The End of the Line
Terri leaves behind an important legacy -- her cause got people talking and thinking about their own wishes, and actually doing something about it.
I'll take up my drum and soapbox some other day. Today, I'm going to just say, "Godspeed, Terri."
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Looks like the Pope's not far behind her.
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Detour Ahead
The radiologist thinks that Mom will be pretty sick by then, and may even require hospitalization. It sometimes feels like the treatment is worse than the disease. However, if, when the treatment is done, she finally feels better, it will be well worth it. After all, her first oncologist didn't give her six months to live and she's certainly spit in the eye of that prediction. My money's on my mom to come through radiation like a champ, too.
I just hope the Jawja bloggers will hold another Blogtoberfest get-together this year. One way or another, there are a bunch of people who I'm going to meet. It's not a matter of if; it's a matter of when. Fair warning.
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Drive-Bys
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Cuteness rating: 10.
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More warm, fuzzy feelings. I needed that today.
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Tootin’ the Horn
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Zippety-doo-dah! It's my lucky day.
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Down Memory Lane
The summer after my high school freshman year my folks bought me a three-speed bike to replace my old Huffy. In our neighborhood the streets were pretty clear of traffic, and all the kids rode in the streets, instead of on the sidewalks. I was peddling down the street with the Bush twins (Suzanne and Sharon, not Jenna and Barbara) on a clear, sunny day. Out of nowhere, a car came whizzing down the street and nearly sideswiped us. Being unused to hand brakes, I panicked and grabbed the front brake (left hand) before grabbing the rear brake (right hand). I was catapulted over the handlebars and landed smack in the middle of my forehead (so I am told).
The last thing I remembered was seeing that car whipping by. I have a vague memory of being on my back on the tree lawn, trying to focus on the sky and not being able to do so. The next clear memory is of waking up on the couch in my family room and asking, "What happened to me?"
My mother shouted, "You fell of your bicycle, you idiot! And if you ask me that one more time, I'm going to knock you out myself!" Then she stomped off to get her purse and keys to take me to the emergency room.
[Okay. Here's a question -- why in the world did she wait until I woke up to take me to the emergency room? For that matter, I can't believe anyone moved me in the first place. I'm damned lucky that I didn't break my neck. Anyway, that's the way my mother's mind works. She's always in a huff when one of her chicks is damaged. Some people panic. Some people flutter helplessly. My mom just gets pissed at the world, grabs her car keys and yells at the damaged chick in transit to the hospital.]
Yes, I had a mild concussion. Again, I was very lucky I have a thick skull.
In addition, I had a matching set of very, very colorful shiners.
Fortunately, school was not in session, and I didn't have to see anybody but my pals from the neighborhood, I thought. But, OOPS! I forgot. I also was heading off that weekend to an event that I had been counting on to meet boys. Lots and lots of boys. Eek!
What kind of event? Well, I have to digress for a moment here. I had grown up as a Brownie and a Junior Girl Scout. Cindy Hampton's mom had been our Scout leader for years. When it came time to move up to Cadets (now Studio 2B), Mrs. Hampton decided that she would rather lead a Mariner's group (now defunct; a girlie counterpart to Sea Scouts), instead. Of course, my mom signed me up. This was all well and good, but we lived in the far west suburbs of Chicago, and the biggest body of water available was the local ice skating pond. And we didn't meet anywhere near there, but at a park in Wheaton, IL that had no water save for a drinking fountain. Are you getting the picture here?
Mrs. Hampton decided that we would participate in a bay jammer in Indiana. Participate, meaning compete. Right. About the only events we could enter were knot tying and orienteering, because none of us had any boating experience whatsoever. I had gotten brave and decided to enter an event called "gunnel pumping," because I'd at least paddled a canoe a time or two. What's gunnel pumping, you ask? Gunnel pumping is standing on the gunnels -- or the lip -- in the stern of a canoe and moving the canoe by pumping up and down with your legs only. (In retrospect, what in the hell was I thinking?)
My fellow Mariners and I were feeling pretty stupid about the whole thing when Mrs. Hampton mentioned that there were also going to be Sea Scouts competing.
Hoo, boy! Camping and boys and no parents allowed! Whoohoo! Knot tying? Piece of cake. Gunnel pumping? Just watch me. I was primed and ready, and so were the rest of my merry band of Mariners.
And then I ended up with those two ferocious black eyes. No amount of makeup would cover them. Even big sunglasses couldn't completely hide them. They were humongous. Oh. My. God. There would be boys and they would see them. This was so not going to happen to me.
I pleaded with my mom to stay home that weekend, but she was adamant. I was going. Or. Else.
"Or else" is never good with my mom. Anything is preferable to "or else." Even having to join a Alaskan naked kazoo marching band would be preferable to my mother's "or else." But I have to tell you, this came pretty close.
So off I went to a teenaged girl's biggest nightmare: competitions in things at which I had not one ounce of skill and a couple of shiners you could spot from a city block away. I was doomed to be a wall flower all weekend. I just knew it.
It's funny how things turned out, though. I ended up the envy of every Mariner at the bay jammer, because all the boys wanted to know who had given me the shiners and could they take care of him for me, please? I've never been that popular before or since.
So that's all it takes to get guys to pay attention to you, ladies. Knock yourselves out.
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Bus Fumes
(There. I feel better now.)
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“Like many others with disabilities, I believe that the American public, to one degree or another, holds that disabled people are better off dead.”
This is what I’ve been talking about. Read the whole thing. (A tip of the cap to Go here. Read it and cringe.
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Drive-Bys
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Stupid headline of the day. (Well, duh! We weren't expecting this?)
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Right. There were no WMDs. Not ever. Nuh uh.
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Rest Stops
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Richard Roeper opines on restroom etiquette and the jerkaholic.
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Driver's Test -- Written Exam
1.) First question is, from my perspective, an obvious one: your blog is called "Get On the Bus" and you post under the name "Omnibus Driver"....what's all that about?
