There's Always Something...

Salary Limitations...

I was reading about Stephon Marbury, inactive guard for the New York Knicks. As the story goes, he became such a problem for the team that the coach simply set him down. This made him mad, of course, so he refuses to play, even if/when the team might need him. Thing is, Stephon has $21,000,000.00 still coming to him on his contract - play or not. Nothing anyone can do.

Then, in the same city, there are the increasing numbers of people who have lost their jobs, their homes, everything. No entitlements for them.

Makes me wonder if part of our problem may be an unmentioned issue. How much money should any person be allowed to make/keep without infringing upon the rights of ordinary people?

Is anyone in our country really worth 5 million dollars a year? 10? 15? I read the other day that LeBron James, probably the best basketball player on the planet right now, would probably command a salary in excess of 30 million dollars in two years when his present contract expires. Is anyone worth that?

I think not. I don't see how a ceiling on income could ever be set in this country. It does seem possible, however, that huge taxes for the wealthiest might even things out a bit and help lesser beings have a bit more dignity and security in their lives.

So, maybe 50% tax on anything over $5 million. 75% on anything over $7.5 million. 95% on anything over $10. You get the picture. So Stephon would have to pay - what? - 95% tax on $11,000,000.00 in addition to the taxes he would pay on his first $10,000,000.00. Seems a lot to pay, but keep in mind that he doesn't have to do anything but show up and sit on the bench to keep what's left.

And think what the school districts, the medical care facilities, the crime prevention, etc. etc could do with Stephon's contribution.

"To promote the general welfare..." Great line. Not a bad thought or unhealthy direction.

I Turn 80 Tomorrow...

Doesn't seem quite real. But it is. In so many ways I feel quite young. Don't kid myself about that. Little things remind one. Younger ones seem to drop like flies - and we go merrily on - even if compromised here and there.

But in some ways age brings deep satisfactions that never were before. I wouldn't want to go back. Forward is good enough for me!

Grandma in Chief...

Few of us have been untouched by the dramatic changes that have taken place in family life over the past 75 years. It came as a real surprise to many white anglo-saxon Protestants when it was announced that Michelle Obama's mom would be moving to Washington to help with the daughters and their adjustments to a different way of life.

I came upon this article today on how and why this is happening and where it fits into racial differences in our culture. I found the article to be a fascinating read and it gave me more to think about than any Thanksgiving could possibly provide. I think you will find it will stimulate and stretch you. Best thing I've read in a long time. Makes you think!

Let it be my Thanksgiving gift to you...

Strange Thanksgiving Thoughts...

There are heavy matters at hand.

For one, word comes that Butterball turkeys has a 24/7 phone service, available to all, that helps folks solve their problems and emergencies in preparing Thanksgiving meals. A noble and worthy project. (1-800-288-8372)

One fellow (he had to be from Wisconsin, though I don't know that for sure) called in last Thanksgiving in a mild panic. He had neglected taking the turkey out of the freezer to defrost for a few days in the refrigerator, which his wife (I have no doubt) had asked him to do - and when Thanksgiving came around he was confronted with a frozen block of turkey ice. He decided to reduce the scope of the problem by reducing the turkey's size, took the bird out to his workbench in the garage and proceeded to do so with his chain-saw. The thing that concerned him and prompted the call was his wife's question as to whether the oil from the saw would ruin the flavor of the turkey.

Then yesterday I began the re-read of The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje, one of my favorite novels. On page 8, the nurse is reading to the horribly burned patient:

Your hands are getting rough, he said.

The weeds and thistles and digging.

I know.

Then she began to read.

Her father had taught her about hands. About a dog's paws. Whenever her father was alone with a dog in a house he would lean over and smell the skin at the base of its paw. This, he would say, as if coming away from a brandy snifter, is the greatest smell in the world! A bouquet! Great rumours of travel! She would pretend disgust, but the dog's paw was a wonder: The smell of it never suggested dirt. It's a cathedral! her father had said, so-and-so's garden, that field of grasses, a walk through cyclamen - a concentration of hints of all the paths the animal had taken during that day.

I thought about this. for some time, actually. Then I got up and disturbed our snoozing Spaniel, lifted him up and carried him over to my chair. Then I carefully smelled the skin at the base of his paw.

Ontdaatje was dead-right. It is indeed a lovely, provocative bouquet that points beyond itself.

And I was thankful.

Go Down Death...

I posted a link to our son Andy's blog recently. If you read it, you will know that he is living his life fully even though he is dying. His courage and wisdom are stunning. He reminds me of a film we saw a long time ago in which a man was dying of cancer and faced the issues honestly with his family. He made the comment towards the end of the movie: "I never really started living until I started dying."

