Hi.
Hope you are well. At least as well as I am. Which is, well, well.
It was a bright and stormless morning
Went to work on Wednesday. Did my deeds. Met some very nice people and enjoyed the frantic variety of transactions that is The Complaint Desk.
God allowed me to hit one of the company's highest goals at about 4 PM. Just as I was doing the final paperwork on the deal, I was asked to follow a manager to an office.
Where I ... let's just say ... I ... hmmm
made my final departure from the company.
The final straw was a complaint from a customer about my following company policy, from my perspective. But it doesn't matter.
I didn't rob/steal or grab anybody or lie/cheat or go ballistic or exhibit any moral turpitude. My years ended in a bloodless coup de grace.
Objections were to no avail, so I fell back on God's advice and gave the two people in my exit interview a firm handshake, said "God bless you" and rode off into the afternoon sun on The Bike.
The ink was already dry on the final page of that chapter of my life.
Thankfulness
I'll spare you any self-aggrandizing BS about how this isn't upsetting and how my rock-solid faith in God or my bulletproof pre-planning make losing this job of little or no concern.
I'm on the far side of 60 and I have joined the zillions of others who lack the means to support themselves. Temporarily.
The 40 months at this latest job have provided me with tremendous insights into people and how to deal with them. Precious lessons that supplemented my earnings.
Prior to this job, I could not tell when a person was lying to me.
Seriously.
Now, I am WAY better at knowing when someone is "shining me on."
I have friends of almost every sub-culture and persuasion. People I like, respect, trust and enjoy; in spite of deal-breaking differences in world views or behavioral choices.
You do not have to be like someone to like someone.
You don't have to do what others do in order to work with them.
You do not have to agree with company policies before you obey them.
Your company does not have to affirm you or praise you or cater to you.
They only have to pay you for your work.
You can quit any time you want.
And you can be fired any time they want.
Trust me on that.
Good News
As I was watching a beloved pileated woodpecker (think: Woody Woodpecker) in The Dancing Deer Forest -- what I routinely consider to be a moment of connection with God or at least His creation -- the phone rang.
After a couple of previous e-mails this morning, I was invited to return to my local radio station to fill in for the vacationing afternoon guy.
God is already being gracious to me.
Called my now-previous employer and learned I have more vacation days accrued than I thought. A pleasant surprise for my final paycheck next week.
Also learned that I will be eligible (probably) for COBRA insurance for half what I paid the last time I was laid off, in 2006.
That's good news.
The Best News
But the best news is my firm conviction that God has not abandoned me.
My job was not Eden or heaven. I have not been harshly ousted from the presence of God nor have I been separated from His love or care.
I have merely lost a job. One where my hours changed weekly; rules were changed bi-weekly; managers were changed quarterly; and, workers were disrespected daily.
A lot like where you work, right?
Life is tough.
If jobs were easy they wouldn't call it "work."
Being Unemployed
This isn't my first lack of a rodeo.
Here are a few things I have learned over the years:
I am going to go to bed and get up on a regular schedule.
I am going to make finding a job my job.
I am not going to whine.
I am not going be portray myself as a victim, because that isn't true.
I am going to thank God for the many wonderful people with whom I have labored the past three years. (I thank God that I wrote a thank-you note to "Alice" a week or two ago, after her many examples of kindness and helpfulness.)
I am going to thank God for teaching me that I could learn new tricks, survive failures and live on less money than I imagined.
I am well. By God's grace and by working hard.
(Oh. I was gonna tell you what I was gonna do. Sorry. Here goes...)
I am going to:
eat breakfast daily
not take naps
apply for jobs
take Sunday off
eat at home
go to church
enjoy an occasional ride on The Bike
keep in contact with family and friends
and remind myself that God loves me and that my life -- even unemployed -- would be sheer heaven to bazillions of people who will never catch a glimpse of anything as lovely as a pileated woodpecker in The Dancing Deer Forest, as seen through the wall of windows in my enormous, delightful home.
I have no complaints.
You don't either.
Trust me on that.
The Future
Haven't a clue.
God does. Although He knows the plans He has for me, I do not.
So be it. That's why He is God and I'm not.
He's WAY better at it than I am.
Trust me on that.
As His plans unfold, I'll keep you informed.
He has not forsaken me, nor will He ever do so.
I have lost a job.
Not my hope.
Not my God.
Not anything but a hard-earned paycheck.
I am well.
And I shall be.
How will you be when change changes what you fear might change? Where is your hope for the future?
Better choose wisely.
Ultimately, only God is worthy of our trust.
You'll see.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
You just never know...
Hi.
Hope you are well.
Writing, Water Skiing and Motorcycling
They're similar, you know.
Once you're up and running, they're all easy and fun. The only hard parts are starting, turning and stopping.
Not sure how to begin this blog.
Not sure where to make the turns.
Not sure where/when to stop.
You just never know.
**
Kids
Saw both my daughters last week.
(The occasion was the birth of my third Prince/grandson. I'll tell you more next time, OK?)
I love my daughters very much.
The same. But different.
If you have more than one kid, you'll understand.
I annoy the hell out of one of them.
OK, both of them, probably.
But one has learned to deal with me.
One hasn't.
But they both try.
And they're both women with huge hearts, lots of smarts and perfect children.
People say I'll be close with both of them.
Again. Someday.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
You just never know.
**
Work
Got in trouble. Again.
