This Mothers' Day 2019, is a special day and a most unique day. Across America, Mothers' Day is the absolute busiest day for restaurants; ask any waitress or waiter. This Mother's Day children young and old will gather with the matriarchs of their families to lift them in praise and celebrate wonderful recollections.
As I head out to Sunday morning church service, I look forward to walking to the alter, kneeling and thanking God for the incredible strong and loving women in my life's journey. My Mother especially but also Grandmothers, Aunts, Daughters, Granddaughters and my own wife who continues to do a marvelous job in her Mother's role.
This will not be my primary prayer...not at all. My own heart aches for the hundreds of thousands of mother's who carry great heartache from the loss of a child. I shall pray for that mother somewhere who kept a hopeful vigil as her young child lost the fight against disease. I will whisper a prayer for that mother who prayed and worried about her soldier son and her worst fears came true. I will ask God to comfort the mother of a child who died in a auto accident or committed suicide. I will plead with God for His comforting Grace on every Mother with such emotional pain.
Finally, I will ask God to forgive a Nation which lost its moral compass on December 14, 2012, when a mentally deranged individual massacred 20 children at their first grade school classroom and that Nation (the United States) continues to do nothing to address the plethora of guns in our society and the unchecked mental illness in our midst.
May God have mercy on the souls of our elected leaders who fail to act in behalf of those most precious and vulnerable...our children. Those officials and elected leaders who ignore this unimaginable pain in a mother's heart will undoubtedly stumble into Hell.
Friday, May 10, 2019
Thursday, May 9, 2019
Ode to White Bucks
I was sitting in the Mall Courtyard waiting for my wife to finish her shopping when I noticed several teen girls passing by wearing jeans with holes. It's obvious that the holes are strategically located as part of a fashion statement. Folks from this old man's generation don't 'get it.' Nope, we were told not to wear such clothing because people would think your poor. In the same breath, mom told us to wear clean underwear in case, blah, blah...
The first ten years of my life, I was unaware and unconcerned about fashions. I thought everybody wanted to wear jeans, a white T-shirt and Chuck Taylor Converse All Star tennis shoes; everybody I knew did! About the time I hit 6th grade and certainly junior high status, I was nudged by peers to the must world of Levi's and soon thereafter 'white buck shoes.'
Those high school years demanded cord pants (a pair of both blue and brown pin stripes), St. Louis orange thread needle shoes and 'Mr B' collar shirts. The V-neck sweater and khaki pants were a wardrobe must along with buckskin brown shoes and black and white saddle shoes. The latter shoe required a confident male. Argyle socks were a must beneath tapered or pegged pants.
When my eighth grade buddy, Terry and I walked into the Majestic Theater wearing tan leather thread needles, pegged blue cord pants, a pink Mr. 'B' Shirt and a white large brim Stetson hat with a black ban, we were too much to behold!
Recently, I am reminded that my clothing fashion has come 'full circle.' Today, I'm wearing white socks inside New Balance athletic shoes, shorts and a T-shirt. Finally, once again, I don't care
so much what others think but more about how I feel.
(Touch)
Lookin' Good
The first ten years of my life, I was unaware and unconcerned about fashions. I thought everybody wanted to wear jeans, a white T-shirt and Chuck Taylor Converse All Star tennis shoes; everybody I knew did! About the time I hit 6th grade and certainly junior high status, I was nudged by peers to the must world of Levi's and soon thereafter 'white buck shoes.'
Those high school years demanded cord pants (a pair of both blue and brown pin stripes), St. Louis orange thread needle shoes and 'Mr B' collar shirts. The V-neck sweater and khaki pants were a wardrobe must along with buckskin brown shoes and black and white saddle shoes. The latter shoe required a confident male. Argyle socks were a must beneath tapered or pegged pants.
When my eighth grade buddy, Terry and I walked into the Majestic Theater wearing tan leather thread needles, pegged blue cord pants, a pink Mr. 'B' Shirt and a white large brim Stetson hat with a black ban, we were too much to behold!
