate those lives which were lost are the lowest type of people and should have no right to a claim to be Americans. Rights are not earned by being responsible. They are guaranteed by the Constitution of the United States. Unfortunately, our rights are being ignored and eroded every day.

This year we celebrate two hundred and fifty years of the birthday of our independence and the establishment of our nation. We should be proud of that fact and proud that we are free and still have those God given rights.

What Is It

 

What Is It

I’m trying to understand what’s going on with my body. Small changes are creeping in. Over the past week or so, my balance has ben off just a bit. It’s not anything major, but I must be a little more careful with walking, turning, and leaning over. I don’t feel as stable on my feet recently.

Yesterday aching in my joints have become more pronounced. My knees and hips have decided to hurt evem when not being used. I find that even sitting in a chair I may need to reposition myself to relieve the deep aching in my hips especially. I’ve been trying to believe that it’s a part of aging, but I am beginning to doubt that.

I almost lost my balance reaching for something and had to catch myself to prevent a fall I jammed my deformed “arthritic” finger into a wooden cupboard. That intensified the usual ache in my pinky finger to a much higher level.

Last night I had a serial dream. I know that I woke several times to reposition my aching joints, but fell back to sleep only to dream again. The dream was odd, not just because it was a long-running dream, but also because it was vivid and I couldn’t remember much about it. I can recall the color green and the feeling that I was being tossed and buffeted. What was the cause of the turmoil, I have no idea, but waking this morning my muscles ached. The muscles that ached weren’t just my arms and legs as if I had done a long day’s work, but even the muscles across my belly.

About a month ago I started to take a trial medication. Because of my history of cardiac problems, the nurse who is responsible for the trial studies thought I might be a good candidate for this study. Now I’m trying to sort out if my aching joints, my muscle pain, and the disequilibrium are the side effects of the medication or whether something else is happening.

I’ll call my nurse handler later today to see if I should continue with the trial or stop taking the medications.

What Is It

What Is It
I’m trying to understand what’s going on with my body. Small changes are creeping in. Over the past week or so, my balance has ben off just a bit. It’s not anything major, but I must be a little more careful with walking, turning, and leaning over. I don’t feel as stable on my feet recently.
Yesterday aching in my joints have become more pronounced. My knees and hips have decided to hurt even when not being used. I find that even sitting in a chair I may need to reposition myself to relieve the deep aching in my hips especially. I’ve been trying to believe that It’s a part of aging, but I am beginning to doubt that.
I almost lost my balance reaching for something and had to catch myself to prevent a fall I jammed my deformed “arthritic” finger into a wooden cupboard. That intensified the usual ache in my pinky finger to a much higher level.
Last night I had a serial dream. I know that I woke several times to reposition my aching joints, but fell back to sleep only to dream again. The dream was odd, not just because it was a long-running dream, but also because it was vivid but I can’t remember much about it. I can recall the color green and the feeling that I was being tossed and buffeted. What was the cause of the turmoil, I have no idea, but waking this morning my muscles ached. The muscles that ached weren’t just my arms and legs as if I had done a long day’s work, but even the muscles across my belly.
About a month ago I started to take a trial medication. Because of my history of cardiac problems, the nurse who is responsible for the trial studies thought I might be a good candidate for this study. Now I’m trying to sort out if my aching joints, my muscle pain, and the disequilibrium are the side effects of the medication or whether something else is happening.

I’ll call my nurse handler later today to see if I should continue with the trial or stop taking the medications. 

Everyday Patriots

 Everyday Patriots

We run into everyday patriots everywhere. They surround us: when we shop, when we go out to eat, or when we go to church. These people are for the most part go about their business everyday without thought of the important ideals they uphold. From farmers to food service workers, from truckers to teachers, from healthcare workers to hairdressers; all contribute to the fabric of society. We literally bump into them as we go to work, come home from work, and when we go on vacation. We may meet them because we have problems. If we need someone to repair a leaky roof or a leaky faucet, we can find them. In times of disaster or extreme weather conditions, we have utility linesmen, we have those who drive the snow plow trucks, and we have the National Guards. If we need emergency care they come to us: firemen, police, ambulance drivers, and paramedics. These men and women work, earn money, pay taxes, and create a stable environment. They form a national entity, a form of government, a national language, and core values that hold us as a country together.

An everyday patriot may be a farmer who daily works his farm, the postman who faithfully delivers the mail, the person who delivers fresh bread to the grocery store, the person who provides the produce at a roadside stand, or stocks the snacks in our minimarts. They are the folks who grease the gears and keep the cogs engaged that supply our daily needs. They are the checkout cashiers. They are the men and women who fill the shelves. They may be the butchers, the bakers, and the candlestick makers. They could be our vehicle’s mechanics. They could be the janitors who clean the schools or job sites. They could be mothers, grandmothers, fathers, or grandfathers. They can be the people who we meet on the streets walking their dogs.

These everyday patriots are not superheroes in bold costumes, they are everyday patriots. They work, vote, raise their families, and make a community. They can be neighbors, workmates, and even strangers who do some kind deed or show a courtesy. They do their best to create a better world and share it with others. So I say, hooray to our everyday patriots and heroes. May God continue to bless their daily efforts to keep America strong and independent.

Gone

 

Gone

I saw a post showing an aisle in a variety store lined with boxes stacked upon boxes of plastic model boats, planes, and cars. In most stores today, I am lucky to see one small shelf in the huge toy section that has a smattering of these onetime glorious representations of the real things. Gone are the enamel paints and the plastic glue that gave a person a buzz if inhaled for a long periods of time. The selection that remains today is so limited, it barely stirs the imagination of a boy or girl to spend their money for the model.

