Unlike tea brains, I don’t want to take back “my” country.  It has never been mine to take back.  It is our country.  There are several hundred million people with dreams different from my dreams.  Those people have a right to strive to reach their goals-whether they are black, white, red, brown, or purple, Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, or atheist.

Some of my ancestors came from Germany in the late 1880’s.  Others were Germans who came from Odessa, Russia-the story may be apocryphal, but I have been told they moved to Russia to escape being forced into some German baron’s military schemes, so I claim draft-dodgers in my family tree, which infuriates some family members.

Guess which language my great grandparents spoke at home.  It wasn’t English.  They attended a German Baptist Church.  The services were conducted in-you guessed it, German.  My beloved grandmother spoke English with a German accent.  So, I don’t have a serious problem if some first generation Latino immigrants speak Spanish.

Today at lunch I saw a bumper sticker that read “Jesus was not a white man.” Well, given he came from the Middle East, that is not a far-fetched idea.  I would suggest it really doesn’t change anything, yet some members of my family would never allow Jesus to be what they would describe as a “towel head.” Amazing.

I think it is a national shame that we are afraid of and belittle those who are a different race, color, or creed. 

For those who say deporting all illegal immigrants will solve problems ranging from crowded schools to crime to healthcare, aren’t you assuming that once deported these people will never return to the U.S.? The electronic fence is a total failure, and I doubt the tall fence being built will keep out someone really determined to come to this country.  So is stationing tens of thousands of troops along our border the way to go?  Maybe it would be less costly to throw out the racist attitudes and let these people work toward becoming citizens, make that tax paying citizens.

I am a Democrat living in Nebraska.  That means many of the people I work with, many of my friends are Republicans.  Yet we get along.  We have differences but are able to work around them. Is that such a difficult concept for members of Congress to understand? 

Is asking our elected officials to lead us more than they are capable of giving?  Is asking them to govern more than citizens have a right to expect?  Forget about asking-we need to demand that they set aside political differences and work to make our country the best in the world.  We don’t need two more years of gridlock.  We don’t need two more months of gridlock.  We need solutions now. 

The tea baggers got together and had some election night success in 2010. I don’t think their views are those of the majority of Americans. Maybe it is time for moderates to unite.  For middle of the road Democrats and Republicans to come together and simply say we have had enough.  Either work together for the good of the country or your days feeding at the public trough are going to end next election.  Forget the petty politics of revenge or you can join us in the public sector struggling to make ends meet. There are many more people in the middle than at either end of the spectrum.  It is past time we caucused and show our strength. 

Thanks for stopping by and listening to my rant.

Thanks to Kim for the following, and thank you for stopping by.

When my “real job” sent me to Kansas City for the month of October and early November, I was excited about the trip. Not just because there is great steak and BBQ out here, but a strong tie to NASCAR as well.

There is, of course the Kansas Speedway, which will welcome not just one but two races beginning in 2011. There is also a plan for a second Victory Junction Gang Camp to open its doors somewhere in the region.

The big question is when. And unfortunately, that answer is a bit in the air right now.

This week I took a little time out to speak with Kyle Brenner, the Director of Development at Victory Junction Gang Camp Kansas. When I called, he was running around Kansas City with Patti Petty, wife of Kyle Petty and co-founder of the original VJGC in North Carolina. They were on the hunt for a piece of land that would fit the camp, but also wouldn’t break the non-profit’s bank account.

“The Unified Government (of Wyandotte County and Kansas City, Kansas) was donating the land (they were originally going to build the camp on) but it fell through,” explained Brenner. “So now we are looking for land that will meet our needs and is conducive to our budget.”

The camp can’t be built on just any piece of land. The original VJGC in North Carolina is on 70 acres of relatively flat land, surrounded by farms and more land. Brenner originally said they had 100 acres in NC, but he was corrected by Patti, who said “Nope, we have 70 acres” from the passenger’s seat of the car they were in. ‘We need 80 here” Kyle went on to explain. “40 to build on and another 40 as buffer and parking for visitors, volunteers, and employees who also come to the camp.” That buffer is for the safety of the campers, who are often seriously ill or require wheelchairs to get around the facility. It gives them separation from the noise and chaos of the outside world, and allows them to have as much fun and make as much noise as they want to while partaking in the activities provided each day.

