We took our teenage boys (13 and 17) to San Antonio, TX on Friday to visit the Alamo. As a “warm up” to arriving at the actual plaza, we went to the IMAX theatre in the mall to watch The Alamo: The Price of Freedom.
As you walk down the large corridor to the theatre's entrance, on the right is a massive movie banner with the focal point highlighting the words, "The Price of Freedom." On the left side of the corridor is Victoria's Secret, with approximately eight (I didn't actually count them) bigger-than-life pictures of scantily dressed models with obsessively seductive expressions on their faces. Because we were in a hurry to make the show time, I didn't think much of it.
The movie was excellent, and in 42 minutes it detailed as accurately as possible the facts surrounding one of the most famous acts of sacrifice for the cause of freedom. As we left the theatre, and the first of those seductive pictures came into view, I was quickly reminded of the corridor we were going to pass through. Thinking of our teenage boys, I wanted to quickly cover their eyes, and then realizing that I couldn’t, I said the first thing that came to my mind as I tried to act out the part of a tour guide: “On the left, we have ‘the price of freedom,’ and on the right, we have ‘the price of enslavement’; let’s keep our eyes on freedom.”
After the words were spoken, and we exited the corridor on our way to the Alamo Plaza, I then had time to reflect on the irony of those opposing walls.
Let’s choose real freedom. At 26 years of age, William Barret Travis did, and is a hero in the truest sense of the word.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
It's Your Money - NOT
Take a deep breath, make sure you're sitting down, and prepare yourself to try to be entirely unaffected by this experience I'm going to narrate...
I recently engaged in a business transaction that required me to keep track of a few thousand dollars. Because the bookkeeping was for a short time period, and it didn't make sense to create a new bank account specific for this purpose, I decided to use a personal savings account that was joint with my primary checking account.
My has a nice online system that makes it very easy to transfer money from one account to the other. So I transferred all of my current savings (unfortunately a very small dollar amount) into my checking account, and then deposited into savings the money I needed to keep track of. When money needed to be spent, I'd use a check or debit card tied to my checking account, and then reimburse the funds by transfering the same amount (with an identification note) from the savings account. It was clean, simple, and easy to track.
Then I got a notice in the mail from the bank. It was a verbose explanation that I had exceeded the transfers permitted by law (Reg D). Huh? So I held off making two more transfers and called the bank to get an assessment of the damage. In the current statement cycle, I had done eight transfers and the law only allows for six. The penalty is $10 per violation, and so I was being charged $20.
I kept my cool, and calmly asked the customer service rep if there was any way to not be penalized for not knowing this illogical rule. He asked if I had read all the account information paperwork I had signed when I set up the account. I thought a lie "yeah, I went straight home, read for an hour and a half, and I don't remember reading the part about six max transactions," but instead I said evenly, "that's not very realistic." He read me the most relevant parts of the law and then said that unfortunately there wasn't any way to wave the penalties.
Out of curiosity, I asked where the $20 would go. He responded, "That's a good question, let me find out." After four minutes on hold, he returned and said, "It all goes to the federal government." As I processed this information, my grasp of reality began to rapidly deteriorate. Hanging on to anything I could grab, I asked if I could go into the branch and withdraw any money without being penalized. He replied, "No problem. So long as you're in a branch office, you can transfer funds, withdraw money, whatever you want, and it doesn't count towards your limit of six. Just remember though, if you do keep violating Reg D, you'll receive another notice and your savings account will be shut down."
I didn't want any more clarification. I didn't want any more information. All I wanted to do was to hang up, to resolve in my mind that twice a month I'll make a trip to the bank to do all of my transfers at once, and most importantly to just move on with my life. The bars of enslavement Congress had placed around me, were incomprehensible, but they weren't going to hold me captive indefinitely.
I jumped over the bars. Hopefully in the future the bars won't get so high I can't jump over.
I recently engaged in a business transaction that required me to keep track of a few thousand dollars. Because the bookkeeping was for a short time period, and it didn't make sense to create a new bank account specific for this purpose, I decided to use a personal savings account that was joint with my primary checking account.
My has a nice online system that makes it very easy to transfer money from one account to the other. So I transferred all of my current savings (unfortunately a very small dollar amount) into my checking account, and then deposited into savings the money I needed to keep track of. When money needed to be spent, I'd use a check or debit card tied to my checking account, and then reimburse the funds by transfering the same amount (with an identification note) from the savings account. It was clean, simple, and easy to track.
