Trucks

We like trucks.  In particular, we like these two trucks.  Typically, they would be considered "enemies".  A Ford and Chevy - not usually seen together.  One is mine (Chevy) and one is Aaron's (my 16 year old son)  (Ford).  They both come with a lot of baggage - good baggage.  Mine was bought new by my father, was the vehicle I learned to drive in, was owned by my brother, and now resides at my house.  It is a tangible link to a different time in my life and to someone I dearly loved but can no longer visit.  I may drive it, but it is still - in many ways - my dad's.  The Ford belonged to my daughter-in-law's grandfather.  We bought it from her grandmother after her grandfather had passed away.  His wife stood in the street and wept as we drove away but was consoled by knowing it was going to be kept in the family.  Jamey's father (my daughter-in-law) had driven the truck to his job on a daily basis.  He also passed away last year.  Both trucks are haunted by memories and filled with histories.  But, that is okay.  We drive them with gratitude and with the realization they will probably never really be ours. 

Blade

We saw these on a recent trip to Indiana.  They were on a train - and there were LOTS of them - I only captured the last of them with my phone camera.  It was a bit of a strange sight to pass all of these blades on a train - a place where they really do not fit. (Push the "play" button to see the video"

I am not sure how I feel about the windmills now populating the surrounding farm ground.  I don't like the way they look, but I do find them intriguing.  I am grateful for the jobs they have provided.

They are one thing to see from a distance, but a whole different thing to stand under one and listen to the "swishing" of the blades.  It gives me a bit of vertigo to stand right at their base.  They look robotic - sentinenals to progress.  I wonder what the folks who farmed the ground 50 years ago would think about it.  

Today

 

I took this picture through my telescope.  It was an American Airlines passenger jet headed south over my house late in the afternoon.  The technology amazes me - all of that weight cruising through the air at 30,000 feet going 550 mph.  It is phenominal. 

 

But, it is not simply a machine.  It is a vehicle full of people.  People going on vacation, people going to a funeral or a wedding, people who have business to do in another state, people who have never flown before and people for whom this is a weekly occurence.  Who are these people?  They are just like our neighbors, they are just like us.

 

And so it was, 11 years ago today, that people boarded these technological wonders never anticipating that they would be used as weapons.  Some of those people are now famous, but most are not and never will be.  They were ordinary people doing ordinary things who got caught in an extra-ordinary event.

 

It is not for nothing (forgive the double negative) that the Bible tells us to take it one day at a time.  This is the day the Lord has made.  Teach us, Lord, to number our days that we may apply our hearts toward wisdom.

 



Growing Up Poor

It seems to me that a recent theme of politicians is to proclaim how poor their parents were.  More often than not, candidates declare that their parents or grandparents immigrated to this country and rose up from the ashes of poverty to make something of themselves.  It is a commendable story.  But, it is not an uncommon story.  Most of us who are now middle-aged could probably repeat the same account.  I know that I could.  Both of my parents grew up very poor.  But, lots of Americans were very poor in the 20s and 30s.  The "Great Depression" was as devastating as it was wide spread.  The years following the second world war provided economic opportunity.  My mother became a nurse and my father became a fireman in the Air Force.  Both had "successful" careers and retired much more financially comfortable than their parents.  As a result, my brother and I grew up with a lot more than did my parents.  

Did my parents live the "American Dream"?  Yes, if that dream is one of being more prosperous than their parents or grandparents.  Did they work hard to provide a better lifestyle for their kids?  Again, I am grateful to say "yes".  I am very thankful for what they provided.  I had and have opportunities they did not have and I don't take those for granted.

But, to hear it told these days, financial prosperity or at least the opportunity to obtain financial prosperity is the greatest thing America has going for it.  It is arrogant for someone who has not lived in grinding poverty and felt the effects of hunger, lack of medical care, and unsafe housing to say that he hopes we have something more to offer the world than money and the opportunity to make it.  But, I do hope such a thing. Without character, money can become terribly corrupting.  

Here is a photo of the house my Mom grew up in until she was a teenager.  It did not look much better than this when she lived there.