Not so very different

We went to hear a speach last night by the gal who wrote Nickeled and Dimed: Barbara Ehrenreich. She is unabashedly a socialist. She's also got quite a good sense of comedic timing, well worth hearing just for her skill at speaking. And she has some very valid points to make.
Her solutions? Well, we disagree.
One thing that I think many of us, I know I do, frequently forget in political discourse, is that almost everyone agrees on the problems. Everyone agrees that violent crime is a problem. The disagreement is on the solution. Everyone agrees that poverty is a problem. Lack of health care is a problem. We disagree on how best to solve these problems. We tend to demonize our opponents, forgetting that we're all trying to solve the same issues. Some solutions are more likely to work than others, some have been tried in the past and failed.
So when you're struggling to explain to people who just doesn't get why government-run universal health care is a bad idea, or a good idea, or whatever your particular view is, remember, they don't think people ought to be left without health care. They just think a different solution is better than yours. They agree on the problem.
You can apply this to any issue. Pro-gun people are just as concerned about violence as anti-gun. Anti-welfare people are just as concerned about poverty as pro-welfare people. The folks who operate a shelter in the church basement are just as concerned about homelessness as the folks who advocate public housing projects. Conservative hunters are just as concerned about the environment as anti-hunting environmental activists.
The only folks who really don't care about an issue are the ones profiting by it. I'm talking about the folks who get re-elected over and over, claiming they are for this or against that, but never actually doing anything about it. The folks who stand on tv saying "Send donations to stop this travesty now," then hop in their limos with their drivers and bodyguards to go back to their multi-million doller mansions, paid for by your donations.
It's not even that they don't care about it, it's that they're on the other side from all the rest of us. Where would the folks who get elected on welfare reform be if welfare were actually reformed? Where would the anti-racisim activists be if people ceased to believe in racisim? Out of a job, that's where. The anti-gun groups would end if guns became illegal, if gun restrictions ended, the pro-gun groups would vanish. All these people have a vested interest in the status quo: if a solution that works is found, they're done for.
Those are the folks you have to watch out for, those whose jobs and income depend on the issue continuing. That's one of the problems with these political groups, these activist groups. Money eventually trumps values. If you've got money to donate to this cause or that, my advice is to stick to true charity and even more, to physical giving. A few cases of food or diapers for the homeless shelter, that sort of thing. Or pick the recipient of your charity yourself: there are, after all, poor folk all around. The last thing any of us should want is for our desire to help others to end up funding those who have a vested interest in continuing the problems we want to solve.

Three Sisters

Actually, there are four, but one isn't involved in this. Yet. They are all within five years of age, I think. All musicians, we all played in orchestras together as children. Three of the four, violin, viola, and 'cello, are married. Violin sister has one son, and expects her second child this summer. Viola and 'cello expect their first babies within a month of violin's. (They have some younger siblings, too, but the oldest of these is some eight years younger.)
I was chatting with 'cello. We've worked together, played together, and I called her up to see if she were interested in playing in the ensemble I'm putting together. (She is.) She and her two sisters have decided to homeschool. She tells me this because she knows (of course, we've known each other since we were children) that I was homeschooled. Everyone likes positive reinforcement. They are going to take turns. None of them have much money, and none are sure they can afford to stay home. But if they can get different work schedules, between the three (and the other sister, too, if she marries and has children, and she probably will, the family is LDS) they can cover their children all the time.
'Cello sister works right now as a lunch lady, and a music teacher in the elementary after school strings program. She hated public school, and she hates what she sees happening to the children she sees there. Her sisters all work in the same strings program, and all agree.
I bring this up because it occurs to me that it is another option for those who can't afford to homeschool. These days, the low-pay jobs many folks are stuck in require widly varying workweeks. If one mother can get Monday and Tuesday off, another Wednesday and Thursday, and the third, Friday and Saturday, and at least one father get a Sunday, then the children are covered. Ideal situation? Certainly not, but it's better than the alternatives.
"Keep in touch." I told her. "We're homeschooling our children, too." (I know her folks, with some kids still in the public schools, are going to see three of their four eldest's decision as a condemnation of their choices, at best. They'll all need encouragement.)
"At least I can be sure my children get a better education than I did." She said.

Spring today

But not yesterday.
Saturday, after teaching, we took the boys to the local hospital for the Teddy Bear Clinic. Beau took Elephant and Hemi took Poopy Bunny. But we told the staff, when they asked for Poopy Bunny's name, that he was just Bunny. (Beau named him, though he's Hemi's toy, because Beau wanted to practice 'changing his diaper'. Bunny doesn't actually wear a diaper, but you know children . . .)

