Black Friday and Gray Thursday

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I love Thanksgiving- Food, family, and festive family traditions putting up Christmas decor. It's a shame they ruin it with shopping. At one point in my life, there was a point to rush out and grab gifts for people I love, but now I mostly just buy things I intend to buy anyway because they are on sale that weekend. This year, I didn't go anywhere at all. I stayed home, worked in my yard, and ordered online, and it was a peaceful and glorious followup to the Thanksgiving calm.

Gray Thursday began this year with two extra weeks of pre-black friday sales and Christmas music. I understand that with Thanksgiving being so late stores are desperate to break even, but I have to wonder at their strategy. Doesn't it make more sense to have sales at other times of year and break even earlier? Besides, it looked to me while perusing ads that everyone proposed to sell the exact same things for the exact same prices. Two items of note I remember. My jeans were actually on sale at Walmart for under $10 like every year, and since I lost weight I needed a smaller size. Other stores were advertising door busters at $17 or more. Some other stores were selling 22lr ammo as doorbusters limited to one box each at the same price Walmart charges every day of the year. So much for the shortage being over.

Instead of planning a shopping trip, I looked at all the things I don't need and helped my folks decorate for Christmas. Usually my kid sister plays that major role, but she's not around this year for the first time since she was born, and so I got to fill in the gaps. Just like in our prayers, I think we rush through the gratitude portion and into the portion where we try to boss God around the universe with a Wish List that's more about demands than humble petitioning. I was grateful I didn't have to go out and waste time standing in lines I didn't expect spending money I don't have to buy things I don't need to impress people I don't like (I saw that quote misattributed today to the movie Fight Club when it predates that flick). I spent time with my family and then working on my own domicile, and it felt good even though I was exhausted thoroughly.

Before we parted ways, my dad and I talked about family traditions at Christmas. He used to go out Christmas eve with my sister to K-Mart just to people watch and for fun. Instead, this year, he and I went over and watched people rush over on Gray Thursday to be the first to buy things in a commercial conformity. We talked about old Christmases, about our traditions, and I thought about how much I prefer the experiences of my childhood to what I can see today in the world at large.

Armed with warnings about the low quality of Black Friday merchandise and aware from previous years that things go on sale more deeply later, I decided to do something else this year. My yard still looks like a construction site, but I have made visible progress on something to please the eye and gladden the heart. Rather than follow the shrupshire sheep, I gave thanks and then didn't petition my maker for anything. There is only one thing I would ask for Christmas this year, but that choice is up to her. My life, this year, are pretty great. Although there were no fireworks, I realize that I'm wealthier than most people alive now and better off than the wealthy of yesteryear. Nothing bad happened, and that's rare to say, and things continue to be well. You can't buy that on Black Friday, but I can ignore Grey Thursday and see that sunlight shines through the clouds.

Does Home Depot Hate America?

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Even with Black Friday this week, I may not patronize Home Depot. I shop there because it’s convenient, because it’s cheaper in many instances than stores like Lowes, and because they have certain items I prefer over those offered by competitors. However, I have never seen a business so apparently disinterested in serving the American citizen. They seem to not like the very men and women who make their business profitable. That’s sort of like a cow kicking the woman milking it. Home Depot may kill itself.

Home Depot doesn’t offer regular military discounts. On Veteran’s Day, my father, who is a decorated combat veteran, was given some glib comments about how they don’t usually give military discounts. It was Veteran’s Day. How ungrateful can you get? If you are a veteran, you usually have to ask a manager to certify the discount, and they never give the discount on lumber. Who doesn’t buy lumber from Home Depot? I don’t know where else to buy it sometimes. Last time I bought some, which was within the last two weeks, I went to Lowes because it was cheaper and because they give 10% off on lumber as well. Your loss, Home Depot.

