Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

St. Thérèse of Lisieux
October 1, 2018

 

O my God! I offer Thee all my actions of this day for the intentions and for the glory of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I desire to sanctify every beat of my heart, my every thought, my simplest works, by uniting them to Its infinite merits; and I wish to make reparation for my sins by casting them into the furnace of Its Merciful Love.

O my God! I ask of Thee for myself and for those whom I hold dear, the grace to fulfill perfectly Thy Holy Will, to accept for love of Thee the joys and sorrows of this passing life, so that we may one day be united together in heaven for all Eternity.

Amen.

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-St. Thérèse

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Grandma Billie Stories
September 30, 2018

Every year since Grandma Billie died, I’ve tried to include a story about her in one of my blog posts, ideally around the anniversary of her death. She’s been gone for three years as of last July, and it’s now nearly October, but I guess it’s better late than never to post a couple of stories. Unfortunately, I apparently don’t really possess the same narrative skill that my great-grandmother had; whenever I tell a story that she’s told me, mine always end much more quickly (and I’m pretty sure that it’s not just because I talk faster, haha). Be that as it may, here are a couple of Grandma Billie stories; the first one is sad, and the second is more heartwarming, so I figure that they’ll sort of balance each other out.
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I’m given to understand that this first story takes place in 1948, around the time after the infamous flooding of the city of Vanport (fifty years ago, as of last May). For some context, Vanport (a portmanteau of “Vancouver” and “Portland”)—also known as Kaiserville, after the Kaiser Shipyards—was built north of Portland in the early 1940s for wartime housing, and was the largest public housing project in the country at the time. It was home to a substantial Black population (who represented about forty percent of all its inhabitants, around the city’s peak), and was known for housing WWII veterans and transient labourers. At the time the Columbia River broke through a section of the dikes holding it back from the city, Vanport was home to over eighteen thousand residents (two of whom later moved to our street and became my Grandma’s neighbours, but that’s another story), who only had about half an hour to escape the incoming water. Fifteen people died, and the survivors were left homeless. Among the people who escaped Vanport, over a thousand Black families were only able to obtain housing in North Portland, where Grandma Billie grew up.
Grandma Billie was around thirteen at the time, and one day she walked home with a group of Black children; they were apparently nice kids, but unfortunately she got in trouble with her mom afterwards. From the way the story was told to me, it was clear that this wasn’t because the kids were strangers or known troublemakers or anything, it was purely a “Black and White people don’t hang out” segregationist thing.

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Slight tangent that’s unrelated to racism: Grandma Billie’s mother, Madge Agnes, used to call her children when they were playing outside by trilling; this was way before cell phones of any kind, obviously, and Portland was apparently a much quieter place then, because she could still be heard from blocks away. I mention this, because I don’t really know whether or not she started doing it herself, or if she learned it from her mother—I haven’t met another family that does it—and Grandma Billie also trilled to call her children, a practice that Grandma continued, and even Mommy trilled for Levi and I when we she wanted us to come in from playing outside (or just get our attention, or even find someone in a crowded place). It’s one of those things that you grow up without really thinking is that remarkable, and then realize how weird it actually kind of is when you realize that no one else does it. It’s sort of a loud, “Braaaah!” trilling sound; it’s become almost a minor rite of passage when a girl in the family learns how to trill. I haven’t tried in a while, but the last time I did I think I still hadn’t quite figured out to do it.
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The second story takes place earlier than the first one, during World War II. Again, just for some historical context: During our involvement in the war, every American received a series of ration books from the government; the books would have stamps in them for certain items—particularly food, such as canned goods, coffee, and butter—as well as (perhaps less famously) other commodities, such as gasoline, nylon, and even bicycles. Grandma Billie once showed me the ration book she had as a kid, and I think we still have it around somewhere, although I unfortunately haven’t seen it in some time.
Anyways, back to the story. The house Grandma Billie and her sisters grew up in (the same one that she later lived in by herself for many years) was across the street from a childless couple that became like family to her, whose names were Harry Richard Miessenger—who she called “Uncle Harry”—and Rose Miessenger—who she called “Aunt Rose” (later, after Harry died, she became “Grandma Rose” to Grandma Billie’s children). As a side note, I recently looked them up, and was able to find Mr. Miessenger’s registration information with the Selective Service—he was in the Fourth Registration, the “Old Man’s Draft” for World War II, which was meant to collect information regarding the country’s manpower and skills for military support.
During the war, Grandma Billie really wanted a pair of clogs, but sadly she had to get school shoes with her stamps. However, Mr. Miessenger didn’t need a new pair of shoes, and surprised her with a new pair of clogs that he had bought using his own stamps. The gesture must have made a big impression on her, and she remembered it throughout her life.
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Well, those are all of the stories for now; I have others, but I want to try to save them for other blog posts. I hope that everyone reading this had an enjoyable weekend, and that they have a good October.
Growing up, I was actually never a fan of October; I didn’t like going into public places, because they often had Halloween decorations up, and I always found them creepy. Did I mention that I still don’t like Halloween? I still don’t like Halloween. Anyways, I guess to put an encouraging spin on the month, Mommy came up with the idea of putting an emphasis on celebrating saints’ feast days that fell in October. Probably as a result of this, I know a lot more of October saints than other months; St. Thérèse (who’s one of my favourites) is tomorrow, St. Francis of Assisi (another one of my favourites) is on this coming Thursday, followed by St. Faustina Kowalska on Friday, Our Lady of the Rosary on the 7th, St. Teresa of Ávila on the 15th (Dr. Kibert’s birthday), St. Luke on the 18th, St. Isaac Jogues on the 19th, and St. John Paul the Great on the 22nd. Quite a month for saints!
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Today’s Question: What are some interesting stories that your grandparents (or other older relatives or friends) have told you?
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Today’s Joke: My friend’s bakery burned down last night. Now his business is toast.
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-Isaac““
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Prayer to St. Michael
September 29, 2018

 

Saint Michael the Archangel,

Defend us in battle,

Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil;

May God rebuke him, we humbly pray;

And do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host,

By the power of God, thrust into hell Satan and all evil spirits

Who wander through the world

For the ruin of souls. Amen.

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Happy Michaelmas, everyone!

