Early puberty, a growing concern

Early puberty in girls is no longer a uniquely American problem. It now seems that European girls are also physically maturing earlier than usual than ever before.

According to a study out of Denmark, the average age of breast development in young girls has decreased by a full year since 1990. This latest study focused specifically on breast development, and over the course of 15 years researchers found that that the average age of breast development is currently age 9.86 years of age. In the early 90s, the average age was 10.88.

The problem has become so widespread in the U.S. that some medical associations are trying to re-define the “normal” age for female development milestones.

You don’t need to spend a ton on research to know this is true… just look around you. The evidence is right in front of our eyes. What isn’t so cut and dry to most people is what is the cause of the phenomenon to begin with.

Pediatricians have tried to link earlier development in girls to the childhood obesity epidemic. Diet plays a significant role, though it has more to do with what young girls are eating rather than how much. Many doctors (and parents) have long had suspicions as to the source of our daughters’ rapid advance into womanhood: too many soy products, and the incredible amounts of hormones in our meat supply.

Many of the staple foods that parents routinely encourage young kids to eat are loaded with growth-inducing hormones. The beef, poultry, and milk that we’re feed our children with in hopes that they’ll grow big and strong are also making them grow up too fast.

The rise in the popularity of soy in the last couple of decades has also taken its toll as well. Some children are pumped full of soy products just hours after leaving the womb, as soy-based infant formulas have become standard. But soy formulas contain levels of the hormone phytoestrogen that are a whopping 20 times higher than breast milk.

Imagine: a little girl is born, weaned on soy milk, then fed with hormone-packed meat and cow milk as the core of her diet for the first 10- to 15 years of her life. When you add all the other factors together, it’s no wonder that puberty isn’t starting even sooner!

The author of the Danish study, Dr. Lise Aksglaede of Copenhagen University, called the change in the average age of breast development in such a short time span “worrying,” adding, “We do not know why and what it might mean for the individual girl.”

Early puberty is a not a problem that we can write off as part of the changing times. There are a myriad of potential health hazards that early puberty could cause. It has been linked with problems like depression, teen substance abuse, and unprotected sex. More unnerving is the high incidence of breast cancer associated with the early onset of physical maturity.

Parents are urged not to get caught up in the whys and wherefores, but instead to take any steps you can at home to slow premature maturity in your daughters or granddaughters. The best first step is to remove soy from a child’s diet. It doesn’t matter what the media tells you — it’s an empty, nutrition-less food. Do your best to steer clear of products with hormones. It’s true that buying organic beef, poultry, and milk is a little more expensive, but isn’t your daughter’s (and all your children’s) health worth it?

You May Be a Taliban If…

Top 10 Signs You Might Be a Taliban, if…

1. You refine heroin for a living, but you have a moral objection to beer.
2. You own a $3,000 machine gun and $50,000 rocket launcher, but you can’t afford shoes.
3. You have more wives than teeth.
4. You wipe your butt with your bare left hand, but consider bacon “unclean.”
5. You think vests come in two styles: bullet-proof and suicide.
6. You can’t think of anyone you haven’t declared Jihad against.
7. You consider television dangerous, but routinely carry explosives in your clothing.
8. You were amazed to discover that cell phones have uses other than setting off roadside bombs.
9. You have nothing against women and think every man should own at least two.
10. You’ve always had a crush on your neighbor’s goat.

A letter from your boss

To All My Valued Employees,

There have been some rumblings around the office about the future of this company, and more specifically, your job. As you know, the economy has changed for the worse and presents many challenges.  However, the good news is this: The economy doesn’t pose a threat to your job.  What does threaten your job however, is the changing political landscape in this country.

However, let me give you some facts which might help you decide what is in your best interests.

First, while it is easy to spew rhetoric that pits employees against their employers, you have to understand that for every business owner there is a “back story.”  This back story is often neglected and overshadowed by what you see and hear. Sure, you see me park my Mercedes outside.   You’ve seen my big home at last year’s Christmas party. I’m sure; all these flashy icons of luxury conjure up some idealized thoughts about my life.

However, what you don’t see is the back story.

I started this company 28 years ago. At that time, I lived in a 300 square foot studio apartment for 3 years. My entire living apartment was converted into an office so I could put forth 100% effort into building a company, which by the way, would eventually employ you.

