The Golden Age

I was watching some old TV this afternoon. The Andy Griffith Show has been in re-run status virtually continuously since it ceased production. Most of the actors are long since gone, except for Mr. Griffith, Ron Howard and perhaps one or two others. Many of us know the plot, the lines and the outcome of each episode, yet we stay with the channel the show is on and watch it yet again.
I’ve wondered why it is that shows such as the Andy Griffith Show, M.A.S.H., and others are such icons and are watched virtually continuously for decades at a time. Lawrence Welk is in re-runs on PBS and you can certainly think of other shows that are on cable much of the time. I’ve further wondered why we continue to watch such shows, even knowing the lines, plot, and outcome.
I confess I don’t know the answer. I suspect that, at least in part, there is nothing of substance on any of the other dozens of channels that are available and we go to these old shows in part because of that. I think also that part of the reason may indeed be their familiarity, and a connection we may have with those older shows.
I don’t often see a snipped of a Gunsmoke episode but what I don’t think of Saturday night at the home place. Dad in his recliner, Mom ironing or working with some kind of knitting, and the siblings either watching with us or doing something somewhere in the house. The television is black and white, no more than 21 inches diagonal measurement, and there is no remote control. Yes, I know color television and remote control existed then, but we didn’t have them.
One of the kids generally served as the remote control. There were but four channels available, and we kids knew what shows the adults wanted to watch and what times they came on. We did have to know how to occasionally adjust the fine-tuning and less frequently the vertical or horizontal hold. Such controls were usually behind a little door that was on the front of the set and included brightness, contrast, and sometimes focus and one or two other picture controls.
Sometimes we had to jiggle the channel knob in order to get a good picture. That usually meant that the tuner was dirty and the repair man would have to come and clean it. Of course, we didn’t call him until it got so bad we couldn’t stand it.
Sometimes, no matter what we did, we couldn’t get the vertical or horizontal to stay in “hold”. Or perhaps the picture gradually got shorter or narrower. Such problems could be adjusted at times with knobs on the back of the set, but more often they were harbingers of the repair man coming again, taking off the set back, and replacing one or more tubes that had gotten weak. Less often, but always a possibility, the repair man sometimes had to take the set “into the shop” for major repairs. In that case, it would be gone for several days while he ordered parts or fixed the sets that came in before ours.
The repair man would bring the set back just in time, it seemed, for a favorite show. Rejuvenated, the television would once again be the magic box that pulled pictures out of the ether and entertained us for awhile. Matt, Andy, Lawrence, Little Joe, and others would take us to another place and another time, enabling us to forget, for a time, that we had our own problems to deal with.
And maybe that’s it. Maybe these old shows continue to take us to that other time and place even though we know them by heart. Maybe they do that job in a way that the modern comedies, the reality shows, and the cooking or golf channel just can’t do. Maybe, just maybe, television was in its golden age.

