Fathering – Page 4 – They call me Betty

The Rooster has crowed

June 20, 2013June 27, 2013 theycallmebettyLeave a comment

0600- Last night during orientation someone in our group asked Sarah if an alarm clock was needed to wake up on time this morning, to which Sarah replied with a sly southern smile; just listen for the rooster! Well 4:45 am Mr. Rooster took to crowing and let me tell you that is one cock who knows his job! Our group slowly gathered downstairs for breakfast bleary eyed and not so bushy tailed, yet spirits remain high as the thought of coming closer to our final destination loomed near. A quick breakfast of bananas, toast and Haitian coffee helped to upright our balance, preparing us for a two hour car ride then four hour boat ride over to the island of La Gonave. On a personal note, Haitian coffee is the best damn coffee on the face of the planet! Starbucks, PEETS, and all you other half cracked coffee hacks can bow down and kiss the Haitians bums because your roasted beans are no match for the superior flavor of Haitian coffee! MMMMMMmmm sipping some right now…. Oh yeah where was I? Our main interpreter Richard arrived and was introduced to the team. I don’t have a read on him yet, he appears friendly enough but to be honest he comes off as a bit curt and rigid. I am sure that comes with meeting 10 people you don’t know but will soon be living and working with for a week. I hope he adapts quickly because with our groups dynamic personalities we are not for the rigid!

The team loaded up, waved goodbye to our hosts, and headed out (once again through the UNLOCKED, UNGAURDED gate of the guest house-so promising). Moving through the streets I tried several times to strike up conversation with our driver, he was very friendly but his English was lacking, or should I say my Creole sucked. Always one for good humorous conversation it seemed as though this trip would hold no such luck, although somewhere mid trip our driver did locate a radio station playing Haitian/English Rap and let’s just say some of the music’s lyrics involved various parts of the female anatomy being used in various ways that well, just created a serious run of the giggles for those who could hear it!
Honking, braking hard, weaving in and out of traffic, it became clear that some things in Haiti would never change. The Haitian driving style is terrifying to most foreigners, it was terrifying to me the very first time I rode through the streets of Haiti. But who am I to judge, it works for them. In America we use the horn to say: Hey asshole get out of my way, or you idiot, you almost hit me! Or Hey buddy I am telling you I think you are number one! Look over here, look over here at my waving “number one” symbol!!!! In Haiti they use the horn to say; hey buddy I need to come around! Then the driver in front will honk his horn in return as a symbol he understands and you may pass. It’s an interesting system devised of horn honking with a series of hand signals combining rapid acceleration and flat to the floor speed. It’s like NASCAR with horns and vans and Tap-Taps and Mack trucks and Water trucks and oxen with carts and-oh well you get the point!

