I've had a chance to think of a few things this weekend. In an effort to let you get "inside my head" (sometimes dangerous, I know), I'll tell you what some of those things were that came to my mind.
Family provides a kind of grounding that cannot be obtained from any other source.
Church family provides a different, but no less important grounding that cannot be obtained from any other source.
FCC Chairman Minow was right in 1961. Television was a vast wasteland then. It hasn't improved in the last 48 years.
Sometimes, I wonder if we'd be better off if we didn't borrow the hundreds of billions of dollars and just let the recession run its course.
What happened to the coffee pot that sat on the stove in Matt Dillon's (Gunsmoke) jail?
Some people seem to have more than their share of bad things that happen to them.
I don't tell people that I love them.
I haven't a clue what it's like to lose a child. I can only imagine the pain and sorrow.
Pizza sounds good.
Drifting off into an afternoon nap is probably one of the most pleasant things a body can do.
Waking from that nap can be one of the more unpleasant tasks.
I don't tell people that I love them.
Just having one's spouse in the house brings about a kind of peace that can't be found any other way.
Hillary was right. It does indeed take a village to raise a child. (And no, that's not a socialist...in the bad sense of the word...viewpoint.)
I have to wonder how many people I know who are literally one paycheck away from financial ruin.
What happened to the great comedians? Jerry Seinfeld and Ray Romano don't hold a candle to Red Skelton, Bud Abbot and Lou Costello, Jackie Gleason, or Flip Wilson (to say nothing of many others I could mention).
While on entertainment, I wonder how many people living today know who Jimmy
Durante is.
I don't tell people that I love them.
Christian service isn't glamorous or glorious, but is an everyday, every hour thing.
If this life is all there is, what meaning is there to that?
How much longer will we be able to remain where we are and in the jobs that we are in?
What is it like to be 90 years old?
I am cheering for Mr. Obama. I hope he doesn't forget where he came from or allow himself to be overly polluted with the stench of politics as usual.
I'm actually somewhat excited about work this week. I don't know why.
I don't tell people that I love them.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Crown
I came to work for an 8am meeting this morning. During the meeting they had bagels. As I was chewing on a bagel, I heard (and felt) this rather sickening "ccrrraaccckkk!!" in my mouth.
I had broken a tooth. Not chipped. Not cracked. But broken. I could wiggle part of the tooth independently of the other part. Upper right, fourth one from the middle. I thought it was one that I knew already had a small crack in it, but no, this is a brand new one. The one with the old crack is right behind this one, and needs a crown any day.
In pain, I call the dentist (Dr. Dakin). The woman says, "How soon can you get here?" I say, "In 20 minutes." She says, "We had a cancellation, and if you can get here, we can fix you up this morning."
Needless to say, I jumped (so to speak) at the chance to minimize the length of time I was in pain. I go into the office, and am ushered to the chair in just a couple of minutes (after they ascertain that, although I have no insurance, I can pay the bill). The woman asks how I am and if I'm comfortable. Yeah, well, what else does she really not wanna know? I ask if the head rest can be lengthened, and they take care of that. I am lowered until I think the back of my head will hit the floor.
The dentist makes his grand appearance and shakes my hand, grateful that he has a paying customer after all. He looks at the tooth and says, "Let's hope that the break radiated from the middle to the outer part of the tooth above the gum line, because if it cracked straight up the middle, we'll have to extract it and I'll need to make a bridge for you."
I slink even lower in the chair, certain that the worst has happened. I have visions of blood, gauze packing, pain pills, and a day off at home. Dr. Dakin grabs hold of the inside part of the tooth and pulls slightly. The chunk comes out and falls onto the back of my tongue. They suck it out with the suction thingy.
He looks at it again. "Hmm," he says. "Well, it radiated outward, so I think I can crown it."
Grateful for the small blessings, I said, "OK, let's do it." He dopes me up, grinds away, and makes computer images of what is left of the tooth. He sends all the info to his computer and crown-grinder and tells me to have a seat in the waiting room for about 30 minutes.
I go to the waiting room, doped up. I look for a magazine. There's one "Consumer Reports" that some woman is hogging. There is a magazine in the rack dated 1994. All the others are ragged "Woman's Day" or some other such tripe. No man stuff. No Reader's Digest. No more Consumer Reports. Sigh.