Recently, I am reminded that my clothing fashion has come 'full circle.' Today, I'm wearing white socks inside New Balance athletic shoes, shorts and a T-shirt. Finally, once again, I don't care
so much what others think but more about how I feel.
(Touch)
Lookin' Good
Wednesday, May 8, 2019
Stages of 'Waiting.'
Have you given much thought to 'waiting?' Perhaps yes, perhaps no. Regardless, you and me and everybody has done a bunch of waiting in our life's journey. There is the mindless mundane waiting at stop lights, grocery lines and that ever slow descending elevator. We recall our childhood's eager waiting for Santa, birthdays and summer vacations from school. We begin getting that taste of adult kinds of waiting as we anticipate our driver's license and that passage-rights threshold of age twenty-one. Much of those teen waiting moments were in anticipation of fun with friends or that time to be with your sweetheart, all of which was carefree waiting.
The adult waiting experience became less carefree than childhood and teen years' waiting. There seem to be a greater frequency of anxious waiting. Waiting for the telephone to ring when a voice on the other end might tell you that "the job is yours." The mixed emotional excitement of the birth of a child. At that same birth-waiting one has the anxiousness of mother and baby's health and well-being upon and after delivery. Soon the parents come to understand that children bring forth their greatest joys and equally their greatest fears.
While parents are vacillating between the waiting joys and anxieties with their children, they are often introduced to a much different, vigil type waiting. A parent undergoes surgery or faces medical tests and or treatments while we wait for good news and good outcomes. There seems to be no time in our journey when times moves more at a snail's pace as it does regarding personal and family health issues.
Of course, we tell ourselves that our lack of patience when waiting causes us to miss Blessings and patience is a vital part of trusting God. Yet as often as we tell ourselves to let go and let God, we somehow seem to be in the grips of a thought that should we not be anxious and not worry, we perhaps are failing to do our part and thus lack caring.
The adult waiting experience became less carefree than childhood and teen years' waiting. There seem to be a greater frequency of anxious waiting. Waiting for the telephone to ring when a voice on the other end might tell you that "the job is yours." The mixed emotional excitement of the birth of a child. At that same birth-waiting one has the anxiousness of mother and baby's health and well-being upon and after delivery. Soon the parents come to understand that children bring forth their greatest joys and equally their greatest fears.
While parents are vacillating between the waiting joys and anxieties with their children, they are often introduced to a much different, vigil type waiting. A parent undergoes surgery or faces medical tests and or treatments while we wait for good news and good outcomes. There seems to be no time in our journey when times moves more at a snail's pace as it does regarding personal and family health issues.
Of course, we tell ourselves that our lack of patience when waiting causes us to miss Blessings and patience is a vital part of trusting God. Yet as often as we tell ourselves to let go and let God, we somehow seem to be in the grips of a thought that should we not be anxious and not worry, we perhaps are failing to do our part and thus lack caring.
Tuesday, May 7, 2019
Summertime, Summertime
In a few days, Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic grade school, which is adjacent to my backyard will close for summer vacation and with that the playground and athletic field will fall silent. No bells ringing, no children chatter and laughter...nothing but quiet. My wife and I always miss the kids during summer months.
Yesterday, after finishing garden tilling, I was seated on the backyard swing and hearing the youthful voices over my shoulder when I wondered just how different summer vacations might be for a sixth or seventh grade boy of 11-and-12 years old. I still recall those days sixty-eight summers past. There never was lacking enthusiasm for each summer day and no computers or air-conditioning to make 'inside' look more attractive than 'outside.' We were 'OUT-THE-HOUSE!'
The activities were plentiful with essentially no adult organization needed. Early morning side-street softball games required limited numbers and we had enough early risers to make it happen. Later in the morning it was Indian Ball (an original St. Louis game; look it up). In the afternoon a sandlot game surely got under way. Two week-nights were organized baseball youth leagues.