My diet consisted of Ramen Pride noodles and boxes of macaroni and cheese because every dollar I spent went back into this company. I drove a rusty beat up Ford LTD with a defective transmission, and took the bus to work most of the time because the car wouldn’t work.

I didn’t have time to date. Often times, I stayed home on weekends, while my friends went out drinking and partying. In fact, I was married to my business – hard work, discipline, and sacrifice.

Meanwhile, my friends got jobs. They worked 40 hours a week and made a modest $50K a year and pissed every dime they earned. They drove flashy cars and lived in expensive homes and wore fancy designer clothes. Instead of hitting the Nordstrom’s for the latest hot fashion item, I was trolling through the discount stores, extracting any clothing item that didn’t look like it was birthed in the 70’s. My friends refinanced their mortgages and lived a life of luxury. I, however, did not. I put my time, my money, and my life into a business with a vision that eventually, some day, I too, would l be able to afford the luxuries my friends supposedly had.

While you physically arrive at the office at 9:00 AM, mentally check in around noon, and then leave at 5:00 PM, I don’t. There is no “off” button for me. When you leave the office, you are done and you have a weekend all to yourself and your family. I unfortunately do not have that freedom.

I eat and breathe this company every minute of the day. There is no rest. There is no weekend. There is no happy hour. Every day this business is attached to my hip like a 1 year old child with special needs. You, of course, only see the fruits of that garden – the nice house, the Mercedes, the vacations… you never realize the back story and the sacrifices I’ve had to make.

Now, the economy is in the shitter and I, the guy that made all the right decisions and saved his money,  am told that I have to bail-out all the people who didn’t? The people who overspent their paychecks now feel that I must wipe their shitty asses, and all of a sudden feel entitled to the same luxuries that I earned and sacrificed a decade of my life for?  They now expect ME to bail their asses out of the bind that they got themselves into?

Yes, business ownership has its benefits but the price I’ve paid is steep and not without wounds.

Unfortunately, the cost of running this business, and employing you, and giving you a place to warm your ass in one of my cubicles is starting to eclipse the threshold of marginal benefit and let me tell you why:

I am being taxed to death and the government thinks I don’t pay enough. I have state taxes. Federal taxes. Property taxes. Sales and use taxes. Payroll taxes. Workers compensation taxes. Unemployment taxes. Taxes on taxes. I have to hire a tax man to manage all these taxes and then guess what? I have to pay taxes for employing him!

Government mandates and regulations and all the accounting that goes with it, now occupy most of my time. On Oct 15th, I wrote a check to the U.S. Treasury for $288,000 for quarterly taxes. You know what my “stimulus” check was?

Zero. Nada. Zilch.

The question I have is this: Who in the hell is stimulating this economy?

Me, the guy who has provided 14 people good paying jobs and serves over 2.2 million people per year with a flourishing business? Or, the single mother sitting at home, on her ass, pregnant with her fourth child, watching “The View,” and waiting for her next welfare check?

Obviously, government feels the latter is the economic stimulus of this country.

The fact is, if I deducted (Read: Stole) 50% of your paycheck you’d quit in a heartbeat and you wouldn’t work here. I mean, why should you? That’s nuts! Who wants to get rewarded only 50% of their hard work? Well, I agree… which is why your job is in jeopardy.

Here is what many of you don’t understand… to stimulate the economy you need to stimulate what runs the economy.

Had suddenly government mandated to me that I didn’t need to pay taxes, guess what?  Instead of depositing that $288,000 into the Washington black-hole, I would have expanded my business so I could hire more employees, and generated substantial economic growth in my community. My employees would have enjoyed the wealth of that tax cut in the form of promotions, bonuses, and better salaries. But you can forget that shit now.

When you have a comatose man on the verge of death, you don’t defibrillate and shock his thumb thinking that will bring him back to life, do you?  Or, do you defibrillate his heart?  Small business and big business is the heart of the U.S. economy and always has been. To restart it, you must stimulate it, not kill it. Suddenly, the power brokers in Washington believe the poor of America are the essential drivers of the American economic engine. Nothing could be further from the truth and this is the type of change you can keep.

So where am I going with all this?

It’s quite simple.

