Yesterday afternoon the United States Postal Service dropped a week’s worth of bills, junk mail, mail-order boxes, and Christmas cards in my mailbox.  It’s the first mail we’ve had since last Tuesday, but I digress.

Amidst the Christmas packages and credit card offers was a small envelope from the bank.  It contained the title transfer document for the van.   We recently paid it off, which means that we paid off all three vehicles early.

I took a moment to think about that.  For the first time in a decade, I do not have a car payment.  The truck, the Irish Woman’s little beep-beep, and the minivan are all paid off.

It feels very liberating to be able to look at my budget for January and see that nice chunk of a few hundred dollars that can be directed somewhere else.  My plans are to put about a third of it into the general budget to ease up some of the restrictions I’ve put on our expenditures.  The rest will be used to pay off other debt we have run up over the years.  If I play my cards right we will be debt free except for a mortgage in twelve to eighteen months.

This makes me think about our government and its seemingly endless inability to stop spending money like water.  Every year it seems there’s another reason to borrow an even higher level of debt.  One year the Air Force wants a whole new fighter fleet, the next it’s a president’s pet social project.  My grandparents’ generation set up a basic social safety net in the 1930’s.  This was expanded greatly in the 1960’s, and President Obama is doing his best to expand its scope beyond even FDR and LBJ’s wildest imaginations.

Look, I have compassion for poor people and old folks. But I’m also a realist.  Unlike my parents, I fully expect to pay into Social Security and Medicare my entire life and never see a dime for it when I finally stop working.  Unlike the Baby Boomer generation, I understand basic economics to some degree.  I realize that we as a nation can’t continue to spend the money our grandchildren will be making and expect for there to be anything left in a few years, much less the two to three decades I plan to continue to work.

Austerity is needed.  Across the board, the government needs to at the very least stop the growth in spending.  Every program that takes money from the public kitty needs to be scrutinized and pared down or eliminated.  The military, as much as it pains me to say this, needs to swallow hard and cancel programs that replace systems that are still serviceable.  There probably needs to be a needs test for Social Security and Medicare.   The money being spent on the wars on drugs and terrorism needs to be evaluated.   All of those nice pet project earmarks in legislation need to be stripped out. Even normally untouchable popular expenditures like student aid need to cut back for the good of the country.

Austerity programs are rarely popular, and usually hurt some more than others.  Life’s tough, and it’s rarely fair. We’ve been on a drunken bender of spending for two generations in this country.  We need to wake up, sober up, and grow up.  Until our financial house is in order, we need to be honest with ourselves and stop spending money on things we can live without.  Some will suffer, but we will all benefit.

Local basketball coach and Italian restaurant trawler, Rick Pitino, has been selected to coach the Puerto Rican national basketball team as it tries to qualify for the 2012 Olympics.

Congratulations to Mr. Pitino.   Coaching at the Olympics would be an honor to anyone, and working with these athletes to get them there will be a feather in his cap even if they don’t make it.  Good luck to all of you!

But this begs the question:  Why does Puerto Rico have a national basketball team?  Last I checked it was still a territory of the United States.  Heck, they’ve had several votes to either try for statehood or go on their own during my lifetime and decided to stay right where they are.

For some reason, the fact that there is a Puerto Rican national basketball team seems to catch in my craw.

The United States provides the people of Puerto Rico with the protection of our military.  Our laws, including NAFTA, have special provisions giving some industries tax breaks for setting up shop on the island.  Heck, when goods are imported onto the island from other countries, the import duties are paid to the territorial government, not the U.S. 

By some economists Puerto Rico’s economy is considered somewhat fictitious. Puerto Rico has very few natural resources of economic value and its economy relies mainly on Federal Aid from the United States Government, which depends on the industrialization programs and the tax incentives that U.S. offers.

In 2002, the Federal government sent $4,793,333,000.00 to Puerto Rico in the form of direct aid to the Territorial government.  To put that in perspective, Puerto Rico received five times as much from the Federal government as all other U.S. Territories combined.  Another thing to consider is that Puerto Rico received more federal aid than the District of Columbia.  DC is almost fully supported by the Federal government, and it still didn’t get as much money as this one territory.

