Oh story time!!!! How I love to tell these tales. It is cathartic to get this down in text after living it for a number of days. This is a little ditty about getting my new tags.
For the three people that read this, I think one of you makes their residence in Missouri so you are probably familiar with this story. Every year or two, depending on what you are willing to pay, the State of Missouri wants to extra a little fee from you. This racket, and I don't use that term loosely, is set up under the auspices of public safety. The Missouri Department of Transportation wants to keep our roads safe and this is the only way to insure this. What a joke. While Kansas may lack in some things, at least they have the smarts to just make you pay for the tags rather than jump through the bureaucratic red tape that makes people resent government.
Here's the deal. It starts with a notice from the state saying you need to renew your tags soon. One word of advice, do this as soon as possible because it might take you months to get all this worked out. So, first you have to find the last two years of your personal property tax. This was easy and is a funny reminder of how much I've already paid to the county this year and last year and last year and last year. My next move, was to drive around on expired tags for three months. While it didn't seem like a terrible idea while I wasn't getting tickets, when it rains it pours, and I got three in a week. So now the motivation is there to get this done.
You might be asking, "Ben, why did it take you so long to get your tags?"
Good question. The answer is that my car had a bad left front tire that needed replacing, the wipers weren't great, and I was pretty sure something was wrong with my front steering or suspension.
"Why does that matter?"
Another good one. Well, in Missouri once you get the inspection, if the car fails you need to get it fixed before they will pass it for inspection or find a mechanic that will pass you regardless. Those are much harder to find then you might imagine.
After getting the three tickets, I started calling around for inspections. It was going to take a least a week so I thought I would just start stopping by places. Last Thursday, Ruby had a dentist appointment so I took off the morning with the intention of getting the inspection and going to the DMV for the tags. An acquaintance of my wife recommended a mechanic down on Independence Ave. If you are not familiar with Independence Avenue, it's basically the same as Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd. in any major city. Before heading off, I went by Tires Plus. I have spent over a grand there in the past year on tires and such so I thought this would be a good place to start, plus they open at 7:00am. My arrival was right on time but come to find out the mechanic that does inspections won't be there until 10:00am and won't get to my car until the afternoon, but I am more than welcome to leave it for the day. Thanks but no thanks, I have things to do and they don't work with me walking or riding a bike.
Well, let's go down to the hood and give Mr. Shady's a try. I roll in there right on time and who would have thought, their mechanic who does inspections doesn't come in until 1:00pm. I am in the wrong profession, the inspection mechanic has a sweet deal and basically makes his own hours. This place does look suspicious at best. It's literally, just a old building, with a tiny parking lot, no signage, no hours on the door, no air conditioning, no television to watch Judge Judy, and all the magazines are in Chinese. The receptionist/mechanic/owner tells me to come back at 1:00.
So I go get Ruby, we hit up the dentist, I drop her back off and I start searching for another mechanic.
"I can't until Friday."
"Next week at the earliest."
"You will have to make an appointment."
Well, 1:00pm arrives and I roll back to China Town. The tiny parking lot is packed, cars almost on top of each other. I go inside and the waiting room is like the United Nations. English as a first language was only particular to me. So I walk up front and ask again how long for an inspection. Mind you, I was told that they will take $25 bucks cash, sign the papers, and send you on your way.
"Can you come back at 4:30?"
To my disappointment this is not as disreputable as I had hoped. I'm actually pissed at people being honest, I have got to chill out.
So I roll back to Parkville, taking back roads, all the while stopping at any shop that has the Missouri Inspection Decal on the window. At the last place I went a gentleman tells me if I can have it there at 7:30am in the morning he will do it. Sold.
At this point it's 2:00pm and I have had to call in and say I'm not making it in today. The YMCA is really close to where I was and a good hard run will eliminate some of this tension and keep me from exploding. When I get there, I happen across an old wrestling buddy and I relate my story to him.
"Have you tried Glen's in Parkville?"
"No."
"You just pull around back and they do it like an oil change, no appointment necessary."
Hot damn, I skip the workout and head to Glen's. They have two pull through bays in the back and they pull me right in. I am getting excited already. It's two young guys and they get started right away. One wrench wrestler comes in and I can tell I didn't pass.
"You need a new left front tire and inner tie rod ends. We can do it upstairs in the shop for around $600."
He had better be high or I better have misheard him.
