Before I go any further, I want to make a few things very clear. First of all, I am not tied to any politician or political party, nor do I have any financial stake in the immediate outcome of the presidential election (though I would argue we all have one in the long term). These are my opinions, on my blog, and I share them freely in the spirit of love, friendship, and truth. I am not seeking an argument or debate. This is not intended to promote any particular party or candidate.
I am a largely undecided voter.
Now, I want to start by saying that I have had the unfortunate chore of eliminating and blocking several people from my Facebook list because of unnecessary comments made around the politics and candidates making headlines. I've had to stop hanging around some friends and even family members because they have become, honestly, quite obnoxious. I have tried to remain quiet about it, tolerate it, and ignore it. But the truth is that my patience is wearing thin and I just can't take much more. I thought about just staying away from Facebook altogether, and I do feel that Facebook is where the majority of the issues seem to start - everything from "like this picture if you think Romney is a fraud" to "share this picture if you believe Obama is trying to sell Americans to Iraq" - but Facebook is one of the tools that keeps my family informed, being that we are all spread out around the world.
I think it is critical for anyone who has the right to vote to do so as an informed citizen. In the digital age, information is available everywhere. And the Internet can be a very useful tool. But it is also a political mine field, if you don't know how to navigate fact from crap. So much of what I see sprayed all over Facebook is simply manufactured, based on trashing the opponent instead of building up their own campaign or party. And thus, the rumor mill is perpetuated and lies are spread like a cold virus. It is important to get information - real, good, solid information - from a reliable source. If you go looking for dirt on Obama on an ultra-conservative website, you will surely find it. And if you're asking liberals to bash Romney, I'm sure they will gladly oblige. Know your source, and make sure that what you're reading and absorbing is fact, not fiction.
Let's clear the air. Some of the worst comments made on Facebook involve the following:
Romney doesn't have multiple wives, and to my knowledge, he's not seeking to allow for that to be legal, either. I'm not really sure where this came from, but I did see it recently on Facebook. Ridiculous. I guess someone has seen a few too many episodes of Sister Wives.
President Obama is not a Muslim, just in case you were wondering. I know the rumors were flying like crazy about this, but it's just not true. The President himself said it wasn't true. I guess you could argue that he could be lying, but why? And what if he was Muslim? Why is that an issue? Our country is founded on the belief that everyone is welcome to worship who and how they choose. It most literally is the reason we even exist! Furthermore, to say that all Muslims want to kill America is absurd. Muslim extremists have made a name for themselves in this arena, but I cannot underscore the word extremists enough. Extremists from all religious and cultural backgrounds make problems around the world - hence the word extreme. Remember The Crusades? Yeah, us "Christians" aren't immune from the violence, either. But I digress.
Romney never said anything about dodging service in Vietnam because he had a "greater purpose" in life. Hoax. Subscribe to snopes.com or factcheck.org. He never said anything of the kind. He was in college at the time of Vietnam and had deferments. His last deferment would have expired in 1970, but was given a very high draft number and was therefore never called upon to serve.
The democrats are not trying to take all of your guns away. That's ridiculous. We have a constitutional right to keep and bear arms. Keep that thing holstered. Nothing to get excited about just yet. And if it ever does look like "gun control" gets out of control, come on down to Texas where we still reserve the right to succeed and once again become the Republic of Texas. I promise no one is taking guns outta this place.
And Romney didn't get away with not paying any taxes. Ever. Seriously. I'm done talking about this.
And the worst of all the offenses is the rumor that President Obama is trying to somehow sabotage the United States and deliver us into the hands of Iran. I'm guessing this is also because he is the anti-Christ. Ugh. Really? We really need to get into this discussion again?
Look, the bottom line is that both candidates have their good points and their bad ones. Both parties have their faults and failures. No one party is a clear winner for all Americans. That is why we have this fantastic thing called the right to vote. If you feel strongly that one candidate or another is the right choice for you, I highly suggest you exercise your right and cast a ballot. Let your vote be your voice. Speak through the polls, and keep Facebook friendly.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
"I Am Afraid"
I took the title from the blog of a sweet Pakistani girl who is paying for her words with her life. As we speak, Malala Yousafzai is in a hospital in Peshawar, Afghanistan, lucky to survive an attack on her life because she was brave enough to say that enough was enough. It is in her honor that I write.
