The administration found over $700 billion for the financial institutions. And were devious enough to tie any oversight to assets sold at auction. Which none of the financial institutions are doing. Result: free money! Free to be spent on "retreats" or corporate jets or bonuses to incompetents or any other damned thing striking the fancy of these bozos.
But now Detroit needs help.
Tennessee's junior Senator materialized long enough to propose that any money for the auto makers should include a requirement that the United Auto Workers' members should be forced to take wage cuts to the level of the car plants in the south. Was there ever a clearer statement of the constituency of the modern Republican party?
Citizens whose addresses are on Wall Street, whose bonuses range up to 8 figures (not even counting salaries and stock options), who are getting $700 Billion, are free to answer only to consciences that they apparently don't have. But actual American workers, people who sweat for a living and whose earnings are figured by the hour, have to accept a major hit to see $15 billion in assistance for their companies. That's less than four months of Iraq war money, compared to right at 13 1/2 years of Iraq war money for the financial boys. (I apologize for the math error previously posted. I errantly figured the time at $1 billion per day, when the correct figure is $1 billion per week spent in Iraq. I should never do math in public.) Which also points out that much of this financial/economic crisis/credit crunch has its roots in that godawful war. But I digress.
The Bushies are taking one last run at rewarding the Pioneers, and one last slap at people who have to work. They want to use the "Right to Work" states as the standard. What a fabulous bit of doublespeak that one is! "Right to Work" laws have nothing to do with anyone working. They have only to do with protecting employers from lawsuits when they dismiss people for whatever excuse strikes the Boss' fancy. "Right to Work" laws are political payoffs from people who took sums of money (in campaign contributions) that would make the Illinois Governor blush, directly to the people who made those payoffs. Quid pro quo? You bet your ass!
George W. Bush believes that the United Auto Workers' leadership should sell out their membership, and tie them to the wages of the south's working poor. Hey, they might pull it off. These are the same people who have convinced us rebels that those nasty unions would be an awful thing to get involved with, way down here in Dixie. Yeah, I can see the reasoning. Those terrible unions might get some folks some better wages, overtime pay for overtime worked, better health care, better pensions, safer working conditions...I can see why we'd want to keep them unions out of here!
I saw Phil Silvers on an old What's My Line rerun the other night. They were talking about his old show Sgt. Bilko. We're now watching the last stand of the Commander-in-Chief-Bilker. And we're all the bilkees.
And he didn't even buy us dinner first.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Sensible Sox
Boston Red Sox owner John Henry distributed an email tonight, notifying members of the Boston media that the Sox' pursuit of Mark Teixeira has ended. The message made it plain that when agent Scott Boras, the son of Satan, told Red Sox ownership and management that he had in hand multiple better offers than the 8 years at $184 million that Mr. Henry had put on the table, the Red Sox solons walked.
Bravo!
Hurrah!
Three Cheers!
It looks to me like Mr. Henry brought a whole pile of big old Iraqi-type shoes to throw at the head of Scott Boras, the son of Satan. And I couldn't be prouder!
The claim by Boras, the son of Satan, indicates that someone/s are proposing more years, or more than $23 million per season for the switch-hitting first baseman, late of the Angels. Go ahead, big boy: take it. God bless. And don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!
Either Boras, the son of Satan, is lying again (which is my bet, as his lips were surely moving), or other Major League teams have lost their minds.
The Sox know how risky an eight year deal is. Look up Ramirez, Manny. The Sox know how risky those kinds of dollars are. Look up Drew, J.D. They found their line, stuck to it, and I now have more respect for Theo Epstein, John Henry, Tom Werner and, yes, even Larry Lucchino, than I have ever had before.
We told Scott Boras, the son of Satan, to stick it.
All of baseball needs to tell Scott Boras, the son of Satan, to stick it, permanently.
He, the son of Satan, is feeling his oats after watching Greg Genske get Sabathia's contract, and Darek Braunecker get AJ Burnett's, from the Steinbrenner boys, and figured the Red Sox would be easy prey to manipulate in the ever more expensive game of keeping up with the pinstripes. Not so much. Not this time.
No one except the Yankees can afford to be wrong at those years for those dollars. Even the Red Sox, Mets, Dodgers and Angels would be crippled for years by a contract of that value that didn't produce for the length of the deal.
Scotty, the son of Satan, thought he could play us. If he was bluffing, and calls back, I would reduce the offer by one year and $40 million. And if he doesn't immediately accept, I'd cut it again in 15 minutes.
