Capital Punishment

By

William D. Dannenmaier

The Supreme Court, in its ultimate power if not wisdom, has halted capital executions while considering if death by lethal injection was “cruel and unusual” punishment.  I haven’t heard if they are considering if the murders committed were “cruel and unusual.”  Apparently, that is irrelevant. 

One argument against capital punishment is that an innocent person could be executed.  Studies of executions, however, have never been able to cite a single incident, not one, of an innocent person being executed.  There are no reports, at least no publicized reports, of the numbers of people who have been murdered by escaped or released murderers.  Tennessee had one that I was aware of a few years ago.  A convicted murderer had escaped from prison in Louisiana and moved to Memphis, where he murdered an elderly lady in a parking lot. Had he been executed, that lady would have lived.

Periodically, one hears about similar “incidents.”  No one seems to care about the hundreds who have been murdered by persons previously convicted of murder who have escaped or been released from prison because of their “good conduct” while closely guarded in prison. 

A second argument is that executing murders does not deter other murders.  This is nonsense.  A recent study, covering several decades, compared the number of executions with the number of murders in the United States.  When the number of executions went up, the number of murders went down.  When the number of executions went down, the number of murders went up.  But who cares about facts and statistics?

An example rarely mentioned (Joel Mowbray discusses it in his article “Media Silence: Islamic Terrorist Case Ignored, Townhall.com, November 15 2007), which demonstrates the effect of executions on the murder rate concerns Muslims.  Tens of thousands of innocent people – men, women and children – have been murdered throughout the world in the name of “Islam.”  Occasionally, mention of one or two of the more notorious of these is reported, as in the proud publication by Muslims of the beheading of people they deemed reprehensible or in a particularly brutal act, such as the 9/11 airplane attacks on the twin towers in New York City and the pentagon in Washington D. C., or the train explosions in Spain.  Otherwise, there is silence.

In Holland, a man who wrote an article critical of the Islamic religion was stabbed to death in the street for expressing his opinion.  One does not write critical comments about Islamic beliefs A member of Holland’s legislature, a female Muslim who was critical of the Muslim treatment of women not only had to resign her elected position, but had to flee the nation to save her life.  Islamic apostates must not be publicly critical.  The editor in Belgium who published a series of cartoons about Mohammed was threatened with death and remains protected. 

Recently, a young woman who was abducted and raped by four men in Saudi Arabia was sentenced to ninety lashes for being out without a male companion.  When she went public with this outrageous punishment, she was retried and sentenced to two hundred (yes 200) lashes for arousing criticism of Islam.

Note the silence of the editors of the famed and courageous New York Times as well as other papers concerning such “incidents.”  The editors know better.  Public criticism of Islam could be fatal.

Recently, Miller Brewing Company helped finance a gay “rights” celebration in San Francisco which included a float mocking Christianity.  That was safe.  The owners of Miller know better, however, than to finance anything which mocks criticizes, much less mocks, Islam.

Hiding behind the twin gods of Multiculturalism and Diversity, newspaper editors, judges and important politicians have little to say about the seriousness of the Muslim terrorist threat.  Even college professors are careful to avoid the topic.  One cannot offend Muslim killers: offenders – or their families – might be murdered.  I know that I have heard of moderate Muslims, but where are their voices?  Like newscasters and other prominent “leaders,” they know the penalty of criticism.

The wealthy and important can argue that capital punishment does not deter crime.  They can afford such attitudes.  Living in guarded mansions, protected by guards in their public excursions, they don’t need to walk the streets to shop or work as do most people.  They have no fear of casual muggers, rapists and murderers.  But they are careful not to offend the “radical Islamists” by caricaturing their religion – as they do Christianity – or even by reporting the deeds of Muslim radicals accurately.  They know they and their families as well as any innocent bystanders would be executed in reprisal. 

Who says capital punishment doesn’t work?     

Stray Thoughts

By

William D. Dannenmaier

This morning, I proudly announced to by bride that I was successfully buttoned and zippered.  In response to her muted applause, I told her, “Growing older is a day by day achievement.”

I belong to the Cardiac Club at our local hospital, reporting for punishment two mornings a week.  This is not its official hospital name, which I believe is Cardiac Rehabilitation, but I long ago decided none of us would put up with the torture, called rehabilitation, that the nurses put us through if we didn’t enjoy the comradeship, which out weighs the suffering we endure. 

Anyway, viewing my fellow members the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, it occurred to me that we all know how to eat.  We might not be gourmets, who enjoy wafer thin slices of food served as delicacies, but we would all qualify as gourmands, who know how to stuff it in.  Even a casual observer would agree to that!

I ran out of tobacco this morning.  Finally, desperate, I asked my bride if she had a package concealed.  When she asked me how I wanted her to answer, I said, “Truthfully.”  A few minutes later, sitting on the porch watching the rain with her I said, “You know, when I die you might slip a pouch of tobacco and my pipe in the coffin.  I don’t expect to need matches; no doubt the fire will manifest itself.”  I don’t recall her answer.

When I brag, I only succeed in entertaining myself and boring the listeners.  My bride is much better at it.  Her brags are much more useful.  I thought about this the other day while making bean soup.  She is always telling people, in my presence, about the wonderful soup I make.  It is true.  I make soup.  I use a three or four gallon pot and when it is finished Sheila freezes it in the empty gallon ice cream containers we save (and of which we have plenty).  Then, when she doesn’t feel like cooking, out comes the soup.  For the last two days, for example, we have had chicken soup for light meals.  It was from the second last container of frozen soup, so it was time for me to make more.  Since the batch before the chicken had been pork and barley, it was time for bean soup.  All the time I’m working, of course, she tastes and brags about me.  It makes me proud and I cook on. Notice now nicely these soups fit into her cooking plans.  Notice how useful her brags are. 

Talking with Andrew the other day, somehow the physical fitness of our congressmen arose.  His first suggestion was to do a study comparing the fitness (physical) of congressmen to people in general.  Then, on reflection, he said, “But you should compare otherwise equivalent groups, and everyday people aren’t equivalent.  Maybe we should compare them with convicts.”  I replied that this wasn’t fair either.  Convicts spent their days working out in gyms to increase their strength so they would be more effective criminals in fighting law-abiding citizens and police when they got out.  On the other hand, congressmen had to go to all these expensive parties and do all of the drinking.  Just think, at present Senator Reid is taking an all taxpayer paid tour of South America.  Consider the parties he will have to attend: the meals he will have to eat and the cocktails he will be required to drink.  It is not fair to compare congressmen with other, convicted, criminals.”   He agreed.

I would like to suggest that any reader click into Townhall.com/columnists for November 28, 2007.  There are a slew of excellent articles, the best in several days in my opinion.  I was particularly impressed by Kathleen Parker, Walter E. Williams (as always), and Michelle Malkin.  For just plain fun, Mad Mike (Mike S. Adams) is his usual self.  He makes one wonder what California taxpayers are getting for their money as every organization he mentions uses university facilities and had faculty sponsors who are paid for their time – probably by released time from teaching real subjects.  As a combat veteran who despises Kerry (I never before knew of a Purple Heart recipient who didn’t spend a night in the hospital) I also liked Michael McBride. 

