On the benefits of being the 99%

Today is May Day. Supposedly, the Occupy Wall Street mob planned to storm the city and shut down commerce for the day. (Sidebar: I live in Jersey now; do I need to specify that "the city" is New York City? Around here, we all know what we mean when we say "the city." But I digress.) Anyway, I think the OWS crowd was sending out its own May Day distress call by the end of the day, as the whole thing was a bit of a  a huge bust (which, quite honestly, gave me a serious case of the glees).

Coincidentally, my 14-year-old son and I started an economics unit this week, and part of today's reading included this article: a letter written in 1942 (!!) from a grandfather to his grandson. Apparently, the grandson (who was just a schoolboy at the time) heard many people disparaging the profit system, and wrote about it to his grandfather. This was the grandfather's reply. That we read this today, on this big OWS "We are the 99%! Down with the 1%" day of (failed) protest, could not have been more perfectly timed if I had tried. Believe me, I'm not that on top of things. 

The book we are using as our primary text is Whatever Happened to Penny Candy? by Richard J. Maybury. (Excellent book, by the way.) This article came from the study guide to that book, A Bluestocking Guide: Economics by Jane A. Williams. 

In the letter, the grandfather tells his grandson to imagine a primitive community of 100 people, who do nothing but work hard all day just to obtain the mere necessities of living. They live in a village at the base of a mountain; their water source is at the top. Every day, each person must climb the mountain for water, which takes them one hour. 

One day, one of the hundred notices that the water trickles down the same direction he walks. He decides to build a trench down the mountain, leading to a basin he digs out by his house. None of the other 99 people pay any attention to what he is doing. When his trench and basin are finally complete, he turns some of the water from the spring into it. Soon he has fresh water at his house. He tells the other 99 that he will let them get water from his basin if they will give him the daily production of 10 minutes of their time. They agree. So he now has 990 minutes (16.5 hours) worth of production from the others every day, and the 99 have each saved themselves 50 minutes of time every day, because they no longer have to go up and down the mountain for water.

Now that the one man has 16+ hours of production from others, he is free to spend part of his time observing things around him. He notices the water has power; it carries sticks and pushes small stones along as it travels. He contemplates this for some time, and eventually devises a water wheel to harness that power, which he uses to run a mill to grind his corn. There is enough water power to grind the corn for the other 99, also. So, again, the one offers the 99 a deal: If they will give him one-tenth of the production from their time saved, he will let them use his mill to grind their corn. Again, a win-win for both the one and the 99.

With all this production coming to him, the one is now completely free to spend all his time observing others. He realizes one of the 99 is the best shoe maker in the group; he encourages that one to spend his time making shoes for the others in exchange for a portion of their production. He sees that another one is more skilled than all the others at making clothes; again, he helps that one devise a plan to make all the clothes in exchange for portion of the others' production. Bit by bit, people begin to specialize their labors, doing what best fits them, and the whole community benefits.

But what would have happened if, at the very beginning, the 99 had turned on the one, and said, "We are ninety-nine, and you are only one. We will take what water we want and you can't stop us. We will give you nothing." What then? There would have been no incentive for this enterprising one to continue to solve problems.

And so the story continues... I encourage you to take a few minutes to read it in its entirety. The best parts are boxed in red. My favorite part? This: 

"Unless envy and jealousy and unfair laws intervened to restrict honest enterprisers who benefited all, progress promised to be constant. Need we say more to prove that there can be profit from enterprise without taking anything from others, that such enterprise adds to the ease of living for everyone?" 

Indeed, nothing more needs to be said.

On gaining new perspective

A friend shared this blog post on Facebook (no, she wasn't the author of the post; I don't personally know the woman who wrote this) and I found the sentiments expressed within ... well, relatable. I haven't been in her shoes, but I do know that desperate feeling of trying to hold it all together on the outside when everything is falling apart on the inside; when no one realizes the extent of the turmoil in my life, my heart, my soul.


On top of that, however, this blog post is a beautiful reminder that we need to be gentle with our fellow travelers, because you never know the kind of pain or sorrow hidden within a person's heart. Our first instinct should always be to extend a measure of grace. This blog post was (for me, anyway) also an eye-opening reminder that as bad as our own problems seem to us, there are many people out there with even bigger burdens to carry.


In any case, it was a blog post worth reading, so I thought I would share:


We must see past what it seems...

On being marked for life

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do. ~James 1:22-25


I have long loved inductive Bible study. I loved looking at the historical timeline to add detail to the picture: When did this event happen? What other events in the world were taking place at the time? How did those other events impact this event? How did this event change history? I loved looking at the people who were talking, or being talked about, or being spoken to. Who were they? Where had they been? Where were they going? Why were they there? What had happened to them? All these who, what, where, when, why, and how questions appealed to my inquisitive nature, the one that led me to pursue a degree in journalism. 