It is high time that baseball makes it clear to this megalomaniac that he doesn't own the game, he is not bigger than the game, and he will not run the game.
And if, indeed, the Yankees have offered 10 years at $300 million, I hope they sign Tex, and then give Manny an identical deal, and, heck, give Derek Lowe 10 years while you're at it. And then, as your team continues to age and pay people who are broken down for not playing, we'll keep winning World Series with players we draft and develop.
Sorry, Tex. You'd have enjoyed getting a ring next year.
And I'm perfectly delighted to go to war with Mike Lowell and Kevin Youkilis.
Bravo!
Hurrah!
Three Cheers!
It looks to me like Mr. Henry brought a whole pile of big old Iraqi-type shoes to throw at the head of Scott Boras, the son of Satan. And I couldn't be prouder!
The claim by Boras, the son of Satan, indicates that someone/s are proposing more years, or more than $23 million per season for the switch-hitting first baseman, late of the Angels. Go ahead, big boy: take it. God bless. And don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out!
Either Boras, the son of Satan, is lying again (which is my bet, as his lips were surely moving), or other Major League teams have lost their minds.
The Sox know how risky an eight year deal is. Look up Ramirez, Manny. The Sox know how risky those kinds of dollars are. Look up Drew, J.D. They found their line, stuck to it, and I now have more respect for Theo Epstein, John Henry, Tom Werner and, yes, even Larry Lucchino, than I have ever had before.
We told Scott Boras, the son of Satan, to stick it.
All of baseball needs to tell Scott Boras, the son of Satan, to stick it, permanently.
He, the son of Satan, is feeling his oats after watching Greg Genske get Sabathia's contract, and Darek Braunecker get AJ Burnett's, from the Steinbrenner boys, and figured the Red Sox would be easy prey to manipulate in the ever more expensive game of keeping up with the pinstripes. Not so much. Not this time.
No one except the Yankees can afford to be wrong at those years for those dollars. Even the Red Sox, Mets, Dodgers and Angels would be crippled for years by a contract of that value that didn't produce for the length of the deal.
Scotty, the son of Satan, thought he could play us. If he was bluffing, and calls back, I would reduce the offer by one year and $40 million. And if he doesn't immediately accept, I'd cut it again in 15 minutes.
It is high time that baseball makes it clear to this megalomaniac that he doesn't own the game, he is not bigger than the game, and he will not run the game.
And if, indeed, the Yankees have offered 10 years at $300 million, I hope they sign Tex, and then give Manny an identical deal, and, heck, give Derek Lowe 10 years while you're at it. And then, as your team continues to age and pay people who are broken down for not playing, we'll keep winning World Series with players we draft and develop.
Sorry, Tex. You'd have enjoyed getting a ring next year.
And I'm perfectly delighted to go to war with Mike Lowell and Kevin Youkilis.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thanks, Yankees!
The Bronx Money Machine has saved the next few years, five specifically, for the Atlanta Braves. Save the "It's not about the money" crap for another day, please: after the Braves offered AJ Burnett $80 million for 5 years, the Yankees bought him for a mere $2.5 million more. Not, mind you, $2.5 million more per season. $2.5 million more over 5 seasons.
Anybody want to try to make the case that $500,000 at that level covers the difference in the cost, and quality, of living between NYC and Hotlanta?
Didn't think so.
But this isn't a loss for the Braves. It is a chance to spend their money reasonably and responsibly on players who can, again, reasonably be expected to perform for the length of the deal. Five years of Mr. Burnett is six DL trips, minimum. And he's aging.
Five years for Burnett makes sense only for the Yankees, for they are the only team in Major League Baseball who can erase that expensive a mistake and never miss a beat.
Count your blessings, Braves' GM Frank Wren! The Steinbrenner boys saved your hide.
Anybody want to try to make the case that $500,000 at that level covers the difference in the cost, and quality, of living between NYC and Hotlanta?
Didn't think so.
But this isn't a loss for the Braves. It is a chance to spend their money reasonably and responsibly on players who can, again, reasonably be expected to perform for the length of the deal. Five years of Mr. Burnett is six DL trips, minimum. And he's aging.
Five years for Burnett makes sense only for the Yankees, for they are the only team in Major League Baseball who can erase that expensive a mistake and never miss a beat.
Count your blessings, Braves' GM Frank Wren! The Steinbrenner boys saved your hide.