The crew wants to have the land cleared and the first building up by the time NASCAR comes back to town in June, but time is running short to meet that goal. They will need to take ownership of the land, clear and level the land, and then begin building — all in just over six months time.

The camp has been in the works for just over two years. It was a common comment that the camp in North Carolina was just too far away to safely transport children with medical needs across the country from the west coast and Midwest. So a search was done, and it was decided that the Kansas City area would be a great “mid-way” point to build a second camp that would provide the same experience for children in the Western United States as was being provide to children on the east coast.

A ground breaking was held, and it seemed like the project was set to go full speed ahead. Until the most important thing fell through.

A deal couldn’t be worked out with the original property.

At the same time, fundraising efforts were hitting roadblocks because of the recession.

“We host 120 children a week for 14 weeks over the summer,” Kyle explained. “You multiply that times two for the volunteers and full time staff, so about 300 people. And most of the full time staff lives on the property year round. That is a lot of people to feed and house.” And to feed and house them, money has to be available to cover the medical expenses as well.

“You name it, we need it,” he said.

Patti Petty is in town this week and next, driving with Kyle Brenner from place to place, looking for land and money to help them in their effort. They are speaking at Children’s Mercy Life Conference at Children’s Mercy Hospital (“Victory Junction: Keeping Adam Petty’s Dream Alive”), and taking part in a “Toys for Tots” toy drive this weekend. Next week, they are appearing at a local Town Hall meeting, followed by a trip to a Kiwanis fundraiser at a Culvers in Village West in Kansas City, Kansas, Thursday evening from 5-8 pm. (The Kiwanis have pledged to build a building at the new camp.) They will be meeting with members of the Unified Government, and the Mayor of Kansas City this week as well.

They are looking to host a gala in February (2011), and a marathon at the Kansas Speedway in May.

Anything they can do to help raise awareness, raise money, and get the project rolling, they want to make it happen.

When I asked Kyle how he got involved with the VJGC, he commented, “I was with the Pettys in North Carolina. I worked with the excavation of the original camp. I saw the other camp (built) from start to finish.”

He is also friends with Austin Petty, and worked with Austin as a camp counselor at a Boggy Creek camp (associated with Paul Newman’s Hole in the Wall camps) in Orlando. He stayed on with the Pettys at the original camp, and two months ago was asked to come out to Kansas City to spearhead the effort to make this camp a reality.

It has been a huge undertaking, but he is optimistic that they will have children in attendance for the first time in the summer of 2013. “It will take us two years to get the camp up and running,” he said as they pulled in for a quick bite to eat between meetings.

Those two years won’t start, however, until they first get that piece of land to build that first building on.

If you want to find a way to help the Victory Junction Gang Camp- Midwest, please reach out to Kyle and let him know how you want to help. You can e-mail him at kbrenner@victoryjunction.org, or call him at 616-293-9301.

If you want to know more about Victory Junction Gang Camp, either in North Carolina or Kansas, you can visit www.victoryjunction.org.

Our country is in desperate need of leadership and all we get is politicians.  Spending two years dismantling what one side did the past two years takes our country nowhere, but that seems to be our immediate future. We need people with bold ideas to solve job, healthcare, social security, education, infrastructure, homeless, immigrant, and defense problems our country faces-people with the courage to do something about these problems, people who understand that for the good of our country we have to be willing to work with those who disagree with us.  Instead we get demagogues.

I can’t ever remember feeling more discouraged about the future of our country.  Whether the Democrats maintain control of Congress the Republicans gain control, or one party controls the Senate and the other the House, really doesn’t matter. We get more of the same. I think the country is at a crossroads, and politicians are more worried about currying favor with those they believe can keep them in power than in guiding our country out of its doldrums.

We don’t need sound bytes, photo ops, and hate ads, but politicians have so little respect for the public, this is what they give us. I would say I don’t like the direction my country is headed, except if you look at the hundreds of politicians standing at the crossroads, you see most with their heads or thumbs up their butts, not having a clue what the country needs, just wanting to settle political scores.