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-Isaac““

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Two Years On…
September 18, 2018

Isaac’s Log—Stardate: 2018.261
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It’s now been over two years since I banged my head on a cupboard, and this whole post-concussive syndrome misadventure started for me. I feel like I’m simultaneously both more hopeful and more discouraged about my situation this year; now that we’re back in the area, I’ve been able to see Dr. Thom more regularly, which has helped some—and, overall, I definitely am doing much better (at least pain-wise) than last year. I’m at the point where I don’t have to be in bed more than half the day, and I’ve been able to do a lot more things; helping out around the house, going on walks with Tami, and so on. I suppose my main difficulty is that I usually have a hard time gauging how I’m feeling; if I do too many even kind of strenuous things in one day, then I’ll hurt my head and have to have a few “down days” afterwards. Admittedly, my best days are when I do very little of anything; no lifting, no studying, no reading, no piano playing, and no working on projects with my brother—basically just lying down most of the day and watching movies or TV shows. For the first few months after my head injury, all of my days were like that, except that I had to lie down pretty much the entire day, and I couldn’t really get anything for myself (at least now, even on really rough days, I’m able to just get up if I need to drink water or use the bathroom). For me, the main problem with doing pretty much nothing is, of course, how mind-numbingly dull it is (if I knew for certain that a few months of doing nothing would help me recover all of the way, I’d probably be less difficult about it, but I’m still a little worried about my symptoms being permanent; in which case, if pain’s just going to be part of my life now anyway, I’d rather be spending my time trying to do things, and not feel like I’m just losing more of my limited time on Earth). It’s particularly frustrating because I’m at an age now where I would ordinarily be able to finally do lots of fun things on my own; before I hit my head, I was volunteering, learning to drive, and even working a (part-part-time) job every month; and I really miss being able to do things like that—in a lot of ways, I feel like my life has been put on hold, and just at a time when I was getting concrete ideas of what I really wanted to do with it (on the bright side, at least I’ve been able to learn that I’m not a person that can feel content just sitting around all day, and I won’t have to find that out about myself after I retire). Although I’ve been told that I don’t really need to, I feel like I want there to be some kind of positive takeaway from this whole experience, even if it’s something relatively small, something that would almost make it feel like the past couple of years have been worth it somehow, but right now it’s kind of hard to think of anything; I honestly can’t see how suffering has made me better as a person, or made me feel substantially and consistently closer to God or something like that, but maybe something positive will result from the whole thing that will be more apparent in time. While I think it’d be accurate to say that I’m still mostly happy most of the time (I guess because that’s just the way I am, even if this blog post doesn’t make me sound like it), overall I’m definitely not totally content with my current circumstances; the ironic and mildly frustrating thing is that, in years to come, I’ll probably almost romanticize this time period in my head. Future me will probably think things like, “Oh, remember that time, back when I had no responsibilities, and I could just lie around all day?”
While, right now, my thoughts are more on the lines of, “Ugh, all I can do most of the time is just lie around all day!”
To be fair, all things considered, things could be a lot worse, and my situation really isn’t all that bad. I’m basically living at Grandma and Papa’s house now, so I get to see the majority of the people that I care the most about every day, and most of the people that I interact with have been very supportive (Tami and Grandma in particular have been a great help, especially when Mommy and Daddy are at school; Grandma usually makes smoothies for my brother and I every morning, and Tami often makes us lunch; while I’m really grateful, and try to help out where I can, I have admitted to Tami before that it does make me feel a little awkward at times, mainly because I feel like I’m old enough that I should be able to make my own meals—but she said it was okay, because she felt similarly when she wasn’t able to make meals for herself a couple of years ago, and she didn’t mind making food for us—I just don’t want to be a grown man that’s incapable of handling himself when it comes to simple stuff like eating and cleaning, or just really entitled and expecting everyone else to do things for him all the time).
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Now that we’re back in the area, I’ve been able to take piano lessons again with Kristin (we recently picked out which songs I’ll be playing for the winter recital; I didn’t get to go to the spring one this year, since I was living at the coast at the time), attend our old parish in town (which recently was assigned a new priest, Fr. Greg, who seems nice and is a really good homilist) with Mommy and Levi, and usually visit the library at least once a week. With this year’s very-smoky Oregonian summer almost over (the smoke has literally cleared, haha), the weather has finally started to consistently cool off, and my brother and I have been able to get outside more and get some fresh air. It looks like Levi’s spinal chord has re-tethered, so I guess he’ll probably have to have the surgery again, and he frequently feels down. I often try be helpful and cheer him up, but I’m not usually very successful (well, at least at cheering him up); I’m apparently not really the best caregiver, and don’t keep as cool a head as I’d like to when faced with stressful situations, but I hope that I’m improving.
A lot has happened since I last blogged; the Tevebaughs went to Texas and Oklahoma for about a week, Uncle Andrew and Deedra came out to visit us from Florida last month, Papa Jeff and Ramona moved to the coast, Mommy and Daddy bought a new car (to replace our old Subaru Outback, which had its timing belt break), and I even had a haircut for the first time in over a year (Duhn duhn duhn! But seriously, it was just a trim; it’s still pretty long). And that’s just in my life and the lives of some of the people I know; that’s not even mentioning the wildfires we’ve had (the worst of which was probably the Carr Fire down near Redding, where I used to live not far from just less than four years ago), hurricane Florence hitting the east coast, or the substantially worse typhoon Ompong/Mangkhut that’s devastated the Philippines and southeastern China (and will be hitting part of Vietnam soon). In other news, the church had probably its biggest abuse scandal in the United States in sixteen years (which I’m sure everyone reading this already knows about; the only kind of optimistic thing I can say about it is that most of the cases reported were from before 2002, which might mean that the reforms put in place then have been at least partially effective—although I suppose it might be a little too premature to conclude that, since we’re just now finding out about stuff that happened decades ago; either way, I really hope that all those responsible—whether they were directly perpetrators of the sacrilegious abuse, or complicit in it—are brought to justice), and we lost one of the more head-on-his-shoulders Republicans when Senator John McCain died (while I of course didn’t agree with him on everything, I really respect him for his integrity in his beliefs, his sacrifices at the “Hanoi Hilton”, and his call for American unity; I know that the GOP won’t be the same without their maverick, and it’s really weird to think that the same party who nominated a POW veteran just a decade ago helped a draft-dodger who has very little real respect for those who have served get elected to the presidency).
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On a completely different subject: Lately, maybe a little in contrast to my more ordinary autistic habit of happily watching the same movies and shows over and over again, my brother and I have been watching a lot of new-to-us things. We’ve watched a lot of Phineas and Ferb with Katie (one of her favourite shows), sometimes with Sandy, and—for the past month or so—Tami has introduced a lot of Studio Ghibli films to us. Up until this point, my only exposure to their films was when I saw the American English dub of The Secret World of Arrietty back in 2015 (the summer of which I read all of Mary Norton’s Borrowers books), disregarding a few glimpses I’d seen of Spirited Away as a kid. We watched Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke first, both of which Tami owned, and since then I’ve been checking out lots of different Studio Ghibli movies from the library—first Kiki’s Delivery Service, Whisper of the Heart, Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, and My Neighbor Totoro, then Castle in the Sky, and then When Marnie Was There and The Secret World of Arrietty (so that I could see it again, especially since I haven’t seen the non-dubbed version yet). My favourite so far (other than Arrietty, at least) is Kiki’s Delivery Service; with Castle in the Sky probably in second place; although the only ones I wasn’t very impressed with are Princess Mononoke (which my brother actually really liked, and inspired a really interesting blog post that he wrote), Nausicaä, and Totoro. In the future, I may post brief reviews for at least some of the movies. One that I haven’t seen yet is Howl’s Moving Castle, which we’ll watch once Tami finishes reading the book to us, and I’m really curious to see Miyazaki’s interpretation of it.

