School for Young Mayan Women in Guatemala

Young Mayan women taking a break from classes. 

Earlier this year I wrote about Sister Marife Hellman CPPS and her efforts to assist the poor women of Guatemala. As you may recall, Sister Marife, in 2007,  founded a boarding school for young Mayan women, and at the present time the school has an enrollment of 32 students who range in age from 14 to 25. Many of these students are from the outlying Mayan villages where there is no possibility for any advanced education for girls.

The two phases of the program include Basic Education( grades 7,8,&9) and the College Prep Program (10 & 11) after which the women receive what would be the equivalent of a high school diploma in the United State. They are then able to apply for University studies. I addition to math, science, language, social studies, art/music, Sister Marife has added classes in computer training, human development, and leadership training.

In addition to the scholastic education this school/living situation provides an opportunity for members of the various Mayan tribes to get acquainted, share their languages and cultures and grow in the ability to collaborate now and in the future. Their daily living situation requires them to help prepare the meals, clean the dishes, launder their clothing by hand, clean various areas of the school, and maintain their bunk beds.

Sister Marife, the young Mayan women,  and the Sisters of the Precious Blood are grateful to those of you who contributed last winter. If you or your friends would like to contribute at this time, Please send a check to:

Sisters of the Precious Blood
4000 Denlinger Rd.
Dayton, OH 45426-2399

On your check, please indicate that the donation is for: Sister Marife Hellman's School.
(In the interest of transparency, I am the brother of Sister Joyce Langhals CPPS and the proud grandfather of Adam Dempsey who was born in Guatemala.)

A few more photographs of the school (taken by Sister Joyce Langhals CPPS who visited Sister Marife in February, 2013):

1 photo

Laundry Duty

Computer time

Baking time

A bit of agriculture.

Tax Cheaters Claim to be Victims!

1960 Ford Thunderbird

      Since Buck and I have been traveling, it has been over a month since we had our weekly breakfast at Nick's Diner, and Buck was eager to resume his ordinary schedule. Sarah, seating us at our usual table, said, "So, you guys survived your travels, and now you've come back to harass me."

      "Wait a minute," Buck said. "I want to make it clear. We did not travel together. I couldn't stand to travel with that old coot. It's difficult enough having breakfast with him once a week."

      "Pleased to see your travels didn't improve your disposition," Sara said as she prepared to take our orders. "Will it be the usual or have your travels expanded your narrow horizons?"

      "Sarcasm is not becoming in a young lady, and yes I will have the usual," Buck replied.

      For my part, I said, "Unlike my friend here, my horizons have expanded. I will order what I'm naming 'Chick's Creation' in honor of my mother-in-law. It begins with a handful of shredded cheddar cheese in the bottom of a cereal bowl. The bowl is then filled with steaming hot grits, and the grits in turn are covered by two over-easy eggs. Now that's good eatin'."

      "Oh my," said Buck. "This guy spends some time on the wrong side of the Mason-Dixon Line, and he comes back thinking he's an expert on Southern Cuisine. Grits are nothing more than ground -up corn kernels -- a cheap substitute for potatoes. But, our friend here (he points in my direction) thinks he's discovered a delicacy."

      "'Chick's Creation' sounds good," said Sara. "I'll have to try it. Maybe Nick will put it on the new menu."

      "Not a chance!" Buck said. "Nick has higher standards." But, by now,  Sara was walking away.

      "Okay, Buck, I'm desperate to hear about your travel adventures," I suggest, knowing full well that I was going to hear about them, no matter what.

      "I'll tell you a travel adventure you won't believe. I drove all over the eastern part of the good ole USA in my Buick Century, and even though I usually exceeded the speed limit, not once was I stopped by a cop. And a couple days ago, back home in Toledo, I decide to take my 1960 Ford Thunderbird out of storage and give her a little time on the open highway. I'm driving down I-75, from Perrysburg toward Bowling Green, and I unleashed the horses. We were feeling our oats! The ole girl needed to stretch her muscles."

      "I wasn't worried," he continued. "There were several other cars going the same speed. But then, out of nowhere, a Highway Patrol car is behind me with red and blue lights flashing. I was tempted to take off and outrun the bum, but who knows these days with Homeland Security? They might send in an unmanned drone and blow me and my baby off the face of the earth. So I pulled off the side of the highway. The patrol car pulled up a safe distance behind me, and parked at an angle as though we were going to have a shoot-out."

