I was visiting with one of our residents early this morning (well, early for me…about 8am) as he was sitting at the breakfast table. He took off his glasses, blew on them, and put them back on. Now, I’ve done that more than once, and I’ll wager that you have too, just to get the big chunks off of them. The fine cleaning would come later. I mentioned to him that I did that sometimes as well, and he said to me, “You gotta breathe in and out; you might as well do something productive with it.”
This man has mild dementia and cannot live on his own. However, what he said was well worth it and was right on. Of course, he was talking about blowing on his glasses. I immediately thought of some other things.
You might as well do something productive. Why do we waste our time and energy on things that don’t matter?
You might as well do something productive. Why do we do or say things that we know are harmful to ourselves or others?
You might as well do something productive. Why do we complain about things that we can’t change?
You might as well do something productive. Is there any way we can leave our corner of the world better for our having been here?
You might as well do something productive. How can we serve those we know have need?
You might as well do something productive. Can you be an example of honesty, integrity, and truthfulness rather than selfishness, greed, and vice?
You might as well do something productive. What would it take for us to mentor a child, volunteer at the school, or be a special friend to a neighbor?
If you’re reading this, you’re breathing in and out. What have you done with those breaths that has been productive today?
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Pickups and Carloads
Yesterday, I helped my niece move from her rented apartment to a home that she and her fiancé had bought just the day before. She will be living there and preparing the house to be a home until later this spring when they will be married. (How refreshing to see them living together AFTER they are married instead of before.) She has quite a task ahead of her, even though the house is fairly new and won’t need much painting, fixing, etc.
There are drapes to hang, a yard to work, furniture to buy (and move), things to hang on the wall, and the usual assortment of little “fixes” that are inevitable when someone moves into a new home. She and her fiancé will be busy these next few months.
It took three pickups and a couple of carloads to move everything she had out of the apartment and to the house, which is just a couple of blocks up the street in the same addition where we are living. Obviously, they will accumulate more “stuff” as time goes by, but I’m hopeful they will be mindful of a couple of things; where their stuff ultimately comes from, and just how much of it they are accumulating through the years.
Life does not consist of our possessions, says the Good Book. There’s a lot more to this than who has the most toys when he dies. After all, if that’s it, what’s the use?
We have a lot to learn about possessions and things. All too often, we define and identify ourselves by our possessions. Surely, there is much more to a living, breathing human being than what car he drives or what brand jeans she wears.
These kids have, if all is normal, a long life ahead of them. There will be plenty of time for possessions. Far more important will be the fostering and flowering of the relationship and the development of a solid foundation for a committed life together as husband and wife.
Godspeed.
There are drapes to hang, a yard to work, furniture to buy (and move), things to hang on the wall, and the usual assortment of little “fixes” that are inevitable when someone moves into a new home. She and her fiancé will be busy these next few months.
It took three pickups and a couple of carloads to move everything she had out of the apartment and to the house, which is just a couple of blocks up the street in the same addition where we are living. Obviously, they will accumulate more “stuff” as time goes by, but I’m hopeful they will be mindful of a couple of things; where their stuff ultimately comes from, and just how much of it they are accumulating through the years.
Life does not consist of our possessions, says the Good Book. There’s a lot more to this than who has the most toys when he dies. After all, if that’s it, what’s the use?
We have a lot to learn about possessions and things. All too often, we define and identify ourselves by our possessions. Surely, there is much more to a living, breathing human being than what car he drives or what brand jeans she wears.
These kids have, if all is normal, a long life ahead of them. There will be plenty of time for possessions. Far more important will be the fostering and flowering of the relationship and the development of a solid foundation for a committed life together as husband and wife.
Godspeed.
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Responsibility
I was laying awake last night at about 4am (I don’t know the exact time…I didn’t want to know), and was thinking about the word “responsibility”. Don’t ask me why, I just was. In any event, I was thinking about that word, along with what it means, and what kinds of responsibilities I had in various aspects of my life.
I can easily understand why some people get so upset about the responsibilities of life that they become virtually paralyzed and cannot function in ordinary situations such as work, home life, and living. It can be a daunting thing to think of all of those people and situations who are dependent in some way or another on someone to do a job or carry out a task.
In the light of day as we go about our daily tasks, the burden seems somehow lessened. We manage to do at least most of what we are responsible for doing, and what doesn’t ge done waits until another day or really didn’t need to be done at all. But at times when it is quiet and we are alone with our thoughts, they can quickly loom ever larger until they just seem to overwhelm the senses.
I am reminded of Paul’s statement that he had learned the secret of contentment. Whatever the situation he found himself in, he said, he learned to be content with it. I would imagine that if anyone had responsibilities that seemed to overwhelm, it may have been him. Carried into situations not of his making and which altered his plans for the future in big ways, Paul learned to rely on a Higher Power and be content with wherever he found himself.
I know that I need to emulate Paul and others that have managed to find the secret of contentment and peace, even in the midst of chaos and disorder. I have a difficult time with that, and know that I would have a much easier time of life in general if I wasn’t so worried about getting this done or fulfilling that responsibility in a timely manner. Yes, we as Christians are to be diligent to live our lives “as unto the Lord” and so we must do the best we can. But to worry excessively about something or to allow external forces to take away our happiness, contentment, and peace is not appropriate and has no place in the life of the Christian.
I also know that for some people, the problem of excessive worry goes beyond what can reasonably be accommodated, and professional help may be needed. If so, there should be no stigma attached to that need; rather, we support and encourage our fellow Christian as best we know how and “bear one-another’s burden.”
Most of us don’t have the worry of where we will get our next meal, or where we will stay the night. Instead, our worries are more along the lines of paying bills, keeping promises, and attending to looming future events. We have moved away from worry about survival to worry about things not as important. The fallout of that worry, however, does not change. We can still be paralyzed by excessive worry, and that worry can rob us of the peace and contentment promised by our God.
There are no easy fixes. There is nothing I know of that will change this in five minutes or less. I know it is a learning process. And I know that true peace and contentment are gifts and blessings from God. I know that it involves one giving up the right to control one’s destiny and allowing God to take charge. I know that it is a daily decision that becomes a daily way of life.
And that, my friend, is not easy.
I can easily understand why some people get so upset about the responsibilities of life that they become virtually paralyzed and cannot function in ordinary situations such as work, home life, and living. It can be a daunting thing to think of all of those people and situations who are dependent in some way or another on someone to do a job or carry out a task.
In the light of day as we go about our daily tasks, the burden seems somehow lessened. We manage to do at least most of what we are responsible for doing, and what doesn’t ge done waits until another day or really didn’t need to be done at all. But at times when it is quiet and we are alone with our thoughts, they can quickly loom ever larger until they just seem to overwhelm the senses.
I am reminded of Paul’s statement that he had learned the secret of contentment. Whatever the situation he found himself in, he said, he learned to be content with it. I would imagine that if anyone had responsibilities that seemed to overwhelm, it may have been him. Carried into situations not of his making and which altered his plans for the future in big ways, Paul learned to rely on a Higher Power and be content with wherever he found himself.
I know that I need to emulate Paul and others that have managed to find the secret of contentment and peace, even in the midst of chaos and disorder. I have a difficult time with that, and know that I would have a much easier time of life in general if I wasn’t so worried about getting this done or fulfilling that responsibility in a timely manner. Yes, we as Christians are to be diligent to live our lives “as unto the Lord” and so we must do the best we can. But to worry excessively about something or to allow external forces to take away our happiness, contentment, and peace is not appropriate and has no place in the life of the Christian.
I also know that for some people, the problem of excessive worry goes beyond what can reasonably be accommodated, and professional help may be needed. If so, there should be no stigma attached to that need; rather, we support and encourage our fellow Christian as best we know how and “bear one-another’s burden.”
Most of us don’t have the worry of where we will get our next meal, or where we will stay the night. Instead, our worries are more along the lines of paying bills, keeping promises, and attending to looming future events. We have moved away from worry about survival to worry about things not as important. The fallout of that worry, however, does not change. We can still be paralyzed by excessive worry, and that worry can rob us of the peace and contentment promised by our God.
There are no easy fixes. There is nothing I know of that will change this in five minutes or less. I know it is a learning process. And I know that true peace and contentment are gifts and blessings from God. I know that it involves one giving up the right to control one’s destiny and allowing God to take charge. I know that it is a daily decision that becomes a daily way of life.
And that, my friend, is not easy.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Preparation and Prayer
I’m teaching an adult class this quarter (beginning tomorrow) on Exodus. When I was asked to teach it, I thought to myself, “That’s 40 chapters in 12 weeks in an Old Testament book that many people see as rather dry history.” Accepting the challenge after a day or two of thought, I now face the challenge of making this class something like our education minister had in mind for it.
Of course, we will need to do kind of an overview thing this quarter. There’s no way we can discuss each verse, or even each event, story, or section of the book. I’ll have to find the highlights, and for that I’ll need some kind of guidance to land on those places that I think will make the most relevant sense for us today.
In thinking about that, I was taken back to many years ago when I did a series of sermons on Joshua. I took much of my information from a book written by Dale Ralph Davis called “No Falling Words”. In the book, he zeroes in on God’s promises and how those promises were kept. Joshua, in his farewell address to the people in chapter 23 said that “Not one word of all the good words of Jehovah have fallen to the ground.” Of course, he meant that God has kept each and every promise that he gave to the nation of Israel.
Although the first promise to Israel was given to Abraham in Genesis 12, the fulfillment of that promise, and many others, in many ways begins as Exodus opens with the story of the calling of Moses and Aaron. I think it will be quite good to prepare the upcoming lessons based on the idea of “No Falling Words” and what that means for God’s people today.
I have all 12 lessons (we won’t meet for class Easter Sunday) outlined, and the introduction to the first lesson done. I’ll prepare the rest of tomorrow’s lesson later on today. We’ll look at the first three chapters of the book.
I enjoy teaching, as it gives me fresh eyes to look at something I perhaps have looked at many times before. I don’t pretend that I will cause any earth shattering changes in the lives of my students, but I do encourage them to think for themselves, to examine what they’ve always thought about God and their relationship with Him, and to go from class a little more refreshed than when they came into class. I am also acutely aware that as a teacher, I will be held to a greater account (according to James in 3:1).
Tomorrow should be interesting just in seeing who will be coming to this class. I doubt that I will have a house full, but hope that there will be enough that we can have good discussions. I would ask you to wish me luck, but suspect that preparation and prayer have much more to do with it than luck. So as I prepare and pray, if you’ll pray with me, perhaps the favor of the Lord will shine.
Of course, we will need to do kind of an overview thing this quarter. There’s no way we can discuss each verse, or even each event, story, or section of the book. I’ll have to find the highlights, and for that I’ll need some kind of guidance to land on those places that I think will make the most relevant sense for us today.
In thinking about that, I was taken back to many years ago when I did a series of sermons on Joshua. I took much of my information from a book written by Dale Ralph Davis called “No Falling Words”. In the book, he zeroes in on God’s promises and how those promises were kept. Joshua, in his farewell address to the people in chapter 23 said that “Not one word of all the good words of Jehovah have fallen to the ground.” Of course, he meant that God has kept each and every promise that he gave to the nation of Israel.
Although the first promise to Israel was given to Abraham in Genesis 12, the fulfillment of that promise, and many others, in many ways begins as Exodus opens with the story of the calling of Moses and Aaron. I think it will be quite good to prepare the upcoming lessons based on the idea of “No Falling Words” and what that means for God’s people today.
I have all 12 lessons (we won’t meet for class Easter Sunday) outlined, and the introduction to the first lesson done. I’ll prepare the rest of tomorrow’s lesson later on today. We’ll look at the first three chapters of the book.
I enjoy teaching, as it gives me fresh eyes to look at something I perhaps have looked at many times before. I don’t pretend that I will cause any earth shattering changes in the lives of my students, but I do encourage them to think for themselves, to examine what they’ve always thought about God and their relationship with Him, and to go from class a little more refreshed than when they came into class. I am also acutely aware that as a teacher, I will be held to a greater account (according to James in 3:1).
Tomorrow should be interesting just in seeing who will be coming to this class. I doubt that I will have a house full, but hope that there will be enough that we can have good discussions. I would ask you to wish me luck, but suspect that preparation and prayer have much more to do with it than luck. So as I prepare and pray, if you’ll pray with me, perhaps the favor of the Lord will shine.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Enjoy the Spring
The last couple of days have been, weather-wise, just wonderful. Compared to the weeks and weeks that preceded, these days are a gift to be savored. It’s a little early to say that winter is over, but it is March after all, and things are warming up.