At one time there was a penny candy counter at the front of almost every country Mom and Pop store. Its wide glass-faced case was often smeared by the noses of children peering inside, trying to decide what to buy with their penny or nickel. The storekeeper would reach into the cavern below and withdraw a small, brown paper sack. A practiced flick of the wrist and it opened, waiting to be filled with the child’s choices. Peppermint sticks, licorice whips, wax lips, candy cigarettes, gum balls, fire balls, chewy caramels, Black Jack, and various suckers with colors that enticed through clear cellophane wrappings or were alluring in their brightly hued paper wrappers. A child’s decision became tantalizingly and deliciously sweet. The grocer’s hand moved to hover over the display, waiting for the child’s final choices. If the child had enough money, there were three cent chocolate Lunch Bars that are now history, too. Once selections were made, the little bag was twisted shut and handed to an eagerly awaiting child.

Cap pistols with strips of exploding caps have been all but banned from use today. Using a pointed finger pretending it’s a pistol can get a kid kicked out of school. The innocence of a buss on a cheek can land a boy or girl in trouble if a teacher so deems it. Hot chocolate and slices of buttered toast to start the school day are long gone. Even the wonderful flavorful school lunches have faded into nutritious nothings.

Wood shop, music, art, and home economics have been replaced by forages into climate change and social justice. The Pledge of Allegiance, Bible reading, and a time of prayer have lost their zeal and have fallen into disuse. If a man displays gentlemanly traits like opening a door for a female, often they are scourged.

Writing letters and post cards have lost their appeal, giving way to selfies, texts, and e-mails. At least greeting cards still hold some importance, although e-cards are making an inroad on that once popular more permanent method of showing that you care.

Blessings Served Cold

 

Blessings Served Cold

The last two cold snaps wear me down. I dislike cold weather more and more as I age. Speaking of age, I just found out that I was trying to make myself a year older. I claimed that I was 77 instead of 76. I guess my mental facilities are slipping. But I will catch up this year in March when I become 77.

It has been my habit ever since I married and had children to keep my driveway open in case of an emergency. So, even as I have aged, I have continued to shovel the snow out of my driveway. I really enjoy the quiet time with the snow silently falling around me. The snow is usually easily removed, even the wetter and heavier. Because of the direction of the wind, snow blows into road and the snowplows clear the drifts and fill the end of my driveway, often three feet deep and about eight feet wide. They solidly pack the ice and snow. It doubles the amount of work for me.

Twice I’ve been blessed to have someone stop, taking pity on me and plow that snow plug out of my drive. The first was several days ago. The guy slowed, cranked down his truck window, and asked if he could help. I had barely started to clear the drive and was thrilled to have someone volunteer to help. In about five minutes, my drive was widened and completely cleared. He refused any payment, saying his boss told him to drive around and look for people who needed their driveways cleaned.

This past Saturday I was out early shoveling a three inch layer of snow and the taller layer of snow at the end of my drive. I spent half an hour outside. The gusts of icy cold wind made my eyeballs feel like they were frozen and my nose poured like a river when I came inside.

Several hours later I looked out my living room window and saw that the snowplows had again plugged the opening of my driveway, 3 feet high deeply pushing it back into my drive. It covered the width of my drive. I felt so discouraged, but knew it needed to get done. Saturday evenings several men from our church gather to pray for each other and for a revival in our church.

Reluctantly I climbed into my heavy clothing to go outside. The wind was still blowing and cold. No sooner did I dig the first scoop before a gentleman in a dark gray truck stopped and asked if he could plow my drive. I was blessed and so thrilled I could have danced. My driveway was cleared and my eyes didn’t have time to freeze.

Places I've Been

 

Places I Have Been

Before my stint in the Navy, the only places that I visited were with my parents. My dad Carl Beck was even more frugal than I am and we spent his vacations visiting relatives. The longest trip was to Florida to visit my aunt and Uncle Helen and Jake Stahl in Orlando. Shorter trips included visiting my aunt and uncle, Cora and Fred Hyatt in Sheridan, Illinois and to see my aunt and uncle, Ina and “Nicky” Nicholson in Millersport, Ohio.

For my time while in service to my country, I started basic training and Naval Corps School at Great Lakes training center in Illinois, spending the winter there. Then I was sent to Orlando, Florida from the chill of the north to the heat of Florida. My next assignment was to Keflavik, Iceland and travelled from the hot humid south to a chilly 60 degree weather.

After taking nursing curiculum at the Fayette campus of Penn State, I was assigned classes at State College, Pennsylvania. After graduating, I found employment at Monsour Hospital then at Frick Hospital. After my marriage to Cindy Morrison, our next trip was to visit her relatives in Jamestown, New York. We also made a short trip into Canada before heading home. Cindy felt ill while we drove home. It was our introduction to parenthood. Cindy was pregnant with our first. Only my craving for greasy hamburgers alerted us to our later two pregnancies, but that’s another story.

Family vacations included Sea World, the Knoxville World’s Fair, a visit to Murfreesboro, Tennessee and to “The Wilds” church camp in North Carolina. The next major trip for me and the family was to “the Wilds of the Rockies.” It was part of the tenting trip out west with seventeen teens, seven adults, touring multiple national parks for seventeen days.

My next major trip was to Newfoundland/ Labrador Canada, driving most of the way then riding a ship to Nain and returning to Newfoundland. A trip to Cottonwood, Arizona for my son Andrew’s wedding to Renee Largent was next. Later my son moved to Amarillo. That was my next long distance travel.

I joined a friend on a trip to Elkins, West Virginia to ride the train to the ghost town of Spruce. I travelled with the same friend across the southern border of Pennsylvania, up the east side, back across the northern counties, finally returning home along the western border of our state. Fifteen days of waterfalls, battlefields, and hotels wore me out. I’ve been pretty much a homebody since then. I’m just wondering it’s time for another escape vacation.