This should explain it ....

Politics for Dummies

Suppose that every day ten men go out for beer, and the bill for all ten
comes to $100. If they paid their bill the way we pay our taxes, it
would go something like this:

> The first four men (the poorest) would pay nothing.
> The fifth man would pay $1.
> The sixth man would pay $3.
> The seventh man would pay $7.
> The eighth man would pay $12.
> The ninth man would pay $18.
> The tenth man (the richest) would pay $59.
So that's what they decided to do.

The ten men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the
arrangement, until one day the owner threw them a curve. "Since you are
all such good customers," he said, "I'm going to reduce the cost of your
daily beer by $20." Drinks for the 10 of you will now cost just $80.

The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes, so
the first four men were unaffected. They would still drink for free. But
what about the other six men -- the paying customers? How could they
divide the $20 windfall so that everyone would get his 'fair share'?
They realized that $20 divided by six is $3.33. But if they subtracted
that from everybody's share, the fifth man and the sixth man would each
end up being paid to drink. The bar owner suggested that it would be
fair to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same percentage, and he
proceeded to work out the amount that each should pay.

> The fifth man, like the first four, now paid nothing (a 100% savings).
> The sixth man now paid $2 instead of $3 (a 33% savings).
> The seventh man now pay $5 instead of $7 (a 28% savings).
> The eighth man now paid $9 instead of $12 (a 25% savings).
> The ninth man now paid $14 instead of $18 (a 22% savings).
> The tenth man now paid $49 instead of $59 (a 16% savings).

This way, each of the six men is better off than before, and the first
four continue to drink for free.
But once outside the restaurant, the men began to compare their savings.
Now this is where their Democratic thinking took over!
"I only saved $1 out of the $20, "declared the sixth man as he pointed
to the tenth man and said, "but he saved $10!"
"Yeah, that's right," exclaimed the fifth man. "I only saved a dollar,
too.
It's unfair that he saved ten times more than I did!"

"That's true!" shouted the seventh man. "Why should he get $10 back when
I got only $2? The wealthy always get all the breaks!"
"Wait a minute," yelled the first four men in unison. "We didn't get
anything at all. This arrangement exploits the poor!"
So the nine men surrounded the tenth man and beat him up.
The next night the tenth man didn't show up for drinks, so the other
nine sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay
the bill, they discovered something important -- They didn't have enough
money between all of them for even half of the bill! And that, ladies
and gentlemen, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system
works.

The following is what the Democrats don't understand, and certainly
don't want you to understand either!
1. The people who pay the highest taxes should get the most benefit from
a tax reduction.

2. Tax the rich too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just
may not show up anymore. In fact, they might even start drinking
overseas where the atmosphere is friendlier. (Doesn't this sound a
little like
OUT-SOURCING?)
For those who understand, no further explanation is needed. For those
who don't understand, no further explanation is possible.

David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.
Professor of Economics
University of Georgia

My youngest son is laying on the sofa exhausted from his very very fun weekend almost in tears about going back to school tomorrow. I say I know how he feels. I don't want to go back to the Monday grind again, either.

Tonight is the superbowl and my other kids all ran out to see it somewhere else...well, at least I had them with me for 3 days...it was nice. Everyone had fun and even though there was no snow, there was man made snow on the mountains so they could ski.

I sat and ate and drank and talked just like I planned...we had a really nice time.

I wish life had more vacations.

I remember being a kid and getting stomach butterflies every Sunday night. I love being home and hate the thought of having to leave it. I am 46 years old and still get butterflies...either when I have to leave or when the kids do.

oh...well..thank goodness for family vacations.

I grew up in South Philly. THAT in itself is an entire blog, but I think by now you've gotten the point of the concentrated ethnic neighborhoods, the big pots of gravy on Sunday on every Italian grandmother's stove, the cha-chi girls who look as if they may be from Beverly Hills, the guys with the tough walk and talk but the soft hearts and stomachs. And then there is us, the different ones, the ones who refuse to go along with the majority. No, my kids cannot have a car when they turn 16. No, I will not buy them designer clothing and shoes, No, I will not send them to their First Holy Communion in a limosine, No, I will not cut the cutlets on their plates...sometimes I feel like all I do is say No.

I have to say I have great kids and I cannot take credit just as I cannot blame myself when they get into trouble. They have their own radar. They work and pay their own bills: clothes, cell phone, books. We help with tuition, guidance, good home cooked food and we try to give them attention and time and recognition. They've become independent and sometimes that makes me and my husband lonely for them. They asked us if we could all go skiing as we've done for many years with cousins, aunts, uncles, friends. We missed last year. We thought it a chance for us all to be together for 3 days and a treat for them from us would make us all feel good. I am excited about my kids being with me for the next few days. I hope we don't kill each other. They have been working every night this week since it is restaurant week here...I am waiting for them now. They are so tired and cute and wonderful.

When I was young we went up to the Pocono mountains. Sometimes we skied, sometimes, we sledded. Our friends Mickey and Chubby used to take us to Chubby's mother's cabin, Mom-Mom. It was a nice, open spaced cabin with a real fireplace and a loft that looked down into the living room. The adults would talk for hours. My aunt and uncle have a place up the mountains too...we used to go there and one time I locked the turkey in the oven and we couldn't eat for 6 hours. The turkey was delicious. Another time my cousin got sprayed by a skunk. They had a fire place too and I know that is why I love real fireplaces so much...not those electric ones. One of my mother's best traits is that she can sit and talk for hours. I recently talked about this with a friend of mine. THAT is really what is missing in our lives...chat time...not email, not cell phones, not interrupted play dates and agendas, not even girls night out...it isnt the same thing as just hours and hours of cups of coffee, maybe a cake or homemade desert or store bought danish and in the old days cigarettes. My mom and her friends used to puff away until midnight almost one day a week. They'd sit in the kitchen and talk and talk and talk. We'd go about our business of baths and homework and whatever and they never missed a beat and barely looked our way. Now we are always trying to catch up, get things done, work, get to and from places. I am hoping our weekend up the mountains will not only provide ski time for the kids but talk time for me and my sister in law, brother, husband, cousins, and kids too...this is what refuels our batteries.