For being too much fun. (In my opinion.)
Not big trouble. "We need to talk" stuff.
Just ... just ... just ... that square peg in a round hole thing.
Not sure where I belong. But it's not there.
Not for the rest of my life.
Please.
Not that I'm ungrateful for my job. God and my friends know that I am. It's the truth. I've been spoiled by having great jobs in the past, that's all. Not as if I feel I deserve better.
OK. That's a lie.
In some ways I believe all workers deserve better.
**
Chess and Life
Maybe this will help explain it.
I enjoy playing chess.
*
No, you don't have to be smart to play.
No, you don't have to plan your next six moves in advance.
It's a game.
A game of strategy.
*
Chess has taught me that you can only make one move at a time.
And even your best moves can be countered and ruined by an opponent.
Chess has taught me that you must plan ahead, even when you know your best plans will have to be amended or scrapped at the last minute because of someone else's actions or responses.
Chess has taught me that you cannot reach your dreams in one or two moves.
Chess has taught me that you can reach your dreams; if you don't make too many mistakes; if you're flexible; if you are willing to make sacrifices; and, if you don't give up.
Chess has taught me to make plans.
Chess has taught me to abandon plans when/before they fail.
Chess has taught me to consider new plans.
Because you just never know.
**
Work, Part Two
Meanwhile, back at work...
Returned to my tasks after learning I had [whatevered].
Again.
If I were the type of person to burst into tears, I would have. Not that anyone was mean or sadistic or [insert the stuff of lousy bosses here].
Just that I need this job. Semi-desperately.
(I think.)
Plans B-X have failed. Only Y and Z remain.
I. Am. So. Frustrated.
I have hit up everyone I know to find a better job. Not a "save $1,000/month and travel for free" job, as I had. Just a "break-even with my bills" job where I am not constantly reminded I am on the verge of being kicked to the curb.
**
I drive a 20-year-old car with 325,000 miles on it. Not exactly the Babe-mobile. Didn't even buy it. It was a gift from a friend. Seriously.
I ride a 10-year-old motorcycle with over 50,000 miles on it.
Bought it for $2,000 several years ago.
It's like me: a few dents, scrapes and leaks, but it'll do.
I make 40 cents/hour less than I made two years ago.
I make less per year than I did 25 years ago.
That's regress, not progress.
I'm not saving for retirement. I'm spending my retirement. This, friends, is when you make plans to change.
Mine have not borne fruit. Yet, anyway.
So, after I was corrected/redirected, I spoke to my friend, LaLa.
Told her ... I dunno. How I simply don't believe the drivel about how God opens a window when all doors are shut ... because that's the nonsense of men and women who do their best to give false hope to people when they don't have a clue what other advice/encouragement to give.
yadda, yadda, yadda
**
Then...
About 15 minutes later, I was on a break.
The only time I can answer my cell phone.
Phone rings.
JW. Wondering if I would mind filling in on his radio station when the afternoon guy goes on vacation.
You just never know.
*
Seriously.
It's not about making plans.
It's about [insert profound, pithy explanation of the meaning of life here].
Things change.
You just never know.
*
Sometimes, as happened to a friend recently, you sell your house in a week. Sometimes, as is happening to friends today, you cannot sell your house for years.
You just never know.
**
Today
Gonna stop by that radio station this afternoon and have some fun. Been a couple of years since I helped out on one of their morning shows. As long as I don't cuss or plead for a date with a stranger, it should go well.
*
Funny. As I sat down to write this blog, I heard the morning guys mention that I was going to be a guest on the afternoon show.
Radio was part of my life for decades. Wasn't even weird to hear my name mentioned today. Didn't get all proud because I know how easy it is to be fired or laid off or whatever.
*
Glenn
Did I ever tell you about Glenn, a guy I worked with at a rock station 33 years ago?
Deepest voice that chain smoking can produce. Nice guy.
Pleasantly smiled as he talked, but not like goofy dweebs who foolishly believe that's how sports announcers should speak.
The last week Glenn worked at our insignificant AM/FM in New York's wine country, he didn't want to tell his followers he was leaving.
On Monday, he never gave a hint. On Tuesday, he made a vague reference to something he was going to say later in the week. Wednesday, he played it cool. Thursday, he was more overt about it being great to have worked at the station.
On Friday, he spilled the guts. Said how much he enjoyed all his friends who listened so faithfully for years. About how much he meant to them and how much they meant to him.
No one called.
Then Glenn went back on the air and said it again. Slower. More clearly. An emotional goodbye. Turned off his mike.
Leaned back and waited for the calls to pour in ...
begging him to stay
wishing him well
offering to go with him
suggesting he should stop by before departing
telling him they're going to set fire to their now-worthless radios.
Not
one
person
called.
That is something I shall never -- never -- forget.
That's why today is simply a day more cool than most. Not a portal to a new life.
But you just never know.
:~)
***
Imagine how foolish it would be to make plans based on a couple of hours on the air with friends.
Hasn't even happened yet.
I will not allow it to make me [more] unhappy with my real job.
I will not allow it to make me proud if/when people flatter me.
I will not allow it to make me believe I should be rich and famous.
Probably.
You just never know.
**
The Future
Gotta earn a living.
Gotta make more money.
Gotta not lose my job.
Gotta take care of myself for the rest of my life.
Gotta take care of my kids and grandchildren for the rest of my life and beyond.
