WEDNESDAY: Family Funnies
SUCCESSFUL NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS
Our cousin has a great formula for making New Year’s resolutions that she can really stick to. The rest of us fall away by mid-January with ours, but she prevails, year after year. What a success story of sheer will power and determination! Here are her resolutions for the coming new year:
1. Don’t eat monkey brains.
2. Don’t go sky-diving.
3. Do give yourself an “air kiss” every time you look in the mirror. It’s a great way to start every day on a positive note . . . and drives strangers in restrooms in airports, restaurants, arenas and stadiums absolutely crazy.
Hey . . . nobody said making and keeping resolutions to make your life a little better had to be so doggone serious!
Wednesday, December 31, 2003
Tuesday, December 30, 2003
TUESDAY: Hot Potatoes
SHOULD NONCITIZENS GET TO VOTE?
A University of California at Los Angeles law professor has issued a call to change the law to allow California's 4.6 million noncitizens to vote in local elections.
Joaquin C. Avila of UCLA’s Chicano Studies Research Center cited census data that found that noncitizen adults comprise large portions of California municipalities, such as 32 percent of Los Angeles. Since these legal and illegal aliens contribute to the economy and government revenues, but are denied political representation, Avila called the situation "political apartheid." He said to be fair, they should be allowed to vote.
On the other hand, some would say they should be arrested and deported, not given the right to vote. Citizenship is the cornerstone of the American system of government with responsibilities as well as rights, and it is controversial indeed to consider extending voting rights to illegal aliens, who deliberately have broken the law, or even to their legal immigrant counterparts, who are still, to be honest, aliens and not citizens. Letting illegal aliens vote would be the same as letting people vote who come to the polling both in the nude or rob everybody standing in line, and the poll workers, too.
To read Avila’s brief, see www.sscnet.ucla.edu/esp/csrc/policybriefs/PB09.pdf
For the other point of view on the intricacies of Americanizing immigrants – how it takes a lot more than moving here and getting a job to become an American — see the website of the respected think tank, the Center for Immigration Studies:
www.cis.org
SHOULD NONCITIZENS GET TO VOTE?
A University of California at Los Angeles law professor has issued a call to change the law to allow California's 4.6 million noncitizens to vote in local elections.
Joaquin C. Avila of UCLA’s Chicano Studies Research Center cited census data that found that noncitizen adults comprise large portions of California municipalities, such as 32 percent of Los Angeles. Since these legal and illegal aliens contribute to the economy and government revenues, but are denied political representation, Avila called the situation "political apartheid." He said to be fair, they should be allowed to vote.
On the other hand, some would say they should be arrested and deported, not given the right to vote. Citizenship is the cornerstone of the American system of government with responsibilities as well as rights, and it is controversial indeed to consider extending voting rights to illegal aliens, who deliberately have broken the law, or even to their legal immigrant counterparts, who are still, to be honest, aliens and not citizens. Letting illegal aliens vote would be the same as letting people vote who come to the polling both in the nude or rob everybody standing in line, and the poll workers, too.
To read Avila’s brief, see www.sscnet.ucla.edu/esp/csrc/policybriefs/PB09.pdf
For the other point of view on the intricacies of Americanizing immigrants – how it takes a lot more than moving here and getting a job to become an American — see the website of the respected think tank, the Center for Immigration Studies:
www.cis.org
Monday, December 29, 2003
MONDAY: Show 'n' Tell for Parents
MATH MESS: WHEN GPA AND TEST SCORES DON'T MATCH
Q. Why do so many middle-school and high-school students have “A” and “B” averages, but test like “D” or “F” students on standardized tests? The discrepancy is particularly apparent in math. Why is this happening? Can we fix it?
Yes, this can be fixed. What’s needed is a reality check to school administrators about late grade school and middle-school math instruction. It is substandard, and it shows. To try to cover this up, rampant grade inflation is deceiving parents and the public into thinking that all is well in math class. But it’s not.
School administrators mean well: they know algebra is a “gatekeeper” course for college-preparatory math and science. They want all students, especially disadvantaged ones, to have algebra under their belts. But the strongest predictor of failure to learn algebra is not race or income level – it’s a lack of adequate academic preparation. The curricula and instructional methods in use from grades 1-8 are poor, on a wide scale. That’s what needs to be fixed.
In an attempt to get more “nontraditional” students taking upper-level math in high school to make them eligible for math and science majors in college, many school districts haven’t done the obvious thing – beef up the quality of their preparatory math classes in the lower grades. Instead, they have watered down the content of pre-algebra courses, removing important but difficult material.
A common problem is that a district wants more students to pass math classes so that it “earns” more credit on the statewide accountability index. So the district will try to guarantee high pass rates by making the classes artificially easy. But classes without content set up students for later failure in algebra. Then many kids have to repeat algebra in ninth grade, and may never really “get” it.
Solution: place kids in algebra class based on how they do on standardized tests . . . not school-created tests, or GPAs.
Homework: Keep up with math instruction trends, especially California’s, on the website of the Hoover Institution, www.hoover.org
MATH MESS: WHEN GPA AND TEST SCORES DON'T MATCH
Q. Why do so many middle-school and high-school students have “A” and “B” averages, but test like “D” or “F” students on standardized tests? The discrepancy is particularly apparent in math. Why is this happening? Can we fix it?
Yes, this can be fixed. What’s needed is a reality check to school administrators about late grade school and middle-school math instruction. It is substandard, and it shows. To try to cover this up, rampant grade inflation is deceiving parents and the public into thinking that all is well in math class. But it’s not.
School administrators mean well: they know algebra is a “gatekeeper” course for college-preparatory math and science. They want all students, especially disadvantaged ones, to have algebra under their belts. But the strongest predictor of failure to learn algebra is not race or income level – it’s a lack of adequate academic preparation. The curricula and instructional methods in use from grades 1-8 are poor, on a wide scale. That’s what needs to be fixed.
In an attempt to get more “nontraditional” students taking upper-level math in high school to make them eligible for math and science majors in college, many school districts haven’t done the obvious thing – beef up the quality of their preparatory math classes in the lower grades. Instead, they have watered down the content of pre-algebra courses, removing important but difficult material.
A common problem is that a district wants more students to pass math classes so that it “earns” more credit on the statewide accountability index. So the district will try to guarantee high pass rates by making the classes artificially easy. But classes without content set up students for later failure in algebra. Then many kids have to repeat algebra in ninth grade, and may never really “get” it.
Solution: place kids in algebra class based on how they do on standardized tests . . . not school-created tests, or GPAs.
Homework: Keep up with math instruction trends, especially California’s, on the website of the Hoover Institution, www.hoover.org
Sunday, December 28, 2003
SUNDAY: Radiant Beams
DOWN, FIFI
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
-- Matthew 6:28.29
So there I was in the dressing room at Dillard's in a death grip with a black strapless bra named ''FiFi.''
Let me explain.
Underwear is my nemesis. I hate buying it. I hate being ''sized'' for it, and haven’t been since I was 13.
Consequently, I still wear underwear that I've had since I WAS 13.
The DNA is breaking down in the elastic. The fabric is so worn, it's cheesecloth.
These undies are all so tattered, I'm close to doing the scandalous thing teenagers today are doing: wearing no underwear at all. They call it ''GOING COMMANDO.'' Well, huh. Mine already looks like it's been through a war.
The bras are missing hooks. They have stretched-out straps. My husband forever destroyed the graceful mystique of breastfeeding by calling the flaps of my maternity bras ''bomb bay doors.''
The centerpiece is a nuclear-strength panty girdle at least 20 years old, purchased, I believe, at a Strategic Air Command garage sale. This lethal weapon is so tight I have to be hoisted by crane into a chair. If I'm standing up, I can only balance by leaning on a wall, and when I'm ready to move I stick my arm out for someone to pull me upright. When I pull it on, the underground command center near Omaha goes DEFCOM 4 because of the release of radioactive fusion molecules into the atmosphere.
Fortunately, my daughters are not so lingerie loony. When I take them shopping, though, the bras on display remind me of hundreds of poodle noses pointing north, east, south and west. I get the willies. Once, a bra displayed down low scraped my shin. I turned, glared, and commanded, ''Down, FiFi.''
Ever since, we've called bras ''FiFi’s.''