"$600."
"Thanks for your help guys."
At this point I'm at least happy to have a failing inspection paper because if I get stopped at least I can plead to the fact that I'm trying to get this done. It worked once the previous day when I got pulled over by a motorcycle cop and I showed him my other tickets and he let me go. What compassion. So I decided that God gave me a extremely capable mechanic for a father-in-law it's time to ask him for help. So I go to NAPA and pick up tie rods for $80 bucks. I call him up and he says he can help. Once at his house, he helps me, but we get stuck on how to get the inner tie rod off. After we struggle for awhile he leaves to go get a "part". I go inside and google how to do this. Mind you that took half an hour because they live in the boonies and it's almost like using dial-up. Using dial-up would normally be the worst part of my day, but not this day.
So I go back outside and try to figure out how to fix this. Around the same time my father-in-law is back working on the left front.
"Hey, I was looking on google and it looks like they make a part specifically for this job."
"Like this one jackass?" As he holds up the exact part I was just looking at. "I rented it at AutoZone and will take it back when we're done."
I say "we", but in all reality my participation in this fix, was passing him parts, keeping small children from crawling under a car on jack stands, and mostly trying to stay the hell out of his way.
After spending an hour busting knuckles trying to change the tie-rods on the first one, it takes like fifteen minutes on the right side. Now, I am halfway to getting my car passed for inspection. I go to Tires Plus again and take in my tire and they can have it for me tomorrow.
So I go to work on Friday, taking my wife's car, and having her drive mine with the donut on. They call me around 10:00am to say the new tire is on. I leave work and race to get this mission done. I get the tire, take off the spare, put on the new one and head back to Glen's, because now I should pass. One quick note, when changing your tie-rods go to great pains to remember where things were aligned before. If not you will have a car that feels like you are hammered, driving home from the bars at three in the morning.
Anyway, I get to Glen's they tell me the inspection is good to go, give me the proper paper I need, and suggest strongly that I should get an alignment. I am so pumped at this moment and roll to the DMV. Never in my life have I been so happy to go to the DMV. If I was there for five minutes, it wasn't one second longer. The Parkville DMV did an awesome job and made it the most pleasant experience of this whole ordeal. I got new plates and tags with the caveat that I won't be doing this again for two years, or until my wife needs new tags. Hallelujah.
Why I am so perturbed is the whole ridiculousness of this process. After this many talks with mechanics it's a known fact that for $12 bucks they can't make any money on an inspection and they actually LOSE money doing an inspection. Hence, something has to be wrong with your car, or they have to find something, if they aren't going to lose money and time on this deal. How backwards is that.
Next, having to get tags opens the floodgates for all kinds of petty crimes. Plate theft, illegal tags, tag theft, and expired tags are four of the most common tickets written in the state of Missouri. It is also all the police need to have probable cause and open an entire Pandora's box of legal maneuvering.
IT'S A RACKET!!!!
The State is using the banner of public safety to write more tickets, collect more fees, unduly put more burdens on the lower socio-economic class, and create an atmosphere where shady business and personal practices are the norm rather than the exception.
While I normally like to be somewhat funny in this blog, I was so frustrated by the end of this that the only way for me to get rid of it was type it out.
Thanks for reading this.
Ben
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The sweet science of T-Ball and Cat Herding
"We are the Pink Panthers."
That, my friends, was my first managerial edict for T-ball 2010. This is my first foray into coaching a ball and stick sport. Having coached novice wrestling and YMCA "bitty" soccer, I am used to a more free form sort of play. Having bases, dugouts, innings, catching, hitting, throwing, helmets, basically roles and not to mention weapons, sorry bats, adds a whole new dimension to this sport.
Let's start at the beginning. When you go online to sign your kid up for a sport, they put a little box you can check if you would like to be a coach. Note: if you check that box you will be a coach. They try to make it seem like you "might" be a coach, liars. In my mind, once you click, an immediate, red flagged email goes flying through cyberspace to the program directors inbox. At the same time, their smart phone starts chirping and if they have an assistan,t they come banging on their door. The email notification says, "sucker" in the subject line.
