Posted in In my humble opinion...

The Dawdler 3/9/23 Don’t Mess with History

Rory has asked more questions.

Have you ever watched a long-running televised series from start to finish, and once you have reached the end, you wanted to watch it again or is once enough for you and time for a new long-running series?

No. There were many that I enjoyed but my time and interests have always been fluid. As I dislike schedules, to interrupt life to sit in front of a TV at a specific night and time, wasn’t a high priority for me. Once shows went into syndication, it was a delight to happen upon episodes that were new to me, though.

Do you think traditions are essential to society – if so, why and if not, why not?

Absolutely and unequivocally, “Yes”. Traditions are the glue that binds a society and country. That alone is a sound reason for limited and merit-based immigration practices. To dilute traditions, endangers the whole of a society. IMHO… Immigrants must show an interest in assimilation or be denied.
For anyone gasping over this, assimilation doesn’t mean erasing any immigrant’s cultural or religious customs (In the case of the U.S.-unless they are directly ‘at odds’ with our Constitution).
Assimilation means there’s an importance for the immigrant to learn the primary language, respect that country’s laws and customs, and to raise their children to participate in the country’s traditions. [Otherwise, they are no more than tourists.]
I know of no country that allows for as many exceptions to their own traditions (even to the point of allowing the villainization of basic principles and historical records) more than the U.S. It will be our undoing and those who encourage those exceptions, are either ignorant of the lessons of history or maliciously promoting that division.

What would be easier to throw away deep love or deeply lined rich pockets – flipside – can money buy love?

There are many, many, kinds of love. Romantic love seems the most fragile, IMHO.
As for money ‘buying’ love, there are also many ways people define “love”. (IMHO… sadly a great many have never known ‘love’.) I assume some people think that it can be bought but it’s not me.

To me personally, money means very little, but for others, money is their security, status, power, and motivation for living. Those people are actually the most impoverished among us.

As for those ‘kinds’ of love, I would never suggest to anyone, who values their health, to test the depth of the bond of (most) fathers and mothers with their children or grandchildren. You won’t enjoy the outcome.

Posted in In my humble opinion...

In my humble opinion- Open Border Crisis

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As I was ruminating on the pros and cons of immigration and more specifically, our current situation, I think I’ve found a ‘real life’ allegory that seemed to put it all together.
Hear me out.
Birdfeeders are delightful things. The person maintaining them gets to enjoy doing ‘good’ and gets to see beauty that might never have been available otherwise. While the birds get a rewarding break from their fight for survival.
Yet, all good things have downsides.
Birdfeeders can become frequented by ill birds who, while benefitting from the ‘easier’ meals unintentionally infect the high volume of fellow visitors. If they hadn’t all been invited, many would have avoided that ugly result. (Think unvaccinated and/or unvetted criminals or terrorists.)
Furthermore, often after a daily schedule of visitors are established, predators show up. (Think cartels and human traffickers.) If you’re lucky, it doesn’t happen right away but sometimes birdfeeders become ‘killing fields’ because of opportunistic predators. A ‘something good’ turned into a ‘something really bad’.
Offering a small number of backyard birds a personal meal, tossed out by hand, at an unscheduled and sporadic timing seems a better way to prevent disaster while promoting a measured ‘greater good’. This sounds like a better immigration strategy for exactly the same reasons. Having a controlled and measured process is the far more humane approach.
It should also be noted that providing the birdseed needed for birdfeeders is expensive. I’ve had to give it up in order to buy my own necessities for that reason. (My bird feeding endeavors usually were only during migration periods offering passersby some support.) I felt bad but the art of ‘survival’ for anyone boils down to priorities of need in the proper order. Overwhelming our schools and public support systems seems a terribly self-defeating side-effect of something that (as I’ve described) doesn’t benefit the most people.
There you have it:
Open borders are not humane to anyone involved and ultimately birdfeeders seldom are either.

Posted in 6 Sentence Stories

Six Sentence Story~ NOT FAIR!