So, anyway, our daughter Neely was to be presented as an Omaha Symphony Debutante at an elegant gala Saturday night. I'd known for months that I would need a black strapless bra for my gown, but of course, had put off buying one.
So the day of the ball I raced to the mall, grabbed what I thought was about my size off the rack, and snuck into a dressing room. It was quickly apparent that the bra I had selected was my size, all right . . . four pregnancies and a few million Godivas ago. But I was in a hurry. So I tried to make it work.
Beads of sweat dotted my brow. I bent over backwards, grimacing. Both hands fumbled to connect hooks and eyes I couldn't see, two inches apart. My hands were greasy from a recent application of lotion, and my glasses were slipping down off my nose, when suddenly. . .
ZZZZZING!
. . . the bra shot out of my hands like twin cannonballs and smacked into the dressing room mirror. I heard a shocked gasp from next door.
I couldn't just do nothing. So I said what came to mind:
''DOWN, FiFi!''
There was an eerie silence. I think she bought it. I hope she hasn't needed a prescription since.
Well, I was so embarrassed, I just grabbed a bigger size, paid for it, and high-tailed it out of there.
That night, I flossed and yanked all the chin hair, but couldn't find my nuclear-strength panty girdle. I simply bragged that I had had waist augmentation surgery.
My beauty routine included bag balm -- that’s right, what farmers put on pig udders -- to try to tame my left eyebrow, which is trying to ''Go Andy Rooney.'' At least that’s better than ''Going Commando.''
But I should never have worried. Neely was the prettiest debutante, nobody even looked at the mothers anyway, my FiFi was the right size, and best of all, nobody knew what I went through just to get decent underwear for such a swank event.
'Til now.
But keep these unmentionables unmentionable, OK?
Or else I'll have to sick FiFi on you.
DOWN, FIFI
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; and yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.
-- Matthew 6:28.29
So there I was in the dressing room at Dillard's in a death grip with a black strapless bra named ''FiFi.''
Let me explain.
Underwear is my nemesis. I hate buying it. I hate being ''sized'' for it, and haven’t been since I was 13.
Consequently, I still wear underwear that I've had since I WAS 13.
The DNA is breaking down in the elastic. The fabric is so worn, it's cheesecloth.
These undies are all so tattered, I'm close to doing the scandalous thing teenagers today are doing: wearing no underwear at all. They call it ''GOING COMMANDO.'' Well, huh. Mine already looks like it's been through a war.
The bras are missing hooks. They have stretched-out straps. My husband forever destroyed the graceful mystique of breastfeeding by calling the flaps of my maternity bras ''bomb bay doors.''
The centerpiece is a nuclear-strength panty girdle at least 20 years old, purchased, I believe, at a Strategic Air Command garage sale. This lethal weapon is so tight I have to be hoisted by crane into a chair. If I'm standing up, I can only balance by leaning on a wall, and when I'm ready to move I stick my arm out for someone to pull me upright. When I pull it on, the underground command center near Omaha goes DEFCOM 4 because of the release of radioactive fusion molecules into the atmosphere.
Fortunately, my daughters are not so lingerie loony. When I take them shopping, though, the bras on display remind me of hundreds of poodle noses pointing north, east, south and west. I get the willies. Once, a bra displayed down low scraped my shin. I turned, glared, and commanded, ''Down, FiFi.''
Ever since, we've called bras ''FiFi’s.''
So, anyway, our daughter Neely was to be presented as an Omaha Symphony Debutante at an elegant gala Saturday night. I'd known for months that I would need a black strapless bra for my gown, but of course, had put off buying one.
So the day of the ball I raced to the mall, grabbed what I thought was about my size off the rack, and snuck into a dressing room. It was quickly apparent that the bra I had selected was my size, all right . . . four pregnancies and a few million Godivas ago. But I was in a hurry. So I tried to make it work.
Beads of sweat dotted my brow. I bent over backwards, grimacing. Both hands fumbled to connect hooks and eyes I couldn't see, two inches apart. My hands were greasy from a recent application of lotion, and my glasses were slipping down off my nose, when suddenly. . .
ZZZZZING!
. . . the bra shot out of my hands like twin cannonballs and smacked into the dressing room mirror. I heard a shocked gasp from next door.
I couldn't just do nothing. So I said what came to mind:
''DOWN, FiFi!''
There was an eerie silence. I think she bought it. I hope she hasn't needed a prescription since.
Well, I was so embarrassed, I just grabbed a bigger size, paid for it, and high-tailed it out of there.
That night, I flossed and yanked all the chin hair, but couldn't find my nuclear-strength panty girdle. I simply bragged that I had had waist augmentation surgery.
My beauty routine included bag balm -- that’s right, what farmers put on pig udders -- to try to tame my left eyebrow, which is trying to ''Go Andy Rooney.'' At least that’s better than ''Going Commando.''
But I should never have worried. Neely was the prettiest debutante, nobody even looked at the mothers anyway, my FiFi was the right size, and best of all, nobody knew what I went through just to get decent underwear for such a swank event.
'Til now.
But keep these unmentionables unmentionable, OK?
Or else I'll have to sick FiFi on you.
SATURDAY: FUNdamentals
RESOLVE TO DO MORE OFFBEAT SPORTS
Football, basketball, baseball, golf. Football, basketball, baseball, golf. Maybe some volleyball and soccer once in a while. But basically, for most Americans, it’s football, basketball, baseball and golf.
Bleah!
They’re great sports, but there’s oh! so much more. New Year's is just the time to explore the "more." So why don’t you resolve to get busy, make a list, do some research, watch the paper, ask around, look at bulletin boards at sporting goods stores, and get a regular group together for a once-a-month sports outing to some of the athletic endeavors that are a little off the beaten track.
Most of these should be going on in your area or within a reasonable drive. Here’s a sample schedule:
January – Curling
February – Hockey
March – Team roping
April – Wind surfing
May – Log-rolling
June – Pigeon racing
July – Sailboat racing
August – Miniature boat racing
September – Model airplane flying
October – Hunting dog field trials
November – Equestrian competition
December – Ice fishing
RESOLVE TO DO MORE OFFBEAT SPORTS
Football, basketball, baseball, golf. Football, basketball, baseball, golf. Maybe some volleyball and soccer once in a while. But basically, for most Americans, it’s football, basketball, baseball and golf.
Bleah!
They’re great sports, but there’s oh! so much more. New Year's is just the time to explore the "more." So why don’t you resolve to get busy, make a list, do some research, watch the paper, ask around, look at bulletin boards at sporting goods stores, and get a regular group together for a once-a-month sports outing to some of the athletic endeavors that are a little off the beaten track.
Most of these should be going on in your area or within a reasonable drive. Here’s a sample schedule:
January – Curling
February – Hockey
March – Team roping
April – Wind surfing
May – Log-rolling
June – Pigeon racing
July – Sailboat racing
August – Miniature boat racing
September – Model airplane flying
October – Hunting dog field trials
November – Equestrian competition
December – Ice fishing
Friday, December 26, 2003
FRIDAY: Vitamin Mom
THANK-YOU NOTES AS GOOD AS THE GIFTS
High on the post-Christmas priority list should be getting thank-you notes off in the mail. It is critically important that mothers teach their children to write thank-you notes for gifts received, special favors rendered, and sit-down dinners or lunches provided.
Within a week, holiday thank-you’s should be off in the mail. But for some kids, getting started is the hard part. It’s like pulling teeth. If your child has trouble putting pen to paper, here are some alternative ideas that should make the thank-you note as much fun to receive as the gift was to give:
-- Thank-You Picture. Give your child crayons or markers and have your child draw a picture of himself or herself using the gift.
-- Thank-You Story. Have your child write or type a funny story in which the gift serves as the solution to a mystery or develops magic powers.
-- Thank-You Crossword. Your child could write down several words that describe the gift, and then arrange them in a crossword puzzle. Make blank boxes for each letter, and write clues. Put the answers on the back.
THANK-YOU NOTES AS GOOD AS THE GIFTS
High on the post-Christmas priority list should be getting thank-you notes off in the mail. It is critically important that mothers teach their children to write thank-you notes for gifts received, special favors rendered, and sit-down dinners or lunches provided.
Within a week, holiday thank-you’s should be off in the mail. But for some kids, getting started is the hard part. It’s like pulling teeth. If your child has trouble putting pen to paper, here are some alternative ideas that should make the thank-you note as much fun to receive as the gift was to give:
-- Thank-You Picture. Give your child crayons or markers and have your child draw a picture of himself or herself using the gift.