I believe that the local song birds have my number.  When I go out on the back porch to smoke my pipe, the bird feeder will be empty with not a bird in sight.  As soon as I light the pipe, a bird arrives.  Not wanting it to go away hungry, I fill the feeder while it watches from a nearby branch.  As soon as I finish, before I even return to my seat, he is at the feeder.  By the time I have the pipe smoking, birds are arriving in droves: chickadees, tufted titmice, song sparrows – they know that my smoke indicates food is on the table.

Stray Thoughts

By

William D. Dannenmaier

John Edwards, pursuing his quest for the Democratic nomination for president, advocated college for everyone. That’s just what professors’ need, more below average bodies in class, including morons and idiots.  On second thought; considering the writings and proclamations of many professors, particularly in such intellectual areas as popular psychology, sociology, social work, feminist studies and black studies; we have many professors who will communicate well at the level of less than intelligent and stupid students.

The worst thing that happened to higher education was when President Johnson flooded the universities with federal money.  It provided stipends for students with no experience in life to gain doctorates and become professors.  Uneducated in the reality of life, they taught from books written by other professors uneducated in the reality of life.  As a student, I never realized how excellent an education I was getting in my little teachers’ college as a result of being taught by professors who had successful prior experience in actually teaching in the public schools.

Stephen, who is in college, was unhappy with his low pay (six dollars an hour) in his part-time job.  It made me think of my past.  As a seventeen year old freshman in college I was making five dollars a day as a stock boy in the men’s clothing department at Famous-Barr in St. Louis.  One of my first purchases was of a red and black plaid jacket, a left-over from the previous year’s stock.  It was on sale for four dollars.  I desperately wanted a pair of Levi jeans, but they cost eleven dollars – more than sixteen hours of work.  I also worked as a theater usher, three dollars a night and as a lab assistant in the biology department, a dollar an hour with a maximum of twenty hours a month. 

In today’s world, many things are much less expensive.  At six dollars an hour, one eight hour day would pay for a shirt and a pair of Levi pants.  It is only non-essentials that have gotten so more expensive.  We bought White Castle hamburgers for a nickel, now they cost a dollar.  A better hamburger, which cost us then a dollar, is now four dollars.  People on middle-class incomes, with no children, buy three and four bedroom, and bathroom, homes.  In my youth, people with young children had two bedroom homes, boys and girls slept in the same room.  As infants became children they would gravitate to three bedrooms; one for parents, one for boys and one for girls.  One bathroom still did the job.  It is still possible to live inexpensively if you control the big items: the meals and the home.  Home made soups are extremely inexpensive (and much better than the canned soups sold), if you make them yourself and homes are reasonable, if you purchase to fit the family.

Judge Judy (other than football and local news) is the only program on television that I watch.  Recently, however, after two years of watching I’m able to predict most of the cases.  A young man and woman are living together, anywhere from two or three months to two or three years, and have now separated.  They met through the internet, at a bar or worked together, briefly, at some business.  During this time he or she borrowed several hundred or thousand dollars from her or him to pay rent or debts or bail.  Now the borrower has left to return to a wife or husband or former lover.  The rejected one is bitter and wants the money back.  This is almost a standard case.  It occurred to me the other day (it is beginning to get boring) that I have yet to hear of a single case in which the couple attended and met at the same church.  Neither can I recall couples who met in college and married.  

Ordering a Stark’s Brother’s catalogue, I held the young man on the telephone while I hunted for a pencil.  While looking I commented that my wife always hid things to write with and he started laughing.  Asking if he were married, he said, “Yes.”  I came back with, “At the age of 77 let me say that if you are married to a good cook, you can overlook a lot of lesser things.”  He agreed whole heartedly and said, “And there are always a lot of lesser things.”

The reason this is late is that a branch that came down from our maple tree in a wind gust has occupied my mind – and efforts – for the past two weeks.  Before the cries of “age will tell,” let me comment that four feet from where it joined the tree, the branch was 58 inches in circumference.  Yes, four feet, ten inches, round.  I still haven’t cut up that segment. 

Why Buy the Cow?

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Waiting for the computer to warm up, I play solitaire.  I lose a lot of games, many more than I win.  It seems that when I must choose between one of two or three alternatives, I always select the wrong one.  That reminds me of life.  We always have so many alternatives to choose from, and so many of them are wrong, leading us away from where we wish to be.

As a beginning psychologist, I was always amazed by the number of young women who found life not as they wished.  After we came to know one another, they often confessed they would like to marry and have a family with someone they could trust.  I recall one young woman who had had three husbands, all of whom proved unfaithful.  I asked her were she met them.  Guess.  In taverns.  I suggested to her that she might have better luck visiting some churches. 

While not everyone who attends church is trustworthy and dependable, I would be willing to bet that she would meet a much higher percentage of men who would make good husbands in church than in any tavern she could name.  Another who started coming for advice on college courses (she was intelligent and attractive) eventually admitted that she was dating a young intern.  She didn’t live with him, but she cooked his suppers, did his wash and slept with him.  I quoted the old saying to her of “Why buy the cow when the milk is free?”  She didn’t like that.  She quit coming to see me.

I am a “Judge Judy” fan.  An amazing number of her cases are “couples” who have lived together, anywhere from three or four months to three or four years and then separated – with recriminations, mostly from the women.  In a recent case a young woman was suing to get back money she had “loaned” to her former partner of a few months for either car repairs or bail.  Sitting next to the man she was suing was another young woman.  When Judge Judy asked who she was, she replied, “His fiancée.”  This reminded me of when my wife and I worked for the Census. 

After the first or second day of interviewing people – we had to ask how many lived in the house – Sheila asked me if I had noticed that if a woman answered our questions at the home of an unmarried couple, she always replied that she and her fiancé lived there.  If a man answered he would say, “My girlfriend lives with me.”  I began paying attention to that, and the people I interviewed who were living together, unmarried, answered in the same way, the woman would describe the man as her fiancé, the man would say his girl friend.  Sheila pointed out that the implication of this was that women in such situations typically saw “living together” as a prelude to marriage, the men never did.  I think she was right. 

Years ago, one of my sons had lived with a young woman for two or three years.  I wrote him a long letter saying that they had lived together long enough to know if they wished it to be permanent.  If she did, and he didn’t, he was stealing from her years when she might find a man who would give her the love, stability and family that she wished.  It was a long letter, one I didn’t wish to write, but felt it was my responsibility as his father.  I didn’t hear from him for a long time and feared I had alienated him (we are now close friends).  Several years later I told him of my fears and asked what happened.  He said that when he received it, he read it and handed it to her.  She read it; and moved out a few days later.

Nature has divided the reproductive opportunities for men and women.  Men can sire children well into their fifties and sixties – I ate a breakfast for seniors – legally – the morning following the birth of my youngest child.  But men cannot have children, only women can.  On the other hand, nature sets limits on women.  The best times, in terms of the health of the mother and child, for a woman to bear children, is in her twenties.  Research in the sixties found that women who bore their first child after the age of thirty-five, had one chance in five of the child having some kind of a birth defect: spina bifada, Down’s Syndrome, etc.  Men who simply live with women, with no intention of providing permanence or family, are stealing from those women their opportunities to have an enduring family.  Perhaps, to spread the blame, I should say that women who choose to spend their twenties sleeping with men who have no intention of permanence, signified by marriage, are throwing away chance for long term happiness.  Yes, twenty year follow-up studies at a major state university found the happiest people were married men, the second happiest were married women.  The least happy, divorced men led, but were closely followed by single women.

The old timers had it right, why buy the cow if you get the milk for free?  If young women don’t wish to think of themselves as cows giving free milk, they shouldn’t put themselves in that position.

