I recently had a 15-year-old ask me, "will I ever use the stuff I'm taught in high school?" Just as an FYI, here's the answer I gave.

I’m the mom of a h.s. senior and I gotta admit that I wondered about the point was as she struggled to memorize the differences between a monarchy and an oligarchy. There just can’t be many practical applications for students in that!

On the other hand, I stumbled into a great, challenging job that required a lot of math. I even went out and bought a high school math book to figure out the equations we needed.

I remember visiting Europe and sneaking a touch of the Rosetta Stone (wanted to call my old high school teacher then and there). My language classes helped me remember key phrases in other languages as I traveled. I was grateful for my English lit classes whenever people I wanted to impress dropped references to “the Scarlet Letter” or debated whether Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer had painted the fence.

Most of all, I learned social skills when dealing with authority figures and peers. I learned to sift through facts and decide which ones were the important ones that I’d need to remember. I learned to prioritize and organize… all valuable life skills.

In retrospect I only have two complaints about our education system: 1) Students feel like they’re competing against each other. Kids are jealous of the smarter students, the better athletes, etc. In real life cooperation will take you farther than competition. You’ll can go far beyond your means if you surround yourself with people more talented than you. 2) Most student elections are popularity contests. That’s the voting strategy that people take into the real world, and it’s wrong. I once worked for a CEO who demanded excellence and kicked you to the curb if you didn’t meet expectations. None of us enjoyed spending time with this boss, but we all worked hard and the company was very successful. If that’s the hallmark of a successful manager, why are we taught to vote for our favorite drinking buddies in the polls?

Potential Scam Victim, Know Thyself

Are you a potential victim of a scam? Here are some traits you'll see in the typical victim of an online scam.

1. I AM A PARENT.
The best way to keep viruses and malicious keystroke-tracking software off your computer is to keep your KIDS off the computer. Yeah, the reality is probably that you'd have better lock locking them out of the bathroom than off the computer. That's why we installed a firewall in our home, complete with regular, automatic anti-virus updates. Yes, it's a hassle and not cheap. However we enjoy the convenience of online banking from this same computer, so we NEED it to be secure. The inconvenience of setting up a good security system palls compared to the inconvenience of having our financial data stolen.

2. I READ UNSOLICITED EMAIL.
Experts believe that 99% of all email is spam. The time and manpower spent filtering this stuff is ridiculous. According to the law of supply and demand, there would be a smaller supply of junk email if everyone refused to read unsolicited messages. So keep a list of who has your email address, and be suspicious of email from anyone who's not on that list.

3. I AM HAVING FINANCIAL PROBLEMS.
If you're worried about keeping your checking account solvent and you get an urgent email that your account has been locked, it's only natural to panic. But stop and think for a moment... does your bank actually HAVE your email address? Before you take any actions suggested in the email, call first and verify this isn't a fake message.
Conversely, easy money sounds more appealing when you're short on cash. Any unsolicited email that promises easy money is almost certainly a scam. No matter how hard up you are, responding will only cause more heartache for you in the end.

4. I USE THE SAME PASSWORD FOR EVERYTHING.
As passwords get more complicated, it's more and more tempting to use the same password everywhere. Don't! Instead, set up an Excel spreadsheet to track all your passwords and password-protect that one document. (If you don't have Excel, download a copy of Password Corral or some other free, legitimate software.)
Then, when asked to enter a password, use the Copy & Paste feature on your keyboard rather than typing in all the letters manually. If your kids unintentionally downloaded a keystroke-tracking system onto your computer, you can foil it with a simply copy & paste keystroke.

5. I BELIEVE EVERYTHING I READ ON THE INTERNET.
Carpenters are taught to measure twice, cut once. With so many supposed "facts" flying through cyberspace, we have to take similar safeguards before we accept anything as the truth.
By the time I publish this article, a newer keystroke-tracking system may already be out there that defeats my favorite cut & paste strategy. So be suspicious of everything you read on the internet and all emails you receive.
Any time that I doubt a piece of information, I Google it and see if it's suggested elsewhere, how recent the articles were that mention this fact, and if the same wording is used in all the stories. It helps me establish a framework for the accuracy of the claim.

I feel sorry for the people who are too paranoid to enjoy using the internet. I feel even worse for those who don't stop to question the emails and facts they receive via the internet. There's got to be a happy medium out there somewhere... here's hoping all of us can find our balance!

Friends and Gardens

My mom passed away from cancer almost 20 years ago. She loved to garden, and had rows and rows of canned goods in our basement. She also loved talking on the phone, and her dearest phone confidente still sends me Christmas cards each year and asks about me.

I did not inherit my mom's love of the telephone. I did, however, inherit her other passions. Today my arms are raw with scratches from picking raspberries. But oh, the jelly I'll make!

I got the raspberry plants just a few years ago from a neighbor. She had a huge garden full of raspberries and once she learned that I canned, she made a deal: each season she picked the berries and I made the jelly, and we both enjoyed the results.

She eventually moved away but in the weeks before, she urged me to dig up her raspberry plants and bring them to my garden. I wasn't optimistic that anything would survive, but she kept prodding me. In the end I moved eight plants. Only half survived that first year, but they've doubled in number each year since.