An Assignment

Earlier this week I received a post card in the mail. Our church office sent it, asking me to participate in the services tomorrow by saying some words before we take up our “Gifts of Gratitude” (AKA the collection or offering). Also on the card is the theme for the day and a scripture reference. The theme happens to be “Gratitude That Costs Something”. The reference is Colossians 3 where Paul says that whatever we do, we are to do it in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.
I never quite know how to approach things like this. Although a sermon isn’t in order here, they do expect me to take a moment or two and give some thoughts about what is happening. As I think about my assignment, I find myself looking inward at my own views regarding giving, gratitude, and thanksgiving.
The card also says that, “An expression of gratitude should bring about a difference in the way we live and the things we value.” I don’t know about you, but I have a hard time thinking back to a time when gratitude made a difference in the way I live. Maybe I don’t know what I’m looking for, or maybe, just maybe I am not as grateful as I sometimes seem to be. Oh I know that one expression of gratitude probably will not cause any kind of an “Aha” moment, but one would think that there would be something in the past which, if I was as grateful as I thought I was, would kind of stand out. Or maybe my life has been more a continual expression of gratitude than I think it has, and it’s sort-of ingrained and “normal” now.
By the way, just what is an “expression of gratitude”? Is it giving into the collection plate at church? Is it helping the homeless in some way? Is it volunteering at the school? Or is it possibly sending money to a missionary or mission? Could it be as simple as saying, “I am grateful?” Or is there more to it than these things? Is expressing gratitude something we do in a compartmentalized day, or is it something we are continually as we go about the day’s activities and routines?
And as for the things that I value, I really haven’t given a lot of thought to that lately. What is it that I truly value? I can tell you now that as I think about that, nothing much of a material nature comes to mind. Our house? We’ve lived in 14 different houses in our married life. It doesn’t mean that much to me. Our transportation? Give me a break. Other things? Nothing much there that really comes out and bites me. It’s all old, utilitarian, or not worth much.
So what do I value? (In no particular order) The ability to see and enjoy God’s creation. My family. My life partner. The peace and satisfaction that come from being a child of God. My church family. Employment. My role as the hands and feet of Jesus.
As I look on the above paragraphs, I realize that this topic can be much more complicated than it might first appear. But I also see a simplicity in that it seems that God is calling us to a life that if lived as He would desire, would be one where the normal and routine of life and living would continually reflect our gratitude and thanksgiving. That routine of life and living would also encompass the list, so to speak, of those things we value most, with perhaps the most revealing aspect of that list being what is NOT on it.
So, are you grateful? Do you express that gratitude in some tangible way? Is gratitude a part of who you are, or is it something you set aside time in the day to do? What is it that you value? How does what you value differ from what you think Mary or Paul or Timothy would value? I’m looking forward to the day tomorrow.

Thanksgiving

Today is the day before Thanksgiving. It’s a time to remember the blessings that have come our way and in a greater sense, be a conduit of blessing to others.
Even during holidays, life happens. Today, Jack, a resident at our nursing home, breathed his last. Jack was someone that I would sit with and have coffee and conversation sometimes in the mornings. I don’t know his family. I didn’t know him until he came into the home. This Thanksgiving, Jack’s family is having to deal with everything that comes with the death of a loved one.
I’ve seen death many, many times in my health care career. Witnessing those deaths lessens not the impact of what I see and quenches not the thoughts, questions, and introspection as yet another of God’s creation begins the final part of the final journey.
So this evening is kind of melancholy for me. I seem to take these things with a little more emotion than some and greatly appreciate my having a role in Jack’s care during his last months of life. We aren’t perfect at the home and we don’t provide perfect care. But I think we do care and care greatly.
The holiday will come tomorrow. We will gather with family tomorrow. We will also gather again over the weekend with other family. It will be a time of bonding, thanksgiving, and relaxation. This year, there will also be some introspection.
Have a good holiday.

A Wonderful Journey

Our church is taking a wonderful journey that all too often is not part of the life of other congregations of whatever denominational stripe. We have, for the past several years, been led in a concerted effort to enable us to see beyond the walls of our building and understand and fill the need that is “out there” for the hands and feet of Jesus.
I don’t know what church staff thinks (one of two of them read this blog), but I am seeing a quickening, a coming-alive, a revitalization of the organism of which I am a part. I am, somewhat reluctantly at times, also becoming more revitalized and am thoroughly enjoying witnessing the awakening in others and in the congregation as a whole (which is, I believe, greater than the sum of its parts).
It’s a little scary at times and unsettling at other times. We don’t know exactly where we are going and can only see ahead dimly. Yet we are taking the plunge and many of us, perhaps for the first time in our lives, are trusting God for guidance as we have never done before.
Our trip is multi-faceted. We have re-examined our participation in various missions efforts and outreaches and have made some modifications. We are working toward a church plant in a nearby neighborhood. We are receiving teaching and instruction that is pertinent, clear, and appropriate. We are working with several different efforts, both individually and collectively, in our neighborhood to make our part of Wichita a better place. And we are working toward a financial goal over the next three years that will enable us to carry out many of those things we see need for.
I’ve never been part of anything like this before. I may never be again. I am savoring the moment.