Actually, it's called "Leslie's Omnibus." I wanted the URL to be "getonthebus.com"... but it was taken at the time, so I settled for http://getonthe.blogspot.com. (Thanks for actually catching that one! Lots of people don't.)
Why Omnibus? Hmmmm. Let's turn to Dictionary.com:
Omnibus -- adj : providing for many things at once; "an omnibus law" [syn: omnibus(a)] n 1: an anthology of articles on a related subject or an anthology of the works of a single author 2: a vehicle carrying many passengers; used for public transport; "he always rode the bus to work" [syn: bus, autobus, coach, charabanc, double-decker, jitney, motorbus, motorcoach]
adj 1 and n 1 speak for themselves. n 2, for a number of reasons. I once took a brown bus tour of London and loved the tour guide, the driver and the view from the open second deck. Great way to see and learn a lot in a short period of time. The way I see it, my blog is a very public vehicle for my personal observations. I'll even offer you an open-air, top deck view, if you like!
Finally, why "Omnibus Driver?" I come from a family of control freaks. You think I'm going to let anyone else drive this particular Omnibus?
2.) Carnival of the Khakis, Carnival of the Liberated, Carnival of the Cats, Carnival of the Capitalists, Carnival of the Dogs, Carnival of the Recipes...do you participate in all of these?! How????
Carnival of the Khakis! You must be one of the few who ever found it. That whole Sandy Berger thing was very upsetting, and nobody had come up with a meme like Rathergate for it. (Lots flew around, but none really stuck) I thought it would be fun to have a Carnival rounding up the many different posts I saw. Since his pants and the contents thereof were the issue, that particular Carnival named itself. Anyway, I was inspired by the many other Carnivals out there.
I have hosted and posted on the Carnival of the Cats, and have referred people to Carnival of the Dogs. I've picked up wonderful recipes off the Carnival of the... well...
I've actually referred some of the people I work for to the Carnival of the Capitalists.
And Carnival of the Liberated certainly helped me see a different side of the war on terror than I could get in the mainstream media.
Sometimes on a bus tour you see a roadside diversion you might just want to visit -- a carnival, a petting zoo, a harvest festival, a historic market. It's fun to point people to other great information and entertainment. That's the tour guide in me coming out.
3.) One very nice thing about your site is that you often mix things up a bit...on any given day, you might toss out a dozen or more links, or you might write a long post on a particular subject, or you might post some humor from "The Rowdies In The Back Of The Bus." Or all of the above! What's the deciding factor in what you're going to post?
Thanks! I have very eclectic tastes, and I like to share that in my links. As you can tell by some of my headings, I write about things that piss me off, cheer me up, briefly catch my attention, make my chin drop to my knees or tickle me silly. Sometimes I'm moved to write about what's happening out in the real world. Sometimes it's fun to tell stories about the surreal world -- my family. Quite honestly, it's been a real relief to have a place to vent and to turn for support in the face of my mom's illness. The response in prayer has been wonderful.
As for "The Rowdies in the Back of the Bus," I have a lot of friends who don't blog, but who send me links and jokes. It's fun to have some off-web passengers and share their voices with others. In addition, there are some damn funny bloggers out there, and it’s easier (and in this case, more polite) just to point to them.
I guess the deciding factor in what I post on any give day is where my passions are leading me at the moment. It's certainly always an interesting journey.
4.) Your blog is very unique in that it doesn't have a blogroll...why not? ;-)
For the same reason I don't have a site meter: I'm a techno-moron. I wouldn't even have had a blog if I hadn't tried to post a comment at Blonde Justice. (Who, by the way, has never acknowledged that she gave birth to me. Yes. I'm an illegitimate blogchild. Thank God at least my Blogdaddy claims me.) Blogger took over, and the next thing I knew, the Omnibus went from a daily email to friends to a love letter to the worldwide web. (Blogger, by the way, has made posting comments MUCH easier now that you don't have to do that sign in nonsense.)
As for the site meter issue, it's easier to just write and post than it is to wrestle with stuff in an area where I have no expertise. I sometimes prevaricate and tell myself that it's liberating to write and not know who is reading; that the point is the writing itself and not the audience. On the other hand, it can get really discouraging not knowing if anyone's out there.
I really would like to set up a blogroll. Actually, I'm hoping that someone will take pity on me when I get to Jekyll. Please? (Pretty please?) I'd really like to learn so that I: a) am not dependent on others to do these things; and, b) can honor some people who've been pretty very helpful/generous to me.
5.) Just another three weeks, you've plans to attend the Georgia Writers' Workshop...what bloggers are you especially looking forward to meeting and are your expectations for the trip?
I have a long list of people I'd really like to meet, but I'll give you the top four:
a) You, because we've corresponded a few times, and it's been really enjoyable... and I love your writing. It will be fun to put a face and a voice to a name.
b) Velociman. We've corresponded a few times, both about this blogmeet, and about my mom. He's been incredibly supportive.
c) Kelley, because she hasn't posted in quite a while. I almost got to meet her when she was on a layover in Chicago on her way to meet Kate in Hawaii, and have always regretted that it just didn't happen. I want to get caught up on her health, her job and her family.
d) Rob. I love his unflinching honesty. Whether or not you agree with him, you always know exactly where he stands on an issue – and why. (Plus, I'm curious to know if he ever got the "postcards" I sent him from my cruise last fall.)
Aw, heck -- here are a few more: Eric, Dax, Key and Queenie. If you've read their blogs, you know why I want to meet them. If you haven't read their blogs, what are you waiting for? Shoo! Just go there.
My expectations for the trip? No turbulance. My rental car to be ready on time. A pub crawling-slumber party-karaoke contest-nail salon-jello wrestling (er, jello shot) competition-beach blanket bingo-summer camp-life-altering epiphany. Oh, yeah. And maybe actually polishing up my writing skills. I can't wait!
6.) What question did I not ask but you wish HAD asked?...