Family Affairs

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Since going on my enforced diet, my breakfast three mornings a week consists of one soft-boiled egg (unless I sneak in a piece of buttered, jellied toast.)  I like soft-boiled eggs.  The white should be hard, there should be a minuscule hard layer of yellow around the yoke and the remainder of the yoke should be runny – to add flavor to the white.  This morning the egg was perfect.  Normally it isn’t: sometimes the white runs out when the egg is cut, more often the yellow resembles a new form of concrete.  My bride watched me open the egg and noticed its perfection.  “You are really enjoying that, aren’t you?” she asked and continued, “You may think the usual variety I provide you is an accident.  It isn’t.  If I provided perfect eggs every time, you would soon be bored.  You would never get pleasure in breakfast. This way, I keep your morning one of anticipation and provide real pleasure every so often.  This is part of being a thoughtful and loving wife.  You are a very lucky man.”

Billy, I believe the second oldest man in church - next to me - patted his paunch the other day and said, “The better I treat my stomach the more it grows and the worse it treats me.”  What a beautiful parallel to our welfare system: recipients, social workers, managers et al.  The more they receive, the more they want and the more complaints we hear.

I’ve been spending our money on books recently.  I purchased Ann Coulter’s If Democrats had brains, they’d be Republicans.  It was a fun read if you like irony and sarcasm with occasional novel points, which I do, but I rather regret the $15, as Sheila quit after a half dozen pages.  On the other hand, the autobiography My Grandfather’s Son by Clarence Thomas was outstanding and should gain a lasting place in literature.  Talking about it to my son Eric, he said he had heard it was a very angry book.  Not at all.  Detailing Thomas’ life and employment progress, it gave a vivid picture of the growth of a man from a poverty stricken childhood, through a radical demonstrating youth to conservative maturity.  He is highly critical of black “liberals,” in fact of liberals in general, but if chronicling specific political figures, their lies and failures, is anger, we need more of it.  Incidentally, he is highly complimentary of many people, including, interestingly enough, the residents of Jefferson City, Missouri, where he worked for several years for several years. 

Next month will continue the wild spending on books.  Doug Giles, in his blog on Townhall.com (October 21), which is always worth reading, described two books, What’s So Great About Christianity by Dinesh D’Souza ($17) and The Politically Incorrect Guide to the Bible by Robert Hutchinson ($14), both of which sound quite interesting.  (My prices are all from Amazon.com.)      

I slept late one recent morning.  It was almost six o’clock and Sheila was still asleep, or so she seemed.  Affectionately, I put an arm around her and, quite accidentally, touched her ribs.  There was an immediate giggle and she pushed my hand away (so much for affection).  She claims that it is unfair of nature that I am not ticklish anywhere and she is, everywhere.  I tried to explain it was not nature’s fault.  My older brother and sister tickled me mercilessly when I was small and helpless.  There were even times when, had it not been a hot dry summer day, I would have had to change my pants later.  Anyway, perhaps preparing me for Sheila, they taught me not to be ticklish.

Something, perhaps the above, reminded Sheila of a saying Ruby Leach believed and told her.  Shortly after we were married, while I was at work, Ruby was visiting and saw Sheila preparing a special treat for me.  Ruby asked what she was doing, and Sheila explained it was a treat for me.  To this Ruby responded, “Remember Sheila, dogs and men are easy to spoil, but hard to fix.”  That is feminist slander of course, but Ruby was, and Sheila is, an old fashioned feminist, one who has little trust in the competence of men. Husbands who have great cooks for wives can always accept a bit of such nonsense.

Currently, we have five dogs in the house.  We are baby sitting a small one for Joanne, Brandy and Leslie Edwards that is the most spoiled dog I’ve ever seen, more so than Joyce Melton’s Paisley, who held honors until now.  The darned thing will stand at the top of a one step stair and bark to be carried down.  It also considers thunder the barking of a distant dog which must be answered.  During a thunderstorm the other night, late the other night, it answered each clap of thunder, no matter how distant, with a round of barking.  Now, to complete the picture, Megaera and Shane arrived for the weekend bringing with them a four month old German Shepard puppy, a non-house trained puppy which thinks it must be with humans at all times.  I’m considering moving to a motel until Monday when our canine visitors return to their respective homes.

Hillary Care

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Rabid Republicans and other thoughtful people believe the most recent health plan put forth by Hillary Clinton is simply a reincarnation of her proposal that so horrified them several years ago.  The claim that 45 million people do not have health insurance is a distortion of statistics, as those 45 include 15 million illegal immigrants, new born children, and those who don’t wish to buy it as well as those who wish health insurance, but can’t purchase it. One study examining the 45 million and breaking it down into different groups concluded that there were fewer than a million people who wanted health insurance couldn’t afford it: people like my son Stephen who remains a student but is now too old to be included in my family policy.

Then there are those who could easily afford health insurance, but choose not to buy it.  A neighbor fits this category.  As the owner of a construction company, he makes more money a year than I ever made as a teacher.  Democrat Senate Majority leader Harry Reid, in an impassioned defense of the “new” plan, introduced two children who had been severely injured in an accident.  They were his examples of the need for this free coverage.  Michelle Malkin (Townhall.com, October 10, 2007) reviewed their case as no major media “reporter” bothered to do.  These children’s parents, who reported a taxable income of $45, 000, live in a home valued at $300, 000.  They have two new looking automobiles and a new looking truck in their driveway.  He owns his own business and employs his wife, who has a second job.  The children attend expensive, private, schools (There are two other children.) and both sets of grandparents are wealthy.  Mr. Reid reported their insurance would cost them a thousand dollars a month, but a blogger reported that it would be possible to purchase full coverage for five hundred a month.  To me, this combination sounds more like a case for investigation by the IRS then one for charity.

Another writer points out that the inference in the political tears for the uninsured 45 million is that they don’t receive health care.  That is not true. There are numerous government programs helping those in need – another neighbor, for example, learned that by remaining unemployed and single the government would pay all expenses when she had her baby.  She had a private room and received all necessary equipment – high chair, crib etc., - all new and all “free” except to taxpayers.  Additionally, most, if not all, hospitals accept people who need assistance but can’t pay for it, adding those costs to the bills of those who can pay.

The truth is that Hillary’s health plan is not designed to help the poor who are ill and probably wouldn’t receive health care.  The hidden agenda is to help the economy.  Notice that her proposed law would require that everyone – EVERYONE – have health insurance.  Consider what this means.

New born infants would be required to have insurance.  Every hospital would have to employ guards to stand at the doors to check a newborn’s health insurance card (HIC) before it could leave the hospital.  Additional nurses, beds and guards (to check for HICs) would be employed to care for the infants without HICs until their parents could provide them.  This would be an assist to the economy, all paid for with taxes from across the nation. 

Many states, including California, currently require everyone to have automobile insurance; else they are subject to penalties, perhaps including jail time.  Driving without insurance is a crime in California.  But one estimate is that twenty percent (20%) of California drivers do not have insurance. 

Now we shall have Living without Health Insurance (L/HI) crimes for the entire nation.  Consider the boon to the economy.  More police, more judges, more jails and more jail construction.  This last will help the construction industry, which has had a slow down in home building.  Everyone will be happy, except those facing additional and increased taxes.