I decide to just sit there and wait. So I just sit there and wait. About 30 minutes later, the woman comes out, smiles, and says, "John, we're ready." So I go back and the Dr. tries my new crown on for size. When he pulls it off, he drops it and it falls onto the back of my tongue. My immediate reaction was to swallow, but fortunately, I was able to control that. He quickly sticks his instrument down there and finds it, bringing it up from the abyss, but never saying anything. I know, though, that he was sweating it for a minute or two.
He farkels with grinding it here and there, trying it on, etc., about 10 minutes, then shows it to me. I'm amazed at how big it is. He dries my tooth (which by this time is an exercise in pain, as the anesthetic has worn off, but I don't want any more), cements on the new crown, grinds some more, and I'm done.
So, two hours (and $750...thank heavens for HSA's) later, I am the proud owner of a new crown, courtesy of a bagel.
Isn't it wonderful!! Crowns made while you wait. No more wax impressions, temporaries that come off, waiting a week or more, etc. Of course, the cost is something to consider. When I went in last fall, the crown for the old cracked tooth was going to be $700. Now this year it went to $750. I wonder what happened that he had to up his price by 8 percent or so.
In any event, things are getting back to normal; my mouth feels like a truck drove through the right side, and I'm ready for the weekend.
I had broken a tooth. Not chipped. Not cracked. But broken. I could wiggle part of the tooth independently of the other part. Upper right, fourth one from the middle. I thought it was one that I knew already had a small crack in it, but no, this is a brand new one. The one with the old crack is right behind this one, and needs a crown any day.
In pain, I call the dentist (Dr. Dakin). The woman says, "How soon can you get here?" I say, "In 20 minutes." She says, "We had a cancellation, and if you can get here, we can fix you up this morning."
Needless to say, I jumped (so to speak) at the chance to minimize the length of time I was in pain. I go into the office, and am ushered to the chair in just a couple of minutes (after they ascertain that, although I have no insurance, I can pay the bill). The woman asks how I am and if I'm comfortable. Yeah, well, what else does she really not wanna know? I ask if the head rest can be lengthened, and they take care of that. I am lowered until I think the back of my head will hit the floor.
The dentist makes his grand appearance and shakes my hand, grateful that he has a paying customer after all. He looks at the tooth and says, "Let's hope that the break radiated from the middle to the outer part of the tooth above the gum line, because if it cracked straight up the middle, we'll have to extract it and I'll need to make a bridge for you."
I slink even lower in the chair, certain that the worst has happened. I have visions of blood, gauze packing, pain pills, and a day off at home. Dr. Dakin grabs hold of the inside part of the tooth and pulls slightly. The chunk comes out and falls onto the back of my tongue. They suck it out with the suction thingy.
He looks at it again. "Hmm," he says. "Well, it radiated outward, so I think I can crown it."
Grateful for the small blessings, I said, "OK, let's do it." He dopes me up, grinds away, and makes computer images of what is left of the tooth. He sends all the info to his computer and crown-grinder and tells me to have a seat in the waiting room for about 30 minutes.
I go to the waiting room, doped up. I look for a magazine. There's one "Consumer Reports" that some woman is hogging. There is a magazine in the rack dated 1994. All the others are ragged "Woman's Day" or some other such tripe. No man stuff. No Reader's Digest. No more Consumer Reports. Sigh.
I decide to just sit there and wait. So I just sit there and wait. About 30 minutes later, the woman comes out, smiles, and says, "John, we're ready." So I go back and the Dr. tries my new crown on for size. When he pulls it off, he drops it and it falls onto the back of my tongue. My immediate reaction was to swallow, but fortunately, I was able to control that. He quickly sticks his instrument down there and finds it, bringing it up from the abyss, but never saying anything. I know, though, that he was sweating it for a minute or two.
He farkels with grinding it here and there, trying it on, etc., about 10 minutes, then shows it to me. I'm amazed at how big it is. He dries my tooth (which by this time is an exercise in pain, as the anesthetic has worn off, but I don't want any more), cements on the new crown, grinds some more, and I'm done.
So, two hours (and $750...thank heavens for HSA's) later, I am the proud owner of a new crown, courtesy of a bagel.
Isn't it wonderful!! Crowns made while you wait. No more wax impressions, temporaries that come off, waiting a week or more, etc. Of course, the cost is something to consider. When I went in last fall, the crown for the old cracked tooth was going to be $700. Now this year it went to $750. I wonder what happened that he had to up his price by 8 percent or so.