-- Thank-You Story. Have your child write or type a funny story in which the gift serves as the solution to a mystery or develops magic powers.
-- Thank-You Crossword. Your child could write down several words that describe the gift, and then arrange them in a crossword puzzle. Make blank boxes for each letter, and write clues. Put the answers on the back.
Thursday, December 25, 2003
THURSDAY: Cre8iviT
CHRISTMAS CREATIVITY FOR A NEWCOMER
Most families have been touched by divorce, just one more reason all families have to practice acceptance and readjustment on a regular basis. At Christmastime, it can be very difficult for a second or third spouse to come into the family circle, knowing there are precious memories he or she knows nothing about, and various allegiances and traditions of the new family member has not been a part.
Rather than destroy what has been, build upon it. A lovely Christmas gift for a new spouse is a book of family memories and recipes. Buy a nice cookbook with detachable recipe cards that are in plastic protective sheets. Then email family members and ask for their favorite Christmas memories, traditions, gifts, experiences, even dinner menus. Also ask for the recipe or two or three for which they are “famous.”
They should email these back to you, and you can print them out to fit the recipe cards. Use double-sided tape and insert back into the protective plastic.
The new family member will be doubly appreciative of your thoughtfulness, for being let in on family lore and favorite foods is a double blessing.
CHRISTMAS CREATIVITY FOR A NEWCOMER
Most families have been touched by divorce, just one more reason all families have to practice acceptance and readjustment on a regular basis. At Christmastime, it can be very difficult for a second or third spouse to come into the family circle, knowing there are precious memories he or she knows nothing about, and various allegiances and traditions of the new family member has not been a part.
Rather than destroy what has been, build upon it. A lovely Christmas gift for a new spouse is a book of family memories and recipes. Buy a nice cookbook with detachable recipe cards that are in plastic protective sheets. Then email family members and ask for their favorite Christmas memories, traditions, gifts, experiences, even dinner menus. Also ask for the recipe or two or three for which they are “famous.”
They should email these back to you, and you can print them out to fit the recipe cards. Use double-sided tape and insert back into the protective plastic.
The new family member will be doubly appreciative of your thoughtfulness, for being let in on family lore and favorite foods is a double blessing.
Wednesday, December 24, 2003
WEDNESDAY: Family Funnies
THE FUNNIEST CHRISTMAS CARD
You enjoy the sweet, sentimental ones. You love the picture ones. You endure the long, chatty letter ones. But there’s nothing quite like Christmas cards that are funny.
This year’s winner is from a neighbor whose father just turned 90. Where did they take him to celebrate his birthday?
HOOTER’S!
There was a picture enclosed. You have never seen such a great, big grin on such an old, old guy.
That’s the Christmas spirit! Merry Christmas!
THE FUNNIEST CHRISTMAS CARD
You enjoy the sweet, sentimental ones. You love the picture ones. You endure the long, chatty letter ones. But there’s nothing quite like Christmas cards that are funny.
This year’s winner is from a neighbor whose father just turned 90. Where did they take him to celebrate his birthday?
HOOTER’S!
There was a picture enclosed. You have never seen such a great, big grin on such an old, old guy.
That’s the Christmas spirit! Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 23, 2003
TUESDAY: Hot Potatoes
CHRISTMAS: SHOULD WE STAND BACK AND LET THE GRINCH STEAL IT?
Today’s schoolchildren would be amazed at what they’re missing. Christmastime used to feature a whole season’s worth of bulletin boards, manger scenes, classroom giving trees, carols at Christmas programs, Christmas parties with traditional Christmas themes like candy canes and Christmas trees, and the exchange of gifts and cards between students and teachers.
But nowadays it’s not unusual for a classroom to be totally empty of any decorations, activities or references of any kind to Christmas. Field trips to see “A Christmas Carol” on stage have been canceled for alleged offense to certain members of the community. Kids have gotten hauled into court for handing out candy canes to their classmates because that is considered outrageously too religious. You can’t even say “Merry Christmas” in some schools – you have to substitute the tepid and impotent “Happy Holidays” instead.
Some schools have even stripped their Christmas programs of any references to Christmas – which would be funny, if it weren’t so sad – leaving music directors to struggle with the drivel of “winter songs” instead of the beautiful music of the ages that relates to Christmas, which generations of American children have enjoyed before.
Of course, we can’t have schools endorsing or promoting one religion over another. Nobody wants that. But what we do want is for our schools to have the freedom of expression and free speech guaranteed to each of us in the U.S. Constitution. And it’s crystal clear that observing Christmas in public schools is perfectly legal.
The whole thing has gotten pretty ridiculous, especially since the very first right guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution is the right of freedom of religion. That’s in the First Amendment. The Constitution in no way, shape or form requires school officials to censor Christmas or intimidate or silence those who would celebrate it. There’s no call for suppression of free speech in the doctrine of the separation of church and state. The vast majority of schools are violating their own students’ and teachers’ constitutional rights, and it’s sad to see.
For an excellent booklet of background information to share with school board members, principals and others who may not be aware of their own legal rights and those of their employees and students in this important area, see www.AllianceDefenseFund.org and download “Seasonal Religious Expression on Public Property.”
For more on the anti-Christmas side, see www.aclu.org
CHRISTMAS: SHOULD WE STAND BACK AND LET THE GRINCH STEAL IT?
Today’s schoolchildren would be amazed at what they’re missing. Christmastime used to feature a whole season’s worth of bulletin boards, manger scenes, classroom giving trees, carols at Christmas programs, Christmas parties with traditional Christmas themes like candy canes and Christmas trees, and the exchange of gifts and cards between students and teachers.
But nowadays it’s not unusual for a classroom to be totally empty of any decorations, activities or references of any kind to Christmas. Field trips to see “A Christmas Carol” on stage have been canceled for alleged offense to certain members of the community. Kids have gotten hauled into court for handing out candy canes to their classmates because that is considered outrageously too religious. You can’t even say “Merry Christmas” in some schools – you have to substitute the tepid and impotent “Happy Holidays” instead.
Some schools have even stripped their Christmas programs of any references to Christmas – which would be funny, if it weren’t so sad – leaving music directors to struggle with the drivel of “winter songs” instead of the beautiful music of the ages that relates to Christmas, which generations of American children have enjoyed before.
Of course, we can’t have schools endorsing or promoting one religion over another. Nobody wants that. But what we do want is for our schools to have the freedom of expression and free speech guaranteed to each of us in the U.S. Constitution. And it’s crystal clear that observing Christmas in public schools is perfectly legal.
The whole thing has gotten pretty ridiculous, especially since the very first right guaranteed in the U.S. Constitution is the right of freedom of religion. That’s in the First Amendment. The Constitution in no way, shape or form requires school officials to censor Christmas or intimidate or silence those who would celebrate it. There’s no call for suppression of free speech in the doctrine of the separation of church and state. The vast majority of schools are violating their own students’ and teachers’ constitutional rights, and it’s sad to see.
For an excellent booklet of background information to share with school board members, principals and others who may not be aware of their own legal rights and those of their employees and students in this important area, see www.AllianceDefenseFund.org and download “Seasonal Religious Expression on Public Property.”
For more on the anti-Christmas side, see www.aclu.org
Monday, December 22, 2003
MONDAY: Show 'n' Tell for Parents
Fostering Americanism
Q. What can moms and dads do to support our schools in helping make children proud to be American?
Educators have dropped the ball in many ways on civics education, American history instruction, and character-building for America’s future. Most states have Americanism education statutes that often are being ignored. They shouldn’t be. Parents can:
-- Photocopy your state’s Americanism statute regarding K-12 education; the statutes are available in the public library. Distribute copies to parents, teachers and school-board members showing what schools are supposed to be doing along these lines. Example: is Veterans Day observed?
-- Most school boards are supposed to have an Americanism committee, by law. Find out who the chairman is and contact that person, offering your service, ideas and support.
-- Give a beautiful 11� x 22� color Pledge of Allegiance poster to teachers and students; this is a possible PTA project and would be fine to post in classrooms, hallways and teachers’ lounges. Gateways to Better Education, P.O. Box 514, Lake Forest, CA 92609 or call (800) 929-1163.