Gotta replace my car, my refrigerator, my kitchen floor, blah, blah, blah.
Gotta make plans.
Gotta give up on plans.
Gotta depend more on others.
Gotta depend less on others.
Gotta depend more on God.
Period.
"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans for welfare and not for calamity; to give you a future and a hope." (Somewhere in the Book of Jeremiah, from memory.)
**
Dreams
Could I become rich and famous (again) because I'll be on the radio today?
Sure, but I doubt it.
Could I become rich and famous because of my blogging?
Sure, but I doubt it.
Could I pass out at work and be carried out by EMTs, like my friend?
Sure, but I hope not.
Could I muddle through the remainder of my days, not achieving my dreams ... but living a life of gratitude and thankfulness anyway?
Yes.
Could I love again?
Perhaps *be* loved again?
Sure.
Could I die in the next few minutes?
Sure.
You just never know.
**
What You Can Know
The goodness and faithfulness of God.
That's for certain. Always and forever.
God might have me languish in prison for a crime I didn't commit, as with Joseph in the Book of Genesis. (Begin reading at chapter 36.)
God might bless me with riches, wisdom and wives (I'm in the advanced stages of that one now), as He did with Solomon.
God might ask me to sacrifice my life for His sake, as He has for eons with zillions of dedicated believers.
You just never know.
*
So, hang on.
Hope for the best. Deal with the worst.
Give it all you got.
And revel in God's love through Jesus Christ.
Forever.
Hope you are well.
Writing, Water Skiing and Motorcycling
They're similar, you know.
Once you're up and running, they're all easy and fun. The only hard parts are starting, turning and stopping.
Not sure how to begin this blog.
Not sure where to make the turns.
Not sure where/when to stop.
You just never know.
**
Kids
Saw both my daughters last week.
(The occasion was the birth of my third Prince/grandson. I'll tell you more next time, OK?)
I love my daughters very much.
The same. But different.
If you have more than one kid, you'll understand.
I annoy the hell out of one of them.
OK, both of them, probably.
But one has learned to deal with me.
One hasn't.
But they both try.
And they're both women with huge hearts, lots of smarts and perfect children.
People say I'll be close with both of them.
Again. Someday.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
You just never know.
**
Work
Got in trouble. Again.
For being too much fun. (In my opinion.)
Not big trouble. "We need to talk" stuff.
Just ... just ... just ... that square peg in a round hole thing.
Not sure where I belong. But it's not there.
Not for the rest of my life.
Please.
Not that I'm ungrateful for my job. God and my friends know that I am. It's the truth. I've been spoiled by having great jobs in the past, that's all. Not as if I feel I deserve better.
OK. That's a lie.
In some ways I believe all workers deserve better.
**
Chess and Life
Maybe this will help explain it.
I enjoy playing chess.
*
No, you don't have to be smart to play.
No, you don't have to plan your next six moves in advance.
It's a game.
A game of strategy.
*
Chess has taught me that you can only make one move at a time.
And even your best moves can be countered and ruined by an opponent.
Chess has taught me that you must plan ahead, even when you know your best plans will have to be amended or scrapped at the last minute because of someone else's actions or responses.
Chess has taught me that you cannot reach your dreams in one or two moves.
Chess has taught me that you can reach your dreams; if you don't make too many mistakes; if you're flexible; if you are willing to make sacrifices; and, if you don't give up.
Chess has taught me to make plans.
Chess has taught me to abandon plans when/before they fail.
Chess has taught me to consider new plans.
Because you just never know.
**
Work, Part Two
Meanwhile, back at work...
Returned to my tasks after learning I had [whatevered].
Again.
If I were the type of person to burst into tears, I would have. Not that anyone was mean or sadistic or [insert the stuff of lousy bosses here].
Just that I need this job. Semi-desperately.
(I think.)
Plans B-X have failed. Only Y and Z remain.
I. Am. So. Frustrated.
I have hit up everyone I know to find a better job. Not a "save $1,000/month and travel for free" job, as I had. Just a "break-even with my bills" job where I am not constantly reminded I am on the verge of being kicked to the curb.
**
I drive a 20-year-old car with 325,000 miles on it. Not exactly the Babe-mobile. Didn't even buy it. It was a gift from a friend. Seriously.
I ride a 10-year-old motorcycle with over 50,000 miles on it.
Bought it for $2,000 several years ago.
It's like me: a few dents, scrapes and leaks, but it'll do.
I make 40 cents/hour less than I made two years ago.
I make less per year than I did 25 years ago.
That's regress, not progress.
I'm not saving for retirement. I'm spending my retirement. This, friends, is when you make plans to change.
Mine have not borne fruit. Yet, anyway.
So, after I was corrected/redirected, I spoke to my friend, LaLa.
Told her ... I dunno. How I simply don't believe the drivel about how God opens a window when all doors are shut ... because that's the nonsense of men and women who do their best to give false hope to people when they don't have a clue what other advice/encouragement to give.
yadda, yadda, yadda
**
Then...
About 15 minutes later, I was on a break.
The only time I can answer my cell phone.
Phone rings.
JW. Wondering if I would mind filling in on his radio station when the afternoon guy goes on vacation.
You just never know.
*
Seriously.
It's not about making plans.
It's about [insert profound, pithy explanation of the meaning of life here].
Things change.
You just never know.
*
Sometimes, as happened to a friend recently, you sell your house in a week. Sometimes, as is happening to friends today, you cannot sell your house for years.
