Lift Up Your Hearts!

I've often wondered why tolerance is considered such a high principle these days.  Granted, I have many qualities that cause those around me to exercise forbearance; nonetheless, I hope for more in even a casual relationship than mere tolerance.  I'd rate our various neighborly relationships, for example, as great, good, casual, and tolerant, with the last being better than "nasty," but nothing to brag about.

Perhaps the preaching of tolerance comes because we have failed so badly at love.  Tolerance—at best—says, "I disagree with you, but it doesn't matter."  Love says, "I disagree with you, and it does matter, but I love you, and I choose to believe the best of you.  I will pray for you, encourage you, and seek out ways to work with you that do not violate my conscience.  I will be alert to any lesson God wants to teach me through you."

Lowering the bar is not the solution.  Redefining a C as an A rarely inspires higher performance.  Besides, we're not doing so well at tolerance, either.  With a hat tip to VP via Facebook, here's a lighter moment dedicated to all who have been slammed by the unloving who preach love, or by the intolerant who preach tolerance.

I hate using sunscreen.  It's sticky, it stinks, and if I get the water-resistant kind—what other is of any use?—I can't get it off my hands.  I try to avoid using it myself, and am, shall we say, less than generous when asked by someone else to "do my back."  As in "You want me to do what?  Can I walk across hot coals instead?  Please?"

Our trip to Hawaii may have changed my mind.  Advised by friends who had been there to invest in some SPF 50 sunscreen, we picked up some Ocean Potion.  I'd never heard of it, but it appeared to be the best choice.  I think so!  It turned out to have the most pleasant scent I've encountered in a sunscreen, and though it was water-resistant, did not feel oily, sticky, or any other kind of icky.  I found I didn't mind at all donning it for our beach or crater-crossing days.  Well, to be completely honest, I didn't mind as much.  But it was a great improvement.

I've been hoarding the remainder, assuming it was a brand local to Hawii, which was the only place I'd seen it.  But recent research has revealed that it is now available here, at Wal-Mart of all places.  Considering that Ocean Potion is made in nearby Cocoa, Florida, you'd think I would have run into it somewhere before.  Perhaps I had, but didn't "see" it because I didn't recognize the brand.  They also have an SPF30 version, which I plan to try out for latitudes more northern than Hawaii.

O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
An' foolish notion....

(from To A Louse, On Seeing One on a Lady's Bonnet at Church)

Robert Burns assumed that we hold higher views of ourselves than others do, but for many of us, especially women, the opposite problem can be devastating.  Here's the latest from Dove's effort on behalf of all the young girls—and older women—conditioned by airbrushed and photoshopped media to see themselves as ugly.

You can see the sketches, and learn more, at Dove's site.

You can criticize Dove for choosing women who are all good looking in the first place.  You can figure that the sketch artist let his knowledge of the program influence his sketches.  You can complain that Dove's message still assumes that "real beauty" is physical.  But even a small candle illuminates when the world is dark.

There's no use pretending:  60 is not young.  To say, "sixty is the new forty" helps a bit, but not much, because 40 isn't young, either—except to those of us breathing the rarefied sexagesimal air.

For anyone, at any age, life may be more than half over, but young people don't think about it much; perhaps that's part of what keeps them young.  But at 60, it's not just a possibility, but a certainty:  there are fewer days before us than behind us.  Still, that's not necessarily bad.  The days behind us are filled with experience, and through each one of them we have gathered knowledge, experience and wisdom.

Young children look forward to their birthdays, and it's not primarily because of the presents.  "I can't wait to be five," exclaimed my granddaughter recently.  The young know that the passage of time represents growth:  new knowledge, new abilities, new privileges.  As we age, we begin to forget this, because healthy growth is no longer so obvious and so apparently effortless.  I say "apparently" because close observation of little children reveals that even if we don't remember most of our own childhood efforts, growing up is very hard work indeed.

I suspect the crucial difference is not effort, but attitude.  Somehow—perhaps through years of compulsory schooling, the daily stresses of earning a living, or the distractions inherent in tending to our children's health and growth—we stop looking forward to each new day as the opportunity to learn, to grow, to acquire new skills and hone existing ones, to become more loving, patient, kind, gentle, and joyful people.

Aging brings limits, that can't be denied.  But it brings freedoms, too, that youth does not have, such as more resources, increased options, and a greater awareness of how we learn best.  We have a lifetime's worth of experience to build on, and a lifetime's worth of acquired wisdom to guide us.  "We're not getting older, we're getting better" is trite, and wrong.  We are getting older.  Nonetheless, because we are getting older, we can be getting better.