Sure we had breaks in the action...that's when we poured a bag of peanuts into a Pepsi bottle and pitched pennies or baseball cards against outside building walls and the winner was the guy whose coin/card ended closer to the wall. As night fell, we organized kick-the-can games, which could be interrupted by the hot tamale push-cart guy. No, we were not always 'good kids.' Rotten eggs found behind a grocery store was a terrible temptation as was water filled balloons. I'll leave it there.
At ages 13-to-15, we added citywide open gyms, which provided the opportunity to play basketball games against the best talent offered East of the mighty Mississippi. America Legion baseball was huge in the St. Louis metropolitan area. Of course, we were now factoring girls into the our summer schedules. Who am I kidding? They were factored in 'all seasons.' Those years before age 16, when we could get summer employment, we were gone from sun up to the supper hour and then in the backyard shooting hoops under the floodlights. Parents seemingly did not worry about our whereabouts.
Today, I cannot help but notice the absence of youth on summer sandlots and never do I hear neighborhood children voices engaged in street and sidewalk games. My own Grandkids seem to be involved in organized activities with adults explaining and managing the games. I wonder if these kids are denied developing leadership and organizational skills as a result of evaporating informal play?
Perhaps technology, air-conditioning and safety fears have softened and cheated my grandkids. School bus transportation means kids don't walk and talk much any more, instead their social networking is a text message. Interpersonal communication skills are a crap-shoot. It's much cooler inside playing 'Super Lego DC Super Villains.' No sweating. And unfortunately, parents seem to have more worries these days than in the 1940's regarding serial killers, sexual perverts and kidnappers. Mom stopped warning me about those baby-stealing Gypsies at the edge of the city once I turned eleven. I suppose she figured no body wanted a dirty grimy adolescent boy.
(Touch)
Schools Out
Yesterday, after finishing garden tilling, I was seated on the backyard swing and hearing the youthful voices over my shoulder when I wondered just how different summer vacations might be for a sixth or seventh grade boy of 11-and-12 years old. I still recall those days sixty-eight summers past. There never was lacking enthusiasm for each summer day and no computers or air-conditioning to make 'inside' look more attractive than 'outside.' We were 'OUT-THE-HOUSE!'
The activities were plentiful with essentially no adult organization needed. Early morning side-street softball games required limited numbers and we had enough early risers to make it happen. Later in the morning it was Indian Ball (an original St. Louis game; look it up). In the afternoon a sandlot game surely got under way. Two week-nights were organized baseball youth leagues.
Sure we had breaks in the action...that's when we poured a bag of peanuts into a Pepsi bottle and pitched pennies or baseball cards against outside building walls and the winner was the guy whose coin/card ended closer to the wall. As night fell, we organized kick-the-can games, which could be interrupted by the hot tamale push-cart guy. No, we were not always 'good kids.' Rotten eggs found behind a grocery store was a terrible temptation as was water filled balloons. I'll leave it there.
At ages 13-to-15, we added citywide open gyms, which provided the opportunity to play basketball games against the best talent offered East of the mighty Mississippi. America Legion baseball was huge in the St. Louis metropolitan area. Of course, we were now factoring girls into the our summer schedules. Who am I kidding? They were factored in 'all seasons.' Those years before age 16, when we could get summer employment, we were gone from sun up to the supper hour and then in the backyard shooting hoops under the floodlights. Parents seemingly did not worry about our whereabouts.
Today, I cannot help but notice the absence of youth on summer sandlots and never do I hear neighborhood children voices engaged in street and sidewalk games. My own Grandkids seem to be involved in organized activities with adults explaining and managing the games. I wonder if these kids are denied developing leadership and organizational skills as a result of evaporating informal play?
Perhaps technology, air-conditioning and safety fears have softened and cheated my grandkids. School bus transportation means kids don't walk and talk much any more, instead their social networking is a text message. Interpersonal communication skills are a crap-shoot. It's much cooler inside playing 'Super Lego DC Super Villains.' No sweating. And unfortunately, parents seem to have more worries these days than in the 1940's regarding serial killers, sexual perverts and kidnappers. Mom stopped warning me about those baby-stealing Gypsies at the edge of the city once I turned eleven. I suppose she figured no body wanted a dirty grimy adolescent boy.