How's the Princess Mom?
Funny you should ask.
For those new to the Omnibus, my mom is being treated for Stage III non-small cell lung cancer. As a result of adult onset asthma, she's also in the early stages of emphysema. Add a rheumatic heart and mild diabetes to the mix. The tumor is located between her aorta and her spinal column. They couldn't remove the lower lobe of her lung to get at it due to the emphysema issue and because she was in such rough shape after that explatorary surgery that they weren't sure she'd even live to tell about it. Since she was very weak and adamantly opposed to chemo or radiation, the first tried a drug called Iressa (which has since been proven worthless in clinical trials). To the surprise to her doctors, but not to her children, she bounced back and was doing very well. But... a CAT scan showed that the tumor was growing. Since she was so much healthier, her oncologist again broached the issue of chemo and radiation. She agreed... but here's where the "Princess" part kicks in -- she wanted to hold off on the radiation until she got back from a cruise. The oncologist agreed, but she had to take six courses of chemo instead of four in order to be able to do it. What does chemo do to your system? Right! Destroys your immune system. The week before the very cruise that she was holding off radiation treatment for, she came down with pneumonia/bronchitis/anemia. (Take your pick. We're still not sure, from what she tells us, which one or more it was.) Anyway, that landed her in a hospital instead of on that very cruise ship a couple of weeks ago.
So how's she doing now? Still hacking up hairballs, but better. She started radiation treatments last week. The problem is, she's probably going to be suffering from a raging case of esophagitis from the radiation treatments right around the time I'm supposed to be heading off to the Georgia Writers' Workshop... so I may be heading for Sarasota instead of Jekyll Island.
I'm certainly not complaining, because my mother is my number one priority, as well she should be.
(But y'all had better be ready for me at the next Jawja blogger shindig if I have to miss this one.)
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Okay. Now it's your turn. For the first five people who volunteer, I'll take a stroll through your archives (it's kind of like rummaging through your underwear drawer) and send five questions for you, too. Who wants to go first?
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Bus Fumes
(A tip of the cap to Roger L. Simon.)
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Rubber-Necking
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Heather and Jessica are guaranteed to have you spewing, too.
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Bus Fumes
(A tip of the cap to my Blogdaddy.)
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P.S. -- I thought that FEC thing sounded a little hinky. Seems I might have been correct.
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Traveling Companions
*******PLEASE CROSS POST WIDELY*****
WESTLAND, MI - MILWAUKEE, WI
SATURDAY - MARCH 26TH
*****DATE & ALL LEGS FLEXIBLE*****
REASON FOR TRANSPORT: Shelter to Rescue
COMING FROM: Westland Humane Society
37255 Marquette
Westland, MI 48185
(734) 721-7300
Hours: Mon - Sat 8-5
Jackson County Animal Control
2004 Blackstone
Jackson, MI
DESTINATION: Specialty Purebred Cat Rescue
Lisa Ferguson - Foster
Milwaukee, WI
(414) 871-2228
http://by12fd.bay12.hotmail.msn.com/cgi-bin/compose?mailto=1&msg=MSG1111689392.37&start=131849&len=23981&src=&type=x&to=fergusonlisa2000@yahoo.com&cc=&bcc=&subject=&body=&curmbox=F000000001&a=452476d2c549e696f261e9a2ff063de1
ORGANIZATION RESPONSIBLE FOR TRANSPORT:
CFA PUREBRED RESCUE
TRANSPORT COORDINATOR:
Peggy Dial
President
Ragdoll Rescue USA/International
CFA Purebred Rescue Transport Coordinator
(618) 624-2511 Fax (618) 624-4492
http://by12fd.bay12.hotmail.msn.com/cgi-bin/compose?mailto=1&msg=MSG1111689392.37&start=131849&len=23981&src=&type=x&to=pdial5@charter.net&cc=&bcc=&subject=&body=&curmbox=F000000001&a=452476d2c549e696f261e9a2ff063de1
PASSENGERS: 4 Cats
COMING FROM WESTLAND
BREED/SPECIES: Persian Cat
COLOR: White
AGE: 1 Year
GENDER: Female
SIZE: 6 Lbs
ALTERED: Yes
UTD ON RABIES: Yes
VET RECORDS: Yes
TESTED NEGATIVE FOR FIV/FELV: Yes
CARRIER: Will be provided
BREED/SPECIES: Persian Cat
COLOR: Tortie
AGE: 1 Year
SIZE: 3.5 Lbs
GENDER: Female
ALTERED: Yes
UTD ON RABIES: Yes
VET RECORDS: Yes
TESTED NEGATIVE FOR FIV/FELV: Yes
CARRIER: Will be provided
BREED/SPECIES: Persian Cat
NAME: Baxter
AGE: Adult
GENDER: Male
ALTERED: Yes
UTD ON RABIES: Yes
VET RECORDS: Yes
TESTED NEGATIVE FOR FIV/FELV: Yes
CARRIER: Will be provided
COMING FROM JACKSON
BREED/SPECIES: Himalayan Cat
COLOR: Flame Point
AGE: 1 Year
GENDER: Female
ALTERED: Yes
UTD ON RABIES: Yes
VET RECORDS: Yes
TESTED NEGATIVE FOR FIV/FELV: Yes
CARRIER: Will be provided
*******PLEASE CROSS POST WIDELY*****
WESTLAND, MI - MILWAUKEE, WI
SATURDAY - MARCH 26TH
*****DATE & ALL LEGS FLEXIBLE*****
Leg 1 - Westland, MI - Jackson, MI - FILLED
49 Miles 54 Minutes THANKS SUZY!
Depart: 11:00 AM Arrive: 12:00 PM
Leg 2 - Jackson, MI - Michigan City, IN - FILLED
41 Miles 39 Minutes THANKS SUSIE!
Depart: 12:15 PM Arrive: 2:30 PM
Leg 3 - Michigan City, IN - Hammond, IN - NEED
47 Miles 50 Minutes
Depart: 2:45 PM Arrive: 3:35 PM - Eastern
1:45 PM 2:35 PM - Central
Leg 4 - Hammond, IN - Skokie, IL - OMNIBUS DRIVER
42 Miles 53 Minutes
Depart: 2:15 PM Arrive: 3:25 PM
Leg 5 - Skokie, IL - Milwaukee, WI - FILLED BY
79 Miles 1 Hour 23 Minutes RESCUE
Depart: 4:45 PM Arrive: 5:30 PM
I really like doing this! It gives you a warm, fuzzy feeling.
