This is from a young physician by the name of Dr. Starner Jones. His short two-paragraph letter to the White House accurately puts the blame on a “Culture Crisis” instead of a “Health Care Crisis”.
Dear Mr. President:
During my shift in the Emergency Room last night, I had the pleasure of evaluating a patient whose smile revealed an expensive shiny gold tooth, whose body was adorned with a wide assortment of elaborate and costly tattoos, who wore a very expensive brand of tennis shoes and who chatted on a new cellular telephone equipped with a popular R&B ring tone. While glancing over her patient chart, I happened to notice that her payer status was listed as “Medicaid”! During my examination of her, the patient informed me that she smokes more than one costly pack of cigarettes every day and somehow still has money to buy pretzels and beer.
And, you and our Congress expect me to pay for this woman’s health care? I contend that our nation’s “health care crisis” is not the result of a shortage of quality hospitals, doctors or nurses. Rather, it is the result of a “crisis of culture”, a culture in which it is perfectly acceptable to spend money on luxuries and vices while refusing to take care of one’s self or, heaven forbid, purchase health insurance. It is a culture based on the irresponsible credo that “I can do whatever I want to because someone else will always take care of me.”
Once you fix this “culture crisis” that rewards irresponsibility and dependency, you’ll be amazed at how quickly our nation’s health care difficulties will disappear.
STARNER JONES, MD
If you doubt any part of what Dr. Jones says, go visit your local hospital emergency room as an observer for an hour or so some Friday or Saturday night.
The next time you hear a politician use the
word ‘billion’ in a casual manner, think about
whether you want the ‘politicians’ spending YOUR tax money.
A billion is a difficult number to comprehend,
But one advertising agency did a good job of
Putting that figure into some perspective in
One of its releases.
A billion seconds ago it was 1959.
A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.
A billion hours ago our ancestors were
Living in the Stone Age.
A billion days ago no-one walked on the earth on two feet.
A billion dollars ago was only
8 hours and 20 minutes,
At the rate our government
Is spending it.
I hope you get a kick out of this one. (I don’t care what party you like, this one’s funny!!)
A republican, in a wheelchair, entered a restaurant one afternoon and asked the waitress for a cup of coffee. The Republican looked across the restaurant and asked, “Is that Jesus sitting over there?” The waitress nodded “yes,” so the Republican requested that she give Jesus a cup of coffee, on him.
The next patron was a Libertarian, with a hunched back. He shuffled over to a booth, painfully sat down, and asked the waitress for a hot cup of tea. He also glanced across the restaurant and asked, “Is that Jesus over there? The waitress nodded and the Libertarian asked her to give Jesus a cup of hot tea, “My treat.”
The third patron to come into the restaurant was a Democrat on crutches. He hobbled over to a booth and hollered, “Hey there honey! How’s about getting me a cold mug of Miller Lite?” He too looked across the restaurant and asked, “Isn’t that Jesus boy over there?” The waitress nodded, so the Democrat directed her to give Jesus a cold beer. “On my bill,” he said loudly.
As Jesus got up to leave, he passed the Republican, touched him and said, “For your kindness, you are healed.” The Republican felt the strength come back into his legs, got up, and danced a jig out the door.
Jesus passed by the Libertarian, touched him and said, “For your kindness, you are healed.” The Libertarian felt his back straightening up and he raised his hands, praised the Lord, and did a series of back flips out the door.
The, Jesus walked towards the Democrat, just smiling. The Democrat jumped up and yelled, “Don’t touch me! I’m on disability!”
Checking out at the store, the young cashier suggested to the older woman, that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.
The woman apologized and explained, “We didn’t have this green thing back in my earlier days.” The clerk said, “That’s our problem today. Your generation did not care enough to save our environment for future generations.” She was right — our generation didn’t have the green thing in its day.
Back then, we returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled. But we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.
Grocery stores bagged our groceries in brown paper bags, that we reused for numerous things, most memorable besides household garbage bags, was the use of brown paper bags as book covers for our school books. This was to ensure that public property, (the books provided for our use by the school) was not defaced by our scribblings. Then we were able to personalize our books. But too bad we didn’t do the green thing back then.
We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building. We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks. But she was right. We didn’t have the green thing in our day.
Back then, we washed the baby’s diapers because we didn’t have the throw-away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts — wind and solar power really did dry our clothes back in our early days. Kids got hand-me-down clothes from their brothers or sisters, not always brand-new clothing. But that young lady is right; we didn’t have the green thing back in our day.
Back then, we had one TV, or radio, in the house — not a TV in every room. And the TV had a small screen the size of a handkerchief (remember them?), not a screen the size of the state of Montana . In the kitchen, we blended and stirred by hand. When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used wadded up old newspapers to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap. Back then, we didn’t fire up an engine and burn gasoline just to cut the lawn. We used a push mower that ran on human power. We exercised by working so we didn’t need to go to a health club to run on treadmills that operate on electricity. But she’s right; we didn’t have the green thing back then.
