If Orrin Hatch’s words were true in 1976, then they are still true in 2012

If you’ve felt buried by political ads now, what’s coming will be worse, but it’s also when we should seriously look at the records of those who seek to be our national voice.

I’m no puritan, but it actually does get down to who is telling the truth and who is not telling the truth.  The two are not copasetic, and truth, you remember, never changes.  Now Romney and his many words are beyond me, too full of ‘what I really meant to say’ and ‘you read me wrong’ but we have absolute records of what Orrin Hatch said as he sought his first Senate Seat, and what he’s saying today.

There is a difference, and if his words were true when he spoke them against his opponent, Frank E. Moss, then those same words must be true today.   I go  back.

Frank E. Moss, his opponent in 1976, was born Jan. 29, 1903, grew up in Holladay, the son of James E. Moss, an educator who was named ‘The father of Utah High school athletics’.  Frank grew up in a home filled with words and actions of law and education.

He graduated magna cum laude (UofU, 1933), and then served FDR at the NRA (National Recovery Administration), and other national federal groups to aid in National Recovery from the Great Depression, and then during WW2, (1942 to ’45), served  with the Army Air Corps in the Judge Advocates General Dept. in European Theatre of Operations.

Not a bad intro to his political life, both local and federal, and in 1958 was elected as Utah Senator against both Arthur Watkins and J. Bracken Lee, each mighty forces in Utah politics.

As Utah’s Senator in Washington, he added more National Parks within Utah; investigated and aided in eliminating  control of abuses to the elderly in Nursing and Retirement homes; Physicians’ abuses of the Medicaid program; and with Senator Church of Idaho sponsored first legislation to provide Federal funds for hospice programs.  That Bill did not pass Congress until 1982, but his ideas held and were included in Medicare benefits.

In his Third Term he sponsored detailed Warning Labels on cigarette packages; banned their advertisements on radio and TV; the Toy Safety Act; and was Chairman of the Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences.

He was a hero to people of small towns and rural areas, for, in the beginning, and at first, television station signals were available only (if you can imagine) where there were major marketing areas, namely the highly populated places, with great consumer possibilities. Moss was instrumental in getting funding to make it possible for all small towns and rural areas with ‘few’ consumers, to receive the same TV transmissions.  He and his group helped found the great TV Translator system that provided television to the great rural areas of America.  It was a major battle in Washington, but he won it.
 
It was on his run for his Fourth Term in 1976 that Orrin Hatch opposed him, and Hatch’s strong points were how much Moss had accomplished, how much we owed him, but that he now was too old.  His mind no longer sharp and should be replaced, with thanks, by a younger man.  Himself.

Hatch won.  Now, as Orrin wishes to fill his fourth term, he does not mention age, born Mar. 22. 1934, so is 78 years of age, and 3 years older than Moss was at the same point in his career.  He refuses all requests for live TV debates, and dodges photos and off-the-cuff meetings with local or national press. Rumors in the gossip magazines (they’re not always wrong) tell that Hatch, Botox, and Senility have developed a close relationship.

He should recall his own words, spoken when he fought Moss, and admit that he is 3 years older than Moss then was.  An age he blatantly called too old to be a Senator.  Hatch no doubt also remembers what the live TV debate did to Nixon when he faced the nation against the young John Kennedy.  As they say, ‘he shot  himself in his own foot’.

If  Moss, dedicated and astute, but then 73 years old, was too old, then we’d better remember that Orrin is now 78, and for us to do exactly what he, Hatch, said then.  What do you call a Senator who’s served in office for 18 years? You call him home.”.  Yes, let’s give Orrin thanks for what he has accomplished, and then, (again his words), replace him with a man who is ‘younger, mind quicker, sharper and more in tune with this era of time”.

Orrin Hatch’s words were either true then, or true now.  He can’t have it both ways. One or the other is untrue.

If any of this rings true with you, please pass this along to others you know.

The mountains and the valleys of joy . . .

Thank heavens for the little joys of life.  Yes, we all have epiphanies when our world suddenly turns up-side down, but those moments are few and far between. And you say yours come often?  Come on, don’t kid me, for most of our lives are spent on ground level and life would be dull if it weren’t for the bright moments that I call God’s Little Extras. 

