So Taxing

For many years I’ve been concerned with the government at all levels seizing land and raising taxes with little regard to the citizens that the government is supposed to protect and to represent. Their lack of concern for the burden they place on their constituents has been more and more pronounced over the years. Their continued funding of unnecessary and frivolous projects has become almost legendary.  Yet they ignore these glaring failures and continue to throw more money down the same holes or look for more holes to open.

The average citizen doesn’t have the luxury of raising taxes to cover their expenditures. They are forced to curtail spending and budget their money. They have to prioritize their needs and eliminate the waste, the nonessentials, and niceties in their lifestyle. Politicians have no such restraints.

Sunday evening our pastor shared a message from I Kings about the death of Solomon and the installation of Rehoboam as king of Israel. Rehoboam was born just before Solomon became Israel’s king. King Solomon gained power and enjoyed the wealth that his father David had amassed. Rehoboam was raised in a palace with this luxury and wealth surrounding him. An allotment of food prepared for Solomon’s family and followers consisted of 360 pounds of fine flour, 72 pounds of meal, 30 oxen, 100 sheep, besides harts, roebucks, and fattened fowl. This was the daily feasting prepared for them. The people of Israel paid for it. They had also footed the bill for the erection of the temple. This is the opulence that surrounded Rehoboam all of his life was all that he knew.

This is like the political loop of partisanship that infests Washington D.C. today where the money they spend is not theirs and they have no idea of its value. The officials surround themselves with people who have become used to this grandiose lifestyle.

Now, back to Rehoboam; when the citizens came to him and asked that the burden of their taxes be lowered, King Rehoboam asked for 3 days to consider. First, he asked Solomon’s old advisers. They suggested that he lower taxes, ease the burden, and the citizens would serve him. Then, Rehoboam asked the young men who were his companions that grew up with him in Solomon’s court. They advised that he increase the taxes, not lower them. Rehoboam followed his friend’s advice and told the people he would raise the taxes. The people rebelled and divided the country into Judah and Israel.

Tax increases seemed to be a continual plague until recently. I hope that the change will continue and actual budgeting of the taxpayer’s money really occurs.

Isn’t My Dance Card Full Yet

There was a time that ladies carried a small booklet when they attended a dance. It was a time of gentility and decorum. When a gentleman wanted to claim a dance with a certain female, he would ask to sign the book and wait his turn to dance with her. I’m sure that if the lady didn’t want to dance with the man, she would find delicate ways of refusing.

Each week when I look at my schedule, I think, “That doesn’t look too bad” and each week my dance card miraculously becomes full. I only had on my schedule my appointment to have my car inspected and Everdry Company to check out a damp patch of concrete in my basement. Although expensive, they curtailed water entering my basement. There was also the choice to volunteer or not at the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society on Wednesday and Saturday.

Because of my MRI of my right bicep, I called for an appointment with my orthopedist. I was surprised that they got me in on Wednesday morning, but off I went. Finished with that, I stopped for a few groceries and hustled to the Historical Society. A surprise waited for me there. I was volunteered to be the corresponding secretary, although I refused to shave my legs. A library sent a book written by a radio operator from WW II whose plane was shot down over France. It was an autobiography in French and English. He was a local resident and I was asked to write a letter to a daughter to see if she wanted to review the document. While reading newspaper articles on the radio operator, one article popped up onto my computer screen and refuses to be dismissed. I called my computer repair guy and he squeezed me in for Saturday morning before I have to hustle to Chestnut Ridge. I get to be docent for the day.

After I came home, I worked on the letter before eating my evening meal and hurrying off to Prayer meeting. Thursday was free, or so I thought. I’d ordered another cord of firewood and they delivered. She and a friend helped to stack some of it.

Friday, I’m expecting Everdry to evaluate the damp spot. I am supposed to attend a writers meeting in the afternoon, but I may have to skip that. I almost forgot, the friend who delivered the firewood invited me to a cookout at her place after church. I can hardly wait to see what surprises await next week.

Yesterday’s Shadows

 

Yesterday's but a shadow

Remnants whisper from the past.

Memory's echoes that now show

Their presence lingers and lasts.

Sometimes faintly flickering

Or sometimes burning and bright

They still seem to be living

Or in subdued dreamlike light
Tears often wet my pillow

Saddened because of my loss

Feelings left from love's soft glow

Ever elusive emboss.

Past thoughts escape furtively

Often when least expected

Memories seek to be free

Rising to be detected

Recollections set the scene,

A knee-weakening power

With nothing to intervene,

They can strike at any hour.

The past stored as memories

Flickers of bitter and sweet

These hiccoughs cause time to freeze

Until we again can meet.

 

Much Ado About Lots to Do

It was a busy weekend, starting with Friday morning. I was scheduled to have an MRI of my right upper arm. “Arrive half an hour early” was my only instructions. For those who know me, arriving early is a given. I was having an MRI to determine why my right bicep looks like Popeye’s after eating a can of spinach. Anyway, it looks different than my left arm.

MRI stands for Magnetic Resonance Imaging and the person for the test must remove all metal from their body. Clad in oversized scrub greens, I’m led to a chamber holding a narrow cot that is in line with a large mechanical donut. After I am arranged on this bed with my left arm overhead, I’m inserted through the donut hole and the testing is started. Although the music in the headphones is of the 60’s the thrumming of the machine is heard. Long before the test is complete my left shoulder begins to ache from holding its position. My positioning enhanced a pulled muscle in my back. Oh joy.

