Patriotism: In G-d We Trust? Pt. 2

To continue my thoughts from the previous post, here’s a theory I heard recently:

America will become a Socialistic country, inhabited by godless, hedonistic citizens. Personal freedoms will be almost entirely eradicated. We will dispose of our nuclear weapons, in an attempt at world peace, only to be annihilated by our enemies. The few people who survive will be dependent on anti-depressants and other drugs, continuing their existence in a dazed, mind-numbing state. America will no longer be a world power or a force to be reckoned with; instead, we’ll be pitied or laughed at. When the world comes to an end, as it inevitably must, our country will play no part in the unfolding end-times developments.

Although this hypothesis may be grim and depressing, is it possible? Acknowledgement that we are on a downhill slope, that conditions will only get worse, may be the first step in preparing for a “worse-case scenario.”

 

Patriotism: In G-d We Trust?

I think the question of America’s future is a fascinating subject. The future in of itself should always provoke some interest, I believe, as the responsibility of life includes forethought and a state of preparedness, but when it relates to the land we live in and the people we live among, additional consideration seems to be called for. This post is just something to think about. I don’t claim to have answers, just questions.

The questions are many. Few deny that we were originally a “Christian Nation” – surely the work of David Barton has done much to support this premise – but are we still deserving of this title? If we are not a Christian nation, how could we honestly expect any blessing from G-d? The emotional tagline “G-d Bless America” rings hollow, in my mind. This is not to say there are not G-d-fearing people in our country, simply that as a nation we cannot be referred to with religious generalities. From my observation, we are certainly not “One Nation Under G-d” anymore, if we ever were. 

(Just as a side note, does America have a special relationship with G-d? After all, He is the G-d of Israel…)

What will the coming years hold for the United States? I’ve heard grand, sweeping statements about being “restored to our former glory” and the “power of revival”… are these ideas the result of wishful thinking? Leaving Scripture aside for the moment, does the example of history give us any hope for a return to morality and freedom? This mentality is possibly understandable if one is actively affecting our lawmakers and policies, taking an aggressive stance in the political arena, but if not, isn’t sitting back and trusting that things will get better equivalent to burying one’s head in the sand?

The Hebrew prophets speak about end times, but their words are shadowy – they echo down to us from the past in a tangle of  apparent symbology… references to land, agriculture, punishment, eternity, and places long since obsolete. Are these prophecies allegorical? Mystical? Or should we take them literally? Most importantly, do they shed any light on our future?

 

Patriotism: virtue of the vicious or virtuous devotion to one’s country?

The Five enthusiastically celebrated Independence Day 2009 with our grandparents in Bristol, patriotic Americans that we are… in perhaps the start of a newer 4th of July tradition. As I reflect on this particular holiday, which needless to say is close to my heart due to the proximity of my birthday, I can recall several different phases.

When we were very little, there would be a gathering in our cul-de-sac… Mr. Donaldson (”Burt”… a true Southerner), our previous next door neighbor, played a key part in organizing this event… there was ice cream (which was rare for us back in those days… yes, amazingly healthy children) and  fireworks (even though they were illegal)… and sitting on the grass in our front yard, which seems to appropriately capture an aspect of the original American frontier spirit.

As we got a little older, the three girls started spending the first week or two of July with my grandparents in Vero Beach, FL… a distinctive point of this phase was the standard phone call to Uncle Adam, since his birthday is the 4th of July… we would have a festive dinner al fresco… then go out on the Indian River Lagoon to watch fireworks from their boat. I love watching fireworks from a boat. And I don’t think they’re illegal in Florida, which is kind of a plus, because <polishes halo> most of the time we are law-abiding citizens.

The last couple years we’ve stayed in Charlotte, or been at Sandcastles, Ocean Isle Beach. The highlight for us is normally the Charlotte Symphony’s annual ‘Celebrate America’ concert in Symphony Park on July 3, complete with fireworks… and we might have a few friends over to swim or grill… before spending a week at the beach. It’s like the perfect American holiday celebration, something out of a Pottery Barn or Ralph Lauren catalogue.