A couple of days ago, the neighbor kids were out on the driveway shooting baskets…in bare feet. Deer have come back to the park out back of our house, and we’re beginning to see a few more varieties of birds. The tulips are peeking through, and people are beginning to stir around, get things cleaned up, and prepare for the summer ahead.
I like all four seasons, but I think spring is my favorite. It’s a time for renewal and growth; of promise and expectation. The sometimes stifling heat of summer seems to suck some of that promise and expectation out of my system at times, but that’s to be expected in this part of the world.
It’s been a rather cold and dreary winter, this one has. All winters seem that way at times, but this one seems to have hung on longer than in recent past years. When the gray, foggy days just go on and on, people begin to get a little nervous. Folks have shorter tempers, and it just seems that it will never end. But it does, of course.
I hope you’re looking forward to spring as well. It’s a great time of the year. Stop and take the time to enjoy it.
A couple of days ago, the neighbor kids were out on the driveway shooting baskets…in bare feet. Deer have come back to the park out back of our house, and we’re beginning to see a few more varieties of birds. The tulips are peeking through, and people are beginning to stir around, get things cleaned up, and prepare for the summer ahead.
I like all four seasons, but I think spring is my favorite. It’s a time for renewal and growth; of promise and expectation. The sometimes stifling heat of summer seems to suck some of that promise and expectation out of my system at times, but that’s to be expected in this part of the world.
It’s been a rather cold and dreary winter, this one has. All winters seem that way at times, but this one seems to have hung on longer than in recent past years. When the gray, foggy days just go on and on, people begin to get a little nervous. Folks have shorter tempers, and it just seems that it will never end. But it does, of course.
I hope you’re looking forward to spring as well. It’s a great time of the year. Stop and take the time to enjoy it.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Always a Possibility
Today was just a lost day, it seems, for me. I was just wasted today and didn’t feel at all well. No bugs or illness…I think it was a mild exhaustion that overtook me today. Not sure why because I seem to sleep well, and long enough. I got home a little early today and promptly took a 45 minute nap, which helped immensely. I wish I could have done that about 10am this morning.
You know the kind of day. You have to work extremely hard, it seems, to put one foot in front of the other. Your brain isn’t working as well as it should. And you’re just not really into anything you do. Caffeine doesn’t help a lot. You can’t wait to be done.
And that is kind of sad because this was the prettiest day outside. One of the best. Tomorrow promises to be as good, however, so I am looking forward to that. We’ve had lots of winter, but not nearly like they’ve had in the Northeast.
Every Friday I look back over the week and think about what happened. I compare it with what I thought (or hoped) would happen five days before. It never seems to be anything close to what I thought it would be, even when I know some of what I have to do that week. I don’t know why I do this…maybe it’s one of those things that everyone does, but they just don’t talk much about it.
This weekend will be somewhat busy for us, but enjoyable. Unless, that is, things happen that disrupt our plans and routine. And that’s always a possibility.
You know the kind of day. You have to work extremely hard, it seems, to put one foot in front of the other. Your brain isn’t working as well as it should. And you’re just not really into anything you do. Caffeine doesn’t help a lot. You can’t wait to be done.
And that is kind of sad because this was the prettiest day outside. One of the best. Tomorrow promises to be as good, however, so I am looking forward to that. We’ve had lots of winter, but not nearly like they’ve had in the Northeast.
Every Friday I look back over the week and think about what happened. I compare it with what I thought (or hoped) would happen five days before. It never seems to be anything close to what I thought it would be, even when I know some of what I have to do that week. I don’t know why I do this…maybe it’s one of those things that everyone does, but they just don’t talk much about it.
This weekend will be somewhat busy for us, but enjoyable. Unless, that is, things happen that disrupt our plans and routine. And that’s always a possibility.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
This and That
I don’t know why some days just seem to take it out of me more than others. Yesterday and today were both like that. I don’t know if it was the amount of things I had to do, what those things were, or my physical or mental condition…maybe a combination of all of the above. In any event, I’m glad this day is almost over, and can pretty much guarantee you that I will be in bed by 10pm or shortly after.
In other thoughts, aren’t the Olympics something! I’ve watched them for many years now, and always enjoy most of the sports that are presented. Some, of course, I enjoy more than others. Do real men really watch figure skating? Yes, they do, and many of them enjoy it.
As time continues to march on, I am more and more convinced that what is here…what is in this life…this existence…doesn’t really matter all that much. It didn’t used to be this way, but now there is an overriding truth in all of my thinking that tells me to temper any decisions regarding the here and now with the reality of the eternity of which we partake as certainly as we exist.
I’ve agreed to teach an adult class this spring on the book of Exodus. I’ll have twelve Sundays to go through all of those chapters and help my class make sense of what is there. It certainly is a different way of teaching than I’m used to. I like to take things more slowly, but really, Exodus isn’t written in that way in very many places. So the survey approach probably will work better anyway.
There were about half a dozen crows in the peak of the bare cottonwood out back this morning. That tree is the tallest one around and the crows were at its peak, looking around, cawing some, and flying off a short way and back again. I came in and told my wife about it. She thought maybe they were discussing where to have breakfast. I dunno. Even though they are “just birds”, I like crows. I’ve heard, and have also thought, that they are probably one of the more intelligent animals we have around. You can read some of the work that has been done on that topic by Googling crow intelligence. Some of that is a rather interesting read.
It’s time to get back to the Olympics.
In other thoughts, aren’t the Olympics something! I’ve watched them for many years now, and always enjoy most of the sports that are presented. Some, of course, I enjoy more than others. Do real men really watch figure skating? Yes, they do, and many of them enjoy it.
As time continues to march on, I am more and more convinced that what is here…what is in this life…this existence…doesn’t really matter all that much. It didn’t used to be this way, but now there is an overriding truth in all of my thinking that tells me to temper any decisions regarding the here and now with the reality of the eternity of which we partake as certainly as we exist.
I’ve agreed to teach an adult class this spring on the book of Exodus. I’ll have twelve Sundays to go through all of those chapters and help my class make sense of what is there. It certainly is a different way of teaching than I’m used to. I like to take things more slowly, but really, Exodus isn’t written in that way in very many places. So the survey approach probably will work better anyway.
There were about half a dozen crows in the peak of the bare cottonwood out back this morning. That tree is the tallest one around and the crows were at its peak, looking around, cawing some, and flying off a short way and back again. I came in and told my wife about it. She thought maybe they were discussing where to have breakfast. I dunno. Even though they are “just birds”, I like crows. I’ve heard, and have also thought, that they are probably one of the more intelligent animals we have around. You can read some of the work that has been done on that topic by Googling crow intelligence. Some of that is a rather interesting read.
It’s time to get back to the Olympics.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
You Get What You Get
It’s been another cloudy, dreary day here with freezing rain and sleet falling sporadically. It seems to be melting when it hits the ground, so things aren’t slick. The official temp is 34 degrees, but probably will fall tonight.
We were out doing some errands this morning and had to drive to several locations. Most of the time, the drivers were pretty good, but we ran into (figuratively, of course) one or two that I kind of had to scratch my head (figuratively, of course) and wonder what in the world they were trying to do. One woman, it seemed, was making a “U” turn on East Douglas in the middle of traffic, holding up the works in several directions. One person (gender is known, but will not be given for fear of my being accused of being biased) sped up and passed me in the rain on I 235 only to get behind a truck after passing, slowing down, and making me go around her so I didn’t have to slow down. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, nor was I sure I wanted to know.
And so it goes, to borrow a phrase from Linda Ellerbee. All in all, our foray into the retail and public areas of Wichita went well, including our visit to Sam’s Club to buy a few things and cash our rebate check.
So it’s been a slow day, which probably is a good thing for us. We’re watching the Olympics, the KU basketball game, doing laundry, and otherwise just vegging around. I went out to the garage awhile ago, but didn’t stay even though there were things I needed to do, because it was cold enough there that it wouldn’t have been a very pleasant time. One of these days, I have to get out there and do some of the accumulating chores.
We’ll host our small group tomorrow evening, and of course we meet for church in the morning. The wife is on administrative nursing call this weekend, but hasn’t had much in the way of issues just yet. Let’s hope that dearth of problems continues through the weekend.
That’s it. Not much from here. I don’t feel like stretching my brain today to ponder the meaning of life or the origin of the species. You get what you get.
We were out doing some errands this morning and had to drive to several locations. Most of the time, the drivers were pretty good, but we ran into (figuratively, of course) one or two that I kind of had to scratch my head (figuratively, of course) and wonder what in the world they were trying to do. One woman, it seemed, was making a “U” turn on East Douglas in the middle of traffic, holding up the works in several directions. One person (gender is known, but will not be given for fear of my being accused of being biased) sped up and passed me in the rain on I 235 only to get behind a truck after passing, slowing down, and making me go around her so I didn’t have to slow down. I wasn’t sure what she was up to, nor was I sure I wanted to know.
And so it goes, to borrow a phrase from Linda Ellerbee. All in all, our foray into the retail and public areas of Wichita went well, including our visit to Sam’s Club to buy a few things and cash our rebate check.
So it’s been a slow day, which probably is a good thing for us. We’re watching the Olympics, the KU basketball game, doing laundry, and otherwise just vegging around. I went out to the garage awhile ago, but didn’t stay even though there were things I needed to do, because it was cold enough there that it wouldn’t have been a very pleasant time. One of these days, I have to get out there and do some of the accumulating chores.
We’ll host our small group tomorrow evening, and of course we meet for church in the morning. The wife is on administrative nursing call this weekend, but hasn’t had much in the way of issues just yet. Let’s hope that dearth of problems continues through the weekend.
That’s it. Not much from here. I don’t feel like stretching my brain today to ponder the meaning of life or the origin of the species. You get what you get.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Another Day
Today is Valentine’s Day. According to Wiki, the day is named for at least two Christian martyrs of early Christian times. The day was authorized by a Catholic pope in the fifth century, and currently is a time of celebration of love and affection between intimate companions. I assume most all of that is pretty close to authoritative.
We didn’t do much to celebrate the holiday. I never like to do much to celebrate any holiday, including birthdays, and today isn’t any different. We did go to a nice Italian restaurant for Sunday dinner. It wasn’t crowded or noisy, and the food was good. We also spent the afternoon with each other, as we normally do on weekends and went to see the grandkids and took pizza over to their place this evening along with Valentine cards and candy for the kids.
A couple of observations and comments please. First, my apologies to my wife for my reluctance to celebrate this or any holiday in the traditional way. I never was comfortable doing some of the traditional holiday things. She has known that for years, but somehow I feel the need to say it again.
I want her to know that in spite of her not getting flowers or chocolates today, I love her intensely, and cherish the time we are together, even if it’s just sitting in our easy chairs watching the Olympics. When she’s gone overnight, I don’t sleep well. I notice the empty space. Things just aren’t normal. When she’s not feeling well, I don’t feel well. Again, things just aren’t normal.
Second, it’s great to be a grandparent. Who else could take pizza and candy over to a couple of pre-schoolers, let them indulge in both, and then leave after a couple of hours and have someone else deal with the aftermath?
There’s also something about the unconditional love between grandparent and grandchild that is just different from anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s not the same as a parent/child relationship. In fact, it’s not the same as any other relationship. On this day especially, it’s a privilege to be reminded of the special bond between the grandkids and us.
I don’t know if my wife is disappointed in my lack of holiday skills or not. If she is, she doesn’t say anything about it. I am capable of a lot of things and, I suppose, could break down and get flowers on Valentine’s Day. I’d much rather, though, do something unexpected on a routine and regular day. To me, that seems more genuine than doing something on a certain day just because everyone else does it.
Tomorrow is another day.
We didn’t do much to celebrate the holiday. I never like to do much to celebrate any holiday, including birthdays, and today isn’t any different. We did go to a nice Italian restaurant for Sunday dinner. It wasn’t crowded or noisy, and the food was good. We also spent the afternoon with each other, as we normally do on weekends and went to see the grandkids and took pizza over to their place this evening along with Valentine cards and candy for the kids.
A couple of observations and comments please. First, my apologies to my wife for my reluctance to celebrate this or any holiday in the traditional way. I never was comfortable doing some of the traditional holiday things. She has known that for years, but somehow I feel the need to say it again.