      "Patrolwoman Sheila approached my car with her hand on her weapon. I think she was disappointed that I put my hands on the dash. No shoot-out today. She had to satisfy herself with the usual drivers license and registration procedure."

      "'Sir,' she said. 'I suppose you know you were travelling 90 miles per hour.'"

      "I patted the dash board and said, 'Atta girl. You still got it.' From then on the conversation deteriorated  When I tried to explain that there were other vehicles traveling the same speed and that it was an injustice to pick me out, she laughed and used the cop's favorite line, 'Tell it to the judge!' And you and I, my friend, know she picked me because I was driving a cool 1960 Thunderbird. If I had been driving my old Buick, she would have stopped the white Lexus."

      Although Sara brought us our breakfast orders, Buck wasn't finished. "And that's the same with this so-called controversy about the IRS and the Tea Party."

      "I beg your pardon?"

      "You know what I'm talking about. Tea Party groups wanted to establish 501 (C) (4)  accounts so they could spend millions of dollars on political campaigns without disclosing the identity of donors. The only problem is that the law says that money raised is to be used 'exclusively for the promotion of social welfare.' Not to finance negative political ads. With justification, the IRS was suspicious of organizations seeking tax-free status if they were closely affiliated with the Tea Party Movement."

      "True; they were flagged, just as I was flagged for driving a 1960 Thunderbird, and as Patrolman Sheila said to me, 'Tell it to the Judge.' The Tea Party groups were trying to break the law, and the IRS was justifiably suspicious. We know from the 2012 campaign that they were using large amounts of this 'dark money' for political advertising. I hate to see lawbreakers claiming to be victims."

Do I Have a Job for You

The job that pays for doing nothing.

Imagine this part-time job: you fly to work on Tuesday, work on Wednesday, fly home on Thursday. Your travel and airport parking is paid by the employer. You receive a salary of $174, 000 a year. You receive top-of-the-line medical insurance and a pension for life. You have multiple vacations with the result that you usually will work only 125 days a year, i.e. if you consider travel time working. This job (Those so employed prefer to refer to it as a "position" or "office.") also provides many other perks like free mail privileges and large staffs, but let it be known that there are many downsides to the job:

• outside people (sometimes referred to as lobbyists) who give you money and then tell you what to do.
• people back home expect you to care about their problems.
• people who helped you in the past  want you to get them a job with the "Company."
• pesky people (sometimes called the "Press') try to find out what you're actually doing.
• a guy named Grover Norquist will ask you to take an oath.
• the NRA will offer you a ton of money in exchange for your soul.
• banks who are "too big to fail" will offer you all sorts of advise.
• huge corporations will want you to play ball on their softball team.
• religious groups will seek your support for their "freedom" -- shorthand for "exemptions from Separation of Church and State."
• losers who think a a full time job at minimum wage should keep one from living in poverty
• women who want access to contraceptives.
• veterans who have the audacity to think they deserve a break.
• if you seek the "middle ground," your own tribe will devour you.
• if you mention "the common good," you're toast.

But, all in all, this is the perfect part-time job. After all, it's the job that makes John Boehner weep for joy and allows Eric Cantor to tell his Mommy, "I have a chauffeur!" Does it get any better than that? And remember, this is the one job in which you get paid for doing nothing.

Pope Missed the Boat

Pope Heading to Castel Gandolpho

"Benny 16 blew it.  The ex-pope had a chance to send a much-needed message with his retirement, but it apparently never occurred to him," said my friend, Buck, at our weekly breakfast get-together.

"What?"  I asked. "I thought being the first pope in 600 years to give up power was a positive sign."

"How he did it is the problem. He wants to be called Pope Emeritus, have his own private suite in the Vatican (protected from any external legal jurisdiction) and continue to wear the trappings of a pope, the white papal cassock and the red Prado shoes. While his suite in the Vatican is being decorated, the self-styled "pilgrim" flies off in a private helicopter to the Pope's summer residence, a castle outside of Rome, where a large staff will take care of his every need."

"Please. Give they guy a break," I said. "He's 85 years old, tired, and experiencing health issues. He did the right thing by retiring. What else do want from him?"

"All I'm saying is that he missed an opportunity to change the image of the Church. Instead of acting like some medieval monarch turning over the reigns of power and wealth, he could have exited more modestly. He could have replaced the white papal uniform with the simple black cassock that other priests wear, replaced the red papal shoes with sandals, and retired to a monastery dedicating the rest of his life to prayer and study."

"A bit harsh," I said.