If any new taxes are levied on me or my company, my reaction will be swift and simple. I will fire your ass! I will fire your co-workers. You can then plead with the government to pay for your mortgage, your SUV, and your child’s future. Frankly, I don’t give a damn… it isn’t my problem any more.

Then, I will close this company down, move to another country, and retire. You see, I’m done. I’m finished with a country that elects stupid-ass politicians who penalize the productive and gives to the shiftless, lazy and unproductive dregs of a Robin Hood society. My motivation to work and to provide jobs will be destroyed, and with it, will be my citizenship.

So, if you lose your job, don’t blame me.  It won’t be at the hands of the economy; it will be at the hands of the stupid sons of bitches who elected the incompetent politicians that swept through this country, steamrolled the constitution, and will have changed its landscape forever.

If that happens, you will find me sitting on a beach in La Costa del Sol, retired, and with no employees to worry about…

Signed,
Your boss

A Great Comeback

On television today a Democratic operative pointed out that when Obama holds a rally 25,000-30,000 people show up, whereas when McCain holds one he only draws 10,000-15,000. The Republican spokesman replied, ‘That’s because McCain’s supporters are at work.’

INCOMPETENCE

If you can cast doubt on the abilities and skills of others, there is no end to the things that you can fail at without being noticed.

You just might be anal-retentive…

The term anal-retentive (commonly abbreviated to “anal”), is used to describe a person with such attention to detail that the obsession becomes an annoyance to others, and can be carried out to the detriment of the anal-retentive person.  I guess, in the past, I have been an annoyance to some that it has gotten “under their skin” and it has inhibited some of my relationships.

However… I have made progress, in some departments.  I no longer

• eat my M&Ms in color order,
• fold my dirty clothes before putting them in the hamper,
• no longer have all boxes in the kitchen cabinets facing the same way and in order by size,
• no longer keep canned goods organized by type, flavor and use,
• and no longer face them to the front.  (Well… actually, I do, still, face them to the front.  There’s just some things, Maudie, that I can’t quite give up!)
• I no longer require 200 threads per inch on my sheets.  I’ve totally given up on bed linens and sleep on top of a sleeping bag, placed on top of my bed, because I’m too busy (and lazy) to make up my bed.
• The spices in the kitchen cabinet are totally unorganized.
• I don’t bother trying to convince anyone that the 3rd millenium has begun – especially liberals.  Forget it… they just can’t do the math.  They don’t “get it.”
• My closet is not organized by color, season, or fabric. As a matter of fact, my closets are hardly ever used.  Most of the time my clothes end up folded and left in the bathroom, where I can conveniently grab them when I come out of the shower.
• I no longer flame everybody who sends me email because the emails weren’t spelled correctly or gramatically correct.  (Unless… they’re just blatant about butchering the King’s English.)
• I do, however, still run every e-mail reply that I send through a spell checker, and double check them for grammar and syntax.  If I noticed that I still missed something and “botched” the King’s English, I don’t lose any sleep over it.  So, I guess, I’m improving.
• And finally – last, but not least – if I get into a political debate with bone-heads and liberals, I try to keep my sentences short, ask questions to get under their skin, and use polysyllabic words that they can’t comprehend. (Hey!  A guy’s got to have some kind of entertainment!)

Sarah Palin’s Security Clearance

Before you dismiss the fact that Sarah Palin is Commander of the Alaska National Guard consider this:

Alaska is the first line of defense in our missile interceptor defense system. The 49th Missile Defense Battalion of the Alaska National Guard is the unit that protects the entire nation from ballistic missile attacks. Itʼs on permanent active duty, unlike other Guard units.

 

As governor of Alaska , Palin is briefed on highly classified military issues, homeland security, and counterterrorism. Her exposure to classified material may rival even Biden’s and certainly by far exceeds Obama’s.

 

She’s also the commander in chief of the Alaska State Defense Force (ASDF), a federally recognized militia incorporated into Homeland Security’s counterterrorism plans.

Palin is privy to military and intelligence secrets that are vital to the entire country’s defense. Given Alaska ’s proximity to Russia , she may have security clearances we don’t even know about.

 

According to the Washington Post, she first met with McCain in February, but nobody ever found out. This is a woman used to keeping secrets.

 

She can be entrusted with our national security, because she already is.

