I typically try not to touch on controversial topics.  One thing I've learned during my career in sales is to stay away from religion and politics. You're bound to upset someone, and cost yourself business.  However, this is my blog and I'll blog what I want to.


Yes, this is America. Yes, Americans have rights.  For example, a black man has the right to run for president. And win.  He also has the right to not screw up the possibility of other black people being elected to office by being controversial.  Controversy is for Hollywood, not the Oval Office.  


Religious freedom is a Constitutional right in this country. So is peaceable assembly.  But this issue raises two questions in my head.

1. With the knowledge of the significance of the Ground Zero and surrounding blocks, why would any Muslim want to establish a place of worship there?
2. Why did Obama say anything at all?

Expressing any sort of support for a group that shoulders the blame for one of the most-heinous acts in American history nearly assures that there will not be a second term of the Obama Administration.  Appearing insensitive to the American people on such a hot-button issue was a bad move, even if it is upholding the Constitution. 


Sometimes political correctness and diplomacy are the easy way out.  I believe that there was a diplomatic and politically correct way to address the issue since he felt the need to make a statement.  I agree that Muslims have a right to worship, but is it safe to worship there? On that block? On that street?


The struggling economy isn't his fault.  The fledgling housing market, the unemployment rate, the war (are they still looking for bin Laden?), not his fault. It will take a lot to get these issues corrected. He knew that before he took office. He had a plan, a goal, a vision to take steps to get America back where it once was. He knew there would difficulties convincing the public as well as other politicians of his policies. Misguided statements on controversial issues like this just add momentum to his plummeting approval rating, and I can guarantee that this topic will resurface at election time.

The King of His Castle? Apparently Not In The Throne Room.

I normally don't require much time in the bathroom. A few minutes to shower and a few more minutes to shave and I'm done.  The size of our home's lonesome bathroom doesn't suit more than one person very comfortably. And my wife... well, let's just say it's a good thing I don't need "the good light" in the bathroom very often. 

Every two weeks I need some time in the mirror to cut my hair.  I taught myself how to face backward in the bathroom mirror while holding a hand mirror and not slice off an ear.  My hair cuts are just about the only place I'm frugal. I refuse to pay $15 when I can (evidently) do it myself.

Most of the time, there is enough time right before she wakes up to cut my hair and shower before she needs to commandeer the facilities. This particular day, I allowed her to shower first.  I figured that I could get the kid's breakfast and lunch made during the time she took to shower and put her face on. I had assumed she was done, and as I glanced at the clock, I concluded that I could still give myself a trim and get out of the house on time.

Shortly after the clippers start buzzing, my lovely little daughter prances in with a high-pitched "G'mornin' Daddy," and perches herself on the toilet. I didn't think much of it, it's 7:30am who doesn't need to go first thing in the morning?

As I was shearing my head, my nose began to detect a tang in the air.  It took a minute or so for my brain to diagnose what was happening...

"Air you poopin," I questioned in a shocked and despaired tone.  "Yes," she replied with undeniable cuteness.  I couldn't help but feel a bit disrespected.  Do I barge in during her bath tub time? Does she get strong-armed while she's brushing her teeth?  I can't have 10 minutes? I peeked over at her. She smiled, and of course I smiled back. "Oh well," I thought. I used to change the kid's diapers, and soon things wouldn't so familiar. Before long she'll be a tweenager sassing me out the door.

Just as Faith is finishing up, Julie strolls in, excuses herself past me and starts rummaging in one of the drawers of the vanity.  I wasn't paying much attention to the commotion because I was making sure that my 'do was even.  Soon, we're shoulder-to-shoulder, jockeying for mirror space.

Our bathroom mirror is actually a cabinet with three vertical glass doors.  I started out using the middle one, but magically found myself crammed against the wall using the one on the right as my beautiful wife's flying elbows created a perimeter and staking claim to 66% of the available mirror space.

I mentioned to her that I was nearly done, and the mirror would be hers, but she insisted that she was nearly done as well.  My statement of initial occupation of the facilities fell on deaf ears.

It was at this moment that I realized the pecking order in my house.  I knew that I was outnumbered. Living with a wife and daughter would often cause my manly instincts to be compromised on occasion. But during a hair cut?!  I was essentially ignored on this particular day.  Well, maybe not ignored, but I was literally pushed aside.  Let's see how quickly I spring into action next time a bug needs squashed or a jar needs opened.