Mother's Day 2018 - Epilogue: The Wife of Noble Character

A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. She gets up while it is still night; she provides food for her family and portions for her female servants. She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Sweet Pea is like the proverbial* wife of noble character. She is strong in her quiet, steadfast support of Uncle Bubba. On this Mother's day, we should consider such things of each mother in the mindset of love and forgiveness. Mother's day began in the United States, at the initiative of a peace activist, Ann Reeves Jarvis who came to regret the commercialism and expressed views on how that was never her intention; she believed a mother is "the person who has done more for you than anyone in the world". Well, we all know that not all mothers are cut from the same mold, but we all came here through labor and birth. In Bubbie's view, we are commanded by God to love and forgive so it the responsibility of each of us to find honor in each of us and on this day, our mother.


*(Proverbs 31: 10-31)

Gub'ment Budget

Gub'ment Budget, HA! What a joke. A $1.3 trillion spending package. What they can't spend money on. (Money they ain't got!) Uncle Bubba believes he has a voice in the United States government. He is an active citizen and is not beyond writing his congressmen, congresswomen, and Senators in regard to issues that cause him concern. Emailing an elected official opts y'all in to receive their pandering newsletters. Uncle Bubba just received one from Senator Bill Nelson. He was proud to tell his constituency that he secured federal funding; something to be proud of?

Uncle Bubba read the newsletter out loud to Sweet Pea and then they paused and looked at one another. After a minute Bubbie said to Sweet Pea, "Darlin', I don't reckon that one thing on that list concerns us." He read through the list again, pausing after each title and say,"Nope, don't concern us..." In Bubbie's view, Senator Nelson is sure 'nough proud of spending taxpayers money, just wished he'd asked us all first.

Hiding In Plain Sight

Cousin Earl had to ride to the county seat to pay his tax bill and what-not and he asked Uncle Bubba to ride along just to keep him company. Uncle Bubba hadn't seen much of Cousin Earl lately so he took him up on the invite. It was a beautiful sunny Spring day though a little chilly for the wind; after all, it was March. Cousin Earl parked in the lot across the street from the courthouse and as he stepped out of the car he left the keys with Uncle Bubba so he could listen to the radio while he waited. Uncle Bubba cracked open the window and heard voices as he noticed several small groups of people standing between cars and talking. There were young and old, little children and grandmas. It didn't take long for Uncle Bubba to realize that there was a lot of drama happening in that parking lot. Well, it made sense since folks were coming out of the courthouse and walking back to their vehicles. They were probably there fighting over split-ups, divorces, child custody and what have you; maybe some small claims stuff, sad stuff. Come on man, if you lie with dogs, you're bound to get fleas.


Beyond the angry gestures and foul language, across the street and right under the American flag was a black granite statue of the Ten Commandments. Uncle Bubba stared at them intently, with a twinkle in his eye as he thought about the political statement that the county made by placing them there; it felt good, it felt right. But then the irony of the tragedies that were happening around him struck his heart. If these hurt and harmed folks would only live by the words etched in that stone monument they wouldn't be standing there up to their eyeballs on such a beautiful Spring day. In Bubbie's view, the answer to most of the drama in their wretched lives was hiding right there in plain sight.

Just Throw Money At It

Uncle Bubba doesn’t like to get too current with his current events since the world is filled with hate and bad news and he definitely doesn’t want to contribute to it. So this is a post that may help in shedding some light on a dark subject; one that seems to have our political "leaders” stumped though there are smart people with viable answers. Our topic is the once unheard of occurrence of school shootings. Uncle Bubba felt compelled to get this information out there due to a recent headline in the local newspaper: “Making An Impact”. It was a typical, political fluff piece about how wonderful our local Sheriff (and Sheriff’s office) is. Among other things, in the wake of the recent shootings, he proposes to hire 10 new officers to protect the county middle and high schools. The school board had proposed to hire 5 but the sheriff, as a political monster’s nature is, wants 10. The board offered to pay just more than $82,000 to cover half the cost of those five additional officers for the rest of this school year. And where do they get that money from? The sheriff's office would pay the other half. Uncle Bubba wonders what criteria the Sheriff and school board used to come up with their solutions?

"There are associated upfront costs that no matter what we do, we must have the upfront cost covered," the Sheriff said. "That's purchasing the vehicles, the uniforms, the equipment, the weapons, doing the mandatory training as mandated by Florida statute to deploy these assets out into the communities."

To help cover those costs, the sheriff says he has asked county commissioners for a budget amendment of $978,000 for the rest of his current fiscal year… uh, Sheriff? That’s taxpayers' money. With that in mind, Uncle Bubba asks you to read the following excerpt from a podcast called Brain Stuff.

“On Valentine’s Day this year, 17 people including students and teachers were killed by a 19-year-old former student at Marjorie Stoneman Douglas that was high school in Parkland Florida. This was the tenth mass school shooting in the United States in the past five years. A mass shooting is generally defined as one when at least four people are killed in a single incident. And, once again, Americans are left asking ourselves why? Lost in the noisy debate over gun control and mental health screening is another compounding question; why schools? Why do so many troubled young man see schools as a place to act out there violent and vengeful fantasies? And what if anything can a school do to avoid becoming the next Columbine, Sandy Hook, or Stoneman Douglas? We spoke with Bryan Warnick, a Professor of Educational Ethics and Policy at the Ohio State University who co-authored a paper on the meaning and motivations behind targeted school shootings. Even though many associate gun violence in America with poor inner-city communities, many school shootings almost always occur at upper-middle-class suburban schools. That’s where the status tournament takes place explains Warnick. He said suburban schools do a lot of things to select winners and losers in ways that go beyond academics; think the adulation of athletics and the crownings of homecoming kings and queens. He continued, the way we see it, when schools set themselves up as judges in the social status tournament the resentment will sometimes be directed against the school itself.

In the book, 'Hollywood Goes To The Movies' sociologist and author Robert Bulman says that while Hollywood films that in urban schools focus on heroic teachers and academic achievement, films set in suburban settings focus on student journeys of self-discovery. In the same vein, many suburban school shooters see what they are doing is acts of self-expression. 

Warnick said there’s a different value system at play in suburban schools, it’s called expressive individualism. What we see in movies and TV is students engaged in the process of self-discovery, breaking through norms of the school, breaking through social cliques. Discovery and individual expression aren’t necessarily bad things says Warnick, but for certain troubled young man who harbor deep resentment of the system that rejected them, there’s no better way to express their true tortured selves than through a dramatic act of violence and the higher the body count to be more powerful the message will be. 

