Yellin' for Ellen

I like Ellen DeGeneres.
I like stand-up comedy.  Unlike many of her contemporaries, her act is somewhat clean and more family-friendly than what's considered the norm.
And she's funny.
I also self-identify as a Christian.  And I know that Ellen is openly gay.  This was pretty much a forgotten issue since she came out in 1997, marking the occasion by kissing another woman on her now-former sitcom.  Working at a small radio station in northern Michigan, I made sure I called the NBC television affiliate to see if they were going to air or pre-empt the show for that evening, as I was going to make it a news story.
"We're airing it," said the station manager. 
People made noise about it.  But it didn't take long for the dust to settle.
The show aired in just about every television market in the country.  It turned out to be not that big a deal.
Now she has her own daytime TV talk show.  Highly-rated, I might add.
We forgot about Ellen's personal life.  Or we just chose to live and let live.  Ellen is highly regarded as a genuine person who seems to care about others and not resort to tabloid-grade garbage, preferring to keep it real.
One Million Moms has not forgotten.  This upstart conservative Christian group is threatening to launch a boycott campaign against JCPenney for hiring Ellen as their new spokesperson.
They must have hired the Westboro Baptist Church as their publicist.
When I watch or hear a commercial for JCPenney, or see an ad, the last thing I think about is their spokesperson.  I'm looking for deals on shirts and shoes.  I could care less about the face or name in the ad slick, to be honest with you.
OK, maybe if it were Charlie Manson, I'd reconsider.  But come on, we're talking about a mass murderer versus a woman who just happens to like other women.
As I said, I self-identify as a Christian.  I know my Bible.  I know what the book of Leviticus says about homosexuality.
Leviticus 19:18 also says something that I find in conflict with that.
I also know Matthew 7:1.  And I believe One Million Moms should take a second look at it if I were them.
I will leave that part up to God. 
And so should they.


NEXT WEEK:  All Washed Up

Snow Excuses

Though we're in one of the mildest winters we've seen in western Pennsylvania for some time, every once in a while, Old Man Winter rears his ugly head and forces me into the garage to fire up my tractor.
Not that my arm really needs twisting to do this.
I hate snow, but I don't really mind going out for the cleanup.
Because I have the tools to do it well.
I have a 12 horsepower Gravely tractor.  Anyone who's heard of the name Gravely knows exactly what these tractors are and what they can do.  After the last of the grass-cutting season, I pull off the mower deck and hook up the snow blade.
So I don't have to come up with excuses to not clear the snow.  In the event the tractor doesn't work, I have a snow blower as backup.
And I know my neighbors aren't as fortunate as me to be this well-equipped for western Pennsylvania winters, fickle as they may be.
So I share the love.
My next door neighbors are a great example.  The teenage boy is usually in the driveway trying to dig his family out by hand.  I learned of this one Saturday morning after coming back from breakfast with my wife and daughter after I had plowed our own driveway just a few hours before while it was still dark.
There was Brian, struggling with the shovel as we were pulling in the driveway.  Margie and I looked at each other.
"Should I go bail him out?" I asked her.
She nodded.  "That would be nice."
I put the truck in the garage and shouted over to him.
"Hey Brian...go in and get warm.  I'll dig you out."
You would have thought I saved him from the electric chair right then and there.
He quickly rests the shovel against the porch.  "Thanks!  Thanks a lot!"
Don't mention it, kid.
I fire up the tractor and make my way next door, plowing out the driveway lane and what I can get of the area in front of the garage.
I still have gas in the tractor, and the neighbor on the other side of me has his cars strategically placed where I can get the tractor around them.
Not sure if that's by accident or design, but I take care of him too.
I don't do it for money or reward.  It's just what you do.
Neighbors helping neighbors.  The strength on which communities are built.
When it comes to snow removal, my dad's no exception.
Only he does it better.
He's got a skid-steer loader...what some call a Bobcat.
Don't have room in the garage for that.