In the town of Carrefour we were to pick up our second interpreter Caz. Now Caz was an interpreter on Jacy’s first mission and through sheer luck became the interpreter on my first mission. Caz feels like family, he is warm and caring, has the tact of a politician in touchy situations with the caring hand of a pastor. He loves his country, and believes in the resilience of the Haitian people to stand up and overcome all forms of adversity. When I left him last year within minutes I was missing my new found friend. I have kept in contact with Caz over the year and my heart is pounding at the thought of reconnecting with this dear man. In the distance we see the truck holding our supplies parked on the side of the road, pulling up we also see the driver has in fact picked up Caz. We roll by slowly and everyone waves, Caz is on the phone and gives a gentle wave out the window that is until he sees my child like pie eyed face beaming back at him! He jumps forward and waves excitedly as he realizes who is waving! Little does he know there are two more of his old friends wedged in the back anxiously waiting to give him a giant hug as well!
Continuing along the western coastline from Port au Prince, signs of recovery are everywhere! Sidewalks cleared, repaired and clean with residents sweeping them as we pass by. Traffic, short of the normal craziness that is driving in Haiti is moving unimpeded. For those of us returning to this area once again it is a sight to behold. There are parts of this island that astound you with the level of destruction still remaining. There are other areas teaming with recovery efforts, and there are parts of this country that leave you feeling as though the recovery process is almost complete with gleaming buildings, painted or reworked walls and fencing along with courtyards brimming with banana plants and foliage! As we climbed into the mountains my breath was taken away by the sheer beauty surrounding this magnificent place! Plantations built into the mountain sides, lush green rolling hills and corn growing on any free space available. Rolling over our last hill before the drop into Petit-Goave, our final destination, I am wishing I had seen this place before the earthquake to know what it looked like prior. One can have a sense but unless you have lived in that time frame you will never truly know and I wanted to know. Pulling down a small narrow cobblestone street we stop next to a courtyard and are directed to get out for we’d arrived! Jumping out of the van Caz and I take one look at each other and start laughing as we give each other a great big hug! Quickly he spies Jacy and Heather making the reunion complete! He is overflowing with joy at the sight of our smiling faces as we are overjoyed at the sight of his as well! We all soon find ourselves unloading luggage from the truck, then shuttling it through a courtyard to a small slab of concrete and dirt where a small skiff is waiting to take us out to the larger boat. Once our luggage is loaded the skiff maneuvers carefully off shore where our sailboat awaits its arrival. Yep I said it, SAILBOAT! Wind driven voyager of the seas, a trusted form of transportation since the dawn of time! From the first moment some knuckle dragger looked into a hollow stump, threw the stump into the water and thought; ugh I float in that, it take me far! Wait! If me put up large palm leaf, me harness wind and go farther! Yep the trusty old (an in this case I mean really old) sail boat! Capt. Jack Sparrow himself walking the port side couldn’t have made this day any better!
While our luggage is being hauled off to the boat Jacy and I meet with Pastor Jackie. Pastor Jackie runs this region for the Methodist church and is our point man for this portion of the journey. He is in his thirties, good looking and very likeable. We know from our briefing that he holds much respect in the community of Source a Philipe and is considered the future of the church. We move into a back room of the church alongside the courtyard where our crew currently waits to load into the skiff for a ride to the boat. Once inside we start to discuss expenses, there is $600 for the boat ride to and from the mainland. There is also a $50 a night fee per person for staying on the island. Then there is the associated costs of extra interpreters and such. Some of the costs are confusing to me due to various rates and needs. But we settle up and on the way out I feel even more confused by the whole process. Little did I know that confusion would grow stronger as the week wore on? Pastor Jackie stayed to see us off, letting us know he would be at the island on Monday to check in on our progress.
After a few more short journeys in the skiff shuttling people the last person climbs aboard, our crew pulls anchor and we set sail to the north for what turned out to be one of the most beautifully serene and calm boat rides I have ever experienced. The water is a color blue that not even I could explain and do it justice. The sky has billowing Caribbean clouds floating lazily overhead and the breeze is warm and damp. I am in heaven. The boat rocks gently back and forth, up and down and every now then a little water would splash up and get my dangling legs. A few of our members needed to crawl out of the sun and a few more unfortunately were dealing with motion sickness. But I was laid back, legs hanging like bait over the sides, hat over my face half sleeping, half hoping this day would never end. My wife is in her element as well. Sun hat on, sunscreen slathered, that inviting, warm smile of hers lighting up the deck as she spoke of Haiti and how much she loved this county. She ended up in a conversation with one of our interpreters Richard. Richard told a story of his mother passing away, living with missionaries, being educated in the finest schools only to have no money to go to college. Watching painfully as his friends went off and became doctors and engineers while he stayed home and drove a Tap-Tap (multi-person taxi). It was humiliating! To make matters worse his family and friends all made fun of him for not being able to figure out how to get himself through college. He has since gone to college and he holds two Visa’s allowing him to travel in and out of the United States. He tells of others who have obtained the very same visa’s only to never return to their home country of Haiti. Richard states every time he goes he feels the need to come home, for you see no matter how educated he becomes he only sees his people, the people he cares for and wishes to help. The people of his home country, the people of Haiti. I am starting to like him.
After 4 or so hours of sailing across a magnificent sea in calm weather with nothing more than some heat stroke and nausea we slip over a reef into 4 feet of crystal clear water to arrive at the small fishing village of Source a Philipe. Once the anchors set another small skiff emerges from the shoreline to start an arduous journey of bringing us to shore then gather all of our baggage. My initial perception of this place is that of amazement! Source a Philipe should be on the cover of a vacation magazine! Yes the beach is littered with run down shacks, and the streets are not really streets anymore but run down pathways filled with cobblestone. But it doesn’t matter, it has beauty in its own strange way. There is garbage lining the sand and even more as you walk around, normal for this culture, shocking to us clean freaks and easily fixable with about a weeks’ worth of work. We are greeted by many townsfolk upon our arrival. As introductions are given we meet François. (duh da dunnnnn- villain music inserted here) François introduces himself as an associate pastor and the general contact for all things involving the community. If we need something we are to ask him for it, if payment to anyone needs made it goes through François, the self-described “Liaison” was there for our group at anywhere, anytime. François wanted nothing more than our happiness during this stay in Source a Philipe. Now don’t get me wrong, it all seemed friendly enough at the time, but Jacy and I both looked at each other and after 11 years of marriage no words needed to be exchanged. Something didn’t feel right. François walked us up the hill towards a guest house where our belongings were to be delivered by the local youth. Standing on the steps the clinic is quickly spotted a few yards away and a few of us wander over, curious about what lay behind its walls. Francois follows opening the doors where we quickly discover three empty rooms, with the exception of one reclining chair and a couple of benches this is going to take a bit of creativity. Our sleeves quickly become rolled up and as medical baggage arrives within a matter of a few hours we have transformed these three empty rooms into a room for dentistry, a room for education and a room for minor medical issues. We have added two more rocking chairs for patients, and a few more tables for supplies. It’s not perfect, but it will do! During this time we also meet up with a band of college students from the Wesley Foundation who have been living on the island for the last month! They have fixed a cistern, some water lines and built a cinder block latrine! They are young and in good spirits, they seem to be a fairly tight knit group and are very happy to see us.
After setting up the clinic and meeting our new friends we all gather again (new friends too) and decide it is time for a swim. The boats captain- (Captain Jackson) offers to take us out off shore near the reef where you can stand in four foot of water, gathering starfish and sea cucumbers (also fondly known as “Kaka nan lanme a” or poop in the sea- a joke we will further discuss later) . We all make our way down the newly built dock and into our trusty skiff, laughing and joking with our new found friends. Three hundred or so yards out he stops the boat and lets us know we can now get in the water! First person off is always the hardest as you upset the balance of a little skiff so when Doc rolled out into the water all heck broke loose as the skiff rocked hard from side to side! All of us laughed and joked like school children as one by one we plopped our tired, sweaty bodies into the ocean. It was fantastic! We swam as a group, we laughed as a group and we played as a group. The water was perfect and so was the swim. The water is like swimming pool water, so crystal clear you can see to the bottom and the temperature is perfect! Ally came up with starfish and sea urchins, Orson found plenty of Kaka nan lanme a, to which we all chuckled! How could an animal of the sea look so much like a giant poop? Oh well questions that will never be answered.
After our swim while walking back from the beach we strike up conversation with a few from the other group and one in particular “Ally” seems to have the low down on the village! (sounds like a future alliance) Everywhere she goes children can be heard screaming her name; AAAALLLLLEEEEYYYYYYY!!!!! It’s hysterical! Reminds me of another mission trip where all you could hear through the village was children screaming MMMMAAAAAAGGGGGIIIIEEEE! (Maggie) Another young woman who had her finger on the pulse of a village through the children. Alley walks us around, giving us the grand tour explaining where everything is at, who is who and what is what. You can tell her time here has been very fulfilling as she speaks with kindness, love and generosity about these people. She breaks away after a while telling us she will meet up with us later and off she heads into the groups accommodations. It is nice knowing there is another group here to lean upon.
We finished the day off with showers and another wonderful Haitian dinner. François came back around and through conversation I met our third interpreter “Ronald”. Ronald would be provided for us by the Haitian Methodist Church. We had not planned on a third interpreter but Ronald was very nice and quickly adapted to our group. Francois informed us of a 9am church service that we had already planned on attending. François thought it would be nice if one of us could speak as there was no pastor amongst us. My wife offers to speak, thank goodness because if anyone can pull it off she can! She continues to amaze me at every turn. Not because I ever think she “can’t” do something, but because over the almost 11 years we have been married she does any task better and better every time with grace and charm.