As Eric Clapton said: “I’m standing at the crossroads, believe I’m sinking down.” John Boehner is no statesman, Rand Paul is no leader, and Sharon Angle is simply clueless.  I wonder how far we are going to sink by the next election.

Sorry for the rant.  I do appreciate you stopping by.

Actually, rather than talk about the morass that Campaign 2010 has become, I prefer to talk about my grand-puppy Sophie.  Sophie was born four years ago today at Cedarwinds Kennel near Crofton, Nebraska.  Google it and click on “silky terriers” to see some of the cutest puppies around. 

My daughter had been pestering us for years to get a dog, and after my son and daughter in-law got Kahlua, another silky terrier and a diva to the utmost, we could no longer come up with good enough reasons to tell Amanda no.  Amanda and I drove the 100 or so miles to the kennel and brought Sophie home on December 23, 2006. 

It seems like she has been around forever, though part of me thinks it seems like just yesterday we held this tiny puppy for the first time.  Sophie makes quite a living off of being cute, and her soulful eyes have captured our hearts.  Basically the house is now Sophie’s and she is gracious enough to let us remain living there. 

Sophie loves to run and play, and includes “belly rub” among the words she definitely understands.  She loves her mom, her Uncle Matt, and her cousin Kahlua, and most morning chills with grandma before grandma leaves for work.  She tolerates grandpa, though less so since I quit feeding her table scraps.  Most of us she loves doggie daycare, and loudly announces her presence when she arrives: “Bark, bark, yap.  Sophie is here, let the party begin.”

Apparently Sophie is getting a new bed and some treats for her birthday.  Gee, that is better than I got for my birthday in September.  Well, she is a lot nicer.

Happy Birthday Sophie.  And thank you for stopping by.

Neither side in campaign 2010 should feel anything but shame over how out of hand political ads have become.  Though I live in Nebraska, Iowa is a mere 30 miles away, meaning Omaha TV stations provide me with a double dose of drivel.  I can’t begin to tell you how sick I am of ads mentioning “Obamacare,” and picturing Nancy Pelosi, though she is running for office in a district 1,500 miles from here.  I am tired of both sides accusing the other of “gutter politics,” though both sides are usually right.  Thank you Lord for remote controls.

I have never decided on what candidate to vote for (or against) because of a TV ad.  I would like to think there are many other people who can say the same.  Still, Karl Rove and his Billionaire Boys Club, with opening act U.S. Chamber of Commerce are spending hundreds of millions of dollars on this slock.  The Democratic Senate Campaign Committee countered the big bucks bashers with smaller donations from 68,000 people in the last week.  All so we can continue to elect candidates who refuse to work with the opposition to come up with ways to make our country a better, safer place to live.  Both parties need to plead guilty to gridlock.

Tea Party members have my utter disdain.  They are willing to give until it hurts to candidates that want to lessen their tax bill.  OK, here is what you are doing tea baggers-instead of giving tax dollars that might help house the homeless, feed the hungry, make our shore safer, or improve are now 30^th ranked health care system, you are helping TV stations make bigger profits, maybe donating more than you pay in taxes.  Utterly, ridiculously stupid.

In the past these ads would disappear until the next campaign.  Now we don’t just get ads from candidates and their supporters, we are inundated with special interest ads, more of the same old lies and half-truths.  One thing I may have in common with the Tea Party despots (what would you call Rand Paul’s supporters who physically attacked someone who opposed this radical right winger?)-is I do long for something from the past.  I long for the days when candidate’s views were discussed in newspapers not presented as 30 second sound bytes on TV, and people would engage their brains to decide who the right candidate to represent them was and what issues to support.

I am afraid of what we are becoming as a nation.

Thanks for stopping by.

I wish that every politician who uses the word “Obamacare” would get a clue.  I guess having our children turned down for coverage by insurance companies because of existing conditions is a good thing.  Maybe we can drop even further down the list of countries when it comes to health care.  We aren’t even close to being first now. The other day a Facebook friend mentioned she supported health reform, and some insane “friend” of hers came on and posted that was what Al-Qaeda terrorists wanted us to think.  Say what?  How did he discern that?  Where did he get this information?  This is the scary part of Rove’s misinformation campaign-some people choose no other source for information than such ads, and they believe them.