I want her to know that in spite of her not getting flowers or chocolates today, I love her intensely, and cherish the time we are together, even if it’s just sitting in our easy chairs watching the Olympics. When she’s gone overnight, I don’t sleep well. I notice the empty space. Things just aren’t normal. When she’s not feeling well, I don’t feel well. Again, things just aren’t normal.
Second, it’s great to be a grandparent. Who else could take pizza and candy over to a couple of pre-schoolers, let them indulge in both, and then leave after a couple of hours and have someone else deal with the aftermath?
There’s also something about the unconditional love between grandparent and grandchild that is just different from anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s not the same as a parent/child relationship. In fact, it’s not the same as any other relationship. On this day especially, it’s a privilege to be reminded of the special bond between the grandkids and us.
I don’t know if my wife is disappointed in my lack of holiday skills or not. If she is, she doesn’t say anything about it. I am capable of a lot of things and, I suppose, could break down and get flowers on Valentine’s Day. I’d much rather, though, do something unexpected on a routine and regular day. To me, that seems more genuine than doing something on a certain day just because everyone else does it.
Tomorrow is another day.
Tuesday, February 09, 2010
Surprises Await
I’m reading a book called “Physics For the Rest of Us” by Roger S. Jones. Yes, it is what you think it may be, a book that attempts to explain modern physics in language and ways the ordinary person can understand. Although the author tried very hard to do this, he didn’t succeed, at least with me. There are places in the book that are relatively easy to understand, but there are places where it just isn’t possible to mush it all down into something that the ordinary person can swallow.
I am fascinated by modern physics…relativity, the quantum theory, the big bang, and all of that. Many of the things I do understand are just jaw-dropping. The world that we think we know of as such an orderly and predictable place is, in fact, a world of organized chaos, probability, and unthinkable truth. Imagine light slowing down inside a substance to a speed of a few inches a minute. Imagine a beam of light exiting a substance before it enters into it. Imagine a particle thousands of miles away reacting to the deliberate modification of it’s “partner” particle, with no apparent connection between the two. Imagine the fact that one can know either the movement of a particle or it’s location, but not both at the same time. Imagine something that behaves either like an electromagnetic wave or like a physical particle (commonly thought to be an impossibility due to the vastly different properties of each), depending not on anything it does, but rather depending on how it is observed. Imagine an electrical current that, once induced into it, traverses a metal for hundreds of thousands of years, yet never being replenished or decaying.
I could continue, but you get the idea. The book tries to explain the above phenomena, but I couldn’t understand it all. What I do understand, and what I take from the book is the incredible complexity of this creation.
That, friend, is a gross understatement, but it’s the best I can do. This creation is just astonishingly, amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly complex. For example, why is a crystalline substance either a conductor of electricity (metallic copper) or transparent (diamond); but not both. And how does the answer to that fit in with all the rest of the creation and enable everything else to work as it should? Yet it fits together and works perfectly; astonishingly, amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly well. We don’t know so much more than we do know, but what we do know is more than enough to be able to say that something truly unique is going on here…never in quintillions of years could all of this come together on its own.
I’m about three quarters finished with the book. Many more surprises await, I’m sure.
I am fascinated by modern physics…relativity, the quantum theory, the big bang, and all of that. Many of the things I do understand are just jaw-dropping. The world that we think we know of as such an orderly and predictable place is, in fact, a world of organized chaos, probability, and unthinkable truth. Imagine light slowing down inside a substance to a speed of a few inches a minute. Imagine a beam of light exiting a substance before it enters into it. Imagine a particle thousands of miles away reacting to the deliberate modification of it’s “partner” particle, with no apparent connection between the two. Imagine the fact that one can know either the movement of a particle or it’s location, but not both at the same time. Imagine something that behaves either like an electromagnetic wave or like a physical particle (commonly thought to be an impossibility due to the vastly different properties of each), depending not on anything it does, but rather depending on how it is observed. Imagine an electrical current that, once induced into it, traverses a metal for hundreds of thousands of years, yet never being replenished or decaying.
I could continue, but you get the idea. The book tries to explain the above phenomena, but I couldn’t understand it all. What I do understand, and what I take from the book is the incredible complexity of this creation.
That, friend, is a gross understatement, but it’s the best I can do. This creation is just astonishingly, amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly complex. For example, why is a crystalline substance either a conductor of electricity (metallic copper) or transparent (diamond); but not both. And how does the answer to that fit in with all the rest of the creation and enable everything else to work as it should? Yet it fits together and works perfectly; astonishingly, amazingly, unbelievably, incredibly well. We don’t know so much more than we do know, but what we do know is more than enough to be able to say that something truly unique is going on here…never in quintillions of years could all of this come together on its own.
I’m about three quarters finished with the book. Many more surprises await, I’m sure.
Saturday, February 06, 2010
The Future Visited
Is it a sign that one is getting older when his vision of the future doesn’t include anything beyond a certain number of years? Or is that just normal?
When I was much younger, my vision of the future was virtually unlimited in terms of length. I could think 20, 30, even 50 or 60 years into the future and find that I was a part of it. Now, whenever I think much beyond 20 or so years, I also think that I probably won’t be around to see it anyway, so why worry about it.
I have to wonder just how common of a thing that is. I know there may be some folks that don’t think that far ahead at all. They have concerns in the here and now, and don’t look much beyond the week or month ahead. There are others who enjoy thinking about life in the twenty-second or twenty-third centuries, and some (Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, and others) who have made tons of money from those thoughts.
I would think, though, that as life begins to wind down, a part of that process is a change in how one thinks about things to come, as well as the things that were and are. I’m already well past the point that I think I have to scratch my way to the top of the work pinnacle, or that I have to prove my competence to someone else. Yes, I still do good work and I still give 100% when at work, but the reason for doing so is different. I’m also looking more to the time when I won’t have to punch the time clock so religiously.
This thing called aging is yet another adventure that I am witnessing in myself and in others I know and love. It, like all other of life’s adventures, is a marvelous thing to behold and presents far more questions than answers. I may no longer be seeing myself 50 or 60 years from now in the future I concoct in my mind, but I’ll still have enough to think about as time marches on.
When I was much younger, my vision of the future was virtually unlimited in terms of length. I could think 20, 30, even 50 or 60 years into the future and find that I was a part of it. Now, whenever I think much beyond 20 or so years, I also think that I probably won’t be around to see it anyway, so why worry about it.
I have to wonder just how common of a thing that is. I know there may be some folks that don’t think that far ahead at all. They have concerns in the here and now, and don’t look much beyond the week or month ahead. There are others who enjoy thinking about life in the twenty-second or twenty-third centuries, and some (Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, and others) who have made tons of money from those thoughts.
I would think, though, that as life begins to wind down, a part of that process is a change in how one thinks about things to come, as well as the things that were and are. I’m already well past the point that I think I have to scratch my way to the top of the work pinnacle, or that I have to prove my competence to someone else. Yes, I still do good work and I still give 100% when at work, but the reason for doing so is different. I’m also looking more to the time when I won’t have to punch the time clock so religiously.
This thing called aging is yet another adventure that I am witnessing in myself and in others I know and love. It, like all other of life’s adventures, is a marvelous thing to behold and presents far more questions than answers. I may no longer be seeing myself 50 or 60 years from now in the future I concoct in my mind, but I’ll still have enough to think about as time marches on.
Friday, February 05, 2010
A Place to Go
Well, folks, it’s been a few days since I’ve written, or even felt like I had something to say. It’s been cloudy, foggy, rainy, snowy, and generally dreary for more days than I care to count. I think the lack of sun truly is beginning to take a toll on me as I struggle at times to maintain a decent demeanor.
It doesn’t help that work seems to be never-ending. Additionally, things seem to never get better…we always seem to be a half-step behind the ball, catching up in some way. We hold things together, but just once I’d like to see us at the top of the hill looking down instead of struggling against the grain trying to gain a little altitude.
Maybe that’s not practical in today’s work world. As I talk with others who work in different places for different employers, it seems to be the same everywhere. Everyone seems to be peddling hard just to keep from falling off. These are the folks who have to remind themselves that they are thankful they have someplace to go at 8 o’clock on Monday morning.
And then there are those who don’t have any place to go on Monday morning. They probably haven’t had a place to go on Monday morning for several weeks to several months to even a year or more. For them, life is on a different plane. They think differently, plan differently, and act differently. Life centers on unemployment insurance, expense cuts, and possibly even acceptance of charity. They worry about health insurance, or lack thereof. They don’t sleep much some nights. And their demeanor is even harder to control sometimes.
So as I gripe about work and lack of sunshine and where I am on the hill of life, I must also think of others who have different worries and different concerns. And I indeed am grateful that I have a place to go on Monday morning.
It doesn’t help that work seems to be never-ending. Additionally, things seem to never get better…we always seem to be a half-step behind the ball, catching up in some way. We hold things together, but just once I’d like to see us at the top of the hill looking down instead of struggling against the grain trying to gain a little altitude.
Maybe that’s not practical in today’s work world. As I talk with others who work in different places for different employers, it seems to be the same everywhere. Everyone seems to be peddling hard just to keep from falling off. These are the folks who have to remind themselves that they are thankful they have someplace to go at 8 o’clock on Monday morning.
And then there are those who don’t have any place to go on Monday morning. They probably haven’t had a place to go on Monday morning for several weeks to several months to even a year or more. For them, life is on a different plane. They think differently, plan differently, and act differently. Life centers on unemployment insurance, expense cuts, and possibly even acceptance of charity. They worry about health insurance, or lack thereof. They don’t sleep much some nights. And their demeanor is even harder to control sometimes.
So as I gripe about work and lack of sunshine and where I am on the hill of life, I must also think of others who have different worries and different concerns. And I indeed am grateful that I have a place to go on Monday morning.
Friday, January 29, 2010
We'll See
“Every day is election day” in Washington. Or so says President Obama in his State of the Union speech a few days ago.
Yes, it is, Mr. President. And it has been for years. Instead of making decisions based on what may be good for the country, legislators all too often make decisions based on how they will play with the electorate, as if the election was being held the next day.
This phenomenon is not unique with the Republicans, or with the Democrats, for that matter. It’s an infection that has permeated the Washington establishment for years.
Why else is it such a refreshing thing (and much talked-about) when a politician states in plain words that he or she is not running for re-election (a-la Mark Parkinson, governor or Kansas)? The clear implication is that he or she is no longer bound to think about decisions based on the future election. Instead, he can actually do the job he was put into office to do. What a novel idea! Doing one’s job!
As I said in a prior blog, this is not funny…it’s just sad. If there is any pessimism within me regarding our government, it is that those who are our elected representatives always seem to be running for office, and the minority party always seems to be the party of “No”, obstructing anything that it didn’t think up on its own or that may result in a better image for the majority party.
Will it change? I don’t know. What I do know is that something needs to happen soon. The government, both local and national, is becoming more and more irrelevant as the years go by, and more and more expensive. I also know that this cannot continue ad infinitum. We’ll see.
Yes, it is, Mr. President. And it has been for years. Instead of making decisions based on what may be good for the country, legislators all too often make decisions based on how they will play with the electorate, as if the election was being held the next day.
This phenomenon is not unique with the Republicans, or with the Democrats, for that matter. It’s an infection that has permeated the Washington establishment for years.
Why else is it such a refreshing thing (and much talked-about) when a politician states in plain words that he or she is not running for re-election (a-la Mark Parkinson, governor or Kansas)? The clear implication is that he or she is no longer bound to think about decisions based on the future election. Instead, he can actually do the job he was put into office to do. What a novel idea! Doing one’s job!
As I said in a prior blog, this is not funny…it’s just sad. If there is any pessimism within me regarding our government, it is that those who are our elected representatives always seem to be running for office, and the minority party always seems to be the party of “No”, obstructing anything that it didn’t think up on its own or that may result in a better image for the majority party.
Will it change? I don’t know. What I do know is that something needs to happen soon. The government, both local and national, is becoming more and more irrelevant as the years go by, and more and more expensive. I also know that this cannot continue ad infinitum. We’ll see.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Time and Timelessness
This weekend, we volunteered to keep the grandkids overnight so their parents could take a day off and celebrate their anniversary. The time is winding down and mom and dad should be here before long. Both of the kids are asleep…one in his bed and the other is sacked out on the couch a few feet away from me. It’s been an interesting time.
