Politely Rebeling

   As you know from my earlier rants, we have a street or two undergoing construction in my town. There are a couple of intersections I go through daily, that have flashing red lights on either side. Every one knows, or should know, a flashing red light means stop and wait your turn. I have had many instances lately, when the vehicle on the other side did not stop, but rolled on through like they were special. Some try to sneak by, while no one is looking and others just don't care.
Today I was sitting at this flashing light, like a good American, when someone decided to sneak on through. I had to control myself and not honk the horn, stomp my feet and, while waving my fist in the air, scream "it's not your turn." Then, it occurred to me, I have become that kid who takes names while the teacher is out of the room. I'm an adult Hall Monitor!
 I haven't always been like this. I was once a rebel. That is, if you define a rebel as someone who chews gum in class. OK, I'm not being completely honest. I didn't chew gum in class, but I never told on anyone for doing so.
 Now that I think about it, I have turned into a boring, law abiding citizen. I try to turn library books in on time, you don't have to post a sign to keep me off your grass, and if I had a baby, I would carry a dirty diaper twenty miles to the next trash can before, I would ever consider, leaving it in a Walmart parking lot for some poor unsuspecting soul to step on. While on that subject, I also, always return my shopping cart to the designated shopping cart drop off.
  Occasionally, Jon and I buy groceries together. After our cart is full or overflowing, he will push it into the 20 items or less check out, and I just want to hide. Fortunately, the cashiers never say anything and, I guess it's better than when he wants to go through the self check with three bottles of wine and a package of model airplane glue. Why can't we just follow the rules?

Courageous

 So, yesterday, I finally watched Courageous. So many people had recommended this movie to me, and it was really good. However, these well meaning people neglected to tell me the little girl dies. I cried all the way through the movie and most of the rest of the day. Like my niece, Katie, told me once, "I cried till I had a headache."
 Courageous is a very good movie, with great insight on what makes a father and how generation after generation, has suffered from their lack. But it's tough to watch.
 I know loosing a child is the hardest thing a person will experience. If you disagree, ask yourself why God gave his son to atone for our sins. We're pretty bad people, so it was going to take a pretty big sacrifice. He didn't send his mother, aunt Betsy or cousin Burt. He sent His heart. Our children are our hearts. Though I didn't know what I was saying at the time, I recall telling the doctor, who had delivered the terrible news, Lauren could not be dead. She was my heart and my heart was still beating.
 God knew, even if  you had never had a child of your own, you would understand the depth of his love by his sacrifice. You had once been a child who either loved a father or longed for one. He knows our hearts, because we are His heart.

Drama In Our Town

 I haven't written in a while, not much to say, not much happening. I guess that's a good thing.
 One thing that happened, though, my husband Jon, was out Saturday morning taking pictures and drove by our old house out in the country. He said the police had the exit from the highway leading to the old place blocked off and there was a SWAT team around the house. He thought, from the lights on the small structures they had built out back, they might have gotten caught growing weed. I was certain those structures were for chickens and they were likely having cock fights. Both illegal, but only one would be hard to stomach. It turns out, we were both wrong and it was only some guy waving a gun and making threats.
 The craziest thing about this story is, our little town has a SWAT team. Of course, I think it's a "volunteer" SWAT team. There are eight members and seven are named Carl. They practice on Saturday morning by hunting down and shooting prairie dogs.
 I feel much safer just knowing they are out there. Thanks Carls.

Football and Sociopaths

 I'm trying not to use the word hate so much to describe my feelings. I believe the word has lost it's true meaning from overuse. Kind of like literally. People say literally so often when they actually mean figuratively. I worked with a lady once who, every day before lunch,  said, "I'm literally starving to death". I always wanted to call 911 or start an intervention and make her eat something.
  I say all this, to hopefully express my deep dislike of football. I know you must be thinking  "Oh she's one of those girlie girls who just never watched football enough to know anything about it". You are wrong. I have 6 older brothers and I have watched more than my share and was even a fan at one time.
  I am of the opinion, that football brings out the worst in men. It is a brutal, barbaric sport that alters lives. The big and fast think it is their salvation. They hope for a scholarship and then a contract. When it doesn't happen, they relive that big game and never get over it. They learn to bully the smaller boys and some of them never get over it.
 Tonight is the Super Bowl. All that means to me is, football season is finally over and we are only 2 months away from Baseball season! The only reason to watch the Super Bowl is, the commercials and halftime show. This year, the halftime show will be done by Madonna. If there is anything I like less than football, it is Madonna. I would rather see a high school marching band perform at halftime than Madonna. I think I can actually use the word Hate to describe how I feel about her music.

The Zombie Apocalypse

 For the second time, the construction crew that is ruining my morning drive, has cut a fiber optic cable, practically paralyzing this city, and certainly making a simple work day an unending Hell. This present day "run on the bank" makes the '29 stock market crash look like a day at the beach. People loose their minds over out of service ATMs and believe it is their right to scream obscenities at 19 year old part time tellers. These 19 year old part timers are like my kids. I may get put out with them, but you had better leave them alone.
  Although I love the sound of a phone not ringing, I also feel cut off from society. I don't know what to do if  I can't check my email forty times a day, and though I don't spend much time on Facebook, I like knowing it's there.
  It frightens me to see the glazed look in every ones eyes. The children walking around with limp thumbs,unable to text, and being forced to actually speak, is alarming.
 How can this road crew, these cruel careless bastards, expect us to survive without our technology. We are Human Beings... sort of, and we will not stand for this!