Life's a Beach

My daughter and son-in-law thought it would be a great idea for our two families to spend some time at the beach together.  I agreed, but it was going to be a challenge, because we were limited time-wise to a long weekend, which made it next to impossible to rent a decent beach house that could comfortably accommodate four adults, a teenager and two toddlers.

We settled on two efficiencies for three nights at the Quality Inn Beachfront in Ocean City, MD.  It was going to be a tight fit, but, who knows?  Perhaps it would be a great time to make some memories with the grandchildren.  The husbands and wives planned on taking turns looking after the kids so the former could have a guys’ night out and the latter could spend an afternoon talking and watching chick-flicks.  And of course, we would make plenty of memories at the beach.  If nothing else, I was looking forward to getting away.  Work had been stressful, and life at home was no picnic either.  Life always has its challenges with an autistic daughter (Angela), but it has been even more difficult lately due to my wife Susan’s foot injury and two surgeries which have severely limited her mobility, thus causing me to carry a significantly heavier load as well.  I was more than ready for some R and R.

GSA: Do As I Say And Not As I Do

It was in back April when the stories of GSA waste, fraud and abuse started breaking, the most infamous among them being the $823,000 boondoggle to Las Vegas for 300 employees of GSA’s Western Regions, a convention to engage in “team building”.  It is old news by now. 

The GSA made the headlines again in the last couple of days, this time with revelations that work-at-home employees had somehow managed to rack up $750,000 in travel expenses over a nine month period.   This was even too much for Jeff Neely, the former head of the GSA’s Pacific Rim Region and the infamous mastermind behind the kumbaya fest in Las Vegas.

A Christmas Story

Christmas past…..

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. [Luke 2:8]

It had been about four hours since the sun had set.  The three shepherds were trying to stay warm, and Simeon was lost in his thoughts….

What a miserable existence, spending days and nights in the fields, away from home, watching someone else’s sheep.   Shepherding was once considered honorable.  After all, King David was a shepherd, as were the patriarchs. But this day and age, shepherds are considered lowlifes, not a vocation to aspire to. Not many fathers would relish giving their daughter away in marriage to someone who spent more time with sheep than with a wife and children.

Old Friends: Musings on Living and Dying Well

Can you imagine us years from today

Sharing a park bench quietly?

How terribly strange to be seventy!

For someone younger than thirty, Paul Simon waxed quite philosophical when he penned these words more than forty years ago. He now gets to experience firsthand the answer to his rhetorical question as he turns seventy this year. Oddly enough, seventy doesn’t seem that old anymore, perhaps due to increased life expectancy. They say that the fifties of today are like the thirties of yesteryear, so perhaps seventy is equivalent to fifty. It is all a matter of perspective, particularly as the baby boomer generation is getting on in years.

Disliking Demagoguery

• dem•a•gogue noun \ˈde-mə-ˌgäg\ a leader who makes use of popular prejudices and false claims and promises in order to gain power
• dem•a•gogu•er•y (d m -gô g -ree , ) noun\ The practices or rhetoric of a demagogue.

In my last post I wrote about the demagoguery employed in the debate over the “Debit Card Rule”, but plenty of other examples abound. Politicians love to use class warfare or other means to demonize entire categories or groups of people in order to stir the populace into a frenzy.  Their goal is to make the latter clamor for passage of new laws, which ultimately grant more power to politicians.

A Murderer and a Blasphemer

I was very tired Sunday evening and went to bed early. I must have needed it because I fell asleep right away, even over the distant sound of the television my wife was watching in the next room. At around 11:00 pm. I was suddenly awakened by my wife’s excited voice:

“Osama bin Laden is dead. The Navy Seals captured him in Pakistan”

“Okay, cool," I muttered. "Will he still be dead in the morning?”

My Turn to Whine

No, I am not whining because I am an about to be furloughed federal employee. If the government shuts down, I will survive. So will the rest of the country. My beef today is about something that is much more petty and parochial, though on second thought, it might be a microcosm of the larger debate that is going on with regard to the size, scope and level of accountability of government. It has to do with a quasi-governmental organization: The Washington Metropolitan Transit Authority, affectionately known as “Metro”.