We’ve kept the kids before, and we always enjoy doing so. However, it’s a break in our routine, and it is kind of tough sometimes to remember that we have others we have responsibility for, and that we just can’t get up and leave, or even just go to the bathroom.
We’ve had several weekends leading up to this one where we either went somewhere, had someone at the house, or had some other responsibility of some kind. I told the wife that I’d really like to have a weekend where we had no responsibilities like that scheduled. Next weekend won’t quite do, as she will be gone to some kind of meeting, and I have agreed to substitute at a Sunday School class next Sunday. I’m sure that by the weekend, there will be something else we’ll need to do.
I always wondered how retired people spent their time. We’re not retired, but I’m getting an idea of how that might go should one or both of us be fortunate enough that we could retire. I suspect that we will be busy more of the time than not, assuming our health holds out and we have the financial means to do a few things from time to time. In a way, I look forward to that time as I know there are things we could do during the week that had to do with “church work” that we just cannot do now. A lot certainly needs to be done, and it seems that retired folks do a lot of it, probably due in great part to the fact that they have more time in which to do it.
Besides, remaining active like that, they say, keeps one healthier and happier than if one just vegetates in the house all the time. Sometimes, I like to veg out, but it never lasts very long and I’m ready to go after awhile. That’s one reason I don’t like to be ill, besides the obvious of not feeling well. Those four walls and ceiling get awfully old after just a short time and I’m ready for some new views of the world.
One of these days, it won’t matter for me any more. I’ll not be concerned with illness, retirement, or having something to do. I truly look forward to that time (or timelessness, to be more exact), and trust you do too.
We’ve kept the kids before, and we always enjoy doing so. However, it’s a break in our routine, and it is kind of tough sometimes to remember that we have others we have responsibility for, and that we just can’t get up and leave, or even just go to the bathroom.
We’ve had several weekends leading up to this one where we either went somewhere, had someone at the house, or had some other responsibility of some kind. I told the wife that I’d really like to have a weekend where we had no responsibilities like that scheduled. Next weekend won’t quite do, as she will be gone to some kind of meeting, and I have agreed to substitute at a Sunday School class next Sunday. I’m sure that by the weekend, there will be something else we’ll need to do.
I always wondered how retired people spent their time. We’re not retired, but I’m getting an idea of how that might go should one or both of us be fortunate enough that we could retire. I suspect that we will be busy more of the time than not, assuming our health holds out and we have the financial means to do a few things from time to time. In a way, I look forward to that time as I know there are things we could do during the week that had to do with “church work” that we just cannot do now. A lot certainly needs to be done, and it seems that retired folks do a lot of it, probably due in great part to the fact that they have more time in which to do it.
Besides, remaining active like that, they say, keeps one healthier and happier than if one just vegetates in the house all the time. Sometimes, I like to veg out, but it never lasts very long and I’m ready to go after awhile. That’s one reason I don’t like to be ill, besides the obvious of not feeling well. Those four walls and ceiling get awfully old after just a short time and I’m ready for some new views of the world.
One of these days, it won’t matter for me any more. I’ll not be concerned with illness, retirement, or having something to do. I truly look forward to that time (or timelessness, to be more exact), and trust you do too.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
It's Just Sad
I know many are joyous over the win in Massachusetts of a Republican for the Senate. Others are boding the end of the world as we know it because of that. As an independent, I am just sad. If you care to read further, I'll tell you why.
No, it won't be the end of the world as we know it. And, no, there's no particular reason for joy. Not much really will change, except the politics of legislation will be much more complicated, much more overrun with lobbying and bribery (yes, I said that word), and much ado about (usually) very little of substance. And that's what makes me sad.
The founding fathers had a deliberative body of august men (no women in that time) in mind when they conceived the Senate...a place where substance, country, and the people could rise above politics and the cesspool that often accompanies that profession. They deliberately made Senators appointed, not elected, and staggered their six year terms so the body could remain relatively intact and somewhat insulated from the whims of the day. Senate rules (each house sets its own rules) originally were conceived to carry out this vision of a great deliberative body which intentionally goes it slow and steady over the course of time. The rules attempted to preserve the rights of the minority (no limit on debate, etc) while maintaining a process so that needed legislation would eventually rise to the top and be debated and voted upon.
The Senate today is nothing like that body which was in the minds of Jefferson and others of long ago. Senator Byrd notwithstanding, the Senate and its rules have become a breeding ground for politics and political shenanigans at the basest of levels. The direct election of Senators began to bring down the Senate to its present form and function, and the polarization of the political process has brought the work to substantial completion.
Where is the great oratory on either side of the aisle? All either party knows how to say now is “filibuster”. Where are the debates wherein the words of the debaters are recorded, analyzed, and taught in the classroom as an example of great political debate? Where are the great Senators? Where are those who have, as many before them, distinguished themselves as men and women who have the interests of the American people at heart and aren't afraid to go it alone, if necessary, to preserve and protect what we hold dear? Where is the Senator who is not constantly looking toward the next election and how his or her words and actions will “play” in that election? Where is the Senator who is not constantly raising money for the next political campaign, and selling his or her soul and vote in the process? I wish someone would tell me who are the truly great Senators of today.
So, I'm sad. I'm disappointed. I'm angry. And I'm cynical. It doesn't matter three cents-worth if the Republicans or the Democrats are in control or if one has a filibuster proof majority or not. It's the same on either side of the aisle. Democrats have nothing to crow about regarding ethics and doing the right thing, and Republicans certainly aren't any better.
The only thing that this election in Massachusetts will do is make the Congress of the United States even more irrelevant than they have been the past many years, and as Rome burns, they will continue to fiddle until all that's left is for someone to shut off the last light as they leave.
No, it won't be the end of the world as we know it. And, no, there's no particular reason for joy. Not much really will change, except the politics of legislation will be much more complicated, much more overrun with lobbying and bribery (yes, I said that word), and much ado about (usually) very little of substance. And that's what makes me sad.
The founding fathers had a deliberative body of august men (no women in that time) in mind when they conceived the Senate...a place where substance, country, and the people could rise above politics and the cesspool that often accompanies that profession. They deliberately made Senators appointed, not elected, and staggered their six year terms so the body could remain relatively intact and somewhat insulated from the whims of the day. Senate rules (each house sets its own rules) originally were conceived to carry out this vision of a great deliberative body which intentionally goes it slow and steady over the course of time. The rules attempted to preserve the rights of the minority (no limit on debate, etc) while maintaining a process so that needed legislation would eventually rise to the top and be debated and voted upon.
The Senate today is nothing like that body which was in the minds of Jefferson and others of long ago. Senator Byrd notwithstanding, the Senate and its rules have become a breeding ground for politics and political shenanigans at the basest of levels. The direct election of Senators began to bring down the Senate to its present form and function, and the polarization of the political process has brought the work to substantial completion.
Where is the great oratory on either side of the aisle? All either party knows how to say now is “filibuster”. Where are the debates wherein the words of the debaters are recorded, analyzed, and taught in the classroom as an example of great political debate? Where are the great Senators? Where are those who have, as many before them, distinguished themselves as men and women who have the interests of the American people at heart and aren't afraid to go it alone, if necessary, to preserve and protect what we hold dear? Where is the Senator who is not constantly looking toward the next election and how his or her words and actions will “play” in that election? Where is the Senator who is not constantly raising money for the next political campaign, and selling his or her soul and vote in the process? I wish someone would tell me who are the truly great Senators of today.
So, I'm sad. I'm disappointed. I'm angry. And I'm cynical. It doesn't matter three cents-worth if the Republicans or the Democrats are in control or if one has a filibuster proof majority or not. It's the same on either side of the aisle. Democrats have nothing to crow about regarding ethics and doing the right thing, and Republicans certainly aren't any better.
The only thing that this election in Massachusetts will do is make the Congress of the United States even more irrelevant than they have been the past many years, and as Rome burns, they will continue to fiddle until all that's left is for someone to shut off the last light as they leave.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Not Just Think, But Do
It’s been a week (almost), since I last blogged. Let’s see. There’s been a week’s worth of work at the nursing home, six nights slept, and many meals eaten. There’s also been the comfort of a nice home, the company of a good wife, and the great relationships with friends and relatives.
Such has life been here; such has not been life in Haiti. What a tragedy of untold magnitude. Words just can’t describe what is happening there, just as words couldn’t describe Katrina or the Tsunami or other earthquakes or hurricanes. I haven’t a clue why such things happen, nor do I have a clue why bad things happen to good people. Yet, to say, “It is what it is,” seems to be trite and dismissive.
So, do we throw up our collective hands and say something about not being able to fix the world? Or do we stop for a minute, collect ourselves, and ask what we can do? I hope the latter, as it is the collective help of individuals that will truly make a difference, not only in Haiti, but wherever there is calamity.
The earthquake is but the last of untold decades of despair, evil, and catastrophe, both natural and man-caused. While many, many people have been and continue to help places like this in any way they can, the task truly seems gargantuan and that two or three steps back are taken for every step forward.
Yet we continue. We press on. And some of us really do what we can, although many of us could do a lot more. This is a good time to give ourselves an assessment. This is a good time to not just think, but do.
Such has life been here; such has not been life in Haiti. What a tragedy of untold magnitude. Words just can’t describe what is happening there, just as words couldn’t describe Katrina or the Tsunami or other earthquakes or hurricanes. I haven’t a clue why such things happen, nor do I have a clue why bad things happen to good people. Yet, to say, “It is what it is,” seems to be trite and dismissive.
So, do we throw up our collective hands and say something about not being able to fix the world? Or do we stop for a minute, collect ourselves, and ask what we can do? I hope the latter, as it is the collective help of individuals that will truly make a difference, not only in Haiti, but wherever there is calamity.
The earthquake is but the last of untold decades of despair, evil, and catastrophe, both natural and man-caused. While many, many people have been and continue to help places like this in any way they can, the task truly seems gargantuan and that two or three steps back are taken for every step forward.
Yet we continue. We press on. And some of us really do what we can, although many of us could do a lot more. This is a good time to give ourselves an assessment. This is a good time to not just think, but do.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
To Crash or Not to Crash
It’s Saturday morning. I don’t often get up at 5:30am on Saturday; consequently, I don’t often blog at 8am. Oh, I know some folks just seem to wake up as the perfect perky person, but I’m not one of them. It takes awhile for the bones to get used to supporting the weight each morning.
Oh, why am I up, you ask? Our church hosted the York College (Nebraska) touring choir last evening (a great performance, I might add) and we kept four of the young men in the choir overnight. They had to be back at the church to load up on the bus for Colorado at 7:30 this morning. So that meant we had to get up early to feed them and get them to the building.
Now, I’m not sure whether to crash for another hour or two of sleep or just tough it out. As I think of it further, maybe that hour or two would be a good thing since we’re hosting a birthday party for our younger grandson this evening. I don’t think a tired grandpa would be a good thing tonight.
Well, the hour rest suddenly, with a phone call, has vanished. Sis has a frozen pipe and they want to borrow my radiant heater so I’ll be loading up and going into their place in a minute or two. It’s been cold here and their older home just has a draft or two that in this weather will freeze water pipes. I just hope the pipe didn’t break. It’s in a place that’s hard to get to under the house.
Later…
Oh, why am I up, you ask? Our church hosted the York College (Nebraska) touring choir last evening (a great performance, I might add) and we kept four of the young men in the choir overnight. They had to be back at the church to load up on the bus for Colorado at 7:30 this morning. So that meant we had to get up early to feed them and get them to the building.
Now, I’m not sure whether to crash for another hour or two of sleep or just tough it out. As I think of it further, maybe that hour or two would be a good thing since we’re hosting a birthday party for our younger grandson this evening. I don’t think a tired grandpa would be a good thing tonight.
Well, the hour rest suddenly, with a phone call, has vanished. Sis has a frozen pipe and they want to borrow my radiant heater so I’ll be loading up and going into their place in a minute or two. It’s been cold here and their older home just has a draft or two that in this weather will freeze water pipes. I just hope the pipe didn’t break. It’s in a place that’s hard to get to under the house.
Later…
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Award-Winning Comments
Rush Limbaugh had to go to the hospital a few days ago suffering from chest pain. They didn’t find anything cardiac related, and Limbaugh was released. On his release, he was quoted in an Associated Press article in the Wichita Eagle on January 2, 2010, as saying, that he got the best health treatment in the world "right here in the United States of America."
"I don't think there's one thing wrong with the American health care system," Limbaugh said. "I got no special treatment other than what anybody else that would have called 911 and had been brought in with the same kinds of symptoms."