"But, much more in tune with the Church's origins." Buck took a sip of coffee and continued, "I guess what's most disturbing about this is that the Pope and the Vatican politicians probably never considered an alternative way of doing it. Apparently, once a person, no matter his origin,  is exposed to the trappings of royalty, he becomes very comfortable with a grandiose lifestyle."

"You have a point there. It's difficult to recognize a connections to the Carpenter and a bunch of Jewish fishermen," I added, "but we Catholics have come to expect these royal trappings. If the English can support a monarch, I guess the largest Christian religion can do so."

"Not so fast there, my friend. England has a figurehead monarchy, but a democratic government. The English choose their leaders. In the Catholic Church, however, the average Catholic has no power, even though Vatican II spoke so elegantly of the Church as 'The People of God.'"

We had finished our breakfasts, and Sara was picking up our dishes. "Sara, my dear, you are a fine, young Catholic lady. What in your humble opinion is amiss with Catholicism?"

"For your information, my opinion is anything but humble, but the answer to your question is simple. The Catholic Church needs at least 60 female Cardinals."

Dunk Time

Not sure this is real, but I like it more than the regular NBA Dunk Contest.

Presumably a member of the Cleveland Cavaliers dance team dunks the ball during a break in a recent Cavaliers and Celtics game. ???

Life as a Waitress: Applebee's or Not

"Are you kidding me?"

      


      As evidenced by the ashes on his forehead, Buck had already attended Ash Wednesday services by the time we met for our weekly breakfast at Nick's Diner. Pointing to the ashes, I said, "I see you forgot to bathe again."

      "May a plague of locusts descend upon you and your progeny. For, as you know, my friend, sins of disrespect do not go unpunished."

      As we approached our favorite table, the one facing Bancroft Street and the golf course on the other side, our young, precocious waitress, Sara, was bringing coffee, and sporting smudged ashes on her forehead. "Oh no, not you too," I said. "Sack cloth and ashes! Spare me."

     "Ashes, but not sack cloth.  This little bitty skirt is not the least bit ascetic. I have the receipt to prove it."

      Buck could not restrain himself. "Ascetic? What's with that? That isn't a word waitresses use."

     "Meaning  waitresses are stupid?" she asked.

      Buck, who is usually adept at recovering from his impulsive statements, seemed to hesitate a moment before replying, "Not all, Sara. It was just a shock to hear the word, ascetic, come from the mouth of a beautiful young lass like yourself."

      "Self-serving flattery never worked before."

      "Of course, Forgive me. I hear you're doing well in your Shakespeare course."

      Sara laughed, " Buck, I would love to engage you in a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed."

      Just when I thought Buck was going to stomp out of the diner, he jumped out of his chair and high-fived Sara. "Perfect, you do know your Shakespeare!"

      Observing those around us enjoying Nick's creations, I tried to direct the conversation back to the business at hand, namely ordering food. " I would like the the Boston Breakfast, please." Sara, getting the hint, asked Buck for his order which was "The Classic."

      After Sara left to put in our orders, I asked, "So what are you giving up for Lent this year? As I recall, last year you gave up bungee-jumping -- without a bungee."

      "Very funny, my friend. Explain to me again why I continue to share breakfast with you."

      "Perhaps because I'm the only one who can tolerate you on a weekly basis. But seriously, what are you giving up for Lent this year?"

      "Having sex with alien life forms."

      "I see," I said. "I'm sorry to hear that your fantasy sex life has come to an end."

      "You 're a sick person. And I'm not telling you or anybody about my Lenten resolution."

      "Good plan," I said, "I like it. No one will know when you break it." At this point Sara was delivering our meals.

     "Sara," Buck asked, "are you familiar with the story of Applebee's restaurant that fired a waitress after she displayed on Facebook a comment by a religious minister who refused to give her  a  tip?"

      "Yes I am,  and  if you don't tip me,  I will rent a billboard with your picture and the words 'Buck is so cheap, he stiffs waitresses.'"

      "Take it easy. We're on your side. We know that you don't receive the minimum wage and depend on tips to  pay your tuition."

      " Did you watch President Obama's State of the Union speech Tuesday?" she asked. We both had.

"Then you know that a person who works full time for a year at the minimum wage will end the year below the poverty line. Then consider,  where does that leave waitresses and waiters who depend on tips to make up the difference?"

      We left an extra generous tip, thanking our lucky stars that our livelihood had not been tied to the so-called Minimum Wage.

