...To the Death

Paul Ezra Rhoades of Idaho Falls brutally killed three people, two young women and a young man, in 1987. Today he was executed by the State of Idaho. It's Idaho's first execution in 17 years.

Normally I like to stay away from political topics. Things get heated, I tend to hold grudges against those who disagree with me, a lot of times I don't really care about the topic at hand, I don't like when people repeatedly shove their "opinions" down your throat, the sheep mentality... BUT I do think this is an interesting topic: you've got Bible thumpers sitting on both sides, liberals and conservatives arguing over terms like "humane" and "justice", and victims' loved ones struggling between finding closure and reliving the nightmare.

John Grisham has written a few books revolving around the death penalty. The latest I've read is The Confession, where the State of Texas executes the wrong man after the real killer comes forward. Whether or not you're for the death penalty, it makes you think. It made me wonder how many times the wrong person has been executed while the true culprit gets to live. I think it happens rarely, if at all, with all our wonderful advances in technology. Things like DNA evidence, microscopic details that can be computer analyzed, and pyscho-analyses have come such a long long way since even 15 years ago. In a society that uses the death penalty, it's bound to happen unfortunately. This book made me feel sad for innocent men and women who went to their "justified" deaths for crimes they did not commit. On the flip side, it made me feel that there are crimes so heinous that deserve death.

Back to Rhoades: they were grisly murders and I'm not going to go into detail about them here. I ache for the families that had to endure the pain of knowing their loved one had been terrorized and in pain before dying. I feel so sorry that these innocent, young lives were cut short by a sadistic, psychotic druggie. What would they be doing now, I wonder? Rhoades has been sitting in jail, eating and getting fat, for free, for twenty-four years. They knew he was the serial killer they were looking for when they caught him. There was a comment on our local news' website that said something like, "Justice was served when they caught him." I heartily disagreed with that.

I don't want to go into much detail on whether I'm for or against gettin' the chair, but I did want to lay out a few thoughts I've had the past few days. Whether or not citizens of the USofA believe the death penalty is right, it comes down to the fact that many states (and other nations) have adopted it as a legal way to uphold the law. Thus, it is the states' responsibility to uphold the laws and punishments set forth. If you commit a crime, it's understood that there are certain repercussions for when you get caught. Execution has been deemed appropriate in many cases and it is the states' prerogative to carry it out.

Also, I believe that executions serve two purposes, both of which I will say I agree with. One: As awful as it sounds, it serves as retribution. Vengeance, revenge, whatever you want to call it. If you want to get down to the nitty-gritty, any form of punishment, whether it be incarceration, community service, or probation, is one form or another of retribution. Criminals forfeit their rights and, subsequently, owe society a debt when they break a law. Execution is, of course, the extreme and is maintained for certain horrible crimes. If I had lost a family member to someone like Rhoades I'm pretty sure I would want to see the criminal dead.

Actually, I'm 1000% sure.

Two: Execution removes the threat. While these criminals are alive there is always the possibility, however remote, that they will be free someday, somehow. A while ago, there were a few inmates from one of the prisons here in Idaho that escaped. Scar-ree. Inmate escapes happen more often than we care to think about and whether or not they're caught again is moot. Early probation is often given to criminals for good behavior, which means they're OUT, amongst the public. With serial killers, rapists, pedophiles, etc... there's the possibility that they will hurt someone else if they're not being supervised and behind bars. I believe that those sentenced to execution are done so in part because the jury believes them to be a threat to others if they remain alive.

Our justice system seems to have gone down the sad path of victimizing the criminals and trying to make the victims into they-had-it-coming's. There are arguments and studies out everywhere for and against genetic predispositions to alcoholism, violence, and the like. This is another opinion I have no problem exerting: I think genetic predisposition is a crock of sh**. It all comes down to people have the CHOICE. We all have an instinctive buzzer inside us that tells us when we're committing wrong. Rhoades had the choice to kill or not kill (or rape, or maim) those innocent people. I can choose whether or not to snort that line, an abusive parent consciously makes the decision to harm their child.

