Saturday, June 10, 2017


Gender confusion is a psychological disorder, but it's more than just that.  It brings with it, other disorders including grammatical disorders.  Gender confused people and those who tolerate them just don’t know how to talk anymore.

People are either fearful of PC speech violations or they have forgotten basic third-grade grammar.  Everywhere in our vernacular street language, as well as in media and literature, is the evident disorder of Pronoun confusion.

The pronouns "they" and "them" are plurals and I find it extremely awkward to use them as PC substitutes for singular, gender specific pronouns.  Besides, it rubs me the wrong way.

For example, if you were to say,  "If a person commits a crime, THEY should be punished,” I think you should be punished for your grammar crime.  The proper pronoun is "he," even if he is a woman because the masculine form is generic for all humans when gender is unspecific or all inclusive.

So just know this; I refuse to submit to ANY PC speech. I don't have the time or the desire to learn and understand all 56 of the gender variations that Facebook now recognizes.  I am just content to go with the two that God ordained at creation; "Male and Female created He, them."

If you are female, I will refer to you with grammatically correct feminine gender pronouns.  If you are male, I will use masculine pronouns.  If I am referring to anyone without gender specificity, I will use the generic masculine pronouns.
If you are confused or are not sure what you are, read your birth certificate.  And then, if you are still confused, ask an electrician to explain the difference between the two ends of an extension cord.

It's not really that difficult, folks.  When you confuse pronouns, you sound really stupid.

This ends my helpful hint of the day.  You’re Welcome!

Thursday, May 4, 2017

Mamas, Don't Let Your Boys Grow Up To Be Snowflakes

When I was a boy, my friends and I couldn't wait to grow up and become adults.  I remember when I was in the fourth grade and got my first job.  My mother didn’t even know I was selling newspapers until she bumped into me in the grocery store.  After the initial shock, she mellowed out and allowed me to continue because she knew it was good for me.  It wasn’t much but it was my job.  I earned my pay and I used it to pay for my stuff.

That was in 1957.  For a while, that year, my dad was working in Monterey (some distance from our home) so he stayed weekdays, in a motel room and came home on weekends.  One week, during the summer, he took me with him.  Every morning we ate breakfast and then he went off to work and left me, with a few coins in my pocket, to entertain myself until he got home in the evening.  I spent the entire week discovering the beautiful old town of Monterey.  I walked the streets, visited shops, museums, and historic places, and talked to lots of people (and I am only telling this, now, because both my parents are deceased so you can't report them to C.P.S and have them arrested).  It was a great adventure for a nine-year-old boy.
Even at that age, I had a bicycle (which I paid for myself) that afforded a great deal of freedom and mobility around town.  And as a Cub Scout, I was learning all kinds of skills I would need to survive and be productive; we learned how to fix things, shoot things, cook things, and make things.  Everything we did was with a view toward self-reliance, personal responsibility, and maturity. 

We learned, in the school of hard knocks, that “sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me.”  We learned how to defend ourselves from bullies.  We learned that boys don’t cry and that wounds heal without a doctor (in fact, they are battle scars that we shared as badges of honor).  We learned that life has winners and losers; we kept score when we played games.  We played dodge ball.   We learned that our self-esteem was not important; our self-respect was.  We rode our bikes without helmets and we drank water from garden hoses or streams.  We learned that boys never hit girls, that men open doors for ladies, that you don’t steal, and that you respect other people’s property.

We were boys in training to become men.  And we learned the art of manliness from our fathers, grandfathers, uncles, scoutmasters, pastors, and other men in our lives whose collective purpose was to launch us out of dependency and into maturity and productivity.  Every kid I knew had a father at home and each of them was partly responsible for my upbringing and discipline.

When I married, my wife and I were both 21. That was in 1969 and, in those days, that was a typical marrying age.  Not long ago Dennis Prager was doing a segment on his radio show about the failure of young people to mature.  He noted that the average marrying age in the U. S. was about 30 and, even at that age, women are marrying boys.   And, at that time, we even have a president who thought it necessary for kids to stay on their parents' health insurance policies until age 26.  What’s up with that?  Throughout history, in most cultures, boys were considered to be men by age 12 or 13.  But today we have a newly invented age category called adolescence which is a lame excuse for immature, ignorant, foolish, children who have not grown up.

