A Nugget of Wisdom

Ps. 141:5

Let the righteous strike me;
It shall be a kindness.
And let him rebuke me;
It shall be as excellent oil;
Let my head not refuse it.

Rev. 3:19

As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten. Therefore be zealous and repent.

I had a conversation yesterday with my dad. We were talking about other things, but he brought out some insight from his career. It was out of the context of post-9/11, when the FBI had to adjust its orientation in part. Before, they had only been concerned with investigations which is collecting information about a crime that has already taken place. Now they needed to collect intelligence, to predict and prevent terrorism before it takes place. They had no framework and no program and they hired my dad out of retirement because of his background in intelligence, and he built for them a program from scratch.

In intelligence,

• There are things you know that you know
• There are things you know that you do not know
• And there are things you do not know that you do not know

"Beep Beep" Baby

Tonight was our eighth anniversary, and for the first time in a long time we got out away from our kids. Unfortunately, because of two weekdays of icy roads and my husband having to tele-commute with our home laptop, the laptop suddenly crashed and we knew we needed to get it fixed tonight during our special little outing.

The Mac Store has a geek-corner in the back where they fix their products. But the way this guy interacted with my husband and the laptop was uncanny to me. I couldn't put my finger on it at first.

The geek took our laptop back and expertly began to assess the situation. He bent down, put his ear against it, and listened. He reported while still listening, "It seems the hard drive is still in place, so that's a good sign." My husband breathed relief. The geek continued, "And when did this all begin? How many days ago?" My husband gave him the recounted story with deep concern.

"Mm, hmm," the geek hummed back to my husband. Next he put his fingers on a magical array of what seemed random keys, and held them there. "And, at what part in this series did the crash actually take place?" he asked.

My husband answered in that fine way all computer people can. The geek continued, "Mm. Yes, well. We've had one beep, and we're waiting for that last beep. And..." (pausing) "there it is. I'm sorry, we're going to have to send it to a specialist. What would you like to do at this point?"

Turns out we took our little laptop home with us 'cause the specialist guy was booked with bad traveling conditions, too.

I have been to the doctor's office for my kids, too many times to count. Concerned mom discusses the situation with the doc expertly examining the child. I realized why it felt so familiar; this was the man-version of doctor visits I had never known till tonight.

OSU Beavers!

Okay, normally sports don't inspire blog posts, but my alum is going to host the civil war against the evil ducks!!

The special chant from the student section for Oregon Ducks

I was there, during the 1998 civil war double overtime! I was out there with them when the crowd rushed the field because they thought it was won in the first overtime, and it took 15 minutes to get everyone off to finish the game. I was there when they rushed the second time, and everyone went down with jackknifes and tore up the football field turf for a souvenir. Where they climbed up on the field goal posts and started swinging on them so hard that they toppled over!

See the fans piled thick with players on the sidelines?



The fans kind of stumble slowly forward over the wall and onto the field. That's not because they aren't excited; no -- they've been standing in the rain and the cold for five hours and no nourishment after the sun has long been gone. The legs, the legs -- OH! Plus they just got practically beaten back by the game officials to clear the field after the first overtime.

I mean, we used to really stink. I remember going to games and we'd never win, and I'd hear the stories of how we haven't won so much for decades.

A couple of guy friends and I stumbled out there and carved their piece of turf, heavy, wet and muddy, then we all hauled it like a dead carcass several blocks off-campus where it was divvied up and hung as a mantle over the doorway.

It was a cathartic shedding. The fans knew it was the last game to be played on the stadium's turf, ever. They were going to tear it up after that and replace it with astroturf. That was the game that ended our losing streak. Ten years later, we're Rose Bowl hopefuls! (And yes, I know what that means, it's the best place to go to win a special extra-game at the end of the season.)

I think even the mascots had a little too long unscripted time before the game, they got in a fist fight too.... :O That was rather interesting....

It wouldn't be much of a stretch to say No. 17 Oregon State is preparing for the biggest game in school history as No. 18 Oregon visits Corvallis for the "Civil War." A win would send the Beavers to the Rose Bowl for the first time since the 1964 season. But they'll get plenty of resistance from the Ducks, who want to enhance their position in the Pac-10 pecking order.