I am terribly frustrated and frightened about the direction our country is headed.  I feel there is nothing I can do about it. I greatly fear the politics of mistrust, and hate.  Do people have that short of a memory?  People, the party that brought is the G.W. Bush years are who you want to put back in power; the same people with tired ideas that didn’t work then and aren’t going to work now either.  Tea baggers complain about the federal government spending leading us to ruin, yet turn from reason when the fact that hundreds of millions of dollars are being spent on television ads by their so called supporters.

This is sad.

I doubt that anyone had an MRI before me this morning.  I believe hospital shifts change at 7:00 a.m. so no one would have been in earlier since an MRI takes at least 30 minutes.  Like I said, I was the first one.  So, why would it take 24-48 hours for a radiologist to read the MRI?  I asked when my doctor would receive the MRI results, and that is what I was told.  Wow. I should have been a radiologist instead of an accountant.  I should also have been a photographer instead of a writer, but that is a different story.

Of course, after the radiologist spends reads the MRI at his/her convenience, I will have to schedule an appointment with my doctor to learn the results.  If it is what I am thinking I will then have to see an orthopedist.  Getting in to see an orthopedist is almost like getting in to see President Obama.  Despite having a knee injury, if I tried getting in on my own, it would be a month before I was scheduled.  Going through my family doctor it still might take several weeks.

When I finally get in to see the orthopedist, I will be able to read a magazine from cover to cover in the waiting room.  I will then meditate in an examining room for another 30 minutes.  The doctor will come in and tell me I have a torn meniscus in my right knee.  Since I did not injure the knee, he will tell me it is degenerative, just a result of getting older.  Of course being overweight didn’t help matters, but he will be too polite to mention that. At the end of the three minutes he is with me, he will tell his assistant to schedule me for surgery.

I can count on another long wait before I have my surgery.  I know the doctor I will be seeing does surgery three days a week.  My guess is he could do 3-5 surgeries on the days he operates, but I don’t have any proof to back that up.  For easy math, say he does 10-15 surgeries a week.  I would put money down that I will have to wait a month to have my surgery.  That translates to 40-60 patients ahead of me.  My doctor is one of four orthopedists on staff at the Fremont Area Medical Center.  If they all do the same number of surgeries, there is approximately 200 orthopedic surgeries a month done at this hospital, or one of the surgery centers located near the hospital.  Multiply that times 12 months in a year, and there are 2,400 orthopedic surgeries done in Dodge County, Nebraska every 12 months.  Fremont has a population of 25,000, so all of Dodge County can’t be much more than 30,000 people.  So my figures mean that 8% of the people in Dodge County have orthopedic surgery every year.  Or, if you live in Dodge County for 12 ½ years you will have orthopedic surgery. I find that unlikely.

OR-maybe my doctor doesn’t do 3-5 surgeries three times a week, even though I would think physically he ought to be able to.  I wonder if the watch dogs that schedule surgery had knee or shoulder or elbow or wrist pain if they would want to wait a month to have the problem fixed.  I suspect not.

So goes my rant for the day.  I am afraid the results of the MRI will show something wrong, and I’ll have to have it fixed.  I am just as afraid that the MRI will show only arthritis, and I am stuck with this pain.  Yeah, I know, lose weight and that will really help.  Well, since February I have been working very hard at that, many weeks spending 5-6 hours at the Fremont Y Wellness Center.  There aren’t many cardio routines that put no stress on knees, and while I can lift weights with my arms, there is no way I would even try with my legs until my doctor said I could.

I am depressed this is screwing up the end of the racing season for me, and may mess up going to Nebraska football games with Matt-he likes to park near Wahoo, so we have a 12 mile hike from where he parks to the stadium, then we have 63 steps to climb to our seats since the Pederson Palace was built in the North Stadium. 

