Life Lesson# 45893 = Always check your child's homework before it gets to school!

 

 

When asked to draw a picture of what they wanted to be when they grew up, second-grader "Sarah" turned in the lovely drawing shown below.  Needless to say, the teacher was a bit surprised -- Mrs. Smith had always seemed like such a conservative woman.  So she sent a note home to the girl's mother asking for clarification as to the picture's meaning.  (read Mom's reply below the picture)

 

 

 

(Here's the reply the teacher received the following day)

 

Dear Mrs. Jones,

 

I wish to clarify that I am not now, nor have I ever been, an exotic dancer.

 

I work at Home Depot and I told my daughter how hectic it was last week before the blizzard hit.  I told her we sold out every single shovel we had, and then I found one more in the back room, and that several people were fighting over who would get it.    Her picture doesn't show me dancing around a pole.  It's supposed to depict me selling the last snow shovel we had at Home Depot.

 

From now on I will remember to check her homework more thoroughly before she turns it in.

 

Sincerely,

 

Mrs.  Smith

 

 

 

Dear Santa,

I've been a good mom all year. I've fed, cleaned and cuddled my children on
demand, visited the doctor's office more than my doctor, sold sixty-two
cases of candy bars to raise money to plant a shade tree on the school
playground. I was hoping you could spread my list out over several
Christmases, since I had to write this letter with my son's red crayon, on
the back of a receipt in the laundry room between cycles, and who knows when
I'll find any more free time in the next 18 years.
Here are my Christmas wishes:
     I'd like a pair of legs that don't ache (in any color, except purple,
which I already have) and arms that don't hurt or flap in the breeze; but
are strong enough to pull my screaming child out of the candy aisle in the
grocery store.
     I'd also like a waist, since I lost mine somewhere in the seventh month
of my last pregnancy.
     If you're hauling big ticket items this year I'd like fingerprint
resistant windows and a radio that only plays adult
music; a television that doesn't broadcast any programs containing talking
animals; and a refrigerator with a secret compartment behind the crisper
where I can hide to talk on the phone.
     On the practical side, I could use a talking doll that says, "Yes,
Mommy" to boost my parental confidence, along with two kids who don't fight
and three pairs of jeans that will zip all the way up without the use of
power tools.
     I could also use a recording of Tibetan monks chanting "Don't eat in
the living room" and "Take your hands off your brother," because my voice
seems to be just out of my children's hearing range and can only be heard by
the dog.
     If it's too late to find any of these products, I'd settle for enough
time to brush my teeth and comb my hair in the same morning, or the luxury
of eating food warmer than room temperature without it being served in a
Styrofoam container.
     If you don't mind, I could also use a few Christmas miracles to
brighten the holiday season. Would it be too much trouble to declare ketchup
a vegetable? It will clear my conscience immensely.
     It would be helpful if you could coerce my children to help around the
house without demanding payment as if they were the bosses of an organized
crime family.
     Well, Santa, the buzzer on the dryer is ringing and my son saw my feet
under the laundry room door. I think he wants his crayon back.
     Have a safe trip and remember to leave your wet boots by the door and
come in and dry off so you don't catch cold. Help yourself to cookies on the
table but don't eat too many or leave crumbs on the carpet.

Yours Always,
MOM
P.S. One more thing...you can cancel all my requests if you can keep my
children young enough to believe in Santa for many years to come.

 

And it's winter before we know it....

You know, time has a way of moving quickly and catching you unaware of the passing years.

It seems just yesterday that I was young, just married and embarking on my new life with my mate.   And yet in a way, it seems like eons ago, and I wonder where all the years went.  I know that I lived them all...

And I have glimpses of how it was back then and of all my hopes and dreams... But, here it is..the winter of my life and it catches me by surprise... How did I get here so fast? Where did the years go and where did my babies go? And where did my youth go?