Athletic Absurdities

Must be a Pro Tournament!

Having spent an inordinate number of hours this past weekend watching the Australian Open Tennis Tournament and the Torrey Pines golf tournament, I was reminded of the high level of silliness we viewers tolerate in televised sports.

• In Monday's final round of the Farmers Insurance Tournament at Torrey Pines, Tiger Woods and his group had to wait as long as ten minutes on many shots because of the slow play of the group ahead of them. And, this was not an isolated incident. Slow play has becomes a characteristic of professional golf. If I were playing at Ottawa Park and I left my ball in the middle of the fairway (not a likely location for my tee shot) and I walked up to the green to study the contour, one of my golfing partners would whack me on the side of the head with a three-iron. However, when Phil Mickelson does it in a pro tournament, no problem. Even chess players have a time limit. Pro golfers need to be penalized if they do not hit their next shot within an established reasonable time.
• Last week in the Australian Tennis Open in Melbourne, Victoria Azerenka was playing Sloane Stephens and had five match points that she lost. Upset and nervous (who wouldn't be? ) she called for a trainer and claimed to have two injuries. The doctor and trainer took her off the court for ten minutes or more to treat these injuries. Meanwhile, young Sloane Stephens had to wait for her opponent to return. Needless to say, Azerenka recovered the momentum and went on to win the match. This abuse of medical time-outs has been occurring for years now in both women's and men's tennis. It's time to eliminate it. If a player becomes injured, he or she should be given the choice of continuing to play injured or forfeiting the match. The integrity of tennis is threatened as much by "medical injury manipulation" as it is by drugs or "tanking."
• In college basketball, everyone seems to accept the the mysterious concept of "home-court advantage." Granted that there is a psychological boost in playing in a familiar setting in front of loyal fans, but those factors don't explain the lopsided statistics favoring the home team. One theory is that the home school fans influence the referees' decisions. It does appear that close calls -- charge or block -- tend to favor the home team.  Perhaps someone should study this.
• And then there is the National Football League. How do these guys become so large, strong and fast?  Are these gorillas just freaks of nature or are they assisting Mother Nature with chemistry? The NFL prohibits HGH (human growth hormone) but does not test for it. Do they expect us to believe these monsters are not using it simply because it is prohibited? If they take chances using drugs for which they will be tested, why would we think that they are not using HGH?  When performance-enhancing drugs are a problem in almost every other sport, does the NFL expect us to believe that their players are not using a substance that they do not bother testing for?

Speaking of sports and atrocities, I have few more items that irritate my back side:

• The names of the Big Ten divisions: the Leaders and Legends. The names are meaningless and most students and alumni don't know which teams are in which division. Perhaps with the addition of Maryland and Rutgers (another absurdity?), the league will develop more meaningful division names.
• While we are talking about names, permit me to say that the new name of the New Orleans NBA team, the New Orleans Pelicans, may be the worst team name of all time. I have nothing against pelicans, and I can appreciate the importance of pelicans to southern Louisiana, but it doesn't send the right image for an NBA team. I can understand the impulse to get rid of the "Hornets" name, but there must be something that says New Orleans better than "Pelicans."  Unfortunately, I do not have a better suggestion. It's too bad that the NBA team in Utah stole the name "Jazz."  That name belongs to New Orleans. Utah could find an historical Mormon name, perhaps "The Polygamists."

There are many other examples of silliness in sports, but I can't deal with them now. My imaginary girl friend is calling me. Gotta go.

How Losers Can Win: Change the Rules

GOP Wants to Change
the Rules

If a team can't win an important game on a level playing field, it probably needs to replace some of its players and coaches and definitely change  its game plan for the next contest. Most would consider such an approach as a logical consequence of a decisive loss.

But not the Republican Party. Although they recognize their welfare-for-the-wealthy philosophy is out of touch with that of mainstream America and also realize they are falling farther and farther behind on the demographic front, they are not considering changing their players, coaches or strategies. No sir.  The GOP wants "to fix" the game by changing the rules in such a way that the team with the low score wins the game, the minority controls the majority. (After all, that is the way it is at their exclusive country clubs. Low score wins.)

Precisely what the GOP has in mind is to change the way electoral votes are counted in some key swing states, but not all states. In states like Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and Florida, they want to prevent the states' electoral votes from going to the candidate who wins the most votes. They want the electoral votes to be divided based on congressional districts -- districts which due to two years of gerrymandering on their part assure the GOP of the most "safe" districts. Therefore, in a state like Ohio it would have been possible for Obama to win the popular vote, but lose in Electoral votes.

