"Yes, I'm pregnant," she said between sobs, "I'll say it again, I'm pregnant, I'm with child, I"m whatever you want to call it but it's true, I'm going to have a baby."
He stood there stunned, the girl is was about to marry drops this bomb on him. He hadn't even touched her, the baby couldn't be his. The first thought he had was to beat her and her baby to death, but reality was sinking in and he walked away without a word, the worst he'd do to her was to shun her. Let her live with the stigma of being an unwed mother, it's of no matter to him now.
Later that night while sitting around the fire, all his brothers and friends said the same thing, "We need to kill her, she can't do this disgrace to your good name. First we find who the father is and we'll kill him too. We'll send them to hell together." But once again he was the voice of reason, and refused to be swallowed up in their hate.
"I'm going to bed," he said, "and deal with it tomorrow. Go now to your own house and forget my problem."
Sleep finally came three hours later. He drifted off thinking that he still loved her, even if he wasn't the father of her child. Then came the dream.
"Joseph." the voice said, "Joseph, take Mary as your wife as planned. She will have a son and you will name him Jesus. This is all part of God's plan that He gave through his prophets, "The virgin shall conceive a child".
The next day Joseph what he was told and brought Mary home to be his wife. He didn't touch her until after the baby was born. The baby grew up and to this day people talk of Him. A holiday has been named for His birth and His death. Some say His name with honor and love. Others yell it at football officials and bad driver's. Some love to hear His name, others sue to have it deleted from all society. Some know that He is the only way to salvation, while others choose to make it to heaven on their own. Two Thousand plus years have passed since this baby was born, and still today He is as important to this world as He was to Mary and Joe.
Truly celebrate Jesus this Christmas, after all, that's what Christmas is all about.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
A Fabricated Event
My response to a writing prompt on "something in a pocket":
It was that time of year, the time I hate the most, time to get the coat out of the closet and bundle up against the North wind. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled my wool cap over my ears. Walter, the door attendant, opened the door to my building and with a nod, I was headed down the sidewalk.
I looked at the woman walking in front of me and laughed. Her coat had a crease that ran across her back, clearly she did as I did, hang the coat up last spring and forget about it until today when it was again needed. It was the pocket that caught my attention, it bulged out as if her gloves were stuffed inside, but she was wearing gloves, scarf and beret. I started fantasizing about what was in it.
I grinned when I thought about it being a handkerchief and it bulged so because she just emptied her sinus cavities. No, that’s too gross, it has to be her sandwich for lunch, a cucumber sandwich. Yeah, that has to be it, she’s trying to lose a couple of pounds before the office Christmas party. I dunno, she looks pretty good from my angle so it must not be a sandwich. Maybe it’s a wad of cash and she’s on her way to buy something like a Christmas gift for her dear mother or maybe a dime bag or two. This girl of my fantasy couldn’t be a druggie so it must be something else. What could it be?
She suddenly stops and thrusts her hand in her pocket. We’re standing in the middle of a sidewalk filled with people rushing to wherever all these people go at this time every day. She withdraws her hand and in it is a 9mm pistol, she points it at a middle aged woman walking by her and yells something about Allah and the movement. The next thing I see is blood sprayed over Macy’s window. Everything went into slow motion as she pulled the trigger time after time. As she pointed at me the clip ran dry and a hollow click, click, click echoed through my mind. Everything starts to speed back up to normal living speed, I duck my shoulder and do my best imitation of a middle linebacker and tackled her to the ground, my shoulder driving her stomach into the sidewalk. I take the gun from her hand and stand, watching her as she laid there gasping for breath. She made a move to get up and I pointed to her and said, “Stay down, you’d better stay down.” From my right I see a blur go past me, before I could react a lady with blood splattered on her kicked the shooter in the head. Then the stomach. Then the ribs.
I look around me, no one tries to stop the kicker until the police roll up. The shooter’s face had boot tread marks all over it. I walk over and looked down at her, the one eye not swollen shut looks up at me, radiating hate even now. I look her straight in the eye and said, “Merry Christmas” and slapped her across the face with her pistol.
That dear children is how your father spent his first Christmas in New York City, and is why we now live in Oklahoma where I thought we’d be safe until one day in April at 9:01 a.m. when hell decended on Oklahoma City, but that is another story for another day.
It was that time of year, the time I hate the most, time to get the coat out of the closet and bundle up against the North wind. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled my wool cap over my ears. Walter, the door attendant, opened the door to my building and with a nod, I was headed down the sidewalk.
I looked at the woman walking in front of me and laughed. Her coat had a crease that ran across her back, clearly she did as I did, hang the coat up last spring and forget about it until today when it was again needed. It was the pocket that caught my attention, it bulged out as if her gloves were stuffed inside, but she was wearing gloves, scarf and beret. I started fantasizing about what was in it.
I grinned when I thought about it being a handkerchief and it bulged so because she just emptied her sinus cavities. No, that’s too gross, it has to be her sandwich for lunch, a cucumber sandwich. Yeah, that has to be it, she’s trying to lose a couple of pounds before the office Christmas party. I dunno, she looks pretty good from my angle so it must not be a sandwich. Maybe it’s a wad of cash and she’s on her way to buy something like a Christmas gift for her dear mother or maybe a dime bag or two. This girl of my fantasy couldn’t be a druggie so it must be something else. What could it be?
She suddenly stops and thrusts her hand in her pocket. We’re standing in the middle of a sidewalk filled with people rushing to wherever all these people go at this time every day. She withdraws her hand and in it is a 9mm pistol, she points it at a middle aged woman walking by her and yells something about Allah and the movement. The next thing I see is blood sprayed over Macy’s window. Everything went into slow motion as she pulled the trigger time after time. As she pointed at me the clip ran dry and a hollow click, click, click echoed through my mind. Everything starts to speed back up to normal living speed, I duck my shoulder and do my best imitation of a middle linebacker and tackled her to the ground, my shoulder driving her stomach into the sidewalk. I take the gun from her hand and stand, watching her as she laid there gasping for breath. She made a move to get up and I pointed to her and said, “Stay down, you’d better stay down.” From my right I see a blur go past me, before I could react a lady with blood splattered on her kicked the shooter in the head. Then the stomach. Then the ribs.
I look around me, no one tries to stop the kicker until the police roll up. The shooter’s face had boot tread marks all over it. I walk over and looked down at her, the one eye not swollen shut looks up at me, radiating hate even now. I look her straight in the eye and said, “Merry Christmas” and slapped her across the face with her pistol.
That dear children is how your father spent his first Christmas in New York City, and is why we now live in Oklahoma where I thought we’d be safe until one day in April at 9:01 a.m. when hell decended on Oklahoma City, but that is another story for another day.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Look What The Wind Blew In
A person never knows what a strong north wind will blow in. With a knock on the door, I soon found out it also was a cold north wind. There stood a man dressed in a friar's smock, cheeks red from the wind.
"Could you spare a meal and a hot cup of tea?" he asked.
"Come in and warm up, did your car break down?" I immediately wondered which side of the fence this guy was on, God's side or satan's. At least his frock was not black, like a satanist, but the traditional brown like a monk's.
He sat at the bar in the kitchen, (I thought that was funny, a monk sitting at a bar. "Did ya hear the one about a monk walking into a bar...."), and we talked of life and of faith. He was walking across the United States, carrying nothing but his Bible. He placed it on the bar, the black leather cover worn, cracked and torn. It looked as if he had sewn it back together, the binding and the covers, all stitched together, somehow holding the pages together.
"This is why I'm walking, to tell people what is in this book, the hope and the joy of Jesus Christ. If by begging for a meal I can share the Good News, then I'll beg for the rest of my days."
I was cooking bacon and eggs when I opened the refrig and saw the steak that I was going to cook that night. I pick it up and fired up the grill, fixed a mixed salad and poured the iced tea. While we sat at the table, between bites he told me of his love for his God. He finished up and headed for kitchen, "I'll clean up, it's the least I can do."
"No, you've paid me in full. Your words of wisdom and the passion you have to tell the Story, you not only paid in full, but you have inspired me also. I need to grow to have a relationship like you have, not a church service in this world would have opened my eyes to that."
With that he headed to the door, "Blessings on this house, may all who come here find Jesus waiting on them," and out the door he went. I ran to the door and was going to ask him to spend the night but as I ran outside, I couldn't find him. I ran to the road and looked up and down, the wind reminding me that I should have grabbed a jacket, but no monk. I looked all around and the only living thing I saw was the neighbor's dog, doing what dog's do, in my front yard.
Then I remembered something from the Good Book, "For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in......"
"Could you spare a meal and a hot cup of tea?" he asked.
"Come in and warm up, did your car break down?" I immediately wondered which side of the fence this guy was on, God's side or satan's. At least his frock was not black, like a satanist, but the traditional brown like a monk's.
He sat at the bar in the kitchen, (I thought that was funny, a monk sitting at a bar. "Did ya hear the one about a monk walking into a bar...."), and we talked of life and of faith. He was walking across the United States, carrying nothing but his Bible. He placed it on the bar, the black leather cover worn, cracked and torn. It looked as if he had sewn it back together, the binding and the covers, all stitched together, somehow holding the pages together.
"This is why I'm walking, to tell people what is in this book, the hope and the joy of Jesus Christ. If by begging for a meal I can share the Good News, then I'll beg for the rest of my days."
I was cooking bacon and eggs when I opened the refrig and saw the steak that I was going to cook that night. I pick it up and fired up the grill, fixed a mixed salad and poured the iced tea. While we sat at the table, between bites he told me of his love for his God. He finished up and headed for kitchen, "I'll clean up, it's the least I can do."
"No, you've paid me in full. Your words of wisdom and the passion you have to tell the Story, you not only paid in full, but you have inspired me also. I need to grow to have a relationship like you have, not a church service in this world would have opened my eyes to that."
With that he headed to the door, "Blessings on this house, may all who come here find Jesus waiting on them," and out the door he went. I ran to the door and was going to ask him to spend the night but as I ran outside, I couldn't find him. I ran to the road and looked up and down, the wind reminding me that I should have grabbed a jacket, but no monk. I looked all around and the only living thing I saw was the neighbor's dog, doing what dog's do, in my front yard.
Then I remembered something from the Good Book, "For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in......"
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Thanksgiving Poem
Thanksgiving is the time of year
When family gathers from far and near.
A turkey based all golden brown
The best dressing in all the town.
Gathered together around the dining table
When family gathers from far and near.
A turkey based all golden brown
The best dressing in all the town.
Gathered together around the dining table
We bow our heads to the one born in a stable.
Thank you Lord, you have blessed us great
You’ve once again overflowed our plate.
But as food fills our physical demands
You’ve blessed us through the scars in your hands.
Salvation is what I’m thankful for
I praise Your name which I adore.
You’ve once again overflowed our plate.
But as food fills our physical demands
You’ve blessed us through the scars in your hands.
Salvation is what I’m thankful for
I praise Your name which I adore.
Thank you Lord for saving my soul,
Thank you Lord for making me whole.
Thank you Lord for giving to me
Thank you Lord for making me whole.
Thank you Lord for giving to me
Thy great salvation so rich and free.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Guitar and the Woman
I'm probably going to get in trouble here, but that never stopped me in the past. Have you ever considered how much a guitar is like a woman? Here is some ways that they are alike....
