Monday Morning Rant 83

God provided another smooth trip to Miami to be with the Saints and listen to elder Lee Reynolds from Maple Grove deliver an excellent sermon. His experiences with the Navajos and the mission have certainly enhanced his view of the Lord’s good works with all men. Our normal numbers were swelled by the presence of many extras in the pews. Mostly younger people; it was enough to fill the hearts of the older members with great joy. The age balance in the congregation is very encouraging.

There’s Got to be a Morning After

One of the advantages of having been a rampaging drunk is the opportunity to appreciate fully the errors of the past and thoroughly enjoy recovery in progress—28+ years now. You may get sick of hearing about it but I rejoice in that God-given boon in my life. The wisdom I have gained from it is not complicated nor is it infallible.

The greatest joy is the realization that I am no longer responsible for running the world since I decided to “let go and let God.” That takes a considerable load off my shoulders. Now I can sit back and watch the addictive behavior of others and comfort myself with the notions that there, but for the grace of God, go I. Addiction takes many forms which don’t necessarily involve pills, smoke, alcohol or other dangerous substances. It is really more of a state of mind which falsely elevates the importance and selfishness of an individual to an unattainable height. We observe this in the power brokers in the congress, behind the desk in the oval office and scattered about in the myriad petty bureaus so ubiquitous in the District of Columbia. I really wish that they would take up booze and drugs and leave the management of my life as an issue to be worked out between me and my higher power.

Like it or not, many in high places have become addicted to the rush accompanying their pursuance of authority. As the president reminds anyone who will listen, “I won!” What he fails to recognize is that in most races the victor gets to rest, relax and kick back and enjoy the fruits of his victory. In his most recent endeavor he is figuring out that the _expression “to the victor belong the spoils” should really be: “you won an ugly job; now deal with it.

Where is Osama bin Laden?

One might think that Osama would be anxious to contact Obama and send one of his video “cave side chats” to the new president. It has been strangely absent in the nine weeks since the inauguration. This has become such a tradition that we miss it when it doesn’t show up.

It is especially mysterious because our new chief executive is the recipient of one of those “na-na-na-na-nah” moments. With all the problems he has, it would appear an ideal time for Osama to taunt him as well. It would certainly fit the third grade mind set propagated by both sides.

For a more realistic view of the situation we turn to a column on the Volokh Conspiracy from Randy Barnettt

“Osama bin Elvis: Angelo M. Codevilla, a professor of international relations at Boston University, has a fascinating analysis of the "war on terror" that challenges the conventional wisdom of conservatives, progressives, and libertarians alike. In fact, his essay Osama bin Elvis challenges so much conventional wisdom that it makes your head spin. Yet it is curiously plausible and even sensible.” The link takes you to the archive page and you will have to scroll nearly to the bottom for the March 15 article with excerpts from essay. This is definitely a "read the whole thing" piece……

My only question after reading this was to ask if not Osama, then who?

A Bonus Scandal at Wal-mart

It was bound to happen. The frequently maligned Wal-Mart has really done it this time. They have announced the distribution of assorted bonuses to “special” employees to the tune of nearly 2 billion in cash, 401k contributions and merchandise certificates. The only remaining question then is what constitutes a "special “employee. It turns out that over half of the recipients are hourly employees.

You know them well; the geezer who hustles up a shopping cart, the lady that slices that good French bread, the guy in house wares who is the only one who knows where that reverse tape roller that gets the car hair off your navy suit jacket is, and all the others who make an attempt to assure you get what you want at the nation’s largest retailer. The average employee, figured across the board, will receive about $667 apiece. Some will get less and some will get more but the difference will no doubt be based on longevity and current hourly rate.

I don’t remember them getting part of the porkulus package. Maybe the top executives have been playing the lottery. Nope. I do believe they are taking it from their profits which they freely acknowledge were in a large part generated by these same employees. It is basically the same principal (without contractual arrangements) that AIG was implementing. They have some good employees and they wish to retain them. They recognize the vital role of experienced people to be the face of the company. Since the government was not involved, they retain their autonomy as well. The absolute last thing which any successful business needs is an additional layer of regulatory pressure.

It recalls a statement made by the CEO during the Katrina mess. He said to his managers; “Do the right thing.” For additional information, click here.

And Finally

It is that glorious time of year when there are more suitable days to play golf than there is time to allow for the pastime. The color of the shrubs and flowers has returned along with the redbud and the dogwood in an otherwise drab winter forest. It serves as a welcome relief from the constant flow of nastiness which comes surging out of Washington. It is also a reminder of the constancy of God’s natural world as opposed to the perpetual mess which man makes with his own hands. It is small wonder that politicians acquiesce to proposals which diminish faith since that is the way we are reminded of where we came from and where we are going without their assistance. Thank God for spring.

In His abiding love,

Cecil Moon