Source Material

The Queen has been out on her annual fall trek through the thrift stores hunting clothing and other apparel for our upcoming trip (hopefully Haweewee if it doesn't get blown off the map by the hurricane currently spinning up in the Pacific). So, she sends me a text at the office with the a photo of the following t-shirt:

She allowed as how it was the perfect shirt for me...since I typically refuse to accept much of anything without critically assessing the facts and source material.

I can't help it. I come by my flaw honestly as I was trained that way by a wise, old, Jesuit priest turned history professor in my history methodology class. The man had to be in his 70s at least at the time, and that was...more than a few years ago. Let's just say, if that man is still creeping around this old mud ball, I'm shooting him in the head on general principle. You can't be too careful to prevent a zombie outbreak.

God will sort it out.

Anyspeculation, there was a point to this post. I'm sure of it.

Oh yes...critical assessment of facts and source material.

That old Jesuit had all us wannabe history majors do a project (a research paper really) the main point of which was an annotated bibliography. He didn't really care what the subject of the paper was as long as the bibliography was annotated with a critical assessment of the source material including whether it was primary, secondary, tertiary, etc. He also wanted us to take it a step further and assess whether the source material exhibited any bias (this came back to bite me in the butt with my African history professor, but that's a story for another time).

Fast forward mumble, mumble years, and that is one the lessons that has stuck with me to this day. Unfortunately, I think this lesson has been lost on an entire generation (or more) of people.

Case on point. The other night, I come home from work to find two, brand new, freshly purchased boxes of Cheerios (M&M's preferred breakfast cereal) on a pile of stuff being gathered for donation. I queried The Queen as to the reason suspecting something was afoot.

The Queen informed me that my father-in-law, Opa, had told her that he had read an article somewhere that claimed Cheerios contained dangerous levels of a particular pesticide residue. Opa is one of those people for whom a little information is a dangerous thing (no, seriously, he's never met an internet scare of conspiracy theory that he hasn't latched onto). He really should not be let loose with an internet connection without a minder.

This revelation, as one would expect, caused my eyebrows to raise and set off my facial tics just a touch.

I set about investigating the claim du juor. Opa was questioned regarding the source of the Cheerios Challenge. After much fumbling about the dustier corners of his memory, we were able to tease out the source of the pesticide proposition. It was a news article from the Detroit Free Press linked to from the Natural News website referring to a study done by a group called Environmental Working Group.

Now we were getting somewhere. I start doing my due diligence on EWG. EWG claims to be a non-profit, non-partisan organization dedicated to protecting human health and the environment. A laudable goal to be sure. Funding is primarily from grants and individuals. Notable names among the donor list is the Walton Family Foundation (think Sam Walton of Wal-Mart fame) and The Turner Foundation (Ted Turner - CNN Founder). They also have corporate partnerships with many of the bigger names in organic foods.

Nothing about this is particularly alarming. It's not like George Soros or the Koch Brothers are involved. Having said that, did I mention EWG has a lobbying arm? Silly me. That must have slipped my mind. And regarding what issues do they lobby? Environmental, agricultural, food, toxic chemicals, etc.

So, they are environmental advocates. Again, nothing particularly wrong with that, but it could color their findings on certain topics or influence their reporting of facts. We'll get back to that in a minute.

I tracked down the article EWG posted about glysophate levels in foods. Glysophate, for the uninitiated, is the evil active ingredient in RoundUp (created by the nefarious mega corporation Monsanto...yes, I'm being a tad tongue in cheek). It seems that EWG commissioned a laboratory study of glysophate levels in common breakfast cereals. The article published by EWG reporting the results of the lab study started with a link to a recent California jury verdict in which Monsanto was ordered to pay $289 million to a plaintiff dying of cancer allegedly caused by exposure to glysophate. They then get into a discussion of the levels of glysophate in food allowed by the California Office of Environmental Health Hazard Assessment (1.1 milligrams per day for a 154 pound average person), the EPA (not specifically noted by referenced to be 60 times higher than the CA state allowable level) and the EWG's calculated "one in a million" cancer risk of 0.01 milligrams per day.

The original article I read did not "show their work" on the math, but it seems to have been corrected as they now report that a person would have to eat a 60 gram serving of food exceeding 160 parts per billion glysophate concentration to reach their calculated risk level of 0.01 millgrams per day (which, by the way, is 110 times lower than the  level the state of California says is too much which in turn is 60 times lower than what the EPA says is too much). So, just to put a bow on the math, EWG is saying that the safe level of glysophate in foods SHOULD be 6600 times lower than the level currently allowed by the EPA. They don't make a convincing case for why the level should be 6600 times lower than the EPA or 110 times lower than the state of California. Instead, they seem content to make the argument that it is a chemical linked to cancer and is therefore bad in any quantity.