The women’s dorm is located inside the main guest house and the men’s is located on the other side of the Wesley Foundations (college kids) house. An interpreter is housed in each and we both had hired security. We all gathered and chatted for a while but one by one the day seemed to wear on everyone and we all sort of drifted off to our respective place. Saying goodnight to my wife, she was working very hard on her presentation for church the following morning. I read what she had prepared, it was powerful, to the point and moving.
Heather, Alisa and Mellissa were bunked up in one room, Kristina, Gail and Jacy were in the other. It was girls’ summer camp at its finest! (Let your imagination go wild). Orson, Preston, Brent and I said our final goodnights and wandered off to our little corner of the world. Orson and Preston in one room, Brent and myself in another. I felt kind of special being roomed with the international man of mystery. It turned out to be one of my better decisions during the trip as evening conversations with this man were fantastic. I will always remember the time spent with our own Brent Watney.
Clinic set up, accommodations taken care of, dinner devoured, showers finished, goodnights all the way around, now for a little me time. Head phones on, sweat running off my legs, bugs swirling around my face and some Miles Davis. Just what the doctor ordered.
Tomorrow is a new day and only God knows what’s in store for this team and I trust he has given us a task that we can handle.

(Please dear readers be patient as Betty is trying her very best to tell this story, I am trying hard to paint a picture from my perspective and it is taking quite a bit of rewrite from my notes. I am terribly afraid I am missing key parts, hopefully as I continue through my emotions the story will come easier and quicker)

Children its storytime…..

June 17, 2013June 17, 2013 theycallmebetty2 Comments

This story like many others, is filled with a cast of hopefully interesting characters. A story containing intrigue, mystery, villains, heroines and of course the village people. No not the 70’s disco band! The people of a very proud little village helping bring this story together so that you the reader may understand this particular villages plight. Now before you get excited and start rubbing your hands together proclaiming; hurray Betty is going to tell another great story! Well my children, it will be a great story but let me warn you right from the go, this story is a tad bit sad. Now I am sorry for that, but it was not of my making. It is a story of truth told through me, by me, and also consists of witness accounts, recollections, and facts. Personally holding the hands of desperate people who want nothing more than the ability to awaken and see the sun shine another day! People who need to know there is a future for themselves and their children. Living with these people, working alongside this wonderful cast of characters and being given the ability to tell this story to you, my readers became an almost overwhelming responsibility. But God has provided the means to purchase a laptop and I ten fingers to type with and for that I am thankful.

Where to start? Hmmmm, I guess from the beginning?

Mission work is not for everyone. When I went forward on my first mission at the ripe old age of 45 it was an enormous step in my growth as a human being. It took me a month after returning to realize the impact that trip made upon my life, but an impact it did make, for you see I never wanted to go, I felt mission work was for the liberal, we must take care of all, granola eating, bunny huggers of the world. Not the gun-toting, you want it you earn it, it’s all about the money, capitalist that I was and to a small extent still am. My wife (god bless her resilience) hounded me to go after returning from her own mission trip to Haiti. Citing personal growth, perspective and a regeneration of feelings towards humanity as a whole, she told a wonderful tale and I was interested for I felt an empty void in my life.

Our dear friend John G. leaned on me a bit as well for you see he was going to be the co-leader on this latest expedition and felt my presence would be an asset to this particular team. Finally after much prayer, and some introspection, it became very clear that I needed to go. I was empty inside and was looking for something, anything that might explain this empty feeling. It turned out to be an amazing trip, with a group of wonderful human beings who will forever be bonded to my soul. After arriving back home it quickly became apparent my life had been changed forever, my position in regards to our self-indulgent society reversed and empathy for those in need doubled. I felt as though I had been reborn. The emptiness gone.

The downside to all of this personal growth; my temper became much shorter in regards to the needs of us selfish Americans. I look at our lifestyle with a bit of disdain and my opinion about the current generation of sniveling whiny adults is negative at best.

After returning from that first mission trip there was a great feeling of accomplishment, a joyous moment where the human race in my world could work as one for a common goal and I felt as though I had seen, looked straight into the eye of what true survival during adversity was and had ultimately become for human beings in an impoverished country. From my perspective it felt as though recovery was on its way and having been just a small part of that was amazing. When I flew off the island of Haiti there was hope for her people, hope in a new regime, hope in personal recovery for individuals, hope for a growing economy and hope for a country to recover and put behind it a tragedy that changed the face of a nation.