Home Depot is allegedly behind the amnesty program initiated this weekend by the President. I don’t know exactly how they benefit, because I do go to Home Depot regularly because they will sell to the college and wait 90 days to get paid. However, they do seem to benefit somehow from cheaper labor. Their prices are already lower than other home improvement stores, and if they can get even cheaper employees, why not? Maybe it’s simpler than that. Maybe it’s about all those migrant aliens in the parking lot who glare at me when I don’t offer them work. Notice you rarely see alien day laborers outside Lowes, at least not in Vegas. Home depot already has poorer customer service. The store closest my house almost begged me after I had a positive interaction to write them a review. It’s nigh impossible to get help from someone there, and when someone deigns acquiesce to my request, they do so reticently, and look visibly annoyed to have to help me. Screw that.

Coupons come with far too many codicils at Home Depot. Several recent mailings included appropriately vague language to draw customers in with a bait and switch. What they don’t know is that my grandfather once worked in advertising, and so I am frequently able to leverage his expertise to get them to honor the advertisement as written. Your 40% off isn’t on everything, only on clearance items? Well, it doesn’t say that, so you can either honor it or respond to a complaint. I have the time to fight this kind of crusade because I’m a single male, and sometimes knights errant fight impossible causes because they need to be fought. Whether they forget to list the limitations or list a line of limitations that rivals the possible counterindications of a pharmaceutical, I always have to read the fine print at Home Depot, and quite frankly their ads are not worth considering any more.

I love my home, this United States of America, and I grew up knowing about the Home Depot because my dad fixed many things at home himself. Home Depot was part of my life growing up, and now they’re more of a side thought. I will continue to shop there despite commercial shenanigans because they have product lines that I prefer at prices lower than their competitors. However, they should beware. Eventually the double speak grows so large that I prefer to pay more and patronize other competitors. Almost every company that does that risks driving itself out of business with its duplicitous and unpatriotic behavior. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Home Depot, empor.

Good Sheep For the Shepherd

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All too often in our sermons, our conversations, and our lives, we consider what other people should do better and forget to critique ourselves. Today in Sunday School however due to a happenstance pastoral memory from an older woman, we all had the opportunity to ask ourselves if we are being good sheep. You see, we think usually in terms of being shepherds, tending to others in the stead of the master, but even if you are a shepherd, to Him you are a sheep, ALWAYS. The onus therefore falls on us to be good sheep and thereby assist the Good Shepherd in bringing God's children safely in from the fields.

The woman mentioned told a story about a sheep her great grandfather tended who pushed other sheep off of a bridge. Nobody seems to know why this sheep did this, but it necessitated one additional shepherd being there to rescue sheep from the brook below and return them to the herd as his sole purpose. At this point, I pointed out how the rest of the sheep never seemed bothered that their brother returned or that one among their number mistreated them periodically in the same way and in the same place. They had learned to be good sheep for the shepherd and not create any more work after the one miscreant hurt others.

Although part of the lesson, the instructor omitted mention of Ezekiel 18 until I brought it up in context of the onery sheep and the others. You see, we like to think of ourselves whenever possible as good sheep. We're out there trying to save others when we haven't even bothered to check ourselves. We are critical of sheep who kick others off bridges, mock those that fall in the water, and sometimes refuse to let them back into the fold. Yet, if those things ever apply to us we hypocritically demand "christ-like" treatment and readmission without reprobation. We do not allow the atonement to affect the lives of other sheep. When the onery one rehabilitates himself, we still recall how he bullied us. When those who fall as a consequence of his detours, we don't like to let them back in with full fellowship. Ezekiel talks about how the Good Shepherd has no joy in losing ANY sheep. That's why there was an atonement, so that every sheep that desires to be part of His herd may come, may stay, and if they stray they may count on Him to offer them a chance to return to full fellowship.

In order to be good shepherds or good sheep, we have to learn to see others as God sees them. I love F. Enzio Busche's admonition: "When you cannot love another person, look into that person's eyes long enough to see the hidden rudiments of a child of God." That's what we are. We are all God's children. I know that sometimes it's hard to love people who hurt us, and God knows that I pray betimes for people who wronged me, not because I love them, but because I know HE DOES. They are precious to Him, and I think if they understood who I was and what they did, they would probably be ashamed.