For the record, I'm not volunteering to drink or otherwise consume 1.056 million parts per billion (that's 160 parts per billion times 6600) concentrations of glysophate in my daily Cheerios; and, truthfully, EWG may not be wrong in their conclusion. I just take issue with the manner in which they are presenting their information.

Back to the report on the study results. First off, the article currently on their website has been drastically revised from the version I read a few days ago, and I really wish I had a screen capture or PDF copy of the original to compare and contrast. The current version shows that EWG took samples of 45 conventional breakfast cereals and 16 organic breakfast cereals and tested them for glysophate concentration. They then report the test results in concentration parts per billion for each sample. All fine and dandy so far. Where things really went off the rails in the original article was that samples results were grouped according to which ones had unsafe levels (color coded in red...for contrast I'm sure). The thing that really bugged me in the original was that  they did not make it clear that the table of results categorized each product according to EWG's much lower concentration level.

To clarify further, the report starts out talking about concentration levels in milligrams per weight before  shifting to parts per billion in the lab results table. The revised article does now provide a brief conversion from milligrams per serving to parts per billions, but the original article did not.

Even in the revised article, if someone is not reading carefully, they might miss that critical distinction. The skeptic in me suspects that was EWG's intent in order to advocate for a new, lower standard for safe concentration levels.

Another, in my opinion, glaring omission from EWG's article is the results of other scientific testing on glysophate, a discussion of the MSDS sheet on the chemical, etc. For instance, it took me literally seconds to find out that the WHO and UN studies on glysophate determined that mammal animal models suggest that concentrations as high as 2000 milligrams per kilogram of  body weight was not associated with genotoxic effects. There's more detail out there than I'm willing to transcribe or cut and paste here. Bottom line is that you would probably have to ingest enough to drown yourself before you'd be at a legitimate risk of getting cancer, and you'd probably puke it up before you got close to those dosage levels.

After I pointed out these little details, the Cheerios mysteriously reappeared in the pantry.

Now, this is just one little drop of questionable information in a practical galactic ocean of information floating around the internet. Why should you care? Well, the president attacks CNN almost daily accusing them of being fake news. Fox News claims to be fair & balanced. Alex Jones gets banned from social media for making wild claims reported as news. For every EWG, there is a company or interest group lobbying for the opposite position. And let's not forget all those companies out there trying to make a buck selling snake oil and legitimate products.

Everyone, it seems, is publishing information at the speed of light. The incredible quantity of information being published everyday makes it impossible to fact check it all. That is why it is so incredibly important to learn to critically assess source material.

So, the next time you hear someone ranting about the latest scandal, conspiracy theory, social justice melt down...etc. Take a step back and dig into the source material with a critical eye. I'd bet that, more often than not, you'll find discrepancies in the reporting that will be most illuminating.

Advice for M&M

1. "Murphy hates you. Personally." - LawDog 

See Murphy's Law. Most people don't know this, but there really was a Murphy. According to the generally accepted story, he was an engineer working on the program to develop the first jet aircraft ejection seats. While he never uttered the infamous and eponymous law in it's currently accepted form, he did say something that evoked the spirit of the law which was later paraphrased and attributed to him. 

2. Gravity sucks. Corollary - it's not just a good idea, it's a law.

3. Treat electricity with respect. See #1. Remind me one of these days to tell you the story of why I never trusted Granddaddy Aubrey. If anyone ever asks you to hold a spark plug wire, the answer is an emphatic "NO!!!" unless they agree that you will be holding it against their most sensitive anatomy.

4. Behind every warning label is an idiot with a lawyer. As the saying goes, I'm not advocating killing all the stupid people. I'm just saying let's remove all the warnings and let nature take its course. 

5. "Be nice until it's time to not be nice" Patrick Swayze as John Dalton in Roadhouse. The United States Marine Corps General John Mattis version is also instructive: "Be polite, be professional, but have a plan to kill everybody you meet."

6. There is no moral superiority in being a dead victim. God makes allowances for self defense, and turning the other cheek has nothing to do with meekly waiting for a bullet or a knife. If attacked, fight like you are the third monkey in line for the ark...and brother it's starting to rain. 

7. "It is easy to critique in leisure what a person had to do in haste." YouTuber/Firearms Trainer Paul Harrell

The longer version of this quote in the same video discussing the 1986 Miami FBI Shootout is: "It's very easy with the leisure of years to think about it what others did when they had seconds to decide on a course of action." Corollary: Hindsight is 20/20. Learn from the mistakes of other, and be thankful you didn't have to make that mistake yourself. However, don't fall into the trap of thinking you could/would have done better under the same circumstances. 