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Drive-Bys
The topper on the cake? The dream fragment where I'm trying to get ready for work and my mom is there picking up clothes I've laid out to wear and putting them into the washer before I can reach them, grabbing my jewelry box and rearranging it before I can select the earrings I was reaching for -- just generally getting in the way and organizing my stuff as she goes along. (Oddly enough, it looks like a jewelry box my Auntie Francis used to own. I don't have a jewelry box. I just use the little gift boxes the stuff comes in. Hmmm.) Anyway, I'm getting more and more frustrated because I have a train to catch, and it almost seems like Mom's deliberately trying to make me late. I'm standing there in my underwear. Then I woke up.
(You think I have Mom issues, maybe?)
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Zonker has answered Bitterman's five questions. Seems I'm going to get five questions of my own. I don't know whether I should be scared or flattered. Oh, well. It can't be too bad. I mean, the man "jam dances," for cripes sake. (I chair dance when the food in front of me is heavenly, too.)
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I don't know about you, but I needed a little good news for a change. That restores my hope for humanity a bit.
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Down Memory Lane
Rob posted about the couple of times he was knocked out cold, and asked if his readers had ever experienced the same. Unsurprisingly, most of his respondents were of the male persuasion. For anyone who knew me as a kid, it is also unsurprising to hear that not only did it happen to me once, it actually happened to me twice.
The first time was when I was around six or seven years old. We were living in Brook Park, Ohio, and visiting family in Abbeyville -- a little tiny town that’s long since been absorbed by Valley City. My Dad’s Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Aldy owned a dairy farm there, and right down the road from them, lived Aunt Dorothy’s father (always referred to as “Grandpa Gunkleman”) and brothers (Phillip and Raymond).
Raymond had a couple of sons whom he dearly loved, and wanted to some day take over the family farm. The problem was, there weren’t a lot of outlets for socializing (other than communing with the cows in the milking parlor) in Abbeyville. Raymond decided to take a corner lot and turn it into a baseball diamond, complete with grandstands, night lights and a concession stand. He popped for uniforms for his boys’ teams, and allowed other teams to schedule games in his field. It is true. If you build it, they WILL come. Other than the Crow’s Nest (the local pub), that was the biggest entertainment in town.
So there we were on a sunny Sunday afternoon (we always went on Sundays), sitting in the stands and watching a hotly contested game between the Abbeyville guys and a team of Brunswick boys. My dad had gone to the concession stand to get me a sno-cone – blue raspberry, I think (I've always been partial to the blue ones). Just as Dad was climbing back up the stand, his cousin Roger was at bat. Just as Dad was handing me the sno-cone, Rodger let one rip that broke the bat in two. As I was turning to look at Dad and take the sno-cone, the end of the bat hit me squarely above my right eye. Bam! Out like a light. (Did you know a sno-cone can do a dandy job of reducing swelling?)
Is it any wonder that I’m not a big baseball fan?
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Part two tomorrow. Toodles for now!
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P.S. -- It says something about the hardness of my noggin that that didn't put me right straight into the hospital. Roger could hit'em like a rocket.
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Bus Fumes
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Well, poop. If I'm tired and heartsick over this (and I am), I can't imagine what her family is going through. Mainly, I've accepted that she's going to die. I'm just pissed as hell at the way it's going to happen. And that it's happening to other people in Florida, right now... and nobody is screaming and yelling about that.
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Oh, God! Not that, too! I practically mainline the stuff.
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I sincerely hate mornings. In fact, I LOATHE mornings. So if this clock ever stops working for me, I’m going to try these. That just might do it.
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Makin' a List
Terry Schiavo
Brain damaged is entirely different from "a persistent vegetative state," which is defined in 2003->Ch0744->Section 3215">Florida Statute 744.3215 as:
Watch the videos of Terri Schiavo and ask yourself if you can say "yes" to both a) and b) above. If that doesn't do it for you, listen to this audio of Terri the last time they removed her feeding tube. (I have personal experience with developmentally disabled adults who are about as responsive as Terri is in these videos. Should their parents or caregivers be able to withhold food or hydration if they become a financial burden?)"Persistent vegetative state means a permanent and irreversible condition of unconsciousness in which there is:
"(a) The absence of voluntary action or cognitive behavior of ANY kind.
"(b) An inability to communicate or interact purposefully with the environment."
Think Michael Schiavo has her best interests at heart? Try reading this, then talk to me about how much he has Terri's best interests at heart.
It's a painless death, right?
It's just one woman, right? Consider "Disability Activists Call for Moratorium on Starvation and Dehydration." (Scroll down.)
"The call for a moratorium is a reaction to the newly-published report indicating high levels of brain activity in people thought to be in "minimally conscious state (MCS)." The study, published in the February issue of Neurology, discovered evidence that these individuals may hear and understand much of what is going on around them, but are unable to respond.This could be your mother, your father, your sister, your brother, your spouse... or you. Politics, schmolitics. This is about simple human decency... or the extreme lack thereof. Terri Schiavo just happens to be its very visible poster girl.
"The study drew a distinction between MCS and Persistent Vegetative State (PVS), but the distinction is not a reliable one. In a New York Times article, Dr. Joseph Fins mentioned research indicating a 30% misdiagnosis rate of PVS, indicating that nearly a third of persons diagnosed in PVS are actually in "minimally conscious state." Fins is chief of the medical ethics division of New York Presbyterian Hospital-Weill Cornell Medical Center.
