Things Catholic

I don't pretend to be an expert on my Faith. As a Vatican II baby and the product of a well intentioned yet dubious CCD program it has been a struggle the last few years to play catch up in the pursuit of a knowledge base that I feel is appropriate for a Catholic Adult. Where I can make time in a busy schedule I struggle with Latin, try to make important liturgical celebrations and just try to polish what has turned out to be a very unfinished piece of educational woodwork.

In this pursuit I have had the benefit of some very patient and learned clergy who take the time to teach their flocks and provide ongoing support for growth. Soon, Holy Mass will change somewhat with better translations that will result in the new English language version of the Mass. You would think this would be a welcome development. After all, as a Faith rich in tradition we should endeavor to stay as true to our roots as possible. Apparently in addition to being mistaken, I am also a bit dim.

WASHINGTON – Bishop Donald W. Trautman of Erie, Pa., former chairman of the U.S. bishops’ liturgy committee, sharply criticized what he called the “slavishly literal” translation into English of the new Roman Missal from the original Latin.

He said the “sacred language” used by translators “tends to be elitist and remote from everyday speech and frequently not understandable” and could lead to a “pastoral disaster.”

“The vast majority of God’s people in the assembly are not familiar with words of the new missal like ‘ineffable,’ ‘consubstantial,’ ‘incarnate,’ ‘inviolate,’ ‘oblation,’ ‘ignominy,’ ‘precursor,’ ‘suffused’ and ‘unvanquished.’ The vocabulary is not readily understandable by the average Catholic,” Bishop Trautman said.

Not to question the teaching authority of a Bishop but I had always understood that the primary responsibility of a Diocesan Ordinary is to TEACH. So in an instance where the vast majority of us pew sitters are not familiar with words of more than two syllables, should not the focus then be on uplifting the flock both spiritually and intellectually?

Touching back on Vatican II this is clearly a case of reaping what one sows. When a centuries old style of worship is removed willy nilly and dumbed down what does one expect? There are a great many commentaries on the web today both supporting and challenging Bishop Trautman's stance.

A basic tenant of gardening is that if the roots are week the plant will wither and die. It is time as Catholics to return to our roots (Brick by Brick as the de facto flying Bishop of the Internet Father Z would say) and ensure that they are healthy and capable of delivering the fragrant fruit of the Good News.

The rest of Bishop Trautman's comments here.

Pass the Kleenex

Seen at right courtesy of a Fox News photo is the Somali pirate Abdiwali Abdiqadir Muse on his arrival in NY City. Looking like he was was walking the red carpet at an award show the coward smiled like a basic celbutard. In fact the only missing item from the ensemble was a micro dog in an over sized handbag. Apparently during his court appearance today his mood became a bit more somber as the US Magistrate bound him over for trial after determining that he is not a juvenile and would be tried as an adult. Described by some outlets as a teen, the pirate is facing a lengthy prison sentence on charges of piracy and hostage taking. Apparently the absence of his AK 47 made him feel a bit less optimistic. He cried. ( cue violin music please).

In a related story, the subjects Mommy has already appealed to President Obama for pardon as she felt that the poor misguided youth had been mislead by "gangsters with money". She requested that she be able to spend time with her son during his trial. Why not? Go right on over to the Mogadishu International Airport, whip out your Somalian Express card and book a flight. I am sure our new administration will be most accommodating. I just hope the poor women takes care in traversing her capitol city. I wouldn't want her to trip over the burnt out fuselage of a Blackhawk Helicopter or the body of a brave American GI that might have been left there by the last Democratic Administration.

Comments

I just received a comment from my post Irony Defined in which the subject of my post sent a polite note defending her material support of Planned Parenthood and their activities. In her missive she states "besides abortion.......". I am going to stop there because that is precisely the point. It does not matter what other services that Planned Parenthood offers. Whether they offer free pap smears or help old ladies across the street the fact that they provide unrestricted access to abortion on demand negates any possible positive impact they may have on society. In retrospect I probably should not have called her an imbecile. In my defense at least I did not call her an accessory to murder.