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We also recently watched all nine episodes of Netflix’s new series, The Dragon Prince (well, technically Mommy still hasn’t seen the last three episodes, so I’m hoping to rewatch those with her), created by Aaron Ehasz (who previously worked as head writer for Avatar: The Last Airbender) and Justin Richmond. I’m generally not a huge fan of the more serial (as opposed to episodic) storytelling structure that the show uses—which, to be fair, is a pretty popular narrative choice right now, and not just in TV shows—but I am still really glad that they didn’t end it (kind-of-not-really spoiler?) on a total cliffhanger, and the world-building the series explores seems really interesting, so I hope that they get renewed for another season. It was also pretty fun to have Jack DeSena—who voiced Sokka on Avatar—playing one of the main characters.
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Besides movie reviews, I also have a few other ideas floating around in my head for blog posts, which will probably be more interesting than just updates on what’s been happening in my life. I’m particularly hoping to get to delve into my theology obsession a bit (one post in particular that I have in mind is about weirdly specific heresies), which should be fun, provided I have the energy. Until then, I hope that everyone reading this is doing well, and remember that we’re now less than a hundred days away from Christmas!
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Today’s Question: Have you ever made (or opened) a time capsule? I kind of set a digital one for myself over five years ago on my computer’s calendar, which went off on August 7th. Unfortunately, I hadn’t written anything super riveting for it; all I did was include the time and date that I made the event. So, at Levi’s encouragement, I made another one a couple of months ago; it will go off in 2025 (specifically, on the day that I turn 10,000 days old), and I put a little more effort into it, which will hopefully be more meaningful to 27-year-old me than my message from 15-year-old me was.
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Today’s Joke: Two jokes today, actually, to make up for having not blogged in so long.
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#1: Geology rocks, but geography’s where it’s at.
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#2: I tried to attend a seminar for kleptomaniacs… All of the seats were already taken.

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-Isaac““
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The Assumption of Mary
August 15, 2018

Assumption of Mary (Bartolome Esteban Murillo, 1670)

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Father in Heaven,

All creation rightly gives you praise,

For all life and all holiness come from you.

In the plan of your wisdom

She who bore the Christ in her womb

Was raised body and soul in glory to be with Him in heaven.

May we follow her example in reflecting your holiness,

And join in her hymn of endless love and praise.

We ask this through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

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Food Boxes, the Fourth of July, and a Trip to the Movies
July 10, 2018