"With great power comes great responsibility." Words to live by from spiderman's grandpa. Side note, most of the advice I've modeled my parenting and coaching from are derived from comic books or gangster rappers. You really can't go wrong with that combination of influence. I'm the texas hold'em of coaching, all in. You have to be. As soon as I got the team roster I sent out an email introducing myself, giving a little background, sharing my coaching philosophy, and generally sharing as much information as possible that will put the parents at ease. We are dealing with 4 and 5 year olds, who most likely, have not played t-ball and are only doing this because their parents signed them up. I can't speak for everyone, but my little one did not come up to me and say, "old man, sign me up for t-ball." Although in hindsight, that would be pretty awesome.
Next, I was sent the schedule of games and I picked up the shirts. As you probably already gathered, pink was the color for us. An email was sent out relaying that information and I got a few interesting emails in reply. There were a total of eight kids on the team, now there are seven and this is great. One concerned parent inquired about this being a coed team. I was under the impression this was a girls team but I told her I would get back to her. She got back with me later that day with an email that her son, Aubrey, would not be playing for us this year. She went on to justify her son's name by saying he was named after his great grandfather and that this is something that she should expect being that this name is becoming common for girls as well. While I appreciate her candor, I would be remiss not to point out that the latest data from the Social Security Administration has Aubrey as the 41st most popular name for females in 2009 and the 938th most popular name for males. That somewhat counters her claim that Aubrey is becoming popular for girls. You named your son a girls name and much like my dude friend Taylor, he is going to be pissed at you forever...seriously.
The next question repeatedly posed was about pants. Either, are they supplied, or what color should we wear. The concern about this kind of surprised me. My little one, plays hard, gets after it, and generally runs first and thinks about stopping last, but I was under no impression that she was going to be sliding into second or diving for a one hopper in the hole. Evidently, a lot of parents have these delusions of their child going Pete Rose and blasting the catcher into the backstop. Pretty heady stuff for a four year old especially given that fact that there is no catcher, stealing, or laying out for a line drive. Anyway, I did my best to waylay those visions of grandeur by stating the my girls will be wearing shorts and if pants are the way they want to go, whatever color you fancy.
On to game time. Make sure you introduce yourself to the other coach. Remember this is for fun and the better attitude and positivity you show to the other coaches and parents, your kids will learn that behavior. The kids, the parents, the grandparents are all looking at you for leadership and guidance. It is of utmost importance for you as the coach to model the way. Next step, everyone runs out to the outfield for pregame pep talk and fear eraser. I like to have all the kids sit and I kneel down as well. I ask them their names, how old they are, and if they have ever played t-ball before. I got one yes, so she's my ringer, and first baseman. By default, if you can almost catch, you are a t-ball stud.
Next comes the most important piece of coaching wizardry, "so I have an idea of the team name." I tell the kids.
"Pink Panthers. What do you think?" If it was nighttime the sound of crickets would be deafening.
"I will take that as a resounding yes."
"Okay guys (note they are girls so try to refer to them as the correct gender, hence gals, I have to work on that) we are going to run the bases. Who knows what base you run to first?"
One hand went up. "First Base." This from my old timer.
"Correct."
"Everyone what base?"
Weakly, "first base."
"I can't hear you. What base?"
Louder, "first base."
My father was a drill sergeant and that does come through to me every once in awhile.
"What base?!"
"FIRST BASE!!!!"
Lastly, I want the kids to feel like a team is something really cool and great to be a part of. So the final thing we do is bring it into a circle and everyone puts their hand in.
"Okay, gals on three we will say Go Pink Panthers. Ready?"
Everyone, "one, two, three, GO PINK PANTHERS!!!"
Two innings later, one skinned knee, one attempt to run to the pitchers mound, and two criers, the game is over and a success.
"Good job kids I will see you next Sunday."
Then a tiny little hand is pulling at my shirt, I turn around and see Jillian looking at me.
"Hey kid what's up?"
"What snack do we get next time?"
The priorities of a four year old.
That, my friends, was my first managerial edict for T-ball 2010. This is my first foray into coaching a ball and stick sport. Having coached novice wrestling and YMCA "bitty" soccer, I am used to a more free form sort of play. Having bases, dugouts, innings, catching, hitting, throwing, helmets, basically roles and not to mention weapons, sorry bats, adds a whole new dimension to this sport.
Let's start at the beginning. When you go online to sign your kid up for a sport, they put a little box you can check if you would like to be a coach. Note: if you check that box you will be a coach. They try to make it seem like you "might" be a coach, liars. In my mind, once you click, an immediate, red flagged email goes flying through cyberspace to the program directors inbox. At the same time, their smart phone starts chirping and if they have an assistan,t they come banging on their door. The email notification says, "sucker" in the subject line.