Elephant got a cast on his nose, Bunny got one on his arm. The boys had a good time. Saturday night, a wind storm blew in. We lost power a little after seven. Beau does not like not having electricity. Hemi tried to blow out all the candles. We were very happy for our gas stove: Daddy was in the middle of making crepes for dinner when we lost power. Hot coffee and hot cocoa for breakfast Sunday morning were much appreciated, too. (And yes, we were quite safe to use it, the over-the-stove vent is of the dryer style and flaps considerably when there is wind. You can feel the cool draft from it if you stand by the stove. We used the stove for nothing but cooking, anyway.) We got power back twice briefly during the night, but it was gone again by six am, when the boys got up. It never got colder than sweater wearing in the house. The wind brought snow with it, though not much, it drifted quite a bit. It melted fast enough on Sunday that we didn't have to shovel. Apparently my parents got quite a lot more out at their place. It took the power company a lot longer to get their power back: ours was back by ten am, they didn't get theirs until mid-afternoon.
We're tired of the boys waking up at dawn, so Sunday I ripped the seams out of the old futon cover, which we took off the futon when we made it into their bed (it has another cover, but being a picky housewife, I didn't like the color so had made this one). Then I measured, cut, backed it with an old white sheet, and made new curtains for their room. The boys slept 'til quarter-to-seven this morning, so the new, much heavier and thicker curtains were declared a success. We definitely don't want them getting up at dawn all summer, when dawn comes at 4:30 am.
I planted the rest of the seeds this morning, uncovered the okra and tomatillo pots (all the seeds have sprouted), looked over the rest of my sprouts, and watered where required. The cucumbers are just about pushing their plastic wrap off, even though not all the seeds have come up in each pot. I'll be satisfied if I get two sprouts out of three, but two of the pots have only one thus far.
And I'm doing laundry. The boys are all out of pants, those were supposed to get washed Saturday evening. I hear the washer is done, so it's off to check the towels in the dryer. I've got the heater off today, it is so warm out, and a few of the windows (those without plants) open a little to let some fresh air in.
Who can worry about politics and the state of humanity when there is sunshine and fresh air? More people need to get outside and smell the fresh soil, then they won't be so grumpy. And once I get the boys pants dried, we'll be outside kicking a soccer ball around.

Spring today

But not yesterday.
Saturday, after teaching, we took the boys to the local hospital for the Teddy Bear Clinic. Beau took Elephant and Hemi took Poopy Bunny. But we told the staff, when they asked for Poopy Bunny's name, that he was just Bunny. (Beau named him, though he's Hemi's toy, because Beau wanted to practice 'changing his diaper'. Bunny doesn't actually wear a diaper, but you know children . . .)

Elephant got a cast on his nose, Bunny got one on his arm. The boys had a good time. Saturday night, a wind storm blew in. We lost power a little after seven. Beau does not like not having electricity. Hemi tried to blow out all the candles. We were very happy for our gas stove: Daddy was in the middle of making crepes for dinner when we lost power. Hot coffee and hot cocoa for breakfast Sunday morning were much appreciated, too. (And yes, we were quite safe to use it, the over-the-stove vent is of the dryer style and flaps considerably when there is wind. You can feel the cool draft from it if you stand by the stove. We used the stove for nothing but cooking, anyway.) We got power back twice briefly during the night, but it was gone again by six am, when the boys got up. It never got colder than sweater wearing in the house. The wind brought snow with it, though not much, it drifted quite a bit. It melted fast enough on Sunday that we didn't have to shovel. Apparently my parents got quite a lot more out at their place. It took the power company a lot longer to get their power back: ours was back by ten am, they didn't get theirs until mid-afternoon.
We're tired of the boys waking up at dawn, so Sunday I ripped the seams out of the old futon cover, which we took off the futon when we made it into their bed (it has another cover, but being a picky housewife, I didn't like the color so had made this one). Then I measured, cut, backed it with an old white sheet, and made new curtains for their room. The boys slept 'til quarter-to-seven this morning, so the new, much heavier and thicker curtains were declared a success. We definitely don't want them getting up at dawn all summer, when dawn comes at 4:30 am.
I planted the rest of the seeds this morning, uncovered the okra and tomatillo pots (all the seeds have sprouted), looked over the rest of my sprouts, and watered where required. The cucumbers are just about pushing their plastic wrap off, even though not all the seeds have come up in each pot. I'll be satisfied if I get two sprouts out of three, but two of the pots have only one thus far.
And I'm doing laundry. The boys are all out of pants, those were supposed to get washed Saturday evening. I hear the washer is done, so it's off to check the towels in the dryer. I've got the heater off today, it is so warm out, and a few of the windows (those without plants) open a little to let some fresh air in.
Who can worry about politics and the state of humanity when there is sunshine and fresh air? More people need to get outside and smell the fresh soil, then they won't be so grumpy. And once I get the boys pants dried, we'll be outside kicking a soccer ball around.