Isaac’s Log—Stardate: 2018.191.
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Happy belated Fourth of July!
Here’s everything that’s been going on in my life since I last blogged.
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Recently, Mommy took Levi to see Dr. Thom. We were supposed to have been approved for OHP (Oregon’s medicaid program) by then, but apparently something didn’t process through right or something, and it seemed like they weren’t going to be able to see the doctor. Fortunately, while the receptionist was on the phone with the OHP people, someone ushered Mommy and Levi in, so Levi was able to get care anyway. It sounded like Dr. Thom was very helpful, and was able to get into contact with a specialist, Dr. Shih (whom Levi had seen before), to try to get Levi an appointment—which is now officially scheduled for a couple of weeks from now.
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Last week, Mommy and Daddy had a weeklong break from school; so Mommy chose to stay at Grandma’s house with Levi and I, so she could be there with us on the Fourth, while Daddy decided to go back to the house at the coast to study. On the 1st, Mommy attended a play based on Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility with Grandma and Stephie, the tickets for which Clay had bought for all three of them for Mother’s Day. They sounded like they really enjoyed it, and that the actors did a good job in their roles.
That following Tuesday (St. Thomas’ day, a week ago today), Mommy took me to our old parish in town, so that we could help volunteer with the food boxes that the St. Vincent de Paul Society hosts there. It had been well over a year since I had been—I think I’d only been able to go once or twice since my head injury—and it was really great to get to help out and see everyone again. I had a lot of fun—although I unfortunately overworked myself by accident, and ended up very shaky without realizing it (fortunately, I didn’t have too many down days afterwards)—and I’m hoping that I’ll be able to go again next week.
The next day, Wednesday, was the Fourth of the July. Mommy went with the Tevebaughs in the morning to see the parade in town, and it sounded like they all had a good time—although a lot of people came into town to celebrate, so it was crowded and loud (I was on the fence about going, but I’m glad that I wasn’t really able, since I generally avoid noise and big crowds when possible). In the evening, Sandy and Papa surprised us by cooking a Fourth of July barbecue, and we set off fireworks Sandy had bought (which she also shared with some neighbour kids who came over). I had been hoping to go see the big fireworks in town, which we had been able to for the past three years, but unfortunately Levi wasn’t feeling well enough; so, instead, we watched fireworks on the big TV in the living room. All in all, it was a fun day for me, and Levi felt a little better the next day.
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Our country’s now 242 years old; I’m looking forward to 2026, when it’ll turn 250. Plus, at that point, we’ll have to have a different president than Donald Trump—even assuming he wins reelection in 2020 (unless the 22nd Amendment gets repealed sometime between then and now for some reason, which would be really terrible, but I really doubt that that will happen). Having him as our nation’s leader is one thing that seemed to dampen people’s enthusiasm for the celebrations a little, more so than last year, which to me is totally understandable; but the Fourth isn’t about Donald Trump, it’s about Americans as a people. Personally, I think it’s probably better not to totally leave patriotism to the far-right, or to let the president define what kind of country we are (despite the legislative and cultural power he has); I think we should instead foster an inclusive alternative, a patriotism that unites rather than divides—and celebrates not just who we are, but who we hope to be. Maybe if we can get people really hopeful for our nation’s future again by 2020, we’ll have forged a sort of nationwide cooperative optimism that will help us elect an administration that’s both more unifying and more competent than our current one (or at least doesn’t run the country like a game show); I certainly at least hope we don’t elect a president that would somehow make me miss Trump, that would really suck.
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Slight tangent: I know it sounds kind of silly, but I’m actually kind of excited about the 2020s, largely because it’ll be a decade with a really easily agreed upon abbreviation—we’ll be referring to the Twenties, and we won’t mean the 1920s anymore (which will admittedly be a little weird). Throughout most of my life, there hasn’t really been a universally-accepted abbreviated term for the current decade (excluding the 1990s, of course; although back then I couldn’t ever really speak anyway, so it’s not like I ever had the opportunity to say “The Nineties” during the decade). I’ve seen some people refer to 2000-2009 as “The Aughts”, although I’ve never actually heard anyone call them that in real life (I’m guessing it’s a regional thing or something), and I think most people simply call the first decade of the new millennium “The Two Thousands”; which, while it gets the general idea across now, might be confusing for people in future decades (after all, it’s a term that could technically refer to the entire 21st century). I’m not sure what people will call the current decade in the future; quite possibly just the “Twenty Tens”, even though that feels kind of awkward to me. Personally, I’ve tried to refer to the 2013-2019 period we’re in as the “Twentyteens”, which seems a little more catchy to me, but it doesn’t really seem to have caught on that much. I think it’d be kind of funny if 1920s fashion had a revival in the 2020s—bowler and cloche hats, that sort of thing; you never know, it could happen. And who knows what sort of technological developments will take place, and the kinds of problems we’ll be able to solve with them? It’s a brand new decade, a lot of things could happen.
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Alright, sorry about that digression from our regularly scheduled programming. Back to “What I did last week”.
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Last Friday, on St. Maria Goretti’s day, Mommy drove me to my piano lesson at Kristin’s studio. I hadn’t been able to have a lesson since February, so I was both really excited and a little concerned about being rusty; fortunately, the lesson went really well, and I had a lot of fun. It was really great getting to see Kristin again; and the homework she gave me includes a bunch of improvising with chords in different keys, which I’m hoping will be much easier for my head than having to read a lot of music—plus, it’s really fun!
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We unfortunately didn’t get to go to Mass the next day; we weren’t able to go on the Saturday before either, since Levi wasn’t feeling well, but Mommy said that she’ll take us tomorrow morning, which I’m glad about—even missing just one week feels like a long time to me without the Eucharist. On a positive note, Papa and Grandma were able to get a couple of new couches for free, and they’re the kind that double as recliners. The negative side is that they’re too uncomfortable for Levi to sleep on; but Grandma helped get him a mattress to use, which he says is even more comfortable than the old couch.
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Last Sunday afternoon, we were able to go to matinee showing of the new Incredibles movie (which, oddly enough, is actually called Incredibles 2, instead of The Incredibles 2) with Papa. We had been planning to go for a long time (it was our Father’s Day present for Papa), and I’m glad that we were all feeling well enough to go, and that Papa didn’t have to work that day (a woman at his work was forced to work thirty days in a row; I’m really hoping that my bill idea gets through next year, so it’s no longer legal for companies to do that to their employees in Oregon). We had a fun time at the movie; in my opinion, it was funnier than the first film, and the action scenes were very well done. My one real gripe with it is that my brother and I had to close my eyes a lot during the fight scenes with the Screenslaver; to be fair, there was a warning for people with epilepsy about the flashing lights, but I think even most of us without epilepsy would appreciate it more without the overdone hypnosis screens—and I think that Pixar could easily have accomplished the same effect without so many flashes. But, on the whole, I really liked the movie; it was fun getting to see new superheroes, and I enjoyed Michael Giacchino’s score (he even wrote theme songs for Mr. Incredible, Elastigirl, and Frozone). After the movie, we all went out to eat at one of our favourite Chinese restaurants, and I was so hungry that I ate almost everything on my plate.
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Yesterday, Tami, Grandma, Papa, Mommy, Levi, and I all watched the finale of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Tami introduced the series to my brother and I on I think June 23rd, and we watched all three seasons in less than three weeks. I thoroughly enjoyed the series; it has a great balance of humour and drama, is very well animated, a detailed but cohesive plot, and excellent character development. I’m really glad that Tami shared the show with us (she has all three seasons on DVD), and I’m excited about rewatching it. We’re actually planning on rewatching the whole first season, since Mommy didn’t start watching it with us until toward the beginning of the second one. Pretty much all of the characters are likable, but I think my favourite in the series is Katara; although I also really like Sokka, and Iroh is awesome.
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Tomorrow is the feast of St. Benedict; who has a special place in our family, since he was the patron of Ora et Labora Academy, which is what we used to call our school when she homeschooled us. When I graduated, I didn’t think that I’d actually miss school; but, six years on, I don’t think I fully appreciated the predictability and structure it gave to my life—especially earlier on, before my brother and I were basically unschooling. I’m really grateful that my mother worked so hard to teach us, that she’s always been there for my brother and I throughout all of our various issues, and that she was able to instill a love of learning in us that I still have to this day (I know that sounds super cheesy, but it’s true). I don’t know how well I would have fared in a more “traditional” school environment; guessing from the extremely short period I attended a public school, and my experience doing college work online a few months prior to my head injury, my guess is that I wouldn’t find learning new things as intrinsically rewarding as I do now. And I think having the one-on-one interaction really helped me; Mommy is pretty much always great at explaining things to an autistic mind, and I was always able to learn both in books and projects at home where I was comfortable, as well as from day-to-day life in my interactions outside of the house. Judging from the—often quite lacking—special needs resources available in rural public schools—especially during the 2000s (see, there I go again, haha), when I would’ve been in elementary school—I honestly kind of doubt that I’d even be verbal most of the time, had I had to attend classes in actual classrooms. Plus, I never had to deal with real peer pressure, and any bullying I’ve experienced was pretty negligible—on the whole, homeschooling is a pretty great deal, at least when it’s done well.
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Next week, the Tevebaughs will be leaving to visit family in Texas and Oklahoma, my friend Zack will turn twenty-three, and my cousin Wyatt will turn three. Now that we’re already partway through July, it’s almost been two whole years since I had my concussion; however, I’m feeling substantially more hopeful than last year (yesterday, I even stacked a whole wagon’s worth of wood all on my own), and I’m looking forward to celebrating Christmas in July with my family.
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Today’s Question: If you could bend any element from Avatar, which would you choose, and why? I think I’d be a Waterbender, since I’d want to have a chance at having healing power.
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Today’s Joke: Singing in the shower is all fun and games, until you get shampoo in your mouth; then it just becomes a soap opera.
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-Isaac““

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Grandma’s House, Harry Potter, and Pianos
June 27, 2018

Isaac’s Log—Stardate: 2018.178.

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It’s been a busy five weeks! Here’s the gist of everything that’s happened to my family lately.

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On May 23rd, Mommy and Daddy tested for the nursing school in Portland, and Mommy left to go to her healing touch therapy training in southern California. Mommy and Daddy were accepted into the school, Daddy was able to leave his job on good terms, and so now they’re both going to school together. So that they can get to classes on time, and so Levi and I aren’t by ourselves so much, we’ve all basically been staying at Grandma and Papa’s since May 27th—when Daddy, Levi, and I got tired of waiting until the next day to see Mommy again (who had just come back to the Portland area from California), and drove through the night to Grandma’s. Emma (my cat) did fine as usual, and Pat-me (Levi’s dog) likes car rides; we were worried about Dante (Levi’s cat), since he threw up and peed the last time he was in a car for a long time period, but he actually did really well. It actually turned out pretty well, because Mommy and Daddy’s first day of class was on the 29th, so we they had all of Memorial Day to recuperate. They still go back regularly to the house on the coast to study, and overall it sounds like they’re doing well in their classes.