1. They have a sensual shape. The curves, the smooth touch, the different complexions. It's pleasing to run your hand over either set of curves, to feel them close.
2. They have a sensual fragrance. When you open up a guitar case and the aroma of wood floats to your senses, it makes you want to make music. The fragrance of a woman, even when she is perspiring is a sweet aroma that makes you want to make a different music.
3. They make sensual music. In the hands of a novice, the music is satisfying but often it is rough to the senses. In the hands of an artist, the music is uplifting and reaches to the soul.
Isn't it time to make some music?
Saturday, November 8, 2008
A Royal
The silence was deafening as I sat before my typewriter. My deadline is in two days and all I have is a non-descriptive title. Why is it so hard to write about a presidential election? All the drama and glitz and glamor that the muse would need and yet nothing goes from my finger tips to the keys to the paper. The only thing that takes my attention away from the blank white piece of paper rolled into the machine is the pile of wadded up white paper where I had unsuccessfully started this five hundred word report. Maybe it's the sudden letdown after months on the campaign trail and now for a couple of months all I have to do is write this stupid report and
relax.
I long for the ding of the carriage return, the tapping of the keys as they hit the paper, the scent of white-out covering the mistakes. I look at my old gray typewriter and wonder how it will look on my desk in the oval office. It should fit in perfectly, after all it is a Royal.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Fall Back
Changing my clocks. Fall back. I hate falling back, it is dark when I go to work and now when I come home. No sun makes Walk an old grouch. Mrs. Walk don't much care for the grouchy side of me. I get grouchy, she gets grouchy and before long I done went and kicked the dog. We don't even own a dog. The neighbor called the police on me last year which wound up with the SPCA having me doing community service. I cleaned kennels for six months. I can't even look at another dog. The neighbors across the road lost their dog a couple of nights ago. The first door they knocked on was mine. They must have known that if I was within kicking distance of that little fu-fu dog it would have made it through the uprights. Three points! But no, I hadn't seen it and they found out later that someone driving by grabbed it. It was such a good dog that the people that stole it brought it back just to get it out of their house. I imagine it yipped in that high pitched yap that any self respecting dog would hate, until they couldn't handle it anymore and brought it back. They brought it back on halloween which scared the crap out of me. I was sitting here in the dark so it looked like no one was home and from out side I heard that yip yip yipping and thought the mutt was haunting me. I peeked through the blinds and saw the kids playing with the powder puff and smiled that all was right at the neighbors house on this night of fright. And I didn't even have to hand out one piece of candy. It was indeed a good night.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
More Quotes
With the election so close and views so far apart, what does Thomas Jefferson, Abe Lincoln and others say about the issues:
"A wise and frugal government, which shall leave men free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor and bread it has earned - this is the sum of good government. " Thomas Jefferson
"Dependence begets subservience and venality, suffocates the germ of virtue, and prepares fit tools for the designs of ambition. " Thomas Jefferson
"America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves. " Abraham Lincoln
"Don't interfere with anything in the Constitution. That must be maintained, for it is the only safeguard of our liberties." Abraham Lincoln
"Associate with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company. " George Washington
"Firearms are second only to the Constitution in importance; they are the peoples' liberty's teeth. " George Washington
"If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter. " George Washington (Ever hear of the "Fairness Doctrine")
"The constitution vests the power of declaring war in Congress; therefore no offensive expedition of importance can be undertaken until after they shall have deliberated upon the subject and authorized such a measure. " George Washington
And we would all be better off if we'd follow this advice:
"I don't know who my grandfather was; I am much more concerned to know what his grandson will be." Abraham Lincoln
"A wise and frugal government, which shall leave men free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor and bread it has earned - this is the sum of good government. " Thomas Jefferson
"Dependence begets subservience and venality, suffocates the germ of virtue, and prepares fit tools for the designs of ambition. " Thomas Jefferson
"America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves. " Abraham Lincoln
"Don't interfere with anything in the Constitution. That must be maintained, for it is the only safeguard of our liberties." Abraham Lincoln
"Associate with men of good quality if you esteem your own reputation; for it is better to be alone than in bad company. " George Washington
"Firearms are second only to the Constitution in importance; they are the peoples' liberty's teeth. " George Washington
"If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter. " George Washington (Ever hear of the "Fairness Doctrine")
"The constitution vests the power of declaring war in Congress; therefore no offensive expedition of importance can be undertaken until after they shall have deliberated upon the subject and authorized such a measure. " George Washington
And we would all be better off if we'd follow this advice:
"I don't know who my grandfather was; I am much more concerned to know what his grandson will be." Abraham Lincoln
Friday, October 24, 2008
400
I just noticed I've had 400 views from the good ole USA. Thanks for stopping by, sit a spell, y'all come back now, ya hear!
Couldn't Be Better
I sit here with a head full of whatever it is a cold produces. Add to that two nights of Nyquil and other drugs, my old thinking takes the crooked road instead of the straight thinker that I usually am. (I'll wait here for you to stop laughing).
Ok, pause over. While laying in bed moaning, as my sinus's were running a race with my nose to see who could produce more stuff than the other, I was really in one "poor me" state. Then I started thinking about some of my friends and I have nothing to complain about.
Look at Linda, she takes care of her mother, causing her to be separated from her husband through Hurricane Ike, and also has her own physical complications that recently put her in the hospital for a stay. Last I heard she was still in there recovering.
Then there's Lynn. Lynn has fibermyalgia. If you know anything about fibermyalgia it is that it causes constant pain. Yet Lynn is one of the most upbeat people I have the privilege to know.
Last one for today is Gully. I've mentioned Gully or Gullible here before. Gully cared for a husband who had Alzheimers. A terrible disease which is harder on the caregiver than it is the patient.
When I get down because I may have a cold, or poison ivy or some other thorn in my side, I think of these ladies and others I know. I count the blessings that these things will pass and I'll be the barrel of laughs that I usually am. My true admiration goes to folks like these ladies. May you be blessed.
Ok, enough for a cold ladened rant.
Ok, pause over. While laying in bed moaning, as my sinus's were running a race with my nose to see who could produce more stuff than the other, I was really in one "poor me" state. Then I started thinking about some of my friends and I have nothing to complain about.
Look at Linda, she takes care of her mother, causing her to be separated from her husband through Hurricane Ike, and also has her own physical complications that recently put her in the hospital for a stay. Last I heard she was still in there recovering.
Then there's Lynn. Lynn has fibermyalgia. If you know anything about fibermyalgia it is that it causes constant pain. Yet Lynn is one of the most upbeat people I have the privilege to know.
Last one for today is Gully. I've mentioned Gully or Gullible here before. Gully cared for a husband who had Alzheimers. A terrible disease which is harder on the caregiver than it is the patient.
When I get down because I may have a cold, or poison ivy or some other thorn in my side, I think of these ladies and others I know. I count the blessings that these things will pass and I'll be the barrel of laughs that I usually am. My true admiration goes to folks like these ladies. May you be blessed.
Ok, enough for a cold ladened rant.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
The American Dream
I had a rant all typed out here but decided that you have heard it all before, so I'll start over.
The American dream, I have one. Millions of immigrates have one and millions have realized it. Some don't get what the American dream is, but instead want to pull those who are the driving force behind this country, the small businesses, the working man, etc, down to the level of those who don't care to contribute or have no desire to better themselves. Abraham Lincoln said this: "Let not him who is houseless pull down the house of another; but let him labor diligently and build one for himself, thus by example assuring that his own shall be safe from violence when built.
That my friend is the American dream. Success. Don't pull those that are working to succeed down to the other level, but build the other level up by their own hard work. Let them realize how hard it is to get to a certain level of success. Then they will appreciate what they have accomplished.
Modified rant over and out.....
The American dream, I have one. Millions of immigrates have one and millions have realized it. Some don't get what the American dream is, but instead want to pull those who are the driving force behind this country, the small businesses, the working man, etc, down to the level of those who don't care to contribute or have no desire to better themselves. Abraham Lincoln said this: "Let not him who is houseless pull down the house of another; but let him labor diligently and build one for himself, thus by example assuring that his own shall be safe from violence when built.
That my friend is the American dream. Success. Don't pull those that are working to succeed down to the other level, but build the other level up by their own hard work. Let them realize how hard it is to get to a certain level of success. Then they will appreciate what they have accomplished.
Modified rant over and out.....
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Listen to Thomas Jefferson
An interesting quote by Thomas Jefferson over two hundred years ago. Those who say that we need to "change" what the founding fathers incorporated into this great nation just need to look at what they said. They were brilliant and God inspired men. And now let Thomas Jefferson speak for himself:
"I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around [the banks] will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered. The issuing power should be taken from the banks and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs."
Thomas Jefferson, Letter to the Secretary of the Treasury Albert Gallatin (1802)
3rd president of US (1743 - 1826)
Isn't that amazing?
"I believe that banking institutions are more dangerous to our liberties than standing armies. If the American people ever allow private banks to control the issue of their currency, first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that will grow up around [the banks] will deprive the people of all property until their children wake-up homeless on the continent their fathers conquered. The issuing power should be taken from the banks and restored to the people, to whom it properly belongs."
Thomas Jefferson, Letter to the Secretary of the Treasury Albert Gallatin (1802)
3rd president of US (1743 - 1826)
Isn't that amazing?
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Ode To Pie Ala Mode
How I love thee, my pie ala mode
Your crust is golden, as if baked by the sun
I'll eat so much of you I just might explode
Your filling is sweet, with cinnamon and apples
Still warm from the oven, made by mother's hands
I should give thanks, where the chapel?
Ice cream on top, Golden Vanilla Ice
Melting into rivers that cascades into the plate.
The first bite is delectable, full of everything nice
What a wonderful fate to put on this weight.
Your crust is golden, as if baked by the sun
I'll eat so much of you I just might explode
Your filling is sweet, with cinnamon and apples
Still warm from the oven, made by mother's hands
I should give thanks, where the chapel?
Ice cream on top, Golden Vanilla Ice
Melting into rivers that cascades into the plate.
The first bite is delectable, full of everything nice
What a wonderful fate to put on this weight.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The Redneck and the Yankee
Oh, the pleasure of working in a cubical farm. I can see how Dilbert can write so many comics about the office life, he just has to sit in a cube for a few minutes and someone will start an interesting conversation that is good fodder for thought. Once again, a story presented itself just feet from where I sit at my computer. Starring the Redneck that sits to the other side of my cube, and with a Yankee that is transplanted here from Boston. Yankee wants to experience the Oklahoma life, hunting, fishing, water skiing, and talks Redneck into taking him out into the wild to teach him the finer points of the activities. First let me relate what happened during deer season.
Hunting Lesson.
"Da first thing ya gotta learn is to shoot a gun, have ya ever shot a gun that wasn't a driveby?" Redneck asked the Yankee.
Yankee replied, "I never shoat a gen."
"Then we'll go out to da lake and I'll teech ya. Dars a target rainge thar." Then Redneck proceeded to make plans to teach Yankee how to shoot. Something Redneck soon regretted.
Later at the lake, Redneck sat targets up at the thirty yard mark to make it easier on the Yankee. If he proved to be a good shot, the target would be moved back until the target would be at the one hundred yard mark. Redneck parked his pickup parallel with the target to give Yankee something to rest the rifle on.
