Friday, July 11, 2008

Who Can Say What I Am Worth?

Do you value your life? To the tune of what amount? If someone were to ask you how much would you sell your child for, would you put a value on your offspring?   

Well it seems that one of those many government agencies has re-evaluated just what an American life is worth. It is down one million. The worth is now $6.9 million in todays standards. So what does that mean for us little folk?

Say your living next to a government  chemical plant and it's giving off toxins into the air that you breath. You are told  that there is a way to put a filter on the plant so that it would be safe for the environment. How would you react? Of course you would want that filter put on because you and your family breath in that air. 

But now this agency has  stepped in and said that the amount of money it would cost to put that filter in would cost more then the value of the lives it affects according to their statistics.  So the filter is not put in. Suck wind you sucker, no don't breath in that air, well, ha, what do you do? 

Hum, reminds me of the old war move, "They were Expendable." 

I believe that there is to much, one hand washes the other, going on in the government and we are just powerless to do anything about it. If you don't believe me, try taking a trip via the airlines. Be pulled out of line and put into one of those booths that can x-ray and expose your body shape to be viewed by an unseen stranger. Hey, I don't even like to undress when I'm at the doctors let alone some idiot TSA agent on a power trip. 

Just look at what happened to that poor woman who was tackled by two huge agents and thrown into a chair then handcuffed because she got to close to the TSA agent as he riffled through her carry on. I don't  care if she told him not to wrinkle her clothes. I've seen how they push their weight around. And to top it off? They don't even x-ray what goes into the belly of the plain. Can you say "suicide bomber?"

Bottom line. We have no say and we are loosing more and more of our rights. And now, it seems, we are Worthless.,2933,380447,00.html  Value of an American life. 

To see video of woman being arrested at airport with excessive force:

Don't Bug Me

I've added something to the park equation. Max!

As I was locking doors and windows, packing Nico's bag, Max's body started slumping closer to the floor. 

"Poor Max, you know were leaving, I'll be going to drop off Nico at pre-school and go and sit in the park while you have to stay at home."

Sit in the park? Why how unthoughtful of me.  Why can't Max sit there too?
Now because Max is with me I've thought it best to sit at that table  where the tree is shading it. ( you can see a photo of the table under my Life and an Empty Tank entry.) He would enjoy it much more then sitting in the car like I had been doing before. That brings me out of the car, into the sunshine and best of all I can hear the birds singing. 

I had been worried that doing my needlepoint under the tree might be asking for a bird to put a down payment on it. It never happened.  But, I never thought about the spiders, ants, and inch worms that would appear and crawl lightly over my back. I'm now living the phrase "go away, you bug me."

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Wasted Time

Big smile, no smile. Two brothers. Different fathers. One picture can say an awful lot as it is said. Thats my father seated on the chair with the very unhappy face. 

His father  was a coal miner in Huerfano, Colorado in the 1900's. 

Conditions in the mines at those times were such, that Miners provided there own blasting powder, shored up their own walls, and laid their own tracks. Often they were cheated in pay when weighing the amount of coal that they had mined. Who wouldn't strike in those conditions.

 Now, who would be so desperate to become a scab in that kind of mine? What were the living conditions of those men who took the risk to earn money to take care of their families? That I've yet to find out, but I do know that my grandfather, the father of the boy seated, took this risk and was killed with a pick for doing so. 

Time passes and my grandmother remarries. What kind of man? That is what I would like to know. Still living in Walsenburg, with mines full of coal, around the age of 2 my dad gains a stepfather. 

Was my father thinking about his Christmas gift in this photo? He was given a red Wagon one Christmas morning. His only gift. Wouldn't that bring a smile to any child's face? I don't know how old he was when he received it, I was only told that he was not allowed to play with the wagon. It was only to be used to haul coal from the mines to his house. 

Was my uncle the favored child? Can't ask. He was killed in his teens when he was hit by a truck.  Was my father abused in other ways? Look at his face. Does it reflect sadness, anger? What things did he experience in his young little life to turn him into a depraved person?

The man he became that I experienced was split. I would play for hours with the slinky he had brought me when he worked out of town. When he came home from work I would rush to his lunch pail  to retrieve the cupcake he would always save for me.    He could tell jokes by the hour. His friends were always around.  His pals called all of the time or stopped  by  to play cards. People thought he was great.

 But I wouldn't let him touch me.

What would he have become had his father lived? A man that was willing to risk his life to take care of his family. What could he have learned from a father who cared so much? 

What would my life have been like? Would I remember my sister beside me on Christmas morning opening gifts? I have not one memory of her on Christmas. Instead I remember a tree  laying on the floor and a mother bent over it, crying, trying to pick up the broken bulbs and decorations. Hum, I thought they must have had a wild party.

Would my brother have gone on to college or become something in the sports world? Instead of punching my dad and my brother ending  up on the floor, would he have gone on to become a great father himself? 

The world of "what ifs" is a waste of time. Because in reality there is no going back. Abuse robs you of time. Time is what you need to sort out your head, your emotions and your life. And because you spend so much time doing that, time passes you by and before you know it, you've wasted it all on what never was. 

You can go to the following website if you would like to read more about the Walsenburg coal strike.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Life and the empty tank.

What am I doing with this gas problem?  You know, I'm not doing a whole lot of traveling and for sure I've been combining errands so as not to waste time or gas. 

 I almost feel patriotic. I keep looking at the empty space in my garden and almost feel guilty as though I should be growing a victory garden vegetable patch. 

Giving my situation a lot of thought as to how I could contribute and help my daughter out, I decided to not come home after drooping my grandson off at school.  He goes to preschool three days a week for 3 hours a day. It is 22 miles round trip. 

Before this gas problem I would drop him off and then go home or do some errands. But with the car getting 19 miles to the gallon I felt as though I was throwing away one gallon of gas by going home.

So I decided I would have to stay around his school area and wait. What could I do in a little town that had not much more then  a small shopping center, Starbucks, and library?

 Hum,I'm trying to give up coffee, I'm also trying not to spend money. That left only the library. Yes I love to read but there was some ex-friend that frequents it and I did not want to run into her. 

Ah ha! I needed time to work on my needle work. Enter "Good Night Moon." Above is the project I chose to work on while I waited. 

Here is where I chose to wait. It is the local park in Mililani Town. I love it. Well, I must admit I don't get out of the car, I put on my earphone and listen to my pod-cast and work away all scrunched up in the seat.  I have really accomplished a lot in that time. I am listening to all of the latest news, book reviews and all about travel. 

I thought about sitting here under this tree as it is just so inviting and there is never anyone in the park but I didn't want to take the chance that some birds would make a down payment on my work. Like me sitting in my car looking out the window, other people pull up to the park and stay in there cars also. Or people walk, run, take there dogs into the parking lot too. Aren't we crazy. All this beauty but we just stay on the asphalt. 

Our we subconsciously mourning the inability to just jump in the auto and go where we want? Is our sitting in the car while at the park some form of rebellion? I don't know but I will say this, I would never have taken time for me, if I had not taken the initiative to save gas. This is one time I don't feel guilty for doing nothing. 

Count Me In

Birds of a Feather

Birds of a Feather
It feels good to be free

Fourth of July in Waikiki

Fourth of July in Waikiki
Early morning view just kicking back

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Do you want to know about Hawaii from a locals point of view? Where do we like to go? What things do we like to see. This blog is about seeing Hawaii without being trapped. This is a journal about Good eats, Hawaiian events, and looking at the islands through the eyes of someone who has lived here for more then forty years.

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