Pink Slime – A Contrarian View
I am an emotional, passionate person. As a result, I tend to launch into things heart first, leaving my head to catch up, if it can. Sometimes, once my head catches up, it has to put a boot up my heart’s buttocks.
I wrote a piece in the recent past moderating my extreme position on corn and ruminants. I will be following up on that in the future, but for now, let’s allow that piece to stand as an illustration of how I sometimes see an extreme and rush to defend or occupy the other extreme before my head and core values bring me back to balance.
It is what I call ‘balance’ that irritates the life out of both my liberal and my conservative friends. I declare regularly that I am a Christian, conservative, Libertarian, Capitalist. The first of those is my anchor and my compass, the other three are engines and rudders that move and steer my values, opinions and views. It can make my ideas unnerving and irritating. I hope that they are also occasionally thought provoking and inspirational; perhaps even unifying. Hey, a guy can dream, can’t he?
When the ‘Pink Slime’ obsession hit (I should say re-hit, because it’s not new information) the airwaves a few weeks back, I joined my voice with the choir singing songs of revulsion and condemnation. I harmonized with the cries to ‘get that stuff out of our food system.’
I remember a few years back seeing a segment about ammonium hydroxide in either “Food, Inc.” or “Fresh, the Movie”, I can’t remember which and I’m too lazy right now to research it. I was repulsed then, and I’m repulsed now. ‘Pink Slime’ was one of the final nails that convinced me we were on the right road by raising and processing as much of our own food as possible. That way we knew where it came from and what was in it.
“Pink Slime”, for those who have been incommunicado for the past couple months, is the nickname for the by-product concoction of mechanically separated animal parts that have been treated with ammonium hydroxide. These are then colored, artificially flavored and mixed with regular ground beef, turkey, sausage, chicken, etc. and sold. Pink Slime is a part of many brands of chicken nuggets, pre packaged hamburgers and sausages, etc. It is also used by some fast food restaurants.
When the information recently (finally) caught the attention of consumer advocate groups, the fountains of the great deep broke forth in righteous indignation.
“This is unacceptable. We cannot allow people, especially children to eat this”, became the war cry across America and visions of “Soylent Green” flooded the minds of Baby Boomers everywhere.
As a result, supermarket chains and restaurant chains fell all over themselves to pull the products off the shelves and pinky swear never to sell such unacceptable fare to an unsuspecting, innocent public again.
As mentioned earlier, I participated in the outcry. I have since moderated my view, being driven back to the bounds of rationality by my core values. Please, as you sharpen your knives and ignite your flame throwers, allow me to elaborate.
First, I think Pink Slime is disgusting. It looks awful, it changes the nature of the food to which it’s added and it even has to be artificially flavored to make it palatable. In short, it is NASTY.
It has a right to exist, though. The stuff has passed every food safety hurdle imaginable. I hate the USDA, but in this case I believe them when they tell us that in its marketable form, the product is safe. It is repulsive to look at, but it is not making people sick, per se. (This is not the place to bring in health care costs, etc. Save it for another day, folks.) We are not reading about School Cafeteria hamburgers and nuggets making kids sick. Our ERs are not overflowing with football fans poisoned by imitation wings and riblets. America was just fine with it until we saw what was in the stuff. Millions upon millions are still fine with it, by the way.
It is not up to me, consumer advocate groups or the Government, to tell my neighbor what he can or cannot eat; or what he can offer as a marketable product for that matter. Can you hear the Libertarian Capitalist coming out now? It is not for you or me to determine what’s too disgusting for someone else to eat. I have friends from SE Asia, for example, who can’t stand to be in the room when Westerners eat dairy products. It makes them sick to their stomach to think we’d eat something as nasty as cheese or milk. They, though, are surprised at our revulsion at some tasty stewed monkey or a nicely slow roasted dog. Vegans think we’re all disgusting.
I saw a video clip on YouTube of celebrity chef, Jamie Oliver, demonstrating the nastiness of Pink Slime to a group of young school children by making some up right on the air. They “yucked” and “bleched” through the whole process, right on cue. The surprise came when Jamie fried the stuff up into nuggets then invited the children to dig in. The gobbled them up with delight, much to the horror and surprise of Chef Oliver.