Backstory.
Malala Yousafzai is only fourteen years old. Her wisdom seems far beyond her years. But I think that is because she has had to grow up in circumstances that do not allow for her to enjoy her youth. She lives in fear because she is held in the oppression of the Taliban. She began an anonymous blog a few years ago describing her life under Taliban rule in her community in the Swat Valley. Even at eleven years old she understood the consequences of a life lived contrary to the medieval rule of the Taliban. One night, with her fears and anxiety coming to a head, she dreamt of helicopters and Taliban militants and wrote the now-famous "I Am Afraid" post.
SATURDAY JAN. 3: I AM AFRAID I had a terrible dream yesterday with military helicopters and the Taliban. I have had such dreams since the launch of the military operation in Swat. My mother made me breakfast and I went off to school. I was afraid going to school because the Taliban had issued an edict banning all girls from attending schools.High Praise.
Only 11 students attended the class out of 27. The number decreased because of Taliban’s edict. My three friends have shifted to Peshawar, Lahore and Rawalpindi with their families after this edict.
On my way from school to home I heard a man saying "I will kill you." I hastened my pace and after a while I looked back if the man was still coming behind me. But to my utter relief he was talking on his mobile and must have been threatening someone else over the phone.
In 2009, Malala was nominated for the International Children's Peace Prize, and was given Pakistan's first-ever National Youth Peace Prize for her outspoken support of girl's education. Recently she led a delegation of children's right activists, sponsored by UNICEF, that made special presentations to provincial leadership in Peshawar. Prime Minister Raja Pervez Ashraf said in Parliament, "she is our daughter" and her urged support for her cause.
Gunshots.
Gunshots.
Malala boarded a school bus to head home after a day of studies. Reports claim that a gunman boarded the school bus and began asking some of the girls if there were Malala Yousafzai. When the first two girls said that they were not her, they were shot. Eventually Malala was found, and shot twice - once in the neck, and once in the head.
The Taliban quickly claimed responsibility for the attacks, saying that Malala is "the symbol of infidels and obscenity."
The Taliban quickly claimed responsibility for the attacks, saying that Malala is "the symbol of infidels and obscenity."
At this hour.
As of the time I write this, the bullet has been successfully removed from her neck and doctors at the Combined Military Hospital in Peshawar have said that she is "out of danger." Doctors have confirmed that her brain did not suffer permanent damage. They say that the next 3-4 days are critical.
I Am Afraid.
I have fear also. I am afraid that what we have seen is only the beginning. I am afraid for a society that believes it can solve issues by subjugation and oppression. I am afraid for communities that struggle to survive against their own people. I am afraid for children who grow up too quickly, understand war too well, and die too young.
This fourteen-year-old girl has done so much more to advance her culture in her short years than I have ever done in all of mine. I celebrate her. I honor her. I want to be like her. She was brave in the face of conflict, and fierce in times of struggle.
It is easy for me to look across the span of many oceans and say, "I fear for them" and then, just as easily, forget them. But then I look inward. What about me? I'm afraid for me, too. I fear that I have within me nothing that is braver than a few meaningless words on the internet. I fear that I do not have courage enough to stand up and say, with a voice bigger than my oppressor, enough is enough. I fear that in the face of danger I will cower, instead of standing up for what is right.
This fourteen-year-old girl has done so much more to advance her culture in her short years than I have ever done in all of mine. I celebrate her. I honor her. I want to be like her. She was brave in the face of conflict, and fierce in times of struggle.
Change.
I was recently told, "Dana, you can't save the world." At first, I felt a deep sting. I felt offended. I realize that this statement is not altogether false. Alone, I cannot save the world. But if everyone on the planet decided to defy that statement, something amazing could happen. Maybe the world would not be transformed immediately into a peaceful place of harmony and love, but we could give it a head start. If we treated the planet with respect, and the people on it with value, how much better off would it be? Maybe there would be far fewer Malalas being airlifted to hospitals with gunshot wounds. Maybe there would be far fewer roadside bombings. Maybe there would be far fewer ozone watch days, and fewer patients suffering from shortness of breath. Maybe we would be economically safe(r) and maybe we would be able to really talk about issues instead of slinging mud. I cannot promise these results, but is it not worth a try? Malala would think so. Malala did think so. I am willing to bet that at some point someone told her she could not change the world, either, but generations of school girls in Pakistan will think differently.