-USA Today

OSU Oregon State fight fight fight!

Angry super-savings grocery shopper

Today I was out on the other side of town grocery shopping. It's always a half-day event! Especially now that Grace is on winter break. So, you know, I time the whole meal thing for all three but little Lijah can't go as long as my girls can till it's the next time to eat. I have a methodology for mood-preservation, meaning, I take the time to attend to him for several minutes trying to keep the other two from breaking through the groceries, sitting in the parking lot before I start up the motor and go home. That way the car is filled with pleasant noises.

Most of the time I keep an eye out the window to make sure no one can look in at me and my babe. This time though, right in front of me there was a big argument taking place. This white man was literally spitting-angry at two Latino men. They were just standing there with frowns on their faces, taking it. I didn't know what it was about, but I immediately got upset. He wasn't listening to them hardly at all, just pointing at this and pointing at that, trying to justify himself in some kind of way. So, I decided to watch a little longer, risking being rude, to try and figure out who was at fault.

It looked like they were just done exchanging insurance information. They kept pointing at the back-end of the Latino men's car. The white man at one point put his hand on the shopping basket while he was being belligerent. So, I figured; the white man accidently pushed a basket into the latino men's car and they persisted to get insurance for the damage. If the white man was at fault, why was he the one who was all upset?

I kept looking down at Lijah to see if he was done. I was thinking about getting out of the car to go over and just insert myself in the issue. I wanted to help give the white man a reply which would ease his frustration. The white man didn't drive a very nice car at all, and it looked like he was on edge because his mom was sitting in the passenger seat, and she was listening to all of the conversation. The latino men looked much more well off by their car and clothes, and, it looks like they hadn't done anything wrong. I kept watching their faces. When were they going to stand up for themselves? I was mentally cheering them on. But, they just stood there and patiently let him yell at them.

I know exactly what I would say. First, nothing, because both of them I am sure would recount their whole side of the story. Plus there's a good chance the Latino men couldn't speak English -- the source of problems in a lot of cases. Then if my suspicions were true I'd keep it simple. I'd say to the white man, "Are you the one who injured their car?" He'd answer. I'd say, "Well then you shouldn't be angry; they should. You should say you're sorry, though I know it was probably an accident."

Even if I didn't say anything correcting to the man, I at least could stand there and patiently and respectfully listen to the Latino men talk. And that is what I wanted to do most of all anyway.

I kept thinking that maybe I should get out, but then maybe I shouldn't. I was hoping that circumstances would guide my conscience. Lijah wasn't done, and I always think in the back of my mind, "What would Ben think?" Not sure he'd be pleased, I ended up sitting there till Lijah was all done. Just as he finished the Latino men had felt it was time to get into their car and get away from him, so since their windshield was right in front of mine (I sit higher so no worries) I waited to see if they'd look at me. I looked at them with compassion and one of them kind of rolled his eyes. I nodded my head a bit.

Then I waited a few moments, just watching some more. I kept directing my attention at the white man and his mom, after they left. I wanted to see how he would fare under the scrutiny of another white person. He gave contact but then turned to his mom, still looking for someone to make excuses at.

I feel like this was an issue of race -- certainly you don't see those roles reversed very often, where Latinos get belligerent with whites in broad daylight. But, maybe it wouldn't have been helpful for me to get involved. After all, I'm not sure if I pass in looks as a white person. But at least I look like an intelligent, rational and active mom (so maybe not lower-class?), which lends credibility I'd hope, to me treating those two like human beings.

Gosh, he was angry. What could have possibly happened that made him so very angry?

Men

They make me nervous!

Until I can get to trusting one, I can't be okay in their presence. Today I was so ancy about it while at church that I was almost talking angry. I just wanted to get the heck out of there. I guess I do that a lot. You've heard of shivers; I'm getting them right now while I type this. I just can't stand the thought that they're looking at me while having a conversation.

I mean, I know I'm a human being, so that's probably what makes interaction with them perfectly normal. I just think that they're all bad, you know? Like, they might be perfectly harmless in what comes out of their mouth, but, underneath there's something which I'd be scared or disgusted by.

I have three brother-in-laws and two of them are Christian, so after all this time I am well adjusted to being somewhat near normal around them. The other non-Christian one I spend a lot more time around, and I happily report that it's been reduced to only the nervousness now.