As the supermarket chains race to take foods containing Pink Slime off the shelves and out of refrigeration cases or freezers, we can almost hear the gasp at check out as meat and poultry prices climb. In a single publicity project, we have priced cheaper meats out of the budgets of millions of households. Before you congratulate yourselves on your good deed, stop as ask what lower income families will replace that meat with. Do you think for one minute it will be Tofu or fresh zucchini and eggplant. No, it will be with Ramen Noodles and grilled Velveeta sandwiches or Hot Dogs.
The problem is not the existence of Pink Slime. The problem is the lack of transparency in advertising and labeling. Leave the stuff on the shelves. Stock it beside normal ground beef. Label it clearly and let consumers make educated choices. That’s how America works.
I choose to avoid Pink Slime like the plague. I’m not a fan of pigs eyeballs or chicken beaks under any circumstances. I don’t care how sanitized or artificially flavored they are. I raise and process my own meat (well, most of it) so that I know exactly what I’m eating. That way, no one sneaks a ‘mechanically separated’ carcass past me by mistake. What’s more, I will do what I can to persuade you from ingesting that foul concoction, either.
If, though, you look at the impressive technology that makes these meat substances, and you have no problem consuming them, I say, “Have it your way. Pass the mustard”.
To the stores, restaurants and marketers, I say, “You don’t have to take products containing Pink Slime off the market. All you need to do is label it and let us choose. We know how.”
To the consumer advocates and whistle blowers, “Thank you for bringing this issue to our attention. You get a gold star. Now, you’ve advised us, you’ve done your duty. Your business here is finished. Get out of my dining room.”
Governments, Churches and the Family Budget
Now there’s a Headline that has the potential to tick off almost everyone. It’s a gift I have.
Five years ago this month, my remarkably below average selling book, “IOU NO MORE” hit the market. I had high hopes for it, but some other simultaneous life changes prohibited me doing the aggressive marketing that success required. No big deal really. The material helped a lot of people and the principles are still true. Some of the content is dated now, but if you want a copy you can still get it from Amazon (There’s a Kindle version).
Last year, I updated the book and added a couple new thoughts, but decided not to publish it. I’m still considering making it available in an e book format. Time will tell. At any rate, Happy Birthday, “IOU NO MORE”.
The book’s principles would be very useful for Governments and Churches, too.
I read with dismay, the debates between left and right over how to get the economy going. Both sides may be right and both are definitely wrong. They are more interested in sound bites and pandering to their respective bases than actually addressing the national debt and getting the economy rolling again. They are interested in power and job security and very few have the courage to stand up and tell the whole, ugly truth. Senator Paul Ryan has tried, but neither side, nor the American public is interested. We can’t handle the truth.
I could fix the budget. Millions would hate me, at least for a while, but I could do it.
Budgeting is simple. It’s not easy, but it’s simple. When you have serious, crippling debt, there is one definite problem and one possible one. The definite problem is a spending issue. You are spending more than you earn. That’s automatic, beyond dispute. It is also possible that you have an income problem. You may actually need to earn more money.
In politics, the left is more willing to face the second factor, while ignoring, even berating the first. For the left, it’s always an income issue. We need more money, let’s raise taxes, especially on the rich.
That sounds good on the surface, it’s certainly populist, but it’s naieve and maybe even dangerous.
The right side of the aisle says we should cut taxes because tax cuts spark the economy. They talk about spending cuts with fiery zeal, but never do it, because too many members of their base would baulk at their favorite entitlements being affected. So, round and round we go, never progressing, always spinning and spiraling, ever downward.
The very first step to fixing a debt crisis is to STOP BORROWING! You’ve got enough of a problem with what’s already been borrowed. Stop trying to dig your way out of a hole. Is anyone in Washington listening? Anyone in America? STOP!
To fix a budget, whether personal, organizational or national, the next step is a debt assessment. We need to find out where we are. How much is coming in? Where is it coming from? How much is going out? Where is it going? To whom do we owe and how much do we owe each creditor? What are the minimum payments.
Now we do a budget. Every category has a name and every dollar is assigned. This is where we start to cut. We prioritize where our money goes. In a family budget, God comes first. He gets the first ten percent, then comes Food. In my U.S. budget, National Defense would rank very high.
As individuals, if we don’t eat, we become vulnerable to illness. As a nation, without a strong defense, our freedom and very existence is at risk. When I’m in debt, I cut the fat, I might not eat out as much, I rip the junk food out of the budget and the stupid squandering, but you gotta eat. Our national defense is more important than entitlement programs. But I digress.