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Braves New World?
The Atlanta Braves had a couple of cups of coffee with success between their mid-60's move from Milwaukee and the 1986 change that made them the best franchise in Major League Baseball, but for most of that time they were terrible.
After the 1985 season, former manager Bobby Cox left the Toronto Blue Jays to return as the Braves' General Manager. He drafted or traded for Tom Glavine, John Smoltz, Chipper Jones, Jeff Blauser, David Justice, Mark Lemke, Mark Wohlers, Steve Avery and Ron Gant, among others. These players were the foundation for the tremendous run that began in 1991, with General Manager Cox having hired himself to take over as field Manager, clearing the way for Ted Turner to recruit John Schuerholz to follow Cox as GM. Their partnership produced an unprecedented run of success in all of professional sport.
The Braves seemed, at times, ruthless in their decision making. Cox had traded the beloved two-time MVP Dale Murphy to clear the way for David Justice to play. The Cox-Schuerholz team allowed future Hall of Famers Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux to leave when they were adjudged too old and/or too expensive to continue with the team. Ron Gant was banished in, seemingly, the prime of his career. He never had another season to match his Braves success. They dealt quickly and harshly with those who disrupted the clubhouse. They acted swiftly to make trades that made the difference (Fred McGriff) and spent what was necessary to succeed (Glavine, Maddux, Smoltz, the Jones Boys, Andres Galarraga). But their trades were rarely reckless, and their spending was almost always on sure things.
Cox remains in the dugout, but John Schuerholz moved from General Manager to Team President before the 2008 season. Frank Wren was promoted to GM.
The tale may soon be told on Mr. Wren's administration.
The Braves have offered A.J. Burnett a five year, $80 million contract to take over as their ace.
In the 2008-2009 hot stove period, no one in their right mind would ever consider giving Kerry Wood a five year starter's deal for that kind of money. The reports are that Wood is on the verge of a contract with the Cleveland Indians that would pay him $20 million for two years to close. That seems reasonable, as Wood had a good year closing for the Cubs in 2008. His innings were limited as a closer. His career-long injury problems were kept to a minimum. The longest he was down was due to a reported blister problem.
Burnett is six months older than Kerry Wood. And if you compare their career statistics, leaving out 2008, as Wood closed, and Burnett had what, in all likelihood, will prove to be his career year, you find some very interesting comparisons:
Burnett: 69-66, 176 starts, 1155 IP, 988 h, 483 ER, 482 bb, 1047 k, 3.76 ERA
Wood: 72-57, 178 starts, 1128.2 IP, 875 h, 461 ER, 546 bb, 1299 k, 3.68 ERA
Wood has been, marginally at most points, the better pitcher. The tragedy of Kerry Wood, as most fans know, has been the 12 trips to the disabled list. But A.J. Burnett has been on the DL 10 times. Each has had a lost season: 2006 for Wood, 2003 for Burnett. They so closely mirror one another that they each had 4 starts in their lost campaign.
Frank Wren thinks he knows something that no one else, other than the money-means-nothing-to-us New York Yankees, knows.
He better be right, because if he's not, he's going to be saddled with a contract that will cripple the Braves for the next half-decade.
After the 1985 season, former manager Bobby Cox left the Toronto Blue Jays to return as the Braves' General Manager. He drafted or traded for Tom Glavine, John Smoltz, Chipper Jones, Jeff Blauser, David Justice, Mark Lemke, Mark Wohlers, Steve Avery and Ron Gant, among others. These players were the foundation for the tremendous run that began in 1991, with General Manager Cox having hired himself to take over as field Manager, clearing the way for Ted Turner to recruit John Schuerholz to follow Cox as GM. Their partnership produced an unprecedented run of success in all of professional sport.
The Braves seemed, at times, ruthless in their decision making. Cox had traded the beloved two-time MVP Dale Murphy to clear the way for David Justice to play. The Cox-Schuerholz team allowed future Hall of Famers Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux to leave when they were adjudged too old and/or too expensive to continue with the team. Ron Gant was banished in, seemingly, the prime of his career. He never had another season to match his Braves success. They dealt quickly and harshly with those who disrupted the clubhouse. They acted swiftly to make trades that made the difference (Fred McGriff) and spent what was necessary to succeed (Glavine, Maddux, Smoltz, the Jones Boys, Andres Galarraga). But their trades were rarely reckless, and their spending was almost always on sure things.