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Once upon a time a hard working community came together and labored side-by-side on a common project of setting stones, with loving care, in order to build a fountain unlike any mankind had ever known and after several generations and blood, sweat, and tears, they succeeded.

People from all over the world marveled at the fountain and that community- virtuously generous- shared access to the abundant water with all.

After a time, more strangers entered the community than there were original members, and builders, and not having invested in the toil and pride in the unique fountain, many disrespected and defaced it while trying to claim as much crystal clean water as they could.

A great debate took place among the elders with some deciding that sharing the water ought to be limited to only those who showed respect for the sacrifice and love that went into building the fountain and others complained that to limit access, by discriminating who gets water under any condition, would not be ‘fair’.

The fairness argument won and it wasn’t long before the fountain began to dry up and crumble from overuse and disrespect by those who had not invested time nor treasure in its construction, so, those strangers simply moved on seeking another generous community to plunder leaving that once happy community forever changed.

Even today that sad tale serves as a powerful warning: to discriminate between gratefulness and opportunism is prudent to survival and cries for ‘fairness’ are best left to 3-year-olds.

Sunday’s Six Sentence Story Word Prompt! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (
It’s Six Sentence Story Thursday Link Up! – GirlieOnTheEdge’s Blog (

Posted in Weekend-Contemplating Alone

Labels are for Canned Goods

A can of Koo baked beans.
A can of Koo baked beans. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We use labels, and need them, to organize and keep track of things. Ever have an unlabeled can? I have. Once when the label fell off of my green beans, I just put it on the shelf with my vegetables. My cupboards are subject to much shuffling. OK, I’m pretty unorganized and put things in my cupboards in order to stash them away from little kids (I do child day care.).

After awhile, I couldn’t remember if the beans were french style or whole. A small detail but something that I had thought I’d remember.

Then much more time went by. Yes, I was sure the unlabeled can was a can of beans but they were “hanging out” with my baked beans. It didn’t take very long before I was convinced the unlabeled can contained baked beans.

When putting together a meal, I avoided the unlabeled can. I like sure things and began to wonder what brand and flavor the shiny metal mystery held.

Finally, a day before doing my groceries, I was in need of something to accompany hot dogs. I felt adventurous and could see the time stamped expiration date on my mystery beans was rapidly approaching. Why not? I opened the can.

Carrots. What the heck?

I cannot explain what happened. In the imperfect world where labels come off, I had lost track and was operating under an assumption that I would have wagered money on. I was a victim of the old “shell game”.

As amusing as my untidy can goods cupboard is, I thought it held a lesson.

People don’t only use labels on can goods. We try to organize most everything…even people, into categories. The current state of politics has my head reeling. Liberal, conservative, libertarian, tea party, democrat, republican…Yikes. So many labels and, quite frankly, I don’t know which are green beans and which are baked beans anymore.(They might even be carrots!)

Every time I think I know the definition of these political labels, I find they don’t fit the individuals that I want to stick them to. Certainly, none of those labels describe me.

Even the one label, American, has its little asterisk. I read an article about the proposed Dream Act in Time magazine. It was written by an “illegal alien”. I must admit. The label Illegal Alien reminds me of short video clips of Mexicans rushing our borders which then brings the subject of drug cartels to my mind. “Hold on!”, my inner self said. “Read the article first. There just may be carrots where you thought were beans.”

The writer of the article was originally from the Philippines. He was brought here as a kid, has paid taxes, has gone to school, and has said the Pledge of Allegiance (and meant it) . Most of his family is “legal” and upon asking government officials how he might become legal they just plain don’t know how to answer him. You see, the immigration system IS and always was a mess of bureaucracy that they themselves cannot navigate. Kinda like our IRS by the way.

This cover story opened my eyes to one of the human issues involved with “illegals” and how the system is our greater enemy. I’m not in favor of an open border policy, by any means, but I’m glad I took the TIME to check my labels. 😉