Enough is enough.
It is easy, looking through the red, white, and blue glasses of the American way to say that it is wrong for any government to oppress women in this way. But a little tolerance would go a long way. I understand that religious differences and cultural freedoms are what makes each country and culture unique and special. I would never be in favor of Americans busting in to make a society more like American society. I think America is great, but it wouldn't be so great if we weren't a society made up of so many other unique societies. I respect the religious beliefs and cultural etiquette of other countries and groups. If Muslims or Afghans believe that women should not be educated, I respect that. It's difficult to accept, but I respect that.
What I do not respect is using the threat of death for anyone who disagrees. What I do not respect is "bullying" your people to follow your rules. And I do not respect the violent blood bath of a child to prove your view.
At some point, we, not as Americans or Canadians or Afghans or whomever we associate with, but we, as human beings, must stand up and say enough is enough. There has to be a better way to communicate our feelings and our views than through the vicious slayings of our own citizens. This message I not only speak to those in Afghanistan, Pakistan, China, Mexico... but right here at home.
Enough is enough.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Momma Grace
Tonight I experienced one of the lesser joyful parts of motherhood: discipline. I always swore that I would never discipline my children the way I was disciplined, but I suppose children always say that, as none of us are exactly big fans of having to be corrected or punished. But as I have had to experience this painful part of parenting on more than one occasion, I have begun to take notice of my parenting style, only to discover that I have, in fact, become my own mother - a thought that both frightens and intrigues me.
I feel that in my 13+ years of motherhood, I have learned a trick or two. I have gained wisdom not only through the experience of those who went before me, but also through observation of my own parenting technique - or lack thereof - and through the kind of gentle prodding of my Heavenly Father. I can only hope that these sources have led me to be a better mother than had I attempted to parent solely by my own instinct.
Tonight, my only daughter, also my youngest child, tested me, as she often does. Her personality is nothing like me or my husband, though her stubborn nature comes honestly from both sides. She is flighty, unique, and creative. She has an imagination as big as creation, and is deeply sensitive and dramatic. Organization is most definitely not her forte, and she is often driven by flights of fancy rather than reality. She's not delusional, just delightfully optimistic and fantastic. While all of these qualities make her special, unique, and wonderfully different, they can often drive me to the brink of insanity. I can't relate to her. I don't understand her. I feel disrespected and defied, when I often think that she means me no harm, but simply doesn't exactly live in the same dimension as I do. Her priorities are not the same as mine, and she places no value on things like time, place, or practicality. She looks at me with the innocent confusion of a deaf person being spoken to by a mumbler, simply unable to understand why I would be angry at her for something as simple as not putting her clothes away. My anger seems to be such a surprise to her, not because she honestly didn't think disobedience wouldn't annoy me, but because she doesn't consider her laundry to be important the way I do. It is given very little value, and is often instantly dismissed because there are art projects to complete, and fairy tales to write - things which rank so much higher in her kingdom than in mine. And I get so frustrated, so angry, so furious...
After repeated attempts to get this precious gift from God to put her clothes away, I began to implement a spanking system. For those who are not fans of corporal punishment, I should warn you to please look away. Every time she didn't do as she was told, I gave her a spanking. And she would earn one additional spanking every time she repeated the violation. My hope was that after 5 or 6 spankings she would just give up and behave. But the child earned 17 spankings in one evening, all for not putting her clothes away as directed. You can see my frustration. No parent enjoys spanking their child. But we do it because we need to correct a specific undesirable behavior. After giving the 17th spanking, I decided that this method was simply not working. I had to do something big, something drastic, to get her attention and nip this clothing issue in the bud. I decided to take away Buddy, her beloved pet crawfish (yes, a pet crawfish - but that is a whole different story). I grabbed up the fish bowl and told her that Buddy was going to live in our neighborhood pond. That child fell to pieces. She told me she would take 20 spankings right then and there if I would let her keep Buddy. My heart broke. Was I prepared to crush the child's heart over folded laundry? Was I prepared to handle the consequences of not following through on a threat? I honestly didn't know what to do. An honest-to-goodness Momma Dilemma of the worst kind: how to discipline your child without scarring them for life.