"With the exception of oblique references to Terri Schiavo, current coverage of the study and its implications dance around the most important issues regarding this study. Namely, thousands of people around this country with labels of both MCS and PVS are being starved and dehydrated, often without an advance directive indicating their wishes, or a durable power of attorney appointing a substitute decision-maker they chose for themselves."
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Roadside Diversions
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Bus Fumes
"Hairbangers Ball is playing Saturday, April 9 at Joes on Weed St -
$10.00"
There was a time I would have know what that meant... and probably would have been raring to go. Now I look at that and think, "Who or what the hell is Hairbangers Ball? Eeeew. Weed Street? Who's Joe? And are you serious?"
Gah! I'm not ready to be a grownup yet! Make it stop!
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PSA
I have been to Tree House and seen the work they do. If you can't foster, donations would be great.
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Bus Fumes
If I treated my cat the way that Michael Schiavo proposes to treat his wife, I would be locked up for cruelty to animals.
If Michael Schiavo wants his wife dead so badly, then let it be quick and painless. But make him stick the needle in the vein and push the plunger while looking her in the eye.
The rat bastard would probably do it, too.
You want cruel and unusual punishment? Starvation certainly fits my definition.
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Road Conditions
I know I’ve been jumping up and down on my soapbox for the last couple of days, but one of the (more interesting) things I do in my work life is to spot litigation trends. What do I see?
I see the FEC’s refusal to back off of the possibility of suing bloggers for linking to political websites on their blogs. I don’t believe they will pick on the big boys like Patrick exactly because they are highly visible targets. I believe they will take a page out of the RIAA playbook and carpet-bomb the little guys. Why? Because the little guys simply can’t financially afford to fight back, and they certainly can’t generate the kind of attention a high-profile blogger can. The FEC will get loads of media notice, however. (The better to scare you with, my dear.)
Further, Glenn Reynolds seems to advocate Shanti Mangala’s war on The Times of India. I would temper that enthusiasm, however, with the fact that The Times has already proven that litigation is a mighty effective cudgel.
So you still think you might want to climb on that bandwagon anyway, because your blog is anonymous? Think again. It’s apparently very easy to find us… and find us they will.
No! No! That can’t possibly be right, you say?
Well, look at what happened in the Apple trade secrets lawsuit against Apple Insider, PowerPage and Think Secret. Not only were these bloggers forced to divulge their sources, the court went a step further: “The court also granted Apple powers to root around the blogger's e-mail records in their near-religious quest to track down the culprit.”
Not enough to scare you?
“Meanwhile, Mac was busy flexing its bully boy corporate muscle in the UK, successfully squashing a smaller company holding prior rights on the iTunes.co.uk domain.”
Okay. Does this mean I’m going to back off of shouting my head off about these issues? No. In fact, I’ll take Patrick’s pledge right here:
If the FEC makes rules that limit my First Amendment right to express my opinion on core political issues, I will not obey those rules.
I will, however, be fully cognizant that there may be ugly legal ramifications for the exercise of these rights. And I will be fully cognizant that big business has recognized that lawsuits are a highly effective method for shutting down my ability to publicly dissent.
I’m not a conspiracy theorist, and I don’t believe there’s some sinister cabal lurking somewhere out in the ether to pounce on us. I do believe, though, that business and government have simply found an economically inexpensive and technically effective way to control what can and cannot be published. (You've almost got to admire that. Almost.)
I am a practical person, and I’d like to be making these choices with a bit more of a safety net. A few dollars here and there add up quickly. I’ll say it one more time, and then I’ll shut up – bloggers need to give serious discussion to the merits of setting up a legal/legislative defense fund. And we need to start that discussion NOW. The time to think about acquiring anti-aircraft guns is not in the middle of the bombing of Dresden.
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Update: Patrick pointed out this organization to me. That's a start. Good.
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Down Memory Lane
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Road Conditions
I, on the other hand (to paraphrase Haley Joel Osment in The Sixth Sense), "see [lawsuits]. They're everywhere." Waving a red flag in front of a bull is pretty damned stupid if you don't have a clearly accessible escape route planned in advance. The Times has already proven that they can shut down a blogger quickly and effectively by making it too expensive to defend against a lawsuit. They're bigger, and they've got enough resources to file lots of lawsuits.
Patrick also sees prosecution on the horizon in the case of the FEC, and says, in effect, "Bring it on, baby."
Who's going to pay for defending such cases as they arise? I'd sure like to know. Because, sure as shooting, they are coming.
Once bloggers became a highly visible, very pesky, worldwide community, we became a threat to the MSM, to big business, and to big government. We must be ahead of the curve on protecting our interests and our freedoms. I'm still voting for some kind of legal/legislative fund to do that. We should be identifiable as a group. We should be lobbying our legislators. We should be supporting each other when the lawsuits come -- and believe me, they're coming. The RIAA had wonderful success in stemming the downloading tide. Apple just smacked First Amendment rights upside the head with a theft of trade secrets claim. What can be horribly costly to an individual blogger is a drop in the bucket to MSM, big business and big government. Do you think the big guns haven't noticed?
I see lawsuits. They're everywhere.
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Chartered Excursions -- Syria
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Road Conditions
"The owner, Pradyuman Maheshwari, has decided to cease the publication because he doesn't have the time, energies and monies to fight the biggies."Between the RIAA targeting file sharers, trademark suits brought by big companies like Apple, and the government trying to take away our First Amendment right to freedom of speech, the road ahead looks bumpy indeed. I smell a trend, and it's "divide and conquer." Seems to me it's already proving quite successful.
There is strength in numbers, however. The citizens of the blogosphere need to give serious thought to finding a way to use both our collective voices... and our collective wallets... to preserve our rights. This is one time where we absolutely MUST be more nimble than big business and big government. Hellooooooooo??? Anybody out there?
(A tip of the cap to the Instapundit.)
