We are fallible little beasties.

We misinterpret a lot and I believe we have for eons and many of us misinterpret the same things today that our ancestors and their ancestors misinterpreted, even without the benefit of new forms of communication which make miscommunication so much easier.

How many of us for example learned the first commandment this way:

'You shall have no other gods before Me.' ?

All you need to do is Google the ten commandments and you'll likely find a couple zillion places that list that as the first commandment.

It's a matter of interpretation I suppose...misinterpretation in my mind. Which leads me to this story I've been waiting to write...

His ring is silver and shiny. It is new, bought to commemorate a relationship. An anniversary gift to himself. An anniversary of death.

That's not what it really symbolizes to me but that's sort of how he explained it during one of our most recent breakfast conversations. He didn't really have an explanation since the act of buying the ring runs completely counter to the words and feelings he's been unleashing and unloading on me week after week...for more than a year.

The ring is new but the conversations are old. He tells me how he is doing better and then minutes later he's rehashing the same bitter memories. His now dead wife wronged him. The pain from her last actions has caused him to doubt the validity of their entire relationship. She died without seeming to care about him. Her depraved children from a previous marriage stepped all over his grief, robbed him of the opportunity to mourn and raped him of the good memories. The echoes of suffering which never seem to fade.

Oh! He is doing fine!

He always is for the first four or five minutes of our talks, but moments later the pain bubbles back to the top, no matter how I try to steer the conversation to any other topic. It's like watching your friend repeatedly rip the scab off a wound every time you start to notice a semblance of healing.

Every week he is over it...every week he reminds me about everything he is over.

Every week I wonder if he'll ever actually get over any of it.

I no longer try to rephrase my responses, find a new analogy to offer him counsel. I've tried everything I know, so now I only try to be certain I get the message in. I remind him how well he is doing, how much better he is than he was a year ago, how few real worries he has, that there's no telling what the future may hold, that he has to be open to seeing God's blessings.

These things are true. He's going to church, meeting new people, staying active. His health is good, his finances great...but his heart remains shattered.

Sometimes he will tear up as he tells me of his daily conversations with God. He prays every day for God to send him someone with whom to share his life. He trembles at the prospect of living the rest of his life alone.

During our most recent breakfast, he is fiddling with that new shiny ring on his right hand. A simple silver band with a cross.



It's an oddity really. He was never especially religious. He is Jewish, although in the 15 years I've known him he's never been a practicing Jew. His dead wife was Baptist.

Years ago, at least for a little while, they attended services together at a Messianic Temple. He drifted away from that until his wife was dying. Then he joined the Baptist church she began attending. When she started losing her battle for a grip on earth, he quickly lost faith in church.

He left the Baptist church when his wife died...telling me it was because of the memories.

Some months ago, he called me excitedly to say he was joining a Methodist church. I was happy for him, a little befuddled, but he had apparently found community. This week he told me he really joined because "they had a single's group." He also confessed he had stopped going to that church and started attending one of the giant churches in town...the Methodist's single's group was full of "old women."

Church or Temple has never really been anything but a "place" to him...a place where he at least wasn't alone, and he has been lonely. Yet despite not cultivating any relationships with women, he was cultivating a relationship with God...perhaps never inside any formal place of worship...but at night, crying aloud, begging God for a chance for happiness again.

I don't think he's realized that relationship, at least not fully. We pray together. I've learned to pray during our meals since he can tend to send up quite a prayer and let God in for what's usually my normal dose of 'unloading'...and my food gets cold.

There is much he doesn't understand. He wants God to tell him why his wife died and why she seemingly treated him so poorly after all their years together. He wants to know if his wife went to Heaven.

Like all of us he has questions for God which only God can answer.

Week after week, I've attempted to provide a steady force feeding of reminders that he should trust in God, look to the future, cherish the good memories, forgive, unburden himself of the past, dwell less on what he no longer has, and thank God more for all the blessings which surround him.

In all honesty, my menu for "moving on" has never seemed to satisfy his hunger. It's all I can offer, a recipe of hope.