All of this increase in taxes means less money in the pockets of working people to spend on such frivolous items as housing, food, clothing and education.  But, what the heck, Hillary will have provided “free” health care for everyone: those currently receiving “free” care through welfare, those who choose not to purchase health care and those who are currently paying for health insurance through union and company payment plans.

Who says there is no Mrs. Santa Clause?

[1]

Should We Abolish Christianity?

By

William D. Dannenmaier

The United States Constitution, our legal system and the recognition it gives to the value of human life was developed and has evolved from the Christian principles of our founding fathers.  But those very principles have permitted routine attacks on the religion from which they were devised.

On a disorganized basis, attacks on Christianity probably began prior to the American Revolution.  On the current organized basis, it has been led by the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and, more recently, by Muslim leaders and, worst of all, by our Federal Government.  San Francisco’s homosexual festival’s recent insulting and sexual parody of Christianity and its founder are a step downward in those well organized attacks. 

Everyone is familiar with the lawsuits by the ACLU against any school district or public property that dares to erect a Christmas tree or sing a Christmas hymn.  Such lawsuits and, I presume, fear of the lawsuits, have led to interesting and stupid decisions.  Recently, a young woman graduating from the top of her class in high school had the audacity to thank God for her success – the school refused her a diploma.  That problem seems to occur every year.  About fifteen years ago, my grandson August’s school in Colorado Springs declared against Christmas celebrations.  August, in the second grade, was told to draw symbols of Hanukkah, a celebration of a Jewish military victory several thousand years ago.  When he protested that he wanted to draw pictures of the Christ child, he was sent to the Principal.  His father had to go to school because of his misbehavior. Why was it right for him to draw a Jewish symbol, but wrong to draw a Christian symbol?  I could understand that in Israel, where it is against the law to try to convert people to Christianity (better an atheist than a Christian!) but Colorado Springs is in the United States.

In recent years, Muslims have become active in demanding their “rights.”  A woman in Florida was permitted to have her driver’s license photograph taken completely veiled in accordance with “Muslim” law.  Florida did not raise the fact that if she lived in a country with strict Muslim law, she wouldn’t be permitted to drive an automobile – or leave home without the company of an adult male relative.  Muslim taxi drivers in Minneapolis are refusing to drive passengers from the airport who possess liquor, again because it is against “Muslim” law.  They won’t permit blind people with Seeing Eye dogs to ride in their cabs for the same reason.  All of these people have left nations where Muslim law ruled because they couldn’t stand living in a nation created under and ruled by Muslim law.  Now they want the right to impose that law here. 

The founders of the United States specifically separated the powers of church and state.  They didn’t want priests or mullahs making and enforcing their own rules.  I thought that was still the law in the United States.  Why did Florida change the state law for a religious reason? 

More disturbing are recent federal actions.  Last year the Internal Revenue Service sued two churches in California whose pastors had dared discuss politics from their pulpits.  Isn’t it the right, even the obligation, of ministers (or priests or rabbis) to speak out on matters which affect the lives of their parishioners?  Particularly moral matters?  It interested me, that the national news and none of the mainstream churches made a public outcry over this.  Also disturbing, was the Congressman who took his oath of office on the Qur’an.  It authorizes the killing of people who are “unbelievers,” an authorization which some Muslim sects accept as also meaning members of other Muslim sects.  This is quite different from Christianity, which tells people to love their neighbors - without questioning their religion.  

With all these doubts in mind, I purchased and read A Tale of a Tub and Other Writings by Jonathan Swift, which was published three hundred years ago.  I did this following an article which, in describing Swift as the greatest writer of satire in the English language, also said “A Tale of a Tub” was his best work – better than Gulliver’s Travels.   

I found “A Tale of a Tub” difficult to understand because of my lack of knowledge of English history, but one of the gems in the book was “The Abolishing of Christianity in England.”  Swift said that while he couldn’t defend “real” Christianity, he could defend “nominal” Christianity. 

According to Swift people need a religion to revile, to protest against because complaining about God is much safer than complaining about real people.  That if they protested against political leaders or government institutions – say the IRS – they could get in trouble.  Of course this is even truer of Christians in Muslim countries; there a protest can lead to a death sentence.

Swift argued that criticizing Christianity in England provided a living for many professors, particularly philosophers and social scientists.  He claimed artists and comedians also profited from Christianity and their freedom to ridicule it.  

It appears there has been little change since 1708.   In our time, an “artist” made his fame by immersing a cross in a bottle of urine.  Has anyone heard of him or his work before or since?  Some actress of declining notoriety, not talent as it wasn’t there in the first place, had herself posed as if on a cross.  It resurrected her name – for a moment.

This latter point of usefulness reminded me of how President Clinton, when it was proven without doubt that he had sexual affairs and had lied about them to the public as well as under oath, immediately went to TWO different ministers for counseling on his “problem.”  Hillary Clinton’s famous criticism of the “right wing conspiracy of fundamentalists” was another use of Christianity for personal benefit.  At the time, I tried to remember when two different fundamentalist churches had agreed on anything, the idea of their uniting in a national conspiracy was hilarious, but the press didn’t think so.  Actually, this brings up my last point. 

Jonathan Swift also wrote – remember this was three hundred years ago – that having a nominal faith neither helps nor hurts a person in their daily life.  He pointed out that it in no way affected their behavior.  Nominal Christians cheat, lie, swear and drink as much as anyone else.  Swift mused that if military commanders received the same obedience to their orders that nominal Christians give to their religions teachings, they could never lead an army anywhere. 

Swift considered nominal Christianity both useful and necessary for the economy in England.  However, he reiterated that he could not defend “real” Christians, the reason being that in following the rules laid down by Jesus they would completely disrupt the nation as it existed: its politics, its business, and its education.  I suspect he might be right about our day also.  

Family Affairs

By

William D. Dannenmaier

When I was four years of age I had a short-sleeved blue shirt which I loved.  (I know I was four because we moved from that house when I was five.)  One day that shirt disappeared.  I have mourned it ever since.  Now it has reappeared.  My brother Joe often sends me clothes he has outgrown.  In a recent batch, my short-sleeved blue shirt appeared: much worn, but as lovely as ever.  I enjoy wearing it again.  I would not have thought it of Joe.  I was often told how he wanted to put me in the ash pit when I was brought home as a baby, but I thought he outgrew that when he realized what a wonderful and adorable as well as useful younger brother I was.  I’m disappointed.  I’m almost sorry I returned his shoe brush a few years ago that I borrowed in 1953. (I quit shining my shoes when I retired.)  I’ve even thought of returning his book Archie and Mehitabel (Don Marquis) which I borrowed in 1957.  I think I’ll simply re-read it instead.

Mayor Giuliani, running for President, has said that illegal entrance is not a crime and shouldn’t be punished.  Does this mean that people who enter other people’s houses without permission should not be punished?  (Here in Tennessee, if you enter my home against my will and I am concerned for my safety, I have the right to shoot you.)  What other laws do we have that should not be enforced?  We don’t need a President who won’t defend the country.  I’ve thought no one the Republicans put up could make me vote for Hillary, but Giuliani could.

My bride and I spend a lot of time laughing.  Two of Sheila’s recent gems follow.

An article in Fox news reported that scientists have noted an increase in allergies among children raised in current pristine environments, noting that farm children have fewer allergies than children from less germ and bacteria laden environments.  When I asked Sheila if she had read the article, she hadn’t, and when I briefed it to her, her immediate response was, “What a good mother I’ve been!”  (In her recent dream, dust bunnies were multiplying and surrounding her.)