So, after all this, you think I'm turning 60?  Nope.  Passed that landmark already.  But someone I love very much is, indeed, turning 60 today.  For you, dear one, I wish a

Happy Birthday!

and many, many years of living, loving, learning ... and growing better.

Our choir anthem for April 21 was Lord, Listen to Your Children (Ken Medema, Jack Schrader, Hope Publishing, GC 850O).  Here's a recording.  (Just a reminder:  Unless otherwise noted, these performances are never us, but thanks to the wonders of YouTube, you can hear the song anyway.)

What made this anthem especially fun was our guest director, Carl MaultsBy.  My introduction to Carl MaultsBy came at the bishop's consecration, where he played the piano as we sang one of his compositions, so I was looking forward to this Sunday.  I love the way he worked with us, and if we never quite got the spirit he was hoping for in the piece, the joy in his piano playing more than made up for it.

To brighten your day, here's a brief look at Fred Rogers, of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, by the Menopause Guy.  (Yes, I know it's really Mental Floss.  But I hear what I hear.)

Here's my favorite picture of Mister Rogers, because he's with one of my favorite people.

You all know I'm not a sports person.  Would you believe me if I said that spending all day (more than 12 hours) at a sporting event last Saturday was an absolute blast?

Believe it.

The sport was Quidditch, and last weekend was Quidditch World Cup VI, held in Kissimmee, Florida.  As much fun as I had, I doubt I would have bothered to attend had not our nephew's University of Richmond team qualified for the event.  His parents came down for the occasion, and we had a great visit.  It was too short, but included a first:  conversing over dinner, just my sister, her husband, and the two of us.  It's not that we don't get together—but quiet dinnertime conversation is quite different from the usual lots of people of all ages, with lots of things going on.

For those who have not read any of the Harry Potter books, or for those who have, but are puzzled as to how the players learned to fly, here is a brief explanation of how the earthbound version of Quidditch is played.

A bald eagle stops to watch the game:  Hrmph.  Silly people, flying so low to the ground.  I'd put those hoops a lot higher.  Why didn't they ask me to play?  I can outfly the best of them!  At least they didn't charge me for this great seat.

Having watched the documentary on GMO foods, which reveals that those in charge of food safety in this country have treated with scorn the simple request that products made with genetically modified organisms be labelled as such, I have little faith that the Food and Drug Administration will not grant the request of the dairy industry to to alter the definition of "milk" to include chemical sweeteners such as aspartame and sucralose without putting "Low Calorie" or "Reduced Calorie" on the label.  The artificial sweeteners would still be included in the ingredient list on the packaging, but the main label, that which most people read, would give no hint that the product was artificially sweetened.

I say that even "low calorie" is disingenuous.  "Artificially Sweetened" or "Contains Sucralose" (Aspartame, whatever) ought to be in large, bold print on the package.  Once upon a time, "no sugar added" was synonymous with "unsweetened." Now we must drill down to the small-print ingredient list to find out this important information, and more than once I've been caught and ended up at home with a useless product.  It is as if the surgeon general's warnings were printed on the inside of cigarette packages.

Yesterday, Porter saw a male American redstart, in our backyard.  He was on his way to the West Indies, no doubt—they don't live here, only migrate through. I've never seen one—nor had I heard of one before yesterday, for that matter.  Roger Tory Peterson calls it the most butterfly-like of all birds, which is what caught Porter's eye from his office.

I know that's not earth-shattering news, but I'm finding this blog to be the best place to document things I'd like to be able to find again.  To save me from, "Um, what was that new bird you saw in the backyard a few years (months, days) ago?"

In the spirit of Fruitless Fall, The Omnivore's Dilemma, Food, Inc., Everything I Want to Do Is Illegal, and similar stories about problems in our food supply, I present Genetic Roulette: The Gamble of our Lives (H/T DSTB).

I'm always a bit skeptical of one-sided documentaries, especially of the scary and countercultural kind.  But this look at the unforeseen consequences of the introduction of Genetically Modified Organisms into our diet, environment, and social structure is well-done and contains much food for thought, including the rise of herbicide resistance, decreasing yield, suppression of academic freedom, and the devastation visited on third-world farmers.  I had to watch in bits and snatches because the film is an hour and 25 minutes long, but I found it well worth the time invested.

Here's hoping my nephew will accede to the suggestion that he take on, as a school project, a balanced investigation of both sides of these claims.   If he does, and gives his permission, I'll report the results here.