A Kitty or a Truck

Lately, I’ve found myself with a kind of unusual problem. There’s been really nothing in the last week or more that has piqued my interest to the point that I thought I might like to write about it. Oh, there have been a lot of things happen, and I’ve seen a lot, but nothing that sort of jumps out there and says, “Write about me.”
That changed this evening on the way back from the “Y”. I was thinking about my sister’s birthday coming up tomorrow (the big 5-5) and was thinking about something she said when she was very small.
It seems that at a very young age (I don’t know, 3 maybe, or 4) Sis was asked what she wanted to be when she grew up. She replied, “A kitty or a truck.” And I think now that both of those fit her personality very well.
Now, you may not understand how those two ideas could possibly be in the same personality, but trust me, they can be and they are. She can be at once a very boisterous and noisy person, letting everyone know that she is in the area, and at the same time demonstrate a love and tenderness toward others that would bring many people to tears. The room's dynamics and liveliness pick up by a factor of 10 or so when she enters and doesn't quiet down until she leaves. Yet I don't know anyone who has a more tender and soft heart for life and living.
She ready to relate her opinion on things and in her “rut” in many ways, yet is willing to change her life if it will benefit some other living creature (Lydia readily comes to mind). Her days are planned, yet seldom are those plans intact shortly after her day begins. She’s a great cook and would, I believe, cook for the whole neighborhood if there was a need there that she thought she could fill. And she’d do it regardless of what else she had planned for that day, preferring to serve others and juggle her schedule for the umpteenth time to make room for that service.
Yep. I think she’s fulfilled her childhood desires. She can be a truck at times, but is at her best as a kitty. I just hope Lydia doesn’t figure that out (grin).

The Holidays

The holidays are approaching with all of the noise and clatter of a freight train. If advertisements on TV and in the Sunday newspapers are any indication, this year promises to be one in which commercial interests spare no expense and hold back no tactic to separate us from our money.
That’s the part of the season that I don’t like.
If one looks beneath the surface, however, there is a part of the season that I and many others do like. This is the part where families come together and renew ties, carry on traditions, and welcome new members. This is the part of the season that holds interest for me and is by far, I think, the more important.
Yes, I know that some families can’t get along when they come together. And I also know that for some families, seeing other family members only brings out memories that are less than pleasant. It is also true that many families cannot be together due to separation, either forced or voluntary, and the holidays just aren’t the same because of it.
Sometimes family gatherings are an exercise in high-level diplomacy as hosts have to determine whether to invite this ex spouse or that estranged child or some other relative who has or causes issues and problems for others.
The intact family, free of divorce, abuse, drug use (including alcoholism), or feuding is increasingly rare and is no longer the norm. The holidays, while for many are a time of joy, are for many more a time of trial and tribulation, of tempest and tumult, of turmoil and turbulence.
It takes work to keep family gatherings peaceful and fun. It takes work to make family gatherings something to long for instead of dread. All who gather play a part and all who gather are responsible for their actions and attitudes.
Leave the political and religious discussions at home. Leave the booze at home. And leave your hyped-up ego, your bluster, your anger, your payback schemes, and your gossip at home. Just enjoy yourself and work diligently to make it so others have the opportunity to do the same.
Above all, remember why these two holidays exist. Even if you aren’t religious, you can be thankful for what you have and you can enjoy the spirit of giving. You can get out of yourself for just a few minutes and think about others. And you can enjoy this time as it was meant to be enjoyed.

