My daughter Katie has determined that our family should be on the Family Feud. In fact, she’s been tweeting the producers of Family Feud for months and is now on a first name basis with Gaby, one of the show's Executive Producers. So, a short video and a bunch of paperwork later our family is now in the ‘active’ file for Family Feud. The show is alive and well and is now being produced and filmed at Universal Studios in Florida! I'll update you as soon as I know 'specifics' regarding this exciting event. I'm sure it will be 'blog worthy'!
While filling out the paperwork, we were asked this very simple question: “Tell us an interesting or unusual fact about yourself.” So while thinking about what I should write, I began to realize how blessed I’ve been to be able to do some really fun and unusual things during my life. I also discovered how many stinking contests I’ve entered (and I actually managed to win a few of them). But mostly it reminded me how fleeting accomplishments can be; not only for me, but for everyone in their "life and time", no matter HOW famous you are (or were). It only takes a few short years to change a "Who's Who" to a "Who's that?" Nevertheless, for the record, here are some interesting events in my (not so famous) life that I vividly remember:
I remember first meeting Chad and Jeremy (who?). They were a part of the original British Invasion to America in the 60s and had several Top 40 hits. Some twenty years after their shooting star of fame had burnt out, they wound up playing the two leads in a show called Pump Boys and Dinettes here in Oklahoma City. I knew the director from some of my earlier days of theatre, told her I knew how to play bass, and wound up playing opposite of them (and learning to actually play the bass, electric and upright) for about an 8 week run in Oklahoma City and Tulsa. It was really a fun time in my life, it was a great show, and I can say that I starred in a show with Chad and Jeremy (who?).
I remember the rush of standing on stage at Joker's Comedy Club (where?) long before Last Comic Standing, trying my hand at stand-up during a big contest they had one year. I took first place that night, came back for the finals, and lost out to a guy I had beaten that first night, who had entered another weekly round and won HIS way into the finals. Punchline to the story? If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try to quit stuttering.
I remember auditioning for the producers of You Can Be A Star (what?) in Nashville. Long before shows like American Idol came into existence, the brand new network TNN (The Nashville Network) had a show called You Can Be A Star. I auditioned for it and made it onto the show. The problem: it really WAS a show for Country and Western singers; and although I can actually tackle that genre now, Elton John’s song ‘Country Comfort’ was not what the judges (or the audience) thought of as ‘country’! But at the time it was about the only 'country' song I knew (not counting Okie from Muskogee). So I lost out to some Loretta Lynne sound-a-like from the Louisiana Hayride (I knew I should’ve sung the ‘gospel song’ I had prepared for 'the finals'). Still, I can say that I sang on National TV on the show You Can Be A Star (what?). I’m not aware of anyone from that show making it ‘big’ (including me). It was hosted by Jim Ed Brown (who? who? who?)
I remember the dry mouth of nervousness that I had always heard about, but had never experienced until that very moment. I was in Nashville (once again), back stage at the Grand Ole Opry getting ready to walk on stage to sing ‘Cream of the Crop’ (a song I wrote that won Song of the Year from the OHA) . I had seen an ad in the newspaper (what's a newspaper?) about a Nashville Starbound Competition (once again, this was many years before ‘Idol’ appeared). On a whim, I sent them a tape, wound up going to Nashville, to the Grand Ole Opry, and out of about 120 contestants that performed over the run of the contest, I won the Grand Prize (which was a big trophy and a free recording at Dottie West studios there in Nashville). Truthfully, the rush of singing on the Grand Ole Opry stage was far better than the rush of winning first place (and Dottie West's 'studio' turned out to be less than impressive).
I remember sitting in the Green Room, getting ready to sing in front of hundreds of fellow singers/songwriters at the Loghouse (where?) at the YMCA of the Rockies (get all visions of the 'Village People' OUT of your mind). It was the late 90s, and I had gone to the Christian Artists Seminar (a really top notch Christian event always held there at the YMCA, a really beautiful resort just outside of Estes Park, Colorado). At the last minute, I decided to enter the Southern Gospel Vocalist contest (even though the deadline for entry had passed). Since it was so last minute, my name was kind of ‘written in’ on the schedule without filling out all the paperwork or even paying the entry fee. As I was getting ready to go on stage to perform for the finals (with the other two Southern Gospel singers/finalists), Cam Floria (the founder of ‘Seminar in the Rockies’) came over to me and whispered, “We probably ought to go ahead and get the entry fee from you, in case you win this thing.” As it turned out, I did win it, and got 40 hours of free recording time at Gaither Studios in Indiana. Plus, I got to return the following year to be a 'featured performer'. So, there I was, feeling really 'privileged' to be sitting in the Green Room, chatting it up with folks from Avalon, some famous preacher dude, and a couple of recently signed artists. All that being said, the week I spent in Alexandria, Indiana at Gaither Studios recording my 4th CD was the most memorable part of the whole ordeal.
Searching back through my mind, I can remember winning over a dozen speech tournaments, both in debate and acting, both individual and in duets; and even placing first in the state finals of Humorous Interpretation my senior year in high school. Interestingly, one judge (from OBU) graded me down in a preliminary round, calling my piece ‘sacreligious’. Luckily I got two firsts and a second from the three judges in the final round. The very next year, I won a drama scholarship to OBU…but by then that teacher had left the school, so I couldn’t give her a piece of my mind. I remember doing dozens of Godspell performances over a two year span at OSU (I played John the Baptist/Judas, the same role I had seen Jeremy Irons play a few years before that in London). I remember being the lead singer for a darn good band during those years in college and screaming Top 40 till I was hoarse hundreds of gigs all over Oklahoma (the proms were the most fun!). I still wince in exhaustion from doing over 150 shows at the State Fair of Oklahoma over a three year span. I shiver when I recall doing an outdoor show with Bryan White in front of a stadium full of people in December (brrrrrr).
I remember way back where it all began...standing in front of large crowds many times while still a young boy (attending Willard Elementary School) in Ada. I was Annie’s little brother in Annie Get Your Gun; a featured soloist with the East Central State College’s production of Elijah; and I even won a talent contest at a John Haggai tent revival (I won an oil painting of myself and a really cool camera that I carted all over Europe and used until I got into college). All of this before I ever entered Junior High. I especially remember the very first time, back there in Ada, standing in front of several hundred people waiting for my name to be announced. I slowly walked out to the center, and with the cameras rolling, I answered a couple of questions in the general direction of the mic; then grabbed my nose as the pastor lowered me in the water. THAT moment, deciding right then to let Jesus Christ be in charge of my life, has had more of an impact on my life than all the other crowds I've stood in front of since; and was certainly worth more than any trophy, any contest or any 15 minute chunk of fame. It has had and will have a longer and more lasting effect on me than any of those other ‘memories’ I have recalled here. It is that spirit, His Spirit, that has guided me and influenced nearly every aspect of my life.
You can take the rest away, but leave me that one life changing decision...that one moment in the Son. There is no other 'interesting or unusual' event in a life that can top that!
Galatians 2:20
...it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.
__________________________________________________________
The opening line from A Song For You by Leon Russell seemed an appropriate title for this Blog...so I used it. All good Okies should love Okie native Leon Russell ;)
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
HALF MY LIFE (Part Deux)
As I look back at the half of my life spent working for the ‘phone company’ (aka: Ma Bell), I suddenly realize that I now have more seniority than anyone else with the ‘directory department’ (aka: AT&T Advertising Solutions). This wasn’t true a year ago, but one by one, retirement party by retirement party the boys and girls that were working here when I started, those same men and women have left the company (either through voluntary or forced retirement) leaving me as the old man on the block (aka: crock o’ the walk).
