Today's topic Illegal Immigration, or Illegal Aliens.  There, I am not afraid to say it.  Everyone is trying so desperately to put a prettier spin on things that are ugly.  Illegal aliens are now illegal immigrants because that is nicer.  What ever.  A lie is a lie, whether you call it a fib or white, it is still a lie.  A thief is a thief whether you steal a penny or a million dollars you are still a thief.  And if you come over the border illegally you are still an alien.  Immigrants are welcome aliens not so much. 


Either way you say it the operative word is illegal. It is not lawful to enter our country uninvited. You have to have permission. Thousands of people enter the right way. They stand in line and wait their turn. Why should anyone be able to jump the line?

The definition for alien that I find most salient regarding illegals is "relating, belonging, or owing allegiance to another country or government" (Merriam-Webster's).  The illegals do not owe us their allegiance.  They break the law by coming here.  They work under the table, send money back home, somehow get aid that should be for our citizens, and pay no taxes.  That is a sweet gig.  Oh, I can hear you.  They are just trying for a better life, even how poorly they live here is so much better than where they came from.  Really?  Is it so much better to have to hide, to be subject to those who would take advantage of someone who can't get legal help because of fear of exposure?  Is it better to have to worry about when or if someone will turn you in?  That is no better.  Everyone tries to ignore the problem of exploitation in all it's forms.  I am the Meany who wants them to suffer.  Maybe not so much.  Maybe I want them to have opportunities with out fear.
  
Now I hear, from both sides of the aisle, that it isn't fair to make the poor children drug here kicking and screaming by their parents to go back to the country to which their parents have allegiance. For some reason they shouldn't be punished for their parents bad choices.  Give me a break. They have taught them fear and don't report crimes against their children because they may be found out. 

 Children are subject to their parents whims good or bad.  And good or bad suffer consequences of their parents' decisions.  There are the idiot parents who feel that they are doing a service by making sure an adult is at the party to supervise the underage drinking.  They are the buddies.  Recently, there was a death due to one of those parents' whims.  Parents let their kids ride, what I refer to as death machines, ATVs with no helmet, no supervision and there are tragic outcomes almost every day.  Why should children of aliens have it any better?  I had to bend to my parents parenting whims.  Granted my parents weren't law breakers and teaching me to be a law breaker, but they weren't perfect.

In fact, my parents taught me to respect the law, to have a healthy fear that if I were to do things we the people deem unlawful that I could go to jail.  I choose to obey the laws so that I don't get into trouble.  I make decisions everyday to keep the laws, to do what is right.  How much respect or compassion should I have for those who flaunt the law?  I kind of resent anyone who suggest that I should have too much. That being said,  I don't want anyone to suffer, I want them to have food, clothes and shelter.  Just not off my back and without my choice.  I work hard, I have family that works hard and it isn't fair that my hard earned money goes to those who break the law.  I haven't even touched on all the laws illegals break, all the crimes that are committed from fraud, to rape and murder. We have enough of our own citizens that are cruds we don't need new ones.

I will submit that there are illegals here who want to make a better life and are willing to do whatever they have to in order to give their families that better life.  That is almost noble. They come here work hard, keep the other laws and try to be helpful. Good for them!  Now, they need only do it the right way. 

I think if people feel that their only option into our country is to be here illegally we should look at the process to get here.  Let's look at what you have to do to come to America, were the streets were once purported to have been paved with gold.  Let's look at the crooked dealings of our government programs that allow people to grease palms and come here, thus giving those who are poor and down trodden fewer choices.  Let's look at the process and change it.  There are no rules saying we can't only government officials.  You know the ones getting their palms greased. 

Today's topic, Music. I love music, it really can sooth the savage breast (William Congreve).  It can move us to love and tears, anxiety and calm.  It can move us to, well, move our bodies and our thoughts. 