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Roadside Diner
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Rules of the Road
Given this new piece of news today, I'd say the blogosphere is in for some heavy-duty legal attacks -- both by the government and by large corporations.
I understand Patrick's moral and legal stand on not signing the petition. I'd rather take the Kim du Toit approach to conflict, and have a whole arsenal of weapons at hand, rather than just moral and Constitutional rights. (Clearly neither have any effect on the Court system these days.)
My mother always says you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar. Diplomacy can be a great weapon, if it's used correctly. Wrapping yourself in righteousness and the American flag can be a good weapon too, if, you have sufficient, positive media attention. Carrying a big legal stick and having sufficient cash to pay for it would be an even better weapon.
Here's my question for the big guns -- right, left and center -- should we all be considering forming some kind of a non-profit organization to collect money to be used in cases where a blogger is currently being overwhelmingly outgunned for exercising his/her first amendment rights simply because they lack the cash to mount an adequate defense?
The Cat Fanciers' Association and the American Kennel Club have legislative defense funds. Why shouldn't bloggers have a legal/legislative defense fund, for cripes sake?
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Roadside Diner
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The End of the Line
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The Mom Update
Thank you also for your prayers for Miss Elva, who went into the arms of the angels this morning. I know it meant the world to Rob and his family.
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Bus Fumes
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Gordon is also responsible for my falling in lust with this little item. I want one of those suckers for days when I've really got my undies in a bunch. Sometimes there's nothing more satisfying than decimating inanimate objects.
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Rubber-Necking
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Maybe now we'll see what Michael Schiavo is really made of. (A tip of the cap to Mrs. Greyhawk.)
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I might just have to go see this exhibit. I'll either really enjoy it... or be really wierded out. Funny, but the concept doesn't make me squeamish, because each of the people who donated their bodies for this project knew exactly what they were doing when they signed on the dotted line.
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Bus Fumes
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Miss Elva's not doing too well, and Rob is having a really bad day. Keep on praying for his whole family.
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Rubber-Necking
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Can you say “anger management issues”?
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Not even with a cardiologist, a defibrillator, a boat load of epinephrine and a pain management team would I have attempted this. Not at home. Not at a spa. Not anywhere. I know better than to mess with the Tender Vittles like that.
(Did you know, by the way, that it's possible to be curled into the fetal position in sympathetic pain and laugh your ass off simultaneoulsy?)
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Chartered Excursions -- Moscow
Bus Fumes
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He gets to clear his conscience and immunity from prosecution??? Unbelievable.
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Drive-Bys
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Well, this would be just the nuts.
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Karma. It's a wonderful thing.
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My Blogdaddy hit the bigtime. Who knew?
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Makin' a List
This (Easy, you say? Hah!!! I'd have to bribe the author with some mighty big bucks to finish the damned thing already.)
This (The Super V-8.)
This (Ahhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
One of these (And the time to train it correctly.)
And one of these.
(That, Santa, would make me very happy.)
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Chartered Excursions - Wrekyll in Jekyll
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Road Rage
Buckaroo Bonsai is still laughing at my preferred method of anger management -- I chopped the heck out of a head of cabbage and made a boatload of some mighty fine slaw. (He wouldn't have been laughing if he'd seen the size of the knife and the gleeful way in which I was wielding it.)
I feel better now. (Try it. It works.)
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Book Your Ticket
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The Mom Update
My cousin "D" from Boston should be arriving right about now to take care of her for the next week. Since he's been out of work for a while and has a teenaged daughter at home, he's considering this a blessing.
I'm relieved on one hand that she's got someone who'll sit on her when she tries to do too much. (And, knowing her, she will.) On the other hand, I am more than a wee bit pissed.
Why, you ask? When my dad was diagnosed with leukemia, my sister and brother flew down to Florida immediately. My mom asked me to hold off, as she figured she'd need me later. Keith took a couple of weeks off to be with them. Heidi took family medical leave time to be with them. It was eight weeks before I finally got my turn. And I had to sit on my thumb, hold my tongue, worry like Hell in the meantime. Worse, I had been alone for a long time and didn't have anyone at home to let off steam with. Let me tell you, that's an empty, lonely, awful feeling. Both Keith and Heidi have spouses to go home to and commisserate with. It was a relief when Mom and Dad finally came back to Illinois and Dad had hospice care at home. At least then I could go out to the 'burbs every night after work, and hold his hand through the night.
This time around, Heidi is up to her neck in end of year stuff at work, and Keith is tied down until the last snow flies, as his winter business is plowing. I told Mom that I have both vacation time and family medical leave time available, my bosses are more than sympathetic, and I was ready, willing and more than able to fly down at the drop of a hat.
Nope. Somebody else gets to go. AGAIN.
Mom's reasoning? My vacation time is "precious" to me. If that isn't bullshit, I don't know what is, and I told her so in no uncertain terms. She's my mother, she has inopperable lung cancer, and no one and nothing on the planet is more precious to me than her right now. She changed my diapers, wiped my snotty nose, tanned my backside when I needed it, protected me like a tiger, and raised me to be a loving, responsible adult. She's still trying to protect me from seeing the ugliness in life... instead of letting me be that loving, responsible adult.
Dammit to Hell, I am royally pissed at the moment. Thank God that I've finally got a great guy like Buckaroo Bonsai in my life right now. Otherwise, I'd be in a real fury and pitching furniture out the second floor window.
Okay. End of pity party. I'm going to put on my happy face again, and be thankful that she's home and getting a little stronger every day. (It's a good thing, as I'm probably going to strangle her when she's strong enough to have a conversation about this. And we will, too.)
Keep those prayers coming. Mom's going to need them.
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Also remember Miss Elva, who is coming to the end of her race. And say a prayer for Rob and the rest of his family. I know they appreciate it, too.