The other occurred yesterday when I was looking for a treat I had stashed.  Carrying in an empty plate to show her the evidence of the missing treat, her response was, “I know you’re on a diet and I’m trying to help you.  Not every man has a wife who is so supportive.”

Recently we brought a chest of drawers out of storage in the smokehouse to give to Megaera and Shane.  Dusty, buggy and spidery, Sheila announced that it couldn’t enter the house until she had time to spray and clean it up.  Stephen decided to help.  When Sheila went to view his accomplishment and commented on it, he told her, “If you or Dad had been around on the seventh day after creation, Dad would have said, ‘A really benevolent God would have provided apple pie, besides which, what’s with this resting for an entire day when there is so much left to do?’ and mom would have checked out every corner of God’s handiwork, looking for dust, and said, “It’s a start.”  Sometimes one wonders about what one’s children think, but most times it is best not to know.

Stephen was wrong, of course, about me, but I know what he means about his mother.  I decided a piece of rough cut lumber would make a nice bread board, so I sanded it down – over a period of about a month – for the bride.  She looked at it and said, “It’s almost right, just a little more sanding.  Two months later, sanding at the rate of about fifteen minutes a day, she finished saying, “It’s almost right,” on her daily inspections.  I thought a three foot bread board was absurd, but then our daughter-in-law Maria visited, saw it, and said, “Oh how nice, could I have one?”  This time I knew what was coming, so I put in about two months of sanding before I showed it to Sheila.  It was “almost right.”  A month later, again at fifteen minutes a day, she thought it was nice enough for her newest daughter-in-law. 

Rummaging through my desk, I discovered I was down to my last two chocolate covered nougats.  The box was taking up space, which I needed.  So I explained to my bride that we knew that, like beer, it was immoral to eat chocolate before noon, so I was willing to eat both to save her conscience.  She replied, “I’ve never agreed with that idea concerning chocolate, I’ll take my piece.  Other women worry about their husbands and other women, my worry is that I have a husband who is a secret chocolate snatcher.”  Darn. 

The City States of America

By

William D. Dannenmaier

It is fortunate that public schools in major cities teach diversity rather than American history and world history.  Otherwise citizens of those cities might have learned that each state’s legislature’s powers were limited to that which occurred within its borders.  The federal government was to control activities which extended beyond state borders and to protect the nation as a whole.  In world history they might have learned how the quarrels between the city states of ancient Greece, which had no overseeing power of a federal government, destroyed the city states themselves. 

Knowledgeable and thoughtful citizens should be concerned about major cities of the United States that have decided that they have the right supersede the laws of the federal government and give “sanctuary” to illegal invaders.  San Francisco, Detroit, Houston and New York have all done this (Marcelo Ballve, www.alternet.org, story 16748).  In more amazing cases, Washington D. C. and Los Angeles are two examples, police chiefs have assumed the right to “not” enforce federal immigration laws.  Is such behavior Constitutional?  Should every state or city police chief have the right to decide which of the federal laws they shall enforce?

It is, of course, highly profitable for cities to declare themselves “sanctuary” cities: profitable for the officials, not for tax payers.  Free schooling, free medical treatment and free unemployment among other “frees” are all available to anyone who breaks the law by entering the United States illegally and obtaining illegal identification.  Such “free” benefits add up to the need for more public employees; such as police officers, teachers, social workers, and their supervisors.  In these “sanctuary” cities federal funds, tax funds, help pay those people.  Representative Tancredo (Colorado) introduced a bill to stop federal funding to cities declaring their independence of federal laws, but his bill failed in Congress.  So taxpayers across the nation, if we are still a nation, have the privilege of paying the salaries of officials who repudiate federal law. 

Many writers, including news people, fail to differentiate between “asylum” and “sanctuary.”  We have federal laws giving asylum, not sanctuary.  Asylum has existed for thousands of years.  It existed in ancient Egypt and is referred to in the Old Testament.  City states in ancient Greece granted asylum to people fleeing other city states. The United Nations has endorsed the idea of asylum, but it is always because a person suffers political, ethnic or religious persecution, never because he is fleeing criminal acts or simply wants to make more money. 

Sanctuary is another matter, a church matter.  Frank Pastore (Townhall.com, August 26, 2007) reports that a young woman telephoned his program defending sanctuary saying, “If there’s a conflict between God’s law and man’s law, the Christian has got to be obedient to God’s law.”  She has forgotten or doesn’t know the quotation attributed to the founder of Christianity, Jesus.  “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesars; and unto God the things that are God’s.  (Matthew 22: 21b, Mark 12: 17, Luke 20: 25.)

Early Christians did both.  They obeyed the laws of the land and the teachings of Jesus.  When Rome adopted Christianity as its official religion, the state became the church and the church gained enormous political power.  The Roman Empire disintegrated but the church maintained its power.  Throughout the dark and the middle ages, the Roman Catholic Church had the power to tax and seize property if taxes were not paid, to imprison, to torture and to execute.  A “nicer” power was that of sanctuary.  Thieves, rapists and murderers could escape punishment by the government if they could get into a church.  An entire set of rules was developed over the centuries concerning the process for gaining sanctuary, too lengthy and complex to report here.

Change came with the Protestant Reformation, which was followed by a reformation of the Roman Catholic Church.  The founders of the United States knew of the problems which had existed in the intertwining powers of church and state: some had experienced them.  In writing and approving the Constitution they specified that church and state are to be separate. There is no such thing as “sanctuary” in our laws.     

A Mexican woman who twice entered the United States illegally, obtained forged Social Security documents and had an illegitimate son has received great publicity.  She spent a year in “sanctuary” in a Methodist church but left there to make a highly publicized trip to California protesting the expulsion of people who break the laws of the United States.  This is neither exceptional nor new.  Some twenty years ago the television news in Massachusetts showed a group of monks dancing happily because they had taken a group of illegal immigrants into their monastery to escape the law.  They should have been arrested and tried for breaking our laws.  So should the Methodist minister who protected the illegal immigrant.

If every police chief and every mayor has a right to ignore federal laws, if our government under the leadership of President Bush refuses to enforce them, even to the extent of imprisoning Border Patrol agents who attempted to arrest a drug trafficker who was entering the country illegally, we have no nation: there is no “United States of America.” 

The President of Mexico and the Mexican senate have been highly critical of our interest in maintaining the security of our borders, while they imprison illegal aliens entering their nation.  Do they have a vested interest in the disintegration of the United States?  Are they seeking a United Mexico which will include California, New Mexico, Arizona, Texas and Colorado?  Illegal aliens marching under the Mexican flag in California, Texas and other states suggests this.

I have been bemused by the reasons given by some of our brain dead Congressional legislators in their calls for the impeachment of President Bush.  They protest the Iraq war, which they voted for, but ignore his more flagrant neglect of his responsibility.

When Bush took office he swore to support and defend the United States, not Iraq or Afghanistan, and he has and is failing to do that.  His Homeland Security Secretary, Michael Cherthoff, rather than enforcing the laws President Bush swore to uphold and pays him to help uphold, is pro-amnesty for illegals (Ann Coulter, Townhall.com August 22, 2007).

Despite having voted for him twice (I couldn’t stomach the alternatives offered by the Democratic Party) I would support a call for impeachment of President Bush for his failure to secure our border with Mexico from the invasion of aliens.  And it is an invasion. 