You want me to what?

From FoxNews.com:

LEXINGTON, Va -- Americans today are self-indulgent and don't make the sacrifices that their parents and grandparents did, and the nation's leaders don't ask people to act for the higher good, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas said Monday at a Virginia college in a rare public speech.

"Our country and our principles are more important than our individual wants," Thomas told close to 400 people who greeted him with a standing ovation at Washington and Lee University, a Shenandoah Valley liberal arts school.

Yes! As anyone knows we are all called to service for the common good. We are obliged as citizens of this great nation to work hard, better ourselves and contribute in a positive way to our society by any means within our abilities. Of course for many of us this comes as no surprise. And if more people thought like this brilliant man instead of standing around with a sign that says "Obama pay my mortgage" we wouldn't be in the maelstrom of economic and social upheaval we are in know. Here is a man who overcame poverty and racism to rise to the highest court in the land despite the despicable attempts of Kennedy and his fellow swine to besmirch his good name. Take a good look at this man and Justices Scalia, Roberts and Alito. Its a safe bet you won't see any like minded appointees in the next four years.

I also found this part of the article interesting.

The court's only black justice spoke with reverence of the priests and nuns who taught him at what had previously been an all-white Roman Catholic school that he began attending in 1964.

"They were the ones who taught us we were inherently equal," said Thomas, a Georgia native.

Another reason you should hit me in the head with a 9 iron if you ever hear me complain about tuition payments again.


Buy it, Read it!

Recidivism

A tendency to relapse into a previous condition or mode of behavior.

In the twenty five years or so since I left the employ of the NJ Department of Corrections to find my fortune in the milieu of police work and EMS I like to think I have grown in many ways. Even beyond my over forty food tumor I think that through hard work and the judicious examination of life's lessons I have become a better person. Occasionally I wonder what happened to the hundreds of inmates that I had come to know in my four years in the service of the State of New Jersey. Frankly, most of the convicts I knew are still locked up even after these long twenty five years.

Yesterday there was a bank robbery in Franklin. After a high speed chase and running gun battle through two towns I was sent to the scene of a shooting where three suspects had sustained gun shot wounds. Imagine my surprise as I gazed upon a fellow lying on the ground with several extra holes in his extremeties and was able to say, "hey I know you. You used to lock on 6 Left." He smiled and said "Hey Officer Ski." Heartwarming isn't it? If nothing else it should give you confidence in our society's ability to rehabilitate criminals.

Tools of the trade

Next time you engage in a discussion with a "pro choice" advocate, ask them which they prefer. This...............

or this.....

Where Democrats come from

Parenting is never an easy job. About the time you get over the intoxication of that “new baby smell” and the astounding idea that you have actually procreated you come to the inescapable conclusion that someone by now should have had the courtesy to compile some sort of owners manual. Absent such an easy method you ply undaunted into uncharted waters and engage in the time honored method of flying by the seat of your pants. But even the most inexperienced sailor can manage some kind of rudimentary navigation with a basic compass. Unless you were raised by apes you possess this moral inertial guidance system courtesy of your parents.

Now I am sure that in the course of your upbringing there have been a host of things your parents did that you took issue with. But after careful adult consideration of their efforts you come to find that they did a fairly competent job. Dare I say that unless you were beaten with an extension cord or burned with cigarettes you have probably adopted most of if not all of the parenting skills they employed in your upbringing. Clearly, by the time the ripest fruit of your loins achieves young adulthood you can see your efforts paying dividends. Sometimes, this might be a bit much to assume. Case in point: Not long ago a group of students took over a building at NYU to protest the Israeli invasion of Gaza. Thankfully, after a brief and meaningless occupation the administration of the school had them removed and suspended them pending disciplinary action. Somewhere, several sets of parents have this to be proud of. (It’s a bit long but give it a look and note the witty repartee an incomplete undergraduate education and privileged upbringing provides)



Now I can’t speak for all of you but I can assure you that if after busting my ass for twenty years working two full time jobs and trying to be the best parent I could this was the result, there would be a toothless twenty year old residing in my shed missing several teeth circling the want adds with a borrowed crayon. I can also state with a large degree of certainty that I would consider defrosting my reproductive organs in the microwave to ensure that the same mistake would never be repeated.