-- In what shape is your school’s flag? The American flag is supposed to be crisp and free of tears and ragged edges. School budgets are tight and replacing a worn flag may not have top priority. Parents, the PTA, a Scout group or the local veterans association might collaborate on buying a new one and dedicating it with all students at attention.
-- Give your district flyers on Americanism essay contests that students can enter, and other opportunities to learn.
-- Invite government and military officials to give Career Day speeches to help promote public-service careers.
Homework: Get the book, “Making Patriots� by Walter Berns, or see “Community Support,� www.vfw.org
Fostering Americanism
Q. What can moms and dads do to support our schools in helping make children proud to be American?
Educators have dropped the ball in many ways on civics education, American history instruction, and character-building for America’s future. Most states have Americanism education statutes that often are being ignored. They shouldn’t be. Parents can:
-- Photocopy your state’s Americanism statute regarding K-12 education; the statutes are available in the public library. Distribute copies to parents, teachers and school-board members showing what schools are supposed to be doing along these lines. Example: is Veterans Day observed?
-- Most school boards are supposed to have an Americanism committee, by law. Find out who the chairman is and contact that person, offering your service, ideas and support.
-- Give a beautiful 11� x 22� color Pledge of Allegiance poster to teachers and students; this is a possible PTA project and would be fine to post in classrooms, hallways and teachers’ lounges. Gateways to Better Education, P.O. Box 514, Lake Forest, CA 92609 or call (800) 929-1163.
-- In what shape is your school’s flag? The American flag is supposed to be crisp and free of tears and ragged edges. School budgets are tight and replacing a worn flag may not have top priority. Parents, the PTA, a Scout group or the local veterans association might collaborate on buying a new one and dedicating it with all students at attention.
-- Give your district flyers on Americanism essay contests that students can enter, and other opportunities to learn.
-- Invite government and military officials to give Career Day speeches to help promote public-service careers.
Homework: Get the book, “Making Patriots� by Walter Berns, or see “Community Support,� www.vfw.org
Sunday, December 21, 2003
SUNDAY: Radiant Beams
A FATHER'S EXTRAVAGANCE
Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.
-- Ephesians 3:20
One Christmas Dad gave Mom a shiny, new garbage can.
It went over like a lead balloon. I mean, we all knew the old one was banged up and disreputable. But this was Christmas.
''See if the lid works,'' Dad suggested.
She did, getting ready to El Kabong him with it. But she didn't. Because . . .
. . . INSIDE WAS A FULL-LENGTH MINK COAT!!!
Now, THAT was CHRISTMAS!!!
I remember reveling in the extravagance. Mom looked so happy. It was beyond her wildest dreams. Dad went from the doghouse to the pinnacle, and we kids were all elated.
You just get so filled with joy when a father goes all out to show his love.
That's why I'm not surprised about what’s been happening lately to a friend of mine who has just been through a rough time. She's Nebraska's leading lady of Christian activism, head of Nebraska Right to Life, and a wonderful wife and mother, Julie Schmit-Albin of Lincoln.
Bottom line: about this time last year, she did the right thing and got hammered for it.
It goes like this: she had been receiving emails from a disgruntled Planned Parenthood clinic manager that contended there were health violations going on inside the clinic. She turned them over to the State of Nebraska, and the allegations proved true. The clinic was put on probation.
But because the man who leaked the information wasn't supposed to have access to the internal emails, both of them got in big trouble. They were charged with felonies.
Her computer was confiscated. She was fingerprinted and mugshotted. Her name was on CNN. Her kids and their classmates saw her all over the local media. She faced a possible five years in prison and a $10,000 fine.
She didn't know he was doing anything wrong by sending those emails. All she wanted to do was to protect women's health. It was all so badly misinterpreted. She felt like people were wiping the floor with her heart. It really was the pits.
Ultimately, though, it worked out OK. She did 60 hours of community service making blankets for Project Linus in a pretrial diversion program, a route she chose to bring peace to her family life.
Look what has happened to her since:
-- She won not one, not two, but three door prizes at the National Right to Life convention in St. Louis in July.
-- Upon her return home, she learned she won the only free makeover in a drawing at her hair salon: a perm, pedicure, manicure, the works.
-- She bought the winning raffle ticket at her church festival in October. Grand prize: $2,000.
-- She won $50 at an antiques store drawing in Lincoln's Haymarket.
-- The White House called to invite her personally to the Nov. 5 ceremony when the President signed the ban on partial-birth abortion, an important slice of history in the ongoing battle over the sanctity of life, her life's calling.
-- And last but not least, hers was the winning entry out of hundreds of thousands in a national Sun-Mart drawing sponsored by Nash-Finch Co./Coca-Cola. She won free airline tickets for four to New Orleans, complete with French Quarter hotel accommodations for three nights, tickets to the Sugar Bowl, and $500 cash.
Julie says she has never won anything in her life until these last few months. These prizes have blessed her beyond her wildest dreams. She feels enveloped in love and reassurance.
That's what it’s like to be a Christian: you stay faithful to the Lord, and you hang in there. You can feel the power of that love and you know that, eventually, you are going to be blessed.
Outrageously, audaciously, extravagantly so.
Because that's God’s nature. That's the whole idea of Christmas. It was just so extravagant. The gift of the Christ child is like a surprise mink coat: outrageously, audaciously wrapping us all in the unexpected grace of the manger and the cross, and the incomparable love and glory of Jesus Christ.
So maybe you won't get a mink coat, a $2,000 raffle prize or a trip for four to the Sugar Bowl this Christmas.
But if you've got Jesus, you've got it all.
There's no gift more extravagant. Isn't it wonderful?
You just get so filled with joy when a Father goes all out to show His love. Amen, and Merry Christmas!
A FATHER'S EXTRAVAGANCE
Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.
-- Ephesians 3:20
One Christmas Dad gave Mom a shiny, new garbage can.
It went over like a lead balloon. I mean, we all knew the old one was banged up and disreputable. But this was Christmas.
''See if the lid works,'' Dad suggested.
She did, getting ready to El Kabong him with it. But she didn't. Because . . .
. . . INSIDE WAS A FULL-LENGTH MINK COAT!!!
Now, THAT was CHRISTMAS!!!
I remember reveling in the extravagance. Mom looked so happy. It was beyond her wildest dreams. Dad went from the doghouse to the pinnacle, and we kids were all elated.
You just get so filled with joy when a father goes all out to show his love.
That's why I'm not surprised about what’s been happening lately to a friend of mine who has just been through a rough time. She's Nebraska's leading lady of Christian activism, head of Nebraska Right to Life, and a wonderful wife and mother, Julie Schmit-Albin of Lincoln.
Bottom line: about this time last year, she did the right thing and got hammered for it.
It goes like this: she had been receiving emails from a disgruntled Planned Parenthood clinic manager that contended there were health violations going on inside the clinic. She turned them over to the State of Nebraska, and the allegations proved true. The clinic was put on probation.
But because the man who leaked the information wasn't supposed to have access to the internal emails, both of them got in big trouble. They were charged with felonies.
Her computer was confiscated. She was fingerprinted and mugshotted. Her name was on CNN. Her kids and their classmates saw her all over the local media. She faced a possible five years in prison and a $10,000 fine.
She didn't know he was doing anything wrong by sending those emails. All she wanted to do was to protect women's health. It was all so badly misinterpreted. She felt like people were wiping the floor with her heart. It really was the pits.
Ultimately, though, it worked out OK. She did 60 hours of community service making blankets for Project Linus in a pretrial diversion program, a route she chose to bring peace to her family life.
Look what has happened to her since:
-- She won not one, not two, but three door prizes at the National Right to Life convention in St. Louis in July.
-- Upon her return home, she learned she won the only free makeover in a drawing at her hair salon: a perm, pedicure, manicure, the works.
-- She bought the winning raffle ticket at her church festival in October. Grand prize: $2,000.
-- She won $50 at an antiques store drawing in Lincoln's Haymarket.
-- The White House called to invite her personally to the Nov. 5 ceremony when the President signed the ban on partial-birth abortion, an important slice of history in the ongoing battle over the sanctity of life, her life's calling.
-- And last but not least, hers was the winning entry out of hundreds of thousands in a national Sun-Mart drawing sponsored by Nash-Finch Co./Coca-Cola. She won free airline tickets for four to New Orleans, complete with French Quarter hotel accommodations for three nights, tickets to the Sugar Bowl, and $500 cash.
