Why Do Chemicals Get Such a Bad Rap?

One of my pet peeves, as a person with a degree in chemistry, is to hear people say that there are “chemicals” in our foods.  Of course there are.  Food is made of chemicals….proteins, carbohydrates and fats ARE chemicals.  Everything in the world is a chemical.  Oxygen in the air is a chemical.  Water is a chemical.  Our own bodies are a whole factory of chemicals reacting with each other constantly.  Chemicals are not inherently bad.

What these people really mean is that there may be potentially harmful man-made chemicals (i.e. not naturally occurring ones) in our foods.  This might include residues of pesticides or fertilizers used during the growing process or additives to preserve color or deter spoilage.  I propose calling these Artificially Created Harmful Substances…because ACHS seems like an appropriately revolting acronym.

However, even regarding ACHS, I cannot jump on the oh-my-goodness-let’s-read-every-label-and-eat-organic bandwagon.  I certainly would not propose a diet consisting entirely of processed meats which are high in nitrates, or drinking only soda which is flavored sugar water, or surviving on TV dinners which are often very high in sodium and fat in addition to various additives.  However, occasionally indulging in such foods should not throw one into a panic that he risking his health.

During the same time period that additives in processed foods have increased, life expectancy in the United States has increased.  My grandparents’ generation ate food off the farm raised naturally and in ways now labeled “organic.”  But, that generations’ life expectancy was considerably shorter than my generation.  The fact that cancer seems more prevalent now, may be nothing more than the natural consequence of people living longer.  The more times a cell divides, the greater the odds that something will go wrong during one of those divisions and rogue cells will develop.  (I am not disputing that some cancers seem clearly linked to harmful chemical exposure, but those are special cases of excessive exposure.)

I would propose all things in moderation.  I do not eat donuts every day, but once in awhile, I do eat one, and I don’t feel guilty.  I do not drink soda every day, but I do drink it on occasion.  I like bacon, hot dogs and salami.  I don’t eat them every day. 

When my mother died at the age of 80, my father (who lived to 90) said bitterly, “She believed in all things in moderation, and look where it got her.” 

I replied, “Yes, look where it got her.  She lived 10 years longer than anyone else in her family.”

My mother had a life-long history of vascular problems:  blood clots in her legs during pregnancies, a pulmonary embolism in her 40s, a heart attack in her 70s and finally the stroke which took her life.  However, her parents died at 65 and 68, and her brothers at 50, 61 and 70.  I think moderation in diet and NOT smoking, plus careful medical care served her well.

Speaking of careful medical care, medications are….gasp….chemicals!

Lovely Lady, Lucky Man

The agent who checked our boarding passes as we got on our flight in Jacksonville said something I remember hearing before.  He scanned my boarding pass, and then as he scanned Bill’s pass, he said, “And here’s the lucky man who gets to sit next to the lovely lady.”  I assume the reason I remember hearing it before is that the same agent scanned our passes on a previous occasion when we flew through Jacksonville.

This brings several questions to my mind:

1.        How many times each day does he say this?

2.       How does he decide on whom to use this line?

3.       Has it ever backfired on him?  Has he ever misjudged the situation?  E.g. Has he ever said it to a couple about to get divorced or in the middle of a fight or who were actually not a couple?

4.       Does he have any other clever lines that he looks for opportunities to use?

In any event, it put a smile on my face and has provided me with some amusement since, as I have pondered various scenarios.  I expect he would get away with it, even if someone didn’t like it, because at that point everyone is hurrying down the jet way and not likely to stop for conversation or confrontation.

I hope he tells his wife that she is lovely, and he is lucky!

Paper Towel Fiasco

While waiting for my flight out of Jacksonville, I decided to use the rest room.  What should have been mundane turned to hilarious, when I attempted to get a paper towel to dry my hands.  I waved my hand in front of the sensor.  The towel came out, and I ripped it off.  But, the towel dispenser did NOT stop.  Another paper towel appeared and then another.  I ripped off about 4 towels, before I began to giggle.  The dispenser kept spitting them out. 

A young lady washing her hands at an adjacent sink looked over and laughed.  I said, “Would you like a paper towel,” and handed her one.  I could not keep up with all the towels spewing out of the machine.  I said, “I feel like Lucille Ball at the chocolate factory.”  The young woman obviously knew what I meant, because she nodded and laughed harder.

Realizing I couldn’t keep up with this, I arranged the towels so that they started to fan-fold on the surface of the counter under the dispenser.  I stood back and tried to figure this out.  No attendant was in sight.  I waved my hand in front of the sensor again…no luck, the towels kept coming.  I hit the dispenser on the right.  The towels kept coming.  I hit the dispenser on the left.  The towels kept coming.  I stood back and laughed some more.

A well-dressed and sophisticated lady came out of a stall and with a stern expression asked me if I had ripped a towel off.  She apparently thought I was an idiot.  She ripped one off, messing up my fanfold arrangement.  The towels kept coming.  I reconstructed the fanfold.

A no-nonsense lady came out of a stall.  The young lady and I were still giggling.  The sophisticated lady was still scowling.  The no-nonsense lady strode over and wiped off the glass that covers the sensor, reasoning that if something was on it, the machine might be thinking a hand was waving.  The towels kept coming.