Sometimes They Listen

After 97 posts on “The Maryland Crustacean”, I am finally writing something about the State of Maryland.  Well, sort of.  Last night I sent emails to at least 16 members of the Maryland House of Delegates.  Each individually addressed message was short and sweet:

I am writing to respectfully urge you to vote NO on any bill attempting to legalize marriage for same sex couples. Such a bill would make a mockery of the institution of marriage and would further erode the social and moral fabric of our state and nation.

Life and Liberty

I mentioned in my post the other day that even a libertarian can believe that abortion should be outlawed. Why? Life begins at conception, as any intellectually honest medical scientist will concede. Once we have established the individuality and humanity of the unborn, they are vested with the same right to life, liberty and pursuit of happiness as the rest of us.


I was thinking about the issue in church this morning when I was reminded that today is “Sanctity of Human Life Sunday”. The italics in the last sentence are intentional, because it bothers me that I had to be reminded.

Libertarianism and Legislating Morality

In my last post I mentioned how I am increasingly sympathetic to the libertarian point of view, although I am not quite there yet. One of the reasons I am still a little uncomfortable and unconvinced has to do with moral law. Despite the old and stupid adage that says “You can’t legislate morality” (What else are you going to legislate and why would you otherwise legislate anything?), all law has a basis in morality. Even the basic libertarian concession to the proper role of government,--to allow for the “least intrusive government consistent with the maximum freedom of each individual as long as he doesn't interfere with other individuals pursuing their own freedom”--is itself based in moral law. Does anyone remember the “Golden Rule”: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”?

Already and Not Yet

It has been quite a while since my last post. I am not sure whether it has been due to writer’s block, a temporary loss of interest or inspiration, or a spate of laziness or lethargy. I figured I would try to break the inertia at Christmas by doing what I did last year, and post an adaptation of my annual Christmas letter. I try to write one each year with the dual purpose of recounting family news from the previous year and even coming up with something inspirational in keeping with the holiday.


I also suffer from writer’s block occasionally when trying to draft the Christmas letter.  This puts me into a panic when Christmas is less than two weeks away and the muses still have not shown up. Part of my writer’s block this year may have been due to a fear of boring the reader by repetition. It does indeed seem that each year is a mixed bag of good news and bad news, joys and sorrows, births and deaths. 2010 was no exception.

St. Nicholas and the Cordoba Mosque

One doesn't know whether to laugh or cry when Mayor Bloomberg, President Obama and their ilk appeal to freedom of worship as their rationale for supporting the construction of an imposing 13 story mosque near Ground Zero in Manhattan.

Has the left finally seen the light--gotten religion, so to speak--and started to actually defend the right of people to worship as they please, even to the point of bending over backwards to remove bureaucratic hurdles such as zoning laws, environmental impact studies, etc. in order to facilitate the construction of their places of worship?

Almost Enough to Turn Me into a Socialist

Fear not, for the title of this post is somewhat misleading. I write this in reaction to a recent unpleasant economic transaction with a private entity, leaving me with the kind of "I've-just-been-taken-to-the-cleaners" feeling that makes liberals want to scream for government control.

I was at the Cincinnati airport on my way home from a business trip, and the flight to Baltimore was delayed due to some nasty thunderstorms. We no sooner boarded the plane an hour after the originally scheduled departure time than the pilot got on the intercom and advised us that we might as well get off the plane because he had just received word that we would be held at least another hour before being cleared for takeoff.

I figured I had best call home to tell my wife I would not be back in time for dinner after all, but unfortunately the battery on my cell phone was dead. Once off the plane and onto the airport concourse, I spotted an increasingly rare sight: public telephones! I have often wondered how soon public phones would become a relic of the past, but thankfully I found one in my time of need.

The Tender Mercies of the TSA

“If you are traveling with children, please secure your own oxygen mask first before assisting your children with theirs.”

These are part of the rote but necessary safety instructions given by airline attendants at the beginning of all commercial flights. Everyone who travels by air more than once a year knows the entire safety routine by heart, which is why the attendants at Southwest Airlines can get away with spicing it up with comic relief variants, such as one that I heard recently on a flight from Cleveland to Baltimore:

“If you are traveling with children, what were you thinking?!?!””

I got quite a charge out of that one perhaps because of its special applicability to my wife and me. We not only travel with children, but very often with our autistic children, a surefire guarantee to turn any vacation into an adventure.

Are We Out of the Woods Yet?

I am probably among the few who has not seen or listened to the Tiger Woods’ apology. I have little or no interest and really felt no need to hear it. In truth, I know relatively few of the details of his transgressions. From the little snippets I have heard on news radio over the last few months while driving home from work, I take it he was unfaithful to his wife and family.