It's all about self control. Lack of control brings consequences on all levels. I can't say I feel sorry for people whose lack of control harms others. They made the choice, and in doing so, chose their fate.

So... people can argue all they want about the death penalty being wrong or right. It doesn't matter. Our laws have deemed it legal (therefore, executions cannot be said to be illegal) and a proper consequence for certain actions. If you don't like it, move.

To Be or Not To Be... Lazy?

I think the fact that I haven't written in two months argues in behalf of TO BE. I had originally planned on writing twice a week for this blog so I could have something do for myself, that was just my own thoughts and opinions. Alas, time gets away from all of us, especially when we're busy NOT being lazy. There was an article in one of my magazines that inspired thoughts on this post. From Elder Robert D. Hales in the LDS church magazine The Ensign:

"I remember a young couple just out of college. One parent gave them a home; the other parent gave them furnishings and a new car. They had everything in the world given to them. Within three years they were divorced. They hadn't worked and sacrificed. They had leaned on each other and on their parents as a crutch, had crippled themselves, and hadn't grown. They hadn't learned the hard part."

I abhor laziness. I believe people should work to support themselves financially, mentally and physically. I don't believe in sitting in front of the TV; I don't agree with about 90% of the welfare system; I don't believe in others being obligated to fill your shoes as well as their own. This is an extreme. I acknowledge that there are always exceptions, however exceptions aren't normally made because of laziness. In fact, the only reason I can think of is an exception made due to a medical reason: disability, injury, old age, etc... The quote above started me thinking of everything I do for myself, by myself. I don't think that all situations in which people receive handouts are going to resolve themselves in something as extreme like divorce, but I do think that his quote rings true. If we don't work and learn the hard way, when will we learn?

For example, I babysit full-time. I took the job thinking it would be an easy way to work AND be lazy at the same time. I'd just let them play all day, provide some entertainment, snacks, tralala go home. It has proven not to be easy and conducive to laziness at all unfortunately. I digress... The kids I babysit are the youngest of 5. Their family dynamics are much different than ours. They play differently, talk differently, the works. Among this, they don't do much of anything for themselves. Their parents and siblings do absolutely EVERYTHING for them. Taking off shoes, cleaning up toys, using manners and the like are things we do on a normal basis at our house and I think it's been a bit of a culture shock for them. I MAKE them do things for themselves. I do not allow whining; I expect them to use their p's & q's; they speak to me respectfully; they do not fight and yell over toys. There are consequences for not handling yourself properly. I have seen major improvements in their demeanor since they've started at our house, the biggest thing is that they're more independent. I'm pretty sure they like doing things like big boys, all by themselves.

As adults it's the same process. We need to do things on our own to really learn the lesson. My mom has always said there are two kinds of people in this world: Givers and Takers. Givers are normally those who have learned their lessons on independence and seek to help those who are still learning, and those who enjoy giving for the enhancement of others and themselves. Takers, I've discovered, haven't quite gotten there. (Sometimes these personality traits are personality quirks, there's nothing we can do to change them, no matter the lessons learned or un-learned.) There is a balance between giving and taking, no one has to fall completely on one side or the other. My mom and I are both Givers. We feel uncomfortable taking because we're afraid it might inconvenience someone, or put them out, even when they're offering. It makes it hard for other Givers if we're always unwilling to accept what they want to give us. Slowly but surely, I have been trying to get better at taking. I am grateful for the Givers who have blessed my life. People who are constant Takers have the expectation that Givers are always going to be around. They expect that they can ask for what they want and take it, whether it be time, money, space, or other things. The extreme Givers feel obligated to meet this expectation.