I was right and wrong all in the same breath.

Like I said; Mission work is not for everyone and I almost didn’t make this 2013 trip. I signed on then off more than a half a dozen times. My flip-flopping was worse than a cornered senator trying to save a failing career! I had come full circle and was back to a selfish American way of thinking! My only care was in regards for our children, house, animals and belongings, it wasn’t about doing my part as a human being, or using many skills God had blessed me with for the betterment of others. No it was all about my little world. My little bubble and how this would affect me! Right here, right now! Finally my wife who signed on as team leader this time, explained to me the importance of having me alongside her while making this journey. Very humbly and quietly I conceded, tickets were purchased, our children were informed of our dual departure and my destiny was before me waiting to be written.

Today June 15, 2013 I am writing this on an American Airlines flight heading back to Miami. My heart and mind are filled with emotions that over the next couple of weeks I will try my hardest to explain through word. This was a much more difficult journey both physically and emotionally than last year so please be patient as my writing may ramble. My hope being when it is done I have taken you someplace you have never been. Allowing your mind to visualize things you would never see but always wanted too or could never see out of fear or reluctance. Sometimes we see more when our eyes are closed then when they are open staring right at a moment in time. Hopefully with a little luck when it is all over and you close the last chapter of this story, you feel what we felt and that moves you.

Please enjoy, and please ask any questions that may come to mind. The best question at any given moment is one that is asked.

Our mission

Simply put, arrive in a small fishing village on the North West corner of the island La Gonave to provide dental care to its inhabitants.

Gonave Island (French: lle de la Gonave) is an island of Haiti located to the west-northwest of Port au Prince in the Gulf of Gonave. It is the largest of the Hispaniola satellite islands, situated off the mainland. The island is an arrondissement in the Quest Department and includes the communes of Anse-a-Galets and Pointe-a-Raguette. Gonave Island boasts a population of 75-80,000 inhabitants. The island is known as the “forgotten Island” as attention to its inhabitants dwindled directly after the January 12, 2010 earthquake.

The North West corner of the island holds a small community known as Source a Philippe.

This small community holds a few hundred residents who survive through trade. Main trades include charcoal, fishing (fish, crabs, lobster), and home crafts for tourism at the larger markets on the other side of the island. There is one fully operating vehicle within the community, there is no running water or electricity. A large cistern for rain water containment was developed by the United Methodist Church and is in operation. A well is located 2 kilometers from the village and as of this writing is not functional. There is an operating school-house within the United Methodist Church compound area and a few new outhouses were just completed by a team from the Wesley Foundation after a 30 day mission on the island. There is a 3000 watt Honda commercial generator which can power through the use of extension cords only a limited number of buildings during the evening hours. The United Methodist Church compound also holds three guest houses and a medical building, all of which appear to have been built-in the 1950’s. The medical building is empty and has a room dedicated for a pharmacy. Limited pharmaceutical supplies are stored there for emergencies and no regular health care is present.

The task placed before us was simple. Arrive on a Saturday, meet the locals, set up shop and provide free dental care for the residents of this poverty-stricken area starting Sunday afternoon after church. Continue to provide dental care Monday through Thursday as word would spread across the island brining inhabitants from as far as five hours away.

Our team: Dixon Smiles for Haiti was composed of ten highly motivated individuals

Kristina-Dentist

Gail-Assistant

Mellissa-Assistant

James-EMT/Firefighter

Jacy-School Teacher

Heather-School Teacher

Bent-Retired

Orson-Waste water Management

Alisa- Child care provider

Preston-College student

All of us joined together through God providing a service to those in need. All of us holding skill sets that would become important on this mission along with a can do attitude that would bring a triumphant end to a very long hard week. Our group spent months fundraising and putting together supplies needed for our journey. Kristina spent endless hours working the phones with her crew obtaining every instrument needed to cover any possible contingency. When we left for Haiti on June 6^th 2013 our team carried with us over $25,000.00 dollars in supplies. When it was all said and done we pulled 540 teeth, for a total of $127,000.00 dollars in dental care. Our clinic was also overrun with medical issues and the team stepped up providing many hours of treatment, from simple cuts and ear infections to severe lacerations, staph infections and full term pregnancy health.

We left tired, mentally exhausted and a little disoriented.

Here is our story…..

(over the next couple of weeks I will do my best to add a new chapter everyday)

Fear

May 29, 2013December 7, 2013 theycallmebetty2 Comments

What is fear?

Fear is an emotion induced by a perceived threat which causes entities to quickly pull far away from it and usually hide. It is a basic survival mechanism occurring in response to a specific stimulus, such as pain or the threat of danger. In short, fear is the ability to recognize danger leading to an urge to confront it or flee from it (also known as the fight-or-flight response) but in extreme cases of fear (horror and terror) a freeze or paralysis response is possible….. Nice definition.

But why are we “fearful”?

Some say it is the perceived danger that awaits us in the future and yet when true danger becomes a part of the present we still handle that very same danger with no more fear than that of which we wasted endless emotion in the beginning. Should we waste precious moments of our lives fearful of what may or may not ever transpire? Allowing our minds to twist and distort unwanted images keeping us locked in fear for eternity? This thought process seems destined for depression?

Fear of success keeps us from succeeding, while the fear of failure leaves us tied to an individual’s perception of what success may become. A man can fear being hurt and still perform to the best of his abilities while another may fear being hurt only to huddle and hide never finding his true maximum potential.

The fear of the unknown, of being alone, the fear of repercussion, the fear of rejection, the fear of love or being loved, the fear of being hated, unaccepted, rejected by a group, a pod, a few, many, the whole. The fear of death or dying.