I would go through the budget item by item in a zero based, rather than a line item budget. Every category has to defend it’s right to existence, every time the budget it done. Some categories must be eliminated, some must be slashed. Some must be reformed. For example, if I can’t keep the lights on, I can’t afford to go to the movies. Back when I was in debt, I did just the opposite. I had plenty of fun, but I repeatedly had my electricity cut off. Twice I had cars repossessed, but I went to the movies, concerts and night clubs without thinking twice.
In America, there are multiple categories of spending that should be eliminated. That’s a vote loser. Other categories need slashed to the bone. It’s uncomfortable, it’s unpopular, but it’s necessary for survival.
After every category is properly designated, prioritized and the necessary adjustments (cuts) are made, if there is still more going out than coming in, then additional income is required. In our case, my wife went back to work. Sometimes a second job is required. Other times all that’s needed is a good yard sale or some postings on Ebay.
From a national perspective, at this point, we may need to raise taxes for a while. We have to be honest. It’s not fun working two jobs to pay bills, but we got ourselves into debt, so getting out contains some discomfort. It won’t be fun paying more taxes, but it may be necessary. You’d better prove to me that it’s necessary by cutting spending first. Don’t try and snow me with mythical promised cuts that never transpire. Show me the cuts, then I’ll show you the money.
The two primary impediments to a successful family budget are: 1. unwillingness to change behavior and 2. a family not being on the same page. On a national level they are 1. Republicans and Democrats not being on the same page and 2. Americans not willing to change behavior. Most of us on the right are delighted with spending cuts, unless it touches our entitlements. Don’t touch Medicare or Social Security. Don’t go near Defense, etc.
The left is fine with taxing the ‘rich’, but don’t ever tax the middle or lower classes. Those rich people have to pay their fair share, but it’s not fair for my base to pay any share at all. How ridiculous.
We need leaders who are willing to be one term officials. We need men and women who are prepared to do the hard stuff and fix the economy, knowing it will be unpopular and that they may likely be voted out in a landslide at the end of their terms. We want to be Mayberry with Andy Taylor as Sherrif, but we might actually be Tombstone and need Wyatt Earp.
Oh, remember that those tax increases were temporary. When my wife and I got out of debt and were able to live on a single income, she quit her job to become a full time farmer. She was probably better off employed….
Any tax increases should follow spending cuts and have a deadline built in.
I’ve blethered on way too long, but bear with me for another moment or forty.
I would implement a consumption, rather than an income tax (read “Fair Tax”)
I would eliminate junkets.
I would open offshore drilling and drilling in ANWR.
I would immediately open the Keystone Pipeline Project.
I would make a deal with the auto makers that the first auto maker who could create a legitimate 50 mpg gallon (city) vehicle, would get all Govt. contracts for ten years.
I would then make similar deals with alternative, renewable energy companies.
I would implement Tort reform and term limits
I would reform Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, the Food Stamp programs and other Welfare.
I would implement a work for benefit plan into Welfare benefits.
I would abolish the USDA
I would privitize the TSA
I would close the borders tighter than drum for illegal immigrants and build a nice new, wide, welcoming door for legal immigrants
I would legalize drugs, tax the fire out of them and enforce DUI and similar laws with a zero tolerance policy
Until the Fair Tax could be implemented, I would lower the tax rate and eliminate tax deductions (flat tax).
These are just some of the reasons no one would vote for me.
I could go on, but now I’m starting to preach.
Speaking of preaching, I haven’t even started on Churches an money yet. Wait till next post!
I Blame My Mother
During my morning commute today, I took a little trip down memory lane thinking about some of my favorite hymns. I still love a lot of those old songs. Many have some awesome theology, others just remind me of my childhood. They stir such deep emotions in me.
Make no mistake; I totally adore some the more recent stuff, too. “Revelation Song”, makes me want to jump to my feet and fall on my knees all at the same time. Matt Redman’s “Ten Thousand Reasons”, makes my heart thunder in my chest. My current favorite worship song is “Grace Flows Down”. I can’t even sing it for the tears.
There is one old hymn, though, that has had more impact on me than any other song ever has. It has none of the drama or production quality of the tunes in the previous paragraph, it is a simple ditty by Ira Stamphill called, “Follow Me”.
I can’t remember the first time I heard my mother sing it, though I have memories of her singing it in the Aurora Indiana Church of Christ, before I ever started school. I tried to find a version on you tube to include as a link, but all of them were either weak or had too much chatter in the introduction. I didn’t really like any of them. I guess no one could sing it like Donna. Oh how I would love to hear her sing it one more time…. Who knows, maybe I’ll just record a version myself.