I make a conscience effort to give via support. When I make the kids do something on their own that they haven't done before, I show them how and then encourage them from the sidelines, praising them when they've accomplished the feat. I think this could be replicated on all aspects of life. (I'm not trying to set myself up as a perfect mom or babysitter--I am far, far, far from that.) People will learn to support themselves through their hard times and come out stronger and wiser for it. They will like that feeling of independence and the satisfaction that comes from, "Yeah, I totally did that." And all us Givers can give them a high-five and slap on the back, tell them how proud we are, and welcome them to the club.

I Remember

Today is 10 years since the tragic events of September 11, 2001. I was 15 and a junior in high school. We found out in Seminary that something had happened in New York but we weren't quite sure what. By the time I got the first period at the high school the towers had collapsed and hundreds of people had already died. We watched TV all day and saw the timelines, the replays, photos, interviews, speculations.

I remembered we weren't even horrified yet... we were in such shock. It's hard for teenagers to understand something so tragic happening on the other side of the country. I think it finally sunk in when the body counts went into the thousands. We had been attacked in our own land, our free nation. I remember thinking, "War doesn't happen HERE, it happens everywhere else." News anchors kept calling it the "Pearl Harbor of our day."

I remember calling my mom at home from the payphone by the gym. I was terrified that Dad was going to be whisked off to war right away. I was scared that something was going to happen in Yuma. I'd been hearing rumors that Yuma was on the terrorist hit list because it's the location of Yuma Proving Ground and the Marine Corps Air Station. Yuma is also home to a very long runway that is an alternate site for the space shuttle landings. I was worried something was going to happen and I wouldn't have been able to be with my family again.

The news images are seared into my brain. The plane coming around the second tower and the collision. People throwing themselves out of windows. The towers collapsing while thousands were still trapped inside. The firemen and police officers rushing into the debris. People staggering out of the rubble coated in dust, soot, and blood. The flag.

Fred Child hosts Performance Today on NPR and I only ever listen if it happens to be on while I'm in the car. I was driving on Friday and he was doing a reminiscing piece about what went on at his radio station on 9/11. They were requested to play Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings to help America to mourn. It is a sad, melancholy piece. I cried in the car as they were playing it and remembering everything that happened a decade ago.

May God bless everyone who lost their lives and those who were left picking up the pieces.

May God bless the firemen, policemen, and all our servicemen.

May God bless America. This is His land.

Get a (Private) Room!

We decided to go on San Diego harbor cruise with my parents while we were visiting last month. It's kind of a cheesy, touristy thing to do but we had a good time nonetheless. So let me take you through it: You board the ship, get a complimentary glass of champagne (Martinelli's for us) and are seated. If you chose to pay extra during booking then you are seated at a window-side table for two, complete with special plates, champagne flutes, etc... We did not choose this option, so we were one table away from the windows in our cheapskate non-specially plated table. We shove off, the live band starts, socialization, appetizers, dinner, dancing, blah blah blah... It was fun for about five minutes until the man sitting across from us (at one of the "special" tables) moved his chair over and into the walkway so he could sit right next to his woman. PDA quickly followed (cue horror movie music). Obviously, this atmosphere lends itself to romance: pretty views, music and alcohol. Ah, love.

First, let me say that I believe in love. I believe that love is a positive and complex feeling that two people can have for each other. Physical affection is a natural byproduct that is necessary to propel and maintain relationships. Affection and sex are crucial for successful marriages. I believe these manifestations of love are special, private matters between the couple (unless, of course, there's problems that need to be discussed with professionals, but that's another topic). That being said, public displays of affection should, I think, be limited. Stifled? No. Just...limited. Holding hands, a peck here and there, little things that don't make others uncomfortable.

Let me go into detail about the PDA that grosses me out, specifically what we had to witness ALL NIGHT during our harbor cruise: making out for prolonged periods of time (more than three seconds); ear nibbling; sitting on laps (include arms around the other's neck for double gross-out); foot massages (bare feet in a food establishment?!); butt grabbing; cheesy "come-hither-just-wait-til-later" looks; seductive licking of the lips; the list goes on. When we first sat next to this couple we knew immediately that they were in love by the way they were, er, showing their affection. We thought they'd settle down after a few minutes.