I remember well.. seeing older people through the years and thinking that those older people were years away from me and that winter was so far off that I could not fathom it or imagine fully what it would be like...  But, here it is...my friends are retired and really getting gray...they move slower and I see an older person now. Lots are in better shape than me... but, I see the great change...  Not like the ones that I remember who were young and vibrant... but, like me, their age is beginning to show and we are now those older folks that we used to see and never thought we'd be.

Each day now, I find that just getting a shower is a real target for the day!  And taking a nap is not a treat anymore...it's mandatory!  Cause if I don't on my own free will...I just fall asleep where I sit!

And so, now I enter into this new season of my life unprepared for all the aches and pains and the loss of strength and ability to go and do things that I wish I had done but never did!! 

But, at least I know, that though the winter has come, and I'm not sure how long it will last...this I know, that when it's over...its over....Yes , I have regrets. There are things I wish I hadn't done ,,,,,things I should have done, but indeed, there are many things I'm happy to have done.  It's all in a lifetime....

So, if you're not in your winter yet...let me remind you, that it will be here faster than you think.

"Life is a gift to you. The way you live your life is your gift to those who come after. Make it a fantastic one."

 

Dear Walter,

 

I hope you can help me here. The other day, I set off for work leaving my husband in the house watching the TV as usual. I hadn't driven more than a mile down the road when the engine conked out and the car shuddered to a halt. I walked back home to get my husband's help. When I got home I couldn't believe my eyes. He was in our bedroom with the neighbors' daughter. I'm 32, my husband is 34, and the neighbors' daughter is 22. We have been married for ten years.

 

When I confronted him, he broke down and admitted that they had been having an affair for the past six months. I told him to stop or I'd leave him. He was let go from his job six months ago and he says he has been feeling increasingly depressed and worthless. I love him very much, but ever since I gave him the ultimatum he has become increasingly distant. He won't go to counseling and I'm afraid I can't get through to him an ymore.

 

Can you please help?

 

Sincerely, Sheila
******************************

 

Dear Sheila:

 

A car stalling after being driven a short distance can be caused by a variety of faults with the engine. Start by checking that there is no debris in the fuel line. If it's clear, check the vacuum pipes and hoses on the intake manifold and also check all grounding wires.. If none of these approaches solves the problem, it could be that the fuel pump itself is faulty, causing low delivery pressure to the injectors.

 

I hope this helps,

 

WALTER

 

WET PANTS

 

 

 

Come with me to a third grade classroom..... There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives.

 

The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, 'Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I'm dead meat.'

 

He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered.

 

As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy's lap.

 

The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, 'Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!' Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else - Susie.

 

She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. You've done enough, you klutz!'

 

Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, 'You did that on purpose, didn't you?' Susie whispers back, 'I wet my pants once too.'

 

May God help us see the opportunities that are always around us to do good..

 

• Why we vote on Tuesday... and other election fun facts

You've studied the issues and cast your ballot. Now all that's left to do is bide your time until the results start coming in for John McCain and Barack Obama. To help you in that effort, we introduce a list of election fun facts for your brain-candy pleasure.

Why do we vote on a Tuesday... in November?

The short answer: We used to be a nation of farmers. 

The long answer: Congress chose November because the harvest was over and the weather wouldn't be bad enough to prevent people from traveling.

As for Tuesday, people used to have to travel overnight to their polling location. (In 1845, horse was the preferred method of transport.) In an effort to avoid religious days of rest, Congress chose Tuesday, leaving Monday and Wednesday as travel days. Tuesday was voting (and horse-resting) day.

Our partners at CNN give us this fun video with more deets:

 

Presidential campaigns vs. potato chips

This one comes courtesy of George Will's column:

The Center for Responsive Politics calculates that, by Election Day, $2.4 billion will have been spent on presidential campaigns in the two-year election cycle that began in January 2007, and an additional $2.9 billion will have been spent on 435 House and 35 Senate contests. This $5.3 billion is a billion less than Americans will spend this year on potato chips.