Cox remains in the dugout, but John Schuerholz moved from General Manager to Team President before the 2008 season. Frank Wren was promoted to GM.
The tale may soon be told on Mr. Wren's administration.
The Braves have offered A.J. Burnett a five year, $80 million contract to take over as their ace.
In the 2008-2009 hot stove period, no one in their right mind would ever consider giving Kerry Wood a five year starter's deal for that kind of money. The reports are that Wood is on the verge of a contract with the Cleveland Indians that would pay him $20 million for two years to close. That seems reasonable, as Wood had a good year closing for the Cubs in 2008. His innings were limited as a closer. His career-long injury problems were kept to a minimum. The longest he was down was due to a reported blister problem.
Burnett is six months older than Kerry Wood. And if you compare their career statistics, leaving out 2008, as Wood closed, and Burnett had what, in all likelihood, will prove to be his career year, you find some very interesting comparisons:
Burnett: 69-66, 176 starts, 1155 IP, 988 h, 483 ER, 482 bb, 1047 k, 3.76 ERA
Wood: 72-57, 178 starts, 1128.2 IP, 875 h, 461 ER, 546 bb, 1299 k, 3.68 ERA
Wood has been, marginally at most points, the better pitcher. The tragedy of Kerry Wood, as most fans know, has been the 12 trips to the disabled list. But A.J. Burnett has been on the DL 10 times. Each has had a lost season: 2006 for Wood, 2003 for Burnett. They so closely mirror one another that they each had 4 starts in their lost campaign.
Frank Wren thinks he knows something that no one else, other than the money-means-nothing-to-us New York Yankees, knows.
He better be right, because if he's not, he's going to be saddled with a contract that will cripple the Braves for the next half-decade.
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Time Heals All Wounds...But This One: 28
I usually turn on the Monday Night Football game. Not tonight.
I usually look at the poster on my wall. Not today.
I often turn the radio up when a certain artist's songs come on. Not right now.
John Lennon died 28 years ago today. Howard Cosell informed the nation during Monday Night Football. Stations go out of their way to play John's music on this date. Yoko issues statements about John's legacy. People hold candlelight vigils.
I don't need it.
I can't take it.
I missed the Beatles. The Kennedys and King were dead by the time I knew the world. But John was The Guy.
John mattered. His opinions and following scared Nixon. There was no more honorable position in my early political awareness than "Nixon Enemy." He scared them so badly they tried to throw him out of the country. The Supreme Court, back when they used to make good decisions, wouldn't let them. It was cool to look up to John. He wasn't embarassing. Ever. Not even on the "Lost Weekend." He spent it with Harry Nilsson, for crying out loud. Don't get cooler than that.
What would John have written about Iraq? How would he have lent his voice to the protest over Bush's destruction of our civil liberties? How might he have shared the move to grandparenting, the new millenium, Obama's election or his ever-growing love for Yoko?
It's too hard, still too painful to think about.
I don't understand, and don't intend to understand, how any person, even a crazy one, can take another life. It just doesn't make sense. But why did it have to be John? Of all the people just taking up space, why the most creative, most powerful, most vibrant figure of his generation, or any since?
28...38...108...I don't need it. I'd like to take December 8 off the calendar. Just eradicate it.
If only that could give him back to us.
I usually look at the poster on my wall. Not today.
I often turn the radio up when a certain artist's songs come on. Not right now.
John Lennon died 28 years ago today. Howard Cosell informed the nation during Monday Night Football. Stations go out of their way to play John's music on this date. Yoko issues statements about John's legacy. People hold candlelight vigils.
I don't need it.
I can't take it.
I missed the Beatles. The Kennedys and King were dead by the time I knew the world. But John was The Guy.
John mattered. His opinions and following scared Nixon. There was no more honorable position in my early political awareness than "Nixon Enemy." He scared them so badly they tried to throw him out of the country. The Supreme Court, back when they used to make good decisions, wouldn't let them. It was cool to look up to John. He wasn't embarassing. Ever. Not even on the "Lost Weekend." He spent it with Harry Nilsson, for crying out loud. Don't get cooler than that.
What would John have written about Iraq? How would he have lent his voice to the protest over Bush's destruction of our civil liberties? How might he have shared the move to grandparenting, the new millenium, Obama's election or his ever-growing love for Yoko?
It's too hard, still too painful to think about.