We also spoke with Cheryl Johnson, a Professor of Criminal Justice at Cincinnati’s Xavier University where she studied whether increased security measures, namely armed guards on campus, locked down buildings, and metal detectors are an effective means of preventing school shootings. She found that although beefed up security may deter overall crime and violent crime in schools there’s little evidence to show that those measures alone thwart a mass shooting. First, school shootings are just too statistically rare to gauge the efficacy of different security methods. And second, there’s antidotal evidence that even the best security can fail.

There were armed school guards at Columbine. The Sandy Hook shooter shot through glass pans to bypass locked doors. And in 2005, a student in Red Lake Minnesota passed through his schools metal detector before killing an unarmed guard who tried to stop him, along with other people including himself. There’s also concerned militarizing schools with armed guards and security checkpoints contribute to the idea that the school is an unsafe place where violence is almost expected. Johnson 2017 paper, obviously written before the February 2018 Parkland instant, pointed out that the raw number of homicides at schools each year since Columbine in 1999 had actually decreased or remain stable over the years. 

One of the best ways to prevent school shootings, both Johnson and Warnick agree, is to encourage people to speak up when they suspect a classmate friend or family member is contemplating something terrible. The day before the Parkland shooting a grandmother in Washington state called 911 when she found her 18-year-old grandson’s handwritten plans for a gruesome school attack involving homemade explosives. 

Johnson said, 'That’s a school shooting we’re not talking about today.' Citing a report from the Secret Service and the Department of Education, that in 81% of school shootings at least one other person knew about the plans. In 59%, two or more people had information about the attacks before they occurred. Warnick said, 'Usually when school shootings are prevented its when students trust the teachers enough to share that information with them. If we could really build up schools as a place of the trust, where children feel like they had adults you care about them, that would facilitate the communication that’s been proven to prevent school shootings.'

Of course, speaking of hasn’t always been foolproof. We now know that the FBI received a tip about the Parkland shooter dating back to September 2017 for making disturbing comments on YouTube, but he was never detained or even questioned. A second person contacted the FBI on January 5, 2018, to report their concerns and to warn them about the shooter’s guns and desire to kill. But the FBI has admitted that the proper protocols to follow up were left unfollowed. 

Instead of school Districts spending money on expensive and unproven security solutions Bryan Warnick suggests they hire more teachers and counselors to shrink class-sizes and encourage more meaningful interactions between staff and struggling students. He’d also like to see more creative outlets like art, literature, and music classes which often get cut from tight budget for safe individual expression."

In Bubbie's view, if the county is going to spend $1,060,000.00 it should be on Warnick and Johnson's suggestions above. In other words, spend it on the children and not to inflate the size of peripheral local government agencies.

Highway Robbery

The previous post was Uncle Bubba's story of how it took him nearly one week to purchase a piece of glass for his old camper. Since he got it installed, I asked him how he felt about it now that it's done. He said that, because it looks good, he feels good about it; but it's tainted by the hassle it took to buy it. I can completely understand that. He was astute at pointing out that we run into this phenomenon all the time, people that are either self-centered or incompetent, either way, they are robbing us. Of what? Beyond the obvious of time and money, how about peace? When we're at peace, aren't we content? Don't we have a good feeling when we're at peace? Isn't that where we'd all like to be?

Uncle Bubba says, say y'all drive to the feed store, the Piggly Wiggly, or twist off to the Vallero station for gas and a cup of coffee. On the way, someone cuts you off or nearly runs into you with their car. Maybe they even give you a dirty look and pop off madder than a wet hen in a tote sack. And here you were just fixin' to make your way, in peace. Now you're fighting the urge in your mind to tell that Jasper, "I'm fixin' ta jerk a knot in your tail!" Well, brothers and sisters, I'm here to tell y'all, don't do it. Whether y'all are Christians or not you should not be easily angered; be patient, be kind and willing to forgive. Don't let people rob you of your peace. Give up your childish ways and choose not to be easily offended; it's not worth it. Don't let them highway robbers steal your peace!

And for those who attempt to rob the world of its peace by your thoughtless acts, bless your heart, you can't go far but what your tail will follow you.

A Pain In The Glass

Uncle Bubba needed a pane of glass to replace a broken window in his old camper. Being unfamiliar with how the window was assembled, he carefully removed the plastic trim from the aluminum frame and took the measurements of the glass area. Then he was off to the local hardware store to get the glass cut to size. One of the oldtimers that work there asked what he needed.
"A piece of glass for a camping trailer window" he replied.
"Do you know the size?"
"Yessir, 18 inches by 10 inches." But he was thinking, "Do you think I would come here and not know the size?" And in the immortal words of comedian Bill Engvall, "Here's your sign." Uncle Bubba let the thought pass as it does no good to harbinger a foul thought.

The oldtimer scribbled down the dimensions on a small white scrap of paper and turned to the supply of glass and consulted a chart on the wall. He pulled a pane from a stack and placed it against a large vertical cutting table against the wall. He used a tape measure and adjusted the glass and then slid a long aluminum arm down across the glass and snapped off a piece. He tossed the smaller piece into a scrap bin on the floor with a crash. Then rotated the glass on the table and repeated the procedure. Crash! The leftover hit the bin. He wrapped the finished piece a heavy paper wrapper, wrote out a ticket and handed them both to Uncle Bubba. Bubbie thanked him and walked to the front counter to pay.

Back home he had to pry the old, broken glass from the frame before scraping a gummy gasket strip off of the aluminum. He reapplied a new, very sticky black gasket to the frame and then laid the glass into place... oh no, it didn't fit! It was a little out of square for sure and cut slightly bigger than the specs that Uncle Bubba had supplied. So, reluctantly, he drove back to the hardware with the piece of glass to rectify the situation. He walked back to the glass cutting area and the oldtimer was standing there.
Uncle Bubba piped up, "Sir, this glass that y'all cut fer me doesn't fit, it's too big."
"Well I cut it to the dimensions that you gave me," came the oldtimers reply. (And once again, "Here's your sign.")
"Sir, it's not cut to the size that I gave y'all or it would have fit. It don't fit. Therefore, it was not cut to the size I gave you." Bubbie retorted.
The oldtimer pulled out a tape measure and stretched it across the glass. "It reads 18 inches by 10 inches." he mused.
"No, it reads 18 1/8 inches by 10 1/16 inches."
The oldtimer slid the tape over the glass once again. "Well, on this end it's even a little bigger. Were they tight measurements that you gave me?" asked the oldtimer, "Because glass should be cut an 1/8 inch less so that it fits."
"They weren't real tight measurements, and if you'd have asked me that before you cut it I would have told you so. Sir, y'all are the glass cutter, not me. If I had cut it, I'd have given it a little room to play. And the fact that it's out of square means that your cutting table needs to be adjusted."
"Well, I don't know what you want me to do about it," said the oldtimer, "I can't trim this to fit."
Uncle Bubba said, "Look, I got the window out in my camper so I need a piece of glass cut to the right size so that I can get the window put back in. I reckon that you should cut me a new piece of glass."
"OK, but I'll have to charge you fer it." said the oldtimer.
"Oh no you won't." said Bubbie, "I'm not paying for your mistake. Y'all gave me a piece of glass that didn't fit."
"I cut it to the dimensions that you gave me." the oldtimer said. (Here's your sign again!)
"Look here, I'm not going to keep arguing this with you. If your policy is that the customer is wrong and y'all don't make mistakes, then cut the glass an 1/8 inch smaller per side and I'll take it up with the store manager."