The child is a mess. At any given time she has no idea where her shoes are, she can't locate a hairbrush to save her life, and she may or may not have done her homework. But that complete and total walking disaster is the heart of my heart, the soul of my soul, and the reason I even get to earn my stripes as a Momma. She might be a mess, but she's my mess. And I'd give anything for her. Anything. If she's willing to take 20 spankings to save a crawfish's life, how much more am I willing to sacrifice for hers?
I decided I needed to walk away and think about it. I sent her to bed, and began a walk of shame down the stairs. I felt so bad for having put the child through so much over those stupid piles of laundry. I yelled at her, saying "it wasn't worth 17 spankings for those clothes, was it?" But I found myself asking, "it wasn't worth breaking her heart over those clothes, was it?" Ugh. Maybe it was, but maybe it wasn't. I didn't think I was really teaching her a lesson about putting clothes away so much as I was teaching her that violating mom's rules results in harsh punishment, and keeps you from the things you love.
What if that's what life was really like? You screw up, you get shunned. It's not. I know that when I make mistakes there are real, sometimes painful, consequences - and I definitely don't want my kids to think the world is a place where mistakes are without consequence. But when I mess up, God gives grace. God doesn't take everything I love away from me because I sin. Grace. That's what it's all about.
Perhaps it's ironic that the child that gives me such fits was also given the middle name of "Grace" before I ever even knew how much I would need to be reminded of the need for it.
Monday, August 27, 2012
A Mother's Second Wind
I have said for months, maybe years now, that being a mom is a thankless job. It's hours and hours, days and days, of diapers and midnight feedings. Then later there's nightmares, first-day-of-kindergarten jitters. Followed by homework help, the first day of junior high, acne. Then, before you know it, there's broken hearts, driver's licenses, and graduation. And behind all of it is a dedicated mom who wants nothing more than for her child to succeed. But while moms do it out of love, it can sometimes seem difficult to keep going, knowing there are very few, if any, times the words "thank you" come out of the mouths of those very same children. It can definitely make it difficult to stay motivated.
I had been feeling a little bit down about my job as stay-at-home mom. I had even been considering going back to work, feeling like my kids didn't really need me anymore. I had all but lost my drive to do the difficult job of laundry, shuffling kids to and from practice, grocery shopping, homework help, and dishes. But as the new school year was approaching, and I had no other prospects in line, I prayed that God would show me what He had in store for me.
I haven't felt enthusiastic about these mundane jobs and chores that are required of a stay-at-home mom... until just two short weeks ago, when I heard God's voice speaking to me. And I immediately prayed that God would put it in my heart to do this job to the fullest, as if I were serving Him, and always doing my best. Granted, it's only been two weeks, but I have thoroughly enjoyed my mundane jobs. I feel renewed and re-awakened. I feel like God has given me a second wind.
I had been feeling a little bit down about my job as stay-at-home mom. I had even been considering going back to work, feeling like my kids didn't really need me anymore. I had all but lost my drive to do the difficult job of laundry, shuffling kids to and from practice, grocery shopping, homework help, and dishes. But as the new school year was approaching, and I had no other prospects in line, I prayed that God would show me what He had in store for me.
Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart,
as working for the Lord, not
for men
Colossians 3:23
Over and over again, God brought this scripture to my mind. It even came up in a sermon recently at church. Obviously, God has a message for me. And once I stopped running from what I thought I didn't want to hear, I opened my ears and my heart and heard God speaking to me loud and clear: Why are you running from this job, this important job I gave you, when this is what you are supposed to be doing?I haven't felt enthusiastic about these mundane jobs and chores that are required of a stay-at-home mom... until just two short weeks ago, when I heard God's voice speaking to me. And I immediately prayed that God would put it in my heart to do this job to the fullest, as if I were serving Him, and always doing my best. Granted, it's only been two weeks, but I have thoroughly enjoyed my mundane jobs. I feel renewed and re-awakened. I feel like God has given me a second wind.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Gun. Control.
I live in Texas, where gun laws are pretty liberal. Most folks have at least one gun in their home, and likely at least one in their car or on their person. My husband, in fact, is a Concealed Handgun Licensee and we own multiple guns. Someone trying to break in to our home wouldn't stand much chance with the small arsenal we have. I like guns. I like to shoot. I have never shot anything but targets and maybe a beer can, but it feels good to gently squeeze the trigger and cause a chemical reaction to abruptly and rapidly launch a projectile to wherever I choose. It feels good to be in control.
