I Believe Life is Everlasting

     As a child, I shared a strong bond with my father similar to that of a mother-daughter relationship. It was as if he had carried me the same way a male penguin carries his children. In today's society, the correct way to describe me as a child would have been a spoil brat. There was nothing I ever had to desire, for he would use the emotional channel we shared to fill all my desires before I verbally expressed them. Saturday mornings were always spent at the fishing lake, and an evening concert followed  in which we would sing our theme song. "Hey Mia, look out your window. Here comes yo daddy, yo butt-kickin daddy," he would harmonize terribly. I would then follow, "My big-bad daddy." We would then burst into laughter. This was our regular, irreplaceable routine. The love I shared for my father could never be described, for it's beyond words.
     My sleep would come easily just knowing that the next morning I could be with my father again. Well at least I thought so. About 3:00 A.M. one morning, my brother and I were awoken by a sharp, loud cry. Rushing around the corner, I witnessed a site that I can never erase. I watched helplessly as my father took his last breadth and let go of life peacefully. After ambulance arrived, my brother and I were rushed out of the house to my grandmother's house still in our pajamas. After waiting about thirty minutes, the phone rang only to confirm what I already knew. My father had passed in his sleep. From that point onward however our emotional channel still seemed to exist. I felt that although my father passed, he still was s alive, that is within me.
     I believe that although someone can be here today and gone tomorrow, they still remain forever. I believe life is everlasting.
     Today, I stand proud, for I have grown into a very bright and successful young woman. I feel that part of me doing so is due to by father. His wise and intelligent thinking has been placed in my inward parts, and they guide me in a successful manner. Without a doubt, I am by father.
     I frequently find myself in the backyard sitting in the abandoned boat we once fished in. I can still hear him singing in the back of my head. I sit alone, yet I'm not. My father died September 14, 2006, however he has been living and continues to do so as long as I live. I believe death is a physical action only sweeping away the outer body, but the inner self floats on and lives within its' match. I believe life is everlasting.

Grandma's Crispy Fried Chicken

    

Ingredients:

Chicken
Flour
Salt
Pepper
Season All
Goya
Parsley
Lime
Lemon
Buttermilk
Lemon Pepper
Paprika

 Preparation:

Remove the chicken the previous night and place in a sealed bowl. Store in a cold refrigerated area overnight. The next day remove the chicken and wash thoroughly, removing any blood or bacteria.  


Grandma hated this particular task, so she would always assign the duty of doing so to my much older brother with the prospect of payback. In the meantime, she opened all the windows allowing the fall breeze to chirp a sweet melody while shaking the arms of several trees, which in turn scraped the windows and waved at us all. I placed my book bag into the hall closet and sat at one of the stools on the bar. These chairs sat up very high and offered no back support, so for the most part they were vacant. As soon as my grandmother disappeared into the back of the house, I took the chair for a spin laughing non-stop as my brother transformed into a fuzzy blur. I  went round and round until I could no longer contain my dizziness.

"Oh my," I stated sickly as I hopped from the chair and moved throughout the kitchen like a drunk woman.

 Just as the last effects of the dizziness wore off, my grandmother returned with a radio and many blues tapes. She started the soul-moving music and smelt my breadth as passing to be sure I was sober. After doing so, she returned to the sink where the chicken appeared paler than a deceased man, both awaiting to be prepared.


Place the oil in a deep pan and place in oven on 390 to preheat. Season chicken with salt, pepper, paprika, lemon pepper, parsley, season all, and Goya.


After proving I was sober, I wandered into the pantry empty-handed and left with a pack of Cheetos. Stuffing my mouth with the cheesy chips, I begin heading towards the front door, which always remained open for grandma would display hospitality to animals if possible, only to be met by one of her gossiping buddies. Before she could open her mouth, I pointed to the kitchen and pretended to go outside. Immediately, I made a U-turn and followed closely behind her until I made it to a close enough distance to ease- drop on their conversation. Excited to see Mrs. Edna, my grandmother hugged her, for they had been unable to gossip for two weeks because of grandma's absence from her bingo games due to the flu. She pulled out Mrs. Edna a chair, and did something she rarely ever do, remain quite. She listened intently as Mrs. Edna told her who had lost their job, which husband stayed out all night long, and whose child had misbehaved on Sunday. All the while doing so, she  used her hands as measuring instruments to distribute the seasoning evenly on the chicken. Here and then she would look up with a surprised face and state, "What? Are you serious?"