"With great power comes great responsibility." Words to live by from spiderman's grandpa. Side note, most of the advice I've modeled my parenting and coaching from are derived from comic books or gangster rappers. You really can't go wrong with that combination of influence. I'm the texas hold'em of coaching, all in. You have to be. As soon as I got the team roster I sent out an email introducing myself, giving a little background, sharing my coaching philosophy, and generally sharing as much information as possible that will put the parents at ease. We are dealing with 4 and 5 year olds, who most likely, have not played t-ball and are only doing this because their parents signed them up. I can't speak for everyone, but my little one did not come up to me and say, "old man, sign me up for t-ball." Although in hindsight, that would be pretty awesome.
Next, I was sent the schedule of games and I picked up the shirts. As you probably already gathered, pink was the color for us. An email was sent out relaying that information and I got a few interesting emails in reply. There were a total of eight kids on the team, now there are seven and this is great. One concerned parent inquired about this being a coed team. I was under the impression this was a girls team but I told her I would get back to her. She got back with me later that day with an email that her son, Aubrey, would not be playing for us this year. She went on to justify her son's name by saying he was named after his great grandfather and that this is something that she should expect being that this name is becoming common for girls as well. While I appreciate her candor, I would be remiss not to point out that the latest data from the Social Security Administration has Aubrey as the 41st most popular name for females in 2009 and the 938th most popular name for males. That somewhat counters her claim that Aubrey is becoming popular for girls. You named your son a girls name and much like my dude friend Taylor, he is going to be pissed at you forever...seriously.
The next question repeatedly posed was about pants. Either, are they supplied, or what color should we wear. The concern about this kind of surprised me. My little one, plays hard, gets after it, and generally runs first and thinks about stopping last, but I was under no impression that she was going to be sliding into second or diving for a one hopper in the hole. Evidently, a lot of parents have these delusions of their child going Pete Rose and blasting the catcher into the backstop. Pretty heady stuff for a four year old especially given that fact that there is no catcher, stealing, or laying out for a line drive. Anyway, I did my best to waylay those visions of grandeur by stating the my girls will be wearing shorts and if pants are the way they want to go, whatever color you fancy.
On to game time. Make sure you introduce yourself to the other coach. Remember this is for fun and the better attitude and positivity you show to the other coaches and parents, your kids will learn that behavior. The kids, the parents, the grandparents are all looking at you for leadership and guidance. It is of utmost importance for you as the coach to model the way. Next step, everyone runs out to the outfield for pregame pep talk and fear eraser. I like to have all the kids sit and I kneel down as well. I ask them their names, how old they are, and if they have ever played t-ball before. I got one yes, so she's my ringer, and first baseman. By default, if you can almost catch, you are a t-ball stud.
Next comes the most important piece of coaching wizardry, "so I have an idea of the team name." I tell the kids.
"Pink Panthers. What do you think?" If it was nighttime the sound of crickets would be deafening.
"I will take that as a resounding yes."
"Okay guys (note they are girls so try to refer to them as the correct gender, hence gals, I have to work on that) we are going to run the bases. Who knows what base you run to first?"
One hand went up. "First Base." This from my old timer.
"Correct."
"Everyone what base?"
Weakly, "first base."
"I can't hear you. What base?"
Louder, "first base."
My father was a drill sergeant and that does come through to me every once in awhile.
"What base?!"
"FIRST BASE!!!!"
Lastly, I want the kids to feel like a team is something really cool and great to be a part of. So the final thing we do is bring it into a circle and everyone puts their hand in.
"Okay, gals on three we will say Go Pink Panthers. Ready?"
Everyone, "one, two, three, GO PINK PANTHERS!!!"
Two innings later, one skinned knee, one attempt to run to the pitchers mound, and two criers, the game is over and a success.
"Good job kids I will see you next Sunday."
Then a tiny little hand is pulling at my shirt, I turn around and see Jillian looking at me.
"Hey kid what's up?"
"What snack do we get next time?"
The priorities of a four year old.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Psychodelic 5K "Fire Version" time to get muddy...
"The psychopath of least resistance is uphill on the way back."
What a pretty, muddy bow to tie on the latest edition of my journey in trail running. This time I got to bring my dog along and boy did she shine.
