I MET JOHN QUINCY ADAMS

It happened again. . .God whispered in my ear. I had a fun interview on the local Indiana, PA, radio station, and stopped over at Indiana Regional Medical Center to say hello to friends. Friends fortify me with smiles, geniune glad-to-see-you smiles. I can't thank them enough; they know who they are.

Then on to the car dealership for routine car maintenance. While I waited, I scrolled through the news items of the day on my mobile. (Yes, my family convinced me to update into the 21st century and now I am tethered real time to the whole world.) As I scrolled through the items, I felt the good mood of the morning slipping away. The news lately, in my opinion, has been overwhelmingly alarming.

So. . .sitting there in the dealership, their TV volume turned way too high, broadcasting some inane daytime show, I felt deflated by the news, deflated like party balloon because there was no longer any reason to party and be happy.

Service on the car was completed and the technician gave me the status report and the bill. He introduced himself as John Quincy Adams! Really? Really? Staff in the area confirmed that was really his name.

"Named for a founding father?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "Named for the son of a founding father. My family has that tradition."

Really! Then I knew the sons (and daughters) of the founding fathers are in our world. . .with or without specific historical names. And I drove away feeling hopeful.

Government Regulations, Intrusive Baby Steps

I knit. . .it gives me pleasure to make things for family and friends. Every inch of the yarn passes over my fingers, loops around the needles, takes shape, becomes functional.

Often, I would fashion felted articles. (Felting used to be called boiled wool.) Garments are dense, warm, desirable.

So. . .what's that got to do with government regulations? In the past, when the garment, usually a hat or purse, was completed, it was time to "felt" it. All I had to do was set the washing machine on a hot cycle, toss in the garment and monitor the progress of it shrinking down from a oversized, loosely knit project to a tight, firm felted shape. Simple enough, until I had to replace my washing machine. The first time I used that new machine, the hat I tossed in simply would not felt. It came out soggy and just as big and loosely knit as it went in. I repeated the wash cycle with the same disappointing results. The water was barely tepid.

I called the repairman and explained that the hot water function of the machine wasn't working. It cost me a $70 house call to learn that the temperatures of washing machines was now regulated by the federal government to save energy.

Oh, puh-leeze! (And how pasty the repairman looked in the light cast by a CFL light bulb. But I digress.)

I doubt my hobby of felting wool would harm the planet.
On the other hand, the mercury in CFL bulbs might.

Agenda 21, creeping insidiously.

SAVE WHAT YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING TO LOSE

It's happening. It's not fiction. In the novel, Agenda 21, the churches were destroyed. Worshipping God was forbidden. The novel was fiction. But in our present day reality, the assault on religion is apparent.

Consider this case in Connellsville, PA: "Group that wants Ten Commandments icon removed says because of its location, impressionable youths forced to consider it as edicts." (Pittsburgh Tribune-Review, Thursday, 1/10/2013, by Liz Zemba.) The Freedom From Religion Foundation, based in Wisconsin, has filed suit on behalf of an anonymous atheist parent of a non-religious student in the Connellsville Junior High School because children "cannot help but see it as they attend classes."

What is it the "impressionable youths" cannot help but see? A stone monument of the Ten Commandments donated 55 years ago by the Connellsville Eagles. Lord, help us! A local church offered to move the monument from school property and place it on church property but the anonymous parent (why, oh, why are these people always anonymous?) objected because the children could still see it.

From the novel: "Save what you think you are going to lose."  From fiction to reality.