Interesting times

Last week I caught my mom, the Bush-can-do-no-wrong-Republicans-can-do-no-evil-Democrats-can-do-no-good-Libertarians-are-all-druggies member of the family arguing IN FAVOR of open borders. (Subject under discussion was Bill Frist's immigration plan.)

This week, we're discussing marriage and the government's role in the same. Interesting times.

Mom is (predictably) arguing pro Constitutional ammendment to prohibit gay marriage. Dad is (predictably) arguing anti. I'm arguing that the pesky little clause about Congress shall make no law regarding an establishment of religion means that the Constitution has already spoken on marriage and it ain't none of government's business. (Marriage is Church business.)

It'll be fun to see what Mom and Dad write back. (We do a lot of this on email, it's good to be able to edit for clarity, and where we know each other so well, we don't misinterpret much. I could just about write their arguments for them.)

My family's great, when they aren't driving me batty. I'm going to convince one or both of them that I'm right. The question is always which one and when. Mom still won't agree that there's no legitimate purpose for martial law. Dad didn't even have to think before agreeing with me on that.

This is, perhaps, why you shouldn't homeschool your children. They might, just maybe, learn how to think. And then, you know, when they disagree with you on something, they might just convince you that that they are right. It might be uncomfortable.

What do you get when you cross a Christian Republican with an Athiest Democrat?

Me.

Spring Planting

I am planting. Not outside, of course, that won't happen for another two months or so. I am starting all my seeds that need a longer growing season than we have here, though. Last year I used the little peat pellets that expand when you put them in water. After two months, the plants were long and leggy with poor root systems. So this year I am trying seed starting soil in 4" pots. Hopefully I will get better root systems this way.
Yesterday I planted until I ran out of pots. Then I called up my Dad, and asked him if he could find me some more in my parents' garage. He thought he could, and this morning Mom showed up with a bagful. Dad's new pacemaker is triggering his heartbeats 97% of the time, and the result is he's feeling a lot better. His brain still isn't as sharp as it used to be, but it hasn't been since he had the bypass surgery five years ago. It's still sharp enough to drive his tongue! So I've been bugging Dad lately about whatever I can think of that he might have input on. I think it's good for him. He likes to have a pity party and feel sorry for himself, and if I treat him normally (or close to), then he can't justify the "Poor me" line so easily.
I've planted two varieties of tomatos, hot peppers, tomatillos, okra, Armenian cucumbers, pumpkins, Kabocha squash, and cantaloupes. I still need to plant the sweet peppers and the eggplant. I think. I've got it all written down, but I'm going from memory here, and my memory is always lousey when I'm pregnant. What's my name again?
One of the tomatos, the Pruden's Purple, is an heirloom. My other tomato is a hybred plum. The difference between the Pruden's seeds and the plum's seeds was quite remarkable. The Pruden's seeds were brown (earth colored) and smooth. The plum had fuzzy white seeds. The plum seeds were easier to see and to hold on to. The Pruden's seeds seemed difficult, until I got to the Tomatillo. The Tomatillo (a relative of the tomato, for those who don't know, the fruits grow in little 'paper lanterns' and are pretty, they are green when ripe and good for salsa) has seeds shaped like a tomato, but perhaps an eighth the size, and just as brown and smooth as the Pruden's. I did get them all planted, and I'm pretty pleased with that.
We're trying an okra, it's a short-season okra, and it might grow here. My husband loves okra, so if it does well, I'll plant a bunch next year. But for this year, I'm just doing one plant. The okra seeds looked very strange after planting the others. They are little round green balls. Hard to hold onto, but not as hard as the Tomatillo.
When I'm done, I will have forty-two pots of seeds. I'm starting to run out of window space already, and I've still got ten to go. The soil I'm using smells just yummy, so I hope the plants will grow as well as the soil smells like they should.
Some of the plants will go into pots on the front porch instead of the garden. A few tomatos, a pepper or two. We'll see how they do there. If they grow well all summer I'll bring them inside in the fall. Mom used to keep cherry tomatos on the south windowsils all winter, and we'd get a few tomatos each week. They have to be hand fertilized when they're inside. I don't buy fresh tomatos in the winter, except for special occasions, so any would be more than we get now. I've also got some cabbage family plants (cabbage, brocoli, Napa cabbage) to grow inside next fall: the aphids are terrible on them outside here, and I don't like pesticides around the children.
Of course, the pickling cucumbers, the beets, the carrots and parsnips, the beans, peas, corn, zucchini, lettuce, spinach will all be planted straight in the ground. They all have less than a 50 day growing season, or can germinate (corn) or grow (parsnips) in cold soils. I'm going to get some Jerusalem Artichokes from my folks, they're a tuber crop from the sunflower family, and should work quite well to hide the neighbors. They grow six or seven feet tall easily, and even flower. I don't care for the taste, but I understand that they are one of the few crops that still produced back in the Year without a Summer. I remember that they are recommended as a carbohydrate for diabetics, but cannot recall why. They'll make an excellent screen, with a secondary use if we should ever need it.
We're planning on adding a Reliance Peach tree to the yard, and possibly ordering some grapes for the back (west) fence next summer. When we're all done, we should have a nice, private, productive yard. Private is a key word in this neighborhood, where the homes are so close together, and I can't wait until we can finish fencing it to keep the feral children out.
Oh, and my tulips are coming up! I'm quite excited. Even snow Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday didn't discourage them. It looks like the little basswood tree we transplanted last fall may have survived, too, at least, its buds look like they're swelling from the window.