Each retirement party brings many of the same faces, gathering once again to talk about old times, to reminisce about the way it was and to pontificate the future (or lack thereof) for the printed Yellow Pages directory. Will it go the way of the pager? Will it go the way of the ‘land line’ (aka: DIE’L TONE)? Do kids today know what we mean by 'let your fingers do the walking'? Most of them let their fingers do the talking!
Often the topic of conversation turns to pensions as we delicately pry or flat out ask how those who have gone before us have chosen to invest. Lump sums, partial lump sums, T-Bill rates; boring discussions that have a huge bearing on quality of life once the retirement door hits you in the financius maximus. All in all, as in so many things, we all complain; but we are all grateful for what we’ve gotten (or what we hope to get).
One recent retirement party, a gentleman came up to me, introduced himself as “Joe” and started the ‘looking forward to retirement’ talk, the required ‘what is up with the stock being down?’ lament, along with the gratefully honest appreciation of the pension that lay ahead. I didn’t recognize the guy, but often those that retire started out in different departments, and often the ‘first boss’ or the BFF (Bell Former Friend) shows up to celebrate the endurance and dedication necessary to make it to the ‘final party’.
I picked up pretty quickly that Joe hadn’t retired yet and he and I spent several minutes near the punch bowl swapping stories on what we were going to do with our 401Ks. As we moved towards the cheese squares our stories about ‘how it was going to be’ got a little carried away and by the time I was lapping up the hot sauce and the guacamole I realized there was no way my ‘retirement’ was going to be nearly as glorious as Joe’s was going to be. I decided he must have been a Regional higher up or maybe even a VP of something good to have been able to sock away that much pre-tax dough for his use and pleasure once he left the ‘working world’. Being the professional fact-finder that I am, I decided to do some secondary probes and find out what good old Joe’s position with AT&T was (perhaps he could put in a good word for me).
“Joe, I started selling yellow pages back in ’83, but I’m not remembering you. Did you work for directory?”
“No,” he replied. “Never did. I’ve met a few of you off and on, though. I hope we can all hang out some after we retire. Y'all are a fun bunch!"
“Yeah, salesmen tend to be somewhat extroverted. So I guess you weren’t in sales?!?”
“Oh no. I’m not really the salesman type. But it doesn't seem to matter. AT&T has SUCH a good retirement that even if you didn't do the sales thing, you'll be able to live comfortably!”
“That's probably true,” I replied. “So what part of AT&T do you work for?”
“Oh I don’t work for AT&T! I’m self employed. I work for myself!”
I nearly dropped my finger food into the cocktail wienies. “You NEVER worked for Bell?”
“Can’t say that I have! But I’ve always had AT&T phones and AT&T long distance. Here, have you seen the new iPhone?” Sure enough, he had the latest, greatest model, a 32 GB iPhone 4.0.
“But if you’ve never worked for AT&T and you’ve never been a part of this company, why do you think you’ve got a retirement package waiting on you?”
Not the least bit deterred, he continued, “You said you sold yellow page ads. I use the AT&T Yellow Pages all the time. Now, I can’t get U-Verse where I live, but I would if I could; so that's hardly my fault! Plus, I’ve been going to several of these retirement lunches lately; always a bunch of good people just like me. In fact, I’m not so sure some of them have worked nearly as hard as I have. Why wouldn’t I be included?"
I quickly deduced that finding my employee benefits hand book probably wouldn’t do any good. But a couple of things Jesus said in Matthew suddenly seemed appropriate.
Matthew 7:21 “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven.”
Matthew 19:24 “And again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”
However, before I could quote from the hand book or the good book, Joe blurted out, "If I don't have a pension to look forward to then what's the point? I might as well die right now, go straight to heaven and skip these stupid parties!" He seemed more than a bit miffed as he whirled around and walked across the room then out the side door to join some folks who actually had quit Bell (but hadn't quit smoking) to share a Marlboro moment with them. In his haste to leave (and to light the leaves), I saw he had inadvertently knocked his name tag off and it had fallen to the ground (those things never do stick worth a darn). I picked it up and for the first time I noticed that it read: HELLO, my name is JOE C.
Oh my goodness I thought...surely his last name wasn’t CAMEL…
I was tempted to talk to him further, but as poorly as I had handled the 'pension' discussion, I figured now wasn't a good time to enter into a 'heaven' discussion (hey, he brought it up, not me).
Besides...I felt like I had basically already had one.
You're tellin' me I need to be changin' my ways.
Is that what you want me to do?
Well, the fella that lives down the street, around the corner,
claims to be a Christian, too.
I see him in the checkout line at the supercenter,
buyin' cigarettes and beer.
I promise you, I'm as good as that guy
so I don't know what you're sayin' here!
Lyrics taken from GOD'S HEAVEN
Each retirement party brings many of the same faces, gathering once again to talk about old times, to reminisce about the way it was and to pontificate the future (or lack thereof) for the printed Yellow Pages directory. Will it go the way of the pager? Will it go the way of the ‘land line’ (aka: DIE’L TONE)? Do kids today know what we mean by 'let your fingers do the walking'? Most of them let their fingers do the talking!
Often the topic of conversation turns to pensions as we delicately pry or flat out ask how those who have gone before us have chosen to invest. Lump sums, partial lump sums, T-Bill rates; boring discussions that have a huge bearing on quality of life once the retirement door hits you in the financius maximus. All in all, as in so many things, we all complain; but we are all grateful for what we’ve gotten (or what we hope to get).
One recent retirement party, a gentleman came up to me, introduced himself as “Joe” and started the ‘looking forward to retirement’ talk, the required ‘what is up with the stock being down?’ lament, along with the gratefully honest appreciation of the pension that lay ahead. I didn’t recognize the guy, but often those that retire started out in different departments, and often the ‘first boss’ or the BFF (Bell Former Friend) shows up to celebrate the endurance and dedication necessary to make it to the ‘final party’.
I picked up pretty quickly that Joe hadn’t retired yet and he and I spent several minutes near the punch bowl swapping stories on what we were going to do with our 401Ks. As we moved towards the cheese squares our stories about ‘how it was going to be’ got a little carried away and by the time I was lapping up the hot sauce and the guacamole I realized there was no way my ‘retirement’ was going to be nearly as glorious as Joe’s was going to be. I decided he must have been a Regional higher up or maybe even a VP of something good to have been able to sock away that much pre-tax dough for his use and pleasure once he left the ‘working world’. Being the professional fact-finder that I am, I decided to do some secondary probes and find out what good old Joe’s position with AT&T was (perhaps he could put in a good word for me).
“Joe, I started selling yellow pages back in ’83, but I’m not remembering you. Did you work for directory?”
“No,” he replied. “Never did. I’ve met a few of you off and on, though. I hope we can all hang out some after we retire. Y'all are a fun bunch!"
“Yeah, salesmen tend to be somewhat extroverted. So I guess you weren’t in sales?!?”
“Oh no. I’m not really the salesman type. But it doesn't seem to matter. AT&T has SUCH a good retirement that even if you didn't do the sales thing, you'll be able to live comfortably!”
“That's probably true,” I replied. “So what part of AT&T do you work for?”
“Oh I don’t work for AT&T! I’m self employed. I work for myself!”
I nearly dropped my finger food into the cocktail wienies. “You NEVER worked for Bell?”
“Can’t say that I have! But I’ve always had AT&T phones and AT&T long distance. Here, have you seen the new iPhone?” Sure enough, he had the latest, greatest model, a 32 GB iPhone 4.0.
“But if you’ve never worked for AT&T and you’ve never been a part of this company, why do you think you’ve got a retirement package waiting on you?”
