The Wonderful Land of August

by G. E. Shuman

Dear Readers: This column will make more sense if you read it after August 1^st. Feel free to read it now, if it's not August yet, but read it again then. (That way I get to visit with you twice.)

     Well, fellow travelers, here we are again. For any who are unaware, we have all just arrived in the wonderful land of August. If you're reading this, which you must be, you have been to this beautiful place of sun and fun many times before. (That is, unless you are a child prodigy, the likes of which the world has never seen, and you are reading this on your first birthday or something.) Discounting that improbability, it is a good bet that you have been to this place in the year at least several dozens of times. My writing attracts few tweens and teens.

     In my particular case, I'm making this visit to August for the sixty-first time. I'm sixty years old, (barely) as I was born in July, so, yeah, that makes sixty-one Augusts, I think. (By the way, I figured that out all by my lonesome, without consulting Google or face book or twitter or anyone else.) Sadly, it's hard to imagine that someone with such boyish youth and good looks as myself could possibly have taken the magnificent voyage around the sun, (an event which we have chosen to represent the 'years' of our lives,) over sixty times already, but I'm afraid that it is true. My vehicle and yours is both the earth herself, and time, the combination of which never stops, or even slows, and ultimately proves, relentlessly and without exception, to be deadly. And we all seem to be its semi-reluctant passengers. But... 'Stop the world, I want to get off?' No. I don't think so, and neither do you, really.

     In my youth, August meant to me what it likely still means to kids today. It meant days at the lake, being with friends, bike riding, lawn mowing, beach-walking, car washing, fishing, cookouts, sunbathing, strawberries, watermelon, the smell of cocoanut oil, the taste of corn on the cob, Popsicles, and most importantly, the fact that school summer vacation was not yet over. As an oldish, school-teaching, textbook toting visitor to August for the sixty-first time, it means days at the lake, being with friends, bike riding, lawn mowing, beach-walking, car washing, fishing, cookouts, sunbathing, strawberries, watermelon, the smell of cocoanut oil, the taste of corn on the cob, Popsicles, and most importantly, the fact that school summer vacation is not yet over. Oh, so much has changed.

     The reality is that August, truly, is a wonderful place to spend a month, and we all seem to stay here for exactly that long, every time we visit. Isn't that strange? I love how long and sunny these days are; how green and alive everything is. The more Augusts I experience, I think, the more I appreciate those things. Every summer, every August, I pray that I will see the next one. No, I really do. The 'green and alive' part of it all is a big reason for my love for this month, as you could probably already tell. 'Alive' is what we are supposed to be, and being surrounded by life is just wonderful. Maybe we're not supposed to be green, but you get the idea. The warm nights in the land of August are wonderful too. My wife works evenings, and it's so neat that even at midnight the two of us can enjoy a mild summer breeze together, talking and rocking on the front porch swing. (Yes, we really do have a front porch, and we really do have a front porch swing. This time of year we use them both, all the time.) If that sounds corny and dated to you, then you need to adjust your 'corny and dated' meter.

     That front porch swing is also useful in a very informal game my wife and I tend to begin playing, at about this time each year. The game has no name, but it involves being the first to spot a bright red leaf peeking out from the green depths, high in the very large and elderly maple tree on our front lawn. When that happens, we both know that our visit to August has ended, in more ways than can be shown on a calendar. The month is always quickly overtaken by those of fall; that one red leaf is soon swallowed up in a sea of scarlet and bronze. Then cooler evenings come, bringing smokey scents from neighborhood wood stoves, and fewer visits to the front porch swing.

     I hope you enjoy your thirty-one day visit to the land of August as much as I will. I'll see you later. In fact, lets make a date of it. I'll meet you back here, I promise, at this very spot, exactly 365 days from now.

A Wonderful Diversity

by G. E. Shuman

     Our family is a very diverse one. I suppose, these days, with all the traveling people do, and with our society's total absorption into social media, and because of other factors I don't even realize are happening, most families are more diverse than they might have been years ago. “We are,” in many respects, not only “what we eat,” as they used to say, but also what we experience, and who we experience, these days more than ever before.