He was better the last time we shared a meal. He was happy and I knew why because he had called me the night before and told me, sparing few details. He has found love again. A woman who 'gets' him, tolerates him, needs him but can be independent of him. Their relationship is moving very fast and today I learned they plan to marry in January.

I whole heartedly endorsed his relationship over that breakfast meeting, and his marriage plans during our phone call today. He's in his 60's, life is too short and can end too soon. Take a chance, cover your bases but reach for it all. It's out there, but you have to reach for it.

As we scarfed down our food that day I barely had the chance to speak as he told me all about this new woman in his life, how perfect she is, how much better he is...and finally I saw that he understood how time yields perspective.

It was then he showed me the ring. It was an odd transition. From a new love to a dead love to a new ring marking an anniversary of death. I understood it. I'm not sure he did. I'm still not sure he does.

As we talked today and he told me of his wedding plans, he said he barely thinks of 'her' - his dead wife - at all these days. Well, maybe once in a while, but he doesn't tear up...much. He's not angry...or at least as angry.

I mentioned to him quietly that even when he puts a new ring on his hand in a few months and on the hand of his new bride, he should still wear that other 'new' ring on his other hand as he does now.

I'm not sure he understood why. I'm not sure he will. We misinterpret so many things.

Yes, his wife died and it was a terrible death and the circumstances that followed were evil in how he was haunted by the final memories.

Yet that ring...that ring is a testament to a relationship that ended AND a relationship that is really unexplored and unlimited. Not the relationship with his soon to be wife. His relationship with his Creator.

There are blessings all around us. All of us. Everyday.

How we look at the world, head up or head down, dictates how or whether we see them.

My friend is amazingly blessed. He's realizing that now. I hope as his relationship grows with his new wife, he won't misinterpret the first commandment.

"I am the LORD your God. You shall have no other gods before Me."

That's the way I interpret the first commandment. It doesn't begin with"You shall " It begins with, "I am the LORD your God"

Maybe He should have been more clear, "l am your loving God. I created you. Nice to meet you, I want a relationship with you, Please don't ever overlook the very first words I spoke to you. I want this relationship to last for all eternity. Stick with Me won't you? You'll be amazed at the blessings you'll see when you do."

That's a lot to fit on a tablet I suppose.

Amy is in Ohio for the wedding of yet another nephew (I think I've run out of nephews to marry off now) so I spent the weekend watching TV, ignoring the lawn, and um...watching TV.
Most of the time I was joined by our youngest and largest hound, Gabby, who likes to lounge almost as much as much as I do.



Once she settles down from the excitement of jumping on the bed or couch, Gabby is usually content to sit there and watch a movie or whatever I'm viewing. She did object to "Snakes on a Plane" and I can't blame her, I only made it about 10 minutes in and then thought "cleaning the kitchen would be better than this." She also didn't tolerate the Cowboy's game...they learn so fast (sigh).

Gabby is a slightly gendered confused (soon she's going to be gender neutral) terrier mix whom we 'inherited' from a former resident we threw out for being an indecent human being. She likes to roll around and get dirty...chew on almost anything everything, and generally see what she can get away with...but she's not prissy.

I noticed this morning that in the Fort Worth area over the weekend they had "Barktoberfest."

You can see the slide show at the Fort Worth Star Telegram site, but let's just say Gabby wouldn't have fit in.

Photo credit:Star-Telegram/Bruce Maxwell

I barely have the patience to get the clogs of mud out of her claws...the idea of "painting" her toes makes me believe a lot of folks are howlin' at the moon a bit too much.

They need to find better things to occupy their time... like watching TV and ignoring the lawn.

About the previous post:

When I started writing here some 6 years ago it was my private little space. I write a lot, but much of what I write is dictated by circumstance and facts and my job. Writing a "blog" was a "release" where I could write whatever I wanted, within certain limits.

For a large part of that initial time, Amy was very ill and I was struggling and writing was one of the few things that kept me sane (or kept up the appearance of sanity). A few people read what I wrote and we had this small community which seemed very intimate.