I'll spare y'all the details of the rest of the story, like the next piece didn't fit either because it was still out of square; it's too painful to rehash. What a pain in the glass! In Bubbie's view, these things happen way too often in life. The good old days of courtesy are gone like rotary telephones. He wasted 2 hours of his time in two trips. He didn't need an argument and to pay for someone else's mistakes, he just needed a simple piece of glass. My question is, what do we do when this happens to us?

Edit: The next day, Uncle Bubba decided to go to a local glass shop to get his piece of glass. He waited at the counter as the employee assisted a gentleman with his window order, then it was his turn. He ordered an 1/8 inch thick pane of glass, 17 3/4" X 9 3/4" and told the nice lady that he had already taken into account the adjustment by reducing the dimension by an 1/8 inch per side. While ordering he even showed the lady the dimensions he had written down to reinforce her writing down the correct measurements. To his astonished disappointment, she then informed him that they could not currently cut the piece because "the boys" were unloading a truck.
"It could take hours or even tomorrow but I'll call you when it's done."
Uncle Bubba turned from the counter, dazed, and walked out to his truck, and drove away with an irked laughter and shaking his head.

The day passed without a phone call but they did finally call the next afternoon so Uncle Bubba went to pick up his glass. He could not make up what happened next; the lady handed him a pane of glass. See for yourself:

Near tears, Uncle Bubba explained that the measurement was wrong, it was supposed to be 9 3/4", not 9 3/8". Then she told him that the feller that cuts the glass just left for the day so he couldn't recut the glass until tomorrow. Stay tuned...

Finally, though it took two trips back to pick up the last piece of glass, it wasn't cut yet when he stopped in the morning because "We are fixing our cutting table"; Uncle Bubba was able to install it and put the entire ordeal to rest. It was an expensive fix costing more time than money, and all because of ineptitude, to be polite. Still, what would you do if it were you?

The Miner

There was an old miner that made a small fortune in gold but that was not all of his riches. When he was a boy he grew up around miners, yet, since his daddy didn't mine he was estranged to them. He heard his daddy denigrate them and call them drunks and lazy bums. It seemed harsh to the boy but he did witness their dirty clothes and some laughing and drinking in barrooms as he walked the sidewalks of town by the ginmill doorways. He was too young to realize that their course behavior was a snapshot of some folks, of any folks for that matter but not the actions of all miners. Still, his opinion was sullied long before he grew to be a young man. He never intended to be a miner, it never crossed his mind since his interest lied in woodworking and furniture making. He worked laborers jobs on farms and ranches, he dug ditches and cut firewood, he even moved fill dirt off of mine areas while he apprenticed in woodworking. He eventually became a journeyman woodworker and after he made some money he ventured to buy some land and start a homestead. He bought a tract in the hills and began clearing a serene spot in the woods at the edge of a small brook to build a house. One day he was dragging some rocks up out of the brook and a shining glint caught his eye. He reached into the water where he thought he saw something and pulled up a gold nugget. He couldn't believe his eyes! Just like that, he had found what is equivalent to money laying on the ground, just laying there, he didn't have to earn it. He sat back on the stream bank and laughed. After a moment of laughter, he jumped to his feet and danced a little jig. He was amazed at how rejuvenated he felt after working so hard in the dirt and rock and mud. That's when it struck him that he was no different than the hard-working miners of his youth that his daddy looked down his nose at. He worked with his hands to build beautiful things and he worked on his land to make his home. He got dirty and often suffered minor injury but he was contented. He was also a kind and generous man. He wasn't a drunkard and he certainly wasn't lazy; but now he felt something different, he felt transformed and he couldn't say why. He continued to work at making furniture, built and worked his homestead, and mined for gold in the evenings, yet something was different within him.

That first big nugget, though it opened up amazing opportunities, it was not the fortune; he had to search for more to amass his tidy sum. He learned techniques and applied new ways to mining and gained experience with each new nugget. As he aged and his hands struggled to make his beautiful furniture he still kept mining because he enjoyed it; he was a miner. He liked to work in the earth and learn new methods. He discovered much more than gold and things that it could buy for himself, he could share his wealth with others which brought him more happiness.

Theo Wilson

Theo Wilson is a poet and a YouTube activist who wondered about the people posting racist comments on his videos, and where they were getting their facts. So he adopted a pseudonym and joined their conversation. If y'all google his name there's plenty of information available and he gave an excellent Ted Talk that everyone should listen to, and then relisten to it with an open heart. When Uncle Bubba heard it he was struck by many things but one thing in particular, however, he'll share that in a moment. First here are some poignant excerpts from an interview Mr. Wilson did with Ted Talks. These excerpts will give you a glimpse into the caliber of person and the deep thinker that Mr. Wilson is.

"WILSON: When I went undercover, I found a lovely plethora of characters, luminaries like Milo Yiannopoulos, Richard Spencer, and David Duke. All of these guys were thought leaders in their own right, but over time, the alt-right movement ended up using their information to fuel their momentum. And I'm going to tell you what else led to the momentum of the alt-right - the left-wing's wholesale demonization of everything white and male.

One thing kept screaming at me through the subtext of those arguments, and that was, why should I be hated for who I cannot help but be? Now, was a black man in America, that resonated with me. I've spent so much time defending myself against attempts to demonize me and make me apologize for who I am, trying to portray me as something that I'm not, some kind of thug or gangster or menace to society. Unexpected compassion - wow. Never in a billion years did I think that I could have some kind of compassion for people who hated my guts.

WILSON: And let me be clear about the difference between compassion and sympathy. Compassion is my spiritual duty as a human being, but that's different than - well, a lot of people interpret that compassion as a sympathy. I don't have sympathy for them. You see, compassion figures out how you got to where you are. Sympathy is having compassion for where they ended up.

