Some Days, The News Says It All
Evidence that we're off to hell in the usual handbasket:
Cop Goes Nuts, Shoots His Neighbors
Halle Berry Injured on Film Set
Police Dog Severs Suspect's Penis
Two Kinds of People
Lately, I've been noticing a trend in people that I run into. There seem to be two kinds:
1) The kind that is very concerned about their rights, what's due them, what's owed them, and who is and isn't treating them properly. These folks tend to speak often of filing lawsuits to get what they feel they deserve. When they happen upon people who seem to be in a better life situation than them, they think "That should have been me." I've even heard "Screw them! They should give ME that!" ("That" being money, a fabulous spouse, nice car, whatever.) When they run across people with more money than them, they feel that they should have part of it... especially if the other person is biologically related to them.
2) The other kind is the type of person who's very concerned about the rights of others, what they can do to help other people, and how to defend those who can't defend themselves. They don't want anything they haven't worked hard for themselves (if they're able). These folks speak often of finding ways to give to the needy withought injuring others' dignity. When they happen upon people who seem to be in a better life situation than them, they think "You GO, girl/guy! Rock on!" They're happy for the other person. When they run across people with more money than them, they admire the person for working hard to get the money.
Oops... where's the Avon lady?
A while ago, my son stole my deodorant. Well, he asked politely if he could borrow it... and I haven't seen it since. I'm sure it's in a duffel bag or backpack that's been haulted to various friend's houses where he spent the night, and sundry paintball tournaments. At any rate, I'm pretty certain I don't WANT it back.
This morning, though, I needed some deodorizer. It's starting to get warm here in central Texas, and one likes to be careful, you know? But I had none, and I have no clue where my husband's hiding his neutral/hypoallergenic stuff. So I thought "What's good for the goose..." and proceeded to pilfer my son's deodorant.
After applying it, I realized what it was: Brut. 
That's right... I smell nice and manly now. It's bothering the hell out of me, but the only alternative I can think of is to wash it completely off, and then I'm back at square one, right?
There's an Avon lady that works in this building. I think I need to go hit her up for some samples or something.
Clarification
About that other blog, where I said:
Life is so good, I wish I could live it twice.
I meant I feel that way about 99% of the time, and have for years. It's not an "enjoy it while you can" thing -- it's like opposite depression or something. I just feel like life is a gift that we get to enjoy every day.
What do you consider a gift in life? Do you have a good job, family, friends? What makes you smile? Besides beer, I mean.
My old pal Stjnky has been pondering God lately. He's posted some downright interesting stuff. From that blog, though, I'd like to pull a comment by HomerTheBrave out of context, just cuz it made me giggle. He was discussing the idea of making God whatever you need God to be, since none of us is really 100% sure of the nature of God.
Repeat after me: "God is an a large black woman. God is Aunt Jemimah. God's love covers the world like syrup covers a pancake."
I just love that imagery.
SARAH
(Don't feel obliged to reply to this, or even read it. I'm just writing because I need to right now.)
Jimmy (my teenage son) has had a friend for a little over a year named Sarah. We'd run into Sarah here and there, and gave her a ride home once. Home was at grandma's, and grandma didn't drive. I wondered how she ever got anywhere, but didn't think much of it.
Jimmy is still friends with Sarah. They're in the same high school now, and re-connected. Sarah's 16, and has pink and blue hair, and she's cute as a bug. And she's pregnant (no, Jimmy's not the father). And both her parents are in jail. And grandma's in a hursing home. But she and her 18-year-old brother are staying at Grandma's empty house, on a mattress on the floor, for the time being. At least until CPS catches up with her.
But Sarah's not dumb. I think she's very brave: she could have had an abortion, like many girls do at her age. She could have quit school. She has no support from the father, so she's going it alone. She's got her ducks in a row, though, make no mistake. In fact, I think she's more together than I was as a young, single pregnant woman. And hell, I was 22, not 16.
Today we had this conversation:
Me: "Sarah, can I ask you the question you've probably been asked 50 times this week?"
Her: "Sure! Shoot."
Me: "What the heck are you going to do with a baby?"
Her: "Oh, no one's asked me that this week. Those 50 times were LAST week." 
Earlier today, I had hoped to talk to her about adoption options. But she's already considered and rejected that idea. She explained her plan to me, and it's not a bad one, considering her circumstances. She has a case worker, she's getting clothes and toys from Any Baby Can, she's on Medicaid for healthcare for her and the baby, she knows about WIC (Women/Infants/Children) for food, and her high school has a daycare. She'll finish school, and move into the working world from there. She even has plans for affordable housing lined up for after high school.
Did I mention she's brave? Nowhere in there is a plan of "I'm going to find a man that will pay my way." Nope, she'll work it out.
She's also very intelligent. You know what I mean: that spark, that quick wit, that sparkle in the eye someone has when they're very, very bright. Of course, getting into this situation wasn't too bright, but that's water under the bridge now, isn't it? If you or I were 16 and our parents were in the slammer, we might look for love and comfort where we could find it, too. From here, though, all she can do is look forward, and that's what she's doing.
Christians (I'm one) often talk about being pro-life. If we're going to be pro-life, then dammit, we need to love and support brave women like Sarah. She's being spurned from every angle, but I feel a heavy, heavy need to show her kindness and love. And belive me, she seems to appreciate the heck out of it.
We took her to do pottery with us tonight at the paint-it-yourself pottery place. I told her to pick any piece she wanted to paint, and I'd pay for it, get it fired, etc. She picked a lovely ornate heart-shaped dish with roses and vines on it... and turned it over. It said $15, and I told her that was fine. She said "For $15, I could have lunch for a whole week."
For two weeks (before I knew of Sarah's situation), I've been writing down the phone number for a home for pregnant teenagers every time I hear their call for volunteers on the radio, but I hadn't ever called. Then I ran into Sarah. Maybe there's a reason, ya think?
No, really, it's true
You know what Jesus is never reported to have done? He never invited anyone to church... or to whatever he called it when he hung out with his disciples.
He met people where they were -- hookers, drunks, lepers, tax collectors, all of society's outcasts. When they found out he was teaching about love, they began to follow him, naturally... but he didn't drag people to a building or to meet with a group in order to teach tell them his message.
So why are Christians so often isolationists? Riddle me this, Batman.
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