We’ve just concluded a three day celebration of the 233^rd birthday of our great nation, during which many of the debates of recent days were left unattended to enjoy the parties, parades, BBQ’s and fireworks, and in the din of the rocket’s red glare, as it were, patriotism and faith were allowed to coexist as equal, but separate partners in the celebration.

Somewhere along the line we’ve forgotten not only that they can coexist, but that it was the original intent of the founding fathers that they do coexist.  Our great constitution doesn’t mandate that there be no religion in our lives or national posture, but rather that our government shall neither disavow faith nor dictate any preferential faith.  Separation of church and state as we currently practice it is more of a twentieth century concept than an eighteenth century one.  Faith in the Christian God was part of the formation of our nation, whether people today like it or not.  History can be re-written to make it more politically palatable but re-writes don’t change the facts; only our perception of them.  Sadly, it is also true that perception is reality to the one perceiving.

When my youngest child was in second grade, her teacher showed me the new social studies book they were now required to use.  Every reference to our Judeo-Christian heritage was either removed or sanitized.  The Pilgrims still left England, and still celebrated what we now call Thanksgiving Day, but for all the manipulation and disregard for truth in this fabrication, they may just as well have departed to get better seats at the Rose Bowl as for religious freedom.  The England left behind was one where women who knew the herbology of homeopathic medicine were burned as witches.  You’d never know that from a book that replaced Christmas, Easter and freedom to pray with Kwanza and Martin Luther King Day.

Were our forefathers believers in a Judeo-Christian national ethic?  Perhaps not all, but read the words of our first President:

“O eternal and everlasting God, …increase my faith in the sweet promises of the Gospel; give me repentance from dread works, pardon my wanderings and direct my thoughts unto thyself, the God of my salvation; teach me how to live in thy fear, labor in thy service, and ever to run in the ways of thy commandments; make me always watchful over my heart, that neither the terrors of conscience, the loathing of holy duties, the love of sin, nor an unwillingness to depart this life, may cast me into a spiritual slumber, but daily frame me more and more in the likeness of thy Son Jesus Christ.” – undated prayer from Washington’s prayer journal, Mount Vernon

Join me in prayer for nation, our leaders, and for a national awakening – before it’s too late.

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.   Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you.    And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.  (Jeremiah 29:11-13)

I live in Pittsburgh.  What can I say – someone has to. 

It’s an interesting place.  Locals call it the City of Champions.  Part of that is because this year for the first time ever both the NFL franchise and the NHL franchise won their respective championships in the same year.  For the NFL franchise, it was their sixth – first time an NFL team has done that.

The city has a strange affectation for sports.  A month or so back there was a headline that read “Big Ben Running on 150 Year Old Technology.”  The first thought most locals had was about the starting quarterback for the Steelers, whose nickname is Big Ben, and not the big clock in London.  I’m pretty sure some of ‘em never heard of the clock.

Not too long ago there was a night of shooting in a local neighborhood that left five kids dead.  The headline the next morning read : “Big Ben Feels Good Going Into Training Camp.”  No mention of the dead kids.

For the hockey team, not long ago they played the ‘we’re moving if you don’t build us a new arena” card.  The city buckled and broke ground on the new arena.  The Penguins then admitted that they never planned to leave – it was a ploy to get sympathy for the new house.  When they won the Stanley Cup last week, a teary eyed Mario Lemieux sobbed on about how the city almost lost the team.  He’s the guy who made the announcement that it was all a ploy.

Other folk refer to our little town as Pixburgh.    I think it’s part of local culture.  There is an entire subset of English here for which you sometimes need a translator to understand.

A nine course meal here is pierogies, Kielbasa, and a six-pack of Iron City beer…followed be funnel cake for dessert.

Dress up for cultural events is the sports ‘T’ of your choice, and matching ball cap.  It make sense – cultural events are defined by the number of kegs you can fit into the back of your SUV.  They take place in the parking lot at Heinz field or PNC Park.

This is not to say Pittsburgh doesn’t have its attraction.  It’s the only city I’ve ever been to that makes an entrance – especially at night.  My points of comparison include Chicago, New York City, Atlanta, Las Vegas, Detroit, Toronto, Washington DC, Charlotte, and Amsterdam (yeah – that one – the one in Europe).  Seeing it for the first time as you make that last turn on 279 or exit the tubes, it’s simply breathtaking!

And then there are things like Phipps Conservatory, the National Aviary, SandCastle, Kennywood, the Zoo and Aquarium, the Strip, and Station Square.

Hey – bet your city doesn’t have three rivers and a submarine to patrol them!

And then there’s All That Jazz!  Pittsburgh has a long heritage of great jazz and great jazz musicians.

Plus, best of all – I met my lovely wife here!

We don’t have a great big band show tune – you know, like Chicago, it’s my Kind of Town, or New York, New York!  But where we lack Sinatra, we have drunken southsiders in Steeler Black and Gold singing “Here We Go!”

And the most confusing street signs on the planet.

Ah, Pittsburgh.  Yinz come on down.

‘Conundrum’ - noun:

1.     A riddle in which a fanciful question is answered by a pun.

2.     A paradoxical, insoluble, or difficult problem; a dilemma:

It’s a stretch, but go with the flow, will you?  At least humor me because I’m an old guy.  Here’s the thing:

Several months back I started getting pain in the URQ (honest – that’s how the doctor charted it) – Upper Right Quadrant (somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant near Betazed, I think).  One night the pain was so bad I finally went in to the ER and had them take a look at it.  Gall Stones was the preliminary diagnosis, but a very tentative one.  The doc doing the ultra sound didn’t actually see any stones. 

He did say it looked like a boy – just kidding.

So he scheduled me for a more comprehensive ultra sound, and that resulted in the conundrum.  You’ll know what I mean.  The second scan confirmed the results of the first one – no stones – and therein do it lie, the problem.  I still have that doggone pesky URQ pain.  The tests say nothing is wrong, yet the discomfort persists, and here I sit with mixed emotions:  happy on the one hand that there don’t seem to be any gall stones, yet not so much because I’m still in pain, and there doesn’t seem to be a reason for it.

And so in the Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill, it’s back to the hospital today for some sort of ink-blot test where they put me under, pump in some ink/dye and watch to see if my gall bladder can write the great American Novel with it.

Or not.

In which case, I think the plan is to yank it, and replace it (we can rebuild him – we have the technology) with a custom designed rebuilt chrome plated USDA approved – oh hang on – wrong solution here.  They just yank it.  But not today.

Anyway, kick-off is scheduled for 11:45 EDST, just under three and a half hours from now.

Maybe when I wake up they’ll let me have the cuppa I had to skip in preparation for the knock-out drops.