Apparently Puerto Rico wants to have their cake and eat it too.  They want the money and safety of being part of the Land of the Round Doorknob, but don’t want the responsibility of being a state.  They want the ability to act like a sovereign nation but don’t want to take the responsibility of feeding themselves.

I’m not sure if the United States has the power to tell a territory that they’re on their own, but if we do, then maybe it’s time to pat the Puerto Rican Territorial government on the butt and watch them leave the nest.  No more tax breaks.  No more free military protection.  No more monthly check from Uncle Sugar.  You want to have your own treasury, laws, culture, and national basketball team?  Go ahead.  Good luck in trying to drag yourself up from being a Caribbean backwater.

When writing a note to your Congressman, using the salutation “Dear Thieving Bastard,” is probably not conducive to getting cooperation from your elected official.

’twas the night before Christmas
And all through the house
Everyone was pissed
Including my spouse.

All I want for Christmas is a two bore rifle
A two bore rifle
A two bore rifle
Yes all I want for Christmas is a two bore rifle
So I can keep those kids off my lawn!

I saw the agent frisking Santa Claus
Over at the terminal last night

(I didn’t write this one, but it’s one of my favorite Christmas carols)
In the village there is a commie
Walking with an AK in his arms
Maybe he’s thinking of his mommy
And hoping we won’t do him any harm
Later on, we’ll conspire
To lock, load, and fire.
Lock and load a round
Commie hits the ground
Walking in a sniper’s wonderland

When the Christmas season in general, and the local news in particular have you in a funk, sitting on the couch and watching Finding Nemo with your youngest is the best medicine.

Someone had a lot of time on his hands.  Seizure warning on this one, either from laughter or blinking lights.

Yesterday was the anniversary of the final ratification of the U.S. Constitution and the Bill of Rights.  This is a repost from a couple of years ago.  Enjoy!

On this date in 1791, the first 10 amendments to the United States Constitution were ratified.
For those of you who took a hit of blotter acid prior to civics class in high school, these are the ones that say what the government isn’t allowed to do to you. These are rights, not privileges. They’re not granted by the government. We grant power to the government so that these rights can be safeguarded. Sometimes we forget that.

Here are all of the amendments to the constitution and my interpretation of them. This is a long one, but I think you’ll like it. H/T to Wikipedia on this one.

Amendment # 1
The government can’t force you to have religion, and the government can’t force you not to express your religion. It’s none of their business. You can say or print pretty much anything you want to and the government can’t do much to stop you. This right will not, however, keep your ass from getting kicked due to what you say or print. We can all get together to do something as long as we’re not hurting anyone, and we can complain to the government any time we want to when they screw up. Some people make a living doing this. What a country.

Amendment # 2
We have to defend ourselves, sometimes from the government itself, and the government can’t take away our guns or stop us from getting them. And it’s no one’s business but my own what I have.

Amendment # 3
The government can’t force me to put up and feed soldiers during peacetime, although I can pay for their beer if I want to, and during time of war, they have to actually pass a law forcing me to do this. But all they’d have to do is ask nicely, and I’ll sleep on the couch so a couple of paratroopers can get a good nights sleep and a good breakfast.

Amendment # 4
Got a warrant? No? Then come back when you get one. Please put that thermal imaging system away. And thanks for being a cop.

Amendment # 5
The government can’t just drag me into court. You have to convince people just like me that I’ve actually committed a crime. The government only gets to try to throw my fat self into jail for doing something once. The government can’t force me to testify against myself, and I’m not saying anything until my lawyer gets here. The government can’t take my land to build a strip mall unless you actually pay me for it. And that better be a really nice strip mall.

Amendment # 6
The government has to let me have a lawyer. Hopefully one with a clue. The government can’t throw me into jail for a few years before they get around to actually accusing and trying me. I can’t be arrested in Kentucky and tried in Minnesota for something I did in New Mexico. I have to be told what I’m being accused of, and the government can’t stop me from trying to prove that their witnesses aren’t lousy stinking lieing rats who should be thrown in front of a truck.