Then, for a number reasons, the blog picked up readership. That was exciting but also somewhat limiting. I liked the idea of "being popular" - who doesn't? - but after a while knowing there was an "audience" for what I wrote hampered me somewhat. I got over that, realizing no one in their right mind came here looking for wisdom, and all was well.

In recent months, okay let's call it a year or so, I've been busy with a lot of other stuff and writing for the blog became something "on my to do list."

Yeah, kiss of death...I meaning cleaning the garage is on my "to do" list...and it's been there for at least a decade.

Also Amy and I went through some very tumultuous times with friends, people we invited into our home, and folks who asked for our help and then wigged out. Some of those situations became ugly and I realized that although I wanted to write about them, it might only make the situations worse.

Hence my dilemma. Writing as a "release" gradually was replaced by writing as a "responsibility." Plus, there are so many topics that are "off limits" for one reason or another, that my little private place to unburden myself, became a burden in and of itself.

Unfortunately a number of the people we have befriended, guided, prayed with and counseled who then went nuts (yeah, we're rethinking whether God really wants us to counsel anyone) use this blog's comment area or the link to my email on the blog to vent their seemingly endless and rather vicious amounts of emotional debris and denial. That has only added to my growing disdain for the blog itself. Who needs this?

Well, truth is I need this...but I don't need other folks psychological baggage, nor do I want to spend my time tiptoeing around my thoughts fearing that they might trigger another outburst from someone whom we've done everything possible to help, only to be repeatedly beaten up for our efforts.

So, I'm going to continue to write....when I feel like it. It may be once a week, once a month or once in a blue moon.

I'll turn the comments back on...and leave my email link off ( most sober folks can figure out how to email me).

When I need to write things that might set off some headcase (although what triggers that stuff is something of a mystery), or which might be hurtful to someone close to us, I'll write that elsewhere...some new private place.

We'll see what happens.

I'm taking this blog "semi-private" for the time being. Not exactly sure how I'm going to accomplish that, I may just move it and adopt different software.

It seems creepy, mentally disturbed individuals - most with substance abuse problems - are unable to remember my email address when they stagger home from the bar, so they come to this blog and then click on what used to be the "Contact Me" link.

I'm tired of reading the stuff from these folks. It's hateful and twisted. Frankly it's a crappy way to start the day.

Not like I'm writing here much anyway. I may go to an invitation only blog - set up with another email address. Not sure yet.

Actually I'm not sure if anyone is even going to be able to read this post following the template and formative changes I've just made.

I do know that God will forgive me for moving on with my life and in the process ridding myself of the blathering of people who can't seem to remember reality and find it easier to write screeds to me than to forgive themselves.

Labels: Dr Phil's Follies

...is arteries hardening.

The Dallas Morning News has the results of the annual contest among food vendors at the upcoming Texas State Fair. The basic criteria is your "food" (and I use that term lightly...well, lightly may not be the right word) is that the "food" must be fried.



If you watch this without wanting to add a salad to your next meal...then you're ready to wave to Big Tex come October, and/or a coronary bypass.

The complete list of "winners"...

Best taste

Chicken-Fried Bacon; vendor: Glen Kusak, Yoakum Packing

Most creative

Fried Banana Split; vendor: Shirley Weiss, Auto Grill

Other finalists

?Fernie's All-American Fried Grilled Cheese Sandwich; vendor: Christi Erpillo, Dock Restaurant

?Texas Fried Jelly Bellys; vendor: Justin Martinez, Granny's Funnel Cake

?Deep Fried S'mores; vendor: Tami Stiffler

?Fire & Ice (fried pineapple creation); vendor: Abel Gonzales Jr.

?Fried Chocolate Truffles; vendor: Nick Bert Jr.

?Chocolate-Covered Strawberry Waffle Balls; vendor: Mark Zable, Belgium Wafflestand

I don't really buy these statistics...but according to this website:

******This is a previously posted piece that I felt like re-running as I keep writing stories about "unity" intermixed with nasty politics as usual *********

"A house divided against itself cannot stand." - Abraham Lincoln

"Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand. - Jesus Christ

The time has come...for revolution.

