Why I Don’t Complain (My advice to the Occupy Protestors)

Really this picture speaks for itself, but I thought I'd add my 2 cents.

My mom loves documentaries. Her view is that documentaries are sometimes better than movies because they show what “it” really is; the big “it” meaning life. Of course since it is her television and I just so happen to live in her house, I have to watch everything she does. Fortunately, for us, the apple (being me) doesn’t fall far from the tree, so even though I can’t watch the game (Go Celtics!!), we still agree more on what to watch than we do disagree on what to watch. So one night my mother and I were watching a documentary on African families and how in nearly all the regions of the country civil war, poverty, racism, disease, and politics have basically flipped the country on its head and ripped it in two, and guess who is right in the middle of it all…the families. After watching the documentary, I felt so ashamed and humble. I felt ashamed because I realized that I have everything I need and want; I have rights as a human being, I have food, shelter, an education, a bed, shoes, clothes, a family that loves me, I can see, hear, speak, walk… Honestly I could go on and on all day, but after realizing that I have more than most, I felt so humbled at the same time, because I also realized that I am blessed and I have no reason to complain. So, even though the economy isn’t what I want it to be, I can still say that no matter how hard my life may be, there is always someone who has it harder.

As I sit in my room, figuring out what I was going to do for the rest of the night, I hear the intro music to the evening news. The BIG story: Occupy Wall Street protestors and their battles with the police. I stopped what I was doing and I went back into the family room to see what the reporter was talking about. My mom, a firm believer that the Main stream media isn’t worth a good 5 minutes of your time, turned the TV off and said, “You know what, I am getting so sick and tired of all the occupying mess. They need to go home! They are not accomplishing anything at this point.”   I have to agree. Look at what we have. We have the best of a lot of things. America is fortunate. True, the government needs change, but I have never seen a construction team build a house from the top down, instead they start by building a new foundation. The American people are a foundation. We need to build a new foundation before we can finish the roof. So, why are we protesting big government, when we can’t even govern ourselves correctly? Grant it, I am no saint, but I believe in the human capacity to change. We all have the capacity to change, but not everyone has the ability to choose to…

But to be politically correct, (making sure I don’t hurt anyone’s feelings) here is my advice to the protestors, be unpredictable! Instead of Occupying Wall Street, everyday all day, occupy a piece of paper and a pen, occupy a library, and most importantly, occupy a logical mindset. Keep the “1%” on their toes. Be unexpected, because the police expect you, as protestors, to act wild and they also expect to mace you in the face too. So instead of expressing only one aspect of our first amendment rights (protesting), we should use all of our avenues to avoid both frustration by the police and protestors and avoid the notion that the “elite” have more “common sense” than the American people do.  But, remember that a pen will always be mightier than a sword. Fight the quiet fight, find the loop holes, and like Gandhi once said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  Be the best you, you can be and I can guarantee that real change will come.

Now I am not no Bible-totein’, finger-wagin’, super -holy Christian, but I believe that this verse is the answer to all of our problems.

2 Chronicles 7:14 (KJV) “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.”

...But hey, you don't have to listen to me. I'm just one person trying to get you thinking one penny at a time. 

I have a funny story about Hospitality

My grandparents live a short distance away from my mom, me, and my very intelligent dog, a miniature Dachshund named Otto. Monday my mom, Otto and I decided to pay a visit to my grandparents’ house. Otto loves my grandparents’ house because they live in the county and my mother and I live in the city, so at my grandparents’ house he has a ton of room to run after his tennis balls and chase squirrels up trees. He also loves my grandpa, who pampers him by making sure Otto has all his stuff out of storage and in the garage by the time he gets there.  

Usually, when we say that we are bringing Otto, my grandpa, who is like Otto’s hero, will put out his bowls with food and water, his bed, his tennis balls, his radio tuned to his favorite “light” music station, and his litter box (yes, he is litter box trained, it comes in handy), but this time my grandpa was not expecting us to stay long so he didn’t put Otto’s stuff out.   When we got to my grandparents house, Otto barged in and started looking for his stuff.  When Otto realized that his “belongings” where not in their usual places, he looked back at my grandfather with big brown eyes overflowing with deep disappointment and sorrow, as to say, “Why…why do you do this to me?”

My Dog, Sir Otto Jeremiah

It wasn’t long before my mother, Otto, and I were getting ready to leave. As we were walking toward the door, Otto did something I had never seen him do before. He went to the door and sat down looking toward the door as if he desperately wanted to leave.  As soon as the door was opened, he dashed toward the car. This was very unusual because usually Otto won’t even respond to me calling him when we are getting ready to leave my grandparents’ house, where he usually feels do welcomed. His insistence to leave shocked us all, especially my grandpa, so I turned and looked at my grandpa and said,

“I think he is mad at you.”

My grandpa laughed and said, “He doesn’t know what mad is. Besides what would I look like being hospitable to a dog?”

 I argued and said, “Because he is your grand-dog and you love him, and you always put out his stuff when we come.”

So on Sunday my mom, Otto, and I came back over for our usual family get together after church; this time my grandpa immediately put Otto’s comfort stuff out.  When Otto came in through the garage door, he immediately saw all of his wonderful things and was very appreciative.  By the time we were about to leave, Otto was back to be predictable self and I had to chase him around the house to get his leash on him. Not only that but I practically had to drag him out of the house. I guess you could say that Otto knew when he felt welcomed and when he did not. On Monday Otto felt like he was being treated like a “dog” (of course, he doesn’t think he is), but by the time Sunday came I think my grandpa understood that it’s the simple things that make someone, even a dog feel welcomed.

Being hospitable is more than a virtuous deed to be checked off  a to do list; it is a mind-set and a way of life.  In today's world, hospitality is almost a lost art, and even though this story is about my dog and my grandfather, it should mostly serve as a reminder to just be nice and hospitable. Just think of how a person feels when they are not welcomed in your home. Treat your guests as you would want to be treated and I guarantee it will be worth it.

...But hey, you don't have to listen to me. I'm just one person trying to get you thinking on penny at a time.

Thanks Man!

WARNING: Explicit language

Thanks Felonious Munk for telling it like it T...I...IS!!

Knock, Knock...Who's there?...Reality

If you were to ask me what was wrong with America today, I would have to say our mindsets. We as a nation have fallen backwards instead of forwards. We’ve forgotten what it truly means to be a free American. I don’t care if the government is corrupt, so what; we are the people. We are not Capitol Hill, we are not the White House, and we are certainly not Congress. We are the citizens; that single mother working two and three jobs to put food on the table, that struggling business that is still trying to get up on its feet, and the immigrant who is ridiculed because he supposedly has taken an American job away from another American. Look it’s time for a wakeup call. We need to stop blaming the government and stop being lazy. We don’t have jobs, no matter how small, because we thought we were better than that because America is spoiled. We have everything at our finger tips, from remotes, to laptops, to pens, pencils and paper, to opportunity and we throw it away because we don’t know any better. We don’t know any better because we accept everything the T.V. tells us.  What ever happened to self-discovery? Did it go out the window with imagination, ambition, and good, healthy curiosity? To be honest, I don’t know. I still and forever will have mine because my mother knew how to fight the system; and I know she is not the only American who knows how to do that but, they are still the minority. The majority is still on the systems lap asking for what they want for Christmas. America needs to wake up and realize that Life really does not have to be as hard as it is now, but it can be much better if we go back to looking toward heaven for our help instead of looking in ourselves. Wakeup America, cause time is running out.

But hey you don’t have to listen to me; I’m only one person trying to get you thinking one penny at a time…