(Touch)
Schools Out
Friday, May 3, 2019
Bring Back the 'Fields' of Honor.'
So much for 'The Fields' of Dreams.' Bring back 'The Fields' of Honor.' The time is right! America needs to embrace Socrates' plea, "Know Thyself." Who would not agree that our countrymen have a history of being adventurous, rugged, explorers and 'cowboys' forever? Heavens, we loved our horses so dearly that we continue in this 21st century to measure the dynamics of our autos in terms of 'horse power.' We're COWBOYS and as Cowboys we must remember the importance of honor.
People get all excited about the current state of political divisiveness and ugly wrangling. We hear our elected leaders call opponents liars, cowards and sexual predators as hate rhetoric overflows. That's not new, folks. Our American politicians have always showed their ass-side more than their Judeo-Christian side. The only thing that has changed is we no longer have dueling matches to settle the score and protect one's honor. It's time the dueling 'fields of honor' are brought back to the land of the free and the home of the brave. Damnit, Make America Great Again!
Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton settled their differences in 1804 and two years later Andrew Jackson and Charles Dickinson did likewise. Even Abe Lincoln and James Shields were prepared to exchange gun shots when the blood shed was avoided with an apology. Can you believe Mark Twain could have been killed by James Laird in a dueling match...its true. Wow! Had that happened I would have no reason to visit Hannibal, Missouri.
Well, the time is ripe in the good old USA to break out the dueling pistols and stand back-to-back!
President Trump would no longer need to ask his supporters at rallies to "knock him out, I'll pay the lawyers' fee." No sir, Trump could challenge people who offends his honor to a duel...and Joe Biden would not need to "take Trump behind the gym." With 24-7 cable news, we could all push for specific dueling square-offs. We could hold dueling events at the Super Bowl half-time and get The NRA to sponsor and provide free beer and brats. Mercy, gun sales would sky-rocket! AND, the greatest benefit coming from the return of dueling would be the riddance of some politicians, i.e. wild animals, which kill off the undesirables among them. For future phraseology reference, we will not call dueling matches a 'thinning of the herd' but instead use the phrase, 'flushing the crap.'
(Touch)
I Shot That Scondrel
People get all excited about the current state of political divisiveness and ugly wrangling. We hear our elected leaders call opponents liars, cowards and sexual predators as hate rhetoric overflows. That's not new, folks. Our American politicians have always showed their ass-side more than their Judeo-Christian side. The only thing that has changed is we no longer have dueling matches to settle the score and protect one's honor. It's time the dueling 'fields of honor' are brought back to the land of the free and the home of the brave. Damnit, Make America Great Again!
Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton settled their differences in 1804 and two years later Andrew Jackson and Charles Dickinson did likewise. Even Abe Lincoln and James Shields were prepared to exchange gun shots when the blood shed was avoided with an apology. Can you believe Mark Twain could have been killed by James Laird in a dueling match...its true. Wow! Had that happened I would have no reason to visit Hannibal, Missouri.
Well, the time is ripe in the good old USA to break out the dueling pistols and stand back-to-back!
President Trump would no longer need to ask his supporters at rallies to "knock him out, I'll pay the lawyers' fee." No sir, Trump could challenge people who offends his honor to a duel...and Joe Biden would not need to "take Trump behind the gym." With 24-7 cable news, we could all push for specific dueling square-offs. We could hold dueling events at the Super Bowl half-time and get The NRA to sponsor and provide free beer and brats. Mercy, gun sales would sky-rocket! AND, the greatest benefit coming from the return of dueling would be the riddance of some politicians, i.e. wild animals, which kill off the undesirables among them. For future phraseology reference, we will not call dueling matches a 'thinning of the herd' but instead use the phrase, 'flushing the crap.'
(Touch)
I Shot That Scondrel
Thursday, May 2, 2019
What Say You?
In these times of seemingly endless debates, I found it refreshing to get a question recently that called for a 'one-word' answer. I thought I'd pose the question to you readers. For clarification let's understand the two words, which constitutes our one-answer selection.
