Saturday, March 22, 2025

Angels

Recently, I had a visit from three celestial beings and I blogged about it here. There was one thing I omitted from that blog post. 

As a person ages, there are things he is able to do, and there are things that he can no longer do. When those things — the things we can no longer do — disappear from our lives, I think most people just move on. There's little that a person can do about it. It's a part of life.

As for me, I moved on. But after the angels visited me, I discovered that something that I lost six years ago had returned to me. It should not have been possible, and after four days it disappeared again. Perhaps the angels had intended to give me a gift or perhaps it was just a side effect of their "energy" and their presence and proximity to me. Maybe it was "all of the above".

So what can angels do, besides visit us in the middle of the night?  According to many religious traditions, God can and does send angels to deliver messages or minister to people, and some believe they can also be present to protect and guide individuals.

I've always felt that my life has been protected, either by angels, or by unseen spirits intervening at critical times. I feel like I've been guided at times into paths that turned out to be much more beneficial than I would have predicted. Maybe angels do that for everyone, but I know I might be dead by now, were it not for good luck, or karma, or serendipity. This is especially true for my younger days. I believe I had an angel, or several angels, watching over me. Maybe there was a purpose to my life. I don't know if I accomplished my purpose, or whether it still lies ahead of me. I guess there will come a day when everything is explained and I'll have my answers. As will all of us.

Saturday, March 1, 2025

Red Flags

Today (March 1) there is a "red flag warning" by the National Weather Service. I don't know what a red flag warning is supposed to mean but it doesn't sound friendly.

Today is sunny and 70 degrees (F) in my hometown. Tomorrow, the high temperature will be 45 degrees. Welcome to Virginia in springtime. 

I'm very worried about my housemate Nuria. She's Costa Rican. We used to chat on Skype, and then she decided to visit me. She had a tourist visa, which has to be renewed periodically. So she came to visit me two or three times, then I found that she could apply for a visa based on the fact that she is a widow of a US citizen. She filled out the paperwork, but the paperwork seemed endless and grew more complicated as time went by.

Eventually, we hired a law firm in Chicago to assist us. For a while, all went well. Then the law firm made a mistake and failed to provide a document that Immigration had requested. When that happened, Immigration sent Nuria a letter telling her that she had 33 days to leave the country. I think the last day for her to be here legally is March 16, 2025. That's two weeks away. After that date, if she is still in the US, she will be here illegally. She won't do that, nor should she.

I suggested that she and I should get married. But her current application is based on her being a widow, and she has not exhausted that application yet. She obtained another law firm and they are working on her case. So we have to see the outcome of that, which will be in two weeks. As I mentioned.

But being married to a US citizen does not give a non-citizen the right to stay in America. Based on Hollywood movies and TV shows, I always thought that it did, but it doesn't. Even if we marry, she can still be deported. So I don't know what is going to happen.

Nuria works at a local Macy's store. When she advised the store manager of her situation, Macy's terminated her employment immediately, giving her March 4 as her last day with Macy's. This has the added effect of stripping her of her severance pay, which she would have received had she worked at Macy's until the end of March when the store closes permanently.

I'll let you know what happens. 

Saturday, February 15, 2025

The System Breaks Down

My previous blog post described a nocturnal visit by three supernatural beings I described as angels. I didn't know that for a fact, but I thought it was the likeliest explanation. I ended my blog post by asking, "Angels are supposed to be messengers. So what was the message?"  I may now have an answer.

Yesterday Nuria received a letter from Customs and Immigration. Her application for a green card has been denied and she has 33 days to leave the country.

Nuria has been completing and filing immigratioin forms for three years. We paid a Chicago law firm $5000 to assist us. And now she is denied residency.

The denial is based on an error. The government is basing it on their perception that Nuria served on a jury while she lived in Roanoke, Virginia. But that is not true. The fact is that Nuria was summoned for jury duty and by state law she had to go to court or face a fine and/or jail time. But Nuria never served on the jury. She appeared in court at the specified time and the judge asked her some questions. When the judge discovered that Nuria not only knew but was a friend of the key witness in the case, the judge dismissed Nuria and she went home. Nuria was never a juror on that or any other case.

This denial might be possible to unravel, given enough time and money for legal expenses. But there is uncertainty. I won't live long without Nuria. My health is getting poorer. Nuria's help has been keeping me alive. Without her, I will give up quickly.