I don't understand, and don't intend to understand, how any person, even a crazy one, can take another life. It just doesn't make sense. But why did it have to be John? Of all the people just taking up space, why the most creative, most powerful, most vibrant figure of his generation, or any since?
28...38...108...I don't need it. I'd like to take December 8 off the calendar. Just eradicate it.
If only that could give him back to us.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Alma Mater, What's the Matter?
Our college is in trouble.
They need the churches of our little conference to pony up on the plus-side of $500,000 to meet December payroll and get them to the first of the year. Or else.
Let's look back.
In 1982, the Board of Trustees ended a 20-year presidency at the college. It was probably time, but was difficult anyway. Those things always are. (Full disclosure: the man who left the presidency in 1982 became my father-in-law in 2002.) At that point, the college had an 8-figure endowment. They brought in a very, very fine man, who had been a very, very fine Dean at one of our sister institutions. As President of our school, he had been a very fine dean. Decent man, but bland doesn't begin to cover it.
When that term ended, early, the Board wanted someone dynamic and visionary. So they allowed themselves to be played like so many Stradivari, and hired one of the nation's great con men. He spent his time and the College's money chartering planes to China, making donations to Asian institutions which would bestow honorary doctorates upon him, and attempting to remove faculty and staff who asked questions about his shenanigans. Which the Board of Trustees allowed him to continue.
Finally, sobriety returned, and the con man was sent on his way.
Next, another good Dean, the best of the post-1982 group, but a Dean nonetheless.
Finally, Fred Zuker arrived. Fred beautified the campus. He developed a neighborhood association. He got the city to close some streets bounding the campus, so everybody felt safer. Fred's a friendly guy. So he brought some friends with him. And one of them, assigned to the Financial Aid office, handed out bushel baskets full of financial aid that the college did not have. The President fiddled while Rome burned. Now, he's gone too.
And so is the endowment.
The college received just short of $400,000 from the Conference in 2007. It was scheduled to receive a like amount in 2008, and is approved for the same number in 2009. At a time when only 82% of the total apportionment is being paid across the Conference. And, while I haven't seen this year's figures, I'd bet the farm I don't have that it will be lower this year. Bad economy, anyone?
This is a tough time to be in the charitable giving business.
With a few members having lost jobs, others being concerned about possible layoffs, and everyone anxious about where this economic mess will end up, my church's accounts are down for the year. But we still paid our apportionments in full. Yes, that's paid, because my people are such stewards of their United Methodist identity that they make payments monthly, January through October, to satisfy their apportionment in 10 months. No credit to me; that's the way they've done it for years.
Few of our churches perform like mine. Most of those that will pay 100% by the end of the year are scrambling right now to raise the necessary funds. And an ever-increasing number of them will not pay 100%. Some only dream, nostalgically, of reaching that mark.
We are also working right now to support some of our institutions that care for the needy. UM Neighborhood Centers is scrambling to keep the wolf from the door, as is Reelfoot Rural Ministry. The elderly housing agency has jettisoned the poorest of their residences; cost too much to do ministry there, don't you know.
And in the middle of all of this, our college wants help.
It costs $25,000 for one year for one student to attend our college. Let that soak in for a moment.
What percentage of the families that are about to be asked to give to the college can afford to send their children to school there? (More disclosure: I have a step-son in school there. Through a lot of Aid, and by the skin of our teeth, financially. My daughter attends the University of Memphis.) How many underprivileged kids is this church-related college educating? Who, exactly, are they serving in 2008?
I do not relish the idea of losing the college. (Final disclosure: I am an alum, as is my wife, her brother and my parents. My grandfather chaired the Board of Trustees in the late 50' and early 60's. I am grateful for what the college has done for our families.) But I also do not like being told that we, across the Conference, have to produce for the college north of a half-million dollars, on top of a $400,000 apportionment, at a time when most of us are being badgered to pay every nickel in apportionments possible, we're scraping everywhere we can for donations of food, toys and winter clothing for the needy, and, I suspect, most of us in the clergy are foregoing even the cost of living adjustment that would merely keep us even with last year.
The US Constitution does not guarantee CITI Group, AIG or Lehman Brothers the right to run their businesses into the ground with the expectation that the American public would bail them out of holes of their own making afterward. Nor are GM, Ford and Chrysler guaranteed the right to make terrible automobiles, treat their workers as expensive nuisances, and fight every environment-friendly proposal that ever came down the pike, and, again, be bailed out of holes of their own making afterward.