No Yalies, Bushes or Clintons on the ticket

This is the first election since 1980 that a Bush or a Clinton hasn't been on the ticket.

And this one is courtesy NBC's First Read:

This will be the first time in 40 years that Yale will not have one of its former students on the ballot as president or vice president. Not since Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew battled Hubert H. Humphrey and Edmund Muskie in 1968 has Yale been shut out.

Election Day freebies

Did you know that a series of national vendors are giving stuff to voters? They are. Who knew that the "I Voted" sticker was worth more than the pride of knowing you cast your ballot?

Starbucks is giving away a tall cup of brewed coffee on the house. (I guess that means my beloved chai latte is still on me.)

Between 5 and 8pm, Ben and Jerry's is celebrating democracy by giving away a free scoop of ice cream.

Krispy Kreme is giving away a star-shaped doughnut with "patriotic sprinkles" to anyone wearing an "I Voted" sticker.

God bless democracy, huh?

 

Due to increasing age, forgetfulness, and my decreasing ability to send cards on time here is my card to cover every Holiday.

 

 Happy Everything!

ONCE IN AWHILE SOME REALLY GREAT E-MAIL COMES THRU -

 THIS IS ONE OF THEM

 

Click here

An old one that's funny enough to read again.

 

 

 

Just try reading this without laughing till you cry!!! > Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who > purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their > anniversary submitted this: > > Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & > Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our > 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something > extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a > 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the > taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term > adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time > to retreat to safety....?? > > WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and > brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn > thing and pushed the button. Nothing! > > I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed > the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the > same time; I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting > back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!! Unfortunately, > I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the > face of her microwave. > > Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to > myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two > triple-A batteries, right? > > There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on > intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the > directions and thinking that I really needed to try this > thing out on a flesh & blood moving target. I must > admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a > second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. > But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect > herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it > would work as advertised. Am I wrong? > > So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my > reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, > directions in one hand, and taser in another. The > directions said that a one-second burst would shock and > disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to > cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a > three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant > flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst > longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries. > > All the while I'm looking at this little device > measuring about 5' long, less than 3/4 inch in > circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, > bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no > possible way!' > > What happened next is almost beyond description, but > I'll do my best...? > > I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her > head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it > dipshit,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a > tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad. I > decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of > it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the > button, and . . . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS > DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!! > > I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side > door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us > both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely > recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with > tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, > testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under > my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs? > > The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, > clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, > obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body > flopping all over the living room. > > Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself > with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as > a one second burst when you zap yourself! You will not let > go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a > violent thrashing about on the floor . . . A three second > burst would be considered conservative? > > IT HURT LIKE HELL!!! > > A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a > relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what > little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My > bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. > The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from > where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both > nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been > shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I > had no control over the drooling. Apparently I pooped on > myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of > smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head > which I believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for > my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their > safe return!! > > P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens > me with it! > > 'If you think education is difficult, try being > stupid.' > > >

 

These are  great...

 

 ANGELS EXPLAINED BY CHILDREN

I only know the names of two angels, Hark and Harold.
 ~~~Gregory, 5

Everybody's got it all wrong. Angels don't wear halos anymore. I forget why, but scientists are working on it.
 ~~~Olive, 9

It's not easy to become an angel! First, you die. Then you go to Heaven, and then there's still the flight training to go through. And then you got to agree to wear those angel clothes.
 ~~~Matthew, 9

Angels work for God and watch over kids when God has to go do something else.
 ~~~Mitchell, 7

My guardian angel helps me with math, but he's not much good for science.
 ~~~Henry, 8

Angels don't eat, but they Dr ink milk from Holy Cows!!!
 ~~~Jack, 6

When an angel gets mad, he takes a deep breath and counts to ten. And when he lets out his breath, somewhere there's a tornado.
 ~~~Reagan, 10

Angels have a lot to do and they keep very busy. If you lose a tooth, an angel comes in through your window and leaves money under your pillow.
Then when it gets cold, angels go south for the winter.
 ~~~Sara, 6

