The Word "Adoption"

By G. E. Shuman

So, I’m probably going to get into trouble with this one. Please understand. This column is where I get to blab my opinions on issues, and, as time goes on, I am becoming more and more in the minority with those opinions, and therefore more and more likely to offend someone. It’s simple math. There are few of us dinosaurs around anymore. If I upset you, I ask you in advance to please forgive me. Anyway, here goes.

As the adoptive dad of two, and the adoptive granddad of one, I try, with no apparent success at all, to be less than irritated when the word ‘adoption’ is thrown about willy-nilly, helter-skelter, and used to describe other actions than that of bringing a child into your family, to legally become a part of your family. A supreme example of this irritation happened recently, as a teen I know joyfully related the story of how a litter of kittens she knew of had been spared, as some of them had been ‘adopted’, and some placed into ‘foster care’. What? I’m sorry. She meant well, of course, and I said nothing, even though that conversation made me more sure than ever that I must be a relic in this society. Adopted? Placed into foster care? Kittens? Really? What in the world is going on here?

I realize that, literally, you could adopt the habit of taking literal litters of puppies or kittens into your home. And, literally, it is not incorrect English to adopt things other than people. A country can adopt a new constitution, an organization can adopt new bylaws, and companies can adopt new methods of doing business, among the probable hundreds of other uses of the word adoption. To all such countries, organizations and businesses, I have to say, I see how you mean to use the word. You are simply taking on new rules or laws. You are not referring to those rules or laws as becoming a part of your family.

When people tell me that they have adopted a new puppy or kitten , I try to not look at them funny. I said, I try. There just is, or if there isn’t there should be, a rule of English grammar and vocabulary against using the word ‘adopt’ when referring to the action of taking into your home any creature other than a human being. My family has always had pets, but, to me, pets are pets, and are purchased. Just ask the guy at the pet store why he wants your credit card. I’m sure that farm animals are also purchased, (I think that there are few pig adoption agencies around the country, but, these days, I‘m not certain.) So, if this is so, where do you find the difference between piglets and puglets? Why are pigs bought, and pugs adopted? Especially since they look so much alike? To me, all animals are purchased, even in our animal-rights, circle-of-life, doggie-daycare land. Sorry. Actually, nope… not really sorry, any more than your local dairy farmer is sorry that he doesn‘t adopt his heifers. Side note: He also probably doesn’t speak baby talk to them.

People are not purchased. If they are, then we have much bigger problems than animal adoption. People, (children) are adopted, and that brings me to another point which is probably related to all of this. To me, a dog or cat is not a member of my family. They may live in my home, (Unless they are a cat, then they can‘t.) but I will never split my children’s massive inheritance with one of them. We diehard dinosaurs still think that dogs should sleep in dog beds, eat dog food, and pee outside. I do not ask my children to do any of those things. If my children have ever peed outside it is not because I trained them to do so. My pets are not my children… my children are my children. Seems like a simple concept to me. Last Christmas I actually saw one large pet supply company that took Christmas pictures of ‘pets and their parents’. Their parents? Sorry again, but, for me, that was way over the top, although I do actually see some family resemblances in some of those situations. Hum. The truth is, our dog’s parents were not human beings at all, they were Pekingese dogs who were not married, and probably were not even in love. (I think they were just after sex.)

As I have said, in all of this, I don’t mean to be mean, and harbor no hatred in my heart for our four-legged friends. I just think they have their place, and that place is way down the ladder from my children. Wayyyyy down.

For you who think I am heartless, consider that there are signs in our area, requesting that people ‘adopt’ a fire hydrant. I do understand the idea, but I’m not speaking baby talk to one of those, either. Couldn’t we just come up with some other, caring, wonderful word, and save “adoption” for our kids?

Hey, are we still friends?