It enrages me that imbeciles with no life experience can even think about disrupting the lawful comings and goings of others who have worked hard to enjoy the privilege of bettering themselves. A collection of doltish neo adolescents who would impose their uninformed and immature views on others while causing inconvenience and great expense while mindlessly compelling productive members of society to alter their lives and activities to accommodate their childish and reckless behavior. Future Democratic candidates one and all. Nothing a can of mace and an angry police dog couldn't’t have cured.

NB: Had the administration had some spine the NYPD could have ended this in about sixty seconds. My shift could have done it in ten.

Orthodoxy Defined

Sometimes a brave man can change the world. Following is a brief passage from a letter in a parish bulletin in Escondido, California authored by its pastor Fr. Richard Perozich.

The first 100 days of a new presidency is the time when legislation desired by the new leader is rammed through the congress without much discussion and over the objections of the minority party. It often is not good legislation, has been brewing in the hearts of special interest groups for years, who now have a vehicle to impose their will on the American people.

If the special interest groups have their way, it will spell the end of days for the American nation as we have known it since 1776. Abominations will be forced on us by the new government, such as which our founders never had intended, and certainly opposed to the Christian life: abortion on demand, homogenital sex, lust in all its forms, euthanasia, oppression of opportunity and entrepreneurs, silencing of faith and free speech among many.

The rest of his letter to his flock can be found here. I recommend that you read it in its entirety. It is thought provoking and TRUE.

Nursing Management, a true oxymoron

Moron is truly the operative part of the phrase. While the rest of the world functions on a monthly schedule that actually spans from the first to the last of the month the parallel universe of nursing schedules from the 15th to the 15th. Can anyone out in the real world explain why? Or is it just another way to make life all that much more inconvenient? Okay, I fell a little better now.

Somewhere Gerald Ford is Smiling

Not a big deal but the President on his fifth flight on Marine One slammed his noggin in to the door frame. Two questions leap to mind. First, will Chevy Chase revive his career but lampooning our Chief Executive's clumsiness? Second, will this errant blow to the head knock some sense in to him and prevent the implementation of his "economic stimulus" program that is sure to bankrupt the real middle class?

Middle class. It is clear that not one solitary soul (hey there's an oxymoron screaming for comment) in Washington has an idea of what that term means. The true middle class are those of us that went to college, have a working spouse and a part time job and are footing the bills for the political middle class. You know us, we're the folks putting off vacations and driving crappy cars to keep our kids in parochial schools and out of a failed and morally bankrupt public education system. You've probably seen us driving bleary eyed from side job to side job in an effort to sock away money in a retirement account while the gluttonous swine in DC (eg. Nancy Pelosi) conspire to find ways to "manage" it away for us.

So when next you see or hear a politician state that they are going to "save" the middle class don't be deluded into thinking next years tax bite will be any less for you. It will be designed to "stimulate" those folks who are content to work their forty hour week, lay on the couch and make not one effort to improve the futures of their children or themselves. Your best intentions aside, that's who you are working for.

Kevlar Crozier

The Bishop of Scranton Pennsylvania H. E. the Most Reverend Joseph Martino does not beat around the bush when it comes to calling out alleged Catholics who support abortion. Bishop Martino recently published a letter he sent to Senator Robert Casey D-PA regarding his recent vote to rescind the Mexico City policy which prohibited federal dollars from being used to fund abortions over seas. While a good number of the Episcopacy wring their hands and fret this good man has taken the bull by the horns.

