What is WRONG with you people????

Is it unkind to wonder if people arrived here on this earth with a brain??? Or perhaps to think that while they may have indeed arrived with it and that somehow through the processes of life, the brain slipped out or was gambled away on a 50-1 long shot at the racetrack?

I was riding my bike to the store. Not a particularly unusual occurrence considering gas prices and my desperate need to exercise. Unless the sight of someone on a bike compels you to laugh so much you snort your Pepsi up your nose and ram your truck into the ditch.

Paying attention not only to the rhythm of my pedaling, I am watching, in all the ways they teach in Driver's Ed, for other people on the road. Glancing from side to side in the sweeping motion to check for oncoming traffic isn't enough on a bike.

I also have to take a quick squint over the shoulder now and again to make certain that the evil people that are tailgating my bike in the Chevy Big Block, jacked up, converted 4x4 redneck special aren't planning me as the next target for 'Deathrace 2000'. But I know that they are. I can feel their wicked presence.

They are laughing.

I can hear them Laughing because their windows are down and my bike has no windows to roll up.

Because the weather is warm and fishing season is upon us, they are also hauling a fishing boat, or an unreasonable facsimile of said boat, on a trailer behind them.

Now, as added fun in the game of traffic terror, they have begun deliberately fishtailing the trailer so that when they make their 'come from behind' move to pass me for the thrill of the invisible checkered flag, or to watch me and my bike get flipped without knocking off my shoes, they score extra points in the game.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!!

NOW I AM UP ON THE SIDEWALK!! I AM COMPLETELY OUT OF YOU LOONY TUNES' WAY!! AND THEY KEEP COMING!!! HOLY MOSES AND ALL OF THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL!

They are edging up to the side of the road like the sidewalk won't stop them. And I am scared for my literal life.

I pulled over into the grass in the front yard of people I don't know while the 'General Lee' horn sounded and their raucous hoots echoed as they headed down the road to the Elk River. Carefully stuffing my pounding heart back into my chest, I resumed my ride to the store for milk and a graduation gift.

The pure evil part of me thinks that I hope their boat leaks like a sieve and none of them can swim. They have scared about ten years off of my life and I'm not so sure I had the ten years to offer them.

Losers!

But the kindly and reasonably decent part of me doesn't really want them to drown.

Not really.

Because I'm quite sure their nasty and evil selves would poison all the fish.

Happy trails on the streets and highways near you. And remember that being a jerk isn't about your address, but your attitude!

Safe Motoring!

Sell your "Old Gold"

"I went on a vacation with the money I got selling my old gold jewelry!"

"I paid bills with the money I made selling my old scrap dental gold!"

Yeah. Uh-huh.

I have so much old and forgotten gold wadded up in a drawer somewhere that I can send it away for pennies on the dollar and make enough to pay bills, take a vacation and apparently to develop amnesia.

If you discover you have a drawer full of gold, why are you selling it to a refinery for pennies on the dollar when every town and hamlet of respectable size has at least one pawn shop where you could do a little bit better on the price plus you would know the person behind the transaction.

What if they just TAKE your 'old gold' and never send you anything? They can tell you your payment 'must have been lost in the mail'. Oh sure! That's the oldest running gag in the business -the old 'check is in the mail' routine.

And who is it that has SO much of this wadded up gold jewelry or has yanked out all of that latest dental work or gold tooth implant just so that they can afford a vacation? I don't believe I have enough to liquidate my assets and convert it all into a hot dog, much less hundreds of dollars for a vacation!

So who are these dupes who have a jewelry store of personal treasure so worthless to them that they are willing to melt it all down for a refinery recovery fee and take a trip to someplace exotic like the brickyard or the city dump? One wonders if sentiment doesn't ever enter into their thinking. Or chewing ability either.

I have several pieces of good but costume jewelry that have been given to me over the years. The sentiment of who gave it to me and why means more than the 3-cent check I would receive for turning it into scrap metal for sales purposes.