Change

Things I Learned From Animals

Many years ago, I lived and worked in Houston, Texas, and had an office/warehoue off the Northwest Freeway. I used to leave the bay door locked with an opening of at least six or eight inches so that Thomas and Sissy could easily come and go. (Thomas and Sissy were brother and sister from the same litter that Mamacat had. Names were pretty much a simple thing around the office)

On many a morning, Thomas would rather go in and out through the front door of the office. At night, he and Sissy would use the bay door opening, but during the day, he wanted my “full attention” and he wanted to be given preferential treatment. “Tommy” had a good self esteem, and a bright outlook on life in general. I’ve learned a lot about human nature from God’s creatures, including my dog, but Thomas put so much “verve” into his day that made each one unique. No two were alike.

If I ever learn to live life like Thomas (and my dog, Sharik) I will be content and fulfilled as a child of God, having been given the fullness of life and all the abundance that goes with it.

Animals, especially dogs and cats, seem to put an infinite trust in life. At least Thomas did…

I would awake each morning in the loft to the sounds of my alarm clocks (it took more than one to wake me up!). Thomas always came up the stairs to help, though. As I laid there trying to get my bearings, Tommy would lick me on my face with his rough tongue and defoliate my cheeks until I peered at him with – at least – one open eye. Upon opening – at least – one eye, he would then rub his nose on my face as if to say, “Good morning! It’s so exciting outside! Another day is coming! Yippee!

Sigh… I’m tired, but who can lay around with this much enthusiasm staring (and purring) him in the face?

Each morning I would share daybreak with him. We would watch the squirrels through the window, darting about on the telephone poles, as I was preparing breakfast. We had a routine. While I fixed his food, he would begin with a ritual of str-etching. Nothing trivial or hasty, mind you, but a leisurely, carefully planned and executed luxury that does him as much good as a vacation. Left front paw, right front paw, now both hind legs, and finally a long bend of the back, as he yawns with a gape that shows all his sharp pearlies… aaah! A brisk shake of the head and body, and then he would look at me with his big green eyes wide open, and ears perked up.

He dashed back to the window to make sure his “victims” are still playing on the telephone poles. He rears up on his hind paws, and peers out the window — quivering, with his tail twitching in excitement. Sunshine! Trees! Great Scott! There’s a leaf blowing across the yard! Thomas has looked out through this same window hundreds of mornings, but every time it is fresh and challenging and wonderful.

And so with breakfast. You would think he had never seen this old chipped crystal bowl before. He pounces on his food like a man finding a mother lode of gold! Then, when the last bit of food has been neatly licked off his plate, comes the ecstatic moment for going out to greet the new day.

Tommy never just goes through the doorway. (Animals, especially cats, don’t take these moments lightly.) First he glides halfway through, then stands in the doorway drinking in the sights and sounds, scents, and everything else God has put there for him. (He even approached rainy days the same way. To him, rain was just “liquid sunshine.”)  Another inch or two and he would stop and stand again. (He’s “winding up” his mainspring.) At last, very slowly, he slips over the threshold. If so much wonder were to hit Thomas all at once, I dare say that he could hardly stand it.

Now he rushes to the middle of the lawn and there he performs his riotous caper. He takes a flying jump at nothing in particular, then peers and zigzags after imaginary mice. He leaps into the air and claps his paws on non-existent butterflies. Then some quick flip-flops, rolling over and over, all four paws waving wildly. In a minute it is finished and he steps off to his day’s adventures.

What better lesson in living could one have? Here is joy in every moment, an awareness of the electric exitement of the earth and all that is in it. One further lesson from Thomas: when he sleeps, he really sleeps! He curls up in a ball, puts one paw over the top of his head and turns himself over to God.

Animals give themselves wholeheartedly to the joy of just being. At dusk, just a bit before sunset, the squirrels would be back to their games on the telephone poles and jumping from tree to tree. Thomas would be right there “in the game” with them. (Where is Sissy in all this excitement? She’s taking the typical approach to her brother and dismissing his frolicking as juvenile revelry, while she is being more “mature” and tending to “more important matters in the house.” Their personalities are as different as their genders, and as night is from day.