Mango Margaret Salsa is pound puppy. We picked her up from the shelter when she was five weeks old. Based on my genetic eyeball test she is part yellow lab, part I have no idea. At the present time, she is about eight hands high and weighs around 80 pounds. She is a very solid, well put together animal. We have been running long distances since she was about a year old. I tried to wait until she was pretty close to full grown before I started putting the miles on her. I managed to cause some knee damage to my last yellow, running on ice, and I wanted to do whatever I could to avoid that problem with this one. To digress, Mango is awesome, she is extremely loyal, protective of my girls, a good listener, and runs, runs, runs, but she is still a dog. I run a lot, probably 50 miles a week and with the exception of when it gets above 80 degrees, she runs almost all those miles at my side. We got her for many reasons, I wanted my girls to appreciate animals and not be fearful. I like having a big dog in the house when I'm not there and in the backyard when my wife and I are inside. My wife isn't a runner and having a partner with you certainly keeps you motivated and pushes the pace when early on. Finally, there is a benefit of having animals in the house and preventing allergies. So far we are one for two on that front, with one child having them and the other in the clear for now. Having said all of that, as much as everyone in the family benefits from the relationship with her, she serves a purpose and that's to put in work.
She put in some good work on Sunday. The Kansas City Trail Nerds are amazing group of runners whom put on trail races all over the metropolitan area, do trail maintenance, and spread positivity. When you finish one of their races the sense of accomplishment you feel is tantamount to finishing your first marathon. The races are hard. On Sunday it was a Fall like 55 degrees and raining. Perfect running whether according to them. Mind you, it had been raining for about two weeks, sometimes nearing flood conditions and sometimes like one of those fans you buy at the gift shop bungalow that spits a mist on you in a vain attempt to cool you down. Again, they would say ideal. So, it's a single track out and back route in the woods. There are at least three monster uphills and downhills going each way. Rocks the size of marbles, bowling balls, and footstools line the entire path. Not to mention logs, thorn bushes, poison ivy, roots, streams, and 90 other runners in my way. That will be the last time that happens. In an effort to keep the dogs and runners from getting tangled in leashes, they like to have the dogs start in the back. Certainly a sound theory in practice, but in actuality it caused more problems when you figure Mango and I passed around 77 people to finish 12th place overall and first dog in. That's 77 people to pass on a single track trail, flying, or better yet, sliding down mud strewn ridges, without knocking them over or then getting tangled up. By race end we were nearly covered in mud, up on two and four feet and she could have done another ten.
We when crossed the line in about 29:00 minutes we were applauded and lauded for being first dog in. It is funny how little anyone cared that I managed to wrangle this mighty beast and come across in less than thirty minutes. All anyone wanted to do was ask me about Mango and talk about her. Even in her hour of triumph my giant ego was trying to steal the show. Humility is a character trait that I need to be constantly working on. We wobbled over to the water spigot and rinsed off the best we could and headed to the car. As we drove home, the thoughts of how she attacked the hills and bounded through the mud made me smile.
She was right in her element and somehow, so was I.
What a pretty, muddy bow to tie on the latest edition of my journey in trail running. This time I got to bring my dog along and boy did she shine.
Mango Margaret Salsa is pound puppy. We picked her up from the shelter when she was five weeks old. Based on my genetic eyeball test she is part yellow lab, part I have no idea. At the present time, she is about eight hands high and weighs around 80 pounds. She is a very solid, well put together animal. We have been running long distances since she was about a year old. I tried to wait until she was pretty close to full grown before I started putting the miles on her. I managed to cause some knee damage to my last yellow, running on ice, and I wanted to do whatever I could to avoid that problem with this one. To digress, Mango is awesome, she is extremely loyal, protective of my girls, a good listener, and runs, runs, runs, but she is still a dog. I run a lot, probably 50 miles a week and with the exception of when it gets above 80 degrees, she runs almost all those miles at my side. We got her for many reasons, I wanted my girls to appreciate animals and not be fearful. I like having a big dog in the house when I'm not there and in the backyard when my wife and I are inside. My wife isn't a runner and having a partner with you certainly keeps you motivated and pushes the pace when early on. Finally, there is a benefit of having animals in the house and preventing allergies. So far we are one for two on that front, with one child having them and the other in the clear for now. Having said all of that, as much as everyone in the family benefits from the relationship with her, she serves a purpose and that's to put in work.
