homemaker

Biologist Steve Mendive, who was working with the Alaskan Wildlife Conservation Center got hurled into a snow-covered fence recently by a 2400 pound bison.  I am very happy that Steve was unhurt by this scary experience but I must confess that I truly understand what that animal was thinking.

I have the exact same issues when I am being examined by doctors.  Actually, I assume everyone else does, too.  Imagine being herded into a shoot (or waiting room) along with dozens of others, forced onto a scale, have a thermometer stuck somewhere, needles jabbed into you, strangers dressed in medical gear staring into your eyes whispering “uh, huh” and your wanting to scream, “What is it, doc.!  What’s wrong with me!”

There have been numerous times I, myself, wanted to rush past some medical type and escape to the place of “no illnesses.”  Thank heavens I don’t weigh 2400 pounds but I think it was a lucky accident that Steve ended up in the snow bank, although he probably saved himself by remembering, as he said, “To avoid the horns.”

Democrats, Republicans, Financiers, Bankers, Senators, House Members–you name it.  the American people have been had by all of them.

Trying to explain away all the communal ineptitude doesn’t change things one whit.  If these people cared more about doing their JOBS than polishing their public images, maybe this country wouldn’t be in the scary, embarrassing position it is today.

Now it has been proven that giving the government money with the understanding that they know what to do with it, is sheer folly.

At least govenmental incompetence at all levels has achieved one positive result.  It shows up Washington types and their lobbying friends for who they really are and who they really represent.  It sure as hell isn’t the American people.

Maybe we’ve been had but never have we been more aware of it.

On March 17th a senator from Iowa suggested to some employees of AIG that perhaps they should “commit suicide.”  This revelation leads me to wonder what university the senator went to and how the classes in political, socio-economic studies were taught.

Did some professor go over the standard legal accounting practices, income tax laws, corporate pay structures and various machinations of American commerce the days the senator absent ? Or, did he raise his hand and ask, “So, what should a person do if they get elected to Congress and forget all this stuff you’re teaching us?”

Did the teacher shrug his shoulders and answer, “Ah, just tell anyone you want to go kill themselves?”  In fact, the senator seems obviously frustrated at he and his colleagues’ failure to understand contract stipulations before they take over huge corporations.  It appears that most members of Congress are unable to understand the legalities, intricacies and nuances of any financial undertaking.

Herein lies the problem–Washington bureaucrats really don’t know what the hell they are doing.  That alone propels one of them to step up to a microphone with the cameras running and state that someone should consider killing themselves.  This statement implies that the members of Congress themselves are the ones who should be the targets of such an outrageous suggestion.

Or, as Neil Cavuto would say, “Is this a Trojan Horse or a Trojan’s Horse’s ass?

You all saw the riot in front of the Tyra Banks’ Studio when she advertised for new model contestants.  Wow!  Imagine, thousands of wannabees throwing mascara wands, hair weaves, push-up bra pads and binkini wax strips at each other.

Six people got hurt.  Did they get extra-long, artificial nail stab wounds?  Did some slip on several tubes of hair gel?  Were they burned with a battery powered curling iron?  I hope no one was blinded by a punch of lip gloss.

Three participants were arrested maybe for stealing combination, dual-sided blush and concealer sticks.  Did someone stab another with an eyeliner pencil?  Did a prisoner snap a skinny hopeful with a new body shaper?

This was a scene out of an old 1940’s movie, where hundreds of crazed females were grabbing bargain basement house coats in Filene’s Basement.

After watching the debacle, I’m so glad that I didn’t decide to be a model.  Oh, wait a minute; I’m only 5 feet 4 inches tall!  I don’t meet the height requirement anyway!  And, I weigh over ninety pounds.  Goody!  Now I can eat that box of Yodels without worrying about losing my job, my boyfriend or that coveted spot on national, talk T.V.

And,  are the Irish really that lucky?  According to dissidents in Northern Ireland,  Danny Boy has a good chance of being killed again, if he lives in Lurgan.  Craigavon isn’t too safe either, especially if you happen to be a cop.  Someone from the Irish Republican Army killed one there last Monday.  All of this seems to stem from whether or not a person is of the Catholic or Protestant persuasion.

This leads me to wonder how they know which religion a person belongs to before they shoot them.  Do people in Ireland wear an arm band like the Jews did when the Nazis were in power in Germany?  Or, do opponents sneak into the church offices and look up names in the rolls while communicants are sipping wine on Sunday?

In a world filled with overwhelming problems, why would anyone wrap their head with cloth (probably woven by the opposition) attack and slaughter someone who is of a different religion, race or skin color?

The answer to this question can only be that the assailants just don’t have enough to do.  If these terrorists don’t have a job, for Pete’s sake, let’s give them one!  For starters, they could get paid for cleaning up the mess made from their own activities during the riots.  Maybe that could be parlayed into sanitation jobs where one could climb the corporate ladder, eventually moving into a more prestigious position.

I honestly believe that the only way to obtain world peace is for the most talented musicians and film makers to hold concerts and produce videos that project images of people doing what God intended us to do–caring, sharing and loving one another no matter what we happen to look like, which church we attend or what language we speak. These sounds and images should then be plastered throughout the world on the internet, street corners, in village squares and on every television station in the world for at least one hour every day.

Hey, if I were a talented singer or video maker and had great contacts, I would go and do it myself.  But, as you can see, I’m just a great blog writer. 

Back in the day, when people recycled, they really did RE cycle.  If they broke a part on their bikes, they went to the hardware store, bought the part and installed it themselves.  They replaced seats, tires, handlebars, baskets–you name it.

People carried the ashes from their coal furnaces to the curb once a week.  The trash men collected those.  Some used ashes to coat the sidewalks on snowy days.  Do you think the rest are still at the dump?

Everyone recycled their clothes.  Patches went on jacket elbows and jeans.  Rips were stitched up with plain old thread.  Socks always had holes that needed darning.  I’m sure old clothes were given to charity, if they had any life in them at all.

Of course, the milkman always delivered products in glass bottles.  They were recycled on a daily basis.  Same thing with diapers.  If someone was rich enough to have a diaper service, their diapers were washed at a factory everyday, also.

During the Second World War, people learned to recycle everything because everything was scarce.  Metal, paper, wood and rubber (maybe cloth, too) items were loaded into piles to be shipped to some obscure place and reused for military stuff.

I guess this all means that there’s not much anyone can tell an older person about recycling.  They’ve been scrimping, sacrificing, saving and doing without, well, forever.