I am truly glad that Mr. Limbaugh was able to get the diagnosis and treatment that he needed at that time. However, as someone with both fame and money, Mr. Limbaugh hasn’t a clue whether there’s anything wrong with the health care system or not. I challenge him to attempt to receive care anonymously, without insurance, and without money. I challenge him to say the same words regarding our health care system after a few years of trying to find free clinics, applying for Medicaid, navigating the emergency room, and hoping against hope that he won’t need an expensive antibiotic to treat a very treatable condition.
An article in today’s Eagle (January 3, 2010) tells of crowds waiting all night for vision, dental, and medical examinations and treatment in Tennessee. A 26 year old mother of three says she has waited “pretty much as long as I can remember” to escape the pain throbbing through her jaws. Her husband is out of work. Medical insurance is out of the question.
Over the next two days, providers at that clinic will have seen 701 patients. They will have extracted 852 teeth, filled 234 others, tested 345 pairs of eyes, and had 87 people examined by an M.D. The bill, if someone was paying, would total over $138,000. And this is just one clinic in one area over two days.
The people that finance and provide the clinic say it’s been this way during the entire 17 year period they’ve been doing this. The clinic just completed was number 587 and was held at a local high school.
Would Mr. Limbaugh have been willing to wait “pretty much as long as (he) can remember” to have those pains in his chest examined? Would he have driven for two hours with three kids, waited overnight in line over 10 hours, and waited some more the next day (with those three kids) in order to be seen by a provider who didn’t have access to the latest and greatest medical equipment, laboratory, or diagnostic instruments? Who had hundreds more people lined up to see him or her? Give me a break.
Yet thousands of people live this way, dealing with their medical and dental care as they can and as others are willing to provide. Having no choice, they wait for the next free clinic which could be next week or next year. They hope against hope that they will be healthy enough between clinics that they will be able to continue to function.
I give Mr. Limbaugh credit, though. His comments certainly qualify for the “stupid comments of an ignoramus” award. They’re right up there with President Bush’s comment that health care is always accessible. “People have access to health care in America. After all, you just go to an emergency room,” he is quoted as saying in Cleveland, Ohio a few years ago.
By the way, while the EMTALA law requires emergency rooms to provide an examination and stabilization to anyone presenting without regard to ability to pay, that is ALL it requires. No emergency room is required to provide treatment that is not life-saving or does not stabilize the patient’s medical condition. The fact that many emergency rooms DO provide treatment in addition to what EMTALA requires is testament to the generosity of many health care providers. I wonder if Mr. Limbaugh or Mr. Bush would be satisfied with this kind of health care?
P.S. (added later) When Mr. Limbaugh and the mother of three in Tennessee receive substantially the same care in substantially the same time frame for substantially the same out of pocket dollars for the same condition, with substantially the same hope of a good outcome, then health care will be closer to what it should be. As it is now, it is ludicrous to think that both of these people will be treated in the same manner if they both present with the same problem at the same health care institution at the same time. And anyone who thinks that they will be treated equally with the same chance for a good outcome hasn't yet crawled out from under the rock they've been living under all these years.
"I don't think there's one thing wrong with the American health care system," Limbaugh said. "I got no special treatment other than what anybody else that would have called 911 and had been brought in with the same kinds of symptoms."
I am truly glad that Mr. Limbaugh was able to get the diagnosis and treatment that he needed at that time. However, as someone with both fame and money, Mr. Limbaugh hasn’t a clue whether there’s anything wrong with the health care system or not. I challenge him to attempt to receive care anonymously, without insurance, and without money. I challenge him to say the same words regarding our health care system after a few years of trying to find free clinics, applying for Medicaid, navigating the emergency room, and hoping against hope that he won’t need an expensive antibiotic to treat a very treatable condition.
An article in today’s Eagle (January 3, 2010) tells of crowds waiting all night for vision, dental, and medical examinations and treatment in Tennessee. A 26 year old mother of three says she has waited “pretty much as long as I can remember” to escape the pain throbbing through her jaws. Her husband is out of work. Medical insurance is out of the question.
Over the next two days, providers at that clinic will have seen 701 patients. They will have extracted 852 teeth, filled 234 others, tested 345 pairs of eyes, and had 87 people examined by an M.D. The bill, if someone was paying, would total over $138,000. And this is just one clinic in one area over two days.
The people that finance and provide the clinic say it’s been this way during the entire 17 year period they’ve been doing this. The clinic just completed was number 587 and was held at a local high school.
Would Mr. Limbaugh have been willing to wait “pretty much as long as (he) can remember” to have those pains in his chest examined? Would he have driven for two hours with three kids, waited overnight in line over 10 hours, and waited some more the next day (with those three kids) in order to be seen by a provider who didn’t have access to the latest and greatest medical equipment, laboratory, or diagnostic instruments? Who had hundreds more people lined up to see him or her? Give me a break.
Yet thousands of people live this way, dealing with their medical and dental care as they can and as others are willing to provide. Having no choice, they wait for the next free clinic which could be next week or next year. They hope against hope that they will be healthy enough between clinics that they will be able to continue to function.
I give Mr. Limbaugh credit, though. His comments certainly qualify for the “stupid comments of an ignoramus” award. They’re right up there with President Bush’s comment that health care is always accessible. “People have access to health care in America. After all, you just go to an emergency room,” he is quoted as saying in Cleveland, Ohio a few years ago.
By the way, while the EMTALA law requires emergency rooms to provide an examination and stabilization to anyone presenting without regard to ability to pay, that is ALL it requires. No emergency room is required to provide treatment that is not life-saving or does not stabilize the patient’s medical condition. The fact that many emergency rooms DO provide treatment in addition to what EMTALA requires is testament to the generosity of many health care providers. I wonder if Mr. Limbaugh or Mr. Bush would be satisfied with this kind of health care?
P.S. (added later) When Mr. Limbaugh and the mother of three in Tennessee receive substantially the same care in substantially the same time frame for substantially the same out of pocket dollars for the same condition, with substantially the same hope of a good outcome, then health care will be closer to what it should be. As it is now, it is ludicrous to think that both of these people will be treated in the same manner if they both present with the same problem at the same health care institution at the same time. And anyone who thinks that they will be treated equally with the same chance for a good outcome hasn't yet crawled out from under the rock they've been living under all these years.
Saturday, January 02, 2010
Saturday Morning
We went “out” this morning to do a few errands. One of those was stopping at the mall to exchange some house slippers I had gotten for Christmas that were too small. The wife also had some things to buy in a department store there. While I was unsuccessful with the slipper exchange (they didn’t have the right size), it wasn’t a total loss. We saw a friend from the community where we used to live and chatted a minute or two. I perused the little shops in the public areas of the mall and wondered how anyone possibly could make any kind of a living selling some of the things they were selling. And I encountered all kinds of people.
I encountered the gamut of men from homeless men to dads who had their kids for the weekend (they’re not hard to spot) to other men who were waiting on their wives to finish shopping just as I was.
There were teens who (and I admit I don’t really know) appeared to not have a clue or care, young mothers pushing strollers, texters, trollers (mostly girls 12 to 15), strollers (who were walking for exercise), the requisite saggers (both male and female) and those who looked like they were angry with the world. There were women in gawd-awful get-ups with heels and others who were nicely attired. Older women were, it seemed, more of the nicely attired group, though there were one or two of that age who looked like they really wanted to be 17 again.
Some men were following their women; others were leading. A few (like me) were just standing around. Sales clerks helped those people who came by and feigned interest, and one even asked me if I was being helped (I’m so beyond help…) as I looked at the watches in a display case.
“I’m just killing time waiting on my wife,” I said with a little embarrassment. I moved on fairly quickly to a corner and just stood there for awhile trying to blend in. Noticing, after a time, that I was in the cosmetics department and probably wouldn’t blend in there in the next hundred years or so, I moved on out to the store entrance.
The wife called just a few minutes after that and we found each other and went on to the next thing. On the way out, I looked at the tattoo parlor, the candy store, the jewelry store, the underwear place (Victoria’s Secret), the book store, the electronics retailer, the import market, the tobacco outlet, and all of the clothing stores and wondered to myself if there was enough money in Wichita to keep all of these places in business. I also went past the little shops set up in the court area… the calendar place, the cell phone place, the shirt place, the massage place, the knock-off perfume place, the hat place, the ink cartridge refill place (yeah, I’ll certainly think of the mall first to get my cartridges refilled or get a tattoo), and the 18 other places on our way out. I wondered if there was enough interest on the part of the public to patronize these places to the extent that they were all here and going to be successful. I just can’t imagine that could possibly be the case.
I dunno, though. Maybe the dames in the heels need the massage parlor. Maybe the saggers need tattoos to cover what their clothes don’t. And maybe those who are angry with it all could use something positive from the bookstore or a new calendar. On that thought, maybe the mall and its inhabitants were made for each other. That may be why I felt somewhat uncomfortable in there.
I encountered the gamut of men from homeless men to dads who had their kids for the weekend (they’re not hard to spot) to other men who were waiting on their wives to finish shopping just as I was.
There were teens who (and I admit I don’t really know) appeared to not have a clue or care, young mothers pushing strollers, texters, trollers (mostly girls 12 to 15), strollers (who were walking for exercise), the requisite saggers (both male and female) and those who looked like they were angry with the world. There were women in gawd-awful get-ups with heels and others who were nicely attired. Older women were, it seemed, more of the nicely attired group, though there were one or two of that age who looked like they really wanted to be 17 again.
Some men were following their women; others were leading. A few (like me) were just standing around. Sales clerks helped those people who came by and feigned interest, and one even asked me if I was being helped (I’m so beyond help…) as I looked at the watches in a display case.
“I’m just killing time waiting on my wife,” I said with a little embarrassment. I moved on fairly quickly to a corner and just stood there for awhile trying to blend in. Noticing, after a time, that I was in the cosmetics department and probably wouldn’t blend in there in the next hundred years or so, I moved on out to the store entrance.
The wife called just a few minutes after that and we found each other and went on to the next thing. On the way out, I looked at the tattoo parlor, the candy store, the jewelry store, the underwear place (Victoria’s Secret), the book store, the electronics retailer, the import market, the tobacco outlet, and all of the clothing stores and wondered to myself if there was enough money in Wichita to keep all of these places in business. I also went past the little shops set up in the court area… the calendar place, the cell phone place, the shirt place, the massage place, the knock-off perfume place, the hat place, the ink cartridge refill place (yeah, I’ll certainly think of the mall first to get my cartridges refilled or get a tattoo), and the 18 other places on our way out. I wondered if there was enough interest on the part of the public to patronize these places to the extent that they were all here and going to be successful. I just can’t imagine that could possibly be the case.
I dunno, though. Maybe the dames in the heels need the massage parlor. Maybe the saggers need tattoos to cover what their clothes don’t. And maybe those who are angry with it all could use something positive from the bookstore or a new calendar. On that thought, maybe the mall and its inhabitants were made for each other. That may be why I felt somewhat uncomfortable in there.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
End-of-Decade Musings
Today is the last day of 2009 and of the decade. (You can count the decade any way you like; in my blog, it ends today.) Ten years ago tonight, I was at the hospital where we worked, making certain that the Y2K hullabaloo was just that and nothing more. About 10 minutes after midnight, when I was satisfied that nothing we had there was going to blow up or disappear, I went out back and lit some fireworks in the street. The city had allowed fireworks to be sold and shot that night for the special occasion of the beginning of a new century. Naturally, I couldn't pass up that opportunity.
Tonight, if God wills, we will spend a relatively quiet evening at my brother's place with friends and relatives, eating, talking, and playing mindless games. There won't be much late-sleeping tomorrow as we probably won't stay up that late. Old people don't stay up late much, you know. Other than that, the decade of the 20-teens will be ushered in whether we like it or not and whether we're ready for it or not.
When that happens, I will have been a part of eight decades, but who's counting? Born in 1949, I like to say that because it makes me even older than I am. Hopefully, others will also think of me as wiser than I am, since age and wisdom traditionally go together.
My, my, a lot has happened these last 10 years. I hope, though, that through it all, what has really taken place is that I have grown more accepting of myself and others, of my lot in life, and of my inability to create true happiness and peace for myself. I hope I have honed my reliance on the One who made it all in such a way that would enable a relationship with Him like I've never had before. And regardless where the 20-teen decade takes us, I would hope that I can say at the end of it, “I have loved and have been loved.”