I love the song because it humbles me. I find it so easy to boast of my accomplishments or whine about my trials and the lyrics so eloquently bring me back to earth and point me to Jesus. The third verse was instrumental in my call to the mission field. To this very day, I can’t sing the first couple lines of that verse without choking up and weeping. Heck, I’m misting up just writing about it.
The day before I left for the mission field, way back when, Mamma sang it at my farewell service at Church. I cried like a baby.
I love attention. I crave the spotlight. The bigger the crowd, the more at home I am. This Gospel Song truly refocuses my priorities. It’s not about me, it’s all about Him. Life and ministry have always about the treasure, not the jars of clay.
If I could only accomplish one more thing in my life, it would be to have as many people as possible follow me to Him. Oh how he loves you and me.
Follow Me:
I traveled down a lonely road and no one seemed to care,
The burden on my weary back had bowed me to despair,
I oft complained to Jesus how folks were treating me,
And then I heard Him say so tenderly,
“My feet were also weary upon the Calv’ry road,
The cross became so heavy I fell beneath the load,
Be faithful weary pilgrim, the morning I can see,
Just lift your cross and follow close to me.”
“I work so hard for Jesus” I often boast and say,
“I’ve sacrificed a lot of things to walk the narrow way,
I gave up fame and fortune; I’m worth a lot to thee,”
And then I heard Him gently say to me,
“I left the throne of glory and counted it but loss,
My hands were nailed in anger upon a cruel cross,
But now we’ll make the journey with your hand safe in mine,
So lift your cross and follow close to me.”
Oh Jesus if I die upon a foreign field someday
‘Twould be no more than love demands, no less could I repay,
“No greater love hath mortal man than for a friend to die,”
These are the words he gently spoke to me,
“If just a cup of water I place within your hand
Then just a cup of water is all that I demand,”
But if by death to living they can thy glory see,
I’ll take my cross and follow close to thee.
When Problems are Too Big For Partisan Politics….
2012 is still new. There is still plenty of shine on it. It has all kinds of potential for good. As long as the election cycle doesn’t overshadow our opportunity.
Elections are important. They are also a necessary evil. We have a chance to participate in the process, so vote. We also get to live with the consequences of our decisions, so vote wisely.
Here’s the deal, though. Government will not fix a single real problem facing our country or our world. Their size, their needs, their divisions will forever mire them and keep us frustrated with them. Government is in the business of Government.
Inflation, unemployment, the ongoing real estate crisis, escalating divorce rates, poverty, hunger, rising costs of medical care; these are just a few of the mountains Americans are facing. We mistakenly think that somehow Washington is going to put their partisan differences aside and solve them. How foolish are we? The Republicans and Democrats have become so polarized that the party out of power will forever see their role as obstructionist. We may have lost the art of compromise forever. Wisdom has left the building.
The fact is, Washington never was, or never should have been, the answer. For people like me, the Church is much better positioned to help find solutions to our communities’ crippling economic, social and moral problems.
As individual congregations, we have agility and mobility to focus on the needs inside our fellowships, that the red tape of Govt. Bureaucracies could never allow.
Think about it for a moment. If each Family of Faith would concentrate efforts on finding creative solutions to the hunger, financial and health issues just within our own groups, we could reduce the load on Government, exponentially.
Now, let’s take that thought to the next level. If the Churches in any given community were to work together to solve mutual problems, our size, influence and wealth of our combined efforts would be a virtually irresistible force.
Let me cite just a couple of examples: 1. Let’s suppose all the Christian gardeners and farmers in a congregation united to create community gardens to help provide food security for the members of our congregations who were in need. Or, what if we tithed the produce from our gardens to our Church food pantry. What if we tithed our eggs, our chickens, our milk, our beef, our lamb, our pork; how much food could we provide?
What if we held classes in our Church buildings that taught people how to cook and prepare nutritious, whole foods and reduce the need the need for fast or highly processed foods in family diets. Now what if we taught them how to grow some of this food themselves. We could dramatically reduce poverty and health costs at the same time.
Sure, there is a certain percentage of the population who is not willing to help themselves. We have to live with that, but there is also a percentage who is more than willing, even desirous of being a part of our own solutions. We don’t stop offering a cure because some people want to stay sick.