Little joys, coming often and lifting us over many a weary time.

It’s awesome that we have our Peaks but we shouldn’t underestimate the small joys that are mole-hills compared to the Mountains, but just the same, fill us with joy.  How about the unexpected shared laughter with some stranger, along with the unplanned meeting of your eyes, and for that moment, you are not strangers?  A letter from a dear one.  Crisp clean curtains framing shiny clean windows.   New fallen snow untouched by foot step, shovel, or plow. A smiling child running to you with open arms.

Oh, begin recalling your own, but I go on.  Seeing trees you planted, now stately, tall, and sheltering your home as you long ago dreamed they would.  And for the moment you’re one again with the loved one who helped you plant them.

Watching the moon cast its silver spell over a familiar landscape and recalling watching the same magic with a loved one who is no longer with you.  But the two of you saw that magic, while standing right in the very same spot where you stand. Tears come, but so does joy.

Sitting at the dinner table and suddenly really seeing each one and realizing how blessed a moment it is. A commonplace rite, but something to savor and treasure when they’re older with their own lives, and then bring their precious wives or husbands  with them, and added joy, the beloved grandchildren who follow.  All at your table, and the  decades of changes pass before you like a TV show, and you feel that loved ones who have died, are also with you again.

Life’s Little Extras.  Casually staying at the table long after the food is gone, listening to good talk tossed back and forth, and you see deeper into their lives than a million questions would reveal.  They open a door to their lives, and you know it’s a favor given, not a right to demand.  God’s Little Extra?  Yes, and to be remembered forever.

The joy, when, after short friendly chat with a stranger at the local coffee shop while waiting for your de-caf to get made, and when you get to the Pay Counter, find that he also paid for yours.

There are times when the world is dark and you think happiness will never again be yours.  But then, one day your eyes are opened and for the moment really see that the sun still rises and sets, and you, no longer ‘blinded’ by routine, as we sometimes are, again  really see it.  God’s Little Extras that pull us over the deep chasms that illness, distance, death, or divorce can bring to our lives.

You see that children still run to you.  That shared laughter is still precious, and letters, email and calls from loved ones still arrive and bring an inner rush of joy.  And you’re surprised to see that, as you age, new friends, new relationships, new ideas, new hobbies come, and each bring new joy to you. 

Thought God had forgotten you?  Well, don’t try to tell me such nonsense, for just as the Mountain Peaks are God’s Gifts, so are His Little Extras that shower us, but so often don’t even look for much less, really see.

For me, keeping my eyes and heart open for those Extras, makes such a difference.  Remembering that as we change, our Mountains also change, and just as we ‘know’ there are no more high Peaks for us, we glance up and there, dropping right into our lap, eyes and heart, we shiver as we experience another Mountain.  And large or small, they are all God’s gifts.  Just for me, and for you.