"Put this here beanbag on da bed rail and rest da gun on it. Squeeze da trigger slow and put da cross hairs on the bull's eye. Thar be a kick so hold da gun stock tight to yer shoulder", instructed Redneck.
Yankee centered his shot and squeezed the trigger. Boom! Bull's eye first shot. Redneck raised his hand and Yankee reached up to high five him, except he forgot to take his finger off the trigger of this semi-automatic rifle. Boom! SSSSSSSSSSS! The sudden shot scared Redneck and Yankee and they almost ran each other over trying to take cover, they just knew someone was shooting at them. After a few minutes Redneck peeked over the pickup bed and noticed the bullet hole in his wheel well.
"I'm gonna kick yer Yankee arse. You sorry sunsabeech, you shot my truck!" It seems that as Yankee gave the high five he lowered the barrel of the gun and then accidentally squeezed the trigger, firing a round into the wheel well and tire.
I'd love to have read that insurance report.
Catfish fishin'
I was lucky enough to hear this conversation this morning. After everyone in hearing distance quit laughing and I wiped the tears out of my eyes, I wrote some notes down.
"I ougher kill youse Redneck butt. That Katfish is the whurst fish I'd ehver ate." Yankee yelled at poor Redneck.
"Hold on there pardner, howsya cukt it.
"I fired up the grill and kooked it just like I kooked trout. It was the toughest, most foul tasting thing I every ate!" Yankee was rather bent out of shape at wasting his meal on this fish.
"You cuked it like a trout, You cuked it like a trout?" Redneck repeated it between laughing seizures on the floor. "You didn't clean it before you cooked it?"
"What do you mean clean it? I kookhd it like a trout?"
By this time I had tears in my eyes, not so much by the conversation but by the full force belly laugh that Redneck was bellowing, and the room was filled with people falling out of their chairs laughing, for no other reason but hearing Redneck's rolling laughter. Redneck finally got enough breath between laughs to tell Yankee that you skin a catfish, fillet the meat off the bones, roll it in cornmeal and cook it, not like a trout which you gut and cook, head and all.
Yankee must be still having culture shock and as he stormed off he was muttering something about "Nuthing but @#&@#@# (censored for the non-sailors out there) Rednecks around here. I moved across the country to work with @#&#@# Rednecks"
Hunting Lesson.
"Da first thing ya gotta learn is to shoot a gun, have ya ever shot a gun that wasn't a driveby?" Redneck asked the Yankee.
Yankee replied, "I never shoat a gen."
"Then we'll go out to da lake and I'll teech ya. Dars a target rainge thar." Then Redneck proceeded to make plans to teach Yankee how to shoot. Something Redneck soon regretted.
Later at the lake, Redneck sat targets up at the thirty yard mark to make it easier on the Yankee. If he proved to be a good shot, the target would be moved back until the target would be at the one hundred yard mark. Redneck parked his pickup parallel with the target to give Yankee something to rest the rifle on.
"Put this here beanbag on da bed rail and rest da gun on it. Squeeze da trigger slow and put da cross hairs on the bull's eye. Thar be a kick so hold da gun stock tight to yer shoulder", instructed Redneck.
Yankee centered his shot and squeezed the trigger. Boom! Bull's eye first shot. Redneck raised his hand and Yankee reached up to high five him, except he forgot to take his finger off the trigger of this semi-automatic rifle. Boom! SSSSSSSSSSS! The sudden shot scared Redneck and Yankee and they almost ran each other over trying to take cover, they just knew someone was shooting at them. After a few minutes Redneck peeked over the pickup bed and noticed the bullet hole in his wheel well.
"I'm gonna kick yer Yankee arse. You sorry sunsabeech, you shot my truck!" It seems that as Yankee gave the high five he lowered the barrel of the gun and then accidentally squeezed the trigger, firing a round into the wheel well and tire.
I'd love to have read that insurance report.
Catfish fishin'
I was lucky enough to hear this conversation this morning. After everyone in hearing distance quit laughing and I wiped the tears out of my eyes, I wrote some notes down.
"I ougher kill youse Redneck butt. That Katfish is the whurst fish I'd ehver ate." Yankee yelled at poor Redneck.
"Hold on there pardner, howsya cukt it.
"I fired up the grill and kooked it just like I kooked trout. It was the toughest, most foul tasting thing I every ate!" Yankee was rather bent out of shape at wasting his meal on this fish.
"You cuked it like a trout, You cuked it like a trout?" Redneck repeated it between laughing seizures on the floor. "You didn't clean it before you cooked it?"
"What do you mean clean it? I kookhd it like a trout?"
By this time I had tears in my eyes, not so much by the conversation but by the full force belly laugh that Redneck was bellowing, and the room was filled with people falling out of their chairs laughing, for no other reason but hearing Redneck's rolling laughter. Redneck finally got enough breath between laughs to tell Yankee that you skin a catfish, fillet the meat off the bones, roll it in cornmeal and cook it, not like a trout which you gut and cook, head and all.
Yankee must be still having culture shock and as he stormed off he was muttering something about "Nuthing but @#&@#@# (censored for the non-sailors out there) Rednecks around here. I moved across the country to work with @#&#@# Rednecks"
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
We Can't Forget
I've always loved this view. From here you can see forever. At night you can see the glow of Broadway's lights and the moon shining off of the Upper Bay and Ellis Island. Central Park, the natural refuge in this concrete jungle looks like a stamp on the horizon.
How I love this city and the excitement that comes from every corner of it. It has become a place of refuge for every race and color, a beacon with her hand proudly thrust in the air. My family loves to picnic at Liberty Park, the thought of eating in the shadow of the symbol of freedom still gives me chills. Freedom. A word that is loved by some and despised by others.
I guess this is the day of the despised. They have acted on their hate and now I look at this view for the last time through smoke billowing up through my window. I look at the ashes of the other tower as it lays in a leap below me. With the quiver of my tower I know that soon we will soon join it. My floor grows hot. The carpet has started to smolder, in just a matter of time it will be blazing.
As I look upon the Upper Bay once more, I think of my wife and two kids. I think of what pain they will be put through in the next few months and years. Pain they wouldn’t feel if it weren’t for someone’s hate. But I can’t think of that now. No, in my last moments I can only think of the love they gave me. I will go in peace, peace that I know I’ll see my family again because of our faith. I go in peace knowing that the hate of others will not take the peace that my faith gives, the peace that comes from Jesus.
My feet are blistering and the pain is getting severe. I look out this open window and know that my time has come. As I step through my favorite window, I'll take that final step, and fly with the eagles.
How I love this city and the excitement that comes from every corner of it. It has become a place of refuge for every race and color, a beacon with her hand proudly thrust in the air. My family loves to picnic at Liberty Park, the thought of eating in the shadow of the symbol of freedom still gives me chills. Freedom. A word that is loved by some and despised by others.
I guess this is the day of the despised. They have acted on their hate and now I look at this view for the last time through smoke billowing up through my window. I look at the ashes of the other tower as it lays in a leap below me. With the quiver of my tower I know that soon we will soon join it. My floor grows hot. The carpet has started to smolder, in just a matter of time it will be blazing.
As I look upon the Upper Bay once more, I think of my wife and two kids. I think of what pain they will be put through in the next few months and years. Pain they wouldn’t feel if it weren’t for someone’s hate. But I can’t think of that now. No, in my last moments I can only think of the love they gave me. I will go in peace, peace that I know I’ll see my family again because of our faith. I go in peace knowing that the hate of others will not take the peace that my faith gives, the peace that comes from Jesus.
My feet are blistering and the pain is getting severe. I look out this open window and know that my time has come. As I step through my favorite window, I'll take that final step, and fly with the eagles.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Alaska, The Last Frontier
(I've been corrected, I broke the cardinal rule and didn't check my facts, Alaska is the largest state in the Union by area, but ranked 48th by population, that's 1.1 person per square mile. Correction has been made. Thanks for straightening me out Gully. Apologies to all offended Alaskans.)
What is there about Alaska? A couple of ladies have gotten me thinking about Alaska and the people it produces. I know you've already thought of one I'm talking about when you read Alaska. After all she is Governor of our largest state. A state bigger than a majority of countries in the rest of the world. Of course I'm speaking of Sarah Palin. I'm not going to get into politics as I'm not into screaming and ranting about what politics has turned into. No, I'm going to talk about her personal life, to a point and not over.
Mrs. Palin has a diverse background. She was a beauty queen, she ran several successful small businesses, she was a sports caster (like Reagan), she was a mayor and now governor. Her favorite meal is Moose Stew, she hunts (member of the NRA), a self proclaimed outdoor person. She's articulate and she stands for what she believes in, without giving into party or political correctness.
The second lady some of you know, some don't but should. She is a writer, one of my favorites, whose prose varies as much as the seasons. She has been a reporter, Alzheimer's advocate, world traveler, naturalist (I'm not going to use the birthday suit joke), dog sled musher (this Outsider doesn't know the fancy word), and most importantly, friend to multitudes. Some of you know I'm talking about Jeanne or Gully or Gullible, or whatever tag she's going by that day. Her blog is in the list at the left called "Gullible's Travels". Great stories and pictures. She is the one who taught me that an "Outsider" was someone that lived outside of Alaska.
It seems Alaska breeds individualism. Whether you're born Alaskan or privileged to have come from the Outside and stayed, Alaska brings out the best in each person. I know there are the exceptions to that rule, but from what this Outsider has observed, the exceptions are few.
Just think about it, how many people from Alaska can you name that have moved into your town? I have never been introduced from anyone that has left Alaska by choice. Why is that? Could it be lack of population compared to say California, which is where every other new person in town has come from. Could it be that parse population compared to square miles is what people up there like? What about that Alaska is the modern day West, the last frontier to be explored.
I think that's where the individualism of Alaskan's come from. They fend for themselves, because they are the babe of the nation and often overlooked as that state way up there with nothing but oil to contribute.
Well, in the last couple of years of knowing Gully, and now the little I've learned about Mrs. Palin, I must say, Thank you Alaska for raising people that remind us that sometimes its not cool to tag along with the crowd, that reminds us to stand up for what we believe despite what people will say. I can say from this knot head's observation, these two ladies have rose above the rest by doing just that.
What is there about Alaska? A couple of ladies have gotten me thinking about Alaska and the people it produces. I know you've already thought of one I'm talking about when you read Alaska. After all she is Governor of our largest state. A state bigger than a majority of countries in the rest of the world. Of course I'm speaking of Sarah Palin. I'm not going to get into politics as I'm not into screaming and ranting about what politics has turned into. No, I'm going to talk about her personal life, to a point and not over.
Mrs. Palin has a diverse background. She was a beauty queen, she ran several successful small businesses, she was a sports caster (like Reagan), she was a mayor and now governor. Her favorite meal is Moose Stew, she hunts (member of the NRA), a self proclaimed outdoor person. She's articulate and she stands for what she believes in, without giving into party or political correctness.
The second lady some of you know, some don't but should. She is a writer, one of my favorites, whose prose varies as much as the seasons. She has been a reporter, Alzheimer's advocate, world traveler, naturalist (I'm not going to use the birthday suit joke), dog sled musher (this Outsider doesn't know the fancy word), and most importantly, friend to multitudes. Some of you know I'm talking about Jeanne or Gully or Gullible, or whatever tag she's going by that day. Her blog is in the list at the left called "Gullible's Travels". Great stories and pictures. She is the one who taught me that an "Outsider" was someone that lived outside of Alaska.