Then I got a notice in the mail from the bank. It was a verbose explanation that I had exceeded the transfers permitted by law (Reg D). Huh? So I held off making two more transfers and called the bank to get an assessment of the damage. In the current statement cycle, I had done eight transfers and the law only allows for six. The penalty is $10 per violation, and so I was being charged $20.
I kept my cool, and calmly asked the customer service rep if there was any way to not be penalized for not knowing this illogical rule. He asked if I had read all the account information paperwork I had signed when I set up the account. I thought a lie "yeah, I went straight home, read for an hour and a half, and I don't remember reading the part about six max transactions," but instead I said evenly, "that's not very realistic." He read me the most relevant parts of the law and then said that unfortunately there wasn't any way to wave the penalties.
Out of curiosity, I asked where the $20 would go. He responded, "That's a good question, let me find out." After four minutes on hold, he returned and said, "It all goes to the federal government." As I processed this information, my grasp of reality began to rapidly deteriorate. Hanging on to anything I could grab, I asked if I could go into the branch and withdraw any money without being penalized. He replied, "No problem. So long as you're in a branch office, you can transfer funds, withdraw money, whatever you want, and it doesn't count towards your limit of six. Just remember though, if you do keep violating Reg D, you'll receive another notice and your savings account will be shut down."
I didn't want any more clarification. I didn't want any more information. All I wanted to do was to hang up, to resolve in my mind that twice a month I'll make a trip to the bank to do all of my transfers at once, and most importantly to just move on with my life. The bars of enslavement Congress had placed around me, were incomprehensible, but they weren't going to hold me captive indefinitely.
I jumped over the bars. Hopefully in the future the bars won't get so high I can't jump over.
Friday, October 15, 2010
The Best Part About a Sporting Event
Most sporting events in America begin with the athletes lining up on the field or court of play, the fans standing and looking in a particular direction, hats coming off, hands placed on top of hearts (or not), and our national anthem played or sung; it's a moment of personal, quiet reflection.
For some reason that I've never been able to understand, many of the athletes, and some fans, keep their hands to their sides. A logical reason might be that the individual is not a citizen of this country, while some illogical reasons might be that even though they are a citizen they hate this country, or maybe the act of putting their hand over their heart isn't "cool" and they are "cool," or maybe it makes their arm tired and they need to save their strength for the sporting event. But whatever the reason, I wonder during those few moments, what is being reflected in the mind of the "hands-to-the-side-person" versus the individual whose palm is placed against their chest such that they can feel their own heart beat?
I don't know the answer to this question, and I probably never will, and personally, it probably doesn't matter. What really matters is that everytime I go to a sporting event (on time) and get the opportunity to put my palm against my chest, I DO feel the beat of my heart. This beat reminds me that I am blessed to be alive, and that so long as my heart continues to beat, I have the opportunity to study, understand, experience, and live for freedom. It also reminds me that I need to be wise and to take the best care that I can for my heart, so that the health decisions I make will not cause it to stop beating prematurely.
And as I thus reflect, the reality is once again reinforced, that while the clash of opposing athletes may hold captivating entertainment value, the real value of the event was only realized in those few short minutes with my hand on my heart.
For some reason that I've never been able to understand, many of the athletes, and some fans, keep their hands to their sides. A logical reason might be that the individual is not a citizen of this country, while some illogical reasons might be that even though they are a citizen they hate this country, or maybe the act of putting their hand over their heart isn't "cool" and they are "cool," or maybe it makes their arm tired and they need to save their strength for the sporting event. But whatever the reason, I wonder during those few moments, what is being reflected in the mind of the "hands-to-the-side-person" versus the individual whose palm is placed against their chest such that they can feel their own heart beat?
I don't know the answer to this question, and I probably never will, and personally, it probably doesn't matter. What really matters is that everytime I go to a sporting event (on time) and get the opportunity to put my palm against my chest, I DO feel the beat of my heart. This beat reminds me that I am blessed to be alive, and that so long as my heart continues to beat, I have the opportunity to study, understand, experience, and live for freedom. It also reminds me that I need to be wise and to take the best care that I can for my heart, so that the health decisions I make will not cause it to stop beating prematurely.
And as I thus reflect, the reality is once again reinforced, that while the clash of opposing athletes may hold captivating entertainment value, the real value of the event was only realized in those few short minutes with my hand on my heart.
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