I loved digging deep into the Word of God, going beyond the printed word on the page; I wanted to look at the words behind the words. I loved looking up those verses in the ancient Greek or Hebrew to discern the true meaning of a passage. I would spread open before me Strong's Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible, Vine's Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Words, Zodhiates' Complete Word Study Dictionary... and, of course, my Bible. The scholar in me thrilled at the etymological hunt for the deeper, truer, more precise meaning of the words.

I had my colored pencils close at hand, and would fill my Bible with shapes and symbols and colors to highlight key words and phrases, like an artist fills a canvas with paint and images. Purples and yellows for the Trinity and Heaven. Greens for geography and time. Blues and oranges for speakers and listeners and the saints. Browns for sin and suffering. Red for Satan and Hell.  Hearts, arrows, exclamation points, squiggles, squares, circles, triangles... no word left untouched, unexamined, unexplored.

I carried this Bible to services, and furiously scribbled notes in the margin whenever the pastor made a particularly profound observation. On my own, I made lists. I watched for contrasts and comparisons. I searched for themes. I read commentaries and added these observations of others to my own.

Until one day... I stopped. Not suddenly. Not on purpose. It started with a major schedule change that prevented me from attending weekly Bible study. Then a series of events--some within my control, others beyond my control--eventually took me down a path where I no longer attended church regularly, let alone had quiet time with God on my own. And the less time I spent in the Word, the less inclined I was to want to spend time in the Word. Where once I thirsted for the knowledge within, the thought of reading God's Word now left a bitter taste in my mouth. I railed at God for abandoning me, even while I knew, in my heart, that it was I who had abandoned Him.

The realization of this was startling.

For years, I had been marking my Bible. But in all that time, had I ever really allowed God's Word to mark me?

On feeling a little flushed...

A conversation this morning:

13yo son (to Hubs, who just got home from being out of town the past few weeks): Dad, I'm so glad you're home! My toilet is clogged and I can't get it unplugged.

Hubs: When did this happen?

Son: Monday.

Hubs: What bathroom have you been using, then?

Son: Huh? What do you mean?

Hubs: Your toilet is clogged; so which toilet have you been using all this week?

Son: Oh! Mine. I've been using mine. I just can't flush it.

(-'_'-)

On effectively effecting change

I believe protests and rallies are important to the political process in our country. The freedom to assemble, to collectively voice our concerns about governmental policy, to provide a visual of a gathering storm that can't be ignored -- all this is essential for maintaining a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. This is what Tea Party rallies are all about. They are one-day affairs, and the intent is shine a spotlight on their issues and concerns; namely, a desire for the federal government to rein in spending, employ conservative fiscal policies, and reduce its size and scope, returning power back to the individual states as the Founding Fathers intended.


Most Tea Party activists recognize that they aren't going to effect any real change by camping out on the National Mall for days on end, holding up placards and shouting epithets at government employees trying to go to work. (Besides which, most Tea Party members have a job, a family, and a real life to get back to.) More importantly, however, they realize that such a strategy may garner lots of attention, but it doesn't tend to garner a lot of sympathy. Real change can only happen in the voting booth.

On my New Year resolutions... more or less

New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions.
Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.
~Mark Twain

---

I am usually quite reluctant to share my New Year resolutions, because, in the words of John Selden, it's then twice as onerous a duty to keep them. But, perhaps, a little accountability is a good thing. And so, in vague generalities and with as little detail as possible, my resolutions for 2011... more or less:

• Talk less; listen more.

• Read more; watch television less.

• Blog and write more; Facebook and Twitter less.

• Less impulsive buying; more careful budgeting.

• Less red meat; more alternative protein sources.

• More actual letter writing; less emailing and messaging.

• More exercising and daily activity; less sitting around on my butt in front of the computer.

• Less clutter; more organization.

• Less mindless game-playing on Facebook and my iPod; more time spent on piano playing, graphic design, and other creative pursuits I've abandoned along the way.

• Teach more; slack less.

• Less sugar, salt, caffeine, and fats; more raw & organic foods.

• More deliberate planning of my time; less procrastinating.

And, most importantly...

• Less of me; more of God.

On waking up in Narnia

On Christmas morning, right here in northern Alabama, we awoke to a scene straight out of Narnia:




A white Christmas! In the South! This was balm to soothe this Midwestern gal's soul. I so wanted to be home (as in, at my parents' house in Kansas) for Christmas, but it didn't work out this year. This was the consolation prize.

We enjoyed making a snowman:


Next Christmas, I might just have to use this as our Christmas card picture (if I ever get around to sending out cards, that is; don't hold your breath):



I'm just glad I managed to get this posted before the end of 2010! That makes one whole post for the year! I know, it's a lot to keep up with. Thanks to my two subscribers for hanging in there with me.