Tonight, if God wills, we will spend a relatively quiet evening at my brother's place with friends and relatives, eating, talking, and playing mindless games. There won't be much late-sleeping tomorrow as we probably won't stay up that late. Old people don't stay up late much, you know. Other than that, the decade of the 20-teens will be ushered in whether we like it or not and whether we're ready for it or not.
When that happens, I will have been a part of eight decades, but who's counting? Born in 1949, I like to say that because it makes me even older than I am. Hopefully, others will also think of me as wiser than I am, since age and wisdom traditionally go together.
My, my, a lot has happened these last 10 years. I hope, though, that through it all, what has really taken place is that I have grown more accepting of myself and others, of my lot in life, and of my inability to create true happiness and peace for myself. I hope I have honed my reliance on the One who made it all in such a way that would enable a relationship with Him like I've never had before. And regardless where the 20-teen decade takes us, I would hope that I can say at the end of it, “I have loved and have been loved.”
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Emus and Cardboard
A couple of things happened today that I never even dreamed would happen. Have you ever said to yourself, “I never would have thought in a hundred years that…” I said that twice today.
The first was a commercial on TV over the lunch hour. We had the kitchen set on while we were dining on leftover chicken soup, and a commercial came on for emu oil. It’s been on before, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that this one minute spot was constructed to convince the viewer that he or she needed emu oil for good health and wellness. It’s like, “Oh, I’ve never thought of that before! I know now that I really, really need emu oil! Thank you for letting me know that!”
Never in a hundred years would I have thought that someone would try to sell me emu oil.
The second happened at work. Someone brought some pastries and coffee from Starbucks. The therapy girls asked me if I wanted any. I took them up on the coffee…I don’t get Starbucks very often, as I’ve never been in a store ( and don’t intend to start any time soon). They pointed me to the coffee…in a cardboard container with a pour spout.
Never in a hundred years would I have thought that I would be pouring coffee out of a cardboard container.
So, there you have it, folks. I am continually amazed at how ignorant and hopelessly…um…OLD I am when compared with those in the avant garde ranks who slather emu oil over their bodies and slurp (what they say is) the world’s best (and I presume has to be) most expensive coffee.
Excuse me while I trek out to get some coffee in cardboard.
The first was a commercial on TV over the lunch hour. We had the kitchen set on while we were dining on leftover chicken soup, and a commercial came on for emu oil. It’s been on before, but I hadn’t thought about the fact that this one minute spot was constructed to convince the viewer that he or she needed emu oil for good health and wellness. It’s like, “Oh, I’ve never thought of that before! I know now that I really, really need emu oil! Thank you for letting me know that!”
Never in a hundred years would I have thought that someone would try to sell me emu oil.
The second happened at work. Someone brought some pastries and coffee from Starbucks. The therapy girls asked me if I wanted any. I took them up on the coffee…I don’t get Starbucks very often, as I’ve never been in a store ( and don’t intend to start any time soon). They pointed me to the coffee…in a cardboard container with a pour spout.
Never in a hundred years would I have thought that I would be pouring coffee out of a cardboard container.
So, there you have it, folks. I am continually amazed at how ignorant and hopelessly…um…OLD I am when compared with those in the avant garde ranks who slather emu oil over their bodies and slurp (what they say is) the world’s best (and I presume has to be) most expensive coffee.
Excuse me while I trek out to get some coffee in cardboard.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Thought-Provoking
I don't know what to make of the story on "60 Minutes" this evening. A former CIA operative who worked in Afghanistan tells how he and his small bands of warriors defeated the Taliban shortly after 2001 in that region. He and an Afghan government official also talk about what is needed now in that region.
I don't have an opinion on the morality or "rightness" of what these men did. I know enough to know that war is, to say the least, a messy proposition. I also know that due to the fallen nature of the creation, these kinds of things just are a part of life and living.
However, if you wish to see a different perspective on the war in that area, what we are doing there and why (whether you agree or not that we should be there or are doing the right thing there), please watch the video. It's at http://www.cbs.com/primetime/60_minutes/video/index.php?pid=9Ni0XjwOBY60NbRGZWrcQB1b7WDV_gIT
You'll have to wade through some commercials, but the piece is well worth seeing, and provokes much thought.
I don't have an opinion on the morality or "rightness" of what these men did. I know enough to know that war is, to say the least, a messy proposition. I also know that due to the fallen nature of the creation, these kinds of things just are a part of life and living.
However, if you wish to see a different perspective on the war in that area, what we are doing there and why (whether you agree or not that we should be there or are doing the right thing there), please watch the video. It's at http://www.cbs.com/primetime/60_minutes/video/index.php?pid=9Ni0XjwOBY60NbRGZWrcQB1b7WDV_gIT
You'll have to wade through some commercials, but the piece is well worth seeing, and provokes much thought.
Friday, December 25, 2009
The Adventure Continues
As I sit here listening to Handel’s “Messiah” on public radio, I am struck by how many of the pieces in that work are familiar to me. More than that I am struck by how many of those I have sung in a choir or some kind at some time in the past.
I am not musically trained, although I have been given a gift for reading music, and have at least a form of absolute pitch. I’ve always been active in choirs in high school and in communities, and enjoy singing with others.
Some of the great memories for me are those where I performed, along with others, such as the “Hallelujah Chorus”, “And the Glory”, and others from The Messiah. I also have fond memories of singing “O Holy Night” and other Christmas music along with non-holiday music such as “The Lord’s Prayer”, “Walk in Jerusalem”, and others. One year, our high school choir performed Handel’s “The Heavens are Telling”…a difficult piece at best for a high school choir. If I remember right, Ardyth Trenary (we called her “Trigger” because she liked horses) was the vocal teacher that year. She stayed only one year, but we did stuff that year (like a Broadway production) we’d never done before (or since).
When we were in southern Kansas, I helped organize a community choir that performed for several years during the Christmas holiday. That was probably one of the more enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had, and I relish those memories.
I’d like to connect with a choir just once more in my lifetime…nothing fancy, no opera singers, no hot dog performers; just ordinary folks who have some musical ability who want to get together with a conductor and see what they can produce.
The family will be here in another hour or so and we’ll spend the rest of the day together in warmth and comfort. As my lovely wife wrote on the bottom of the Christmas card she gave me this morning, “And the adventure continues!”
I am not musically trained, although I have been given a gift for reading music, and have at least a form of absolute pitch. I’ve always been active in choirs in high school and in communities, and enjoy singing with others.
Some of the great memories for me are those where I performed, along with others, such as the “Hallelujah Chorus”, “And the Glory”, and others from The Messiah. I also have fond memories of singing “O Holy Night” and other Christmas music along with non-holiday music such as “The Lord’s Prayer”, “Walk in Jerusalem”, and others. One year, our high school choir performed Handel’s “The Heavens are Telling”…a difficult piece at best for a high school choir. If I remember right, Ardyth Trenary (we called her “Trigger” because she liked horses) was the vocal teacher that year. She stayed only one year, but we did stuff that year (like a Broadway production) we’d never done before (or since).
When we were in southern Kansas, I helped organize a community choir that performed for several years during the Christmas holiday. That was probably one of the more enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had, and I relish those memories.
I’d like to connect with a choir just once more in my lifetime…nothing fancy, no opera singers, no hot dog performers; just ordinary folks who have some musical ability who want to get together with a conductor and see what they can produce.
The family will be here in another hour or so and we’ll spend the rest of the day together in warmth and comfort. As my lovely wife wrote on the bottom of the Christmas card she gave me this morning, “And the adventure continues!”
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
O Holy Night
I was working in the shop at work today. I don't recall what specifically I was doing...fixing something, I think. I have a radio in there, and had it on an FM station that was playing Christmas music. They went through several numbers, then started "O Holy Night". I stopped in my tracks, went to my desk, sat down, and listened to the entire piece.
Now, I know that this song is a "warhorse" of the Christmas music genre. I also know it's been done by many people, recorded times too numerous to count on an abacus, and is so-oooo very familiar. I've heard it too, many many times. But this time there was something that went "click" in my head, and I just stopped everything, sat down, and concentrated on the words and their meaning. I must also admit that a tear or two formed in the corners of my eyes as I pondered the depth of the meaning of those words.
Have you ever really heard the words of that song? I mean to hear with understanding...to get the message...to know what the lyricist was trying to say? In case you haven't, I reprint them below.
O Holy Night
by John Sullivan Dwight (1855)
O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of Our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world In sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.
Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts By His cradle we stand.
So led by light of A star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men From Orient land.
The King of Kings Lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials Born to be our friend.
He knows our need, To our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Before Him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us To love one another;
His law is love And His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break For the slave is our brother;
And in His name All oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy In grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us Praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
Now, I know that this song is a "warhorse" of the Christmas music genre. I also know it's been done by many people, recorded times too numerous to count on an abacus, and is so-oooo very familiar. I've heard it too, many many times. But this time there was something that went "click" in my head, and I just stopped everything, sat down, and concentrated on the words and their meaning. I must also admit that a tear or two formed in the corners of my eyes as I pondered the depth of the meaning of those words.
Have you ever really heard the words of that song? I mean to hear with understanding...to get the message...to know what the lyricist was trying to say? In case you haven't, I reprint them below.
O Holy Night
by John Sullivan Dwight (1855)
O holy night! The stars are brightly shining,
It is the night of Our dear Saviour's birth.
Long lay the world In sin and error pining,
'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices,
For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born;
O night divine, O night, O night Divine.
Led by the light of Faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts By His cradle we stand.
So led by light of A star sweetly gleaming,
Here come the wise men From Orient land.
The King of Kings Lay thus in lowly manger;
In all our trials Born to be our friend.
He knows our need, To our weakness is no stranger,
Behold your King! Before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King, Before Him lowly bend!
Truly He taught us To love one another;
His law is love And His gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break For the slave is our brother;
And in His name All oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy In grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us Praise His holy name.
Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
His power and glory Evermore proclaim.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Try This
Go to http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap960617.html and click on the picture. It should enlarge. I think if you click on it again, it will enlarge once more. See if you can find places on that picture that you know. If you’re geographically challenged, it might be a problem, but you can try.
For the folks in Kansas, try to find Wichita first. It’s down and to the left of one of the larger dots on the map just a shade to the right of the middle (Kansas City). You can follow I-70 west out of KC where you’ll find Lawrence, Topeka, and so on. To the southwest of Kansas City is a moderately large dot which would be Wichita. About half way between those two dots is a dot that is Emporia.
Once you find Wichita, it’s not hard to see Kingman, Harper, Anthony, Pratt, Hutchinson, Newton, Hesston, McPherson, and other communities. For those in Western Kansas, start at I-70 (you can see where it bends to the northwest at Oakley) and find communities from that point.
Michigan folks will have a harder time of it since the Detroit metro area is so bright. This map works a lot better in rural areas, of course. And if you’re from Florida, Arizona, or Montana, you’re on your own as I’m not that familiar with the local geography.
By the way, the website that has this (APOD) is a part of NASA and has a different picture that is space-related every day. It’s a fascinating place and this site is a great way to take in just a small part of what’s out there.
For the folks in Kansas, try to find Wichita first. It’s down and to the left of one of the larger dots on the map just a shade to the right of the middle (Kansas City). You can follow I-70 west out of KC where you’ll find Lawrence, Topeka, and so on. To the southwest of Kansas City is a moderately large dot which would be Wichita. About half way between those two dots is a dot that is Emporia.
Once you find Wichita, it’s not hard to see Kingman, Harper, Anthony, Pratt, Hutchinson, Newton, Hesston, McPherson, and other communities. For those in Western Kansas, start at I-70 (you can see where it bends to the northwest at Oakley) and find communities from that point.
Michigan folks will have a harder time of it since the Detroit metro area is so bright. This map works a lot better in rural areas, of course. And if you’re from Florida, Arizona, or Montana, you’re on your own as I’m not that familiar with the local geography.
By the way, the website that has this (APOD) is a part of NASA and has a different picture that is space-related every day. It’s a fascinating place and this site is a great way to take in just a small part of what’s out there.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
The Solstice
The winter solstice is fast approaching. Specifically, it shows up on December 21 this year just a few minutes before noon. That is when the sun is as far south in the sky as it will go. The days are also as short (9 hours, 34 minutes in Wichita, according the almanac) as they will get. From that point on, the sun will begin a northerly journey in the sky and the days will begin to get longer. Slowly at first, then more quickly, the sun begins to warm the northern hemisphere yet again in an almost endless cycle of climate, temperature change, and seasons.