Speaking of sick, imagine with me that all the Christian medical professionals in a given community, tithed their time to provide pro bono medical care for people in their congregations who could not afford it. How much medicaid and medicare money could be saved? Heck, how much fraud could be reduced?
Ok, one more; What if all the mechanics in a Church would devote time each week to do oil changes and basic maintenance on vehicles for the unemployed, single mothers, senior citizens and other financially challenged in the Church. How much money could be saved in the long run?
We can’t let the risk of abuse be our excuse for not following the Scriptural command to look after ‘the least of these’. A very large percentage of people Jesus himself served, apparently rejected Him or took their bread and fish for granted. In one example, Jesus healed 10 men of leprosy and only one even thanked Him. And that dude wasn’t even a Jew. It didn’t stop Him from healing or feeding though. How very radical.
Most of what I’ve described has been at a congregational level. Imagine for a moment, if Christians united to serve together. The force for change would dwarf a Tsunami. Our enemy knows that. He works overtime making sure the Church stays divided, because if we ever come together, the gates of Hell are toast.
Which brings me to a final point. The world needs Jesus much more than we need a conservative (or liberal, if that’s your orientation) Government. I don’t believe that the Republicans OR the Democrats will help us find Revival. And neither will prevent one, once it gets started. I’m just sayin’, vote, it’s an American privilege, but if you consider yourself a Christian, pray like the future depends on God and work like the future depends on you.
If you’re not a Christian, I dare you to give Jesus a fresh look. You might be surprised by what you discover.
Peace, y’all.
Of Dogs, Of Wolves, Of Monsanto and a Broken System – A Story
Imagine that you are a dog breeder. Maybe your choice is good hunting dogs. Perhaps you really like fancy show dogs. Either way, you have this female or females that you have worked with, trained, pampered and cherished. She is your pride and joy.
Down the road from you, there’s a rich guy who raises wolf hybrids. They are impressive, powerful, beautiful, unpredictable and maybe dangerous. All the neighbors have mixed emotions and conflicting views. Some really like his dogs and see potential in home security or defense or even things like draft work. Others are concerned that the hybrids may be more wolf than dog and can’t be trusted. Heck, what they’re breeding might even be immoral or illegal. You don’t really like what they’re doing, but you certainly believe in their right to pursue their goals. Besides, you’re busy with your own breeding program.
One night, a big wolf hybrid, slips out of his kennel, jumps over the fence, races down the street, leaps into your back yard and breeds your favorite female. He then heads home and no one is the wiser. Nine weeks later, your girl gives birth to a litter of cross bred puppies. Some of them are distinctly wolfish in looks and everyone realizes what happened.
“Oh, my gosh”, you think, as you stare at the little mongrels, “What do I do now? This was not a part of our plan.”
You are angry and frustrated, so you march down the street with the puppies in a box to show the owner of the offending animal and ask him to keep his dog at home.
You courageously ring the doorbell and state your case to the neighbor, trying to be as firm, yet polite as possible.
After you finish, he turns away, picks up a piece of paper off his table and hands it to you. At first you think he’s writing an apology or maybe even giving you a check to offset some of the vet bills that his wolf dog has inadvertently caused you. Instead, he hands you bill, demanding a stud fee.
Shocked and offended, you laugh, tear up the paper and head home, thinking to yourself that the rich neighbor has more money than sense, and probably has crossed the line between eccentricity and lunacy.
Life pretty much gets back to normal, with you raising the pups and hoping you will be able to find homes for them. The crazy neighbor incident is almost forgotten until one day there is a knock at your door. You open it to see the postman with a certified letter. You sign for the letter, wish the mail carrier a good day and open the package.
Inside, you find a summons and a letter announcing the rich nut case down the road is suing you for the stud fee.
You can’t believe your eyes; or the audacity of the man who filed the suit. You also can’t believe you’re going to have to pay out more money to get an attorney to fight this thing.
Your next thought is, ‘Maybe I’ll just pay the stud fee, shut him up and make the whole thing go away.”
You quickly realize, though, that if you do that, he wins. And who knows how many other neighborhood dogs would be accidentally bred? Would they get stud fee bills, too? What if he knows his hybrids are escaping? What if he planned it all along?
You have to fight this thing. You have to put an end to the outrage. So you get an attorney and go to court. Your case is cut and dried. Your property was violated; your dog was bred against your will and knowledge. There is no set of circumstances in which you owe the owner a single red sent.
