Job Corps

Okay. I rant and rave about people taking advantage of the system. By taking advantage, I mean people who get welfare because they don't want to work. Because they can get more for sitting on their behinds then they can from earning a paycheck.
But on Tuesday, I saw an attempt to address that.
On Tuesday I toured Pine Ridge Job Corps.
Job Corps is a federal program for "at risk" kids who otherwise might end up being a drain on the system. It is NOT a blank check, nor a lifetime membership into the Federal Dole. What it is , is a new take on the old problem: Is it wiser to put a fence at the top of a steep hill or to buy an ambulance for those who end up at the bottom?
Like the Armed Services, Job Corps covers every need ( room and board, living expenses, medical etc.) for a specified time ( up to two years)while kids are gaining skills and attitudes and ethics which translate to being useful citizens.
( Read: TAXPAYERS, not SYSTEM USERS)
Kids who come into the program with high school diplomas take a test to determine if they are proficient in math, English, etc. and if they are not proficient, they MUST take remedial classes. Imagine that. They have to be proficient before they graduate the program. WHAT A CONCEPT!
They get a great vocational education as well as some character building. They are expected to adopt the rigorous discipline of the centers as their own and to take that self-discipline with them when they graduate.
AND when they graduate, Job Corps helps them find employment. They even get 1 year of free job counseling, someone to follow them on the job to ensure success.
I HATE people who expect to live supported by the system for life. We spend a lot of money on "ambulances."
But Job Corps is a genuine attempt to put a fence at the top of that steep slope into welfare dependency. Yay.

My Husband's Affair. A Remote Chance To Salvage My Relationship?

Charlie is in the grips of a tumultuous relationship.
I've watched it grow, and I fear that my husband is headed for nothing but heartache. I could give in to jealousy, but it would be of no use. The object of his affections can offer him things I can't.
For one thing, I am not sleek. I've noticed the way his hands caress the slim form of his beloved... the tight, bulgeless lines.
And the object of Charlie's fickle emotions is so available. He does not want for company or attention. But with all that, my rival is not demanding.
Maybe that is where I have gone wrong. I sometimes have my own agenda, and I ask for chunks of his time. I require him to answer my questions.
Oh, his love asks for input as well, but only when he initiates the contact.
The relationship offers him such peace that he sometimes drifts off to sleep embracing his beloved. And when he does that, my rival simply waits, unoffended.
I would be livid.
Instead, I can only sit by and watch the relationship unfold. I find it hard to believe that he is so callous to my feelings.
My only hope is that the relationship will cool over time. That more and more effort will be demanded of him before his needs are met. That the shiny newness of everything will wear off.
Oh yes. This is not his first dalliance. I've seen it before.

The last remote we had got lodged in the side of the recliner and several buttons were hopelessly jammed. We had to get a new one.
I, on the other hand, am still here.

Put the Scrubs In

I went to a "C" game last night. You know what that is: There's varsity, junior varsity and the "C's." The coaches say they do it that way so that the other kids, the kids who can't usually dribble without losing the ball and the ones who shoot and miss the basket by feet, can play.
The "C" kids practice with the rest of the team. They suit up and support the varsity and junior varsity at their games. And they wait eagerly for the few games that they have scheduled. ( Not every school has enough kids out to make up a "C" team, so many times all that practice leads to four hours sitting the bench.)
The thing is, when those kids play, they play hard. To them it's not the "scrub" game. It is THEIR game.
So when the coaches decide to play the junior varsity in the "C" game, cutting down play time for the real "C" team kids to a paltry 4 or 5 minutes, it seems unfair. But the coaches want to win. They want that badly. And they put in those kids who aren't really on the "C" team to achieve that goal.
I got to thinking last night. What does it say to a kid who isn't good enough to make the varsity, nor the junior varsity, and then can't even play in the last league? Does it tell them they are valued, or does it convince them the world isn't interested in "losers?"
Life can be like that, I suppose. So maybe the lesson is warranted. Maybe they need to learn, and learn early, that not everyone is created equal. That hard work and determination are not always rewarded, and that sometimes we work desperately and achieve the prize only to have it snatched away and put into the hands of someone who "deserves it more."
Don't get me wrong. Few things infuriate me more than the concept of entitlement-- the idea that society "owes" us because of who we are or what we have been through. Career welfare recipients ( those who won't work because they get more from the system) are thieves.
But when someone works hard and finally surmounts obstacles to gain the prize, however small that prize may seem, they deserve to keep it...even if the "team" doesn't win.
Just sayin'.

CHANGE PICTURE?

Every time I get the mouse pointer ( does it have a name?) anywhere near my profile picture, a pop-up suggests I change it.
I have news for my mouse. It doesn't get any better. You are who you are.
Oh, I've tried.
I hid out in my bathroom once, set my camera for automatic timer and tried to get posed before the flash went off. I almost made it. There is just a bit of my forehead visible. See, at the last moment, I realized that the camera was pointed up, and I climbed up onto the tub edge, grabbed the shower curtain rod and smiled. The flash went off just as I fell, and caught my forehead. The tub caught the rest of me.
And once, I rested the camera on the place where two huge branches of my catalpa tree converge just over my deck. I set the timer and got into position before I heard the bird above me. As the flash went off, I looked up...
My daughter takes lovely pictures, and she has attempted to photograph me. Unfortunately, her camera can do only so much. And I've tried those touch-up features on the online photo programs. When you get to that degree of touch-up, the program asks you to upgrade your membership.
No, You just are what you are, and I suppose I should be grateful. My wrinkles hide most of my imperfections...things like my eyes and my nose. People don't study my pictures too much. Peering into those wrinkles is a little like looking into dark caverns: you can't see anything, but you can hear the bats flying around.
I'm just glad you can't smell guano.
As for my mouse, he'll have to get used to the profile picture I'm using. It's the same one I've had posted in the kitchen for years. Sure repels his cousins.