Right now I am not sure if I just hate radiologists, if I dislike doctor’s assistants, if I am angry about missing some races and football games, or if I am just pissed that in 24 days I am going to turn 60 years old.  Or, maybe I just like to whine and this is a pity party. Probably all of the above. Maybe I can organize other orthopedic patients to demonstrate.  We’ll wave our crutches instead of signs, and hire Twisted Sister to play “We’re Not Going to Take It Anymore” over and over.  That would probably be too expensive.  Maybe we can rent a DVD of the old movie “Network” and play the “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore” monologue a few hundred times.

Thanks for stopping by.

Actually my brothers and I shared the skate board, and it was one of the first in Fremont.  And it was definitely a “skate” board.  My dad took the wheels off someone’s unused roller skates and attached them to a piece of wood about 2’ long and 6” wide.  It wouldn’t go very fast, but you could fall off it.  I did, many times, and I did not have a helmet and did not wear any pads either.

We only rode the skate board on sidewalks around the neighborhood.  It wasn’t that we were so safety conscious that we didn’t play in the streets.  Just the opposite actually.  No, we did not ride our skate board in the streets, because all the neighborhood streets were gravel.  It was years after I moved away from home before those streets were paved.

South of the tracks in Fremont was the baddest part of town.  And if you go down there, you best beware of, well, Jim Croce records aside, when I was growing up, I was never aware of living in a bad neighborhood.  The houses on my block were no different than those found in many other parts of the city. Maybe it was because the streets weren’t paved that people gave “south of the tracks” a poor connotation.

My dad worked at the Hormel packing plant, meaning we were blue collar middle class, but we weren’t poor.  I suppose some of my friends were poor, but I wasn’t aware of them being poor either.  Many of their fathers worked at Hormel too.  My best friend’s dad worked at the post office. Like I said, I never knew people living south of the tracks were poor.  I never do it was “the bad part of town” either.  Growing up we never locked our doors.  I rode my bike to school and the only worry my mother had was that I would do something stupid on it.  And I did, more than once, but never got seriously hurt.

It wasn’t until 7^th grade in Junior High that I became aware of living in the bad part of town.  I know Junior High is a rough time for any kid, but for those of us who went to Washington Elementary School in Fremont, Junior High was not a pleasant experience.  It is difficult to explain my reaction to the taunts.  In some ways I became introverted, never feeling comfortable around crowds.  I don’t to this day. Maybe that is why I enjoy writing as much as I do.

In some areas I felt intimidated.  In other ways I felt pressure to prove I was better than what classmates were saying.  School officials were not above labeling, but I always found myself in “the smart kids classes.”  I worked hard in school, not because it was difficult, but because I wanted to outdo kids that put me down.  I became an overachiever.

To this day I am an overachiever.  If I do something, I am all in.  I don’t do something half-way.  I don’t do it at all if I am not willing to give it my all.  I became a fan of the underdog, I detest bullying, and I became tolerant of the differences in all of us, something that many of my classmates never learned. It’s funny how things that happened 45 years ago still influence me.  And it’s funny that having to swerve to about skate boarders triggered such a blog post.  Or, maybe the fact that I am depressed over turning 60 in five weeks was the spark that lit this fire.

Thanks for stopping by.

More than once I can remember working on roofs during my youth.  It didn’t matter if it was our house, our garage, or my grandmother’s house, the work was hot and it was dirty.  Removing old shingles was the fun part because it involved tossing them down from the roof, usually at an unsuspecting younger brother.  Carrying rolls of tar paper and asphalt shingles up ladders was not fun.  We did not have nail guns-each nail was pounded in by a hammer we wielded. Kneeling on hot shingles pounding nail after nail is no one’s recreation. Like I said, it was hot, it was dirty work.

Maybe that is a poignant memory of my youth, but it is certainly not one I want to relive.  The memory was revived by seeing a crew hard at work on my roof today.  Like several hundred other houses in Fremont, my house was hit by severe hail earlier this summer.  At least 10 roofing companies have spent time in Fremont this summer, some with multiple crews.  Virtually every member of every crew is Latino.

You may have heard of Fremont.  My home town is the local community version of Arizona, having just passed an immigration law in June (which will not go into effect until any and all suits filed against the city regarding this law are settled).  I voted against the measure and felt like enough members of the community were enlightened and would vote against such a measure.  Much to my anger and shame I was wrong.