We are not really as much a part of a flock as we are individuals. People in civics or government or religion will attempt to lump us together as "the masses" or "Anglo-Saxons" or "divorced person" because then we're easier to balkanize. It's easier to kill a sheep once you cull it off from the herd than it is to jump the thorny barricade and deal with a shepherd willing to die for his sheep. They do not want us to realize our individual worth. YOu see, good shepherds, like good professors, (of which I humble attest I am) know the names of those over whom they have stewardship. They know things about them and remember them. In my old congregation, people referred to each other as Betty and Joseph and Christal and Rick and to me as "Brother Funny", which ostracized me. In my new congregation, people actually took time to learn my name and USE IT. People do not care about what you know or what you can do unless they know that you care, and you cannot effectively and honestly care about people that you do not know. Prayers about random strangers are vacuous if you loathe your own family members.

Being good sheep for the shepherd begins early, with attitudes and actions nurtured from a young age. Over a decade ago, when I bred beagles with my ex wife, she constantly bewailed the fact that the young puppies loved me more than they loved her. Well, I was the one who spent time with them, played with them, held them, let them lick my face and chew my ears and crawl on my back. I was the one who fed them. They associated me with good things. They came to me because they knew my voice and knew that I knew them by name. Yes, I named every puppy in every litter. The one I brought with me to Vegas was one I knew all his life. One morning, I was out watering them before work when I heard a whine. I rescued him from a precarious and immobile position between the fence and the wall, and he knew that I cared about him. He licked me and refused to move, and later on, he would put his life on the line to protect me because I once cared for him.

Christ's work and the work of Christians everywhere is the work of spiritual salvation. Sometimes people of other faiths or no faith at all mock us for not attending to the temporary and material needs of others. Ezekiel reminds us that God's work is the work of the soul. Yes, He cares about whether we live today and how well we live and how we live, but His work goes beyond this brief span of mortality. Out, out brief candle. Life is but a walking shadow, a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon stage and then moves to another plane of existence in God's presence. In order to achieve that, people must repent and turn to Christ in order to live. It's not about bread; it's about the Bread of Life. It's not about water; it's about Living Water. It's not about accolades; it's about divine approbation. God is eager to forgive, and when we turn to the Good Shepherd and follow Him, He leads us to green and distant shores over that fair horizon. God's work for His shepherds is to call men to repentance and turn them to Christ, the only way by which any man may be saved from wolves and men who stand to scatter the flock of souls. It means that we continue to fellowship the onery sheep even if he kicks us off the bridge. It means that we welcome back those who leave, whatever the reason, and allow the atonement to work for them. If "he who repenteth is forgiven and I the Lord remember them no more" is good enough for God, how can good sheep do any less?

While God sometimes calls us to be shepherds over parts of His flock, He always needs us to be good sheep. My old religious Seminary instructor used to send us to High School with the admonition "be the good kids!" In that way, by our example, we preach the gospel by the way we live our lives and inspire others to follow us as we follow Him. They trust us until they can learn to trust Him. We become a microcosm of a larger herd, sheep who are also shepherds, influencing those sheep immediately around us. We lift where we stand. We lead where we stand. We touch lives where we stand. It may not seem like much, but because those sheep matter to Him too, it IS important work. No matter how small our sphere of influence, the better sheep we are, the better shepherds we can be in the service of the Master Shepherd.

Increased Ability

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Starting back in July, I sent myself to a boot camp of sorts to get into shape, and I continue to see the fruits of my efforts. When my buddy and I hike, I need about 30 minutes to recharge, and then I can go again. On average, I burn 4300 calories per day and go 15 miles. I started to train and condition myself to become a certain kind of fit, and although it's not what most people consider fit, and although I'll never be an underwear model or show up in a calendar of attractive physiques, I live in a body that reacts positively when I train it and rises to fulfill the measure of its creation. Now if I only knew what God actually desires of me in this life.