An Unfinished Business

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Sometimes, in the many sentences I have written, I write a “good” line.  An essay I wrote several years ago had the line “the tree that doesn’t sprout new branches is dead.”  I like that sentence.  It is both simple and true. 

I thought of it the other day in church while I watched a young couple, all snuggles and hugs, and then listened to them discuss their marriage plans after church.  I thought to myself, “They have a lot to learn!” 

Don’t we all?  Each step in life is an unfinished business that we try to finish before we are ready. 

It begins in infancy.  Infants reach for objects before they are capable of grasping them, they struggle to crawl before their arms and legs are sufficiently coordinated to permit success.  After they can crawl, they struggle to stand, then to walk which is when parent’s work really begin.  Young children have no awareness of danger: they can run anywhere, streets mean nothing to them.  I recall my parents talking about how a neighbor, Mr. Caffell, saw my then four year old brother, Joe, crawling over a second story balcony.  He had thrown his baseball hat and it had landed on some telephone wires leading to the house.  He was going out to get it. Mr. Caffell stopped him, and then warned my mother. 

But life itself is a struggle as well as full of dangers.  As a teacher, I often heard second grade children warning first grade children how difficult second grade was.  And it is, if you are seven years old.  But, as I frequently told students preparing to become teachers, children will work hard at anything that they see as important to their lives.  If you don’t believe that, watch them on the playground.  Let an adult try the running and jumping in which children engage daily on playgrounds.  They will quickly learn it is hard work.  It is hard work for the children also.  However they see a reason for what they are doing and they strive to accomplish it. 

In fact, I sometimes believe that children learn more on the playground than they do in some classrooms.  Watch the games they play.  They innovate. They learn to follow rules.  They learn to cooperate.  And they learn that they improve with effort even if they can’t always be successful at everything.  Those are important lessons for life, and more important than what they learn in too many classrooms.

My son Andrew is applying for part-time work and went to get a haircut first.  Previously he had a job with a theatrical group at a theater.  He told me that after he had worked there for a while he was told that when he first approached them, they didn’t really like his appearance and approach.  They weren’t enthusiastic about hiring him, but that they were desperate.  Now, having seen him working for a few weeks they were delighted with his work and gave him additional responsibilities.  When they closed for the season they kept him for two weeks after others had been fired because of his work ethic and the skills he had learned.  He told me he realized he needed to avoid giving the wrong impression with his appearance and manner when he applied for a job. 

A young man of my acquaintance was promised great things when he applied for a job.  After he had been there for a few weeks, he realized they were all false.  A good lesson, one many of us encounter when we are young.  It is not what people say, it is what they do that counts.

Middle age brings its learnings, unfortunately, also.  Companies are much more interested in “promising” twenty year old applicants than in forty year old applicants, often without regard for their accomplishments or skills.  The world of work is not the pleasant world that so many believe and that feminists promise young women.

Mankind is an unfinished business – regardless of your beliefs: theistic or atheistic.  We all have a long way to go. 

I can hear the reader say, “Speak for yourself Bill, when did you last go to school or try to learn something new?”

Well, in fact, I am currently taking banjo lessons.  My fingers are no longer very supple, nor are my desires to practice as strong as my willingness to loaf, but, at seventy-seven, I figure I should know a simple song or two by the time I’m eighty, if I’m still alive.  If not, at least I’ve tried.

The tree that doesn’t sprout new branches is dead.

Random Thoughts

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Since my bride’s decision to try to reduce, we have gone on a stringent diet.  On Mondays and Wednesdays my breakfast consists of a boiled egg.  This morning, she had a doctor’s appointment in Nashville and had to leave home at six.  I assured her that I could feed all of the animals, including me.  I confess, not to her, over the years, my boiled eggs that she has cooked have ranged from watery to hardboiled – neither of which I like.  I have fussed to myself that “anyone can boil an egg!”  So, with her gone, I started to boil my egg.  She says ten minutes start to finish for one I like.  But does she start with cold water, warm water or boiling water?  After puzzling over that problem for a few minutes, I decided to fry my egg.  Later on my morning walk, it occurred to me that I didn’t know how to boil an egg!

My mind wandered on during the walk and I thought of all the other old men I have known who have walked for their “health.”  They all died a year or two after starting their walking regimen.  It made me wonder why I’m being encouraged to walk.  In another four months I’ll be starting my second year. 

On May 12, 2007, Fox News. Com reported on a 28 year old man who had supported himself by feigning mental retardation.  He was finally caught when he was videotaped protesting a parking ticket.  They have not reported on the opposites: those who support themselves by feigning intelligence and get elected to Congress.

Sometimes our family conversations wander.  We had guests the other day and their two year old daughter was trotting from one of our beasts to the other, successfully puzzling our two shepherds and Baxter, a rottweiler mix.  I commented to the visitors that I liked large dogs: while ours were friendly, one never knew how they would react to an unfriendly invader.  At that Stephen spoke up and said that years ago when he was up in the woods two stray dogs with some pit bull markings were chasing him when Thorin, our Pyrenees puppy, came crashing out of the bush.  Thorin hit the one attacker so hard he knocked him into a gully and then attacked the other.  Stephen said he thought Thorin was going to kill the other dog before it succeeded in escaping.  I explained to our visitor that Thorin was a Great Pyrenees, bred to fight wolves and weighing about a hundred and fifty pounds.  Stephen corrected me, saying he only weighed about a hundred and twenty, but that if he had been neutered he would have gone up to a hundred and fifty.  He went on to say that was how they made capons, they neutered young roosters to make them grow larger, that any male neutered grew bigger.  Considering that, now I understand.  I always wondered how they got these giant tackles and guards for professional football.

On August 26, 2007, newsobserver.com reported that the Durham, N.C., police had charged a 93 year old man with cocaine trafficking.  While I disapprove of drug trafficking (In Tennessee this does not include a little moonshine sharing.) this man may have found a solution to the problems of the elderly.  A rarely discussed but generally known fact is that the lower income elderly have difficulty living in our modern world.  Often they lack the money for medical and dental care and nourishing meals.  Those with an income that would provide this frequently lack the mobility to go to places where they can obtain them.  Nursing homes are expensive and, too often, fail to provide necessary care.  Contrast this with the lot of criminals in federal prisons.  They have clean beds, three meals a day, telephones, cable television, all necessary medical and dental care as well as sports equipment for those sufficiently healthy to use it.  I recall that when prisoners at the Fort Leavenworth Penitentiary rioted the warden said he was going to quit serving them t-bone steaks.  They were using the bones as weapons.  Thus the solution for the impoverished elderly.  Commit a federal crime.  Too many young people are injured by drugs, but you can always hold up a few banks – don’t hurt anyone.  If some kindly judge puts you on probation, hold up more.  Eventually you can get a nice slot in a federal prison with good food, medical care and all the television you wish. 

Tillman

By

William D. Dannenmaier

There are times when the actions of Congress and the news media would make possums and vultures vomit. The current Tillman investigation is one of them.

My friend, Charley, was killed while he was laying telephone wire to replace other wire that had been blown up. Charley was a gentle person: no smoking, no drinking and plans to marry and farm when he got home. The only fight that Charley was ever in, to my knowledge, was when he was caught stealing food from the mess hall for a stray dog. Charley was killed because the United States was at war and he volunteered to “do his duty.” He was doing his duty, the duty the army assigned him, when he was killed. Would it help his girl or his family, to know that he was simply laying wire in the wrong place at the wrong time when he was killed?