On the other hand, the GOP only wants to change the rules in a few hand-picked states. They want to keep the solidly "red" states as "winner-take-all" states. So much for fairness.

The American public should not be surprised by such GOP Machiavellian schemes. This is the party which tried to suppress the vote in the 2012 Presidential election by passing ID laws to solve a problem which even they had to admit did not exist, restricted early voting opportunities, and limited voting facilities thus forcing people to stand in line for hours to vote.

If they get away with this current attempt to game the system, what will these unscrupulous Republican scalawags come up next? Perhaps they will come up with even more egregiously undemocratic ideas:

• base the number of electoral votes on acreage rather than population. Alaska would have 16.5 electoral votes for every one vote Illinois would have.
• base the electoral votes on the number of assault weapons in a state.
• permit every multi-billionaire to have one electoral vote  each.
• give each state an extra electoral vote for every 20 Latino families they break up.
• give states, like Texas,  with the highest rate of executions extra electoral votes.

Ridiculous? Of course, but so are the GOP attempts to subvert the will of the people.

NFL Cheerleaders?

San Diego Cheerleader

In the interest of full transparency, I have never been known to object to scantily-clad, curvacious nymphs cavorting in exotic and erotic performances. And also, let it be known that I embrace the sobriquet of "dirty old man" enthusiastically.

That having been said, I am beseeching the Cleveland Browns and the other five NFL teams who lack "cheerleaders" to continue to do so. Please! And I am not even speaking of the obvious exploitation of the female figure. I am saying dancing girls have no place in a football setting. (And, I am talking about American football, all of you soccer fans. If you soccer guys want cheerleaders, I can see your point --anything to make an interminably long,  low-scoring game tolerable.)

Sorry girls. You are all quite attractive in your seductive uniforms (or lack thereof), but you do not belong on a football field. If you can kick a fifty-yard field goal ( and I am confident some women can),  you belong. But on the other hand, please don't do what these NFL linesmen do to become gorillas ( and again, I suspect you could do that too,  if you were that stupid).

The combination of pro-football violence and sexy dancing is not a good mix -- unless  of course you happen to be of a sado-masochistic bent. And if that is the case, most football fans are not interested. 

Professional football began in 1920 with a bunch of guys in the Midwest who wanted to bang heads with another bunch of guys. For them,  it was a way to spend a Sunday afternoon away from their regular jobs -- steel workers or meat packers. They never intended it to be glamorous  or pretty. They just wanted to bang a few heads, get paid a few bucks, and have a beer afterward before going back to work on Monday morning.

Obviously,  the NFL has come a long way from those days; but although the league has initiated   a rule book longer than "War and Peace," the game is basically the same. It is a violent confrontation of two forces determined to overpower and annihilate the other. Intelligent and attractive women should not be a part of such masculine insanity. As my wife and other women in my life have said, "Professional football is  not much different from gladiators killing each other in the Roman Coliseum." And in case you are wondering, there were no cheerleaders in the Coliseum.

Personally, I enjoy professional football and attractive women displaying their assets, but not together. Therefore, I urge the Chicago Bears, Cleveland Browns, Detroit Lions, Green Bay Packers, New York Giants, and Pittsburgh Steelers to refrain from the temptation to hire "cheerleaders."

Perhaps it is worth noting that all six of those teams without cheerleaders were original members of the NFL back in 1933 -- back in the day when football was football.

Buck's List for Congressman Latta

Our Dysfunctional Congress

"You want to know what is wrong with this country? Do you, really? I'll tell you. Today Republican Senator Marco Rubio (FL.)  proposed an immigration policy that is very similar to the one President Obama proposed. Rather than admitting he agrees with the President, Rubio presents a similar plan as his own. Rubio wants to run as a Republican for President in 2016. and God forbid he admit that he agrees with a Democratic President."

"In the present climate, a GOP candidate for any job from dogcatcher to President is doomed unless he/she is divisive. A Republican cannot be seen as someone who wants to keep the United States united.  Although Rubio may agree with the President on immigration policy, he does not have the political freedom to admit that. And that's what is wrong with this country.  Politics being what it has become, reasonable people do not have the opportunity to work together to serve 'the general welfare' of the country as required by the Constitution."

The above diatribe was that of my friend, Buck, even before we were seated for our weekly Wednesday breakfast.

"Sorry, Buck," I offered. "I didn't know I asked what was wrong with our country."