Angels live in cloud houses made by God and his son, who's a very good carpenter.
 ~~~Jared, 8

All angels are girls because they gotta wear dresses and boys didn't go for it.
 ~~~Antonio, 9

My angel is my grandma who died last year. She got a big head start on helping me while she was still down here on earth.
 ~~~Lynn, 9

Some of the ang els are in charge of helping heal sick animals and pets.
And if they don't make the animals get better, they help the child get over it.
 ~~~Vicki, 8

What I don't get about angels is why, w hen someone is in love, they shoot arrows at them.
 ~~~ Sarah, 7

Angels talk all the way while they're flying you up to heaven. The main subject is where you went wrong before you got dead.
 ~~~Daniel, 9

 

 

 

A 1st grade school teacher had twenty-six students in her class.  She presented each child in her classroom the 1st half of a well-known proverb and asked them to come up with the remainder of the proverb.  It's hard to believe these were actually done by first graders. Their insight may surprise you.  While reading, keep in mind that these are first-graders, 6-year-olds, because the last one is a classic!

1.	Don't change horses	until they stop running.
2.	Strike while the	bug is close.
3.	It's always darkest before	Daylight Saving Time.
4.	Never underestimate the power of	termites.
5.	You can lead a horse to water but	How?
6.	Don't bite the hand that	looks dirty.
7.	No news is	impossible
8.	A miss is as good as a	Mr.
9.	You can't teach an old dog new	Math
10.	If you lie down with dogs, you'll	stink in the morning.
11.	Love all, trust	Me.
12.	The pen is mightier than the	pigs.
13.	An idle mind is	the best way to relax.
14.	Where there's smoke there's	pollution.
15.	Happy the bride who	gets all the presents.
16.	A penny saved is	not much.
17.	Two's company, three's	the Musketeers.
18.	Don't put off till tomorrow what	you put on to go to bed.
19.	Laugh and the whole world laughs with you, cry and	You have to blow your nose.
20.	There are none so blind as	Stevie Wonder.
21.	Children should be seen and not	spanked or grounded.
22.	If at first you don't succeed	get new batteries.
23.	You get out of something only what you	See in the picture on the box
24.	When the blind lead the blind	get out of the way.
25.	A bird in the hand	is going to poop on you.

 

 

 

 

545 PEOPLE

By Charlie Reese

 

Politicians are the only people in the world who create problems and then campaign against them.

 

Have you ever wondered why, if both the Democrats and the Republicans are against deficits,  WHY do we have deficits?

 

Have you ever wondered why, if all the politicians are against inflation and high taxes, WHY do we have inflation and high taxes?

 

You and I don't propose a federal budget.  The president does.

 

You and I don't have the Constitutional authority to vote on appropriations.   The House of Representatives does.

 

You and I don't write the tax code, Congress does.

 

You and I don't set fiscal policy, Congress does.

 

You and I don't control monetary policy, the Federal Reserve Bank does.

 

One hundred senators, 435 congressmen, one president, and nine Supreme Court justices 545 human beings out of the 300 million are directly, legally, morally, and individually responsible for the domestic problems that plague this country.

 

I excluded the members of the Federal Reserve Board because that problem was created by the Congress.   In 1913, Congress delegated its Constitutional duty to provide a sound currency to a federally chartered, but private, central bank.

 

I excluded all the special interests and lobbyists for a sound reason.   They have no legal authority.   They have no ability to coerce a senator, a congressman, or a president to do one cotton-picking thing.   I don't care if they offer a politician $1 million dollars in cash.   The politician has the power to accept or reject it.   No matter what the lobbyist promises, it is the legislator's responsibility to determine how he votes.

 

Those 545 human beings spend much of their energy convincing you that what they did is not their fault.   They cooperate in this common congame regardless of party.