My friend, Joe, was changing a tire when he was killed. The men who rolled him over said there was just one small mark on his body; one small piece of shrapnel, probably no larger than the piece that cut my foot, hit him in just the right place. He died, they said, quickly and quietly. Would it help anyone who loved him to know that instead of charging an enemy he was simply changing a tire when he died? He was there, in a combat zone, because the army sent him there and he was doing the job the army gave him. Had there been no combat, he never would have been there. To my mind, his was a combat death. Let his loved ones remember that and, if anyone thought to tell them, a painless death.

A man in my platoon stood up at the wrong moment during a fight. His body was brought back. A friend who remains friends with the man who shot him says that man grieves to this day. But it wasn’t his fault. Both of those men were doing their best in a job the Army handed them. It was an unfortunate accident. What good would it do to make great announcements that he died as a result of “friendly” fire?

I wonder if there is anyone who has served time in combat who hasn’t been shot at by his own side or, hasn’t shot at someone from his own side. I was shot at by “friendly fire” twice that I know of. Once, on a patrol, we had been in a fight and returned to the front line in a place where we weren’t expected. We didn’t know how close we were to our own troops until someone threw a grenade at us. We yelled and they let us come in – but kept a machine gun trained on us until they were certain that we were friends, not foes.

On the other occasion, during a daylight patrol, some idiot called in artillery on us. They should have killed all of us as we were out in the open, but they were really lousy shots. Finally, after a half a dozen shells were aimed at us, they caught on that nine men in American uniforms and carrying American weapons might be Americans and quit shooting.

I’ve been on the other side also. One night our bunker door opened and a stranger entered to find several rifles, fingers on triggers, aimed at him. Fortunately, we all held our fire. He was a “new kid on the block” and hadn’t yet learned that you don’t walk into a front line bunker unannounced. People who let people do that get killed.

Combat is a vicious, confusing, dangerous business. People kill and people die. Sometimes people kill the wrong people, but it happens. Why make a national event out of something that is part of combat?

So Pat Tillman was killed by “friendly” fire. So what? He left a job where tens of thousands of people cheered him and he made more money in a year than most of us make in our lives to enter the army and go into combat. He did this voluntarily, because, like Charley and Joe, he thought his country needed him. And we did and we do. Him and thousands more just like him. He should have been permitted to die for what he was, a hero in combat.

The current Congressional investigation and news media frenzy only diminishes him. Shame on them all! They disgust me.

Discomfort, Hurt or Pain?

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Seven months ago, my bride and a team of surgeons and nurses at Baptist Hospital decided to keep me alive. I have few memories of that day or the following twelve days, but it has been an interesting experience ever since.

A fellow patient at the Cardiac Rehabilitation Center at Horizon Hospital made the comment to me that the problem with a heart attack was that it left you feeling terribly alone. I agreed whole-heartedly (as if I still had a whole heart). I had complained of the same thing to my bride, saying the doctors never explained anything to me. She replied that they had said a lot to me, I simply didn’t remember. And I don’t. Of course at the time they were feeding me a handful of different pills every day. (I remember suggesting they serve them in a bowl with sugar and cream.)

My problem with all this recovery and rehabilitation is that people keep asking me if something hurts me, other than my feelings of course - they don’t worry about those. Being one of the old school that if you are working on something and don’t bleed a little you haven’t done a good job, I never know what to answer. What I call “hurt” might be different from what the doctor or nurse asking would call “hurt.” I’d like to suggest that they establish some criteria as to what “pain” is – I think we’ve had enough of what “is” is.

My classification of unwanted feelings includes discomforts, hurts and pains. I’ve had all three at various times in the ten months since my surgery and no one, that I remember, has explained to me what was happening. The most information I’ve received, other than from the visiting nurse and physical therapist during my house arrest period, has come from men who have preceded me down the cardiac trail.

A pain stops whatever you are doing in your tracks, you may even wonder if you will be able to straighten up or move after it stops – at least I have had such wonders. Pain tells you to stop what you are doing. Now!

For starters, I remember little pain, hurt or discomfort during the fifteen days while in the hospital. In fact, the only pain was caused by me. As I continued to tear off the wires they had stuck in me, I began tearing off patches of skin. The last time that I recall doing this, there was one patch that hurt so much when I tried to take if off that I left it on. Otherwise, no pain. I was kept too full of pain killers.

Pain began shortly after I returned home. I don’t like taking pills, so I quit the pain pills soon after arriving home. That is when the fun began, if “fun” can be defined in terms of pains, hurts and discomforts. When I first came home from the hospital, this happened most often at night. Every time I began to roll on my side while in bed a sharp stabbing pain would inform me that I had made a mistake. If I managed to fall asleep on my back, pain resulting from my natural movements during sleep awoke me immediately. I ended up sleeping in a “lazy boy” chair for two or three weeks. It wouldn’t permit me to roll over. About a month following surgery, I could roll over on to my right side, if I did so cautiously, so I returned to my bed, but I had to stay off that left side for over two months after surgery. Needless to say those “stabbing” pains occurred while I was doing normal chores several months after surgery also. I still have them, occasionally, as a result of some “wrong” movement: typically an arm movement with the pain in the upper right part of the chest. When such pains occur, I can only hold the position I’m in until they subside. Then I, cautiously, resume my former activity. Pain stops you in your tracks!

A “hurt” catches your attention. It may even cause you to momentarily halt or change an activity. One morning last week, almost nine months after the surgery, my chest began hurting as I started my walk. I don’t know why: perhaps too active the previous few days. Anyway, it hurt, but it didn’t stop me from taking my walk. It only made the walk more difficult the first mile and kept me from enjoying it. Eventually, my chest stopped hurting. I had this more often, much more often, in the months immediately following surgery. Sometimes it felt as if my chest was filled with one of those “bubble” plastics that are used to protect the contents of packages in the mail. As I did my exercises in cardiac rehabilitation, they felt as if they were bubbling and exploding in my chest. The nurse was able to feel them on one occasion – which led to demands that I go back to my doctor, which I eventually did – our nurse, Mary Ann, is a bit of a nag. I’ve wondered if that feeling didn’t come from gas, and I seem to have gas in my chest, something I never experienced before.

A “discomfort” is an annoyance, a real condition such as a cut on your arm, and one you are aware of but which does not distract your attention to any great extent and doesn’t hinder your activity. Eight months after my surgery, which included five by-passes, I continue to have many of these. They normally occur when I go to bed or first get up in the morning. At such times, my chest seems to be re-adjusting itself. There are many little “crackles” and movements in my chest. In the first few months following surgery these were frequent and so “loud” that I was certain my wife should be able to hear them, but now I believe they were simply feelings I had which made no noise that others could hear. Occasionally, but less now than a month or two ago, they would wake me in the night as I turned in the bed. Now, ten months after surgery, I have them between lying down to go to sleep and falling asleep and, again, first thing in the morning. They normally disappear after I’m up and moving about. Again, these are not really pains or hurts, they are simply annoyances or discomforts which are gradually subsiding in intensity and becoming less frequent – none this morning for example.

I have written the above in the hope that others who have survived the process will let me know how similar my experiences have been to their experiences. If I hear from others who have “enjoyed the process,” I shall try to consolidate their experiences into mine (No names will be given.) and make them available publicly. On a slightly hopeful note, it might ease the concerns of anyone following who, like me, is concerned about what is happening and doesn’t know if he is in the process of tearing himself back open or if this is part of the process of healing.