I almost always have a song playing in my head.  I thought everyone did, but found out that isn't so.  I did a little research and found that having music in the head can be a sign of depression, which depressed me to find out.  However, it can mean other things too.  Some call it auditory hallucinations, some Musical Ear Syndrome.  Thank goodness the research shows that hearing music doesn't mean you aren't lucid or that you are crazy.  Did you hear that?  It doesn't make me crazy.  Yay!  I am told it can also mean you are an auditory learner, that your brain is just filling in gaps so it isn't idle. Some suggest that you can be healed/treated.  Hearing music is associated with being hard of hearing, elderly, depressed, tinnitus and lack of auditory stimulation.  There is some research and a theory that we will see more people with music in their heads related to availability of music. 

I have my own theory.  I think that music is ingrained in my feelings, thinking and emotions so I hear music because it is part of my makeup. I find music soothing, comforting, stimulating etc, but mostly I find it pleasurable.  The music that plays in my head is usually just a random song I know.  It can be related to a word, phrase or situation.  Usually, if I hear a good song in the morning I can pull it up and listen to it at intervals all day.  I sometimes get songs stuck, oh, that is frustrating.  It is hard to change the song when you have one stuck.  Once, a few years ago I had just a few bars of a song stuck in my head.  It would play over and over and over.  I couldn't remember the song just those few bars and it played and played and I was so on edge all the time because I couldn't name it and get it out of my head.  Finally, one day out of the blue (I actually may have heard it on the radio)  I realized what song it was, and the tension went away, I was able to relax. The song, Madman Across the Water, by Elton John.  The first bars of the song played over and over and over....No jokes about the title, please, but really it was driving me mad.  

I call having music in my head, my own personal ipod.  I hear music and if I get tired of one song I change it out for another.  If you think about it I also can see the theory about music being available having even more credence.  TV, movies, theater, elevators, phones etc all have sound tracks in one form or another. Is it a surprise that my brain creates it's own?

 I will say I don't like Country music.  I find it the bastard child of Gospel and Blue Grass. When I go into places that play Country I literally have to find a happy place so it doesn't rot my brain.  I have to tune it out. I tell people that there are studies showing Country music lowers your IQ.  I sometimes get takers, usually from Country music fans.  So, maybe it does lower the IQ.

When I am out in public, driving in my car I have to listen to music I find non irritating.  That can vary.  One day I may enjoy a song I have heard many times and another I may be so over hearing that song.  It depends on my mood.  When I hear music that gets on my nerves, I have to do something, change the station, request it be changed or work on tuning it out.  Music that irritates makes me I feel like I could jump out of my skin, literally. 

I am a good Christian woman and love hymns. Some of my favorites, I Need Thee Every Hour,  Be Still My Soul,  How Firm a Foundation, The Spirit of God, and Redeemer of Israel, I Stand All Amazed. There are others of course but I really like these.  I do not like Christian Rock.  I will be singing hymns or go to Hell music and that is about it.  My rock and roll is what is it is as are my hymns.  I don't need goof ball losers trying to marry the two.   

I like old music, I like new music.  I can tell I am getting old though.  I can't stand some of what the kids are listening to today.  So much of it has a hideous dance beat in the background.  YUCK.  Just sing me a song already.  No crappy beat. 

I like Classical, Big Band, and about every era in the Rock and Roll genre.  I am picky though. Some songs just don't do it for me.  There will be "monster hits" that I cannot stand and ones that never get much play that I love.  Electric Avenue, by Eddie Grant, hate it.  Romeo's Tune, by Steve Forbert, love it.

So, to recap, I am not crazy, I love music and it is normal and OK to hear music in my head.  Oh, and I am not crazy.  I hope that I am not the only one with music in my head all the time.  It can make for a more pleasant and peaceful life.

Today's Topic Stupid things I have done.  OK, get ready, brace yourselves, deep breath, I am not perfect.  There, I said it.  I feel lighter and yet somehow exposed.  You now know my deepest, darkest secret.  I am imperfect.  It is getting easier.  Wow!  I AM NOT PERFECT....

So, I did something really dumb today.  Just like a news paper I will make you wait to find out.   You know like continued on page 8 or some such.  Anyway, it made me think of other dumb things I have done.  The ones I can remember anyway. 

