It’s a beautiful day in the (cough, cough, wheeze) neighborhood.

I’ve never lived in Seattle, but a vacation there several years ago, coupled with a brief stop at Fort Lewis even further back in history firmly planted the allure of the Great Northwest in my brain. Currently, I live outside of Shanghai China; this news article from where I hope to be, about where I am, caught my eye: China career boost can come with health risks
My home is now on an island just north of the city of Shanghai, in the estuary of the Yangtze river. By central plan, this island is becoming an ecological haven. There is zero heavy industry these days, the area having been cleared of it several 5-year-plans ago. Still remaining are the empty shells of factories which once belched out the smoke of progress, as the article from the Post-Intelligencer mentions. These are methodically being razed to make room for parks and gardens and, of course, housing, as the island becomes more attractive to Shanghai’s workers.
So I think it’s incorrect to say that the central government has no concern over its residents’ health, but it certainly isn’t paramount; China is a global corporation masquerading as a nation: its policies are those of any large company. Opportunity abounds for those willing to assume the risks.
That said, let’s hope that China’s national policies move with greater determination toward clean air and water as the country’s development continues.

China career boost can come with health risks – seattlepi.com.

Go ahead; Make my day. Or, perception is reality.

Go ahead; Make my day. Or, perception is reality.

 

Jan Morgan media recently sent a note about signs. The right sign to put on the school is not an invitation to catastrophe, as in “This is a gun-free zone.” It is, rather, just the opposite. Something along the line of the “Never mind the dog; beware of owner” signs we’ve seen printed just above the outline of a large caliber sidearm.

 

Such things are not foolish. Ask any home security expert about the efficacy of a yard sign. Doesn’t matter if you actually have the world’s best burglar alarm installed on every window and every door, or if your alarm system has a name and needs to be walked and fed, or if you have nothing but that yard sign attesting to the presence of a security system; the sign will discourage bad guys. The sign is the system. Who knows what might be in store for one who proceeds?

 

It’s behavior modification we’re interested in, not actually hearing the alarm siren, or the dog snarling, or ultimately, the report of a firearm.

 

Look up deterrence. You’ll find it in the dictionary under Bad Things that Didn’t Happen.

 

So what if we can’t afford (this year) to put a trained, armed guard at every schoolhouse door? Do it to ten percent of the schools and change the signage on all of them. Make it an unattractive location for a crazed killer. The message at the schoolhouse door no longer welcomes armed idiots. It then becomes reminiscent of Dirty Harry’s challenge to the punk: “Well? Do ya’?”

What’s it all about? (apologies to Alfie)

Matthew Warner has done a wonderful thing recently; he’s begun a year-long effort to encourage us to read, yes read, actually read the Catholic Catechism. You know, the rulebook. What is, and what isn’t Catholic teaching. It’s all there, full of footnotes, sidenotes, Scripture references galore. It’s big. Some may think it’s too big. So Matt has decided to make it easy on us.

Hie three to flocknote and sign up http://www.flocknote.com/catechism It’s free and it’s a grand idea. Daily emails. It began on Oct 11th, so hop on the wagon quick. You can catch up easily, or just jump on where you find yourself.

God bless you. This is the easiest was to discover What The Church Teaches from the source.

Well, are you?

Now that the conventions have (Thanks be to God) come to an end, I was struck by the remarks of a blogger I follow. It helped me do some necessary personal recollection; I pass her post along for your review. Good questions. Thoughtful comments anticipated.

Are You Better Off Than You Were Four Years Ago? http://redcardigan.blogspot.com/2012/09/better-off-now.html

Onions.

Onions.

We’re growing little onions. They’ve survived the winter. No so for the peppers.

Amazing, how we are spread “all over the map” when we look at our lives. I mean, I have two laptops, tons of software that lets me do things I couldn’t imagine when I was a kid, and yet we grow onions in a tin pot on the porch. No technology there. None. Dirt. Water. Interesting how daily life covers the spectrum of our existence. The phrase “From the sublime to the ridiculous” comes to mind. I just can’t decide which is which. [Garden]

 

Did Obama administration discriminate against Catholic group by denying trafficking grant? – Jill Stanek

I’m getting to enjoy her blog more and more. The subjects aren’t fun, but the writing is outstanding. You go, Ms. Stanek.

Did Obama administration discriminate against Catholic group by denying trafficking grant? – Jill Stanek.

And for those who wonder about the Catholic Church’s larger role in our society, check out the video called Epic 120 at Catholics Come Home.

Operation Sacred Soil – Jill Stanek

“…with her typing fingers on the pro-life pulse,” she says, Ms. Stanek brings us a report on Operation Sacred Soil.

Operation Sacred Soil – Jill Stanek.

Check out this article and the steps we can take to hold fast.

Mark Shea says Resist Gay Brownshirts

This guy calls ‘em like he sees ‘em. I’m with ya’, pal.

Gay “marriage” is all about the legal justification for the crushing and suppression of Christian conscience. That’s what it exists for. It is a tool in the growing arsenal of tools by which radical and intolerantly militant homosexuals hope to extirpate Christian conscience from the public square.

Resist.

via Gay Brownshirts on the March! | Catholic and Enjoying It!.

“Well Actually, He’s Not Talking to You.” Answering One Critique of the New Translation | Archdiocese of Washington

What a great insight this priest has. [Insert big grin here] On the nose, Father, on the nose. Please read the rest of the article.