I have seen an old fox batting a stick in absorbed rapture for over an hour. I have watched those same aforementioned squirrels play aerial roller-coaster. Children approach life in much the same way, before reason steps in to complicate their lives…

If animals can be said to have a philosophy, it is as simple as this: When God told man to subdue the earth, and he relinquished his control of it in his fall, animals never seemed to have lost the sense of the First Commandment… Enjoy! Be joyous! I have given you the glory of the senses and of awareness, and the splendor of the earth. Surrender yourself to these things, not worrying if it looks undignified to turn somersaults in the middle of the yard. When the word is “Fight!” pitch in and fight, not weighing hesitant thoughts about prudence and prejudice.

Rest, play, sleep, feed and doze in God’s green shade by the brook — a simple philosophy. It holds the strength of the world.

Animals do not know how to worry… it’s a learned trait.

An animal does not know what brotherhood means, but when it hears the call “Help!” it answers instinctively…

Not only do animals greet life in all its aspects wholeheartedly, they greet death in the same way. “Sleep now, and rest,” says God at the end…

Animals, especially cats and dogs, trust – innately – without fear, doubt or trepidation.

Thomas lived life to the fullest. He had a buddy named Bingo. Bingo was a Golden Lab mix with some Pedigree Mutt in him. Bingo was full of life – and with his red bandana tied around his neck – equally precocious. Tommy and Bingo would play “tag” and chase each other across the street and back, until one day when the trash truck was coming by on its route. Thomas “bet the house” and played “all ‘9 Lives’” when he miscalculated the speed of the truck and the spacing of the tires. Needless to say, 12 tons of (trash and) truck just “wore him out.”

Bingo went over to resuscitate him, giving him a nudge, but there was no revival nor resurrection. Tommy was gone… his death was as fast as his life. No suffering. I don’t think he even knew what hit him, and I would presume he wouldn’t have cared either.

Sissy, Bingo and I (and a few mechanics from the shop across the street) saw it all go down. I went out into the street to pick up the lifeless body of my old buddy, and went about the tearful chore of burying him with honors.

Sissy eventually took his place in our afternoon naps. I would be in the lab in the afternoons, and would take a couple of hours in the recliner, and Thomas would curl up in my lap and take his place. Summer or winter, it didn’t matter, he would be there to keep me warm. Sissy had always been pretty much independent; much like I like my women. Some of my ex-girlfriends could learn “a thing or two” from Sissy.

If I went off on an errand, or a delivery during the day, Thomas was always faithful to wait for me out front, like a loyal canine. Bingo wouldn’t be far behind. Sissy? Well, she would be “in the house” doing “her thing.”

After Tommy’s demise, she took up his place in my lap for the afternoon naps, and his place out front, waiting for me to return from my day away from the office. She also took his place in the aerial roller-coaster with the squirrels, and chasing phantom butterflies. (It seems some females could actually learn something from their male counterparts.)

It wasn’t long before Sissy came up missing. She hadn’t come home for several days, and I kept food out for her. I kept the bay door open at 6 to 8 inches each day, wishing she would bring me her “love gifts,” but she was never to return. Several months later, I was next door visiting one of my merchant neighbors in his shop. He was a manufacturer and formulated shampoos and hair treatments for a high end specialty niche market. There were drums and karboys of all sorts of chemicals sitting around on pallets, and some of it looked quite toxic. Ingested internally, I suppose it would be in large amounts, but small amounts might simply “clean the pipes” like a good calonic.

I was helping him move some product out of the back corner of the warehouse and I noticed the lifeless, and perfectly preserved body of Sissy. She had evidently been out “visiting” on her adventures (as was her custom) and had gotten locked in the warehouse, and found some of the spillage “tasty.” She didn’t like beer or wine, so I knew she had not been out “on the town” and there was no anti-freeze in the warehouse; so it must have been something else that went into the shampoos that she found.

Needless to say, I took her body, too, and put her in a small wooden casket and buried her next to her brother, Thomas.

It was lonely around the shop without Tommy or Sissy. Bingo? He was happy to stay outside and cavort. He belonged to my neighbor across the street, and was a bit remiss without his feline playmates.

Now I am in the summer of my life, and have had the good blessing of a dog. I’ve never really been considered a cat or dog person, as I’ve never really had a preference of one over the other. I’ve loved them all. They have all loved me. I wonder if I have benefitted more in the relationship, as I have learned so much from them.