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The Mom Update
Fortunately a good friend of hers told her that she also had a run-in with pneumonia not too long ago, and didn't follow instructions and get enough rest. Sure enough, the repercussions were not good. I think She-of-the-Selective-Listening has gotten the message loud and clear. (I hope.) If not, I've threatened to go down and sit on her for a few days.
I know it sounds kind of corny, but I really am grateful for all the prayers that have come our way. I hope you know that if you ever need them, I'll send them out for you, too.
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In the meantime, Rob's mama is going downhill fast. It wasn't that long ago that we went through this with my dad. That horrible, dreadful feeling of knowing what's coming and being totally helpless to do anything about it cuts like a knife. Say a prayer for Rob's family, too, please.
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Tootin' the Horn
Aunt Dimity Snowbound, by Nancy Atherton
Chopping Spree, by Diane Mott Davidson
A Playdate with Death, by Ayelet Waldman
The Sunday Philosophy Club, by Alexander McCall Smith
The Persian Pickle Club, by Sandra Dallas
Now all I have to do is finish off Billy Wilder in Hollywood, by Maurice Zolotow, and then I can indulge myself shamelessly in easy-to-consume books and vino, Buckaroo Bonsai and the girls (who are getting along like a house on fire). Yahoo!
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Rubber-Necking
Roadside Diversions
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Carnival of the Vanities. Go see what other bloggers think is their best writing of the week.
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Drive-Bys
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Just when you think the right and the left will never get along, something happens to make even the strangest bedfellows hold hands and sing "Kumbaya" Huh. (BTW -- I'm with Patrick here.)
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I think there were only two things here that I couldn't say "yes" to. Jeeze!
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Okay, I'll bite:
You're supposed to bold the ones you haven't done. Stolen by the Evil White Guy from Princess Kimberly...
I’ve Never Kissed A Member Of The Opposite Sex.
I’ve Never Kissed A Member Of The Same Sex. (Unless a smooch on the cheek doesn't count.)
I’ve Never Crashed A Friend’s Car.
I’ve Never Been To Japan.
I’ve Never Been In A Taxi.
I’ve Never Been In Love.
I’ve Never Had Sex In a Public Place.
I’ve Never Been Dumped.
I’ve Never Done Cocaine.
I’ve Never Shoplifted. (But I was 5 years old and it was a roll of Necco wafers, okay?)
I’ve Never Been Fired.
I’ve Never Been In A Fist Fight.
I’ve Never Had Group Intercourse.
I’ve Never Snuck Out Of My Parent’s House. (Just wasn't possible -- Dad was the lightest sleeper on planet Earth.)
I’ve Never Been Tied Up. (Playing cowboys and indians with the McCluskey boys.)
I’ve Never Regretted Having Sex With Someone.
I've Never Been Arrested.
I’ve Never Made Out With A Stranger.
I’ve Never Stolen Something From My Job.
I’ve Never Celebrated New Years In Time Square.
I’ve Never Gone On A Blind Date.
I’ve Never Lied To A Friend.
I’ve Never Had A Crush On A Teacher or Professor.
I’ve Never Celebrated Mardi Gras In New Orleans. (And probably won't. I get claustrophobic in crowds.)
I’ve Never Been To Europe.
I’ve Never Skipped School.
I’ve Never Slept With A Co-Worker.
I’ve Never Cut Myself On Purpose.
I’ve Never Had Sex At The Office.
I’ve Never Been Married.
I’ve Never Been Divorced.
I’ve Never Had Sex With More Than One Person Within The Same Week.
I’ve Never Posed Nude.
I’ve Never Gotten Someone Drunk Just To Have Sex With Them.
I’ve Never Killed Anyone.
I’ve Never Received Scars From My Sex Partner.
I’ve Never Thrown Up In A Bar.
I've Never Taken a Hallucinogenic Drug.
I’ve Never Purposely Set A Part Of Myself On Fire.
I’ve Never Eaten Sushi.
I’ve Never Been Snowboarding.
I’ve Never Had Sex At A Friend’s House While They Were Throwing A Party.
I’ve Never Had Sex In A Dressing Room.
I’ve Never Flashed Anyone.
I’ve Never Met Anyone From Online.
Who's next?
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The Mom Update
So... no more chemo and certainly no radiation until she's completely recovered. And even then, it's the big "we'll see."
Clearly, she's not going on a cruise any time soon. The big question is, when will she be well enough to be released, and will she need some help for a while after she is. I may be headed to Florida sooner than I anticipated. I really hope she'll actually accept the assistance.
Please keep Mom in your prayers.
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And while you're at those prayers, Miss Elva isn't doing so well. My heart goes out to Rob, as we went through this with my dad not to long ago. Pray for both of them, please.
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Bus Fumes
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The Mom Update
Again, a million thanks for all your prayers.
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BTW -- If you've still got room for a prayer, please say one for Rob's mom, too. Right now she needs it even more than my mom does. (And thanks, V-Man for those lovely words about Miss Elva.)
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From the Rowdies in the Back of the Bus
1. After putting her grandchildren to bed, a grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. At last she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice, "Who was THAT?"
2. A mother was telling her little girl what her own childhood was like: "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods." The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"
3. My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?"! I mentally polished my halo while I asked, "No, how are we alike?" "You're both old," he replied.
4. A little girl was diligently pounding away on her father's word processor. She told him she was writing a story. "What's it about?" he asked. "I don't know," she replied. "I can't read."
5. I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors yet, so I decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color it was. She would tell me, and always she was correct. But it was fun for me, so I continued. At last she headed for the door, saying sagely, "Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these yourself!"
6. A Sunday school class was studying the Ten Commandments. They were ready to discuss the last one. The teacher asked if anyone could tell her what it was. Susie raised her hand, stood tall, and quoted, "Thou shall not take the covers off thy neighbor's wife."
7. Our five-year-old son Mark couldn't wait to tell his father about the movie we had watched on television, "20,000 Leagues Under the Sea." The scenes with the submarine and the giant octopus had kept him wide-eyed. In the middle of the telling, my husband interrupted Mark, "What caused the submarine to sink?" With a look of incredulity Markreplied, "Dad, it was the 20,000 leaks!"