As part of my backyard retrofit, I ordered five pallets of rock, totalling 14000 pounds, to use in building planters in the rear. Yesterday morning, while riding my bicycle, they were dropped in the street in front of my house. After lunch, I scurried home and got started preparing the ground, gathering tools and supplies, and dressing for the work. With my mother's help lifting blocks, we cleared the first two pallets into place in two hours. I was burning 330 kcal/hour and logging 2.25miles per pallet walking them from the gutter into the back yard. By the time my hiking buddy arrived, I was halfway through the penultimate pallet despite walking in the dark, and I was mostly tired from all of the repetitive walking back and forth with a load. He told me that he was impressed that I finished 3.5 pallets before he arrived, and he told me that was evidence that I was in better shape than he.

A few years ago, I would never believe myself capable of such an endeavor. I moved seven imperial tons of rock by hand in six hours and ended up with a personal best of 40,000 steps and 5000 kcal for the day. Obviously, I have accumulated some conditioning and some endurance. This is what I intended to achieve by my workouts. most people go to the gym in order to obtain a body that impresses others visually, and that's in truth what women I know encourage me to do. Instead, I sought a body that could go and do. I have achieved that increased ability, and although I am still overweight according to the State's BMI metrics, I am not tired at the end of the day. My body was happy to relax, but when I awoke today, I did not feel like I did as much yesterday as I actually did. I felt no more worn out than normal. This is normal for me.

Health is something we do rather than something that we are. The most important facets of a healthy life are mobility and activity. The journey to health starts with small steps, as many as you like. I have quite literally walked my way into a healthy body and lifestyle, and without intending to I have become the person I once thought my father to be. In family projects, I marveled at how he just kept going, and I felt he could do things that only someone with superhuman strength could achieve. Now, I am that man, and it feels wonderful.

If and when I have a family, I will be the kind of father who can keep up with his children, provide for their financial needs, and show them the wonders of the world beyond the borders of the living room. I do not know exactly what I was born to do, but I'm training and preparing for all the possibilities knowing that, even if they are not certain, it is easier to get ready if you're already working on it than if you must start from scratch. God gave me this body for some reason. Even if its only purpose is to see how well I will care for it, I intend to be a good steward. Remember that to those men to whom talents were given in the parable God gave greater stewardship. When we demonstrate our ability, the just God of heaven and earth who seeth in secret does reward openly. He has increased my ability; He has enlarged my strength; He makes sure that I run and am not weary and walk without fainting. It's a marvel. I only stopped because I could.

There was no sense of urgency, but there was a sense of accomplishment, and I wanted you to rejoice with me as I will when the work of this garden comes to its climax. I intend to do my best to do my duty to beautify this small portion of His garden over which He gave me hegemony so that if He decides to allow me to have a family I will have a place fit to raise, nurture, and provide for those that I love. But if not, I will have the means, motive, and opportunity to provide for any wayfaring men of grief He decides to lead my way. God gave me increase so that I can help others increase as well. Until then, I shall prepare things to please the eye and gladden the heart so that my refuge can serve as a refuge for others who may visit my house and so that it may be a fit habitation for Him if He deigns visit my humble abode.

Oaths from Scoundrels

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People constantly make promises, and sometimes they do so under oath. The problem arises because we discover that so many people do not keep their word. For a long time, I pondered why this was so, and I realized that the root lies in the person to whom people believe they make oaths. I mean them and keep them because I believe in a Supreme Being. Many people who break their oaths do not believe in anything at all. That's the difference, and now I understand why an oath from a scoundrel is meaningless.

Sir Thomas More proclaimed in a letter to his daughter Margaret Roper, "What is an oath but words we say to God?" This of course presumes that those entering in to the oath believe in God. If you do, you believe that God holds you to the oath because He is part of it. If you violate it, even if the other person chooses to forgive and release you from obligation, God may still hold you accountable. Believing that a higher power holds you accountable helps keep people honest. Even I sometimes come short, but when I do, I attempt to make it right and make it work because I believe that God will hold me to accounting even if you don't.