 

What separates a politician from a normal human being is an excessive amount of gall.   No normal human being would have the gall of a Speaker, who stood up and criticized the President for creating deficits.   The president can only propose a budget.   He cannot force the Congress to accept it.

 

The Constitution, which is the supreme law of the land, gives sole responsibility to the House of Representatives for originating and approving appropriations and taxes.   Who is the speaker of the House?   She is the leader of the majority party.    She and fellow House members, not the president, can approve any budget they want.   If the president vetoes it, they can pass it over his veto if they agree to.

 

It seems inconceivable to me that a nation of 300 million cannot replace 545 people who stand convicted -- by present facts -- of incompetence and irresponsibility;  I can't think of a single domestic problem that is not traceable directly to those 545 people.   When you fully grasp the plain truth that 545 people exercise the power of the federal government, then it must follow that what exists is what they want to exist.

 

If the tax code is unfair, it's because they want it unfair.

 

If the budget is in the red, it's because they want it in the red.

 

If the Army & Marines are in IRAQ , it's because they want them in IRAQ .

 

If they do not receive social security but are on an elite retirement plan not available to the people, it's because they want it that way .

 

There are no insoluble government problems.

 

Do not let these 545 people shift the blame to bureaucrats, whom they hire and whose jobs they can abolish; to lobbyists, whose gifts and advice they can reject; to regulators, to whom they give the power to regulate and from whom they can take this power.   Above all, do not let them con you into the belief that there exists disembodied mystical forces like "the economy", "inflation", or "politics" that prevent them from doing what they take an oath to do.

 

Those 545 people, and they alone, are responsible .

 

They, and they alone, have the power.

 

They, and they alone, should be held accountable by the people who are their bosses provided the voters have the gumption to manage their own employees.

 

We should vote all of them out of office and clean up their mess!

 

Charlie Reese is a former columnist of the Orlando Sentinel Newspaper.  What you do with this article now that you have read it is up to you, though you appear to have several choices.

 

1.     You can send this to everyone in your address book, and hope "they" do something about it.

 

2.     You can agree to "vote against" everyone that is currently in office, knowing that the process will take several years.

 

3.     You can decide to "run for office" yourself and agree to do the job properly.

 

4.     Lastly, you can sit back and do nothing, or re-elect the current bunch.

 

YOU DECIDE, BUT AT LEAST SEND IT TO EVERYONE IN YOUR ADDRESS BOOK, MAYBE SOMEONE IN THERE WILL DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!

 

 

 

HOW TRUE!!! They may appear honest when they are running but once they get into office, they realize how easy they can line their pockets on our buck...  With the choices we have to choose from, leaves a person scratching our heads... So, we vote for the lesser of the evils, knowing none of them are worth their salt...

 

 

 

1. A man comes into the ER and yells, 'My wife's going to have her baby in the cab!' I grabbed my stuff, rushed out to the cab, lifted the lady's dress, and began to take off her under- wear.  Suddenly I noticed that there were several cabs ---and I was in the wrong one.
 
Submitted by Dr. Mark MacDonald, San Francisco
 
2. At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and slightly deaf female patient's anterior chest wall. 'Big breaths,' I instructed. 'Yes, they used to be,' replied the patient.
 
Submitted by Dr. Richard Byrnes, Seattle, WA
 
3. One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I told a Wife that her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct. Not more than five minutes later, I heard her reporting to the rest of the family that he had died of a 'massive internal fart.'
 
Submitted by Dr. Susan Steinberg
 
4. During a patient's two week follow-up appointment with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he was having trouble with one of his medications. 'Which one?' I  asked. 'The patch, the Nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm running out of places to put it!' I had him quickly undress and discovered what I hoped I wouldn't see. Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body!  Now, the instructions include removal of the old patch before applying a new one.
 
Submitted by Dr. Rebecca St. Clair, Norfolk , VA
 
5. While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, 'How long have you been bedridden?' After a look of complete confusion she answered,.'Why, not for about twenty years - when my husband was alive.'
 