Work three years on paperwork, spend $5000 on lawyers, and get turned away by a mistake in the system. Welcome to America, Nuria.

Friday, February 14, 2025

Three Visitors

This will sound impossible, and I would agree, except it happened to me.

I've been ill for about the past week. Just a malaise -- feeling unwell, unable to eat. If I eat food or drink it comes back up right away. 

I've been having a lot of insomnia recently. I'll lie in bed awake all night. Then, near sunrise, I'll go to sleep for about 90 minutes. I asked my doctor for something to help me sleep and she said, "No". 

So on this night I was awake as usual. Nuria was beside me but she was asleep. Then I heard a noise in the hallway. I thought, "I have intruders, and I have a gun for self-protection, but I'll never get to it and load it before the intruders find me."

I only had time for that thought before a woman walked into the room. My bedroom has a nightlight, so I could see her. She had blond hair, a light-color top, and a dark-color skirt. She appeared to be in her late twenties and she was very pretty. She stopped at the foot of my bed and stood there smiling at me for 10 or 20 seconds. I was speechless. 

At one point she put out her hand, reaching close to my left leg, and then she withdrew her hand and put it close to her left breast for a few seconds. Then she turned and walked out of the room. Immediately a dark-haired woman entered the room. Like the first woman, she was very pretty and she was smiling at me. She stopped at the foot of my bed for 10 or 20 seconds. Let me emphasize that both of them had beautiful faces and beautiful smiles.

After they left the room, a man entered. He looked to be about 35 or 40 years old. He was dressed in work clothes and was wearing a dark-colored ball cap. He walked around my bed and stopped at the window beside my bed. He stood there for a few seconds, and appeared to be examining the curtains at the window. I finally asked, "Who are you?" He turned and looked at me as if noticing me for the first time. He was not smiling. His expression was somewhat stern. After a few seconds he turned and left the room.

To say I was stunned would be accurate. After a few seconds I got out of bed and went to the front rooms, expecting to find a door open or a broken window, but everything was normal. There was no sign of entry.

I returned to bed and said to Nuria, "Nuria, we had people in the house." Nuria remained asleep. There was nothing more to do. I didn't even have evidence of their visit. I have no evidence it happened except my own memory.

Some people will say that it was a dream. To them I ask, "Do you not know the difference between a dream and reality after you awaken?" I've had many dreams, but after I awaken I remember what I dreamed and I know it was a dream. When I'm awake I know I'm awake. As you read this, do you think you may be dreaming? No, you don't; you know when you're awake.

My own belief is that they were angels. If there are angels, I don't believe they look like those pictures on religious books: wings and halos, etc. I believe they look like us "regular" people. But aren't angels supposed to be messengers? So what was the messsage? 

Memories

 “My very photogenic mother died in a freak accident (picnic, lightning) when I was three, and, save for a pocket of warmth in the darkest past, nothing of her subsists within the hollows and dells of memory, over which, if you can still stand my style (I am writing under observation), the sun of my infancy had set: surely, you all know those redolent remnants of day suspended, with the midges, about some hedge in bloom or suddenly entered and traversed by the rambler, at the bottom of a hill, in the summer dusk; a furry warmth, golden midges.”

― Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita 

That paragraph from Lolita speaks to me. My mother was photogenic (though there was no freak accident). I had my "pocket of warmth in the darkest past." I recall from my childhood "remnants of day suspended," and I still can see the midges in the air and smell fragrant honeysuckle entwined within the hedge.

I was born in 1946 in Jacksonville, in the state of Florida. My birth occurred a mere 81 years after the Civil War, and a mere 83 years after ratification of the 13th Amendment, which outlawed slavery. Those events -- slavery, the Civil War -- have always seemed like ancient history to me. Yet, the passage of time from the last day of slavery in America to the day of my birth amounts to only a single human lifetime.

My grandfather, my mother's father, was a quiet, easy-going man. He was born in 1884 in rural Virginia. Slavery still existed when his parents were born. I sometimes think about the impact of that evil institution on Caucasions of that day -- not slaveowners, but ordinary people: farmers, merchants, country folk, city folk. I think about how the attitudes, beliefs, and prejudices engendered during slavery have rippled down the years, affecting my grandfather's life, his daughter's life, my life. I am the third generation of my family to be born after the end of the era of slavery.