Many people think nothing of breaking their oaths because they believe they set the rules. If you do not believe in something greater than yourself, then what will hold you accountable for the consequences of changing the rules? You can change the rules at any time to serve your own selfish ends no matter what collateral damage you leave behind. If you have the power and other people can't touch you, who will punish you or force you to keep your word? This kind of person only makes rules so that they can break them. They don't believe in rules, but they know you do.

Unfortunately, all too often in the most important relationships in life, we receive oaths from scoundrels. There's the usual: flowers, chocolates, and promises you don't intend to keep. Politicians are adept at this. They will make a promise, but because they believe themselves to be masterminds, gods among men, they think they can change the rules at any time whenever it's expedient to their personal agenda. It becomes very frustrating for the lay person, because most people actually intend to keep their promises. Most politicians do not.

People make decisions based on information and expectations. When someone makes a promise, we make decisions about whether to play, how to play, and what stakes we will accept. When someone changes their mind, it renders some of the things we expect impossible, and yet the other party still requires us to keep our part of the bargain. Changing the rules changes the game into a different game. Change the rules, and nobody will want to play.  That's why people lie.

I trust people sometimes far more than I should. The fact is that I cannot blame them for the mistakes made by others, and so I give them the benefit of the doubt until they prove untrustworthy. In the case of powerful people or people who hold power over our lives, this becomes a huge risk, because they can sometimes break us with information or insights or powers we give them over our lives in order to establish intimate relationships of trust. Fortunately for me, none of those from whom I received representations chose to do that, but then again I don't hobnob with politicians. I trust most of them about as far as I can throw the universe. When someone proves to be a scoundrel, their oaths mean nothing.

We make oaths to men and to God. Even when men prove unwilling or unable to make good on their representations, God will. God will give me justice. Please don't make promises you don't intend to keep. God heard them too.

Christmas Music in November

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As much as being single at Christmas sucks, I look forward to the Christmas season each year. What surprised me this morning was, when I turned on my car, how early Christmas music began playing on the radio. It's not the music of Christmas per se that bothers me. It's the timing and the songs they actually select. If they chose traditional songs, it would appeal to me more, but I get tired of "Santa Baby" and "It's the Most Wonderful Time" and "Feliz Navidad" ad nauseum. Until I was an adult, I had never heard of those songs, and they are not ones to which I choose to listen. In fact, I change the station. Unfortunately, of the six station presets in my Saturn, THREE of them were already playing "holiday music" and that vexes me.

Like the other holidays, retailers accelerate the coming of Christmas. I read yesterday that Black Friday now lasts an entire week thanks to Wal-Mart and similar companies that open on Thanksgiving and offer special and unique sales all the way through Cyber Monday. Even Amazon is already selling special Black Friday items, and it's two weeks early. All this effort to move from one holiday to the next kind of deflates the wind from the sails of our journey through the most wonderful time of the year. Displacing Thanksgiving, however, is not something I am prone to tolerate well. In all the hours I spend praying, and for all the complaining I do, the campaigning I do, and the requests I make, I do take time regularly here and elsewhere to thank God and my family and other people for the great things in my life. My life is wonderful, and I like the opportunity to give thanks each year. It makes me think of things more than the immediate, the trite, and the vacuous that we sometimes take for granted unless forced to consider just how blessed we really are.

Radio stations predominantly play secular songs during the Christmas Season. That's all well and dandy, but they do this because they don't want to drive away their audience. If they play Holy Night, Silent Night, and O Little Town of Bethlehem, they know they'll alienate people who are not of any Faith, let alone some Christians who are just a wee bit anxious that Christ might actually be real. The songs they play get us in the mood, sing of the season, but really just remind me that Christmas was changed to December by Rome's order to outcompete a pagan holiday at the same time. They're really just pandering to the irreligious, the sacreligious, and those for whom religion is a convenient vestment rather than celebrating the Christ. I don't want a Hippopotamus, I don't think Santa is sexy, and I really can't stay because I shouldn't and I won't. Those are not Christmas songs. Those are "holiday songs".