You just never know.
**
Today
Gonna stop by that radio station this afternoon and have some fun. Been a couple of years since I helped out on one of their morning shows. As long as I don't cuss or plead for a date with a stranger, it should go well.
*
Funny. As I sat down to write this blog, I heard the morning guys mention that I was going to be a guest on the afternoon show.
Radio was part of my life for decades. Wasn't even weird to hear my name mentioned today. Didn't get all proud because I know how easy it is to be fired or laid off or whatever.
*
Glenn
Did I ever tell you about Glenn, a guy I worked with at a rock station 33 years ago?
Deepest voice that chain smoking can produce. Nice guy.
Pleasantly smiled as he talked, but not like goofy dweebs who foolishly believe that's how sports announcers should speak.
The last week Glenn worked at our insignificant AM/FM in New York's wine country, he didn't want to tell his followers he was leaving.
On Monday, he never gave a hint. On Tuesday, he made a vague reference to something he was going to say later in the week. Wednesday, he played it cool. Thursday, he was more overt about it being great to have worked at the station.
On Friday, he spilled the guts. Said how much he enjoyed all his friends who listened so faithfully for years. About how much he meant to them and how much they meant to him.
No one called.
Then Glenn went back on the air and said it again. Slower. More clearly. An emotional goodbye. Turned off his mike.
Leaned back and waited for the calls to pour in ...
begging him to stay
wishing him well
offering to go with him
suggesting he should stop by before departing
telling him they're going to set fire to their now-worthless radios.
Not
one
person
called.
That is something I shall never -- never -- forget.
That's why today is simply a day more cool than most. Not a portal to a new life.
But you just never know.
:~)
***
Imagine how foolish it would be to make plans based on a couple of hours on the air with friends.
Hasn't even happened yet.
I will not allow it to make me [more] unhappy with my real job.
I will not allow it to make me proud if/when people flatter me.
I will not allow it to make me believe I should be rich and famous.
Probably.
You just never know.
**
The Future
Gotta earn a living.
Gotta make more money.
Gotta not lose my job.
Gotta take care of myself for the rest of my life.
Gotta take care of my kids and grandchildren for the rest of my life and beyond.
Gotta replace my car, my refrigerator, my kitchen floor, blah, blah, blah.
Gotta make plans.
Gotta give up on plans.
Gotta depend more on others.
Gotta depend less on others.
Gotta depend more on God.
Period.
"For I know the plans that I have for you," declares the Lord. "Plans for welfare and not for calamity; to give you a future and a hope." (Somewhere in the Book of Jeremiah, from memory.)
**
Dreams
Could I become rich and famous (again) because I'll be on the radio today?
Sure, but I doubt it.
Could I become rich and famous because of my blogging?
Sure, but I doubt it.
Could I pass out at work and be carried out by EMTs, like my friend?
Sure, but I hope not.
Could I muddle through the remainder of my days, not achieving my dreams ... but living a life of gratitude and thankfulness anyway?
Yes.
Could I love again?
Perhaps *be* loved again?
Sure.
Could I die in the next few minutes?
Sure.
You just never know.
**
What You Can Know
The goodness and faithfulness of God.
That's for certain. Always and forever.
God might have me languish in prison for a crime I didn't commit, as with Joseph in the Book of Genesis. (Begin reading at chapter 36.)
God might bless me with riches, wisdom and wives (I'm in the advanced stages of that one now), as He did with Solomon.
God might ask me to sacrifice my life for His sake, as He has for eons with zillions of dedicated believers.
You just never know.
*
So, hang on.
Hope for the best. Deal with the worst.
Give it all you got.
And revel in God's love through Jesus Christ.
Forever.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
All I Know About Women, Part Two
Hi.
Tough times in America, huh?
Especially for comedy writers. Who can compete with the news?
Congressman Weiner is busted for sending pictures of his [don't say "wiener"] to -- hello??? -- at least six women.
Talk about losing your sense of Huma.
Nobody can make up stuff funnier than that.
Or more sad.
Not to mention Arnold, who Terminated his marriage.
Tell me he's not going to regret that for the rest of his life.
And for what? I've had sex. (Although my memory is fading.)
You've probably had sex.
One thing is for sure. A few minutes/hours/weekends/years of pleasure is not worth the destruction that it causes outside of marriage. Love what Solomon says about adultery: "He who would destroy himself" does it.
Amen.
***
All I Know About Women, Part One
OK.
This will be short.
Walked by a beautiful woman in a summer dress and almost high-heels. Her hair was the color of [Yeah, like I remember the color of her hair. Are you serious?].
Anyway.
She paid me as much attention as lovely women pay the average chubby old guy in a goofy work vest.
Know what I did as I passed her?
Burst into subdued laughter.
Honest. Just couldn't help myself. Is that sick or what?
The very definition of "uncool."
Better than approaching her and mumbling a few incoherent words that would prove beyond any doubt whatsoever that I was totally dumbstruck by her looks.
Better to be thought a giggling fool than prove it.
As I did when my dad and I went to Olive Garden in Chattanooga.
The hostess was the most delicious item in the restaurant.
Blonde. Not young. Just right.
Walked by and said at her: "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?"
Thank God she didn't pour a bowl of salad on me or beat me to death with breadsticks.
She just figured two old men were out for a romp and that we were quite harmless. Maybe even sincere.