And that's a very, very key distinction that has to be made. I get how somebody could be born on that side of the divide and end up where they are. But I also get that we all have brains, and we can do our own bit of education, and we can figure out exactly what data points that we're missing. And why don't you care to do it? That was a question that I had.

WILSON: The most important thing that I think that we could get from this is that there is unhealed trauma on every side of the racial divide. There's trauma, man. And a lot of people talk about the trauma that black folks have, the post-traumatic slavery syndrome. But then there's also a trauma that white folks experienced, and that experience comes from the fact - and I made a video about this, about how slavery wounded white people.

You don't get to be a part of a force that did that much damage to other peoples without somehow having damage done to yourself at some level. Every time somebody saw somebody lynched, even if they were white, that was damage. If you witness a murder, that's therapy for life, right? One murder - right?

So what does it say when the whole culture gets a lynch mob out and goes hanging folks? You think little Billy, the first time he sees a black man burning from a tree, ain't going experience some kind of trauma? That's going to show up some kind of place, right? That - all of that has a cost. The great tragedy of racism is that we are all human, is that we all lose a piece of our humanity." (http://kuow.org/post/theo-ej-wilson-what-happens-when-black-man-goes-undercover-alt-right)

His statement about trauma on both sides is the thing that hit Bubbie like a hammer between the eyes. It was an epiphany! Thank you, Theo. Though the topic was racism, Bubbie suddenly realized that we all have PTSD in every area of our lives. To back up for a moment, to Uncle Bubba PTSD was something that happened to war veterans and victims of horrific accidents and such. But suddenly he realized that it is, in fact, a condition stemming from any event that an individual is unable to reconcile in their mind; its torturous, toxic thoughts. We all have these that layer upon layer all ingrown like the rings of a tree.

What's at the heart of your tree?

They can begin in childhood and depend on one's personality, environment, resilience and coping skills in avoiding more damage that life dishes out.  And life doesn't slow down to let us recuperate and fix things to make them right, at least within our own minds. Sometimes we are weighed down by one event when we're clobbered by another; bad things happen in 3s as Granny used to say. Bubbie supposes that this is why psychologists were invented, to help us work through these trauma, PTSD things before they became too full of themselves but that's a thought for another day; for now he wants to say that though we've all been damaged in some way, everything can heal and if y'all don't pick at the scab too much, that scar may not be deep. In Bubbie's view, look inside yourself and see if y'all can find those scabbed over wounds, the ones that haven't healed, have some compassion for your heart and find a way to get them healed; Jesus is a good place to start.

Old Hogs

Uncle Bubba really likes his hog. It doesn't matter if he's just sitting on the porch admiring her resting in the sunshine or sitting on her back as she takes him on a ride. Recently he watched a YouTube video about Harley Davidson's biggest challenge in the future and that's the fact that their core demographic of customers are aging and will eventually fade away, and the young bucks just aren't into motorcycles as much as playing video games. The video also postulated that the younger generations are more inclined to buy crotch rockets because they're faster and cheaper. It's a hard argument to contradict. Harley's are expensive. Sportbikes are fun. But for a while now Uncle Bubba has been tired of the Harley Davidson paradigm. Short of their sportier bikes targeted at younger riders, most of their cruisers are just getting too many comfort features that in Bubbie's view take away from the ride and add to the cost. It wasn't until he thought about the info that the video presented that he realized that all these comforts do go hand in hand with older riders. Aside from Bubbie, there's not a lot of old dudes that want to ride stripped down bikes of their youth. They want low vibration motors, 6-speed transmissions, soft comfy seats, farings loaded with radios and stereo speakers, GPS, LED lights, heated grips, and on and on. These new bikes are practically 2 wheeled cars! That just ain't Bubbie taste. He likes to feel the bike as it rumbles under him and he likes to listen to the motor and the wind and the sounds of nature and the environment. He doesn't want to be distracted from the ride with a radio or GPS, clock or cell phone. He wants to be connected in spirit to the band of Wild Ones that came before him. Easy Rider and Born To Be Wild. All the brothers and sisters that rode not to show off their style and make a fashion statement but because a bike was their primary choice of transportation due to their rebel hearts. It wasn't about comfort it was about freedom. Uncle Bubba likes the idea of being in that pedigree. He reckons that every rider likes that idea and feels similarly but in Bubbie's view, it's a lot easier to connect the dots without the radio distracting him.

Ain't That The Way?

Uncle Bubba had a cow that was about to calve, he just knew it because he had a busy couple days lined up. Yet he remained vigilant though it added to his busy schedule; he didn't mind. He rode by her daily on windshield inspection and noticed some telltale signs: a switching tail, kicking at her belly, turning in circles, and other signs of discomfort fall into this category too. Separation from the herd is another sign. No one likes to have a kid with all their friends watching, and cows are no exception.

On Sunday, Bubbie and Sweet Pea went to church and as they arrived home that afternoon they drove up to their homestead to see the cow lying in the field and without a doubt she was definitely in labor. Uncle Bubba dropped Sweet Pea off at the house and then punched the accelerator and darted across the field. As he approached the momma, the calf’s front legs and dark nose were out but it was obvious that momma was having some difficulty. Bubbie didn't hesitate and dove right in. As luck would have it, Sweet Pea had quickly changed her clothes and scampered across the field to witness the birth. Uncle Bubba called to her to hurry because he was going to need her help. He had been pulling at the calf's legs and asked Sweet Pea to take over while he worked on getting the shoulders and then hips out with the contractions. Within a few moments, the calf was born. Momma was exhausted.

She eventually got up with their encouragement and quickly found the calf and started licking it and making momma moo grunts to her. She licked the calf and licked and licked some more. She then found its umbilical cord and snipped it off just at the right length. It was very cool that she knew exactly what to do. Uncle Bubba and Sweet Pea stood and watched in awe and amazement at the miracle of birth and new life. It took a long time for the little girl to get up on those wobbly long stilts of hers, but when they left the barn to come in for supper, she was up and nursing.

It had been a long few days of waiting and wondering so now as they sat at the table reflecting upon the event they smiled contentedly at one another. Just that morning Bubbie had been out checking on the momma cow before the sun had shown its face and a pack of coyotes ran across the back fence line, no doubt awaiting the birth as well. In the dim dawn light, Uncle Bubba reached into the cab of his pickup truck and grabbed his .270. He braced it across the hood and touched off a round with his squinted eye peering through the crosshairs of the scope. The coyotes turned tail and scrambled and disappeared into the woods. In Bubbie's view, ain't that the way that it is? When a good thing is showing up in your life, if we don't guard against it something will come in and snatch it away. How many blessings do we miss because we failed to prepare?