My mother knows a thing or two.

She used to talk and talk and talk to my aunts, and my grandmother while we ran around getting into trouble (Not really). They'd be cooking or baking or just sitting with coffee and talking. My cousins and I would be out in the garage or garden or lawn. One of my cousins spent lots of time in the garage. He'd grab my grandmother's radio and take it apart, study it, and put it back together. He was always building something or making something. He was always smiling. I really can't remember a time when he was mad or angry. He used to wrestle in high school. He was always helping and always getting under my grandfather in the garage under the hood of the car or rewiring the toaster.

He recently had emergency surgery that has him in intensive care. Diverticulitis. He has had a lot of stress lately which I am sure aggravated his intestines. His wife was very sick. His mother was very sick. He is the one who holds it together, looks on the bright side, takes the optimistic view. He builds for a living. His construction company is mainly him and a few other guys. They are working on building a friend's house at the shore. Now, he'll be out of work for a little while. I am sure he is hurting but I know he is smiling. Because he always smiles. He always adjusts and he always puts things back together.

I've been thinking about him lately and remembering our childhoods. We had fun. I loved those days together at my aunt's house or my grandmother's. We shopped and ate and cleaned and cooked. My cousins used to wrestle each other until my aunt screamed on top of her lungs. I'd like to hear her scream like that again. My youngest aunt was always going out, or trying new eye lash curlers. She had a magnified mirror that lit up and hot rollers. I wasn't allowed to touch her make up but always did when she wasn't looking. My mom and aunt used to make hundreds and hundreds of Christmas cookies and we used to steal them and they'd scream some more. My other cousin used to each a whole loaf of white bread..just peel off the plastic bag, mash it together and stuff it in his mouth..he is always trying to shock us into laughter. He's a little crazy.

Crazy or not, it doesn't matter. It doesn't have to be politically correct or fancy. It doesn't have to anything particular. From South Philly to South Jersey to the Poconos...talking and just being together really keeps us alive.

My favorite nights are when all my kids are home for dinner..and we talk and make fun of each other and eat and when they linger a bit I just want to cry...it's just wonderful.

I am off tomorrow...yeahhhh! And I am doing nothing but talking! My mom will be proud.

She and my dad are dog sitting Olive..we gave her a bath with lavendar shampoo so she'd be soft and cozy and sweet smelling for them.

Three things in life that, once gone, never come back

1. Time
2. Words
3. Opportunity

Three things in life that can destroy a person

1. Anger
2. Pride
3. Unforgiveness

Three things in life that you should never lose

1. Hope
2. Peace
3. Honesty

Three things in life that are most valuable

1. Love
2. Family
3. Kindness

Three things in life that are never certain

1. Fortune
2. Success
3. Dreams

Three things that make a person

1. Commitment
2. Sincerity
3. Hard work

Three things that are truly constant -

Father - Son - Holy Spirit

I recently read a study about a person's diminished sense of smell and that being a clue to the onset of dementia or Alzheimer's disease.

Today, I was visiting a patient I've known for about 3 weeks. He is a skinny black man with missing lower limbs due to frost bite. I never got into the reason why how he got to be frost bitten. We usually go over his plan of care, his problems and the things I can do to help ease his burdens. I am seeing him because he had a stroke and lost the site in his left eye and became weaker. The amputated lower extremities was something that happened a couple of years ago. Today we talked about asking his doctor for a pill for depression. I think it would help lift his spirits.

Hanging on the wall next to his perfectly made hospital bed are hand drawn pictures of the beach, of gardens, of birds and fields of grass or wheat. The pictures are colored with pencils or painted with water colors. They hang in pairs. I admired the drawings. One eye opened wide and a broad smile appeared for the first time on his face. Mr. D drew those pictures after his amputation surgery while he was in the rehabilitation center. "You really are very talented", I said. He shook his head. I wondered if he could still draw. "Nooooooo", he said to me when I asked. On my next visit one of the pictures was torn off the wall. Mr. D's son say he tore it off. He didn't say anything, he just tore it up. His son put another pair of pictures up across the room. I thought they were beautiful.

"He isn't eating much, and he doesn't want to get out of bed, but he sure does talk and still gets mad and bosses everyone around", his son said smiling. "I guess that is a good thing", I said. "He has all his senses I suppose", I said. "Oh yes he does", said his son.

Mr. D was trying to look at me when I was talking to him. His head swayed all around trying to get his R eye, the good one, in the correct spot to focus. We tested his eyesight by holding up fingers and asking him to tell us the amount of fingers we held up. He took his time, strained to see, counted out loud and got it right every time. It was evident he didn't have enough sight to see well enough to draw his pictures. "I think he lost interest" his son said.

After taking his blood pressure, he lifted his small head as his bony hands pulled me toward him. He took a deep breath. "You smell so good", he said to me. I thanked him as he set his head back on his pillow, closed his eyes and smiled.

I guess dementia isn't something he has to worry about. And I'll be sure to wear this same perfume every time I visit Mr. D.

Small pleasures can fill a whole day.