Submitted by Dr. Steven Swanson- Corvallis, OR
 
6. I was performing rounds at the hospital one morning and while checking up on a woman I asked, 'So how's your breakfast this morning?'  'It's very good, except for the Kentucky Jelly. I can't seem to get used to the taste' the patient replied. I then asked to see the jelly and the woman produced a foil packet labeled 'KY Jelly.'
 
Submitted by Dr. Leonard Kransdorf, Detroit, MI
 
7. A nurse was on duty in the Emergency Room when a young woman with purple hair styled into a punk rocker Mohawk, sporting a variety of tattoos and wearing strange clothing, entered.. It was quickly determined that the patient had acute appendicitis, so she was scheduled for immediate surgery. When she was completely disrobed on the operating table, the staff noticed that her pubic hair had been dyed green, and above it there was a tattoo that read, 'Keep off the grass.'  Once the surgery was completed, the surgeon wrote a short note on the patient's dressing, which said, 'Sorry, had to mow the lawn.'
 
Submitted by RN no name
 
AND FINALLY!!!................
 
8. As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB , I was quite embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams.. To cover my embarrassment I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly. The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing and further embarrassing me. I looked up from my work and sheepishly said, 'I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?' She replied, 'No doctor, but the song you were whistling was, 'I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener'.
 
Dr. wouldn't submit his name

I had not seen or heard about this before. It's really sad that the rags we call newspapers are only reporting for their own agenda.      

 

 

Military Losses, 1980 thru 2007

Whatever your politics, however you lean, and however you feel about the current administration, this report should open some eyes. Military losses, 1980 through 2007.

As tragic as the loss of any member of the US Armed Forces is, consider the following statistics:
The annual fatalities of military members while actively serving in the armed forces from 1980 through 2007 - by any cause

1980 .... ...... 2,392 ( Carter Year )
1981 ......... 2,380 ( Reagan Year)
1984 .......... 1,999 ( Reagan Year)
1988 ......... 1,819 ( Reagan Year)
1989 .......... 1,636 ( George H W Year )
1990 ......... 1,508 ( George H W Year )
1991 .......... 1,787 ( George H W Year )
1992 .......... 1,293 ( George H W Year )
1993 ........ 1,213 ( Clinton Year)
1994 .......... 1,07 5 ( Clinton Year)
1995 ......... 2,465 ( Clinton Year)
1996 .......... 2,318 ( Clinton Year)
1997 .......... 817 ( Clinton Year)
1998 .......... 2,252 ( Clinton Year)
1999 .......... 1,984 ( Clinton Year)
2000 .........1,983 ( Clinton Year)
2001 ............ 890 ( George W Year )
2002 ......... 1,007 ( George W Year )
2003 .......... 1,410 ( George W Year )
2004 ......... 1,887 ( George W Year )
2005 ............ 919 ( George W Year )
2006............. 920 ( George W Year )
2007............ 899 ( George W Year )

Clinton  years (1993-2000):    14,107 deaths
George W years (2001-2007): 7,932 deaths

If you are surprised when you look at these figures, so was I. These figures mean that the loss from the two latest conflicts in the Middle East Are LESS than the loss of military personnel during Bill Clinton's presidency when  America  wasn't even involved in a war! (Unless you include  Bosnia or the disgrace of Mogadishu,  Somalia  when  Clinton  failed to respond to terrorists; Remember 'Blackhawk Down'?)

And, I was even more shocked when I read that in 1980, during the reign of President (Nobel Peace Prize winner) Jimmy Carter, there were 2,392  US  military fatalities! From what? How? (several of these was due to the failed attempt to get our people out of Iran after they were taken hostage)

I think that these figures indicate that many members of our Media and our Politicians will pick and choose the information on which they report. Of course we all know that they present only those 'facts' which support their agenda-driven reporting. But why do so many of them march in lock-step to twist the truth? Where do so many of them get their agenda? Obviously there is one shared agenda. Could it be from the most powerful Democrat family of the decade?