It’s really great to get to see the rest of the family much more often now; the only real negative is that the cats are in Mommy and Daddy’s room in the upstairs room above the garage, while Levi and I are sleeping in the living room, and Levi often isn’t feeling well enough to go upstairs. I was really used to having Emma at bedtime, so that’s been a bit of an adjustment, but I still usually go upstairs and spend time with her when I can, typically at least once a day; on the whole, though, she and Dante seem to be doing pretty well, and Dante’s been much less neurotic without the dog around (she stays downstairs). Levi’s health generally hasn’t been the best (although that was true before we came), but we’re hoping that we’ll soon get approved for OHP and he can start seeing doctors again.

One big positive for me is that my head has improved a lot lately; I still have some days that are harder than others, but overall it feels like even my hard days are much more manageable than they were even just a couple of months ago. With my post-concussive syndrome getting better, I’ve been able to do more things; the other day, I helped Papa build four sort of A-frame things to help keep the seasoning wood in place, and I was even able to move a wheelbarrow full of wood without much effort at all (and it was the metal one with only one wheel, which was even hard for me to handle without spilling before my head injury).

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On June 8th (the day before Mommy and Daddy left to spend their 22nd anniversary at our house at the beach), Mommy finished reading the last bit of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to my brother and I; both Mommy and Levi had read it once before, but it was all new to me. So, I’ve finally heard the entire Harry Potter series; and, now that it’s over, I’m left feeling both happy and a little sad—I really enjoyed the books, and getting to know all of the characters throughout them, so it is unfortunate that there aren’t more than seven. I checked out Harry Potter and the Cursed Child from the library; we still haven’t read it all, so I might enjoy it more later on, but it’s definitely not the same. My favourite book in the series is Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (which I guess is a pretty common opinion; I also really enjoyed Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince), and my least favourite is probably Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (which, to be fair, I mainly dislike just because Dolores Umbridge has such a prominent role in it, and Harry’s actions can be frustrating; but it’s also a pretty fun book, with Harry Potter organizing an underground study group called Dumbledore’s Army, and it’s the one where Luna Lovegood is first introduced). In my opinion, J. K. Rowling is one of the best authors I know of when it comes to character development and dialogue, and the mysteries woven throughout her series are very well executed (when there’s a plot twist—of which there is usually at least one per book—you can usually think back to little details you’ve read up to that point that you didn’t realize were actually hints for it). I think sometimes her more large-scale worldbuilding can feel lacking (how wizards from different countries interact with each other, their specific histories, and so on) but she does an excellent job with places and details on a smaller scale (Hogwarts itself, Platform 9 ¾, etc.). The interactions between her characters usually feel very natural; I generally felt like she gave enough time for their relationships with each other to develop, while still keeping the overarching plot cohesive and focused, if that makes sense. I like a lot of her characters, but I think my favourites are Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger, and Rubeus Hagrid.

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One sad thing that happened this month was that Clay’s grandfather, Olen, passed away on the 13th; he was 83. Clay was really close to him, and went to visit him in Oklahoma shortly after he was put on hospice; and he also traveled there for his funeral last week (he made it home last Thursday). While he was traveling, I was able to see my cousins more often than usual, since Stephie would often bring them to Grandma’s house to play.

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We went and visited Papa Jeff and Ramona on the 15th; we hadn’t seen them since they visited us at the beach on May 21st, and they’re planning on moving out of the Portland area soon. We went out to one of our favourite Chinese restaurants with Papa Jeff (although it took us longer to get there than we would have liked, partially due to traffic), since Ramona was busy at the house; he ordered takeout for her, and afterwards we stopped by their house for a little while. They’ve lived in the same house for pretty much all of my life, so I know it’s going to be weird when they sell their house; they were talking about moving to the coast, so they can be closer to Ramona’s parents, but they’d still be a couple of hours away from where our house is.

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Tami with her favourite chick.

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Some of the hens that live on Grandma’s road have had chicks lately; they’re pretty cute, and Tami really likes them, but I don’t pick them up or anything (when I was little, I saw a girl get pooped on by a duckling she was carrying around in her hands). Unfortunately, some of them have shorter lives than others; the same day that we left to visit Papa Jeff and Ramona, one of them was killed by one of the little neighbour dogs (we buried it afterwards, and marked its grave). Its mom didn’t seem super concerned; I’m honestly not sure if she ever really noticed, maybe chickens just can’t count—or, at least, maybe they think more like “One chicken, some chickens, no chickens” than in actual numbers. I don’t really know, I’m not a chicken expert.

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RecentIy, I was looking at Craigslist, and noticed a lot of free pianos; I thought it was kind of sad that people were giving away their pianos, and my brother pointed out that it would be cool to pick them up and refurbish them. I thought this was a good idea, and reached out to a piano technician in my area (who I didn’t know at the time is actually the president of the Portland chapter of the Piano Technician’s Guild), asking about education options for gaining the skills I’d need to tune and refurbish pianos. She answered my questions, and invited me to join the guild for one of their meetings (which took place the day before yesterday) in a piano shop not very far from Grandma’s house, which had a hands-on technical afterwards. Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t have been home from school in time to get me there, but fortunately Grandma was able to drive me (I still don’t have my driver’s license, just a learner’s permit); and I was really glad to have her there, especially since I was so nervous about going to a new place and meeting new people. I knew next to nothing about piano technology, but everyone I met there was very nice and helpful; in the technical after the meeting, I learned about how to restore keys, both white and black (I was allowed to bring home a white key afterwards to show to the rest of my family). The only kind of hard part for me was using the aerosol can on the black keys, since the spray smelled so much. Afterwards, the guy who owns the building showed Grandma and me the rest of his shop, which was really cool. One of his pianos was from around the 1830s; and there was another one, from Germany, that had extra strings over its usual ones that would vibrate sympathetically to add to the sound. On the whole, the guild meeting was an enjoyable—although tiring—experience, and I think being a piano technician someday could be really fun.

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A lot has happened in the news since in the past weeks; Donald Trump met with Kim Jong-un in Singapore (even though for a while it looked like the summit was going to be cancelled), over two-thousand children have been detained away from their parents while crossing the border (a policy which, while the current administration has finally abandoned, has permanently damaged many families), and the Supreme Court upheld Trump’s travel ban. Between the good, the bad, and the ugly, I’m really hoping someone besides Trump is elected to the white house in 2020; but, with the way the Democrats are struggling to provide a cohesive alternative in their message (other than just opposition to the president), and with Trump’s approval rating (at least according to Gallup) as high as it was back around when he first entered office, I’m actually really concerned that that’s not going to happen. But, hey, we can hope.