'Cello Roundup

I'm putting together an ensemble for the yearly Crusade for Strings concert. The gal organizing it is very concerned that everyone should be good players. I got the "Are your students good enough to play in this?" question. I think I answered it to her satisfaction. The piece is Bile Them Cabbage Down, arranged by Rick Mooney. You can find the place that carries it at http://www.nationalcelloinstitute.com/ if you are intersted in such things. They stock a lot of 'cello ensemble music. I'm looking forward to getting more.
But, it's a four-part peice. And I'd like to get at least two, three would be better, 'cellists on each part. So I'm calling local 'cellists, trying to get a group rounded up. One gentleman I've known for years (since I was five and he was six and we played on the same soccer team, well before either of us played 'cello) has a song I think recorded by his band that you hear when you call his cell phone before he answers. He said "I guess I could." which, coming from him, is a hearty "Yes, I'd love to, let me know when."
I called the gentleman who teaches at the university and told his answering machine all about it. He's got four or five students, I believe, at the moment. I've got six, but I'd only ask five at the most to participate, and a couple of them are out of towners, so iffy if they could make rehersals. (The brand new beginner, well, we've got to get her chinese factory made 'cello to stay in tune for more than five seconds first, and she really is brand new. As in "This is what music looks like?" new.)
I know a young lady who's pretty good, studies with a Suzuki teacher down in Salt Lake, whose mom I'll try to reach later. Then there's the symphony 'cellists, and hopefully the university gentleman has their numbers, otherwise, it's back to the phone book.
If this works out well, I'd really like to start a 'cello choir. If you've never heard one, and you get a chance to, it's quite something. I know there are enough 'cellists in town who are good enough to pull off the Bachianas Brazilieras, (two of them require 8 'cellists) and those would be really fun. We'd have to find a good soprano for the one, the other is just eight 'cellos. I forget how many there are total, but the others call for other instrumentation.
You know, I really need to call the accountant from my Eastern Star chapter and figure out when I need to set up some sort of corporation to cover my music.

My Goodness! Am I busy!