Attutudes

I was driving north on Maize Road a few days ago during the day. Traffic was moderate, but wasn’t really heavy. Most folks were going the speed limit or a little over (which is normal). I try to go just about the speed limit, although there may be times when I need to go a little faster or slower depending on traffic.
I pulled onto Maize Road in the 600 block south. I was going north to Central, then right. That meant I had about a mile and a half to drive on Maize Road. Almost as soon as I pulled out, I noticed in my mirror that someone was changing lanes to go around me on the right (I pulled into the left lane, having made a left turn onto Maize Road, as the law says). I normally try to go into the right lane rather quickly, but did not because of this person who was, it seems driving rather fast.
The traffic was heavy enough so he had a hard time going as fast as he wanted to go. As I drove that mile and a half, I counted him changing lanes at least nine times (I may have lost count briefly) as he tried to speed around others going about the speed limit. Of course, anyone knows that a lane change (or any action such as a turn or entering an intersection) makes one more vulnerable to an accident. This man made himself more vulnerable at least nine times in about three minutes.
The light was green at Maple, but had turned red at the Central and Maize intersection. As I pulled to a stop behind several vehicles, I saw this man sitting at the same light as I was, about one hundred feet ahead of me. I thought, “Gee, it really must have been worth all the frustration, lane changes, and increased danger in order to gain a hundred feet.”
Isn’t life like that? We hurry, worry, fret, fume, and fuss over things that, had we just calmed down and worked with them in an “adult” manner, the outcome would have been either the same or better. We lose sleep, we’re apprehensive and nervous, and we suffer gastro-intestinal ailments because we can’t control ourselves. We also make ourselves and others more vulnerable to bad things happening by some of the things we do and say in such times.
There’s something to be said for calm, peace, and a relaxed demeanor. Try it.

Farmers Oil Co.

It happens often enough on trips we take in our car that we talk about it some when it happens. I’m sure it doesn’t happen every trip, but it comes about often enough that we kind of look out for it now.
What is it? This may sound a little strange, but we seem to invariably come across a Farmers Oil Co. truck on the road at some point in our trip somewhere. Now, you may not think much of this, or think that this is kind of crazy, but it’s true. You see, we are from the area where Farmers Oil Co. is located (Anthony, Kansas) and their trucks are somewhat unique-looking.
We’ve seen those trucks on trips to Michigan, Kansas City, Hays, Branson, and many other places. We see them in places we wouldn’t think we’d see them. We usually don’t see them more than once a trip. And we usually see them within 400 or so miles from Anthony (although not always).
Its become a kind of a game with me, not that I expend every ounce of energy to find one. Sometimes I see them on short trips to Central Kansas, but most often our destination is a hundred or more miles from Wichita in order for us to be on the road long enough to see one.
I see by a web page (not theirs) that they have twenty-some trucks and about twice as many trailers. They haul primarily petroleum products, as their name implies.
Why this has become a kind of a thing with us, I don’t know. I do know that I’ve been seeing them for many years on the road, and have been kind of looking for them as a kind of a game for several years. It helps break the tedium of Interstate highway travel and brings us back to earth, so to speak. I know that all is well if I see a Farmers Oil truck as I drive down the road.