This year,  in what came as a sad disappointment to the Charlotte community, Symphony officials chose to cancel the patriotic concert because the Squicciarini family would not be present. However, because of our love for the city, we begged conductor George-Albert Schram to reconsider. “The show must go on!” we pleaded. He finally agreed, with the provision that there would be no fireworks. “How could we light up the Charlotte sky when you will be missing?” he asked, in his charming accent. So the music played…

 

It’s All About Us

We left Charlotte Thursday afternoon and headed north to spend the Fourth in a cool place and a cooler climate. I mean… with my grandparents at their estate in The Virginian, Bristol, VA.

My parents did a pretty good job containing their excitement at seeing all five of us leave, but we knew they were practically holding their collective breath until we were out the door, down the driveway, and on our way out of town.

The temperature was 95 degrees as we left Charlotte; an hour later it was 85. An hour later, 75. Since the drive is four hours north, I started to worry Bristol would be in the 50’s.

I suggested having a gluten-free oatmeal cookie for dinner, but that didn’t go over well with the passengers, so we were forced to stop along the way. Julianna insisted we couldn’t eat fast food. “No,” she said, “definitely not fast food. Something like Chick-fil-A, or Arby’s.”

We arrived pretty much on time. My grandparents were surprised to see us. “Wow,” they commented, “we didn’t expect you yet.” Last time we came the drive took about six hours. I don’t know why. Maybe we were going the speed limit or something.

In our initial conversation Thursday evening, we were encouraged to elope. Just saying. So if we ever do, everyone will know whose suggestion it was… Nana.

Interestingly, both of my grandparents have books in the making. As in, ones they are writing or planning to write. My grandfather has started his memoirs, cleverly titled “It’s All About Me,” purportedly containing the vast wisdom he has gleaned over the years.

Nana, on the other hand, is planning a fictional novel called “Lagoon,” to be a thinly veiled autobiography of her fascinating life and adventures; somewhat, I imagine, in the style of Nicole Ritchie and Lauren Conrad, although hopefully with a little more intrigue.

We can’t wait to read both.

Our first full day has been delightful. We visited “A Likely Yarn” in Abingdon, which didn’t remember us, and then the infamous 50-foot cliff in Holstein Dam, which did. The water level has changed so drastically since we were here last year that the cliff we jumped from (or rather, fell from – and it felt like a 10-story drop… speaking of which, anyone know the rate of free fall? 32 feet per second squared. Trivia courtesy of my brother.) is now a mere 15 feet from the lake, and the small island we climbed on is… gone. Only a few brave trees poke through the water.

Everytime we try to help around the house we are told firmly to stop. We know this will later be translated into, “We had to wait on them hand and foot…”

At this point in the early evening, Mary is reading a cosmology book that none of us really understand; Christine is writing thank you notes for the myriad of graduation gifts she received; Julianna is flipping through her London/Paris scrapbook; Peter is playing a diverse selection of contemporary piano pieces, and as usual I am observing the group.

(I included that paragraph for the sole purpose of using the word myriad.)

To close this post, I asked Pete if he knew a Pengal proverb that meant, “so far, so good.” He didn’t.

So instead, we’ll have to conclude with a most apropos statement.

Happy Birthday to Me!

 

Supercalifragileisticexpealadocios

Random question… how many of you have ever had an anonymous gift from Tiffany’s show up on your doorstep?

It happened to us yesterday.

I tried so hard to convince everyone it was an early birthday gift for me… but I was overruled by the consensus that it was a graduation gift for Christine. <sigh>

This reminds me of the time we found a package containing $1000 in small bills… in our mailbox. (yeah, the “early birthday gift” line didn’t work then either…)

Basically we’re always finding stuff around our house. Sometimes it’s unpleasant, like mice in the pool, and other times it’s pretty nice, like presents or money. 

Never Stop Looking.

 

Requiescat ad infinitum

Today, June 27 2009, has been christened L’Olam Shabbat, a Hebrew phrase coined to distinguish this day as having the most daylight hours of Shabbat. It means Forever Shabbat, or the Shabbat that goes on… and on… and on. To give you an idea of the length we’re talking about, when we got up this morning – despite sleeping in (no alarm clocks on Shabbat) – there were nearly 12 remaining hours of Shabbat… 12 hours to rest, pray, read, study, eat, sleep, swim, talk, and laugh. By way of comparison, the shortest Shabbat in the year (or the one with least daylight hours) is about 8 to 8.5 hours long.