Well, I've got TWO new 'cello students this week. Which I am very excited about, one adult and one child. I can use the money, and while the child has played for a while (family recently moved to the area) the adult is a beginner. She bought a 'cello at one of the local music stores, I am more than a little scared to see what she got taken for. (Do not, under any circumstances, buy an instrument about which you know nothing, without first consulting someone who knows something and TAKE THEM WITH YOU!!!) She also bought a music book. This is a very bad idea: all teachers have their own prefered books to teach from. She did not buy the Schroeder I and Suzuki I books I start beginers with. I know this because that store WILL NOT carry the music I ask them to. This is why I send my students to a different store which will stock the music I ask for. Which I need to call and ask them to start stocking the Bach Six Suites, I have three students who will shortly need them.
Anyway, it should be quite interesting, I meet the little girl today, the woman on Sat. The girl is another home schoolar. I love teaching home schoolers. And retired folks. They have flexible schedules. I have to cram all my working people/public school kids into a couple hours Wednesday evening and Saturday morning. The home schoolers/retired folks are spread out throughout the day on Wednesday. It's so much easier. And they actually practice. As in, home schooled children are much, much more likely to practice than public schooled children are. Their parents make it a priority.
I do have two canceled lessons today, one young lady has to play at her school's 'Art Festival' during her normal lesson time, and one young gentleman called me this morning "Mom slipped and fell and hurt her back shoveling snow. She can't drive me into town for my lesson." I'm quite sure the lady in question would appreciate prayer: she has a history of nasty back problems and shouldn't have been shoveling snow (or lifting anything over ten pounds) in the first place.
Then, I played this gig downtown at a little shop, the down town shops do an Art Walk the first Friday of every month. (This was the day before I came down with the flu.) It went very well. Now, my husband, through his astronomy prof, has become aquainted with a gentleman who owns a coffee shop right by campus. Who likes to have musicians come in and play. Who puts out a hat, and seeds it, for musicians. All of a sudden the opertunities are rolling in, and we can really use the cash. Now, with Baby on the way, I just need some energy.
Dad forwarded me an email from one of his museum coworkers, who got it from a friend who got it from . . . who knows the whole chain, but it's a group trying to start up a natural foods co-op here in town. I emailed the gal who started the email, she had very nicely put her email in the body of the orriginal message, and so I guess I'm getting involved with that. I think it's a great idea, I'm just a little worried it will cut into the profits of the folks who run the Butcher Block, but there isn't anywhere to get anything natural except meat/cheese right now when the Farmers' Market isn't running. I'd like to be able to get natural dairy if we could: the boys drink six galleons of milk a week between the two of them. My husband thinks it's a good idea if I think it's a good idea, he leaves food decisions strictly up to me except for an occasional "Is there enough money left in the budget to go out to dinner?"
He leaves the budget up to me, too. And balancing the checkbook, and paying the bills. Which, of course, having been too sick to think for over a week, I am quite behind on. At least the utility companies don't charge much in the way of late fees.
Anyway, my husband, being a sweetheart, is out shoveling my parents' driveway. They are too cheap to buy an expensive gravel-proof snowblower, too cheap to pave the thing and buy a cheap snowblower, and too broken down to shovel themselves. Dad's pacemaker seems to be working well so far, and he's mostly over the flu. Mom's broken ribs aren't yet healed, they're taking their own sweet time about it.
Since it is spring break, I have my husband around most of the time, which is lovely. Mom has been hauling her grandsons off hither, thither, and yon, and all three have been enjoying it. The kitchen no longer looks or smells like a biohazard (flu is not conducive to dishwashing), and the livingroom is mostly tidy again, or at least, as tidy as it ever gets. Laundry is still behind, but I'm working on it.
So I'm busy, but it's mostly a good sort of busy. Life's treating us pretty well just now. Now, if we can just get that wretched former employer of my husband's to cough up the W-2 so we can file these stupid taxes (our income is too low to have to file otherwise but because I'm self-employed we have to file so they can steal SSI from me) . . . The IRS says we should get it by Thursday, we'll see what happens. Anyway, do not work for Teleperformance USA, we are not the only people we know whom they have refused to send a W-2 to. There is a way we can file without getting it, but it's going to be a headache, as is everything when the government is involved.

Type A Influenza

Not only have I nothing to say, except whining, but even if I did it wouldn't be coherent. My husband and my dad got it nearly simultaneously, Dad in spite of a flu shot. He was in the hospital for a pacemaker at the time he got sick. Lucky Mom. Dad is an ornery patient. He's hme now, pacemaker sucessful and the worst of the flu past. And, thus far, Mom is the only one who hasn't caught the flu. I got it after my husband, and the boys after me. They have both had flu shots, though my husband and I had not.
I even canceled lessons for this week, which means I will have to make them up next week, which is spring break for my husband and which I really wanted to have off.
So, I'll see you all in a few more days.
Oh, I now have an answer to what is worse than dirty diapers and morning sickness. I could have lived without that!