It seems Alaska breeds individualism. Whether you're born Alaskan or privileged to have come from the Outside and stayed, Alaska brings out the best in each person. I know there are the exceptions to that rule, but from what this Outsider has observed, the exceptions are few.
Just think about it, how many people from Alaska can you name that have moved into your town? I have never been introduced from anyone that has left Alaska by choice. Why is that? Could it be lack of population compared to say California, which is where every other new person in town has come from. Could it be that parse population compared to square miles is what people up there like? What about that Alaska is the modern day West, the last frontier to be explored.
I think that's where the individualism of Alaskan's come from. They fend for themselves, because they are the babe of the nation and often overlooked as that state way up there with nothing but oil to contribute.
Well, in the last couple of years of knowing Gully, and now the little I've learned about Mrs. Palin, I must say, Thank you Alaska for raising people that remind us that sometimes its not cool to tag along with the crowd, that reminds us to stand up for what we believe despite what people will say. I can say from this knot head's observation, these two ladies have rose above the rest by doing just that.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Festus, My Ole Hound Dog
(Apologies to those who had the unfortunate opportunity to read this before.)
Festus was my favorite ole hound dog. I could tell ole Festus' bray over all them other mutt's whenever they got after one of them coons. He was an old blue tick hound that my granpap left me when he went and died on us last year. Granpap knew I loved to hunt with ole Festus so he left me his prize possession.
Shoot, I remember the time a year or two thereabouts when Granpap and I took ole Festus up to Riley's Corner. There was a subborned ole coon that kept gittin in the corn crib at the Perry General Store and they couldn't ketch it. When us got Festus there he got the scent right off and away we went. We raced up the hill and down into the holler and around the bend to the old Simmons place. I thought old Festus had lost his ever lovin mind to take us there, but sure enough, that ole coon was roosting in old man Simmons barn. We shot the critter and old Mr. Perry was so happy he gave Granpap a gallon of shine and me a bag of rock candy. I shared with ole Festus as he done mosta work.
Well, a lot of water has gone under that bridge and Granpap is gone and Festus is gone too now. You see ole Festus went to chasing cars about half a year ago. One day he chased one of them fast sport cars and when he quick a runnin' a truck datgum run-ed over him. Ole Festus, being the tough critter that he is, lived through that but lost all four of his legs. He was left with just the nubbins. It broke my heart to see ole Festus just layin there. Thats when it all started to come to an end.
Ole Festus was layin on the porch by the stairs when a cottin tail wabbit wandered inta the yard. Ole Festus start a brayin and just raisin cane over that lil ole wabbit. I run-ed out to see what was the matter when I saw that wabbit look up at Festus with a grin. I swear I herd him laugh. That's when I grabbed Festus and put him in the wheel barrow. He danged near ran me to death chasin that stinkin wabbit. We chased him for on a half hour before I gived out. I decided I had to do somethin fer pur ole Festus.
The next day I wandered out into the woods and found four tree limbs that was just right. I done some wittlin on them and made ole Festus some legs. I tied them to his nubbs and off he went, happier than Aunt Sally with a chocolate cake. Old Festus walked around on them until the other day when the field ketched fire and poor ole Festus burnt to the ground.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
I Feel Safer Already
This news just in: 8/26/08 @ 1:40 PM...
All of the Wal-Marts across Alabama sold out of ammunition as of yesterday. A reliable source said that one of the purchasers commented that while Russia may have invaded Georgia, they sure as h_ll ain't doin' it to Alabama.
All of the Wal-Marts across Alabama sold out of ammunition as of yesterday. A reliable source said that one of the purchasers commented that while Russia may have invaded Georgia, they sure as h_ll ain't doin' it to Alabama.
Varmit Hunting
I was walking the other night out to my shop building. After a hot day the sidewalk was still warm but the air had cooled and ther evening seemed to turn out pleasant. I noticed that a couple of pears had fallen and were half eaten by some varmit that usually wanders the property.
I open the shop, the air stale from the building being shut up for days. The first thing that greets me is my old Dodge convertible. I look at it and wonder if I'll ever get it running again. The way things are as of now, it doesn't seem likely. But my task isn't the car, it is looking for some indestript tool that I know I won't find. What I find is that something has thrown everything all over the place. The tools on the workbench has been scattered over the floor. Plans I had drawn for a shelving unit had been ripped up and chewed on.
I froze. There's a varmit in the building.
I open the shop, the air stale from the building being shut up for days. The first thing that greets me is my old Dodge convertible. I look at it and wonder if I'll ever get it running again. The way things are as of now, it doesn't seem likely. But my task isn't the car, it is looking for some indestript tool that I know I won't find. What I find is that something has thrown everything all over the place. The tools on the workbench has been scattered over the floor. Plans I had drawn for a shelving unit had been ripped up and chewed on.
I froze. There's a varmit in the building.
I slowly turn and grab a garden hoe that thankfully wasn't put in its correct place, in the garden shed. Now that I can defend myself, I go into the hunting mode. I slowly walk over to the wood bin. I shake it making all kinds of noise, but no varmit. I tiptoe over to the Christmas boxes stacked full of stuff varmits love to chew on. I search one after the other but no varmit.
Then panick hit me. The car. The varmit has took up residence in the car. I could see the seats shedded, the carpet soiled with, well, you know what, I could see that it would be a nightmare. I walked up to the car and peeked inside, everything looked as I left it. The dust on the seat and dashboard showed me that nothing had disturbed it.
Then it dawned on me. The eves of the roof. The varmit is roosting in the eves of the roof. Being a shop and not being finished on the inside as a house would, the eves of the roof are closed to the outside but open on the inside. I start checking those eves, one after the other until I came to the last one, of course it had to be the last one, and there was a mound of fur in the corner. I could see this gray fur and one paw which had long claws and I knew that a possum had invaded my shop.
I found an old broom stick that I had stuck a nail into for picking up trash. I took it and jabbed it but it didn't move. Was it dead of just playing possum? I wasn't going to grab it to find out. I jabbed it harder and harder, hard enough I thought it would draw blood, but it didn't move. I grabbed the hoe and hooked the leg. It came to life then and turned to face the hoe. A long hiss came out of it, it sounded like something from a horror movie. Great, what do I do now? I'm not a gun owner, not yet anyway, so I couldn't shoot it and drag it out and bury it. But I do have a air nozzle on my air compressor. So I fire up the compressor and see if that would work. I was amazed at the reaction the varmit had to a stream of compressed air.
It went bonkers. You'd thought it was from Yonkers. I came out of the eve and down the wall. One thing I failed to mention is that I had opened the overhead door that is on the wall beside where he was resting. As he descended down the wall my hopes were that he would just run outside the door. But no, he turns and comes directly for me. Another thing I forgot to mention is that I'm standing on a stool designed to be sat on to work on a vehicle. It folds up for storage and has wheels on the bottom. I think you get the picture already. I make the unfortunate move of flinching when he turned toward me. The wheels start rolling and my butt heads for the floor.
They say that in dramatic periods of your life that time slows down. I watched in slow motion as the floor came closer and closer. At least I'd be landing on the most padded part of my body. I watched the stool shoot out from under my feet and slam into the possum. The air nozzle never leaving my hand, and never stopped shooting the air towards the possum. I guess it was more than he wanted to put up with, the last time I saw him he was headed towards the neighbors house, laughing all the way.
I decided then and there, too much city in this old boy. Hunting varmits isn't a hobby I'll ever embrace. I'm sure the varmits feel much safer tonight.
Then panick hit me. The car. The varmit has took up residence in the car. I could see the seats shedded, the carpet soiled with, well, you know what, I could see that it would be a nightmare. I walked up to the car and peeked inside, everything looked as I left it. The dust on the seat and dashboard showed me that nothing had disturbed it.
Then it dawned on me. The eves of the roof. The varmit is roosting in the eves of the roof. Being a shop and not being finished on the inside as a house would, the eves of the roof are closed to the outside but open on the inside. I start checking those eves, one after the other until I came to the last one, of course it had to be the last one, and there was a mound of fur in the corner. I could see this gray fur and one paw which had long claws and I knew that a possum had invaded my shop.
I found an old broom stick that I had stuck a nail into for picking up trash. I took it and jabbed it but it didn't move. Was it dead of just playing possum? I wasn't going to grab it to find out. I jabbed it harder and harder, hard enough I thought it would draw blood, but it didn't move. I grabbed the hoe and hooked the leg. It came to life then and turned to face the hoe. A long hiss came out of it, it sounded like something from a horror movie. Great, what do I do now? I'm not a gun owner, not yet anyway, so I couldn't shoot it and drag it out and bury it. But I do have a air nozzle on my air compressor. So I fire up the compressor and see if that would work. I was amazed at the reaction the varmit had to a stream of compressed air.
It went bonkers. You'd thought it was from Yonkers. I came out of the eve and down the wall. One thing I failed to mention is that I had opened the overhead door that is on the wall beside where he was resting. As he descended down the wall my hopes were that he would just run outside the door. But no, he turns and comes directly for me. Another thing I forgot to mention is that I'm standing on a stool designed to be sat on to work on a vehicle. It folds up for storage and has wheels on the bottom. I think you get the picture already. I make the unfortunate move of flinching when he turned toward me. The wheels start rolling and my butt heads for the floor.
They say that in dramatic periods of your life that time slows down. I watched in slow motion as the floor came closer and closer. At least I'd be landing on the most padded part of my body. I watched the stool shoot out from under my feet and slam into the possum. The air nozzle never leaving my hand, and never stopped shooting the air towards the possum. I guess it was more than he wanted to put up with, the last time I saw him he was headed towards the neighbors house, laughing all the way.
I decided then and there, too much city in this old boy. Hunting varmits isn't a hobby I'll ever embrace. I'm sure the varmits feel much safer tonight.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Don't Fool With A Fool
The wind of a cool autumn night was blowing the leaves around our feet as we wandered down the street. We worked closely together and became more than just partners on the job, but also partners in life. We held each other close, using the cool temperature as and excuse as we walked on, lost in each other’s arms. Our attention was so focused on each other that we became unaware of our surroundings and didn't noticed we had wandered off the main street and into the darkness of the side streets. Suddenly a man appeared before us from out of nowhere, holding a knife and demanding money, “Or else” he screamed. I put my arm in front of her as I pushed her behind me, standing between her and danger. I held out my money clip to him, I could see he was high on something that wasn't legal.
“Where’s your wallet?!”
“I don’t carry one”
“You gotta have credit cards, what about your bitch?”
“You can have my money but you don’t disrespect my lady.”
He waved his knife in front of my face; “Just what are you going to do about it?” He sounded as though he was in grade school.
I told him that he didn’t want to pursue this. He answered by putting the point of the knife to my chin, “I said, what are you going to do about it?”
I looked him in the eye and said; “I guess I can do this.” I pulled my gun and shot him.
He obviously didn't read the Robber's Handbook.
Rule number one: “Don’t pick on an off duty cop.”
Rule number two is “Don’t take a knife to a gun fight.”
“Where’s your wallet?!”
“I don’t carry one”
“You gotta have credit cards, what about your bitch?”
“You can have my money but you don’t disrespect my lady.”