That's right...damn the threat of Gitmo. To hell with The Patriot Act. I will not back down, I will not be silenced. I am sounding the clarion call for rebellion and I do so fearlessly.

We must overthrow the enemy and my friends, the enemy has a huge head start.

The enemy has an organized army. A fortress built on a fabric of fear and reinforced with walls that can not be breached by bombs, or guns, fire, or half-hearted faith.

The enemy is well funded, well fortified and operates like a well oiled machine, sparing nothing in its' path. Its plan of attack is well honed, well operated and well proven. The enemy's assault is being waged every second of every day and has been for decades, perhaps centuries.

And we haven't noticed...or haven't cared.

Worse yet...we pay the enemy's soldiers...in fact some members of the enemy's army are actually waging war against themselves. We fund their weaponry. Hell, we cheer them on, feed on their plunder and the spoils of their war are often surrendered gladly...by us.

I want it back.

I want every damn bit of it back.

I am calling for a revolution. You can call me Che...but only if I get to wear the beret.

"Eager souls, mystics and revolutionaries, may propose to refashion the world in accordance with their dreams; but evil remains, and so long as it lurks in the secret places of the heart, utopia is only the shadow of a dream" - Nathaniel Hawthorne

I'm not kidding...and I'm not backing down. I detest playing defense.

Don't tune me out...you haven't even begun to hear and so help me God if we fail to learn to listen we all will suffer consequences so severe they will threaten every possession you have and every person you love...our planet...our existence.

Overly dramatic? I'm not kidding, I mean every word.

Some of you have already made up your minds, you've labeled me.



Label me paranoid...call me names,

"Face it, he's another conspiracy nut on the web."

"So far I think he's just long winded." - Made up people.

You would be wrong to label me...at least at this point. Okay, with the possible exception of the long-winded label.

But it's labels that are the very weapons that the enemy is using...every day, everywhere you look. You can't close your eyes to them, we can't tune it out, we can't even stop ourselves from using them! The weapons of the enemy!

Maybe I am a nut, but I'm a nut who believes there is only one thing to do...fight back.

TV does it, radio, the Internet and newspapers do it. Politicians, preachers, and Pulitzer prize winners do it. Ad men and mad men, altruists and Ayatollahs...they're all using the same weapons of war...labels.

On the face of it, it seems harmless. Labels are simple ways to categorize ...every belief you have, every dream, every value, every person...heck even every state.

Are you Blue or Red?

Not Communist red...Republican red.

If you're Republican Red than you favor big business, you vote "conservative," you are "pro-life," you are religious...not spiritual...most likely a Christian...a fundamentalist. You are pro-Israel and anti-Muslim, you don't watch Public television or listen to National Public Radio, you favor school choice, and believe all unions are corrupt. You are pro-gun, pro-military, pro-death penalty, anti-immigration, you like NASCAR, think soccer is for kids and foreigners and you don't understand hockey. You are pro-family, but think children are best seen and not heard...crying babies should be removed from the church service.

You object to paying five bucks for coffee, but you do. You are Red, and a real American. You think the poor are slackers, welfare is out of whack, and you'd home school your kids if you weren't working so hard to afford your SUV. You believe flag-burning is a real issue of monumental importance, you want prayer back in public schools and you claim to read your Bible every day, but you can't quote scripture too well. You listen to talk radio and only watch FOX news and you don't give a flying fart about trans-fats. And of course, above almost all else these days, you are certainly NOT green.

No, you can't be green if you're red. The labels clash...at least that's what the people labeled "fashionistas" and political experts tell us. Only people who are Blue can be green.