Not the least bit deterred, he continued, “You said you sold yellow page ads. I use the AT&T Yellow Pages all the time. Now, I can’t get U-Verse where I live, but I would if I could; so that's hardly my fault! Plus, I’ve been going to several of these retirement lunches lately; always a bunch of good people just like me. In fact, I’m not so sure some of them have worked nearly as hard as I have. Why wouldn’t I be included?"
I quickly deduced that finding my employee benefits hand book probably wouldn’t do any good. But a couple of things Jesus said in Matthew suddenly seemed appropriate.
Matthew 7:21 “Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father in heaven.”
Matthew 19:24 “And again I say to you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.”
However, before I could quote from the hand book or the good book, Joe blurted out, "If I don't have a pension to look forward to then what's the point? I might as well die right now, go straight to heaven and skip these stupid parties!" He seemed more than a bit miffed as he whirled around and walked across the room then out the side door to join some folks who actually had quit Bell (but hadn't quit smoking) to share a Marlboro moment with them. In his haste to leave (and to light the leaves), I saw he had inadvertently knocked his name tag off and it had fallen to the ground (those things never do stick worth a darn). I picked it up and for the first time I noticed that it read: HELLO, my name is JOE C.
Oh my goodness I thought...surely his last name wasn’t CAMEL…
I was tempted to talk to him further, but as poorly as I had handled the 'pension' discussion, I figured now wasn't a good time to enter into a 'heaven' discussion (hey, he brought it up, not me).
Besides...I felt like I had basically already had one.
You're tellin' me I need to be changin' my ways.
Is that what you want me to do?
Well, the fella that lives down the street, around the corner,
claims to be a Christian, too.
I see him in the checkout line at the supercenter,
buyin' cigarettes and beer.
I promise you, I'm as good as that guy
so I don't know what you're sayin' here!
Lyrics taken from GOD'S HEAVEN
Monday, July 5, 2010
HALF MY LIFE (Part One)
An interesting landmark in my life just passed and it almost went unnoticed. I started working for AT&T (Southwestern Bell Yellow Pages) when I was 27 years old (and five months to be exact). July 3rd marked my 27 1/2 year anniversary. That means I've been an employee of, associated with, devoted most of my waking hours to AT&T for over half my life! More of my life has been devoted to selling yellow pages than to NOT selling yellow pages. To quote the classic old Tennessee Ernie Ford song (that came out the year I was born), I feel like "I owe my soul to the company store." And maybe the saddest thing about that, is in 10 years or so, there may not be a yellow pages directory (at least in a physical form). It will cease to exist. It will become extinct. Poof! Nothing! I've poured over half my life into...nothing!
Certainly it hasn't been fruitless (or pointless). It's provided for my family very well. I've learned outstanding sales and marketing skills. I've been able to help hundreds of businesses grow. As the company has adapted I've been forced to learn countless computer skills. I'm highly proficient at Microsoft Excel (until the next version comes out ;). Most memorably, I've made several life-long friends there.
But then I look at all the data I've stored in my brain that is now (or will soon be) totally useless (the data AND my brain). Information on products we no longer sell. Systems we no longer employ. All those countless sales presentations I had to memorize and be able to regurgitate ad nauseam that are no longer the latest and greatest way to present the product. The devotion and dedication to being a top salesman, to developing my abilities, my knowledge of the product, and pouring myself into my job. Not to mention all the addresses and phone numbers that are still rattling around in my head pertaining to old offices from where we've long since moved (909 S. Meridian, 205 NW 63, 879-5000, 949-...uh, I think I finally forgot that one). So much stuff. So much importance. So temporal.
Fortunately, about twelve years ago I started leading worship. First one church, then another. Part-time positions; but the full time worship leader. Pouring my life into other peoples' lives through music and through relationships. It was a definite turning point in my life. If I retire from AT&T soon (and I plan on it) and can lead worship for another fifteen years or more (and I plan on it), I can surpass the nearly three decades of work with AT&T with three decades of being a Worship Pastor. So much stuff. So much importance. So eternal.
Music is nothing new to me. I've always done it. Singing, performing, writing. That's been going on for over forty years. But the devotion and dedication to being a lead worshipper, to developing my abilities, my knowledge of the music, and pouring myself into the 'job' of music didn't happen until I stepped up to be a leader. It was all kind of a fun hobby until that time. Until I applied myself; until I made up my mind to make it something more; until I got serious about it...only then could I call myself a worship leader. Only then did my outward actions match my inward desires. Only then could I fulfill that calling.
I believe God calls everyone to some level of service. It's not always to be on a staff, and certainly not to preach or be the 'music guy'. But the calling is no less significant. And God's expectations of you and His plans for you are just as important as any He has for me. Put quite simply, when we look back at our lives, into what have we poured the 'majority' of our time and efforts. Has it had any eternal significance? If not, what are we waiting on? How long do we let the things of life get in the way of life?
Occupations change and certainly the importance of them do also. A year ago I would have been 'king of the world' as the CEO of BP. Now that ship has sunk in Titanic proportions (I hear now he's running for Mayor of Atlantis ;). Looking back, did the 'do do bird' expert suddenly just become a 'do do'? When did the telegraph operator finally 'STOP' or cry out for help ...---...? When does an old salesman finally quit putting all his efforts and his life into a dying book and devote his days to a living book? When do we start focusing on 'important' things instead of 'impotent' things? There's no better GIFT or TIME than the PRESENT!
"St. Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go..."
I've done a few things, but I need to do mo'e!
Certainly it hasn't been fruitless (or pointless). It's provided for my family very well. I've learned outstanding sales and marketing skills. I've been able to help hundreds of businesses grow. As the company has adapted I've been forced to learn countless computer skills. I'm highly proficient at Microsoft Excel (until the next version comes out ;). Most memorably, I've made several life-long friends there.
But then I look at all the data I've stored in my brain that is now (or will soon be) totally useless (the data AND my brain). Information on products we no longer sell. Systems we no longer employ. All those countless sales presentations I had to memorize and be able to regurgitate ad nauseam that are no longer the latest and greatest way to present the product. The devotion and dedication to being a top salesman, to developing my abilities, my knowledge of the product, and pouring myself into my job. Not to mention all the addresses and phone numbers that are still rattling around in my head pertaining to old offices from where we've long since moved (909 S. Meridian, 205 NW 63, 879-5000, 949-...uh, I think I finally forgot that one). So much stuff. So much importance. So temporal.
Fortunately, about twelve years ago I started leading worship. First one church, then another. Part-time positions; but the full time worship leader. Pouring my life into other peoples' lives through music and through relationships. It was a definite turning point in my life. If I retire from AT&T soon (and I plan on it) and can lead worship for another fifteen years or more (and I plan on it), I can surpass the nearly three decades of work with AT&T with three decades of being a Worship Pastor. So much stuff. So much importance. So eternal.
Music is nothing new to me. I've always done it. Singing, performing, writing. That's been going on for over forty years. But the devotion and dedication to being a lead worshipper, to developing my abilities, my knowledge of the music, and pouring myself into the 'job' of music didn't happen until I stepped up to be a leader. It was all kind of a fun hobby until that time. Until I applied myself; until I made up my mind to make it something more; until I got serious about it...only then could I call myself a worship leader. Only then did my outward actions match my inward desires. Only then could I fulfill that calling.
I believe God calls everyone to some level of service. It's not always to be on a staff, and certainly not to preach or be the 'music guy'. But the calling is no less significant. And God's expectations of you and His plans for you are just as important as any He has for me. Put quite simply, when we look back at our lives, into what have we poured the 'majority' of our time and efforts. Has it had any eternal significance? If not, what are we waiting on? How long do we let the things of life get in the way of life?