8. Napoleon Bonaparte's maxim, "Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake". 

Monday Madness

More Advice for M&M

1. “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

Sadly, after almost 50 years, the pendulum has swung to the other extreme in which all white people are presumed to be racist simply because they are white.

2. “Those convinced against their will are of the same opinion still.” Dale Carnegie

You never win an argument even if you are "right".

3. "The world is made for average sized people." - Daddy Hawk

Short people and tall people alike are forced to deal with a world that was not designed with them in mind. I have had three concussions that bear witness to this simple truth.

4. "Beware the man driving an old, beat up, pickup truck." - Daddy Hawk

Odds are close to even money that he's not afraid to put another dent in the truck if you drive like a jerk.

Corollary to 4. Right of way is something you yield, not something you take.

5. “No man’s life, liberty, or property are safe while the legislature is in session.” – Mark Twain

More Advise For M&M

1) Drink the good stuff....and learn to savor it.

I remember when I was in college my buddies would all chip in and buy a case or two of the cheapest rat urine beer they could find for a weekend of drinking. Keystone Light was their usual poison of choice as I recall. I was the oddball who brought a six pack of real beer (I was known to bring anything from Miller Genuine Draft to for real from Germany Oktoberfest beer) and still managed to go home with at least two bottles for later consumption.

2) [or corollary to 1) above] Whiskey should be old enough to drive....or at least old enough to reach the pedals.

Anything younger than 12 years should really come with a chaperon in the form of a mixer of some flavor. 12 to 15 years old can be allowed some latitude but should generally require a curfew that ends at the same time happy hour does. Anything older than 15 should be savored without anymore distraction than maybe a large ice cube.

3) Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty.

Hard work never hurt noboby, and you wash.

4) "You are not what you think you are. What you think, you are."

I heard this in a sermon recently, and it's true.

5) Make plans to do stuff. It's important to have things to look forward to.

It doesn't have to be elaborate. It doesn't have to be expensive. It can be anything as long as it is something.

6) Every safety rule is written in blood.

Corollary - Behind every warning label is an idiot with a lawsuit.

Go read the Darwin Awards if you need proof.

Truth

"...no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away." - Sir Terry Pratchett Reaper Man

Try to make a big splash.

This Resonated With Me

I very rarely link to other stuff, but I spotted this today and thought it was worthy.

It's an article on Slate about a freelance cartoonist that illustrated a quote from Calvin & Hobbes creator Bill Watterson in the style of Calvin & Hobbes.

Enjoy.

Update

Not much to report on the job search front. At last count, I've put out 20 or 21 job applications and received 5 formal rejections. In addition, I am working with several recruiters and a couple of people in my extended business associate network. The brightest possibilities are a recruiter with an AVP position in Dallas and a business associate with a yet to be defined possibility in Fort Worth. The AVP position is with a company where I still know several people including one of the VPs. It's a good company, and I can see myself being happy in the role. I am reportedly one of three candidates currently under consideration, but it is a nationwide search and there is no indication of when they will be moving to interview stage.

The other deal, despite being somewhat nebulous and undefined at the moment, has some advantages as well. Hopefully, one or more dominoes will start falling soon.

In other news, The Queen and I were forced to file third degree felony theft charges against someone yesterday for the first time in our lives. I can't go into details yet, but the short of it is that we were the victims of a con artist. There are aspects of the situation that would make your blood boil were I to share. "Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord"....but, let's just say I'd be happy to arrange a meeting.

Lots of lessons learned and relearned out of this experience. In this digital age, the information is out there. You just have to know where to look, how to look and take the time to be thorough. Don't do business with anyone you haven't thoroughly vetted. Big deals (if you can't afford to lose, it's a big deal) should include a background check especially if things don't pass the smell test.

As I told The Queen last night, it's easy to spot evil when it's walking down the street shooting people left and right. It's real hard to spot it when it sits down, siddles up next to you and smiles.

Abraham Lincoln said it even better: "You can fool all of the people some of the time...." This was our time.

We are resigned to the fact that we will likely never see our property again or the money that was promised (if we do, that's a bonus). Our goal is to simply insure that the thief can't do this again to anyone else. There are two other felony theft cases pending against him which we really wish we had found before we entered into an agreement with him (we would have found it if we had searched for Stephen instead of Steve). He's currently under a deferred adjudication order in another county for theft charges there. He's also being sued in civil court by someone else for circumstances nearly identical to ours (I'm in contact with that attorney trying to convince them to file criminal charges as well).