Fear freezes your ability to move, think react, while still driving, pushing you through the most unimaginable. Fear can leave you acting out in anger or laughing nervously while immersed in distrust of those around you.

Is fear comprised of nothing more than a series of actions provoked through uncertainty and despair? Should we become friends with our fears, embracing our fears as one within ourselves or leave them as unattached, emotionless moments. If I choose to become friends with my fears will I understand them better? May I distance myself from the future and live in only the present thusly conquering the here and now?

I feel as though a majority of the last 20 years my soul has thrived upon fear, the notion of being fearful, and all emotion associated with fear. My fearful mind tires from the endless onslaught of what ifs, and fearful disasters that never happen. My mind weakens a little more everyday from trying to become acknowledged or accepted out of fear of rejection. Fear of failure has kept my mind cluttered, cloudy and weighted with negatives for far too long.

I believe fear is what we make of it and if we make it out to be nothing than what is fear?

Strike three! You are outta here! Or should be?

May 7, 2013 theycallmebetty2 Comments

Well my darlings, I must apologize for being absent for the last three weeks. Between work, little league baseball, 4-H, the ranch and life in general there has been little time for me to pony up to a computer and write (no I still have not moved into the modern age and purchased a laptop or tablet).

So whats bothering Betty tonight? What has ruffled Betty’s skirt and driven her to break the silence of the last three weeks? Unfortunately its baseball.

I say unfortunately because I believe baseball to be the last bastions of pure sporting left to behold. Baseball has and always will captivate me, leave me bewildered and mesmerized as play after play with all its strategy and purity is performed before my very eyes. I love it! So when my children ask if they can play little league baseball of course the answer is yes!

Now I am no virgin to the ways of little league baseball! The politics, coaches hoarding players and building teams to hopefully ensure a championship! What ever! The name of the game is winning, and winning is what it is all about! Betty coached for 5 years in various levels and thoroughly enjoyed watching kids build their skills and feel success as plays were massaged, rules enforced and just for a moment greatness was felt! The building blocks of success for the young! Heavy sigh…..

So whats grinding on me about little league at this very moment? What has me screaming bullshit towards the ump over a bad call that was obviously a strike? Jumping up and down like a crazed fan who just saw a double play for the first time live?

PARENTS AND COACHES

Ladies and Gentlemen in all my years I have never and I mean NEVER seen such a poor example of sportsmanship from both parents and coaches alike! Every night at the ball field there is some Al Bundy wanna be still reliving his 4 touchdowns in a single game from high school! This fool at the top of his lungs is screaming at a teenage umpire about how that last call was shit! Every four letter word in the book is thrown at this poor hapless youngster who is just trying to pass down his love for the game through umpiring only to become emotionally damaged by some fat ass 40 something threatening to kick his ass for a bad call made on his kid! Hey fat ass guess what little junior is not the next Buster Posey! He may never wear a Yankees uniform and unless I missed something, little league is supposed to be fun! Not much fun when old dad is near cardiac arrest over a call made by a child just trying to do the right thing and not even getting paid for it!

Then there is the upper leagues, “Majors” where ball playing really gets serious! My sons team is 18-2, no other team is close, yet it never ceases to amaze me the shit talking that goes on from both parents and coaches of the defeated teams. On the field coaches are acting like asses! Yelling at their kids after a loss things like; you are a disgrace, you make all of us look bad, do you like being losers because that is just what you are a bunch of losers! Or better yet, when one of our kids get on base near the opposing teams dugout, coaches from the opposing team are belittling our players! Are you kidding me? Heres and idea, practice! I know novel concept huh? We practice six days a week and the kids cant wait to get together because thier caoch makes it fun! Holy shit FUN on the ball field, thats just unheard of!!!!

ladies and gentlemen the last time I checked these were kids. Kids who play baseball on break between classes in school, kids who would play where they want, when they want, with or without us adults intervening, kids who pretend they are major league stars for only a moment while up at bat! Kids who play for fun! Thats right they play because it is fun!!! So I pose a simple question, why have we as adults decided the game is all about us? Why have we as adults taken it upon ourselves to put pressure on these kids to perform to standards that can’t be met, and most important of all why are we as adults admonishing them, belittling them and treating them like shit when they lose, instead of being the coaches we are supposed to be and working with them to create better players, better sportsman, and better human beings all through the venue of one of the greatest games ever played? Why?

I watched two grown men from opposing teams almost come to blows over a supposed “bad” call the other night! Not only was it an embarrassment for the teams, it was an embarrassment for the adults and it sure as hell was an embarrassment for the children. I know in the middle of the game I wouldn’t want to look up while at bat to see what all the commotion was about and find my dad poking some guy in the chest calling him an asshole! What the hell?

So all you part-time dads, Al Bundy’s of the world and all around abusive, small-minded, low self-esteem losers, listen up! Its baseball! It’s supposed to be fun, your kids are supposed to have fun win or lose (yes losing is no fun, but teaching a child how to lose with dignity only to win again at a later date is priceless) then leave the park feeling good! Not feeling like they are losers, or their coach hates them, or they let their parents down, or wondering why little Barry Bonds jr.’s dad is being arrested and hauled off to jail for beating the shit out of little Derek Jeters dad over a bad call.

Pull your heads out of your asses parents and lets allow our children to PLAY BALL!

Will you let deaths door remain open?

April 9, 2013 theycallmebetty4 Comments

Death:

Noun
The action or fact of dying or being killed; the end of the life of a person or organism.
An instance of a person or an animal dying.

So cold, callous and final is death, therefore the definition holds no particular glamour, no allure or promise of grandeur. Blunt and to the point, finality, end of subject.