Occupations change and certainly the importance of them do also. A year ago I would have been 'king of the world' as the CEO of BP. Now that ship has sunk in Titanic proportions (I hear now he's running for Mayor of Atlantis ;). Looking back, did the 'do do bird' expert suddenly just become a 'do do'? When did the telegraph operator finally 'STOP' or cry out for help ...---...? When does an old salesman finally quit putting all his efforts and his life into a dying book and devote his days to a living book? When do we start focusing on 'important' things instead of 'impotent' things? There's no better GIFT or TIME than the PRESENT!
"St. Peter don't you call me, 'cause I can't go..."
I've done a few things, but I need to do mo'e!
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
SHO SH'D SHO
I’ve got great childhood memories from the six years that my family lived in Ada, Oklahoma. We lived in a little addition on the northeast side of town on Linda Ave (I had two Aunt Lindas so I always liked that street name). Our house was just a few hundred yards from the railroad tracks. What a great place to PLAY. Countless pennies were flattened on those tracks. Pieces of coal could be readily found. It was always fun to walk down the tracks as a means to explore. The side of the ‘train track hill’ was perfect for sliding down on old cardboard boxes. Other than adjusting to the noise during the night, I highly recommend growing up near a train track.
We were also around the corner from the Catholic church. The church had a big steeple looking thing in front of it with bells that tolled on the quarter hour. Those bells could be heard throughout the neighborhood, and even though I portended to have lost track of time when I was late for dinner or bedtime, I was always keenly aware of the time of day. Can't say that I ever stepped foot inside that little church. Didn't have a reason to...
Just up the hill from the church was another landmark: the local Tastee Freeze. All in all it was a short bike ride away and to this day, I can barely pass a Dairy Queen without stopping (like so many things, I'll say I'm stopping 'for the kids' but when it comes to ice cream, it's pretty much all about me). Each day, the Tastee Freeze had a ‘Shake of the Day’(at a reduced price), which was pretty cool since they claimed to have FIFTY flavors of shakes! Definitely some odd and unique flavors were featured on the TF marquee. I'll never forget the day I pedaled around the corner and past the church to the Tastee Freez and saw that the flavor of the day was 'Grasshopper'. Even as a little boy, I wasn't all that into insects (some bad experiences with red ants and wasps), so I had to make a decision...go home disappointed (I only had enough money for the 'special of the day' price) screaming to Momma for more money (aka: I scream for ice cream) or go into uncharted frozen milky waters. I chose the latter, paid my two quarters and was handed a greenish-looking dairy concoction in a cup. It was summertime, it was hot, so there wasn't time to hesitate...I pretty much had to grab that straw, suck hard, and hope that I was the only one doing the sucking...and you know what...it was GOOD! I recall it having a 'spearmint' taste...kind of like a Wrigley's Spearmint Shake. Plus I found no 'legs' or 'antennae' to speak of so I was in 'non-locust heaven'. Throughout the years, shakes, sundaes and other ice cream treats taught me to enjoy a myriad of tastes and they were my first introduction to various fruits like Pineapples and Strawberries, and reinforced my love for Cherries and Bananas as well. In fact, about any fruit with ice cream is just plain 'Tastee'! Blizzards, Blends, Mixes, Freezes, name ‘em what you want, when Fruit is combined with ice cream (or CUSTARD), it’s good fruit.
In the book of Galatians, the Bible talks about fruits...both good and bad.
22…the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Galatians 5:22
The Spirit is God’s Spirit. It’s better than ice cream, sweeter than custard, and it is what should ooze out of each one of us that claim to be Christ-like. We sang a song at Kids Camp last summer that listed all the things that WEREN’T fruits of the Spirit (like Kumquats!?!). The Bible actually gives some better examples (than Kumquats) of ‘fruits’ not on the list, like: “21...hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy;”
In fact, in this passage the Bible lists the NON-fruits first; and let’s face it, those are the easiest to spot and the most obvious traits that that don’t belong in a Christian’s life. From the World's perspective it's much easier to identify WWouldn'tJD than WWouldJD even if you don't know that much about Jesus. When (and if) we in the 'church' exhibit those fruits, those characteristics, those emotions that are NOT of the Spirit, that are NOT of God, we insult God; and the intelligence of those around us. Then no matter how much religious ice cream (or Sunday S'Cool Whip) we try to heap on top, it ceases to be 'special'; it cease to be a treat. In fact it ceases to be anything ANYONE would want; it's a 'shake' with bad ingredients....like getting a 'grasshopper' shake with REAL grasshoppers. Sure it would look nice and creamy on the outside. But that first slurp would make you run down the hill, past the 'church', around the corner and back home screaming to Momma, "those shakes are awful; they're not what they're supposed to be; I won't ever set foot in there again!" It would give new meaning to the phrase "I scream for ice cream!" and could be the 'bad shake experience' that would keep you out of the 'Tastee Freez' for a very long time.
__________________________________________________________
This BLOG shares its title with a song from my RED LETTER DAY CD that succinctly sums up my thoughts on this subject. "It sho should show if you're a child of the Father". Click on this link and scroll down the page until you see the Red Letter Day CD and the song titled: SHO SH'D SHO! Enjoy!
We were also around the corner from the Catholic church. The church had a big steeple looking thing in front of it with bells that tolled on the quarter hour. Those bells could be heard throughout the neighborhood, and even though I portended to have lost track of time when I was late for dinner or bedtime, I was always keenly aware of the time of day. Can't say that I ever stepped foot inside that little church. Didn't have a reason to...
Just up the hill from the church was another landmark: the local Tastee Freeze. All in all it was a short bike ride away and to this day, I can barely pass a Dairy Queen without stopping (like so many things, I'll say I'm stopping 'for the kids' but when it comes to ice cream, it's pretty much all about me). Each day, the Tastee Freeze had a ‘Shake of the Day’(at a reduced price), which was pretty cool since they claimed to have FIFTY flavors of shakes! Definitely some odd and unique flavors were featured on the TF marquee. I'll never forget the day I pedaled around the corner and past the church to the Tastee Freez and saw that the flavor of the day was 'Grasshopper'. Even as a little boy, I wasn't all that into insects (some bad experiences with red ants and wasps), so I had to make a decision...go home disappointed (I only had enough money for the 'special of the day' price) screaming to Momma for more money (aka: I scream for ice cream) or go into uncharted frozen milky waters. I chose the latter, paid my two quarters and was handed a greenish-looking dairy concoction in a cup. It was summertime, it was hot, so there wasn't time to hesitate...I pretty much had to grab that straw, suck hard, and hope that I was the only one doing the sucking...and you know what...it was GOOD! I recall it having a 'spearmint' taste...kind of like a Wrigley's Spearmint Shake. Plus I found no 'legs' or 'antennae' to speak of so I was in 'non-locust heaven'. Throughout the years, shakes, sundaes and other ice cream treats taught me to enjoy a myriad of tastes and they were my first introduction to various fruits like Pineapples and Strawberries, and reinforced my love for Cherries and Bananas as well. In fact, about any fruit with ice cream is just plain 'Tastee'! Blizzards, Blends, Mixes, Freezes, name ‘em what you want, when Fruit is combined with ice cream (or CUSTARD), it’s good fruit.
In the book of Galatians, the Bible talks about fruits...both good and bad.