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Yesterday, Uncle Andrew turned thirty-six, Aunt Linda turned sixty-six, and Aunt Maxine (Grandpa Hauck’s sister) turned ninety-seven. Uncle Andrew was unfortunately sick on his birthday, but I wished him a happy birthday via text.

This coming Friday, Sandy and Katie will leave to visit with Sandy’s dad in Washington for a few days; he recently went to see his mom, who lives in Cuba, and whom he hadn’t seen since he was six. Next week, we have the 4th of July to celebrate, which should be fun (although hopefully not too loud).

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Today’s Question: Which is your favourite Harry Potter book, and why?

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Today’s Joke: A lumberjack went into a magic forest to cut down a tree. But, just as he was starting to swing his axe at the first one he came to, it shouted, “Wait! Stop! I’m a talking tree!” The lumberjack grinned, then said, “And you will dialogue.”

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-Isaac““

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St. Anthony of Padua
June 13, 2018

 

 

St. Anthony, your love for the infant Jesus made Him present to you to see and hold in your arms. Help us to see and love Jesus in all the poor and suffering of the world. Move us to clothe, feed, and help Jesus in all unwanted, abused, and abandoned children and people. Lead us, for the sake of Jesus, Who became a child like one of us, to reverence and protect all human life from its beginning to its end. Amen.

-A Prayer to St. Anthony

 

 

 

 

 

Thoughts on Unity
May 20, 2018

Happy Pentecost, everyone!

Overall, it’s been a fun couple of weeks for me. The Dungeon and Dragons game that Levi put together for Tami, Katie, and I went really well (with surprisingly minimal technical difficulties); especially considering it was his first time running a game. Last Sunday (the day our diocese commemorates the Feast of the Ascension), we went to Grandma and Papa’s house to celebrate Mother’s Day with the family, as well as Katie’s 20th birthday. It was a really fun day; we had Mexican food for dinner, Levi and I played New Super Mario Bros. Wii with Tami and Katie, and Katie and I were also able to play a couple of games of chess together. Yesterday, we celebrated Pentecost at the Vigil Mass (our parish priest is back, and overall seems to have made a really impressive recovery from his accident), and tomorrow (which is also the fourth anniversary of Levi adopting Pat-me) Papa Jeff and Ramona are coming out to visit us—it’ll be really good to see them, and we’re planning on taking them to the beach, which should be fun. The next week is probably going to be pretty busy; Mommy and Daddy are planning on testing for a one-year nursing program this coming Wednesday, and Mommy has to leave the next day for almost a week to attend some training in southern California for her healing touch therapy stuff.

 