She kindly smiled and thanked me.
The way pretty women smile at screwy old men.
She had nothing to lose.
Why not smile at an old man?
And accept a compliment.
A truthful one.
**
All I Know About Women, Part Two
Rode The Bike to Dahlonega last Saturday to enjoy the free bluegrass music on the square.
(In spite of the deaf mandolin player who has mastered exactly two notes and incessantly plays them with a fervor worthy of the final set in a 70s Who concert.)
Spied a cute lady on a bench.
Seat next to her was empty.
Did it.
Asked if I could sit down.
She broke into a huge smile and said, "SURE!!!"
As only an 83-year-old woman with a husband nearby can say it.
Cathy.
Fun.
Heard all about her first husband's tragic death. Where she lives. How much cedar paneling there is at her place. All about where they live in Florida and how the canal near her house is almost dry.
Listened as she told about what she and her husband did the night before and how they were going to "jam" that night and what they were going to have for dinner the next day. About her hardwood floors and when she was going to refinish them. And where her husband would be as she cleaned the house.
Just.
Stuff.
And I loved it.
Listening is a joy that I do not indulge myself in enough.
A priceless treasure we can all afford.
If we're willing to pay the price.
Hope to see Cathy again. And hear what's happening.
She doesn't know me.
Might never see her again.
But I'll bet she "likes" me.
Just because I enjoyed listening to her.
That.
Is all I know about women.
Guys, if you find a lady you enjoy listening to ... you have a jewel.
If you cannot listen to your lady.
Or will not listen.
You are going to miss out on more than you can imagine.
Even if you'd rather be fishing, watching [insert sport here] or spending quality time with your friends seeing who can burp the loudest or spit a watermelon seed with the greatest accuracy and/or distance.
***
All I Know About Women, Part Three
Meanwhile, back at the bluegrass concert...
Walked to The Bike to grab a couple of bottles of water for Miss Cathy and myself.
Saw a Cute Young Couple (CYC) walking almost hand in hand.
He could have.
Wasn't bright enough.
Walked ahead of her.
Wonder why???
*
In Dahlonega, pedestrians have the right-of-way at crosswalks.
Cars yield. Mostly.
But I'm sure there's a headstone nearby that reads:
"Here Lies Elmer Farnsworth, Who Had The Right-Of Way."
*
As the CYC walked toward the crosswalk
with The Guy in the lead
a car came to a stop for them.
Brakes squeaked.
Not terribly loudly. Not terribly expensively.
The brakes squeaked. That's all.
The Guy spins around and tells his CYC counterpart
(sheesh)
*everything* he knows about brakes.
"That's only dust on the rotors!" And on and on and on.
The History of Brakes, beginning with the discovery of the wheel.
As I walked behind them to rejoin Cathy, I could feel The Girl's pain.
If she asked The Guy what time it was ... could she endure hearing the History of Clocks until dark?
Every lady reading this right now understands.
Don't you, ladies?
This happens to you all the time.
Guys try to impress you by blathering nonsensical drivel ... trying to show you how smart they are.
If guys only knew what to say.
Or not say.
After years of personal failures
I want to share this lesson
with my fellow blatherers.
Her Statement:
"Squeaky brakes!"
His Appropriate Replies:
1) Yeah.
2) I'm sorry. I didn't hear them. I was thinking about something you said last night ... that reminded me of why I love you.
3) Yeah. Let's get some chocolate.
4) Yeah. Let's get a pedicure.
5) Yeah. Hey! Look! That store is having a shoe sale! Let's go!
6) Yeah. I'm glad our brakes are OK. I love taking care of you.
7) Yeah. Say, I wonder how your mother is doing?
8) Yeah. How does that noise make you feel?
9) Yeah. I'm glad being with you isn't like that.
10) Yeah. I wonder if they'd let me put new brakes on their car ... like I did when I was in the Alps and helped those nuns in that decrepit old van.
11) If you were a car, what color would you want to be?
12) Please don't ever put the brakes on our love!
The most wise among women see what others missed in this reflection. And what I felt myself.
The Guy was with The Girl.
I was alone.
And I wrote 1,000 words giving *him* advice about women.
Wonder if I should read more about brakes and clocks?
Tough times in America, huh?
Especially for comedy writers. Who can compete with the news?
Congressman Weiner is busted for sending pictures of his [don't say "wiener"] to -- hello??? -- at least six women.
Talk about losing your sense of Huma.
Nobody can make up stuff funnier than that.
Or more sad.
Not to mention Arnold, who Terminated his marriage.
Tell me he's not going to regret that for the rest of his life.
And for what? I've had sex. (Although my memory is fading.)
You've probably had sex.
One thing is for sure. A few minutes/hours/weekends/years of pleasure is not worth the destruction that it causes outside of marriage. Love what Solomon says about adultery: "He who would destroy himself" does it.
Amen.
***
All I Know About Women, Part One
OK.
This will be short.
Walked by a beautiful woman in a summer dress and almost high-heels. Her hair was the color of [Yeah, like I remember the color of her hair. Are you serious?].
Anyway.
She paid me as much attention as lovely women pay the average chubby old guy in a goofy work vest.
Know what I did as I passed her?
Burst into subdued laughter.
Honest. Just couldn't help myself. Is that sick or what?
The very definition of "uncool."
Better than approaching her and mumbling a few incoherent words that would prove beyond any doubt whatsoever that I was totally dumbstruck by her looks.