Say What?

Uncle Bubba cranked on the steering wheel and pulled his pickup truck into the parking lot of the gin mill. He and his buddies just came off of a successful hog hunt and they were gathering at the watering hole for a refreshing beverage and recount the morning's events; this is how legends are born. Uncle Bubba walked into the darkness of the bar and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the change in light and he could feel cigarette smoke sting his sun weary eyes. He dimly recognized The Captain at the far end of the barroom and then the afternoon sunlight broke in and the rest of the crew bounded through the door. They bellied up to the bar and the tall tales started immediately. For the uninitiated, wild hogs have exploded in population across the US and they are wreaking havoc on America's farmlands. Wild boars are classified as pests because their diet of roots leads to them tearing up the ground, killing plants in the process and hastening erosion. Uncle Bubba's crew doesn't go out to just shoot them, rather they catch them using dogs and then pen them up and fatten them on grain before harvesting them. Back at the bar, they are laughing at the day's events and as usual most of the jokes are about Cousin Earl. It just seems to be that way and in Bubbie's opinion, it's because he brings it on himself.

Earl was bellyaching about how he strained his back when he tried to pick up one of the hogs to carry it out of the woods. The boys howled at that because it was one of the smallest caught. Then his wrist hurt from this and his neck ached from that: it's always something with Earl, he's a bit of a hypochondriac. Generally, the crew rolls their eyes when they see him coming and they aren't displeased to see him go, he can wear y'all out with his complaints. Uncle Bubba tries his best to hang in there with him because they've known one another since they was babies and he kinda pities him because he knows that hypochondria is a symptom of other things, mental and emotional what-have-yous. Wistfully, Bubbie hopes that Earl gets over whatever ails him before it's too late, after all, it wears on Bubbie as well; he, like us all, has his own issues and challenges of life to deal with. Bubbie would love to be standing at the bar laughing with his buddies with Earl on equal footing and not the brunt of every joke but that's just not the way life works.

Thankfully, Uncle Bubba and Sweet Pea have a different philosophy of life that not only helps them cope but makes for a pleasant and blessed existence. Wanna know their secret? Take good care to guard your heart and listen to what comes out your mouth. They believe that what goes into their eyes and ears winds up in their hearts. Is it sugar or vinegar? That's why they don't watch any news and only watch select TV shows. They aren't on Facebook and avoid social media in general. A clean heart leads to a clean mind and what is in one's heart is what come out of their mouth. Of course, they're only human so they have their hard times like anyone else, but by listening to what comes out of their mouth they can cut the negativity off before it festers and becomes a lifestyle. Uncle Bubba clarifies that it's more like thinking about what you're about to say just before you say it and is it a good thing or bad. Is it a complaint or does it enrich the conversation? It's a choice to say only favorable, just, and virtuous things. It's like this, you think and then you do. If your thinking is off then your communication through what you say and do is off, and vice versa. As scripture says, "As he thinks in his heart, so is he" (Proverbs 23:7). Bubbie admits that it's a learned skill and a practiced choice. He wasn't always this way, he came up from being just as rough a character as anyone but in Bubbie's view, having the choice of the way he was versus the way he is, is a no-brainer. Life today is way better, healthier, and happier.

What's Your Problem?

What's Your Problem? People. Uncle Bubba proposes a mind experiment that's easy to try. Picture your life without people. You are the only one that exists. Imagine that you wake up in the morning a fix yourself a nice breakfast, maybe a nice hot coffee to slowly wind up into your day. Then, without people, what does your day look like? What are your responsibilities? Remember, there is no one to interfere with your day, no one to throw a wrench in your plan. You're free to do, think, and say anything you want without judgment or concern for hurting some's feelings. Of course, this means that there is no one to gossip about, speak ill of, or worry about. You'll have to find new things to fill up the time spent on that and burn that energy in a people-less way. Bubbie reckons that it only leaves the basic necessities of acquiring food and having a decent shelter. Perhaps once they're secured your desire would be to add some luxuries to your life to enrich your life and make it more comfortable. You would do it only as you wish because there isn't anyone else's ideas, tastes, or needs to concern yourself with. There's no one to second guess you or question you: "Why'd you do that?" or "I don't care for that." What would your house look like? Where would you live? What would you do with your time? What would you surround yourself with? Would you venture out to explore?

Without people, there would be a lot less drama in your world. There would be less added responsibilities. There would be less conflict and your problems would drop by probably 90%. It's quite a realization when you think about it. But there are people and we have to live side by side with them. They will rub up against you and create some challenging situations that will not often be pleasant. People create problems. In Bubbie's view, living with people can be painful unless we choose to make good decisions and use learned skills that produce a good attitude and maturity. And in case you haven't thought about it, you're a real pain in someone else's butt too. Don't be a problem.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year everybody! Uncle Bubba has a couple resolutions that he wants to put out on the table so that he's more likely to stick to them. The first is probably the more difficult of the two: to stop cursing. He came up in a time when cursing was thought to be a sign of being dim-witted, or as Bubbie's granny used to say, "Cussin' is a neon sign to a shallow mind." Folks reckoned that the use of four letter foul words was due to lack of sufficient vocabulary to express oneself. Well, Uncle Bubba has been disappointed in himself for how easily cuss words slip from his lips; his mouth gets ahead of his brain. It really struck him this Christmas season while shopping, you know, being around the general public in crowded stores, which is hard on a country boy. He was aghast at how often he heard the biggie, the mother of all curse words, the F-bomb being dropped by fellow shoppers. It's become such a casual thing! And it wasn't just lowlife types but middle-class and upper-class teenage girls as they huddled over one another's phones; even within families! It was disturbing and made Uncle Bubba sad when it should have been a joyful time anticipating the celebration of Jesus' birth. Jesus, the one who sacrificed his life to save Bubbie's life from sin, if not us all.

Uncle Bubba knows that it's as much a habit to cuss as anything so it will be a process of listening to what's rolling out of his mouth and the wherewithal to correct it until the habit is changed. It will take an effort but he's up for the challenge. Besides, it's also about his family; he'd want his granny to be proud and he aims to be a good example for his grandbabies.