Our Graduates

Our Graduates
By G. E. Shuman
  Please forgive me for the following blatant, boastful, family bragging session, which I’m not really sorry for, and which goes something like this:
               A short dictionary definition of the word ‘graduation’: “ A mark on an instrument or vessel, indicating degrees or quantity; also, the award or acceptance of an academic degree or diploma.  As I look at this picture of two of my favorite graduates of 2012, it seems almost comical to me that both of the definitions seem to apply to them.  We measure the size of a person, typically, not quite in degrees, but in feet and inches.  The two kids in this picture seem about as opposite as they could be in that area.  Our granddaughter, Sofi, is just as tiny as our 6’8” son Andrew is tall.   But, be advised,  they only seem to be opposites; she, with her petite frame and the straight, dark hair of her heritage.  And he, with his giant stance, dark skin and head of curly hair.
               The truth is, those two young graduates have much in common.  Firstly, they are both graduating, this very month, from the same school; Websterville Baptist Christian.  (By the way, it is a school which I highly recommend.)  Andrew will graduate from high school, and Sofi from kindergarten.  They are also both children who have been adopted into our amazing extended family; Andrew from Florida, and Sofi from China.  They are both loved by their parents and siblings more than words can say, and love each other exactly that amount, also.   And, they are both born-again Christian young people, and as such have both been adopted into God’s family, too.   See, I told you they had a lot in common. They are also both very powerful people, Andrew in his size and athleticism, and Sofi in her personality and determination.   At times, I’m not sure which of these two wonderful young people is the strongest.   Sofi is quite accomplished at getting her way with ‘the big guy’, when she needs to.  They, also, are quite inseparable.  The love they share puts the total foolishness of racism squarely in its place.   I think that is wonderful.
               Our photographer-daughter, Emily, took the picture of these two students, at their school.  She later posted the pic on face book, with the note: “They do everything together.  They even graduate together.”   To me, it just doesn’t get any better than that.  Congratulations Sofi and Andrew!
           

Popeye For President!

By G. E. Shuman

“I’ve had all I can stanz, and I can’t stanz no more!”  These famous words of one of my most beloved childhood cartoon characters, Popeye, still ring in my ears as I ponder the morals and madness of today.  If you are of my generation, you know the story well.  Popeye would say those words at the height of his ultimate dilemma in the cartoon, and, somehow, would work up the strength to open that old can of spinach, which would immediately provide the super power he needed to save the day.   My question is, where is Popeye when you need him now?
I’m not depressed or too distressed, and don’t intend to depress or distress you.  I am just fully aware that we are in the middle of a huge mess in our country, and are topping the mess off with the slung-mud of the grandest display of fibbing and finger-pointing possible, known as a U.S. presidential political season.  How fortunate we are.  We not only get to vote for a new or used president this year, but we also get to spend a day’s pay for the gas it takes to drive to the polls.  Depending on your pay, and your distance from downtown, that may be less of an exaggeration than it at first seems.  Still, it all might be worth it, if there was the slightest reason to believe what your, or my particular flavor of politician tells you, or me.  It is probably true that politicians have always been habitual liars, and skin-wasting windbags.  It’s just that, these days, they seem to be willing to say anything at all to get our vote.  Sitting presidents try desperately to defend indefensible records.  Primary candidates sling mud onto each other until one is chosen.   Then they immediately unite behind that exact person they were calling insincere and unworthy only yesterday.  It just proves that there is no longer honor among thieves.  Right now our country is in dire need of better treatment than that.

I do miss the old cartoons, with characters like Popeye.  Somehow, they really did embody the spirit of the America of their time.  It was an America that, I hope, can be revived in our time.  Those cartoon characters all had mottos, and they were all ‘American’ mottos.  Today’s Sponge Bob, Family Guy and others are hollow, shallow, flawed and foolish failures next to them.  Remember Yosemite Sam?  I recall a cartoon when he was riding, instead of a horse, a camel, across the plains.  He said: “Whoa camel!”  But the camel kept loping along.  Then he said: “Ah said WHOA Camel!”  And the camel still kept loping along.  In the next scene Yosemite was running along in front of that camel, and bellowing: “When ah sez whoa, ah means WHOA!”  With this he whacked the camel over the head with the butt of his rifle, and the camel definitely ‘whoa’d.   His next line was his famous motto:  “Ah sez what ah means, and ah MEANS what ah zez!”  We need a president with the guts to say Whoa, and to whack a few ’camels’ (translated: overspending bureaucrats.) on the head if they don‘t obey.  Thank you, Yosemite.
I could go on and on, reciting the mottos of the characters of my childhood.  Mighty Mouse, Under Dog, and many others instilled American values into the children of my day.  Just google them, and you’ll see what I mean.  Any one of those fictional entities would make a better presidential candidate than some people running today.  

The ultimate super-SUPER hero, to me, was Superman, himself.  His motto should be the war cry of us all.  He fought for things that even, in my opinion, our present president shuns:  “Truth, Justice, and the AMERICAN Way!”  Like all of the cartoon characters of my youth, and unlike our present-day leaders, there was no doubt at all where he stood.  He stood for right, and for truth, and for the things that defined America.  His word, like that of Popeye and Yosemite Sam, was his bond.  The Bible says: “Let your yea be yea; and your nay, nay;” James 5:12.  Our politicians could learn a lot from the Bible, (Talk about an understatement.) and even from Popeye, who simply said: “I am what I am and that’s all what I am.  I’m Popeye the Sailor Man.  Toot! Toot!  (Those were the days!)