Nope!!

We got to watch them all night, as they were sitting right in front of the window that was in our line of vision. So we stared, shot dirty glances, quit muffling our giggles and comments. This couple wasn't the only one on the cruise feeling a little frisky, however they were the most forward and long-lasting. By the end of the cruise she was hiccuping champagne bubbles and tried to shove her way in front of me to disembark. I took my opportunity to shove her back and stalked off the boat in front of her--without my husband. Oops.

Another funny story: There were two other couples getting married at the same time as Jason and me. We're all sitting and waiting for our marry-ers to come get us to start each of our own ceremonies. Jason and I are sitting on a couch holding hands and talking quietly. I don't know remember what couple #2 was doing, though I do remember they were very quiet and sitting rather stiffly. Couple #3 was on the other side of the room. She was sitting in one of the armchairs with her dress all fanned out around her; he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. They were staring fervently into each other's eyes and clasping hands so tightly I thought I could hear knuckles popping. Jason and I watched them for a while and they NEVER moved! They stared and stared and stared at each other with such a look of sappiness I will never forget it. It grossed me out and we will always have it as one of our wedding day memories. This isn't quite the kind of PDA I was describing before, but it was equally as disturbing--in a funny, I'm-always-going-to-make-fun-of-them sort of way.

Moral of the story: you now have a very clear idea of my take on PDA. The fact that I have written two articles about it (I wrote one in college that was actually quite funny--I think) tells you it's something that I've seen and thought about probably more that I should have. One more opinion from me you didn't ask for.

The Sum of All Fears

A not-so-funny-to-me-but-funny-to-everyone-else-incident inspired this post last night. We had just gotten Troy to bed and were settling down to finish a movie in the basement (where our TV lives). I was sitting on the floor in a banana chair and Jason was in the big chaise lounger. Here I am minding my own business, trying to watch the rest of Robert Downey Jr.'s Sherlock Holmes performance, enjoying myself... and out scuttles a HUGE hobo spider from under the TV stand. All I can do is take two hyperventilating gasps and point at it while jumping onto the computer chair and gasping, "Right there!"

**ALERT! ALERT!** Right now, at this very moment, while I'm typing--right now! out races another gargantuan hobo!!! From under the computer desk, where my feet have been! It just made a beeline towards my baby's feet. I grabbed the first thing I could find (Troy's Little Einstein DVD case) pushed Troy out of the way and whacked the life out of it. I grabbed Troy and whatever else I could carry and we ran upstairs, never to return. The carcass is still smushed into the floor. That'll be Jason's job when he gets up, as I'm still shaking too badly to do much. **END OF ALERT**

Anyway, Jason, always my knight in bug-killing armor, armed with the shoe of vengeance and wadded tissue of death, immediately knows what I'm freaking out about and moves deftly into action. (I believe he used the same DVD case I just did). One more spider put out of my misery and flushed, never to show its arachnid legginess again.

There are poisonous spiders everywhere and I'm scared, borderline phobic, of all of them. However, I am particularly disturbed by hobos. They look like this:

Even searching online and saving this picture has made my heart rate skyrocket and made me want to blow chunks. These effers are aggressive, fast, poisonous, and exceptionally sinister looking. I do not go anywhere in my house without scanning the floor, walls and ceiling for creepy crawlies. There are certain places in our basement storage room that I don't even go near for fear of seeing (and subsequently having to do battle with) bugs. Every little tickle on my skin, shadow, or inconsistent groove in the carpet is a potential spider. I spray the inside and outside of my home with anti-bug poison religiously and after these two encounters I will be re-spraying and also throwing a bug bomb down in the basement tonight.