He waved his knife in front of my face; “Just what are you going to do about it?” He sounded as though he was in grade school.
I told him that he didn’t want to pursue this. He answered by putting the point of the knife to my chin, “I said, what are you going to do about it?”
I looked him in the eye and said; “I guess I can do this.” I pulled my gun and shot him.
He obviously didn't read the Robber's Handbook.
Rule number one: “Don’t pick on an off duty cop.”
Rule number two is “Don’t take a knife to a gun fight.”
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Total Terror
We just sat down to supper. Outside the thunder rolled and the lightening flashed. It is the perfect night to watch the original Halloween movie once again. I laugh at how young Jamie Lee Curtis looks until I realized how young I looked all those many years ago. Just as the bad guy was reaching for the closet door, our lights went out. I jumped into my wife's lap and screamed like a little girl. That's when it happened….
The first ring.
They immediately started, the cold sweats, the trembling fingers, and my heart trying to burst through my chest. I just know it's that ghastly and horrifying man calling to torment me. It has to be him, who else would call at this time of night? My knees are weak as I stumble towards the telephone. Maybe if I just don't answer it, yeah, if I don't answer it I won't hear his cruel voice. No, that won't work, he will just continue to call. How long can he terrorize me? How long until I can once again sit in my home in peace?
Second ring.
It seems louder than the first. Is he playing with me? Why is there someone outside playing the drums? Oh, that's my heart beating inside my ears. What if I let the answering machine do it's job and answer for me? It might work to give me a few moments of peace, but he will call back, he most certainly will call back.
Third ring.
OK, answer it and get it over with. He can't terrorize me all nightcan he? What can he really do? He's just a voice on the phone. OK, I'm gonna answer. Steady now, it's just a phone. A voice can't hurtyou, only make you hurt yourself as you run for safety.I lift the receiver to my ear.
"Hel-Hello?"
"Yes, I'm Teddy Telemarketer with Acme Widgets and do I have a deal for you!"
AHWAAAAAAAAAABAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It's even more dreadful than I feared! When will my no-call status kick in? Oh the inhumanity of it all! My dinner's getting cold! Don't let them smell fear! HomelandSecurity, please put a stop to these terrorist!
I quickly hang up and stand there shaking in the darkened room. I stare at the phone wondering when it will ring again, feeling the telemarketer tentacles reaching out to grab my throat. I try to finish my dinner but nothing taste good cold. Then I hear it…
The first ring…….
The first ring.
They immediately started, the cold sweats, the trembling fingers, and my heart trying to burst through my chest. I just know it's that ghastly and horrifying man calling to torment me. It has to be him, who else would call at this time of night? My knees are weak as I stumble towards the telephone. Maybe if I just don't answer it, yeah, if I don't answer it I won't hear his cruel voice. No, that won't work, he will just continue to call. How long can he terrorize me? How long until I can once again sit in my home in peace?
Second ring.
It seems louder than the first. Is he playing with me? Why is there someone outside playing the drums? Oh, that's my heart beating inside my ears. What if I let the answering machine do it's job and answer for me? It might work to give me a few moments of peace, but he will call back, he most certainly will call back.
Third ring.
OK, answer it and get it over with. He can't terrorize me all nightcan he? What can he really do? He's just a voice on the phone. OK, I'm gonna answer. Steady now, it's just a phone. A voice can't hurtyou, only make you hurt yourself as you run for safety.I lift the receiver to my ear.
"Hel-Hello?"
"Yes, I'm Teddy Telemarketer with Acme Widgets and do I have a deal for you!"
AHWAAAAAAAAAABAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! It's even more dreadful than I feared! When will my no-call status kick in? Oh the inhumanity of it all! My dinner's getting cold! Don't let them smell fear! HomelandSecurity, please put a stop to these terrorist!
I quickly hang up and stand there shaking in the darkened room. I stare at the phone wondering when it will ring again, feeling the telemarketer tentacles reaching out to grab my throat. I try to finish my dinner but nothing taste good cold. Then I hear it…
The first ring…….
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
To Skin A Cat
Third times the charm don't they say? This is my third book review, I know I promised this wouldn't become a book blog, but whose to say where this blog leads. Besides, I like to read, thus new material for this beautiful blog.
To Skin A Cat is the third of a detective series by John Robinson. John takes on a topic that is not approached normally in society. It's one of those topics that is whispered about at the Garden Club by blue haired grandmothers and hits the majority of every computer in America, if not through actual navigation to the sites then through unwanted email. That unapproachable topic is pornography.
Mr. Robinson doesn't hit you over the head with righteousness and the Christian view of porno, but instead quietly shows you the effect it has on generations and just how easy it is to fall prey to its deception. His hero, Joe Box, goes through this battle and wins, in a big way.
Mr. Robinson's writing skill turns Joe Box into a great main character. He not only becomes your hero, but also your friend. When you turn the final page of the book, that empty feel comes over you like when you told your best bud goodbye. Mr. Robinson builds a great cast of characters, with some whom you think you know, but you don't until the end.
What I like about this book is that Joe Box is a Christian, and isn't made out to be some stupid hillbilly that can't put two words together or someone who has a false faith and makes Christianity look bad. Joe stands by his faith and his faith doesn't let him down.
Thank you Mr. Robinson, you have made my list of favorite books, right at the top along side Mr. Snyder.
To Skin A Cat is the third of a detective series by John Robinson. John takes on a topic that is not approached normally in society. It's one of those topics that is whispered about at the Garden Club by blue haired grandmothers and hits the majority of every computer in America, if not through actual navigation to the sites then through unwanted email. That unapproachable topic is pornography.
Mr. Robinson doesn't hit you over the head with righteousness and the Christian view of porno, but instead quietly shows you the effect it has on generations and just how easy it is to fall prey to its deception. His hero, Joe Box, goes through this battle and wins, in a big way.
Mr. Robinson's writing skill turns Joe Box into a great main character. He not only becomes your hero, but also your friend. When you turn the final page of the book, that empty feel comes over you like when you told your best bud goodbye. Mr. Robinson builds a great cast of characters, with some whom you think you know, but you don't until the end.
What I like about this book is that Joe Box is a Christian, and isn't made out to be some stupid hillbilly that can't put two words together or someone who has a false faith and makes Christianity look bad. Joe stands by his faith and his faith doesn't let him down.
Thank you Mr. Robinson, you have made my list of favorite books, right at the top along side Mr. Snyder.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Within A Buffalo's Breath
The Wichita Mountains are the oldest mountain range in the United States, or at least that is what those more learned than I claim. A big pile of boulders that stretch across the western section of Oklahoma has made it's own history over the years, now it was about to impose some history on me.
We were returning to our vehicle after hiking through the wildlife refuge, soaking in the beauty of this often overlooked natural wonderland. After all, if you want to go to the mountains, you go to the Rockies, right? As we approached the picnic area that we parked in, we were surprised, no we were terrified, that a herd of buffalo had decide to surround our car like the trail driver would circle the wagons. There must have been a hundred head relaxing in the sun, with the car smack in the middle of them.
My wife looked at me and asked the question that had already crossed my mind, "What are we going to do now? There's buffalo surrounding our car!"
No kidding darling, I glad you told me, "You stay here, I'll work my way to the car. If I make it to it, you take a long sweep around the herd and meet me at the road. I'll try to drive through them." I tried to sound brave, but I couldn't convince myself let along her.
My legs were shaking as I set off on my quest. As I approached the herd, the aroma of a hundred bison's bad breath turned my stomach. I climbed on a picnic table to form a path through the herd, from the picnic table to the dead scrub oak tree, which I believed was alive before the buffalo breath reached it. From the scrub oak over to the granite boulder, through the prairie dog town, over to the dry creek bed to the elm tree and over to my car.
As I stood on the picnic table a car turned into the picnic area. I don't know if they noticed me stuck on the table, but they quickly turned around and left. I quickly went over the route again and started a debate among my friends, Me, Myself and I, on whether I should run or just walk like nothing is wrong. Myself reminded Me that I could run ten yards without cramping up, so a slow walk won out.
I strolled over to the scrub oak and paused. The closest I came to a buffalo was about five yards, he rolled his big brown eyes over to me, snorted and quickly dismissed me. I was trying to remind myself if the outer animals of the herd acted like a sentry. I decided it wasn't the time to take up a psychological study, it was time to move.
About twenty yards off was the boulder, when I get there I'll climb to the top and hopefully make my presence know to the herd. To get there the only path ran between two buffalo that laid back to back. So off I strolled coming so close that I could see way too much detail of a pair of two thousand pound raging muscle. The dust was flying in the air as their tails smacked the ground in a beat that was reminiscent of the war drums that echoed through the mountains in years past. Their dark brown coat and mane matted with a layer of dust and mud. Fly's were buzzing around their eyes and ears. I tip-toed pass the lying giants and climbed up on the boulder.
As I reached the top, I looked over to the prairie dog town and there he was. I don't know if he was the leader of the pack or if he was just one of the guys, all I knew was that he was one huge dude and he was staring back at me. His breathing increased as did my blood pressure, he was becoming increasingly agitated with my presence. I was over half way to the car, I couldn't turn back now. Who is going to be the macho-man here? Who is going to be the real stud-muffin? I quickly decided on an alternate route, a straight thirty yard sprint to the car, with luck I can make it before my body realizes that I'm running and shuts down.
I ease off the rock and slowly saunter towards my destination. My eyes are scanning the herd like the radar on a battleship. If one moves, I'll make the mad dash to the car with hopes that it will start. The big boys eyes never leave me as he follows my every step. Ten yards, no attention paid to me; twenty yards, I can see the finish line; thirty yards I step to my door to unlock it. Son of a sea cook! The keys are in the backpack. The backpack is on my wife's back. My wife's back is out by the road. I slid down in the dirt beside the car and curl up in the fetal position and decide that today is a good day to die.
A new sound reaches my ears. It's not really a sound but more of a noise. Engine noise. I look up and a ranger is driving through the herd over to me with my wife sitting beside him, dangling the keys in her hand.
After we drive out the ranger tells us that the car that pulled in and saw the herd also saw me on top of the picnic table. They drove to the information booth and reported to them who sent the ranger to save me. He was impressed that I actually walked among the herd. His last words as he drove off, "You know that a man was gored here last year don't ya?"
We were returning to our vehicle after hiking through the wildlife refuge, soaking in the beauty of this often overlooked natural wonderland. After all, if you want to go to the mountains, you go to the Rockies, right? As we approached the picnic area that we parked in, we were surprised, no we were terrified, that a herd of buffalo had decide to surround our car like the trail driver would circle the wagons. There must have been a hundred head relaxing in the sun, with the car smack in the middle of them.
My wife looked at me and asked the question that had already crossed my mind, "What are we going to do now? There's buffalo surrounding our car!"
No kidding darling, I glad you told me, "You stay here, I'll work my way to the car. If I make it to it, you take a long sweep around the herd and meet me at the road. I'll try to drive through them." I tried to sound brave, but I couldn't convince myself let along her.
My legs were shaking as I set off on my quest. As I approached the herd, the aroma of a hundred bison's bad breath turned my stomach. I climbed on a picnic table to form a path through the herd, from the picnic table to the dead scrub oak tree, which I believed was alive before the buffalo breath reached it. From the scrub oak over to the granite boulder, through the prairie dog town, over to the dry creek bed to the elm tree and over to my car.