He said in part "Your vote against the Mexico City Policy will mean the deaths of thousands of unborn children. This is an offense against life and a denial of our Catholic teaching on the dignity of every human being. This action is worthy of condemnation by all moral men and women."

Thats just the warm up. You can read more on this over at
Father Z's WDTPRS or go right to the Diocesan Website.

How about them apples

On a rare evening off with the children out of the house my wife and I ventured forth to spend a bit of quality time alone. As she had an upcoming social engagement and needed to grab a small gift we went to a local store that specializes in home décor ranging from large furniture to the more common knick knack. To say my wife and I don’t get an opportunity like this too often is an understatement. As a matter of fact my son pointed out that the last time he remembered the two of us being able to go to a movie was when he was a sophomore in high school. He’s now in his second year of college.

As we leisurely walked about the store I was fascinated by a good many things, some tangible, others less so. First there were the requisite husbands dutifully following their wives around while quietly praying for death after being asked their opinion of one china pattern or another. Then there was the twenty something well dressed professional man browsing the wine glasses most probably for a dalliance with a young lady he had planned for later in the evening. Poor bastard. Little does he realize that it’s such a dalliance that will land him in circumstances identical to the aforementioned muttering husbands in no time at all.

The most fascinating observation I made however is the time and care women will put in to looking for just that right accent for their home décor. Now it’s not that I don’t appreciate the care and pride my wife takes in decorating our house. But it occurs to me that if women spent just a fraction of the time and intense attention to detail that goes in to picking just the right tin lamp or country styled plaque with a clever saying perhaps the world might be an even better place.

On the other hand, maybe the world would be even better if Nancy Pelosi went out shopping for some knick knacks of her own. Maybe she’d like some nice large wooden apples.

Circle the wagons

In the last two weeks there have been a great many important events in the world of religion. Some of them have the potential to dramatically alter the shape of Christianity in a way not contemplated since the Protestant Reformation.

On top of the list is the lifting by Pope Benedict XVI of the excommunication of the Bishops of the Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX). For those of you not familiar with the history involved here is a bit of background.

During the Pontificate of Blessed Pope John XXIII an ecumenical council later to be commonly referred to as Vatican II changed the manner in which Roman Catholics worship. The prevalence of Latin in the liturgy and many other traditions fell by the wayside as the Church attempted to become more relevant in the changing climate of the sixties. Traditionalists, like those of the SSPX held on to the traditions of the "old church" and after a series of events culminating in the unapproved ordination of four bishops were separated from communion with the Church.

This week the Pope lifted those excommunications. While there are still many issues to be ironed out with respect to full return of SSPX to the Roman Catholic fold it appears that this issue is on the fast track and will result in to the joyous return of this prodigal traditional element of the Faith.

Another big event being bandied about the blog sphere is what appears to be the imminent inclusion of the Traditional Anglican Church (TAC) in to the Roman Catholic Church as a personal prelature. The ramifications of a half million conservative Anglicans "swimming the Tiber" has huge implications particularly with the talks of schism in the Anglican Church between more traditional minded adherents and those that support the ordination of women and homosexuals.

As the political world has taken a sharp left turn both here and abroad it is interesting to note that conservative religious seem to be banding together. And while these developments have been decades in the making it is interesting to consider that stimulus to bring these events to fruition is the leftward shift in our politics.

As a nation we are morally tetering on the brink. Our new President has indicated his complete support for the Freedom of Choice Act (FOCA). This legislation will allow abortion on demand. Additionally it will remove mandates for parental notification and allow for greater Federal funding of abotions and related procedures. At the bottom of this slippery slope is something that should concern all health care providers. The absoulte removal of protections allowing persons personally opposed to these "freedoms" from participating in infantcide. Simply put, a nurse who can now refuse to participate in aborting a fetus will lose the ability to do so.

It is easy I suppose in the abstract to say you are not morally opposed to abortion. When you are the one that will have to pass the forceps to the doctor to crush a baby's skull will you have the same resolve? Will you be able to stand idly by in the procedure room and watch these events unfold?