In a like manner, the United Methodist Book of Discipline does not guarantee the Lambuth College Board of Trustees the right to mismanage the school for more than a generation, and expect the churches to then fix their self-inflicted problems for them.
Like the decisions being made in Washington right now, our leaders may choose to obligate us for those bad decisions. But there is one difference that should be noted: the folk in Washington can tell the country how they are going to spend our money, and at least until the next election, there's not one thing we can do about it. On the other hand, there is absolutely no way whatsoever to dictate to those people in the pews that they should bail out the college for 26 years of bad decisions.
They need the churches of our little conference to pony up on the plus-side of $500,000 to meet December payroll and get them to the first of the year. Or else.
Let's look back.
In 1982, the Board of Trustees ended a 20-year presidency at the college. It was probably time, but was difficult anyway. Those things always are. (Full disclosure: the man who left the presidency in 1982 became my father-in-law in 2002.) At that point, the college had an 8-figure endowment. They brought in a very, very fine man, who had been a very, very fine Dean at one of our sister institutions. As President of our school, he had been a very fine dean. Decent man, but bland doesn't begin to cover it.
When that term ended, early, the Board wanted someone dynamic and visionary. So they allowed themselves to be played like so many Stradivari, and hired one of the nation's great con men. He spent his time and the College's money chartering planes to China, making donations to Asian institutions which would bestow honorary doctorates upon him, and attempting to remove faculty and staff who asked questions about his shenanigans. Which the Board of Trustees allowed him to continue.
Finally, sobriety returned, and the con man was sent on his way.
Next, another good Dean, the best of the post-1982 group, but a Dean nonetheless.
Finally, Fred Zuker arrived. Fred beautified the campus. He developed a neighborhood association. He got the city to close some streets bounding the campus, so everybody felt safer. Fred's a friendly guy. So he brought some friends with him. And one of them, assigned to the Financial Aid office, handed out bushel baskets full of financial aid that the college did not have. The President fiddled while Rome burned. Now, he's gone too.
And so is the endowment.
The college received just short of $400,000 from the Conference in 2007. It was scheduled to receive a like amount in 2008, and is approved for the same number in 2009. At a time when only 82% of the total apportionment is being paid across the Conference. And, while I haven't seen this year's figures, I'd bet the farm I don't have that it will be lower this year. Bad economy, anyone?
This is a tough time to be in the charitable giving business.
With a few members having lost jobs, others being concerned about possible layoffs, and everyone anxious about where this economic mess will end up, my church's accounts are down for the year. But we still paid our apportionments in full. Yes, that's paid, because my people are such stewards of their United Methodist identity that they make payments monthly, January through October, to satisfy their apportionment in 10 months. No credit to me; that's the way they've done it for years.
Few of our churches perform like mine. Most of those that will pay 100% by the end of the year are scrambling right now to raise the necessary funds. And an ever-increasing number of them will not pay 100%. Some only dream, nostalgically, of reaching that mark.
We are also working right now to support some of our institutions that care for the needy. UM Neighborhood Centers is scrambling to keep the wolf from the door, as is Reelfoot Rural Ministry. The elderly housing agency has jettisoned the poorest of their residences; cost too much to do ministry there, don't you know.
And in the middle of all of this, our college wants help.
It costs $25,000 for one year for one student to attend our college. Let that soak in for a moment.
What percentage of the families that are about to be asked to give to the college can afford to send their children to school there? (More disclosure: I have a step-son in school there. Through a lot of Aid, and by the skin of our teeth, financially. My daughter attends the University of Memphis.) How many underprivileged kids is this church-related college educating? Who, exactly, are they serving in 2008?
I do not relish the idea of losing the college. (Final disclosure: I am an alum, as is my wife, her brother and my parents. My grandfather chaired the Board of Trustees in the late 50' and early 60's. I am grateful for what the college has done for our families.) But I also do not like being told that we, across the Conference, have to produce for the college north of a half-million dollars, on top of a $400,000 apportionment, at a time when most of us are being badgered to pay every nickel in apportionments possible, we're scraping everywhere we can for donations of food, toys and winter clothing for the needy, and, I suspect, most of us in the clergy are foregoing even the cost of living adjustment that would merely keep us even with last year.
