Seriously, now...

If your 15-year-old daughter was posing for photographs, and the photographer talked her into taking off her shirt (which your daughter had no intention of doing upon arrival) and if those photographs were published in a national magazine, would you or would you not be calling the cops and reporting said photographer?

But hey, apparently if you are Billy Ray Cyrus and if your daughter is Miley Cyrus, whom you carelessly thrust into the limelight at a very tender age and if the photographer is the famous Annie Leibovitz (of whom Miley says, "You just can't say no to Annie..."), then I guess you allow your daughter to take the blame and apologize to all the fans.

I'm sorry, folks but a 15-year-old is still a child who needs parental guidance, no matter how talented she is. Where were mom and dad during that photo shoot? Apparently, they were there, nodding approvingly. Why wasn't Billy Ray standing up to Annie and saying, "No, you will not photograph my minor daughter half naked."

I heard a news commentator say this morning that it was Vanity Fair's fault. No it wasn't. It was Miley's parents' fault. If you put your minor child in the public eye and allow them to be scrutinized, ogled, criticized, worshiped, glammed up, etc., this is what happens. Let society treat your kid like a piece of meat, and sooner or later, the media will take it all the way to porn. Okay, arty porn, since it's Annie Leibovitz, but it's still porn in my book.

Wake up, Billy Ray. It's your daughter who's going to wake up one day with the achy breaky heart, and you're not going to be able to fix it.

--Sparki

BTW, I was going to link over to the Vanity Fair site, but there is this über creepy shot of Miley and Billy Ray on the front page that looks...well...just don't go there. Billy Ray Cyrus isn't making very good decisions about what positions his daughter is photographed in. And the article will just horrify you as it reveals that Miley's grueling schedule hasn't included a more than one consecutive day off since Christmas 2006 (she is FIFTEEN, folks!), that Billy Ray and his wife Tish let Miley watch Sex and the City, and that Miley admits to just not having any emotions to speak of.

Congratulations to the new Mr. & Mrs. James T.!!!

My husband's cousin was married Saturday at this spectacular church in downtown Omaha. I do wish there was better photograph of it, because it's stunningly beautiful. And so was the bride. Exceptionally radiant! A most happy occasion for all.

My son was happiest about getting out of his suit afterwards. My daughters liked dancing at the reception and downing bowls of white chocolate and chocolate gelato.

I had the horrifying experience of losing my youngest daughter for about 5 minutes in the Omaha Embassy Suites. Scooter asked if she could go talk to my husband across the banquet room. I said yes because I had him in plain sight. I watched her heading straight toward him. Then I was distracted by a cousin, chatted for a minute or so, and decided it was time to pack up the kids and take them home. But when I got to my husband, Scooter wasn't with him -- he thought she'd come back to me.

We both assumed she was with either Grandma or a favorite cousin. No dice. Suddenly, 12 people were fanning out to look for her. I checked the ladies' room and then went straight to the front desk to ask them to lock down the doors. Within another minute, the aforementioned favorite cousin saw the elevator doors open and Scooter calmly walking out. She grabbed her and brought her back to us.

Scooter calmly told me that she wasn't lost at all. She was going up to Grandma's hotel room to change out of her dress for the ride home. She walked into the elevator and pressed 6 (the correct floor), but couldn't remember which room (they all look alike). So she kept trying door handles, but they were all locked. Another guest at the wedding, God bless him, saw her and suggested that she find her mother (sensible man). So she got back on the elevator (with him following), pushed 2 for the banquet rooms floor (also correct), and got off to find numerous panicked relatives including a sobbing big sister.

After I could catch my breath again -- it's so hard not to cry in these situations, but with my 5-year-old in tears, I couldn't very well lose it myself -- she was properly scolded and felt bad enough to cry and want to be held very, very tightly. Then we did go up to Grandma's room, change into jammies, brush teeth and pile into the van for the long ride home.

Scooter's punishment is that she has to hold a grown-up's hand in public wherever we go this whole week. The preschool teacher has been duly informed and enlisted in the hand-holding enforcement. Conversations yesterday proved that she understands the gravity of the situation; hopefully the public "embarrassment" of having to hold hands at all times with an adult will make the lesson unforgettable.

Because honestly, since nothing bad happened, she'd probably try to do it again.

Thank you, God, for keeping my baby safe and helping her find her way back to us.

--Sparki

Funeral for a Friend

Chip Hackley was one of the best writers I knew, and also a gentleman in the truest sense of the word. At his funeral today, his pastor spoke about how Chip treated every person with dignity, and that is very, very true.

May God rest his soul.

Read a little bit more about Chip here -- and really, it is just a little. He did so much more in his life!

Chip was an avid outdoorsman. He loved canoeing and hiking and fishing. In fact, when I was writing a catalog for Old Town Canoe Co., I was at his desk every day, asking him to either teach me about canoeing or to tell me a story about one of his canoe trips, several of which were featured in the catalog in a fictionalized presentation.

And here's a poem that Chip wrote in 1995, which was printed on the back of his funeral bulletin. "Portage" refers to hiking from one river to another, usually with a backpack on your shoulders and one end of a canoe over your head, while your buddy (or son or wife or brother or coworker, in Chip's case) held up the other end.

My portage
is long
and the pack I've chosen
is so heavy that energy ebbs
with each struggling step
along the rocky path.
But now between the distant trees
a patch of sky
and a glimpse of blue water.
The end
and the beginning.

--Sparki

Prayer Requests

Please pray for 8-year-old Megan M., who was recently diagnosed and underwent brain surgery for a brain tumor. It's medulloblastoma, a rather hostile cancer. She's a real sweetheart with a ton of faith, but she and her family (dad, grandma, sister, aunts) need to be upheld in prayer.

Also, if you could please pray for the repose of the soul of my coworker Chip and for the peace and support of his wife of 50-some odd years, Pat, I would appreciate it. Chip died in his sleep last night, and I feel very deeply for his wife.

--Sparki

Mmmmmmmm!

Okay, these dark chocolate truffles are really, really, REALLY good!

(Sorry, Mrs. B-B, but the package says they may contain traces of tree nuts. I'll have to eat your share...and I can't tell you how sorry I am about that!)

--Sparki