 When I was 5 or 6 I thought it would be a good idea to tie rope to the handle bars of my bike and use the rope to steer.  Some of you may have an idea of how this played out.  I will tell you anyway.  I tried to use the rope to steer and it wasn't as easy in actuality as it was in my mind.  The handle bars were completely unmanageable.  I couldn't steer but, bless me, I kept trying.  Right up until the wildly moving handle bar slammed into my side.  I wound up with one of the biggest bruises I have ever had in my whole life. Ever.  I tried my best to hide it from my mom, I can't remember if I was completely successful.  You should know I take care of children who do stupid things all the time.  I could have injured my spleen, my liver, my intestines etc.  I remember how much it hurt to have the handle bar hit me so hard.  It hurt for a long time and I kind of limped around trying to get over the pain.  Oh, it wasn't fun at all.  I have never tried to use rope to steer a bike again.

When I was 8 or 9 I broke several house rules.  One, outside when my parents were gone. Two, I was outside after dark. Three, I was riding someone else's bike.  I rode someone else's bike really fast, down hill, in the dark, standing on the pedals.  I don't remember the fall completely.  I remember the sensation of flying through the air and then picking myself up off the road. I had landed on my face.   I had blood streaming out of my mouth.  I ran into the house, to the bathroom and kept rinsing my mouth over and over.  I could see my tooth was half gone and for some reason thought if I kept rinsing I would somehow see my tooth back.  No, never.  I got a lot of stitches, and a fake tooth. We lied to our parents who were really nice when they took me to the ED.  Even after they found out what really happened they didn't give me grief.   

When I was a teenager 13 or 14 I used to ride around in our family van while my sister drove.  That may not sound like a stupid thing.  Try adding I did it with the sliding door open, standing with arms and legs spread to either side holding on.  I wish I could say for dear life but I don't think I was that smart.  Obviously, I didn't fall out since I am not dead or permanently disabled.  You can argue whether I suffered brain damage, but the damage would be before doing something so stupid.  Maybe it was a result of landing on my face. 

Luckily, as I grew older my stupidity lessened, slightly.  When I was around 17 we drove from Idaho to North Carolina.  This was before some of the nicer highways we have now.  My dad mapped it out and I took turns driving with a family friend.  I had never driven for more than an hour or so at a stretch.  So, there I was driving across the country. (By the way, there really wasn't much to see in Kansas, or maybe it was Nebraska, either way to entertain ourselves we counted dead animals on the road.  That was all there was to do.)   Anyway, back to the road, I would get so tired after a couple of hours.  I just wanted to fall asleep at the wheel, which is bad.  So, the family friend, who is a very nice person, offered me Nodoz. I took it thinking it would help me stay awake.  It did.  We just happened to have car trouble right after I took it.  So, there I was at a gas station in some far off state, hyped up on Nodoz.  I could have leapt tall buildings in a single bound.  I ran, jumped, skipped all over the place.  And then right when I was crashing down after the caffeine buzz, the car was fixed and it was still my turn to drive.  Way fun! 

 Around 23 or 24 I went to the beach with friends.  Carolina beach to be exact and had a blast.  However, looking back it wasn't the best way to have fun.  The waves were strong, I mean Strong.  They were crashing down so hard that if you were standing about waist deep the wave would lift you and flip you head over heels with no real effort on your part.  The reason that wasn't the best fun is because my whole life my mom has stressed water safety.  As a child, mom my would call my sister and I out of the water at regular intervals so we couldn't over tire.  She has quite a few they were too tired to get back in and drowned stories.  I am also aware of water safety because of her, no swimming alone, take breaks etc.  The undertow at the beach can be so deceiving, you don't really know it is there until you are struggling against it.  However, I have to admit, I still remember that day with fondness. 

Over the years I have done many other stupid things.  But I have kept you waiting long enough.  I got the oil in my car changed this morning, then I went to get a pedicure (my feet work hard for me), then I needed to run to the Wal-mart.  At the Wal-mart I got out of my car and it made high pitched buzz at me, the doors wouldn't lock, the remotes wouldn't work, the car wouldn't restart. My car has a push button starter, no key, foot on the brake and push the button, simple.  I trouble shot, I tried the remotes, I just happened to have both, I did everything I could think of to get the car to work and nothing.  First, I called my brother, who used to sell Toyotas.  He was kind and helpful, but was thinking the only way to make the car start working would be to unhook and rehook the battery.  I called the dealership, all the while thinking what did they do wrong with my oil change that my car won't work now.  I didn't accuse them of anything just went through my story, the gentleman on the phone was very kind, very helpful.  He figured out what was wrong quickly, I had forgotten to put the car in park.  The car won't start, the doors won't lock and it makes a "hey, dummy, you didn't do it right" sound when you forget.  That is right, I forgot to put the car in park.  Before I called I took around 10 minutes or more to try and figure things out.  I really tried people, honest.  But, I stupid.