22…the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Galatians 5:22
The Spirit is God’s Spirit. It’s better than ice cream, sweeter than custard, and it is what should ooze out of each one of us that claim to be Christ-like. We sang a song at Kids Camp last summer that listed all the things that WEREN’T fruits of the Spirit (like Kumquats!?!). The Bible actually gives some better examples (than Kumquats) of ‘fruits’ not on the list, like: “21...hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy;”
In fact, in this passage the Bible lists the NON-fruits first; and let’s face it, those are the easiest to spot and the most obvious traits that that don’t belong in a Christian’s life. From the World's perspective it's much easier to identify WWouldn'tJD than WWouldJD even if you don't know that much about Jesus. When (and if) we in the 'church' exhibit those fruits, those characteristics, those emotions that are NOT of the Spirit, that are NOT of God, we insult God; and the intelligence of those around us. Then no matter how much religious ice cream (or Sunday S'Cool Whip) we try to heap on top, it ceases to be 'special'; it cease to be a treat. In fact it ceases to be anything ANYONE would want; it's a 'shake' with bad ingredients....like getting a 'grasshopper' shake with REAL grasshoppers. Sure it would look nice and creamy on the outside. But that first slurp would make you run down the hill, past the 'church', around the corner and back home screaming to Momma, "those shakes are awful; they're not what they're supposed to be; I won't ever set foot in there again!" It would give new meaning to the phrase "I scream for ice cream!" and could be the 'bad shake experience' that would keep you out of the 'Tastee Freez' for a very long time.
__________________________________________________________
This BLOG shares its title with a song from my RED LETTER DAY CD that succinctly sums up my thoughts on this subject. "It sho should show if you're a child of the Father". Click on this link and scroll down the page until you see the Red Letter Day CD and the song titled: SHO SH'D SHO! Enjoy!
Thursday, May 20, 2010
SHORT PEOPLE GOT NO REASON TO BLOG
I've been short all my life. I only weighed about 6 lbs when I was born and nothing much has changed. I was always the shortest guy in my class. My whole life as a young boy, my one wish, my consistent prayer was that I would get that 'growth spurt' in high school, and reach 6 feet tall (later amended to 5'10" when I realized 6 feet was completely out of the question). Needless to say, my wish...fell SHORT. Even my friends in school who were about my height seemed to slowly (but soar-ly) outgrow me and left me behind in their shadows ("How's the weather down there?") I hit the ceiling (figuratively of course) at 5'7".
I loved the disco era. I liked the music. I liked that it usually included horns and keyboards. But mostly, I liked the platform shoes that became extremely popular during that time. I regularly wore them...to market, at home, eating roast beef, etc. Everywhere my little piggies went, they were adorned in platforms. Since most pictures don't include the feet, I probably can't provide you proof or fodder so that you can poke fun at my platforms...but trust me, they were there...evening the odds...leveling the playing field...lifting my spirits.
It's always been PC (even when PC wasn't PC) to give people a hard time for being short (or tall for that matter). Of all the physical things in the world that might be a source of jokes or ridicule, height remains the one constant. I'm not sure that the 'thorn' in Paul's side wasn't his stature. "Shorty Saul" kind of has a ring to it. "Three foot Saul", or "Small Saul" could have been shouted across the Jewish playgrounds of the day. In today's modern world of cosmetic surgery, the classic childhood name calling of 'Fatso' and 'Opie' or more grown-up taunts like 'Carpenter's Dream' or 'Cue Ball' have become archaic. Even 'horse teeth' and 'hawk noses' have disappeared from the faces of young kids. You can have your body altered, your nose fixed, your teeth straightened, your face cleared up, and your cellulite removed; not to mention having your hair color changed, wearing a wig/toupee, or even having hair implanted. Girdles and gels, spanks and wonderbras to the rescue! But with the death of platform shoes, the escape from my reality vanished. Yes, I am a now model husband (a small miniature version of the real thing).
In the same way that I was born short, some folks are born large...they're big people. But I've learned throughout my life (and was reminded again just recently by my friend Keith Mohr) that you don't make fun of a person's size (OhMyGirth!!!). One of my favorite friends at the Rodeo Opry is Darlin' Darla. When she was younger, she looked like Florence Henderson (I've seen video). But since I've known her, she's been a big gal; and most of her repertoire of jokes revolves (like a planet) around her weight. It's funny. SHE'S funny. She can talk about it. She can have you in STITCHES over it. But take it from me...don't join in the frivolity. Too many folks are really sensitive about it; unless you're fat too. Then, as with most things, you can always poke fun at yourself. Here's Darla and I being fools together; performing Guitarzan at the Rodeo Opry!
And while we're on the subject of eating (or should I say eating too much); I'm not a big fan of buffets (except for Jimmy). Too many people coughing, hacking, sneezing on, drooling in, and touching my food (same thing with potlucks). But the main thing is, I feel like I'm enabling (and financially supporting) every over-weight over-eater in this county (and their relatives from the next county) to 'all-you-can-eat' their way to a heart attack; or at a minimum to store up fat for the winter. Ever wonder why they call it a 'Corral' (albeit Golden)? It's almost cannabalistic with all the cows eating steak and the pigs eating pork chops and Bar-B-Que. I feel out of place there...everyone seems to be eyeing me wondering, "what's Shorty Small doing here?" Maybe instead of a Senior discount, they should offer a Junior Discount? There's no way I eat enough to pay full price. Do they give out Handicap stickers for 'hollow legs'?
I don't want to beat a dead Shetland but the media's no help in this department. Don't expect any television shows anytime soon called "The Shortest Loser" or any celebrity endorsements for Little Jenny Craig. After all, the 'Tom Cruises' of the world hide their shortness. Why do you think Tom jumps on couches? It's because it makes him six feet tall. Why does Little Jimmy Dickens sing May The Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose ??? It's just a list of comebacks for all the short jokes he's heard all of his life. There does happen to be a pic in the Muskogee Highschool yearbook where I'm standing on a chair, feeling six feet tall; long before Top Gun thought of it!
I don't think me being vertically challenged was a factor in my love for comedy (or being a smart aleck). I'm really not sensitive about it. But I do seem to notice (or take note of) others and their challenges (especially those horizontally challenged). How can you NOT notice? (Did someone say something about the elephant in the room???) Whatever Paul's physical challenge was, he summed it up best in Philippians, when he wrote "...for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." The long and short of it...that's a statement we should all live by!
So, the next time you see me feel free to ask, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" But don't be surprised if I reply, "Golden Corral called; they want some of their buffet back!"
P.S. Here's another song for you to check out...and the inspiration for this BLOG title! SHORT PEOPLE ("They wear platform shoes on their nasty little feet") (and one I listened to over and over on my EIGHT TRACK player back in the day)
I loved the disco era. I liked the music. I liked that it usually included horns and keyboards. But mostly, I liked the platform shoes that became extremely popular during that time. I regularly wore them...to market, at home, eating roast beef, etc. Everywhere my little piggies went, they were adorned in platforms. Since most pictures don't include the feet, I probably can't provide you proof or fodder so that you can poke fun at my platforms...but trust me, they were there...evening the odds...leveling the playing field...lifting my spirits.
It's always been PC (even when PC wasn't PC) to give people a hard time for being short (or tall for that matter). Of all the physical things in the world that might be a source of jokes or ridicule, height remains the one constant. I'm not sure that the 'thorn' in Paul's side wasn't his stature. "Shorty Saul" kind of has a ring to it. "Three foot Saul", or "Small Saul" could have been shouted across the Jewish playgrounds of the day. In today's modern world of cosmetic surgery, the classic childhood name calling of 'Fatso' and 'Opie' or more grown-up taunts like 'Carpenter's Dream' or 'Cue Ball' have become archaic. Even 'horse teeth' and 'hawk noses' have disappeared from the faces of young kids. You can have your body altered, your nose fixed, your teeth straightened, your face cleared up, and your cellulite removed; not to mention having your hair color changed, wearing a wig/toupee, or even having hair implanted. Girdles and gels, spanks and wonderbras to the rescue! But with the death of platform shoes, the escape from my reality vanished. Yes, I am a now model husband (a small miniature version of the real thing).
