Baby Safety Compromised

Most states, for the safety of newborn babies, have laws where newborns can be dropped off at a police station, fire department, or hospital, and no questions will be asked. Of course, the babies can't just be dumped, but if the mother feels they are unable to care for the child, they can turn it over to the authorities.

This law was adopted quite simply, to prevent babies from showing up in dumpsters when their mothers felt they had nowhere else to turn. And so far, with the support of nearly everyone, the laws have been doing as they intended- saving the lives of innocent babies.

Yet in steps our media, and instead of keeping this safe, yet tragic experience private, they feel the need to report on it and let everyone know what is going on. Of course, in their own defense, they state they never release the name of the mother. However, I've heard them give somewhat of the following description:

"A young Latino woman, approximately 16 years old, dressed in a red tshirt with blue jeans, with long black hair, dropped her baby off at Fix You Methodist Hospital at approximately 8:30 p.m. The girl, probably a neighborhood teen, since she wasn't driving a car, was escorted by a young man who is apparently the father. The young man, still wearing his Thrown Rod Auto Repair uniform, cried as the couple departed and walked north toward Main Street. To keep this young couple's identity anonymous, we will not say that they went into the fourth house down on the right."

Now, do these morons not know that by releasing so much information about the incident, that they are virtually giving away the mother's identity, and making others that might make the same decision to hesitate out of fear of exposure?

I am all for the free press, but with freedom comes responsibility. Unfortunately our newscasters have forgotten this.

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Tokyo to Manila

The flight from Tokyo to Manila was delayed for an hour, hurray. Since I didn't want Annie hanging around at the airport any longer than necessary, I began the fun of trying to call her.

While this might sound simple, believe me it isn't. There were at least 11 different kinds of pay phones, each which used a different type of calling card. The calling card dispenser, of course, only took Yen. So after making my way 3/4 of the way through the international terminal to the gift shop to purchase a calling card (they took American dollars, and it cost $9 for 15 minutes, by the way), I finally made it back to the phone bank. That is when the real fun began.

Of course all the instructions on the card were in Japanese, and there were at least 20 possible combinations you could use as your calling card number, not to mention three different instruction sets on the payphone. Do I enter the prefix? The symbols? The control number? Neither? Both? All? Grrrrrrr!

Sometimes I might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I can usually use a payphone. But not here. And after 30 minutes of trying, I finally gave up and threw my hands in the air in frustration. But I couldn't let Annie sit around that airport, especially not that late at night. So I tried once again, and guess what? I finally got it to work! It was just minutes before we were to take off again, but at least I got through.

I spoke with Annie for a moment, advised her what was going on, then hung up and headed back over toward the gate. But I didn't make it far. The other dozen or so people attempting to use the phones and having the same difficulties as I had been having, all elected me as the official phone trainer of Narita International Airport. Hurray again.

But there was one basic problem: I had no idea how I finally got it to work. I was so happy about getting through, that I completely drew a blank on which phone instructions I used, which prompts I used, and which combinations of numbers from the calling card finally worked.

After tossing out a few suggestions that weren't working for anyone, it appeared everyone was getting as frustrated with me as they were the phones, so I quietly sneaked off as they had a group discussion about how bad the phones were. Even though I was 18 inches taller than everyone else, I had managed to keep a low profile for most of the day and night, and I knew this would be a good time to continue.

Eventually it was time to board the plane, and I finally made it on with no additional troubles.

The flight wasn't too bad, and the only thing worth mentioning was the Filipina that fell asleep on my shoulder half way through the flight. Unfortunately I was too tired to thump my chest like Tarzan and enjoy it long, and before I knew it, I was sound asleep myself. I was ready to land in Manila, but I didn't have any idea when I'd be able to sleep again.

Not until moments before we landed did the both of us wake up, and when we did, we grinned at each other, then talked for a moment before landing. She was nice, so was her friend sitting in the other seat, but I didn't get to talk to them long, because the kid in the seat behind me started puking up her toenails. Yuck. But luckily we landed quickly, taxi'd to the terminal, and got off the plane quickly. Unfortunately, that was the last quick thing that would be happening to me for a long, long time......

After exiting the plane, it was off to retreive my luggage, go through customs, and then immigration. It took about an hour and a half to do all of them, the place was packed with as many people as it could possibly hold, and we had been sent to the wrong luggage pickup. But, once it was finally my turn, my stuff was just waved through, my passport stamped and I was waved through just as quickly. Being big and white does have its advantages.

I exited the terminal and entered a large waiting area, but Annie was nowhere to be found. My heart raced, I wondered if she had misunderstood me, and thought I said the flight was delayed for a day, and not just an hour? But no need to panic, I'll just call her. Easy, of course, now that I'm in the Philippines. WRONG!

After finding another phone bank, I once again tried to call her, with absolutely no luck. I guess the Japanese "global" card wasn't so global. And of course, nothing I tried worked, not even the combination I thought worked in Japan. Grrrrr! What is the deal with these phones? Ah, no one uses them but morons, everyone else has a cell phone. That's it.

Finally after 30 minutes and still no Annie, I asked a police officer standing there if he had seen a girl matching Annie's description. Luckily I had the foresight to ask her what color top she would be wearing so I could spot her more easily.

"She's nearly 5'1'', 95 pounds, black hair, brown eyes, brownish skin, and has on a red top" I told him.

The officer didn't say a word. He simply turned and looked at the crowd of people walking by, then turned and looked at me again. Yap, I was an idiot, that is for sure. I just described 99% of the females in the terminal. Jeesh. He never said it, but I could sense he agreed with me that I was an idiot.

Luckily the officer felt some pity for me, so he directed me to another waiting area a few hundred paces from where I was at. And I'm glad he did, I would have never found it if it hadn't of been for him.

At this point, I panicked once again for a moment, as the sign said for family names A-L to go to the left, and for M-Z to go to the right. Can't anything be simple? Do I go where MY name should go, or HER name? But then I thought for a moment, and luckily Briley & Lobo were both on the same side. Whew.

As I walked down the dark tunnel, I finally spotted her standing at the other end next to her friend Rogie, who I had seen online several times but never met in person. Talk about relief, I was stranded no more! Life was good once again!

Annie and I darted toward each other, then after a big hug and a sweaty kiss to her forehead, we exited the waiting area, walked outside, and began searching for a taxi. I was now in Manila, like it or not, and it was time to get me away from the airport. I had enjoyed my flights, my layovers, and my phone ordeals, but it was time to move on with life.......

And there was no doubt this was Manila. The strong, eye burning smell of pollution and fumes filled the air, and the craziness of cars zig-zagging with no regards for signs, stripes, or even the police was happening right in front of me. And the horns..... Not even New York City during rush hour can compare.

Eventually, after a long walk outside of the airport, Annie found a taxi willing to give us a ride to Alabang (Muntinlupa) at a cheaper rate than the airport taxis. So we hopped in, got comfortable, and began our journey....... And what a journey it was.......

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Happy Marriage

With a couple celebrating their 50th anniversary at the church's marriage marathon, the minister asked Brother Ralph to take a few minutes and share some insight into how he managed to survive with the same woman all these years.

The husband replied to the audience, "Well, I treated her with respect, spent money on her, but mostly I took her traveling on special occasions."

The minister inquired trips to where? "For our 25th anniversary, I took her to Beijing, China."
The minister then said, "What a terrific example you are to all husbands, Ralph. Please tell the audience what you're going to do for your wife on your 50th anniversary?"

Ralph: "I'm going to go get her."