If you are in the Dallas/Fort Worth area and want to know who to avoid, send me an email. I'll be happy to share the name, court case references, etc.

More of Daddy Hawk's Advise for M&M

1.    "You are always beholden to someone." Mimi

            Whether we like it or not, no one is truly independent unless they choose to reject society entirely and live life as a hermit. Whether you view it as a responsibility or a common courtesy, there will always be those in your life to whom must keep informed of your intentions and continued existence.

2.  Learn to live on less than you earn.

            If you can do this one simple thing, you will likely never have to worry about money. I am a big fan of Dave Ramsey's message on financial peace and managing your money. I haven't always been successful at implementing that in my own life, but I'm working on it. I would encourage you to learn to live on 50% of your take home income if you can swing it and no more than 70% of your take home pay. That way you will always have your tithe and savings built into your budget.

3. Decide what is important to you in life, and make your choices accordingly.

            This is another episode in learning from Daddy Hawk's mistakes. When I was younger, I never took the time to decide what was important to me. I tended to, and still do to a certain extent, react to circumstances as they arose rather than proactively planning a course of action. Education was important because my mother made it important. It didn't matter what kind of education as long as I got one. Likewise, I never took the time to determine what made me happy and made my life more meaningful. I have always felt the need to build and create; and, yet, I got a degree in liberal arts and pursued a career in a knowledge based service industry. I have been fortunate to have found a wife and been blessed with a daughter who give me tremendous enjoyment and make my life more meaningful. However, there is still a part of me that wants to go back and kick my 15 year old self in the head to wake up and make some intelligent decisions instead of coasting along aimlessly.

4. "Let food be thy medicine and medicine be thy food." Hippocrates (460 to 370 BC)

            In some respects, food has a bigger impact on how you feel than any other thing in your life. A lot of medical and health literature refers to a connection between the mind and the gut. I have found that to be true in my own life. When I am stressed, my gut is upset. Also, food allergies are a huge deal now too. More so than when I was a kid. For myself, when I avoid gluten and caffeine and limit dairy, I feel much better, my skins clears up and my sinus congestion lessens if not disappears entirely. There is a reason The Queen and I have avoided exposing you to the typical "kid diet" of McDonald's chicken McNuggets. We have also tried to provide you with the best food we can lay our hands on and expose you to a wide variety of foods and cooking styles. Keep that in mind as you get older. Food can be very comforting too. There are times when nothing makes you happier than a particular food.

5. Everything in moderation, except moderation.

            Excess and obsession in any aspect of your life can become unhealthy. Gluttony can lead to obesity and serious health issues. Drunkeness and drug addiction have serious side effects in addition to potential legal complications. Spending too much time on social media can lead to problems interacting in the real world. Learn when to stop or say that's enough.

Not Feeling It Today...

...; and, yet, I promised to post content everyday this month.

SoOOoo....

I think I will leave you with this pearl of wisdom from the CEO of my company:

At a certain age, you never pass up a bathroom and never trust a fart. 

An Obituary to be Envied

Not mine of course. Candance at Crazy Texas Mommy got around to writing an obit for her recently deceased father-in-law. I may have to commission her to write mine if she is still alive at the time of my inevitable and hopefully long overdue demise. That's assuming I can't find the person who wrote this obit supposedly published in 2006. I say supposedly because I found it on Neal Boortz's website sometime back, and he was known to put up the odd bit of fictional humor from time to time. So, take it for the grain of salt that it is.

Frederic Arthur (Fred) Clark, who had tired of reading obituaries noting other's courageous battles with this or that disease, wanted it known that he lost his battle as a result of an automobile accident on June 18, 2006. True to Fred's personal style, his final hours were spent joking with medical personnel while he whimpered, cussed, begged for narcotics and bargained with God to look over his wife and kids. He loved his family. His heart beat faster when his wife of 37 years Alice Rennie Clark entered the room and saddened a little when she left. His legacy was the good works performed by his sons, Frederic Arthur Clark III and Andrew Douglas Clark MD, PhD., along with Andy's wife, Sara Morgan Clark. Fred's back straightened and chest puffed out when he heard the Star Spangled Banner and his eyes teared when he heard Amazing Grace. He wouldn't abide self important tight *censored*. Always an interested observer of politics, particularly what the process does to its participants, he was amused by politician's outrage when we lie to them and amazed at what the voters would tolerate. His final wishes were "throw the bums out and don't elect lawyers" (though it seems to make little difference). During his life he excelled at mediocrity. He loved to hear and tell jokes, especially short ones due to his limited attention span. He had a life long love affair with bacon, butter, cigars and bourbon. You always knew what Fred was thinking much to the dismay of his friend and family. His sons said of Fred, "he was often wrong, but never in doubt". When his family was asked what they remembered about Fred, they fondly recalled how Fred never peed in the shower - on purpose. He died at MCV Hospital and sadly was deprived of his final wish which was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to buy booze for a double date to include his wife, Rush Limbaugh and Ann Coulter to crash an ACLU cocktail party. In lieu of flowers, Fred asks that you make a sizable purchase at your local ABC store or Virginia winery (please, nothing French - the *censored*) and get rip roaring drunk at home with someone you love or hope to make love to. Word of caution though, don't go out in public to drink because of the alcohol related laws our elected officials have passed due to their inexplicable terror at the sight of a MADD lobbyist and overwhelming compulsion to meddle in our lives. No funeral or service is planned. However, a party will be held to celebrate Fred's life. It will be held in Midlothian, Va. Email fredsmemory@yahoo.com for more information. Fred's ashes will be fired from his favorite cannon at a private party on the Great Wicomico River where he had a home for 25 years. Additionally, all of Fred's friend (sic) will be asked to gather in a phone booth, to be designated in the future, to have a drink and wonder, "Fred who?"