Saturday, I decide to be a good neighbor and mow his lawn and mine. Four circuits around the nearly 2 acre lot and my mower’s belt pops off. It was my fault entirely, but that doesn’t lessen the problem nor eliminate having to use parts of my aching body. I fiddled with the belt and thinking it was still too loose, I got out my old walk-behind self-propelled mower to finish the long arduous task with my back complaining with every step. My son-in-law Lames stopped and asked if he could look at the mower. He looked under and said the belt was back on the pulleys and looked okay. I was surprised because I’d never put it back on before without disassembling one of the guards like the online video says, but  climbed on, started it and off I rolled spewing grass clippings and waving thanks to James.

Sunday, was the 98th Rugg family reunion. I’ve mentioned that I met my great-grandfather Rugg as he and my great uncle Lincoln sat on the Rugg farm front porch. They were opposites. Curtis was lean while Uncle Lincoln was rotund.

It was great reconnecting with members of the family that are only seen at the reunion once a year. A person needs to know the past roots of their family or that history will be lost. Plans for next year were started and for the 100th reunion, two years away.

Friends From Afar

The morning of the Fourth of July evolved into an unexpected and pleasurable event. It was a culmination of some possibilities, but let me take you back to the foundation of the incidental beginning. I received a friend request on Facebook. There is nothing unusual about that, some days I get six or more friend request from the fisching robots. I always check out their profile before I decide to accept. Usually, if we don’t have common friends, I decline. This request was from a young man living in Illinois and since I have relatives in Illinois, I investigated further.

I found out later that it was from this young man’s friend Daniel who’d sent the request. Daniel sent out multiple requests to a number of people with the same name as us, Tom Beck. I accepted and we began to correspond. Both men were still in college. Tom is interested in history and reenactments of battles from different wars. I know he is involved Civil war, and WW I battles. In corresponding on Facebook, he and his friend Daniel became acquainted with each me, sharing stories, family histories, and some cross currents of genealogy. I’ve followed some of his antics on Facebook and he has read some of mine. This is another connection. My grandmother’s ancestors were DeKalb. Her name was Anna Nickles nee Kalp Beck and several generations back, her forefathers included Baron Johann DeKalb who fought in the Revolutionary War.

A few days ago he and his friend Daniel on the spur of the moment decided to drive from DeKalb, Illinois through my area of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to be in Philadelphia in time to celebrate Independence Day at Independence Hall and see the Liberty Bell. He thought it would be a cool idea to actually meet. I thought so too and told him as long as there weren’t ten people in the car, I’d treat for lunch. I wanted to take them to local restaurant, but it was a holiday. They were closed, so we dined sumptuously at MacDonald’s instead. It was great to meet Tom and Daniel. They were still young and impulsive. It was wonderful to share stories and to listen to their aspirations. So much information was exchanged in such a short time, I don’t understand why people are consumed with texting when face to face is so much more exhilarating and fruitful. I loved meeting you guys. Take care and drive safely.

P.S. They texted me Thursday evening to say they made it safely home.

Sounding Fourth

When I stand quietly and if I’m still

I hear freedom's volley at Bunker Hill.

A new nation rises with growing pains;

Loss of life traded for liberty’s gains.

Brave men unite to cast off tyranny.

Breaking chains so that they might become free.

Thirteen colonies put it to the test

Sharing ideals, choosing only the best.

A Declaration of Independence

Steps they took were radical and immense.

Their challenge to authority meant war.

They wondered if freedom might long endure.

Leaving behind businesses, homes, and farms

Brave patriots heeded the call to arms.

Risking all they had: wealth, health, and life

They joined the battle fray, hardship, and strife.

Fighting to establish each blood-stained right

God-given freedoms ordained to shine bright.

Today let us honor those who were slain

Without honor, how will freedom remain?

Having the Right to Be Wrong

America was established on standards of truth and moral integrity. It was created with the idea that mankind had God-given and inalienable rights. Our forefathers were conscionable men who prized liberty and freedom more than they prized their own lives. Laws and precepts of our new nation were founded on the truths found in the pages of the Bible. These people crossed the ocean to be free of the tyranny of Europe and a chance to begin a new life with religious freedom. Religions in the old world often strayed from the Gospel message written in God’s Word.

Since then, and ever so slowly, our nation has been turning the meaning of freedom on its ear. Truth has become half truths, then outright lies. Morality has lost its meaning and facts have become “follow your heart” mentality.

The Bible says that the heart is a deceitful thing. Following our own desires has led us to a place that Americans were never meant to be. We murder future generations while the children are still in the womb. Premeditated murder is a crime. Our consciences have become calloused and our views on what is right have become warped. Today, police officers are criminalized while lawbreakers are praised. We allow indiscriminant immigration. Without an identifiable culture, language, and border we will cease to be that nation.

We have deemed the truth to be unnecessary, no longer is it be seen as a guiding force. We refuse to maintain it in our national ideals. We have rationalized our wants and wishes and moved them to a place that supersedes the truth. Romans 1:22 says, “Professing themselves to be wise, they become fools.” Many “intelligent” people have their office walls papered with degree after degree and have no common sense. They expect a different outcome just because they have said so.

If there we have no absolute truth, then why do we have laws? Any building erected without a solid foundation will collapse. We have turned our backs on truth and we wander farther and farther away. Each step takes our nation deeper into depravity. Many refuse to hear the truth, but judgment will come. When our foundation has become so decayed, it will collapse. All of our rights and freedoms will have disappeared. Indebtedness and slavery to the government will become the norm.