I started to suspect this might be a Candid Camera trick, and that someone was going to pop out and tell us we had been caught.  But, no one emerged with that information. 

When I left the rest room, the machine was still whirring.  The towels were still fan-folding.  I was still laughing.

Ice Storm Revelation

Competing systems collide,

In rare and mysterious fashion.

A mist or a drizzle deposits,

In layer after layer of glaze.

Not a sudden occurrence,

But building with passing time,

Changing  temperature may reverse

The slow and fearsome process.

The wise seek refuge inside,

They sleep until the sounds begin,

Creaking, groaning, cracking,

Snapping, clattering, crashing.

Morning dawns to an altered world,

Tangled limbs encased, suspended,

Fallen or bent low to the ground,

Creating a crystal palace maze.

For days the cold preserves

The sun illuminated glory

Of a world coated with diamonds

And iridescent jewel paint.

Warming begins the degradation,

With a slow and steady dripping.

Gemstones fall into the snow,

Revealing bare and broken branches.

Some will recover in the spring,

Green sprouts of new life will immerge.

Others, damaged beyond repair,

Will slowly rot away.

The red carpets of the world,

Sparkle with couture and jewels,

Flashes of light reflect from icy glamour.

But time and gravity operate.

And not every tree can bear,

The horrible weight of beauty.

Christmas Accomplished

I feel heartsick and a bit nauseous every time I see a certain ad playing this season.  A beautiful and smartly dressed woman is shown shopping for, wrapping, and giving presents.  The closing line of the ad is “Christmas accomplished.”  I am sickened because it trivializes the true accomplishment of Christmas. 

I am not opposed to gift giving.  I have spent a lot of time over the past few weeks searching for items online and in stores.  I will spend time wrapping the gifts, mailing some to family out of town, and giving others during family occasions over the holidays.  I genuinely enjoy trying to find items that are needed or wanted.  I particularly delight in fulfilling the wishes of grandchildren (one of whom has bubble wrap on her wish list).  But, I am very clear, that is not the purpose of Christmas.  When all the gifts are purchased, wrapped and given, Christmas will NOT be accomplished.

Christmas was God’s accomplishment.  The Creator and Sustainer of the Universe, the One who is infinitely wise, loved us frail and flawed human beings so much, that He was willing to become one of us in order to reconcile us to Himself.  The greatest accomplishment of any human being does not match that.  The sum total of the accomplishments of ALL human beings is nothing in comparison.  This is a mystery beyond the comprehension of the human mind.  “The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.”  (John 1:14)

The angels understood the significance and filled the skies with joyful singing.  Glory to God in the highest!  The shepherds, although not totally understanding, had enough of an inkling, that they traveled through the darkness to a stable where they knelt in awe.  The Magi traveled a great distance to bring gifts to someone they believed to be a mighty king.  Even Mary couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the event and pondered these things in her heart.

So…T J Maxx…your pretty lady has NOT accomplished Christmas. 

“God so loved the world that he gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”  (John 3:16)

God gave the gift we all need.

He accomplished Christmas!

“Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift!”  (II Corinthians 9:15)

Dressed in Black

 This time of year, it is pitch black at 5 pm when I head home after tutoring.  This evening, I waited for on-coming traffic so that I could make the left turn off the main street and on to a side street that leads to home.  A large truck on the side street was at the stop sign giving me the right-of-way before it made the left turn on to the main street.  As I turned, I caught movement near the back of the truck.  A young woman, dressed entirely in dark clothing, ran out from behind the truck and into my lane.  She was on her cell phone, not thinking about her own safety.  I slammed on the brakes.  Fortunately, although there was a dusting of snow, the street was not slippery, and I stopped in time.

I drove away with my heart in my throat and her image etched in my mind.  A slender young black woman, dark pants, dark jacket, some type of head scarf…a print, but dark in color…cell phone to her ear.  If I had hit her, it would not have been my fault.  She was not in a crosswalk and ran out from behind the truck.  But, if I had hit her, who was at fault would not have influenced the degree of her injury.

How many times in life are there near misses?  Something terrible is only a sliver of time or space away.  I am grateful for the protection of a loving God, who spared her from injury and me from grief.

What Goes Around....

….comes around.

My heart is grieved when I see teenagers and young adults mistreat and disrespect their parents.  I have lived long enough to see what happens in the next generation.

Many years ago my mother talked to me about a family she knew well.  She was saddened to watch A’s mother say and do disrespectful things toward A’s grandmother.  She said that A would treat her mother the same way someday.  A is now an adult, who goes way past what her mother did to her grandmother.  Although her mother is still living, she has no relationship with her, and has declared that as far as she is concerned, she has no mother.

I have seen this in my own family.  The children who lied to me, swore at me, and were generally awful to me as teenagers have had terrible struggles with their own teenagers.  One has asked me more than once, if I wished it on her.  NO!  NO!  No matter how hurt I was, I never once wished that revenge for me would come through my grandchildren.  I never wished it, but with great sadness, I knew it would happen.

I am currently trying to convince someone of this.  She is behaving most cruelly toward her mother.  In a few days, she will be looking lovingly at her own child.  She will convince herself that this sweet little babe will never break her heart.  She cannot see into the future and know that everything she dishes out will fall back into her own lap…probably multiplied.

It is futile for me to hope I am wrong.  It may be better for me to hope, that I don’t live long enough to see it.