Published in the Richmond Times-Dispatch on 7/9/2006.

Followers and Other Stuff

I think I've beat my record for lack of posting. As of today, it's been 33 or 34 days since I posted (unless you count "The Ever Evolving Wishlist" page I added two days ago). I sincerely apologize. In my defense, things have been a bit busy in real life. In the past month, I've had two serious claims that required "drop everything and get there now" travel. The Queen managed to wrench a muscle in her back which has really hampered her child care taking abilities. When I'm done doing stuff at the end of the day, it's generally late and I'm too tired to look at a computer.

Bad me.

Before I go further, I'd like to welcome a couple of new followers. A Girl of A Girl And Her Gun has graced this humble space with her presence. I've been following her for a while now. She has an inspiring story for those who have not yet come into contact with her. I would encourage anyone with even a passing interest in self defense to check her out. She takes her training and personal protection seriously...as we all should. Also, someone blogging at Encourage One Another has decided to hang their hat here. Welcome. Feel free to let me hear from you.

I also received a message on Facebook from a girl I went to high school with who told me she's been reading the blog. It still amazes me when folks I know actually show up here and read my stuff. Welcome, Tracy. Not one word in the comments about my 80s mullet. Zip it. That goes for you too, Tena.

Now, in the midst of life swirling around me the last month or so, I had an email exchange with cyber friend Kymber who came up with an even BETTER name for Little Miss Cobra. Kymber called her the Banshee. So, I am shamelessly stealing her intellectual content while silently cursing myself for not thinking of it sooner. From now on, LMC will be forever known as The Banshee. With her brother, they are Mini Me and The Banshee. Sounds like an interesting name for a band if you ask me. Thanks, Kymber.

While on that subject, Mini Me and The Banshee are still with us. We are making some progress with The Banshee's noise making tendencies. She no longer howls and screams when getting her diaper changed. Huge plus at 7:00 AM when I am trying to get ready for work. Trust me. Car rides are more pleasant too. She still wails like a tornado siren when she is not being held and feels that she should be which is pretty much anytime she is awake and active. Those magical times when she has just eaten or is interested in something like the tassles on my dress shoes are wonderful though, she seems almost angelic...then she turns into Jack Jack at the end of The Incredibles.

We continue our efforts to instruct Mini Me in the fine art of honesty. Please allow me to share a brief scene with you from this past Sunday's Father's Day Dinner at The Cheesecake Factory.

The setting: Mini Me next to me. The Queen across from me with M&M sacked out on the bench cushion next to her. The Banshee plotting revenge in the high chair between The Queen and I. Dinner arrives. Mini Me was ordered grilled chicken, mashed taters and steamed carrots...all things he has eaten previously and liked but not what he wanted to order (hamburger and fries).

Mini Me (after poking at his food): I got a 'tomak ache.

Me: Are you sure? I think you just don't want to eat what you have in front of you.

Mini Me (nodding his head): My 'tomak hurts.

Me: Well, here's the deal. If you really don't feel well, you don't have to eat anymore. BUT, that will be your breakfast tomorrow.

Mini Me: Well, maybe I can eat some now.

Me: Mini Me, you know what you just did don't you.

Mini Me (nodding head): [mumble, mumble]

Me: What's that?

Mini Me: yes, sir.

Me: That's right. You lied. [The Queen], since Mini Me said he was sick, I think we should take him to the emergency room. What do you think?

The Queen: I think that's a great idea.

Mini Me (face draining of all color, water works beginning, sobbing): NO! Don't take me to the doctor. I'll never lie again. I promise.