Most of this behavior is motivated by money at its core. Retailers want stuff on the shelves earlier so they can turn a profit earlier. Radio stations don't want to lose the majority of their customers, and so rather than alienate the lion's share, they pander to those who do not share my beliefs, knowing that they will only lose a few of us who are put off by their mercantilism. Whereas I am mostly finished with my Christmas shopping, most people have only just begun. This allows retailers and radio stations to sell advertising to people who are more about gifts than about God, and I wish them well in their efforts to make money. God knows that this nation is still financially struggling no matter what the politicians prattle.

I am not happy about the infiltration of Christmas deeper into November. Tonight, I will find my Christmas mix tape (yes, it's a cassette tape) and put it in my car, where I will listen to it like I always do until sometime in March when it just feels too warm to be Christmas. By consequence, I will hear even LESS advertising, because I won't be listening to the radio at all. I realize that I represent an infinitesimal fraction of the listening public, but this is my stand. I can listen to the traditional holiday hymns as I like whenever I like because I like them. It can be Joy to the World today and even for Valentine's Day. Even more stations and retailers alienate me by doing this, and I pledge to not make a purchase at Christmas on Thanksgiving Day. That is a day that is not for banks but for thanks. That's what November is about, and I thank God that I feel that way about it.

Respect for Individual Beliefs

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Over the last few days, I've driven behind quite a few cars festooned with stickers that proclaim tolerance and inclusion. The truth of the matter is that this usually only extends one way. Most people do not want tolerance. They want you to tolerate them. They do this in myriad ways, but often they attach their arguments to the Judeo-Christian responsibility to exercise charity, when they are not charitable in how they campaign or how they regard others who hold disparate views. When you point this out, they tell you that you're splitting hairs, that if you love them you will do what they like. Almost every such ad hoc is fallacy.

Sometimes the claim is made on the claims of fellowship or community or society. Well, that defeats the purpose in some cases when the petitioner possesses postulates of principle that lie askew from those of the society from whom they seek approbation. A few weeks ago after kayaking, we went out to dinner. My companions first attempted to persuade me to drink and then proceeded to deride me for my choice to be sober. They of course roasted my religion as archaic and outmoded. They think nothing of the practice and want me to judge myself doing it according to their rules. Constantly, I am criticized by women because I don't sleep with women I date or live with someone before marriage. They find my principles Puritanical and insist that I adopt their perspective in order to make headway. What both of these groups ignore is that I keep my principles because my principles keep me. At the end of the day, I have to live with my decisions and the consequences concomitant with my choices. Every time I step away from my principles, I feel miserable.

Choice is ultimately a matter of conscience more than it is about fellowship. I love the movie "A Man For All Seasons" because Sir Thomas More is one of my heroes. In the scene where Lord North tries to persuade him to sign "for fellowship", More responds:

When we die and you are sent to heaven for living your conscience and I am sent to hell for not living mine, will you come with me for fellowship?

Of course North won't. He will stay because he will want to enjoy his reward. More chooses to abstain, not because he doesn't like North, but because he likes himself. People who ask you to abandon your principles don't usually care about you as much as they care about themselves. If you join in their spoils, as North desires More to do, then they will feel justified, or at least they will feel less bad about themselves. If they can bring down the great Thomas More, then they aren't so bad. Well, that sucks for More. He knows better, and he has the most to lose if he leaves his beliefs.