I may not have a whole lot of imagination, but I can fairly see Aunt Maude on spin-cycle in her grave to see her jade and gold brooch being melted down for that trip to Mentone before ski season is over. Yeah, I know, that was funny just typing it. Skiing in Mentone makes almost as much sense as melting down family heirlooms to pay for your lift ticket. Oops. My mistake! They don't have a lift at Mentone.

If you are that deeply burdened by drawers and drawers filled with a lifetime's accumulated treasure that it requires the services of some TV pitchman hawking a 'secure envelope' in which you can load up your goods, I'm thinking you are over-burdened with something far weightier than the gold.

I am suggesting that you are hampered more by stupidity than by the chunks of ore littering your lingerie drawer.

Don't you NEED some teeth to eat with when the banquet of life begins? Or have we begun the grave robbing in a peremptory strike to snatch old Elmer's molars BEFORE he's dead and between commercial breaks so we don't miss that all important toll-free number when the unctuous carny hypnotist appears to inform us what we should all do in order to get our cash envelope?

How strange we are.

What was received with joy and gladness one day becomes an albatross that must be shed in order to have the happiness illustrated on the television commercial.
Unload your Grannie's teeth and take that trip to Guadalajara.

Oops. My bad. With Swine Flu, a.k.a. H1N1 virus, raging south of the border, you might want to use your new found wealth instead to treat yourself to a spree at a good old Southern casino in Tunica. After all, a bright person like you is sure to hit it big and double your teeth, uh, MONEY, in no time at all!

Sadly, this must come to an end as the laundry buzzer is calling me.

But remember that you, too, can become rich beyond the dreams of avarice by simple selling your old and unwanted gold today! Get up! Make the call! Rush and do it now! Otherwise they may pay even less tomorrow...

I'm A Fan

Although I am not generally slow on the uptake, today is just one of those days. I noticed while awaiting my next move on Facebook's Scrabble application that the right side of the screen was littered with invitations to 'join' a fan group for whatever the cause du jour happened to tout.

One particularly struck me as somewhat odd.

The headline boldly declared Become A Fan of Jesus.

Hmmm.

A fan.

The word itself doesn't add up to what I have in my heart and mind as a hopeful, but imperfect FOLLOWER of Jesus Christ. I don't want to just be a fan...I hope to someday be counted worthy as a friend.

Fan is an abbreviated rendering of the word 'fanatic'. To be fanatical about someone or something isn't a religious experience. We laugh and kid about football and NASCAR being the accepted religions south of the Mason-Dixon line, but the feelings of awe and reverence aren't generally widespread at the 50 yard line in Tuscaloosa or in a bump and run move leading up to the final lap at Darlington.

So how is being a FAN of Jesus applicable here? While I honor Him as my Savior and Redeemer, can I make Him and His Atonement be so common? How can I befriend Him if my actions are over the top and unworthy of His presence?

I can honestly say that I am a fan of many things:

Oreo cookies with dunking milk late in the evening with confidential chit chat about things that can only be discussed over the creamy white, lickable filling of a freshly opened Oreo.

I'm a fan of sitting out on a night filled with the glowing, yellowy embered lights of fireflies lighting up the darkness in a Morse code known only to them and God alone.

I'm a fan of common sense, which apparently isn't all that common anymore.

I'm a fan of teaching limits to children and adults so that their behaviors are a credit to them as individuals instead of a liability on society.

I'm a fan of old television programs that didn't assault the senses with vulgarity and profane speech that renders the ears and soul seared and wounded.

I'm a fan of laughter that bubbles up from a happy heart and soul to warm everyone who hears it.

I'm a fan of family and the joy that family brings regardless of the age or place.

I'm a fan of living life to its fullest, 'warts and all' as my Daddy says, because if you aren't putting all you have into this one go 'round, it's such a waste. Like the t-shirt proudly worn by a gal with whom Thomas participated in marching band: "GO BIG OR GO HOME!"

