Part of the reason no blogs have blogged out of me is that Emily, Madeleine, Liam and I are in a golden age of sorts. This is definitely a time that I will someday look back upon fondly as "the good old days." Madeleine has breakfast with me every morning, and rushes to greet me at the door every evening when I get home from work. Emily and I spend long hours on our couches, discussing life and our family and our future plans. And Liam's face lights up into a big, dimply smile when he lays eyes one me. There is simply not a single thing I could ask for.
So, rarely do I have a private moment to write out my thoughts. I'm making time for it now though because I have recently noticed that my memory is beginning to slip. I attribute it less to age as I do to lack of environmental change. The memories in this house are building up, happily. But I find even my daydreaming has begun to fall into cyclic routines much like the household chores. So, for my own sake, I must continue to document my thoughts.
One current event-themed thought, perfect for documenting; Immigration. Personally, I believe in loving and respecting all humans, regardless of nationality. I suppose that could be a "globalist" view, but perhaps that warrants further discussion. At any rate, I have difficulty understanding the reasoning behind granting privileges to people simply based on what latitude and longitude they happen to have been born at. (Not that they had much choice in that matter.) Now, I do understand the practical applications of citizenship, but it is my failure to grasp the root logic of it that is confusing to me.
Furthermore, I believe that it is my American upbringing that only confounds the issue. I understand that at certain points along my ancestry, my families arrived as immigrants to the country. The "assimilated," sure. But they also added their own unique ingredient to the melting pot. An American culture that did not include the flavors of Native, Central, and South Americans, Africans, Asians, and Pacific Islanders would hardly be recognizable as distinct from European. On an even closer scale, we have a pan-European culture mixed in as well. Distinct strains of German, French, Italian, British, Scandinavian, Greek, Irish, Russian, Baltic, Balkan, Belorussian and more are all evident in our country. And even then, there is a distinct "Americanness" to it all. The idea that immigrants must "assimilate" and "speak the language" is preposterous. It is only by proudly adding their own patches to our quilt that they are true Americans. And it is only by accepting them that we are truly America.
So, gracefully ignoring any sort of potential racism, the fight against immigration seems suspect at best. The idea appears to be based upon a melange of actual facts, unverifiable claims, reliable and unreliable statistics and conjectures, and downright lies. And the attitude is bolstered merely by anecdotal evidence.
Another day we can explore the ramifications of the concept of citizenship. But for now, I feel quite convinced; give us your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Great Acheivements in Manliness!
"You really think you can unload all that concrete in six minutes?" she asked, her sarcastic tone was not enough to disguise her true feelings. She wanted me out of there.
"I promise I can do it," I replied without thinking. I absolutely love a challenge, and subconsciously I had all ready made up my mind to prove myself to her.
"You have eleven hours to come down here, and you chose the last five minutes?" she retorted. Ok, landfill gate attendant lady, no need to get insulting. I had raced here to arrive before closing time, not to mention the hurried job I did to load up the truck all by myself. I had worked hard to get here in time, and while one snide comment was understandably warranted in this situation, I had not given her much reason for two. It was clear though - her further taunt was meant to undermine my ability.
"What a bitch!" Emily summed up my feelings succinctly as we drove down into the waves of refuse.
The older man standing alone amongst the monuments to wastefulness had a similar appraisal to the bitch. "Concrete?" he said as I pulled near. "Just back up next to the hill there and unload it." I didn't want to make these folks work late, and their lack of confidence in me only pushed me harder. I whipped my dad's Ford Ranger around and lunged headlong -- er, asslong? -- toward my goal.
Jumping up into the bed, I strained to lift the concrete chunks and hurl them into the maelstrom of filth. Then the other items followed; a tree trunk, a couple dozen fence planks, pvc pipes, paint cans, and peg boards. Flinging the last items onto the heap, I jumped back in the cab and took off towards the gate.
"How was that?" I admit was smug as I settled the truck onto the scale.
"That was pretty good!" I had earned a smile from the landfill gate attendant lady. She handed me my receipt happily, and I drove off, rolling up my window at the stench.
Stamped on the receipt was a document of my accomplishment. I had unloaded 760 pounds in under 6 minutes!
"I promise I can do it," I replied without thinking. I absolutely love a challenge, and subconsciously I had all ready made up my mind to prove myself to her.
"You have eleven hours to come down here, and you chose the last five minutes?" she retorted. Ok, landfill gate attendant lady, no need to get insulting. I had raced here to arrive before closing time, not to mention the hurried job I did to load up the truck all by myself. I had worked hard to get here in time, and while one snide comment was understandably warranted in this situation, I had not given her much reason for two. It was clear though - her further taunt was meant to undermine my ability.
"What a bitch!" Emily summed up my feelings succinctly as we drove down into the waves of refuse.
The older man standing alone amongst the monuments to wastefulness had a similar appraisal to the bitch. "Concrete?" he said as I pulled near. "Just back up next to the hill there and unload it." I didn't want to make these folks work late, and their lack of confidence in me only pushed me harder. I whipped my dad's Ford Ranger around and lunged headlong -- er, asslong? -- toward my goal.
Jumping up into the bed, I strained to lift the concrete chunks and hurl them into the maelstrom of filth. Then the other items followed; a tree trunk, a couple dozen fence planks, pvc pipes, paint cans, and peg boards. Flinging the last items onto the heap, I jumped back in the cab and took off towards the gate.
"How was that?" I admit was smug as I settled the truck onto the scale.
"That was pretty good!" I had earned a smile from the landfill gate attendant lady. She handed me my receipt happily, and I drove off, rolling up my window at the stench.
Stamped on the receipt was a document of my accomplishment. I had unloaded 760 pounds in under 6 minutes!
My current treatise on God
God is the Unknown. Whatever lies just beyond the grasp of our understanding - that's what God is. And like the paradox of infinity, God will continue to remain tantalizingly out of reach. To whatever degree you choose to believe that God guides you along the path of existence, only the things for which you have no other explanation are attributed to Him.
To explore the Universe is to seek out His face. And to delight in the mystery of the future is to worship Him.
And just as unseen forces bond the subatomic particles together or curve space time to keep our feet on the ground, so too are we connected to one another. Love is the only purpose for our existence.
To explore the Universe is to seek out His face. And to delight in the mystery of the future is to worship Him.
And just as unseen forces bond the subatomic particles together or curve space time to keep our feet on the ground, so too are we connected to one another. Love is the only purpose for our existence.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
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