The second resolution is challenging as well but he presumes will take much longer to engrain it into his lifestyle. As Bubbie put it, he's opting out of so much technology. We all talk about what a time waster it can be, especially folks in his age group when chirping about "lazy" gamers. But how is he any better? It just recently occurred to him that his friends that do nothing with or know very little about technology are busy. Either they don't care to know and are too busy to learn or too busy to learn and too busy to bother: it's the chicken and the egg scenario. Anyway, he realized that back in the day, he'd sit down and look through a magazine. At the end, he'd put the dang magazine down because he'd finished with it and he'd find something else to do. With browsing, there is no end! We spend hours lost in rabbit holes as daylight turns to dark. Well, Bubbie for one has had enough. He's ready for a change. He wants to get up and move, to take action on something, anything; he wants to be busy creating things. He mentioned that he knew that he was swimming against the current because society is moving towards more technology, but he really doesn't care. In Bubbie's view, ya gotta get the blood pumping. Ya gotta act on a resolution, participate in the process. Sure, things will have to be unraveled before being knitted back together but that's the fun of the challenge. I thanked him for his heartfelt New Years wishes and waved goodbye as I walked to my truck, and he yelled to me with a smile and a big wave, "No battle is won by marching backward so advance! And Happy New Year Y'all!"

We're All In This Together

Uncle Bubba has been more or less missing from action due to a tumultuous 2 years of personal challenges. After many attempts to reach him, I finally made contact and was able to catch up to what was happening with he and Sweet Pea, but honestly, he didn't speak much about the past. Instead, he jumped back into what's going on in the world around him and his opinion of it. He mused at his timing to emerge from the peace of a backcountry wood, with fake news and sexual allegations spraying rich white men in the public eye like arrows shot from an army of Amazon women that circled around the canyon walls and climbed the cliffs to ambush their enemies. What is scarier, the dangling threat of a false accusation that is tried in the court of Twitter or the trend of skipping over a fair trial? But no one with ears cares about that now, they just want to linch somebody; and so it goes.

I asked Uncle Bubba how he thought that we got here? He told me that, his opinion, we've created an online society of projected lives and trolls, where both hide their true identity and virtually behave without the watchful eye of God; like uncivil, unconscionable animals. Then, as is bound to happen, that behavior becomes so familiarly engrained in the social psyche that it manifests itself in the real world of carnality and it's tyrannical doctrine robs us of our historical, hard-fought rights and freedoms.

In Bubbie's view, we need to get a grip and get a life. There's nothing wrong with trying new things but there's also nothing wrong with sticking with what works. Let injustice be revealed and a light shine on unrighteousness. Then let the accused face their accusers and present their defense to their peers, and all stand-up and suffer the consequences; we're all in this together.

As I Lay Dying

Uncle Bubba read the novel "As I Lay Dying" by William Faulkner many years ago and found it profoundly disturbing on many levels; he surmised that many people felt this way, but who knows? The story is written about Addie Bundren, the wife of Anse Bundren and the matriarch of a poor southern family, she is very ill, and is expected to die soon. Her four children wrestle with there individual perceptions of the event and the rather sizable questions of existence and identity. Addie's unorthodox wish to be buried near her blood relatives rather than with her own family is at the core of the story and sets of a tumult of actions by the family to honor her wish. In a critique of the story in Sparks Notes, Uncle Bubba would agree with the assertion the, "As I Lay Dying is, in its own way, a relentlessly cynical novel, and it robs even childbirth of its usual rehabilitative powers. Instead of functioning as an antidote to death, childbirth seems an introduction to it—for both Addie and Dewey Dell, giving birth is a phenomenon that kills the people closest to it, even if they are still physically alive. For Addie, the birth of her first child seems like a cruel trick, an infringement on her precious solitude, and it is Cash’s birth that first causes Addie to refer to Anse as dead. Birth becomes for Addie a final obligation, and she sees both Dewey Dell and Vardaman as reparations for the affair that led to Jewel’s conception, the last debts she must pay before preparing herself for death. Dewey Dell’s feelings about pregnancy are no more positive: her condition becomes a constant concern, causes her to view all men as potential sexual predators, and transforms her entire world, as she says in an early section, into a “tub full of guts.” Birth seems to spell out a prescribed death for women and, by proxy, the metaphorical deaths of their entire households."*

Not long after reading it, Bubbie put the novel out of his mind as anyone would an unpleasantry, but now it has resurfaced in the back of his mind as the matriarch of his own family, his mama is withering as he sits at her bedside. He is not only a witness to her ending from this life, but also a spiritually adept chronicler of the players in the Broadway show of her life. As he looks down at her and studies her features he can easily recall her best and beautiful youth. She was a petite, black haired beauty that could sing like an angel. Her enigmatic personality was complex and confusing to her children and much like the characters in the aforementioned novel, each had a vastly different experience and relationship with her. Uncle Bubba lovingly brushes back the hair on her forehead and considers himself blessed to be a Christian in these trying times; perhaps more devoutly Christian than his siblings as far as he can see, not to slight them for it but to grieve for them in their struggles to navigate life and this tense moment. Again Faulkner's cast of characters drift into his mind and he reckons that he's played each role in his mama's play. Cash Bundren, the eldest Bundren child and a skilled carpenter. Bubbie can sit in any corner of this ol' house and see his handy work. Cash is the paragon of patience and selflessness, almost to the point of absurdity. Darl Burden is the most sensitive and articulate. Jewel, the bastard child of Addie and Whitfield the minister. Jewel has a proud, fiercely independent nature that most of his family and neighbors confuse for selfishness. His passionate, brooding nature, however, reveals a real love and dedication to his mother, and he becomes a fierce protector. Vardaman is the youngest of the Bundren children. He has a lively imagination, and although his ramblings at the beginning of the novel border on the maniacal, Vardaman proves to be a thoughtful and innocent child. Bubbie has been all of these and none of them at one time or another, he feels that poignantly now at this tired time of transition.



Uncle Bubba can hear his mama's big clock in the other room: tick... tick... tick... tick... tick... tick... Time is all they have now. It may be short or tick on slowly and inscrutably. The players will enter and leave to play their narcissistic roles until the final scene, which we all know, like in the novel only sets off the beginning of a story. The will look upon her face but like Narcissus will only see their own reflection as when he caught sight of his own reflection in a pool, he sat gazing at it in fascination, wasting away without food or drink, unable to touch or kiss the image he saw. Uncle Bubba floats in and out of these early memories and false realities to reassure himself of the reason that he his here in the first place. In Bubbie's view, he is honored to share this time with his mama and be a good and faithful son until she decides that it is time for that chapter of his life is closed.




* SparkNotes Editors. “SparkNote on As I Lay Dying.” SparkNotes LLC. 2003. http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/asilay/themes.html (accessed December 27, 2016).

Who Do You Agree With?