These people have boundaries too. They don't really want all ideas to be considered, just theirs. One of the stickers I saw claimed it was for marriage and showed silhouettes of normal couples and homosexual ones. It leaves out polygamy, polyandry, incest, bestiality, etc. I'm not an apologist for any of those, but if I love my pillow, shouldn't I be able to marry it? Why won't they let me marry whatever I want, whenever I want, for whatever reason I like, no matter what? If they are really for "love", they would support that too. What they really support is themselves. Well, isn't that special? Christ abjured such people, "If ye love them which love you, what do ye more than others?" In other words, if you only support people who agree with you, that's not love. That's politics. You only really stand for something when you defend the rights of people you do not know and do not like.

Unless you support them, you do not love them. Each of these people knows deep down that this argument is a reducto ad absurdium, because they once had parents probably who refused to acquiesce to their request. It's not because their parents didn't love them. I cannot tell you how many things God denies me constantly or at least delays, but I do not shake my fist at the heavens and taunt Him or accuse Him of hating me. I know better. I ask for patience until I can understand why the answer today must be "no". Instead, humans issue ultimatums and say, "unless you do what I demand, you do not love me" or "unless you agree with me, you're a bigot" or "unless you help me, you are greedy" when if the tables were reversed they would apply a completely different standard. Only they matter. It serves them today, and so they stand for it.

It takes very little courage to stand with people who agree with you. It takes a great deal more to stand for what is right. It takes More faith and More courage, to refuse to join "for fellowship" with people who don't really want your fellowship in the first place. Many of these same people will demand your allowances while they talk about how their friends accept them for who they are. Most of them want to be accepted for who they are without having to return the favor, and even worse they demand that you abandon who you are to make them comfortable. It is not love to alienate you from your God, to take you from your family, or to drive you from what you know in order to welcome you. "Come as you are, as a friend, as a known memory", unless of course you are different, in which case you can join or walk the plank.

People who really respect and love you will respect and love YOU. They may disagree with your behaviors or beliefs or choices or companions, but they will still love YOU. Every single one of my close friends is a chain smoker. Some of them gamble. Others drink. They do not demand me to join them in the casino or at the bar or in the back room in order to be my friend. I do not demand that they quit those things in order to be theirs. Everyone has a Goliath to slay. Everyone needs the Savior. Everyone has an Achille's Heel. Just because yours is obvious doesn't mean I should eschew your company. While I don't join them doing things I find aberrant or abhorrent, I will join them in everything they do that is virtuous and brave and true. They feel the same way about me. They don't join me at church because they don't want to live my doctrine, but they don't mind that I live it. That's what real friends will do. Anyone who tells you differently is selling something.

"Wicked" Really Was

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Last week, I took my mother to see the broadway play “Wicked”, which I thought would be a nice treat. Although she enjoyed doing something with me, neither one of us really cared much for the show. Instead, we were treated to a daringly garish display of counterculture themes dressed up as entertainment because it was set to a catchy and popular score. Like when I saw “Sweeney Todd” in Vienna in 1999, I was completely unprepared for the wickedness on display, but that’s not the saddest part. The worst part is that most of the crowd probably didn’t even notice.

The play showcased all sorts of aberrant and abhorrent human behavior. From the first scene, where we learn how the wicked witch was born of an affair to the final scene, where we learn that the wizard who ordered her demise was her own father, the play depicted man’s inhumanity to man. Rumors are believed by the somnambulant public. Racism appears in the form of animals being banned from teaching at university. The people bully the witch for her green skin. Her own stepfather distances himself from her. Her roommate presumes that there must be something wrong with her and insists that “it’s not aptitude, it’s how you’re viewed” as she performs a makeover to help her become more mainstream. Glinda gets mad at her one time friend for “stealing” the man over whom she swooned when he chooses her for her personality over Glinda’s presentation. The wizard and his inner circle attempt to strongarm her into immoral acts and then slander her to Ozians when she refuses to take part. The play was positively primeval. After the final curtain, they then had the audacity to stand on stage and petition us for donations to their pet causes. I sat there because it was the genteel thing to do.