On one hand, 12 hours of Shabbat - wow, that’s amazing! You can get a lot done in so much time. It sounds like bliss. (But on the other hand, wow… that’s a long time.) If you haven’t ever spent 12 full hours (minus maybe one or two for a nap) in the close company of your immediate family, then you probably don’t have any idea what this day was like!

Disclaimer: although this post was written tongue in cheek, the day was truly pleasant, restful, and a delight – everything Shabbat should be.

 

Reflecting on a year at the USO

Julianna and I are coming up on a full year of volunteering with the USO – by the end of July, we will have reached 12 months of service at the Charlotte USO. In honor of that milestone, and in the spirit of patriotism surrounding us as the 4th of July approaches, here are the top 10 reasons we love coming to the USO:

1. (M) Any excuse to be at the airport! “Ladies and gentlemen, please keep a close watch on your personal baggage at all times… if you notice any suspicious persons or unusual activity, please report it to your nearest law enforcement officer.” Love it. And there never are any policemen around when this announcement plays.

2. (J) Our ever-growing list of “friends” among the airport personnel: Freddie, Darren, Pete, John Regeis, Mike, Rich, Chris…and the list goes on and on.

3. (M) “WE NEED THEM. THEY NEED THE USO. THE USO NEEDS YOU. IT’S THAT SIMPLE.” 

(You can visit www.uso-nc.org to see what else is going on in Charlotte, or go to www.uso.org to find a center near you.)

4. (J) Those long, introspective walks down the B Concourse to pick up 40 Bojangles biscuits at 6:15am. The walk there is pleasant. The walk back? …no comment.

5. (M) Parking 3 miles from the airport, in the small hours of the morning, and taking an employee shuttle to the concourse. Since we are the only ones not in uniform, most people assume we work at the US Airways lounge. Which sounds a little… sketch, if you catch my drift.

6. (J) Knowing that flashing your biggest, brightest smile and giving your cheeriest “Good morning!” actually will make someone’s day.

7. (M) Employee badges. With photos. As if it wasn’t bad enough to get a driver’s license, here’s another chance to get your picture taken under harsh fluorescent lighting! Yay! When the badges were first issued, there was… a glitch with the layout… so the pictures were distorted and we looked like pointy-headed aliens… however, the updated badges have corrected this fault. <sigh of relief>

8. (J) When some random man or woman decides that standing up front and talking with us is *better* than sitting in the armchairs with free food and free coffee. I mean, I totally agree with them – but it’s always a lot of fun when someone else realizes it, too.

9. (M) The way each shift is a new experience. Searching for dental floss… figuring out how to work the DVD player… learning the subtle difference between video game controllers… shipping a serviceman’s jacket accidentally left behind… trying to locate documents in the B concourse lost and found… meeting a policeman from the K9 unit and his dog… greeting Mr. and Mrs. Jack Ahart as they came through (Jack is the former Charlotte USO director)… flipping through the comments notebook and seeing all the rave reviews for our center… sympathizing with travelers when their flights are delayed another 3 hours… getting the call that our missing co-worker overslept… it’s always different and always an adventure.

10. (J) Getting to know our coworkers really well. Don, who likes to work Christmas Day with his wife, Paula, since they are older and their kids have moved out – what better way to spend Christmas than ministering to our military and spending time with each other? Boyd, who loves Godiva chocolate – especially the White Chocolate Raspberry Star. Oscar, who knows everything about everything going on at the airport, the USO, and the US Airways Lounge. Kathleen, who has gone back to college as an adult to take culinary classes, because she loves to cook. You get the idea. With three hours on a slow morning, people tend to open up about themselves.

Conclusion? We ♥ the USO.

 

:: [(no subject)] ::

1. Almost every day someone finds our website by searching for poolside seats. This is because of a small post last spring which announced the availability of our swimming pool, called “Poolside Seats Are Now Available.” The post, somewhat deceptively titled, had nothing to do with poolside seats (it can be summarized as “the pool is open.”). *googles poolside seats* But there we are on the first page of hits. Perhaps disappointingly, we don’t sell poolside seats… we don’t even have lovely Pottery Barn-type photos of our outdoor furniture. What is a poolside seat? A chaise lounge? A lawn chair? Could a porch swing be considered a poolside seat? Or should the term be used literally, like sitting on the actual pool edge and dangling your toes in the water?