But what death really means is so much more to those affected by its looming presence. Opening deaths door scars you emotionally; death leaves one wondering how, or why? What could this person have done differently changing the course of history, altering this ones “end of days?”

Death means nothing to those who are gone, but means so much to all who are left behind. Family members grieve, friends despair, acquaintances wonder what can be done to support those in anguish. A circle of emotional extremes travels through anyone and everyone who ever spoke the name of the deceased. And that’s ok, its how we process the loss of a being we will never lay eyes upon again. That in and of itself is truly hard to comprehend.

All living things have an expiration date. Its like the elephant in the room. We know it’s there yet we refuse to talk about it. I surmise the only reason it’s so hard to wrap our minds around is because our expiration date is unknown. We walk through life as though we can live forever yet in reality our next step could very well be our last. This alone could and should leave even the faintest of hearts terrified! For the smallest of acts such as opening a window to the outside world may lead to ones own extinction .

But in reality fear of death or someone dying unexpectedly doesn’t leave the majority of us human beings terrified at all. Sure we wonder about it, the where’s, why’s and how’s but it doesn’t stop us in our tracks, leave us helpless, lying on the floor in the fetal position. Why, because we have been bestowed with a phenomenal gift! A gift so great we should all be grateful for obtaining its possession! That gift?

Memories.

Memories are amazing! I as most, have lost a few people I cared deeply about in my life and what astounded me personally was the flood of wonderful memories after their passing. Its strange really, many of those memories were completely forgotten about until after my loved ones/friends death. Hundreds of fantastic, laughter filled, teary eyed, warm and comforting memories! The human brain continues to baffle me with its amazing complexity and instantaneous ability to work in the right way at exactly the right time. Combine that with a few good friends/family members, some wine and a photo album or two and stand back! Not a dry in the house and laughter combined with a strange reaction known as smiling will ensue! Does it replace a good old-fashioned hug from someone you love? No. But I bet you remember some of the nicest hugs you ever received from that person. Does it replace sipping a cool drink while partaking in an awesome conversation with the recently deceased? Nope, not a chance! But I guarantee your memory will allow you to lay in bed at night fondly remembering long conversations from evenings past?

Listen I am not saying memories are a perfect cure-all for an aching heart. It hurts to lose someone! It hurts deep inside, it hurts on the outside and for a period of time it feels as though the pain may never go away. But instead of letting the finality of deaths definition eat away at your soul; choose to remember, not forget. Choose to laugh and smile chasing away the effect left you by the grim reapers blackened robe. Let memories take ahold and guide you through the darkness into a place of light and understanding. A place where even though they had nothing to do with the timing of their passing you can forgive them for being gone, still love them for what they brought into your life and cherish ever single wonderful memory you have to reflect upon time and time again.

Remember; everyone, no matter who they are had a redeeming quality! Never at one wake, one funeral, one celebration of life have I heard a single person stand up to eulogize the deceased and say: “place-name here” was a god damn son of a bitch! I hated that bastard so much I am glad they are dead!

So grab those memories, smile and remember; celebrate all of their life experiences no matter how big, no matter how small, remember they loved you as well and in the end remember most of all how lucky you are to have spent what ever time the good lord afforded you with that person. Our time here isn’t promised, we should never ever sweat the small stuff, tomorrow may never come and memories last forever.

DEATH nor its meager definition can take that away from any of us.

In memory of Grandmother Rosemary

One of the few women I have ever met who lived life on her own terms and could flow into a room effortlessly while stealing the show with poise, grace, intelligence and kindness. May she rest in peace…..

A road of regret, remains a road to be traveled

April 8, 2013 theycallmebetty2 Comments

As a young lad (birth-14 years of age) I wandered through life pretty much afraid of my own shadow. If you challenged me to attempt some feat of greatness, my heart rate would quicken, cold sweat would drop from my pores and my body would slowly move backwards, quietly exiting the room unnoticed. A period of time passed where I was so gifted at being one with the group that my great Houdini disappearing act would completely go unnoticed. Group would participate, I would disappear, group would reassemble, I would reappear and all would believe that I too had partaken. Mission accomplished!

I don’t know why I was this way, some say it was fear of failure, others believe it was fear of rejection and then there is a feeling of possibly not fitting in with a group of your peers. As an adult who can look back upon this period of my life with an objective eye, it seems to me the fear of embarrassment for not doing well or having someone poke fun afterwards is what kept me over in the corner praying not to be noticed.

Either way, my unwillingness to participate in anything of substance left me stuck in a strange mental place. My inner Betty would scream a not yet coined Nike catch phrase of JUST DO IT!!! But self-preservation mode would always overpower even the slightest inkling of actually following through on anything.

As I grew into my late teens-early 20’s I took a very drastic turn the other direction! But instead of trying new challenges of substance, I slowly became the poster child for foolishness! To this day I am surprised my parents even claim me as their own. Instead of dwindling into the corner of a room I became the mouthpiece for the entire room and the room next door. My personality had changed to the point if I was not front and center, the focal point of attention, a moment of chaos would be created allowing you to notice little old me!