We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water. We refilled writing pens
with ink instead of buying a new pen, and we replaced the razor blades in a razor instead of throwing away the whole razor just because the blade got dull. But we didn’t have the green thing back then.
Kids rode their bikes to school or walked instead of turning their moms into a 24-hour taxi service. We had one electrical outlet in a room, not an entire bank of sockets to power a dozen appliances. And we didn’t need a computerized gadget to receive a signal beamed from satellites 2,000 miles out in space to find the nearest burger joint.
The current generation laments how wasteful we old folks were just because we didn’t have the green thing back then?
I was thinking about how a status symbol of today is those cell phones that everyone has clipped onto their belt or purse. I seldom need one. So, I’m wearing my garage door opener. I also made a cover for my hearing aid and now I have what they call blue teeth, I think.
You know, I spent a fortune on deodorant before I realized that people didn’t like me anyway.
I was thinking that women should put pictures of missing husbands on beer cans!
I was thinking about old age and decided that old age is ‘when you still have something on the ball, but you are just too tired to bounce it.’
I thought about making a fitness movie for folks my age, and call it ‘Pumping Rust’.
I’ve gotten that dreaded furniture disease. That’s when your chest is falling into your drawers!
When people see a cat’s litter box, they always say, ‘Oh, have you got a cat?’ Just once I want to say, ‘No, it’s for company!’
Employment application blanks always ask who is to be notified in case of an emergency. I think you should write, ‘A Good Doctor’!
I was thinking about how people seem to read the Bible a whole lot more as they get older. Then, it dawned on me, they were cramming for their finals.
As for me, I’m just hoping God grades on the curve.
Dear Family and Friends,
I write to you knowing time is valuable and minutes spent cannot be returned. As you all know we are at a critical crossroad in our lives and the lives of our children and grandchildren and moreover in our country. So with that said I want to ask you for a few minutes of that valuable time to share with you something from my heart.
I am a proud skilled tradesman and have been a member of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers for 35 years. I have a long heritage of union membership in my family. My grandfather was a member of the United Auto Workers Union, my father was a member of the Postal Workers Union, an uncle was a member of the Communications Workers of America, another uncle was a member of the Carpenters Union and another uncle was a member of the Plumbers and Pipefitters Union and finally my son is a member if the IBEW.
50 years ago trade unions and other municipal worker unions comprised around 35 to 40% of the workers in America. Today that has fallen to 11.9%. My union says vote my pocketbook. Not God, Glory and Guns. Why now such a strong voice from so few?
Today the Lesbian and Gay population of the United States according to one study is 1.7%. This group of Americans say they want equal rights. Why such a strong voice from so few?
The most recent Census shows minorities account for 36.6% of the population. Also note that 50.4% rate of all children born in the United States are minority. This group of American says they want equal rights and their political party says they are entitled to more than what is equal. A very strong voice from many.
According to a recent survey 41% of Americans are pro-choice. This group of Americans says it is alright to kill a person at the very earliest stages of life. A very strong voice.
Total all these together and you have 91.2% of the population that the Democratic Party claims to represent. Now we all know that these groups overlap so the 91.2% is not the real percentage, but the Democratic Party wants you to think so. It is actually about 42 to 46%.
Let’s go one step further. Last year Gallup estimated the American Evangelical population was at 41%. Why are Evangelicals perceived as religious wackos? Why such a weak voice?
The same poll that gave the pro-choice percentage also stated that 50% of the American population is Pro-Life. Why are Pro-Life supporters far right wingers who want to invade someone’s right? A child in the womb has no voice so someone has to speak up for the child’s right. Why such a weak voice?
Gallup polled Americans and 42% of them own guns. But why does owning a gun make you a wacko? A strong voice.
98% of Americans are Heterosexual. Why is this so wrong or is it? A weak voice?
Demonizing the left or the right is not the principles on which our forefathers built this great country. They built if for a refuge from this very tyranny that we see now. This is not healthy dialogue it is a slap in our forefather’s faces.
My union and the unions that my families were members of, the American population that calls itself members of the Democratic Party aren’t entitled to anything that our beloved Declaration of Independence and our Constitution does not already grant. Moreover the Declaration of Independence clearly states:
“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from consent of the governed, That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”
Let me ask you these questions:
*What makes it wrong to believe in a God that is the creator of Life as so eloquently acknowledged in the beginning sentences of our Declaration of Independence?
*What makes it wrong for a man or women to be successful?
*What makes it wrong for a heterosexual couple to be married for 50 or more years.
*What makes it wrong to defend another human beings life no matter the age?
*What makes it wrong to bear arms and defend your life and the life’s of your family?
Family and friends as The Declaration of Independence states our leaders powers are given to them by our consent (election) and when the government becomes destructive we have a right to alter it and institute a new government that will provide Safety and Happiness. For the last few years there has not been a sense of Safety and Happiness in this great land so I say it is time to alter our government and exercise our rights given to us in our Great Constitution. The way we do that is very simple GO VOTE for the leaders who best represent your morals and your ethics and most of all leaders who honor God.