Better to be thought a giggling fool than prove it.
As I did when my dad and I went to Olive Garden in Chattanooga.
The hostess was the most delicious item in the restaurant.
Blonde. Not young. Just right.
Walked by and said at her: "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are?"
Thank God she didn't pour a bowl of salad on me or beat me to death with breadsticks.
She just figured two old men were out for a romp and that we were quite harmless. Maybe even sincere.
She kindly smiled and thanked me.
The way pretty women smile at screwy old men.
She had nothing to lose.
Why not smile at an old man?
And accept a compliment.
A truthful one.
**
All I Know About Women, Part Two
Rode The Bike to Dahlonega last Saturday to enjoy the free bluegrass music on the square.
(In spite of the deaf mandolin player who has mastered exactly two notes and incessantly plays them with a fervor worthy of the final set in a 70s Who concert.)
Spied a cute lady on a bench.
Seat next to her was empty.
Did it.
Asked if I could sit down.
She broke into a huge smile and said, "SURE!!!"
As only an 83-year-old woman with a husband nearby can say it.
Cathy.
Fun.
Heard all about her first husband's tragic death. Where she lives. How much cedar paneling there is at her place. All about where they live in Florida and how the canal near her house is almost dry.
Listened as she told about what she and her husband did the night before and how they were going to "jam" that night and what they were going to have for dinner the next day. About her hardwood floors and when she was going to refinish them. And where her husband would be as she cleaned the house.
Just.
Stuff.
And I loved it.
Listening is a joy that I do not indulge myself in enough.
A priceless treasure we can all afford.
If we're willing to pay the price.
Hope to see Cathy again. And hear what's happening.
She doesn't know me.
Might never see her again.
But I'll bet she "likes" me.
Just because I enjoyed listening to her.
That.
Is all I know about women.
Guys, if you find a lady you enjoy listening to ... you have a jewel.
If you cannot listen to your lady.
Or will not listen.
You are going to miss out on more than you can imagine.
Even if you'd rather be fishing, watching [insert sport here] or spending quality time with your friends seeing who can burp the loudest or spit a watermelon seed with the greatest accuracy and/or distance.
***
All I Know About Women, Part Three
Meanwhile, back at the bluegrass concert...
Walked to The Bike to grab a couple of bottles of water for Miss Cathy and myself.
Saw a Cute Young Couple (CYC) walking almost hand in hand.
He could have.
Wasn't bright enough.
Walked ahead of her.
Wonder why???
*
In Dahlonega, pedestrians have the right-of-way at crosswalks.
Cars yield. Mostly.
But I'm sure there's a headstone nearby that reads:
"Here Lies Elmer Farnsworth, Who Had The Right-Of Way."
*
As the CYC walked toward the crosswalk
with The Guy in the lead
a car came to a stop for them.
Brakes squeaked.
Not terribly loudly. Not terribly expensively.
The brakes squeaked. That's all.
The Guy spins around and tells his CYC counterpart
(sheesh)
*everything* he knows about brakes.
"That's only dust on the rotors!" And on and on and on.
The History of Brakes, beginning with the discovery of the wheel.
As I walked behind them to rejoin Cathy, I could feel The Girl's pain.
If she asked The Guy what time it was ... could she endure hearing the History of Clocks until dark?
Every lady reading this right now understands.
Don't you, ladies?
This happens to you all the time.
Guys try to impress you by blathering nonsensical drivel ... trying to show you how smart they are.
If guys only knew what to say.
Or not say.
After years of personal failures
I want to share this lesson
with my fellow blatherers.
Her Statement:
"Squeaky brakes!"
His Appropriate Replies:
1) Yeah.
2) I'm sorry. I didn't hear them. I was thinking about something you said last night ... that reminded me of why I love you.
3) Yeah. Let's get some chocolate.
4) Yeah. Let's get a pedicure.
5) Yeah. Hey! Look! That store is having a shoe sale! Let's go!
6) Yeah. I'm glad our brakes are OK. I love taking care of you.
7) Yeah. Say, I wonder how your mother is doing?
8) Yeah. How does that noise make you feel?
9) Yeah. I'm glad being with you isn't like that.
10) Yeah. I wonder if they'd let me put new brakes on their car ... like I did when I was in the Alps and helped those nuns in that decrepit old van.
11) If you were a car, what color would you want to be?
12) Please don't ever put the brakes on our love!
The most wise among women see what others missed in this reflection. And what I felt myself.
The Guy was with The Girl.
I was alone.
And I wrote 1,000 words giving *him* advice about women.
Wonder if I should read more about brakes and clocks?
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Then My Daughter Said ...
Hi.
Hope you are well.
**
The Complaint Department
Been reflecting on my latest assignment at work. Yup, The Complaint Department (TCD). Hit me when I happened upon the blathering of the Laura Ingraham program.
She said something about how The American Dream has been shattered in the eyes of so many. I think she said "I mean ... who wants to be 60 years old and wake up to find themselves working at Walmart?"
***
Radio Lesson #1
There are four aspects to communication:
1) What you say.
2) What you think you said.
3) What listeners hear.
4) What listeners think they heard.
***
Yes. That hit me. Softer than you might imagine, thanks to the lunch I had with my daughter a few days before.
**
High School Daze
Back in the late 60s, I attended a large high school in Rochester, NY. (Mostly. I did a two-year sentence at a private school, but that's a different story.)