In the same way that I was born short, some folks are born large...they're big people. But I've learned throughout my life (and was reminded again just recently by my friend Keith Mohr) that you don't make fun of a person's size (OhMyGirth!!!). One of my favorite friends at the Rodeo Opry is Darlin' Darla. When she was younger, she looked like Florence Henderson (I've seen video). But since I've known her, she's been a big gal; and most of her repertoire of jokes revolves (like a planet) around her weight. It's funny. SHE'S funny. She can talk about it. She can have you in STITCHES over it. But take it from me...don't join in the frivolity. Too many folks are really sensitive about it; unless you're fat too. Then, as with most things, you can always poke fun at yourself. Here's Darla and I being fools together; performing Guitarzan at the Rodeo Opry!
And while we're on the subject of eating (or should I say eating too much); I'm not a big fan of buffets (except for Jimmy). Too many people coughing, hacking, sneezing on, drooling in, and touching my food (same thing with potlucks). But the main thing is, I feel like I'm enabling (and financially supporting) every over-weight over-eater in this county (and their relatives from the next county) to 'all-you-can-eat' their way to a heart attack; or at a minimum to store up fat for the winter. Ever wonder why they call it a 'Corral' (albeit Golden)? It's almost cannabalistic with all the cows eating steak and the pigs eating pork chops and Bar-B-Que. I feel out of place there...everyone seems to be eyeing me wondering, "what's Shorty Small doing here?" Maybe instead of a Senior discount, they should offer a Junior Discount? There's no way I eat enough to pay full price. Do they give out Handicap stickers for 'hollow legs'?
I don't want to beat a dead Shetland but the media's no help in this department. Don't expect any television shows anytime soon called "The Shortest Loser" or any celebrity endorsements for Little Jenny Craig. After all, the 'Tom Cruises' of the world hide their shortness. Why do you think Tom jumps on couches? It's because it makes him six feet tall. Why does Little Jimmy Dickens sing May The Bird of Paradise Fly Up Your Nose ??? It's just a list of comebacks for all the short jokes he's heard all of his life. There does happen to be a pic in the Muskogee Highschool yearbook where I'm standing on a chair, feeling six feet tall; long before Top Gun thought of it!
I don't think me being vertically challenged was a factor in my love for comedy (or being a smart aleck). I'm really not sensitive about it. But I do seem to notice (or take note of) others and their challenges (especially those horizontally challenged). How can you NOT notice? (Did someone say something about the elephant in the room???) Whatever Paul's physical challenge was, he summed it up best in Philippians, when he wrote "...for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content." The long and short of it...that's a statement we should all live by!
So, the next time you see me feel free to ask, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" But don't be surprised if I reply, "Golden Corral called; they want some of their buffet back!"
P.S. Here's another song for you to check out...and the inspiration for this BLOG title! SHORT PEOPLE ("They wear platform shoes on their nasty little feet") (and one I listened to over and over on my EIGHT TRACK player back in the day)
Monday, May 3, 2010
NO RULES - JUST WRITE
I've decided that if I could just stay off of the highway, my life (and my temperament) would improve immensely. Driving crosstown every day during rush hour traffic is a horrific way to start and end each work day. It's not that I necessarily mind bumper to bumper traffic or even a long commute. If I'm listening to some good tunes or immersed in John MacArthur I don't even notice what's going on around me...that is until that idiot beside me veers over, having waited until the last second to merge. My uncle Ricky used to read those yellow warning signs along the side of the road when a lane ends as: Murdering Traffic; and for me, it isn't far from the truth.
You see, when it comes to merging, everyone seems to have their own set of rules. And so even though you may be playing by YOUR set of rules, if it breaks MY set of rules, then of course I'm horribly livid. It's kind of like my 'roast' example...everyone thinks THEIR set of rules is the correct one. Some folks out there have one set of rules (we can call them the 'A' rules), and I have a set (that we can call the 'B' rules). For example, when two lanes merge into one lane...most of us follow the 'B' rules (as in 'B' considerate) and go ahead and get into the 'surviving lane' long before the 'merging' lane ends. Shoot, if you believe what the signs say, there's even a STATE LAW that says to do it that way! But there's always those few folks that don't feel like they should have to fall into place, and they drive as fast as they can, as long as they can, as long as their asphalt lasts and then they whip into whatever 'hole' they can find (usually right in front of me, since I usually try to leave a car length or so of bumper room between myself and 'happy tappy break feet' ahead of me).
Sometimes I will amend my 'B' rules and use the 'C' rules (let's 'C' you try that now) and park my obstinate auto in the middle of the highway when there's less than two lanes left, but more than one lane available; so that when those aforementioned 'A' drivers come flying into my rearview mirror looking for a hole to pull into, I've blocked the 'A' holes (so to speak) that they were hoping to squeeze into and force them to find a 'B' hole to merge into in front of the 'B' folks 'B'-hind me ('C' what I mean?). So whether you're talking about the 'A' holes or the 'B' holes, what it comes down to is that we pretty much 'merge' our rules to fit the 'hole' we are in and to justify how we got there.
The whole world is becoming more and more like this. We have a set of rules we're supposed to follow, but those rules have been deemed 'out of date' and not in vogue any longer (aka: not PC). So, if I'm Tiger or Jesse, Elton or Ellen or any of the other 'first name famous' people, (or even if I'm Tom, Dick or Harry met Sally for that matter) I can play by my own rules or at least have a double set of them. A prime example of this is what the Pope is dealing with right now. But it's not restricted to the Catholic priests...the politicians do it, their constituents do it, the teachers, the preachers, the folks in the bleachers, the speakers, the hearers, those guys in the mirrors ("if you want to make the world a bettuh place, take a look at yourself and make that...change!"). Everybody's doing it. But it's nothing new...ask Bathsheba (or her first husband...or her second husband).
What's just as frustrating are the ones out there that actually do have a single set of rules, but they're so busy applying the rules they see as important to everyone else, they don't notice all the ones that they're obliterating. It's the old 'get that speck out of your eye' from Matthew 7:3 that I paraphrase in one of my songs this way: "We're busy pickin' up specks of sand, meanwhile we're trippin' over piles of wood", aka: the pot calling the kettle black, the overeater calling the smoker unhealthy, the early riser calling the night owl lazy, the adulterer calling the slanderer names, the unhappy people trying to bring down the king of the Happy Meals ("Love You, Ronald"), and especially anyone who is critical of the poor Hippopotamus and any Christian not showing grace (both of the last two make you Hippo Critical).
So no doubt you're wondering (as I've been wandering), "are there merging tips in the Bible?" Well, of course! But I suggest you NOT use the King James Mergin' because "many there be which go in thereat," will just confuse you. Using the New International Mergin' (some of my Blog readers ARE overseas you know), I can actually give you a few of them. First of all, don't even attempt to merge until you Clear Your Blind Spot ("remove the plank from your own eye"). Secondly, always be on the look out for the Yellow Sign (aka: the Golden Sign - Merge Into Others As You Would Have Them Merge Into You!). And lastly, the road to Heaven is a narrow one...so as the throngs of Christians maneuver their way, there's bound to be few that cut in front of you right before you reach the narrow gate. Now before you're tempted to shout in your best King James voice, "Get thee behind me, Satan," I perhaps should remind you of a paraphrase from the New American Randym Mergin' that says: The last shall be first, and the first shall be...passed. In other words, get over...and get over it. I'll do my best to remember that tomorrow morning on my way to work.