We cannot let our children and grandchildren down. We will have to answer one day to that Creator of life. So what will you do?
Therefore I will look unto the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation: my God will hear me.
Please PRAY and Vote.
- You cannot legislate the poor into prosperity by legislating the wealthy out of prosperity.
- What one person receives without working for, another person must work for without receiving.
- The government cannot give to anybody anything that the government does not first take from somebody else.
- You cannot multiply wealth by dividing it.
- When half of the people get the idea that they do not have to work because the other half is going to take care of them; and when the other half gets the idea that it does no good to work because somebody else is going to get what they work for, that is the beginning of the end of any nation.
Billy Graham is now 92 years-old with Parkinson’s disease.
In January, leaders in Charlotte, North Carolina, invited their favorite son, Billy Graham, to a luncheon in his honor. Billy initially hesitated to accept the invitation because he struggles with Parkinson’s disease. But the Charlotte leaders said, ‘We don’t expect a major address.
Just come and let us honor you.’ So he agreed.
After wonderful things were said about him, Dr. Graham stepped to the rostrum, looked at the crowd, and said, “I’m reminded today of Albert Einstein, the great physicist who this month
has been honored by Time magazine as the Man of the Century.
Einstein was once traveling from Princeton on a train when the conductor came down the
aisle, punching the tickets of every passenger. When he came to Einstein, Einstein reached in his vest pocket. He couldn’t find his ticket, so he reached in his trouser pockets.
It wasn’t there.
He looked in his briefcase but couldn’t find it. Then he looked in the seat beside him. He still couldn’t find it. “The conductor said, ‘Dr. Einstein, I know who you are.. We all know who you are. I’m sure you bought a ticket. Don’t worry about it.’
“Einstein nodded appreciatively. The conductor continued down the aisle punching tickets. As he was ready to move to the next car, he turned around and saw the great physicist down on his hands and knees looking under his seat for his ticket.
“The conductor rushed back and said, ‘Dr. Einstein, Dr. Einstein, don’t worry, I know who you are; no problem. You don’t need a ticket. I’m sure you bought one.’
Einstein looked at him and said, “Young man, I too, know who I am. What I don’t know is where I’m going.” Having said that Billy Graham continued, “See the suit I’m wearing? It’s a brand new suit.
My children, and my grandchildren are telling me I’ve gotten a little slovenly in my old age. I used to be a bit more fastidious. So I went out and bought a new suit for this luncheon and one more occasion. You know what that occasion is? This is the suit in which I’ll be buried.
But when you hear I’m dead, I don’t want you to immediately remember the suit I’m wearing. I want you to remember this: “I not only know who I am. I also know where I’m going.”
“May your troubles be less, your blessings more, and may nothing but happiness, come through your door. Life without God is like an unsharpened pencil – it has no point.”
Amen & Peace My Friends
I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn’t hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 57 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories. He often came with me and almost every time he’d pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I’d always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands. He knew I loved roses. With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since he had passed on. Shopping for one took time, a little more thought that it had for two. Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and remembered how he had loved his steak. Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blonde, slim and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large package of T-bones, dropped them in her basket, hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks. She saw me watching her and smiled. ‘My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don’t know.’ I swallowed the emotions down my throat and met her pale eyes. ‘My husband passed away eight days ago,’ I told her. Glancing at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. ‘Buy him the steaks and cherish every moment you have together.’ She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away. I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products. There I stood; trying to decide which size milk I should buy. A quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone. I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front. I saw first the green suit, the recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen! I would swear a soft halo encircled her blonde hair as she kept walking toward me, her eyes holding mine. As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes. ‘These are for you,’ she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. ‘When you go through the line, they will know these are paid for.’ She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again. I wanted to tell her what she’d done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know? Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn’t alone. Oh, you haven’t forgotten about me have you? I whispered with tears in my eyes. He was still with me and she was his angel. Thank you Lord for my family. There are many who are lonely. Even though I grumble and bemoan my fate from day to day and wish my circumstances were not so modest. Thank you, Lord, for life.
When I say that “I am a Christian,” I am not shouting that “I am clean living.” I’m whispering “I was lost, but now I’m found and forgiven.”
When I say “I am a Christian,” I don’t speak of this with pride. I’m confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide.
When I say “I am a Christian,” I’m not trying to be strong. I’m professing that I’m weak and need His strength to carry on.
When I say, I am a Christian,” I’m not bragging of success. I’m admitting I have failed and need God to clean my mess.
When I say “I am a Christian,” I’m not claiming to be perfect. My flaws are far too visible, but God believes I am worth it.
When I say “I am a Christian,” I still feel the sting of pain. I have my share of heartaches, so I call upon His name.
When I say, “I am a Christian,” I’m not holier than thou. I’m just a simple sinner who received God’s good grace, somehow!
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