Blue people are pro-environment, pro-choice, anti-war, and want to legalize gay marriage. They believe surrender is not the same as withdrawal, red meat will rot your gut, red wine is good for you and in a pinch so is beer. You may have grown up in a trailer park, you who are Blue , though Blue people are proud to boast fluent Starbuckese while trying hard to deny that was them at the Star Trek Convention 10 years ago. Blue people vote for Democrats, and if they're not the poor, they help the poor, get down and dirty with 'em because they know it's the Red people holding them down. Unions are always good, corporations are always bad, America is usually wrong, and Hollywood is something to be admired. Blue people think they have a better chance of winning the lottery or American Idol than they do of ever being wealthy. Blue people still smoke...but only in certain Blue people places, where the family farm is being trampled by the Red people's greed.

Is that crazy?

OF COURSE THAT'S CRAZY! You think I'm really that much of a nut?

Turn in your blue badges, turn in the red badges too. Wave the white flag because you've already surrendered to people who are not dividing a house against itself....they've diced it.

I've been a reporter for more than 30 years. I have covered horrible murders. I once followed police around Denton County, Texas as they retrieved garbage bags off the sides of roadways...inside the bags were the dismembered body parts of a woman, killed by her deranged husband. I've listened to a man scream...wail at God, moments after learning his four children had been carved up by a cocaine crazed kid.

But I've never seen anything as gory as what I see on T.V. shows every week. Law & Order SVU, CSI Wherever...these shows, which are "Emmy" winners...have invaded our homes with story after story after story of depravity and deviance...each story seemingly worse than the last.

But someone is making those up. Most of our society isn't that way...those stories of horrifyingly grotesque acts of violence just don't happen. Yes, John Wayne Gacy did exist...so did Jeffrey Dahmer...but they didn't exist in our homes three nights a week...every week.

We've come to believe that those types of shows depict "reality" while programs labeled "Reality shows" are not reality...the only reality is that they are cheap to produce...and they use the enemy's favorite weapon too. They divide us...label us.

The "haves" versus the "have-nots"....grab the greed, one case away from happiness, one race or sex against another...people of faith against people of perversion...or so we're led to believe. The shows are edited. Those people are one dimensional on TV no matter what size TV you've been convinced you "have" to own by the ads that run every few minutes making you feel inferior for not "keeping up" with standards that are made up by someone in an advertising agency. In real life those people are three dimensional, unedited...and I don't believe nearly as shallow.

We're told the world "hates" America...some say it's because of George Bush (that's usually what we hear the "Blue" people are saying by the way).

We're told immigrants are a threat to our security, welfare pigs, and lazy. That's what we're told the "Red" people say...and we hear it so much we believe it.

But the people telling us those things...are they the "Red" people you know? Or the "Blue" people living next door?

Probably not...they're either politicians, or race activists, or more likely the "Perfect People" in the picture tube with the fresh breath, and sparkling white teeth, who never get bed head. No matter, all of them have their own reasons for labeling other people as "for this" or "against that" or mean or pitiful...they need to keep your attention...on them. Either to win your vote, or to get you to give them money, or to convince you to buy something that truthfully you probably don't really need.

Labels...even on a can of beans labels are not plain black letters on a white background...why?



Think!

Almost everything created by man is designed to distract you from something else...and that's the enemy's weapon.

I don't know if the world hates America because of George Bush or if they hate America because of what they see blaring into their homes...our fixation with fame, and wealth, and celebrity and labels. I don't know if the world hates America at all.

"The world" doesn't speak...people...red people, blue people, green people, media people, lots of people who are quick to lob labels speak...and while we may be bombing the wrong people in the Middle East, I can tell you with certainty we are attacking the heart of the values of people all over the world with a skewed view of our country and I can't blame them for feeling under siege, because I feel that way too.



We fought wars in places most of us have never and will never be, yet we have been and are still under unrelenting attack right here, right now. In every state, every county, ever city, and every home in America.

We are losing...badly.

So I am calling for a revolution.

A stewardship revolution.

Sign up today.

Be a good steward of your values, be they red or be they blue. Be a good steward of your money. Be a good steward of our planet. Be a good steward of your children. Be a good steward of your faith. Foremost be a good steward of your mind...be careful what you let in there, what you take as truth, and who you allow such liberties.