You see, when it comes to merging, everyone seems to have their own set of rules. And so even though you may be playing by YOUR set of rules, if it breaks MY set of rules, then of course I'm horribly livid. It's kind of like my 'roast' example...everyone thinks THEIR set of rules is the correct one. Some folks out there have one set of rules (we can call them the 'A' rules), and I have a set (that we can call the 'B' rules). For example, when two lanes merge into one lane...most of us follow the 'B' rules (as in 'B' considerate) and go ahead and get into the 'surviving lane' long before the 'merging' lane ends. Shoot, if you believe what the signs say, there's even a STATE LAW that says to do it that way! But there's always those few folks that don't feel like they should have to fall into place, and they drive as fast as they can, as long as they can, as long as their asphalt lasts and then they whip into whatever 'hole' they can find (usually right in front of me, since I usually try to leave a car length or so of bumper room between myself and 'happy tappy break feet' ahead of me).
Sometimes I will amend my 'B' rules and use the 'C' rules (let's 'C' you try that now) and park my obstinate auto in the middle of the highway when there's less than two lanes left, but more than one lane available; so that when those aforementioned 'A' drivers come flying into my rearview mirror looking for a hole to pull into, I've blocked the 'A' holes (so to speak) that they were hoping to squeeze into and force them to find a 'B' hole to merge into in front of the 'B' folks 'B'-hind me ('C' what I mean?). So whether you're talking about the 'A' holes or the 'B' holes, what it comes down to is that we pretty much 'merge' our rules to fit the 'hole' we are in and to justify how we got there.
The whole world is becoming more and more like this. We have a set of rules we're supposed to follow, but those rules have been deemed 'out of date' and not in vogue any longer (aka: not PC). So, if I'm Tiger or Jesse, Elton or Ellen or any of the other 'first name famous' people, (or even if I'm Tom, Dick or Harry met Sally for that matter) I can play by my own rules or at least have a double set of them. A prime example of this is what the Pope is dealing with right now. But it's not restricted to the Catholic priests...the politicians do it, their constituents do it, the teachers, the preachers, the folks in the bleachers, the speakers, the hearers, those guys in the mirrors ("if you want to make the world a bettuh place, take a look at yourself and make that...change!"). Everybody's doing it. But it's nothing new...ask Bathsheba (or her first husband...or her second husband).
What's just as frustrating are the ones out there that actually do have a single set of rules, but they're so busy applying the rules they see as important to everyone else, they don't notice all the ones that they're obliterating. It's the old 'get that speck out of your eye' from Matthew 7:3 that I paraphrase in one of my songs this way: "We're busy pickin' up specks of sand, meanwhile we're trippin' over piles of wood", aka: the pot calling the kettle black, the overeater calling the smoker unhealthy, the early riser calling the night owl lazy, the adulterer calling the slanderer names, the unhappy people trying to bring down the king of the Happy Meals ("Love You, Ronald"), and especially anyone who is critical of the poor Hippopotamus and any Christian not showing grace (both of the last two make you Hippo Critical).
So no doubt you're wondering (as I've been wandering), "are there merging tips in the Bible?" Well, of course! But I suggest you NOT use the King James Mergin' because "many there be which go in thereat," will just confuse you. Using the New International Mergin' (some of my Blog readers ARE overseas you know), I can actually give you a few of them. First of all, don't even attempt to merge until you Clear Your Blind Spot ("remove the plank from your own eye"). Secondly, always be on the look out for the Yellow Sign (aka: the Golden Sign - Merge Into Others As You Would Have Them Merge Into You!). And lastly, the road to Heaven is a narrow one...so as the throngs of Christians maneuver their way, there's bound to be few that cut in front of you right before you reach the narrow gate. Now before you're tempted to shout in your best King James voice, "Get thee behind me, Satan," I perhaps should remind you of a paraphrase from the New American Randym Mergin' that says: The last shall be first, and the first shall be...passed. In other words, get over...and get over it. I'll do my best to remember that tomorrow morning on my way to work.
Friday, April 23, 2010
PUT ANOTHER BLOG ON THE FIRE
I always encouraged my kids to go to college. Not because of the old accepted adage that "you can't get a good job without a degree" but because I knew that it would make them better writers, increase their vocabularies, and teach them concepts and curriculum never even approached in high school. Just as important was the maturing that I knew they’d get there. The REAL axiom that comes into play here regarding college is: "What doesn't kill you, makes you smarter". But above that, just being exposed to a vast melting pot of kids from all different walks of life, different parts of the country, and different socio-economic backgrounds is First Grade in learning that 'the way I grew up doing it' doesn't make it the right way (or the best way).
Now I'm not talking about the 'train up a child...he will not depart from it' Proverbs core beliefs and core values here (at least not in this post). I'm talking about the every day things like a shoe then a sock, or both socks then both shoes, or the above the roll or below the roll in each one of our lives, and how quickly our eyes are opened when we observe behavior totally foreign to our own.
My kids have all left home, gone to college, and then returned (for visits only, mind you) with strange habits, likes and desires that they never acquired under my roof; disgusting habits that I would had hoped they would avoid. Things like sushi, and coffee, pizza dipped in ranch dressing, Red Bull and enery drinks, not to mention bad language habits like, well like, you know, like, oh like this one, like you know what I mean?
Honestly, many of my famous Whittern home recipes are variations and deviations on what I learned from my college roommates. First year in college, you eat in the dorms. This of course is one of the first things that make you smarter, if you don't die from it. You learn during times of stress (like finals week) to order Hideaway Pizza, or head to the Town Talk Cafe at midnight. My first year out of the dorms about all my roommate and I had figured out we could cook were grilled cheese sandwiches (the old gas stove we had was equipped with a griddle in the middle of it). We soon learned that even cheap Buddig meat was edible between buttered and grilled bread surrounded by melted cheese. The next year I lived in a townhouse with two other guys, and we decided that each night, one of us would be in charge of the meal. Still being somewhat of a picky eater at that stage in my life (learning to eat new things is another thing you pick up rapidly in college), I would usually hang around to ‘help’ in the preparation of the food; mostly I was there to see what ingredients were going into the concoction I was going to be expected to eat. One night, my roommate (Boyd) and I decided we were going to fix up a roast. We went to the grocery store, bought cow, spuds and rabbit food (roast, potatoes and carrots) and headed back to the kitchen. As we prepared to start the process, I immediately grabbed our biggest pot (the one we used for spaghetti noodles) and plopped it on top of the stove. At the same time, my roommate grabbed the biggest and deepest baking pan he could find. In unison, we asked each other, "What are you doing?" Boyd added, "You put a roast in the oven, you fool!" I replied, "No idiot, you cook a roast on the stove!" We had lived together for three years, so we were pretty much in the 'too many cooks spoil the batter' stage of our relationship (and were familiar enough with each other to use pet names, like 'fool' and 'idiot'. For some reason after all these years my wife and I haven't become that familiar yet.)
You see in my house, my mom fixed her roast on top of the stove (almost like a stew, but without all the stew stuff, and simmered to perfection). Boyd's mom had always fixed a pot roast in the oven, like a turkey, baked to perfection. Each method was the only method we knew...the only 'roast' we understood...the only way to do it. And since every boy's mom was the best cook he knew, you didn't dare question her methods. (Girls, take note when you get married. Don't get between a boy and his mom's cooking).