Do you want further proof? Consider the latest census of Americans. It shows the following FACTS about the distribution of American citizens, by race:

European descent .........................69.12%
Hispanic............... ..................      12.5%
Black ................... ..............         12.3%
Asian......................................          3.7%
Native American............................   1.0%
Other.....................................           2.6%

Many of the media lead us to feel the military death ratio is off balance compared to the distribution by race in America. Here are the fatalities by RACE over the past three years in Iraqi Freedom. Do the comparison yourself.

European descent (white) ... .......74.31%
Hispanic............................          10.74%
Black . ...........................              9.67%
Asian...............................              1.81%
Native American.....................       1.09%
Other..............................               0.33%

I was surprised again. Our mainstream media continues to spin these figures (for political gain). Nothing more. It's all about politics.

I hope that between now and November, intelligent Americans can decipher the facts from the spin, the spinners from the leaders, those who seek even more power from those that seek justice, and the dividers from the uniters.

Over the next months let's be good listeners and see and hear who tries to divide our nation; and who wants to unite our nation; who wants to control how our money is spent and who wants our money spent the way we would spend it. Who seeks power and who seeks justice? Who spins the facts and who is genuine.

( These statistics are published by Congressional Research Service, and they may be confirmed by anyone at:
http://www.fas.org/sgp/crs/natsec/RL32492.pdf

)

 

 

 

Slow down for three minutes to read this. It is so worth it. Touching words from the mouths of babes. What does 'Love' mean?

 

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, 'What does 'love' mean?' The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

 

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'When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.

 

So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.' Rebecca- age 8

 

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'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.' Billy - age 4

 

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'Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.' Karl - age 5

 

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'Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.' Chrissy - age 6

 

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'Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.' Terri - age 4

 

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'Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.' Danny - age 7

 

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'Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss' Emily - age 8

 

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'Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.' Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)

 

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'If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,'

 

Nikka - age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)

 

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'Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.' Noelle - age 7

 

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'Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.' Tommy - age 6

 

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'During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.

 

He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.' Cindy - age 8

 

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'My mommy loves me more than anybody

 

You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.' C lare - age 6

 

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'Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.' Elaine-age 5

 

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'Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.' C hris - age 7

 

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'Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day' Mary Ann - age 4

 

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'I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.' Lauren - age 4

 

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'When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.' (what an image) Karen - age 7

 

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'You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.' Jessica - age 8

 

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And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge.

 

The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

 

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.

 

Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

 

When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, 'Nothing, I just helped him cry'

 

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When there is nothing left,    that is when you find out that  love is all you need.

A President's pension currently is $191,300 per year.

Assuming the next President lives to age 80. Sen McCain  would receive ZERO pension as he would reach 80 at the end  of two terms as President. Sen Obama would be retired for
26 years after two terms and would receive $4,973,800 in  pension.  Therefore it would certainly make economic sense to elect  McCain in November.

 How's that for non-partisan thinking???

Guess we are partly to blame for putting them there.

 

Dear Boss,

 

I have enjoyed working here these past several years. You have paid me very well, given me benefits beyond belief. I have 3-4 months off per year and a pension plan that will pay my salary till the day I die and a health plan that most people can only dream about.

Despite this I plan to take the next 12-18 months to find a new position.

During this time I will show up for work when it is convenient. In addition I fully expect to draw my full salary and all the other perks associated with my current job.

Oh yeah, if my search for this new job proves fruitless, I will be back with no loss in pay or status. Before you say anything, remember that you have no choice in the matter. I can and will do this.

Sincerely, Every Senator or Congressman running for President.

Now, try that at YOUR job and tell me how it works.

 

 

 

Your life.......explained!

On the first day, God created the dog and said:
Sit all day by the door of your house and bark at
anyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will
give you a life span of twenty years."

The dog said:
"That's a long time to be barking. How about only
ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?"
So God agreed.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said: "Entertain 
people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a 
twenty-year life span."