At the end of weeks of hearings, the judge looks down from the bench and says, “After hearing testimony and reading the evidence, I find in favor of the plaintiff. The defendant will pay the stud fee.”
Stunned, both you and your attorney gape at the judge. You want to scream and ask him if he’s lost his mind. You wonder if he’s been bribed, is a drug addict or just plain stupid. Since, however, you can’t afford a contempt of court fine; you merely shake your head and file an appeal.
Appeals are expensive and time consuming. It would be cheaper to just pay the stud fee. You are considering doing just that when you hear that three other people in your neighborhood had the very same experience with the hybrid breeder. In each case, they paid the stud fee because they couldn’t afford the legal expenses. You decide it’s time someone made a stand. You are that someone.
Fast forward two years. You have spent your life savings and raided your 401k to pay all the legal costs fighting the stupid stud fee. In your wildest dreams you could never imagine that a single judge would side with the wealthy breeder of wolf hybrids. You thought the courts would actually shut him down. Now, though, the case has been taken up by the United States Supreme Court.
Finally, you think, justice will be done. Then you learn that one of the Supreme Court Justices was once the personal attorney for the neighbor you’re in court with. You presume he will recuse himself. You presume in error.
In the end, the SCOTUS finds in favor of your wealthy neighbor. You have spent all you have in the pursuit of justice and find it elusive. Now you, and every dog owner in America, are liable for paying stud fees anytime one of these wolf dog hybrids impregnates a dog. Property rights are negated. Boundaries are eliminated. Justice has been subrverted.
Does this story sound incredible to you? Perhaps even ridiculous? It shouldn’t. This is almost exactly what the Monsanto Company has done to farmers when their genetically modified soy beans have cross pollinated neighboring fields. And the SCOTUS has sided with them.
Justice Clarence Thomas, normally one of my heroes, was an attorney for Monsanto back in the 70s. He has not recused himself.
In another case, concerning deregulation of Genetically Modified Organisms, the original judge deciding in Monsanto’s favor is the brother of Justice Stephen Breyer. Astonishing.
I find the whole scenario offensive on a variety of levels. My bigger issues are not with Monsanto. They are who they are. I am mostly outraged at what has become of our legal system. I fear we are in free fall.
Back in the 80s, British Blues guitarist and singer, Chris Rea wrote a song about rush hour traffic that applies to this kind of legal/moral gridlock. The words are, “This ain’t no technological breakdown. This is the road to Hell.”
Juice Feast – Week 1 Review
The first week is behind me. Whew. That was hard. And it was boring as heck. Did I mention how boring it is? The juices are tasty enough, but there is no other sensory appeal. There is no real variety in texture, eye interest or even taste, really. There are only variations on a theme.
As a true food lover, I enjoy the look, the feel, the aroma and the complexity of a truly omnivorous diet. Food, to me, is much more than the intake of massive amounts of calories (although I’m pretty good at that part), it is a cultural, sensual, almost spiritual event. The preparation, the combination of artistry and science that makes up a meal, is part of the excitement. With the juices, it’s, what green will we mix with what fruit? Hmmm. Or, celery or no celery? Yawn.
The juicer clean up is a bore as well. If you don’t do it right away and the food bits dry, then you have a marathon on your hands. I find that it takes away from the experience a little bit.
The positives: first, I lost 11 pounds in 7 days. That’s a winner. It’s incredibly encouraging to see that kind of early success. It really helpt the motivation.
Also, as alluded to already, the juices taste good. I make sure there is some fruit in every juice. That really helps. Carrots add sweetness as well. In fact, the only thing Brittan and I didn’t like were beets. We found that odd, because we both love eating beets. Oh, well.
The boredom has led us to transition to juicing until evening and having a meal that includes protein and vegetables. I’ll keep you posted on how that goes.
Conclusion: Juicing is a great way to cleanse and kick start a healthy eating or weight loss program. It is a terrible way to try an liven up a party.
A Christmas Parable
Christmas: for some it’s cookies and candy and visions of sugar plums. For others it’s presents and family and joy and peace. For still others it’s a baby, a manger, some shepherds, a star and hope for the world. There are others, millions of them, for whom Christmas is heartache and loneliness, hunger and thirst, fear and despair.
I have been all of these.
This morning, as I fed the animals and did my farm chores, I was, in a manner of speaking, visited by three spirits.