Julie says she has never won anything in her life until these last few months. These prizes have blessed her beyond her wildest dreams. She feels enveloped in love and reassurance.
That's what it’s like to be a Christian: you stay faithful to the Lord, and you hang in there. You can feel the power of that love and you know that, eventually, you are going to be blessed.
Outrageously, audaciously, extravagantly so.
Because that's God’s nature. That's the whole idea of Christmas. It was just so extravagant. The gift of the Christ child is like a surprise mink coat: outrageously, audaciously wrapping us all in the unexpected grace of the manger and the cross, and the incomparable love and glory of Jesus Christ.
So maybe you won't get a mink coat, a $2,000 raffle prize or a trip for four to the Sugar Bowl this Christmas.
But if you've got Jesus, you've got it all.
There's no gift more extravagant. Isn't it wonderful?
You just get so filled with joy when a Father goes all out to show His love. Amen, and Merry Christmas!
Saturday, December 20, 2003
SATURDAY: FUNdamentals
CAROLING WITH A TWIST
A fun party right before Christmas is a combination of caroling and a road rally. Your office work group, civic club, golf buddies, Sunday School class, or any other gathering of adults should make a list of about five people you want to cheer up with a caroling excursion.
Who to carol to? It’s always a good idea to ask for the names of shut-ins from your church, or visit people from your workplace who have been sick, maybe some newlyweds, perhaps a retirement home, your child’s coach, your boss, or people you just plain like.
Call the people you’d like to carol and make sure they will be home that evening and are expecting you. Make your invitations, by phone or by mail. Now map out your itinerary based on where the “carolees� live.
Start the party at about 7 at your house, set up “carpools,� distribute maps and flashlights or candles with a safety “skirt� to protect against drips, and pile into cars. Gentlepersons, start your engines! Now drive from place to place, pile out and carol, and pile back in, feeling happy about brightening someone’s evening.
If anybody plays guitar and can bring it, that’d be great. You could photocopy words to 10 or 12 hymns and distribute them as well. Make the type size big enough to see in the dark! Keep each song to just one or two verses if you can. Short, but sweet, is the name of the game with caroling.
But here comes the funny part: bring the loudest battery-operated boom box you can with a recording of a huge choir doing a voices-only, or “a cappella,� Christmas song. As the cars arrive at each “carolee’s� house, turn on that song full blast. They’ll think there’s a choir of 500 people out on their front porch! Even if you only have four or five carolers, lip-sync the words as they open the door. You’ll all get a big laugh!
Then turn off the boom box, and share the real thing – your voices lifted in the best songs of all time, celebrating the best thing that ever happened – and best of all, you get to go back to the host’s house after everyone has been visited, for refreshments and more singing, if you wish.
CAROLING WITH A TWIST
A fun party right before Christmas is a combination of caroling and a road rally. Your office work group, civic club, golf buddies, Sunday School class, or any other gathering of adults should make a list of about five people you want to cheer up with a caroling excursion.
Who to carol to? It’s always a good idea to ask for the names of shut-ins from your church, or visit people from your workplace who have been sick, maybe some newlyweds, perhaps a retirement home, your child’s coach, your boss, or people you just plain like.
Call the people you’d like to carol and make sure they will be home that evening and are expecting you. Make your invitations, by phone or by mail. Now map out your itinerary based on where the “carolees� live.
Start the party at about 7 at your house, set up “carpools,� distribute maps and flashlights or candles with a safety “skirt� to protect against drips, and pile into cars. Gentlepersons, start your engines! Now drive from place to place, pile out and carol, and pile back in, feeling happy about brightening someone’s evening.
If anybody plays guitar and can bring it, that’d be great. You could photocopy words to 10 or 12 hymns and distribute them as well. Make the type size big enough to see in the dark! Keep each song to just one or two verses if you can. Short, but sweet, is the name of the game with caroling.
But here comes the funny part: bring the loudest battery-operated boom box you can with a recording of a huge choir doing a voices-only, or “a cappella,� Christmas song. As the cars arrive at each “carolee’s� house, turn on that song full blast. They’ll think there’s a choir of 500 people out on their front porch! Even if you only have four or five carolers, lip-sync the words as they open the door. You’ll all get a big laugh!
Then turn off the boom box, and share the real thing – your voices lifted in the best songs of all time, celebrating the best thing that ever happened – and best of all, you get to go back to the host’s house after everyone has been visited, for refreshments and more singing, if you wish.
Friday, December 19, 2003
FRIDAY: Vitamin Mom
WHIMSY AT CHRISTMAS
One of the sweetest things about Christmas is that it's perfectly OK for adults to show a little childish humor and whimsy. This is high humor for kids, and a great message to give them: the fun doesn't stop when the grown-up years begin.
Here are three ideas for Christmas whimsy that will create adorable memories for your child on down the road:
1. Santa Rings the Doorbell
Most kids have a best friend. Purchase in advance a small gift for that friend. Make it something that your child would enjoy, too, and get two of them. Put them in tissue and put the tissue in Christmas sacks, marked ''To ___ From Santa.'' Now invite the best friend over, a few days before Christmas. While the kids aren't looking, sneak the two sacks to the front doormat. Prearrange with an older child in the family or a friend to ring the doorbell and then run and hide. When the kids come to the door and see the presents addressed to them – EARLY! – they'll scream with joy.
2. Manger Scene Playability
Having a manger scene to play with is a great way to familiarize your child with the Christmas story, the reason for the season. Many families have an heirloom nativity set that’s a ''don't touch'' item, but it's smart to buy an inexpensive second set, perhaps in the after-Christmas sales, made of wood block or other sturdy play-worthy material, so that your child can have a ''hands-on'' experience with the story of Christ's birth. Remember, children learn through play!
3. Enlist an Accomplice for Christmas Eve Drama
Here's a fun job for a fun uncle, family friend or someone else who perhaps doesn't have children at home but loves the joys of childhood and the amusing mysteries that, we find out later, never would have happened without a grownup who liked to play as much as kids do. Whether or not you invite this person to your Christmas Eve festivities, arrange in advance for him or her to have some jingle bells in the car. Right when the kids are going to bed, the person can walk or drive outside the children's bedroom windows and shake the bells just enough to be heard. Just a taste of excitement to REALLY make it impossible for them to fall asleep!
WHIMSY AT CHRISTMAS
One of the sweetest things about Christmas is that it's perfectly OK for adults to show a little childish humor and whimsy. This is high humor for kids, and a great message to give them: the fun doesn't stop when the grown-up years begin.
Here are three ideas for Christmas whimsy that will create adorable memories for your child on down the road:
1. Santa Rings the Doorbell
Most kids have a best friend. Purchase in advance a small gift for that friend. Make it something that your child would enjoy, too, and get two of them. Put them in tissue and put the tissue in Christmas sacks, marked ''To ___ From Santa.'' Now invite the best friend over, a few days before Christmas. While the kids aren't looking, sneak the two sacks to the front doormat. Prearrange with an older child in the family or a friend to ring the doorbell and then run and hide. When the kids come to the door and see the presents addressed to them – EARLY! – they'll scream with joy.
2. Manger Scene Playability
Having a manger scene to play with is a great way to familiarize your child with the Christmas story, the reason for the season. Many families have an heirloom nativity set that’s a ''don't touch'' item, but it's smart to buy an inexpensive second set, perhaps in the after-Christmas sales, made of wood block or other sturdy play-worthy material, so that your child can have a ''hands-on'' experience with the story of Christ's birth. Remember, children learn through play!
3. Enlist an Accomplice for Christmas Eve Drama
Here's a fun job for a fun uncle, family friend or someone else who perhaps doesn't have children at home but loves the joys of childhood and the amusing mysteries that, we find out later, never would have happened without a grownup who liked to play as much as kids do. Whether or not you invite this person to your Christmas Eve festivities, arrange in advance for him or her to have some jingle bells in the car. Right when the kids are going to bed, the person can walk or drive outside the children's bedroom windows and shake the bells just enough to be heard. Just a taste of excitement to REALLY make it impossible for them to fall asleep!