Yes, cats are somewhat independent, but there are exceptions. Was Tommy and Sissy spoiled? Absolutely! Probably as much as Magnus the Magnifi-cat… or moreso.

Now Sharik has my love and attention. He has lived almost 140 years. If he weren’t my “shadow” I fear he wouldn’t have lived this long. He is blind, hard of hearing, and has congestive heart failure. I’m not sure he will make it through the summer. One of the things I must do in the next few weeks is prepare a corner plot on the family acreage with some wild flowers and lots of sunshine. I must prepare myself, mentally and emotionally, for the eventuality that I must someday part with my good friend, Sharik.

I adopted my dog… no, I rescued him. Or, did he rescue me? We’ve been together for almost ten years, and he is now going on 20 human years. When he was young, he could hop into the car, through the window, from a running start. He used to ride with me everywhere I went. We went on road trips to Oklahoma, Iowa, Texas, Missouri, and he lived the adventures with me. Now, he sleeps most of the time between trips to the food and water bowls, and “bidniss” outside.

He will come up and nudge my elbow with his cold nose, while I’m working at the computer, typing on a manuscript or working on a book. It’s his way of telling me “It’s time for my lap time!” So, I take my cue from him, save my work, and get our blanket and pillow and head off to the recliner. After I get situated, he makes his circle – around and around in my lap – and then plops down to rest. Just a few apniatic snores later, he is sound asleep. And I’m not far behind him.

He’s had some “spells” here lately. He’s had some seizures, and I’ve come close to losing him a couple of times when he fainted and vomited bile (a sign of impending trauma). I rush over and pick him up, and hold him close to my chest, and comfort him and let him know he’s safe in my arms. He’s my Little Shadow, and he follows me around by scent, as he’s blind and can’t see me. He’s hard of hearing, too, so it’s hard for him to tell where I’m at when I’m talking to him. But he knows my touch, and he’s safe in my arms. Much like we are safe in God’s arms.

When it comes time for him to go, I am going to have a much harder time letting him go than for him to let me go. It’s always been hard for me to let my animals go…

But I have learned many lessons from God’s creatures… especially from dogs and cats. They can be very trusting until you deny that trust from them. Animals are so transparent and can reflect back to you many of your qualities and faults.

An old nun told me one time that I would make a good father and a good husband. She told me that, had she not taken vows, she would have loved me as a wife. I was honored to have her tell me that. I would have been honored, as well, to be her husband. Sister S. (I’ll call her) knew how I doted on my dog. I treated him much like a dad would love his son and gave him everything he ever needed, and he never lacked for anything. He never worried for want during times of economic shortage: he was happy to be with me.

Well… it’s time for my morning nap. And it’s time for my Sharik’s “lap time.” Evidently it works very well, all these naps: it keeps my blood pressure down.

Just a few things I’ve learned from animals…

Huge Oil Deposits In the United States

Huge Oil Field, Right Here In The U.S.! 

When we think of oil reserves in the US, we think about coal. But it turns out that America may be sitting on a huge, 200 billion barrel oil field that has gone unnoticed and could make us energy independent.

New drilling technology could make it possible to pump the oil from the Bakken Formation, which covers North Dakota and parts of South Dakota and Montana.

According to Next Energy News, “The US imported about 14 million barrels of Oil per day in 2007 , which means US consumers sent about $340 Billion Dollars overseas building palaces in Dubai and propping up unfriendly regimes around the World, if 200 billion barrels of oil at $90 a barrel are recovered in the high plains the added wealth to the US economy would be $18 Trillion Dollars which would go a long way in stabilizing the US trade deficit and could cut the cost of oil in half in the long run.”

Maybe this is why the Middle East is investing in solar energy!

When we think about this, it makes us wonder (at least it does me) why we don’t make ourselves independent of the likes of the Middle East, Hugo Chavez and his ilk, and the environazis who don’t want us to drill in ANWAR and build new refineries.

Arctic Oil Secrets

Does the Arctic really hold any secrets?  Or is all this global warming just another Algore scam?  (Pssst!  Just follow the money!)

Polar bear populations are on the rise, and the polar ice caps are increasing in size, and the global temperature went down in the last year.

So much for global warmng and oil shortages.