2. We set up a distribution list for our family, used it all the time because it was so much easier than typing six email addresses, and found out recently that one of our business partners, a Canadian firm, has been on the list all along… somehow.  *frowns at the in-house technicians* This security breach has potentially compromised internal affairs at The Residence (or at least given LPI a few really terrific pics of the vacation rentals at Holden Beach and copies of several birthday lists).

3. And speaking of security… someone in North Carolina just got a new camera! It wasn’t us! But… we paid for it! Anyone using ecommerce these days runs the risk of fraud, but it’s one of those things we never expect will happen to us. We weren’t sure about the charge on our business credit card… the email “OK, WHO SPENT THE MONEY AT NEWEGG?” went around to QV employees… and then after a short but painful formal inquiry we realized that yes, there are thieves among us. Well, not among us, but…you get the idea. So if you just purchased a new FUJIFILM camera with our card (and don’t want to admit it), you’re welcome. Enjoy. Take lots of pictures for us.

 

For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow

by Julianna Squicciarini

Well, it’s Father’s Day. Again. And that must mean we’re heading up to Boone Fork Trail for our annual Father’s Day hike on that “moderately easy” woodland path.

<chuckle> NOT!

No, readers, Boone Fork Trail was an interesting and perhaps worthwhile experience, which will not be repeated in the near future. This Father’s Day, we played it very safe and got our dad a grill. Or, rather, he got himself a grill and our mom helped pick it out. And, seeing as that gift wasn’t really from us, WE (meaning his five children) got him a monogrammed leather wine dossier to keep track of his favorite bottles. Talk about Children of the Century.

So today, instead of getting up to Boone nice and early, we slept in late and our dad cooked us a great breakfast. On his new grill. I know – weird. Especially considering that it was an egg breakfast…hmmm….well, the eggs were cooked inside. He did the sausage and hashbrowns (do I even need to say it was kosher sausage? you all know that by now, right?). It was very good.

And instead of trekking through damp forests and sidestepping cow patties, we sunbathed and swam with friends in our gorgeous 20×40′ pool. Our father graciously allowed us to have an Open Swim this afternoon. What a guy!

And as we speak (or as I type), our father is subbing for Emeril and cooking us an amazing dinner. Also on his grill. THAT gift was a hit. It’s a steak that’s bigger than my head. However, it only feeds 4 to 6 people. There’s something wrong with this picture…

On that delicious note, may I take this opportunity to wish all the fathers reading this the very happiest and relaxed Father’s Day ever. I’m sure you all deserve it.

For he’s a jolly good fellow, which nobody can deny!

 

Cleverly Disguised As A Responsible Adult

Peter drove me to the Promenade last week.

It was a strange feeling.

No, we didn’t use my car. He’s a little too big for it, if you know what I mean. And the whole “cute” thing doesn’t fit his personality. Not that he’s not cute, please don’t misunderstand.

We remind him frequently that he’ll make more money when he can drive. The way Quo Vadis operates, it’s always helpful to have a bright, personable, technican who can easily do onsite work and have personal interaction with clients. Despite the incentive, he doesn’t have overwhelming enthusiasm to get out there and practice… but that could just be his laid back, easygoing nature. I don’t know.

He did pretty well, all things considered. There was one moment when I said casually, “slow down…” and he answered indignantly, “I’m going the speed limit!” …and then we almost hit the car in front of us, which had come to a somewhat sudden stop to make  a left turn off Stallings Road.

I’m pretty cool with the whole learning-to-drive thing. My dad tends to get a little …emphatic with his instructions, while my mother brings knitting along to distract her from other vehicles zipping by as the new driver races recklessly along the road. But as I see it, isn’t getting home alive the most important part of driving? That’s pretty much undisputed. So why not have fun along the way, giving someone a chance to make those first-time faux pas… turns that are a little too sharp, struggling to fit into a parking spot, weaving back and forth on the road, getting lost in your own neighborhood…