Amendment # 7
We have to take our arguments to be decided by 12 people who couldn’t get out of jury duty.

Amendment # 8
The government can’t hold you on $2 million dollars bail for spitting on the sidewalk, and they can’t fine you that $2 million for said spitting. As satisfying as flogging a child molester or hanging a multiple murderer up to his neck in pig droppings would be, some panty waisted loser would have his feelings hurt, and we can’t have that.

Amendment # 9
Just because we didn’t think of it in here, doesn’t mean it’s not a right. This must be where that right to choice is.

Amendment # 10
The federal government only gets those powers that are given to it in the Constitution. If it’s not in here, they don’t get it. All of that stuff goes to the states, or better yet, the actual people who pay taxes and keep the train rolling.

Amendment # 11
The Federal courts can’t be used by anyone to sue a state unless the state agrees to participate. So you have to have their consent to try to sue them. Good luck with all that.

Amendment # 12
Way too long to put the text in here, but basically, we vote for electors, the electors vote for President and Vice President, and if you can’t be President for some reason, you don’t get to be Vice President. From the length of the amendment, you can see that the lawyers had already taken over by 1804.

Amendment # 13
You don’t get to own other people. And the government can pass laws to make sure you don’t. As a transplant to Kentucky, I can tell you there are a lot of people who either have a problem with this one, or haven’t heard about it yet.

Amendment # 14
Again, the lawyers must have eaten their Wheaties when they wrote this one. Way too long, but they were trying to cover a lot of bases with one amendment. First, if you’re born in the United States, you’re a citizen, even if mama came across the border only to have you in the ER in San Diego. Second, every person in a state is counted as a whole human being when figuring out how many electors the states get for electing the President. No more math in figuring out what 3/5th’s of a person is. Third, if you made an oath to the Confederacy, you don’t get to be a part of the government. No kidding? You can’t be an officer of a government you tried to overthrow? We actually had to write that down? Fourth, we’re going to pay our debts, but I’ll be damned if we’ll pay off the debts of the Confederacy.

Amendment # 15
Ex slaves get to vote, and Congress can pass laws making sure they get to. We passed this on in 1870. Only took 80 or 90 years for this one to be enforced at all.

Amendment # 16
Congratulations, the government figured out a way to punish you for making more money than it takes to keep your family at the poverty level. And there’s nothing you can do about it.

Amendment # 17
Another wordy one. We get to directly pick our Senators in an election, instead of the former manner, which involved something resembling the “Twit of the Year” contest.

Amendment # 18
Yet another one that was written by a committee. You can’t be trusted to drink alcohol, so it’s illegal. Everywhere. Unless you happen to be a Kennedy.

Amendment # 19
Women get the vote. Whoopee. Pants suits for everyone.

Amendment # 20
For the love of God, were they being paid by the word? The President and Vice President have to show up to work in January, and the Congress actually has to show up once a year.

Amendment # 21
18th Amendment? We don’t need no stinking 18th Amendment! You have to believe in something, and I believe I’ll have a beer.

Amendment # 22
You only get to be President for two terms. Not 4, just 2. No President for life. At least not again.

Amendment # 23
The District of Columbia gets to actually have someone represent them in the Presidential election. They just don’t get a Senator or Congressman with an actual vote.

Amendment # 24
You can’t be denied your right to vote because you can’t pay a tax. You should have to pass an intelligence test, but we haven’t passed that amendment yet.

Amendment # 25
The Vice President gets to be President if he bumps off the President.

Amendment # 26
18 year olds get to vote. Still can’t buy a beer, but they can at least vote for the guys who keep them from drinking.

Amendment # 27
The accidental amendment. Proposed in 1789, ratified in 1992. If a Congressman votes himself another unearned raise, he has to go through another election cycle before he starts to rake it in. This one is also a monument to that great American motto “I’ll get around to it”.

So that’s it. 27 amendments to the document that has governed the country since its founding. Not bad for a bunch of oppressors, or as we who actually deserve to be protected by the Constitution would call them, the illustrious geniuses who designed and founded our Republic.