And be a good steward of your tongue...label less, listen more.

If we were really to do that, with all our hearts and our souls and our minds....by God Almighty, THAT would be a real revolution.

"I never considered a difference of opinion in politics, in religion, in philosophy, as cause for withdrawing from a friend." - Thomas Jefferson

"I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings." - Jesus Christ

The stuff of nightmares....

I used to lose a lot of sleep worrying about work. Specifically, I'd toss and turn fearing that when I arrived at the office before dawn I'd be greeted by the journalistic equivalent of Mother Hubbard's cupboard....no news.

I feared our team of reporters would collectively fail in their efforts to generate news stories and since I was (and still am) the last line of defense, I'd have to scramble to "find" news to keep the audio meters twitching.

I'm not sure when it was exactly, but at some point I realized that despite all my sleepless nights, and even some pretty bleak news days, my worst fears never materialized. So I stopped losing sleep over it.

Still, I'm often asked, "What do you do if there's no news?"

My standard, and now rather stale response is always, "I just make stuff up."

Today, I thought someone really was making stuff up. I read a story about a lawmaker in California - you know that state known for its intense commitment to the environment - who is seriously worried about the proliferation of hybrid cars.

Really.

At first I giggled and presumed it was some goofy satirical piece from "The Onion" or a similar website which had been mistakenly been construed as real.

Then I did a Google news search...which turned up some 300+ articles dealing with this weighty issue.

In a nutshell (nut being highly appropriate in this instance) this state lawmaker in California is worried about blind people...or "visually impaired"....sight deprived...whatever the politically correct term in California is for people who can't see.



His concern?

He's worried blind people are going to get run over by hybrid cars...because the cars are too quiet.

I am not kidding.

He's so worried in fact that members of the California legislature, representatives of organizations involved with the visually impaired, and others are going to form a committee to study this issue.

(Insert clueless leading the sightless gag here)

They are seriously talking about somehow requiring hybrid vehicles to be "noisier."

I couldn't make this up if I tried.

I really am serious.

Do a "Google News Search" for "blind hybrids" yourself if you don't believe me.

Exactly how many blind people are run over in California? Is this something that happens a lot? Are blind Californians regularly flattened by bicyclists, electric wheelchairs, and or joggers?

This has to go down as one of the silliest things I've ever heard any state lawmaker discuss, and believe me I've been around a lot of state lawmakers, but most of their livers failed before they lost this many brain cells.

Yet since I'm such a magnanimous guy who wants to save California taxpayers the expense of "studying" this crucial matter...and because I also am not in favor of any blind person being inadvertently smushed by a hybrid car, a deer, or a well muffled Zamboni...I've come up with a solution.

I couldn't bear the thought of people losing sleep worrying about how to solve this "crisis" so I put on my thinking cap and vowed not to take if off until I arrived at the answer.

Admittedly I was able to remove the cap in about 4 seconds, but maybe I'm a genius.

Here's what I came up with...(drum roll please - that's for the benefit of any blind person walking past your computer who obviously can't read over your shoulder and realize the monumental importance of my solution).

How about requiring the manufacturers of hybrid cars to put something in them to warn the apparent throngs of blind people aimlessly wandering the streets of California that vehicles are rapidly approaching which are apparently destined to mow them down?

I don't know...maybe something like....um...well, like this?



No need to thank me California. I don't want the credit. Feel free to utilize my profound wisdom gratis.

After all, I never was one to toot my own horn.

By now you have no doubt realized, read, heard that this is 8/8/8, as in August 8th, 2008. It's supposed to be a lucky day...a happy day. What? That doesn't do it?



Well, perhaps this will lift your spirits. This is also "Galactic Freedom Day!"



Yes, today the people of the world join together (at 8 p.m. "Universal" time) in a mass experiment aimed at retrieving the truth from various governments about the vast numbers of space aliens who visited/invaded/now control our planet.



As for me...I'm just happy it's Friday.