But here we come to an important insight that, though it is not politically correct, is still true: The priest is not talking to you. He is not directing the prayer to you, and the first purpose of the prayer is not that you understand it perfectly. The prayer is directed to God, (most often, to God the Father). The priest is speaking to God, and is doing so on your behalf, and that of the whole Church. And God is wholly able to understand the prayer, no matter how complicated its structure.

via “Well Actually, He’s Not Talking to You.” Answering One Critique of the New Translation | Archdiocese of Washington.

Our visit to Xi’an (pt2)

Today is Tuesday or Wednesday, I don’t know which. This is day 2 of our holiday to Xi’an. Yesterday morning we arrived at the train station around 8:30. We were met by our guide who will stay with our group of 20 for our visit.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I should tell you about our train trip.

There are four ways to travel by train in China, ranging from quite comfortable to truly torturous. The four classes are soft sleeper, hard sleeper, soft seat and hard seat. As you can imagine, the sleeping classes are best for overnight trips, although many travelers choose to snooze while sitting. So far, we haven’t experienced either hard or soft seats; our train trips all have been overnighters. I’m becoming adept at climbing small ladders to the top bunk. A soft sleeper is what I wanted, but a hard sleeper is what we got. Soft sleeper accommodation is actually a compartment in a car (semi-private, I think) supposed to be very comfortable for travelling. On the other hand, hard sleeper is one step above cattle-car class, but at least the cattle passengers are a courteous lot, for the most part.

The train cars sleep 66 souls each, with two triple bunks per open compartment. Privacy is non-existent. If you need to change clothes, you do it under the comforter, on your bed (or not, as you choose). There are no seats except for two fold-down shelf seats in the aisle across from each compartment…so that’s 22 small seats for 66 people. You sit or lie on your bunk bed. It’s just not convenient or comfortable travel while you’re awake. But, it’s only a one-day trip.

We boarded at 4pm. Supper was dry noodles like everybody knows (and college kids survive on) with hot water supplied by the train, plus a side dish of sesame seed crackers and grapes for dessert. When it was time for sleep, I only hit my head once on the ceiling above my bunk. There isn’t enough room to sit up straight, as I learned. Although the bunk was narrow, there was a strong railing at the side, so I stayed put where I belonged throughout the night. Sleep was fitful; we met the dawn as we rode through the outskirts of Xi’an, passing alongside some small but very steep hills. Very picturesque. (Are these karsts? Dictionary time.)

The train pulled into Xi’an at around 9:00, roughly 17 hours after departing Shanghai. Once the train came to a stop we joined the exodus into the unknown.

Understand, travel with a wheelchair adds a degree of uncertainty to the adventure.

We like adventure. Sometimes adventure brings good surprises.

For example, (Don’t worry, we’ll get back to the story in a paragraph or two.) when we visited the Shanghai Expo 2010 (the world’s fair) last year, the Maori warriors at the New Zealand pavilion made us especially welcome. Now, if you’ve seen these guys and gals, you know they are performers at heart. Sometime in history the Maori men discovered the concept of offensive defense and thereby took to meeting any supposed enemy visitors to their land with a show of fierce, if not force. By showing up half-naked, in threatening body postures –with spears and knives in hand– making the most grotesque facial expressions they could imagine, coupled with what looks to me to be strangely inviting smiles (“You want some of this?”) they strategized to frighten away any newcomers. The ceremonial troupe put on a show that was entirely entertaining and every so often a little scary to the folks in the front row of the audience.

Guess where we were.

This particular afternoon at Expo, Marianne didn’t have to work at the Sunshine Pavilion, so we went for a stroll and, as you know now, came upon the New Zealand pavilion. She had seen the place as it was being constructed, but hadn’t been there since it opened. As we approached, we found the outdoor show about to begin so we hustled over and positioned ourselves right up front against the guard rail. Soon, we were part of a crowd. To their credit, most of the other visitors noticed that Marianne was in a wheelchair and allowed her to have a good view of the show. Only occasionally did we have to tap on a shoulder to invite someone to give way. In every case, they did so graciously.

OK, got the picture? A crowd of Chinese five-foot fours gathered around and behind one American five-foot nine guy and a woman in a wheelchair.

We don’t blend in well.

After their tongue-sticking, spear wiggling, eye-popping, grunting, jumping, if-I-was-the-enemy-I’d-give-up-right-then-and-there show, they agreed to pose for pictures with the crowd and, having seen her obvious enjoyment (remember, she’s the one in the front row…in the wheelchair..with the tall white guy) they invited Marianne to come up to the stage for a group picture. (It’s gratifying to see her treated well in cases like this, especially considering the blatant discrimination she received growing up in the PRC during the Cultural Revolution. (Back to the story interruption; the story will resume presently.) The NZ actors invited her to join them in a group picture, but the rather well-built crowd barrier blocked her way. So, being warriors and all, they simply dismantled it–then and there–using pen knives, fingertips and brute strength. As they were tearing apart their own barricades to allow Marianne-on-wheels to approach, they kept answering her protests (not wanting to be a bother) with the phrase, “No worries, Mate!” At last the gates were down and she rolled in to the stage area for several photographs with the nastiest warriors in  town. She was absolutely overjoyed. I think it was a combination of having her picture taken with these handsome men and beautiful women plus the amazing over-the-top personal attention she received from them. It was touching to see her tears of joy. I think I had as much fun watching as she did participating.

Since that time we have adopted the catch phrase, “No worries, Mate!” as our own. It signals our shared confidence in the future under God’s protection, come what may, as well as our happiness at meeting some challenges in our daily lives, often having to do with accessibility. Which brings us back to Xi’an and the train station.