A ghost of Christmas past came to me. He brought a thousand memories to mind. He reminded me of my childhood, filled with wonder and love and joy. I remember my sisters and I dragging Mom and Dad out of bed at some unholy hour because our little souls couldn’t take the suspense another minute. I remember Dad always wanting to eat breakfast before opening presents. I remember him being out voted most of the time.
The ghost then took me across the ocean, to Scotland and the magnificant memories of Christmases spent there. I saw again, the Church Christmas programs and those little Scottish Church buildings in Buckie and Portnockie filled to overflowing. I could see Doug and Denise in their jammies, tearing into presents while I tried desperately to pour caffeine down my gullet.
I smiled until the spirit fast forwarded me to my first Christmas alone. My house empty. My heart broken. My life in tatters. I saw my Christmas dinner of cheese on toast washed down with beer, then another for dessert; my pain too great for words.
There were far too many Christmases spent so. When I thought I could not bear to see another one, the ghost took me forward once more, and I saw my first Christmas with Brittan as she decorated our little house in Florida. Joy had come back into my life and for the first time in years, I hoped again. Oh, how I wanted to linger just a moment in that place.
In a flash, though, the spirit took me to other places and other Christmases, in Iowa, in Kentucky and in Maine. Some were tender and peaceful. Others were hectic to the border of manic. But each made me smile and a mist clouded my vision.
Suddenly, the ghost was gone, replaced by another, showing me this present Christmas. Not mine, though, but other places and other faces. There were children and ancients. There were a multitude of languages and a rainbow of races. But there were no smiles or carols or trees or presents. Prayers were being lifted and letter to Santa, each begging for food, for water, for shelter, for Daddy to come home, for Mommy not to be sick anymore. I saw Santa weeping in his sleigh, his bag empty, his chest heaving with grief.
Then the spirit took me to another place, a war ravaged desert. I saw children among the rubble. I could see across the way, a soldier, dust mingling with tears as he unwrapped a parcel that contained a framed photograph of a young woman and a golden haired baby girl. He held the photograph to his chest, sobbed in the silence then lifted his voice in what was either a prayer or a scream. I could not tell for sure.
I begged the ghost to allow me to help or to take me away, because I could not remain idle and maintain either my sanity or my morality. Instead, he disappeared and his place was taken by a third spirit. This one, ethereal, insubstantial, yet glorious and terrible all at once.
The spectre too my hand and lifted me high above the earth to a place of indescribible wonder. There was peace in this place. I could hear singing and laughter. I looked around and saw people everywhere, each contented, happy. As I toured the city, I became aware that although there were hundreds of thousands, millions of people, there was not a hospital, a cemetery or even police car to be seen. I marveled.
Suddenly, my path came to an abrupt end. I could see across an enormous canyon. On the other side, was the multitude of hungry, the sick and the broken I had seen before. Behind me was the happiest place my mind could imagine. In front of me was more heartache than my soul could endure.
I turned to the spirit who led me and asked, “Sir, why?”
“You know why, child. You’ve always known why.”
“How can they get from there to here? The gulf is so vast? It’s too far, too hard.”
“There is a path. Lead them. You know the way.”
“But they are too hungry to follow.”
“Then feed them.”
“They are too weak.”
“Then carry them.”
“Some are too sick.”
“Then heal them.”
“What about the ones too heartbroken to hear?”
“Weep with them.”
“What if they won’t follow?”
“Lead them anyway.”
At that point, the spirit handed me a book, a map, a bowl of rice, a trowel, a vial filled with some elixir and a washcloth. I took them from him, but wondered at their meaning.
“Take these and go to them. Beyond where you can see, there is another place, more hideous than anything you see before you. There are horrors and monsters there. Creatures and devils that feast upon the heartaches you can see now. They will soon devour the sick, the broken and the weary. Those they do not devour they will drag back across the abyss to their lairs to consume at their leisure. You have in your hands all you need to change the destiny of legions.”
I stared at the ghost, with a cocktail of emotions, ranging from fear to anticipation, and queried, “Sir, will any come with me? I am fearful that I will fail.”
“By choosing to go, you cannot fail. As to whether any will follow, I cannot say. Only One knows. Go, now. Feed, heal, comfort and lead.”
Then, as quickly as the scene had appeared, the spirit and the visions were gone. I was again in the barn, my arms filled with hay, goats and cattle calling out for breakfast. It was still dark outside. The day still young. No time had past. The future was in my hands. I wonder…