I did alright in school. No, not my grades; they sucked. But I was pretty popular. Largely because I worked weekends at one of the few rock radio stations in town.
Melinda and I were nominated "Class Couple." I was also up for most popular, class flirt and I forget what else.
Life was OK, but it wasn't the kind of life that anybody would look at and say what my daughter said.
***
Bumped Around
Did my obligatory hippie pilgrimage to California ... to find myself. Turns out I wasn't there. So, I went to Alaska. Built a log house with a friend.
Cool times. But not worthy of what my daughter said.
***
Landed
Met a pretty blonde artist. Moved in with her before our first date. Got married a year or so later. Got a job at a local radio station; weekends, then full-time. Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll.
Sounds better than it was. Unworthy of what my daughter said.
***
Crashed
Awful marriage got worse. Wife got religion. Divorced me.
I asked God to forgive me. Got a new life. Sought out my ex ... to remarry her.
Nine months later we were remarried.
Thought it was a miracle.
Maybe there are temporary miracles.
Who knows?
***
Radio, Part Two
Went back into radio.
A religious station, owned by a guy who didn't pretend to be religious. I respected that. Especially after meeting others who did pretend to be close to god and lied.
Quit my job. Unlike me. I don't quit.
Well, at least I don't give up. But in a good way, I hope.
Offered to work out my differences with the folks at the religious station who welcomed programs denying the divinity of Christ. I was the Program Director. Didn't want to be portrayed as someone who directed that programming.
My first daughter was two months old.
Quitting meant no health insurance.
Quit.
God gave me a new job in Syracuse, where I ended up working for nine years.
The story of my "miraculous" marriage was a popular one. Hit the pages of what was then Moody Monthly magazine. The program that dramatized the lives of real c/Christians, Unshackled!, flew me to Chicago to portray myself for one of their half-hour episodes.
I stopped counting all the places where I either preached or spoke at banquets. The longer the list, the more proud I got. So, I stopped counting.
Did mornings at a small network of Christian stations.
Became Operations Manager.
Arbitron ratings for my shift were occasionally in the top 10 in the market.
Enjoyed it.
My kids grew up listening to me on the radio every morning and having me say hello and stuff. Many of their friends and their families were listeners.
Life was OK. Except their mom and I *really* didn't get along.
No one said what my daughter recently told me.
***
Latter Daze
Moved South in 1989.
Got a great job with a great man who served a great God.
Traveled the country to keep in contact with the hundreds of stations that aired our radio programs. Flew to Chicago to have lunch with the manager of a large network one day. Watched the Super Bowl with friends on John Wayne's old yacht in California. (Twice.)
Spent weeks in Washington, DC and at Opryland. Good times with good people.
Except at home.
Was told it was "God's will" to divorce me again.
The guy I worked for knew that was screwy and didn't fire me, as so many others would/should have.
Life went on. Didn't hear the words my daughter said.
***
Ups and Downs
Met a colleague in Christian broadcasting.
Fell in love and married her for a few tempestuous months.
Survived a stunningly cunning divorce.
My boss didn't fire me. In spite of those who advised him to do so. Offered to transfer myself to shipping or wherever. He refused.
Not that he said what my daughter said. Just that -- after working with me and traveling with me for years -- he didn't believe what was said about me in order to justify a divorce (or two).
When I didn't believe God loved me ... I knew my boss did.
Larry Burkett.
Greatest man I've ever known.
***
The Hard Years
I'll spare you the blow-by-blow of The Hard Years.
Just think death, broken dreams and loss.
But don't be afraid. Things work out.
Even the crummy crap that you fear most.
Seriously.
Another love.
Another divorce.
Larry died. My career in c/Christian radio with him.
Unemployed. Got a job. Lost a job.
Unemployed. Got a job. Still there.
***
Then My Daughter Said
Been three years at this job.
Haven't been on an airplane in years.
No Eggs Benedict at the Sheraton Washington.
No dinners by the falls or in the rain forest at Opryland.
No free parties at Dave & Busters or trips to Colorado, Dallas, etc.
Just work.
Different hours/days every week. (Requests for time off must be submitted in writing three weeks in advance.)
More rules every day.
New managers every couple of months.
Fewer options every year.
No ladies.
Little money.
Fewer friends.
Farther from God.
But not without hope or the knowledge of His care, affection and love.
I
Have
Tried
to do well.
To maintain some semblance of integrity and responsibility.
Pay my bills.
Mow my lawn.
Show up for work.
Go to church -- because I love to do so.
See my kids when I can.
Help them when I'm able.
Give them affirmation/direction.
At lunch the other day with my daughter who still speaks to me ... we were talking about work.
I think.
Maybe not.
But I remember what my daughter said.
In spite of my many failures -- in her eyes, God's and mine.
In spite of my supreme unbraggability.
In spite of not being able to ease her financial issues by writing a check.
In spite of ...
whatever.
She looked at me
then my daughter said,
"I'm proud of you, Dad. I'm really proud of you."
[tears]
Hope you are well.
**
The Complaint Department
Been reflecting on my latest assignment at work. Yup, The Complaint Department (TCD). Hit me when I happened upon the blathering of the Laura Ingraham program.
She said something about how The American Dream has been shattered in the eyes of so many. I think she said "I mean ... who wants to be 60 years old and wake up to find themselves working at Walmart?"
***
Radio Lesson #1
There are four aspects to communication:
1) What you say.