If not, there will be plenty of room in the circle.

Code Brown, I say again, Code Brown

Ever find yourself confronted with someone covered in their own excrement? Come on, no "you can't believe what happened when I fed little Johnny strained peas" stories. I mean a "fully functioning adult, half naked, covered in his or her own fecal matter. Didn't think so. But I guess from here you can guess where my night is headed.

I guess that's why I chuckle when I see a new "reality" show on television. Undoubtedly the most contrived nonsense ever to hit the airways. I truly wonder how many Paramedics and Nurses would have chosen a much different career had there been but one episode depicting what this business is really all about. How about, Emergency? Johnny and Roy respond to the aftermath of the 1974 greater Los Angeles Chili Cook Off. Or maybe Third Watch. We could give a riveting teleplay for Soho Salmonella.

So next time you are sitting in your boring office cubicle watching "on demand" versions of your favorite show pining for a more exciting career, try to picture that gorgeous actor/actress with the days oral intake magically dripping down their legs. It will give you a reality that will redefine Must Watch TV.

And for goodness sake guys......more fiber.....please.

Port of call

Every once in a while I witness a behavior that in of itself isn't all that offensive. However, when I then remember the eight or nine previous times I have seen the same scenario I feel I must pause to comment. So, as I was in the midst of an inter facility transport today we were delayed by our elderly patient who was upset that her "adult" son would not be able to accompany her in the ambulance for her ride to the new hospital. Despite our assurances that we would be happy to accommodate this very reasonable request she was inconsolable until "sonny" came back from having a coke and a smoke somewhere else in the hospital building. As I watched the interplay between "momma" and "sonny" several things became abundantly clear and I again realized that advice my father had given me many years ago was right on target.

Sonny was my age (mid forties) and did not drive. He seemed to be of reasonably normal intelligence, had no obvious physical limitations, spoke clearly and from what I could tell should probably be a contributing member of society. However, on closer listening to the interplay between the two characters in our little vignette it became clear to me that sonny was a leach who not only still lived with mom but was totally dependent on her for every need.

Now there is nothing wrong with being dependent on someone, particularly in the case of this old lady. Clearly sick and old, at this stage of the game she should have someone to depend on for her needs. Married people with children depend upon each other to meet all the responsibilities of parenting, most times both spouses work to provide sufficient income so her in the Peoples Republic of New Jersey your family does not wind up living in some sad little shed because the state government needs more of your money to fund failing Abbott District schools. Sadly, "sonny" will not be filling this type of role. Because he, like too many other over dependent "adult" children never learned how to fend for themselves and remain in this artificial child like state waiting for "mommy" to take care of his needs.

I remember my Dad explaining to me that raising children is kind of like a ride in a boat. When the kids are small you have to do all of the rowing and make sure they have their life jacket on. As they get a bit older you try to coax them over the side in order that they can learn how to swim on their own. At some point however if they are going to be stubborn you might be called upon to toss them over the side so they can learn to save themselves. That's not to say that you row away and leave them to drown. On some level no matter how old you and your parents get it seems they are always near by in the boat ready to throw you a life line if you need one. But not "sonny". He and so many like him got booked in to a first class cabin and have no plans on setting foot on the dock.

Blessings in disguise

I received this via email this morning. The author is unknown.

In 1974 when I first joined the police department, I knew there would be special occasions my family would spend without me; knowing that fact didn’t make the task any easier. The celebrations I missed those first years depressed me and sometimes made me feel bitter. Working on Christmas Eve was always the worst.

On Christmas Eve in 1977, I learned that blessing can come disguised as misfortune, and honor is more than just a word. I was riding a one man patrol on the 4 to 12 shift. The night was cold. Everywhere I looked I saw reminders of the holiday: families packing their cars with presents, beautifully decorated trees in living room windows and roofs adorned with tiny sleighs. It all added to my holiday loneliness. The evening had been relatively quiet; there were the usual calls for barking dogs and a residential false burglar alarm. There was nothing to make the night pass any quicker. I thought of my own family and it saddened me further.