I have been asked how I feel about guns before. There was a time, in my youth, when I was afraid of guns because all I knew of them was their power to destroy. But I got a little older and learned more about them. In the Navy, I learned about the physical and chemical properties of bullets, and the mechanics of the gun, that cause it to be effective (or ineffective, as the case may be). I married a hunter, and he taught me about the types of weapons and ammo needed to bring down everything from a large white tail deer to a tiny squirrel. I began to respect the class of weapons we broadly call "guns". And, honestly, I began to really like them.
I hate that there have been so many instances recently of people abusing their opportunity - and their constitutional right - to bear arms. From school shootings, to church massacres, to movie theater terrors... it's all terribly sad that someone used guns in such a terrible way. And because the instance of such shootings has become too common, people begin to throw around terms like "restriction" and "gun control." At this, I shudder.
Constitutional amendment aside, there are plenty of reasons why the government should not be allowed to take my guns away. Making it impossible, or at least difficult, to own or buy a gun does not keep shootings like these from happening. Only law-abiding citizens abide by laws. So, creating laws to keep people from owning guns doesn't stop the bad guys from buying, trading, or otherwise owning and carrying guns (can you say prohibition?). It just keeps the rest of us from legally being able to enjoy the sport of shooting, or defending ourselves. In essence, we would be punished for following the law. That hardly seems fair.
Like I mentioned, I live in Texas - a state known for it's gun laws. I believe, in all seriousness, that should a federal gun law pass forcing Texans to register their guns, surrender their guns, or give up their right to carry their guns, Texas would once again become a sovereign republic. Mark my words. That mess ain't gonna fly in Texas.
Look, let's be honest. If we applied the logic that these kinds of tragedies should mean loss of privilege, none of us should or would own a car, a cell phone, or a steak knife. Stuff happens. There are always folks who do stupid, irresponsible, reckless, and nasty things. But I'm not one of those folks, and I don't believe I should lose out on the constitutional right to keep and bear arms.
Because we are responsible legal gun owners, my husband and I have both taken safety courses for handling and firing our weapons. We have trigger locks where appropriate. We have our guns out of the hands of our children, who have also been taught proper gun safety. We treat our guns with the respect they deserve - after all, they can be deadly weapons if not handled properly. We do things the right way. And for that, we should be praised, not penalized.
Don't take away my guns.
I believe in gun control: It's called a steady hand and a clear head.
I have been asked how I feel about guns before. There was a time, in my youth, when I was afraid of guns because all I knew of them was their power to destroy. But I got a little older and learned more about them. In the Navy, I learned about the physical and chemical properties of bullets, and the mechanics of the gun, that cause it to be effective (or ineffective, as the case may be). I married a hunter, and he taught me about the types of weapons and ammo needed to bring down everything from a large white tail deer to a tiny squirrel. I began to respect the class of weapons we broadly call "guns". And, honestly, I began to really like them.
I hate that there have been so many instances recently of people abusing their opportunity - and their constitutional right - to bear arms. From school shootings, to church massacres, to movie theater terrors... it's all terribly sad that someone used guns in such a terrible way. And because the instance of such shootings has become too common, people begin to throw around terms like "restriction" and "gun control." At this, I shudder.
Constitutional amendment aside, there are plenty of reasons why the government should not be allowed to take my guns away. Making it impossible, or at least difficult, to own or buy a gun does not keep shootings like these from happening. Only law-abiding citizens abide by laws. So, creating laws to keep people from owning guns doesn't stop the bad guys from buying, trading, or otherwise owning and carrying guns (can you say prohibition?). It just keeps the rest of us from legally being able to enjoy the sport of shooting, or defending ourselves. In essence, we would be punished for following the law. That hardly seems fair.
Like I mentioned, I live in Texas - a state known for it's gun laws. I believe, in all seriousness, that should a federal gun law pass forcing Texans to register their guns, surrender their guns, or give up their right to carry their guns, Texas would once again become a sovereign republic. Mark my words. That mess ain't gonna fly in Texas.