As I stood on the picnic table a car turned into the picnic area. I don't know if they noticed me stuck on the table, but they quickly turned around and left. I quickly went over the route again and started a debate among my friends, Me, Myself and I, on whether I should run or just walk like nothing is wrong. Myself reminded Me that I could run ten yards without cramping up, so a slow walk won out.
I strolled over to the scrub oak and paused. The closest I came to a buffalo was about five yards, he rolled his big brown eyes over to me, snorted and quickly dismissed me. I was trying to remind myself if the outer animals of the herd acted like a sentry. I decided it wasn't the time to take up a psychological study, it was time to move.
About twenty yards off was the boulder, when I get there I'll climb to the top and hopefully make my presence know to the herd. To get there the only path ran between two buffalo that laid back to back. So off I strolled coming so close that I could see way too much detail of a pair of two thousand pound raging muscle. The dust was flying in the air as their tails smacked the ground in a beat that was reminiscent of the war drums that echoed through the mountains in years past. Their dark brown coat and mane matted with a layer of dust and mud. Fly's were buzzing around their eyes and ears. I tip-toed pass the lying giants and climbed up on the boulder.
As I reached the top, I looked over to the prairie dog town and there he was. I don't know if he was the leader of the pack or if he was just one of the guys, all I knew was that he was one huge dude and he was staring back at me. His breathing increased as did my blood pressure, he was becoming increasingly agitated with my presence. I was over half way to the car, I couldn't turn back now. Who is going to be the macho-man here? Who is going to be the real stud-muffin? I quickly decided on an alternate route, a straight thirty yard sprint to the car, with luck I can make it before my body realizes that I'm running and shuts down.
I ease off the rock and slowly saunter towards my destination. My eyes are scanning the herd like the radar on a battleship. If one moves, I'll make the mad dash to the car with hopes that it will start. The big boys eyes never leave me as he follows my every step. Ten yards, no attention paid to me; twenty yards, I can see the finish line; thirty yards I step to my door to unlock it. Son of a sea cook! The keys are in the backpack. The backpack is on my wife's back. My wife's back is out by the road. I slid down in the dirt beside the car and curl up in the fetal position and decide that today is a good day to die.
A new sound reaches my ears. It's not really a sound but more of a noise. Engine noise. I look up and a ranger is driving through the herd over to me with my wife sitting beside him, dangling the keys in her hand.
After we drive out the ranger tells us that the car that pulled in and saw the herd also saw me on top of the picnic table. They drove to the information booth and reported to them who sent the ranger to save me. He was impressed that I actually walked among the herd. His last words as he drove off, "You know that a man was gored here last year don't ya?"
And that was the last thing I remember as day became night as my knees gave way.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
An Interview With Myself
An interview with Me, Myself, and I was scheduled for today. The interview was late starting due to I not showing up.
Me: Glad you accepted this interview, are you ready to get started?
Myself: Shouldn't we wait till I shows up.
Me: You know I, he'll be late, and we can't wait.
Myself: OK, begin the interrogation.
Me: How would you describe yourself?
Myself: It's Myself, not Yourself. Yourself lives down the block.
Me: OK, how would you describe Myself?
Myself: If I were on the outside looking in, I would say that Myself is a complicated person. A man of many talents but a master of none. A man who loves his God, his family and his country, and would die for any of them. A man who loves to make people laugh and sing in their soul. But what does I know, he didn't show up for this interview, so forget all that.
Me: What's your background?
Myself: Born to a pipe liner in Austin, Texas many moons ago. Raised in Kansas and settled in Oklahoma. I now work for an oil service company but don't tell my mom, she thinks I play piano in a whorehouse and I wouldn't want to disappoint her.
Me: If you could tell the world one thing what would it be?
Myself: Send me a dollar.
Me: Send you a dollar, that's kinda selfish.
Myself: If everyone in the world would send me a dollar, I wouldn't have to work, I could do many things to help those around me if I didn't have to work. I could sleep till noon if I didn't have to work.
Me: So that's your motivation, sleeping till noon.
Myself: Only on days that end in y.
I: Hey there guys, I'm sorry I'm late.
Me and Myself: Might know that you show up now that the work is finished!
Me: Glad you accepted this interview, are you ready to get started?
Myself: Shouldn't we wait till I shows up.
Me: You know I, he'll be late, and we can't wait.
Myself: OK, begin the interrogation.
Me: How would you describe yourself?
Myself: It's Myself, not Yourself. Yourself lives down the block.
Me: OK, how would you describe Myself?
Myself: If I were on the outside looking in, I would say that Myself is a complicated person. A man of many talents but a master of none. A man who loves his God, his family and his country, and would die for any of them. A man who loves to make people laugh and sing in their soul. But what does I know, he didn't show up for this interview, so forget all that.
Me: What's your background?
Myself: Born to a pipe liner in Austin, Texas many moons ago. Raised in Kansas and settled in Oklahoma. I now work for an oil service company but don't tell my mom, she thinks I play piano in a whorehouse and I wouldn't want to disappoint her.
Me: If you could tell the world one thing what would it be?
Myself: Send me a dollar.
Me: Send you a dollar, that's kinda selfish.
Myself: If everyone in the world would send me a dollar, I wouldn't have to work, I could do many things to help those around me if I didn't have to work. I could sleep till noon if I didn't have to work.
Me: So that's your motivation, sleeping till noon.
Myself: Only on days that end in y.
I: Hey there guys, I'm sorry I'm late.
Me and Myself: Might know that you show up now that the work is finished!
Saturday, July 5, 2008
My Name Is Russell Fink
Ok, I'm doing it again. I know I said this wouldn't be a book review blog but there are a few books out there that I just need to talk about. This is one of them.I met Michael Snyder on ChristianWriters.com. I asked a typical newbie question and he made a comment that helped steer me in the right direction. I thought what a cool dude and I checked out his bio, found his website and was amazed that he was a real honest to goodness published writer, with a honest to goodness published book, by a honest to goodness publishing company. I had to have that book.
This book is great, one of the best that I've read in a long while. I've been stuck in the mystery/thriller genre for a while and even though this has some mystery and intrigue, it will keep you laughing through the slight of hand humor that Mr. Snyder has.
Russell Fink is an artist, I can identify with that, that works at a job he hates, I can identify with that. He has a psychotic fiancee', an equally weird and psychotic family, a hypothermic friend and a clairvoyant basset hound. Mr. Snyder is a storyteller and this is storytelling at its best. Its honest, funny, and will grab your heart, as you'll soon identify with Russell Fink.
Go, right now, to Amazon and get this book. You won't be sorry.
Friday, July 4, 2008
John Adams, 2nd President of the United States:"The general principles on which the fathers achieved independence were the general principles of Christianity. I will avow that I then believed, and now believe, that those general principles of Christianity are as eternal and immutable as the existence and attributes of God."
John Quincy Adams, 6th President of the United States:
"My hopes of a future life are all founded upon the Gospel of Christ and I cannot cavil or quibble away...the whole tenor of His conduct by which He sometimes positively asserted and at others countenances His disciples in asserting that He was God."
George Washington, "Father of our Country", 1st President of the United States:
"I now make it my earnest prayer that God would...most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of the mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion."
So they now say that the founding fathers were not Christians, that the U.S.A. wasn't founded on Christian principles. They sought God's guidance and knew without it that they would fail. Did they fail? We wouldn't be here today on this fine July 4th if they had failed. They were of one mind, and that mind was focused on God and His leading. Whether you want to believe it or not, whether you hate Christianity because of it makes you feel guilty and you hate those Bible thumpers, this nation was "One nation under God". Today's leadership's lack of seeking God is what has gotten us in the mess the media says we are in. It's not Bush's fault alone, it is the fault of those who worship the political party over all else. If Jesus Himself was to walk into Congress and say "This is what you do to guide your nation", they would yell Him down and scoff at Him because He wasn't of their party. Mr. and Ms. Senator, Mr or Ms. Representative, Mr. President, look to our founding fathers and follow their example and their advice. We don't need another Republican or Democrat, we need God seekers, are you a big enough person to do that despite what the media says about you?
Sunday, June 29, 2008
I've had a request for information regarding my grandfather and grandmother and who their children was etc, etc. Genealogy research, research of those who gone before us. What I wonder is what is the big deal? Is somehow knowing where I came from determine where I'm going? Am I on a course to repeat the course that someone set before me hundreds of years ago? Who I am is a result of who they were, at least physically, perhaps mentally. But what about spiritually? Is who they were guide me to the point of decision when I have to make up my mind about Jesus, did the way they lived their lives point me to him? Yes and no. Unbelief points you no where, where belief points you to eternal life in Christ Jesus. Unbelief also points to eternal life, but not the kind you want. Unbelief points you on the path the Hell and eternity there can't be described by any pain felt here on earth. Belief points to eternal life with Jesus, worshiping Him in Heaven, where there is streets of gold, a mansion built just for me, and eternal light that drives every shadow out.
I hope that I point my family towards the Light and not the dark. I hope that my life will be remembered in a hundred years as one who blessed his grandkids grandkids by the life he lead and passed on to those who came after me. Maybe looking at the past might be a good thing, it lets you look at where you've been and where you're going and determine where to correct the course.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Ten Words
George Carlin's death filled the news today, so this entry is for him. I don't know what his relationship with Jesus was, but I can imagine by his routine. So, for George:
Ten Words You Can't Say In Hell
1. Fun - "This ain't the Love Boat!"
2. Cool - Who'd want to be reminded of being cool?
3. Friend - "Will anybody talk to me, we're gonna be here a long time."
4. Water - "Hey, my mouths a little dry here."
5. Thermostat - As in where is it
6. Beauty - Cause satan is soooo ugly.
7. Bible - No one can quote it there anyway
8. Holy - Unless you are trying to convince God you are there by mistake
9. Saved - Too late to save your behind now
10. Jesus (in a respectful, reverence way); you can't say Jesus in school either, maybe there's a connection there.
Ten Words You Can't Say In Hell
1. Fun - "This ain't the Love Boat!"
2. Cool - Who'd want to be reminded of being cool?
3. Friend - "Will anybody talk to me, we're gonna be here a long time."
4. Water - "Hey, my mouths a little dry here."
5. Thermostat - As in where is it
6. Beauty - Cause satan is soooo ugly.
7. Bible - No one can quote it there anyway
8. Holy - Unless you are trying to convince God you are there by mistake
9. Saved - Too late to save your behind now
10. Jesus (in a respectful, reverence way); you can't say Jesus in school either, maybe there's a connection there.
Friday, June 20, 2008
She adjusted her pearls in the mirror as the sounds of her family gathering below flowed over her like the smell of her favorite perfume. It’s been so long since we’ve been together, she thought, now everyone is home. She tugged at her blouse one last time and turned to go downstairs to join the family. Standing in the door watching her was Jed Delaney, her sweet Jed, her beloved husband of over twenty-five years.
“Martha, you look radiant as usual,” Jed said as he took her hand, “the gang’s all here, are you ready?”
“Yes, darling,” she said as she pecked him on the cheek.They descended the stairs into the front parlor, a crackling fire welcoming them.