I'm a fan of friendship held closely, emotions felt deeply and hearts that are still open to chance despite bearing a few scars from not so pleasant encounters in life that have hurt enough to make us cautious.

I'm a fan.

Honestly, I believe that being a fan of something, anything, sort of puts a burden on us, too. If we really are a fan, there is a responsibility to act in a way that lets other people know how we feel, but I believe it is only worth it if how you act and feel is good.

Contrarily, it can be a weight that drags us down instead of a balloon of joy that can lift us up.

It all boils down to how that special 'energy' is spent. Where we place our allegiance and to what end we will achieve that energetic expenditure.

I believe we have to say what it is we are standing up for and show people why it is a good thing for us. Otherwise, it's misplaced fanaticism and that's nothing but trouble any way you spell it.

It's just not enough saying, "I'm a fan".

Who decides?

I am on a rant right now that I don't plan to abandon any time soon.

That our educational system is morally bankrupt at times shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone.

That we have educators, administrators and support staff who recognize the brokenness and do all within their power to either fix it or work around it should be heralded from the rooftops with trumpets and accolades of joy.

But our problem lies with the fact that too many people at the top of the food chain have lived with the status quo for so long, that they have forgotten that every single child matters.

I only have one question and it fits a multitude of sins:

WHO DECIDES?

Who decides that a local, hardworking and slightly harried administrator deserves to be 'punished' in his stats because the PARENTS of a child don't care? What happened to parental accountability?

Who decides that "No Child Left Behind" only matters for the money, but not for the performance?

Who decides that one group of people don't count, don't matter and don't deserve the opportunity to celebrate their achievement - even if it is different than what is achieved by another?

Our nation was built with some pretty great ideas at the foundation. Among them life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

We are free to pursue our happiness in just about any way, so long as our pursuit doesn't infringe upon anothers' opportunity to do the same.

But there is infringement happening in our state on a grand scale. And it is sanctioned by those at the top.

If you are not 'bright enough' to be in regular ed or advanced courses, you don't count, except for knocking down money into the bank account.

I found that out the other day. So I wrote a letter to anyone and everyone I could possibly think of who might be able to change this 'decision' and make it possible for everyone to matter, even if it requires change of direction and attitudes to accomplish the task.

Herein is the text of the letter I sent to the various people I believe can get in this fight and make a difference:

During my son's I.E.P. today, we began to discuss plans for his upcoming high school graduation in 2011. Because my son, Jared, is a special needs
student, he will NOT receive a diploma, but instead, a certificate. Because he will receive said certificate, we were told that this counts for the school as a DROPOUT instead of being counted as a graduate for himself and his school!

Our son is NOT a dropout! He has been in school since he was 3 years old working as hard as he is able to develop the skills to be able to use a computer and an assistive communications device to better improve his quality of life and his ability to communicate with family, teachers and friends.

By giving a certificate that is counted as worthless to the State Department of Education, you are being totally discriminatory and negate all of Jared's hard work to achieve what he is able to do!!

That is unconscionable!

I don't see the State Department of Education nor the local city and county School Board's shying away from counting our Special Needs student population as regular students when it comes to getting the money from the Federal Government or from tax appropriations. Yet, when it comes to counting the work that our son (and thousands like him) have put into obtaining WHATEVER level of educational achievement they have most assuredly EARNED, you make light of them and skew your own success ratio
by treating them no differently than the quitters who drop out without working to achieve any educational goals whatsoever!

The hypocrisy in your actions is loud and clear.

That you are overworking and overburdening the classroom teachers to provide volumes of paperwork to show that these Special Needs Students are working satisfy the requirements for Alternate Assessments and No Child Left Behind standards is a mockery of the work they COULD and SHOULD be doing to help our precious children! Because of the continuously shifting standards that are thrust upon these Special Needs Students, the teachers are continuously going out during their breaks from school to receive further training to find ways to make the most of what academic
instructional time is left to them after all of the paperwork is done! But
instead of recognizing the students for their abilities, your department has made a conscious decision to marginalize and penalize them as if they don't matter at all!