In any event, things are getting back to normal; my mouth feels like a truck drove through the right side, and I'm ready for the weekend.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Winners All...No Losers
Over the Christmas holiday, we went to my brother's place for dinner. Most of the Wichita family was there...sis and her extended family, my brother's daughters, and our sons and their families. We did the things we usually do at a gathering such as this. We ate, visited, played games, ate, and visited. A good time was had by all.
One thing we did, though, that I really enjoyed for more than one reason was later in the afternoon, we went outside and had a touch football game for awhile, then played workup softball.
This may not seem like much, but I think the last time we did this was 8 years ago in the family's home town, on the home place, just before we moved away from there. We went out into the patch (as we called it), set up some bases, and played workup softball after Thanksgiving dinner 2000.
We aren't very good. We don't try to kill the ball. In fact, we usually have a rule that if the ball goes so far into the outfield, it's an out. That saves us out of shape oldsters from having to shag balls all the time and levels the field for all.
The point isn't who wins or loses. The point is doing something that we've done as a family over the years and keeping the tradition alive. And this last time, we had some newer members of the family that played with us. We welcome them and hope they can play workup with us for a long time to come.
However, there will come a time when we won't be able to play workup or divide up and play football. There will come a time when those things will be memories, just as the home place now is a memory. But at least for now, we can still throw a softball. We can still work up fancy schmancy football plays (that seldom work as planned). And we can cement the memories and familial relationships that have made this life so extra special for us all.
One thing we did, though, that I really enjoyed for more than one reason was later in the afternoon, we went outside and had a touch football game for awhile, then played workup softball.
This may not seem like much, but I think the last time we did this was 8 years ago in the family's home town, on the home place, just before we moved away from there. We went out into the patch (as we called it), set up some bases, and played workup softball after Thanksgiving dinner 2000.
We aren't very good. We don't try to kill the ball. In fact, we usually have a rule that if the ball goes so far into the outfield, it's an out. That saves us out of shape oldsters from having to shag balls all the time and levels the field for all.
The point isn't who wins or loses. The point is doing something that we've done as a family over the years and keeping the tradition alive. And this last time, we had some newer members of the family that played with us. We welcome them and hope they can play workup with us for a long time to come.
However, there will come a time when we won't be able to play workup or divide up and play football. There will come a time when those things will be memories, just as the home place now is a memory. But at least for now, we can still throw a softball. We can still work up fancy schmancy football plays (that seldom work as planned). And we can cement the memories and familial relationships that have made this life so extra special for us all.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
New President
Mr. Obama is the President of the United States. Now, that isn't news for most of you, and for some, it may even be bad news. But the fact is that he is the President, and we now have, for the first time in history, an African-American President. Just as many have already said, I never expected to see this day. Since I am Caucasian, I never put the personal emphasis on it as some have, but I have always been interested in things like this.
I recall as a child in the 1950's, growing up in a small, white community. I recall hearing the stirrings of the civil rights movement, and in the 1960's some of the tragedies of that time. I recall being somewhat confused by it all. After all, I didn't have to find a restroom that said "colored" on the door, or be careful where I went to conduct business. It wasn't that I was racist...I just didn't have an understanding of what was really going on.
I also recall as a child in the 1950's, when Dad ran cattle and an African-American veterinarian came to our town. We never talked much of it, and most of the people in the community pretty much left them alone, but Dad acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary in having Dr. Hurley treat his cattle.
I learned something from that experience of watching my father and this good doctor interact and transact business with one-another. And I suspect that most of us learned about race and race relations in exactly the same way. Fathers and mothers teach through their actions and words much more than they may ever know. Little eyes are watching and little ears are hearing, and little brains absorb it all.
Like it or not, Democrat or Republican, we have an obligation to support the President and to do all we can to make this republic all it can be. We have an obligation to pray for those in authority. And we have an obligation to be good citizens, pay our taxes, petition our government, and participate in the solution rather than remain part of the problem.
May God bless Barack Obama.
I recall as a child in the 1950's, growing up in a small, white community. I recall hearing the stirrings of the civil rights movement, and in the 1960's some of the tragedies of that time. I recall being somewhat confused by it all. After all, I didn't have to find a restroom that said "colored" on the door, or be careful where I went to conduct business. It wasn't that I was racist...I just didn't have an understanding of what was really going on.