Don’t get me wrong. It’s not that situations like this don’t sadden me deeply. Marriage is sacred. And I grieve over those who are deeply hurt when one or more partners break their vow. Even when in the midst of the wreckage of the relationship both partners bravely attempt to forgive, mend and restore, it has to be terribly painful.

This is one reason I had little interest in the public apology. To whom in the public does he need to apologize? Yes, I suppose he should issue an apology to those whom he let down because they had looked to him as a role model. But this is more of a sad commentary on our society, where we elevate and lionize people who can run fast, score goals, break records or get a silly 1” diameter ball to fall into a hole with the fewest strokes possible. As impressive as these feats are, are they really the makings of a role model?

Snow

“Forget red and blue - color America white. There was snow on the ground in 49 states Friday -- all 50 states if you count the snow on top of the mountains in Hawaii.”

So stated an AP story quoted on the WTOP News Website on February 12, 2010. You would think I would use this as a springboard to take another potshot at the politically motivated global warming hysteria. Believe me, it is tempting, but that is not my purpose here.

I will focus instead on the effects of the record snowfall in Washington, DC, expressed not only in terms of the back to back storms that dumped more than three feet of snow on the national capital area, but also in terms of closings and delays. While it is not uncommon that a significant snowfall should shut down local school systems—for obvious safety reasons--it is extremely rare for inclement weather to shut down the federal government, even for a day. Instead, federal employees who cannot make it into work are usually offered the option of taking unscheduled leave.

Talkin' 'bout my generation!

Though I was born a little late for it, I consider myself a child of the sixties. I imbibed the culture and the music from my older brothers, and even from my dad, whose negative experiences growing up in fascist Italy caused him to be sympathetic to a generation that questioned authority, and particularly a generation that opposed the war in Vietnam. Though my brothers and I were otherwise raised to be pretty straight-laced kids that otherwise steered clear of the uglier side of the sixties generation, and even as I have since rejected much of the political ideology in favor of common sense conservatism (i.e., I grew up.), there is much about the sixties that causes me to look back nostalgically. If nothing else, I still love the music.

Farewell

I sit alone as a flood of memories parades through my head.


I am remembering the black and white photos from when we were kids. I can picture the one of you standing beside your father smirking as he is holding up a Topo Gigio doll with its head turned backwards, so it ‘s erect tail looks like something else.


We were both the youngest sons of our parents, only a few months apart in age. On the one hand, this produced an unspoken rivalry. On the other hand, we were friends and playmates. Though you were one grade ahead of me, we went through much of life together: catechism classes, first communion, etc. Our families were always together, whether at work in the mushroom houses or spending leisurely evenings socializing at home.

I vividly remember when your family would come over. Instead of knocking, your father would call out “Permesso!” in a loud voice as he walked through our front door without a moment’s hesitation. At other times he would simply yell out my dad’s name in the Genovese dialect, “Menegu!”, and my dad would yell back “Avanti!” Our parents would gather around the table for coffee or dessert, together with Uncle Joe and Aunt Josephine and others, having a grand old time talking about who-knows-what while we played together. Though sometimes we fought, we were best of buddies.

When the foundations are being destroyed...

I hadn’t picked up a newspaper in a couple days, but the following headline from the Washington Times caught my eye as it lay on the kitchen table: Birth mom must give child to lesbian ex-partner.

I wanted to ignore it, but a mixture of perplexity and curiosity compelled me to pick up the newspaper, thinking that there must be more to this story. As I read the article, it only got worse. Read the details for yourself if you like, but the story in a nutshell is as follows:

Christmas Joy

Today’s post is an adaptation of a Christmas letter I recently sent to family and friends. I write one every year as an alternative to Christmas cards. When I first started, I would send out a couple hundred of them all by snail mail. Thanks to modern technology and a touch of laziness, I have been able to save quite a few trees (and postage) by only printing and mailing about half as many.

Each year I try to achieve the dual purpose of (1) sharing family news and (2) saying something inspiring. I almost did not send a letter out this year because, to be honest, I wasn’t feeling very inspired. Too much of the family news I had to share was not very joyful, and the majority of my recipients were already well aware of it. I had heard many of them express, either verbally or via a post on Facebook, that they would just as soon bid good riddance to the year 2009.