While I understand that an academic diploma that is for standard or advanced academic work is not appropriate for the special needs students, I do NOT understand why an academic diploma designated for Special Needs Coursework isn't issued for our students!! They do far more than just attend school! These children are not being 'warehoused' nor are they being 'babysat' while they are in school.

The handicapped members of our communities start school at age three and are eligible to participate through age 21, where appropriate. While you may know that on some level, you lack understanding about just what goes on in their daily schedule. They have dedicated and loving teachers and classroom aides who are doing everything they can to see that each child, regardless of disability, has an opportunity to gain a measure of progress over each academic year.

They have to work a hundred times longer to complete the standards set for them. What takes another "normal" student a few repetitions to learn takes our special needs students thousands of repetitions to achieve mastery. Yet, instead of offering a real diploma which matters based upon THEIR curriculum, they are shuffled off to the side and labeled, recorded and filed away as dropouts!

Sir, I submit that the Board of Education is acting in both a biased and a
discriminatory fashion towards those students who are, due to circumstances beyond their control, receiving a certificate or an occupational diploma that doesn't recognize the specialized curriculum nor the work that they have completed.

Your primary concern should be making each student truly count for more than the money that they mean to the state budget and instead start seeing them as the individuals that they truly are.

It's far past the time to re-evaluate the way that the State treats the students who are in the Special Needs programs! And it's also past time to make better choices regarding how we "count" our special needs students.

We pay your salary through our tax dollars. Our children deserve your best on this issue and to be treated with respect for what they CAN do instead of being treated and recorded as dropouts who have accomplished nothing during their tenure in school!

I will be more than happy to discuss this matter further with you and any members of your oversight committee to effect real change on this critical issue as soon as possible. My son Jared, and indeed EVERY special needs student, deserves nothing less.

Today, I have spent time on the phone talking to people at the U.S. Department of Education, the State Department of Education and one of the local high school principals.

To his everlasting credit, the Principal, Mr. Bolin, not only was supportive, but totally understanding of my position in the letter. He agreed that there should be change. He also indicated that he will pursue this matter and see if there isn't something that we can do to make a change in policy.

Sadly, the talking heads in D.C. act like it isn't their problem at all. I let the jerkwad on the phone know that if he doesn't have a handicapped child whom this affects, that his platitudes on how he 'understands' aren't worth much. His backtracking let me know in a hurry that he was like most people in D.C. - a walking sack of elected or appointed manure that is so far removed from the farm that they have no idea what it's like out here in the 'real world'.

Like most issues, this one is a hot button for me simply because we have a child within the walls of our home whom it directly affects. But whether I have experienced a problem or simply see it, if I do nothing to better the circumstances of my fellow beings on this planet, I can't see that I'm much better than that walking sack of manure myself.

Do we really have to experience EVERYTHING in order for anything to matter to us?

Have we become that narrowed in our focus such that only our personal gravitas matters?

Who decides what is important if not those of us who live it?

We cannot expect outside forces to sweep in to our rescue if they never hear our plea for assistance. That removes our personal responsibility to cry out in our distress as if we lack the ability.

I love the scriptural admonition to cry unto the Lord in our distresses. It's an example of how to get things done.

Whether the burden is made lighter, easier to bear or totally removed isn't always our choice, but if we never ask for help at all, we struggle with our personal trials all alone like a sad martyr for an unknown cause.

I think the burden of proof is upon us.

Whether we have someone in our immediate or extended family or simply know of the struggle of another, we are the ones who decide how and when to offer them what succor they stand in need of until more able help can arrive.

And who is to say that we, acting in the will of Our Father, may not indeed be the help that was intended all along?

Who decides?

We do.