Uncle Bubba was driving down the road in his old Ford pickup truck with the windows down and the radio playing. He was taking in the scenery and the beauty of nature and fondly thinking on his loved ones and how fortunate he is to have good relationships that enrich his life. He knows that not everyone is so fortunate, and truth be told there are some people that Uncle Bubba doesn't have a good relationship with; of course, he's human and we are born into this imperfect world. However he has renewed his mind to think upon the best things of life and not dwell on his disappointments and failures. He watched a hawk soar over a meadow, effortlessly gliding on the air and marvelled at it's beautiful markings and grace in flight, yet knew that it was hunting and looking to dive on some unsuspecting furry little rodent. He aimed his eyes back on the road as an old song came on the radio, it was Bob Dylan singing, "Gotta Serve Somebody".  Man that's a good song! Uncle Bubba tapped his fingers to the beat of the song as he took in the simplicity of the lyrics; simple but so powerful, so true. Relationships are so tricky; aren't they? When we are in a relationship, be it an acquaintance or a full blown partnership, we are in agreement with one another; we have commonalities, mutual likes and ideas, goals, etc. But it gets complicated when the people that we are in agreement with do things that we don't agree with. Sure, we never know what people do in the dark but what if things come to light and something's unseemly and you think it's immoral? Do you remain in the relationship, justifying your part? Do you cling to it to get what you want, even though that means compromising your principles?

Uncle Bubba drove on through the back country roads, through shady woods and sunny meadows. He crested a hill and the road ran along a swift running brook that ran beneath the hardwoods. With his window down he could smell the moisture that hit the back of his throat with a tanginess. It smelled wet but clean before he drove back out into the sun; the brook meandered and disappeared behind him. He passed an old farm house with a manicured vegetable garden grown in the side yard. A herd of cows grazed out yonder. They were variegated in brown, white, and black and curiously all facing the same direction as cows do.

Uncle Bubba told me that he knew a man, Mr. Sims, who was betrayed by a man and angry enough about it that he was willing to use a gun to gain retribution; thankfully he didn't. Not too long after that, a dear friend of ol' Mr. Sims was betrayed in much the same way by Mr. Hill whom he thought was a friend. It just so happened that Mr. Sims was also a friend to, and very much in agreement with Mr. Hill; they did business together. Well what do you think ol' Mr. Sims did? Did he stay in agreement with spiteful Mr. Hill, his friend's betrayer, or walk away to be a good friend? After all, Mr. Sims knew what it felt like to be badly betrayed: the pain, the sense of loss. Well ol' Mr. Sims stayed in agreement with shady Mr Hill, which revealed the content of his character. Yes, he tried to still be a friend to the man harmed but it was an impossible task as long as he stayed in agreement with the offender. In Bubbie's view, before we are too hard on ol' Sims we should realize that too often this is how most of us would act. We try to stay in the middle but staying in the middle doesn't make a good friend. No, just 'cause we do it doesn't make it right, righteousness is a difficult thing but that doesn't mean we shouldn't live that way. Mr. Sims choice to compromise his values made it easy for Uncle Bubba to walk away from his friendship with ol' Sims. As his mama used to say that you're known by the company you keep.

Johnny Cash was a-singin' on Bubbie's radio as he turned into his drive, "You can run on for a long time, run on for a long time, run on for a long time... Sooner or later God'll cut you down..." Dang thats a good'un! Bubbie pulled up to the end of his drive and put his truck in park. He sat and listened to that song and reminisced about the wonderful sights he just saw. He marvelled at the majesty of nature. He watched the laundry that Sweet Pea had hung on the line sway in the breeze and he reckoned that he was about the most blessed man alive. He surely married the right woman and they've been growing closer and stronger for over 30 years now. That's what folks do that stick together. He smiled about her as he looked over her neatly planted flower garden.

Liars lie. They have to because if they stop the foundation of their relationships crumble. Cheaters cheat. Once a cheater, always a cheater; that's the way they respond to pressure. Thieves steal because they feel entitled to take what they want. That friend that's a backbiter is running you down when you're not around, you'd better believe it. If you discover that you're in agreement with someone like this, run and don't look back. Don't waste your time trying to fix them, don't wait for things to get better, don't hang on to get what you can from them. Leave. No one needs fake friends and users. In Bubbie's view, you may think that you can sidle up to a skunk but you may not want to; you'll be carrying that stink on you for a long, long time.

What's Up With Grandma?

Uncle Bubba has been taking care of his ailing mother with the loving, empathetic partnership of Sweet Pea. They make sure that her needs are met with care and concern. One void in her life that they cannot fill is her social life. Fortunately, it's often that Mama Bubba has guests stop by the house for short visits, to check on her and perhaps brighten her day. She holds court and small talk is made of the weather, of children and grandchildren, of the goings on at church, and so on. The exchanges are cordial though Mama is lost on current events and is often forgetful. These visits are obviously the result of how she lived her life in regard to taking an interest in the lives of others.

Just the other day, Bubbie ran into a woman that owns a small gift shop who knows Mama and has for years. She expounded glowingly on just how sweet and genteel Mama is and how fondly she thinks of her. "She's in the top echelon of people I know and I pray for her daily. Please give her my love."

This is typical of the encounters that Bubbie has in regard to his mama. However, he has a sister that cannot for the life of her figure out why people think that their mama is all that. She has a strained relationship with mama as perhaps most children do with their parents and even justifiably so. This is not written to judge Bubbie's sister but to point out that family and friends are often two different relationships. His sister will assert, "I can't figure out why on earth anyone would want to sit around with an old woman and talk about nothing? I just don't get it."

Well, Uncle Bubba has a lot of friends and many of them are older, senior people. He enjoys their company for many reasons, or he wouldn't take the time to bother with them; he wouldn't take the time. In Bubbie's view, senior people have so much to offer because of their life experiences. They talk with sincerity without competition or one-upsmanship. They offer advice to be taken or not. Bubbie doesn't always agree with the advice of his senior friends; however he takes it into consideration and objectifies it from their point of view to opinionate if it's valid and usable. And all of this is knowledge is easier acquired when it comes from someone that is not a parent, someone whom does not have any authority in your life. As Bubbie says, "I don't have to keep making mistakes to learn from them, I can just as easily learn from the mistakes of others... and it's less painful." These friends of Bubbie's are the patches that make up the quilt of his life. They bring richness and color to a, sometimes, drab existence. The other thing in Bubbie's view is compassion. He knows that by God's Word we are supposed to honor our elders, and that one day he will be the senior, housebound codger whiling away the endless hours hoping for a cheerful knock at his door. That's what's up with grandma.