Shortly after 2200 hours, I got a radio call to the home of an elderly, terminally ill man. I parked my patrol car in front of a simple Cape Cod style home. First aid kit in hand, I walked up the short path to the front door. As I approached, a woman who seemed to be about 80 years old opened the door.

“He's in here,” she said, leading me to a back bedroom. We passed through a living room that was furnished in a style I had come to associate with older people. The sofa has an afghan blanket draped over its back and a dark solid Queen Anne chair sat next to an unused fireplace. The mantle was cluttered with an eccentric mix of several photos, som e ceramic figurines and an antique clock. A floor lamp provided soft lighting.

We entered a small bedroom where a frail looking man lay in bed with a blanket pulled up to his chin. He wore a blank stare on his ashen, skeletal face. His breathing was shallow and labored. He was barely alive. The trappings of illness were all around his bed. The nightstand was littered with a large number of pill vials. An oxygen bottle stood nearby. Its plastic hose, with facemask attached rested on the blanket. I asked the old woman why she called the police. She simply shrugged and nodded sadly toward her husband, indicating it was his request.

I looked at him and he stared intently into my eyes. He seemed relaxed now. I didn’t understand the suddenly calm expression on his face. I looked around the room again. A dresser stood along the wall to the left of the bed. On it was the usual memorabilia: ornate perfume bottles, white porcelain pin case, and a wooden jewelry case. There were also several photos in simple frames. One caught my eye and I walked closer to the dresser for a closer look. The picture showed a young man dressed in a police uniform. It was unmistakably a photo of the man in bed. I knew then why I was there. I looked at the old man and he motioned with his hand toward the side of the bed. I walked over and stood beside him. He slid a thin arm from under the covers and took my hand. Soon I felt his hand go limp, I looked at his face. The re was no fear there. I saw only peace. He knew he was dying; he was aware his time was very near. I know now that he was afraid of what was about to happen and he wanted the protection of a fellow cop on his journey. A caring God had seen to it that his child would be delivered safely to him. The honor of being his escort fell to me.

When I left at the end of my tour that night, the temperature had seemed to rise considerably, and all the holiday displays I saw on the way home made me smile. I no longer feel sorry for myself for having to work on Christmas Eve. I have chosen an honorable profession. I pray that when it's my turn to leave this world here will be a cop there to hold my hand and remind me that I have nothing to fear.

I wish all my brother's and sister's who have to work this Christmas Eve all the Joy and Warmth of the Season.

Okay, who pulled the emergency brake?

This one was forwarded to me via email by my brother. A good sentiment to remind us to end the madness and get in to the true spirit.

Twas the month before Christmas

When all through the land

Not a Christian was praying

Nor taking a stand

Why the PC Police had taken away

The reason for Christmas, no one could say

The children were told by their schools not to sing

About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things

It might hurt peoples feelings the teachers would say

December 25th is just a "Holiday"

Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit

Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it

CDs from Madonna, an X Box and I Pod

Something was changing, something quite odd.

Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa

In hopes to sell books by Franken and Fonda

As Targets were hanging their trees upside down

At Lowes the word Christmas was no where to be found

At Kmart and Staples and Penny's and Sears

You won't hear the word Christmas, it won't touch your ears

Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty

Are the words that were used to intimidate me

Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzer

On Boxer, on Rather, on Boxer and Clinton

At the top of the Senate there arose such a clatter

To eliminate Jesus in all public manner

And we spoke not a word as they took away our Faith

Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace

The true gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded

The reason for the season stopped before it started

So as you celebrate winter break under your pine tree

Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me

Choose your words carefully, choose what you say

Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS, not happy holiday

We know not the time or the hour.....