Once again looking back from the perspective of an adult. I had become Marty McFly. Dont you dare call me chicken! Dare me to do doughnuts with my truck in the high school parking lot! Go ahead, dare me! You don’t think my truck can do 120 mph? Dare me, go ahead! Whats that there’s a party tonight on the other side of town and I am grounded for a week! Dare me to steal my own truck, push it down the driveway after sneaking out and join the fun without getting caught! Heck I don’t even care about getting caught anyways, so dare me! Just dare me! Are you kidding me, you think that girl is out of my league! Dare me to go over and talk to her! Chicken you say, did you just call me chicken! Nobody calls me chicken! (By the way, got my nose relocated a few times as I was never a very good fighter)

Now with this new-found attitude came a side effect that as a child/teenager I had never intended. I alienated many good, long time friends, I hurt the feelings of many other very close friends and I hurt some family members feelings. All of which I regret greatly to this day. I was kicked out of my high school, let back in and almost kicked out again. My mouth almost always wrote checks my personality couldnt cash and I am pretty sure I drove my parents to alcoholism. Yes, I was that kid. If there was a story to be told, well I told! (sometimes with a great deal of embellishment) If there was a joke to be played, I played it! If there was a covert mission to take part in well then “Good morning Mr. Phelps”! I wanted, no I needed to be front and center if that didn’t happen then I acted like a little jerk! A little jerk that had just been called chicken!

My 20-30’s something happened. I calmed down just a bit and some of the wall flower came back in. I found myself still wanting to prove something, to someone, anyone, so my mouth was regularly engaged in self promotion. The problem was there was no back fill! At no point and time could I bring myself to actually finish many challenges my mouth had started!

Example:

Tried saddle bronc riding. Loved it, but was too scared to compete. Big regret!
Could have purchased my own truck and started my own company. Looked at one financing option. threw up my hands and quit! Big Regret!
Raised my own cows for two years, could have grown the operation but instead, got scared and quit! Big Regret!
Wanted to live on my own longer in my early 20’s. Got scared of being alone. Big Regret!
Joined the military, was promised a certain job, when I didn’t get it, I walked away, even though I had already been through MEPS and was waiting to swear in. Big Regret!
I have owned over 20 motorcycles in my life. My goal was to travel the United States on one of those bikes. Yet I could never bring myself to plan a trip! A regret I hold to this very day!
Plenty of chances in my early youth to travel to Europe on the cheap. Was terrified of the unknown. Regret!
Three times in my youth I could have gone sky diving. One of my biggest fears is jumping out of a perfectly good airplane! Excuses abounded for those three times, all while speaking of how easy sky diving would be! (except for just recently when offered I really/honestly could not make the date) Regret!

Everyone has regrets from their youth, these were just a few of mine. The difference is I was continually my own worst enemy. Always talking up the subject with no substance to back the proposal. As I reached my 30’s though life and my attitude really started to even out. The temper sub-sided ( you could call me chicken and I wouldn’t be offended), my personality had tempered just a bit. The latter half of my 20’s was filled with successes, the early part of my thirties was filled with growth, personal tragedy, more growth and knowledge. My life was really coming full circle and I now felt there wasnt as much to prove to anyone.

Moving into my 40’s and challenges were around me everyday, I no longer shrank into the back of the room or stood out front pounding my chest screaming look at me! I pick new challenges one at a time and do my very best to create some form of accomplishment! It has been a very rewarding decade so far. Sounds great right? Like I should be very proud of where my life is headed. The problem?

Two things. First, I now feel as though I have an enormous list of personal challenges to accomplish and I am running out of time. I am also finding new activities that I love so much I wish they had been discovered in my 20’s so I could thrive at them for another 40 years! Second. I now see the very same issues I had as a young lad in one of my sons. He is struggling to find himself, and in doing so is traveling head first down the same road of disappointment his father traveled so many years ago. There is nothing I can do to stop him for he is every bit as head strong and stubborn as the old man himself! We have talked, I have warned him, given him examples of my failures and successes and yet away he goes! It’s like watching a semi-truck plowing straight towards a stalled school bus and knowing there is nothing you can do to halt the inevitable destruction that shall ensue from a collision.

As one parent to many others the point of my long-winded tale is this; How do we get our children to experience life, listen to advice and learn from their successes and failures without repeating the same horrible mistakes of our youth. Or do we sit back and just watch the bus crash, hoping we can triage the incident successfully afterwards?

Anyone? Beuller, Beuller, Beuller……….

Dont touch me! STRANGER DANGER-STRANGER DANGER!

March 26, 2013 theycallmebetty2 Comments

You know, lately I have been feelings as though our world has been going to hell in a handbasket! ( Yeah I know it’s a dated expression)

But nothing and I mean nothing has sent me further over the edge than the following story! It received little coverage, little debate and apparently WE as a society have said this is ok!

Really?

Before Betty fires up her stove as smashes down her ladle please read, enjoy and if, as a parent, future parent or aspiring to be parent you don’t feel sick to your stomach than maybe I am just getting to old and outdated for today’s society.

Huffington Post D.C.

Maryland School Bans Hugging: St. Mary’s County Public Elementary Schools Ban Hugs, Birthday Party Invitations And Homemade Food (UPDATED)
Posted: 03/18/2013 1:22 pm EDT | Updated: 03/21/2013 4:51 pm EDT

From the same state that suspended a 7-year-old for turning his Pop Tart into a Pop Tart shaped like a gun, comes a ban on hugging.

Southern Maryland Newspapers Online reports on the new guidelines for visitors, parents and students for St. Mary’s County public elementary schools:

Birthday invitations should not be handed out at school, Hall said, because students who are not invited could have their feelings hurt. She said school PTAs could develop phone and email contact lists, with parents’ approval, to distribute.
Foods for celebrations should be limited to store-bought items that contain ingredient lists so as not to interfere with children’s food allergies, according to the rules.

Parents visiting the cafeteria should not hug or touch children other than their own, nor should they discipline other children, the guidelines say. Parents should also not walk with their child when he or she leaves the cafeteria.

Other changes include limiting recess visits for parents, prohibiting visits from siblings and a new ban on approaching teachers in person to schedule meetings. Visitors must also now check in with the front desk and have their photo taken. The complete list of rules can be read in the Best Practices on School Visitors document.