Take the zest from a lemon and lime and blend with buttermilk. Add flour in a paper bag. Dip the chicken in the wet batter and allow the chicken to dry approximately three minutes. Next, place chicken in the bag and shake for several minutes. Afterwards, place the chicken in the oil and allow to fry for twenty minutes or until crispy brown.


 After having enough gossip for a day, I climbed from underneath the table and marched into the kitchen as nothing had happened. As usual, Mrs. Edna was preparing the wet batter. I watched as her long, wrinkled fingers mixed the lemon and lime zest with the buttermilk. My grandmother poured the flour into the tall, brown paper bag and waited for the chicken to dry. If the chicken is placed in the flour immediately after removing from the batter, the flour could become clumpy. Taking the bag, I used the long, awkward, metal utensil to place enough chicken  into the bag to feed every living organism in the whole wide world. I then begin shaking the bag with the assistance of Mrs. Edna, no doubt we could have became body builders after coating the chicken in flour. I handed the bag back to my grandmother and watched as the oil screamed each time she placed the chicken in the pan.

"OUCH," she shouted as some of the grease popped onto her skin. "Child fetch me some butter," she said agitated.

 After caring for her small wound, she placed the pan back into the oven, and I went away  into the hall to gather all the blankets, and assemble them throughout the playroom, where all the neighborhood children gathered for dinner. Closely afterwards,  the entire house was swarming with hungry neighbors carrying pots of food ready to partake in a soulful meal. At exactly 6:30 my brother shut off the music and everyone joined hands for prayer. Immediately afterwards the hand sanitizer was distributed from one dirty hand to another. The older ones received their food first and sat in the front of the house along with the middle-age adults, while the children sat in the back. The fragrances from various meals escaped from their pots and formed mini people that danced around the house leaving a trace of footsteps that floated into everyones' nose.

 We all sat with one another varying in age, gender, and nationality laughing and reciting past and life experiences.

"Never go mudding with no underwear on," stated a unfamiliar boy dressed in camouflage.

 We all laughed even harder while smacking on biscuits dripping in honey. As always, I drenched by chicken in hot sauce and listened as it came to life in my mouth with a loud crunch. Nothing could compare to the emotional fullness and warmth the chicken provided on one's insides. The delicious recipe attracted everyone back just as a flame does with a moth. That day, some of those partaking of the dish had lost their jobs, homes, and even loved ones, but they knew grandma's crispy fried chicken would heal the wound making everything better. For they all arrived starving for love and warmth ,just a babe being brought into the world, and left not only full, but satisfied with what they had gained from the dish . 

The Angel Within

   Are you familiar with the term geode? According to New Standard Encyclopedia Dictionary, a geode is "a stone having a cavity lined with crystals." However, the outer appearance of the geode fails to reflect the inner beauty that's concealed within. Upon glancing at the rock, many individuals judge merely the outside. We as humans, also have the tendency to judge every and anything based solely on its' outer appearance. Yet, judgement shouldn't be placed on outer physical characteristics, rather the inside is only worthy of such judgement.
   The short story "A Very Old Man With Enormous Wings: A Tale For Children," written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, reveals the crucial judgement a spiritual creature receives due to his outer appearance. This applies in the world today due to the judgement passed on to individuals whose outer appearance fails to meet the normal body image set by society. Thinking back to the story, the spiritual creature was very old as well as damaged. As a result, the people threw rocks at him, tried feeding him moth balls, and even burned him with an hot iron. Now, you would think since the old man was an angel he would receive the proper judgement as being caring and loving. In addition, his main purpose for coming was to cure a child. In my opinion, the people had a image in their mind as an angel being strong and beautiful. Well, the old angel went against their thinking, and this caused them to behave in the terrible manner they did. The people were so distracted with the unattractive outside image that they couldn't realize the beautiful angel inside. Next, the people examined the angel as if he was a prisoner. I feel that if this was to occur today the angel would be examined as well, but it wouldn't be handled in the same manner.
   I strongly agree with my thesis statement. You can't figure out what sort of person someone is by glancing on the outer appearance. For example, I enjoy playing basketball. In fact, it's something I'm very skilled at doing. However, many people think since I'm a female that I lack the proper skills for such an aggressive sport, but once I play they no longer use such judgement. I feel it is ignorant to judge one's capabilities looking at the outside. Next, think about all of the homeless people you see on a daily basis. Many people view these people as useless and lacking education. This causes such individuals to ignore the beautiful qualities these homeless individuals may possess. I feel if these homeless individuals are the best sort of people there is. They are extremely humble to live such a life. Yet, no one notices this since they only focus on the social status of the homeless.
   In conclusion, beauty can't be judged on the outer person, rather it's the inner individual who decides that. I feel we as people need to adjust our thinking. Instead of passing judgement on a person by focusing on the brand of clothing they wear, their gender, or social status, why not focus on the kind of qualites they display. Just like the very old angel, they could have very good motives regardless of how they look. Therefore, why not focus on the angel that's within!