The State of Our Country

Today I made a comment on Facebook about the vote on health insurance reform. The initial Facebook writer was against the reform bill now being considered. I believe she said that today was “doomsday”, I assume in part because the bill is expected to pass the House of Representatives.
My comment was that people said the same things (doomsday) when the Voting Rights Act was voted on, when Social Security was voted on, the Civil Rights Act was voted on, etc. Her reply was to look at the state of our country today.
OK, let’s look at the state of the country. What would we be like if there was no Voting Rights Act, no Civil Rights Act, no Medicare, no Medicaid, no Food Stamp program, and no Social Security?
Can you imagine a nation where whole peoples would en masse be denied the right to vote based on the color of their skin, their nationality, or their religion? Can you further imagine lynchings, beatings, colored only restaurants, drinking fountains and seating at certain events, with other venues being off limits entirely? Can you imagine whole populations being tortured and killed because of their religious beliefs? Can you imagine people still dying shortly after age 65 because there is no health insurance for them (and private companies won’t insure them)? Can you imagine people who need kidney dialysis dying instead living productive lives because there is no one who will pay for the procedure?
Children who desperately need health and dental procedures would suffer and die instead because there is no Medicaid, no SCHIP program, and no safety net. These same children, and others like them would starve or be severely malnourished because there is no school lunch and breakfast program and no food stamps. Most of all, seniors would live for awhile in poverty and squalor only to die even at an earlier age because there is no Social Security safety net floor for them. And those who are disabled at whatever age would not have disability income protection because there would be no Social Security system to support them. Nor would they have health and rehabilitation care because there is no money for them.
Yes, I can imagine all of this. I’ve seen parts of it because I vividly remember times before the Voting Rights Act, the Civil Rights Act, and Medicare and Medicaid. I remember times before the school lunch program, before SCHIP, and before Medicare covered kidney dialysis for those who couldn’t pay for it. We suffered much, died much too early, and horrendously treated those who were different than we.
The programs aren’t perfect. People take advantage of them when they aren’t qualified. They are many times politically driven. And there have been some bad decisions made by those who should have known better.
They also have extended life expectancy, created awareness that we’re all God’s children, saved lives and health, provided safety nets that no private or charitable organizations could have provided, and have helped to fulfill the constitutional obligation of government to “promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty for ourselves and our posterity.”
It is easy, when we are a part of the white protestant Anglo culture, healthy and relatively happy, not in need or want of basic necessities, to look upon those who are not such as we and who need help in some way with an attitude that is less than accommodating and helpful. We feign an air of superiority and a thankfulness that we are not “like them”. We take pride in the fact that we’ve never been on food stamps or in the free school lunch program. And we say that we’ll never use Social Security because by the time we get to retirement, it won’t be there anyway.
I’ve been on the other side. I’ve been homeless. I’ve been without a job or health insurance. I’ve been on food stamps. I’m thrilled they were there for me and my family, and that I can help others now through not only government programs, but programs through our church and other organizations.
Because I am white Anglo, I have not been on the receiving end of a beating or lynching because of the color of my skin. Nor has any of my family. I can never say fully that I understand because I’ve not been there. I have read the book “Black Like Me” by John Howard Griffin. It is, I think, a must-read for anyone who didn’t live in that time or experience racial discrimination.
Yes, I can look at where we are as a nation and a people since the passage of many of these laws, which was fought tooth and nail by those who would maintain the status quo and continue in the illusion that all was right with the world (at least their Anglo world). Thank God there were some who were brave and bold enough to jolt the rest of us out of our holes and into the real world.
I don’t know if the health care reform bill is good for our nation or not. I do know that what we have just isn’t working for many people, and that alternatives to the current reform bill are nothing more than patches and more status quo. I guess we’ll just have to see what the state of our country is after the vote.

Memories of the Dark

When our older son was small, he had a kind of fascination with the process of sundown and the evening sky. He divided the sundown process into three pieces and named each piece.
The first was the “blue dark”. This was the time after sundown, but while the western sky was still basically blue in color. The second phase he named the “purple dark”. As you can imagine, this was the darker phase where the sky generally turns a reddish purple and it becomes somewhat difficult to see clearly. The last stage was “black dark”. This was the time when night fell.
As we drove to Sterling this evening, I was able to witness all three phases of the sundown process and recalled with some fondness the times past and gone when we would talk about the blue dark, purple dark, and black dark. The sky was especially pretty tonight with a few rather wispy clouds in the western sky and a change in colors from minute to minute.
There are many things that happen now which remind me of some time or some event past and gone. This is but one. Thankfully, we tend to recall the good things more than the bad. Happy memories.

A Little Different

This blog is a little different. But I think you need to know this. You may have heard the story; how a deputy jailer in Florida was attacked by an inmate. If so, you also heard that there were other inmates that came to his aid...not the attacking inmate, but the jailer.
Good for them. Good for them.
Even when it seems that there is no redeeming value in an individual, and even when we have judged someone by virtue of what they have done or where they are living, we find that we are many times so incorrect. Just as the Good Book says, we dare not judge others, lest we be judged with the same judgment.
If you like, you can see the newspaper account of this incident at http://www2.tbo.com/content/2009/nov/05/na-inmates-aid-deputy-under-attack/