I’ve been thinking lately about national unity the past couple of days, and the way it came up in my mind was a little unusual. My head has been not the best lately, and I’ve had to lie down a little more than I typically do, and so I’ve been watching videos on my phone to keep myself occupied. I’d been feeling a little more nostalgic than usual, so for fun I looked up old episodes of Zoom online (another show on PBS Kids that my brother and I liked a lot), and I found a special episode of the series that was made shortly after 9/11 called Zoom: America’s Kids Remember, which focused specifically on helping kids cope with the attacks. What struck me in particular was the largely positive message that the kids in the show communicated, and what ways they emphasized for coping; things like volunteering, resolving conflicts, and just talking to and being there for others. The general idea was that, while the attacks themselves were a really terrible thing that shook the country, people all over were trying their best to respond to it in a positive way by going out of their way to help make the world a better place. As I watched their musical ending, with “Zoomers” singing a song that was adapted from a hymn (Henry Burton’s “Love is Kind”), I felt sad, but not in the way that you’d think the subject matter of the episode was intended to evoke. I was sad because I missed the time when we as a country would unite when faced with tragedy.
We’ve had a plenty of national tragedies in the past decade, most notably at the moment being the many school shootings this year (we just had another school shooting a few days ago, this time in Texas), but they’ve largely seemed to have the opposite effect as the aftermath of 9/11: Now tragedy just appears to further divide our already very divided nation, and it seems now that only a minority sees it as a reason to unite. Seeing what seemed to me to be an almost idealistic level of support and solidarity people in our country had for each other just less than two decades ago makes me feel both touched and, honestly, kind of ripped off. I was born in 1997; to put that in perspective, I came into adolescence shortly after the recession, and into adulthood shortly before the 2016 presidential election. I wasn’t quite four years old when the World Trade Center disappeared so violently from New York City’s skyline; after which many Americans rallied together, despite differences in colour or creed, to help each other through what was a very scary and difficult time. I’m twenty now, and throughout the majority of my life time—perhaps especially in my teenage years, and what very little of my adult life I’ve lived so far—it feels like I’ve actually rarely seen Americans react to tragedy in constructive and (most especially) united ways, and we seem more divided into various camps now than at any period in my life. Tragedies have gone from an opportunity to stick together, to more of an opportunity for leaders to capitalize on disaster for some political gain, or an excuse to blame or ostracize people who are different from ourselves. So, what happened? Why, in general, is society as a whole so different today than in 2001?
I don’t know. I honestly really don’t; but, being the obsessive ponderer that I am (hey, I have a lot of time of my hands), I do have a hypothesis or two. One really big difference that I’ve noticed between the world of 2001 and that of 2018 will probably be pretty obvious to most people: The ubiquity of the Internet, and, specifically, the role social media has had on society as a whole, which I’m not sure has actually been all that positive. Now, before I go further, don’t get wrong; I’m not a Luddite, I actually believe that technology can and absolutely has had a lot of positive impact in peoples lives—and, although I’ve never personally really had a desire myself to open an account on something like Facebook on Twitter, I don’t have any problem with people who are interested in connecting with others on social media. I just want to get that out of the way, so that people know when I kind of put part of the responsibility for the way things are (for better or worse) on the way social media has impacted people’s lives in the “real world”, I’m not trying to put the blame on any individuals in particular.
On most social media platforms, people follow things and people that interest them, and sometimes unfollow things and people that they become offended by or are simply no longer interested in; the general result being that many such sites could theoretically be mapped to show its users in various overlapping circles or groups (perhaps sort of like a Venn diagram). The positive consequence of this is that users can—at least ideally—quickly and easily find other people that they have something in common in with; and content such as art, videos, stories, or news articles about subjects that they are interested in (which has obvious commercial value to advertisers, as well as informational value to politicians and other organizational leaders). However, the negative side of this is that, since people in this situation kind of axiomatically get their information (and the kinds of information they subscribe to) from different sources, they can end up almost literally living in different worlds. I sort of think people could more easily relate to each other back when our options for information and entertainment were more limited; before the Internet, if you had a random conversation with a total stranger from your area, I’m under the impression that there was actually a surprisingly higher chance that you read or watched the same news, watched the same shows, and even listened to the same radio stations. Now that we can pick and choose what sources of media we consume, with the narrative that each source sells often being quite different from the other, we may inhabit the same objective universe, but we perceive it incredibly differently. Combine this with confirmation bias (which, while I’m guessing to an extent is a quirk of our brains—perhaps it’s just more efficient in our day-to-day lives somehow to look for information that substantiates your hypothesis—I think might be exacerbated by the way our educational system tends to emphasize the shame of being wrong), and you have a recipe for a very divisive society.
When the Internet first came out, I think people had the idea that it would bring people from all over the world together; and, to an incredible extent, this is true: The world has, effectively, shrunk—you can, theoretically, find someone you have something in common with almost anywhere in the world now, about almost anything—but it hasn’t formed a unified whole; rather, it’s more like it’s congregated into several vying coteries. To be absolutely fair, I don’t think this is entirely the fault of the Internet; I kind of think our more tribalistic tendencies might be (at least to a small extent) native to the human condition, but I’m inclined to believe that social media has exacerbated them considerably. With the decline or lack of more overarching affiliations—such as religion, or a unified national identity—people have increasingly divided themselves into more narrow and exclusive cliques—such as ethnicity, sexuality, profession, or even fandom. This makes me incredibly sad; my parents, and probably lots of other people who grew up largely in the 1980s, expected things like language or skin colour to not even matter much at all in the future, and didn’t expect their children to grow up in a world with such sharp class and ethnic divides, at least not in their own country. Was this naïve of them? Is it ingenuous of us to be disappointed by an increasingly divided world, and the social regression we’ve seem to have had? I don’t think so. We, humanity, can—and, I hope, eventually will—do better. Just believing that we’re capable of improvement is vital to changing the world for the better, because people who think that this is just the way it is, and that society can’t be improved, are probably unlikely to try to ameliorate things—why waste your energy on something that’s effectively impossible, right? I think we need that belief, that unifying hope and idealism, again in this nation. Now, I’m sure I’m idealizing things a little; we could argue that our country has always been divided one way or another, sometimes violently so (coughcough—1861—cough); but, in terms of the past fifty or so years, I can’t help but notice a considerable downtrend in national solidarity.
What is sad (and a little strange) is that there don’t seem to be very many politicians with a big emphasis on unity, outside of party or class lines. Granted, President Trump has tried appealing to Americans to unite, but the problem is that he’s incredibly inconsistent; one day he’ll be asking everyone to unite, the next day he’ll be saying that Mexicans are rapists, insinuating black people shouldn’t be trusted, et cetera. The idea of being unified just by virtue of living in the same country seems to have largely disappeared. Many people perceive patriotism as being largely abandoned by the left (which, to be fair, hasn’t been done entirely irrationally, considering you could argue nationalism as an ideology in one form or another has been largely responsible for both world wars) in favour of a more narrow approach, celebrating specific communities first and foremost; while the right (specifically the far right), frustrated by the hollow identity politics intoned by the left, has seen a rise in an increasingly jingoistic ethno-nationalism—in the mindset of some, you’re now only really “American” if you’re white, speak English, et cetera (not that that makes much sense, since relatively few people in this country are of indigenous descent; you know, people who lived here way before anyone who was white or spoke English, but I guess there’s nothing really logical about racism).
I myself have said that I thought that patriotism, as a quality, is pretty overrated. Now I’m kind of ambivalent about that sentiment. On the one hand, if patriotism means supporting your country—and, by extension, its policies—no matter what, then I’d still say that I think it’s kind of a weird position to have; and, in extreme forms, dangerous and kind of idolatrous, setting the nation and its leaders up in place of God. But, if patriotism isn’t about boasting in some kind of perceived national superiority, but simply in loving the people of your country, then I’m all for it; that’s a patriotism I can get behind, because it can not only inspire action in caring for your neighbours, but also motivate people to change things for the better. Love may be unconditional, but, I think if people really love their country, then that love shouldn’t be without scrutiny; if you really care for your fellow denizens, then you should strive to do your very best in making their conditions the most optimal they can realistically be—and that means working together to improve policies and legislation, having each other’s back; and being aware that, even though we may often disagree on the best way to achieve things, we all want—and believe in the possibility of—a better world. If we can just remember that, perhaps we can reverse this trend of divisive rhetoric, political gridlock, and our schismatic tendencies as a people. Maybe we would do well to reclaim the sober but hopeful patriotism that people felt in the aftermath of 9/11, an emphasis that, no matter what we’re going through, we’re all in it together, because we are all Americans—regardless of who we vote for, how we worship (or don’t), what language we speak, how much money we have (or lack), or what we look like. Because unity doesn’t have to be totally uniform; I believe that the vast majority of us, just by virtue of living in the United States, hold many of the same values regardless of culture, even if they’re sometimes for different reasons—kindness, individual liberty, democracy, rule of law, helping those in need, the desire for economic opportunity, and the hope for a better future. We might not be able to agree on very much today, but I think it’s still enough; and certainly sufficient enough to unite us all when we are faced with tragedy, big or small, and try to cooperate together to make our nation a better place.

 

 

 

 

Today’s Question: What are some of your thoughts on unity? What does patriotism mean to you? (I know that’s technically two questions).

 

 

 

 

Today’s Joke: A woman was sitting at her deceased husband’s funeral. A man leant in to her from across the pew and asked, “Do you mind if I say a word?”.
“No, go right ahead,” the woman replied.
The man stood up, cleared his throat, said “Plethora”, and sat back down.
“Thanks,” the woman said, “That means a lot.”

 

 

 

 

-Isaac““

 

 

 

 

 

Star Wars Day, Barbecues, Phone Tag, Emma, and a Volcano
May 4, 2018

 

Happy Star Wars day, everyone! Today, May 4th (as in, May the Fourth be with you), is the day that Star Wars fans all over (well, I imagine at least in places that use the month/day/year date format) celebrate George Lucas’ (and now Disney’s) franchise that is now over forty years old. Today Daddy bought The Last Jedi on Amazon in HD with bonus features, and the plan today is for us to watch it with popcorn; I’m pretty excited, especially since I don’t think I’ve watched it since the second time I saw it in the theater, on the day after Christmas. While we’re on Star Wars, here’s something that I’ve thought about for a while: Fans of Star Trek are called Trekkies (or Trekkers, depending on who you talk to), Firefly fans call themselves Browncoats, and so on; but most fans of Star Wars just call themselves Star Wars fans. I’m not sure why we haven’t really come up with a fun term to use; perhaps it’s because Star Wars is pretty ubiquitous in the culture at large, whereas other science fiction franchises—such as Star Trek, Dr. Who, and so on—are usually (at least comparatively) more niche things. Anyway, I think Star Wars fans should still have a fun term to describe themselves with; so, a couple of months ago, I thought of one that I think we could adopt: Star Warriors. In my opinion, it’s not too long, is way easier to say than more linguistically awkward formations (such as Warzian, which I honestly don’t think I have ever heard anyone actually say); and a more broad term than something like Jedi or Rebels, while still descriptive enough of the franchise. What do you think?