Today's topic Family.  I love my family.  We ain't right, as we say in the South.  Meaning for those of you who aren't in the South, that we are a little off, strange, weird etc.  But as my brother once told the father of a girl he was dating, when asked if our whole family was weird,  "Yes, but, we are good weird.".  That about sums us up.  

We are loud.  I try when I am around other people to temper my loudness, not always successfully.  I tell people that I am from a family of ten children and I am not always aware of how loud I am.  Sometimes my being loud can be helpful.  Just recently my niece ran into the parking lot of a busy store.  I was loud and got her attention.  She stopped on the spot and I was able to get her to safety.  I was also able to help the man that heard me and had a heart attack.  It was small, he's fine.  I felt bad for being so loud, I sent flowers.  But, my niece is safe and that is the main point.

We are passionate.  People think we are angry when we aren't.  We are just passionate, no one is mad, we are just exuberant over what ever topic we are discussing.  I remember my brother and I were having a passionate discussion about something, I don't remember what, and someone came over and asked us why we were fighting.  We looked at each other, stunned, and said almost in unison, "We're not fighting".   We were just having a passionate conversation.  Being passionate gets me into trouble.  I don't feel upset or angry on some topics, but maybe to explain to me what passionate means, revved up.  I don't want to fight or cause contention but I get revved.  When I get revved some people get nervous, like I will somehow attack them.  Not going to happen.  Being passionate also means I am a lover not a fighter.

We are smart.  I am not saying we are all going around solving the worlds problems or debating the Universe with Steven Hawking, I am just saying we ain't dumb.  Because we are smart and passionate we like to be in charge.  You might think this would cause a lot of fights amongst us all.  I won't lie, we fight sometimes.  However, we have kind of picked our sister Ginna to be the family organizer, the CEO if you will.  She does a good job of telling us what to do.  We just take our assignments and go.  It is because she excels at organization that we let her be in charge so much.  See, we ain't dumb.  If she were not good at organizing we would revolt and elect a new leader. 

We are curious.  We like to know things, how things work, why things are the way they are etc.  Which can lead to trouble.  If in our curiosity we find things are stupid, it bothers us.  Most people don't like their pet projects shot down because they don't make sense which ever one of us is asking intelligent (hopefully) questions about the what and how of something.   However, it can be helpful too, we like to read or watch things just to learn for pleasure.  A lot of people do that but a lot of people don't.   We are just some of the ones that do and we tend to remember and apply things we have learned and maybe help someone make their pet project better.  That is the dream any way.  Better to have the dream than the drama which with my passionate family could be a reality too.  

We are loyal.  We tend to stick with our friends, we aren't perfect but you can count on us to get your back.  I once had a friend that I supported.  It was a long time ago, and so school age, elementary school age no less.  She was also friends with another girl and they had a falling out.  I don't even remember over what.  But, they were going to fight.  Our whole grade was aware and picked sides.  Here is how the sides wound up me and girl A, against girl B and the rest of the grade.  I won't lie I think it crossed mind that the odds were way against us and maybe I didn't need to participate or support anyone.  In the end I felt that I had to stand by, I couldn't let certain loss or fear make my decision for me.  I stood by her.  And do you want to know what, it wound up being more hype, more drama than confrontation.  They had a fight, not much of one, some hair pulling etc and the police showed up and that was the end.  I watched as they were both put into the same police cruiser.  I never asked but am willing to bet that being taken away in handcuffs made them friends again if only for the car ride. 

We are what we are which is a family.  We don't make excuses for being what we are, we just are. So here's to being a little weird.  We ain't perfect, but we are have a certain something that keeps us going and hopefully fills the empty spaces around us with more joy than pain.