NEXT WEEK:  Yellin' for Ellen

Drug Store

"I don't know why they don't just legalize it."
"There'd be less congestion in the court system if they'd quit fighting it."
"Nobody OD'd on marijuana."
All valid arguments.
Yet it is still illegal in the United States.
Some states have exemptions for medical reasons.  Oh, who hasn't tried to work that angle and exploit it?
It's illegal because like most recreational drugs, they're destructive to society.
Or to keep it simpler...the same reasons why we don't sell alcohol (at least legally) to anyone under 21 years of age or tobacco to anyone under 18.
It's all about responsibility.
Crimes are committed with alcohol, yes.  But how many more are committed under the influence of controlled substances?
And much more violent.  The subculture that engages in the illegal drug trade is one fraught with peril.  Cash only, weapons are often involved.
If we legalize marijuana, then it sets a precedent for cocaine, heroin, and other such substances.
Why do we need such substances to begin with?  Is life that difficult to bear that we have to self-medicate time and time again?
And let's not forget that it hurts families...the ones who choose not to use.
A young couple exercising what they feel is their 'right' to live their lives the way they see fit.  Their house littered with bent, burnt spoons, used needles and dirty syringes, while a hungry baby cries from her crib upstairs, because Mommy traded her WIC check so she could push off.
Or maybe a working husband of above-average means who can't give his wife and children a plausible reason why the electricity was suddenly shut off.  Or who that shady-looking character was that he was speaking to in the driveway in the middle of the night.
Drugs kill people.  They hurt families.
If life hurts that much, and the drugs make the pain go away, here's a suggestion:
Overdose.
That way the pain goes away forever.  Makes sense, doesn't it?  And you've done society a favor.  I'll be the first to say thank you.
Too harsh?
Then get help.
Get it now.
And walk away from that life forever.

NOTE:  If you or someone you love is suffering from a substance abuse problem, and you are a Pennsylvania resident, click this link: 

http://www.portal.state.pa.us/portal/server.pt?open=512&objID=14221&mode=2

NEXT WEEK:  Snow excuse

Pennies from Heaven

More than a decade ago, not long after the family cat died after 14 years, my younger brother brought a barely-year-old golden Irish Setter home to my parents. 
He said if they didn't want her, he'd be willing to take her.  He adopted her from the Washington County Humane Society just before the deadline came before her time to be euthanized.
Though they had said they were done with pets, they quickly changed their minds.  Especially after Mom learned that she didn't have a name, and that it was up to them to give her one.
"Penny" was what she was ultimately christened, because of the color of her coat. 
Penny arrived prior to grandchildren for them, so until 2005, she enjoyed pretty much having the run of the house.  Then came the grandson in 2005 and then a granddaughter four years later.
Now in her advancing years, Penny's had to learn to acclimate to having young kids in the house, and having to dodge playfulness from small people
that feel compelled to ride, climb or twist her tail.
The poor dog lives in Hell each weekday afternoon and every Sunday. 
Despite this, she remains very protective of she's accustomed to seeing on a near-daily basis in the house.  My parents and the grandkids too.
Unfortunately, no one can offer her the same protection in return...especially from what's ultimately going to put her in the ground.
Penny has been suffering from cancer for the past year now.  While she still gets around well, it's slower than her norm, and regular trips to the groomer are no more, as the lumps under her coat are so numerous that any movement from an electric trimmer can hurt her.
I see the dog toys in a corner of the living room.  The metal food and water dishes in a corner of the dining room.  "Her" chair at the dining room table that she climbs upon to gaze out of the picture window into the front yard.
My mom requesting me to pick her up some Beggin' Strips snacks on my next trip to Sam's Club.
These will all be memories before long.
How do we thank the members of the family who do so much for so little, yet live only a fraction of the years we do?
Do they understand 'thank you'?  A hug?  Maybe an extra treat in the dish? 
Do we understand them?  Really?
If they could talk.
Maybe that's their appeal...the fact that they don't.  The only sounding board some people have when they go home at the end of the day.
A listening ear.
It's amazing how a pet can do something so well humans fail at miserably at times.
Thus the reason we need them as an example.

NEXT WEEK:  Drug Store