And the problem is identifiable.  It is a lack of necessary and beneficial socialization.  One day my oldest grandson was talking to a lady who complimented him on his manners and maturity.  When she learned that he was home schooled, she raised the typical, ignorant, and inane objection to homeschooling, “What about socialization?”

Well, what about that?  Kids today ARE socialized.  But it is the wrong kind of socialization.  They spend most of their time with their peers and very little time with adults.  As a result, most don't know how to carry on an intelligent conversation with an adult.  The real question is, “Why do we think it is a good thing for our foolish, immature, delinquent children to be socialized by foolish, immature, delinquent children?”  After all these years, we still haven’t learned that IT ISN’T WORKING.  Socialization of children is the responsibility of adults. 

The good news is that there are some pockets of safe and sane socialization, in our 21st century American culture, such as Home School co-ops, Scouting, and Family Integrated Churches.  If you want your boys to grow up to be real men, you need to have real men in their lives.

"Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; The rod of correction will drive it far from him."  Proverbs 22:15

Saturday, April 22, 2017

L. A. Smog is NOT MY FAULT

Yeah, the LA basin is smoggy.  But it’s not our fault.

In 1542, two ships, commissioned by Spain, sailed up the California coast in search of the mythical Seven Cities of Gold and the Strait of Anián (believed to be the Northwest Passage).

The voyage was a failure but they hoped they might discover a coastal route to China. 
Nevertheless, commanded by a conquistador named Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, the voyage brought them to, what is now, San Pedro Bay where they encountered a huge, low hanging haze over the area.  From that voyage, we have the first written observations of the Los Angeles area which they named Baya de Los Fumos, or Bay of the Smoke.

But the region had another name given by the Chumash tribe of Native American Indians who settled here hundreds of years ago.   Los Angeles is basically a large, low basin surrounded by mountains, which is a natural trap for air pollution.

The Chumash people noticed that the smoke from their cooking fires would just hang low throughout the whole basin.  And the characteristic smog was consistent and significant enough to earn the name, which, translated into English, means “Valley Of Smoke.”

The haze was not caused by internal combustion engines, backyard incinerators, or industrial factories.  It was only smoke emanating from the Indian villages.  The smoke would rise into the air and flatten out against an invisible, atmospheric ceiling caused by temperature inversion.

The inversion layer forms when ocean breezes draw cool marine air onshore beneath a mass of warmer air above.  Held in place by the mountains that shelter Los Angeles on the north and east, the cool air then stabilizes, unable to rise through the warm air above. 

So, there you have it, folks.  The EPA, Algore, and all your nature-loving, earth worshiping whackos have been blaming YOU!   The L. A. basin will never be smog free even if you can prevent all the cattle from farting.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

Velvet-Covered Bricks

I read where one of our states passed a law requiring students to be polite.  School-aged children would be required to use words like “please” and “thank you” and they must address their teachers as “sir” or “ma’am.”  I think it’s a great idea.  Have you noticed how rude and abrasive people are these days? 

My first week as the administrator of a Christian Home, an employee stormed into my office and proceeded to unload her frustrations on me.  I don’t recall what her grievance was but I do remember her obtrusive and obnoxious manner.  And she had an extensive vocabulary of four-letter expletives that she crafted quite eloquently.  My guess is that her mother had never introduced her to the taste of Ivory Soap.

A few years ago my own pastor had to call me into his office to address my own harshness.  He told me that I should learn to be more like a “velvet covered brick”.  He explained that it is O.K. to be firm on principles, but it is never right to be rude. 

I find that being a brick is easy but, wearing the velvet; not so much.  Sometimes my velvet gets worn a little thin and I have to keep patching it up.  I have a couple velvet-covered brick bookends in my office as a reminder to keep my speech in check.

What impressions do we make on others?  Do we speak kindly with respect and love or are we just rude and nasty?  Anyone can yell at a waitress, chew out a clerk, or let off steam at a receptionist.  It is much more difficult to be kind and gentle, to demonstrate patience and understanding, and to practice self-control.  Not only is it worth the effort but it is evidence of the indwelling Spirit of God in the life of a Christian.

 The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, 
kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.