Multiculturalism

Lots of people say this is a bad thing. Lots of others say it's a good thing. I say it depends. Depends on which parts of which cultures you're combining.
Oh, I guess I should say that you can't have multiculturalism without combining cultures. Otherwise you get a bunch of seperate cultures with different traditions living side-by-side and not getting along.
How do you get multiculturalism? Generally by marriages between people from different cultures. So, you see, my mom (and by extension, me) learned how to make Pulla for Christmas breakfast and Matsilaatiko for New Years Day. My father's family was Finnish. Dad doesn't cling too tightly to the customs of his youth, but certain holidays require certain foods. And that's that.
Now my kids have another set of customs from another culture, in addition to the ones passed on from my father's family. Some clothing, some great music, dancing, and a lot of food. A little custom that whoever's in the house at meal time gets fed, whether or not they were expected to be there. It's a nice, friendly, custom. It also means we eat a lot more soups and stews than steaks and pork chops. It's easier to stretch a stew than four portions of meat.
So that's multiculturalism. You take what's nice, what's important, about one culture, and you blend it into the other. You don't sacrifice anything important from the other culture. I know three other families who started with my husband's cultural background on one side, his three siblings' families. Each of those families has used different bits of it. Except for food. If something's going on, there's always food. Even though as far as I can tell one sister-in-law could burn water.

A Good Dream

Usually my dreams are pretty bad, but I had the nicest dream last night. My Beau was all grown up, and he was such a delightful young man. And I got to meet the girl he was going to marry. Her nickname was Jilly, and it's short for Julia. And she's a sweetie.
Real? Dunno. I can hope. I guess I'll find out in a few years.
Life wasn't perfect, of course, but that dream put a smile on my face all day. If Jilly's real, she'd be two-years-old right now, 'cause she's a year younger than he is. Beau was just such a great guy.
Considering that right now he's three and whines a lot, I needed that reassurence that he'll grow up well.

Hypocracy

My mother is one of those folks who believes quite strongly that everyone should be forced to do a term of military service.
So, we're at a basketball game Monday night. She leans over and says "I don't think you should let your boys play basketball, it's too rough."
Being my own, uncharitable, sharp-tongued self, plus nauseus and generally bitchy (which is normal for me during pregnancy, my husband has the patience of a saint), I replied: "You want to put my kids in the Army for a year and you think basketball isn't safe enough?"
She said: "That's different, and the Army is safer than basketball."
Me: "At least in basketball, no one is trying to kill them."
Now, she could just as easily lable me a hypocrite as I can her, for I wanted to be in the Army. I learned a lot from that ROTC experience. One thing I learned is that women have absolutely no business being in the Army, except possibly as support inside this country. Mom thinks women should be in combat arms.
"Mom. Lie down on the ground. Now roll on your side and try to pee without getting it on the place you're lying on. What, you can't do that?" (She's looking at me in disgust and amazement. So is everyone else in the swimming pool locker room where we had this conversation, for that matter.) "That's what infantry guys do. Physical reality, Mom." Or so some infantry guys told me once. 11-Bravos, for those of you who speak that language.
I can't carry a guy of my own weight. Some of the little guys can carry a guy who weighs twice what they do or more. In the field, I'm a liability. For all I can shoot straight, hit targets, and don't waste bullets, I'm a liability: too slow, too clumsy, too weak.
Another conclusion I've come to, regarding the draft: if a country can't convince it's young people that it's good enough for them to fight for, for the benefits offered (and the military does offer pay, retirement, medical care, etc, not as good as many would like, but good enough to convince lots of young people that it's a good option), then that country doesn't deserve to be defended.
The day the USA reinstitutes a draft is one day we will get serious about leaving. My kids have dual citizenship. Their other homeland doesn't have a draft. Likely won't, the President there seems to grasp that he can pay folks enough to join his army that he doesn't need to try to draft them. Their other homeland is poor enough it doesn't have very many enemies, and most of them are poorer than it is. It is said to have the most heavily fortified borders in the world. Well, if you shared a border with Congo, wouldn't you? It's managed a peaceful (except for riots) transition of power from one president to another, which is more than its neighbors do. And that's where we'd be headed. To be sure, the political establishment is corrupt, but at least they advertise their prices. Which beats US politicians, for practical living purposes.
Now, I don't have a problem with my boys joining the military, if they want to. But it has to be their choice. They have to make the call if they think this country is worth the sacrifices. Or their other one.
Of course, there are other reasons why we would leave. And likely will leave. Are planning eventually to leave, but would rather do it on our own time frame and financial frame. Which is why I can't bring myself to care too much about what sort of train wreck this country seems determined to make of itself. My family's other country is doing its best to recover from colonialism and neo-colonialism, and since it doesn't have any diamonds, and very little oil, big money isn't too interested in interfering.