     Don’t Know What It is, But It Sure Works

        ESP is so commonplace that we don’t blink an eye about it, that is, until it happens to us. No one knows exactly what it means, except we all have those otherwise unexplainable happenings.
        We know it’s Extra Sensory Perception, the Sixth Sense, but it’s different from the other five, Taste, Hearing, Smell, Touch, Sight, and no explanation is needed.  But ESP?  Well, it’s been called Gut Instinct, Third Eye, Hunch, Telepathy, Clairvoyance, Precognition and ad infinitum, but that still doesn’t tell us what it is.
        However, when it hits, we need no explaining.  One time I answered my phone and it was Margaret, who lived in Seattle.  Our acquaintance was so casual that, though we talked for four or five  minutes I wondered why she’d called, but as she was getting ready to say goodbye, she asked if I knew where Florence could be reached.
        “No,” I answered, “I haven’t seen or heard from her for over a year.”  And she said, “Well, take down my phone number and address and if you happen to see her, tell her to give me a call.”
        Now, hearing from Florence was so unlikely that I almost didn’t write down the information, but I carelessly scribbled  it, while at the same time thinking the paper would be garbaged by the next day.
        However, before I even moved from the phone, it rang again, and I silently debated whether or not to answer it, but I did.
        Yes, and you have already guessed that, of all people, it was Florence.  She, too, had no real reason to call me, and it amazed us both when I told her what had just happened and she said, “Yes, I do need to talk to Margaret and had no idea how to do it, but, really, Ethel, I wasn’t thinking of her when I called you.”
        In a daze I sat there and felt as if I had been used by someone or something.  That I had been nothing but a Tool.  Because, with no conscious thought or even desire on my part, I had been the connecting link between two people who needed to reach each other and didn’t know how.  It has remains one of those things that puzzle me to  this day.
        Another ESP ‘thing’ that comes to me occasionally is one I’m ambivalent about, for I certainly didn’t ask for it.  It is the ‘knowing’ when someone is going to die.  It doesn’t happen all the time, and sometimes when someone close to me unexpectedly dies, I wonder why hadn’t I been ‘told’, but usually it’s just a casual acquaintance, and not a close friend. Don’t ask me why, but, just the same, it happens.
        I just ‘know’,  and over and over have been right.  I don’t speak of it for it isn’t what you’d call desired information.  But one does need to talk to someone about those oddities of the mind, and La Ree Pierson (remember her?) was a godsend to me, for she too, sensed uncanny things, and neither of us considered the other ‘funny’.
        ESP is hard to prove, that is, if it needs proving.  It isn’t scientific, but far, far more than that, and don’t ask me to tell you ‘how’, because I can’t.  I only know that it is.
        The stomach can be laid out, measured and proven.  The brain, too, can be weighed for size, heft and dissected, as can the heart, lungs, kidneys and on and on.  But the Mind?  It uses the Brain, but it is not the brain.  So vital to each moment of our day, and so vital that, no matter how good a body, or how much money one has, without the Mind we are just a body, nothing more. 
        Traveling the inward pathway to the Mind is the longest journey we’ll ever take, and who is to say what the ultimate goal will be when we get there, or where that ‘where’ will be.
        ESP?  You have it, I have it.  It uses me and it uses you and if you ever find out what ‘it’ is, tell me.  But in the meantime and whatever it is, isn’t it great?????

Socrates, Zen, Sufi, or Just Plain Ham . . .

Ham Radio Operators are members of a unique group.  Whether they operate by Morse Code (no longer a requirement), phone, or digital, they share an almost mystical companionship, and it doesn’t matter if they live just around the corner or in Timbuktu, the relationships hold.

AW (my husband) was a Ham and for several years after his sudden death I received QSL cards from around the world as other Hams heard of his death and wanted to tell me they cared.  Nice people.

It pleases me that one of my sons, WR, is also a Ham. It is a little known hobby, but before the Internet, when a large disaster occurred, it was the Hams who provided news and lifelines.

Usually they just gab back and forth, chinning away, but odd bits of stuff are often sent over the air waves. Today’s words come from, Mike of New Mexico.  My son, K7EA shared them with me, and because I like them I pass them  along to you.

RULES FOR BEING A HUMAN BEING

1. You will receive a body.  You may or may not like that body, but it will be yours for the entire period of this time round.

2. You  will learn lessons.  You are automatically enrolled in a full-time school called Life, and have the opportunity to learn those daily lessons.  You may like them or think them irrelevant and stupid  It doesn’t matter, they’re yours.

3.There are no mistakes or accidents.  Only lessons.  Growth is a process of trial, error and experience. The ‘failed’ experiments are as much a part of the process as the one that ‘work’.

4. A lesson is repeated over and over until it’s learned.  It will be presented in many forms until you have learned it, and only when you have learned it, will the next lesson arrive.

5. Learning never ends. There is no part of life that does not contain its lessons, and if you’re alive, there are still lessons you need to learn.

6. ‘There’ and ‘When’ are no better than ‘Here’ and ‘Now’.  When your ‘there’ has become ‘here’, and your ‘when; is ‘now’, you will simply obtain another ‘there’ and ‘when’ which will, again look better than ‘here’ and ‘now’.

7. Other people in your life are merely mirrors of you.  You cannot love or hate something about another unless it reflects something you either love or hate within yourself.

