Why is it that the people with the most criticism and complaints and whines are also the people who leave no contact information?  Are they afraid someone will challenge them?  Or are they just the kind of people who hit and run in all aspects of their lives?

 

Am I the only person who has ever wondered about that?

 

It seems to me that if a person comments on the internet, that person should also be ON the internet, if that makes any sense.  Otherwise, they’re just crashing the party.

 

Can anybody also tell me why I take such comments so seriously?  I mean, really?  Most people just sigh or laugh or take it in stride, but me?  I almost always feel as if I’ve been mown down by a faceless hit and run driver who laughs and gives me the finger as he or she drives away in their over-large vehicle with the license plate so mud-spattered that it’s illegible.. 

 

I suppose I could set my comments so people who have something to say but don’t want anyone to know who said it couldn’t say it but I refuse to do it, at least not yet.  Most people really do have something productive to say and I appreciate them and their comments very, very much. And people who say negative things but aren’t afraid or ashamed to tell me who they are, are welcome, too.  I love a fair fight.   But people who say negative things without giving their name or contact information?  There are many words but I’ll just use this one:  Cowards.

 

Anonymous commenters are cowards.  And people who give you a false name and fake contact information are cowards AND liars.

 

And now back to our regularly scheduled program:  Christmas has arrived in my house, and even though there will be very few presents this year, the house is beautiful and I’m having company tonight and next weekend I’m hosting the largest family reunion in the history of the world, the kind where I have to clean more than the three main rooms because there will be so many people, they’ll have to spread out over the whole house.

 

I’m not sure this has ever been done, at least, not all at once.

 

And the day after that, I’m going to Indianapolis to see what my Tumorless Sister has been doing all this rehearsing for.  I can’t wait; her productions are always fantastic and she says that this year her students are, most of them, “professional quality.”  Tumorless, herself, is a professional, so if she says that, I know this show will be great.  Hey, Tumorless, wotcher doin’ after the show?

 

You know those cartoons where a kid gets out your vaccuum cleaner and runs it without a bag?  You know how it sprays crud all over the walls and all over the books in the bookshelves and you have to get down on the floor and pick it out of all the crevices in the jukebox and the tv/vcr/dvd stuff?  Sigh.  Me neither.

 

I’m not going to tell you about the garage.  No sense all of us being depressed.

 

If “Desperate Housewives” was really a reality show, it would tell me how to deal with these things without going postal.  But frankly?  I kind of enjoy the postal part, too.

 

I have not done one single bit of  Christmas shopping.  Not one single bit.

 

But I did make cookies last night. 

 

 

For most of my life, I’ve not had all that high an opinion of organized religion. Part of it is that I’m forever questioning everything, religion included, and part of it is that I don’t always see those who are supposed to represent a particular religion behaving in any kind of proper or generous or even law-abiding way. Quite the opposite seems to be true, at least for those “preachers,” and I use the term loosely, and please notice that I didn’t call them “ministers” because they’re not, who are in the public eye.

Nobody is perfect, of course, but it does seem that certain segments of our society are, and rightly so, held to a higher standard. Maybe I’m just still that naive, but people who claim to follow the tenets of just about any religion, yet who lie and cheat and steal and covet and have unashamed monkey sex with their neighbor’s wife or husband or son or daughter or pet potbellied pig, are not exactly what most people would call any kind of mentor or even a person decent enough to tell anybody else what to do about, well, anything. Anything. Except maybe which parishioners will put out and where to buy some good grass.

Life is full of choices, and while “preachers” are certainly allowed to make mistakes, just like the rest of us, it seems to me that the kind of mistakes mentioned above go beyond the limits of the old “everyone is human” motto. “Preachers” do that stuff. “Ministers” are tempted but have what it takes to resist.

I can’t help but believe that those who carry the torch had better walk carefully. Otherwise, the people who are following the person who is carrying the torch are going to be disillusioned to the point that they will stop going to church and find humor each and every time some top-lofty “do as I say and not as I do” authority figure falls from grace.

Perfection is a done deal. Perfection is carved in stone, and none of us are carved in stone nor do the smart ones wish to be. None of us aspires to be perfect because we know it’s impossible. But knowing we are all imperfect does not give anyone any kind of leeway to willingly choose to be immoral. The way we all deal with the choices life gives us will affect not only ourselves but also those who look to us for comfort and advice.