Look, let's be honest. If we applied the logic that these kinds of tragedies should mean loss of privilege, none of us should or would own a car, a cell phone, or a steak knife. Stuff happens. There are always folks who do stupid, irresponsible, reckless, and nasty things. But I'm not one of those folks, and I don't believe I should lose out on the constitutional right to keep and bear arms.
"A well-armed populace is the best defense against tyranny." -Thomas Jefferson
Because we are responsible legal gun owners, my husband and I have both taken safety courses for handling and firing our weapons. We have trigger locks where appropriate. We have our guns out of the hands of our children, who have also been taught proper gun safety. We treat our guns with the respect they deserve - after all, they can be deadly weapons if not handled properly. We do things the right way. And for that, we should be praised, not penalized.
Don't take away my guns.
I believe in gun control: It's called a steady hand and a clear head.
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Consumer Alert!
I know I've mentioned it recently, but my husband and I just moved into our new home. We are extremely delighted about the office space, the home theater, and having an extra bedroom. But we quickly discovered that our phone reception was almost nonexistent. If Matt wants to work from home, which I'm assuming he does, given the fact that we now have a home office from which he can work, he needs reliable phone connectivity. So, we had to bite the bullet and go old-school and get a "land line". Fortunately, this is a pretty inexpensive adjustment.
My beef in this post is not with AT&T, although it puzzles me that I am receiving a "no service" message on my phone in an area so heavily populated. No, my beef isn't even with Comcast, who is now providing the home phone bundled with my internet, though I have plenty of other reason to fuss about Comcast. No, this is a warning to potential customers of ADT Security.
So, back to the home phone. See, we had to get a home phone, which means we had to get a new phone number. For FOUR DOLLARS A MONTH Comcast would ensure our number would remain unlisted. Yes, they actually want to charge a fee for that. Matt & I decided it wasn't worth the cost - after all, who uses a phone book anymore?? But it became evident that we were wrong not to pay the fee.
Enter ADT Security. Two days after our home phone was installed, we got a solicitation call from an ADT Security salesperson. My husband politely said we weren't interested and hung up. Within an hour, call #2 from ADT. Again, we aren't interested. This is day 5 with the new phone number. All but 18 of the calls listed on the phone's received call list are from ADT Security call centers across the country wanting for us to buy a security system. SEVENTEEN sales calls in 5 days. This doesn't include the half-dozen or so calls I haven't answered.
I tried to be polite at first. I even requested that my number be removed from their call list. But the calls keep coming. I just took one about 30 minutes ago. Their speech is always the same, and I always interrupt to tell them about this crazy saga - boy meets girl, boy marries girl, boy and girl buy house, boy and girl are harassed by relentless ADT sales people. And finally a sales person informed me of the problem. She said, "ADT call centers are not linked, so we have no way of knowing which call center has your number on the Do Not Call List."
So let me see if I understand this. You are one of the largest security companies in the country, and yet you can't tell if a customer in the Houston market has already said no seventeen times? And you're not concerned that your sales methods border on harassment? But I should trust you to monitor my home for theft, fire, carbon monoxide, etc? How can this possibly be a good idea?
The plot thickens. I signed up for the National Do Not Call Registry at www.donotcall.gov, but this process can take weeks to take effect! Is there no help for consumers - or I guess, in my case, a non-consumer - who do not want to be the target of dozens of cold calls that only result in unkind words and harsh tones followed by the deafening slam of the phone??
I told the most recent caller that not only did I not now want ADT, I didn't want it 17 calls ago, and I won't want it in the future. In fact, I told her, I would recommend that my friends not seek ADT as their security provider. I would not in any way support a company that felt it was okay to pester people in their own homes, or that was so disorganized that they were unaware as to who had been called and declined! Worse yet, what if I had told that first caller that I would love for them to come out and set me up with a security system and then I got 16 more calls wanting to know if I would be interested in their "secure monitoring"?!? Can you say awkward?
I don't do this very often, but I will do it now. I highly encourage anyone who might be considering a security system to consider this: how secure can you really feel when the company that supposedly has your back doesn't even know if they have it or not?
PS - we have gone another route for our security needs and I'm happy to say that our new system works great, without the harassment. :)
My beef in this post is not with AT&T, although it puzzles me that I am receiving a "no service" message on my phone in an area so heavily populated. No, my beef isn't even with Comcast, who is now providing the home phone bundled with my internet, though I have plenty of other reason to fuss about Comcast. No, this is a warning to potential customers of ADT Security.