Vapin'

Uncle Bubba's a pretty chill, laid back kinda dude. He's a live and let live feller as long as you don't bother him. So it was interesting to hear his take on smoking and the new vaping especially since he's a non smoker. It came about because Earl stopped by with one of those E-cigarettes and was blowing steam like a frozen locomotive.

"Earl, do you how ridiculous you look with that thing?" Bubbie chided.

Earl stood beneath a giant white cloud that billowed out from his pie hole. His vaporizer thing-ma-jig looked like he was sucking on the end of a modified duck call; it was about the same size and shape.
"I don't really care Bubba." Earl retorted, "It's better fer me then them expensive cigarettes."

Bubbie, as if not even hearing Earl's reply quipped, "That's gotta be real convenient when you gotta use two hands on something, ain't it Earl?"

"Well I put the dern thing down Bubba when I gotta use two hands." Earl shot back. Uncle Bubba glanced a laughing look my way and we both chuckled.

Earl eventually drove off, his driver's window cracked open and another monstrous white cloud swirled up and out into the wind. That's when Uncle Bubba offered his passing view on smoking and vaping. He told me that he never really cared if someone wanted to smoke, so long as it didn't hurt him. But then again we are trained from a young age to avoid things that are emitted from others bodies. We are told to cover our mouths when we cough and sneeze, at least most of us are. We are told to never spit, especially on the sidewalk. We are taught to wash our hands and all of this to avoid spreading sickness and disease. So in Bubbie's view it's an odd thing to actually see the smoke and vapor residue that is emitted from someone's lungs that pass through their esophagus, mouth and nose. Of course it's also an odd thing that someone would roll up some weeds in paper and light them on fire to breath the smoke in deeply in the first place, it don't make practical sense. And now he reckons that these E-cigs are healthier, or so we've been told, but sharing your vapors with everyone around you is a bit much.

I have to interject here and say that I agree with my Uncle Bubba's point of view, as I often do, adding that I can't fathom the attraction of the vape lounge. It's hard for a nature loving, fresh air seeking country boy to grasp sitting in a large enclosed room of smog so thick that you can't see through the windows. I've never been in one, but I've been in a lot of smoky ol' barrooms and these look to put those to shame. But as my favorite uncle says, to each their own.

Uncle Bubba Reduces Fed, Returns Power To States

Uncle Bubba called and asked if I'd come over and give him a hand with some work, which I was happy to oblige. He had a small mountain of brush to clear and a couple loads of stuff that had been collecting in his barn of which he'd finally had enough of and was taking it to the dump. Since we had a stretch of mild winter days he figured that it was a good remedy for cabin fever to do some early spring cleaning, real early. The notion must have worked on his spirit as well because we had a great conversation as we rode along in his pickup truck along the wet, back country roads. In light of the new Trump presidency he told me that he could downsize the Federal Government and reduce spending a just a few simple moves.

"Take FEMA for example," Bubbie said, "That's nothing more than a closet stimulus package that's used to funnel money to states in the guise of disaster relief. Sure, there's legitimate disasters and we're fortunate to live in a country that helps it's citizens in such a way. But with a little research anyone can see that there is a lot of money allocated and spent that the Federal Government just doesn't have and ya have to wonder where the oversight is." Uncle Bubba expounded, "I'll tell ya why no one looks into this agency, because it's political suicide to question the legitimacy in assisting disaster victims: the press would have a field day!"

As we rode on he suggested something that I had a difficult time arguing with as I ran the idea over in my mind. He told me that FEMA spends a fortune in logistics that a friend of his who is a FEMA Reservist told him about. For example, they pay all travel expenses: airfare, rental car, fuel, lodging, and a food per diem for thousands of employees to travel from state to state to aid disaster victims. They set up temporary offices with furniture and office supplies and computer networks. They send people from Florida to work in Minnesota and people from Minnesota to work in Florida. They send people from California to work in Maine and people from Maine to work in California... As Bubbie says, "...it's idiotic!" So here's Bubbie's view of that solution, since we know an estimate of how much money each state gets in disaster relief each year, the Fed should set up an account for each state and distribute it on request. Like a PayPal account. They would only need a few people in Washington DC to manage the accounts. They can get rid of all of the other FEMA employees which the states can then hire. That way the travel and logistic expenses are reduced to nil for the Fed, and the states gain knowledgeable employees that make and spend money in their own state; and in states with a state income tax, they get money back on their investment.

"OK, now that that's fixed," said Bubbie, "let's try another agency. How about immigration, I think they call it ICE? We allocate money in an account to be distributed among the states and let the states handle their own difficulties of illegal immigration enforcement since, like disaster funds are different from state to state." He went on to say that the money has to be distributed without a lot of conditions imposed by the Fed, trusting the states because that would just build up a need for more Federal resources that equals more money; the thing we are trying to avoid. We need to get out of the old mentality and keep our eye on the prize: a smaller Federal Government, less cost, and less federal taxes.

I said that it seems to me that something would have to be done about the magnitude of deportation since there are so many illegal immigrants to deport. Uncle Bubba said that deportation should be swift and humane. He suggested having countries bid on building and managing deportation facilities outside of US boarders. They would be nice housing facilities that would buy time to transition people back to their rightful countries of origin. By putting the onus on the host countries we alleviate our duty to manage the care and coordination of the deportees and they would be outside of the US.

"The thing about making changes is that too many people are freaked out by it. They are used to something and are unwilling to move even if the current situation is horrible; it's what they're used to." Bubbie went on with his view, "We have too many people today that use that argument that the conservatives want to go back to old ways and nothing could be farther from the truth. As a nation we try things and try to improve on things. If something doesn't work then we should either drop it completely or learn from our mistakes and move in a new direction; not just run off of a cliff because of a grand ideal that failed. If'n ya had a knock in your car engine you wouldn't just put the hammer down and drive it hard until you threw a rod; you'd park it and fix it so that it's running smooth again." In Bubbie's view it's really all about the money. If that is what the Federal Government is turned into then so be it. Let them be the bank for the states until the states can become self sufficient. But the bank doesn't loan money and then show up and do the work. The states should be responsible for their own budgets, maintenance, and issues.

"Why wouldn't we want our state government stronger with less influence from the Fed? Do you think your voice carries further in a small room of a few people or in a stadium during a concert? Your voice is more likely to be heard and have influence on the smaller state level than at the vast Federal level."

He gave me lots to think about and we got a lot accomplished at the farm as well. The air turned cold in the evening and we sat inside by the wood stove with full bellies from Sweet Pea's delicious cooking. We chatted about the day's work and some hunting and fishing. Hard work and fixing the world's problems: just another day with my Uncle Bubba.

Bubbie saw this and wanted it posted...