MORALITY OR MONEY???

We are at war in Houston, Texas.  There are those among us who through circumstances, resort to "financial quick fixes" via payday loans.  These are super-high interest loans, and payments are automatically deducted from a borrower's bank account.  The loan terms are oppressive and sometimes impossible to meet.  Or worse, the quick fix adds a greater burden on the borrower who will, until the loan is paid in full, still have too much month at the end of the money.

So, why are we at war?  It is because there are those in Houston who would rather continue the abusive, oppressive practices of payday lenders rather than support a proposed ordinance to limit their hold on the borrowers.  A particular councilmember, James Rodriguez (Disrict I), has "tagged" the proposed ordinance.  If the tag is not removed, council will not vote on this issue and it will die.

Why would Mr. Rodriguez want to have this issue tagged for a second time?  What does he hope to gain? Since he is term-limited, that is a good question to ask him.  And here is another:  What will he do when he leaves office?  Will he then work for the billion dollar payday lending consortium alongside the highly paid lobbyists the payday lenders brought in to defeat this ordinance?

This is not Washington, D.C.  This is local.  Our councilmembers are not hundreds of miles away making policies that affect triple-digit millions of people; they live in our neighborhoods.  Their children go to our schools.  They attend our churches (hopefully) and shop in our stores.  We see them out and about ... in our parks, on our streets.  So why would they NOT support an ordinance that would be good for other Houstonians who find themselves in dire financial distress that would compel them to resort to a high-interest loan ... perhaps to get a car repaired so they can go to work, or get a diagnostic test or medicine they need for their health?

I urge you, beg you, to contact your councilmember NOW, and compel him/her to REMOVE THE TAG AND VOTE FOR THE ORDINANCE!  And contact every at large member.  And, even if you don't live in his district, but especially if you do, contact Mr. Rodriguez and ask him to answer this question:  Will you choose morality and vote FOR the ordinance?  And if his answer is no, ask him this:  How much money will YOU get for selling us out?

If you are not a resident of Houston, but know someone who is, urge that person to take action NOW!

Another Day

This one was exceptionally long: leaving at 0700 and returning at 2230.  The morning started at 0545, the usual time.  Upon becoming aware, the first words uttered are “Good morning, God.”  As with many who live with an unpredictable, chronic condition, the body is surveyed for new changes . . . new anomalies.  There are none.  “Thank You, God.”  Noting that not only is it another day, but the mark of another year, that prompts another “thank You God.”  The phone rings, a friend in Alabama whose wedding I recently officiated.  “You didn’t think I would forget, did you?”

As on all of my past birthdays thoughts quickly turn to my mom, The Boss.  Arriving three weeks premature at 4 lbs, 4 oz. almost six decades ago, no one except The Boss expected me to survive. After living my first two months in an incubator, The Boss scooped me up and took me home, proclaiming that she could take better care of me.  And she did.  I am still here.  And as tight as things sometimes got, especially after Father’s sudden demise just months shy of my 15th birthday, The Boss was my earthly rock.  Even now, at the age of 94, she still asks “Can I do anything for you?”

At some point the mobile phone started beeping.  Birthday greetings posted on my Facebook timeline.  Private messages.  Virtual cakes, balloons and cards.  Well wishes.  The Beatles.  In the meantime, I was on the road to the Harris County Civil Courts building, arriving around 7:45.  More phone beeps.  More greetings via Facebook timeline.  Attempts to respond with a LIKE in acknowledgment and appreciation for the thought.  From the Civil Courts building to the post office to Greenway Plaza.  More phone beeps.  Some text messages via mobile phone and Facebook. Finally to my office.  “Happy birthday!”  A Gmail pop-up announces a gift from my Sweet Pea.

Three hours into may “desk” time I am roused for lunch.  They close/lock the office and the seven of us go a few blocks down Voss.  The 7th, a part-time bookkeeper, says, “I feel kind of guilty; I just got here 30 minutes ago.”  The reply: “oh, just do as you’re told: go to lunch!”  There ensued about 90 minutes of non-business talk, good food, and really funny stories of “when we were kids.”  A single-digit number of folks ranging in age from 25 to 59 (guess who that is), Black, Vietnamese, Caucasian, Hispanic, and Other, and it was then that I recalled that our “event planner” – the 25-year-old, addresses us as “Family” in her emails.  Somehow, it was all so normal, relationships that began somewhere between 4 months and 23 years ago have converged into one Family.

Back to the office.  More messages, phone calls, etc.  The Boss calls with her own embellished rendition of “Happy birthday to you.”  She still holds a decent tune.  My best friend calls, insisting that we “do something.”  We meet for dinner, then she wants to take me shopping. It is way late and I am far spent.  And stuffed!  Still, she is my best friend, so we stop to browse.

It is now 2321.  After 100+ timeline posts, messages, emails, virtual gifts, gift cards and phone calls, Another Day is almost over, It is not a day I will soon forget.  Let me tell you why.

I can remember other birthdays.  Hugely expensive presents — watches, dinners at over-priced restaurants, a diamond pendent, gold pendants with matching earrings, blah, blah, blah.  What the giver did not seem to grasp was that the gift was not as important as the spirit in which it is given.  I came to have no appreciation for such gifts because they were intended to be substitutes for what is most important about being human.  What is that?  I’m glad you asked.  What is most important about being human, and what keeps us human, is the human connection.  For one who spends a good deal of time in solitude, the human connection is not taken for granted.  Whether via keystrokes transmitted electronically, a phone call, or a place at the table, the genuine spirit of the greeting is as warming as a smile, as tangible as a handshake or a hug.

And so, to my friends and family, thank you for one of the best birthdays ever.  All day long, in one way or another, I was connected.

And so ends Another Day, which reminds me of an old gospel song: Another day that the Lord has kept me.  He has kept me from all evil, kept my mind stayed on Jesus.  Another day . . .

Which Dogs Are You Feeding?

Yesterday was very difficult, 1) because of memories of the circumstances of two six-year-olds being snatched from their homes five years ago (and thank God they were), and that those who abused them rather than cared for them even now stoop so low as to claim them for tax purposes; and 2) then the willful, intentional maiming and killing of people who were just going about the business of their day.  

Every moment is so precious, and we waste so many, going at-after each other for what sets us apart rather than for what brings us together.  (At this point, I am tempted to name names, but my other judgment vetoed the idea.)   You, yes you – you know who you are.  We all attach labels in ways that are inciting and divisive.   Many claim to be followers of The One who came to love, heal and forgive.  Many even attach Him to their transparent attempts to divide:  Christians For _____, Christians Against _______.  Just fill in the blank; you will find labels for both sides of any issue.  That in itself negates the authenticity of the use of His label.  And let’s not forget the Conservatives.  I always wonder what it is they’re trying to conserve.  Is it a way of life where they are always on top at the expense, and by the sweat and efforts of all others who do not look, act, believe or live as they do?  And what about those liberals – you know – the ones that think we need to redefine sin for the twenty-first century, who think discipline of children is an archaic method of torture rather than an act of love, who believe no one and no thing should have any bounds of decorum – in short, who think anything/everything goes.

Why does it take a tragedy of unusual scope for us to just come together, to work together, for the good of the many.  Why must we spend so much time feeding the dogs of jealousy, hatred, lust, exclusivity, carelessness and complacency?  What will it take for the many to see that together everyone achieves more.  What will it take for us to be a team – more often than not?  When will we decide to feed the dogs of compassion, caring, community, and peace?  How much more time must we waste fanning the flames of fires that consume – and destroy – our relationships and our peace?

Which dogs are you feeding?