So, back to the home phone. See, we had to get a home phone, which means we had to get a new phone number. For FOUR DOLLARS A MONTH Comcast would ensure our number would remain unlisted. Yes, they actually want to charge a fee for that. Matt & I decided it wasn't worth the cost - after all, who uses a phone book anymore?? But it became evident that we were wrong not to pay the fee.
Enter ADT Security. Two days after our home phone was installed, we got a solicitation call from an ADT Security salesperson. My husband politely said we weren't interested and hung up. Within an hour, call #2 from ADT. Again, we aren't interested. This is day 5 with the new phone number. All but 18 of the calls listed on the phone's received call list are from ADT Security call centers across the country wanting for us to buy a security system. SEVENTEEN sales calls in 5 days. This doesn't include the half-dozen or so calls I haven't answered.
I tried to be polite at first. I even requested that my number be removed from their call list. But the calls keep coming. I just took one about 30 minutes ago. Their speech is always the same, and I always interrupt to tell them about this crazy saga - boy meets girl, boy marries girl, boy and girl buy house, boy and girl are harassed by relentless ADT sales people. And finally a sales person informed me of the problem. She said, "ADT call centers are not linked, so we have no way of knowing which call center has your number on the Do Not Call List."
So let me see if I understand this. You are one of the largest security companies in the country, and yet you can't tell if a customer in the Houston market has already said no seventeen times? And you're not concerned that your sales methods border on harassment? But I should trust you to monitor my home for theft, fire, carbon monoxide, etc? How can this possibly be a good idea?
The plot thickens. I signed up for the National Do Not Call Registry at www.donotcall.gov, but this process can take weeks to take effect! Is there no help for consumers - or I guess, in my case, a non-consumer - who do not want to be the target of dozens of cold calls that only result in unkind words and harsh tones followed by the deafening slam of the phone??
I told the most recent caller that not only did I not now want ADT, I didn't want it 17 calls ago, and I won't want it in the future. In fact, I told her, I would recommend that my friends not seek ADT as their security provider. I would not in any way support a company that felt it was okay to pester people in their own homes, or that was so disorganized that they were unaware as to who had been called and declined! Worse yet, what if I had told that first caller that I would love for them to come out and set me up with a security system and then I got 16 more calls wanting to know if I would be interested in their "secure monitoring"?!? Can you say awkward?
I don't do this very often, but I will do it now. I highly encourage anyone who might be considering a security system to consider this: how secure can you really feel when the company that supposedly has your back doesn't even know if they have it or not?
PS - we have gone another route for our security needs and I'm happy to say that our new system works great, without the harassment. :)
A different side of a familiar lady
As I was unpacking boxes from the recent move, I came across a package of old pictures and slides. I enjoy a good trip down Memory Lane, so I opened the envelope and began thumbing through goofy pictures of my brothers and sisters and I in our youth. The 70s were not kind to any of us. But after a few moments, and a lot of giggles, I came across a picture I was sure I had never seen before. While the rest of the photographs had yellowed and faded, this particular picture was immaculate and crisp, like the day it had first been processed (yes, this is before we had the blessing of digital photography, kids).
I must've stared at it for at least a minute before I realized what I was staring at. It was a picture of my mother, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. At first I didn't recognize her. In nearly all the pictures from my youth she has short hair, glasses, and no makeup. But in this picture, she looked incredible. She was thin, but not sickly, and wearing very tight jeans (again, the 70s). She had on high-heeled sandals and a low-cut pink blouse. Her face was freshly made, with matching pink lipstick. Her hair was shoulder-length, layered, and glossy. If I didn't recognize her eyes, I might have thought it was a model. She was absolutely gorgeous, leading me to believe this picture must've been taken before my brothers and sisters and I were around - we had a tendency to leave her looking tired and disheveled.
Of all the things that looked incredible in her picture - her makeup, her clothes, her figure, her hair - there was one thing that was completely unmistakably "Vicki". She barely cracked a smile - something common to all of her pictures, even dating back to her childhood photos. And then there were her eyes. Even if she had grinned from ear to ear, her eyes would never reveal what she was really thinking, and I guarantee that she was thinking about something. Her mind never stopped. And her eyes, never sad, but always deep in thought in some other time or dimension, wouldn't ever really let you see inside to what was going on behind her beautiful exterior.