She put in some good work on Sunday. The Kansas City Trail Nerds are amazing group of runners whom put on trail races all over the metropolitan area, do trail maintenance, and spread positivity. When you finish one of their races the sense of accomplishment you feel is tantamount to finishing your first marathon. The races are hard. On Sunday it was a Fall like 55 degrees and raining. Perfect running whether according to them. Mind you, it had been raining for about two weeks, sometimes nearing flood conditions and sometimes like one of those fans you buy at the gift shop bungalow that spits a mist on you in a vain attempt to cool you down. Again, they would say ideal. So, it's a single track out and back route in the woods. There are at least three monster uphills and downhills going each way. Rocks the size of marbles, bowling balls, and footstools line the entire path. Not to mention logs, thorn bushes, poison ivy, roots, streams, and 90 other runners in my way. That will be the last time that happens. In an effort to keep the dogs and runners from getting tangled in leashes, they like to have the dogs start in the back. Certainly a sound theory in practice, but in actuality it caused more problems when you figure Mango and I passed around 77 people to finish 12th place overall and first dog in. That's 77 people to pass on a single track trail, flying, or better yet, sliding down mud strewn ridges, without knocking them over or then getting tangled up. By race end we were nearly covered in mud, up on two and four feet and she could have done another ten.
We when crossed the line in about 29:00 minutes we were applauded and lauded for being first dog in. It is funny how little anyone cared that I managed to wrangle this mighty beast and come across in less than thirty minutes. All anyone wanted to do was ask me about Mango and talk about her. Even in her hour of triumph my giant ego was trying to steal the show. Humility is a character trait that I need to be constantly working on. We wobbled over to the water spigot and rinsed off the best we could and headed to the car. As we drove home, the thoughts of how she attacked the hills and bounded through the mud made me smile.
She was right in her element and somehow, so was I.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
that's not God bowling...
So impressionable the young mind that great precautions should be undertaken to ensure that some fictions are allowed while some are allowed to take root. Making that distinction is a disjointed measure by me and certainly something I would take some advice on.
Monday night we had a booming thunderstorm. As Ruby and I were sitting in my bed reading some books I felt like Tom Cruise and Suri with all the flashing coming in our window.
"Dad, I hear some lightning."
"Actually Ruby you hear thunder, after the lightning."
So at this point I'm pondering if it's necessary to explain the logistics of lightning and sound waves and decide, she's four let's just leave it at that.
"Dad, did you know thunder is when God drops stuff on the ground?"
Humm, I puzzle this over for a moment and decide to bust this bubble of innocence.
"Ruby, that's not true, thunder is the sound that lightning makes."
"So what is lightning?" Damn, I thought this question was coming so let's see if I have any brain cells left from high school earth science.
"Lightning is when you have a buildup of positively charged areas of clouds and negatively charged areas of the clouds and all that energy has to go somewhere and WHAMMO, lightning." This feels somewhat right but she's four and it certainly sounds more plausible than God dropping something...to me. Bingo.
"Dad, do you know what makes a sunset?"
"What?"
"You mix the sun and a rainbow." Take that science.
At this point the imagination and thinking it took to come up with that is far more amazing that me trying to explain what it really is. This is what puzzles me. I am cool with her believing in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, soon to be Tooth Fairy, but when it comes to nature and God, I find it necessary to draw a distinction between scientific knowledge and religious knowledge. Funny thing is I really don't know why I want her to think the same way. I believe in God, we go to church on Sunday's, and generally try to pray and say thanks on a daily basis. Why then draw that particular line in the sand now?
Basically I think it comes down to my belief in the compatibility of science, spirituality, and religion. These are not mutually exclusive of each other, but there is a demarcation that is necessary for one to understand how the universe really works. It is a challenge to marry some religious beliefs with scientific knowledge but that doesn't mean if I believe one and not the other that everything is false about the other.
Maybe I do like to pick and choose. I have been told that makes me not a "good" whatever but that's fine with me. As the body of scientific knowledge grows and we continue to learn new things about how the world works, I want my daughters to be able to grow with it. I guess I'm afraid that it's easier to accept things because that's what God did or said, rather than to investigate ourselves and dig a little deeper.
In the words of Herbert Spencer, "There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance - that principle is contempt prior to investigation."
Agreed.