I also recall as a child in the 1950's, when Dad ran cattle and an African-American veterinarian came to our town. We never talked much of it, and most of the people in the community pretty much left them alone, but Dad acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary in having Dr. Hurley treat his cattle.
I learned something from that experience of watching my father and this good doctor interact and transact business with one-another. And I suspect that most of us learned about race and race relations in exactly the same way. Fathers and mothers teach through their actions and words much more than they may ever know. Little eyes are watching and little ears are hearing, and little brains absorb it all.
Like it or not, Democrat or Republican, we have an obligation to support the President and to do all we can to make this republic all it can be. We have an obligation to pray for those in authority. And we have an obligation to be good citizens, pay our taxes, petition our government, and participate in the solution rather than remain part of the problem.
May God bless Barack Obama.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Crows and Memories
I went to the restaurant this morning to have breakfast with my sister. It’s Saturday, and I sometimes go out for breakfast on Saturday. I parked in the lot and got out of the pickup. No sooner had I gotten out than I heard a loud “caw, caw” from above. A crow had perched on the parking lot light and was eyeing me carefully, letting me know that he was there.
I muttered, “Yeah, I see you,” as I went on into the restaurant. He cawed at me all the way into the restaurant.
Now, I don’t know that most people would make much of that, but I had the thought that even though I was in the restaurant parking lot where no one knew me (or cared that I was there), here was this pair of eyes watching my every move from atop a lamp post.
Wiki says that those caws were probably the crow marking out his territory. I presume that he was letting me know that I was not welcome there, and to move on, which I did.
Many animals have taken to the city and have become accustomed to the noise, vehicles, people, and buildings. We don’t often see them, but they are there nevertheless. All manner of snakes, rodents, and small animals inhabit yards, brushy areas, and flower beds. Raccoons, opossums (opossii??), skunks, rabbits, and other larger animals flourish. And although some birds are driven out, others take their place. Crow, starlings, sparrows, robins and others are avian neighbors in most city areas.
Of course, we also have the usual assortment of spiders, roaches, and other insects that sometimes make our lives more complicated. I’ve always liked spiders, however, and particularly enjoy the fall of the year when the orb spider makes large webs around homes and in yards. I continue to be amazed at the ability of that spider to be a structural engineer, manufacturer, builder, and consumer all in the same package.
The world around us, even in the city, can be awe-inspiring and can open our eyes to something greater than ourselves. One of these days, I’ll again hear the hooting of a great horned owl, just as I have for most of my life. It’s one of those sounds that for me carries with it a flood of memory and emotion of times past and gone. Although I like to think I’m a forward-looking person, I also enjoy the memories that God has given me. But that’s for another blog….
I muttered, “Yeah, I see you,” as I went on into the restaurant. He cawed at me all the way into the restaurant.
Now, I don’t know that most people would make much of that, but I had the thought that even though I was in the restaurant parking lot where no one knew me (or cared that I was there), here was this pair of eyes watching my every move from atop a lamp post.
Wiki says that those caws were probably the crow marking out his territory. I presume that he was letting me know that I was not welcome there, and to move on, which I did.
Many animals have taken to the city and have become accustomed to the noise, vehicles, people, and buildings. We don’t often see them, but they are there nevertheless. All manner of snakes, rodents, and small animals inhabit yards, brushy areas, and flower beds. Raccoons, opossums (opossii??), skunks, rabbits, and other larger animals flourish. And although some birds are driven out, others take their place. Crow, starlings, sparrows, robins and others are avian neighbors in most city areas.
Of course, we also have the usual assortment of spiders, roaches, and other insects that sometimes make our lives more complicated. I’ve always liked spiders, however, and particularly enjoy the fall of the year when the orb spider makes large webs around homes and in yards. I continue to be amazed at the ability of that spider to be a structural engineer, manufacturer, builder, and consumer all in the same package.
The world around us, even in the city, can be awe-inspiring and can open our eyes to something greater than ourselves. One of these days, I’ll again hear the hooting of a great horned owl, just as I have for most of my life. It’s one of those sounds that for me carries with it a flood of memory and emotion of times past and gone. Although I like to think I’m a forward-looking person, I also enjoy the memories that God has given me. But that’s for another blog….