"Exactly," he said. "That's why we're friends.  I answer your questions before you even ask. My ex-wife had a problem with that, but after all these years, I know you're comfortable with my prescience."

"You call it prescience, I call it bullshit."

""Okay, you may be correct about that, but you have to agree that I have defined the sorry state of our nation's problems."

"Fine. Let's get a table and give Sara our breakfast order," I suggested.

"Of course," Buck said. "With you it's all about feeding your girth. Our country may be going to hell in a hand basket, but you're worried about seeing how many calories you can ingest in the least amount of time."

"We all have our life-defining goals. Right now, a good strong coffee is more important than Marco Rubio's run for the GOP nomination in the next presidential election."

"And you," Buck said as he pointed  a finger in the general direction of my chest. "You. You used to be an educator!  Did you teach your students that breakfast was more important than what was happening in Congress?"

"Don't ever," I said, pointing my finger at his chest, "underestimate the value of a good breakfast.  Who knows how history might have been changed by a good breakfast? What if Julius Caesar had remained at his villa and had a long, leisurely breakfast rather than rushing to the Forum where Brutus et al stabbed him to death?"

"Well, for one thing, William Shakespeare would have had one less tragedy to write about."

Sara had brought us our coffees and was waiting for our orders. Buck ordered the "Boston Breakfast" and suggested that I order the "Julius Caesar Special."

Apparently, Sara was not having a good morning. Walking away she said,  "I have real customers to help. When you decide on an actual menu item, let me know."

"So," Buck said to me, "I guess you're not a real customer. I, on the other hand, ordered an item off the menu, and that makes me real."

"You know, Buck, if I were carrying, I might be tempted to remove your sorry ass from the face of the earth."

"Right, another Clint Eastwood wannabe! It's been so long since you fired a weapon, you would probably hurt yourself more than me."

"Don't forget that eight-point buck I dropped a few years ago. Apparently I'm pretty good at taking out 'Bucks.'"

Sara had returned. "Are you guys ready to order or are you going to waste my time?"

Buck motioned for Sara to come closer as he whispered in her ear for everyone to hear, "You may want to phone Homeland Security. I think this guy is a suicidal terrorist or a crazed psychopath. He just threatened to kill me."

Not missing a beat, Sara leaned into Buck's face and said, "If you guys don't stop jerking me around, I'll kill the both of you and then apply for the Nobel Peace Prize."

Recognizing the  limits, Buck and I both ordered a breakfast off of Nick's menu.

"Back to our illustrious Congress," Buck said. "I suppose you know the citizenry rates the House of Representatives below cockroaches and colonoscopies. Used car salesmen appear to be knights in shining armor compared to these guys and gals in the House."

"I read that some members of Congress had a meeting in  Manhattan to determine why they're held in such low esteem."

"Exactly their problem!  They hold a meeting to figure that out. They could've come here to Nick's Diner, and you and I could have explained it to them in fifteen minutes as we enjoyed our breakfasts."

Buck was spreading his napkin on the table, and I knew he was going to make one of his famous lists.

"This, my friend, is why the country rates Congress as pond scum:

1  The 112th Congress was possibly the least productive in US history.
2. They sabotaged the economy for fear Obama would get credit for the country doing well.
3. Some Republicans in the present Congress want to shut down the government, except for themselves. They have conveniently seen to it that they will continue to get paid during a government shutdown.
4. The Senate still has a "silent filibuster" which allows a single senator to stop a piece of legislation.
5. The House has voted 33 times in the last two years to eliminate health care reform. Although these votes mean nothing, it is estimated that they wasted 88 hours and over $50 million on these useless charades.
6. The House failed to pass a single piece of job creation legislation.
7. The House failed to reauthorize the Violence Against Women Act.
8. The House held a hearing on birth control and refused to allow women to testify.
9  The House spent $1.5 million to defend DOMA ("Defense of Marriage Act").
10. Former Republican Congressman, Todd Akin (of "legitimate rape" fame) was on the House Committee of Science.
11. Michele Bachmann is on the House Intelligence Committee.
12. Almost two-thirds of the Republicans in the House voted to deny relief for the victims of Hurricane Sandy."

To bring Buck's lecture to a conclusion, I snatched up the napkin and put it in my pocket. "I'm taking this list with me, and  I'll  send it to my congressman, Bob Latta. Poor Bobby.  He likes corporate welfare, but has problems when it comes to helping hurricane victims."