Recently we bought a gauge for our propane tank.  I'm tired of guessing, especially during hurricane season, how much propane is left for our barbecue grill, and figured the gauge would soon pay for itself through more accurate fill-ups.  (The cost for filling a tank is the same, whether it is empty or almost full.) 

Usually the odd or outrageous statements that come with a product these days are found in the Warnings section, but this was in the instructions themselves (emphasis mine):

• If the needle is in the GREEN AREA (GAS) - the fuel supply is sufficient.
• If the needle is in the YELLOW AREA (LOW GAS) - the fuel is running in short supply.
• If the needle is in the RED AREA (REFILL) - the fuel tank should be refilled promptly - usually within 10 minutes of cooking time.

Huh?

For your amusement only, since I don't know the details of these tax numbers.  Highest bracket?  Average tax rate?  What other taxes do citizens pay?  But you can be pretty sure that other people have worse tax sitations than we do. (Click image for a clearer view.)

Most of the time, I love computers and all the wonderful things advancing technology has brought us.  But sometimes I feel like a friend of mine, who sent me a typed letter with this handwritten note at the bottom:

This is/was an e-mail.  I hit the wrong key.  It "saved" in My Documents, but I couldn't e-mail.  My solution—good old US postal service.  I understand they need the business.

I couldn't have better summarized my ambivalence toward high-tech devices.  Back in the 1970's, when I was paid to work with computers—yes, we did have computers back then, not that most people today would recognize them as such—I used to say that computers were half voodoo.  Now I'm sure they're up to 90%.

Anyway, the comment made my day, and Porter's too.

I’m sure there are more than a few problems with the President’s budget proposal, depending on one's point of view, but I'd like to comment on three that I think particularly egregious.  What we think of most issues depends, of course, on whose ox is being gored, and I’m not immune to that problem.  However, here are three provisions that I think are pushing our society as a whole in a decidedly wrong direction.

1. Not indexing Social Security benefits to inflation, but to another index that rises more slowly.  While most people are upset because this would significantly reduce benefits (how else can it significantly help the budget?), and of course this matters to me as well, because we’re reaching the age where we’ll be depending to some degree on those checks.  But that’s not my primary concern, which is that it would reduce the incentive for the government to curb inflation.  We’re already in the precarious position where inflation benefits the government in the short term—as it does most debtors.  This provision would make inflating our currency still more attractive, as the more the money inflates, the less retirees will receive in real income.
2. Limiting retirement savings.  Most importantly, this discourages saving.  Americans are already very bad at saving money; despite what the advertisers will tell you, this bodes ill for achieving a stable, healthy economy.  IRAs and other tax-deferred savings plans have been a good incentive in the right direction.  Note:  these accounts are not tax-protected or tax-free, as some articles are suggesting.  The tax is merely deferred until the money is withdrawn.  Under the President’s proposal,  "[s]uch accounts would be capped at $3 million in 2013 dollars—which officials say is enough to finance a $205,000-a-year income."  Do you believe that?  I don’t.  As my husband said, "I’d like the person who made that calculation to sell me a 30-year annuity backing up his words.  I dare him to guarantee a 6% return."  I doubt there’s anyone who would take that bet, unless he’s pretty sure we’ll have either a very strong economy or rampant inflation (see #1 above).
3. Limiting charitable tax deductions.  Capping the charitable deduction at 28%, while increasing the top tax rate to nearly 40%, will without a doubt decrease charitable giving in an age when it is increasingly needed.  Insist all you want that "real philanthropists" will give to charity no matter what, the truth is that the charitable tax deduction is more than just an incentive:  it means we have more money to give.  And as the Forbes article (link above) points out, "the Obama charity tax increase implicitly assumes, under cover of 'fairness,' that Washington will do a better job spending the money than private donors will.  But by encouraging philanthropy, we encourage imagination and innovation—in ways the political process, more likely to be constrained by conventional wisdom, will not."  What's more, the charitable tax deduction is a great investment for the government:  At the margin, forgoing $40,000 in tax revenue generates $100,000 in charitable donations.  Perhaps most worrisome of all is that encouraging citizens to turn over their charitable responsibilities to the government hinders the development of a just and caring society.

While it is clear that we need both spending cuts and tax increases to tackle our financial problems, not all cuts, and not all taxes, are equally valuable.  Put another way, some are more harmful than others.  These three proposals are a threat to the long-term health of our country.

I've started a new category, Music.  For now, it's a place for me to keep track of music we sing in choir, and other music that interests me.  I'll add YouTube videos when I can—almost never of us, but just so that we (and anyone else who is interested) can hear and remember the work.

For example, this past Sunday we sang My Eternal King (Jane M. Marshall, Carl Fischer #CM6752).