Her name was Marina, and she taught me conversational Serb.  Or at least she tried. For the most part the three young soldiers who met with her for two hours every morning just let her talk.  It was better to watch her and listen to her birdlike voice talk to us about life in Bosnia, how things were said, and how different groups said the same thing in different ways.  She had no English, but spoke enough Russian that when we didn’t understand her she could explain herself to us.

She was a couple of years older than me, and was beautiful in an all-American Bosnian girl kind of way.  She had green eyes, a creamy white complexion, and had dyed her hair that reddish purple color that European women seemed to favor in the early 1990’s.  The difference was that she made it look good in the semi-unruly just-tumbled-out-of-bed she was able to pull off day after day. 

I didn’t talk much, but she didn’t mind doing most of the talking.  You sit across from a goddess for two hours a day and try to speak in a foreign language.  I was lucky to be able to speak English, let alone Serb, to her.

She came from a small village near Mostar, and had gone to university in Sarajevo.  Her family was Muslim, but wasn’t religious.  She had studied to be an engineer of some kind, and hoped that after her gig with the U.S. Army that she could find a good job with a German company.   Her refugee status didn’t allow it, but her husband (damn the luck, and my own wedding ring) had applied for a work permit, and things were looking good. 

She had married her university sweetheart, and moved with him to a small town near Tuzla.  When the Bosnian war broke out, her husband and all of his male relatives had ended up in one militia or another under the Bosnian government’s umbrella.  She had stayed home until the night her Serb neighbors decided it would be nice to live in a Muslim free area.  That night she, her mother-in-law, and young sister-in-law got out just ahead of the mob.  Her neighbors who didn’t leave everything they couldn’t carry and run endured gang rapes and worse. 

Marina ended up in Sarajevo, staying with friends from her university days.  When the Serbs encircled Sarajevo and cut it off from the rest of the country in order to starve it out, she and her mother-in-law became responsible for a small group of younger children whose parents were either fighting, dead, or missing.  She endured the first winter in Sarajevo, where all of the trees in that beautiful city were sacrificed to survival.  Food was in short supply.  She liked to joke about how fat she’d become in Germany after being so wonderfully skinny in Sarajevo. She would sometimes tearfully talk of the children who she was responsible for.

Eventually, she and her little group were evacuated to Germany.  The children were distributed out to the NGO sponsored foster programs that had been hurriedly put together.  She and her in-laws were eventually able to find her husband, who had his own adventure making his way out of Bosnia through Croatia and Austria. Her husbands uncles, father, and brothers weren’t quite so lucky. 

The Americans found themselves with their pants down when it came to Serbo-Croat speakers, so she found a job teaching us bluntskulls who already spoke one Slavic language or another how to speak Serb. After a few months of failing to teach people Serb in 21 days, the Army moved the language program from Augsburg to Garmisch and extended the program to 16 weeks.  This put the Serb teachers under the wing of a proper language school, since the Army’s European language training center was there.  It also gave them proper jobs, and I’ve heard that many of them were able to use their work there to get permanent residence in Germany. 

Marina was the first Bosnian I ever got to know, and when I think of Bosnians, hers is the face that pops to mind.  For the most part, she didn’t care about ethnic differences prior to the war.  She was ethnically Muslim, but in that country all that meant was that her ancestors had decided to stop being Catholic or Orthodox and start going to the mosque.  If you put her next to the Croat teachers, other than the fact that she made them all look drab and plain, there was not real difference.  But somewhere in the collective psyche of the Serbs, Croats, and even the Muslims, a difference was found and exploited. 

We find a lot of differences between ourselves here in the United States.  A lot of vitriol is exchanged between left and right, black and white, rich and poor.  I have heard Baptists insult Catholics, Christians spew hate about Muslims, and atheists ridicule them all.  For the most part, I let all of this flow past me.  I make the occasional pithy remark, but I try to stop short of personal attacks against individuals or groups.  A lovely young woman with sparkling green eyes once taught me that neighbors can rise up against neighbors in horrible ways, and my greatest fear is that our wars of words, ideas, and talking heads will turn into wars of bullets, rapes, and burning.