I’d appreciate anyone reading this who knows someone who is in the process of recovering from heart surgery to pass this request on to them. Thanks. Bill Dannenmaier (wdannenmaier@msn.com)

Birds are Bright

By

William D. Dannenmaier

On my way home from my walk the other day, I stopped to talk to Rose Swaggerty, Don and Peggy Hall’s daughter. (I’m always pleased to stop and talk towards the end of my morning three mile walk.)

I told Rose that when I had gone past her house on my way up the hill, a doe had stood where the edge of her lawn met the woods and watched me walk past – a lovely graceful animal. She replied, “Oh yes, and we also have a buck and a faun that come out. On the Fourth of July we were setting off some fireworks and the buck came out of the woods and watched. We can be sitting on the porch laughing and talking and they will still come out. We also have turkeys that wander about when we are on the porch. They are not afraid of us.”

I commented that I believe we seriously underestimate the intelligence of animals.  Terms such as “bird brain” have led us to think that birds have no brains, but my experience is quite the opposite. My bride and I have a bird feeder hanging on our small back porch where we frequently sit in the evening or just to rest during the day. We have all of the common birds: chickadees, various sparrows, downy woodpeckers, cardinals and nuthatches, but we also have gold finches, purple finches and even an indigo bunting (although he sits on a branch and watches us, not coming to the feeder until we leave). We even had an oriole once. Mourning doves don’t come to the feeder, but they will walk up to the porch while we are sitting there to eat seeds the others have dropped. Sometimes I think I could reach out and touch some of them.

What is interesting is that most of them won’t come if a stranger is sitting with us, the exceptions being the chickadees, tufted titmice and the sparrows, but even they are more hesitant at such times and only come after that stranger has been there awhile. I wasn’t aware of this until my newest daughter, Maria, was first visiting. A native of Bolivia she noticed a cardinal at a distance and said, “Oh, I hope it comes to the feeder. I’d like to see it up close.” But it never did. In fact none of the more colorful birds came close while she was there, despite my telling her if she would just sit a while they would come as it was their feeding time.

To kill time, hoping they would come, I told her of the time that Sheila and I sat there and watched about a dozen small birds of various species flying up in one crowded flock. In a once and only occurrence, to me, they flew into the front of the porch, right over our heads, and out the side. Startled, I looked in the direction from whence they came and saw a sparrow hawk. It spotted me about the same time and abandoned the chase, wheeling silently and returning in the direction from which it came. I can only believe that those birds realized we were safe and flew to us for protection from the hawk.

Unfortunately, the time delay talking to Maria was wasted. My more exotic birds never came when she was there, not even the cardinals.

Thinking about this, I remembered conversations I had with young people, mostly women, during my working days as a psychologist and professor of psychology. Seriously unhappy, they would sit and tell me about their unhappy love affairs. So often they had met someone, fallen deeply in love and committed themselves to a relationship expecting a future of marriage. After a year or two the man would be ready for other relationships, leaving a bitterly unhappy, often distressed, young woman. Young men never did. My wife noted once, when working for the census, that a single woman in a two person relationship would always volunteer that she lived with her “fiancé,” men never did, they would say, “My girlfriend lives with me.” Talking to the girls, I would suggest sometimes that churches were better places to meet people than bars or that “living with” someone meant no commitment was wanted.

My birds were cautious before they committed themselves, my coeds weren’t. I can only conclude that birds are a lot smarter than some humans. Having a “bird brain” would be an improvement for many humans.

Random Thoughts

By

William D. Dannenmaier

Do you know why so many men are hard of hearing? It is God’s gift to husbands.

Our California billionaires running Congress are talking about re-instituting the “Fairness Doctrine” for radio. In other words, radio stations would be forced to run programs that we peasants aren’t interested in listening to in order to “balance” political news and statements. They are also concerned about blogs on the internet.

I notice that there is no mention of a “Fairness Doctrine” for major newspapers, ABC, CBS and NBC or the Public Broadcasting System. Also, how about late night talk shows? Freedom of speech and programming only applies to Left wing millionaire radicals hiding under the name of “Liberal.”

Congresswoman Pelosi is complaining about Congress not doing anything this year. Too bad she isn’t someone important, like Speaker of the House. If she were, I’m certain she could accomplish great things in a week or two, perhaps in seven days.

Prime Minister Brown, the new and forceful leader of England, refuses to attribute terrorist acts to Muslims. (Sounds like a social work scientist: never seek the source of an evil, that way you can continue being paid to study it forever without any danger of stopping it.) Perhaps he has taken a lesson from our airport security. To avoid the very idea that Muslims might be responsible for terrorist attacks on civilians, guards are careful to search - carefully - old men, Christian ministers and attractive women, especially blondes (the last according to Ann Coulter).

The Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) has declared war on Columnist Cal Thomas (Breitbart.tv, July 4) for comparing the spreading terrorism of Muslim fanatics to a spreading cancer. It’s too bad that CAIR has been so slow in condemning the numerous bombings and killing of innocents who don’t support some particular brand of Islam in Spain, Britain, the United States, the Philippines, and Pakistan: not to mention the Near East and North Africa.

My neighbor, Ms Lillian, died. If she had lasted another month, she would have been 98. She was my friend so my bride and I visited the funeral parlor to pay our last respects. Standing with her daughter at the casket there was one of those awkward moments. Then I said, “She was my friend, but she was hard to live with some times.” That broke the ice and her daughter and I began swapping “Ms Lillian” stories.

The truth is, all old people are hard to live with – and more than sometimes. At 77, following a series of heart attacks and fifteen days in a hospital where I was an unwelcome guest, I now spend an hour and a half each day exercising, my bride watches what I eat and I have promised Dr. Odom’s nurse that I will take my “heart” medicine, which was one of the pills I’d stopped taking. I’m not alone in such self absorption. We all become self-centered as we become old. We must. We have to be. It is easy to ignore your body when you are young - twenty or forty or sixty – but when age finally strikes, you must pay attention, unless you think the world would be better without you (which it might be).

I just received an e-mail from my friend and doctor, Dr. Smith. During a recent medical check-up he was pleased to hear I’m taking banjo lessons. He sent jokes about banjo players. My favorite was the answer to “What is the difference between a banjo and a South American Macaw?” “One is loud, obnoxious and noisy, and the other is a bird.”

Dr. Smith is an expert on the bass fiddle, which I’ve been told is a musical instrument.

My days have never been filled with respect for sociologists and social workers – I’ve known too many too well – but some have done some useful and thoughtful work. I’ve always given them credit for coming up with the idea, and evidence to support it, that laughter and ridicule do more to change people’s minds than reason. But just today, opening “The Screwtape Letters” by C. S. Lewis, I find the following quotes. “The best way to drive out the Devil, if he will not hold to texts of Scripture, is to jeer and flout him, for he cannot bear scorn.” (Martin Luther) and “The devil…cannot endure to be mocked.” (Sir Thomas More). I do not know who said it first, Martin Luther died in 1546 and More in 1535, but they obviously beat American sociologists to the punch by 400 years.

So the devil cannot endure scorn. All the more reason to continue making fun of Pelosi, Reid, Murtha and crew. Their mindless followers won’t listen to reason, but they will listen to ridicule, join in the laughter and – possibly - think.