Monday night we had a booming thunderstorm. As Ruby and I were sitting in my bed reading some books I felt like Tom Cruise and Suri with all the flashing coming in our window.
"Dad, I hear some lightning."
"Actually Ruby you hear thunder, after the lightning."
So at this point I'm pondering if it's necessary to explain the logistics of lightning and sound waves and decide, she's four let's just leave it at that.
"Dad, did you know thunder is when God drops stuff on the ground?"
Humm, I puzzle this over for a moment and decide to bust this bubble of innocence.
"Ruby, that's not true, thunder is the sound that lightning makes."
"So what is lightning?" Damn, I thought this question was coming so let's see if I have any brain cells left from high school earth science.
"Lightning is when you have a buildup of positively charged areas of clouds and negatively charged areas of the clouds and all that energy has to go somewhere and WHAMMO, lightning." This feels somewhat right but she's four and it certainly sounds more plausible than God dropping something...to me. Bingo.
"Dad, do you know what makes a sunset?"
"What?"
"You mix the sun and a rainbow." Take that science.
At this point the imagination and thinking it took to come up with that is far more amazing that me trying to explain what it really is. This is what puzzles me. I am cool with her believing in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, soon to be Tooth Fairy, but when it comes to nature and God, I find it necessary to draw a distinction between scientific knowledge and religious knowledge. Funny thing is I really don't know why I want her to think the same way. I believe in God, we go to church on Sunday's, and generally try to pray and say thanks on a daily basis. Why then draw that particular line in the sand now?
Basically I think it comes down to my belief in the compatibility of science, spirituality, and religion. These are not mutually exclusive of each other, but there is a demarcation that is necessary for one to understand how the universe really works. It is a challenge to marry some religious beliefs with scientific knowledge but that doesn't mean if I believe one and not the other that everything is false about the other.
Maybe I do like to pick and choose. I have been told that makes me not a "good" whatever but that's fine with me. As the body of scientific knowledge grows and we continue to learn new things about how the world works, I want my daughters to be able to grow with it. I guess I'm afraid that it's easier to accept things because that's what God did or said, rather than to investigate ourselves and dig a little deeper.
In the words of Herbert Spencer, "There is a principle which is a bar against all information, which is proof against all arguments and which cannot fail to keep a man in everlasting ignorance - that principle is contempt prior to investigation."
Agreed.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
and the winner is....
Mrs. Emily Keefe is the winner of the 2010 Excellence in Classroom Teaching for the Northland Catholic Schools by the Northland Chamber of Commerce in Kansas City, Missouri. Nice work my love.
Emily provides an example, everyday to her students, of what leadership is and what it means to embrace responsibility and she inspires a shared vision to every one of her students. My wife teaches first grade and even at the young age of six or seven, she already has children setting examples for others, modeling the way, and encouraging others. This is a characteristic that some are born with, some learn at home, and some see Mrs. Keefe setting this example and learn from her.
My wife may not think she is a leader but she practices leadership every day. What makes good leadership is the ability to motivate others to do something they did not think they could do. It is not about motivating them to do their coloring, use their manners, or do what is expected. It is to get them to go above and beyond, without being told, and exceed their own expectations.
Last night in front of hundreds of other teachers, administrators, local business leaders, and government officials recognition was given to deserving volunteers, teachers, and educational leaders. The level of professionalism and dedication from these angels on earth should be reassuring to anyone thinking of bringing children into this world and questioning our educational system.
Making sacrifices is what teaching is all about. Most educators spend five years in college learning their craft, spend at least eight hours a day in the classroom, another couple hours preparing at home after school. They volunteer to coach things, teach scrapbooking, help build rosary gardens, and generally give of themselves without asking for anything. My wife made the decision to teach in a Catholic school because she wants to ability to help children believe in something bigger than themselves. To have faith in something other than the secular and mold them in the spirit of compassion for the poor, giving of yourself for others, and become leaders of social justice in our world.
Sometimes she questions the sacrifice she makes, usually on the 1st and 15th of the month, but when you lay everything out on the table and really do a cost benefit analysis of the tangible and untangible benefits, it's always worth it.
I am honored to be married and share my life with such an amazing person. She is a great educator, mother, and friend to anyone who knows her.
Congratulations to all who were recognized for their contributions to the education of our greatest asset we have, our children.
Cheers and I love you Emily.
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