Thursday, December 18, 2003
THURSDAY: Cre8iviT
POWER BOX
When someone you know is diagnosed with an illness like cancer, it’s time to roll out the power of friendship. You can make a “power box� to be filled with the encouragement and support of friends throughout the battle. Especially when it’s something like cancer, with the processes involved in chemotherapy and radiation, and the many ups and downs of the ordeal, the constancy of having something tangible on hand to help the person stay focused is a big help.
Buy or make a really nice recipe box that holds 4� x 6� cards. But instead of traditional recipe cards, go to a stationery store and buy a pound and a half or more of colored cardstock. You’ll want a rainbow of colors.
Each card is to become an item of “power� in the form of an encouraging message, picture, drawing, quote, artwork, clipping, joke, Internet printout, recipe, suggestion, anecdote, Bible verse, prayer or whatever else it might contain.
Make up one example to show others, and then distribute these cards among the person’s friends. Give the person a quantity of them, too, to add cards that come in the mail, personal observations, mementoes of special gifts or phone conversations, and the like.
Sample idea: cut out a picture of Saddam Hussein at his capture, paste it on the card, and write, “Things COULD be worse – you could see this in your Monday morning mirror, or see this across your breakfast table.� Then write the promise of Micah 7:7, that things are never as bad as they look: “Therefore I will look unto the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.�
POWER BOX
When someone you know is diagnosed with an illness like cancer, it’s time to roll out the power of friendship. You can make a “power box� to be filled with the encouragement and support of friends throughout the battle. Especially when it’s something like cancer, with the processes involved in chemotherapy and radiation, and the many ups and downs of the ordeal, the constancy of having something tangible on hand to help the person stay focused is a big help.
Buy or make a really nice recipe box that holds 4� x 6� cards. But instead of traditional recipe cards, go to a stationery store and buy a pound and a half or more of colored cardstock. You’ll want a rainbow of colors.
Each card is to become an item of “power� in the form of an encouraging message, picture, drawing, quote, artwork, clipping, joke, Internet printout, recipe, suggestion, anecdote, Bible verse, prayer or whatever else it might contain.
Make up one example to show others, and then distribute these cards among the person’s friends. Give the person a quantity of them, too, to add cards that come in the mail, personal observations, mementoes of special gifts or phone conversations, and the like.
Sample idea: cut out a picture of Saddam Hussein at his capture, paste it on the card, and write, “Things COULD be worse – you could see this in your Monday morning mirror, or see this across your breakfast table.� Then write the promise of Micah 7:7, that things are never as bad as they look: “Therefore I will look unto the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.�
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
WEDNESDAY: Family Funnies
WE GOT HIM!
People may underestimate the importance of University of Nebraska football on the culture in the Cornhusker state. It has been in turmoil over some coaching changes recently.
On the Sunday morning when news was spreading of the capture of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, people were calling each other and greeting each other at church, saying something like, “WE GOT HIM!”
But in Nebraska, people thought that meant the Huskers had hired a new football coach.
WE GOT HIM!
People may underestimate the importance of University of Nebraska football on the culture in the Cornhusker state. It has been in turmoil over some coaching changes recently.
On the Sunday morning when news was spreading of the capture of Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein, people were calling each other and greeting each other at church, saying something like, “WE GOT HIM!”
But in Nebraska, people thought that meant the Huskers had hired a new football coach.
Tuesday, December 16, 2003
TUESDAY: Hot Potatoes
CRIMINAL JUSTICE: A SWORDSMAN FOR JUSTICE
Douglas County District Judge Greg Schatz is in a hotseat right now for setting a prison sentence some say was too light. The Omaha judge gave a defendant 10 to 15 years in prison when the max was 175 years.
The defendant had been convicted of the rape, robbery, assault and false imprisonment of a mentally-challenged woman. He faces another trial for an alleged jailhouse murder contract on her life and another long prison term if convicted. Because of publicity in the case, Schatz recused himself Monday from that second trial.
The thing is, Schatz is being criticized by Fox TV superstar Bill O’Reilly, Nebraska Attorney General Jon Bruning, and many others for being ''soft on crime.''
But none of them were at the trial to see how strong the case was, or wasn't. None were at the sentencing. There were no sentencing recommendations from the state.
Nobody but the judge read the pile of documents about the defendant's history; he is reportedly mentally-challenged, too. The critics don't know why there wasn't a plea bargain, how likely this defendant is to be rehabilitated, or how heavy a threat he posed to public safety in the future.
Neither the victim nor her family were at the sentencing, either, although they had been notified. There was no victim impact statement.
Now, look. We've invested in our judges to judge, and 99.9 percent of the time, we're silent when they do.
But all of a sudden, these ''critics'' are out there loudly saying Schatz was too soft.
He's not. He has a good court record. He's a good judge. A just one.
Years ago, when I was a cub reporter and Schatz was a wet-behind-the-ears prosecutor, he made one of the most brilliant legal maneuvers I have ever seen. It nailed a high-profile murderer who might otherwise have gotten off. So it's funny that now Schatz, with 25 years of Courthouse experience, is being criticized as soft on crime.
No, he isn't. I saw him use the truth, like a sword, to prove a crime and win justice.
That day, I saw the photos from the crime scene and nearly threw up. The victim's throat was slit as with a machete. There was blood everywhere.
The young man was accused of killing an older man. The situation was inflammatory. The young man's defense was that he was out of money, the older man picked him up off the street, and took him to his apartment to feed him. Suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, the young man said, the older one foisted himself on him, demanding homosexual sex. The young man ''lost it'' and killed him in self-defense.
The prosecution said the killing was deliberate during the course of a robbery.
The defendant brought in a high-powered, older lawyer from another state. He was very good. I sensed that the jury was siding with the defendant. Schatz was going to have egg on his face, bigtime.
Well, he gave his closing, and the slick out-of-town lawyer rebutted with skill and style. But Schatz was allowed to rebut the rebuttal.
That's when he did his swordfighting.
In a dramatic reenactment, he showed the jury that the young man had to have been sitting down when the victim's throat was slit so violently because of the angle of the cut. I remember Schatz wildly swinging that imaginary knife through the air, showing how it must have been. It was riveting.
That meant the defendant had to have had the big knife concealed. In turn, that meant he had the killing planned.
And, most damaging of all, the young man had to have been naked . . . because there was no blood on his clothes.
Nobody had realized this . . . except Greg Schatz. He'd saved it for rebuttal, just in case.
Everyone in that courtroom sat stunned. I swear you could hear the sound of a sword being triumphantly jammed back into a scabbard.
When the jury went out, a Courthouse old-timer and I exchanged glances. '''Textbook move,'' I said.
''They don’t teach that move in textbooks,'' he replied, respectfully.
The jury came back in five minutes. Guilty.
That's the kind of a person I want for a judge. Not a softie: someone who thinks. One who sees things the rest of us don't. One with the courage to act, no matter how it might look from the cheap seats.
One who takes our laws, and with transcendent wisdom, diligence and a bit of dashing derring-do . . . creates justice.
CRIMINAL JUSTICE: A SWORDSMAN FOR JUSTICE
Douglas County District Judge Greg Schatz is in a hotseat right now for setting a prison sentence some say was too light. The Omaha judge gave a defendant 10 to 15 years in prison when the max was 175 years.
The defendant had been convicted of the rape, robbery, assault and false imprisonment of a mentally-challenged woman. He faces another trial for an alleged jailhouse murder contract on her life and another long prison term if convicted. Because of publicity in the case, Schatz recused himself Monday from that second trial.
The thing is, Schatz is being criticized by Fox TV superstar Bill O’Reilly, Nebraska Attorney General Jon Bruning, and many others for being ''soft on crime.''
But none of them were at the trial to see how strong the case was, or wasn't. None were at the sentencing. There were no sentencing recommendations from the state.
Nobody but the judge read the pile of documents about the defendant's history; he is reportedly mentally-challenged, too. The critics don't know why there wasn't a plea bargain, how likely this defendant is to be rehabilitated, or how heavy a threat he posed to public safety in the future.
Neither the victim nor her family were at the sentencing, either, although they had been notified. There was no victim impact statement.
Now, look. We've invested in our judges to judge, and 99.9 percent of the time, we're silent when they do.
But all of a sudden, these ''critics'' are out there loudly saying Schatz was too soft.
He's not. He has a good court record. He's a good judge. A just one.