The original raspberry garden was quickly pulled down by the new neighbors, as my friend had evidently feared. When I run into her now, she always asks about "her" raspberries.

In a way, my garden is the child of her beloved friend who's since passed on. She spent hours in her garden and now that it's gone, she's glad to know our raspberry tradition continues. My neighbor and my mom's best friend feel consoled in similar ways.

God bless friends and gardens, and all the people who watch over them.

Evidently, it's politically incorrect to be a boy

My son joined a travelling baseball team for this summer. So far, we've spent over $500 so our 9-year-old son can play. Millions of kids across third world countries play this game with sticks and rocks, but we've managed to turn it into a pasttime for elite rich kids. Congratulations, America.

And yet, my son is having a blast. My husband didn't get to play as a child, so he's determined to give his son the opportunity he didn't have. How can I complain?

It's sort of like Boy Scouts. My husband (a very liberal guy) is now the troop leader, and he works hard to make the troop meetings more accommodating for young boys with special needs. As a result, my son has become a better friend to a disabled boy. That's great on a local level, but I KNOW the national organization has very discriminatory policies towards homosexuals. I love what the group is doing on a local level, but I can NOT support the organization as a whole.

With my disapproval of the way our society handles sports and scouting, I'm condemning a huge portion of my son's childhood. How can a mother do that? My current plan of action is to let things stand as they are and explain my concerns someday when he's more able to understand.

His dad is a great guy, so I'm convinced my son will get there eventually as well. In the meantime, I'll suffer through the politically incorrect tribulation of boys having fun...

Just the "Facts"?

My preschool daughter came home from daycare one day singing a song about the colors in Spanish. When she sang that "Roh-Joe" means red, I told her that it was actually pronounced "Roh-Hoe". She refused to believe me. I pointed out that I minored in Spanish in college and I'd even spent time in Spain. Despite my street cred, she went on singing "Roh-Joe" at the top of her lungs.

In this day and age, having the facts simply isn't enough to make people believe you. Leonard Pitts of the Miami Herald recently posted a commentary about this same subject. As proof, he pointed to the people who refuse to believe that President Obama is a practicing Christian who was born in Hawaii.

I agree with Pitts that it's frustrating when you're not believed, but I'm firmly entrenched in the camp of the overly cautious.

I wouldn't trust any "fact" from Rush Limbaugh, so how can I criticize those who question Leonard Pitts? Trusting someone's declaration that "this is a fact" is like leaving the house unlocked. It's probably safe but if something goes wrong then people see you as a fool, not a victim.

Trust is NOT to be given lightly these days. It's another innocence stolen by those who wrap lies in authentic-looking packages.

The sad part is that this means people are free to choose what "facts" they believe. The same daughter who refused to believe me when I said "Roh-Hoe" was red? I once told her that she had left and right socks, and if you got them mixed up then you couldn't dance. For months afterward she'd get up in the morning, put on her socks and do a quick happy dance to make sure her socks were on the right feet.

Little did I know at the time, but that's the future of our society.

See Pitts' story.

Pet Names

Someone was talking about pet names, and I told them how we used to make up names for each other that were so obscene we could only say the initials in public. I'd wait for the right moment to whisper "FOFC" in a friend's ear -- the goal being to make them break out in laughter at the most inappropriate time.

They didn't get it at all. I guess you had to be there.

They asked for the best and worst pet names I'd ever heard. I voted for "Precious" as long as it was said in a creepy, long drawn-out hiss. In both categories.

They didn't get it. I had to explain that love and laughter go hand in hand, and pet names are great examples of this. "Precious" is awful but at the same time it makes me laugh hysterically. I'm sure the first person to be called "baby cakes" felt the same way.

They sort of understood that, but I doubt that anyone went home and called their baby-cakes "precious". My talents are clearly unappreciated.

A Hero in My Eyes

I was at a City Council meeting in December and the city gave commendations to citizens who had pulled a victim from a hotel hot tub and administered CPR until the medics arrived. They were unable to revive the victim, and a commendation was also given to the minister who drove the man's wife and family across the state and back to their home.

Those are definitely kind and thoughtful actions. But in my eyes, they're not the actions of a true hero.

A true hero is the person with the guts to walk up to a stranger in a hot tub and say, "Excuse me, sir? You're not looking so good. You need to get out of there NOW."

My hero is the cranky neighbor lady who's always watching the street and yelling at the kids who play there. Thanks to her, I'll never have to administer CPR to a child who's been run down in front of my house.

My husband was at a bank one time when it was robbed. He was standing in the corner of an office and he slowly stepped behind the door. He didn't want to risk moving into the doorway and startling the robber. If the robber were to walk into the room and threaten the people inside, however, my husband was in a strategic position.

The robber didn't walk into the room and afterwards my husband joked about how he had "hid" during the big robbery. Needless to say, he didn't get any special commendations for bravery.

Our greatest heroes aren't the ones who get medals and commendations, though. Instead they're frequently described with words like loudmouth, spoilsport, and busybody.

I'd like to think that their heroic traits are recognized by those around them. These are the people we turn to when we need a trusted confidente to tell us what is right and what is wrong in our lives. They're opinionated, and they speak the unvarnished truth plainly and straight up.

I tip my hat to all the unsung heroes out there with the courage to step in and avert the small, daily crises that generate the city commendations. You have my gratitude.