I for one could not take seriously any kind of advice from a “preacher” who commits adultery, or who lays any kind of inappropriate hand on a person of any age. And any adult who molests a child is scum, and I really don’t care how many letters of the alphabet accompanied his/her name in the school records, or what kind of childhood the molester had. Choices, choices, choices.

People who claim to be religious, yet cloister themselves with ‘their own kind’ within the confines of the church, are also on my poop list. Don’t tell them; they’d be devastated, I’m sure.

However, I will have to say, that if “preachers” were also “ministers,” and if they were all like Pastor Jeff, even someone like me who believes in God but who has seen too much to believe in many people these days, particularly anyone who claims to be a servant of God, might change their mind. And if you had any idea what a hard sell I can be on this topic, you’d click on over to his website right now and see what he’s talking about that makes me talk about maybe. . . . believing some of those guys are actually all right.

Jeff helps me understand the difference between forgiving and condoning, and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. That’s because a great part of his ministry is done by his own example, not necessarily his words. Although his words help, too.

Temptation is one thing; acting on it is quite another.

Where am I going with this? I have no idea. I just read Jeff’s post today and started thinking, and you know how that is: once you start to think, it’s hard to stop.

By that same token, of course, once you stop to think, don’t forget to start again.

Thank you, dear Jeffie. You have no idea what a breath of fresh air you are to someone who believes in God, but who doesn’t put much faith in His representatives.

(I still love to watch Godstuff, though. I wish I could believe they were all like Jeff, but I can’t. Not yet, anyway. Sowwy.)

(And I will always think that the Landover Baptist website is the greatest and most hilarious parody on the internet today.)

(Who can tell me where the title of this post came from? Bonus points, and my total admiration, if you know.)

I teach in a community college, as most of you know, and I just want to say. . . . it’s the most fantastic place I’ve ever taught.

It’s clean and well-designed and all of the windows are intact and the restrooms always have toilet paper and hot water. Seen from the highway, it’s a beautiful jewel of a structure. Seen close up, it’s even better.

I have never yet met an employee who isn’t happy with his or her job here.

There is support from ‘above.’ SUPPORT! My immediate boss is intelligent, funny, and fair. She understands how it is. Even though she is an administrator, she still teaches a full load of classes. Maybe if all administrators still had one foot in the classroom. . . . but I digress. If there is a deadline I’m supposed to meet, or a report I’m supposed to file, she tells me when these things are expected and then she leaves me alone because she trusts me to perform. And I do. She’s the best ‘boss’ I’ve ever had. The BEST.

When I am at school, I feel trusted and fully supported. I know that if I need assistance in any way, all I have to do is ask and it will be done.

My classroom this semester has an overhead dvd/vcr/computer projector!!!! All the rooms have them!!! No more crowding a lot of people around a little tv set!!!

The philosophies and rules of this institution are infinitely fair and intelligent. The faculty and staff are frequently asked about our ideas for the school’s improvement. When we reply, people listen. THEY LISTEN TO US!!!

The majority of the students are here to learn and improve themselves and increase their chances of getting a good job. Sure, there are a few slackers, and admittedly, those slackers make for some good blog posts. But most of the students? Good, hardworking, intelligent people, and I admire them tremendously.

Free parking!

Before I was hired here, I knew nothing about a community college. I knew nobody who’d been to one. Hub had been teaching here, in the evening after his full day at the local high school, for several years, but I was always too busy with my middle school job to attempt anything else. I seldom even asked him about it. I knew nothing but the public school, and its “happenings” were the only life I knew.

Now, I wonder how I ever thought that public school was a good place. When a person has only been exposed to one kind of ANYTHING, how can any person have a valid opinion about it?

Realizing that fact gives me a better perspective on students. It also convinces me further that a good education encompasses more than textbooks and tests. A good education will expose a student to as many different points of view and experiences as possible.

A good occupation will do the same.

I love my life now. I thought I loved it before but honestly? I was just used to it. I didn’t know anything else. Now I do. Now, I can make some comparisons. And speaking comparatively, the old life isn’t smelling like a rose.

I did take a $40,000 pay cut but even so. I’d rather be poor than be a part of the public school’s NCLB idiocy, and put up with administrators who are all sucking out of one common brain cell, and that one ain’t very smart.

But this new life? Mmmmmm, wonderful!