Editors Are Fine

I am sitting here, listening to massively large raindrops pelt my roof while the sky over the lake remains blue, confident that words will come. They always do -- I am never without words for long.

I just sold an article to the online magazine "Clever" because the editor saw potential in the article I originally submitted, and suggested to redirect my focus. She liked the result. I like the fact that an editor will take the time to encourage and suggest.

So thank you, Dianne.

Can't be gloom and doom all the time. Once in awhile you just have to smile.

Wisdom with Age?

They say age brings cynicism. I say it brings retrospect, but hope doesn't exactly disappear just because you become disappointed in our lack of progress. After all, after all we have seen, we still buy on credit, eat fatty and sugar-loaded foods, support war, and ignore climate change. But not all of us. And the numbers keep growing among the, dare I say, opposition.

There is a book that says old is fifteen years older than you are right now. That means age, like hope, is a relative thing, and depends on your own heart, your own approach. You choose. You can choose misery or happiness, regardless of what the world outside is up to on any given day. You do not have to bury your head in the sand to remain hopeful. You can see hope being smothered and still believe in it. Stay curious, have fun, and dream.

Liberals In Montana

There are liberals in Montana, although they're quiet. Is it because of that liberal thought pattern that says, "Hey, I could be wrong," among so many who are convinced they can't be? Or am I wrong about that?

Could it be that we are embarassed because the liberal agenda is so all over the place that there really isn't one? Or is it that the Democrats and the President have taken to believe that appeasement is a good thing -- and call it compromise?

Truth be told, I know many concervatives who these days are shaking their heads, too. Quietly.

Bring Back Hope

From several directions lately, I have been hearing the same thing being said: hope is gone. In America, at least, hope is gone. Americans don't dream anymore. We can look around at the reality out there and see two glaring things: most of us look to satisfy our needs and more so our wants on a daily basis even if we have to mortgage ourselves -- and our kids -- to the sky; and, two, as a result, for the first time since people have been keeping track, our children are going to have it WORSE off than we did. Wouldn't it be good to downsize our expectations and upgrade our aspirations?

As Niel Degrasse Dyson commented on Bill Maher on August 12, for our economy to recover, for the United States to regain some promise in the world, for us to create JOBS, don't we have to MAKE something? What do we make now? We consume, we expect, we indenture our future. We have lost our standing in the world, and our footing to climb back up.

So. What do we do? What do we MAKE? Dyson mentioned how hopeful he always felt as a youth, growing up in the 60's. There was constant talk of tomorrow -- the city of tomorrow, the space race and where it would lead, even the imaginary exploration that captured us for nyears, Star Trek. It was all there. It was all killed (my own suspicion is that hope died with the everlasting involvement in Vietnam), The odd thing is that the future is still out there, and if America does not lead the way someone else will. So instead of bickering among ourselves over our small group private interests, maybe we should look for some united front on which we can all -- dare I say it -- pin our hopes,

Back in the Groove

It's been a while. The chance to sit at the keyboard for any length of time has been hard to come by, moving into our new digs up here in the Big Sky Country. I also have been neglecting my writing, but for good reasons. Hopefully, I'm back now. More hopefully, someone will notice.

The world continues, and I continue to watch it. The word is out that blogs and tweets are becoming the opportunity for people with opinions to express them, no matter how vile their terminology or outrageous their thoughts. Ah, freedom of speech in the instant electronic age means we get that much more chaff to sift through to get to the grain. I want to be part of the grain, not the chaff.

Still, no one seems to notice. I feel like I am screaming in the dark in the middle of a forest. Hey, that's exactly what I am doing. Yet the thoughts are there, and the facts are there, and sometimes the solutions seem so obvious. But nobody is listening, and why should they? I'm just a retired mailman with a bachelor's degree in history who likes to read and write. Nobody needs my advice.

And yet . . .

Here are a few observations and ideas gathered up since Congress decided to hold the economy hostage for a better photo op.

My idea of a stimulus package: two cups of coffee before breakfast.

Seriously, if we wanted to jump start the economy, instead of bailing out big business and hoping they will get back to hiring people, I would give every taxpayer in America $100,000 cash, tax free, and watch them spend it. If they pay off their debts, that helps the banks. If they rush out and buy houses and cars and whatnot, that helps recreate demand, ergo, jobs. The last stimulus was a bust.

My idea of Utopia -- doctors make house calls and Congressmen ride along, or, better still, all politicians get out of that bubble they're in and spend time in the real world where the rest of us live. Better still, flush the politicians out of the system. Elect housewives, accountants, historians and scientists instead -- we'd have purpose, balance, perspective and more than one eye on the future.

Now, what would you do with one hundred grand? What does your congressman do with his?