At the bottom step waiting on them was their oldest son, Michael, who had arrived just a few moments before. Michael grabbed Martha and gave her a big bear hug, “Mom, it is so good to see you and dad, I’ve missed you so much.”Beside Michael was Jackie O, as they called her, a nice Irish girl named Jaclyn Katharine O’Reily before she became Michael’s bride and mother to their two sons, Matthew and Mark, and yes, they are working on Luke and John.
Mary Beth, the only daughter, sat in the overstuffed leather wing chair, looking like the princess she was. As her mother approached, she rose and they embraced, communicating as only a mother and daughter could. Mary Beth hooked her arms through Martha’s and they turned toward Ross.
Ross was the baby of the family and Martha mothered over him as he grew up. Often Martha refused to let him join in with his friends, “They’re such a rowdy bunch,” but Ross never really would mind as he knew Martha would make it up to him somehow.Martha walked over to Ross and adjusted his tie, “A man in uniform can’t have a crooked tie,” she said. “You look so handsome in your dress blues.” She reached down and put a letter in his hand. “You can read it later, it’s just mushy mom stuff.” She looked at Mary Beth and together they straightened the flag that draped Ross’ coffin, Martha looked back at Ross. “Welcome home baby boy, now the family is all together once again.”
“Martha, you look radiant as usual,” Jed said as he took her hand, “the gang’s all here, are you ready?”
“Yes, darling,” she said as she pecked him on the cheek.They descended the stairs into the front parlor, a crackling fire welcoming them.
At the bottom step waiting on them was their oldest son, Michael, who had arrived just a few moments before. Michael grabbed Martha and gave her a big bear hug, “Mom, it is so good to see you and dad, I’ve missed you so much.”Beside Michael was Jackie O, as they called her, a nice Irish girl named Jaclyn Katharine O’Reily before she became Michael’s bride and mother to their two sons, Matthew and Mark, and yes, they are working on Luke and John.
Mary Beth, the only daughter, sat in the overstuffed leather wing chair, looking like the princess she was. As her mother approached, she rose and they embraced, communicating as only a mother and daughter could. Mary Beth hooked her arms through Martha’s and they turned toward Ross.
Ross was the baby of the family and Martha mothered over him as he grew up. Often Martha refused to let him join in with his friends, “They’re such a rowdy bunch,” but Ross never really would mind as he knew Martha would make it up to him somehow.Martha walked over to Ross and adjusted his tie, “A man in uniform can’t have a crooked tie,” she said. “You look so handsome in your dress blues.” She reached down and put a letter in his hand. “You can read it later, it’s just mushy mom stuff.” She looked at Mary Beth and together they straightened the flag that draped Ross’ coffin, Martha looked back at Ross. “Welcome home baby boy, now the family is all together once again.”
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Monkey In My Hair
What I'm about to tell is true, I swear
About the monkey that stole my hair
It was a pet of a quaint millionaire
Whose head was shiny bare
The monkey tied me to a chair
Which caught me totally unaware
He pulled out the clippers and began this sad affair
While a polar bear played solitaire
But I really must declare
This affair wasn't totally unfair
For this haircut made me look so debonair
Well, now you can tell I ain't no Voltaire
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Badge Of Honor
I wear a badge. Not a badge of authority but a badge of honor. They badge I so proudly wear is my name. I'm not proud of meaning or who might have worn it in centuries past, but I'm proud of it because of the man who gave it to me, my father. I look back at the lessons he taught me, work ethic, not to talk just to be talking (some say we're "Quiet Men"), love of family and friends, and much, much more.'' My mother calls me "The Chip" and calls dad "Old Block", another badge of honor.
His steps have slowed, his eye sight has dimmed, still after 88 years of this earth, he still influences people with his ethics. He rotortilled his garden again this year, he still mows the four acres that their house sits on, after a meal he will get up and wash the dishes.
He has always been a man's man and he still is. He has always been a loving father and he still is. I'm sure there were times he would have given up on me but he never did.
Thanks dad, you are my hero, alway have been and always will be
Saturday, June 14, 2008
I didn't start this blog as a book review spot, but I decided that if I read a good one, why not blog about it? Who knows, maybe someday somebody will write a review of my book.Robert Liparulo is one of my new favorite authors, germ, is the second of his books I read, Comes A Horseman was the first. If you like sit on the edge of your chair I can't put this book down stories, then this book is for you. It has the Walk seal of approval on it and I don't give that out just for fun.
Taken from his website, (I hope that's OK Mr. Liparulo):
"Imagine a virus that spreads as a common cold, until it finds a DNA strand that matches the one encoded within it—until it finds the one person it's looking for. Then it turns brutally lethal. No one is safe. If you breathe, it will find you. To prove it, the germ's creator targets ten thousand victims: politicians, housewives, children. Only three people can possibly stop it—if they survive long enough."
My interest was grabbed in the opening and never left until the last word. It is one of those books that make you wonder if it is really fiction or not. The characters are well defined and the books moves from one scene to another effortlessly.
A friend interviewed Mr. Liparulo for her review blog and said how nice a man he was, easy to talk with and just generally a good ole boy. It was by her recommendation that I started reading Mr. Liparulo.
His last book, Deadfall, lies patiently waiting for me to pick it up and start digesting it. I have two other books ahead of it, maybe by the end of the summer I'll have a review of it.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
The Picture
I look at this picture
Not color, but black and white,
Of my granny and gramps
Posing with smiles so bright.
Their house in the background,
Their dog not out of their sight.
Granny's a head taller,
Gramps didn't care much about height.
Wearing their sweaters
Buttoned up so tight.
Cane in their hands
Bad legs were their plight.
Eye glasses sitting on their nose
Magnifying their eyes so bright.
One of the last pictures taken
Before Gramps left on his homeward flight.
Leaving Granny alone in their house
Missing her beloved knight
Not color, but black and white,
Of my granny and gramps
Posing with smiles so bright.
Their house in the background,
Their dog not out of their sight.
Granny's a head taller,
Gramps didn't care much about height.
Wearing their sweaters
Buttoned up so tight.
Cane in their hands
Bad legs were their plight.
Eye glasses sitting on their nose
Magnifying their eyes so bright.
One of the last pictures taken
Before Gramps left on his homeward flight.
Leaving Granny alone in their house
Missing her beloved knight
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Have you ever laid on your back in a field of wild flowers and looked into the sky and imagined what the cloud would form?
Have you ever laid in a field of wild flowers on a blanket with someone you loved and looked into the night sky and wish on the stars what your life would be like together?
Have you ever sat in a park on a summer's evening and listened to a band play jazz or blues?
Have you ever sat in a car overlooking the city and kiss the one you are with for each light that you could count?
Have you ever found that swimming hole that is just perfect and skinny dipped?
Have you ever looked into that special someone's eyes and know what they are thinking?
Is there anything that you once yearned to do but let life take it away from you?
Is there something that burns deep in you heart that is yet unfulfilled?
What are you waiting for?
Thursday, May 22, 2008
This Old House
I've always loved old houses. I like to look at one and think of how I would improve it if it were mine, like adding a picket fence and a stone walkway. While on vacation, my wife and I decided to get off the interstate and seventy-five miles per hour excitement and take some two lane black top roads. One thing you always see on those back roads are old farm houses that now stand empty. the windows are knocked out, the doors are off the hinges, and the roof leaking. Someone's dream home, now standing abandoned, waiting for time to take its toll.
When I look at these old houses, I can see the kids playing in the yard, clothes hanging on the line, the wife yelling at the husband in the field that suppers ready. A house that once was filled with life, now an empty shell.
I see other empty shells every day and everywhere. They are at work, at the store, and at church. I see people whose life is as empty as that old house. They long for their life to be remodeled, they hunt and search for that something that makes them feel new again.
That's where we come in. We are the Carpenter's helper. This Carpenter can remodel their heart and soul. We can show them how we were once run-down and unpainted but now we are made new again in Christ.
The next time you are traveling and see an old run down house or building, say a prayer for someone you know that is lost and believe that through the blood of Jesus that they will be remodeled, renewed by His Spirit.
44 Questions
I don't normally do this sort of thing, but I thought this might be fun. What would be your answers to this questions?
1. Do you like blue cheese? More than green cheese
2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No, but smoked salmon once
3. Do you own a gun? a Cap pistol
4. What flavor do you add to your drink as a tonic? haven't drank since they invented the funnel
5. What do you think of hot dogs? Bring them in where it's cool
6. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? No, I don't know when my doctor has an appointment
7. Favorite Christmas movie. Bishops Wife with Carry Grant
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Something liquid
9. Do you do pushups? Only during, well, never mind
10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? The diamond necklace I bought my wife for Valentine's day
11. Favorite hobby? complaining
12. Do you have A.D.D.? I subtract better
13. What's one trait you hate about yourself? That I do lists
14. Middle name? Naw, middle is a stupid name
15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? voices in my head, voices in my head, voices in my head
16. Name 3 things you bought yesterday. the farm, her excuse, bonds
17. Name 4 drinks you regularly drink? I'm not regular, have any ex-lax?
18. Current worry? What? Me Worry?
19. Current frustration right now? That this isn't question 44
20. Favorite place to be? Anywhere Howard Stern isn't
21. How did you bring in the New Year? New Year? It's May, I'm suppose to remember the New Years?
22. Where would you like to go? To the bathroom
23. Name two people who will complete this. Waldo, if we can find him and Harry Potter
24. Do you own slippers? Only on ice in the winter
25. What shirt are you wearing? Wouldn't you like to know
26. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Who can sleep on satin sheets, you slid right out of bed
27. Favorite color? green, along with 20's in the corners
28. Would you be a pirate? eye may tee, love to wear an eye patch
29. What songs do you sing in the shower? Singing in the rain
30.Favorite girl's name? Grizelda
31. Make up your own question. What is Jeopardy?
32. What's in your pocket right now? lint
33. Last thing that made you laugh? gas
34. Best bed sheets as a child? clean ones
35.Worst injury you've ever had? Broke my toe while flash dancing
36. Do you love where you live? dunno, never there
37. How many TV's do you have in your house? Not sure, too many books to count all the t's and v's in them
38. Who is your loudest friend? friend? who has friends
39. How many dogs do you have? besides my girlfriend?
40. Does someone have a crush on you? I do :-)
41. What is your favorite book? The Bible, nothing to joke about there
42. What song do you want played at your funeral? Take me home country roads.
43. What were you doing 12 AM last night? Don't know, I was asleep
44. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? Man, I gotta pee!