I know there is a lot of winter ahead, but I always like to mark the winter solstice as it means that there is the hope of spring, warmer weather, and pleasant temperatures. I am also reminded of the provision of God in all of this. He sees to it that the times and seasons remain and keep in their places. He assures that there will indeed be an awakening this coming spring as the sun warms the earth and life springs forth yet again.
Year after year, regardless of any political upheaval, war, or human-made event, the sun still rises in the East and the plants and creatures continue to inhabit the earth, fulfilling the will of God. I have to wonder how many more springs I will see, and how many more springs will be seen by the creation itself, but those are questions that are not for me to answer. How ever many more springs that come my way, I will marvel at what I see in the creation, even out my back door.
There is life ahead and living to be done. There are adventures to share and experience. And there is the hope of rest from labors and an eternity with the King.
I know there is a lot of winter ahead, but I always like to mark the winter solstice as it means that there is the hope of spring, warmer weather, and pleasant temperatures. I am also reminded of the provision of God in all of this. He sees to it that the times and seasons remain and keep in their places. He assures that there will indeed be an awakening this coming spring as the sun warms the earth and life springs forth yet again.
Year after year, regardless of any political upheaval, war, or human-made event, the sun still rises in the East and the plants and creatures continue to inhabit the earth, fulfilling the will of God. I have to wonder how many more springs I will see, and how many more springs will be seen by the creation itself, but those are questions that are not for me to answer. How ever many more springs that come my way, I will marvel at what I see in the creation, even out my back door.
There is life ahead and living to be done. There are adventures to share and experience. And there is the hope of rest from labors and an eternity with the King.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Christmas
I penned this first as a bulletin article five years ago.
“Tis the season to be jolly! Fa la la la la la la la la”. I suppose these words are very familiar to you as from the Christmas tune, Deck the Halls. But if your take on the season is the same as that of Lucy Van Pelt in “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, you’ll relate very well to her as she says, “I know how you feel about all this Christmas business, getting depressed and all that. It happens to me every year. I never get what I really want. I always get a lot of stupid toys or a bicycle or clothes or something like that.”
The unfortunate thing is that many in our society feel the same way. Instead of a time for joy, it’s a time for depression. Instead of a time of contentment, it’s a time of greed. Instead of a time fulfillment, it’s a time of unfulfilled (and unfulfillable) expectations.
We go through the motions, succumb to the commercial temptations, break our necks to have the perfect holiday celebration, and put on the best show we know how, only to find that something is terribly wrong.
We have not found what we’re looking for. We’re not even close. And instead of sitting back and taking stock, we pedal even faster, so to speak, in the futile hope that somehow things will be different this time.
In the same TV program, Charlie Brown, exasperated, tired, and harried because of the antics of the others at a Christmas play practice, shouts out to anyone who will listen, “Isn't there anyone out there who can tell me what Christmas is all about?”
And Linus Van Pelt, Lucy’s little brother, takes center stage and says, “Sure, Charlie Brown, I can tell you. Lights, please. (A spotlight shines on Linus.) "And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the lord shone round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold, I bring unto you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you this day is born in the City of
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Ignorance & Want
I just saw the Dickens classic A Christmas Carol for perhaps the 89th time. This particular adaptation was the one done by George C. Scott. Each time I watch this, it seems that I see something new or have a little different take on what is happening. Perhaps part of that comes from hardly ever watching the full movie in its entirety. For whatever the reason I seem to always catch pieces and parts of this story. I can perhaps count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen the whole thing at one sitting.
Nevertheless, I was struck this time by the appearance of the children under the skirt of the Ghost of Christmas Present. They are named Ignorance and Want, according to the Ghost. And depending on the version one sees, either one or both have the word “doom” written on their foreheads. This is perhaps the most riveting of all the scenes in the story.
Scrooge and the ghost have a conversation regarding these children. The words below are purported to be the original writing of Dickens regarding the children. The picture is said to be a print of the original in the book.
I leave you to discover the truth of this scene and apply it to yourself as you can.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
It was a long night, if it were only a night; but Scrooge had his doubts of this, because the Christmas Holidays appeared to be condensed into the space of time they passed together. It was strange, too, that while Scrooge remained unaltered in his outward form, the Ghost grew older, clearly older. Scrooge had observed this change, but never spoke of it, until they left a children's Twelfth Night party, when, looking at the Spirit as they stood together in an open place, he noticed that its hair was grey.
"Are spirits' lives so short?" asked Scrooge.
"My life upon this globe, is very brief," replied the Ghost. "It ends to-night."
"To-night!" cried Scrooge.
"To-night at midnight. Hark! The time is drawing near."
The chimes were ringing the three quarters past eleven at that moment.
"Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask," said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit's robe, "but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?"
"It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it," was the Spirit's sorrowful reply. "Look here."
From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.
"Oh, Man, look here! Look, look, down here!" exclaimed the Ghost.
They were a boy and a girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.
Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.
"Spirit, are they yours?" Scrooge could say no more.
"They are Man's," said the Spirit, looking down upon them. "And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!" cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. "Slander those who tell it ye. Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And abide the end."
"Have they no refuge or resource?" cried Scrooge.
"Are there no prisons?" said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. "Are there no workhouses?"
The bell struck twelve
An Unpopular Viewpoint
I was going through some older writing and found the article below. I wrote it in 2005 during the time when we lived in Topeka. My background is in Human Resources, although I don't work in that capacity at this time. Topeka was going through a ballot process to determine whether or not to make homosexuality a protected class in Topeka, at least in terms of hiring decisions.
My viewpoint is not a popular one among Christians. I have received some of the harshest criticism ever from Christians because of the opinions I express below. I expect to receive more by reprinting this article. So why reprint it?
Because I believe the greater truth (beyond the homosexual issue raised here) remains very pertinent in defining who Christians are and how Christians are perceived by others. We are to be a "peculiar people". That doesn't necessarily mean that we are to do our best to alienate others; on the contrary, we are to strive to have "good report" from those outside of the faith.
The homosexual issue is but one of a host of issues that Christians seem to have mis-handled over the years, ignoring clear teaching from the Holy Writ. God help us bring honor and glory to Him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As the whole world by now knows, Topeka voted this week on whether or not to rescind the action of the Topeka City Council when they approved placing homosexuals into a protected class regarding hiring. The protected class status may also apply to housing and other areas…I don’t know for sure. The vote was rather close, but the voters affirmed the action of the Council. We now have one more protected class in the City of Topeka.
Conservative Christians, by and large, came out on the side of not offering legal protection to homosexuals. The more politically moderate or liberal Christians (yes, those people really exist) may have voted either way. The whole community was polarized, however, by the vote. National news media were here and much to-do was made of the whole situation.
You know, the really sad part of all of this is that there needs to be protected class status for homosexuals (or any other persons) at all. What have we done as a society to cause honest, God-fearing people in positions of authority to conclude that this society needs to put legal protections in place benefiting homosexuals, women, people of color, the aged, or whoever else has been afforded that status?
The short answer: we have discriminated as a society against women, people of color, the aged, the homosexual, and others in our hiring processes and in other areas. And we have done it so much that honest, thinking people are now saying, “Enough.” Even those who wear the name Christian are not innocent, and in fact may be some of the more blatant offenders over the years.
Since I am a Human Resources professional, I’ll use hiring as an illustration. Why, in heaven’s name, would I as an H/R professional pass over a qualified individual that I am certain will do a competent, decent job for me in favor of someone less qualified and less experienced, just because the more qualified person is a woman, or Hispanic, or a homosexual?
Isn’t it inherently in my best interests and in the best interests of the company for which I am hiring that I place the most qualified candidate in the position? Why would I even think of doing any differently? And if I am a Christian, I am even more duty-bound to “do good to all men” and do the best job for my employer that I possibly can. To do anything else is shortsighted, narrow, bigoted, and foolish.
As a Christian Human Resources professional, why would I discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation if I don’t also discriminate on the basis of whether or not the person is cohabiting, an adulterer (either male or female), had a child out of wedlock, had sex under the age of 16 (that’s rape in Kansas regardless of consent), or had an abortion? Why don’t I discriminate based on whether or not that person has broken one of the Ten Commandments, or has failed to love the Lord, or love his neighbor? Why do I single out the homosexual for special discrimination?
Could it be that I don’t really think that adultery or cohabitation is as heinous a sin as homosexuality? Could it be that I as a Christian actually think that some sins are not soul-threatening and others are? Could it be that I am “too close” to the “heterosexual” sins of cohabitation, premarital sex, or adultery to be objective? Could it be that my son, daughter, niece, grandchild, or even I myself am guilty of one or more of those sins?
Do you see what I’m trying to say here? I don’t condone homosexuality in any way, shape, or form. I believe that an unrepentant homosexual is in grave danger of losing his or her soul for all eternity and that I have an obligation as a Christian to lovingly teach and encourage repentance and right living. But to single out the homosexual for special discrimination, while glossing over or ignoring other sinful activities that also will cause grave danger to the soul, is (and I’ll repeat) shortsighted, narrow, bigoted, and foolish.
We, by and large, have as a society made our collective bed. And we as Christians have been some of the worst “makers” of that bed. And now we, as a society, and as Christians, have to lie in it.
My viewpoint is not a popular one among Christians. I have received some of the harshest criticism ever from Christians because of the opinions I express below. I expect to receive more by reprinting this article. So why reprint it?
Because I believe the greater truth (beyond the homosexual issue raised here) remains very pertinent in defining who Christians are and how Christians are perceived by others. We are to be a "peculiar people". That doesn't necessarily mean that we are to do our best to alienate others; on the contrary, we are to strive to have "good report" from those outside of the faith.
The homosexual issue is but one of a host of issues that Christians seem to have mis-handled over the years, ignoring clear teaching from the Holy Writ. God help us bring honor and glory to Him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As the whole world by now knows, Topeka voted this week on whether or not to rescind the action of the Topeka City Council when they approved placing homosexuals into a protected class regarding hiring. The protected class status may also apply to housing and other areas…I don’t know for sure. The vote was rather close, but the voters affirmed the action of the Council. We now have one more protected class in the City of Topeka.
Conservative Christians, by and large, came out on the side of not offering legal protection to homosexuals. The more politically moderate or liberal Christians (yes, those people really exist) may have voted either way. The whole community was polarized, however, by the vote. National news media were here and much to-do was made of the whole situation.
You know, the really sad part of all of this is that there needs to be protected class status for homosexuals (or any other persons) at all. What have we done as a society to cause honest, God-fearing people in positions of authority to conclude that this society needs to put legal protections in place benefiting homosexuals, women, people of color, the aged, or whoever else has been afforded that status?
The short answer: we have discriminated as a society against women, people of color, the aged, the homosexual, and others in our hiring processes and in other areas. And we have done it so much that honest, thinking people are now saying, “Enough.” Even those who wear the name Christian are not innocent, and in fact may be some of the more blatant offenders over the years.
Since I am a Human Resources professional, I’ll use hiring as an illustration. Why, in heaven’s name, would I as an H/R professional pass over a qualified individual that I am certain will do a competent, decent job for me in favor of someone less qualified and less experienced, just because the more qualified person is a woman, or Hispanic, or a homosexual?
Isn’t it inherently in my best interests and in the best interests of the company for which I am hiring that I place the most qualified candidate in the position? Why would I even think of doing any differently? And if I am a Christian, I am even more duty-bound to “do good to all men” and do the best job for my employer that I possibly can. To do anything else is shortsighted, narrow, bigoted, and foolish.
As a Christian Human Resources professional, why would I discriminate on the basis of sexual orientation if I don’t also discriminate on the basis of whether or not the person is cohabiting, an adulterer (either male or female), had a child out of wedlock, had sex under the age of 16 (that’s rape in Kansas regardless of consent), or had an abortion? Why don’t I discriminate based on whether or not that person has broken one of the Ten Commandments, or has failed to love the Lord, or love his neighbor? Why do I single out the homosexual for special discrimination?
Could it be that I don’t really think that adultery or cohabitation is as heinous a sin as homosexuality? Could it be that I as a Christian actually think that some sins are not soul-threatening and others are? Could it be that I am “too close” to the “heterosexual” sins of cohabitation, premarital sex, or adultery to be objective? Could it be that my son, daughter, niece, grandchild, or even I myself am guilty of one or more of those sins?