I wish I could have taken a picture of the look on his face. It was priceless. He HATES going to the doctor. Despises it with a passion. The fear in his eyes was genuine. He wasn't sure we weren't going to take him to the ER until we pulled into the driveway at the house. Yes, it was evil, I know.

While I'm thinking about it, I received a genuine honor recently from fellow blogger, GunDiva. She invited me to be a contributor to a blog she runs called The GunDivas. I haven't had a chance to post anything there yet, but there will eventually be content cross posted here from there. Or vice versa. We'll figure it out. One of the contributors there is a real life, "I get paid to do this", published author by the name of Tara Jansen. So, I am in good company. Hopefully, I can live up to the honor.

There was apparently some confusion amongst the readership on the subject of M&M. She remains in our care. Prying her out of The Queen's hands for a little daddy time is becoming more of a challenge though. She is almost ready to crawl. She is up on all fours and rocking back and forth. She scoots around surprisingly well. She also has a couple of teeth breaking through, and she's started on baby foods. She has a "delightful" habit of "motorboating" while she is being fed resulting in all around her getting splattered with food. It's hysterical until it gets in your eye.

There is a court status hearing scheduled for next week. It is our understanding that a trial on the parents' rights will be set at that time. Such a trial is not likely to occur until the fall at the earliest and could be as late as December. We have some other news on that front as well that I, unfortunately, cannot talk about in detail here yet. The short of it is that the out of state cousin is no longer in the picture. The Queen and I were shocked to say the least. If I ever can post details here, you will see that it really was a miracle and answered prayer.

In the meantime, I am going to try and get back in the swing of posting here more regularly again. I have several ideas for posts. There's the Magellan Award to discuss, there's some thoughts about a political theory I've been kicking around, thoughts about the current state of goverment at all levels, thoughts on cars I've owned and pets that have owned me, and I still haven't gotten around to posting about learning to fly and other things from my murky past.

All in do time.

The New Foster Midgets

As of today, it has been two weeks since The Queen and I were charged with taking in two new tricycle motors*. I thought I would take a brief respite from my workday to give you their story.

It was a bright and sunshiney (not to mention freaking hot – temps were in the high 80s low 90s) Friday afternoon. I had just arrived in the lobby of the building where I work to await The Queen’s arrival in her chariot to whisk me away to faraway retail establishments for purpose of selecting new clothes for work when, at around 5:30, my iLeash rang. It was The Queen.

The Queen said, “I just got a call from Robin (who is the director of our foster parent/adoption agency), and she has an eight month old girl and a four year old boy that need a home right away. What do you think?”

After all we have been through over the last couple of months with M&M’s situation, “What Do You Think?” is a loaded question to be perfectly honest. However, in a moment of blissful insanity, I didn’t bother to think. I said, “Tell her to bring ‘em on.” Sometimes, you just have to lead with your chin. Which would explain why my jaw is occasionally very sore.

So, further shopping plans were abandoned like a campaign promise after the election returns are in, and we hurried home to meet the new minions. I should point out here that “hurried” is a relative term when applied to Dallas traffic on a Friday afternoon when combined with The Queen’s luck with navigation. She has won the Magellan Award for Creative Navigation on more than one occasion; however, that is a story for another time. Suffice it to say for now, that The Queen was a wee bit flustered by the call, missed her turn(s) and had to backtrack her way to my office.

We made it home just about a half hour ahead of the CPS caseworker (a different one from the one handling M&M’s case) which gave us just enough time to do a hasty, whirlwind tour of cleaning and straightening through the house. As you may recall, the heat pump at the castle was most thoroughly and totally dead at this point, and the thermostat in the house read a (un)breezy 89 degrees inside. We chose to wait for the kiddos outside where it was a little more bearable.

CPS arrived (in three separate cars no less – why, I have no idea – our tax dollars at work) at around 7:00, and we met our new feral house monkeys. The four year old boy, who I will henceforth refer to as Mini Me because he reminds me a lot of myself at his age, was very shy at first. He clutched a bag of Wendy’s chicken nuggets and fries in one hand and a soda in the other. He didn’t want to look anyone in the eye, and didn’t say anything.

His little eight month old sister (half sister actually as we later found out), however, had plenty to say. At full volume no less. She came out of the car in her car seat screaming bloody murder which I’m sure included several not so kind words and thinly veiled threats in her version of baby speak. I would like to refer to her as SCREAMER!!!!!11!!!!! in honor of the cute little killing machines with handy dandy saw blades from the scifi movie of the same name starring Peter Weller (better known for his role as Robocop); however, that is probably an insult to cute little mechanized killing machines and doesn’t do her vocal skills justice. To say that this little girl is the polar opposite of M&M is an understatement (not that it is her fault). So, I will call her Little Miss Cobra instead (after the A.C. Cobra designed by the recently departed Carroll Shelby – ‘cause both go from zero to loud in nothing flat…and there might be other reasons too…like a shared name and the fact that she strikes quick…or not).