Have you ever seen someone who talks loudly and adamantly and goes on and on and doesn't really seem to be listening? That's me, around the opposite gender. It's like a pain-soothing technique I utilize so that the conversation will end as quickly as possible. I consistently imagine myself breaking social etiquette and running away right in the middle of whatever I'm blabbing on and on about.

I'm weird.

What 's worth staying awake for?

Everyone is quiet in bed and all is dark. One of many escapades answering the middle-of -the-night call of my son, I finally tuck a returned babe into his crib and then try and fall back asleep. But the wind is blowing outside, and the rain is falling on every surface. I love the sound. The swaying pattern of strong and tender music in taps and drips invigorates a sense of peace. There is a loud thud suddenly, and I realize that the garbage can has been knocked off the curb. "Dang, that's gonna be a mess," I carelessly lament, and roll on cue to get back to sleep.

"'You can break your knees or you can bend them, but either way your're going down; amen?'--God"

--Unknown

Okay let's talk about it

Last spring I conceived a blog entry on this matter but decided against it for the self-centered feel of it. However, my inner narrator kept a good record for me....

My sister invited me to join her for a 'fun-filled three hour trip' to the bowling alley. She's in a league. This was after a previous trip where some nineteen year old was... flirting with me? I don't know. Ask Monica what was going on there. I thought I'd never go back. I took note of the chance for free babysitting, so, I went again, after finding out that there wasn't going to be the same guy there.

Every time I made a trip from that one area where people bowl to concessions I passed a place where there were billiards, and there were several Mexican-American men playing and they had big smiles on their faces. It's like I was their long lost friend by their body language. I'm not interested in the attention so I just kinda looked... at the wall and stuff. Every time I passed, even with my sister next to me, Monica says they were looking at me and not her. With huge smiles.

This a cultural thing, correct? I know that they are more outgoing with their appraisals, as a generalization. Someone once infomed me about it when they saw me in my confusion. This latest experience added to a pattern Monica and others and I have observed, where, when I am with my caucasian friends, there are Mexican men directing a whole bunch of obvious attention to me. I remember the landscaper guy when I was 14 (we rented), staring in the windows at me EVERY SINGLE WEEK. I hated him, he gave me the creeps. I remember Sears was under reconstruction and I was wearing a blouse and slacks and there they were on the two-story roof, making a lot of commotion. I thought someone was in danger. It took me a couple minutes after having looking around and walking inside to think that it was about me. Huh? Theory verified when I exited.

What's the big deal? Do I LOOK Mexican? ?? ?? I can't explain it otherwise, but I don't think I do!



I mean, come on. Well, that might be... umm, is that maybe a Latina hairstyle? Alright (sigh), hair down.



Yeah -- I know. Where is this coming from? Don't you think so? I don't get it. After I gave birth the first time I became hypothyroid, and so since then I have this brown coloring around the lids of my eyes that looks like I put on eye shadow. It's always there. Kinda handy. But does it make some difference?









Unlikely; I started out fair.










Yeah; but... okay, I lived in Utah and I get really dark quick in the sun.

This one below just makes me look ethnic, maybe; even without a tan.



But in the same time frame you can see in the next photo that my skin appears more rosy and pale than this one here.


So, what am I? Well I've got a grandma who is wholly German, and the other three grandparents are at least 25% German, so that makes me about 70% German with the remainder being English, Dutch and I think Scottish, in that order. Hmm; so, if I'm mostly German, does that mean, I'm mostly stubborn and dominating? (tee hee)

Ever since I got uncomfortable that last time, whenever I feel a Latino male eye possibly upon me, I close my eyes and hear my first-person narrator speak on my behalf "Gggeeeerrrrrrrrrmmmaaaaannnnnn. See that square jaw? Hmm? Say it with me; Gerrmannn...."

This hasn't been very politically correct and I'm sorry for the attitude at their expense, because that's not very Christian. On the other hand I'm just trying to say how I feel about it as a woman.

Here is a poor pic of me and a German exchange student friend when I was 21.... I notice that she has the square jaw, the high cheek bones, the prominent chin. We must be long lost sisters. I'll have to tell her next time I see her. Ha ha.



There... discussed.