     

     Our family's diversity is a wonderful one, and I feel totally blessed by the various backgrounds, views, and heritages of the people in my life. Our family shares one faith, in the one true God, and in His Son, but even in some points that relate to that faith I and some of my own children differ.

    

     Another diversity that makes our family what it is, is our ethnic diversity, which is probably what you thought I wanted to talk about today. If you did think that, you would be right, at least partially. We are blessed, through marriages and adoptions, with a wonderful 'blend,' if you will, of many of the talents and beauty of the diverse people of our world. Lorna and I have biological children who look somewhat like us, adopted children who do not, grandchildren of mixed race and others who are not who look somewhat like their own parents, and two grand kids who are of Chinese heritage. Our family is truly blessed, with, and because of, all of these wonderful and diverse people.

     

     One reason you would only be partially right if you thought I wanted to talk about ethnic diversity today, is because my main reason for beginning this column is because of two deeper subjects, in my view. Those are the subjects of love, and of adoption. And here is where things get a bit mystical, misty-eyed, and wondrous for me. Firstly, I need to say that if you and your spouse both want to adopt a child, and can do it, I have a very short piece of experience-born advice, which is this: If you want to adopt, if you need to adopt, if you yearn to adopt... do it. Period. Don't wait for the perfect time, or the perfect home, or the perfect financial situation, because none of those will ever come. I have made many mistakes in my lifetime, but adopting children, twice, was not among those mistakes. I remember the night, over twenty years ago, as my wife and I lay in bed, talking about the baby boy whom we had never met, but who would soon join our family, thinking and saying to Lorna, “It's so strange. I love that baby, already.” Lorna's reply was that she, of course, did too. And that love for him and for the then not even conceived infant girl who would, two years later, also be adopted and become his sister, has only grown, every single day since that night. How amazing is that?

     

     About a week ago, on a beautiful, sunny, Sunday afternoon, our family and our friends gathered for a surprise 'adoption shower' for our daughter, Chrissy, her husband Adam, and their kids, in celebration and anticipation of the soon arrival of our newest grandchild. Actually, as you read this paper, you can be a part of that celebration if you would say a prayer for them, or think of them. Right now, the week of this publication, they will be on their way to China, to meet that precious child for the very first time. It is true that she will not arrive into our family in what once was the 'usual' way, but will join us, forever, when she arrives in our country. She will add much to the beauty and diversity of our ever-growing family, and we are very excited to meet her! Just as parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents love a child even before birth, you guessed it, we all love Zoe, already.

Things That I Believe

By G.E. Shuman

Dear Readers:

This column is a slightly updated version of one used in the paper several years ago. When I repeat a column I like to make that fact known, so that no one thinks I'm 'cheating', even if I am. I feel that, in this Independence Week, it is good to reflect on a few things that might be worth believing. I hope you agree.

Several days ago I began thinking about some of the big things and not so big things that I believe. Then I started writing those big and little things down. I’m not sure why or if anyone would be interested in reading this partial list of what I believe, but here it is anyway. (Most of the thoughts are mine, but one or two were picked from whatever part of my brain stores ideas stolen from others.) If some of these beliefs sound abrupt, it’s because I’m getting cranky in my old age. I do not mean to offend. Consider the source, and consider yourself warned.

I believe that technology is good, but that following it blindly into the future may not be so good.

I believe that all men, women, and born and not-yet-born children, are created equal. I also believe that, to believe this, you must first believe that they are created.

I believe that if your teenager is asking for a fight, you should not disappoint him.

I believe that intolerance of everything is wrong.

I believe that tolerance of everything is wrong.

I believe both in parachutes and seat belts. It’s just that more people are killed by not using seat belts.

I believe that “gratitude is the best therapy.” (My favorite bumper sticker.)

I believe that "you are a long time dead." (My favorite Yiddish saying.)

I believe that men should remove their hats when entering a building. This includes baseball caps. This also includes my disbelief that this one has to be mentioned.