I've never forgotten that, but expect that Andy would react to it with a hearty "Amen."

He has written again, this time on the subject of issues that he is facing with his family - and within himself. We have a somewhat corny quote that we frequently use in our family: "Bourlands play hurt."
Well, he surely does.

Here's a link to his latest blog on the subject. I suggest you read the comments as well. Especially the one from a fellow named Ken. Don't know him, but treasure his wisdom.

Winter Photographs that Stir the Imagination...

A lot of the stuff I read on the internet is about photography - because there is a lot of good material and because I love the subject. But every once in awhile something comes along that transcends the subject and stirs the soul.

Read this one for example. Bet you will love it!

So Much...

Saturday evening we were early to church, as always, waiting for church to begin when a badly crippled gentleman walked past us. He was using a highly unusual cane that looked much loved and well-used. We greeted him though we had never seen him before.

I asked him how he was doing. He responded: "Very well, thank you!" Then there was a pause. "I had a stroke Monday," he said, "but it is going nicely. There is so much to be thankful for." His eyes twinkled as he stretched his hand forward and shook my hand with a firm grip.  Then he walked on. We were touched in unusual ways.

Shortly thereafter, during the service, we were surprised to see him mount the lectern and read the scriptures of the day. He read with a strong, intelligent voice. And, believe me, we listened with unusual intensity. Something was happening here.

I don't know who he was, apart from his name on the bulletin. But it was one of those moments that seem plucked from the pages of Charles Dickens.

"God bless us every one."

Why Thanksgiving is My Favorite Holiday...

No, it isn't because I was born on Thanksgiving - though I was.

I love that Thanksgiving has no ponderous religious, commercial and patriotic baggage. It is what it is. Expressing thanks.

There is much more.

There are those wonderful Thanksgiving memories. My mother always made a highly festive and usually original celebration of it. That was her nature. She tried something new every year. There wasn't much sentimentality in our family - but on Thanksgiving days we slipped into precisely that. It was good.

As newlyweds, and before the kids came along, we managed to have the most delightful celebrations together. We learned how to cook and serve and enjoy. Sometimes we would return to feast with our parents, but usually we were on our own and nothing has ever topped just being with Jo Ann.

With the coming of our five children, with their growing up and adding spouses and grandchildren to the mix, we entered into the most memorable Thanksgivings of all. We set our own traditions and eventually our celebrations totaled well over 20 people (plus select animals) of all sizes, shapes and ages. No way we could do that anymore but, my goodness, it was fun while it lasted.

Well our parents are long gone. The kids are doing their own thing and are having their own growing family celebrations. They invite us to come join them, but we don't. The travel is just too hard on us. Besides, we have a secret. We are now back to the most basic celebration of them all. Just the two of us with our loyal dogs. We simplify, modify and try to remember the basic meanings of Thanksgiving. We cook the same things and rejoice with every familiar bite. We are increasingly thankful for all we have been given. Especially each other.

And, of course those sacred memories of Thanksgivings past. And the people who made them what they were. The memories are rooted in good realities. They keep us thankful. Yes, they do!

Annual Physical...

This morning I took my annual physical examination. We are very fortunate to have superb medical care and a team of physicians who are outstanding. After all the checking and listening and asking and poking he said I looked to be in excellent health. Unless the tests show up something unexpected I am good to go for another year.

I accepted these good words with customary modesty and good will. Considering that a week from tomorrow I will turn 80, I also received them with no small amount of wonder.

Jo Ann has finally recovered from her airline adventures. Dickens ate what the local coyotes had left of a rabbit just across the street and is, to coin a phrase, "as sick as a dog". Oliver is in ripping good health.

And that's all I have to say about the Bourland health status. Don't you just hate it when seniors get started on their health? And we generally do.

Faux Predators...

When we first moved into this area, some 22 years ago, we were driving down a neighbor street and spotted  a huge owl sitting on a roof. We pulled over and watched for awhile. We noticed that it wasn't moving at all. Returning home later we noticed the same owl, same position, still very impressive.

A week or so later we drove by again. This time the same owl, same position, but with a pigeon perched on its head. No further comment was made.

Recently we drove past a neighborhood golf course - a water hole. Nearby sat a coyote. Looking a bit closer we noticed six Canada Geese resting right next to the coyote.

Humans try almost everything to outwit pesky creatures - to scare them away. The odd thing is that the creatures figure things out quicker than uninitiated neighbors.