Monday, January 12, 2009
On The Way
Well, I guess I need to draw myself up and blog again. I chastise others for not blogging and now find myself more days down than I care to have between blogs. I don't know, though, it was kind of nice to take a brief break, especially since I haven't been feeling well the last couple of weeks.
You may well know what that's like; you get some viral bug that settles in your sinuses, then seems to migrate to the various parts of your body that cause the most grief for you when disturbed. It seems those bugs can't settle in your earlobe or your hair; no, they have to lodge in your intestinal tract, you lungs, or your sinuses. I was going to say "Stupid bugs," but that isn't true at all. They seem to know how to be one step ahead of the latest medicines and two steps ahead of the home cures.
Life continues, even when you'd much rather it just all stop until you're feeling better. Meetings, work, church, and all the rest just continue on, and your choice is whether or not you're going to submit to the bugs and miss them all or endure in spite of them. Sometimes one can endure. Often the bugs win, though, and whether we like it or not, our bodies say, "I'm not taking another step. I think I'll just lie down right here."
On a more serious note, one of these days when my body says it's going to lie down right here, it won't get up again. It'll be the final curtain call. I still don't know quite what I think about that, but I continue to become more and more enamored with the idea that there is a better life ahead where the bugs not only don't win, they don't even exist. My uncle signs off his blogs with "Pilgrim on the way." He may or may not be closer to wherever "on the way" takes him, but I know we both agree that what is there is so much better than what is here....
You may well know what that's like; you get some viral bug that settles in your sinuses, then seems to migrate to the various parts of your body that cause the most grief for you when disturbed. It seems those bugs can't settle in your earlobe or your hair; no, they have to lodge in your intestinal tract, you lungs, or your sinuses. I was going to say "Stupid bugs," but that isn't true at all. They seem to know how to be one step ahead of the latest medicines and two steps ahead of the home cures.
Life continues, even when you'd much rather it just all stop until you're feeling better. Meetings, work, church, and all the rest just continue on, and your choice is whether or not you're going to submit to the bugs and miss them all or endure in spite of them. Sometimes one can endure. Often the bugs win, though, and whether we like it or not, our bodies say, "I'm not taking another step. I think I'll just lie down right here."
On a more serious note, one of these days when my body says it's going to lie down right here, it won't get up again. It'll be the final curtain call. I still don't know quite what I think about that, but I continue to become more and more enamored with the idea that there is a better life ahead where the bugs not only don't win, they don't even exist. My uncle signs off his blogs with "Pilgrim on the way." He may or may not be closer to wherever "on the way" takes him, but I know we both agree that what is there is so much better than what is here....
Thursday, January 01, 2009
The Present Tense
Just as it has for eons past, the new year really doesn’t look any different from the old. One must get used to the idea of rolling the calendar year number to the next digit upwards, and must get used to the idea of yet another year falling away, but that’s all a mental exercise, and not an observation of nature.
Nature, it seems, regards this day as any other. “This is the day the Lord has made.” The emphasis, it seems, is in the here and now. The past is for learning and experience. The future has not yet taken place. Here and now is the time that is of importance.
Recently, I’ve begun to think of the verse of Christian scripture quoted above in a little different light from what I’ve normally thought. What if God continually “unfolds” the present tense to each one of us on a continuous basis? What if God continuously creates a unique present tense for each one of His created beings? What if we can somehow visualize God unfolding or unrolling the present tense before us in real time in an act of supreme and loving continuous creation and renewal?
That notion kind of changes things, at least for me. Gone are the notions that God created everything (or didn’t create at all) and now just sits back and watches what happens. Done is the idea that God doesn’t care about the mundane and routine of my life. Finished is the concept of God taking a hands-off attitude toward His creation.
Now I can better understand passages such as John 5:17 where Jesus says that His Father is working “even unto now”. I can better grasp the idea that God intervenes in the lives of man, and that He causes “all things to work together for the good (Romans 8:28). And it is more comforting to me now when I read that the very hairs of my head are numbered, and that “He cares for” me (I Peter 5:7).
I don’t know if that concept (where God creates and unfolds a unique present tense for each of us) is valid or not. However, I choose to believe it now because of what it does for my faith and because of how that concept brings to life passages of Christian scripture that heretofore have been somewhat muddled and unclear. So when and if you hear me say something about God “unfolding the present tense,” you’ll have an idea what I’m saying and why. And if it helps you in any way, so much the better.
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