The fact that I have a physical reaction to these creatures leads me to believe that I'm not just being girly about bugs. I hyperventilate, my heart rate goes through the roof, I get sick to my stomach, my eyes tear up, my arms and hands tremble for many minutes after encounters... I can't even pick up and dispose of dead bugs. Jason is such a gentleman to never tease me about my fear or to wave the dead ones in front of my face. I appreciate this so much. I'm not a fearful person; I'm a bit of a thrill seeker to be honest, but we're all allowed our one thing. Spiders and a few other choice creepies are mine. After the one making out to eat my son's foot a minute ago--this means war. Or avoidance, whichever keeps them away from me and mine.

Space: The-Final-Frontier-in-a-Galaxy-Far-Far-Away-Danger-Will-Robinson!

With the launch of the last shuttle up to space the other day, there's something that came to me that Jason's been saying for months now. Given the current state of our economy, and the world economy for that matter, Jason keeps saying, (imagine semi-yelling and a few fist pounds) "If I were in charge, the first thing I'd do is scrap NASA!" My first instinct was, "No! NASA's in charge of space!" Since then, when it's brought up, I've tended to flip-flop around on my opinion, as I'm sure I'll do here.

Against NASA: It doesn't really do anything. When's the last time the discoveries about the nature of space have helped us here at home? Has that red dwarf millions of light-years away told us how to better harness our natural resources? Have sunspots spelled out a secret way to end child hunger? Did the pluto-ing of Pluto help midgets feel taller? What I'm getting at is that the funds alloted to NASA (which is A LOT!) could be put to much better use here on our home planet. Money spent on researching black holes and dying stars should be put towards the federal deficit, into (necessary) committees that have been nixed, help to lower taxes, or into education, for example.

For NASA: But space is cool...

Against NASA: It's not like were in an arms race with the Soviets anymore. Who are we competing with, and why are we competing in space? Americans have already proved that we're better and ballsier than everyone else--many times over.

For NASA: But space is cool.

Against NASA: Who wants rocket scientists to make money actually working on rockets?! Put them to work elsewhere; somewhere that will benefit other earth-bound organizations. With all my sarcasm, I honestly have no idea where a rocket scientist would work. In the automotive industry designing cool, futuristic cars? Teaching about rocket science as a lost art in community colleges? Government energy programs? Who knows... In all my infinite compassion, I don't give a hoot where they'd work. I'm sure someone else will figure that out.

For NASA: Space is coooooooooool!!! I took an Astronomy 101 class in college and, while I didn't enjoy all that math stuff, I learned a lot about the awesome things that happen in space. Dying stars, galaxies, gaseous nebulas... All things that give us a glimpse of God's awe-inspiring creations. We recently attended a photography presentation of collages taken by Hubble. It was ama-za-zing! Huge systems billions of miles away, millions of galaxies in one snapshot, the colors, the energy, all those molecular interactions caught by a human-made telescope. It's humbling to see how truly small we are.

Considering the great Classic-style debate we've just taken part in, I have some solutions. They shall be implemented straight away, saith the Great Liz.

1. Scrap most of NASA. Get rid of the shuttle programs (done!). Unfortuately the cool profession that about 47% of kids growing want to be some day, astronauts, will become almost obsolete.
2. Keep overseers/maintainers/regulators for the satellites in orbit.
3. Keep a committee of people in charge of making sure asteroids aren't going Armageddon all up in our bizness.
4. Keep Hubble to take cool pics, but decrease the number of astronomists to analyze all the deep space happenings. Things happening that far away aren't affecting the needs of Earth at this point in time.
5. Keep the "aeronautics" part to help us become even more efficient while buzzing around on our little blue marble.

My point! Focus on the needs of those who live here on Earth! Spending millions and billions of dollars out there that could be spent here would be nothing but beneficial. But remember--space is cool. And I'm totally okay if they decide to keep programs, albeit on a smaller scale, to further our knowledge of the universe. This is a topic easily debated... please, discuss.

I Want to Live HERE:

And I want to live here FOREVER.

...With lots of money, a good tan, and a drink with one of those tiny umbrellas in it.