The kids arrived with a large bin full of clothing. Most of which turned out to belong to Little Miss Cobra. A second bin arrived a few days later after their first supervised visit with mom at CPS which had mostly Mini Me’s clothing in it.

We were told initially that momma had been on the run from CPS for three months, that dad was in jail and that CPS finally caught up to them at a hotel. We were also told that Little Miss Cobra was born positive for prescription medications and had had to go through eight weeks of Methadone treatment when she was a newborn. Most of that has turned out to be more or less true as far as we have been able to determine.

The Queen has met momma, dad/stepdad and grandma. The story that has unfolded is that Mini Me’s dad is in jail for reasons still unknown. Momma hooked up with dad/stepdad not long after Mini Me’s dad went into the pokie and has been the father figure for most of his short life thus far. As is the way of things, momma got pregnant 17 months or so ago. However, while she was pregnant, she was addicted to the pain killers she had been taking due to a back injury. I’m not clear on whether the back injury came before or after she got pregnant. That is what got her onto CPS’ radar in the first place.

CPS apparently allowed momma to take Little Miss Cobra home without a fuss. I assume due to the fact that the drugs were not recreational pharmaceuticals. All was apparently happy and joy for about five months until someone (grandma we think) called CPS on momma. The reason for CPS’ reinvolvement remain unclear as of this writing, but momma said she was scared for her kids going into foster care which is why she ran and tried to hide in hotels for three months. They finally tracked her down at a Budget Inn & Suites and took the kids.

The Queen reports that momma seems like a nice person (which, coming from The Queen, is a pretty good endorsement), is sincerely distraught about losing her kids and very much wants them back. The Queen counseled her to do exactly what CPS tells her to do, and she will get them back.

The kids appear to be in overall decent health. There are some obvious nutritional issues that had to be dealt with right away. I previously mentioned Mini Me’s request for a sippy cup of soda. The dentist took one look at his mouth and immediately referred him out to a pediatric orthodontist for major work to repair his severely eroded teeth. He is not looking forward to going under the knife so to speak. We have had to guide his food and drink choices (would you like apple juice or water?) instead of giving him free reign with the kids’ menu. Little Miss Cobra has some allergies which necessitate that she have a certain type of pre-mixed formula. She is eating baby foods and some solids (she has a thing for Cantalope we discovered last night).

Personality and behavior wise, Mini Me warmed up after a little bit. We had a little defiance the first night over bath time which is to be expected in a four year old. He found out the hard way that trying to hide in the closet while whining doesn’t impress us. He’s been caught red handed in an outright lie. The incident would have been cute were it not for the seriousness of the issue:

Me: [walking into the kitchen to throw something away only to discover the Candyland game box in the trash can] Honey, did you intend to throw away the Candyland box?

The Queen: No, why?

Me: Mini Me, come with me please. [we walk into the kitchen and I show him the trash can contents] Did you throw that away?

Mini Me: Uh uh.

Me: You mean “no, sir”. Are you sure you didn’t throw that away?

Mini Me: [nodding his head vigorously]

Me: I don’t think you are telling the truth. [The Queen] didn’t do it, and I wasn’t here to do it. That leaves you. Did you throw it away?

Mini Me: [nodding his head and turning away]

He got a very simple but firm explanation of just how important the truth is in our house and why that is important. So far, we’ve not had a repeat.

Aside from that and some ongoing training in politeness that is required for many children his age, Mini Me is a really good kid. He is extremely helpful with and loving towards his sister. He loves to play and laugh. I’ve enjoyed having a boy to torment (counting ribs is always a hoot). He misses his mom dearly, and he really does not like the CPS lady. She’s “mean”. I can see why he would think that. She did take him away from momma. He seems to grasp that The Queen and I are not the enemy which is helpful.

Little Miss Cobra, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. I’ve mentioned the SCREAMING. It really is piercing…it literally interferes with rational thought. She despises being on her back for any reason…which makes changing diapers a challenge. She and I fought tooth and nail for probably 30 or 45 minutes over a nasty, poopy diaper change on the first Saturday we had them (which, as you will recall, was when we still had no AC in the house). After the first fifteen minutes, I had to relocate us from the hot, stuffy bathroom where I had been trying to change her to the living room floor because a) there was no air circulating in the bathroom and it felt like a sauna, b) we were both hot and sweaty and I feared losing my grip on a slippery infant who is thrashing around while trying to roll over on the bathroom counter we use as our changing table and generally escape my grasp, c) did I mention how loud and piercing her SCREAMING can be?, d) especially in a hot, stuffy, 80 square foot bathroom with lots of reflective surfaces, and e) it seemed like a good idea at the time. This hatred of all things reclined extends to her car seat making trips in the car an absolute joy until we can get her to pass out.

