You Have to Wonder

I've been making some observations and have concluded that, "You have to Wonder". The more I look around, listen, and watch other people in action this wonderment transforms into fascination. Here are some examples:

There is a terrific restaurant with excellent service where I have dined. I love its unique ambiance and cooking my food in the hot oil provided. There is something very special about a leisurely meal served in several courses where rushing is out of the question. We normally celebrate with the specialty meat and seafood combination, cheesy bread and vegetables, and then dessert - a lovely repast. That is lovely until my niece pointed out, "If you are going to pay $100 for dinner [I failed to mention the wine earlier] then it darn well better come already cooked!" Good point here. You have to wonder about an expensive meal out where you do most of the work.

When I think of the navy I imagine ships, jets, and submarines, all of those craft that sail the seas. The problem with the aforementioned is that one such center is located in Hawthorne, Nevada. We do have water in Nevada, for example Lake Tahoe and Lake Mead, but neither of these could be confused with the sea. Furthermore Hawthorne lies in the middle of the Great Basin Desert where you will find little to no water anywhere as evidenced by the sparse plant life and arid conditions. Hawthorne definitely appears to be naval and "warfarish" with all of the ammunition buildings but I am unsure on how an undersea operation could function in these dry conditions.

Now let's consider presto logs. I can remember as a child I believed presto logs were magnificent. My aunt Chum always had a stack of them available to toss into her fireplace and they lit almost instantly. As a kid, I thought they were great - warm, crackling, and friendly. The oddity here is that my aunt lived near enormous expanses of forest. While chain saws were not available she was strong and wielded an ax effortlessly. She had hearty neighbors plus my dad, her brother, who could help. Why in a forest area do people purchase "home-made" logs? Handy and useful, by all means, but in a practical sense, they seem unwise.

You can probably relate to the words "hot lunch". Where I attended school, and even more recently as a teacher, hot lunches were freshly baked by our delightful cooks. Simmering spaghetti, chili beans of magnificence, and steaming pies and cookies were regular fare. I watched our cooks arrive before the staff and launch into a busy morning of food preparation and although I heard students complain, never a sour word was uttered by me as the meals were always delicious. Hot lunch in many of today's schools resembles nothing like my description. At my last school lunch was zapped up, pre-made everything, from tired looking hotdogs to toughly, chewy burritos, to pizza loaded with grease but not much flavor. While it is still sometimes hot, compared to earlier lunches that I enjoyed, the taste and savor have vanished.

Work ethic is another wavering phenomenon. When I signed on for my first job (hoeing sugar beets) I was thirteen years old. I guess there were limited age laws for field labor. My friend, her sister, and I joined this profession to earn $20 to pay for church camp. We arrived before dawn with hoe in hand and struggled through three grueling days of heat, toil, and endless rows of beets. We were slow and inefficient compared to other workers, but we kept our promise to complete the field and collect our cash. I am certain the farmer was a glad as we were when our job ended. I just read an article that stated that firms of all types cringe when it comes to hiring recent college graduates for a number of reasons. This group tends to phone in sick more often, play on the Internet incessantly, and come to work inappropriately dressed with miscellaneous tattoos and piercings. When suggestions are made concerning workplace behavior, many graduates are shocked that their actions are deemed inappropriate.

When prisoners have served an adequate amount of time and are determined as minimal risk to society, they are often sent to Honor Camp. When I think of the term "honor" I recall Honor Roll, Honorable Mention, and Honor's Course. If these prisoners are so honorable, why are they still in custody? Shouldn't honor mean that they are respected and will adhere to all rules because they are honor-bound? If this is true, why are they not allowed going home at night and then returning honorably to work the next day? I believe that the Honor Camp is a good system for rehabilitation. Working in the community is far better to the mind and soul than languishing and fomenting behind bars. Activity brings energy and life and the service of these individuals is valuable. I am just confused with the terminology.

So that this does not become a tirade I will end with billboards (though this topic could extend to written print anywhere). Remember your seventh grade English teacher who hounded you on there, their, and they're or it's and its? How can a huge road sign, read by thousands of drivers each day not include a proofreading component? "There ready for you!" and "Don't forget its Tuesday" These errors make my hair stand on end. When you think of the cost for sign creation and billboard rent, couldn't a few dollars be thrown in for editing?

You've got to wonder when people cannot name the vice-president, their state senators, or even the capital and capitol. You've also must wonder when simple mathematics is elusive and correct spelling is in collapse. As an educated nation I am uncertain as to how educated we actually are. What's your (I wanted to tease you with "Whats you're") wonderment? How do you propose to get it fixed? Perhaps it is a smile that best deals with it all but taking action may really make the difference.