Do you see what I’m trying to say here? I don’t condone homosexuality in any way, shape, or form. I believe that an unrepentant homosexual is in grave danger of losing his or her soul for all eternity and that I have an obligation as a Christian to lovingly teach and encourage repentance and right living. But to single out the homosexual for special discrimination, while glossing over or ignoring other sinful activities that also will cause grave danger to the soul, is (and I’ll repeat) shortsighted, narrow, bigoted, and foolish.
We, by and large, have as a society made our collective bed. And we as Christians have been some of the worst “makers” of that bed. And now we, as a society, and as Christians, have to lie in it.
Friday, December 11, 2009
More From the Past
Last blog I talked some about memories that were triggered by things that I have around the house. Several of those things have to do with tools and the like, as Dad was a farmer and a heating and plumbing man. He had a lot of those kinds of things and I either bought or inherited several of them.
One thing I didn’t mention is something I don’t have in Wichita, but would like to bring here some day. It’s a 1951 (although the sales sheet says it’s a1952) Minneapolis Moline model U tractor. Right now it’s at my cousin’s place in the country about 40 miles from here. One of these days, I’d like to have a wrecker truck bring it up here and I’d try to do some restoration on it.
The mechanics are relatively simple and parts are fairly easy to obtain. I don’t think it would take a lot of restoration other than reversing the effects of sitting outside for the past 10 years or so. Engine work would be first, and the transmission would possibly have to be drained and refilled with 90 weight oil. There would be axle seals that are leaking, brakes that need to be rebuilt, and other such, but overall it would be, I think, a good thing to do.
I couldn’t very well take it out on Kellogg or Pawnee, but it would be good to hear it run again. It has a rather unique sound and I could even now probably recognize it immediately, even though I haven’t heard it in ten years. Those kinds of memories just don’t go away.
What would I do with it? I don’t have a clue. What would my kids or my family do with it when I am gone? I don’t have a clue on that one, either. It wouldn’t matter much to me. I’m sure that one of these days, either sooner or later, it will meet the fate of many such tractors and end up in a salvage yard or in some museum. It’s work days are over.
I can’t begin to put on paper the memories this blog has dredged up. As someone who spent time on not only that tractor, but also on a similar make, but larger model, those memories loom large. I have to wonder, though, as I recall several things right now, how we ever made it as well as we did back then. We really did do things on baling wire and prayer (so to speak) and also did things that nowadays would be considered grossly unsafe. Yet here I am, alive and in one piece. Amazing.
One of these days, I may tell of one specific memory that I have of this tractor, a 1961 Ford pickup, an 18 foot low-boy. homemade two wheel trailer, and a springtooth. Speaking of Ford pickups, I remember we had a 1951 red Ford pickup that had a (then) optional heater over in the passenger compartment. On a mildly cool day, the heater barely would keep the cab semi-warm. On cold days, it kept the icicles from forming on your nose, but that was about it.
The heater had doors on it that you would close to make the air go up to the defroster, but which never worked very well in really cold weather. Of course the wipers, being vacuum operated, didn’t work well either. It was a real adventure to see anything outside in winter weather…more than once was the window down and Dad would look out it to see where we were and where we were going. Aahh, those were the good old days!!
One thing I didn’t mention is something I don’t have in Wichita, but would like to bring here some day. It’s a 1951 (although the sales sheet says it’s a1952) Minneapolis Moline model U tractor. Right now it’s at my cousin’s place in the country about 40 miles from here. One of these days, I’d like to have a wrecker truck bring it up here and I’d try to do some restoration on it.
The mechanics are relatively simple and parts are fairly easy to obtain. I don’t think it would take a lot of restoration other than reversing the effects of sitting outside for the past 10 years or so. Engine work would be first, and the transmission would possibly have to be drained and refilled with 90 weight oil. There would be axle seals that are leaking, brakes that need to be rebuilt, and other such, but overall it would be, I think, a good thing to do.
I couldn’t very well take it out on Kellogg or Pawnee, but it would be good to hear it run again. It has a rather unique sound and I could even now probably recognize it immediately, even though I haven’t heard it in ten years. Those kinds of memories just don’t go away.
What would I do with it? I don’t have a clue. What would my kids or my family do with it when I am gone? I don’t have a clue on that one, either. It wouldn’t matter much to me. I’m sure that one of these days, either sooner or later, it will meet the fate of many such tractors and end up in a salvage yard or in some museum. It’s work days are over.
I can’t begin to put on paper the memories this blog has dredged up. As someone who spent time on not only that tractor, but also on a similar make, but larger model, those memories loom large. I have to wonder, though, as I recall several things right now, how we ever made it as well as we did back then. We really did do things on baling wire and prayer (so to speak) and also did things that nowadays would be considered grossly unsafe. Yet here I am, alive and in one piece. Amazing.
One of these days, I may tell of one specific memory that I have of this tractor, a 1961 Ford pickup, an 18 foot low-boy. homemade two wheel trailer, and a springtooth. Speaking of Ford pickups, I remember we had a 1951 red Ford pickup that had a (then) optional heater over in the passenger compartment. On a mildly cool day, the heater barely would keep the cab semi-warm. On cold days, it kept the icicles from forming on your nose, but that was about it.
The heater had doors on it that you would close to make the air go up to the defroster, but which never worked very well in really cold weather. Of course the wipers, being vacuum operated, didn’t work well either. It was a real adventure to see anything outside in winter weather…more than once was the window down and Dad would look out it to see where we were and where we were going. Aahh, those were the good old days!!
Saturday, December 05, 2009
Reminders
In and around our home, I have several items that remind me of times past and gone. I’m not sure why things like this continue to hold importance in our lives, but they do. Somehow they remind us of our heritage, our history, and our roots.
On the top of the partial wall that separates the kitchen from the living area, I have placed our American Flyer electric train set, or at least part of it. I say “our” because it belongs to all of us kids in a very real sense. Back in the mid 50’s, Mom and Dad gave it to us kids as a Christmas gift. About 25 years ago, I added much more track, switches, and cars to the set. It still runs, and now reminds us of Christmases past.
The top of the refrigerator has an old Zenith radio sitting on it. It’s an AM/FM receiver with the Armstrong system of FM demodulation. It’s tubes, of course, except for the rectifier and dates from the late (I think) 1940’s. It sat on the refrigerator at home when I was a child, and also spent time on the piano in the living room. It was on that radio that I heard the “Big Jon and Sparkie” radio show. See http://www.otrcat.com/bigjonandsparkie-p-1093.html for more on that old time show.
I took that radio to electronics school back in the late 1960’s and replaced some parts, including the power supply capacitors and some tubes. It works fine after some work a few months ago.
Out back, on a tree at the edge of the park that is behind our home, I put a wren house that I think I built many years ago. It had been on a post behind our house where we raised our family. A day or two before we closed on the sale of that property a year or so ago, I went down there and retrieved that wren house, which had wrens virtually every year that we were there. I painted it and tightened it up a little, and it now is in our back yard.
On the side of one of our kitchen cabinets I have hung a match holder. It holds the wooden matches that come in a box. It used to hang in that same house where we raised our family right beside the back door on the wall. It hails from at least the 1950’s, I think, and I recall it as a child, hanging right there by the back door. I even have the strike anywhere matches in it…something that is getting increasingly hard to find.
Out in the garage, I have more things of Dad’s than I can mention. Toolboxes, wrenches, and even a workbench came from the home place and are in my memories. Probably one of the larger things I have is a storage thing made out of wood, separated into probably 40 or 50 compartments. It’s heavier than the dickens, and has been lugged around more than I want to think about.
But the thing that sets it apart is that I remember this particular item holding plumbing fittings in my uncle’s hardware store. Dad worked for him in plumbing and heating, and I spent a lot of time there, even getting plumbing fittings out of this thing in preparation to going on a plumbing job with Dad. It’s other claim to fame is that Dad wrote his initials on it, and they are still visible.
I wonder sometimes why I have carried that thing all over Kansas. Probably for the same reason I’ve carried an anvil all over Kansas…one that belonged to my grandfather…one I remember being in his barn years ago. And probably for the same reason I’ve carried the workbench that Dad had built for me, and the tools and tool boxes and the gas funnel, gas cans, a wooden six foot ladder, and other things. They are a part of who I am and where I was. They have genuine links to things that are nothing more than neurons in my head that have been modified in a certain way to enable those things we call memories. They put meat and bones on those memories and make them real. They ground me and remind me of who I am.
On the top of the partial wall that separates the kitchen from the living area, I have placed our American Flyer electric train set, or at least part of it. I say “our” because it belongs to all of us kids in a very real sense. Back in the mid 50’s, Mom and Dad gave it to us kids as a Christmas gift. About 25 years ago, I added much more track, switches, and cars to the set. It still runs, and now reminds us of Christmases past.
The top of the refrigerator has an old Zenith radio sitting on it. It’s an AM/FM receiver with the Armstrong system of FM demodulation. It’s tubes, of course, except for the rectifier and dates from the late (I think) 1940’s. It sat on the refrigerator at home when I was a child, and also spent time on the piano in the living room. It was on that radio that I heard the “Big Jon and Sparkie” radio show. See http://www.otrcat.com/bigjonandsparkie-p-1093.html for more on that old time show.
I took that radio to electronics school back in the late 1960’s and replaced some parts, including the power supply capacitors and some tubes. It works fine after some work a few months ago.
Out back, on a tree at the edge of the park that is behind our home, I put a wren house that I think I built many years ago. It had been on a post behind our house where we raised our family. A day or two before we closed on the sale of that property a year or so ago, I went down there and retrieved that wren house, which had wrens virtually every year that we were there. I painted it and tightened it up a little, and it now is in our back yard.
On the side of one of our kitchen cabinets I have hung a match holder. It holds the wooden matches that come in a box. It used to hang in that same house where we raised our family right beside the back door on the wall. It hails from at least the 1950’s, I think, and I recall it as a child, hanging right there by the back door. I even have the strike anywhere matches in it…something that is getting increasingly hard to find.
Out in the garage, I have more things of Dad’s than I can mention. Toolboxes, wrenches, and even a workbench came from the home place and are in my memories. Probably one of the larger things I have is a storage thing made out of wood, separated into probably 40 or 50 compartments. It’s heavier than the dickens, and has been lugged around more than I want to think about.
But the thing that sets it apart is that I remember this particular item holding plumbing fittings in my uncle’s hardware store. Dad worked for him in plumbing and heating, and I spent a lot of time there, even getting plumbing fittings out of this thing in preparation to going on a plumbing job with Dad. It’s other claim to fame is that Dad wrote his initials on it, and they are still visible.
I wonder sometimes why I have carried that thing all over Kansas. Probably for the same reason I’ve carried an anvil all over Kansas…one that belonged to my grandfather…one I remember being in his barn years ago. And probably for the same reason I’ve carried the workbench that Dad had built for me, and the tools and tool boxes and the gas funnel, gas cans, a wooden six foot ladder, and other things. They are a part of who I am and where I was. They have genuine links to things that are nothing more than neurons in my head that have been modified in a certain way to enable those things we call memories. They put meat and bones on those memories and make them real. They ground me and remind me of who I am.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Longer Days
A couple of days ago, I was driving around in town with my window down and my arm hanging on the window frame. I know I probably looked like a Bubba doing that, but it was so great. I knew that the next day would usher in some cold air, and I probably wouldn’t be doing that again for awhile.
True enough, the cold has come. We aren’t in the frigid zone yet, but we are plenty cool for this time of the year. I’m also hearing rumors of measurable snow (these days, that can be as little as ¼ of an inch) coming next week some time.
For those of us who like the warmer weather, there is a bright spot to all of this. In less than three weeks, the days will be as short as they’re going to be for the year, and will start to grow longer. Along with that will eventually come warmer temperatures, although the temps seem to lag the days by a couple of months or so.
Here’s hoping for those longer days.
True enough, the cold has come. We aren’t in the frigid zone yet, but we are plenty cool for this time of the year. I’m also hearing rumors of measurable snow (these days, that can be as little as ¼ of an inch) coming next week some time.
For those of us who like the warmer weather, there is a bright spot to all of this. In less than three weeks, the days will be as short as they’re going to be for the year, and will start to grow longer. Along with that will eventually come warmer temperatures, although the temps seem to lag the days by a couple of months or so.
Here’s hoping for those longer days.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
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.
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.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
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).
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).
Sunday, November 15, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
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.
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.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
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.
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.
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