The US Constitution does not guarantee CITI Group, AIG or Lehman Brothers the right to run their businesses into the ground with the expectation that the American public would bail them out of holes of their own making afterward. Nor are GM, Ford and Chrysler guaranteed the right to make terrible automobiles, treat their workers as expensive nuisances, and fight every environment-friendly proposal that ever came down the pike, and, again, be bailed out of holes of their own making afterward.
In a like manner, the United Methodist Book of Discipline does not guarantee the Lambuth College Board of Trustees the right to mismanage the school for more than a generation, and expect the churches to then fix their self-inflicted problems for them.
Like the decisions being made in Washington right now, our leaders may choose to obligate us for those bad decisions. But there is one difference that should be noted: the folk in Washington can tell the country how they are going to spend our money, and at least until the next election, there's not one thing we can do about it. On the other hand, there is absolutely no way whatsoever to dictate to those people in the pews that they should bail out the college for 26 years of bad decisions.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Why the Happiness?
Dustin Pedroia and Tito Francona are overjoyed because of:A) Pedroia's 2007 AL Rookie of the Year Award
B) Winning the 2007 World Series
C) Pedroia's 2008 Gold Glove Award
D) Pedroia's 2008 Silver Slugger Award
E) Pedroia's 2008 AL MVP Award
F) The 6 year (with an option for 2015) contract that the Sox and their Mighty Mite have agreed to today
Answer: All of the above, but especially F!
Monday, December 01, 2008
OK, Now the Truth
I really, really tried to think happy thoughts (see previous post). Like it would help tonight. I may be fooling everybody else. But I'm not fooling me.
Or, at least, not my migraine.
I don't know where these things came from. Neither of my parents are headache sufferers. But as long as I can remember, they come. Changes in the weather. Too much caffeine. Too little. Certain foods, some known to me that I strenuously avoid; others, most certainly, still a mystery. Too little sleep. That last one is murder for a notorious insomniac. The triggers are many, and scattered around through life like little land mines, just waiting for the weight of a footstep.
I stepped on one today.
I'm not even sure which one(s).
That prescription does me no good. Sometimes, when I am awake and recognize the onset, the Excedrin Migraine Strength can mute them a bit. But I have to take it right at the beginning; if the thing gets hold of me, nothing stops it but sleep, and lots of it.
Sleep didn't work today.
If you care about me and get scared over this next part, don't worry. I'm not contemplating. But I do understand why some of the miserable wretches I've read about who have these things go on for a month or longer kill themselves. My worst have lasted about a week. I've had a kidney stone. Didn't hurt like this. I've cut off the end of a finger. No comparison. I've been through a divorce. Not even close, although I don't seem to get as many of them since the end of that marriage.
I can't make the childbirth comparison, obviously, but that's the only thing I can even imagine outpacing this little joy.
The incapacitating nature of the migraine reveals human character to us sufferers. There are, actually, two kinds of people after all: those who get migraines, and those who don't. Those who get them are always, always, always sympathetic to others who know the plight. And those who don't are just as uniformly indifferent to a person in the throes of one.
Our kitchen sink is 50 feet from our bed, through two walls and a door. The drip in that sink sounds like a bass drum surrounding my head when a migraine is in process. The tick of my wife's batter operated clock-on the far wall of our bathroom-sounds like the Sixty Minutes watch amplified by Led Zeppelin's old speaker arrangement. Light-the slightest light, like the clock on the cable box, the "on" light on The Roommate's breathing machine, the alarm clock on the dimmest setting-are spears jammed repeatedly into the eyeball that fronts that particular version of the migraine. Sometimes they are accompanied by violent nausea and flashes of light that are visible only to the one with the headache.
Such has been today.
But tomorrow's another day...
Or, at least, not my migraine.
I don't know where these things came from. Neither of my parents are headache sufferers. But as long as I can remember, they come. Changes in the weather. Too much caffeine. Too little. Certain foods, some known to me that I strenuously avoid; others, most certainly, still a mystery. Too little sleep. That last one is murder for a notorious insomniac. The triggers are many, and scattered around through life like little land mines, just waiting for the weight of a footstep.
I stepped on one today.
I'm not even sure which one(s).
That prescription does me no good. Sometimes, when I am awake and recognize the onset, the Excedrin Migraine Strength can mute them a bit. But I have to take it right at the beginning; if the thing gets hold of me, nothing stops it but sleep, and lots of it.
Sleep didn't work today.