The monkey said:
"Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty
long time to perform. How about I give you back ten
like the Dog did?"

And God agreed.

On the third day, God created the cow and said:
"You must go into the field with the farmer all day
long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give
milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will
give you a life span of sixty years"

The cow said:
"That's kind of a tough life you want me to live
for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back
the other forty?"

And God agreed again.

On the fourth day, God created man and said:
"Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For
this, I'll give you twenty years."

But man said:
"Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my
twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the
monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, 
okay?"

"Okay," said God,

You asked for it."

So that is why the first twenty years we eat, sleep, play and enjoy
ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support
our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain
the grandchildren.
And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at
everyone.

Life has now been explained to you.

 

 

 

 

Carl's Garden

 

Carl was a quiet man.  He didn't talk much.  He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake.

 

Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.

 

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us.

 

He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII.

 

Watching him, we worried t hat although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs and drug activity.

 

When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.

 

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened.

 

He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him.  Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, 'Would you like a drink from the hose?'

 

The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, 'Yeah, sure,' with a malevolent little smile.

 

As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down.  As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.  Carl tried to get himself up but he had been thrown down on his bad leg.  He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him.

 

Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it.

 

'Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?' the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.

 

Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.  'Just some punk kids.  I hope they'll wise-up someday.'

 

His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose.  He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

 

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, 'Carl, what are you doing?'  'I've got to finish my watering.  It's been very dry lately,' came the calm reply.

 

Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel.  Carl was a man from a different time and place.

 

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged.  Carl again offered them a drink from his hose.

 

This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water.

 

When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.

 

Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering.

 

The summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him.  He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches.

 

As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him.  He braced himself for the expected attack.

 

'Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time.'

 

The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl.  As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.

 

'What's this?' Carl asked.  'It's your stuff,' the man explained. 'It's your stuff back.   Even the money in your wallet.' 'I don't understand,' Carl said. 'Why would you help me now?'

 

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. 'I learned something from you,' he said. 'I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it.  But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you.  You kept showing love against our hate.'  He stopped for a moment. 'I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back.' He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. 'That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess.' And with that, he walked off down the street.

 

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it.  He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

 

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter.  Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather.

 

In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.

 

The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life.

 

In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, 'Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden.'

 

The following spring another flyer went up. It read: 'Person needed to care for Carl's garden.'

 

The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door.

 

Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. 'I believe this is my job, if you'll have me,' the young man said.

 

The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl.

 

He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, 'Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him.'

 

The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the  flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done.

 

During that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community.  But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

 

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer  He explained with a shy and happy smile, 'My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday.'

 

'Well, cong ratulations!' said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys.  'That's wonderful!  What's the baby's name?'

 

'Carl,' he replied.

 

 

'Keep your fork .... The best is yet to come'' 

 

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live.  So as she was getting her things In order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

 

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what Scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

 

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

 

'There's one more thing,'  she said excitedly.

 

'What's that?' came the Pastor's reply.

 

'This is very important,' the young woman continued. 'I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.'

 

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

 

'That surprises you, doesn't it?' the young woman asked.

 

'Well, to be honest,  I'm puzzled by the request,' said the Pastor.

 

The young woman explained. 'My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along.  Its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement.  In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming, like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie.  Something wonderful and with substance!

 

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder 'What's  with the fork?' Then I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork .... The best is yet to come''

 

The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye.  He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death.  But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did.  She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and  knowledge. She KNEW that something better was coming.

 

At the funeral  people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard  the question, 'What's with the fork?' And over and over he smiled.

 

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died.  He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her.  He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.

 

He was right. So the next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and  they always want to open their hearts to us.

 

Show your friends how much  you care Remember to always be there for them, even when you need them more. For  you never know when it may be their time to 'Keep your fork.'

 

Cherish the time you have, and the memories you share.  Being friends with someone is not an opportunity but a sweet responsibility.