8. When my grandson, Billy, and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects. Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy whispered, "It's no use, Grandpa. The mosquitoes are coming after us with flashlights."
9. When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not sure." " Look in your underwear, Grandma! ," he advised. "Mine says I'm four."
10. A second grader came home from school and said to her mother, "Mom, guess what? We learned how to make babies today." The mother, more than a little surprised, tried to keep her cool. "That's interesting," she said, "How do you make babies?" "It's simple," replied the girl. "You just change "y" to "i" and add 'es'."
11. Subject: Children's Logic: Give me a sentence about a public servant," said a teacher. The small boy wrote: "The fireman came down the ladder pregnant." The teacher took the lad aside to correct him. "Don't you know what pregnant means?" she asked. "Sure," said the young boy confidently. "It means carrying a child."
12. A grandmother was surprised by her 7-year-old grandson one morning. He had made her coffee. She drank what was the worst cup of coffee in her life. When she got to the bottom, there were three of those little green army men in the cup. She said, "Honey, what are these army men doing in my coffee?" Her grandson said, "Grandma, it says on TV - "The best part of waking up is soldiers in your cup!"
13. Susie Sunshine asked her Sunday School class to draw pictures of their favorite Bible stories. She was puzzled by Jimmie's picture which showed four people on an airplane, so she asked him which story it was meant to represent. "The flight to Egypt." said Jimmy. "I see, and that must be Mary, Joseph and Baby Jesus," Susie said. But who's the fourthperson?" "Oh, that's Pontius - the Pilot."
14. A nursery school teacher was delivering a station wagon full of kids home one day when a fire truck zoomed past. Sitting in the front seat of the fire truck was a Dalmatian dog. The children started discussing the dog's duties. They use him to keep crowds back," said one youngster. "No," said another, "he's just for good luck." A third child brought the argument to a close. "They use the dogs", she said firmly, "to find the fire hydrant."
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ELEMENTARY BIBLE SCHOOL TEST ANSWERS. INCORRECT SPELLING HAS BEEN LEFT IN.
1. IN THE FIRST BOOK OF THE BIBLE, GUINESSIS. GOD GOT TIRED OF CREATING THE WORLD SO HE TOOK THE SABBATH OFF.
2. ADAM AND EVE WERE CREATED FROM AN APPLE TREE. NOAH'S WIFE WAS JOAN OF ARK. NOAH BUILT AND ARK AND THE ANIMALS CAME ON IN PEARS.
3. LOTS WIFE WAS A PILLAR OF SALT DURING THE DAY, BUT A BALL OF FIRE DURING THE NIGHT.
4. THE JEWS WERE A PROUD PEOPLE AND THROUGHOUT HISTORY THEY HAD TROUBLE WITH UNSYMPATHETIC GENITALS.
5. SAMPSON WAS A STRONGMAN WHO LET HIMSELF BE LED ASTRAY BY A JEZEBEL LIKE DELILAH.
6. SAMSON SLAYED THE PHILISTINES WITH THE AXE OF THE APOSTLES.
7. MOSES LED THE JEWS TO THE RED SEA WHERE THEY MADE UNLEAVENED BREAD WHICH IS BREAD WITHOUT ANY INGREDIENTS.
8. THE EGYPTIANS WERE ALL DROWNED IN THE DESSERT. AFTERWARDS, MOSES WENT UP TO MOUNT CYANIDE TO GET THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
9. THE FIRST COMMANDMENTS WAS WHEN EVE TOLD ADAM TO EAT THE APPLE.
10. THE SEVENTH COMMANDMENT IS THOU SHALT NOT ADMIT ADULTERY.
11. MOSES DIED BEFORE HE EVER REACHED CANADA. THEN JOSHUA LED THE HEBREWS IN THE BATTLE OF GERITOL.
12. THE GREATEST MIRICLE IN THE BIBLE IS WHEN JOSHUA TOLD HIS SON TO STAND STILL AND HE OBEYED HIM.
13. DAVID WAS A HEBREW KING WHO WAS SKILLED AT PLAYING THE LIAR. HE FOUGHT THE FINKELSTEINS, A RACE OF PEOPLE WHO LIVED IN BIBLICAL TIMES.
14. SOLOMON, ONE OF DAVIDS SONS, HAD 300 WIVES AND 700 PORCUPINES.
15. WHEN MARY HEARD SHE WAS THE MOTHER OF JESUS, SHE SANG THE MAGNA CARTA.
16. WHEN THE THREE WISE GUYS FROM THE EAST SIDE ARRIVED THEY FOUND JESUS IN THE MANAGER.
17. JESUS WAS BORN BECAUSE MARY HAD AN IMMACULATE CONTRAPTION.
18. ST. JOHN THE BLACKSMITH DUMPED WATER ON HIS HEAD.
19. JESUS ENUNCIATED THE GOLDEN RULE, WHICH SAYS TO DO UNTO OTHERS BEFORE THEY DO ONE TO YOU. HE ALSO EXPLAINED A MAN DOTH NOT LIVE BY SWEAT ALONE.
20. IT WAS A MIRICLE WHEN JESUS ROSE FROM THE DEAD AND MANAGED TO GET THE TOMBSTONE OFF THE ENTRANCE.
21. THE PEOPLE WHO FOLLOWED THE LORD WERE CALLED THE 12 DECIBELS.
22. THE EPISTELS WERE THE WIVES OF THE APOSTLES.
23. ONE OF THE OPPOSSUMS WAS ST. MATTHEW WHO WAS ALSO A TAXIMAN.
24. ST. PAUL CAVORTED TO CHRISTIANITY, HE PREACHED HOLY ACRIMONY WHICH IS ANOTHER NAME FOR MARRAIGE.
25. CHRISTIANS HAVE ONLY ONE SPOUSE. THIS IS CALLED MONOTONY.
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