I always thought my mom was pretty. Especially in the pictures my grandma showed me of her sweet baby girl all the way through high school. She was long and lean, with gorgeous hair and skin, and elegant and graceful. She always looked confident, without looking egotistical. But as pretty as I thought she was, she seemed to want to be photographed. She enjoyed being on the other side of the camera, with the ability to do what cameras couldn't ever seem to do for her - see past the beautiful shell to the inner workings of one of the most intelligent, determined women I had ever had the pleasure to know. In every picture, her eyes seemed to put up a barrier that wouldn't allow for emotion to show through.
My mom didn't dress up much when I was a kid. She said pantyhose were uncomfortable, and high heels made her feet hurt. She said she was glad when my dad's business took off and she was able to stay home with us kids. Ironically, she once told me, her feet hurt from that job worse than an entire day in heels. But the job of stay-at-home-Mom didn't allow for glamour. She stayed busy running after us, shuttling us to and from school and practice, cleaning, running errands, and keeping a tight ship. Now that I am home with my kids, I definitely understand - and appreciate - why she didn't have time or energy for dresses and makeup. There were very few occasions for wearing something other than blue jeans and tennis shoes. But in this picture, with her hair done, her makeup looking incredible, and figure-flattering clothes, my mom looked like a completely different woman. I could see why my dad was so attracted to her.
My mom was an amazing lady. I treasure the memories I keep of her - even the sloppy, disheveled, messy ones. But this was a side of her I rarely saw. And I am so thankful that it was captured on film.
I must've stared at it for at least a minute before I realized what I was staring at. It was a picture of my mother, looking more beautiful than I had ever seen her. At first I didn't recognize her. In nearly all the pictures from my youth she has short hair, glasses, and no makeup. But in this picture, she looked incredible. She was thin, but not sickly, and wearing very tight jeans (again, the 70s). She had on high-heeled sandals and a low-cut pink blouse. Her face was freshly made, with matching pink lipstick. Her hair was shoulder-length, layered, and glossy. If I didn't recognize her eyes, I might have thought it was a model. She was absolutely gorgeous, leading me to believe this picture must've been taken before my brothers and sisters and I were around - we had a tendency to leave her looking tired and disheveled.
Of all the things that looked incredible in her picture - her makeup, her clothes, her figure, her hair - there was one thing that was completely unmistakably "Vicki". She barely cracked a smile - something common to all of her pictures, even dating back to her childhood photos. And then there were her eyes. Even if she had grinned from ear to ear, her eyes would never reveal what she was really thinking, and I guarantee that she was thinking about something. Her mind never stopped. And her eyes, never sad, but always deep in thought in some other time or dimension, wouldn't ever really let you see inside to what was going on behind her beautiful exterior.
I always thought my mom was pretty. Especially in the pictures my grandma showed me of her sweet baby girl all the way through high school. She was long and lean, with gorgeous hair and skin, and elegant and graceful. She always looked confident, without looking egotistical. But as pretty as I thought she was, she seemed to want to be photographed. She enjoyed being on the other side of the camera, with the ability to do what cameras couldn't ever seem to do for her - see past the beautiful shell to the inner workings of one of the most intelligent, determined women I had ever had the pleasure to know. In every picture, her eyes seemed to put up a barrier that wouldn't allow for emotion to show through.
My mom didn't dress up much when I was a kid. She said pantyhose were uncomfortable, and high heels made her feet hurt. She said she was glad when my dad's business took off and she was able to stay home with us kids. Ironically, she once told me, her feet hurt from that job worse than an entire day in heels. But the job of stay-at-home-Mom didn't allow for glamour. She stayed busy running after us, shuttling us to and from school and practice, cleaning, running errands, and keeping a tight ship. Now that I am home with my kids, I definitely understand - and appreciate - why she didn't have time or energy for dresses and makeup. There were very few occasions for wearing something other than blue jeans and tennis shoes. But in this picture, with her hair done, her makeup looking incredible, and figure-flattering clothes, my mom looked like a completely different woman. I could see why my dad was so attracted to her.
My mom was an amazing lady. I treasure the memories I keep of her - even the sloppy, disheveled, messy ones. But this was a side of her I rarely saw. And I am so thankful that it was captured on film.
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