Fortunately, all with Little Miss Cobra is not negative. She does like to be held (upright, not reclined). She is crawling and pulling up. She will walk with assistance for short distances meaning we will have a toddler on our hands sooner than we originally expected. She has what I think is an adorable habit when she gets tired. If you are holding her near night, night time (and she is not SCREAMING), she will fall asleep on your chest after head butting you several times in the chest to find the most comfortable spot. She will do the same thing in her crib if she is not already sound asleep when you put her in.

The Queen and I seem to be adjusting to the new circumstances fairly well. After our experience with M&M, we have held back a little emotionally with these two. We still care for them as we would for any child, but we are not allowing ourselves to become bonded in the same way we did with M&M. Part of that is due to the fact that the kids already have a strong bond with their momma and we don’t want to interfere with that. Part of it is for our own emotional protection. The Queen and I discussed the issue of adopting these two briefly amongst ourselves, and we both agree that we would if they became available. However, we’ve not mentioned it since, and we probably won’t even think about it again until after there is confirmation that momma’s rights will be terminated and there are no other viable family members (which is too early to tell right now).

At this point, we have no idea how long they will be with us. There was mention of an aunt who might take them; however, she has to get a job and an apartment before that can happen. As far as we are concerned right now, they are with us until they aren’t.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have some ribs to go count.

* A term for small children shamelessly stolen from conservative radio talk show host, Neil Boortz.

Kids Say The Darndest Things

I was in the checkout line at Walmart with my youngest nephew over the weekend. After perusing the latest tabloid offerings, he made the following insightful comment:

"I'm really impressed that Whitney Houston has been clean for a whole month now."

Now The Revisions Will Begin In Earnest

I am sure many of you saw the news article about the last known service member from World War I passing away earlier this week. To many, this is a quaint human interest story. A brief blip in the passage of time. The end of an era to others perhaps.

To a student of history, this event is something else entirely. It is a cause for alarm and even borders on being a tragedy. Why? Because an invaluable resource, a person with firsthand knowledge of the events who can give live testimony to what was witnessed, has been lost to the sands of time.

Some may try to say that live, first person accounts are less important in the modern age thanks to the wealth of information we have available to us in the form of records, letters, recordings, etc. The problem with that is that all history is revisionist. History is written by the winners and survivors. Rarely is history complete and unbiased. The biases and opinions of the historian inevitably color their reporting of the events. It taints their interpretation of those precious records that do survive after the death of those that created them. That doesn’t even take into account those historians who abandon any pretense of objectivity.

So, we have lost the last living witness to a major historical event that shaped much of what has transpired in our times today. Even if the last living witness were the most prolific writer and recorded every memory or thought she had regarding her experiences, those records can be lost, destroyed, suppressed or censored. Historians no longer have someone alive to challenge them and say, “You got it wrong.”

Very soon, much sooner than we care to consider, we will lose the last of The Greatest Generation. Already, we see people who adamantly deny that The Holocaust every happened. We have endless debates about Pearl Harbor. The ending of the war with atomic weapons has already been revised from a decision that saved the lives of millions to a horror for which America should be ashamed. If you have access to veterans of World War II or survivors of The Holocaust, I encourage you to spend time with them. Get their stories. Record them if you can. Do what you can to keep their stories alive.

I had the opportunity in college to hear a Holocaust survivor speak. His story was at the same time chilling and inspiring. It was a story of determination, resilience, ingenuity, defiance, endurance and so much more. He told us of how he learned to say he knew a certain skill even if he had never even if had had no experience in it at all because the Germans would take those with the skill, put them to work and gas the rest. He told us of how the prisoners working as slaves would surreptitiously sabotage aircraft or ammunition or whatever they were being forced to manufacture. The history of those events became real to me that day hearing him speak. No longer could they be denied. There was someone right in front of me who had lived through it. How do you convey that to a high school freshman who can’t be bothered to do the dishes or take out the trash because their eyes are glued to a smart phone or an iPad or some such?

"And if all others accepted the lie which the Party imposed—if all records told the same tale — then the lie passed into history and became truth. 'Who controls the past' ran the Party slogan, 'controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.'" — 1984 by George Orwell