Category: Life

Gobble, Gobble

Seems like I was just mowing the lawn and then bang! Here we are with snow on the ground and the first of two great holidays approaching. A time for all Americans to stop their labor, reflect, and shop.

I’m old enough to remember when Thanksgiving used to be, ya know, a holiday. People got the day off from work, maybe the next day too, and gathered with friends and family to celebrate the many blessings God showers on us all.

Now, all we hear is Black Friday this and Black Monday that. Normally sane-looking people camp in front of stores overnight to get the best deal on the latest crappy, must-have Christmas gift. I guess it’s really worse now, as some retail outlets are staying open 24 hours to accommodate the madness. I feel sorry for the people who have to work in those stores, separated as they are from the joys of home and family that others take for granted on this day.

Look, I’m as big a fan of free-market capitalism as you’re likely to find, but there’s no denying the inherent motive of greed and acquisitiveness at work underneath it all, which if unchecked by some sort of corresponding altruism and decency, coarsens and degrades our society.

Consumerism 2

I’m sure you know that the word “holiday” is a verbal corruption of  holy day. “Holy” means sacred or set apart. Granted, Thanksgiving is a secular holy day, but that does not detract from the sacredness of its intent: to give thanks to God for all that we have, especially our lives. When we fail to set apart days for reflection and celebration, or make the ones we do observe just like the other 364, we ultimately lose some of our humanity.

So if you find yourself in a store on Thursday or Friday, give a thought to the people working there. Wish them happiness before you leave, and when you sit down to carve your bird, thank God for all that you have because we all have so much more than we deserve.

I am thankful for every one of you who faithfully stop by to read my dribblings!

God bless you and yours this holiday season!

May I Go Off About Something?

Why am I asking? It’s my blog.

Since it’s Election Day, I think we coddled Americans could use a reminder that the rest of the world isn’t like Pleasant Valley, USA. When we chose not to think about it, turn the channel, fail to pray, or vote, we cede more territory to that evil.

We—and by “we,” I mean the civilized world—are facing a battle for existence whether we want to admit it or not. That battle has its focus in radical Islam,  aided and abetted by the rise of moral relativism, selfishness, and apathy among the “civilized.”

The worst degradations man is capable of come from benighted hearts hardened not by devotion to the true God, but the idol of religious legalism and intolerance, a warped religion devoted to a god made in man’s image. Is it strange that when man worships himself, the creature instead of the Creator, he will eventually become a beast?

This is the world they wish to impose on us.


How can I fight against this? 1) Pray. God hears you. 2) Vote. Elect men and women who share your vision for a strong country built on God-given truth, common decency, and freedom for all its citizens.

Go Vote!

printelect-i-voted-today1If you haven’t already, make sure you take some time to head down to your local polling place to vote. It doesn’t take long and it’s the one freedom we enjoy that allows average Jane’s and Joe’s to make a difference.

Yes you. YOU make a difference.

Besides, if you don’t vote, you don’t get to bitch later.

Uh oh…

myfortuneSo I finish my egg drop soup and reach for the non-fortune, fortune cookie they always give you to see what inane drivel it contains.

I crack it open and…nothing.

What does this mean? Should I be worried?

Given the time of year, I was immediately reminded of poor Charlie Brown trick-or-treating with the gang and then comparing the “take” afterward.

At least he got a rock!

 

The Green-Eyed Monster

green-eyed-monster
No, not this.

I mean envy, jealousy, feelings of bitterness over something someone else has or does. Being a writer, I fight with this little beast regularly, as in:

“Oh, you just got your book of vampire erotica published? Good for you!”

Followed by a sotto voce, “You miserable, talentless hack!”

And I hate myself for it.

As if that were not bad enough, along with being a writer—perhaps because of it—I’m also a deadbeat, which means I listen to a lot of sports radio throughout a typical day. The only upside to this habit is that it gives me plenty of opportunity to peer beneath the nasty under-beerbelly of the human condition.

Well lemme tell you: ’round these parts, there’s been an explosion of green-eyed monsterism on display lately.

Continue reading “The Green-Eyed Monster”

Showing Up

overcome-writers-blockI’ve been here for hours.
My head feels stuffed like the arms of my chair.
Puffy and tightly bound.

Nothing’s getting in. Nothing’s getting out.
Thinking is an effort.
Hell, everything’s an effort.

Even writing.

I don’t mean building stories out of connected ideas.
Carefully constructing sentences with proper syntax, grammar and spelling,
Or selecting words that best express and enfold layers of meaning.

No, I mean the physical act of writing.

Making the pen form letters,
By moving my hand with some semblance of coordination.
Scribbling something legible, rather than lopsided, blue blobs.

My cat sits at my feet, watching with a puzzled expression.
Does she sense my frustration?
Cats don’t get frustrated so how could she sense it in me?

She meows loudly.
“C’mon!” she cries, “You’re not doing anything productive! Feed me!”

I ignore her, trying to concentrate.
Her meows become increasingly strident,
But I must carry on. I must make the effort.

Who is it that said that eighty percent of life is just showing up?
Well “showing up” is making my head hurt.
It’s hard to breathe.

Owww!

To add injury to her many insults, she just bit me.
All right. Fine. I’ll feed you.
Then at least one of us will be happy.

Never mind writing, showing up is hard!

Same time tomorrow, then?

Is it too late to go to McDonalds?

A little palate-cleanser—ahem—to take our minds off the weightier things in life. Here’s a bunch of kids who have lunch at the swankiest place in New York.

Keep your eye on the blonde boy in the blazer and striped shirt…

I will always be grateful to my dear old dad for making me try things when I was growing up. His rules were simple: Try it. If you don’t like it, don’t eat it. But try it.

h/t Ace