Rights of a Roadside Strip Search:Violated

      As American Citizens, we have the exclusive right to a proper search by state troopers and police officers of the United States. At times, roadside searches can be of benefit. Yet, their is a limit to the amount of contact that should take place during such a search. In addition, there should be a clear purpose as to why the search is taking place, and the necessary steps to conduct such a search should be carried out prior to the search. A specific article I read, "Women Win Lawsuit After Being Violated During Roadside Search,"captions the terrible experience two women faced while being searched by state troopers.

      This article depicts an improper roadside search involving two innocent women and two state troopers. To expound, two women, Angela and Ashley Dobbs, were making their way to Oklahoma when they were pulled over by State Trooper David Farrell due to discharging cigarette buds out of their windows. After pulling the women over, Farrell supposedly smelt marijuana. As a result, he took it upon himself to search the vehicle. According to criminal.findlaw.com, it is reasonable for a state trooper to examine a vehicle if he or she suspects one to have illegal drugs, but no clear possibility of drugs were presented. The women displayed no sign of any intake of drugs.This is clearly the first piece of evidence of the search gone wrong. In my opinion, Farrell should have gained the consent of the women to search the car. If denied, he should have then acquired a search warrant. Yet, Farrell fail to do both of these steps. Farrell striped the women of their fourth amendment. This displays a lack of respect to the women and their property. Next, after searching the car, no presence of marijuana was found. Hence, he called a female trooper, Kelly Helleson, to search the women. Finally, Farrell manages to carry out one of the women rights! This next piece of evidence puts the icing on the cake. Instead of a normal pat down search, Helleson has the audacity to examine each and every cavity of the women's body using the same pair of gloves. This included the anuses and vaginas of both women. Exactly, this is the most disgusting action that could ever be performed in the entire history of roadside searches. To me, this was extremely unnecessary and humiliating. No citizen of America should have to deal with such incidents. Just imagine the emotions experienced by the women as the trooper examined them in front of thousands of by passers. No doubt they were embarrassed.
      I strongly feel the women's rights were disregarded. Why? The women were forced to have their vehicle search with no clear reason. This car no doubt included some of the ladies personal and private items. I feel that Farrell used his position to bully the women in a sense. Next, Trooper Helleson fondled both Ashley and Angela. In my opinion, this was a form of sexual assault. The search should have never went to such a degree.
      In conclusion, the search carried out by the two troopers violated the ladies' rights. The search involved inappropriate and uncomfortable touching. After examining my points, do you think the troopers actions were necessary? According to Texas Department of Safety, the troopers actions were unacceptable, for the two women won a $185,000 lawsuit. After being fired, Helleson was charged with several counts, including sexual assault. What beautiful music to my ears! As for Farrell, he was suspended due to accusations of stealing addicting cough medicine from the women during the search. I feel regardless of gender, race, and age everyone has rights during a roadside strip search that should be obeyed. The question is will you as a citizen allow those rights to be violated or not?

http://www.opposingviews.com/i/society/crime/women-win-lawsuit-after-being-violated-during-roadside-search

   

      

Annotated Photo