1. Do you like blue cheese? More than green cheese
2. Have you ever smoked heroin? No, but smoked salmon once
3. Do you own a gun? a Cap pistol
4. What flavor do you add to your drink as a tonic? haven't drank since they invented the funnel
5. What do you think of hot dogs? Bring them in where it's cool
6. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments? No, I don't know when my doctor has an appointment
7. Favorite Christmas movie. Bishops Wife with Carry Grant
8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning? Something liquid
9. Do you do pushups? Only during, well, never mind
10. What's your favorite piece of jewelry? The diamond necklace I bought my wife for Valentine's day
11. Favorite hobby? complaining
12. Do you have A.D.D.? I subtract better
13. What's one trait you hate about yourself? That I do lists
14. Middle name? Naw, middle is a stupid name
15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment? voices in my head, voices in my head, voices in my head
16. Name 3 things you bought yesterday. the farm, her excuse, bonds
17. Name 4 drinks you regularly drink? I'm not regular, have any ex-lax?
18. Current worry? What? Me Worry?
19. Current frustration right now? That this isn't question 44
20. Favorite place to be? Anywhere Howard Stern isn't
21. How did you bring in the New Year? New Year? It's May, I'm suppose to remember the New Years?
22. Where would you like to go? To the bathroom
23. Name two people who will complete this. Waldo, if we can find him and Harry Potter
24. Do you own slippers? Only on ice in the winter
25. What shirt are you wearing? Wouldn't you like to know
26. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets? Who can sleep on satin sheets, you slid right out of bed
27. Favorite color? green, along with 20's in the corners
28. Would you be a pirate? eye may tee, love to wear an eye patch
29. What songs do you sing in the shower? Singing in the rain
30.Favorite girl's name? Grizelda
31. Make up your own question. What is Jeopardy?
32. What's in your pocket right now? lint
33. Last thing that made you laugh? gas
34. Best bed sheets as a child? clean ones
35.Worst injury you've ever had? Broke my toe while flash dancing
36. Do you love where you live? dunno, never there
37. How many TV's do you have in your house? Not sure, too many books to count all the t's and v's in them
38. Who is your loudest friend? friend? who has friends
39. How many dogs do you have? besides my girlfriend?
40. Does someone have a crush on you? I do :-)
41. What is your favorite book? The Bible, nothing to joke about there
42. What song do you want played at your funeral? Take me home country roads.
43. What were you doing 12 AM last night? Don't know, I was asleep
44. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up? Man, I gotta pee!
Friday, May 16, 2008
FaLaLa LaLaLaLa
Whatever happened to the Banana Splits? Whatever happened to those six wheeled atvs that they rode around in? Matter of fact, whatever happened to Saturday cartoon's? What's up with all this superhero junk? Don't our kids need to learn to laugh? Learn how to pull pranks on each other instead of pulling triggers on each other? Hollywood claims that TV and movies are no powerful tools of influence, that they are just providing the entertainment that people desire. Well, I say "Bull@*#". Where are the actors with integrity like Jimmy Stewart? He was married to the same woman "Til death do you part". He had children in wedlock, you won't find that today. We don't have to stop in Hollywood. Look at Washington. Well, don't look too hard or you will become very discouraged. Gay representatives, a Senator who killed his girlfriend, on and on and on it goes. People we need prayer. We need to fall to our knees and pray that God will rescue us before the walls fall down. We need to fast and turn our hearts toward Him. The trouble with the church in America today is we have stop depending on God and we have started to depend on each other. When will the church wake up? 911 woke us up for about a year. What is God going to do to get our attention? Read His Word, He let Israel be defeated several times in order for them to return to Him. Come quickly Lord Jesus, come before the wolves take over the hen house.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day
I am privileged to have Bessie as my mother for my whole life. I say whole life because she stayed with me, she knew her obligation as a mother and cherished it. She didn't run away when things were tough, when I was a big knothead teenager and young adult. She stood by my good decisions and bad. So many this day are sad because of the kind of mother they had, sad that everyone they see is celebrating motherhood and all they can do is curse it. Their mother abandoned them, physically or emotionally and left them in this world alone. Who do they turn to when the one who brought them into the world could care less that they are alive and sometimes wishes they weren't. I can't speak for them but I can for me, when things are tough in my life there is only one place I turn, and that is to my Father. My holy, exalted, loving Heavenly Father who gives us life eternal, who is the Alpha and Omega, who loves them enough to die for them. Thankfully my mother was a child of God and showed his love and mercy to me as she tried to direct me to Him. I thank God for putting me with the parents he did. Thank you Jesus for my parents, especially bless my mother this day, Lord, bless her. Thank you mom, thanks for sacrificing so that I could become who I am.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Run To The Oak
On a friends blog, Too Much Sugar For A Dime, she had pictures of a walk-about she did of her property showing the different trees and blueberries and such with comments about how the land was healing after Ivan blew through a few years back. One picture was of a tree and she labeled it "Survivor Oak", it's shape was almost identical shape of the OKC Survivor Tree which I believe is an oak also.
This tree stood through the darkest period of Oklahoma history and in the aftermath stood as a symbol of healing and hope for a community that was rocked to the foundations. It still stands today, and when you visit the Memorial you see people around that tree still pulling hope and healing from it.
One day each one of us will go through a period when we will be rocked to our foundations. What is your oak tree? What will be left standing in the aftermath? My oak tree is two rough cut, blood stained planks that form a cross, a cross that changed history for all mankind. It is a cross where the Creator of the cross was put to death so I wouldn't have to be. When my time comes I will run to the foot of the cross and lay it at His feet and receive His comfort, His healing and His hope. There is nothing else to run to that will give you that. Not an oak tree, not a priest, not a king, only the King of Kings can relieve you and refresh you.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Are You My Friend?
I think it is pretty amazing how close friends you can become with someone who you have never met. I have taken some writing courses on ed2go and have made some great friends, then there are other groups like FaithWriters, ChristianWriters, MyBookTherapy and a few others where I have connected with a few through posting there. How can we make friends with someone we have never seen? What pulls us to a person we have never spoken other than through written words? I think we drop the labels when we're online. We're not effected by our first impressions, we become ourselves instead of putting on a mask of who we think people want us to be. How much difference would the world be if we would just be ourselves and drop all the false masks we wear.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
What Are Words?
What are words? Why do words have such a impact on our life? They are used to hurt, insult, belittle; they are used to make us laugh or to make us cry. They are used to encourage, to build up, to inspire. They are daggers when used in hate. They are stepping stones into worlds unknown. They tell others of our love, our need for them, our hope of our life together. Words are a responsibility that we need to take seriously. Writers, whether it be books, music or magazines have been given a task to use these words for the betterment of mankind. As a fledgling writer I have to evaluate what I write and does it build up or tear down, does it inspire or does it tear dreams away from someones very soul. My hope is that I can inspire and bring someone closer to the One who designed the words we used and placed them in a book that tells of Him and His love for us. That, my friend, is the greatest use of the written word, to show someone the living Word.
Friday, April 25, 2008
A Big Wahoo
Something happened this week that never happens to me, I won something. I entered a weekly writing contest on FaithWriters.com and I took first in the Level 1 (Beginners) category. To top it off I was #8 on the Editor's Choice picks which will put my entry into a real honest to goodness printed book. Wow, I'm going to be a published author. It encourages me to keep writing and that someone actually liked what I wrote is awesome. Look out, I see a Nobel on my mantle before long.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Ella Rose
A little girl entered this world this week. One I'm proud to call granddaughter. Even bundled up in hospital blankets, she lit up the room. Her cry sounded like angels wings, lifting the spirits of grandparents and parents. Little Ella Rose, welcome to the family, thank you for joining us.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Champs
Yipee, Kansas is NCAA National Basketball Champs!!!!!! Way to go Hawks!!!!! Don't wait another twenty years to repeat. Thanks for a great season, you ARE great!!!!!
Monday, April 7, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Charlie
A friend was buried today
I didn't have anything to say
He smiled he laughed
While working at his craft
Shook hands and greeted
Made sure you were well treated
Now he has his reward
Sitting before the Lord
Listening to the Son
"Well done, Charlie, Well done."
I didn't have anything to say
He smiled he laughed
While working at his craft
Shook hands and greeted
Made sure you were well treated
Now he has his reward
Sitting before the Lord
Listening to the Son
"Well done, Charlie, Well done."
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Limbs of a Tree
Limbs of a tree
Reaching to the heavens
What do you behold?
Where are your yearnings?
Limbs of a tree
Two Thousand years old
The Savior's precious blood
Coating your wood
Limbs of a tree
Hands nailed to your arms
Your part in mankind's salvation
Not noticed but necessary
Reaching to the heavens
What do you behold?
Where are your yearnings?
Limbs of a tree
Two Thousand years old
The Savior's precious blood
Coating your wood
Limbs of a tree
Hands nailed to your arms
Your part in mankind's salvation
Not noticed but necessary
Friday, March 21, 2008
I had an interesting discussion today on fear. A misunderstood emotion that often renders a person unable to function normally as they take fear to mean danger is looming and they can't cope with that. But fear is not only a defense mechicanism, it is a common sense tool also. Common sense tells you to fear a hot stove or a mad woman.
But why does someone fear something so great that they wouldn't leave their bathroom or their porch for years? We hear these stories and think that it is funny that they had to pry a woman from her toilet seat but in reality this poor woman freaked out and wouldn't leave the bathroom. Did she have bad bladder problems or was it that a blood vessel broke in her brain and left her unable to cope with life and eventually death.
There is really only one fear that should overcome us and that is fear of the Lord God Almighty. Not fear because He can strike us dead at any moment, but reverence for the one that gave us Grace, Hope and Peace. We deserve for Him to strike us down, but He chose to let us live. This weekend we will celebrate His decision to come die for us that we may live. He is an amazing God, and we need to be forever grateful for His sacrifice. May He enter your heart today and bless you in all that you do. Thank you Jesus for defeating death, come quickly.
But why does someone fear something so great that they wouldn't leave their bathroom or their porch for years? We hear these stories and think that it is funny that they had to pry a woman from her toilet seat but in reality this poor woman freaked out and wouldn't leave the bathroom. Did she have bad bladder problems or was it that a blood vessel broke in her brain and left her unable to cope with life and eventually death.
There is really only one fear that should overcome us and that is fear of the Lord God Almighty. Not fear because He can strike us dead at any moment, but reverence for the one that gave us Grace, Hope and Peace. We deserve for Him to strike us down, but He chose to let us live. This weekend we will celebrate His decision to come die for us that we may live. He is an amazing God, and we need to be forever grateful for His sacrifice. May He enter your heart today and bless you in all that you do. Thank you Jesus for defeating death, come quickly.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
The Path
To walk in the steps of others
Will guide me to places I've never been.
But to make my own footprints
Takes me to sights yet unseen.
Will guide me to places I've never been.
But to make my own footprints
Takes me to sights yet unseen.
Can I Do This?
Well, let me see how this works. I type something in here, and you read it. Amazing. Now, what can my first blog be about? How about what I had for lunch. Yeah, lunch, that's the ticket.
Ever since my wife developed heart trouble we have been eating a vegan diet. Not hard at all, in fact I don't miss meat all that much. But today a few of us here at work went to lunch and I splurged. I ate a double-double cheeseburger. A double meat, double cheese with bacon. It was good, but it wasn't any better than a good veggie burger. My opinion anyway.
I hope to post some of my writings here eventually when I get the drift of this blogging thing. So y'all come back and check this out. You will laugh, cry and say, "Where did he come up with that?" I hope to have fun with this and I hope you do too.
Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow, let us say goodbye until it be morrow. (Sorry Bill Shakespeare)
Walk
Ever since my wife developed heart trouble we have been eating a vegan diet. Not hard at all, in fact I don't miss meat all that much. But today a few of us here at work went to lunch and I splurged. I ate a double-double cheeseburger. A double meat, double cheese with bacon. It was good, but it wasn't any better than a good veggie burger. My opinion anyway.
I hope to post some of my writings here eventually when I get the drift of this blogging thing. So y'all come back and check this out. You will laugh, cry and say, "Where did he come up with that?" I hope to have fun with this and I hope you do too.
Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow, let us say goodbye until it be morrow. (Sorry Bill Shakespeare)
Walk
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