Rather than stand back aghast at the unabashed audacity of the author to address wickedness, most of the people will comment on the play itself. While the actors genuinely performed admirably and the songs are catchy, that does not redeem the wickedness of “Wicked”. I remember as a youth people justifying and rationalizing the ruderal by saying, “It’s great except for that one part…” Well, I have often wondered why, if material is inappropriate for children under the age of 13, it’s acceptable for the rest of us. No matter how “popular” the songs are and the score and the acting, it was a smutty story, largely jejune, celebrating malversation over morality. The people in attendance stood in applause. I felt uncomfortable. They seemed to have a good time. I felt out of place. Maybe it was that I was overdressed, having worn a suit.

The one redeeming feature to "Wicked" came in the final act. Glinda, who begins the play as a selfish ingrate and floosy of a woman, remains true to her friend and does what she can to make things right. The actress seemed genuinely sad with how things turned out between her and the wicked witch, despite her best attempts to first persuade her to come along “for fellowship’s sake” and then to warn her against Dorothy’s crusade to kill the witch. I don’t know if that’s true to the story (since I discovered this was based on a book), but it did end the play on as positive of a note as possible. I’m glad I know, because I won’t see it again. I was taught to avoid the appearance of evil, and I’m ashamed a wee bit that I witnessed something “wicked” and felt it was culture. Now I know better.

Voting Irregularities

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Although I am not working the election this time around, I have been at the precincts almost every election since moving to Vegas. Voting irregularities are common, a combination of shoddy education, volunteerism, and electronic gadgets. It takes attentiveness from both poll workers as well as workers to make sure that these irregularities are minimized. Even if they are not intentional, they are too common.

Already, instances in four states indicate abundance of irregularities. I find it interesting that in almost every reported case, including the ones about which I have read so far today, the beneficiary is always the Democrat party. Having worked the polls previously, I have had to recalibrate machines when the screen is not aligned with the selections. Although it is not systemic, it happens more often than it should, and the voters who told me details were all GOPers whose votes were recorded for the DEM opponent instead. In Nevada, we have a paper copy as well which reflects what the digital copy records. However, I have long been leery of digital records, because I remember a time when digital photos were inadmissible in court because they were easily altered. Well, I think the same of voting records, and I advise people to double check and make sure the paper copy reflects their selections accurately.

Part of the problem is also the people. Some voters don't notice. Some don't care. Some don't tell us. I can't fix a problem unless I know about it. Then there are the poll workers. These are people who are otherwise usually not occupied who trade their day for $120. They get about four hours of training (which I think can be accomplished in 20 minutes), but the money and the training and the people themselves are just not all that motivated to make sure that the election is accurate. They are not paid enough to care. They are also usually not educated enough to care. The people I saw this morning were nice, but they were NOT my peers in any way, least of all intellectually, and they parroted the trite phrases I remember they taught us to say in election worker training, but I doubt they know the first thing about fixing machine errors. Fortunately I had none.

If someone wanted to take advantage of fraud as appears to be the case, this is the perfect recipe. Hire uneducated people who are randomly selected from the voter rolls. Pay them a wage low enough that most people of means and intellect will abstain. Give them electronic gadgets that they couldn't even begin to comprehend let alone build. Then, throw a glitch into the machine, and viola- disaster for your opponents. It would be easy to steal the election when the people available to vouchsafe it are not people you would normally trust to pour piss out of a boot even with instructions written on the heel. Four years ago, I recalibrated eight of the 16 machines at our polling place, swapped out four printers that jammed, and took one machine completely out of service. It was a disaster. I don't think most of the other people at the polls would be able to handle that.

Ultimately, voting irregularities must be solved by voters. We do this by paying attention at the polls. We do this by peppering elected officials with our communiques until they view us as pests. We do this by paying attention to them and throwing bums like John McCain (R-AZ) out of office when they redact all their campaign promises. We do this by running for office ourselves. After all, you are the only person with whom you agree 100% politically. They need to be noted; they need to be punished. Eternal vigilance is the price of freedom.