Years ago, when I was a cub reporter and Schatz was a wet-behind-the-ears prosecutor, he made one of the most brilliant legal maneuvers I have ever seen. It nailed a high-profile murderer who might otherwise have gotten off. So it's funny that now Schatz, with 25 years of Courthouse experience, is being criticized as soft on crime.
No, he isn't. I saw him use the truth, like a sword, to prove a crime and win justice.
That day, I saw the photos from the crime scene and nearly threw up. The victim's throat was slit as with a machete. There was blood everywhere.
The young man was accused of killing an older man. The situation was inflammatory. The young man's defense was that he was out of money, the older man picked him up off the street, and took him to his apartment to feed him. Suddenly, out of the clear blue sky, the young man said, the older one foisted himself on him, demanding homosexual sex. The young man ''lost it'' and killed him in self-defense.
The prosecution said the killing was deliberate during the course of a robbery.
The defendant brought in a high-powered, older lawyer from another state. He was very good. I sensed that the jury was siding with the defendant. Schatz was going to have egg on his face, bigtime.
Well, he gave his closing, and the slick out-of-town lawyer rebutted with skill and style. But Schatz was allowed to rebut the rebuttal.
That's when he did his swordfighting.
In a dramatic reenactment, he showed the jury that the young man had to have been sitting down when the victim's throat was slit so violently because of the angle of the cut. I remember Schatz wildly swinging that imaginary knife through the air, showing how it must have been. It was riveting.
That meant the defendant had to have had the big knife concealed. In turn, that meant he had the killing planned.
And, most damaging of all, the young man had to have been naked . . . because there was no blood on his clothes.
Nobody had realized this . . . except Greg Schatz. He'd saved it for rebuttal, just in case.
Everyone in that courtroom sat stunned. I swear you could hear the sound of a sword being triumphantly jammed back into a scabbard.
When the jury went out, a Courthouse old-timer and I exchanged glances. '''Textbook move,'' I said.
''They don’t teach that move in textbooks,'' he replied, respectfully.
The jury came back in five minutes. Guilty.
That's the kind of a person I want for a judge. Not a softie: someone who thinks. One who sees things the rest of us don't. One with the courage to act, no matter how it might look from the cheap seats.
One who takes our laws, and with transcendent wisdom, diligence and a bit of dashing derring-do . . . creates justice.
Monday, December 15, 2003
MONDAY: Show 'n' Tell for Parents
CENSORSHIP VS. GOOD SENSE
Q. There are some graphic sex scenes in our sixth-grader’s assigned book for English class. When we complained to the teacher, we were labeled “censors.” That hurt!
Go back to that teacher, and gently point out the difference between “censorship” – which only government has the power to do – and “prudent book selection” – which school officials are supposed to do. There are thousands of good books for kids without graphic sex. Come on, now. Stand your ground. You are right and they are wrong.
Simply stating your concerns and belief that that book is outrageously inappropriate for minor children in the captive setting of a public school is by no means “censorship.” It’s just common sense, and the proper exercise of parental duty.
Ever since moral relativism invaded public education, younger educators have misunderstood the importance of judgment. Just because racial discrimination and sex discrimination are bad, they have concluded that any form of discrimination – judging – critical perception – must be bad. But of course, good judgment is good.
The confusion stems from a U.S. Supreme Court case involving the Island Trees district in Levittown, N.Y., in which it was established that school boards cannot order books removed from school library shelves even if the content is anti-American, anti-Christian, anti-Semitic or just plain filthy. Why not? Because that would constitute censorship: the school board would be in the position of deciding what is “orthodox” and what ideas are good for kids.
But that’s a misinterpretation. Again: good judgment is good.
Ironically, what’s really being censored in our public schools today are classic works of literature. These books are off most reading lists because students today lack the vocabularies, reading comprehension and analytical ability to handle classic books that previous generations enjoyed. That’s the story that should be told.
Homework: A great gift for teachers or school libraries: “Invitation to the Classics,” edited by Louise Cowan and Os Guinness.
CENSORSHIP VS. GOOD SENSE
Q. There are some graphic sex scenes in our sixth-grader’s assigned book for English class. When we complained to the teacher, we were labeled “censors.” That hurt!
Go back to that teacher, and gently point out the difference between “censorship” – which only government has the power to do – and “prudent book selection” – which school officials are supposed to do. There are thousands of good books for kids without graphic sex. Come on, now. Stand your ground. You are right and they are wrong.
Simply stating your concerns and belief that that book is outrageously inappropriate for minor children in the captive setting of a public school is by no means “censorship.” It’s just common sense, and the proper exercise of parental duty.
Ever since moral relativism invaded public education, younger educators have misunderstood the importance of judgment. Just because racial discrimination and sex discrimination are bad, they have concluded that any form of discrimination – judging – critical perception – must be bad. But of course, good judgment is good.
The confusion stems from a U.S. Supreme Court case involving the Island Trees district in Levittown, N.Y., in which it was established that school boards cannot order books removed from school library shelves even if the content is anti-American, anti-Christian, anti-Semitic or just plain filthy. Why not? Because that would constitute censorship: the school board would be in the position of deciding what is “orthodox” and what ideas are good for kids.
But that’s a misinterpretation. Again: good judgment is good.
Ironically, what’s really being censored in our public schools today are classic works of literature. These books are off most reading lists because students today lack the vocabularies, reading comprehension and analytical ability to handle classic books that previous generations enjoyed. That’s the story that should be told.
Homework: A great gift for teachers or school libraries: “Invitation to the Classics,” edited by Louise Cowan and Os Guinness.
Sunday, December 14, 2003
SUNDAY: Radiant Beams
BRUCE THE MAGNIFICENT
(H)e hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
-- Isaiah 53:2b
We gave our daughter Eden her dream car for her 16th birthday, a red 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse. I know: we are deranged, she is spoiled, we should have spent that money on the starving masses. . . .
But we listened to her two older sisters. They pointed to the endless hand-me-downs ''Beamer'' has endured. Not fair.
Besides, they said, it'll get her where she wants to go, so we won't have to. Bingo!
She has already ''Beamerized'' it with a dashboard hula dancer and ''Bowling Bob'' from her discriminating friends, plus a dolphin dangling from the rear-view mirror, a flowered steering-wheel cover, and a CD container for 5,000 essential tunes. Then there's this felt doll named ''Elliott'' clinging to the ceiling. . . .
So much for sophistication.
But then everybody thought back to THEIR first car. Nobody ELSE had any sophistication, either.
Mine was “Whitby,” a nerdy gold '65 Chevrolet Impala. My husband's was a '64 Pontiac Star Chief, a barge on wheels.
My neighbor topped us all with ''Bruce the Magnificent,'' an enormous green Buick with a terminally peeling vinyl roof.
It had four doors in three colors. After a hit-and-run sideswipe, she had gone to the junkyard for a front quarter, and two doors, all from different model years, and all of which she installed herself.
Yes, ''Bruce'' was no “Car and Driver” cover boy. But he could hold 15 friends. Therefore, everyone loved him.
He only got four blocks to the gallon. But gas was 28 cents. It worked.
Since the radio didn't -- work, that is -- she duct-taped an AM radio to the dashboard. Voila!
The dome light didn’t work, either. So she had a big flashlight that would sit in the front seat. Whenever someone needed light, they'd turn it on, and everyone would yell ''DOME LIGHT!''
The wipers worked, but wouldn’t shut off. She had to crawl under the dash and pull the fuse out. She finally learned to leave the fuse half in, and reach down to turn the wipers off and on at will, steer, operate the pedals – everything except actually see the road.
But it ran. It was the only car that would start on cold, snowy mornings. She was Miss Teen Chauffeur.
When she graduated, her dad sold her ''Bruce'' for a dollar. She loaded everything she owned into it and drove to Chicago. The weight of the car caused the tailpipe to rest on top of the brake line. So she was zooming 70 mph on the eight-lane, and suddenly, no brakes. Beads of sweat!
Luckily, her buddies were driving behind her. Via sign language, she alerted them. They ran interference for her in the traffic. Using the emergency brake, she managed to pull off and come to some semblance of a stop.
Later, on another highway, she heard this flapping noise, only to look in her rear-view mirror and see what remained of the tattered vinyl roof flying through the air and landing, you guessed it, on the car behind.
They all survived, somehow. Bruce ruled the roads for two more years. He finally rested . . . in pieces . . . after she sold him for a $499 profit. The new owner put the engine into his own car.