2) What you think you said.
3) What listeners hear.
4) What listeners think they heard.
***
Yes. That hit me. Softer than you might imagine, thanks to the lunch I had with my daughter a few days before.
**
High School Daze
Back in the late 60s, I attended a large high school in Rochester, NY. (Mostly. I did a two-year sentence at a private school, but that's a different story.)
I did alright in school. No, not my grades; they sucked. But I was pretty popular. Largely because I worked weekends at one of the few rock radio stations in town.
Melinda and I were nominated "Class Couple." I was also up for most popular, class flirt and I forget what else.
Life was OK, but it wasn't the kind of life that anybody would look at and say what my daughter said.
***
Bumped Around
Did my obligatory hippie pilgrimage to California ... to find myself. Turns out I wasn't there. So, I went to Alaska. Built a log house with a friend.
Cool times. But not worthy of what my daughter said.
***
Landed
Met a pretty blonde artist. Moved in with her before our first date. Got married a year or so later. Got a job at a local radio station; weekends, then full-time. Sex, drugs and rock 'n roll.
Sounds better than it was. Unworthy of what my daughter said.
***
Crashed
Awful marriage got worse. Wife got religion. Divorced me.
I asked God to forgive me. Got a new life. Sought out my ex ... to remarry her.
Nine months later we were remarried.
Thought it was a miracle.
Maybe there are temporary miracles.
Who knows?
***
Radio, Part Two
Went back into radio.
A religious station, owned by a guy who didn't pretend to be religious. I respected that. Especially after meeting others who did pretend to be close to god and lied.
Quit my job. Unlike me. I don't quit.
Well, at least I don't give up. But in a good way, I hope.
Offered to work out my differences with the folks at the religious station who welcomed programs denying the divinity of Christ. I was the Program Director. Didn't want to be portrayed as someone who directed that programming.
My first daughter was two months old.
Quitting meant no health insurance.
Quit.
God gave me a new job in Syracuse, where I ended up working for nine years.
The story of my "miraculous" marriage was a popular one. Hit the pages of what was then Moody Monthly magazine. The program that dramatized the lives of real c/Christians, Unshackled!, flew me to Chicago to portray myself for one of their half-hour episodes.
I stopped counting all the places where I either preached or spoke at banquets. The longer the list, the more proud I got. So, I stopped counting.
Did mornings at a small network of Christian stations.
Became Operations Manager.
Arbitron ratings for my shift were occasionally in the top 10 in the market.
Enjoyed it.
My kids grew up listening to me on the radio every morning and having me say hello and stuff. Many of their friends and their families were listeners.
Life was OK. Except their mom and I *really* didn't get along.
No one said what my daughter recently told me.
***
Latter Daze
Moved South in 1989.
Got a great job with a great man who served a great God.
Traveled the country to keep in contact with the hundreds of stations that aired our radio programs. Flew to Chicago to have lunch with the manager of a large network one day. Watched the Super Bowl with friends on John Wayne's old yacht in California. (Twice.)
Spent weeks in Washington, DC and at Opryland. Good times with good people.
Except at home.
Was told it was "God's will" to divorce me again.
The guy I worked for knew that was screwy and didn't fire me, as so many others would/should have.
Life went on. Didn't hear the words my daughter said.
***
Ups and Downs
Met a colleague in Christian broadcasting.
Fell in love and married her for a few tempestuous months.
Survived a stunningly cunning divorce.
My boss didn't fire me. In spite of those who advised him to do so. Offered to transfer myself to shipping or wherever. He refused.
Not that he said what my daughter said. Just that -- after working with me and traveling with me for years -- he didn't believe what was said about me in order to justify a divorce (or two).
When I didn't believe God loved me ... I knew my boss did.
Larry Burkett.
Greatest man I've ever known.
***
The Hard Years
I'll spare you the blow-by-blow of The Hard Years.
Just think death, broken dreams and loss.
But don't be afraid. Things work out.
Even the crummy crap that you fear most.
Seriously.
Another love.
Another divorce.
Larry died. My career in c/Christian radio with him.
Unemployed. Got a job. Lost a job.
Unemployed. Got a job. Still there.
***
Then My Daughter Said
Been three years at this job.
Haven't been on an airplane in years.
No Eggs Benedict at the Sheraton Washington.
No dinners by the falls or in the rain forest at Opryland.
No free parties at Dave & Busters or trips to Colorado, Dallas, etc.
Just work.
Different hours/days every week. (Requests for time off must be submitted in writing three weeks in advance.)
More rules every day.
New managers every couple of months.
Fewer options every year.
No ladies.
Little money.
Fewer friends.
Farther from God.
But not without hope or the knowledge of His care, affection and love.
I
Have
Tried
to do well.
To maintain some semblance of integrity and responsibility.
Pay my bills.
Mow my lawn.
Show up for work.
Go to church -- because I love to do so.
See my kids when I can.
Help them when I'm able.
Give them affirmation/direction.
At lunch the other day with my daughter who still speaks to me ... we were talking about work.
I think.
Maybe not.
But I remember what my daughter said.
In spite of my many failures -- in her eyes, God's and mine.
In spite of my supreme unbraggability.
In spite of not being able to ease her financial issues by writing a check.
In spite of ...
whatever.
She looked at me
then my daughter said,
"I'm proud of you, Dad. I'm really proud of you."
[tears]
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