Christian= a person who believes in and follows the teachings of Christ.
Bigots= a person who regards or treats members of a group with hatred or intolerance.
I asked the person who posed the question: "Why do you ask?" He said, "I've always heard people refer to our country as a Christian Nation but I just wonder if we have more bigots than Christians in America."
Question: Which type person do we find mostly in America? >> Christians-or-Bigots
Of course, you may elaborate but you need not. Remember the words of Ray Charles...
"Everybody's got their own opinion, and you know I sure got mine..."
(Touch)
Its My World
Christian= a person who believes in and follows the teachings of Christ.
Bigots= a person who regards or treats members of a group with hatred or intolerance.
I asked the person who posed the question: "Why do you ask?" He said, "I've always heard people refer to our country as a Christian Nation but I just wonder if we have more bigots than Christians in America."
Question: Which type person do we find mostly in America? >> Christians-or-Bigots
Of course, you may elaborate but you need not. Remember the words of Ray Charles...
"Everybody's got their own opinion, and you know I sure got mine..."
(Touch)
Its My World
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
I See The Signs of Aging.
Since my intellect is slightly above average, I have therefore subscribed to the KISS Philosophy in all matters. That's correct, Keep It Simple Stupid is a plea for others to make the thinking at my end 'easy,' which aids in my understanding. That plea becomes a 'beg' at age eighty!
I do not find anything humorous about restaurant restrooms having indistinct figures on doors or unfamiliar names to indicate men and women. Simply state on the doors> MEN or WOMEN. I do not wish to decipher 'Blokes' and 'Shelia' on restroom doors unless I'm in Australia and please don't make me study pictures of Roosters and Hens when this old bladder is maxed out. Besides, I'm already irritated trying different objects under my restaurant table to stop it from wobbling.
Speaking of restaurants, do you readers know that Milton Hershey, the great chocolate guy built a Circular restaurant in his Hotel Hershey, which you can visit today in Hershey, Pennsylvania? Well he did and his reasoning was a bit personal. Milton Hershey was a small man in physical stature and during his world travels, Hershey believed that smaller men dinning alone were often seated in the back corners of dinning rooms in less desirable locations. Therefore, Hershey's Circular Restaurant would not have those unwanted back-in-the-corner seating places. Personally, as I've grown longer in the tooth, I prefer that inconspicuous spot that allows me to settle in with my newspaper and read my favorite section: '50-Years Ago Today,' i.e. Stan Musial inducted into National Baseball Hall of Fame on July 28, 1969. I've also noticed that during my senior years, I pay more attention to my food than my waitress; I'm getting old.
(Touch)
In Some Secluded Rendezvous
I do not find anything humorous about restaurant restrooms having indistinct figures on doors or unfamiliar names to indicate men and women. Simply state on the doors> MEN or WOMEN. I do not wish to decipher 'Blokes' and 'Shelia' on restroom doors unless I'm in Australia and please don't make me study pictures of Roosters and Hens when this old bladder is maxed out. Besides, I'm already irritated trying different objects under my restaurant table to stop it from wobbling.
Speaking of restaurants, do you readers know that Milton Hershey, the great chocolate guy built a Circular restaurant in his Hotel Hershey, which you can visit today in Hershey, Pennsylvania? Well he did and his reasoning was a bit personal. Milton Hershey was a small man in physical stature and during his world travels, Hershey believed that smaller men dinning alone were often seated in the back corners of dinning rooms in less desirable locations. Therefore, Hershey's Circular Restaurant would not have those unwanted back-in-the-corner seating places. Personally, as I've grown longer in the tooth, I prefer that inconspicuous spot that allows me to settle in with my newspaper and read my favorite section: '50-Years Ago Today,' i.e. Stan Musial inducted into National Baseball Hall of Fame on July 28, 1969. I've also noticed that during my senior years, I pay more attention to my food than my waitress; I'm getting old.
(Touch)
In Some Secluded Rendezvous
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