I believe that everyone should honor their father and their mother.

I believe that corporal punishment should be permitted in schools, and administered liberally to deserving students and their parents.

I believe that Metamucil* works, and that I still will never buy it. (*The word Viagra may be substituted for the word Metamucil here.)

I believe in the resurrection of the dead, and not just when the work day is over.

I believe in my wife, my children, my grandchildren, and even my sons in law.

I believe that Hitler would have loved the idea of abortion in the U.S.

I believe it is possible for schools to become so attuned to the social needs of students that they lose all hope of actually educating them.

I believe in the hereafter, but that it is here, and after.

I believe that twelve brave men walked on the moon. I believe that twelve braver men walked with Jesus.

I believe that you become a political conservative when you mature, and that you don’t, if you don’t.

I believe that there is no place like home. (I really do.)

I believe that God allows U-turns. (And I’m glad He does.)

I believe in hot coffee in the morning.

I believe that all living things are organic. What else could they be?

I believe that you should eat and drink what you like, that other people should do the same, and that everyone should mind his own business.

I believe that Charlize Theron is the world’s best movie actress, regardless of her acting ability.

I believe that these are the good old days.

I believe that less is very often more.

I believe that God answers prayer.

I believe that adoption is a great way of guaranteeing that you get good looking children.

I believe that we are all faced with a series of great opportunities, brilliantly disguised as impossible situations. (My Dad taught me that one.)

I believe that life may exist on other planets, but that even if it doesn’t, we are far from being alone in the universe.

I believe in miracles.

I believe in Cinnabons with the hot coffee in the morning.

I believe that forgiveness is easier to get than is permission.

I believe in using the television’s ‘off’ button, frequently.

I believe in equality of the sexes, except that women are much better looking.

I believe that we are to be good stewards of our planet, but that mankind thinks too highly of himself if he thinks he can destroy it.

I believe that humans should never cause the extinction of an animal, but that we deserve to be here, too.

I believe in the Golden Rule. I also believe that if you don’t know what that is, you are probably a young person living in the U.S.

I believe in second chances, and third chances and fourth chances, just like God does.

I believe that each species of animal has its own special place in the world. I still view chickens as the dumbest animal God ever created, and believe that their place is right next to the mashed potatoes.

I believe in freedom of speech, and that displaying a crucifix in a bottle of urine is not speech.  If it is speech... what is it saying?

I believe that dogs, cats and other domesticated animals are pets, and that pets are purchased, and children are adopted. My family owns two dogs. I am not their daddy, and my wife is not their mom. I have eleven grandchildren. You may be able to have grand dogs.  I cannot, and would not.

I believe that there is a plan for each of our lives, and that we are perfectly free to ignore that plan, completely.

I believe that a person can be forgiven for any offense, but still may face the consequences of that offense.

I believe that living with teenagers is likely the reason gerbils eat their young.

I believe that Americans should honor and respect the flag of our great country. If any feel the need to burn or otherwise desecrate it just because this is a free county and they can, I believe they should try doing it in downtown Beijing with the Chinese flag, and soon.

I believe in the right to bear arms. In the event that our government ever became oversized, overbearing, overtaxing, and morally impotent, our forefathers saw the value in a combination of testosterone and gunpowder.

I believe it is a parent’s responsibility, not the government’s, nor the school’s, to “train up a child in the way he should go.” This is one reason becoming a parent when you are still a child has never been a very good idea.

I believe that abortion kills a human baby every time it is performed.

I believe that abstinence works every time it is tried.

I believe that there’s always room for Jell-O, but I still won’t eat it.

I believe that marriage was intended as a lifelong union between one man and one woman. It is my opinion that any other arrangement shows a misunderstanding of morality, anatomy, or both.

I believe that everything that is was created by a loving, all powerful, all knowing God in six short, actual, twenty-four-hour days, about six thousand years ago. Yes, I really do. I lack the necessary faith to believe that hundreds of millions of years ago this all fell together by pure accident, especially when I look at my eleven grandchildren.