Early this morning while wearing my Paramedic hat my partner and I were sent to the typical early Saturday morning call for an unconscious man. Before even leaving the driveway we were updated by the local BLS agency that CPR was in progress via phone instructions by the 911 operator.

When we arrived the BLS was attempting a resuscitation on a man in his forties. It was apparent to even the most casual observer (the BLS excluded) that he was far beyond any reasonable means to resuscitate. After we confirmed the necessary physical findings and ceased all EMS activities, the cops, BLS and my partner went outside to restock, etc and I was left in the presence of one freshly minted widow. She asked me what we would do next. It was at that moment I realized that she had no clue that her husband was dead. She watched the BLS do CPR, saw the cops stand idly by with a look of consternation on their face and was in full view while we unplugged our machinery and obtained a pronouncement from medical control. When I told her it was likely he had died sometime during the night she was utterly shocked. At first I don't think she really believed me.

All the more reason to have a life firmly grounded in reality and not reality TV.

Turkey, stuffing and faith in action

Its not hard to be thankful. Usually a quick look in the local paper is enough to provide a story heart wrenching enough to temper any bad feelings about your lot in life. Today was the annual Thanksgiving fiesta at our home. I think it was a record breaker in that we hosted thirty eight dinner guests. Friends, family and an overabundance of food.

Life has its way of throwing the occasional curve ball our way. But looking around the crowd today it struck me more so this year that I am a very lucky man. Yes, we get on each others nerves occasionally, or someone may feel slighted over a a misdeed (either real or imagined) but in the scope of things that's all small potatoes.

I was happy today that my Mother in Law's two sisters were able to join us. Due to distance it is sometimes difficult to get all three of them in the same room. They are all in their eighties and the oldest is not likely to see another Thanksgiving at our home. Yet, despite the "crepe hanging" most people would engage in faced with what inevitably will be upcoming sadness, they were content to spend time with each other, talk about some old times and just enjoy being together for what may be the last time. That is where faith comes in to play. Armed with the knowledge that God loves us and the that this life is the beginning, facing death is not a time to be sad. Surely when a loved one dies there is a sadness but one of a selfish type. If you live by the rules and practice your faith you know that you will live again. After watching these three ladies today I saw the absolute application of that faith in action.

Bastard Child

Whatever your profession I am sure that at some point you have had to endure the idealistic pursuits of someone new to the fold. You know the type, young, full of enthusiasm and dreadfully annoying to anyone who has been on the job for more than twenty minutes. In the uniformed services (Fire, Police, EMS) this type of behavior tends to be magnified and as a consequence is exponentially more annoying. Each year various EMS agencies celebrate EMS week in one form or another. Usually some public observance involving service awards is involved and employers usually provide a token "gift" for their loyal EMS staff. Routinely the attitude of most is that they would rather have the $4.95 instead of the "gift". In 2006 one particularly upbeat neophyte attempted to organize a party for EMS week. What follows is my response to the E Vite.

Thanks for the invite but I will be quietly ringing in EMS Week this year at home with my family. After our traditional meal of SPAM and deli scraps collected from generous local benefactors we will stare directly in to the sun until our eyes blink at such a velocity that we will begin to truly believe, if only for a few moments that our employer pays us a competitive wage and that Human Resources is not some ironic oxymoron. Then we will go door to door to collect funds to assist those less fortunate than us (perhaps the local fish monger this year) after which we will retire to our humble home where I will sob quietly in to my pillow while I contemplate one particularly bad choice in my life.

What the uninitiated probably don't understand is that the Emergency Medical Services is the bastard child of the Uniformed Services. Most of us who have done it for any length of time understand and accept this. And in many ways that is OK. After all, the Fire and Police Departments have a much more dangerous job and are obligated to provide most of the "Hero" services. We are usually around to just pick up the pieces. But for the men and women that provide this service as a full time career there is an issue of wages and compensation that lag far behind the other two legs of the tripod. This rookie just caught me on a bad day. I wonder if I should have apologized or billed for tuition.