Thursday, February 16, 2012

Houston, we have a problem!

What killed Whitney Houston has been the lead story on most “news” programs for the past four days. And now there just might be a criminal investigation. I don’t believe that you need to be a coroner, toxicologist, or crime scene investigator to understand the cause of death. Marriage to Bobby Brown, self-indulgence, fame, a failed reality show, and the effects of cocaine addiction would be the most obvious theories.  And just in case you are concerned about whether Bobby Brown will be attending the funeral or what the future is for Bobbi Kristina, your favorite news program promises to keep you updated. I guess it has been a slow week for actual news
I TIVOed 60 minutes on Sunday and got an hour of the Grammys instead. I was happy to see Adele take home several awards. After seeing so much blue hair, gimmicky performances, unnecessary cleavage, and bizarre outfits, I was happy to see that occasionally we still recognize actual talent.

I called last week to make an appointment for my yearly exam, and the receptionist told me that there were plenty of openings on the 14th. I guess most women felt that seeing their gynecologist on Valentine’s Day would ruin the romance of the day. I was just happy to get my choice of appointment times without waiting for weeks to be seen. After taking my weight and blood pressure, the young nurse asked about my cycle and what birth control I was using. “What makes you think that I don’t want to get pregnant?” was my response. Even after telling her it was a joke, she didn’t laugh.  Maybe my children are right and I am not funny, or quite possibly the world has lost its sense of humor.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Super Bizarre Sunday

As my son was watching the excessive festivities leading up to the big game on Sunday, he called me in the room to watch a trailer for the upcoming Hunger Games movie. I watched it and then returned to my reading. About an hour later when the game was about to begin, I entered the room to begin dinner preparations and noticed a message scrolling along the bottom of the television screen informing viewers of the Powell deaths. He said he had thought about it when I asked why he didn’t call me in to watch that report.

I am not sure if there is a lesson to be learned about my parenting skills, or if it is just a reflection on our society in general. It seems almost daily that there are news reports and updates of missing women and children, and so often the circumstances lead one to question whether or not a “loved” one might be responsible. Certainly Josh Powell’s actions were horrific, evil and incredibly cowardly, but not really surprising. Mark Hacking, OJ Simpson, and Casey Anthony have given us reason to believe that the most unthinkable acts take place daily by one who should give all to love, honor, and protect. I am saddened that my children are growing up in a society that has become increasingly less shocked by the heinous crimes of supposable loved ones.

On a lighter note, I wish I was shocked by the offensive and repulsive behavior of those in the entertainment industry, but unfortunately it has become the norm. I wonder if the “who was that singing with Madonna” half-time performer was worried that no one would be talking about her the next day if she relied solely on her talent to make an impression. I wish I could introduce her and Mrs. Tom Brady to a bar of soap!

Sunday, February 5, 2012

How tall will you be?

Faith is the daring of the soul to go farther than it can see.
William Newton Clarke

I just need to know when it is going to end is a common statement by one experiencing a trial of their faith. How long will a childless couple be expected to pray for a baby before they feel hope is lost?  An out of work father just needs to know where and when he will receive a break so that he will be able to feed his family again. The longing for companionship, the desire for the return of a wayward child, and the restored health of a loved one are common prayers uttered every day by good, kind people. No one is immune to heartache. And no one really gets to know how and when it will end

My son LOVES to play basketball. And that is a sport where height matters. He is fourteen years old, wears a size 13 shoe, and already noticeably taller than anyone in our family. When he is finally done with all the growing pains and middle of the night charley horses, he wonders how tall he might actually become. My husband recently found out about a procedure that involves x-raying the bones in the hand and determining through the expected growth of those bones how tall an individual will become. For a moment, he thought it might be fun to find out if our son could be of NBA stature.

What if he is done growing, or better yet, what if he will be 6 foot 8 inches tall? Would that knowledge alter his choices now? If he was to find out today that he has reached his maximum height, I believe that his hopes for the future would be significantly altered, and his desire and willingness to work hard toward his basketball goals would dissipate. He just might give up on his potential because he might be disappointed about his future. But, what if the opposite happened, and he was told he will grow an additional 8 inches. Many basketball players are simply content to be tall and never realize how truly great they could be because they rely more on their height than hard work.

If we knew how and when our trials would end, we would miss out on the personal growth achieved by working towards our desired goal because we might just simply endure until it is over. Praying with more fervency, relying on faith, and recognizing my strength and potential are blessings that would be missed if I simply waited for the current difficulty to pass. Each time I experience hardship, I have the opportunity to grow and stand a little taller. Some days I welcome new growth and experiences, and other days I think that I am tall enough.

Thursday, February 2, 2012


Loma Linda residents are in a battle with the Golden Arches. Apparently the highly health conscience citizens think that allowing a McDonald’s in their city will be a detriment to their overall well-being. Not sure if it was a coincidence, but I thought it a little funny that those interviewed on a recent Nightline who were in favor of the burger giant looked like they had been super-sized, while those opposed were slim and trim.

Don’t think that there was any significant battle for Herman Cain’s endorsement. But his giving the nod to Newt Gingrich didn’t seem a surprise to me. It seems that cheaters like to stick together.

The big Super Bowl Battle takes place this Sunday. I am not even confident I could name the competing teams, and therefore, it would seem that I wouldn’t care who wins. I am sure my son will be watching, and I will be cheering for one particular team. My method for determining is not scientific or sentimental, but probably slightly crazy, however, it gives me some satisfaction. On each team, I count the number of players sporting ridiculously long hair flowing from the back of their helmets, and the team with the least will get my support. I guess I am actually cheering for that silly fad to fade fast.