 

Today is also the one-year anniversary of Tami bringing home her cat, Rowan. He’s grown a lot in the last year, but he’s still really cute, and I’m glad that he has been around to be a cat friend for Tami.

 

This past month has been relatively calm for me. Papa and Grandma came out to stay at a motel in the town we live in for their anniversary on the 19th, and until the 21st, during which time we were able to visit with them a lot. We walked on the beach, watched movies Papa had brought (Thor: Ragnarok and Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, both of which were funny; we also watched a new episodes of The Big Bang Theory, which we used to do all the time together the last time we lived at their house, as well as a new episode of Young Sheldon), listened to some of Papa’s stories, and had a great time visiting and talking with each other. Papa put together a gas grill Daddy had ordered online, and showed us how to barbecue on it; we actually had two barbecues while they were visiting: One on the 20th, and a big one on the 21st that the Tevebaughs came out for as well. It felt really quiet when everyone left after the barbecue, and I feel sad that I don’t get to see the rest of the family as often as I’d like, but I’m glad that we still live close enough to them that day visits are still practical.

 

I was kind of playing “phone tag” for a little less than two weeks last month, which was pretty unnerving for me, since I’m not very good on the phone; I tend to have a hard time understanding what people are saying if I can’t see their lips move, I find it more difficult than usual to know when it’s my turn to speak, and so on. I had sent an email to my state senator about an idea I had for a labour reform bill, since I’d found out that Oregon’s labour laws are pretty sucky (it’s theoretically possible for most employers to schedule their workers to seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day; although that particular scenario is really really unlikely, I think it kind of illustrates how poor our current regulations are); and, to my pleasant surprise, she actually called my phone and left a message within an hour or so after I sent it (I wasn’t able to answer it at the time, because I was in the bathroom)—on a Sunday, no less. I had to call her office a few times during the following days to get a hold of her (the first time, someone else was on the line; another time, I called after she had left the office), but the last time, I was put on hold, then told it would be a while, so I left my number; and she called me back a little while later. I had notes on my computer about what to say (to make sure I hit all the main points of the bill, and so on), I had practiced with and gotten advice from other people, and I tried my best to match her tempo as I spoke (I usually talk pretty quickly, so some people have a hard time understanding me). It seems like the conversation went pretty well; she asked a few questions to clarify some things, explained some of the legislative process, and she seemed to understand everything I said. She also seemed to like my ideas for the bill (which won’t realistically end up in the state senate until next year), although she said that she thought it would have a lot of opposition—which honestly came as a surprise to me, but I guess I can be kind of naïve—but it’s not like what I’m proposing is super radical or anything, since it’s at least similar to current Californian law; all it would do is ensure workers are entitled to at least one day of rest in seven (forbidding employers from forcing their employees to work more than six days in a row), and limit the amount of overtime employees can be forced to work in a twenty-four hour period. I’ll probably have to testify in Salem a couple of times; hopefully, my head injury will have recovered enough by then that it won’t be that big of a deal (at least I hope so; I’m more worried about my head than I have been in a while, because I read that people diagnosed with Post-concussive Syndrome who still experience symptoms after three years usually have permanent damage—for me, it’s been almost two years, and my symptoms still affect my daily life, although some days are better than others). I’m hoping that, if I present the scientific evidence that demonstrates that people are actually more productive when they are well-rested, it will show that both workers and businesses will actually benefit from the bill, and not some kind of zero-sum game.

On a tangential note, I heard back from a helpful woman who works for the Oregon Elections Division; and I found out that, to form a local party in my county, I would only need to gather 158 valid signatures, which I was pretty excited to learn. I think, if I ever made a political party, I’d try really hard to build it from the ground-up; running people for county elections, then state elections, and only running candidates for the presidency after there was more widespread support. I think one mistake some third parties can make—especially in the Internet era, when you can find people who share your views, but may live on the other side of the country (or the world)—is seeking out supporters from around the country, at the expense of developing strong support in your local communities, with the result being that—although you may technically have thousands of members in your party—your actual voting power is actually quite small. Plenty of people say that the system itself is “rigged” against third parties to begin with; which I think is at least partially true, with things like the spoiler effect in play, but I still think another party might have a chance if it actually offered something different, but still viable, and was unique enough from both the Republicans and the Democrats.

 

Last week, as I’m sure most people reading this already know, Kim Jong-un became the first North Korean leader to cross the demilitarized zone, and met with President Moon Jae-in of South Korea. I was able to watch part of the broadcast of the event online (and, on an unimportant note, I thought that some of the English-speaking Korean newscasters sounded kind of like they had British accents, which I thought was interesting), and I’m happy that both leaders have emphasized their efforts on diplomacy.

 

 

 

 

Last Wednesday, my cat, Emma (as well as her brother, Timmy, who is the only cat who is still lives outside at Grandma and Papa’s house), turned fifteen—which is supposed to be about seventy-six in cat years. It seems so crazy that she’s been in my family for so long; I was only five years old when she came to live with us in Montana as a kitten, and I’m really glad that she’s still a part of my life. On Emma’s birthday, we also celebrate Levi’s cat, Dante; we don’t really know what day he was born on exactly, but we’re pretty sure it was sometime during May of 2006.

 

 

Yesterday, new vents of the Kīlauea volcano opened up near a residential area, following some earthquakes. Over a thousand people have had to be evacuated, and today there was a 6.9 magnitude earthquake on top of all of that. So, definitely keep Hawaii in your prayers.

 

In good news, our parish priest (the one who was in the accident) will be coming back, and much sooner than we’d even hoped for; it looks like we’ll get to see him tomorrow, at the Vigil Mass. This Sunday, Levi will be running his first game of Dungeons and Dragons; with Tami, Katie, and I getting to be the players (I’m pretty excited). This Mother’s Day, the plan is for us to go and visit to Grandma and Papa at their house; and, on the 15th (which is also Election Day, here in Oregon) Katie, who I’ve been friends with since we were literally infants, will turn twenty.

 

 

 

My head isn’t doing super well right now, so thank you for sticking with me through this blog post, and May the Fourth be with you!

 

 

 

 

Today’s Question: What’s your favourite Star Wars movie?

 

 

 

 

Today’s Joke: A guy walks into a bookstore, and asks, “Can I have a book by Shakespeare?”

The guy at the desk goes,”Of course, sir, which one?”

“William.”