If you care about me and get scared over this next part, don't worry. I'm not contemplating. But I do understand why some of the miserable wretches I've read about who have these things go on for a month or longer kill themselves. My worst have lasted about a week. I've had a kidney stone. Didn't hurt like this. I've cut off the end of a finger. No comparison. I've been through a divorce. Not even close, although I don't seem to get as many of them since the end of that marriage.
I can't make the childbirth comparison, obviously, but that's the only thing I can even imagine outpacing this little joy.
The incapacitating nature of the migraine reveals human character to us sufferers. There are, actually, two kinds of people after all: those who get migraines, and those who don't. Those who get them are always, always, always sympathetic to others who know the plight. And those who don't are just as uniformly indifferent to a person in the throes of one.
Our kitchen sink is 50 feet from our bed, through two walls and a door. The drip in that sink sounds like a bass drum surrounding my head when a migraine is in process. The tick of my wife's batter operated clock-on the far wall of our bathroom-sounds like the Sixty Minutes watch amplified by Led Zeppelin's old speaker arrangement. Light-the slightest light, like the clock on the cable box, the "on" light on The Roommate's breathing machine, the alarm clock on the dimmest setting-are spears jammed repeatedly into the eyeball that fronts that particular version of the migraine. Sometimes they are accompanied by violent nausea and flashes of light that are visible only to the one with the headache.
Such has been today.
But tomorrow's another day...
A Bragging Moment
We kicked off Advent yesterday by incorporating the Hanging of the Green order into each of the Morning Worship services. In case anyone wants to correct me, that it's supposed to be "Hanging of the Greens" rather than my way, I claim no purity. I simply own my southern upbringing, and images of turnip or collard greens being strewn about the sanctuary don't do anything for me.
Our youth led the order. Our kids have led worship several times since I've been here. They are outstanding! They listen. They practice. They seem to like being involved, down to a one. It is a privilege and a joy to work with them, and to put them in charge.
I have, previously, sat in the preacher chair, right in the middle of the action, when they've led things. I have wanted to be there, close, in case anyone got lost, stuck or anything else. Yesterday, I sat in the congregation until it was my turn, about half-way through the service. I wanted them to know that I believe in them, trust them, and knew that they could handle things. I do, I do, and they did.
With all of the challenges out there in the big, scary world, it is a great encouragement to see teenagers who are choosing (yeah, sure, some with the parental foot applied to the point of motivation) to be at church, involved, leading and active, growing their faith. This is not to say that they never make mistakes. They are kids. There are usually issues from school, home and otherwise to work through. But so far, this has also proved to be a place where kids rally around kids when the problems arise, and, more remarkably, the parents have done the same. It is so tempting for us parent-types to want to insulate our own from any others that make bad choices; innoculation by distance, don't you know? But it is truly not an issue of "bad kids"--just kids. And they need love and encouragement even more when they hit a bump.
But they will hit fewer of those bumps if they are busy with matters of the faith and the church, rather than being turned loose to find their own involvements.
It was a very good day, the fruit of hard work by parents and youth leaders, and a significant level of commitment by a group of young people who are all too frequently written off as immature and indifferent. Well done, all!
Our youth led the order. Our kids have led worship several times since I've been here. They are outstanding! They listen. They practice. They seem to like being involved, down to a one. It is a privilege and a joy to work with them, and to put them in charge.
I have, previously, sat in the preacher chair, right in the middle of the action, when they've led things. I have wanted to be there, close, in case anyone got lost, stuck or anything else. Yesterday, I sat in the congregation until it was my turn, about half-way through the service. I wanted them to know that I believe in them, trust them, and knew that they could handle things. I do, I do, and they did.
With all of the challenges out there in the big, scary world, it is a great encouragement to see teenagers who are choosing (yeah, sure, some with the parental foot applied to the point of motivation) to be at church, involved, leading and active, growing their faith. This is not to say that they never make mistakes. They are kids. There are usually issues from school, home and otherwise to work through. But so far, this has also proved to be a place where kids rally around kids when the problems arise, and, more remarkably, the parents have done the same. It is so tempting for us parent-types to want to insulate our own from any others that make bad choices; innoculation by distance, don't you know? But it is truly not an issue of "bad kids"--just kids. And they need love and encouragement even more when they hit a bump.
But they will hit fewer of those bumps if they are busy with matters of the faith and the church, rather than being turned loose to find their own involvements.
It was a very good day, the fruit of hard work by parents and youth leaders, and a significant level of commitment by a group of young people who are all too frequently written off as immature and indifferent. Well done, all!
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