My grandmother, as I remember her, was a heavy-set woman with a nervous disposition. My grandparents were always elderly when I knew them, and yet they were somehow ageless. I thought they were probably born elderly and hadn't changed at all since birth. Grandmother read the Bible every day for an hour after lunch, which she called dinner. (The last meal of the day was supper. In olden days, the word "dinner" referred to the largest meal of the day, usually eaten at noon. No one used the word "lunch.") She was strict about not allowing profanity in her house. Uttering the word "darn" would bring me a reprimand. When I was 13 and 14 years old, I had a morning newspaper route, and after delivering papers I would often stop by her house and visit with her. She always prepared breakfast for me, which consisted of a tall stack of pancakes, butter, syrup, and bacon. (I ate as much as I could hold and never gained an ounce of weight.) She was an easily frightened woman, and after her death there was speculation in the family that her death may have been caused by some kind of nervous event that today would be called a panic attack, which might have precipitated a heart attack.

Those were the people who produced my mother. She was born in a slightly more enlightened era: 1916, a time when women still could not vote. (The 19th Amendment would not be passed until 1920.) Even as a boy I recognized that my mother was a very photogenic woman. She was pretty. She was, like her mother, a nervous woman who was easily frightened. Most of her immediate family did not understand her fright and had little patience with her. There were some who ridiculed her fright when it appeared.

My father was a hard-working, hard-drinking, often angry man, born in 1922 in the heart of Dixie: Alabama. He was a product of his milieu. He was a racist, but he wasn't a hater. He was never a hater. His racism involved the simple belief that Caucasions were superior to other races in certain respects. He never extrapolated that belief into an action against another person or another race.

For example, on one bright, summer day (I was living and working in Burlington, North Carolina then), I was visiting my parents in Virginia, and my father suggested the two of us drive to the countryside and stop at a certain Black church. My father worked with a man who was a deacon at that church and that is how my father had learned that the church's air conditioning had failed. My father was an air conditioning mechanic; I was an electrical engineer. He figured the two of us could get that a/c system working again. And we did. The repair was pro bono. My father neither asked for, nor expected, payment for the work. His reward was knowing that the people attending that church would no longer suffer in the midday heat. He repaired the church's air conditioner because in his mind it was the right thing to do.

One last anecdote: my father had hired a Black man to dig a hole in the backyard for an oil storage tank. They had finished the job and the Black man was leaving. He and my father were walking past the house and I could hear their conversation. The Black man said, "If you had a daughter and she dated a Black man, you would kill him. My father insisted that he would not. The Black man insisted my father would do it.

As they passed out of hearing, I heard my father say, "No, I wouldn't kill him, I'd kill her." They laughed and then they were gone.

My point is that a person can be a racist without being a hater. I suspect most people have forgotten that. You don't have to be a racist, but if you are a racist, then please try not to be a hater.

Thursday, February 6, 2025

Pajama Pants

My lady friend, Nuria (from Costa Rica), bought me pajama pants at Macy's (where she works). The pajama pants look like this:

Yeah. I thought so too. But I put them on and wore them. The next morning I was at my computer when I happened to look out one of my front windows and I saw one of my neighbors loading something into the trunk of his car. I don't remember what he was loading. What I do remember is: he was wearing the exact same pajama pants. The same pajama pants I had on. The same pants as in the picture. I don't fault him, the pants are very comfortable. I've been wearing blue jeans all these years, when I should have been wearing pajama pants. Now that pajama pants are fashionable, I wear them every day. Nuria bought me several pair -- different styles, of course. But I wear them in my house. Now the question I'm pondering is: dare I leave the house wearing pajama pants, as my neighbor does? Another question: if I'm making a statement, then what is the statement? 

Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Middle East

I just read this headline:

Trump's plan for U.S. to "take over" Gaza amid Israel-Hamas ceasefire rejected by allies and adversaries
Okay, I'll give the guy credit. Trump has finally united the world. Against the USA

Sure, Donald, dip your toes into a conflict that has been raging since 1948. You can solve those ancient animosities. Right? I mean, you're the Donald, after all. You can do anything. I bet you could jump out the top window of the Trump Tower, stretch out your arms, and fly like an eagle. Yes, you can do that. And you should...you know...do that

Getting involved in the Israel-Hamas conflict is something that all world leaders (including U.S. presidents) have managed to avoid. Okay, there was that Jimmy Carter thing, but his intentions were noble. Even though his Israel-Hamas deal was described by one editorial writer as a "deeply troubling aspect of his legacy." And the same writer described Carter as "an apologist for Hamas". Okay, nobody's perfect.