So what's best (besides "momma knows...")??? "A crockpot, stupid," you may yell at your computer screen. Shoot, I once ate a 'campfire pot roast' individually wrapped in foil and fixed beneath the coals of a campfire that rocked my culinary world (but when I build a campfire in the backyard, the Fire Marshall shows up). It's not up to me to diss (or dish) your pot roast. You know what you like. You know what fits your lifestyle. You know what particular preparation style takes you back to momma's table. We musn't be too quick to judge others and their ways. There is so much that goes into who we are that isn't apparent on the surface...and we are all SO different.
We in America are quick to point out rights and wrongs. We in the church are quick to point out rights and wrongs, too. The Bible is really clear about many things. But look around at the differences in Christianity, the differences in denominations and theologies, the difference between one Southern Baptist Church and another, and you can see the many offshoots and embellishments of those fundamental truths. Take that a step further, and you can see the difference in the people sitting in front of you and the ones sitting behind you in church on Sundays. One especially enjoys children; one is drawn to seniors. One is analytical and is great with computers; one loves to get dirty in the garden. One is uncomfortable in crowds; one asks people over to the house nightly. It's how God planned it.
1 Corinthians 12:14 For in fact the body is not one member but many. :17 If the whole body were an eye, how could it hear?
:18 But now God has set the members, each one of them, in the body just as He pleased.
Obviously, a well-rounded church should have lots of ministries, each one born of a specific need, desire or calling of someone in the church, thus allowing 'service opportunities' for each different part of the body. A Christian not involved in a local church ministry is somewhat of an oxymoron. Each of us has to follow our calling in that respect. If you don’t like what ministries you see, then start a new one…but find something. Conversely, I don't believe you can be involved in every ministry of a church. Have you seen Undercover Boss? These guys are great CEOs, and obviously know how to run a major company...but when they get in the trenches, most of them are enthusiastic and they're available; but they're often inept. The other jobs just weren’t their calling. In addition to that, I've seen way too many people come into the church, get involved in everything and then disappear into nothing.
Remember that a lack of caring and a lack of calling to a given ministry look exactly the same on the outside. Don't be too quick to judge someone's heart, because they don't participate or aren't drawn to your ministry. You can elevate or revere it so much that it borders upon becoming a sacred cow. So then what do you do??? Well, my advice is to slowly cook it on the stove (the way my momma used to cook her cow). Personally I think it gets too dry in the oven or the crockpot!
Put Another Log On The Fire (the song)
For your listening enjoyment...the inspiration for this BLOG TITLE!!
Now I'm not talking about the 'train up a child...he will not depart from it' Proverbs core beliefs and core values here (at least not in this post). I'm talking about the every day things like a shoe then a sock, or both socks then both shoes, or the above the roll or below the roll in each one of our lives, and how quickly our eyes are opened when we observe behavior totally foreign to our own.
My kids have all left home, gone to college, and then returned (for visits only, mind you) with strange habits, likes and desires that they never acquired under my roof; disgusting habits that I would had hoped they would avoid. Things like sushi, and coffee, pizza dipped in ranch dressing, Red Bull and enery drinks, not to mention bad language habits like, well like, you know, like, oh like this one, like you know what I mean?
Honestly, many of my famous Whittern home recipes are variations and deviations on what I learned from my college roommates. First year in college, you eat in the dorms. This of course is one of the first things that make you smarter, if you don't die from it. You learn during times of stress (like finals week) to order Hideaway Pizza, or head to the Town Talk Cafe at midnight. My first year out of the dorms about all my roommate and I had figured out we could cook were grilled cheese sandwiches (the old gas stove we had was equipped with a griddle in the middle of it). We soon learned that even cheap Buddig meat was edible between buttered and grilled bread surrounded by melted cheese. The next year I lived in a townhouse with two other guys, and we decided that each night, one of us would be in charge of the meal. Still being somewhat of a picky eater at that stage in my life (learning to eat new things is another thing you pick up rapidly in college), I would usually hang around to ‘help’ in the preparation of the food; mostly I was there to see what ingredients were going into the concoction I was going to be expected to eat. One night, my roommate (Boyd) and I decided we were going to fix up a roast. We went to the grocery store, bought cow, spuds and rabbit food (roast, potatoes and carrots) and headed back to the kitchen. As we prepared to start the process, I immediately grabbed our biggest pot (the one we used for spaghetti noodles) and plopped it on top of the stove. At the same time, my roommate grabbed the biggest and deepest baking pan he could find. In unison, we asked each other, "What are you doing?" Boyd added, "You put a roast in the oven, you fool!" I replied, "No idiot, you cook a roast on the stove!" We had lived together for three years, so we were pretty much in the 'too many cooks spoil the batter' stage of our relationship (and were familiar enough with each other to use pet names, like 'fool' and 'idiot'. For some reason after all these years my wife and I haven't become that familiar yet.)
You see in my house, my mom fixed her roast on top of the stove (almost like a stew, but without all the stew stuff, and simmered to perfection). Boyd's mom had always fixed a pot roast in the oven, like a turkey, baked to perfection. Each method was the only method we knew...the only 'roast' we understood...the only way to do it. And since every boy's mom was the best cook he knew, you didn't dare question her methods. (Girls, take note when you get married. Don't get between a boy and his mom's cooking).
So what's best (besides "momma knows...")??? "A crockpot, stupid," you may yell at your computer screen. Shoot, I once ate a 'campfire pot roast' individually wrapped in foil and fixed beneath the coals of a campfire that rocked my culinary world (but when I build a campfire in the backyard, the Fire Marshall shows up). It's not up to me to diss (or dish) your pot roast. You know what you like. You know what fits your lifestyle. You know what particular preparation style takes you back to momma's table. We musn't be too quick to judge others and their ways. There is so much that goes into who we are that isn't apparent on the surface...and we are all SO different.
We in America are quick to point out rights and wrongs. We in the church are quick to point out rights and wrongs, too. The Bible is really clear about many things. But look around at the differences in Christianity, the differences in denominations and theologies, the difference between one Southern Baptist Church and another, and you can see the many offshoots and embellishments of those fundamental truths. Take that a step further, and you can see the difference in the people sitting in front of you and the ones sitting behind you in church on Sundays. One especially enjoys children; one is drawn to seniors. One is analytical and is great with computers; one loves to get dirty in the garden. One is uncomfortable in crowds; one asks people over to the house nightly. It's how God planned it.
1 Corinthians 12:14 For in fact the body is not one member but many. :17 If the whole body were an eye, how could it hear?
:18 But now God has set the members, each one of them, in the body just as He pleased.
Obviously, a well-rounded church should have lots of ministries, each one born of a specific need, desire or calling of someone in the church, thus allowing 'service opportunities' for each different part of the body. A Christian not involved in a local church ministry is somewhat of an oxymoron. Each of us has to follow our calling in that respect. If you don’t like what ministries you see, then start a new one…but find something. Conversely, I don't believe you can be involved in every ministry of a church. Have you seen Undercover Boss? These guys are great CEOs, and obviously know how to run a major company...but when they get in the trenches, most of them are enthusiastic and they're available; but they're often inept. The other jobs just weren’t their calling. In addition to that, I've seen way too many people come into the church, get involved in everything and then disappear into nothing.
Remember that a lack of caring and a lack of calling to a given ministry look exactly the same on the outside. Don't be too quick to judge someone's heart, because they don't participate or aren't drawn to your ministry. You can elevate or revere it so much that it borders upon becoming a sacred cow. So then what do you do??? Well, my advice is to slowly cook it on the stove (the way my momma used to cook her cow). Personally I think it gets too dry in the oven or the crockpot!
Put Another Log On The Fire (the song)
For your listening enjoyment...the inspiration for this BLOG TITLE!!
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