She likes to think the Spirit of Bruce lives on.
What a car. What a ride.
The story reminds me of Someone whose birthday we're about to celebrate. Someone priceless, loveable and humble. Someone who might not have looked upscale, either, but whose transportation services are totally reliable, too.
Someone to carry you in unique style and personality, with plenty of room for all your friends, who comes through for you in all sorts of weather.
Someone beyond magnificent . . . to take you exactly where you want to go. Dashboard ornaments optional. All you have to do is hang on for the ride of your life.
BRUCE THE MAGNIFICENT
(H)e hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him.
-- Isaiah 53:2b
We gave our daughter Eden her dream car for her 16th birthday, a red 1999 Mitsubishi Eclipse. I know: we are deranged, she is spoiled, we should have spent that money on the starving masses. . . .
But we listened to her two older sisters. They pointed to the endless hand-me-downs ''Beamer'' has endured. Not fair.
Besides, they said, it'll get her where she wants to go, so we won't have to. Bingo!
She has already ''Beamerized'' it with a dashboard hula dancer and ''Bowling Bob'' from her discriminating friends, plus a dolphin dangling from the rear-view mirror, a flowered steering-wheel cover, and a CD container for 5,000 essential tunes. Then there's this felt doll named ''Elliott'' clinging to the ceiling. . . .
So much for sophistication.
But then everybody thought back to THEIR first car. Nobody ELSE had any sophistication, either.
Mine was “Whitby,” a nerdy gold '65 Chevrolet Impala. My husband's was a '64 Pontiac Star Chief, a barge on wheels.
My neighbor topped us all with ''Bruce the Magnificent,'' an enormous green Buick with a terminally peeling vinyl roof.
It had four doors in three colors. After a hit-and-run sideswipe, she had gone to the junkyard for a front quarter, and two doors, all from different model years, and all of which she installed herself.
Yes, ''Bruce'' was no “Car and Driver” cover boy. But he could hold 15 friends. Therefore, everyone loved him.
He only got four blocks to the gallon. But gas was 28 cents. It worked.
Since the radio didn't -- work, that is -- she duct-taped an AM radio to the dashboard. Voila!
The dome light didn’t work, either. So she had a big flashlight that would sit in the front seat. Whenever someone needed light, they'd turn it on, and everyone would yell ''DOME LIGHT!''
The wipers worked, but wouldn’t shut off. She had to crawl under the dash and pull the fuse out. She finally learned to leave the fuse half in, and reach down to turn the wipers off and on at will, steer, operate the pedals – everything except actually see the road.
But it ran. It was the only car that would start on cold, snowy mornings. She was Miss Teen Chauffeur.
When she graduated, her dad sold her ''Bruce'' for a dollar. She loaded everything she owned into it and drove to Chicago. The weight of the car caused the tailpipe to rest on top of the brake line. So she was zooming 70 mph on the eight-lane, and suddenly, no brakes. Beads of sweat!
Luckily, her buddies were driving behind her. Via sign language, she alerted them. They ran interference for her in the traffic. Using the emergency brake, she managed to pull off and come to some semblance of a stop.
Later, on another highway, she heard this flapping noise, only to look in her rear-view mirror and see what remained of the tattered vinyl roof flying through the air and landing, you guessed it, on the car behind.
They all survived, somehow. Bruce ruled the roads for two more years. He finally rested . . . in pieces . . . after she sold him for a $499 profit. The new owner put the engine into his own car.
She likes to think the Spirit of Bruce lives on.
What a car. What a ride.
The story reminds me of Someone whose birthday we're about to celebrate. Someone priceless, loveable and humble. Someone who might not have looked upscale, either, but whose transportation services are totally reliable, too.
Someone to carry you in unique style and personality, with plenty of room for all your friends, who comes through for you in all sorts of weather.
Someone beyond magnificent . . . to take you exactly where you want to go. Dashboard ornaments optional. All you have to do is hang on for the ride of your life.
Saturday, December 13, 2003
SATURDAY: FUNdamentals
A ‘GRANDMA REMEMBERS’ BOX
Here’s a neat gift idea for a new grandmother: a “Grandma Remembers” box for each grandchild.
Purchase a lovely decorative box, large enough to hold at least 8 1/2” x 11” sheets of paper, with a lid. Even better is to purchase such a box in wood or sturdy cardboard at a craft shop and cover it with special fabric, or decoupage it. You can also decorate it with fabric paint. Mark on the lid, “Grandma Remembers Ashley,” or whatever the grandchild’s name is.
Give the box to the grandmother with this idea: as the baby grows up, Grandma can quietly collect little mementoes in that box. You know: the birth announcement, baby pictures, refrigerator drawings, homework papers, thank-you notes, postcards, vacation pictures . . . all the little mementoes of growing up that busy parents often fail to keep.
Then when “Baby” graduates from high school or college, or gets married, the “Grandma Remembers” box makes a lovely, meaningful and unique surprise, unmatched in thoughtfulness and charm.
A ‘GRANDMA REMEMBERS’ BOX
Here’s a neat gift idea for a new grandmother: a “Grandma Remembers” box for each grandchild.
Purchase a lovely decorative box, large enough to hold at least 8 1/2” x 11” sheets of paper, with a lid. Even better is to purchase such a box in wood or sturdy cardboard at a craft shop and cover it with special fabric, or decoupage it. You can also decorate it with fabric paint. Mark on the lid, “Grandma Remembers Ashley,” or whatever the grandchild’s name is.
Give the box to the grandmother with this idea: as the baby grows up, Grandma can quietly collect little mementoes in that box. You know: the birth announcement, baby pictures, refrigerator drawings, homework papers, thank-you notes, postcards, vacation pictures . . . all the little mementoes of growing up that busy parents often fail to keep.
Then when “Baby” graduates from high school or college, or gets married, the “Grandma Remembers” box makes a lovely, meaningful and unique surprise, unmatched in thoughtfulness and charm.
Friday, December 12, 2003
FRIDAY: Vitamin Mom
MUSICAL HANDWASHING
Nothing will make you sick faster than watching people leave a public restroom at an airport or football game without washing their hands. Ewww! Were you raised in a barn? That’s a recipe for spreading the flu and other illnesses. Where was your mother in this most important of hygiene routines?
Here’s an easy way to make sure your children wash their hands after every bathroom visit, sneeze and possible exposure to unwanted germs, as well as before meals and at bedtime and first thing in the morning: make it musical!
From toddlerhood, teach your child to sing or hum “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” while washing hands. That ought to take about 15 seconds, which ought to be enough time. By the time they’re “tweenies” and too cool for that song, they’ll know the drill and be in the habit.
Set up a sturdy stepstool if necessary so that your child can comfortably use the sink. Make sure the water supply is adequate, not just a trickle. Use an anti-bacterial soap, not just a pretty one. A pump style soap dispenser is a good idea for kids.
Teach your child to scrub top and bottom of hands, get under fingernails with the fingernails of the other hand, to get between fingers, and around and inside rings. Rinse well and dry with a disposable paper towel.
When they finish their song and put their paper towel in the wastebasket, teach them to give themselves a little applause – with their brand-spankin’ newly-clean hands!
MUSICAL HANDWASHING
Nothing will make you sick faster than watching people leave a public restroom at an airport or football game without washing their hands. Ewww! Were you raised in a barn? That’s a recipe for spreading the flu and other illnesses. Where was your mother in this most important of hygiene routines?
Here’s an easy way to make sure your children wash their hands after every bathroom visit, sneeze and possible exposure to unwanted germs, as well as before meals and at bedtime and first thing in the morning: make it musical!
From toddlerhood, teach your child to sing or hum “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” while washing hands. That ought to take about 15 seconds, which ought to be enough time. By the time they’re “tweenies” and too cool for that song, they’ll know the drill and be in the habit.
Set up a sturdy stepstool if necessary so that your child can comfortably use the sink. Make sure the water supply is adequate, not just a trickle. Use an anti-bacterial soap, not just a pretty one. A pump style soap dispenser is a good idea for kids.
Teach your child to scrub top and bottom of hands, get under fingernails with the fingernails of the other hand, to get between fingers, and around and inside rings. Rinse well and dry with a disposable paper towel.
When they finish their song and put their paper towel in the wastebasket, teach them to give themselves a little applause – with their brand-spankin’ newly-clean hands!
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