Jews and Arabs get along with each other in the USA. Don't they? Then why don't they get along with each other in the Middle East? Is there something in the water? I guess you have to be Jewish or Palestinian to really understand it.

I have a neighbor who is Egyptian. He seems to be a likable, hard-working fellow. I've spoken with him several times, but because of his strong accent, I can understand only half of his words. But I still speak with him. I listen to his words and try to understand him.

Maybe the leaders of Israel and Hamas are listening to their counterparts. But maybe, as with my Egyptian neighbor, they truly understand only half of what they are hearing.

To Succeed, You Must Try

This is how I got the reputation for being able to fix anything.

This morning, Nuria said to me, "My phone is broken. It won't turn on."

"Let me see it," I replied.

The phone was in one of those decorative cases. I removed the case from the phone. That didn't help. So I grasped the phone in both hands and gave it a little twist. The phone's screen lit up. I handed it back to Nuria.

"Try to call me."

She did, and the call went through to my phone. Her phone was working once more.

This is why some people feel that I can fix anything, as if I have a magic touch. No, sometimes I get lucky. Luck or not, you should always try. Do something. I thought, "Maybe this phone case is somehow putting pressure on a button and thereby preventing the phone from working." I didn't actually think it in all those words, it was more of a feeling. So I removed the case, but that didn't help. So I decided to twist the phone a little. It was really the only thing left to try. And that made the phone work again.

But why did it stop working to begin with? Who knows.

Saturday, January 25, 2025

Priorities

Maybe I'm simply cruel and unfeeling. I admit it's possible. But...

I saw a picture of a woman in a news story. The woman was upset that her "benefits" were being delayed, because she needed her benefits now to pay for food and rent.

The first thing I noticed about the woman was that she was obese. The second thing I noticed was that her body was covered with multiple tattoos.

To me, it seemed she could afford to lose her benefits for a few weeks. Maybe if she had put her money into a bank – or a piggy bank – instead of spending it on tattoos, she would have money now to pay for food and rent.  But she doesn't have money to pay for food and rent, because she used her money to buy tattoos and – well, you can't eat tattoos or pay rent with them.

This isn't about tattoos, its about priorities. What do you really need? What do you need but maybe not so much? What do you not need but would like to have? Food is a priority. A home is important, but not as essential as food and water. And so on. Tattoos are way down the priority list. But there are people who have spent their money on them and now they can't afford to buy food. They want you and I to buy their food by paying the taxes that fund those benefits. 

And we will fund those benefits, because it's the right thing to do, and we are the kind of people who want to do the right thing. But there's a fine line between doing the right thing and letting yourself be used. Sometimes the line is blurred. But as long as we have a choice, and as long as we are aware that we have a choice, then, I think, choosing to help others in those self-made situations is the humane thing to do.

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Tariffs

Donald Trump is still threatening to put "steep" tariffs on imports from China and Mexico. I think that many Americans misunderstand how tariffs work. China and Mexico will not pay these tariffs. Americans will pay the tariffs. 

A tariff is a tax on imported goods that is paid by the importer. The importer resells the goods on the American market. The imported goods become more expensive for the American company to purchase. Therefore, those goods must be sold at a higher price to recover the cost of the tariff. But because the American people are usually the ultimate buyer and user of the imported items, it is the American people who will ultimately bear the cost of the import duty.

In other words, if potatoes cost more to buy from a foreign potato grower, then those potatoes will cost more in the American grocery store.

Let's say you run a company in America that builds motorcycles. You want to buy the engines from a company in China that makes a very good engine that is cheaper than the engine you could buy from an American company. To keep your selling price low, you buy the engine from this Chinese company. Suppose the engine costs $1000. Then the U.S. government imposes a 100 percent tariff on that engine. Now you, the importer, have to pay $2000 for each engine. A thousand dollars goes to the Chinese manufacturer and another thousand dollars goes to U.S. Customs for the import duty.

Americans buy a lot of things that are made in China and Mexico. If Trump applies a 50% or 100% tariff to those imports, a lot of things Americans buy are going to cost a lot more.