The rules were chosen by a panel of parents and teachers over four meetings.

To the best of our knowledge, the school has no current plans to ban Flamin’ Hot Cheetos or award-winning books.

This isn’t the first school hugging ban. Schools in Oregon and Florida banned two people wrapping their arms around each other in 2010. For a variety of reasons, the act of expressing emotion with physical contact was also banned in schools in New Jersey, Brooklyn and New Zealand in 2012.

Are you freaking kidding me! I cannot walk with my child, I can only hug my child and not his best friend who looks to me as a father figure! I cannot comfort a child who has fallen and is crying in the hallway as a concerned adult! Or assist the lost and crying child out front who can’t find their mommy! I am sorry but what the holy HELL!

Yes that’s right ladies and gentlemen your local PTA and school board are taking our little futures and pushing them one step closer towards assimilation! Lets teach our children to continue down a mired pathway of insensitivity, callousness and just plain cold emotion! Dont you dare point that bony finger of judgement at me for being angry! You all want to persecute the bullying child yet in the very same breath teach that love and compassion are forbidden within school walls?

You say we need to embed kindness and diversity but let anybody hug a child other than the proposed finger printed and background checked parent during a prescribed time and place tells of the exact opposite! We all need to emphasize the importance of sharing, giving, and respect! But unfortunately now when your child needs love, attention and emotion, a teacher can only remove them from class, point them towards Broom Hilda the school nurse ( no offense to all the wonderful school nurses out there just a reference since your hands are now tied as well) who then sets them on a cold fiberglass chair while mom or dad are notified of their childs emotional needs!

No that’s OK American school systems! Lets continue down this blasphemous path of callousness, coldness and anguish! Yes sir! Move forward (separate subject but tied to this subject just the same) with more of everything is the “teachers” fault! No personal responsibility on the parents behalf! Lead the way school administrators with your obvious collective of higher educational thought process by continuing to pander to a lowest common denominator by punishing the caring, the thoughtful, the loving, and the watchful eye of parents who care about not only their children but all children because we know, and remember the pain and hurt associated with being a small child alone in a large place such as school! Now not only will little ones become callous and cold but as they age they will have learned to show no emotion or caring when another child is hurt or scared! Instead laughing, pointing fingers, verbal assaults and even pointing thier little cell phone/cameras to video, then placing this travesty on You-Tube for amuesment!

Oh wait; that is already happening! I digress….

Heres and idea, and yes I am now going to lump my hatred for our school system allowing parents to blame their teachers for the lack of education their precious little bundle of joy may or may not be receiving as opposed to reprimanding parents who cannot be bothered to raise their own children with manners such as, oh lets shoot one from the hip here; RESPECTING YOUR FREAKING TEACHER AT ALL COSTS!!!

Yes I am wandering off again, grrrrrr, so back to my brilliant simple idea: There is an old saying which I still adhere to this very day. “It takes a village”. If a child needs a hug-ask if you can give them a hug! Then point them in the right, responsible direction! (I know shocker huh!) If a child is misbehaving in class; give the teacher back the power to reprimand said student! Man if I was rude or disrespectful to a teacher in my day… POW! I got it when I got home! If we don’t teach our children to respect teachers RIGHT NOW they are going to grow up disrespecting all forms of authority! It starts with parents, then teachers, moves up to bosses, cops, firefighters, employees, and right on down the line until we (society) just ends up having no respect for anyone or anything! This is simple human nature people!!!

QUIT QUIT QUIT ALLOWING OUR SYSTEM TO PANDER TO THE LOWEST OF THE LOW! Yes the boogy man is out there! Yes everyday a child will disappear, be molested, murdered, hurt, and bullied. Do I want that? NO! Does it make me furious? YES and it should you as well! Is the answer taking away human compassion from their little psyche’s? NO! The answer lies within us! Stop thinking about how this (raising our children properly) inconveniences us as adults! Quit expecting the school system to do it for you! Stand up for your children! Put away child molesters for life! Anyone who harms or murders a child needs to be put away for life! Send the message this society will not run scared! This society will not allow this to happen anymore without dire consequences! This society will no longer tolerate bad or inappropriate behavior from children as well as adults.

We all need to put our foot down and say: I AM MAD AS HELL AND I AM NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!!!

These children are our future! Do you want our future filled with continued callousness, disrespect and hatred for all who walk this earth! If so then I see no other alternative but to lay down and let the Terminators bring us to extinction.

Where are you John Connor when we need you?

Am I crazy, am I wrong? Lets get to talking about this for I feel as though we are on the precipice of social collapse and all we are willing to do, is stand by; let it happen and point a bony finger, because it is obviously someone elses fault.

Betty needs a hug!

UPDATE, March 21, 4:45 p.m.: Southern Maryland Newspapers Online reports that the no hugging rule was only meant as a suggestion.

St. Mary’s public schools are backing off immediately implementing rules for visitors that initially limited homemade food and hugs for students from anyone other than their own parents, Superintendent Michael Martirano said this week.
What were called “best practices” for school visitors outlined at a school board meeting last week should have only been recommendations, he said, and they were incorrectly announced as new rules that would go into effect immediately.

Lets keep it going people! This school district came to thier senses but others remain in effect and even more have implemented or are about to implement this type of distorted thinking!

A head in the sand

March 14, 2013March 14, 2013 theycallmebetty2 Comments

Oh life would be so infinetly grand, if I lived it like most with my head in the sand

There would be no hunger, there could be no strife

Each day would bring joy not the taking of life

Those who are accused could do so un-judged

A mistake forgotten a reputation un-smudged