Fremont has a growing Latino population.  It is home to a large Hormel & Company packing plant, as well as Fremont Beef Company, a smaller meat packing operation.  Latinos are attracted by what they see as good wages and benefits, though the jobs are dangerous and hard.  My dad worked as a ham boner for Hormel for 30 years and it took a toll on his health. 

Older people and ignorant people called the new law “the Mexican law,”  a statement that basically lumps all Latinos into the illegal immigrant classification, when 90% or more are not illegal immigrants at all (the most liberal of guesses as to Fremont’s illegal immigrant population was 200 out of over 2,000 Spanish speaking people living here).

Another statement that older and ignorant people make is “I fear my safety with all the Mexicans living in this town.” A simple reading of court dockets shows that there are as many Caucasian names going before local judges as Spanish sounding names, and the felony charges are roughly the same. 

A third statement is that “Mexicans use the hospital emergency room for treatment, and then don’t pay and it comes out of our taxes.”  Officials of the Fremont Area Medical Center say this is not true, that workers at Hormel and Fremont Beef have health insurance benefits.  A similar one is that “children of illegal immigrants are flooding our schools, and their parents pay no taxes.”  Well, if their parents live in an apartment and pay rent, someone is paying taxes on the building.  If they own a car, they are paying taxes and license fees. 

Finally and here is the point of talking about the roof on my house, Latino immigrants and not taking away jobs from “American citizens.” Caucasians do not want to work in packing plants anymore-as I said, it is a dangerous, tough job.  My dad suffered numerous aches and pains, and two serious injuries during his time at Hormel-a steam hose swept over his feet, severely burning one, and his razor sharp knife slipped off a bone and severed a tendon in his thumb, resulting in the need for transplant surgery. 

Again, Latino immigrants are not taking away jobs Caucasians find as desirable.  “American citizens” don’t want to work in a damp, cold environment with razor sharp knives and saws. Caucasians may own roofing businesses, but you don’t find many whites nailing shingles to a roof in the 90 degree heat of a Nebraska summer.  Find a job that Caucasians find undesirable and it is filled by an immigrant.  No “citizen” is losing a job.

Fremont may spend millions of dollars on lawsuits from the enactment of an illegal immigrant law which basically discriminates against all people of Latino descent.  Wouldn’t a better use of resources be to develop programming to help each culture learn more of the other and that though we are all different, we all have basic needs that are the same.  Let’s build on those similarities.

Thanks for stopping by.

Later a little girl became separated from her mother and was standing sobbing near one of the tunnels that lead to seating in the west stands of Memorial Stadium.  An older man-older by a few years than me-stopped, did his best to comfort her, and flagged down stadium security who had already started looking for the little girl.  Just a nice gesture that had nothing to do with football, and a lot to do with how Nebraskans can be.

In the middle of the first quarter it was announced that Ndamukong Suh was donating $2,000,000 to the Nebraska athletic department, and $600,000 to architecture department at UNL as an endowed scholarship-Suh graduated from UNL with a degree in construction management.  Yes, Suh is going to make millions when he is picked in the first round of the NFL draft this week, but it was amazingly classy and mature for the young man to remember that many people helped him become what he is today.

After the spring football game Matt and I took in the UNL baseball game too. It was Junior Home Run Club day at the UNL vs. Kansas baseball game, and club members got to go on Hawks Field prior to the start of the game.  As the Nebraska  line up was announced, a group of youngsters ran with each starter to his position.  They stood with the players during the national anthem, and it was fun watching 6’ tall players interact with 4-5-6 year old children.

During the baseball game I got a leg cramp which Matt thought was hilarious.  Yes, this was the same Matt who rushed to the assistance of the older gentleman who fell at the football game.  What can I say other than he has a lot of his mother in him too.

Despite the leg cramp, getting sunburned, and Nebraska losing the baseball game, I had a great day.  I see many things that bother me every day, and am appalled by the actions of all three political parties-Democrats, Republicans, and Tea-so it is a good thing to see that people still can care about people they don’t even know.

Thanks for stopping by.