8. What you make of your life is up to you.  You have all the tools and resources you need, however what you do with them is your choice, and no person or circumstance can change that.

9. All your answers lie right inside you.  Yes, the solutions to all life, are inside you, and all you need do is look, listen and trust.

10. You will forget all this.  No matter how often you read this, no matter how deeply you believe it, or how often you promise yourself to never forget even one part of it, within one minute, you will.  Oh, yes, you will.  But then you will remember again.

This page was signed Anonymous, but it has all the wisdom of Socrates, or some Zen or Sufi teacher.  I love it all, but even if only one small part speaks to you, love that part.  For actually, it’s wisdom of the ages, presented in words for our time.  Hope The Teacher gives you an A in every one of the lessons. I still struggle.

You mean today?  Yesterday? Tomorrow?  Forever?

Sometimes I’m  asked, “Who are you?” and I’m tempted to reply that I’m lots of Ethels, and which one do you mean?

The name Ethel Bradford, only means I belong to a family of Bradfords and was ‘labeled’ Ethel, so people could tell me apart from others.  And that Ethel has been daughter, wife, lover, mother, grandmother to three and now I’m twice a great grandmother. 

But you know, as I do, that all those ‘names’ are actually only labels, tags you might say, explaining what role I played or play in someone else’s life, and not who I am.

None of them relates to the Ethel who responds, or hangs up, on those who try to beguile or fill me with fear in order to get me to vote for who is paying them to make such calls.

And still different from that Ethel who patiently tries to explain to another phone-voice, that I never buy or give money to anyone who comes begging by phone.  And you wouldn’t want to know that Ethel who was once told, (in today’s explicit words) to perform some anatomically impossible act.  Yes, I know the words, but I’m still shocked to hear them casually used and, what’s more, aimed right at me.  I must admit I was tempted to respond in the same lingo, but that too, is another Ethel.

To some I’m a Teacher, and there I smile, for I always learn more than I teach, because the teacher must ‘dig’ for more information than ever used, while all the students have to do is listen, doze, or not even attend.

I’m a different Ethel when met with anger or resentment, than with outstretched arms of love.  Yes, there are Ethels that I don’t especially like, either, but, at times we all play such roles.

I remember back when I was my Dad’s Flicka, his little Svenska girl, and though I didn’t know what he meant, I knew it was an Ethel I liked being.

I’m not sure who I was to my mother, for she could not accept the Ethel who failed to unquestionably follow in her steps.  I became far different from the Ethel she took for granted I would be, and sadness came to us both.  It caused me to be deeply careful to let my sons know I loved and approved of them, while at the same time, tried to give them a deep sense of character values, and yet also the freedom to use those values as they chose and that my love would not vary.

And sometime who we are is a puzzle, as to me with the one I’ve called  Gram.  She was my husband’s mother, so I was not her daughter, and yet she said I was her true daughter.  It’s an Ethel, I loved and am so glad I was given that role to fill.

And then there’s the Ethel who is a student, for that Ethel keeps me forever stepping through doors that, with just a touch, prove not to be doors at all, but new territory to explore and widen my mind.  This has become my favorite Ethel, for she points the way to the Ethel I am becoming as I eagerly step through those false doors with open eyes and mind.

To my surprise, and I wish I could tell every older person, but as I get older, I’m finding an entirely new Ethel.  I reach out to her with surprise and ask, where have you been all this time?  And I’ve found that I  had to wait until years of living, and stepping through those wide-open ‘closed doors’, would be needed to give me the bravery, joy, and wisdom to dare be the Ethel I never before was ready to meet.

And the best part of it all, is to find that I, by  the roles I play, I’m also able to choose what I will be tomorrow.  And to know that this is not a ‘new’ Ethel, but one who’s always been with me.

I’ve caught glimpses of that Ethel peeking out from behind the thousands of roles I’ve taken, but slowly found that no matter what name or camouflage I assume or am given, it is the real, never changing ‘me’.  And, shiver, shiver, shiver, like you, that’s who I am, always was and always will be.  Yes, names will vary but the Role will always be played by the Ethel who is One with The Source of all.